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avocadorablepirate · 2 months

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What Do We Call This? - 01

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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing. OP spoilers (especially in this chapter). Probably shouldn't read if you haven't watched/read the Punk Hazard Arc.

A/N: 16 year old me is rolling in her grave, ready to resurrect from the dead, unalive me, and take my place because both she and I cannot believe that we are back here writing fics about a fictional man. We also cannot believe that our writing style has not changed one bit. It's honestly quite disappointing.

Anyway, this chapter kinda sucks (proof read, but for sure there are mistakes somewhere there), and the others probably will too (all I've written after this is my favourite part, the rest is up to fate and my willpower to continue writing). But, if it comes to it we can always just erase all of this, and act like none of this ever happened.

Why is it called 'What Do We Call This?" you ask? Because I honestly don't know what the fuck to call this.

—⁠☆✿☆—⁠

She found herself being welcomed onto the pirate ship, despite the fact that just a few days ago she was after their lives. It was truly a strange turn of events that had unfurled in the blink of an eye.

"If that's where you want to go then we'll take you! If I'm going to be Pirate King I'll have to visit every island anyway!" The captain had said without a second thought when she had asked them whether she could tag along for a short while.

To put it briefly she had met the crew at Fishman Island, initially with the intent to get rid of them. However, after certain explanations about memories that she did not want to dive into for the 2nd time that week, and some forgiveness on the part of the pirates, she was now onboard the Thousand Sunny, on her way to the new world, fulfilling her initial goals.

——————————————————————————

The Straw Hats ship had docked at Punk Hazard on getting a call from someone on their Den Den Mushi. Luffy having picked it up without any hesitation had decided that he was going to help whoever it was.

A lot had happened since then. You had been captured along with Nami, Sanji, Chopper and Franky, and had found yourselves in a metal chamber along with the head of a samurai who was somehow still alive, despite lacking an entire lower body. Franky and Sanji had managed to break open the cell, allowing for your escape, but as all of you looked for a way out you ran into some children in what looked like a nursery. You had then escaped with the children, who had begged you to take them with you, but on exiting from the front you ran into a pirate named Trafalgar Law and the Marines. The group's interaction with the two was short, quickly choosing to find another exit.

Law, you thought to yourself as you kept running. You had heard the name before but couldn't quite remember when. You were however pulled out of your thoughts when from the corner of your eye you saw a thin blue orb surround the four Straw Hat pirates. You watched in shock as the hearts of the pirates were switched.

What had just happened?

You took a quick glance at the people behind you, had this been the work of the Marines or the pirate Trafalgar Law?

What you found was the pirate, frozen in place, staring at you as if he had seen a ghost. He had been caught off guard perhaps, not realising that there was someone else with the Straw Hats. But, he was quick to snap out of it, turning away and focusing his attention on the Marines at hand. You too turned back around, a small smile on your face despite the situation. You remembered now, where you had heard the name. What were the chances that you would finally meet him after all these years, you thought to yourself as you lightly touched the strap of your hood.

——————————————————————————

Everyone was now hiding out in a cave behind the research facility you had been trapped in, the situation having completely changed.

You had reunited with the rest of the Straw Hats and Trafalgar Law had also joined the group with the intention of forming an alliance with the Straw Hats. You couldn't help but laugh to yourself when Luffy had readily accepted, thinking back to when he had gladly welcomed you onto his ship, despite the few protests from the rest of the crew.

Your laughing caught the attention of the captain of the Heart Pirates, and you were quick to regain your composure, giving him a quick smile as he eyed you. His attention then turned back to Luffy, but his hand pointed at you, "Who's that?"

Luffy looked from Law to you and back, his smile stretching from ear to ear, "Oh! This is (Y/N). She was trying to kill us," he says, his smile not letting up while Usopp and Nami yell at him for the introduction while you, Robin and Franky laugh, Chopper too stunned to speak. Usopp then explains to him that you've temporarily joined them, not going into further details.

Trafalgar Law was obviously not expecting that for a response, almost in complete shock that someone could be dumb enough to welcome an assassin onto their ship. However, he didn't address it, there were other things that needed to be dealt with, he would just have to be wary of you.

You, Nami and Usopp had volunteered to stay back and watch over the children. However, Caesar Clown himself had come to attack you. Unable to land an attack on him the three of you were knocked out and he took the children back with him leaving the three of you and Brownbeard behind. Luckily, the four of you had managed to escape and were now back inside the research facility with everyone else.

It was a strange group of people; pirates, Marines, a few of Caesar's subordinates, and whatever you were. However, given the situation everyone had decided to work together to escape the gas, defeat Caesar Clown and save the children. But you sensed that Trafalgar Law had other intentions as well.

Initially with the task of helping find the children, you stuck with Nami, but watched intently as Law went off on his own. You quickly made the decision to follow him. Unsure of whether he had any ulterior motives to form an alliance with the Straw Hats, you felt it would be a safe bet if you kept an eye on him, in turn protecting the Straw Hats who you were indebted to - incase he tried anything.

"Nami, I'm going to follow Trafalgar Law. Maybe I can find something that can help the children," you say, and quickly follow behind the other pirate, not giving Nami the chance to protest to your decision.

You kept a safe distance from Law, you couldn't let him see you. Following him through various corridors he finally stops at a room filled with huge tanks, the words 'S.A.D' painted on each of them in big bold letters. What is this place?

"Room."

"Shambles."

Law's voice draws your attention away from the tanks, and you notice the same blue orb from earlier surround him. You're taken by surprise when you see a translucent cube with what looks to be a heart inside it appear in the palm of his hand. Then suddenly Law's flung back and in front of him stands a tall man in a white coat and shades, the cube now in his hands. He looks vaguely familiar.

"Ver-go," Law tries to say as he stands up but the man squeezes the cube causing Law to fall back down and yell in pain.

Your eyes now focus on the heart, is that Law's? How did Vergo get his heart?

This time Law tries to land an attack on Vergo. He's able to hit him but it doesn't seem to do much. Vergo once again squeezes at Law's heart, harder this time, and you watch as Law falls on his back, unable to get up.

Shit what do I do? You scan your surroundings trying to find some way to help Law. You're not one for close combat, or combat at all for that matter, so running in and attacking is not an option. Just then you see the Marine from earlier, and you let out a sigh of relief, you could hold off on intervening for now.

Things however seemed to be taking a turn for the worse. Vergo had the upper hand, Smoker almost completely knocked out, yet you had a sliver of hope when you noticed Law dragging himself across the floor to reach for his heart. But, just as he was about to reach for it Vergo picked it up. You looked back to see Smoker lying still on the floor. Then you heard Law scream. A gasp fell from your lips, but you were quick to duck behind a wall before anyone could see you. Your body was shaking, Law's screaming was bringing back the memories.

Prison cell.

Dragged out.

Handcuffs.

Words.

Screaming.

More screaming.

Silence.

Handcuffs.

You try and take deep breaths to calm yourself. There's no point in remembering those things. You're free from it now, you try and tell yourself, You need to do something, if you don't, no one gets out.

Three deep breaths. You swore to yourself that you would never do this again, but maybe that wasn't the best idea when you had decided to associate yourself with pirates.

You outstretch your arm, and focus your attention on Vergo while still trying to hide yourself. From the corner of your eye you can see Smoker slowly starting to get up. You have to time this right.

"Grip."

"Twist."

You close your hands into a tight fist, and twist your wrist to the right.

Vergo suddenly screams, an excruciating pain surging through his right arm, and he drops Law's heart just as Smoker hits him from behind.

You unclench your fist and bite down on your hat that you had already placed between your teeth, trying your best not to let out a gut-wrenching scream of your own as you slide down against the wall to hide yourself.

The problem with these powers? You feel the same pain you inflict onto others, only it's far worse than what they feel.

——————————————————————————

Law's surprised by the way Vergo is suddenly gripping at his arm, but he immediately looks to his right, he heard that gasp from earlier. He knows you've been following him, watching him, but until now he wasn't sure why. You're gripping at your right arm as well, from your expression he can tell you're in pain, did you do that? He doesn't know what to make of it. However, he takes this as his chance to get his heart back, and just in time - Vergo's attention is back on him.

——————————————————————————

Trafalgar Law, you say to yourself, eyeing the man who's sitting by himself away from the rest of the group. He's different from what you had heard about him. Given, what you had heard about him was from a long time ago.

After the pain had subsided you had decided to get away just as Law laid his final attack on Vergo. You didn't want him questioning why you had followed him, and you definitely wouldn't have been able to explain why your right arm was limp. Instead, you headed back to the Straw Hats and acted as if you never saw or heard anything.

"(Y/N)-chan?"

"Hmm?" You turn your attention to Sanji who's holding out a bowl of food.

"Could you give this to Tra?" he asks, and you nod your head as you take the bowl from him.

Law's staring at Luffy and the rest of the Straw Hats, annoyance etched on his face. When he sees you his eyes do a quick scan from head to toe, but you notice how they linger on your right arm, which you quickly hide behind your back, shoving the bowl towards him.

"Here, Sanji wanted me to give this to you," you say, and he takes the bowl from you, nodding in thanks. You stand beside him for some time, waiting for him to say something, anything, but not a word comes out.

"Well, if you need more let me know," you say, quickly scurrying back to the cook who's all too happy with your company.

——————————————————————————

A/N: Now you're probably wondering after reading this, why the fuck are you writing? It's very simple actually - because what's the point in living if you don't keep adding to the list of things you're embarrassed about <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠> ..... anyway see you next time....unless I choose to dip after this.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law x y/n #law fanfic #screaming crying cannot believe im doing this

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cannellee · 6 months

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hey, pls cant you do Mikey, Izana, hanma, kakucho and koko (manila arc) with a s/n temperamental, impulsive, umpredictable Dear who as bipolarity and 0 empathy, insensitive with mbti intj? Bean years younger than them, like a teenager. Thanks!

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ★

୨୧ alpha! Tokyo revengers x omega! Reader (pairing: mikey, izana, hanma, kakucho, kokonoi)

— their reactions to an unstable s/o

(that's a lot! I'm not very familiar with any of these - forgive me if it's not really representative - and I'm not sure if I quite wrote the reader you had in mind. I hope you still like it!!🫶🏼 I just realized i forgot kokonoi, I'll probably do it later if I'mmotivated sorry)

my masterlist : ☆

KAKUCHO

he is very attentive of every single details about you and completely supports you no matter what.

he always has the right words when you're feeling down and respects your boundaries.

he often hesitates to leave you some alone time or to actually listen to his instincts and stay by your side.

he's aware you value moments of calm and peace and doesn't want to interfere and stress you out.

he's so delicate with you and always there during your episodes. he started to take note of your triggers and symptoms early in the relationship to make sure he could offer you the best support.

if you have to take treatments or medications, he has it all planned, he knows exactly when you need to take them and make sure you do. he doesn't want to risk your health!

he's so patient with you:( when you get irritable easily he gives you time and space and silently envelopes you with his calming pheromones. and when your thoughts are racing and you're not able to talk clearly, he's making you slow down, he doesn't mind if you repeat yourself and stutter over your words : he's actively listening and nodding along to whatever you say.

MIKEY

mikey tries his best to be understanding but honestly he sometimes crosses the line.

he knows you have a short temper and gets angry easily, especially when you're tired. most of the time, he'll try to appear calmer to make up for your restlessness, but there are times where he'll purposely get on your nerves.

angry, you end up saying something hurtful to him to make him shut up and go inside your nest to get some rest. he's kinda used to you cursing at him so he doesn't really take it to heart. it kinda amuses him if you ask, he just thinks you're really cute. his adorable omega getting all worked up everytime he messes up with her is truly a sight to see for him.

he's very careful with you though, and that's something people don't usually notice. you tend to do things out of the blue without a second thought and that scares mikey. it's most of the time harmless stuff, but he can't help but worry and think of the worst.

he tries his best to make sure you feel at home and comfortable with him. he doesn't judge you or anything. if you don't want to do anything at all and rest all day, that's fine with him, he'll even help you build your nest!

the only thing he wants from you is to stay loyal to him and never leave him or for you to hurt yourself. he values your health, probably more than you and accepts any of your mood swings with teasing remarks and comforting hugs.

IZANA

he's so whipped he absolutely doesn't care about anything you can do or say to him.

you can suck the money out of his wallet and not even thank him and he'll accept it. you often demand things from him, order him around when you need to do your nest but you're too tired to do so, make him buy you the finest jewelry and lash out at him if you don't get what you want. izana does it all and feels proud to be able to fulfill all of his precious omega's needs.

you often surprise him with your antics. it's not rare for you during one of your manic episodes to engage in risky behaviours and being overconfident. lucky for you izana is always keeping you under his watch and is quick to bring you somewhere safer and eliminate any danger.

he's always impressed at how long you're able to sleep. he'll leave for work early and come back at night and find you at the exact same place. it warms his heart to see his sweet omega looking so peaceful he wants to join you right here right now!

he does his best to keep up with your change in appetite. he constantly buys you a lot of food, the most diverse he can find and lets you do your little selection each day. he does worry when you eat very little though. that's why he tries to buy sweets and snacks he knows you love best. he's able to adapt himself very quickly, that's why he identifies which food you like to have during each episode or depending of your symptoms.

When you reject what he offers you with a scowl on your face, he takes it to heart and actually feel like he somehow failed as your alpha. he listens to any of your requests in hopes to make up for his mistakes.

HANMA

good luck with him tbh.

he met you when you were studying at the library of your university, although you surely were the prettiest omega he had ever seen, you seemed to drive people away from you. you didn't engage in social interactions and answered him with short and cold responses when he tried to make a conversation with you.

he actually is very fond of your extreme mood and snarky remarks : you never hold back your words and he loves it.

he doesn't reciprocate because deep down he cares a lot about you, but he does tease you when you don't seem really sensitive.

hanma absolutely lives for your choices and decisions in life, it doesn't matter how crazy and dangerous they are. he'll follow you and discreetly make sure you don't jeopardize yourself.

he has a lot of money and he'll happily let you spend it. he only asks for a few kisses and affection from you because he knows you hate that. push him away and he'll come back even more in love.

although he supports everything about you, there are things he doesn't tolerate. when you once felt like trying drugs and alcohol together, he took them away from you and looked the most angry he ever had. you would have shaken in fear if you were just any omega : his pheromones were filled with worry and anger, it was a new scent for him who was always so confident.

actually convinces you to quit school to live with him. your episodes make it hard for you to be around others for long periods of times, especially since you're an omega and you're drained easier of your energy. he doesn't understand why you just don't accept being with him 24/7.

you sometimes question why you actually listened to him because he seems to love provoking you. you do threaten him but he doesn't care.

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wrens-wramblings · 2 years

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A massive problem with how fandom - particularly queer rep - is going right now on this website is how quick people are to jump ship onto the next thing and then immediately start trashing the everliving shit out of the old thing.

Steven Universe (not a perfect show by any means) while it was coming out was celebrated constantly. The Garnet reveal? Pearl being in love with Rose? The Rupphire wedding? SU was revolutionary and has been quoted by cartoon creators now for being a big reason people are allowed to bring their stories to life. Say what you want about the show, but it broke boundaries and set precedents for a lot of the shows that you now love. And the show's plot lines regarding the diamonds has been taken in completely bad faith - do yall really think the half Jewish queer person meant for you to get "Let's all forgive Nazis" from the Diamonds redemption arcs??

After Steven Universe ended a large majority of people jumped to She Ra and the Princesses of Power and when they mentioned SU at all it was to put it down as a show with terrible representation and all round bad writing.

During SPOP's run it was massively popular, with a lot of buzz around the main ship, Catradora. I know this is gonna be taken in bad faith so a quick note - while I do like Catradora, I do feel that there should have been another season for Catra to properly acknowledge the harm she did to Adora and actually grow as a person before entering into a relationship. Catra was forgiven too easily, but that was in part due to Netflix not wanting to give the show another season to properly flesh out the redemption arc. The final season was rushed as all hell, and so many story points would have been better with another season to flesh them out further.

But I digress - during the show's run it was constantly talked about for it's representation, having multiple queer characters, including a nonbinary character.

The show ends and again, the fanbase jumps. This time, it's to the Owl House. People start talking about how SPOP was actually horrible representation and, my personal favourite, they "added gay people as a cash grab."

Yeah okay guys, I'm sure a queer nonbinary creator is writing about queer people because they actually dislike the gays and want to wring money out of us. That is definitely the situation here.

And now I'm worried that in a year or two we'll have the next big queer cartoon and the posts will start popping up -

"Amity Blight is the mean lesbian stereotype."

"Raine and Eda's relationship is problematic because-"

"Amity and Luz started out as rivals, which is toxic because-"

"The romance didn't start until later in the show, it was added at the end for a cash grab."

Again, I'm certain there's gonna be bad faith takes on this -- I'm not saying these shows are perfect. They all have flaws somewhere. No media is completely without it's faults and its good to recognise those faults, that what critical reading is. But calling someone an abuser for enjoying SPOP, or a Nazi sympathiser for liking SU (actual accusations I have seen on tumblr.com) is frankly a little ridiculous.

As for the bad rep argument - every show on this list has one thing in common: a queer creator. No one experiences queerness the exact same way - the only thing that harassing queer creators for not showing your experience does is make other queer creators... not want to write queer characters. No one wants to receive death threats because, for example, they based a character with their sexuality off of how that actually affected them and someone on the Internet decided they were feeding into a harmful stereotype.

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14dayswithyou · 10 months

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I can forgive the angel shrine and the all the stuff he keeps in his room and all the nasty stuff Ren gets up to when they think of Angel for longer than 5 seconds but I have never gotten over his red room days, I am also very glad it hasn't been forgotten because it was an experience when I found out for the first time. Like Ren sweetie, I get that you're just a little bit unhinged but wild suggestion, how about we don't do that hmm.

I still love him though so you do you Ren, I guess.

✦゜ANSWERED: There are a few mentions of (brief, nondescript) gore, torture, and horror below; so I'll put it under a read more!! And as always, please be mindful of the tags (and blacklist them if you need to).

But LGDGJKJG Ya mans has gotta do something about all the spare organs and body parts lying around... ^^; I mean, his victims reeeally should've thought twice before saying crude and vile things about you online... And if showing his victims the real meaning of having an online presence (via red room torture streams) is the way to go, then so be it. Ren can easily make a quick buck out of it as well, so it'd be like killing (ha) two birds with one stone.

But please keep in mind that Ren's red room days were fleeting and extremely short lived. It barely lasted a year and he only did it to pass the time — and also because he was able to extract his revenge from those getting too close to you. Ren was already killing people for fun (...kinda??), so it wasn't too far out of his way to stream the process to those who were macabre and morbidly curious.

Also!! Their red room arc also canonically depends on the choices you make in the game as well!! So Ren could either be the #2 dark web streamer... Oooor he could simply be a dark web lurker who never acted upon his violent urges ^^

#💌 — answered.#💖 — about ren.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#cw gore #cw torture #cw horror #Please let me know if you need this tagged as anything else!! ;v;

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rocknroll7575 · 3 months

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Knight of Olympus: Titans Lullaby - Ch.1: Like a Shooting Star

Summary: Jaune Arc fell, however, instead of landing on the beach of the Ever-After, he lands on the beach of Camp Halfblood. It seems like Jaune's life, is truly a Greek tragedy.

XXX

Percy Jackson has had a very long summer, what with the Sea of Monsters as well as the fact that Thalia was back and alive.

Annabeth was happy and Grover was too, and Percy couldn't be more happy fir both of them, as he was sure it was a relief to have her back, however, once she fully regained consciousness, they did have to inform her about the whole... Luke's situation, which he could tell, struck her hard.

Even worse, both he and Thalia would have to stay at Camp for the rest of the summer, or else Luke and the Demi-Gods with him, plus the other monsters, would target them.

But enough about the bad news, some good news was that Tyson had gone down to his dad's domain to work for him there, which Percy was happy to hear, he hoped that he would have a good time, but Percy still felt a little saddened by his departure, but he was sure he'd see Tyson again.

Next to that, everything was working out, and while they still had Luke and Cronus to worry about, Percy was taking a break after a long adventure, now sitting on the beach and looking up at the stars.

"There you are, Percy,"

Percy's head turned around, only to see Annabeth standing behind him. He smiled at her before responding, "Hey, Annabeth" he greeted.

Annabeth walked over and sat down next to him, "What are you doing out here?" She asked.

Percy looked back up to the sky, "Just relaxing," He replied, "definitely need it after everything recently," He told her.

Annabeth nodded in agreement, "I feel you there," she replied with a long sigh

Percy looked at her with a raised brow, "Thalia, how's she doing?" He asked.

"So far, she's doing good, Grover and I had to fill her in on everything she's missed, but she's taking it all pretty well... for the most part," She replied.

"Luke?"

Annabeth nodded.

Percy let out a sigh, knowing a little how Thalia had felt. He had trusted Luke a long time ago, he was a mentor to Percy when he first came to Camp Half-Blood, but after everything he did with Thalia's tree and in the Sea of Monsters, Percy would not forgive him. Percy then quickly put those thoughts aside and looked back to the starry sky, and when he did, he noticed something that was not normal. It looked like a shooting star and appeared as if it was coming closer to them. Percy nudged Annabeth and pointed at the object flying toward them. Both quickly stood up, ready to run should it hit the beach, however, while the object was getting closer, it was not going to hit the beach but instead struck the sea.

"What was that!?" Annabeth asked.

"How am I supposed to know that!? Wouldn't you know!?" Percy asked.

Annabeth looked at him with a raised brow, "Why would I know!?" Annabeth asked.

"You the Daughter of Athena if I recall!" Percy replied.

Annabeth groaned, "Whatever! Look, just go check what it is!"

"Why me!?"

"You're the only one who can technically breathe underwater!"

"Fine!"

Percy ran into the water, but as always, he didn't get wet, as a bubble of air surrounded him and he moved toward where he was sure the object fell into the water. Annabeth watched as Percy was fully submerged under the ocean. Annabeth waited with anxiety, wondering what had fallen into the ocean and hoping she had not just sent Percy to his doom.

After a few minutes, Percy suddenly shot out of the water with someone's arm around the back of his neck, and Percy dragged whoever it was with him.

"Annabeth! Could you help me? Quick!" Percy cried.

Annabeth ran over to the person's other side, put their arm around her neck, and helped Percy drag him back to shore. Once on the beach, they set them down on the sand and turned them over, and that was when they both finally got a good look at the person.

He had short blonde hair that seemed to spike up, and he wore what appeared to be white armor with gold trim, and had navy blue jeans, brown boots, and a red sash wrapped around his waist under a belt.

"Who is he?" Annabeth asked.

Percy shook his head and shrugged, "Don't know, but help me get his armor off, we need to perform-"

The man began to gag and spit up water from his mouth and quickly turned around to spit out more of the water that no doubt filled his lungs and once he was finished, took long and deep breaths.

"Hey! Hey! Are you ok!?" Percy asked as he had his hand on the man's back.

The man didn't answer right away but he turned to Percy with a confused look, "W-Where am I!?" he asked. "Is this Vacuo? No... Vale?"

Percy shook his head, confused about what he was talking about, "No, you're in Long Island," Replied the boy.

The man still seemed confused, "Long Island?" He asked.

Annabeth nodded, "Yeah," she replied, "Do... Do you remember how you got here?" She asked him.

The man seemed to think hard about his answer, "I remember the bridge... I was running to the gate to get to Vacuo before... I fell..." He replied, suddenly it seemed as if he remembered something, "Oh Oum... Penny... I..." he said softly, his voice nearly breaking into a sob.

Annabeth quickly reassured him, "It's alright, everything's fine now," She told him. "Can you tell me your name? Do you remember that?" She asked.

The man slowly nodded, "Yeah... my name is Jaune... Jaune Arc," He replied.

The girl nodded, "Good, good, nice to meet you, Jaune," Annabeth greeted, "My name is Annabeth, and this is Percy," she told him, gesturing to the son of the sea.

Jaune nodded, "Nice to meet you both, but can you please tell me how I got... wherever it is I am now?" He asked, still looking utterly confused.

Percy looked at him, "We saw you fall from the sky and land in the water, you looked like a shooting star, man," Percy told him. "Speaking of that... What... Are you?"

Jaune was confused, "What do you mean?"

"Are you a half-blood?" Annabeth asked.

"A what?" Jaune asked, even more confused.

Both of them exchanged a look and then Annabeth looked back at Jaune, "I think you might wanna come with us back to our camp," She told Jaune, before turning to Percy, "Maybe Chiron or Mr. D will have some answers,"

Percy chuckled, "Chiron, yes, but Mr. D... I don't think he'll care too much," He replied.

Jaune was confused, but he did as the kids said, getting up and following them back to their camp. As they walked, Percy noticed Annabeth taking a few peeks at Jaune here and there, and he was confused as to why she was doing it, but if he had to guess, she was trying to figure out who or what he was, after all, a normal person, even a half-blood, doesn't just fall out of the sky.

Percy was also wondering why he looked almost like a knight, his armor looked way too new, so a time traveler was out of the question, and Percy noticed that Jaune was looking around as if trying to figure out where he was.

Percy decided to try and get as much information out of Jaune as he could, after all, he didn't want to bring in a potentially dangerous person into the camp. "So, you never answered Annabeth's question," Percy said, "Are you a Half-blood?"

Jaune looked at him with a raised brow, "I'd answer if I knew what a Half-Blood was," Jaune replied.

"Half human, half God," Percy told him, "Like me, I'm the son of Posiden, but my mom, was human,"

Jaune seemed to be shocked by this, "Your... Your dad was a god!?" Jaune asked.

Percy nodded, "Yeah, Posiden," Percy told him.

"I... Who?" Jaune asked.

Percy was baffled that Jaune didn't know who his dad was. "You know, Posiden, god of the sea and earthquakes?" Percy said.

Jaune still seemed rather confused, which just made Percy more confused as to how Jaune couldn't know who his dad was, who in their right mind didn't know who the Olympian gods were.

"We're here," Annabeth said.

Percy turned back and saw that they were finally back at the camp, and once they arrived back, they saw a bunch of campers, still up and just training or hanging out, Percy even saw the Stroll brothers planning something, Percy then turned to make sure Jaune was still following behind them, but he saw Jaune appearing to be in shock at what he was seeing.

"What is this place?" Jaune asked.

"Camp Half-Blood, home, and safe haven to all Half-bloods as well as a summer camp for the rest of us who still have family outside," Annabeth told him.

"Ok... gonna have to ask more about that later, but for now, I'll wait," Jaune replied.

After walking through the camp, without Clairesse or her cronies popping up, which Percy thanked the gods for, they arrived at the Big House where Annabeth rushed ahead to see who was inside, and when she entered, she saw Thalia and Chiron in a conversation.

Chiron looked at Annabeth with a raised brow, "Annabeth, what seems to be the matter?

Annabeth looked at the Centaur, "Chiron, we need your help because something strange happened when Percy and I were at the Beach" Annabeth told him.

Chiron looked a little worried, "What happened?" He asked.

"He happened," Came the voice of Percy

They all turned to the doorway where both Percy and Jaune stood, and Jaune simply stood there, eyes wide, no doubt shocked at the appearance of Chiron.

"Who is he?" Chiron asked, his tone laced with worry.

Percy looked at him, "We hoped you would know," He said. "He fell from the sky like a comet!"

Chiron walked over to Jaune and looked at him, examining him for a moment, "What is your name?" he asked.

Jaune was snapped out of his shock as he looked at Chiron, "Uh, Jaune Arc, sir," Jaune said.

"I see... why are you wearing armor?" Chiron asked.

"Well, for protection," Jaune replied.

Chiron sighed with a smile, "Yes, of course, but why are you wearing it? What are you protecting yourself from?" Chiron asked.

Jaune realized what he meant and quickly answered, "Oh, well, from Grimm," He replied

"Grim? Like the brothers Grim?" Annabeth asked with a raised brow.

"Uh... I don't know if I've ever heard them called that..." Jaune replied, referring to his own gods.

However, before more could be said, Mr. D entered the room, a diet coke in his hand and he appeared to be going for the fridge, only to suddenly stop and quickly turn to the group, where his eyes fell on Jaune.

Chiron looked at him, "Ah, Mr. D, we were just-"

However, Mr. held up his hand to silence him as he walked over to Jaune and looked the young man up and down before looking him in the eyes, "Name?" he asked.

"Jaune Arc, and who-?"

"Shush!" Mr. D told him.

Mr. D then proceeded to look him over and then looked at Chiron, "Where'd you find him?" He asked.

"Percy says he fell from the sky," Chiron said.

Mr. D then glanced at Percy and let out a sigh, "Another thing involving you, eh, Peter Johnson?"

Jaune turned to Percy with a raised brow, "I thought your name was Percy?"

"It is!" Percy said with an annoyed groan.

"Whatever," Mr. D said. "Well, he's no half-blood, he's human,"

Chiron looked at him with a raised brow, "But how is that possible?" he asked. "He shouldn't being seeing all of this, much less have passed the barrier if he were human,"

"Because he's not a regular human," Mr. D said. "You're not... from here are you?" Mr. D asked Jaune. "This world, am I right?"

Jaune took a moment to answer but he gave the god of wine a quick nod, "Yeah, wherever "here" is, I'm starting to think so..." Jaune replied.

Mr. D snapped his finger and pointed to the sky as he turned around, "Right!" he said. "Chiron send words to the gods that we've got some big news! Very big news! Gonna have to call an emergency meeting!" He said.

Chiron was confused, "What for?" He asked. "What do you know?"

Mr. D turned around and looked at the Centaur with a smirk, "Because this guest of ours... is not from this world," Mr. D said.

Everyone was confused as to what he was talking about, but Chiron did as Mr. D asked and sent word to the gods about what Mr. D had said and quickly, they all responded quickly and said that the Meeting would happen soon and to bring Jaune to Olympus right away.

Jaune had no idea what was going on, where he was, or who he was going to meet at this "Olympus" but there was one thing Jaune was sure about...

He wasn't on Remnant anymore, and he was sure things were just going to get more complicated... as if they weren't complicated enough.

Jaune's hand touched his side and noticed that Crocea Mors was not strapped to his side, it was gone, yet he could've sworn he had it strapped to his side Jaune looked at Percy, "Hey, Percy, did you see a sword and sheath when you saved me?" he asked.

Percy looked at him and shook his head, "No, why? You had one on you?" Percy asked him.

Jaune nodded, "Yeah," Jaune replied. "But I guess it's gone now," He said.

Percy noticed the sad expression on Jaune's face, "If you want, I can take a look in the area where you fell to see if I can find it, Jaune," Percy replied.

Jaune slowly shook his head, "No, it's alright," Jaune replied. "Let it be lost," Jaune replied.

Jaune didn't want to see that weapon again. But he would... sooner or later.

XXX

Jaune, along with Mr. D and Chiron arrived at the Empire State Building, however, Jaune was given some campe attire before arriving, once they got out of the van, and began walking into the lobby, Jaune looked at Chiron, now sitting in his wheelchair.

"So... how is this going to go down?" Jaune asked him.

Chiron looked at him, "Honestly, I don't know, in all my life, such a thing as a man from another world and appearing in ours has never occurred," Chiron said. "But a word of advice, Jaune, be as respectful as you can, the gods are easily angered,"

"Well, not all of us,"

Jaune jumped as he turned to his right only to see a man. The man had a nice bronze tan, a sun tattoo on his left shoulder, and wore a pair of sunglasses obscuring his eyes. He had sandy blonde hair that seemed to glow brightly and wore a sleeveless light grey shirt, faded jean shorts, and a pair of sandals.

Chiron smiled when he saw the man, "Ah, Lord Apollo, a pleasure," he greeted.

Apollo looked at the Centaur with a smirk, "Sup Chiron, been a while, how are my kids doing?"

"All are well, and out of everyone, it seems Will has picked up your knack for healing, he's been reading a lot of books on the subject," Chiron said with a smile.

Apollo smirked, "Kids gonna do wonders that's for sure," Apollo said. He then turned to Jaune with a smirk, "And you must be the man from another world, eh? Nice to meet you, I'm Apollo, God of the Sun," He greeted.

Jaune smiled at him nervously, "A pleasure to meet you, Apollo," Jaune greeted back, "Jaune Arc, Huntsman," Jaune replied with a smile.

Apollo's brow raised, "Huntsmen? That a job title or something?" Apollo asked.

Mr. D suddenly appeared and nodded, "Yes, turns out where he's from, he hunts monsters called Grimm," Mr. D told Apollo.

"Sick!" Apollo said with a smile, "Also, good to see you D!" Apollo said, greeting his half-brother.

Mr. D rolled his eyes, "Yes, wish I could say the same," He replied, "Now then, I think the others are waiting, so let's not keep them waiting or else," Mr. D replied.

Chiron nodded, "Yes, you three should be off, I will wait down here with the Van," Chiron said. "Good luck, Jaune," Chiron told him.

Jaune looked back at him and gave him a quick nod, "Thank you, Chiron,"

With that, the two gods and Huntsmen went inside and made their way to the elevator, Apollo pressed a button and the four went up, and as they did, Jaune couldn't help but feel himself getting more and more nervous. After all, he was in another world and meeting said Gods of this world, who may or may not decide his fate.

Finally, the elevator stopped and when the doors opened, Jaune was in awe at the sight of the throne room, the chairs were massive and so too, were the gods, each dressed up in certain clothing, some looked ancient, others in more modern clothing.

"Seems that Apollo and Dionysus have arrived," Said Posiden.

"Good then," Zeus said, "Then let them take their seats and we can begin," He said.

Apollo and Mr. D grew larger and walked over to their thrones, sitting on them and facing Jaune, who looked up at them with both shock and awe but quickly snapped out of it as he realized the meeting was about to begin.

Zeus looked at the other gods, "We're gathered here today to discuss Jaune Arc, the man from another world, and to assess if he is friend or foe," Zeus said. "First, Jaune Arc, why have you come to our world? What are your intentions?" the king of the Gods asked.

Jaune looked at him and knew that he must be Zeus since he was the first to speak, "I'll be honest, I don't know how I came here, to your world, as for what my intentions are, I don't know that either," Jaune replied.

"You do not know how you arrived in our world?" Hera asked.

Jaune nodded, "Yes," He replied.

To his left, Posiden leaned over and seemed to try to get a closer look at Jaune, "Well, he is indeed human... but there's something different about him,"

"I see it too," Zeus said. "Tell us what that thing that surrounds your body," Zeus said.

Jaune was confused as to what Zeus had meant, but quickly realized what he may have been referring to, "Do you mean my Aura?" Jaune asked.

"Is that what you call it?" Athena asked. "Interesting... what does this Aura do?" She asked.

"It protects me from any physical damage for a while but gets weaker the more I'm hit, but thanks to my Semblance, it allows me to boost it back fully if it gets too low," Jaune replied.

Athena nodded, no doubt finding the power that the young knight possessed interesting, but still looked at Jaune as if analyzing every inch of him, trying to figure out if he was a threat or not, based on the information of his powers.

Hera looked at the young man, and asked another question, "Tell us about your world, Jaune Arc," she told him.

Jaune nodded, and he explained to the Olympians what Remnant was, the dangers of it, what his and his friend's jobs were, and the threat that he and his world faced. After telling them about his world, Jaune noticed that some of the gods were interested in where he came from, but a few, he couldn't get a read on.

However, instead of asking more questions about his world, Zeus decided to continue the questioning of the young knight. "Tell me, Jaune Arc, what do you remember before you arrived in our world?" Zeus asked.

Jaune gulped, feeling terrible talking about it, but he had to tell them, so he began to tell them about the plan he had made back in Atlas, the bridge, Cinder's surprise attack, RWBY's defeat, and then... Penny's death and his part in it. At that point, Jaune was visibly shaken and he felt the words caught in his throat. However, he took a few deep breaths and continued, telling them how he missed the gate and fell, and then how he was saved by Percy and Annabeth.

The gods were indeed intrigued by the blonde story and were each trying to take all the information in, and after a few minutes, Zeus sat forward and looked at his fellow gods.

"I believe it is time to decide on what to do with Jaune Arc," Zeus said.

Hearing that, Jaune felt his heart nearly stop, as his mind raced with a million thoughts on what they could decide. Would they see him as a threat and kill or imprison him? Would they force him to work for them? Would they try and help him find a way back home?

As Jaune's mind was racing with these thoughts, Apollo sat forward and looked at Zeus, "If I may, I'd like to not kill him or imprison him," Apollo said.

Artemis looked at her brother with a raised brow, "Any reason why, dear brother?" she asked.

Apollo looked back at her with a smile, "I don't see him as a threat, and he could be a great asset to the demigods at Camp Halfblood, " Apollo said. "Plus, I like him, and he hasn't wronged us in any way, so why do anything harmful, when he hasn't proved to be a threat?"

Artemis nodded, "I have to agree with you, brother," She said. "I'm with Apollo,"

"I'd have to agree with my nephew and niece, brother," Posiden said as he looked at Zeus, "We can have him teach the children at Camp, this way we can keep an eye on him, and assess if he's a threat or not, should he be a threat, we can easily punish him, but if he shows he is useful, then we shall trust him,"

Zeus seemed to contemplate what he had heard from the Sun god, before addressing the other 11. "I believe Apollo may have the right idea as well as Posiden," He said. "Jaune Arc will serve Camp Halfblood as the new combat instructor, where he will be monitored by Dionysus and Chiron, and also serve gods like the rest of the Demigods to test to see if he is friend or foe... All in favor?" Zeus asked.

Every god raised their hand in agreement.

Zeus gave a quick nod, "Good," He said, then looking down at the mortal man. "You are dismissed, Jaune Arc, you are to return to Camp Halfblood as soon as possible," Zeus ordered. "And remember, we are watching you,"

Jaune nodded and because he didn't know what else to do, he bowed quickly before looking at the gods. "Thank you, and uh... have a good day," Jaune told them before leaving.

The gods themselves also began to disperse and leave the meeting, and Mr. D walked with Jaune back to the elevator, and the god patted him on the back. "Welcome aboard kid, and good luck," Mr. D told him, "You're gonna need it," He said.

Jaune looked at him with a raised brow, but he had a feeling he was right.

As he left, a certain goddess watched him leave as a million thoughts ran through her head, she didn't like unknowns, and Jaune Arc was now the greatest unknown to her as well as the rest of her family, but she wasn't just going to stand by and watch, she would test him and in those tests, analyze him and figure out if he posed a threat to them all.

She wasn't the goddess of wisdom and battle plans for nothing, after all...

XXX

How was that for a first chapter eh?

Also just to let you all know, another RWBY character will appear in the future, but it's gonna be someone you're not expecting~!

Also, this takes place the same day as Thalia wakes up at the end of Sea of Monsters.

But what do you think is going to happen now that Jaune is in the PJO universe? Who will Jaune team up with? Who will he face off against? Which gods will he piss off? Which gods will take an interest in him? And what will his role be at Camp Half-blood?

Guess you guys are just gonna have to wait and see!

#rwby #jaune arc #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #thalia grace #chiron #dionysus #pjo hestia

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acourtofmenandthirst · 1 year

Text

Then Go (Part II of II)

Cassian x Reader, in which Cassian leaves the Night Court to be with you. I don't think you guys are expecting this ending lol but it was pretty fun to write, not reflective of my thoughts on Tamlin's redemption arc ;) @azsazz came up with the ending (surprise surprise lol)

Part I here!

Word Count: 5.8K

Warnings: fighting (forgive the fight scene ok I hate those), character death

The flight back to Spring was tense.

You and Cassian had only ever had a few arguments over the past couple years - petty squabbles, pointless arguments, superficial bickering - the two of you never had anything to truly fight about. Not that you were fighting, really, but he hadn’t spoken more than six sentences - fragments - in the past few hours.

Even when you two had been at odds, Cassian never shied away; in fact, the male became even more vocal, if that was even possible, always voicing his thoughts and opinions, quipping at you with smartass remarks or snarky comments.

But he hadn’t been speaking; it was… new to you. He came back to his bedchamber utterly beat. And you felt bad, deciding while he was gone talking to Rhys that you’d still pretend you were mad when he came back, sitting back against the headboard with your arms crossed over your chest, just as he left you - you’d let him make it up to you, make you forget all about his friends’ behavior. It was selfish of you, you realized, but Cassian would have been all too eager.

Despite the minimal experience you’d had living with the mating bond, you knew immediately that something was wrong. Normally you felt butterflies through the bond, a fluttering beat, the warm compassion your mate sent you. You’d felt it gone cold, empty while he trained in the war camps, too afraid that it would be a distraction that could cost him his life, or that others could find out and use it against him - or you.

You’d never been in a fight, never served in the war - not like he had, protecting his friends, family, even mere strangers. You didn’t bear scars - not in the way he did, marking up each limb, mangled gashes that lingered over his neck and face, adorned every inch of his wings. He was a male that sacrificed far more than you ever thought possible, and had been on the brink of death too many times to count (too many times than you felt comfortable with, honestly).

But the pain you’d felt that evening in the Night Court - it was the closest thing you could imagine to that pain, to the pain of being torn apart and your corpse cast aside. You felt your heart breaking, the string pulling so hard you thought you might throw up right on the bed.

He needed help.

You couldn’t even clamber to your feet fast enough as he appeared in the doorway, silent - so quiet that even the spymaster himself would have been proud. Barely any words were spoken, just a hauntingly sad glance exchanged between the two of you. It would have been better off if he hadn’t said anything at all. His voice sliced through the air, despite how quiet his words were. His voice was gruff, throat horse - not like the groggy Cassian, tired and not ready to wake up, it wasn’t the sad Cassian, voice cracking and strained. It must have been anger, the irate side of the male you had yet to see up close. “Let’s go.”

It was all he said, tone clipped and terse, that sent chills down your spine - and through the bond.

You were quick to scramble to your feet, almost afraid to approach the male in his livid state. He appeared calm, arms stiff at his sides, but seething, chest rising and falling steadily, forced. Cassian was seeing red; he himself didn’t even know he had that amount of self restraint.

And you’d felt bad - he’d wanted to introduce you to his friends - his family - since virtually the first day you met.

So you weren’t fighting, but you felt guilty for letting him take you to Night. It was a fear you didn’t share with the male - not fully really.

“What if they don’t like me?” What if they don’t like where I come from?

Cassian brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “They’ll love you as I do, (Y/N).” His voice was nothing above a whisper, no hesitation, no doubt, no fear behind his reply.

You had a feeling they wouldn’t approve of your Spring heritage - hell, the prejudice of the Night Court Fae ran high in Spring, too. Many of the goers in your own home court didn’t like the fact an Illyrian soldier lingered in their court - you surely figured the Night Court would feel the same about you. It didn’t matter to any of them - Spring or Night - that the two of you were fated mates. He hadn’t cared about those strangers in Spring who passed him on the street - but you didn’t have an Inner Circle like his: friends and family that would protect him at any cost, even if that meant leaving his mate.

Cassian chose you, though. Despite the faux protection Rhysand and Feyre offered him - they left him with the sour options. They were prepared for him to leave, they knew he would; otherwise, they wouldn’t have given him the choice.

And you didn’t dare say those words, the ones you knew Cassian was waiting for you to utter: I told you so.

That would hurt too much.

You didn’t want to be right. Never in any world would you have wished this pain on your mate - the same pain he’d gone through however many years ago when his mother died, when he was teased endlessly in the camps about being a bastard.

And hundreds of years later, he found himself in the same position: outcast, ostracized by his so-called family.

The only thing that kept him sane was you - clinging to him for dear life as he raced through the courts back to Spring. You didn’t question him, but he knew you quietly understood what had happened between him and the High Lord and High Lady of his home court. He felt your panic through the bond once he’d left that conversation, answering the royalty of the court by turning on his heel and leaving.

Nobody had tried to stop him, either.

Rhys and Feyre did not protest as the male made his way from the room. Not a peep from Morrigan or the other Archeron sisters, who were no doubt listening from the doorway. Cassian felt Lucien lingering, though, Cassian supposed he would be the one male who understood. Amren was nowhere to be seen, Azriel missing as well.

But a shadow swirled around Cassian’s ankle as he ascended the stairs back to his bedroom, a silent promise from his brother that he’d be visiting soon.

Cassian had often been jealous of both of his brothers’ winnowing abilities - he hadn’t felt that way since he was a young male. But he had wished for nothing more in that moment, so he didn’t have to tread down the long halls with his tail tucked between his legs, a hound kicked out of his home.

He landed not-so-gracefully at your front door, knees buckling as he staggered forward, trying his damndest to protect you from the force of impact. The dirt from the street kicked up around you, the dark muck swirling around you - Cassian wished it’d swallow him whole.

He didn’t know what to do. His younger self wanted to fly off without a trace, far north of Windhaven or the other Illyrian camps, punishing himself in the cold. He’d pick a fight with the largest tree he could find, punching the thick bark until his knuckles bled and his fingers broke. He’d fly low and fast, so close to the icy river that flecks of freezing water pricked his skin as the waves crashed through the ice shards below him.

But you were there in his arms, limbs wrapped tightly around him, probably afraid he’d drop you. He flew so fast - he wasn’t sure he’d ever gone that fast while carrying another Fae in his arms, especially not one with such little flying experience. Your face was pressed tightly against his neck, your nose was cold from the windchill that graced the both of you.

Cassian stood there, frozen, right in the middle of the village. He didn’t move - he didn’t know how to move; didn’t know where he should go, what he should do. It wasn’t until you pressed your lips against the frigid skin of his neck that he snapped out of his trance, clutching at you harder, fingers grasping the thick material of your dress. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to the crown of your head.

Hundreds of years of friendship, thousands of battles fought together, millions of fights picked with each other. All traded in for a female he knew for almost just a decade.

A decade he’d spent the better part of keeping you a secret from his family.

Perhaps on some level he expected this, knew how they would treat you.

Not that he doubted you - he hadn’t questioned your love for him, your dedication, your willingness to do the same for him. He didn’t question or curse the Mother, not when she gave him a lovely Spring female.

Gods, he just felt so weird.

Starting from scratch again.

____________________________________

Cassian had to find something to busy himself with.

He no longer had to tend to the Illyrian camps, no training with the Valkyries or battle strategies to hound over.

But old habits die hard - he woke before the sun everyday, utterly exhausted. He wasn’t sleeping well, just reliving that terrible night in his head over and over - what he could have said differently, if he’d made the right choice.

Of course, he’d made the right choice. Choosing you over those who were so ready to cast him out. He just regretted walking out the door without slamming his fist into his brother’s nose.

Cassian suppressed a haggard sigh, shifting in bed to roll you off his chest. Your brows crinkled in confusion, discomfort at the slight change of position. You nuzzled your face into the fluffy pillow, falling back asleep before your mate pressed a soft kiss behind your ear. Cassian eased himself quietly off the bed, twisting and cracking his spine as he flexed his wings in the small room.

Cassian loved your apartment. Quaint, cozy, warm - he’d never truly had a home. Not a house of his own, just staying at his brother’s houses. His mother’s house was burned to the ground when he’d returned for her - he didn’t have many memories of her or the home, but he imagined it would be much like yours: riddled with blankets, too small for his wings to sit upright on his back, a small fire that could somehow warm every room. You’d even gotten rid of most of your blooming plants, opting for just the lush green ones, as the pollen had him waking up with itchy eyes and a runny nose.

He smiled softly as you reached for the pillow beside you, the other half of the bed still warm from where he laid with you. But he’d spend the morning training in the Spring forest, and would return home before you woke.

He donned his Illyrian leathers - despite many attempts to leave them behind, he couldn’t find anything as comfortable to train in. No clothes could carry as many weapons, couldn’t keep him warm as he flew laps around the court. By the time he fully dressed and was out the door, the sun was already peeking through the town, orange light shining at the end of the street as Cassian took off in a run, sprinting through the town and making his way to the woods.

He relished the time he could be alone, where the village was empty and there were no strangers, no Fae staring nor children pointing at his wings. Normally, the male was confident enough to push pass that all, or nicely answer questions when they stopped him in the street. You were always hanging on his arm, speaking kindly with your neighbors. Many of them were nice - simply interested in the foreign male - but there were a few that threw glares, and a couple territorial males that growled at him as they passed by.

But that’s why Cassian kept training - just in case. That, and he was a restless male.

He wove through the trees, pulling his heavy sword from where it laid snugly between his wings, and slashed at the drooping branches and thick vines. His wings unfurled behind him, dragging against the wind as they slowed him. They ached, spent too long curled up underneath him as he slept last night, they hung off the bed haphazardly on the other nights. Cassian smiled to himself, imagining a home the two of you could build together - big enough for him, cozy enough for you to fill with those green plants and comfy furniture.

Cassian spent the morning throwing rocks and doing push-ups, climbing the rope-like vines and practicing his knife-throwing. He’d had half a mind to fashion himself an Illyrian bow - carve it from the thick bark of a healthy tree, strong enough to send the arrow even as far as the Night Court.

He pulled his thick dark hair behind his head, tying the sweaty strands back with one of his leather bands. His ear twitched when he heard the rustling of the trees behind him. His wings shot up immediately, perked up behind him ready for a fight. The sun was almost fully up, rays of light shining through the tall trees. But the brush was dense, he couldn’t quite make out what was making the noise.

“Azriel?” He called, stepping closer to the line of trees. His brother had a tendency to play tricks on him, attack him where he was least expecting.

But he knew Azriel would have been silent.

Cassian didn’t know what lingered in the Spring forest, the small and large creatures that lived amongst the flora. There was no answer, not even the continued rustling of leaves and dry sticks. The male’s eyes traced the outline of the thicket, unable to make out any threat. With a huff he stretched his wings and took to the skies, circling around the woods to cool off before he headed home.

He pushed himself into the bedroom as you were just waking up, stretching in bed when he caught your eye. You smiled, the bond in your chest unfurling with warmth as he approached the bed. He bent over the mattress, offering you a kiss in greeting. You hummed a reply, curling your arms around his neck, trying to pull him back to bed.

Cassian chuckled, hoisting you up instead. “Let me at least bathe before I take you in the bed,” he whispered against your lips, tucking an arm underneath your legs and holding you close to his chest.

You smiled, nuzzling your neck against his dewy skin. “You do smell,” you mumbled, arms circling around his neck. “But I don’t care.” You pecked his cheek. “I don’t like waking up without you.”

Your mate huffed, kicking open the bathing room door. “You’re more than welcome to come train with me.” He set you on your feet and cupped your face, holding your jaw in his palms. You rose on your tiptoes, letting the male press a firm kiss to your lips.

Your hands encircled his wrists, holding him still as you met him in the middle. “Then I’d smell just as bad as you - plus I need my rest. Besides, you always manage to find other ways to tire me out, after all.”

Cassian smiled, showing all his teeth. Nothing but pure adoration lacing his features.

He found that each morning he saw your face shining in the rays of light peeking through your small bathroom window, the pain of leaving his court lessened each day. The bond in his chest was stronger than ever, constantly humming with activity and bursting with love.

The two of you bathed each other, something that had become part of your sacred morning ritual. You shut your eyes and leaned your head back as he washed your hair, his fingertips running over the sensitive part of your scalp behind your ears. You washed his back and wings, paying special attention to where he’d always somehow managed to cake mud at the base of the wing where it stemmed from his back.

You’d waited until you were mated - you’d picked up on the fact that despite their size, they were quite private. Always held high and proud, you admired them from a distance, afraid to even run your finger along the wide bone that stemmed from Cassian’s thick muscled back. It was months after you’d officially mated in secret - even after you’d rode through the frenzy. Cassian took your hand in his and traced everywhere he liked to be touched. So strange, having never even seen a male with wings, then to be mated to one. You didn’t know where to begin.

The more time Cassian spent frequenting your small home in Spring, the more comfortable you grew with the wide leathery wings. You’d explored what made him tick - where to touch him to make him cum, how to oil the leather, how to properly wash them, which of his muscles were sore after a long flight, how to relieve the tension. Cassian eventually had trouble falling asleep in his home court, without your fingers mindlessly tracing patterns against the soft flesh.

After your bath, your mate wrapped you in a plush robe, dressing himself in the soft sweater you’d gotten him as a birthday gift last year - a Spring evergreen color that brought out his eyes. You’d even taken one of his knives and sliced wing holes through the back and sewed buttons along the bottom. It was haphazard, not as precisely done as the thick ones he donned from the Illyrian Mountains. But he assured you that he loved it nonetheless.

“Some tea, dear?” You asked, already filling the kettle for more than enough for two cups.

He nodded in response, already slicing up the bread for breakfast. Cassian had a habit of preparing himself a cooking-snack, already digging into a plate of bread with jam and cheese as the eggs cooked on the stove. You weren’t sure he had a favorite meal of the day - every time he ate was damn near a feast.

Though, you supposed you couldn’t complain. Your home was always stocked to the brim with fresh pastries, breads, the finest roasts, and more potatoes than you could count.

You wouldn’t complain about his size, either.

Cassian sneezed as soon as you opened the kitchen window, a small breeze blowing through the house. He rolled his shoulders back and continued to stuff a slice of cheese in his mouth before tending to the eggs.

Your shoulders shook with a flinch as you heard a firm knock on the door, followed by what sounded like a kick.

Cassian watched you, pausing mid-chew as his eyes flitted between you and the door. You held your hand up at him, stopping him in his tracks as he already started moving towards the living room. “Let me see.” Your mate cocked a brow, wiping his hands at his pants. But Cassian nodded, watching you stalk to the door.

It wouldn’t be uncommon for your neighbors to visit, to bring you some extra pastries or flowers, to stop by for a chat or ask to borrow some flour. You were fairly certain some of the younger females came by to ogle at your mate, especially for a chance to see him when he’d cook shirtless. It never failed to make him blush and scramble for something - anything - to cover up with.

But that morning, you didn’t expect to open the door and come face-to-face with the High Lord.

His eyes were narrowed, jaw set and filling the frame of the door. His hands were balled into fists at his side, knuckles white in strain. Tamlin’s blond hair was long past his shoulders, where he normally kept it trimmed and tame, it was unruly, jagged edges frayed and burnt.

Your heart stopped in your chest, stricken with fear when you met those piercing green eyes. Purple half circles laced his under eyes, dark marks carved into his high cheekbones. The white shirt he wore was frayed, dirtied, and hung loose on his frame. His eyes didn’t leave yours, not to search around your living room, not to Cassian who’d no doubt drawn his knives in the kitchen. Tamlin’s voice was like gravel. “I can smell him.”

“High Lord, sir - I - ” You stuttered a response, offering him a half-assed curtsey. Your hands shook as you grabbed at your robe, pulling it tighter around yourself.

Despite how much you’d wanted to defend him after your stint in the Night Court, you’d never actually met the male - never seen him up close, even. But he stood - absolutely raging - at your front door and you were shocked.

You felt the heat of a familiar Illyrian approaching behind you, his wings splayed out for intimidation - for preparation, you thought, unsure of what fight was about to unfold at your front door. “You’re not welcome in my court.” Tamlin’s eyes flicked upwards, above your head, surely meeting where Cassian stood at your back.

“She’s my mate,” Cassian began, gruffly but level. Not looking for a fight. “Where she goes, I go.”

Tamlin didn’t flinch. “She’s of the Spring Court - she’s mine.”

You took a step away from the High Lord, right into the brick wall that was Cassian’s chest. His arms landed on your arms, warm hands wrapping around your shoulders. He held you firmly in front of him, against him - your heartbeats synced. Cassian’s calmness flooded through the bond, the peace before battle; alert, but ready. Ready to throw you out of the way should he so need to.

“She’s not yours, not even because she’s Spring.” Cassian’s grip tightened as he leveled the High Lord in front of you; the one you’d dared to defend in front of his own High Lord and High Lady - of his previous court, he supposed. “I’m not here to cause any trouble.” He took a deep breath, one in which would allow him to force the next words out of him: “I am seeking refuge.”

To which Tamlin almost let out a huff of air - humor in his eyes. “Refuge,” he tested the word, grimacing at the bitter taste. “What do you know of refuge? And what about it in my court?” Tamlin drew his shoulders back. “You aided that bitch in destroying my - ”

Cassian ushered you out of the way, leaving you stumbling a few steps off in the living room as he approached the High Lord. “What you did to your own court - ”

Then Tamlin lunged.

He drew his claws, sharp and jagged, aimed directly at Cassian’s face. But the Illyrian was too quick, drawing a hidden knife from his pants.

You squinted - how he managed to hide that in his linen pants -

Cassian’s wings splayed out behind him, balancing the male as he stepped backwards and threw the High Lord off of him, angling the blade between them, right under Tamlin’s jaw.

Tamlin pushed himself up on all fours - to be fair, you’d never seen his wolf form, only heard stories and rumors about the shifter male, but gods he was already animalistic enough. He jumped at Cassian again, who stumbled backwards through the doorway, and between Tamlins punches, he raised the knife upward, aiming right for his side.

The High Lord squirmed away, the blade only narrowly meeting his skin. “Get away from me if you know what’s good for you,” Cassian growled, wings bent against the wooden boards of your front porch. You yelped, hands coming up to cover your mouth as you watched with wide eyes, the two males grappling and hitting each other before you.

“Get out of my court,” Tamlin barked, reaching for Cassian’s throat.

His claws never met your mate, Cassian had grabbed his wrist and twisted it to the side, awkwardly angling Tamlin’s arms, which only infuriated him further. “You’re out of practice,” Cassian spat. “Your court is a wreck.” Tamlin kicked his legs, scrambling to pull himself from his captor. Cassian kneed him in the gut, earning a cough from the shifter. “And you fight like a bitch.”

Tamlin bared his teeth, snapping at Cass. He reached for the blade tucked into his boot, to which Cassian kicked the male off him, onto the street below. Tamlin grabbed the blade and slashed, slicing through your mate’s sweater. Cassian returned the gesture, slicing at his chest, to which he drew blood from the High Lord.

Cassian took a step back, admiring his warning cut, flaring his wings behind him. The dirt spurred around the males at the flap of his wings. He’d take to the air if that wouldn’t give him the unfair advantage. But the High Lord wouldn’t quit, he threw his knife straight for your mate.

The blade landed only in his shoulder, though, nothing the Lord of Bloodshed hadn’t dealt with before. And as Tamlin jumped for the Illyrian one last time, Cassian had no choice but to pull the knife from his wound and hold it straight before him, right to where Tamlin had thrown himself.

The knife was sharp, he had to hand it to Tamlin. It sank easily into him, into that stone cold heart he’d heard so much about.

The High Lord’s hands didn’t even grasp his shoulders as he slumped before the warrior, body sagging before him at his feet.

You felt the bond quiver, the utter shock Cassian felt at the action. You were frozen in the doorway, beyond belief with how quickly that escalated - you couldn’t even process it.

Neither could your mate.

Cassian stood over the blond male, laying bloody and limp on the dirt road before him.

It wasn’t the first male he’d killed.

It surely wouldn’t be the last.

He felt your arms around him, you’d flung yourself to his side. You wove your arms around his chest, burying your face into the crook of his arm. Your racing heart leached through the bond, racing at a pace similar to his own. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the fallen High Lord - the one who he had killed.

He clutched at your back, fisting the plushy robe as he dropped to his knees. His chest constricted as if his lungs collapsed,

A panic attack, his mind was reeling, his heart beating so fast he was sure he’d choke on his own blood surging through his veins. What a fucking perfect time. He’d come to terms with his role many centuries ago - warlord, killing for the goodness of others.

He’d just killed Tamlin.

His body felt heavy, the weight on his shoulders suddenly soul crushing.

Cassian raised his head as your hands clutched his shoulders. His heart hammered in his chest. His eyes raised from Tamlin’s cold body, but not to you - to everyone else. The neighbors had trickled out of their homes, standing along the sidewalk and in the grass. Some with their jaws agape, others holding onto their loved ones, a few crying, even fewer smiling.

Your mate watched as one by one, they bowed.

Tamlin had no kin. No family left, no lineage, no appointed heir from the Mother.

Cassian had become High Lord of the Spring Court.

“Fuck.”

____________________________________

You took Cassian to the Spring Court estate a few days later. His shoulder had healed in the meantime, which gave him the time to convince him to settle into his new role. It took a lot of initial processing, plenty of overthinking, and many hours spent pacing around your small cottage. The male was in utter disbelief - “is this even possible?” “I don’t want to be High Lord.” “I didn’t mean to kill him.”

He was confused… scared, even, you could see it.

Shit, it would be a lie to say you weren’t.

But all you could do was take it one step at a time. The Mother chose this path for him, and he had no other choice but to accept it.

You walked hand in hand through the destroyed estate, the fallen walls and piles of stones along the floor. The furniture had molded, what with the rain that fell through the holes in the ceiling, your footsteps didn’t even make an echo with how much debris lay around the halls. Creatures skitted through the rooms, slithering and burrowing between piles of rocks and destroyed foliage. Just a testament to how much there was to rebuild.

“What do I know about being High Lord?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What did Feyre know about becoming High Lady? She couldn’t even read.”

Cassian gave you a flat look. “She’s still my friend, you know.”

“Is she?” You challenged his gaze. “She and her mate kicked you out of your court - your home -”

“They didn’t kick me out.” Cassian stopped in his tracks, holding up his hand to correct you - and you arched a brow at him. “I left.” You pressed your lips together. “I want to build my home here, with you.”

You smiled, stepping close enough to him that your elbows brushed against his sternum. “You’re not saying that because you have to, right? Now that you’re stuck here with me?” You couldn’t hide your teasing smile.

Cassian smiled behind a breathy laugh, the first genuine one you’d heard in about a week. “Not because I have to.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, curling an arm around you as you two continued roaming the ruins of what you supposed would be your new home.

“Are you going to talk to them?”

He knew exactly who you were talking about. But he only offered a shrug. “I guess I have to, huh?”

“You don’t have to… I’m not really sure how all this works.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You wished you had better answers, you wished you could comfort your mate with the truth. But you didn’t know what would happen, you didn’t know the first thing about court royalty.

You hadn’t heard anything from the Night Court, uncharacteristic, you thought, considering their constant meddling in the past. Lucien had sent word to Cassian, the second day after the Spring Court title had shifted, offering himself as emissary to the Night Court. Nothing much from Autumn, nor Winter. Helion, of course, sent congratulations along with an invitation for dinner and more - he was pleased his ‘good friend’ Cassian had joined their club.

Cassian felt the air shift, the cold that washed over him as a dark misty shadow curled around his ankle. He peered over his shoulder, meeting the cobalt siphons behind him.

You eyed the other Illyrian, offering him a nod of your head in greeting. He mirrored the gesture.

“I’m going to the gallery,” you offered, turning from Cassian and his brother, quietly making your way down the hall. Cassian sent a strum through the bond, thanking you, and offering a promise that he’d join you momentarily.

“High Lord?” Azriel teased once you’d disappeared down the corridor, offering a mock bow to his brother.

“You’ve been spying on me?”

Az shrugged. “I have eyes everywhere. Not specifically on you.” Cassian smiled. “I’ve seen far too much of you in my lifetime.”

“Did Rhysand send you?”

Azriel shook his head. “He doesn’t know I’m here.” But as his brother was uncharacteristically quiet, the Shadowsinger continued. “Trading in Lord of Bloodshed for High Lord of Spring then?”

Cassian rolled his eyes and punched him in the shoulder, a bit too hard. “I think I prefer the first one,” he grumbled.

Azriel eyed his brother, watching how he gnawed on his lower lip and how his hazel eyes flitted around the room. “You’ll be fine, Cassian. You’ve won too many wars to count and led how many soldiers into battle?” Az clapped a hand on his back. “You weren’t General of the Night Court Armies for nothing… consider this a promotion.”

Cassian rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “Yeah well I suppose I’ll be meeting with my colleagues soon enough.” The dread dripped off his voice. He scratched the back of his head, running his hands through his tangled black hair. “I suppose I’ll be needing a shadowsinger, if you’re interested in warmer weather and a bit more sunshine.”

Azriel smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind, brother.” With a ruffle of his wings, Az prepared himself to winnow out. Cassian was sure Rhysand would have his head if he found out he spent too long in the Spring Court - or with him. “Good luck.”

Cassian bid Azriel goodbye and made his way through the estate halls, kicking the crumbled stones and stepping harshly over the broken glass. He watched the dust pool up in the corners as he wandered the corridor, crossing into the gallery. His eyes washed over the shredded canvas, greens, purples, blues - no red. He recognized Feyre’s art - he’d seen enough of it throughout the River House… and the Town House and the House of Wind.

All of her works were ripped up, clawed through until there was nothing but colorful cloth strewn about the marble floor. The art that remained hung on the walls showed the expanses of the Spring forests, sparkling lakes, and vast meadows. Perhaps one day Cassian would make it out to explore the landscape.

He found you in the corner of the gallery, where the windows had been broken out and the forest started growing in. The vines and trees crawled through the room, ivy growing along the stone walls and bright flowers blooming in the shrubbery. He rubbed the tears away from the corner of his eye before approaching you.

“I know it’s not much,” you sighed, gazing up at the painting of the orange poppy fields that hung high on the wall. “But it’s Spring…” You felt Cassian wrap his arms around your waist, holding you tightly, back pressed against his chest. Your fingers trailed over his forearms, tracing over the rigid muscle before burying his hands in yours. “It’s home.”

“It’s my home, too. The Illyrian Steppes are too cold anyway.” He nuzzled his nose into your neck, pressing a kiss to your pulse point.

“We’ll have to do something about your allergies, though.”

He groaned. “I don’t have allergies.”

“My whole neck is covered in your drippings.”

Cassian wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “There’s nothing coming out of my nose - I don't know what you’re talking about.” You twisted in his grasp, wrapping your arms around his large waist. He shrugged his wings, blinking a few times to clear the fog from his itchy eyes.

Damn the Spring Court. It couldn’t have been the Summer or Dawn Court?

He had to be the High Lord of a court he was godsdamned allergic to.

#cassian #acotar #cassian x you #cassian/you #cassian x reader #cassian/reader #acosf #fanfiction

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wildissylupus · 9 months

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Ok I want to talk about Genji seeing Cassidy as a brother because I do think this has importance to Genji's arc. Specifically in Genji's journey in forgiving Hanzo and him realizing that not only Hanzo, but Cassidy too, have gone through a lot more then Genji himself realized at the time.

Let's start off with Hanzo, now it's no secret that Hanzo and Genji weren't close, especially later in life, but something I think is forgotten is that Genji was very unaware of what Hanzo was doing, how he felt and what he was going through. We see this in a few of their interactions;

Genji and Hazno, though they came from the same family, are from two very different worlds. Even after the amount of help Genji has gotten, when it comes to Hanzo he still seems to struggle a bit with understanding certain aspects of their past.

And though we don't see this shown at it's extreme with Hanzo, we do see it with Cassidy;

The first quote shows us that at the time Genji didn't really understand why Cassidy was upset, and when given an explanation (though simplified) he still didn't really empathize. Then the second one needs a bit more digging, see the first time we see Cassidy smoking in canon is in the Retribution after the Oslo attack and presumably after Liao death. After a traumatic incident. Now this may seem inconsequential but here's the thing, we see Cassidy and Genji banter in Retribution and we also see other characters be mentioned, so why would Genji not make a quip about Cassidy smoking if he had done it for awhile, or at the very least not mention at any point that Angela wanted him to stop.

To me the second quote from Storm Rising is Genji talking about a more recent development, or at the very least Cassidy smoking more frequently after Retribution (I don't blame him).

Now this isn't to blame Genji, during his time with both Hanzo and Cassidy he was going through his own issues, but it is important to note because Genji probably only realized what Cassidy was going through while he was with Zenyatta. Which would have lead him to think about other things he missed. Like the presure that Hanzo was under, the things about Hanzo that he missed before.

This point is even furthered by Genji seeing Cassidy as a brother because imagine the guilt he felt?

Imagine realizing you made the same mistake twice but with the second time you don't hold that same anger towards the person?

It also seems that Genji never really showed how much Cassidy really meant to him back during the first Overwatch. We also see that Genji takes a similar tone with Cassidy as he does with Hanzo, except with Cassidy it isn't just a short conversation but Genji seemingly wanting to help Cassidy deal with some of his issues and rectifying the mistake Genji made in the past.

And I honestly like the contrast this gives to the dynamic presented between Genji and Hanzo. From what I've found Genji and Hanzo only really have quick two line interactions, not only that but there more statements then Genji trying to help Hanzo through his issues.

And honestly I like this more then the common take of Genji being the one to help Hanzo through his issues, because Genji shouldn't have to. Yes Genji didn't notice the pain Hanzo was in, but Hanzo tried to kill Genji. It shouldn't be Genji's responsibility to help Hanzo. It's honestly why I like that Hanzo and Kiriko are being paired up more, Hanzo still does need someone to help him and it can't really be anyone new to him, so Kiriko is probably the best option.

Any way that's a little tangent from me today!

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch lore #overwatch headcanons #analysis #cole cassidy #genji ow #genji overwatch #genji #genji shimada #ow hanzo #hanzo shimada #hanzo #shimada brothers #blackwatch bros

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ms0milk · 1 year

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𝟏 | 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"The prince meets you with a ferocity that probably stops people’s hearts and with his mother’s halo of silvery hair and decisive eyes, it’s lovely enough to stop yours too."

no cw big time fairytale castle, blunt bkg & silly co. reader's a lil stiff bc character arcs aren't built in a day, let the slowburn begin. i am not immune to aizawa in any universe. author does not attempt to hide how very badly she wants to ******* *** **** bkg's mama. 3.9k

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Waking up is so peaceful this morning. Gentle and warm.

"..…"

That sweet kind of rise between waking and dreaming, where you’re able to say goodbye to your dreams and the people in them with a tip of your hat and wave goodbye. Forgiving and patient.

“..Y/n…”

The queen was in your dreams tonight. And you were back in your hometown– you’re there now. The fields are golden and heavy before autumn harvest and your neighbors have no need for locks on their doors. She is beautiful today, and she is your sister, your mother, your Lady when you try to look past the sun’s rays to her face. Up, up, up into her eyes, why can’t you find what you’re looking for? Higher and higher until it’s the stars you’re on your knees for.

“Y/n.”

You jolt at the sudden sensation of falling with a quick and panicked grip on your pillow but you’re back in your room, stuffed mattress and all. Every part of your body is grounded to woolen blankets and the weight at your feet. Someone laughs at the foot of your bed when you sigh in relief and you jump again, because this time it’s the queen.

“I’m sorry to wake you.”

She smiles behind her hand. You’re staring. And then it’s been a second too long before you gather yourself like a member of the castle with some respect and make a move to stand for formal greetings. But you only get as far as sitting up when she stiffs her palm to your forehead.

“Stay.”

From your spot still tucked in bed you muster a, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The queen’s hair is wild and silvery by the light of a candle she holds at her chest. The only light in the room. Heavy fur cape clasps fit neatly into the bodice of her nightgown– gown almost wasn’t the right word. You love her. There isn’t a citizen alive that doesn’t love her.

“I have a question for you, Y/n.”

“Anything, Majesty.”

What time is it? Your curtain is drawn, but still there doesn’t seem to be any morning light trying to peek through.

“My son’s been invited east to celebrate a new observatory.” The queen pulls a once-neatly-wrapped envelope from her pocket, “the end of some momentous constructional undertaking or another,” she laughs. She extends her hand to you and smiles at just how dumbstruck you still seem to be by candlelight.

“I’m sorry it’s so early.”

“Not at all.” You move too quickly and too slowly somehow– you curse yourself– while taking it from her, and feel like a silly child the way she has you perched against your pillows. In your nightclothes for gods’ sake,

“I just received word from a Takoba messenger. A letter from their queen.”

You nod to her. Turn the letter over in your hands until it falls open.

“He’s leaving today and I would very much like you to accompany him.”

Dumbstruck doesn’t describe how you look anymore, doesn’t do it justice. Your apartments on Castle Southside feel less like a single modest room and more like the very stables you live above, wholly unfit for royalty. She’s still smiling at you. You’re still goddamned tucked-in.

“Majesty, me?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

You jolt up again and catch yourself in a way that seems amusing to her, “Not at all Your Majesty! But wouldn’t– shouldn’t Master Jeanist go?”

“Jeanist stays with me.”

And you realize in horror– truly too many emotions at this point for one woman to manifest only minutes after waking up– that you implied the queen may have made a mistake.

“Don’t apologize,” she catches you before you can open your sleep-addled mouth again, “Captain of the Guard stays with me. But you’ve trained with Jeanist for years Y/n, you’re going to be my son’s Captain, I know you will.” She’s scooting closer to you and gods, she’s taking your hand, “Can I trust you with this mission?”

It feels fuzzy in the room when she uses your name.

“With anything.”

Queen Mitsuki handed over one more letter before leaving you to prepare for your morning shift. Just a thank you card, she’d said. For you to deliver to the eastern queen, the Queen of Takoba.

As long as it was her asking you’d be able to do anything, although she may have a touch too much confidence in your future. Captain of he Royal Guard? Spending the most time with Jeanist doesn’t mean you have a future as his successor, only the next monarch can decide that. Spending the most time with Jeanist only means that you don’t have any friends.

The click of your heels down the stone hallway line up with another’s as you round the corner to your station. A tree today.

Trees and wildlife grow freely in the Bakugous’ Aldera Castle and make the palace warm even in the dead of winter. Knobbly trunks and grasping vines twist in and out of windows, fruit rolls down the halls in fall. Squirrels and birds get in so regularly that members of the guard each have one shift a week exclusively for helping the creatures get back out.

Fresh air never feels far away. In the springtime you are all tasked with sweeping blossoms off the castle floors before they wither or trip a royal guest, and from the very second the first magnolia blooms in March you’re swimming in flowers til June.

Jeanist stands under the lichen of Castle Southside’s oak tree when you arrive, and the soldier he was speaking to has already strode away. Tall, black hair.

The oak tree is four stories tall to have an arm reaching this far inside and is older than any member of the castle is able to recall accurately. It is precious family. It reaches up and over the banister at the edge of the hallway and dips down into the library like a leafy chandelier, causing much headache in autumn when the tallest ladder ever made is procured for the poor novice whose job it is to clean the books underneath of it.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

“Sir.”

Jeanist only smiles under the high collar of his red uniform. You rarely get the chance to stand beside your mentor anymore, now that the prince is getting older and needs a senior guard on diplomatic errands. You love the way your uniforms look in a line together– feel next to each other. Yours are the only two of their kind and your mentor made these himself. Blood red gambeson and white bone pin clasps. You assume your position beside the tree and stare dead ahead, happy, if only for a second, if only on the inside, to belong once again to this group of two.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, sir?” You don’t break eye contact with the far wall. It’s still relatively dark on the fifth floor of Southside and so all you have to entertain yourself is a tapestry you’ve memorized every stitch of, until another soldier comes to relieve you.

“Did you speak with the Queen?”

“Yes, sir. Early this morning.”

“Earlier than dawn?” Jeanist chuckles and turns to gaze out the window through the ancient knots of the oak tree. The sun crests the mountains somewhere farther than you’ve ever traveled and spills into the folds of his uniform. It warms the back of your head. “What did you tell her?”

“That I would be honored to comply with Her Majesty's request.”

“And how do you feel?”

“Privileged, sir.”

“Y/n,”

Your eyes tug at your periphery, confused by the general chatiness of the old guard this morning.

“I’m proud of you.”

Your head turns fully at this, in surprise and without your permission, and you realize it hasn’t yet struck you to ask why he’s at your post in the first place.

“Master Jeanist?”

“Go on.” He’s looking at you too now, he’s been doing it the whole time, “They’ll leave without you at this rate.”

You stare for another two seconds at this strange mentor of yours. You try to keep your heart from spilling onto the floor is actually what you do; it’s all you can manage.

“Yes, sir.”

If anything you’ll be the first of the entire party to arrive in the Great Hall, but you still let Jeanist assume your position in front of the oak and even turn in surprise again when he rests a hand on your shoulder as you’re making to leave. He taps one of your small golden earrings with a gentle finger and with his other hand unclasps the dragontooth brooch from his breast.

“How long did you stare when the queen spoke with you this morning?”

Your ears go hot immediately under his knowing gaze, but he only smiles. He pulls your hand forward and rests the dragontooth in your palm with an amount of pressure that can only mean, be careful. And so you will, you determine, and turn to make your way to collect your things.

“Word of advice!”

In a neverending morning of spinning, you drag your foot and face him again. Jeanist is nearly laughing and trying very well to hide his worry, “If you stare at the prince the way you have the tendency to do, he might just take your head off.”

He doesn’t get to see you smile often, but it does feel fitting now for you to nod your goodbye to him with that sneaky grin of yours he loves so much.

“He might try, sir."

It didn’t take more than a few months in the castle, at six years old, for the prince to rectify his opinion of you. To clarify his disdain in the event that his mother’s favoritism towards the orphan gave anyone the wrong idea about his personal priorities. Though it hardly mattered. Hundreds of new faces fill the castle every year and he had forgotten yours just as quickly as you had been whisked into Jeanist’s care to begin your training and earn your keep.

Today your satchel is packed, your hair’s braided back, and the prince thinks no more or less of you than he always has. Indifference will make your job easy.

The whole sprawling maze of stone buildings warm in the morning sun as you make your way to Castle Northside, although autumn is close and soon heavy curtains will need to be draped over windows and trees. Soon too, it’ll be time to sweep fallen leaves out of the hallway and collect ripe peaches from the branches of the western stairwell. You’ll need to have your winter uniform cleaned when you return so the white fur of the collar glows, because when the queen happens to see you on duty she always remarks on how well you care for her colors.

Even your earrings– tiny suns, gold and dangling– represent your love for Aldera down to the smallest detail. They were a gift from her, and you swell when her eyes jump from one carefully polished detail on your body to the next. Jeanist always says that she’s the most meticulously crafted person he’s ever met. You know that’s why he loves her. Each giant winter cape in her collection drops her into the background of some priceless painting or ethereal scene and for this reason alone, winter is your favorite season.

Sometimes in the cold weather, when she sneaks to the kitchen in the middle of the night, Her Majesty wears heavy battle gauntlets to stay warm and looks altogether too silly and beautiful in delicate furs and armored gloves. If you’re on duty overnight, she’ll bring you a warm loaf of bread and whisper something to the tune of, “I’ll call another guard to your post, I don’t like you staying up so late.” Or “Hide under my cape and I’ll sneak you to bed.”

It is just at this moment of routine admiration that, out of an auxiliary hallway to the kitchen, pops a tall boy you’ve never seen before wearing white soldier’s greaves. On top he’s in a worn undershirt like you’ve just walked in on his getting changed– well– he just walked in on you– while getting changed– more importantly, he knows your name and he calls to you as he approaches.

“Yes soldier?”

His limbs are knobbly and his mouth hitches uncomfortably upwards when he finally gets close enough to you to speak, “Hanta actually, Sero Hanta.”

Tall and disrespectful.

“What is it, soldier?”

“Master Jeanist sent me to get your halberd from the smithy but when I came back you–”

“I don’t keep my halberd in the smithy.”

He shifts his weight between two legs too long for his greaves like he has somewhere else to be, “Well whoever’s it is, Kirishima has it now and we’ve all been searching Southside like madmen trying to find–”

“Who–” You shake your head and turn to face him fully now, “Stop, why does Master–”

“Sero! Oh my everloving gods you found her!” Another boy, quite blond, scrambles out of a different hallway– oh, he’s tripping on the decorative runner– out of breath to the soldier’s side. “Kirishima–”

“You found her!” Yet another voice shrills over the banister of the hallway above. This one belongs to a lithe pink girl and she hops the last five stairs to land at your side, “Don’t you look nice today Miss Guard.”

“Excuse me?”

She’s already moved on, “Where’s Kirishima?”

You have half a mind to take the closest person by the arm and hold them for questioning. How have they gotten so far into the center of the castle unaccompanied? Who do they belong to?

“Identify yourselves.”

“No time for that,” Soldier Sero snaps and links a hand under each of his companions’ arms, “We’ll parse out introductions once we’re not all about to be hanged.” Without direction or permission, the three of them are down the last stretch of hallway quicker than north wind through bare branches and great iron doors scream open.

You’ve walked the Hall ten thousand times and so the gold trim and the two-story fireplace and the relentless smell of pine and the rows of mismatched wooden tables long enough to seat an extended family of dragons, only bring tears to your eyes sometimes. The floor is cobbled with river stones that catch fruit and nuts in their grooves but glow purple and red like hot glass when the sun comes in through the windows. It gets hotter than a roosted hen when it’s full of staff at mealtimes so you take your dinner elsewhere when it’s time to retire.

It’s too cramped. You’ve never managed large crowds in tight spaces very well, so times like these are precious, when it’s empty before breakfast and still clean from the night's housekeeping. Except it’s not empty now, is it? There are three fools and two brand new strangers loitering in front of the fireplace at the other end of the room, just waiting for you to call for reinforcements. Sero begins to take off his pants–

“Soldier!” You shout down the Hall almost as quickly as you cross it.

“Good morning,” An altogether new voice pools between your exclamations.

Of the five people in the empty room, two of them obviously belong someplace very far away. Somewhere unkind. Blue tunics and windswept hair. You slow your warpath and try to take in the details of the two new men that your three fugitives have approached without an ounce of concern or respect for personal space.

The younger of the pair tries to repel hair ruffles and claps on the shoulder from the three trespassers while the taller man, worn and travel-sallow, peers over the bustle to you.

His eye contact doesn't match the way he holds his exhausted body. It is this one part of him that threatens, surely only in your own tired mind, sudden and practiced violence. You move closer.

“I am Master Aizawa."

When he blinks the threat vanishes and you buckle a bit in the whiplash from danger to gentle authority. You are unarmed for a second– feeling suddenly like a school girl again being pitied by her teacher in a classroom full of people who he knows haven't quite figured out how to talk to the child soldier.

"Your party will be under my protection and instruction beginning today.”

Disarming eye contact aside, Master Aizawa, this fourth stranger of the morning, looks as if he could barely be trusted to remain upright on a sunny day, let alone manage other people.

“This young man is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he tips his chin to the boy trying to stand tall beside him, still speaking only to you over the chittering crowd, “My apprentice and your second in command.”

Windswept, violent, exhausted, trespassers, guests, useful, useless– these people do not matter. You’re supposed to be waiting for the prince and his convoy not chasing strangers in circles around the castle, when quite the terrible thought slips into center focus.

In your rush this morning it hadn’t even presented itself as an option, that this group of people might share your objective. The iron doors grunt open again in your confusion but louder than the doors are the people walking through them.

“Oh amazing, you found her!”

“I could hear you horrible fucks all the way from the courtyard.”

Your blood doesn’t rush properly for a second most likely because your heart has stopped pumping it out. It’s the prince. You square your body to the back wall immediately and bow with fists at your side. Trying to bury the incorrigible urge to stare.

Even from half a Hall away you feel the tremendous confidence that swells to every corner of a room when he enters. He’s in an open-chested vest lined with furs and you know the clasps at his neck are solid gold because the queen wouldn’t settle for less. The red cape they grip sweeps in an arc as he navigates tables, and walking duly tall beside him is the prince's Champion, Kirishima, who holds a polearm in one hand while waving to the group with the other.

The two familiar faces put you at a strange kind of ease. Kirishima is a relatively new addition to the castle but always seems to have a smile for you in passing, and the prince– the prince has gotten taller since– well, actually– you realize it’s been years since you’ve stood near him properly. Unless it’s the queen (and even then you really should), all castle staff bow their heads when a royal walks past. You’re fairly familiar with the details of his boots but not much else.

“Good morning, Highness,” Master Aizawa is the first to reply and his voice simmers just above a growl. You raise your head so that you’re standing tall when the prince finishes his march to the group but you’re too practiced in looking away to keep your eyes up when he trudges past.

“Long time no see old man.”

“Ready?”

“Let’s get this over with.” The prince doesn’t offer you a glance, not even a blink, before he’s tossing a rucksack from the man’s outstretched arm over his shoulder.

Soldier Sero calls after him, “You clean up nice,” and lifts his arm to give the prince a playful swat, but you’re already holding his wrist behind his back and he’s standing on tall tippy toes to keep the pressure in his knobby elbow from breaking it. You have a nasty habit. It’s full of panic. The queen always laughs when you’re too quick to confront so you haven’t tried to stop. It saved her life once. The prince squares himself to the yelping and now he’s looking at you.

“S-sorry Y/n! Friendly fire.”

You drop Sero’s arm and try to speak– it's your only chance for appropriate introduction– but the prince meets you with a ferocity that probably stops people’s hearts and with his mother’s halo of silvery hair and decisive eyes, it’s lovely enough to stop yours too. His red gaze is quick and flickering. Like he hopes to avoid looking at you altogether. You try to speak even less successfully than the last time, to wet your lips, try to make a sound, but he’s already rolling his eyes and ushering the two blue guards towards the door.

“I don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter. The rest of you, hurry up.”

They do. The prince, two escorts, and three unnamed guests, are back out the iron doors without so much as a greeting, explanation, or itinerary. You stand next to the cold fireplace, still half bowed in greeting.

As the Great Hall stills, empty now except for Kirishima, the redhead sidles a bit closer in the quiet. He watches you excitedly, as you exhale and adjust the travel bag at your hip, eager to present you with the weapon he’s been carrying.

“Good mornin’ Y/n. I think this is from Jeanist,” he chirps with a smile and precisely no clue just what exactly it is he’s handing to you. He’s straightforward and confident and warm.

It’s been a long time since a day so new has been so active. Since dawn, nothing but one heart palpitation after the next. One pair of red eyes to the next. The prince’s red burns your vision like a sunspot, Aizawa's turn grapes to wine, but Kirishima’s feels patient. You’re slow to remove your gloves before handling the weapon and take it from the Champion who vibrates in the new quiet. He is not particularly good at standing still.

Shifting up and down in your hands is a halberd. Its balance is unfamiliar and it’s not the cherrywood weapon you’re familiar with, the one that’s hopefully still hanging up in its slot in the Keep. This weapon is a deep blood red from shaft to socket. You nod your head without taking your eyes off the shimmer of the metal polished so fine it's turned white, and you’re sure there are tears in your eyes.

Kirishima is still smiling as you fiddle with the rivets, “You have lovely taste, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s not mine,” you whisper, because it’s Master Jeanist’s.

Outside of the castle gates, a particularly dazzling blue carriage is waiting, pulled by a team of white horses. You squint at the three fools wrestling with each other next to a quilted door of the most delicate vehicle you’ve ever seen in your life. Like something out of a storybook, like something built by fairies. The prince tiffs with a less-than-interested Master Aizawa in the grass a ways off and taps his foot angrily just like his mother.

“Are you the Aldera escort?” Shinsou, the spitting image of apathy, appears between you and Kirishima as you trek the stone path to join the party. He hands you each a sizable knapsack.

You nod, “Y/n, apprentice to Captain Jeanist.”

“The one and only?”

“Captain?”

“No, the only apprentice,” Shinsou corrects and smiling eyes betray his disinterest, “I’ve heard stories. It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.”

“Likewise,” you murmur as he leaves you with a bag in both hands, and strides back to the crowd to help load luggage. The Champion is long gone and mingling with friends too and so you’re alone again, left to fiddle at a distance with your halberd and the leather sling used to carry it on your back.

When you gaze back over the group from afar, it does seem that everyone but you already quite likes one another, and it probably feels that way because it’s true. They know each other somehow and you are the only stranger.

Next to the stack of luggage, you watch Sero open the door for his two friends and then watch them all curtsy dramatically before trying to beat each other inside. Shinsou catches the blond when he trips backwards on the single carriage step, Sero is finally wearing pants that fit him, black and pleated, and the prince is now stamping his foot on the ground in conversation with the most unfazed man you’ve ever met. Master Aizawa, you suppose, from Takoba.

Behind you the warm castle whistles with wind and morning activity. Your home. In front of you the pink-haired girl blows kisses to imaginary admirers and Kirishima hoists the prince into the carriage by force. It hasn’t been more than an hour and you are already sure this group of people will try their absolute hardest to get you all killed.

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tagged angels ✧.* @nnubee @cherrykamado @nonomesupposedto @zombiewarprincess @kotarousproperty @strawberry-mentos69 @sveetnn @eirlysian @lunrai @cherripunch26nch26 @km74744 @arayoflia

could not tag for some reason

(there was an issue with this post the first time, so I wont clog my angel's notifs with a retag on this second try 😅)

#welcome welcome to the show!#the first two chapters are the slowest so i'm killing two birds with one stone tonight #and publishing them at the same time #the payoff is worth it swearsies #bakugou x reader #bear with me!#trust the process #a hymn to black water #and thank you so much to my tagged angels!#bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #fantasy au #mha fantasu au #bnha fantasy au #fantasy au bakugou #fantasy au bakugo

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moongothic · 6 months

Text

In reference to this post; I was gonna reply in the comments but once again, it got too long, and I figured I might as well make a brief post about this because shit's interesting but the OG post was getting so long I didn't want to extend it any further. So. New post.

But I'm also going to make this a lowkey follow-up to this post, where I briefly talked about whether or not Crocodile is worthy of a redemption. Because I did have multiple people reply to it, mentioning they don't think Crocodile needs a redemption, which isn't wrong. Villian redemptions come down to personal preference (some people like them more than others generally speaking), and the specific circumstances of a character and the story they go through. (Personally, I am a fucking sucker for a good redemption story, and One Piece? Has how many redeemed villians? Kuma, Hatchan and Bon-chan? Perona too? Buggy and Mr 3 if we're generous??? I'm sure I'm forgetting someone, but the ratio is quite low is my point) The reason I want to bring that up again, is that depending on what Crocodile's trauma really boils down to (**since we don't know for sure what it is**), it could go against the very core messages of One Piece if he just dies without that trauma being resolved. And at the same time, if his trauma is what I think it is, then he can not heal from it without being redeemed. And the opposite is true as well, if his trauma isn't what I think it is, then he doesn't need to heal from it, and he doesn't need to be redeemed. I do have a whole separate post slow cooking in my drafts right now so I don't want to go too deep into that subject here and now. But the point is. If we want Crocodile to open up and be vunerable and heal from his shit, it means he's either getting a redemption arc or redemption in death. The latter is way fucking sadder, but again, a whole separate post.

BTW quick apology but I figured since there's a bunch of shit in this post that I've written about separately before, I might as well link to those posts for like context, so people can get where I'm coming from with my nonsense while keeping this post brief-ish

BUT ONTO THE ACTUAL SUBJECT As I have kind of mentioned before, I do think Crocodile probably has multiple layers of trauma going for him

We know losing to Whitebeard Did Things to his psyche for certain

I think it's very plausible he might've been betrayed by his former crew if he ever had one

I think it's likely Dragon didn't take too well to him transitioning

And between that and Crocodile already having tried to kill Luffy multiple times, he probably believes his son would never accept him as his other dad, especially since he already hates him.

(And I do think it's likely he might have some additional early childhood trauma based on how Oda writes these things normally but whatever that could be is an absolute mystery)

And if I'm right and those are (some of) the different layers of his trauma, then for Crocodile to open up and heal from it you'd need to do it step-by-step, layer by layer

I think Luffy accepting Crocodile would be the most important thing, above all else. Because if Crocodile loving and caring about his son is the only shred of humanity left in him, if Luffy is the only thing Crocodile cares about anymore while believing no one else will ever do so for him, then having that feeling returned is the key to getting Crocodile to just start to heal. If his son can't accept and forgive him then what would it matter what anyone else thinks? In my mind, Luffy is The Sledgehammer that can break Crocodile's walls.

But that's the first layer, the first step to getting Crocodile to become vunerable

If he does have that betrayal-based trauma, then I think finding people who would actually follow him and be loyal to him would help him heal on that front. And... This probably sounds strange, but I think Mihawk is the best candidate for it. Not just because he could be to Croc what Zoro is to Luffy (in many ways), and not just because of the Romancing SaGa 2 comparisons, but because Crocodile does already seem to respect Mihawk on some level. Like he specifically invited Mihawk to start Cross Guild with. IDK if they have like shared history before or if it's just because they're Fellow Former Warlords or simply because he knows Mihawk is strong and in a vunerable position (after losing his Shichibukai Rights) or what, but despite Crocodile saying he doesn't trust people, he seems to trust Mihawk enough to invite him. And he seems to respect Mihawk's opinions on things, like he might view themselves as equals. So if Mihawk, The Greatest Swordsman In The World of all people, genuinely expressed faith and loyalty to Crocodile... Yeah, I think that would do a lot for Croc. Especially if Mihawk found out about Crocodile's baggage and chose to follow him despite/because of it.

But if we want Crocodile to Heal ALL THE WAY. He and Dragon need to have a talk.

Which will not be easy, considdering like.

Look at that fucking expression on the panel on the right. Dragon is more than likely beyond furious with Crocodile over what he did in Alabasta. And for good reason. And frankly, I can't tell if they can ever come back from that.

(Sidenote, but this page these panels are from (from Chapter 1058) follows immidiately after the page where Buggy introduces Crocodile and Mihawk to Cross Guild, Dragon's placement on the bottom right of this page matching perfectly where Crocodile was placed in the previous page. So considdering what Dragon says and the expression he makes... Man, if there ever was a way for Oda to tell us what Dragon thinks of Crocodile without explicitly having him say it, yeah, this would be it)

And I'm sure that even if Crocodile got over whatever heartbreak might've happened between him and Dragon and just moved on... The fact that Dragon never called Crocodile and warned him about their son being a pirate, with a bounty, who might be on his way to the Grand Line, where he could stumble his way to Alabasta, where Crocodile was famous for his Pirate Crushing Heroics mind you... Yeah. Crocodile would have a perfectly understandable reason to be furious at Dragon too. He almost killed their son without knowing because Dragon never warned him, never told their son's name to him, never told his OWN full name to Crocodile.

So needless to say.

They have a lot of differences to overcome. Things they've done that they'd both need to look past, forgive and forget. Somehow. And I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'd find it damn near impossible to happen.

But can you imagine, if despite everything, Dragon still loved him? And was sorry about whatever the fuck happened 19 years ago? And didn't want to lose him again?

I think that would be the thing that would help Crocodile heal all the way in the end.

If Luffy is the first step, then Dragon is the last.

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Crocodad #Sir Crocodile #Either that or Mihawk and Crocodile actually get together #Honestly doubt Dragodile will happen because. I can not imagine Oda giving us a canon gay couple #I would literally not complain at all I would lose my god damn mind (in a good way)#I just think Crocodile has too many deathflags (If Crocodad Real). Like he's probably going to sacrifice himself protecting someone else #Probably Luffy. Maybe Dragon. He's probably gonna die is the point.#It's more likely he dies loved and forgiven than gets to live loved and forgiven #But like I said that's a whole different post I've been struggling to write for almost two weeks now lmao #Mainly because the sheer amount of deathflags make me so impossibly sad I don't wanna pick it up again jdhgkfg

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