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sycamoregirlsworld · 2 months

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Stockholm Syndrome- L. Castellan

part two!!!

down bad! luke x fem! reader

loser luke agenda

“baby look what you’ve done to me, baby you’ve got me tied down!” - one direction

lowkey want to make a pt. 2 idk

Why was he acting like this? Luke had never felt so jealous in his life. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling he had often. Sure, he was always slightly jealous of the kids with actual parents, but this was a different type of jealousy. It was the type of jealousy that made him want to scream into his pillow like a little kid.

And that was so weird for him! He was the counselor of the Hermes cabin. He had a scar on his face from fighting a dragon! Luke Castellan was cool, and he did not let things like girls get under his skin.

“You look like a creep.” Chris scoffed, shaking Luke out of his thoughts.

“I’m not even staring at her.” Luke frowned at his friend as he picked up his sword, deciding that maybe he should actually practice.

He was staring at her, though. But how could he not!? His best friend had impeccable fighting form, he always admired that.

That was why he was staring at (Y/n), nothing else. And he was not glaring at the boy she was sparring with and thinking about running his sword through him. Not at all.

“Y’know, I didn’t even mention her.” Chris raised his brows as he also picked up his sword. “You’ve gotta tell her how you feel, before someone else sweeps her up.”

“I dont love her, Chris.” Luke frowned as he swiped his sword at his friend. “At least not like that.”

But he couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably at Chris’s words. Someone else sweeping up (Y/n)? His (Y/n)? It had always been him and her. (Y/n) and Luke.

He felt gross being so possessive over her, but he didn’t have much in life.

Imagining (Y/n) being gone was….

That thought got him worked up, and he could feel his nonchalant exterior breaking.

He tried not to think about it, but when it came to (Y/n) he was very chalant.

Is that even a word? Doesn’t matter… Luke just knows he’s the opposite of nonchalant when it comes to her.

He tried to ignore it, he really did! She had been his bestfriend since he had gotten to camp, he didn’t want to ruin anything between them.

And sure, maybe it felt like a hellhound was ripping out his insides everytime another boy flirted with her. And yes, he did frequently dream about dropping to his knees in front of her and—

‘Stop it!’ Luke scolded himself as he blocked Chris’s attack. ‘Stop thinking of her like that..’

He couldn’t focus on the fight. The swinging and blocking of his sword was sloppy compared to his usual sharp technique. He just couldn’t pull his eyes away from (Y/n).

His jaw clenched as he watched her sword knock against the boy whose name he couldn’t even remember. Why was she even sparring with this loser? She easily had the upper hand, this boy wasn’t even good!

(Y/n) always said she liked sparring with Luke because of the challenge, their sparring was always playful and fun— but it was hard.

Their skills were equally matched, he was so much better then this random boy—

Luke’s thoughts were broken away as Chris disarmed Luke, backbiter falling to the ground with a thud.

Luke’s thoughts stilled for a moment as he stared at the ground with his jaw agape. How did he—Luke Castellan—get disarmed by Chris Rodriguez?

“She’s got you whipped.” Chris laughed as he looked over at (Y/n).

Right. That’s how’s he got beat.

“Whatever man.” Luke scoffed as he swiped her sword up and stormed away.

The quiet crackling of the fire and the loud singing from the Apollo cabin didn’t to much to lift (Y/n)’s mood. The entire day Luke had been ignoring her, and it was really pissing her off.

He was fine this morning! He had even given her his last bit of eggs during breakfast, but after that he hadn’t talked to her.

Was it because she had chosen Ben as her sparring partner instead of Luke? She guessed that could be the problem, but she didn’t know why he’d be mad!

And Ben had asked her to be his sparring partner, she would’ve felt bad if she said no.

Maybe she had also obliged his request to get her mind off of Luke.

Gods, being in love with your best friend was totally lame! She knew Aphrodite always had a plan, but if this was the Goddess’s idea of a good trope she needed to rethink her tastes.

Reading friends to lovers in a book? Totally fine— amazing even!

Experiencing it in real life? A cruel and unusual punishment.

But she couldn’t help falling for Luke, he was just so kind and funny and strong and he was such a pretty boy.

Like, screw Helen of Troy, try Luke of Connecticut!

But having those thoughts about your best friend was so uncomfortable, especially when you’re supposed to be sparring with him but instead you just want to pin him down and kiss him.

And this is where Ben enters. Ben was blonde, short, and skinny. He was wasn’t very smart nor was he a good fighter. The complete opposite of Luke!

(Y/n) thought that would’ve been good. If he was the complete opposite of Luke, then it would be impossible for her to think about the boy, right?

Wrong!

Turns out, it just made her pick apart everything that made him different from Luke.

Currently, she was sitting next to the blonde boy. It was rather uncomfortable as she could feel his body pressed too close to hers and she could see the seductive look he was sending her from the corner of her eyes.

Yuck.

She enjoyed his attention, sure. But it wasn’t his that she wanted.

It made her feel bad, to nitpick someone like this all because she was hopelessly down bad for her best friend.

But she also couldn’t really find it in her to care. She felt dirty, gross, and disloyal for spending her time with Ben.

It’s not like Luke and her were a thing, but she wasn’t the type to divide her adoration. If she liked someone, it would always be them.

And it had been Luke for awhile.

But she was tired of it now. Selfishly, she wanted affection. She wanted to be adored! And yeah, Luke showed her affection, but it was a ‘best friend’ type of affection.

So here she was, debating on if she should just leave the campfire early.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ben asked as he nudged his shoulder against hers.

‘Luke.’ Her mind immediately answered.

But she couldn’t say that to him, so instead she just answered, “Nothing.”

She could hear Ben hum in response, but she still wasn’t looking at him.

Instead, she was watching Luke from across the fire. The way the flames danced off his skin made him look well— hot!

She smiled shyly as she made eye contact with him and waved, to her luck he actually waved back. He looked like he was about to open his mouth to say something when she felt Ben’s hand grip her chin and turn her head towards him.

“You’re so beautiful..” He mumbled as he tilted her head up.

Her jaw clenched and her body went rigid. This was gross. His hands were smooth and sweaty…

Ben shifted even closer to her, his bony legs pressing up against hers.

“I used to think you and Castellan had something going on, y’know?” He smirked and got closer, “But I guess not.”

(Y/n) furrowed her brows at his words. Why was he bringing up another guy when he looked like he was about to kiss her? She found it weird and territorial, not to mention he was bringing up someone she’d rather be kissing…

(Y/n) could feel her stomach twist up in a gross anticipation, she could just tell by the way he was looking at her they he was about to lean in.

And she really didn’t want his lips on hers.

She pursed her lips as he closed his eyes, his sweaty hands snaking from her chin to her hair as he began to lean closer.

He was so close, she could feel his breath in her face and then—

“Hey.” A deep voice spoke up from next to them.

(Y/n) quickly pulled away and sighed in relief when she spotted Luke standing over them, his dark glare settled onto Ben.

The blonde haired boy looked pissed as he stared up at Luke. “Hey dude!” He smiled tensely. “What’re you uh- what are you doing?”

Ben was obviously trying to look and sound intimidating as he puffed out his chest and made his voice deeper. But as the Luke Castellan stood over them, his brown curls falling slightly in his eyes, Ben just looked so meek.

“I need to talk to my girl.” Luke shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal and pulled (Y/n) up.

She tried to ignore the fact that he called her his girl. He didn’t mean it, he just knew she was uncomfortable and was trying to get her away from Ben.

But she couldn’t ignore the way she felt when he said it. His words, mixed with the way he held her hand tightly, made her feel like she was about to throw up an entire colony of bees.

She smiled apologetically at Ben as she allowed Luke to pull her away, even though she couldn’t give two fucks.

“Where are we going?” (Y/n) asked curiously as she glanced around at their surroundings. The two had been walking for awhile, (Y/n) trailing after Luke like a lost puppy.

“You’ll see.” Luke’s words were short as he continued to drag her around.

The girl puffed out her cheeks and looked away. He was still mad at her, wasn’t he? She didn’t even know why he’d be mad, and that now was making her mad!

She tugged on his arm and stopped walking.

“Why are you so mad at me?” She frowned.

Luke turned around and raised his brow. “Mad at you?” He scoffed. “You think I’m mad at you?”

(Y/n) puffed out her cheeks as she held her arms up in an exasperated motion. Was he being serious?

“Well I dunno Luke!” Her voice came out high pitched as she jutted her hip out. “After sword practice tonight you ignore me when I come up to you, then you ignore me during arts and crafts, and you also ignored me during dinner!”

During her blow up, (Y/n) had gotten closer to Luke, staring up with him with narrowed eyes as she shoved her finger into his chest.

“I haven’t been ignoring you.” Luke scoffed as he caught her wrist. “I’ve just been—”

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” The girl frowned as she ripped her wrist away from his grasp. “You talked to me during breakfast but you’ve ignored me the rest of the day Luke, what did I do?”

The brown haired boy went silent at her words, a pang of guilt hitting his chest as he heard the distress in her voice.

“You didn’t do anything…” Luke sighed as he tugged on his camp necklace.

That was always his tell, whenever he was nervous he’d tug on it.

“Then why am I the victim of your anger?” (Y/n) groaned as she ran a hand through her hair. “You know I hate it when you do that—”

“I was jealous!” Luke blurted out. After a beat of silence, Luke processed what he had confessed and slapped his hand over his mouth.

“You…. were jealous?” (Y/n) tilted her head as she looked up at him.

Luke was acting strange… sure, the pair had many conversations about his jealousy towards children’s whose godly parents actually cared, but this was different.

This was… about her?

“Fuck it…” Luke groaned as he rubbed his hand over his face. “Yeah. I was jealous. You sparred with that blonde kid today and then Chris said something that really got under my skin.”

“What do you mean..?” (Y/n) took a step closer to him, laying a hand on his bicep in concern.

“This is so unlike me— y’know I never let things like this get under my skin, but when it comes to you?” Luke breathed out as he hesitatingly cupped her face with his hands. “You get me so worked up.”

“When I’m with you, all I want to do is kiss you, and worship the ground you walk on, and do all this other shit to you because I just— I love you!” Luke continued with his rant, not giving (Y/n) any time to reply. “And it takes all my self restraint and then some to not do it!”

“Y-you love me?” (Y/n) stammers as she grabbed the hand that Luke was holding her face with.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She needed someone to pinch her, because this couldn’t be real!

Luke Castellan—her Luke Castellan—who she never thought she had a chance with, wanted her too??

“So, so, much.” Luke chewed on his bottom lip as he stared down at her. “And when I saw that loser trying to kiss you tonight— I wanted to get violent!”

This elicited a small giggle out of (Y/n). It was gross when Ben was territorial, but it felt right when Luke was.

With Ben it seemed like he was trying to prove he was the man. But Luke was the man. He was the man of her dreams, to be more exact.

“Well— I love you too..” (Y/n) smiled shyly as she looked down at her feet. Her cheeks were flushed and the feeling of Luke’s rough hand against her cheek didn’t help the butterflies that swirled around her stomach.

Luke nudged her chin up and smiled as he met her eyes. (Y/n) always thought he looked good, but something about seeing him after he had confessed his love to her just made him look even better.

“Hey, promise me something?” He requested as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Only ever be my sparring partner?”

“Is this your lame way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” Her nose scrunched up in amusement, but she couldn’t stop the fuzzy feeling that surrounded her.

Luke glanced away with flushed cheeks. “Just say yes or no.” He grumbled.

(Y/n)’s eyes twinkled with mischief as she tugged Luke down to her level, their noses brushing as she smiled.

“Yes, of course I will.”

Luke surged forward and pressed his lips against hers in a frenzy, (Y/n) kissing back just as feverishly.

Finally, after years of stupid yearning they were getting to feel each others lips.

(Y/n) quickly had her hands tangled through Luke’s hair, needing something to support herself as he continued his merciless attack against her lips.

Luke gripped her hips tightly with a quiet moan, his fingers sinking into the stiff denim of her shorts as he attempted to pull her closer.

(Y/n) pulled away with flushed cheeks, stumbling slightly as she was tugged forward.

“Everyone should still be at the campfire…” She trailed off as she looked away shyly, hoping Luke would catch her drift.

Luke smirked in response and pulled her into another chaste kiss.

“I like the way you think.”

#luke castellan #aesthetic #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo #percy jackson #pjo tv show #one direction

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breadbrobin · 3 months

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“in every other universe”

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

summary: luke said he’d love you in every other universe. luke was many things, but he wasn’t a liar.

warnings: ANGST, kissing, mentions of canon typical violence, use of pet names, so much angst bro omg

word count: 1.0k

(i wrote this AGES ago like around episode three so don’t come at me for it being a lil different to how he acts in the finale ok i did my best and i didn’t wanna change too much bc i love it)

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“do you think we’re together in every universe?”

it was a quiet question. one that luke’s ears could barely pick up through the murmurs of the hermes cabin and the whistling of the wind outside. your breath was right against his cheek though, and your whispered question carried to him.

he frowned. “what do you mean?”

“like,” he could hear you shifting to face him, and he looked over at you, seeing the outline of your features in the dark. “in every other universe where we exist—as whatever we exist as—do you think we met? became friends? then fell in love too?”

he was quiet for a moment, turning his head back to look up at the bunk above him. “yeah. i think we find each other in every universe. i don’t think even the fabric of time and space itself could tear us apart.”

he could hear your soft giggle through the night. “really?”

“really.” he rolled to face you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “not even the gods could tear us apart, baby. not the gods, not the universe itself, nothing.”

he punctuated his words with soft kisses, only stopping when you smiled and yawned tiredly.

“i love you,” you whispered, shifting closer and tucking your head under his chin.

he kissed your hair, warmth growing in his chest as it always did around you, especially on nights where you’d sneak into his bunk to fall asleep together, limbs tangled, hair messy, sleep in your eyes. “i love you too.” his voice was a whisper, barely audible. he said it like a prayer, a reverent statement that made you feel like the most loved person in the universe—in any universe. you wondered if all of your other iterations loved him like you did. if all of your other versions of yourself were as deeply, irrevocably in love with this boy who had you wrapped in his arms and wrapped around his fingers. you didn’t used to believe in fate and destiny. luke helped you see that he was yours.

in every other universe, you thought bitterly. i hope every other universe is happier than this.

luke had left. he was gone. long gone.

he’d came to see you, begging you on your knees to join him, to leave with him.

“please, my love, he can give us whatever we want. we can live forever, immortal in this new world that he will build us!” his eyes had been frantic, pleading… broken.

you had gotten to his level, cupping his face in your hands and stroking his cheeks softly. “luke…”

“baby, he will give us anything,” he’d begged. “anything. just come with me.”

you had shaken your head, kissed his lips one last time. your own were salty with tears. “he’s poisoned your mind, luke.”

“the gods have poisoned your mind,” he sneered. “they are responsible for everything. all the pain, all the unclaimed kids, this—“ he jabbed a finger at the scar on his face. “—and all the death that came with it.”

“and you think titans will be better? luke, don’t do this.”

“it’s already done,” he said, his voice stronger. “come with me. together in every universe. this will be the only one that matters anymore, baby. come with me.”

“no.” that was all you’d had to say.

his face crumbled. bitterness and regret filled his eyes, and for a second, you thought he might change his mind. you thought he might stay with you.

you were wrong.

he’d stood up, looking down at you with eyes colder than you’d ever seen. you’d always known luke could be volatile. he was too controlled sometimes, when he shouldn’t be, like he was always holding something back. his sword-fighting was too restrained, and yet too good. there was a balance there that was impossible to achieve unless you’d seen both sides—weak and strong, powerless and entirely powerful. you understood now what that was. you’d never been scared of him before.

he towered over you. “fine. you’ve made your choice. don’t come crying to us when you change your mind.”

the way he said ‘us’ sent a shiver down your spine. you felt nauseous as you kneeled there in front of him, not even feeling strong enough to stand up.

“i love you,” you whispered as he drew his sword.

he faltered for a moment, then his jaw clenched. “if you really loved me, you wouldn’t be betraying me like this.”

as the hilt of his sword hit your temple, memories flashed through your head—of sharing strawberries and kissing under trees, of skipping stones on the shore and sneaking into each others bunks when you couldn’t sleep. years of friendship, then love… all destroyed with the hit of a blade’s hilt. you wondered, who was really the traitor here? it didn’t feel like you.

when you’d woken up, you were in the infirmary. chiron was just outside with the new kid, percy jackson. annabeth was sitting beside you, holding your hand, tears in her eyes.

when she saw you were awake, she squeezed your hand and helped you sit up.

“he’s gone?” you asked weakly.

she nodded, her eyes filling with bitter tears again. “yeah. he… he attacked percy too. while everyone was celebrating. he…” she trailed off and shook her head. “he betrayed all of us. i should have seen it coming. i should have…”

you shook your head. how could he be so cruel? how could you not have noticed? it wasn’t annabeth’s job to—it wasn’t yours either, sure, but you’d seen the signs months ago. you should have seen how things would end. you should have done something sooner. you should have, you should have, you should have.

out loud, you said nothing, just opened your arms for annabeth to fall into. you both needed someone, but the person you both needed was nowhere to be found.

it wasn’t fair.

you didn’t know what was coming next, but you knew that luke’s soul was intertwined with yours, in whatever way it ended up being. he’d said once that you were his anchor, his reason to live after his failed quest… so why couldn’t you be his reason to stay? why couldn’t he have loved you more, loved you like he said he didn’t in every other universe, and stayed?

why, why, why? you feared you would find yourself asking that question until the day you died.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell

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stray-kaz · 5 months

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First Kiss, Next Kiss : a Roronoa Zoro x f!reader oneshot

Summary: Roronoa Zoro was your first kiss, but after Kuina died, you were pulled out of training and figured you would never see him again. But history repeats.

Seven years ago

You sat at the edge of the practice arena, out of reach of the flashing swords, but close enough to read the frustration painted all over Zoro's face as Kuina repeatedly pushed him to the edge of his skill. You winced when he landed on his back again, fury etched in his skin.

Kuina glanced at you when Zoro snatched his sword up from the ground and stormed off, flicking her sword out in the direction he had disappeared to. You pushed to your feet and hurried after him, narrow hilt bumping against your hip.

You found him at the running brook in the forest surrounding your home, sitting slumped with his swords cast to one side. He glanced to the side as you approached from the left, reaching up to scrub a furious tear from the corner of his eye.

"I'm fine" he muttered, trying to glower fiercely at you and failing.

You sat down on the grass next to him, adjusting your sword carefully.

"Yeah, you look fine" you replied casually. "But you ran away again."

He narrowed his eyes at you.

"Again" he growled.

"Yes, again" you repeated.

"Stop coming after me."

"Stop running away."

Zoro opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, huffing through his nose.

"Kuina keeps beating me" he said finally, surprising you. "I'm not as good as her."

You shook your head.

"But you will be if you quit running away and let her show you properly. Your ego gets in the way of your improvement, Roronoa Zoro. Time to grow up."

He blinked at you.

"Grow up? You grow up!"

He bounded to his feet and glared down at you, chest heaving. You followed suit more calmly, eyeing him curiously. You watched him retrieve his twin blades and raised your eyebrows. He jerked his head towards your katana hanging from your hip.

"Come on" he said, his jaw tight. "Your turn. See if you can beat me."

You rolled your eyes.

"You know I can't. I know I can't. What's the point?"

Your eyes widened as he stepped toe to toe with you, his eyes wide and dark, almost afraid.

"Please" he said softly, and your resolve crumbled.

Roronoa Zoro never said please to anyone. You slowly drew your blade and raised it, heart pounding.

The first strike of steel on steel rang in your ears and you fought back, knowing that his drive and desire to win far outweighed yours. He wanted to have a victory, so you would let him have it.

Zoro pushed you back and back, away from the babbling water, your feet sliding and skidding on the damp grass and leaves. All you could hear was the sound of your soft shoes struggling for grip and your heavy breathing, the clash of the swords as you defended yourself against Zoro's onslaught.

You could hold your own against most of the boys, but apart from Kuina, Zoro was the best and you barely even realised he had you beat until you had your back against a tree and the shining edge of his blade hovering two careful inches from your throat.

His throat worked hard as he caught his breath and there was a dark gleam of triumph in his eye you just had to get rid of. You let your sword arm drop, tossing the katana onto the grass. Zoro lowered his sword in confusion and you took your chance, feeling the flat of the blade press harmlessly against your collar as you kissed him.

His eyes widened and his fingers flexed uselessly around his sword hilts. You pulled away and stared up at him. He had gone perfectly still, except for his eyes, which were darting frantically between your eyes and your lips. You opened your mouth to speak, to apologise, but he cut you off mid breath, kissing you back so sweet for such a furious boy.

When he stepped back, your eyes were bright and there was a flush tinting his cheeks. He bent and picked up your katana, sliding it back into its sheath for you, his fingers grazing against your hip for a moment.

"We should probably be getting back" he murmured, biting at his lip.

You nodded as he sheathed his twin blades before shyly reaching for your hand, his skin warm on yours.

A few days later, you were gone.

Present Day

Hidden backstage at Buggy's circus, you twitched awake at the sound of doors slamming and the thud of a body against the spinning target wheel. You sat up slowly, wincing at the aches from bruises and knife pricks, drips of blood long since dried up.

Glancing to your right along the curve of the room, you could see a woman with orange hair crouching like a feral cat in the corner of her cage, gaze fixed on the pirates swaggering back out of the room. You didn't look at her for long, your gaze drawn by force towards the man tied to the spinning wheel. Your eyes widened.

Dark green hair, dark brown eyes, a trio of swords haphazardly leaning against the wall a few feet from him. That white hilt... He was older, obviously, and harder looking, but that was still...

"Roronoa Zoro!"

The name exploded out of you and you clapped your hands over your mouth, shocked. Two pairs of eyes searched you out and you slowly stood, wrapping your fingers around the bars of your own cage. Zoro strained against his bonds, his jaw tensing at the sight of you. He remembered.

He spoke your name between gritted teeth and the flame haired woman narrowed her eyes at you.

"You know each other?" she demanded. "Oh man, this can not get any weirder."

"I wouldn't count on that" you replied dryly, tugging aimlessly on the rope tied around your ankle. "With these clowns? There's no end to the weird."

You could feel Zoro's hard stare raking down your body and shifted your weight uncomfortably.

"What did they do to you?" he growled. "How long have you been here?"

You shrugged.

"Anything. Everything. Knives, fists, hot pokers. How long? No idea now. Lost track of the months."

Zoro closed his eyes and focused on regulating his breathing. The woman looked between you two, focusing last on you.

"Speak" she ordered.

You sighed.

"We grew up and trained together. Our friend...died. My father pulled me out of training and I haven't seen Zoro since we were fourteen."

As you were speaking, the woman freed a lockpick from her hair and started working on the cage lock. Suddenly, the echo of screams pitched into the room and Zoro tipped his head toward the woman.

"Hurry up, Nami. Work faster."

The door slammed open and a pirate with striped hair strode right up to Zoro. His eyes flicked to Nami and then to you before he pretended to pay attention to the other man's years long desire to put Zoro's head in a bag.

You couldn't control the gasp that slipped out when the pirate stepped back from the wheel and held up a knife. His gaze slid to you, an ugly smirk twisting the corners of his mouth.

"You know the demon, do you, little mouse?"

You opened your mouth, but Zoro spoke for you as he had done all those years ago.

"Don't look at her, look at me!" he barked.

The first knife buried itself point down beside his head. He didn't so much as flinch. You longed for your sword, laid down long ago.

The second knife landed between his legs, too high. You flinched for him, your fingers curling inwards for your nails to bite into your palms.

Nami worked quietly on her lock, one eye on the clown pirate.

The third blade whistled through the air and pierced the black tie binding Zoro's right wrist. You straightened your spine as he gave it the barest of glances, his dark eyes narrowing a fraction. He opened his mouth and goaded the other man closer with taunts about his brother as he died by Zoro's blade, the tie around his wrist threatening to snap.

Then it did. It loosened entirely and he slammed his fist into the pirate's stunned face. He untied his left wrist, then his feet, as Nami stepped from her cage and went to yours. You ducked out of it and were taken aback to find Zoro's arms tight around you the second your head cleared the metal overhang.

Nami, too, seemed just as surprised, staring at Zoro's back. Your nose pressed hard into his shoulder, your own arms trapped down by your sides as he hugged the breath out of you.

When he stepped back, he cleared his throat roughly.

"I assume you have a plan?" he said to Nami. "Plans seem to be your thing."

She nodded and retrieved her bo staff from where it leaned against a wall with Zoro's swords.

"I say we beat the crap out of every pirate we see."

Zoro grinned.

"Now you're talking."

He collected his trio and passed you the Wado Ichimonji. You stared at it before you wrapped your fingers around the hilt.

"Are you sure?" you asked, tentative.

He nodded.

"I don't want to lose anyone else. Not you" he said steadily, his voice soft.

You followed Zoro and Nami out of the room and back into the Big Top, where a boy in a water filled tank struggled to breathe. Nami growled under her breath and threw her bo staff; it cracked the glass, spidering cracks webbing out across the surface.

Zoro thumbed his sword catches free and drew both swords at once, their sharp edges gleaming in the shadowy lowlight. You slid his third, most precious katana into the air and felt the familiar easy heft of a weapon in your hand, the sweep of it cutting through oxygen.

The next few minutes were a blur of heavy breathing, panic and Buggy's loose limbs flying all over. You took a boot in the head and knocked it into the nearest box Zoro was holding open for you. He slammed the lid down and glanced around in the sudden silence.

The boy, Luffy, bounded over to the clown's captives and started to free them. Zoro wandered over more slowly and joined him, hacking at the chains and manacles until they clattered free onto the ground.

You turned away, returned the Wado Ichimonji to its home and walked slowly outside, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sudden brightness of the sun you hadn't seen in months. You inhaled deeply, dizzy from all the light and clean air, and swayed on your feet.

Strong hands landed solidly on your waist, keeping you up. They turned you slowly until you were toe to toe with Zoro, deja vu shattering the rest of your senses as the memory of your first kiss flooded in. Still a little dizzy, you held out his katana, but he ignored it, wrapping his arms around you instead. He lifted you onto your tiptoes and kissed you deeply, not minding in the slightest your tiny squeak of surprise.

The sun beat down on your heads, scalding your already burning cheeks. Your hand trapped against Zoro's chest with the sword still clasped in it, you could feel his heart pounding hard. He eased back a few inches to speak, but you pulled him down, sliding your free hand up the back of his neck, and he made a soft sound of relief, pure acquiescence.

As you lost yourself in Zoro's embrace, the other two wandered out and stopped to stare. Luffy pointed, confused.

"Who's she?" he asked.

Nami sighed and shrugged.

"A girl from Zoro's past. His first love, I guess."

"Huh."

Luffy paused only a second or two before leaping over and thumping Zoro on the shoulder. He pulled from you again and glowered at the boy.

"What?" he snapped, curling his fingers around your hand still gripping the third katana.

Luffy beamed widely at you.

"Wanna join my crew?"

Tagging: @writingmysanity @elizabeth-karenina

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x female reader #young zoro #liss writes #opla #one piece #opla x reader #one piece x reader #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction

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hadesnumber1daughter · 4 months

Text

Pretty like the sun

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Apollo daughter OC (she classes as an oc cause I gave her a name but you can just read it like your name or Y/N if you want, I just feel better when I'm writing and the characters have names :)

Summary: Percy has always felt something for you, something that you had felt aswell. These quests of life and death finally knocked some sense into you two.

Warnings: Blood, Pain, Agony, Violence, Weapons, Wounds, Wound treating, Curse words, Oblivious idiots, Fluff, Angsty??, Sexual tension, Mutual pining, Almost death, Non-Canon, Hugs, Kisses, Holding hands, Ooc Percy??? Cerberus as a violent dog (ik she isnt really but this is my imagine so idc), Not proof-read, GUT-WRENCHING LOVE, IDK how i wrote this considering I've never been in a relationship OR have ever had an actual crush in my 16 sad years of life

Words: 6.3k

Notes: This is my first imagine so I'm sorry if its bad😭😭. Also if anyone would be willing to give me a few pointers when it comes to working this app as a creator please do cause, yeah I've been using this app for years but I have no idea how to use it when it comes to posting things. I would be very grateful. ❤️❤️❤️. Also, if anyone wants to request something else for me to write I would love to write something for either Percy or Luke, I'll probably make a list of people who I'm willing to write for later today cause it is 10am rn and I haven't slept so I'll just go bed after this 😭😭😭

As soon as percy got handed this quest, with Grover being part of the cloven council and Annabeth being gone to spend time with her family, Percy knew his immediate first choice would be Aurora, there was no doubt about it. The Apollo girl had a spark about her that has drawn him in the second he laid eyes on her.

He had deemed it because she was a daughter of Apollo so there would always be some sort of light that would draw him in, but he hasnt been very sure of that for a very long time. Every time he laid eyes on her, it felt as though time stood still and she was the only source of light and happiness in this dark, gloomy world.

They had became extremely close when he first came to camp, she taught him the ropes in archery as to put it plainly, he was absolutely shit at it. He had no aim and his stance was awful, in her own words.

When she first said that to him, he wanted to throw her in a dumpster, but then he saw her, he properly saw her. He didnt know what Aphrodite looked like, but he was sure she would be a spitting image of the girl. He was even more sure that she was a daughter of Aphrodite but instead she was not, which made sense as to why she was hanging around the archery booth. From that day forward, she helped him freshen his archery skills, and he helped her with her sword skills.

He has never understood why she wouldnt ask Luke as he was the best swords-man and would probably be a better trainer. However, when he brough it up to her one time her cheeks flushed the tiniest bit and she stated how she was helping him, so he should do that same.

That's how they have ended up here. In the middle of nowhere, trying to find and 'kill' a beast that has been accidently lost and let out from the underworld and send it back. Although quests always have 3 people on them, the oracle specifically stated that this was only a 2 person job. Percy had never been so sure in picking Aurora at that moment in time.

🌊

"Are you sure we are going the right way Perce, I swear I've seen this tree 3 times already" Aurora stated this time taking a dagger and marking said tree with an X so if they do cross it again, she would be right.

"You never trust my navigation skills sunshine, why is that, is it cause you always get lost in my eyes" he says turning to look at her with a smug smile on his face. The girl abruptly stopped at his turn and could feel the blood rush to her cheeks in that moment, her honey-brown eyes immediately locked with his water coloured eyes and she broke the gaze, not letting him have the satisfaction of being right.

"You wish seaweed brain" she muttered and walked past him knocking into his shoulder in the process which led to him letting out a dramatic gasp.

"That hurts sunshine. Where are you going, it's getting dark, we should stop, set up camp and get some rest so we can re-think and re-strategize." The girl slowly stops her steps and turns her back to the boy who is standing there leaning against a tree with his arms crossed giving her a cocky glance that makes her want to die and kill him at the same time.

The two had a stand-off for a bit before one decided to speak up.

"As long as I don't have to scavenge this creepy forest for wood then its fine by me" the girl said walking back to him while his eyes following her every movement till she was a few steps away from him. The girl went to grab something from her pocket with her left hand and with her right, she grabbed the boys arms and dragged her hand down it, to his hand which automatically opened up. She placed something cold into it with her left hand.

He looked at her and she had a glint in her eyes he hadn't seen for the past 12 hours, looking to his palm, he was a coin. Not just any ordinary coin or ordinary drachma. It was a coin from sea life, the one coin they give to one another which can be used for many thing, they talked it over before the quest. The coin can only be used for 2 things during this quest, to make sure the other doesnt die, or the person who has been handed the coin has to do what the person giving the coin wants no matter what.

He looked up at her with a confused look but seeing the mischief in her eyes gave enough away. Sighing he pocketed the coin and stepped away from the tree which only left 3 steps in-between the two.

"What do you want me to do" not even bothering arguing.

"I want to see you fail at making a fire" she said just giving him the brightest smile, basically oozing sunlight from her. The boy felt like a deer stuck in headlights in that moment, he almost forgot the reason for her heavenly smile. He wanted to tell her he loved her right there and then, that he could never get enough of her, that he searched for her in every room he ever walked into, that she was the one and only constant source of light in his life, that she was the sun and he would orbit her in every universe no matter how close he got, no matter how much it destroyed him. He was utterly inconsolable without her. He loved her.

"Aurora" the boy started to say, in a serious tone which immediately made the girl's smile falter as she looked into his eyes, he didnt need to say anything. His eyes spoke more words than he would have liked, enough for the girl to get the message and understand him. All of the glances, the subtle touches, the comfort of each other like no other. She felt and understood it all.

He was about of continue when a roar sounded, echoing in all directions and rustling the trees. The two could hear the howl of Cerberus all around them. Percy immediately uncapped riptide while Aurora unclasped her bracelet which turned into a bow and an unlimited supply of arrows.

The both circled back to back, covering each others blind spot like muscle memory. They could feel the ground shake with each step the otherworldly creature took.

"How are we going to do this?" the girl asked while keeping an eye on all of her surroundings.

"You distract with your arrows as they are long-range and while she's focused on you, I'll go for the kill shot"

"She can't die" she could feel him rolling her eyes as the words left her mouth.

"You know what I mean"

They could hear the low growl from the side of them. The three-headed beast emerged in all its glory with its 6 menacing eyes ready to rip these two teens to shreds and send the wrong beings in this equation to the underworld. Percy turned to stand next to Aurora and the girl grabbed his hand and squeezed to which he immediately responded. There were many unspoken words that had been said in the past 10 minutes and this was another addition 'dont die, be safe, come back to me'.

Slipping through her fingers, his hand left hers and quietly stalked away before the beast could get any idea there were 2 of them. Wishing the best for the boy, she instantly got the dogs attention by shooting an arrow at the middle head's nose.

It did not like that.

They all barked at once and got ready to run at the girl. She didn't like to admit it but she was fucking terrified. Cerberus ran at her and she leapt to the side and ran as fast as she could not looking back until she could feel he's a little away from her. She got another arrow ready in her bow and blindly shot it behind her.

She heard a small whimper which brought a smirk to her face but that was immediately wiped away as she heard the barking intensify. Hiding behind a tree the girl caught her breaths and looked for the hound and she couldnt spot it or Percy. She got another arrow ready and looked behind the tree once again but was faced with the thing she was hunting.

Fear spread to every part of her body and she had no time to brace the impact as the dog clawed the tree which in return clawed her. She let out a bloodcurdling scream as she was flung into another tree. The bark from the destroyed tree splintered her, her head hit against a tree on impact and the large gash on her side felt like a fire that was melting her skin off. The girl felt her breath stick in her throat, she felt as though she was dying as immense pain filled her and black spots invaded her vision. Only one other thing was on her mind.

Percy.

The ocean eyed boy lost sight of Cerberus immediately as it began to chase Aurora, his Aurora. He followed as fast as he could not wanting anything bad to happen to the girl he loved before he got any chance to be with her, to confess and to just live a life content with his feelings.

As he heard, the whoosh of Aurora's arrows increase, he could feel himself being uncapable of keeping up with the beast from the underworld and he cursed himself for it. He lost sight of Cerberus and it scared him, it was too quiet. He couldn't hear the creature or the girl he loved.

His heartbeat quickened as he looked all around him trying to see a glimpse of either of them.

Then all blood drain out of his face when he heard the one sound he wished he did not have to hear, ever. Aurora's scream made his heart almost leap out of his chest. He didnt know what to do, he didnt know where she was, he couldnt see the hound, its his fault, she going to die because of him.

She most certainly is going to die if you dont get a fucking move on, that one voice in his head said. And he pushed all the doubts to the back of his head and focused on 2 things. Defeating Cerberus and finding Aurora.

He could hear the three-headed dogs footsteps and instantly ran to it. It didnt see him coming and it's tail was on the ground so he didnt the best thing he could think of. He ran up the tail onto the body of the beast.

This elicited loud barking from the beast and Percy could only do one thing. Repeatedly stab the dog until it dissolved.

Now... admittedly, this was not a good strategy. It was fucking awful. There was no thought to his stabs, they all just angered the beast and considering she was quite resistance to stabs, it wasnt helping. He was just tiring himself out.

He then has the genius idea of stabbing the beast in the eye, or eyes. He started with the left head. The beast let out a large whimper, and stumbled which cause the boy to almost loose his grip on it. He wasnt going to stop now, he needed to send Cerberus back and get to Aurora.

Aurora. Her scream was echoing in his mind. Bouncing around his skull like he has no brain inside, only her gut-wrenching scream.

He subtly shook his head. As much as he was dreading where she was and if she was okay. He needed to secure Cerberus and he needed all attention to so it as fast a possible to get back to his sunshine.

He then stabbed riptide into both the right heads eyes. Percy knew what to expect this time so he braced himself and held on as tight as he could. He could not fail now. He was too close.

The dog slumped onto the floor which made percy's last task much more easier. With agility and caution the boy leapt onto the middle head and punctured the eyes out which evoked a whimper which made the boy feel bad for the animal and it slowly turned to dust.

In an instant the boy caught his breath and his mind raced with only one thing.

Aurora.

"Aurora! Sunshine! Where are you?" The boy felt as though he could not breathe. His head was spinning trying to find her in the mountains of trees and in the darkness of this forest, he has never needed to see her more now than any other time.

"Aurora! Please if you can hear me make a sound! Anything so I know you're alive" He would never leave her. He would die before he left her to rot in these woods. He would never be able to face the guilt and loss.

"Please! Say SOMETHING" he could feel himself getting frustrated. "HELP! SOMEONE, ANYONE" tears welded in his eyes trying to find her.

There was a rustle of leaves from the left side behind him. He was running to the sound before it even registered in the back of his mind. He kept hearing the rustling and a small whimper.

He saw a faint glow of light behind a tree and he held his breath for the sight that was to come. He skidded to a stop and fell on his knees infront of her.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw her. Her face was significantly paler than when he left her and she had a wood splinter sticking out of her thigh and worst of all, the 4 claw marks across her abdomen with blood everywhere, it seemed to have stopped pouring, but it was a nauseating sight to see. He didnt know what to do.

"Aurora, darling, open your eyes" his hands reached her cheeks and his thumb rubbed circled on her cheek and his two fingers made their way to her neck to check her pulse. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse. It was faint but not too faint to the point it would slip too far out of his grasp.

He reached for his bag on his back to get some first aid supplies, ambrosia and nectar for the girl, when she let out a pained gasp.

The girl had barely an recollection of anything, the only thing on her mind at the moment was the immense pain shooting through her whole body, It felt like she was on fire and couldnt breathe. She wanted to die.

Then her vision cleared and she saw the golden haired boy looked at her like she was the only thing in the whole world, he held so much worry in his eyes that she thought for a second if she was already dead and it was her spirit seeing his reaction to her death.

"Gods, Aurora, you're okay. You had be so worried, I was terrified, I cannot lose you. If I lost you I would lose myself" The boy held one hand to her cheek while speaking so intently to her.

In that one moment she could feel his stare, like clockwork, bubble something inside of her. It almost made her forget why she was on the ground, why she could taste something metallic in the back of her mouth, why she couldnt move her right leg. It almost took it away. Almost.

That fire spread throughout her body again and she couldnt stop the wail that left her mouth. The pain was nauseating. A flood of curses left Percy's mouth as he grabbed the bottle of nectar and opened it.

"Okay, sunshine, I know you're in a lot of pain but I'm going to give you some nectar, you need to drink it but you need to sit up a little straighter." The girl immediately shook her head as a no in response to the boy.

"I know. The amount of times we've both had to do it but you know deep down that its the only thing that will fix it." The girl tried to harden her stare at the boy but she was too weak to even look at him properly.

"O-okay, but... I can't" she inhaled sharply as she tried to move the slightest bit. She didn't have to finish her sentence for the boy to understand what she was trying to say. He took one his flannel button ups from his bag, scrunched it up and gave it to her. She could only give him a confused look.

"Put it in your mouth, bite down hard cause I'm gonna move you into the right position and its gonna be a pain. I'm sorry sunshine but I have to." She took it with her shaking hands and was about to put it in her mouth when she smelt it, sea salt and musk, then the girl really looked at what the item of clothing was.

"this is yours" she said in a hoarse voice, looking up at him, confusion plastered all over her features.

"Well I dont exactly know where your bag is so next best thing." he gave her a weak smile and moved closer to her but she weakly grabbed his hand.

"I'm scared" she whispered so pathetically but the boy understood, he knew her. He knew that he needed to keep talking to her, to make sure he is doing something close enough to her for her to know that she's still alive.

He only interlaced their fingers and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

"I won't let go, I promise. You aren't leaving me, not after everything we have been through together" the girl's eyes welled with tears but she nodded and stuffed her mouth with Percy's flannel.

He wrapped his arms around her from the side, where he was sitting and placed a kiss in the hair before counting down.

"3...2..." the boy didnt get to 1 before he pulled her up so she was sitting not laying down and with the movement came muffled screams and tears that flowed down the girls face. He was whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she lent into him and he repeatedly kissed her hair or forehead.

"I'm sorry sunshine, I really am. When you're all better I promise you can hit me" he tried to uplift her but she could barely hear him. Her body shook and agony filled her every sense. He couldn't even express the guilt and regret he felt for the girl, immediately grabbing the nectar, and slowly taking his flannel out of her mouth.

"You're doing great sweetheart" he says while slowly pouring the nectar into her mouth. Her head is resting against his shoulder as she swallows the drink down in small sips. After she drank it, Percy put it away and the girl began to close her eyes.

"Hey, hey, sunshine you can't be doing that right now. Come on I need to patch you up and then we need to get back to camp, I'll call blackjack. I know how much you like riding on him" he lifts her head off his shoulder and places her on the tree, but this time sitting up so he has easy access to her abdomen.

She opened one eye and slightly smiled at the boy.

"You're gonna call blackjack?" the girl asked a bit delirious but seemingly in less pain. This brought a instant smile to him as he let out a chuckle, nodding his head while grabbing gauze and 2 bandage rolls.

"I promise I will, but you have to make sure to keep fighting okay. Once this is over, I have something special to tell you" He came loser to the girl and her breath slowed for a moment.

He looked at her abdomen and a thought crossed his head that made blood rush to his cheeks, he was thankful the girl was delirious and it was dark or else he would simply wallow away. He cleared his throat and looked back up to the girl.

"I'm going to have to cut your shirt off so I can access the cuts and clean them properly" he looked into her eyes once but couldnt face her after that.

"okay" she whispered in return, locking her eyes onto his every move.

The boy went back into his bag and grabbed a pair of scissors then faced the girl again. He could feel her watchful eyes on him the entire time and he hated to say it but that small voice in the back of his head was wishing she was a bit more delirious right now so he wasnt under her scrutiny while undressing her. Clearing his throat again, he begins to speak.

"Just tell me when to slow down or when to stop, if it gets too painful for you and I'll stop and slow down, okay" he looked to her for reassurance and an okay, to which she nodded.

He didn't know how to position himself so he just opted for kneeling next to her, facing her. He then grabbed the scissors and started to cut her top. Starting from the bottom to the top. As he reached the first claw mark the girl hissed as the shirt was stuck to the wound due to all the dried blood. Percy automatically stopped what he was doing.

"No, no, keep going, don't stop now otherwise we will never get this done and I can't go back to camp cause I'll be dead" her honey-brown eyes were glossed with tears and the boy just wanted to hold her in his arms until the end of time in a place where they aren't fighting monsters all the damn time and in a place where they can settle down, have fun and just enjoy their life like regular teenagers.

"Don't say that so casually, you are not going to die. Not when you have me. Not when I'll always be here for you, patching you up, nursing you back to health forever. I will never in a million years let you die. I swear on the river Styx."

She couldn't say anything to him, he will always render her speechless. She just nodded her head as tears cascaded down her cheeks to which he wiped away and placed a kiss on her forehead. Feeling the warmth off eachother brought a sense of peace to them that no one else could ever fill.

He finished wiping her tears away and then continued cutting her shirt away from the wound. Every time she hissed, winced or flinched, the boy had the overwhelming urge to stop everything he was doing as long as it stopped bring her more pain. Whenever this would happen, the girl would softly squeeze his knee, as her hand was resting there to make sure he was still close to her and was still okay and breathing.

This reassured him immensely but it did not stop him from the guilt that was drowning him. This would not have happened if it wasn't for him. She would not be in this position right now if he just chose someone else to go on the quest with. She had almost died due to his decision making. He chose her, he told her the plan, the plan that put her straight into danger, he didnt even second guess his choice, he put her into the battlefield without even asking her properly. Whatever he said went.

The boy had not realised that during his intense self-loathing session, he zoned out and stopped the task at hand.

"Perce?" the girl asked while bringing her hand from his knee to his bicep. "Are you okay? whats going on in your kelp filled brain?" she said with a half smile as the boy looked up at her.

"Nothing, its okay. Just zoned out for a sec" he replied in an instant, looked away from her and continued to cut her shirt away. He was almost at her breasts and he could feel himself getting a bit hot. Obviously, there was no reason to in this situation but just being so close and intimate to her in a non sexual way made him flustered, he couldn't even imagine of it was in a sex- STOP. He shouted at his brain.

She let out a whimper of pain and a few laboured breaths as Percy carefully peeled her shirt of off the biggest wound she had. Her hand squeezed his knee harder than he would have liked her to but it didnt matter, not anymore, not when he caused this, not when he was the reason for her pain.

He finally got it off the biggest cut and last cut and now he just had to cut the rest of the shirt off. No big deal right?

WRONG.

The boy was telling himself to suck it up and just cut the rest of her shirt off but he was flustered. It was times like this that made him remember he was just a boy. He was just a boy with a silly crush. Except it isnt a 'silly crush' he was utterly in love with the girl. He tried to clear his head and at the same time, cleared his throat while he cut higher.

He could feel her eyes watching him, he could feel how fast her heart was racing and he could feel how fast his own was racing. It was as though their hearts were in sync. Every beat was the same.

Yes the girl felt flustered in this situation, she also couldn't help but want to tease the boy she loved. The girl had always grown up with a life where she never 'loved' anyone, not truly. To her love was always a very strong word in her dictionary but whatever she felt for Percy Jackson it was so powerful she felt as though she needed a word more meaningful than love.

A word that expressed how everytime she thought of him, that specific memory of him will be branded in her brain forever to the point where even Hera could never make her forget him or forget the way he makes her feel.

He makes her feel alive, the most alive shes every felt in her 16 years of life.

"Are you blushing water boy?" the girl asked him with a half smile on her face and eyes half opened as she felt a sharp pain run through her, while also trying to control her own breathing at the same time. Percy didn't respond, he only kept cutting her shirt off, fingers lightly brushing over the material of her bra.

She held her breath when he did that, whether it was on purpose of not, the feeling it sent through her body made her want to repeatedly bash her head against a solid wall while ripping her eyes out... in a good way of course.

Percy finally cut her shirt fully off and it just slid down her arms and bunched at the bottom, near the tree. She felt exposed and could feel the goosebumps on her exposed skin. Percy didn't waste any time and grabbed a clean towel and his water bottle.

Before he could drenched it in water, she stopped him by kicking him with her uncompromised leg to indicate he needed to stop. This instantly stopped him and caused him to look at her.

"Give me the water bottle before you soak the towel, if the water is warm it will work better and not hurt as much so i'll just heat it up" Percy thought about it for a second before he retaliated.

"You already aren't well enough to get off the ground, how on earth are you going to make it back to camp if you drain yourself of more energy. I know its going to hurt but it will either way, but getting you back to camp is the priority at the moment" Percy didnt want to say those words to the girl, he felt so bad for her and he couldn't help but blame himself. And when he looked into her eyes, like really looked into her eyes after he said that, he wished he could take it back.

Just looking at her made him want to give into her.

"I can take it, I promise, I'll be okay enough to get back to camp, but I'm telling you now Percy, if I feel anymore extreme pain, I will just end up passing out. Please just let me do this." she tried to move closer to the boy but forgot about the fact that she literally could not move a single inch without his help.

This just lead the boy to wrap his arm around her back and lent her against the tree again. He looked at her with a stern look.

"Okay, you win. But you have to promise on the river Styx that you will preserve every other bit of your energy for the ride back home."

"I swear on the River Styx that I will preserve every other bit of my energy for the ride back to camp" He gave her one last look before giving her the water bottle. She focused some most of her energy to her hands and they started to glow. She took the bottle from percy's hand and he could feel the warmth radiate off of her.

He looked at her in awe but if anyone else was there they would have told you that the boy was love struck. She opened her eyes and made sure to not boil the water. As it was simmering, she gave the bottle back to the boy and he instantly uncapped it and poured the, now warm, water onto the towel.

"This is going to hurt... a lot, and by a lot i mean a lot, you might want to brace yourself" the boy said as he gave his flannel back to her and some ambrosia for her to eat before they start the painful part of fixing her up.

Aurora took both and muttered a small thanks under her breath before eating the ambrosia which was very pleasant to chew and then stuffed percy's flannel in her mouth again. She felt so weird but if she didnt and someone heard her scream bloody murder, they would get caught and the police would want them... again.

His ocean blue eyes met her honey eyes and he shared a look of regret and guilt before he wiped the dried blood away, starting from the bottom of her abdomen. She instantly clenched her jaw and recoiled as agony ran through her and her hand immediately shot out to grab Percy's wrist in a painfully tight hold to stop him from further cleaning the wounds that caused her pain.

"Sunshine, I know its painful, but I have to do this, I'm going to do this as fast and gently as I can but I will have to be rough at times" he gently takes his freehand to clasp over hers and took it of him and intertwined them while speaking to her.

In his favour, it seemed that the energy it took the girl to warm the water up finally caught up with her as her hand lost most of its grip and her eyes closed slightly. He chuckled slightly and placed her hand back down next to her before continuing what he was doing.

He carefully but efficiently cleaned the areas surrounding her wounds while she was rejuvenating. He would hear muffled noises from time to time but other than that she was essentially knocked out. As he finished she seemed to feel less tired and her eyes opened wider than they did before.

"I'm almost finished sunshine, did you like your nap?" the boy questioned with a smirk but deep down he was glad that she kept her promise and she would have enough energy to go back to camp.

The girl nodded and looked at her abdomen. It was really clean and the wounds were barely bleeding anymore but she was fucking freezing. She shivered a little bit and percy could tell instantly.

"I've just got to bandage you up then you can put a jumper on. Okay?" he reassured her while taking the sterile dressing, he placed it over the 4 slashes and began to unwrap the dressing to bandage her up.

They both soon found the position to be quite awkward.

Percy needed to bandage her whole abdomen which needed him to wrap the dressing over her back but she was lent up against the tree without a shirt on and unable to move to do it herself. He stopped to think of a good way to do this.

"Okay, I've got it. I'll lean you up against me and bandage your abdomen from behind." The girl thought for a bit before she agreed and the boy got up so he was only seen in her peripheral vision. He hooked his arms under hers and moved her along the ground to sit inbetween his legs. The position felt very compromising for both of them but it needed to be done.

She could feel his warm breath on her cold neck and she felt the urge to pass away because if thats how she passed, she would not mind. She held her breath as Percy begun wrapping her abdomen, she could barely feel the pain cause all she could think about and feel was him.

His breath on her neck, his fingers brushing her skin, how carefully he was handling her, like she would break at the wrong touch. He was everything she wanted, everything she needed. Everything they both deserved.

He quickly finished wrapping her up and he mentally called Blackjack from where ever he was right now. Before he could move or start to get things sorted he just looked at Aurora. She was peaceful. She looked ethereal under the moonlight, though she did look better under direct sunlight.

He decided to just stay still for a bit and wrapped an arms around the girl loosely as to not injure or hurt her more. They just needed some rest, no matter how long or short it was.

Both Aurora and Percy could hear the flap of Blackjacks wings so he quickly moved the girl back to lean against the tree while he packed everything away. Not before making sure to torniquet the girls leg where the wood piece was still protruding out of it. He made the decision before to not take it out as they both did not know how severe the injury underneath it was.

Percy grabbed a warm, woolly jumper from his bag and a blanket and gave both items to the girl before zipping it up.

"I'm going to find your bag and your bracelet before we leave, and before you say anything. I'm going to call Blackjack here to be with you before I look for them" he stated as he got up.

"Thanks a lot Perce, but before you look, how am I meant to put this jumper on without raising my arms and disrupting my bandages" Percy felt like an idiot. He dropped his bag back on the ground and knelt next to her carefully putting the jumper through one arms hole, then the next, then her head through.

Percy would never admit it there and then but he always loved when the girl would wear his clothes. It sent a warm fuzzy feeling through him knowing she was wearing his clothes, especially when she was willingly wearing his clothes.

Similarly, Aurora would never admit it there but having Percy help her get changed into his clothes and help clean her up made her fall even more in love with him if that was even possible. She felt as though she was just falling into deep pit everytime he did anything for her or even just looked her way.

He finished by wrapping her up in the blanket and chuckled when he saw how she looked... Exactly like a burrito.

Blackjack came down and the girls eyes instantly widened at the sight of the creature. To which the boy just smiled at. Before he left to retrieve her bag and bracelet which were very easy to find. He quickly arrived back to the girl and Pegasus and was met with an adorable sight.

The Pegasus was on the floor next to the girl and was almost hugging her with its wing. Percy didnt think he could fall in love with the girl again but she has gone and proved him wrong, like always.

"I've got your things sunshine, and I know its going to hurt but I'm going to have to pick you up to put you on Blackjack. Is that okay?" He knelt next to her and she nodded.

He wrapped an arm around her back and one under her knees, making sure not to hit the piece of wood and picked the girl up, quite easily, bridal style. It make them both feel fuzzy and warm inside. Even blackjack could feel the warmth.

He placed her sitting on the Pegasus so she would be infront of him when he got on. He then grabbed both of their bags and got onto blackjack himself.

"You'd normally need to hold on tight to blackjack but I'll hold you okay? Just rest" The boy whispered in her ear as he gave her a peck on her cheek while she slowly drifted off and leaned her head back onto the boy's shoulder.

"Blackjack, No crazy flying today. We aren't at war today, its a rest day. Just take us back to camp, quick but not to the point we normally fly." Blackjacks reply left Percy with pink staining his cheeks and they made their way back to camp.

______________________________________________________________

OH MY FUCKING DAYS, I AM NEVER WRITING ANYTHING THIS LONG AGAIN

(such a fucking lie)

But I have to honest, apart from the small mental breakdowns. This was really fun to write. I love these two soo much.

When I went into this, I wanted to actually get them back to camp and I wanted them to confess but it was getting tooooooo long for that so if anyone wants a part 2, I'll gladly make it. Please dont critique me too much, this is still my first imagine 😭😭😭

I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️❤️❤️

unless you piss me off

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silkjade · 2 years

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genshin men as wedding dates (2)

It’s wedding season and you’ve got a large one coming up. But it’s not just any wedding, it’s a family wedding meaning…extended relatives. Are you going to brave the night out on your own or are you rsvping with a plus one?

Featuring— Albedo, Kazuha, Itto, Ayato, Heizou, Scaramouche

gn!reader, modern au, mentions of alcohol, mostly platonic but implied romantic feelings

Part 1 - Part 2 (here) - Part 3

ALBEDO

so the bad news is that you find out he’s the hired live wedding painter. turns out all the times you shared his art posts on your instagram story were not for naught

the good news is that all he has to paint is the first kiss!

tbh he accepted your relative’s commission as an excuse to ‘coincidentally’ run into you, he just didn’t think you’d ask him to be your date

overhears a lot of gossip while he’s painting and tells you everything when you come over to hang out and watch

you bring him cake since he’s busy and he asks you, super nonchalantly, to feed him

“as you can see, my hands are a bit full at the moment” you’re too flustered to notice the slight twitch of his lips, a subtle smirk

not too keen on dancing so he just sits around and sketches. you manage to drag him away for at least one dance. he’s forced to leave his sketchbook and returns to find that it’s gone

someone ends up returning it to you? since it’s filled with sketches of you, you must know who it belongs to. you’re in disbelief but lo and behold, you open it to find various sketches of you throughout the night; dancing, laughing, even just standing around

you look up to see albedo himself standing in front of you, frozen in shock... wait he can explain-

KAZUHA

love in the air, romance in the wind…he is in his element. even more so if it’s an outdoor wedding

you tell him he doesn’t have to bring his own gift, but he insists and brings a little bonsai plant for a harmonious marriage

A HIT with your family because he’s just so well mannered and polite (his flowery words also make him especially charming to the older ladies)

truly a double edged sword though because he gets stuck in an essential oil mlm pitch

it’s sunset after the ceremony so you two take a walk through the rose garden to kill time before the reception. you comment the roses smell nice so he picks one out (he’s so bold, the sign literally says ‘do not pick the roses’)

mans is out here quoting shakespeare “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet” and then he puts it in your hair

your other single relatives are seething with jealousy

he keeps talking about what he would do differently for his wedding but he sometimes slips in ‘we’ and ‘our’

“perhaps for our cake we could do a different flavor for each layer.” is he insinuating something or just referencing his future spouse?

ITTO

takes so. many. photos. of you, of him, the decor, the scenery, everything. he’s sending them all in real time to his arataki gang gc and you know his boys are hyping him up the way he’s smiling at his phone

the ceremony is outdoors so unfortunately there are bugs. even more unfortunate is that a mosquito is flying around itto and he raises his arm to swat it away right…when…the officiant asks if there are any objections

yikes

other than that, he’s not a bad date. he’s funny, he dances, he’ll bring you a plate everytime he makes another round to the buffet table

the kids love him. he’s fun but also takes them seriously so that dance battle with the 8 year old? yeah he wasn’t holding back. keeps them out of trouble as well e.g. he stopped your bratty little nephew from running straight into the first dance

they’re following him around like a mini arataki gang, you just want your date back please

signs his name obnoxiously large in the guest book

at the end of the night he is still just a big sweetheart. if your feet hurt from your shoes or dancing or even if you’re just too tired to walk, he will offer you a piggy back ride

AYATO

surprisingly eager to agree. he’s excited for his first real wedding since all the ones he has previously attended were glorified networking events

no one outside the business sphere really has a face to the name so you don’t have to worry about attracting too much attention

he talks about his job (financially stable ✓) and his relationship with his younger sister (family oriented ✓); multiple aunts are asking why you aren’t dating this nice young man? your face heats up in embarrassment and he’s enjoying every second of it! fans the flames like

“yes, why aren’t we dating?”

the reception has a diy drink mixing station so obviously you guys have to make each other’s drinks. at least you tried to make him something decent; he has the audacity to smile while handing you peppermint schnapps and fruit punch honestly wtf

slips the photographer a crisp $100 to take some extra candids of you and him and gives them a burner email to send the photos to

kind of just sways on the dance floor at first but it’s nothing your encouragement (and some alcohol) can’t fix! unlocking fun ayato is always nice

the newly weds wanted a private last dance so everyone is ushered outside to prep for the send-off. you guys go off to the side where he asks you for your own private last dance

doesn’t want the night to end but he won’t say it outright, just keeps hinting at it. you take him out for late night skewers and boba

HEIZOU

the sunglasses are a part of his outfit

scavenger hunt champion; he figures out the clues so fast people just start lingering around, trying to overhear his thoughts. purposely says the wrong answer out loud and sends a crowd running the opposite direction

a very fun and solid date. he’s ready to party and you’re not surprised to see he’s such a smooth dancer. honestly it’s kind of sexy? shikanoin slayzou

at some point during the night, he is at the front of the conga line

people watching! he makes some offhand comments about some guests and before you know it, you’re creating random backstories for them

you get a little bit of cake at the corner of your mouth so he wipes it off for you with his thumb

“oh! you got a little something right— here, let me get it for you”

he doesn’t think much of it and goes right back to eating and socializing. for someone normally so sharp, he sure doesn’t notice the way he’s making your heart do backflips in your chest

tells you exactly where to stand to catch the bouquet; let’s out a big whoop when you catch it because it was all based on vibes and intuition. go figure

SCARAMOUCHE

straight up says no but you keep going on and on and on that he finally agrees just so you’d stop. says he’s going for the drama, which isn’t a lie

if he hears just a whisper of pregnancy news…he is going to congratulate them out loud, fake smile and all. also brings up controversial topics at your table for some good old fashioned family entertainment

when he sees your cousin being mean to you he claps back by asking why their plus one has been drooling after that pretty bridesmaid like a dog. Your cousin throws their drink on him and storms off and you’re ready for him to throw a fit but he just bursts out laughing because it was so worth it

doesn’t smile in any group photos, and the more the photographer takes, the more visibly annoyed he looks

told you way before the wedding that he does not dance, but he feels a little bad seeing you just sitting at your table so he flicks your forehead and you look up to him offering his hand

“come on. what kind of date what I be if we don’t even dance” he says begrudgingly. he doesn’t meet your eyes but you swear you see a light dusting of pink across his face when you take his hand

it was the most awkward dance ever but it’s the thought that counts and you’re touched

someone accidentally sets his jacket on fire during the sparkler send-off

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact writing #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact scenarios #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #itto x reader #ayato x reader #heizou x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin hcs

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silkscream · 1 month

Text

CHAPTER 9: GOD IS A CIRCLE

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

Your angels do not react. They only look at you with concern, shielding you from the blazing sun with their wings. They stare as you laugh, doubling over, falling backwards into the green grass. You only remember that you’re alive when they trace the contours of your body with their fingertips.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, high sex, threesome, oral sex, fingering, graphic depictions of violence and blood, recreational drug usage, biblical imagery, angst

ੈ✩ wc: 5.5k

ੈ✩ a/n: i was barely conscious when i wrote this. sorry bout it

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

August, 2009

Bliss is never eternal. If it was, you’d think the world would stop turning with everyone busy with their greatest indulgences. It’s not like you were much of a hedonist anyway, not even with Satoru’s influence.

You feel intoxicated with him and Suguru, but it’s not enough to keep you from reality. Yaga-sensei proves this the moment the boys are ordained the task of protecting the star plasma vessel—a fourteen-year-old girl with more spirit than you ever had at that age. You admire her spunk, her unwillingness to take shit from either of the boys. It entertains you endlessly.

“How do you deal with them?” she mutters to you. You learn that her name is Riko Amanai. She loves the ocean and has a sweet tooth like Satoru. Her favorite flavor is anything blue.

“I keep them in check.”

“Are you my bodyguard too?”

“Not really,” you laugh. “But I’ll be around.”

Riko likes you. She clings to you more than you anticipate, considering this isn’t your mission, but you understand. She’s vulnerable despite her confidence in her fate as Tengen’s vessel. Talks a big game with blue eyes shining bright, similar to Satoru.

She pouts at your absence. You think nothing of it, knowing that she’s in good hands between the boys and that caretaker of hers. The bounty on the girl’s head is daunting, but the boys are the strongest, and you watch them evade the enemies easily.

It’s when they end up in Okinawa that something in your chest feels a bit empty. A bad omen, anxiety pooling in your gut.

Satoru texts you pictures from the beach—sea creatures from the ocean and the aquarium, selfies with Suguru that are often blurry. He texts you how much he misses you, how much he craves the parts of you that you think may be too intimate to even talk about out loud, let alone through text. Suguru sends you pictures of Riko and Satoru on the beach with the creatures they pick up from the ocean, of sunsets he knows you would enjoy.

You ache for their return.

satoru: gonna stay for another day jsyk

you: having fun?

satoru: yeaaaa

satoru: tired as fuck though

satoru: but riko likes the beach. thought we could give her one more day

you: you’re sweet

satoru: not as sweet as uuuuuuuuu

satoru: she says hi btw

satoru: shes mad ur not here

you: she likes me more than you

satoru: >:(

you: i’ll see you soon. get some sleep please

satoru: anything for u baby

Something has gone terribly wrong.

You have no reason to be worried—Satoru is more than capable of handling that assassin, no matter how swift his movements may be. It was whiplash to see a sword go through him, and it was whiplash to see Satoru react like it was a paper cut.

Now, in the Tombs of the Star, you feel a chill run up your spine as you escort Kuroi out. She’s still emotional, wiping tears after her goodbye to Amanai. Trepidation strikes you the same way it did in that forest all those months ago. The air has grown cold, but you can’t sense any other cursed energy but your own.

“Kuroi,” you breathe.

“Yes?” She sniffles, wiping her tears quickly.

“Go on without me,” you say cautiously. “I think I better guard the Tomb just in case. For Geto.”

“Alright. Thank you for being there for them.” Kuroi smiles at you with a warmth you aren’t sure that you deserve.

“I wasn’t the one protecting her.”

“I know, but she admired you a lot. We missed you in Okinawa.”

You pull her into a hug, one that you wish you’d given Riko moments prior. It’s a parting gift.

When she departs, you’re left alone in a dark hallway. You expect a spirit to jump out — something monstrous, an amalgamation of your nightmares. But this is a sacred place, you suppose. One meant for sacrifices and blessings. You’ve never really believed in blessings. The world is built on too many curses for that.

Something in the air made you want to choke, swallow back bile. Nothing like your old anxiety spells. It’s something else, you’re sure of it. And yet, it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. The rustle of fabric.

He couldn’t go undetected, not completely. Not when your intuition was on overdrive, making you sick with it. Your senses acute.

“Haven’t seen you before.”

His voice is raspy, the sound of skinned palms on pavement. Deep the way Japanese whiskey burns down and sits in your stomach a little too heavy. There’s a split on the corner of his mouth as if he’d been nicked by a thorn. He smiles at you with lazy, bovine eyes and a snake-like smirk.

This man is not a figment of your imagination — he’s real as can be as he towers over yet, and there’s not a lick of cursed energy you can feel, even when you’re this close to him. A human.

You think about Satoru and the sword that went through his chest. You look at the sword that the stranger in front of you wields. Within a second, you rush to touch him, but your technique doesn’t activate as soon as you want it, too. He slashes you across the stomach, crimson permeating the torn fabric of your uniform.

“Weak little girl,” he chides. “You’re too pretty to kill, though.”

You gag, nearly vomiting on the ground.

“You their girlfriend or what? Would’ve thought they were fucking each other, to be honest.”

You shake your head weakly, your vision blurring already. You hear a bark of a laugh. Not even your bared teeth can be taken seriously, not when you’re bleeding out on the ground. He tuts as if he’s scolding you.

“He’ll kill you,” you hiss. The man laughs again. You must be referring to one of your boys. He grins wider when he realizes.

“Which one? The one with the bangs?” he scoffs. “Because I already killed the Gojo brat, sweetheart.”

You feel your heart drop, sinking like an anchor as the feeling drags your body down with it. You look at him with wide eyes, and the sadistic stare you get back tells you he wants to humiliate you. It would hurt less if he just killed you.

Satoru would never die by the hand of a non-sorcerer. Not a fucking chance. But the notion doesn’t stop the itch behind your nose, your eyes threatening tears. The man crouches, his face looking down at you in mock sympathy, and places a rough palm to your face, swipes your quivering bottom lip. You taste blood.

You clutch his wrist immediately and he raises his hand.

Something metal whips the side of your face, something heavy. Your sight of vision narrows into black.

When you wake, you aren’t sure if you’ve arrived in a nightmare or had just left one.

For one, Satoru is saturated in blood. The scratches on his face are brutal. He looks half feral, half shell-shocked. It’s nothing you’ve seen before.

Despondency paints Suguru’s face into a shadow of himself. There’s something off about their cursed energy.

You don’t want to ask them how the rest of the mission went — you can already tell what the answer might be. If everything went according to plan, there wouldn’t be a blank stare in each of their eyes. If everything was fine, they would return to you like themselves — animated and flirty and teasing. If everything was the way it was meant to be, maybe you wouldn’t have the slight scar of a side wound aching at the side of your gut.

Instead, they’re all business. It’s like they look through you when they speak to you.

“Is Riko…” you trail off.

“She’s dead,” they say.

They deliver the news to you, expressionless. Mirroring each other.

There’s a blankness in Satoru’s eyes. Cold. No one exactly knows how to deal with being killed only to bring yourself back again. The thought of his mangled body surrounded by flyheads makes your stomach churn.

He had always been god-like, prodigal. After being reborn, he really was a God. Untouchable. You’d think him to be cockier or more cruel, but on the surface, he’s devoid of anything, really. He’s stony-eyed, instead, a little empty behind the face. There’s a spark of something when he sees the large bruise on your cheekbone and the ghost of a slash on your rib.

He won’t say much about the man who killed him. Only that he had no cursed energy and a son. You remember a scar bending with the curve of a mouth and sharp green eyes.

It’s quiet at Jujutsu Tech afterward. Yaga continues classes like he always does, and all of you do your best. There are fewer missions that are being demanded of you. You think it’s because of the failed mission. Despite this, Satoru takes on whatever he can, even volunteering for the tougher ones just so he can let off some steam. Suguru often tags along with him, leaving you alone to sulk.

You don’t think you have any reason to sulk. It’s not like you were killed, anyway.

You feel them both pulling away. You don’t bother to pry — they at least seem to be occupied with each other. They were best friends before you ever got close to either of them. You knew your place. You’d give them space, knowing the gravity of the trauma they’d experienced on the mission, and yet your heart ached all the same. It was a familiar hurt, the same you’d felt in high school about Satoru. It was only peculiar now because those feelings applied to both of them.

But then there are times when Satoru sneaks into your room like he always does. He likes to nip at your shoulder with teeth that feel sharper, meaner. Hand around your throat, the calluses squeezing flesh. He likes to pin you down to the mattress, likes to hear the squeak of the bedframe as he fucks into you mercilessly.

Suguru takes you, too, but not so desperately, not so obviously. He lures you in, instead. You realize that he’s different than Satoru in the way that he has the patience for games. It explains the teasing, the touching. He’ll have you wrapped around his finger just from talking to you, and within the hour, he’ll be fucking into your soaked cunt in the locker rooms after sparring.

You suppose this is the way they both let out their frustrations, how they cope with the trauma of losing Riko. They were tightlipped about her.

Both of them had changed in ways that were beyond your comprehension.

Satoru gets colder. Similar to the way he was in high school, when he barely acknowledged you. He doesn’t like to look at you for very long, as if the mere fact of his gaze on you would hurt him, hurt you. It was stupid. He didn’t care about your fragility before, so what point was there to care about it now?

Suguru is mostly the same, just quieter. Hell, he’d always been quiet, other than the times he’d fuck you or when you’d be alone with him. His sarcastic streak was weaker. He touched you less.

You can’t stand any of it.

Satoru isn’t meant to be someone so vulnerable. It’s out of character for him.

You soothe his nightmares when he wakes you up in the middle of the night clutching your waist with nails digging into the skin underneath your shirt. He’s always shaking, always mumbling something nonsensical.

Selfishly, you find that it feels nice to be needed. To be his only form of salvation during these times.

In his waking moments, Satoru is himself again. Belligerently so, with his recklessness. It’s up to you and Suguru to tame him, often. Satoru is almost a different version of himself – familiar and still annoying — but he is much more adamant about his power, nowadays. A God complex in the making.

Satoru gets greedier. He likes to wake you up with his nose nudging your clit, tongue already making a mess of your hole. No amount of pushing his head away with your hand would make him stop, though you blame yourself for indulging.

He likes to tease you for the semblance of control. You suspect that beyond playing with you, he finds solace in Suguru, instead. They aren’t particularly shy about it—sometimes you walk into Satoru’s dorm and find them entangled with one another, clothes off and warm to the touch. They always welcome you into their arms, forcing you in between them.

You feel like you’re at an arm’s length from them at all times despite this.

November, 2009

You settle on a routine. It’s less than pleasant, but you’re used to it. Convincing yourself that it’s normal, at least.

Yaga puts you on more solo missions — you’ve improved your technique. The precision of it is tough, always a wildcard given the unpredictability of destruction beneath your fingertips. Regardless, it’s gotten better. It doesn’t traumatize you so much to be a vehicle of decay anymore. You’re numb to it.

It’s odd — you’re carrying the burden of something you didn’t experience. Satoru finds that you are a mirror for Suguru, the same temperament and all. Always leaving the party to smoke cigarettes together. It doesn’t make him pissy necessarily, but it makes him pout. Clingy to the both of you.

“Stop being antisocial,” he whines.

You and Suguru look up at him in question. He had followed you out of the party when you saw Satoru’s hand on the waist of a girl you didn’t recognize. It was nothing, probably, but it wasn’t something you had ever had to deal with. It wasn’t like he could pry anything out of you, anyway.

“We’re not,” you defend, waving a cigarette around. “It’s too hot in there.”

It was true, to be fair. You were too warm in there and the outside air was nice. That, and you figured that Suguru would follow you, and he always wanted to steal you away for kisses.

Satoru had technically intruded on that, interrupting the moment Suguru had pulled away from your mouth. He eyes you wearing Suguru’s jacket and softens.

“You wanna go home, don’t you?” he asks.

“I can stay if you want,” you shrug.

He sighs. “Can you guys at least hang out with me?”

“Needy,” Suguru teases, stomping the butt of his cigarette on the ground and ushering you in between the sliding glass doors, hand on the small of your back. He nips at Satoru’s neck on the way in.

As if in apology, you don’t leave Satoru’s lap for the rest of the night. You don’t really get to. He even follows you to the bathroom and considers taking you over the counter for the hell of it.

It’s been difficult to touch you, lately.

In late August, the Zen’in outcast had killed him. Satoru had never thought of death as an option that was even possible. It’s why his mind was frenzied in his last moments, panicked as the two of them were surrounded by fly heads. He had not anticipated death, hadn’t anticipated the impact of it, how Suguru would have to return his corpse to Jujutsu Tech. How you would be shedding overflowing tears.

He’d like to think that your face or Suguru’s was in his mind when he took his last breath, but truthfully, he doesn’t remember. His mind was blank.

And when he had risen from the dead and shot a lethal hole through Toji Fushiguro, his mind was blank then, as well. The euphoria had faded. He had fulfilled the ordained role of a boygod, his hands were bloody, and he killed a man who would leave behind a son. He thought of his supposed immortality, his transcendence beyond something human, and then he thought of you.

You were the most human thing about him.

Your warmth, the flush in your cheeks. The way he had taken you back when you were in school, none the wiser about the world of curses. Sometimes he thinks you are one.

It wasn’t meant to go this far, but he had taken the leap and continued to wade in the pool of it all. He does not think of love when he thinks of his family, but he thinks of love when he sees you and Suguru. Something beating, something alive.

It was why he was constantly tipping the line between overflowing completely and being numb — Satoru was no stranger to his indulgences. You, on the other hand, were something else entirely. Fragile underneath his hands. Sometimes, he didn’t even think it was worth it to keep you in the bear trap he had set for you.

And then Suguru would kiss away your tears when Satoru was too rough, too cold, and he would succumb to his desires again. Instead of being something akin to a god, he often dreamt about being ordinary.

Maybe if his birth didn’t throw the planet off its kilter, he could truly be good to you instead of wanting to cut you open and live inside of you. Satoru would always be safe in your skin, but he had started to doubt that you would ever be safe in his.

You were the first to know him, he thinks. You had met him as a child and didn’t assume his divinity, rather, you were oblivious to it. Even as a little servant, you refused to kiss his feet. It relieved him. Satoru knew you always meant more to him than a toy, but in his emerging adulthood, he had taken you as a form of escapism and couldn’t cut you off. You had fastened yourself to him like an extra limb unknowingly.

“I don’t get how you can be so overbearing to her yet so distant at the same time,” Suguru remarks.

Satoru makes a face, scrunching his nose.

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re referring to,” Satoru says blankly.

“The teasing goes too far. And you get insensitive because you’re a prick, and then you barely text her back when you’re on missions.”

Satoru scoffs, fiddling with the pencil he twirls in his hands. Suguru was right, he supposed. He noticed you were a little hollow, all blank stares. Sleeping in while Satoru did not sleep at all.

“They’ve gotten harder lately. And it’s not like I’m–”

“Not what?” Suguru snorts. “Her boyfriend?”

Satoru says nothing to this. Instead, he tackles Suguru onto his bed, slides his palms underneath his shirt and up the smooth planes of his abdomen. He sighs, setting his head on Suguru’s chest.

“It’s not like she cares.”

“She does. She loves you.”

Satoru’s face reddens as if what Suguru says isn’t fact. On Satoru’s end, however – his feelings for you were an understatement. Calling it love seemed fruitless. He’d like to be fused with you, never letting you go. Stuck in the bliss of your skin kissing his in the early mornings forever.

“Think something got knocked loose when I died,” Satoru mumbles, his eyes blank.

Suguru looks at him in question, not following.

“I’ll make it up to her.”

January, 2010

“What are you getting Suguru for his birthday?”

“I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs, a blue raspberry lollipop filling up the hollow of his cheek. Tongue matching the blinding saturation of his eyes. “A blowjob?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t be homophobic! You like watching.”

“I’m serious,” you roll your eyes.

“We’ll take him out,” he grins, shoving his hands in his pockets. Always stupidly attractive, his beauty borderline mythological.

You knew he was lying, knew that he would be away on that Wednesday, that his calendar was always filled a month prior with what the higher-ups needed from him. You thought it was unfair, given that he was still only a second year, though you still knew better. The glaring truth of his strength ever since the failed Star Plasma Vessel mission was conspicuous, a reminder that started to become egregious to you.

Satoru takes some of your takoyaki in unspoken amusement with you rolling your eyes, passing the tray towards him. He pouts despite the gesture, reaching over to poke you in the cheek.

“That can’t taste good with all the sugar in your mouth.”

“You’d be surprised.”

You fixate on the television. Satoru had gotten lucky recently, convincing Yaga to convert one of the common rooms with the connected bathroom into a dorm for himself. He had the Gojo money to “donate”, and he’d been on his best behavior in the past few months, which was rare. It wasn’t like Yaga really gave a fuck about their boarding situation as long as the missions went smoothly.

The room was big enough to fulfill that dream of pushing two beds together. A TV set and dingy couch to match. He needed the TV to fall asleep at night, especially if you weren’t there to stroke his hair. It was the only light source beyond a Hello Kitty lava lamp that Suguru had gotten him as a joke gift.

Satoru had recently started an obsession with Godzilla for some reason, forcing you to watch one every few days before bedtime. You were going in order since Christmas – tonight was the one versus Hedorah.

“You never look at me anymore,” he whines.

“What are you talking about?”

You’d rather say something biting, like how it was the other way around. How he’s been shoving your face into the mattress. How you’d come back to your dorm and see Satoru in between Suguru’s legs without much acknowledgment to you until he’d finish.

“You look at me like I’m a mosquito bite or something. What’s wrong? You don’t think I’m pretty anymore?” he grins, settling his cheek into his palm.

“Not at all. You’re hideous,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. The remark earns you a light kick to your shin under the table.

“Wow. Rude. Personally, I think you’re God-sent.”

“I thought you wanted me to watch this movie,” you mutter, trying not to let him know how much his comment affected you. You always flushed when he said things like that still, and it would always be out of the blue.

“You know I like talking during movies.”

“Right. It’s one of your worst qualities,” you sigh.

The pillows around you are discarded when he suddenly pins you down to the carpet, your face right next to an old ash stain from one of Shoko’s cigarettes. He grins as he parts your mouth with the pad of his thumb, and you’re as obedient as you always are. There’s a ribbon of saliva from his mouth stretching as he takes the lollipop from his tongue to yours.

It wasn’t difficult to get his dick hard, really. He’d known that ever since he’d seen you sprawled on the grass next to the track field when you were fourteen, the way your chest was heaving and your underwear was just slightly visible underneath your gym shorts when you parted your legs.

Satoru thinks you’d laugh in his face if he’d told you about all the times he thought about you when you were teenagers despite the fact that he didn’t speak to you at all. He knows that he would deserve it.

It’s funny. He used to resent you then. He knew he could have you if he’d simply tried a bit harder, if he didn’t so abruptly toss you aside in middle school. Even so, you were everywhere for him—in his dreams, in his house against your will like a chained ghost. Back then, he hated that he loved you, hated that you were weak, hated that, at least besides Suguru, nobody knew him except you.

He wonders briefly if he was high on the taste of you or if the candy is laced with something— he wouldn’t be surprised, since Shoko and Suguru were enablers for the two of you even when you tried to be responsible. It didn’t matter anyway. Your body always made him this frenetic.

It’s when his fingers graze the heat of your cunt that Suguru barges in. He blinks at the two of you entangled on the floor and merely laughs.

“You guys just started?”

“Mmmf,” Satoru grunts. His hand’s wrapped around your neck, now, and your eyes are closed.

Suguru’s musk fills the room. White pine and sugary maple — he’d used Satoru’s deodorant before the mission. There’s still a blood splatter under his cheekbone the color of ripe plums. This was the usual weekend routine. Mindless fucking with a movie in the background. At least one of you would be too exhausted to muster up the energy to go into the city. It was easier to indulge inside, especially when the temperature kept dipping.

Your eyes flutter as Satoru bites your neck down to your collarbone. When you look toward the couch, you see Suguru with a plastic baggie of something you don’t recognize.

“What’s that?”

“Shrooms.”

“How the hell did you manage that?” Satoru quips, his hand digging into your hip.

“There are some freaks in Akihabara,” Suguru shrugs. He eats the mushrooms like they’re crumbs at the bottom of a chip bag. “Got this shit after my mission in a fucking vending machine outside a love hotel. Can you believe it?”

“What, did you get a room there or something?” Satoru snorts. “Whore.”

“Why would I, when I can home to this?” Suguru’s eyes are viper-like, serpentine as he smiles lazily. You’d eat from his palm if he asked you to. In sickness and health—it was stupid. You crawl to him and you do.

Satoru doesn’t take any. He knows full well that psychedelics fuck with his Infinity, that it would only make his insomnia worse. The last time he’d tried acid, he had nightmares for days, seeing green eyes of a hunter. Blood slashed from a blade to his neck. Flyheads swarming.

The drugs make you giddy. Another hour and the room spins in an orderly fashion, the ceiling dancing around in a kaleidoscopic pulse. Suguru had limited your dose, knew you’d freak the fuck out if your self started to disconnect. He’d been there enough times to despise it. Ego death was torture for the introspective kind.

He sucks a hickey into your neck while you’re mindless. It’s amusing how invested you are in this episode of Sailor Moon. Satoru lays his head on your thigh, playing with you lazily. You’re happy enough to take it, grinding against his hand as Suguru distracts you with a kiss. It’s tender and slow, not unusual for him, but with the two of them together, everything is usually frenzied.

He gets you in his lap, the sacrificial lamb you are. Always eager to walk into the predator’s gaping maw on your own accord because of his beautiful eyes. Suguru is no beast, but there’s something twisted about the way he plays with you sometimes.

He likes you to beg for it, but it’s not the taunting way that Satoru does. Suguru will inch his face close enough to yours to smell the artificial sweetness of your breath, then pull your hair when you lean in to kiss him. He’ll touch your thigh under the table, not unlike Satoru, but his fingers will dance around your core in a way that leaves you unable to speak to your fellow peers.

You wonder if they’ve learned their cruelty from each other. But this time, he’s sweet.

It’s the hallucinogen fogging his brain. It makes him like a teenager in love. Open-mouthed, pawing love handles. You’re wearing Satoru’s t-shirt, something monochromatic and stupidly expensive, and Suguru tears it off of you as his mouth waters.

Coughing, Satoru tilts his head, supports it with elbows on the carpet. His temperament is neutral, teasing even, but for some reason, looking at him makes you sober up to some degree of lucidity that’s sensitive to him. The part of you that wants to please him at all times.

You crawl to him and say his name. It’s child-like. The shrooms make your eyes wide, colors innocence onto your face from the bliss. It reminds him of when you were younger—bruised knees and twigs in your hair from tumbling in the forest with him. Something tugs at his chest.

“You tryin’ to seduce me?” Satoru jeers, tongue licking his teeth. His palm on your face is hot.

You smile and nod. His gaze lowers and he snaps the waistband of your sweats against your hip. Hand on your thigh again, taunting your synapses. You think he’ll take you with his usual ferocity, but he steals your breath with a kiss instead.

The kiss never ends. Maybe they switch in between, but you don’t notice. Your eyes are shut, tight enough to see phosphenes like a galaxy. Blue and purple bleeding into your irises. You feel them pulling you apart, cock filling you up, hands everywhere.

“Fuck,” someone gasps. Something like groveling, desperate hair pulling.

“Inside,” you beg. “Please.”

Satoru watches, mesmerized. The heat of your body, sweat pooling into the divot above your clavicle—it all makes his mouth water, but he stays still on the couch as Suguru pins you to the floor. It’s the most the Six Eyes has felt in months, for some reason, and he hadn’t even taken anything. He half-wishes he could get his hands on something other than you to inject into his veins—maybe then he could learn to be calm or fall asleep at regular times. Anything to stop the odd ache in his chest whenever he looked at you.

He’s never been a man of God. He was God himself. And then he sees you moan out, bliss-wrecked and flooded with light, burning like seraphim. He’d come back to life a thousand times just to see your face. It made him sick.

Satoru kisses you before you knock out on his bed, eyes half-open and dazed. You’re refusing to go to bed, citing euphoria for your desire to run a few laps. Meanwhile, Suguru is asleep on the couch, fucked out and satisfied.

You’re coaxed into sleep. It’s not hard once you start rambling, shut up only by the feeling of Satoru’s fingers running across your scalp. He lays awake like he often does, talking to the moon. He sighs as you nuzzle into him, your whole body curling towards him to ward off goosebumps. You’re nearly bare considering you didn’t bother to put on clothes after you and Suguru had finished.

Satoru pulls the blanket over you, sighing. He’d had the leftover beers in the mini-fridge just to feel a buzz, even the taste of German ales made his nose wrinkle. It still wasn’t enough to put his mind at ease. He stares at the stained carpet, then Suguru’s sleeping shadow, then your face. He shuts his eyes.

It’s been months, yet the memories still cage you. It’s like something wraps its hand around your throat in your subconscious. In each dream, you are aching for their return, and they come to you like newly-bloomed flowers.

It feels like you’ve been waiting for them for centuries, your body stuck in the grass with a bruise over your left eye that doesn’t stop aching. You don’t even know how much you’re bleeding until they return to you again, caressing your sides and pulling away at the sight of a wound.

Your angels are not dead. It’s enough relief for you to keep going, but they still look at you with furrowed brows. Blood spills from your mouth.

“I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.”

Despite the pain, the vision is familiar. You’re too distracted by their beauty, how their mere presence is arcadian in itself. You don’t need anything else. You could die here.

Here, between them and their celestial bodies, in the green, green grass. Spider lilies bloom around you like kisses in blessing as the golden evening swallows you up. There’s a sinking feeling—a literal one, of you descending into the ground in a way that feels like a loose feather falling.

Your angels reach for you until they grasp the whole of you and turn you inside out. They pull apart the mess of you, reshaping you, undoing tangles and knots and bending the stem of your being so you can be reborn in their image. They love you enough to do so.

And when you look back at them with love in your eyes, you flinch. They’re eclipsed by something terrible, too far away for you to reach. It’s bloody. It has a voice like skin scraping pavement, full-bodied whiskey.

You stretch your hand out only meet a sweaty palm. When you open your eyes, a pair of blue ones stare back at you.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #geto suguru x you #geto x you

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iceandpeaches · 3 months

Text

mad at the gods; luke castellan

pairings: luke castellan x fem!reader (implied demeter kid)

warnings: fighting, betrayal, possible angst?, not proofread

summary: what if y/n had betrayed camp instead of luke...

a/n: short blurb because assignments have been keeping me busy lately.. i have so many drafts sitting in my docs

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

percy had just gotten back from his olympus, and the entirety of camp was cheering and clapping for him. he had just ended war, even you were happy for it. luke was stood beside you, overjoyed that he could finally spend some time with his girlfriend after the few hectic days he had keeping camp together.

soon, the evening was met with celebration and fireworks. you hated loud noise, so you and luke decided to reside in the inner parts of the forest.

“what a celebration.”

“yeah i mean, percy stopped the war. of course there would be celebration.”

your hands shoved in the pockets of your cargo pants, fiddling with an object that you had put in it previously. your heart was racing. luke glanced up at you, brows furrowed as he wrapped his arms around you.

“what’s wrong flower?”

your stomach drops, hand pressed against his chest; gently pushing him away. you nibble at your bottom lip, tears starting to form in your eyes. you reached into your pocket, slowly pulling out a sword larger than your usual dagger. luke simply watched, the sword causing him to back away.

“is that…?”

the sword was the length of your lower body, shining dark in your hands.

“backbiter.”

you mumble, your chest rising and falling as you gripped the sword. even in the dark, you could see the concern in luke’s expression. backbiter wasn’t something you could just pull out, especially if it belonged to a god. luke reached in his own pocket, grabbing his own weapon.

“i… i don’t want to fight, luke.”

“then.. why did you do it?”

“i never meant to betray you, amore. i… i was mad at the gods. i’m sick and tired of trying to get my mother’s approval. i thought you of all people, would understand.”

luke’s mind flashed to all the times the two’s late night talks about the gods and how they wished they didn’t carry the responsibilities that came with them. you thought you’d be able to recruit luke, since you thought you two were on the same page, but apparently not.

“what would your mother say?”

luke raised his sword pointing it at you, your grip tightening around backbiter. your lips quivered, unwilling to strike your weapon at your lover; but you had to do what you needed to do. you raised your sword, swinging at him. luke didn’t know whether to go easy on you, desperately trying to not hurt you at all. strands of your dark hair falling in your face as you fought hard, inhaling sharply when you felt a cut to your side. you drop your sword, grasping at your side.

“flower i… i..”

you kneeled to pick up your sword, aimlessly slicing wherever on luke; sliced his calf. during the fight, you had already crossed the pillar twice; getting up still gripping your side and carving the last line to fully open the pillar. you turn to luke, his eyes glossy. in this moment, he desperately wanted you by his side to comfort him. you pointed the sword at him, hand shaking.

“i’m sorry, luke. i... i love you.”

you ran through the portal, it closing behind you. luke was left in the dark, arm reached out toward the portal wishing you’d come back. he finally let himself go, only able to yell. tears streamed down his face, still in denial that you were now gone.

“flower.. oh flower..”

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x angst #peach's fics

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

Note

Monster trio reacting to their dicks not being able to fit- ooh Chile 🥲

🙃😀

Monster Trio Reacting to You Being Too Tight (NSFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Safe Word Used, Mentions of Sex, Zoro is an Implied Virgin

Luffy

This is Luffy we are talking about he wouldn’t tell the difference unless you screamed it at him

And that you did.

“LUFFY BABY WAIT! RED! RED!”

His tip wasn’t even in completely in and it felt like he was stretching you for all you were worth.

“What?! What?!”

“You’re…You’re….”

“What you want me to stretch it?”

“NO! …the opposite actually.”

This was the first time you ever had to ask him of that and so a very smug and dopey smile crawled across his face while still being in between your legs.

“Ah…i’m too big for you today?” He sings right in your ear with a chuckle.

“Shut up Luffy are you ganna do it or n—-AH!”

He shrinks it just enough to where the painful stretch is gone, but now he has more leeway to pick up the pace in his thrusting.

“Like this!?” Luffy huffs, hands gripped the headboard, hips nearly turning into a blur pounding your cunt. “There you go !”

He did all this without pulling out once.

He’s so caring.

Zoro

You and Zoro didn’t think this would have been something you both would encounter. Nearly crying for him to stop and he was only 1/3 inside you.

Granted this is his first time.

He’s a big boy and so when you first seen his…4th sword you guided him on how to prep you nicely, stretch you out with his fingers, and everything. Zoro being an internal nervous wreck wanted to be extra cautious so the foreplay lastest well over an hour with him.

But even in that hour still couldn’t prepare him or you for how tight you were

“F-fuck! You’re so—! …Hey?”

You kept covering your face with your hands literally gnawing at your lip nearly making it bleed trying to ignore the sting and pain. Maybe it wasn’t a good day to have sex with him for the first time, because you just couldn’t understand why everything felt so painful right now.

“You should have told me, woman I never wanna keep going if this hurts!”

The last thing Zoro would ever want is to hurt you. He couldn’t care less about him needing to get off if you also wasn’t enjoying yourself.

You felt so much guilt when he slowly pulled out that you tried to insist to keep going, but he wouldn’t back down.

He ignored your cries and pouts to place a blanket over you both and cuddle as you were on top of his chest.

“Stop it dammit.” He hisses at you trying to sleep, feeling your body grind on his soft cock. You swore you could take it again, which started to annoy him because he didn’t mind not finishing.

“Can i at least….suck it…again as an apology.”

You’re so lucky he was hoping you’d offer that.

Sanji

Sanji became a quick learner of your body. He knows what to do to make your leg twitch, your back arch, even down to how you moan.

He never did any wrong when it came to giving you the upmost pleasure.

Today must have been an off day for him and you both because after 30 minutes of foreplay he felt like you were stretched out enough, but he was so so wrong.

“Sweet—ah-heart you okay? You’re tighter than usual.”

You wanted so badly to be a good girl and take it, so you nodd trying to refocus you attention on something else other than the sting, but the moment he bottoms out you practically scream in his ear.

You scared the man btw.

“OH FUCK! Y/N!? ARE YOU OKAY?!”

You felt so awkward letting out such a dramatic cry, but it just inflicted so much pain you almost shed a tear.

And you did actually.

Sanji was too afraid to move, still fully inside you he looks at your face to caress and pepper your face in soft kisses.

Sanji damn near cries too because the last thing he would ever want is for you to feel uncomfortable. You explain that you must have been a bit more tense than usual and Sanji being Sanji understands and talks you through it as he slowly pulls himself out.

“Here…Let me make it up to you.”

You wanted to try to explain to him it’s okay and yall can try again but it was too late.

Sanji’s tongue was already in between your slit before you could protest.

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tcfactory · 3 months

Text

Good morning, I bring you another very nonsense SVSSS idea today.

Shen Yuan transmigrates as Shen Jiu's shizun. He has a System, but it really doesn't interfere with anything because what would it even do when Luo Binghe's parents haven't even met yet? Su Xiyan hasn't even been born yet.

So Shen Yuan has several really cool centuries to be the immortal master he really wants to be! Since nothing he has done affects the plot, he spends a lot of that time ignoring his disciples (he figures out in the first few decades that teaching is primarily the job of the hallmasters) and focusing on sightseeing and learning all about the flora and fauna of his least favorite webnovel world. He's considered a fine person, kind when he remembers to be present in the moment, but usually detached from worldly matters, which is not a bad thing for an immortal master pushing his fifteenth century to be, but it's to his detriment in some ways: he is both noble-born and beyond mortal weakness. Some of his modern sensibilities have definitely faded after such a long life in this world and by spending much of that time in the company of his nearly indestructible martial siblings. He's a master who does not wield the whip himself, but orders punishment with the ignorance of someone who has forgotten that to people who don't have more than a thousand years of cultivation, the whip does far more than 'sting a little'.

He still tries to speak up about that whole matter with the boy and the sword and the cave. He knows a plant that could help the boy without all this breaking-every-bone nonsense, but that's the first time his System intervenes and stops him. He assumes the kid would have been someone who could have opposed Luo Binghe eventually so he's fated to die instead and lets the matter go. If anything, he's more excited that the System finally made a move, because that means they are nearing the time when Luo Binghe will appear! He doesn't follow the incident and he's daydreaming about a rare beast he discovered on his latest trip when his shixiong announces the appointment of his succeeding disciple, so he completely misses that Yue Qingyuan survived the cave.

During the fated Immortal Alliance Conference he's too busy checking on his own disciples to be of any help in resolving the incident with Shen Jiu, so the sect leader (who is getting really tired of how unreliable his 'sect strategist' is) dumps the semi-feral orphan on his peak as punishment. Shidi likes wild creatures, right? Here's a wild creature for you, have fun making a man out of him.

Shen Yuan doesn't make the connection between Shen Jiu, prickly street kid, and Shen Qingqiu, peerless immortal with a rotten personality, because he falls into the group of readers who assumed Shen Qingqiu was a noble young master. Shen is a pretty common name, after all. He gives the kid some remedial lessons - in reading, writing, etiquette, the arts, etc. - gives him some encouraging words and then leaves the kid to his own devices once it's clear that he doesn't need coddling. He's a tough cookie who can handle himself and besides, the good-natured head disciple from Qiong Ding keeps coming over to check on him, so he already has other support! His shizun hovering over him and favoring him too much would just make him a target and this kid has gone too through much already for him to do that to him.

They hear the first rumors about Tianlang-jun around the time when his shixiong finally starts to bully him about picking a new head disciple, so Shen Yuan makes a timeline in his head: if Tianlang-jun is really doing the part of sightseeing young master in the human world (which Shen Yuan has personally confirmed) then it should take him a few decades to grow bored of it all, sour on the experience and then go and do the attempted world-conquering he gets mountained for. So he should have at least fifty more years before he has to worry about that nonsense, right?

There's still no sign of young master Shen on his peak (goddamn master Airplane, was Shen Qingqiu really so young during PIDW?! A cultivator under a hundred should not be given a position of authority like that, they are barely an adult! The other future peak lords keep popping up around the sect already, so no wonder he was so paranoid of his position, being decades younger than everyone!!) so he promotes his no-longer-openly-feral Shen Jiu as head disciple in the meantime, because that kid is an overachiever like no other and by far the most competent of his disciples.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he is prompted to give Shen Jiu a courtesy name as his succeeding disciple (how did this happen?! This much-abused feral cat is not the one who should be here, System!!).

And the System finally gives him an order he can't refuse: Shen Jiu is to be named Shen Qingqiu. It all starts to break apart at that moment, his leisure and detachment coming back to bite him where it hurts the most.

Shen Yuan announces the name and watches as his head disciple's eyes flash with hurt and betrayal before his mask slots back in place (he never bothered to investigate deeper into Shen Jiu's past than what the boy shared willingly, but now he goes digging. He traces Wu Yanzi's tracks, interviewing ghosts along the way until he reaches the ruins of the Qiu residence and learns of the horrors that went down there. Please forgive your master, A-Jiu! He did not mean to saddle you with the name of your abusers!).

He tries, in those last few, desperate years to be better for the future scum villain, but it feels like it's too late already (the immortal master came back to earth from his unreachable cloud, but it's too little too late). Shen Qingqiu doesn't trust him, he doesn't trust anyone except himself (Shen Yuan is the greatest expert of beasts in the world and he can see the marks of a cornered, crippled tiger in every move Shen Qingqiu makes. His head disciple is angry and terrified and it's his fault that he never helped to make it better.) his relationship with his martial siblings is horrible and he has learned all the wrong lessons from his time on the mountain (because Shen Yuan, spoiled and absent, failed to teach him better).

Shen Yuan watches helplessly as things spiral out of his control (he knows Tianlang-jun couldn't possibly have wanted to conquer anything yet, but his System shuts him up when he wants to speak. He's the one who creates the array, he's the one who puts the final nail in the coffin of a man and his beloved, all for the crime of loving the wrong person). His shixiong gets severely wounded in the fight and they arrange a very hasty ascension before he could perish from his injuries.

He hopes that ascension would make things easier to bear. He has waited for so long, planned to lean back and enjoy PIDW from a front row seat after a life spent playing his part to perfection.

It's so much worse than he could have ever imagined. The System plays one last joke on him and appoints him god of secrets, so he gets to see everything that goes on in the sect. He's already familiar with Luo Binghe's PoV from PIDW, but now he gets to see Yue Qingyuan (clutching his sword and drinking down potions to dull the pain of his ruined body with every meal, screaming himself hoarse for Shen Jiu every night in his nightmares) and Shang Qinghua (walking the high wire of terror and overwork, System window hovering over him with threats of death if he so much as twitches wrong) and Shen Qingqiu, always Shen Qingqiu who keeps spiraling into bitter cruelty with every mocking word he pretends to ignore, every impassable bottleneck and almost-fatal qi-deviation.

When Shen Qingqiu almost succumbs to one of his deviations that leaves him unconscious with a high fever for days he finally breaks and begs the System to let him do something. Shen Qingqiu has grown up to be exactly the kind of scum he was in the story, but for all that he wants to smack him every time he does something shitty, Shen Yuan has grown to care for his horrible, almost-feral tiger of a disciple. He doesn't want him to live the fate of the scum villain, but as a god he's not allowed to act. He will do anything, System! Anything!!!

The next thing he knows, he wakes up as Shen Qingqiu. It's his chance to change fate for the better, but if Shen Yuan is in the body, then where is Shen Jiu??? His soul is in storage and the System will magnanimously allow him to buy him back to life and give him a second chance for all the B-points he amassed over his long life. It's a choice between getting Shen Jiu back or keeping the points as an emergency save that would allow him to return to his previous role if things go wrong.

It's hardly a difficult choice, isn't it?

#svsss #shen yuan #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #tc writes

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mutualdemise · 6 months

Note

I'm down bad for a Jingliu yandere, who is using force/violence to make you stay

Future Proof [Yandere! Jingliu x GN! Reader]

Content warning: mentions of blood and violence

"If you want to entertain me so badly, pick this up and use the sharp end to finish him off."

In the midst of a cruel yet swift confrontation, she tossed you the man's blade, the one he had used to defend himself against her. You swallowed dryly, the clanging of metal against stone piercing through the wind's hollow tune. He lay there quietly, your shadow casting over him like a cold blanket. His eyes shifted to yours, his face skewed in horror, silently staring at you like cattle to a farmer.

It was comparable to an insect that was too slow—the man stopping in his tracks just as he saw you, asking if you were one of the missing persons. It was funny at the moment of his interaction, but Jingliu did not take kindly to humour. She lingered behind you, the strings of your confinement being her gaze. When he noticed her and reached for his sword, she swiftly struck him.

Like an insect, he couldn't even struggle. His sword was hastily tossed away, and his body was doused in his own blood. Who knew so much blood could come out of one person?

"You can end his life, ceasing the suffering instantly. Or you leave. There's a possibility he'll survive, but if that happens," She looks at you, staring straight into your eyes despite her blindfold. You could feel her crimson gaze burning through you, scathing and burning red hot.

"Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to start your lessons early. Count this as your first." Her voice drags on like silk weaving through your ears, and you're stuck rigidly staring at the sword tossed carelessly by your feet. You weren't going to kill the stranger who merely made a mistake by humouring Jingliu's attempts to teach you, but could you let him suffer with such little chance of survival in the first place? Jingliu liked to poke at you through situations like these: a scientist testing different methods. Her mind games were an abrasive attempt to get you to stay with her; out of your own will, sharpened to her liking.

"And if I don't do either?" You drawl, your arms limp by your sides. She liked it when you challenged her, knowing it would cost you her grace of mercy later on. Your legs ached, and your body tired from how hard she liked to push you to your limits.

"Then you'd stay here, watching the light leave this man's eyes." She spoke with an eloquent vigour, always saying 'you' instead of 'we' as if her body were long gone, a ghost of a monster haunting your shadow. You mourned your shadow, tainted by this fate, so tired of bearing to have to push past each day. It felt so slow, and yet when you look back, only a handful of days have passed. You contemplated escaping or even submitting to her will, but you felt if you were going to submerge yourself in this fate, you would get a say in how it would happen.

"If you're going to teach me, wouldn't it be easier to get me to do it myself?" You prodded, staring at your own reflection in the stranger's sword. Both were trapped and helpless, unless you removed yourself completely. Maybe saving this person would at least give you the satisfaction of defying Jingliu's games, and that would be through another game you imposed.

"Did you want to fight him?" Jingliu lightly taunted, her voice always a hollow monotone, but gradually you picked up on the slightest inflections in her responses, recognising her way of displaying emotion.

"Perhaps if he survived, then he would live to remember this encounter and train harder." You implied lightly, as Jingliu showed interest as she advanced towards you.

“And if you lose to him?" She hovered around you, an invisible forcefield restraining you from being touched. Jingliu might have slaughtered countless beings, but she drew the line at touching you without coming to her out of your own volition. She was a patient wolf, feeding a lamb for a bigger meal.

"I'll let you do anything to me, as long as it feels good."

#jingliu #yandere hsr #hsr #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #requests open #yandere hsr x reader #hsr jingliu #jingliu x reader #yandere jingliu #yandere requests #female yandere #gender neutral reader #gn reader #yandere x gn reader

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simplepotatofarmer · 2 months

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seeing red

a very short (1,036 words) c!rivals duo fic based on the @sixteenth-day-event's prompt 'protective violence'.

The nether was a dangerous place.

Where in the overworld daytime gave some reprieve from the monsters, the nether didn’t have the same grace period and that meant even experienced players had to be careful. It meant that Techno always made sure he had a couple potions, healing and speed, and a spare gold helmet on him, just in case something happened, because something always happened.

The current something was the fact he had lost sight of his travelling companion.

Dream could take care of himself, sure, but Techno didn’t like it. He didn’t like that he had gotten so distracted that he had either lagged behind or left Dream behind. A hint of panic was rising in his chest, the drone of the voices in his head growing a tiny bit louder.

Yelling out wasn’t the best idea. They couldn’t have gone too far from the haphazardly constructed nether highway and Techno didn’t want to risk getting caught out here, without an ally. Not after what had happened, the execution that had only failed because the totem had reversed his death.

Techno frowned, took a deep sniff of the air, looked at the slightly spongy netherrack, and picked a direction to head in.

The bastion was a surprise.

The small gap, hidden by a blackstone half-slab, was an even bigger surprise. Dream cursed as he fell through it, hitting his arm, hard, on the way down. His ankle had twisted awkwardly when he hit the ground and his other leg had folded under him, pain radiating from his knee. The injuries weren’t much of a concern – he had plenty of healing potions and supplies on him – but what was a concern were the piglins that had been alerted to his presence by the fall and the fact the ill-fitting gold helmet had fallen off and rolled away, still spinning to a stop.

“Fuck—Ah, shit!”

Dream barely got his shield up in time to block the arrow, barely managed to lift his axe to parry a blow from a brute that had charged him.

He was still on the ground.

He was still on the ground the brute was huge compared to him and if Dream could just get one a healing potion out, get to his feet, then he would be fine—

But another brute had approached from the side and using his shield to defend himself left him open to the piglin’s crossbow attack.

I’m dead, thought Dream as the arrow sunk into his side, finding the gap in his armor by sheer luck.

Gritting his teeth, he jerked the arrow out and rolled to the left. There was a drop, shorter than the one he had fallen down in the first place, and it hurt when he landed on the blackstone but it would give him a moment.

Out of nowhere, an irrational thought crossed his mind: if I kill piglins, is Techno going to be pissed at me?

Anything he did here would be self-defence and Techno was the sort who would understand that but for some reason Dream couldn’t shake the thought. It was irrational and it made him slow and he barely got half of the healing potion downed before he ran out of time.

The glass bottle smashed to floor and Dream raised his axe, back to the wall, as the piglin brutes came at him.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Techno saw the bastion and knew something was wrong even before he heard the sound of fighting. A bastion could be one of the more dangerous places; the crumbling blackstone created a maze that was hard to navigate and almost all of the inhabitants wouldn’t be happy to see a stranger. He drew his sword as he hurried forward and hopped up on one of the walls, looking down into the bastion.

He found what he was looking for immediately. He smelled the blood in the a second later.

A swarm of brutes had backed Dream into a corner.

If he lowered his defense a little, just enough to try to pearl out or take a potion, he would have been overwhelmed. He couldn’t even attempt to block the arrows being sent his direction from a piglin on an upper level.

The voices were like his heart pounding wildly in his ears. Techno saw the man who had saved his life and Carl’s life struggling, fighting for his own life, and saw red.

Without thinking, Techno downed a speed potion and crossed the bastion’s wall, hopping across the gaps, until he was on the level above Dream. He bodychecked the piglin, kicking their crossbow off the platform and into the lava below. Then he jumped down, sword over his head.

The first blow hit one of the brutes across the chest and they stumbled back with a startled noise. Techno might have felt bad but Dream was bleeding, his mask had come loose, and even under the armor it was clear his chest was rising and falling rapidly. Techno had never seen him like this and the only clear emotion he felt in this moment was worry and anger.

Bringing his sword up, he caught the next brute in their shoulder, rendering their arm and axe useless. There was a squeal of fear that Techno met with a roar of anger and it took three more swings of his sword before the remaining brutes turned and fled in fear.

Techno turned to Dream.

“You alright, man?”

Dream nodded.

“I’m—I’m fine,” he lied, loosing his balance and pitching sideways the moment he spoke.

Techno caught him, steadied him, and then carefully pulled his mask back into place.

“Yeah, you’re definitely fine,” said Techno with a crooked grin. His heart was still pounding but the voices had quieted. He pulled out his spare gold helmet and placed it on Dream’s head. It was big; it fell forward and covered part of Dream’s mask. Techno resisted the urge to laugh, resisted the odd urge to hug Dream, and instead took him by the hand to guide him, to keep him from stumbling. “C’mon, let’s get the heck out of here.”

“Yeah…” A beat and then, leaning into Techno’s shoulder, Dream said, “Thanks.”

“Anytime, Dream.”

#technoblade #dreamwastaken #dsmp fanfic #dream smp #rivals duo #rivalsblr #sixteenthdayevent

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baratiddyappreciator · 2 months

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Pegging the Baki Cast

If you thought I could write well when it came to the reader getting pounded on their period, then you've clearly never heard me talk about pegging men before. NSFW, minors DNI. Both HCs and short stories, you're all welcome ;)

"Baby, can I peg you?"

Baki:

He agrees before he even process what you asked him, but once he realizes what you asked, he doesn't take it back. He's no coward, and you'd seemed so excited when you'd asked, he couldn't possibly take that agreement back.

Of course, he doesn't have anything needed for pegging at home, so you'll both have to pick something out. Don't let him just pick anything though, he doesn't know what he's able to take just yet and will 100% overestimate his abilities.

CLEARLY he can take that massive 12" toy with a blunt head meant for someone with a bit more experience. Never done anal a single day in his life, but he wants that one.

He has no idea what he's doing. He'll take a shower, come out all sexy like "time to fuck my ass baby" but he's done like zero prep beyond being clean and horny. You're going to have to walk him through the process as you're doing it, because he's going to ask you a billion questions.

When you actually get into it though, there are no words, he's just laying there with this wide-eyed, almost dazed look on his face. He's fine, he'd tell you if he wasn't, he's just getting used to the feeling.

Vocal, wiggly and will definitely have a new appreciation for what you go through when he's on top. Would he do it again? Maybe on special occasions, and he's normally the one to ask. Long forgotten are the dreams of big toys though, he's found out he likes the smaller stuff.

Whining usually got Baki what he wanted, and in his mind, it wouldn't be any different here. But the issue was that he wasn't in charge here. No, as a matter of fact, he was the one submitting as your hips slanted against his, relentless and bringing pleasure, but not enough pleasure. He whined and groaned, desperate for some more friction, but every time he started reaching for his leaking cock, your hips would draw almost all the way back and stop, just barely leaving the tip of the strap inside of him, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing that pleasure, nails biting into your hips to ground him. There would be bruises after this was done, but there was no use in complaining about it, not when such beautiful sounds escaped his lips. Your hips ground deep against his, and his eyes rolled back, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips, a shiver running up his spine as his legs squeezed around your hips, holding you in closer.

Silent pleas for more met your ears in a beautiful display of his voice going as light and soft as possible, breathy as he focused on the feelings racing throuhg his body. You could be rougher with him, you could grab him by his thick throat and choke, but that wasn't what was being done this time. This time it was just an introduction, a gentle introduction, not that he seemed to get that at this point. There was a small thought at the back of your mind, a hint of worry that he might just crush your hips or your spine with how hard he was flexing his legs or how hard he was jolting, but there was more trust than fear. Your hands braced on the wide expanses of his chest as you ground deep into him, lips pressing against his own and he moaned, soft, light and airy as his arms wrapped around your shoulders in a shaking hug.

His pupils blown wide, lips parted, kiss swollen and and wet. He was almost completely gone from the pleasure, that was clear as day, but the second your eyes met he got lost in them, seeing so much in them. He could have sword he was seeing the very universe in your eyes, but the stars invaded the rest of his vision and he realized that he was cumming a moment later, gasping and moaning as he held you close. "Oh god baby please don't stop, just like that please-!" he choked as he bucked his hips against yours, desperately seeking to milk his own orgasm for as long as he could, chasing the feeling of your strap so deep inside of him that he was pretty sure it would leave an indent in his guts. If this was how it felt for you when he was on top, then maybe he'd give that to you when he could feel his toes again.

Kozue:

Oh fuck yes. She can see that look in your eyes, and she knows that you'd wreck her shit. She's all for it, especially if you two have the place to yourselves, because then she can be all over you.

She's got a few toys of her own, but she'd definitely be interested in getting a harness for herself, or maybe even a double-ended dildo so you can both peg each-other at the same time. Granted, this is one of the few chances you'll likely get to see her stash though.

She'll absolutely pull up an online sex toy shop and have you pick out one that you both like. Don't think she isn't also getting a strap now that you've brought it up.

Not that hard, she's got an entire self-lubricating system meant to take stuff in. This being said, she definitely has a secret bottle of lube ready just in case, and she's definitely giving herself some foreplay, not that she'll need much considering how excited she is.

She's competent and the second least likely to just go dumb when she's bottoming for you because she's done that before. She'll tell you exactly what she wants and when she wants it. Harder? Now. Deeper? NOW. She's going to tell you.

Confident and in charge despite being on the bottom, she knows what she likes and she knows how to get it, there's very little experimenting that needs to be done beyond what you both want to try. Would she do it again? Of course! Maybe she'll even switch with you!

She was so, so very different to what you were used to. Her hands braced on your shoulders, her hips practically slamming down on yours, her head thrown back as she moaned, not worried in the slightest about the volume, her slick smearing on your hips as she rode you, and she was riding you hard. The soft, slick noise of her cunt around the strap one of the few noises you could hear right now, her hips rocking against yours hard, grinding down, lifting, slamming down, grinding, lifting, her nails digging hard into your shoulders with each downwards stroke. Each time you tried to move to flip her over, her hips slammed down against yours and she forced your back down against the bed with a groan. She knew what she wanted, and right now what she wanted was to ride you like her life was depending on it.

Her hips slowed for only a moment, her hips rolling against yours as she leaned down to kiss you, biting your bottom lip and rolling it between her teeth, a hungry growl escaping her as she stared into your eyes before pressing herself flat against your chest, legs squeezing your hips as she pulled you along, rolling the both of you over. This was your turn now, your turn to be on top, your turn to give pleasure, and she was encouraging you to do what you wanted. That didn't mean she just sat there passively however, oh no, passive wasn't in her vocabulary, not during sex. Her nails bit into your back, her chest pressing up against yours, legs looped around your hips to pull you in closer.

Her arms were deceptively strong as she pulled you in for a crushing hug, shivering slightly as her orgasm drew nearer and nearer. It was a form of praise in itself that she clung to you so hard as she neared her climax, her moans for you and only you to hear, impressions of her pleasure left in your skin via hickeys, scratches and faint bite marks that had really only been slight indents, done in a state of euphoria and slight overstimulation. "Oh god- If you stop right now I'm going to kill you I swear!" She gasped, arching against you again, nails dragging down your forearms, before her head was thrown back against the pillows, a dramatic moan escaping her, but it was indication enough that she was right on the cusp of cumming. If you were wet before, you were absolutely drenched now. Given the chance, you could absolutely sense that she was going to obliterate you when it was her turn to wear the strap.

Hanayama:

Dead stare, plain eye contact, he's going to stare at you until you ask again, and then he'll zone back in. One of the few times you'll ever see him blush. He goes bright red, from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest. He's not going to answer for a hot minute though.

He doesn't have anything, and he didn't ever think he'd need anything. He's got no idea about any of this and he's completely lost. Never even crossed his mind that you'd want to peg him. Honestly he's too flustered to tell you what he wants, so he'll just let you pick something out.

Despite how big and tough he is, he knows that he's a beginner, so he'll ask for something smaller and softer than you might think, but he's aware that there's no shame in that.

You're going to have to walk him through the steps of prep, because while he knows about foreplay, he just doesn't compute that he also needs foreplay. If you make him do it himself then he'll be prepped enough to immediately take you, but he'd prefer to be thoroughly prepped with your help for the experience.

Yeah he's not capable of using words right now, but he'll make it very clear if he needs to stop. He'd probably prefer being face down for this so you won't see how red he gets (you'll still see it, the entire back of his neck and his shoulders are bright red), so he's definitely established that if he taps out then he's tapping out.

Whiny and jumpy. Anything new gets a whine and a jolt, lots of lube will be needed and a lot of reassurance. Rubbing circles into his lower back will help. Yes he's still tough, and please tell him that. Also if you ever breathe a word of this to his boys he'll break up with you on the spot. Would he do it again? Not likely, but he might occasionally be convinced.

It was incredibly unusual for you to be in this position. Normally it would be him behind you, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips and rubbing circles against your lower back waiting for you to loosen up and relax enough for him to take you. But now you took up that role, rubbing circles into his lower back and kissing between his shoulders as you bent over him, a grunt escaping him as the strap sank in slightly further. You'd been at this for a while now, just trying to get him to relax so you could show him how good this felt, but Hanayama wasn't one to relax so easily in such a vulnerable position. If one of his men walked in to find him like this he'd never be respected in the organization again, he could hurt you, you could hurt yourself, this was a bad idea-

His thoughts fled from his brain as you growled in frustration and grabbed him by his throat, pulling his head back so you could press a harsh kiss to his lips from behind him, your hips pressing forward in a firm motion that had his entire body jolting, an uncharacteristically pathetic noise escaping his lips as you bottomed out the strap, feeling the heat of his skin under your fingers as he fought to pull his head back and push it into the pillows again, but you saw the blush turning his cheeks a cherry red, saw the sweat beading at his brow, felt his shivering, heard his soft whines, felt him trying to subtly grind against the sheets beneath him. For such a big strong man, he sure was easy to get close to the edge, especially if you weren't gentle with him like he'd expected you to be. His face was shoved into the pillows once more as your hips rolled against his, pushing deep as your hips rocked against his.

A long, deep whine escaping him, heat radiating off of his shoulders and back as you held him in place, hips rolling so slowly and lightly against his you were shocked that he wasn't more determined to get you actually thrusting instead of grinding, but he seemed perfectly content to let you grind into him and hold him down like he was little more than a plaything. "Fuck- Baby please keep going, 'm gonna cum-!" He hiccoughed in a weak, wavering voice that you'd never heard form him before. This was an entirely new side of him, and honestly, you were starting to like the shy, tiny side of him that desperately clawed at the blankets and pillows, hips grinding against yours, seemingly confused between wanting to grind against you or against the bed. Simply reaching around to grab his shaft seemed to tip him over the edge, a loud wail escaping his lips as he spilled over your fingers. This was certainly going to be interesting.

Chiharu:

He's down! Matter of fact, if you two ever wind up talking about pegging he'll most likely approach you and ask you to peg him at least once for the experience. He's not ashamed of it, he thinks it's a really intimate thing to do.

He doesn't actually have anything and unless you tell him not to, he's going to just suggest using one of your personal toys. He doesn't know that it's not safe to use an anal toy for vaginal, and vice versa, especially if it's been used in the past. You're going to have to help him pick something out for himself.

Much like Baki, he insists on a larger toy because he can totally take it. And he probably could, don't get me wrong, baby boy is tough, but for a starter? Larger, sure, but not the size of his forearm, which is definitely what he'll try and pick.

Once he agrees, he'll do some of his own research. He does a sloppy job on his own, but it's good enough. That being said, the only way to ensure that he's 100% ready and going to have a pain free experience is to just help him.

One of the few times you'll hear him shut up for once. He's not making any noises, he's just letting you do your thing to start out. Once you're in and he's done adjusting to the toy though it's free game. He's going to make noises. Very loud ones.

Needy as all hell and loud. Swears at least twice as much because those are really the only words he's capable of right now. He'll apologize for it later if you bring it up, but in the moment he's not thinking about anything other than how good he feels and how pretty you look fucking his brains out. Would he do it again? Absolutely! Anything for his baby, and he doesn't mind being freaky.

Chiharu liked to put shows on for you, he'd made that clear over the course of the time you two had been involved, but this was another one entirely. His hands were braced on the headboard behind your head as his hips rolled against your own, grinding down hard against your hips, sweat giving his skin a soft sheen, his hair was messy and sticking to his forehead, his head thrown back in ecstasy as his cock left a drooling trail of precum all over your stomach, your hands resting on his hips as he moved. If you could have the sight before you painted and framed on your wall, you'd need a bigger wall because he deserved to be the biggest, most impressive piece in your home, displayed in the most immaculate lighting, but only for your eyes. No, nobody else deserved to see the gangster like this, whining and moaning as he bounced on your strap.

He was good, fucking himself the way he found he liked, and you were there, allowed to watch, participate. You were sure that if you had an actual cock it would be so hard it would cause him pain, and that his insides would be whiter than freshly fallen snow. Reaching up, your hands followed the curve of his spine as he desperately rode you, groaning, lost in his own pleasure to meet the back of his neck, his hair slicked to the nape. Your teased the blonde strands lightly before your fingers tangled in his hair and sharply pulled his head back as you sat up, sinking your teeth into the meat of his neck. He let out a borderline feral yowl, jolting against you as you marked his throat, his hips not ceasing their desperate movement against yours. He was too close to stop now, and you were sure that if you made him stop he'd actually start crying.

Granted, he would cry anyways, you could tell. From the moment you two first hooked up you realized that if he came hard enough, he would cry, simple as that. He'd get so overwhelmed by the pleasure that he'd outright sob as a way to sing your praises, and you were almost dead certain that this was going to be what proved you right. His head pulled back, back forced to arch as his chest was bared for you to bite and kiss and suck hickeys into, his hips desperately rocking against yours, his cock trapped between the both of you, still steadily leaking. "Gahh- Baby- Sugar, please, please just touch me, I need you so bad you're so good to me, so good so good so good, please!" He whined, rolling his hips upwards against yours so he could grind against your stomach, a glassy look to his eyes. Oh yeah, he'd be cumming hard enough to cry, that was a guarantee.

Katsumi:

He accepts as cockily as possible. He's got a bubble butt, he knows it, and he's well aware that some people want him because of said bubble butt. That being said, he's never bottomed a day in his life before this, this is all just bravado for the sake of being macho.

He's got nothing. He doesn't know what to get, and instead of just being normal about it he'll go to the weirdest sex toy site possible and send you the most outlandish ones at the most inconvenient times like "hey bb can't wait for you to fuck my ass with this" and it's just a pinecone shaped dildo.

He does pick out some beginner friendly ones. In the end, he choses something simple and straightforward, just a regular anal toy will do for him because he doesn't need anything too textured. Not yet, at least.

He's done research about the toys, and with that has come research about proper prep. He'll surprise you on the agreed upon Ass Fucking Day, face down, ass up, lubed up and ready to go. He probably got himself a toy for prep, so it's not outside the realm of possibility that he'll have a heart-shaped plug in just to sell it.

He's whining, clawing at the sheets and trying to hold your hand, and that's just because you're kneeling behind him, ready to start. He's a drama queen, but he's just that excited for you. Of course, once you actually start going he's no better, but he trusts you not to hurt him.

He's vocal normally, but that's mostly just him trying to tell you how good you're making him feel without actually saying it. This is genuine. He's moaning like a porn star and shaking so hard you'd think he's got a vibrator for a spine. Would he do it again? Sure! It's something he'd likely really enjoy!

He rambled when he was nervous. He didn't know he had that habit, you were pretty sure that Doppo and Natsue had never told him, and you certainly hadn't either, but right now was definitely a moment when you were happy for his incessant rambling about things. It made it all the more satisfying when you started pushing into him and he simply stopped, mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into his head, his words dying on his tongue where they would hopefully stay until you were done with him. He'd promised you a night of total bliss under your control. Everything you wanted tonight, you could have, he'd sworn it up and down over and over again until he was red in the face. Mostly because of the topics that had come up, but still, it was the thought that counted.

But you hadn't really shut him up. Oh no. No no, you'd simply removed his ability to use words. His usual borderline pornographic dramatic moans were gone now, replaced with entirely genuine ones, desperate to show you how good he felt, trying to convince you to keep going, not that you needed convincing. Sinking into him over and over again with a soft clap, your nails biting into the fat of his hips leaving half-moon shaped indents in his skin, watching the recoil on his ass cheek as your hips met them, pulling him back down onto the strap after he was jostled forward. He was wiggling more than he normally did, but a hand on the back of his neck soon put an end to that, with him just laying there, accepting whatever you were going to do to him eagerly and without complaint, glancing back at you with pupils blown wide and an eager smile, breathless pants escaping his lips in warm puffs of air.

Soft groans poured from his lips, his eyelids fluttering. Long, thick lashes obscuring his dark brown eyes from your view, but you were more happy to watch the cock-drunk expression develop on his face, his eyes rolling with every sticky thrust into him, the generous amount of lube you'd used amplifying the noises the both of your bodies made, determined to stick to the both of you in sticky, thin strings that were formed only to break as you pulled back to push in again. He whined, grabbing wildly at his blankets and pillows, his leg snaring around your waist to pull you closer against him, even on his side he was still able to maneuver you to where he needed you. "Honey-yyy, please be nice, baby, you're so good at this shit... Where did you learn how to do this?" He asked, though your only response was a wry smile. You wouldn't tell him, you had to keep some of your secrets after all.

Jack:

He gets this dazed look on his face and winds up just wordlessly leaving to go on a walk. You'd think it's a refusal until he gets home and quietly comes to sit next to you to ask more about it. He's as red as a tomato the entire time.

He's got nothing, but he's fine trusting you to pick something up that you want to use on him. Once he's agreed, that's it, he can take it he's tough. It's just a matter of him getting over the mental blocks of being so submissive.

He can absolutely take a larger toy as a starter, but you treating him nicely and being sweet for his first time being pegged is more appreciated than he's able to convey. Just know he appreciates it.

He'll ask questions, do some research and figure stuff out. Him learning about anal training would absolutely be something beneficial, and it's a perfect excuse to hand him a plug and try some public edging. Good luck getting that facade to crack though, he's a tough cookie.

It's almost like trying to approach a wounded wild animal as a start, getting him to lay down for you is hard, but eventually he'll settle in enough to let you start. It's pretty smooth sailing from that point, but he's pretty anxious during his first time.

VOCAL! Vocal and grabby, he needs to grab something to help ground him because he's experiencing a lot of feelings, but he doesn't want to grab you because he doesn't want to hurt you. Would he do it again? Sure, he doesn't see why not, but don't expect him to ask for it outright very often.

Dense, unyielding muscle met your fingers as they dug into his pale flesh, squeezing his hips as you shallowly rocked into him, each time your hips canted forward and sank the strap back into him he let out a tiny, pathetic moan, hands desperate to seek out a handhold so he could grab something. The last time you'd tried to properly pull back and trust into him, his legs had snared around your waist to hold you close and unmoving for a second. Not because he was in pain and needed more time to adjust, oh no, but because he was absolutely blissed out and couldn't tolerate the thought of you pulling out any more than a few centimeters, even if you were going to push back in. He was needy and whining, but this was something nobody else had ever had the chance to do. The next attempt to pull your hips back was met with more success and a low moan, his eyes half-lidded and confused as they met yours, his pupils dilated so wide you could barely see the ring of brown around the black pools.

Leaning forward as your hips pulled back further, you kissed his chest only to bite the meat of his pec as your hips snapped forward. The sound he let out was unholy, pure sin as he moaned, the muscles of his hips coiling tight as he resisted the need to buck his hips against yours, well aware that he'd likely just wind up throwing you off of him, and that's the last thing that he wanted. No, he wanted you close, he wanted you deep. His hesitation was brief, but one of his hands left the now dented metal headboard of his bed to grab the back of your head and bring your lips to his, licking at your lips before he pressed his forehead against yours, your small thrusts sending sparks of pleasure racing through him, enough to confuse his brain and stun him into only being able to hold his forehead against yours and moan, desperate, feverish and needy for you, only for you.

With him now surrendered and pliant, you could properly fuck him, letting him keep your head, your hips were what you needed for this anyways, your hips drawing back before snapping forward as hard as physically possible, and he choked, body arching up against yours, his other hand grabbing a fistful of the sheets, which tore under the force. So much for these ones, but they were a necessary casualty. Your hips slammed against his, the harness biting into your skin ever so slightly, but it was so, so worth it to watch him writhing and squirming beneath you, head falling back against the pillows, jaw dropped open as he moaned nearly non-stop, voice gone hoarse from all the use it was getting. When words did return to him, it was so he could pull your forehead back against his to let out a demand. "Fuck me harder baby, I need to feel your strap all the way up in my throat." He growled, a dangerous spark igniting in his eyes. Turns out his filthy mouth worked just fine. That was something you needed to fix.

Kosho:

Haha! You're joking right? Right? Once he knows you're serious, he's not laughing anymore (beyond nervous laughter) because the thought is kinda intimidating. Just a little bit. He's going to need to think on it for a bit, but he'll likely give in at some point because now that you brought it up, it's on his mind.

He wants to be involved, but he also doesn't. So he'll likely leave most of it in your hands, but will want to give his input for the toy you use on him. He'll practically pass out if he sees anything over 6" on the list, even if the size is adjustable when you order.

He definitely will want a smaller softer toy, but he's not opposed to something that's 6". That's his cap though. 7" is too intimidating, and he doubts he'd ever be able to take a 10" or 12" toy.

If you leave it up to him, he'll be too embarrassed to do research so he'll just slap some lube on, so it's definitely going to be a process of you two trying some stuff out to get him familiar with anal play in general before you get to pegging.

He's probably going to cry ngl. He's so pent up that he can't really relax properly, so lots of lube is needed. Once you're all the way in though, that's when he starts shaking and shivering, making all sorts of little noises. Give him a minute, because while this feels good he hyped himself up too much.

Once you're into it, he's the most dramatic you'll ever see him. He's grabbing his hair, grabbing onto everything, seemingly can't get comfortable. Having him on his side will help with that a little, but he's fine on his front or his back. Would he try it again? He'll never admit it, but yeah, he probably would once he realizes that it feels kinda good.

He looked like he was going to cry. That was really the first thing on your mind as you straddled his hips, your legs spreading his thighs apart, a generous coating of lube already applied, but you were sure that he would ask you for some more, so you drizzled some more on again, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, watching his expression in the mirror. He was already prepped as thoroughly as you could, he'd already cum twice during the process of him getting ready, and he knew he could tell you to stop and you would, but there were still nerves. Another kiss was pressed into the space between his shoulder blades, your eyes meeting his again in the mirror, and he simply nodded, hugging the pillow closer to his face before you actually started pressing in. You could almost swear that you physically saw the thoughts leave his head, his eyes rolling back as his brows relaxed slightly, his arms tightening around the pillow.

You would honestly be more surprised that it took so little to get his brain melting, really. Your hips bumped gently against his, and one of his hands flashed back frantically to grab the flesh of your ass, holding you in place for just a moment before he gave you a cheeky little squeeze and let you go, hand returning to the death grip he had on the pillow, and you honestly couldn't help but roll your eyes. You'd told him it really wasn't that bad and that he should relax and enjoy it, but he'd gotten up in his own head again and had stressed so much he'd almost undone all of your combined hard work. A hand on the center of his lower back was more than enough to keep him in place as you shallowly thrusted against him, tiny whimpers escaping him, his shoulders visibly relaxing as you worked on him.

You didn't want to say anything and ruin his relaxed state, as a matter of fact, you wanted to see if you could break his pretty composed facade, get him crying and begging for you to just please fuck him, even if you were already going to do so. Your fingers sought out his hair as a better handhold, determined to get him to stop muffling himself with the pillow somehow, though your success came quicker than you thought it would as he willingly let you pull his head back, a long, high moan escaping him. "Hnnnng~! Harder baby, please, I need harder, I can take it, promise!" He whined, leaving you stunned dumb, your hips merely continuing to fuck into him as he whined and mewled for more, for harder, faster, deeper. Oh you were definitely going to do this again. Maybe next time he'd let you record him for the next time he decided to go on an adventure for training purposes, that way you wouldn't get lonely.

Kureha:

He's probably bottomed before ngl, so you wanting to peg him isn't as much of a shock. The most likely out of the group to not be surprised. He knows what he likes and he knows his body, so most likely he'll just wind up teasing you as he pulls up sex toy site so you can both pick out a strap.

Oh he's involved alright. He's buying his own toy, telling you all the stuff he likes. He's the kind to show you how he likes to be fucked, so expect for him to drag you onto his lap to ride him while he's riding the toy.

He's a size queen, there's no doubt about that. Unlike the others that insist on a bigger size out of over-confidence, he knows that he likes bigger and that he can take it. He's not going to let you use some monster toy on him though, he's got work to do.

He knows what to do, he's had to stick things in places before. He's got lube and toys, also fingers. He's perfectly prepped and ready for you, and he likely won't let you help, but he'll let you watch.

Business as usual for him honestly. Maybe a bit of grunting and panting when you're first pushing in, but beyond that he's perfectly fine just laying there and letting you do whatever you want to him.

Once you two actually get going though, that's when he's making unholy noises and doing the most sinful things with his hips possible. If he wasn't a doctor, he'd probably have a successful porn career, because he knows just how to get others going. Would he do it again? Sure! How does next Friday sound? He could use it after a long shift when he has the weekend off.

He was almost bored as he laid there, cheek propped up on one hand, but you knew better as he let out a soft moan, followed by a hum, his heels digging into the meat of your ass to bring you closer, deeper against him. He'd come home complaining about how long of a day he'd had, how tired he was of dealing with people and how he was sick and tired of the hospital director getting involved in his business at every possible opportunity, signing him up for activities he didn't have the time or energy for. His complaints had stopped when he saw the familiar strap you were wearing, laying completely naked in bed, rose petals scattered around. He was perfectly happy to let you do as you pleased right now, because his head hurt and his brain didn't have the capacity to be making decisions right at this very moment.

A moan sliced through the air, accompanied by a jolt, and his head dropped forward sharply, his fingers threading through his hair, desperate to find something to grab onto. You'd hit the right spot, and you could see the almost instant relaxation spreading through his body, a low hum escaping him as he rested his head on his arms, relaxing further into the mattress beneath him as you worked above him, though the hum was enough to show his acknowledgement, he very happily showed you just how much he was enjoying himself thanks to your treatment. Loud moans rang through the air as you fucked him on your strap, alternating between powerful vicious thrusts and slow, deep grinds that had him arching his back in pleasure, though if he needed more he let you know without hesitation, digging his heels into the meat of your ass, his legs spread and hooking around your sides.

His hair was off-limits, he'd made that perfectly clear, but it was starting to get in the way. Reaching up, you gathered the rich red locks around your hand, twisting them quickly into the loosest semblance of a braid, just enough to keep it held together, and set it off to the side so you could grab his shoulders and use them as leverage to properly rail into him, though he seemed just as pleased to have your hands on him, arching into your touch with a moan as you squeezed the tense muscles. "You really do know just what to do to help me relax after a long day, don't you darling?" He asked, the bite of sarcasm in his tone, though you saw through that to see the genuinely pleased look in his eyes. He could be as sassy as he wanted, you still knew that he was genuinely appreciative of your efforts.

Retsu:

Forget going red, the man straight up explodes. The smoke is clearly coming from his ears, you can see the error code displaying clearly across his bright red forehead, there's this almost vacant look in his eyes. He won't look at you while he accepts, he can't handle knowing that you want him in that way.

He's got no idea what the hell he's doing :D None whatsoever. He's willing to let you peg him right then and there, but he doesn't have anything that you'd need to actually do so, so getting something is a requirement.

He underestimates what he can take by a lot. He sees a 6" toy and insists that that's far too big and clearly not for a beginner, but he could honestly take an 8" toy just fine on his first try. He doesn't know that though, and you probably won't either.

He's going to do research, and you're going to know when he does it because he'll be incredibly flustered as he approaches you to try something out that he learned. Prep with him won't take too long, he knows how to relax himself, but get him off once or twice before you actually have him just to help.

Gasping, moaning, shaking and grabbing at the nearest thing to him. He wants you to take him in missionary if possible, he wants to look at your pretty face, he needs to see that he's doing a good job. He's going to need a minute once you're actually in to regulate his breathing and take a lil sip of water.

Actually fucking him with the strap is the closest thing you'll get to experiencing divinity. He's so pretty, perfect and pliant beneath you, letting you take what you want from him with a plea and a whine. Would he do it again? He'll rarely ask, but he's open to doing it again, especially since it felt so good the first time.

You honestly had no clue that Retsu could ever possibly get this red. His face was flushed almost crimson as you pinned him against his precious kitchen counter, his braid wrapped around your hand as you pulled his head back slightly to kiss him with each impact of your hips against his, your chest pressed against his back, the strap sinking into him over and over again, his cock jumping against his stomach, raspy gasps escaping his lips, soft, pliant and sweet. He was perfect, so so perfect. If this was what killed you, you could die happy. Your hand met his shaft, jerking him off gently as you fucked into him, kissing and nipping at his shoulders as you took him, keening whines leaving you practically feral, demanding more as your teeth sank into his shoulder, though you only got yowls of pleasure in response.

That was fine, that was perfect. Your nails digging into his hips, he ground back against you eagerly, sweat beading delicately at his brow as he throbbed in your palm, his pulse racing beneath your lips. The morning light through the blinds kissed his skin, highlighting each delicate intricacy of his body, the dip of his abs, the rolling veins of his forearms as he clung to the counter, all of the colours hidden in his eyes, which looked like molten chocolate to you as he looked back at you pleadingly, apparently needing something more than what he was getting at the moment. Whatever it was, you would give it to him. Did he want the sun itself extinguished? You could do that, you were sure of it as you bent him further over the counter, still holding his braid, his long silky hair so soft beneath your fingertips that you almost thought you were dreaming being able to touch it.

Your hand moved faster in tandem with your hips, his bulk submitting to your every touch and whim with only a pleased noise that made pleasure sling through your entire body and straight to your clit. You were so close already, just from fucking him on your strap. "Please- Please, love, please- so good- I love you-! Don't stop-! So good-!" He babbled, and only then did you realize that you'd fucked him dumb, one of his hands grabbing your hip, his dull nails biting into your hip as he desperately sought to bring you closer, deeper, so desperate to feel you against him as he came. You couldn't care less that he came all over the front of the cabinets, that could be cleaned later after you both stopped being horny and sweaty. Right now, your priority was the literal masterpiece that was currently trembling through his orgasm against you.

Doppo & Natsue:

You think Natsue hasn't pegged Doppo before? You fool, you absolute buffoon. She absolutely has, and you asking to peg him will reveal the most wicked grin you'll ever see on her face. Meanwhile Doppo is quietly choking on his water in the corner, because that certainly came out of nowhere. Not that he's complaining.

He's done this before, he knows what he wants, likes and needs. If you need a demonstration, Natsue is more than happy and willing to show you. Given the chance to be on top, she's vicious and Doppo loves it. They've already got something, but if you want to pick out something just for you and Doppo then they're both open to it.

He sees this as the perfect chance to try a new toy that he hasn't tried before, so he'll very casually look through a wide selection with you and Natsue, providing colourful commentary.

He's got the drill down by now, don't worry. He'll get himself nice and ready. If it's something you want, Natsue will help him with a smaller toy so you've got less work to do. Otherwise, she'll happily either step aside or occupy Doppo's mouth.

He's vocal, but he's not saying much of anything beyond telling you how good you look and how good you're making him feel. He's honestly thanking you by the time you're all the way in, and he's thanking Natsue too. He's thankful and he wants you both to know that.

Oh he's completely gone once you get going. No more words, nothing, he's just moaning and grabbing at things. If Natsue's riding him, he's holding onto her hips like they're a lifeline. If not, he's trying to hold your hand and hers at the same time. It's okay, he has big hands, it'll work out. Would he do it again? Oh hell yes! It's a guilty pleasure of his, and it's always nice to be taken care of in bed.

If Doppo could talk right now, you were fairly certain that he'd either be telling you and Natsue how beautiful you both were, or babbling about how good you were both making him feel and how he was so grateful for the attention and the opportunity. But he couldn't actually talk right now.. Well, he could, but that would require an amount of brainpower you were pretty sure you and Natsue had pounded out of him already. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, his hoarse moans filling the air, a delightful harmony with both Natsue's and your own, his big meaty hands frantically grabbing and holding Natsue's waist, her shoulders, your thighs, the blankets. Anything he could reach as she rode him hard while you pounded into him behind her. Your forehead pressed against her shoulders, urging her to lean forward a bit, but she resisted, pressing back against you, actually turning to kiss you hungrily, her fingers slipping between her legs to rub her clit while she ground deep against Doppo.

He was in his own little world, watching the both of you through one half-lidded eye, though his eyepatch was abandoned somewhere on the dresser. It was like he was watching two divine beings, his body wasn't even his own, it was theirs and theirs alone. He was perfectly happy being able to just watch and touch, his hand settling on Natsue's shoulder to rub soothingly so she wouldn't get a cramp from turning so far. Her hands snared around his wrists as she leaned forward sharply, pinning his arms above his head as she kissed him, leaving you to properly rut into him behind her. She held his arms down with one hand, the other holding his jaw as she looked back at you and smiled breathlessly, both of their eyes on you as you let yourself be a bit rougher. He was big and strong, he could take the rougher pace, and he did, with much gusto, his moans increasing in volume and frequency. He was close already.

Natsue hummed as she kissed him, letting him hug her close and guide her hips up and down along his shaft, hold her face tenderly, reach to gently caress your cheek as you brought pleasure to him, pleasure so good it made his mind go foggy. "I think we broke him. Did we break you, my beloved superman?" Natsue asked, and Doppo moaned, tilting her chin towards him so he could kiss her. "My loves, my beautiful, beautiful loves... So pretty, so sweet- hgk! So good to me-!" He babbled, voice hitching, and she chuckled, still playing with her clit, though she looked back at you with a slight smirk as your hand settled on her lower back. At this rate, you were certain you were going to permanently melt Doppo's brain, and while he certainly wouldn't mind, you did actually kind of like his clever quips and sage advice. Kissing Natsue's shoulder, rolled her hips just how she'd showed you not that long ago, and he screamed, hands hitting the floor as he scratched at the floorboards, desperate to cling to something as you sought to bully his prostate. He was going to cum, you wouldn't allow anything less.

Shibukawa:

Oh he's going to bully you for that. You want to peg him? Surely you're joking. But that's just to cover up the fact that he's so flustered by the mere idea that you want him that way. He knows some people do it, but he never thought that you'd want to do it with him. It's not a definite no, but it's a "not right now, let me think"

If he does decide to go through with it, then he's got... Nothing. Sorry. You're going to have to help him pick something out, but that's just so obscene in his eyes that he can't help himself and he has to step away. He's trusting you on this. This is your chance to prank tf out of him. Get something for yourself instead of the small toy he asked you for. Go on, you know you want to.

He gets to about the first page of anal toys and then promptly has to walk away because why are there so many different kinds?!? Why is that one longer than his whole arm?! He's concerned, but he's got a vague idea of what he wants in his mind.

You're going to have to help him with prep, but only because he's too stubborn to do it all by himself. If he's going to do this for you, you'd better help him! And bring lots of lube, because he's got sensitive skin and he knows it.

He's all cocky and confident until you start pushing in, and then he's flailing, moaning, trying to pull you in closer and push you away at the same time. The most dramatic bottom in existence. The cool, calm and cocky attitude returns once you're all the way in and he's adjusted to the size. He just needs his lil freak-out to see if he can rattle you.

He's so bitchy when you're going at it. It's entirely his fault that he chose such a small toy, he knows it, but still, you'd better put that thing to work because once he has a chance to get comfortable he's going to need a bit more than just shallow thrusts. Would he do it again? Sure, why not? He doesn't see the harm in it! Especially if he gets the chance to mess with you again.

His act didn't fool you. You'd learned better a while ago, the frail old man act was just that: an act. He was probably sturdier than you were if you were being entirely honest. It just meant that he wanted something from you though, and it was his way of asking you to give it to him without actually asking you. Your hips slowed against his as you slotted your lips against his, earning a deep groan, his eyes fluttering. But he didn't feel the need to tell you what it is he wanted, apparently having gotten it. He wanted slow, apparently. Wanted you to go slow and stay close where he could hug you and stare into your eyes, a pleased look on his face as he pecked your cheek, your hips pressing against his perfectly. He'd demanded so much lube that you were certain your skin was going to be smooth and hydrated for the next month or so.

Pulling him further down the futon with you, you used it as a chance to get rougher with him for just a second, slamming into him and biting his collarbone. A yowl escaped his lips, and he playfully swatted your rear, though there was nothing behind it, though you weren't quite done with your mischief. Rearing back to your full height, you grabbed his chest like he often did to you when he was on top, tweaking his nipples only to pull out almost entirely, leaving the tip of your strap inside of him. You'd never heard a more desperate noise from the Aiki master in the entire time you'd known him, but you had heard similar sounds from yourself when he'd insisted on teasing you when you were oh so close to cumming. Leaning over him, you pressed his pecs together and practically purred, fucking him on the tip of your strap. It was still stimulation, but you knew it wouldn't be enough for him. You caught the glint in his eye moments before he went to move, but you were quicker, your hips stopping entirely as his legs wrapped around your waist, earning a gasp.

He glared up at you, flustered and flushed, desperate and so, so close. You smirked down at him, full of such smug energy that he had to be proud even through the frustration. A breathless chuckle escaped him as he laid back, grabbing your wrists. "Very funny dear, message received loud and clear. Now would you kindly finish me off?" He asked, and you pretended to contemplate it for just a moment, catching the slight concern in his expression before you smirked wickedly and slammed back into him, earning a yowl as he thrashed beneath you, gasping and grabbing at your shoulders, desperate to bring you close and hold you. Now you could understand why he liked teasing you so much, it really was fun to make your partner quiver beneath you.

#baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #grappler baki #baki dou #baki rahen #baki headcanons #baki hanma #kozue matsumoto #hanayama kaoru #chiharu shiba #katsumi orochi #jack hanma #kosho shinogi #kureha shinogi #retsu kaioh #doppo orochi #natsue orochi #shibukawa gouki

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akwolfgrl · 2 months

Text

LFT PART 41

"I can't reach my nose from here,” Luffy whined, unable to pick his nose.

“Quit that idiot! You are about to witness an execution” Buggy snapped at him.

“Oh cool! I've never seen one before who's being killed?” Luffy asked.

“You are dumbass!”

“I'm sorry please let me go,” Luffy pouted, it was no fun being stuck like this, he wanted to live and go on adventures, he wanted to eat good food, to spend time on the Marry with his Nakama, to meet up with Ace again. He still had yet to become the king of the pirates!

“As if I'd just let you go, you rubber idiot!” Buggy shouted at him, his pointy shoe resting atop his hat. “Any last words?” The annoying clown asked him. When Luffy didn't immediately respond, he kept going. “Well whatever or not you say anything, it does really matter. It's not like anyone will care what you have to s..”

“I'M THE MAN WHO WILL BECOME THE KING OF THE PIRATES!” Luffy screamed at the of his lungs, declaring his interactions and ambition for all to hear.

“Is that all you have to say…" You stupid rubber brat!?” Buggy laughed at him, kicking the wood he was trapped under.

“Wait!” A familiar and welcome voice shouted from the crowd. In the distance, he could see Sanji and Zoro fighting to get to him.

“Sanji! Zoro! Help me outta here!”

“So you have come, Zoro! Well, it's too late now! Your precious captain is going to die!” The obnoxious clown began to laugh maniacally above him. “Bear witness to your captain's last moments!”

Oh looks like this was the end after all, Luffy would miss his friends. Maybe Nami could become Captain, they could still go to the Grand Line and achieve their dreams without him.

“Sanji! Zoro! Usopp! Nami!” He called each of his nakama by their name, his heart felt full with love. He wished them all the best. “Sorry but it looks like I'm dead,” he stated with the widest grin he’d ever smiled, looking much like the man executed in that same spot 20 years ago.

Zoro sliced and diced anyone who got in his way. Wave after wave of weirdos, clowns and circus freaks that made up Buggy's crew met their end at the tip of his swords. Sanji by his side fighting just as hard to get to their Captain. It couldn't end this way before they even made it to the grandline. He should have gone with him! It was his duty to protect the crew.

What good was his swords, his dream, his ambitions if he could protect those that belonged to him! If Zoro couldn't save the man who had saved him! He would be dead if not for Luffy. No chance to fulfill his and Kuina’s dream.

“Move it!” He yelled slicing into yet another body, they were all just cannon fodder to hinder him in his quest for Luffy. “Come down and fight me you coward!” Zoro screamed from behind Wado clenched tightly between his teeth.

Where were the Marines who were supposed to protect this town and its citizens? There were more than just pirates here. There were innocent citizens screaming and running from the grave danger they were in. The World Government yet again proving to be useless as always once again.

If only he could just cut down that damn execution platform then everything would be fine.

If only he could kick down that execution platform then everything would be fine. Sanji thought to himself as he kicked his way towards his captain. He knew Zoro was beside him doing the same with his new swords. To hear the peril in Luffy's voice broke Sanji's heart. Luffy should never sound like that! Unless he was asking for more food. Just what was this clown's issue with Luffy and Zoro anyway?

“Bastard!” Sanji cried out filled with rage and desperation.

“Sanji! Zoro! Usopp! Nami! Sorry but it looks like I'm dead,” Sanji watched helplessly just like everyday as a child. Too weak to stop what was happening before his eyes as his captain smiled as the sword drew near to his neck.

“Don't say that, you idiot!” Sanji pleaded, this couldn't be happening.

There was a flash of lighting and the rumbler of thunder Sanji saw the executioner's platform explode, its smoking remains soon soaked with the falling rain. In the rumble stood Luffy unharmed as if he hadn't been about to die. The strange clown with the vendetta was covered in charcoal.

“Looks like I did survive!” Luffy chuckled, placing his hat atop his head. “How lucky! Thank goodness!”

“Hey…” Sanji turned to Zoro who also was standing there lost. His swords sheathed once more as Sanji continued on with his question for his lover. “Do you believe in a god?” Sanji had never been much of a believer himself. The ocean was his goddess, he knew she could be harsh and cruel but he loved her all the same. She was his first love, she was a part of his dream. He had spent the majority of his life on her. But this couldn't be anything other than a sign from something divine.

“Enough talking and let's leave this damn town already. We've got more trouble on the way,” his ever so blunt partner stated.

#one piece #fanfic #lust filled thoughts #roronoa zoro #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #zoro #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #buggy the clown #monkey d luffy #luffy #loguetown

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scribbling-dragon · 5 months

Text

don't turn out the lights (kiss yourself goodnight)

summary:

“Hi,” Martyn continues to grin, even as it turns awkward and even guiltier. “I'm coming over. Can I come over?” Martyn pauses on the bridge then, as though just realising his presence might be unwanted after ditching him all morning. “I don't know if I should let you,” he says. It’s not an answer either way.

(ao3 link)

(7,119 words)

[hi! talking in bold so this catches your eyes ooOOooo anyway! this is the FINAL PART of this series! it's done! this is the end! meaning, everyone dies in this fic. there's your warning! there's gonna be death, injury, blood, etc. all the fun stuff! so just keep that in mind when you read it. also! it'd be really nice if you could reblog this because it took me a long time and i put a buncha effort into it! comments in the tags are even cuter- they let me know you liked it! i write for fun but i post because i want other people to also enjoy what i make, letting me know that you did quite literally makes my day.

anyway! hope u enjoy! <33]

The Isles is almost eerily quiet.

It is expected. The losses they had experienced only a day prior are enough to stun even the loudest of people into silence. It seems their world is only mirroring their mourning, not even birds singing to greet the dawn. Instead, it leaves everyone to prepare for their day, silence permeating the air around them. Even the sun appears muted, watery, as it tiredly heaves itself over the edge of the water, already beginning to chase away the deep purples of night.

He doubts any of them will be around to see another miserable sunrise such as this one.

Scott runs a cloth over the dull edge of his sword, wiping the dried blood away as best as he can manage with only a scrap of damp fabric. It’s already stained red, beyond any kind of repair. The dried blood remains stubborn, clinging to his blade as the last few echoes of others’ lives.

It flakes away as he scrapes against it with a single, sharp nail. The dried blood of friend and foe alike clumps together as it gathers beneath his nail, forcing him to stop his task and pick it out once he can no longer stand the feeling of it. He flicks it to the ground beneath him, hoping the flecks of red will become lost amongst the yellowing grass he sits upon. He still finds his eyes picking it out, like berries nestled amongst the dry stalks of grass that are determined to catch his eyes whenever he glances over.

He pauses at the sound of creaking floorboards above him, a few grains of sand pattering down onto his head. He cocks his head to the side and listens a little more intently as more creaking follows. Martyn had still been sleeping when he got up, curled comfortably in their shared bed. Scott had been tempted to stay and enjoy the peace a little longer, but his own mind was restless.

He hadn’t wanted to disturb the last few peaceful moments Martyn would probably get before this is all over, rising and attending to small tasks that didn’t really need to be done; tasks that were there to busy the hands rather than be productive. He doesn’t have that sort of time to waste, still target number one, certainly, his clock ticking down from higher numbers than everyone else, but his time is as limited as the rest of them.

His sword had been cleaned and sharpened. The blade, previously coated in dried blood so thick you could barely see its shimmer now gleams in the rapidly strengthening sunlight.

The purple hue of the skyline has been almost completely wiped away, leaving a pink sky in its wake. The light of it dyes the ocean a deep red, churning against the edges of their island as though it can hardly wait to devour it all once they're gone.

He continues to listen as footsteps echo overhead, uninterested in continuing to prepare for murdering his friends, waiting for Martyn to poke his head through the doorway and begin chattering away. He’s always more talkative in the morning, as though he has to make up for not speaking all night.

He looks over at the sound of a quiet splash, sitting up and sword forgotten as he stands a moment later. He pokes his head out of their storage room, watching as Martyn swims away from their island and towards the mainland. He dips beneath the waves a few times, swimming quickly.

Scott lingers in the doorway, watching as Martyn emerges onto the sandy shoreline, not even bothering to rid himself of the water he’d collected on his trip over as he usually would. Instead, he looks around, searching for…something. Scott isn’t certain what it is that he’s searching for – they hadn’t even had a conversation yet that morning to go over what should be done, who to avoid, who to target – and apparently not find it as he trudges into the treeline, quickly disappearing into the murky darkness that seems to cling to any dark oak forest, still soaking wet from his short swim.

Scott withdraws into their storage room, confused and more than a little hurt. His mind races a mile a minute, barely giving him a moment to process anything before he’s thinking of another potential explanation. Did they have a conversation last night that indicated Martyn was going to do something like this? Did Martyn assume he had already left and gone searching for him?

Only, Martyn had swum over there like a man possessed, like he would die if he didn’t reach the shoreline as quickly as he did. And yet – and yet – the moment he reached his destination he had looked around, as though uncertain of where to go.

Scott likes to think that he can read Martyn quite well, after the multiple times they’ve gone through these games together, and also the time they’ve spent together on this very island. He likes to think he can read Martyn well. And the way Martyn had looked around, on that shoreline, had not been with the intent of finding something lost, it had been done with the confusion of someone that had walked into a room and forgotten what they were going to do.

But, there’s no point in catching up with him yet. No reason to dive after him and catch up; see if he can shake any answers loose from the man. Not when he still has arrows to make and a bow to restring.

They can talk later. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

=== === ===

“Now, I'm not a professional,” he tells Cleo, hopping down a few more blocks and squeezing into the gap he’d left for himself. There’s no redstone involved in this, only the tiny guide in the back of his head that’s jumping between steps as he attempts to remember how to do this, struggling to reconcile the new information he had with the idea that he’d already gotten it right.

He’d done it wrong last time, his hands still stinging from the hot blast that had gotten him before he managed to shove his shield in front of himself, letting that take the brunt of the explosion rather than absorbing it with his face.

“Never said you were,” he feels a shadow fall over him as Cleo leans down to peer at what he’s doing. “Reckon you're gonna blow the both of us up again?”

“I wouldn’t stand so close,” he chuckles, feeling rather than seeing as Cleo steps back. He slowly, carefully, places another bundle of TNT into the minecart, feeling the thing rattle with the weight of how much TNT he’s shoved into it. The sculk clings to his hands as he sets it down onto the block, gripping onto him as he attempts to pull away, unwilling to release him.

He continues pulling his hands back until the sculk accepts its loss, releasing his fingers and withdrawing back to the dirt block he’d provided for it. He watches as it curls itself into the dirt block, then simply engulfs it. He has no better words to describe the way it simply spreads over the block, too fast for him to even track with his eyes, until the entire patch is made of sculk.

He withdraws even more carefully, slowly easing himself out of the hole. He’s aware of the way the dirt clings around his shoulders. One wrong move could set off the trap he’s just spent the better part of ten minutes setting up, and he’d probably be blown to bits alongside it.

Cleo waits until he’s completely free of the hole before continuing to speak. “Where’s your other half today? Didn’t think you came as a single package anymore.”

“Very funny,” he forces a laugh as he turns to glare at them. “I don't know,” he answers. Not at all bitterly. “He ran off this morning before I could even get a chance to speak with him, went off to do…something.”

He sees Cleo frown, eyebrows creasing together. “And you haven’t tried to find him?”

“He needs something, then he’ll find me.” He dismisses Cleo’s worries easily – he’s been dismissing his own all morning, ignoring them in order to actually get anything done. Dismissing Cleo’s probing questions and slightly worried glances is far easier. “He’s been acting all funny recently anyway. If he’s gone off to sort himself out, then that’s fine.”

“Wait, Scott,” Cleo moves around him, pressing their hands down onto the small tunnel entrance and blocking him from poking around in there a little more. He leans back on his heels, knees digging into the ground as he glares up at her. “That’s not at all like Martyn. He sticks around other people as best as he can, even if it means bouncing between several groups. You're telling me he’s disappeared and you're not even worried?”

“Of course I'm worried, Cleo.” He huffs out a breath, resisting for only a moment before he raises his hands to his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. It relieves a little of his stress, and also means he doesn’t have to look them in the eye anymore. “But there’s nothing I can do about it, so I just have to wait and sit tight and hope he shows up.”

“You said he was acting weird,” Cleo asks, after the silence has hung between them for a moment. “Weird…how?”

“I don't know,” he sighs, dropping his hands. Cleo stares at him. “Ugh, I guess, like, spacing out? He was acting really weird after, uh, yesterday and the whole,” he waves a hand, “canary business. But I thought that was just the shock of all that, and then all the stuff after that. I didn’t even speak to him this morning, but there was this weird air around him. It was really fucking strange, Cleo, and I don't even know what it means!”

“Yeah, alright, alright,” Cleo hesitates for a moment, before patting him on the shoulder. “I think that’s just how he gets at this point. I think he was like this last time? I’d have to repeat myself several times for literally anything to get through to him.”

“I keep forgetting you were partnered with him last time,” he huffs out a laugh. “So he just gets like this every time? Why doesn’t anyone say anything?” He pauses. “Have you said anything?”

“To Martyn? No.” Cleo glances over at a shout from the Clock Tower, then back at him. “To anyone else? …Also no. I didn’t think it was my place to pry or ask around, and I guess that’s the common sentiment. Maybe he’s done it every single time. Maybe he only started doing it last time. Who knows? Maybe he's just gone insane.”

“Pretty sure that’s Joel you're thinking of,” he jokes, and then regrets when it opens up a pit in his stomach.

“Maybe go find him,” Cleo says. They both ignore the slightly heavier air around both of them, the mention of Joel souring their moods rather quickly.

“Yeah,” he brushes the dirt from his hands. “Yeah, I will.” He stands, eyeing the inconspicuous path ahead of them. “Thanks, Cleo.”

“No problem. Hope you find him.”

So do I, Scott doesn’t say. Hope you're still kicking around when I’ve found him, he keeps to himself too. He knows the Clockers aren’t doing well for time, all of their clocks far lower than his own, even after donating some of his time to Scar earlier.

He can feel Cleo watching him. Maybe they're giving him some of their own well wishes.

=== === ===

Going onto Skynet is never his favourite thing. But he’s been poking around on the ground for long enough that he’s rather certain Martyn isn’t hanging around there. Unless he’s dug himself into a hole underground as it currently hiding there until his clock runs out, he’s not on ground-level.

Meaning, into the skies he goes. The ladder is wonky and the rungs are thin enough that they threaten to snap under every step he takes upwards.

He can feel his hands growing sweaty the higher he ascends, nervousness making him glance down and come to terms with just how high he was in the air. With nothing to support him but a quickly and shoddily built ladder to nowhere.

He hauls himself up onto the main chunk of Skynet, grateful for the ground beneath his feet; solid despite being a thousand feet in the air. A drop from here would definitely kill him. A real risk, he realises, when an arrow thunks into the ground at his feet.

He glances over in the direction where it came from, dropping into a crouch. He’s not certain whether that shot was a mistake or a warning. It could have been fully intended to send him stumbling backwards and over the edge. But another arrow doesn’t follow, leaving him staring across the gap between their bridges, the group of three staring back at him.

…Three?

He can just barely see Etho crouched behind the makeshift wall he’s thrown up, the very tips of fuzzy white ears peeking over the edge of the dirt barricade, and Tango beside him is distinctive with his hair aflame. Meaning, no, his eyes are not deceiving him; Martyn really is crouched over with the other two, watching as they shoot at him.

He straightens up, almost planting his hands on his hips and yelling across the gap then and there. For Martyn to just ditch him earlier, and then for Scott to find him with people that have been relentlessly hunting him? Unacceptable. He only holds his tongue because shouting across such a wide gap is embarrassing, and not at all conducive to a proper conversation.

He stares across the gap a little longer, before holding a hand up in the universal gesture for wait.

He then takes a very brave step away from the main landing pad at the top of the ladder, the bridge narrowing even further and leaving him running quickly across the thin branches of Skynet. He keeps his shield held loosely at his side, and can only pray that Etho and Tango – or, gods forbid, Martyn – decide to get in an easy kill and shoot him.

He gets onto the same bridge as them before they start shooting at him, close enough for Scott to start talking to Martyn, even if it means he has to yell to be heard.

“Etho!” He jerks to the side as an arrow skims past his face, close enough that he can hear it whistle as it passes him. “No need!”

He hears Etho chuckling easily enough, even hunkered down behind his own makeshift shelter, only daring to peek over the edge once a moment has passed and his heart no longer threatens to leap from his chest. Martyn, Etho and Tango all peek back at him, lined up near perfectly. Scott might be tempted to take a photo if he wasn’t so irritated.

Another arrow shoots past his face and he scowls, pulling his own bow out and firing right back at them. He sees Tango jump in place and duck down as the arrow goes right over his head, far too high to actually hit anyone.

Several arrows embed themselves in the front of his small defence within a few minutes, making it easy to reach over and collect them up, adding them to his own quiver. “I've got arrows for days!” he calls over to them, grinning and urging them to continue shooting at him.

He notches another arrow, back pressed against his barricade before popping back up again, aiming and ready to fire.

Martyn visibly startles when he reappears, halfway across the bridge connecting them. He almost falls, Scott thinks, teetering dangerously on the edge as he readjusts his balance, shield held cautiously but not protectively in front of himself.

“Martyn,” he warns, not releasing his arrow but not dropping the bow either. He keeps it carefully trained on Martyn’s face, even as Etho and Tango continue to watch the two of them curiously. Martyn glances upwards from where he’d been watching his feet, smiling guiltily. Good.

“I don't know if I should let you,” he says. It’s not an answer either way. Something that Martyn seems to realise too, as he doesn’t keep moving forward, remaining rooted in place on the stupidly thin bridges that TIES built on a whim and everyone else decided to use. “Why are you with them?” He jerks his bow towards Etho and Tango, taking it off Martyn for a single second.

A single second which is, apparently, long enough for Martyn to run across the rest of the space and drop down beside him, both of them huddled far too close behind this too-small barricade. His knee knocks against Martyn’s, their legs pressing together when he lets them. He’s twisted awkwardly to continue aiming the bow at Etho and Tango, reluctant to take his eye off of them even if Martyn demands his attention with pleading eyes.

“Because I've not seen you yet today,” Martyn’s hand is warm on his arm. Near burning at the point of contact as he pulls at him, urging him to lower his bow. He holds the string of his bow tense for only a moment longer before heaving a great sigh and loosening it gradually, allowing the arrow to fall free from where it had been notched and into his open palm. Martyn continues, seeing him giving in, “I woke up and there was no-one here. There, wherever,” Martyn shrugs. “And then I just…” he trails off, eyes sliding to the side.

The hand on his arm slackens a little, turning from a comforting grip to a weight on his arm. The point of contact no longer burns, his skin warming up and adjusting to the sudden heat of another person.

“And then you just…?” Scott prompts, frowning when Martyn doesn’t give him a response. He’s still watching something off to the side, but when Scott turns to look where he is, there’s nothing there. No person trying to kill them or mysterious floating entity that would cause the kind of look Martyn currently has in his eyes.

“Hey,” he waves a hand in front of Martyn’s face, frowning when that continues to get no response from him. He rests his hand on Martyn’s cheek, growing even more concerned when that fails to get a reaction from him, sliding his thumb along Martyn’s cheekbone. His hand slips lower to cradle Martyn’s face, bringing his other hand to pat him on the cheek, like trying to wake someone up.

Martyn blinks, eyes refocusing, and then jolts. Scott holds onto him, keeping him in place as he regains his bearings from…whatever the hell just happened.

“When’d you get so close?” Martyn asks, clearly going for joking and missing it by miles. He lands somewhere around confused and worried instead, which only concerns Scott more.

Scott pauses for a moment, considering his next step. “Aw,” he tilts his head to the side, thumb still brushing against Martyn’s cheek affectionately. “Don't tell me you got so caught up in seeing me that you forgot to pay attention?”

Martyn laughs, leaning in a little closer, close enough that their noses are just shy of touching. His eyes are completely focused now, not drifting over Scott’s shoulder to look at something only Martyn can see. It eases something in his chest, something he hadn’t realised was so tight until it loosened all of a sudden.

“Well, it really is quite easy to get lost in your eyes. The depths of them are like an unexplored ocean-”

He shoves Martyn away from him with a laugh. “Don't you start with that,” he warns, mock angry as he wags his finger at Martyn. “That’s a terrible pick-up line, and one that doesn’t even work right now! My eyes are as red as they can be, so don't be silly.”

“Then your eyes are like the ocean in the morning,” Martyn counters. “Did you not see how red it was this morning? Like the sunrise itself had spilled into the waters.”

“How romantic of you.” He doesn’t mention how this morning was the only time the waters were dyed such a colour by the rising sun. Martyn wouldn’t know that, as a late riser, but Scott has watched those waters shimmer beneath the sunrise every morning since they were dumped here.

“Get a room!” Etho very bravely yells over at them, still hiding behind his barricade. “We wanna get past you!”

“Run on past then!” Scott yells back. “What’s there to be scared of!”

“What we might see!” Tango contribute, popping up beside his teammate. “I don't know what you two’re doing behind that!”

Scott scoffs in disgust at the idea. Not only is the entire place made of dirt, but they're also miles in the sky. Not exactly something he’d jump at the idea of.

“Go the other way then!” he yells, getting to his feet. He pulls his shield up just in case, but no arrows come his way. He offers Martyn his hand as he watches half of TIES (two-thirds, his brain supplies helpfully. Two-thirds.) deliberate over their next course of action.

“Cowards!” Martyn yells as Etho begins retreating.

Scott laughs at the offended noise Tango makes, loud enough for them both to hear it. Laughing is easier than thinking about what just happened. Easier than turning Cleo’s words over and over in his mind.

Easier to take Martyn’s hand and lead him away as though none of that happened at all.

=== === ===

He can see Etho watching him as he climbs, ears twisted backwards and crossbow held at the ready. He’s just as pleased to be up here as Etho is. All roads lead to Skynet, apparently, meaning he’s back on the hellish thing, praying that nothing breaks.

“We’re just here to talk,” he assures, crouching on the lip of cobblestone just above the ladder, reaching a hand down slowly for Martyn to take. He feels it slot into his hand easily, burning hot against freezing cold.

“Promise?” Etho keeps his crossbow held tightly in his hands. Not that Scott blames them. This is the time for temporary alliances, certainly, but he doubts anyone is above faking a temporary alliance to get closer to someone just to kill them.

“Promise.”

Martyn settles onto the ledge beside him, though Martyn sits down, legs swinging off the edge as he watches Martyn. Scott remains crouched, one hand flat against the cobbles, hunched over like some kind of gargoyle.

He probably looks like one, too. Fish-like spines and fins make it rather hard to hide the changes he’s undergone since going red. The scales layering over his skin and remaining thick until his elbows make it even more so. He can only be glad that he still has his legs, or that It didn’t decide to give him some kind of tail to weigh him down further.

“Okay,” Etho takes a step closer, and, in an incredible show of good faith, tucks his crossbow away so none of them have any weapons. “Let’s talk, then.”

Scott grins, more than a little satisfied with himself. It’s always risky reaching out for another alliance this late in the game, but taking the risk is better than leaving the ending unknown. This is a way for them to have a better shot at winning.

“The biggest hour- time, thingy, is the Nosy Neighbours,” he starts. “Pearl and Grian have the most time right now.”

“And they're a pretty strong team,” Etho glances over in the direction of the Neighbours’ tower, expression considering. “There’s three of them in it.”

Martyn hums something that vaguely sounds like agreement, but when Scott looks over at him, he’s staring off into space again, not at all registering the space around them. Scott shuffles a little closer to him, pressing his hip into his side in the hopes that the contact can bring him back from wherever his mind has wandered off to. Contact has helped, in the previous moments where he’s been like this.

“And we’re two sets of two,” Scott says. He feels momentarily guilty for pointing it out when Etho looks saddened by the reminder that Tango is gone now, too.

“Well,” Etho rocks back on his heels. “I can’t find Impulse at the moment- not a clue where he’s wandered off to.”

Maybe Etho’s words summon him, because Scott watches a blur plummet down onto the Mansion, disappearing under the water for a moment before resurfacing. Even from their distance, he’s able to make out the distinctive yellow ‘i’ on his shirt.

“Grian fell from Skynet,” Martyn says, blinking back to reality.

“Uh, no,” he gives Martyn a confused look from the corner of his eye. “That’s Impulse.”

“I- what?” Martyn glances over at the Mansion, “Oh! Yeah, yeah, that’s Impulse. Yeah.”

Etho gives them a funny look, eyes squinting as he studies Martyn.

“We can summon him over here,” Scott says, distracting Etho before he can ask too many questions. He’d been hanging out with Martyn earlier, could have seen his spacy-ness. Could identify it as something to be used later. Something that Scott would prefer him not to do. “Tell him we have Etho.”

“Like some kind of hostage situation?”

“Ooh, yeah,” Martyn nods along with Etho’s suggestion. “Let’s take him hostage.”

“Or we can just go down and meet him?” Etho suggests. He doesn’t look excited at the hostage idea, go figure. “I don't want to make him climb all the way back up for nothing.

“I don't really want to climb all the way back down there,” he complains, but its for nought as Etho clambers up to where they're sitting, leading the (very slow) charge down to the base of the ladder. His arms feel shaky by the time he reaches the bottom, from both exertion and exhaustion. He feels like he hasn’t slept properly in weeks.

Scott taps out the message on his comm, feet firmly planted into the nice sandy ground below him. It’s a comfort, to be back on truly solid ground again, even with the TIES’ wonky tower casting a slightly uneven shadow over them all.

<Smajor1995> come to us

He follows behind Martyn and Etho absently as he continues to type, hopping over the small blast craters easily and circling around the larger ones just as easily. He has to pause for a moment to bat away a zombie, sword slashing straight through its chest and sending it dissolving into a pile of dust.

<Smajor1995> we have etho

He knows its an ominous message to leave it on, especially when the two of them have been separated for who knows how long. Etho chuckles a little at it, but doesn’t send a message to reassure his teammate. A sense of urgency makes for swift feet, and they want to deal with the Neighbours as quickly as possible, he supposes. Better to do it now than when their timers are about to run out.

“What do you mean you have Etho?!” Scott spins on the spot to greet Impulse.

“As a friend!” he calls back. “We have Etho as a friend!” A skeleton shoots him as he speaks, managing to actually hit him when he’s sluggish on putting his shield up. It’s enough to make him realise how surrounded by mobs they’ve gotten, closed in on all sides, each of them beating back at least two mobs at a time.

“Let’s go!” he calls out, looking around for a place for them to actually go. He only manages to spot the little cave entrance by chance, remembering the little nook beyond that they can hunker down in for the night. Martyn catches up with him quickly when he realises where Scott’s heading. “Told you framing it like we had Etho as a hostage would work.”

“Yeah, wasn’t you he tried to run through with his sword.” Martyn mutters.

“He didn’t try to run you through with his sword,” he rebukes softly, speaking quieter as they enter the cave, aware that their voices will echo over to the following pair.

“He was thinking it,” Martyn says darkly. “I could sense it; hear it in the air.”

Scott doesn’t even get to ask what the hell that means, because Impulse is suddenly slamming the door shut and saying something about “not letting the zombies in too!”

The plan is laughably easy to make, once they get over their bickering and the small taunts they throw at each other. It’s hard not to point out Impulse’s attempts to blow him up earlier, something that Impulse receives with good grace and lets go as water under the bridge.

It’s only worrying how often Martyn spaces out, only ever chiming back in with something that nearly has Scott questioning how he knows Grian is currently away from the base, or that Pearl is up on Skynet, nevermind that all of them are underground and have been for the better part of twenty minutes, formulating the plan they're going to use to try and eliminate their biggest threat. How Martyn knows this is a mystery, but not anything that anyone is questioning, for some reason?

It doesn’t stop Scott from inching a little closer, until they're close enough to touch. So Scott can make sure he’s still real, still there. Not yet gone and seeing things that only the dead are meant to see.

It’s unnerving, how Martyn’s eyes go far away when he thinks about something, considers a question that he realistically shouldn’t have the answer to.

It’s terrifying when he tilts his head to the side, as though angling himself to listen to something more intently.

=== === ===

Oh this is new, he thinks, when he enters the tower that he knows BigB is in, and there’s no-one there. He holds his sword steady, laughing a little as he looks around.

He’s not invisible, no small swirls of smoke giving away his position as he moves. There’s absolutely no indication of where BigB is, other than the faint impression that there’s a person right in front of him.

“Oh, you're invisible,” he says aloud, mostly to himself.

“Am I?” BigB’s voice comes from a little to the left, and he swings for it, sword sweeping in a wide arc as he hopes it catches on flesh. It jerks to a stop as it embeds itself in…some part of BigB. He stares hard at that spot in front of him, but his eyes refuse to focus, sliding away whenever he tries to look for longer than a second.

“You are,” he confirms, ignoring BigB’s small grunt of pain as he yanks his sword back towards himself, holding it up defensively. This entire fight just got a lot harder if BigB isn’t the one doing this. It can only be one other doing this, sabotage against him. Something to make him fall a little easier. He loses track of where BigB is, the empty tower around them making his footsteps echo and hard to track. “I'm sure this fight will be easy enough, though.”

“No it won’t!”

Gotcha.

He swings around, spinning on the heel of his foot to make it quicker, flipping his sword at the last moment and slamming the blunt edge of his blade into BigB’s side, winding him rather than slicing him in half.

He swings his sword up to block at the shing of a blade being unsheathed, feeling the invisible weapon press down against his hands, heavy and forcing him to bend beneath it. He bends his knees, sinking a little lower. BigB laughs, excited at this upper hand he’s gained.

Scott holds it a little longer, ignoring the way his arms begin to shake from the strain. Only when he’s certain BigB is pressing most of his weight down against him does he slip away, dropping his sword and darting out of range as fast as he can.

‘As fast as he can’ is apparently not fast enough, feeling the cool metal of a blade dig into his back before he manages to slip completely away, hissing through clenched teeth at the burning sensation that quickly spreads over his back.

“Hah!” BigB cheers at this small victory, even as Scott turns back to face him. The wavering outline of something vaguely resembling a person is all he has to go off of. It’s like the wavering air above stone on a hot day. “Still confident?”

“Of course,” he scoffs. He ignores the way he has to readjust his grip on his sword, hand sweaty as he backs up another step. Whatever invisibility gift this is, it’s not fair. He has a rather good idea of who is doing this, and he cusses them out silently in his mind. Maybe They’ll be able to hear his swearing. “You think I’ll go down that easily?”

He can feel the blood soaking through his shirt rather quickly. For a surface wound, it’s bleeding a lot, and really quite painful.

He still swings when BigB comes at him again, the sound of feet on the cobbles his only indicator. Swinging in such a wide arc wrenches something in his shoulder, and he swears he can feel the flesh tearing further, strained apart like the threads of a garment, stretched beyond breaking point.

In the end, BigB catches him unawares. A rather easy feat, considering he can’t see the other man.

He gasps at the feeling of a blade piercing his flesh, stumbles back – tries to stumble backwards, finds himself stuck on whatever weapon he’s just been impaled with. The weapon he can’t see, but his mind still registers the pain pain pain of a slow death. Still registers the blood blossoming around the puncture.

He can see his insides, vaguely and through a distorted lens. It warps, as though he should be seeing something other than the tearing of his blood vessels and his parted flesh. He can see organs you're not meant to see, curled around himself in the way that he is, can see the puncturing of these probably vital organs which is not a good sign for his continued survival. His flesh is darker than he thought it would be, and bleeds for far longer than he expects.

He lasts far longer than he expected, shallow breaths wheezing out of him as he crumples to the ground.

“Woah, hey,” hands he can’t see lay over his arms, the faint feeling of pressure against his skin the only thing his mind registers. He can see his skin indent where hands press against his forearms, idents that can only be created by hands holding onto him. Hands that he cannot, for some reason, see. “It’ll be over in a sec, I’m sure.”

Scott tilts his head back and allows himself a small groan. He’s bleeding out slowly and sluggishly, he thinks he can afford a singular moment of pain amongst this shitshow.

He almost reaches the point of asking BigB to just slit his throat when the room spins dizzying circles around him, and words are coming from an unseen mouth, unseen hands brushing up and down his arms in what is probably meant to be a reassuring gesture, but is actually just unnerving.

He chokes on the blood in his mouth, and wakes with it still coating his teeth.

=== === ===

“Do you want to get BigB again?” Martyn asks, turning to him with a gleam in his eyes.

Scott hasn’t decided whether he likes this new Martyn yet or not. The Martyn of earlier, with his listless expression and drifting thoughts was not fun to deal with nor exciting to observe, but the Martyn of the here and now, the Martyn with an anticipatory gleam in his eye and a pep in his step at the thought of killing someone else is also not reassuring.

“Not really,” he replies, as casually as he can. “I got my time back from him.”

“And you don't want more?”

“Uh, not really, no.” He and Martyn are alone right now, Impulse and Etho splitting off from their little group momentarily. He doubts they’ll join back together again, everyone’s clocks hanging far too low to trust someone you only made a temporary alliance with.

(For just a moment, Scott wishes they’d come back. Come and act as a buffer between him and the ally that he no longer recognises. The gleam in his eye is dangerous, it warns. A herald of what is to come. He considers, briefly, slipping away into the night and disappearing until his clock runs out of time. Until that last grain of sand in his hourglass slips through and buries him completely. He’s not sure he wants to see what will happen if it’s just him and Martyn. When it’s just him and Martyn.)

“Alright,” Martyn drags the word out, as though he doesn’t believe him. Maybe he doesn’t, with the red-blindness that seems to descend onto everyone at this point, looming over their shoulders like a particularly grim reminder. He can almost hear the clocks ticking down, beat by beat, moment by moment. “If you say so.”

“I do,” he says. “I do say so.”

Martyn considers him for another moment longer. Watches him with those red eyes that seem to hold nothing but calculations behind them. A measure of how long it would take to overpower someone, how long it would take to bleed them dry of their blood and their time. How many arrows to divert someone from their chosen path. How many swings of the sword before their time can be claimed, like the spoils after a hunt.

Scott hates it. Hates this. Hates what his friends become. Hates what it is – who it is – that makes them do it.

Martyn shrugs and turns away. His walk is casual, deceptively so. He moves quickly, off to kill whoever it is that he’s set his mind on. Possibly the Nosy Neighbours, eyes set on them as a target, like a dog with a bone, relentlessly gnawing on it as though that will force it to produce something more.

Ah, yes. That’s what it is.

Martyn watches him as though his heart no longer beats, as though he is nothing more than a chunk of flesh to be devoured for the benefit, what he might gain from it.

Scott walks in the opposite direction to Martyn and hopes, rather selfishly, that they don’t have to cross paths again.

=== === ===

All paths lead back to the clock. All lead back to the timer ticking down, hanging heavy over their heads and around their necks; a slowly tightening noose.

Perhaps it is fitting, then, with his clock at a negligible amount that they arrive at the Clock Tower. Built at the centre of their little world. Everything revolves around the clock, and the Clockers have made sure they cannot forget that.

The face of it peers down at them, despite Scott not being able to see it from where he stands now. He can feel it. Can feel the ticking of the hands, the shifting and grinding of the gears that allow it to turn. Will allow it to turn long after each of them is dead.

Martyn and Impulse watch each other warily, watch him warily. He watches them back, far less wary than either of them.

He can see how this plays out, can see the end already in the tight grip of a hand upon a sword. Can see the way such a hand refuses to release the last weapon he holds, refuses to give up his one advantage here. Can see how the hand hesitates when moving to unstrap his armour, to unbuckle the plates and let them fall loosely to the ground.

Scott undoes the strap in one unceremonious movement, only grimacing slightly at the clatter as it hits the ground, rolling uselessly around his feet.

Martyn watches him, suspicion misting his eyes. His hand continues to falter, resting over his heart and over his chestplate. One that has still to be removed. Impulse’s armour lays on the ground, too, scattered around in pieces as though he’d simply tossed it aside carelessly in his eagerness to get it off.

Scott tilts his head to the side, almost imperceptibly, watches the way Martyn tracks the tiny movement. The way Impulse does not.

There is a question in his eyes, one that he is not sure Martyn can read anymore. The Martyn of yesterday would have been able to. The Martyn that still cared to scrub his hands free of blood, the one that cared enough to clean beneath his nails, so not even the slightest speck of blood would continue to stain his hands.

The Martyn of today is not the one he has spent time getting to know better. He is not the one that could read a question in the tilt of his eyebrows or the squint of his eyes. He is not the one that would be able to read the question in his eyes right now, swimming just below the surface. Maybe Martyn reaches for that understanding he once had, but the explanation slips away easily, a fish disappearing beneath the surface once more.

So maybe he doesn’t read the implicit permission. The silent question that doesn’t need an answer. Because Martyn might not be able to read his eyes, might not be able to read anything from him at this point, but Scott can still read him. Can still see the plan in his eyes, the way it whirrs in his brain as he smooths out the crinkles and finalises it.

Still, despite Martyn’s plan being finalised, set in stone and ready to be carried out regardless of what anyone says, Scott gives him a small nod that he might not catch. A granting of permission. A better you than anyone else. Martyn might not understand it. May have lost the ability to read him entirely.

He still ends up with a sword through the heart, pulled out slowly, longingly. Blood coats the inside of his mouth, and when he coughs, feels it spilling over, it feels like a parting kiss.

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