aiwokure

[aiwokure]

★ ─── KILLSWITCH LULLABY . . . ( 02 )

warnings. cursing, toji vs parenting, in a world where toji actually takes care of baby gumi, gumi is at least 8 months old, non! sorcerer au, infant doctor! reader, toji uses the zenin clan name, but baby gumi is a fushiguro (takes after his mother).

note. i'm gonna leave it to your creativity to give your own cousin a name

-> series masterlist.

toji didn't know when the price of baby formula had spiked up — but in this economy? he wasn't even surprised, sighing out loudly in annoyance he eyed his groceries.

"take out the eggs," the male points out, and the cashier did exactly that; counting his groceries again.

still too much for him.

megumi was strapped on his chest with the same baby carrier he used in the clinic a few days ago, silently watching the cashier. thankfully enough, the store wasn't too crowded or he'd have people fussing behind him, "uh . . . y'can take out the bread."

"why not the baby formula? it costs the most." it was safe to say that the cashier clearly did not get paid enough for the job — and was the only person fussing in here, "you're holding up the line."

toji looks back to see nobody behind him, then he stares at the cashier. he swore that if megumi wasn't around, he'd beat the hell out of this person, "why don't you just do what the hell 'm telling you to do, because i have a fucking baby strapped to my chest — and if i take the baby formula out, the hell is he gonna eat?"

megumi squirmed on the carrier upon hearing his father's harsh tone, the two adult males staring into each other's eyes, obviously full of despise.

"and why don't we all move along? put everything back in, and charge the remaining funds into my card."

the two instinctively looked back, and there you stood. leaning your elbows on top of a trolley, the cashier undeniably scoffed — but he wasn't in a place to refuse your order, and so he did just that. toji on the other hand, was a little surprised to see you, megumi's doctor.

on the other hand, megumi was delighted, clapping his hands as his memories of you hazed back into his mind. toji watches carefully as you swipe your card onto the machine, tapping in your pin with ease. your swift movements is one he's jealous of, where he didn't have to hesitate to purchase things.

along the lines of that, you paid for your own groceries. grabbing the brown colored plastic bag with you, walking out of the store with toji beside you.

"uh . . . thanks. can i repay you in any way?" toji scratched his nape uncomfortably — ashamed that you had to step in and pay for his groceries.

"don't mention it, zenin. it's fine," you cheekily told him.

toji fished his phone out of his pocket, shoving it towards you, "give me y'r number, i'll pay you back when i have the money."

you shook your head, gently pushing the phone back, "it's okay, i swear," his brows furrowed further at your refusal — his digits slipping around your wrist as he slips in his phone inside your palm, "you know, if you wanted my number, you could've said so."

"what . . ? no." toji's blatant refusal made you laugh softly.

"'m kidding, and you don't have to return the money. i swear it's fine, zenin," his surname slipped out of your tongue, and there is one thing he hates more than his own parents — his own surname.

"just call me toji," he mutters out.

megumi gargled cutely, pointing his chubby finger at you, "hi baby gumi, you look fine — the effects of your vaccine's worn down already then, i guess?"

the infant giggled loudly, "yeah, it wasn't so bad. a little fever but it disappeared in a day," toji explains, palming megumi's head. the infant whining out in response, trying to gnaw on his father's hand.

"that's good to hear, then i'll see you next time? maybe." you slipped the phone back into his grasp, and toji grunted out softly, "bye baby gumi."

the word 'bye' didn't sit well with megumi — he reaches his hand out to you, making grabby motions. as if trying to tell you "don't go". toji eyed the teary eyed infant, immediately reaching his hand out to wrap his finger around the back of your collar.

"megumi's cryin'. don't go yet."

megumi cheered happily seeing as you were halted in place, clapping his hand, "and i'm the father," he grumbled under his breath — a little baffled at how his son seemed to be attached more to his doctor instead of his own father.

"give me your number." toji mutters out, he didn't know why he decided to say that, "i need . . . help with megumi's behavior, and i'll return your money once i have it."

you arched a brow, "i can do the baby gumi one, but the money? it's okay. it's on me," once again, toji slid his phone inside your palm.

toji shook his head, "i don't want to be in debt to my son's doctor. i'll return the money somehow," he replies, scratching the back of his head.

chuckling, you gave in to him (although partially because he kept on pushing and you still weren't going to accept his money), "fine, just know that i accept money based on my mood."

toji scoffs, "is that normal?"

"normal on my side," you replied, typing in your number and name.

the male heaved out a loud sigh, "i don't like being in debt," he muttered out, no matter how things get; toji's always made sure of one thing — to never borrow or let any other person pay for his things, "i'm trying to find a full time job, and once i have the money, i will pay you back."

"stop, think of this as an— an early christmas present, yes, that." you marveled, pointing your index finger at him, "an early christmas present for you and baby gumi."

toji clicked his tongue, "christmas is at least . . . eight months away."

"hence why i said an early christmas present!" you're not wrong.

"i don't know you like that for you to be giving my son and i an early christmas present," he retorts, rolling his eyes. megumi craning his head up to look at his father, "i don't even know what to call you . . ."

you shove your hand out, the brown colored plastic bag dangling just underneath your wrist, "i'm y/n l/n, since you insist on me calling you toji. y/n is fine, are we familiar enough now? we're on first name basis, and we've exchanged numbers. how familiar do we need to be for me to be able to give you and baby gumi early christmas presents?"

instead of toji, at the sight of your hand not too far in front of his face — megumi reaches his chubby fingers out to take your finger, "oh, see? your son agrees on this, don't you, sweet boy?"

it was completely repulsive at the fact megumi has warmed up to someone he just met a few days ago, and is seemingly more content to be around them more than someone who's spent eight months taking care of him. toji.

shaking your finger in front of the infant's face, your eyes lit up as if realization had dawned upon you, "hey, have you ever worked in food and beverage service?"

toji shook his head, "can't even cook for myself."

"how about working with people? customer service and those stuff," toji shook his head. he hated the customer service more than anything — having to deal with ugly personalities every single second. frankly, he'd rather deal with a hundred megumi instead of childish adults, "cashier work? behind the bar work? like a barista?"

"been a cashier at a grocery store, got fired 'cause of customers complaints about him," toji looks down at megumi who was fiddling with your index finger happily.

"no babysitters?"

toji shook his head.

"family members?"

again, he shook his head, "'ts just me and megumi."

"oh." you pulled your finger back, "my cousin owns a cafe near my clinic, he was looking for more employees and all — i'll ask him if it's still available if you want."

toji swallowed the non-existent lump in his throat, "thanks."

"you must be toji, oh my god, y/n told me so much about you last night — not really, but yes. they told me some things about you," a male, approximately in his twenties, judging by his looks, gushes out, wiping his hands onto the beige colored apron he has on before walking over the bar and towards where both you and toji stood.

"that's me," toji replies, a little unfamiliar with the sunshine and rainbows the male was emitting.

"and this must be megumi. oh, he's so adorable, how old is he? a year? six months?" the male bombarded, a little giddy.

"eight months."

"you're hired." toji almost choked on his saliva hearing the male's sudden statement — this isn't how a normal job interview works at all, is it? or has he been going to the wrong interviews? he shot a look towards you, "on one condition . . ."

you were just standing beside toji, unmoving, stealthily smiling, "just go along with him, he's always like this," toji hears you whisper.

"in every shift, you bring this little guy with you."

this time toji actually does choke on his saliva, breaking into a string of coughs, "megumi? but— how is that normal? how is this normal? don't i have to do an interview or anything?"

the male chuckles, shaking his head, "we don't do things like that here, i do it my way. you're hired with a side note that little gumi here comes along every time, deal?"

" . . . is this real? are you real?"

you held back a laugh, and your cousin— the male — did not hold back his laughter as well as you did, and so the cafe was filled with the melody of his laugh, "this is real, all real. so deal or no deal?"

as much as he wants to believe in this, it was too good to be true. all throughout his past job experiences — never once did toji ever meet a boss who's so willing to let him bring megumi along. if not his boss, it's the customer.

apparently, it's not "professional" enough.

"uh yeah, of course . . . deal," it's not like he had the money to hire a babysitter anyways.

"good, good. come by tomorrow for training, yeah?" toji felt a double pat on his shoulder, "i'm (cousin), i'm thirty-two years old. we're technically family and i'm megumi's unrelated uncle now."

"thirty-two?" toji asks out in reflex.

you smiled at him, "he looks young, doesn't he? he's actually married— with two kids. they live in another city not too far from here, so they only come over during the holidays when his wife gets a work leave."

"thought he was in his twenties," toji replies.

"i get that a lot, not to brag. it's the skincare doing its job, y'know?" (cousin) clicks his tongue, "plus, you look young too. how old are you? twenty four?"

"seven." toji corrected.

"how old do you think they are?" (cousin) juts his chin out towards your figure, "two guesses. if you get it right, choose anything you want on the menu for you— and yoghurt for little gumi. it's on me."

you laugh, throwing your head back slightly, "so? go on."

toji eyes you, narrowing his eyes, "twenty-two?" he guesses.

"oh, good guess. close enough," (cousin) replies, leaning his hand on the bar, propping his cheek to the palm of his hand, "one more shot."

"twenty-four?"

"close. they're twenty-six." (cousin) shrugs, "i'm starting to think it's not the skincare y/n, i think it's our genes."

you shrug, "maybe."

"doesn't matter, choose anything you want, it's on me. it's a welcoming mini party for you and little gumi, yeah?"

toji huffed out in amusement, "'ts fine. i can get food out later."

"nonsense. go on, choose something. or a couple of things, it's on me."

"do i get a mini party too?" you chime in, leaning over the bar top, "i mean — i am your favorite in the family, right?"

"you get full price, y/n."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[aiwokure]

[aiwokure]

Day 2 - Frozen Lake

Nico Robin x F!Reader

Desc: Young!Robin convinces Young![y/n] to try ice skating for the first time. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

WC: 1.1k

CW: Robin and Reader are around 18-19 years old, slightly toxic relationship, death mentions, slightly suggestive ending

continuation of this: [click here]

other december writing challenge fics [click here]

banner by @/cafekitsune

Snow sprinkled down on the island and chattering voices could be heard from every crevice. Robin, currently wearing sunglasses and an aviator hat, is awestruck by the winter wonderland. [y/n] could sense her partner’s growing excitement, mainly due to the fact that she’s become nonreactive. “Hello? Doctor? We have an unresponsive patient here under the name of Nico Robin. Permission to restrict smooches?”

The dark haired woman shoots [y/n] a slightly annoyed look, unlacing their fingers so that she can cross her arms. “Oh, like it’s such a crime to take in the scenery. I was just making sure it’s safe, that’s all.” She lies with ease, lips pursed in faux disapproval. “Uh huh, sure. Let’s go find someplace to stay, then we can look around and do whateverrr you want.” [y/n] is quick to socialize with the locals, she’s always been the better one between her and Robin.

In their spare time together, the mercenary forces Robin to take “classes” on bargaining. Unfortunately, [y/n] isn’t a good teacher, her temper gets the best of her when Robin continues to make mistakes. However when she finally gets it right, the reward makes the archaeologist feel nice and warm inside. “Stay here, I’ll see what I can get us.” [y/n] enters the inn, after giving her instruction, leaving Robin to take in her environment.

Kids running around with cold noses playing in the snow, adults sitting in sheltered areas sharing warm drinks (possibly alcohol by how rambunctious they’re getting), and oh, young lovers skating together on a frozen lake, all smiles and giggles. Envy threatened to bubble up in her heart, [y/n] is not exactly a lover of winter activities, she would never agree to something like ice skating.

Click!

A light bulb goes off as bright as a summer’s sun in Robin’s brain, and about five minutes later, [y/n] exits with a satisfied smile. “We’re sharing a suite. It comes with a kitchen, so we can prepare some meals for when we’re back at sea.” Robin was less interested in the room and more interested at the thought of going ice skating. She hasn’t been in such a long time, it would bring her so much inner joy to experience it once more, even if it’s only for a few seconds.

“[y/n], let’s go ice skating.” The [h/c] woman gives her a confused glance. “Can’t you just go by yourself? I’ll have the suite set up and dinner made when you come back.” Robin huffs, grabbing some of the luggage before spinning around to return the look with an unwavering stare. “How about I help you set up, we go ice skating, then make dinner together?” [y/n] can feel the confusion quickly churn into annoyance at her partner’s insistence.

“What the hell are you going on about? You know I don’t do stuff like that.”

“You said we can do, quote ‘whateverrr you want’, I want to go ice skating with you. Just for a few minutes! It’s rare that we get the chance to be normal like this, don’t you want to cherish it? After this I won’t ask for anything else, I promise.” Robin begins to plead, her grip tightening on the luggage the more passionate that she got.

[y/n] hesitates, it’s even more rare for the archaeologist to get so worked up about something so menial. She heaves a big sigh, willing her annoyance to go away. She is, after all, a woman of her word.

“Fine, only a few minutes. Now let’s get this inside.” Seeing Robin’s face glow with joy made [y/n] feel guilty about being rough with her, but it also made her crave seeing it more often.

“You can hold onto me, I’ll make sure that you don’t fall. You have to activate your core! Don’t put too much pressure on your ankles or they’ll be achy later.” Robin spouts instructions and advice with rapid fire, hovering near [y/n] as she wobbles warily on the icy floor. “Please stop talking,” the mercenary grunts, gripping the rails with startling strength. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t- the raven haired woman repeats like a mantra in her head.

The confident and skillful [y/n] is shaking like a newborn fawn on nature’s ice rink. It’s certainly something the locals got a chuckle out of. A little boy skates by smoothly, spinning around to look at the duo. “Big sis, did you know that last year someone fell and they broke the ice, so everyone had to leave the lake, but some people didn’t move fast enough, and they fell in, so my daddy jumped in to re-resc-rescue them, and he almost died.”

He sighs sympathetically at the end of his story, lips down turned at the memory. “Oh yeah?” [y/n] grits out, more focused on regaining balance than some random brat. “Yeah…” the boy confirms, shoulders drooping before he perks back up. “So don’t fall okay? I still have to ask Jayce to be my friend!” Robin couldn’t help the laughter that built up in the back of her throat.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her so that you can befriend Jayce.” She chuckles while consoling the young boy, her arm was wrapped snugly around [y/n]’s waist. “Oversharing is a child’s specialty, no?” Robin looks over at her partner, an amused yet adoring grin on her lips. “Whatever, let’s just get off this ice so his dear daddy doesn’t die for real.” The mercenary’s teeth were faintly chattering, ears and nose stinging from the cold.

“Thank you for doing this with me. I appreciate it a lot.” Robin swoops in to place a warm kiss on [y/n]’s forehead, but in that moment, someone crashed into her. A yelp escapes her lips, as does her balance as she leans heavily into the [h/c] haired woman, who didn’t have any to begin with. They land roughly on the ice in a jumbled pile, Robin’s face flush against [y/n]’s chest. “Fuckin’ hell!”

Robin gently rubs the back of [y/n]’s head, the ice pack resting on the counter. “M’sorry… I was feeling nostalgic when I saw the rink and I wanted to experience that joy again with the person I like.” The raven haired woman confesses, tucking herself under her partner’s chin. She could feel the vibration of [y/n] humming in acknowledgment. They laid tangled up amongst each other on the couch, Robin currently being the little spoon.

“It’s okay, it was kinda fun I guess.” [y/n] responds before repositioning herself to hover above the archaeologist. “I liked seeing you in your element. Sorry for being a bit of a hardass earlier today.” She places a loving kiss on the tip of Robin’s nose, then another on her lips, her hand starting to creep up Robin’s sweater. “Let me make it up to you?” [y/n] asks seductively, shifting down so that she was between the dark haired woman’s legs.

Her hand gently caressed Robin’s lower tummy, triggering a swarm of butterflies as well as a feeling of longing. The archaeologist flushed a beautiful red, sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth. “Okay.”

[aiwokure]

Day 1 - Baking

Nico Robin x F!Reader, F!Reader & Sanji

Desc: [y/n] attempts to bake a “Sorry for trying to kill you cake” for Robin with the help of resident Loverboy Sanji - shenanigans ensue.

WC: 1.4k

CW: Possibly OOC Sanji, Attempts at Humor, Sanji is very passionate about his job, slight Perv!Sanji

continuation of this - [click here]

banner by @/cafekitsune

This is so stupid… [y/n] sighs after checking for the umpteenth time that Robin and Nami were asleep before leaving the room and heading to the kitchen. The hallways were dimly lit and the ship rocked gently with the waves, as if to soothe her racing thoughts. When she arrived at the galley, the (now retired) mercenary couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow at the excessive amount of locks on the fridge and pantry. “Well, so much for that I guess.” [y/n] mumbles to herself, preparing to exit.

The (h/c) woman didn’t even turn around fully before Sanji bursts into the kitchen. His leg was raised with smoke coming off the bottom of his shoes, eyes promising death. “I told you that if I catch you in here again I’d-!” A moment of silence was shared between the two, [y/n]’s was bewildered confusion, and Sanji’s was utter humiliation. Red slowly crept up his neck all the way to his hairline as he quickly put his leg down and motioned towards her.

Every step the blond took forward, [y/n] took two back. “Is threatening medical patients a common thing here or did I miss some memo?” Sanji tugs on the roots of his hair in distress, a garbled noise sneaking past his throat. Upon realizing how foolish he looked from physically displaying his mental state, the chef straightens himself out by fixing his hair and clearing his throat. He then, in a much more composed tone, responds.

“My sincerest apologies m’lady, there’s been a certain pest,” Sanji’s ire was clear as day, his jaw slightly clenched at the mere memory of Luffy attempting to squeeze past the chains, “that loves to pillage through the pantry at night.” [y/n] hums, mildly intrigued but not enough to ask for more details. “How fortunate for you that I’m no pirate then, hm? I do need these unlocked though.” She nods to the locked pantry and fridge.

“Oh! If you’re hungry I can whip you up something, anything that you want! I can’t allow such a beautiful woman like yourself to do labor. Even more so with your injuries.” Sanji moves swiftly, beginning hygienic preparations so he can cook. [y/n] flusters faintly at his eagerness, but even more so at telling him her true intentions.

It was already strange having the crew be so accommodating and kind to her despite her attempt on Robin’s life.

“No, uh, I’m not hungry, thank you.” The blond stills, turning in disarray. There was a secondary moment of silence, [y/n] growing more awkward at watching Sanji try to figure out why she was in the galley. “So...is there anything that I can help you with?” Fiddling with the edge of the counter, [y/n] finally confesses. “I, um, wanted to bake a cake. For Robin. An apology cake for the whole ‘gonna kill you’ thing.”

Sanji’s expression grows comically serious, a hand on his chin as he nods in understanding. “Fear not, [y/n]-san, I’ll be your culinary knight and create a cake that not only apologizes but also conveys the feelings of your heart!” He gestures with flourish, spinning around the kitchen with such fervor while unlocking the chains. “How...lovely.” [y/n] began to regret her decision once she saw smokey hearts floating around the kitchen.

“Have you thought of the design? Maybe something floral? How about multi-tiered? Maybe it should be blue like her eyes.” The more the blond swooned, the more agitated [y/n] felt herself get. "Let's keep it simple, chef. A classic round cake with a neat frosting layer. Nothing too flashy; just a straightforward apology cake."

Sanji hummed with consideration, “Sorry, I’d nearly forgotten it was for that. Keeping it simple. As for you, mon cher, take a seat and watch the magic happen. I work better with a lady audience.” He ushers the [h/c] woman out of the cooking area, much to her displeasure. [y/n] tried to vocalize as such until Sanji – as kindly as possible – reminded her of her injury and how “baking takes a lot of wrist work” along with other excuses.

Watching the chef work efficiently and silently turned out to be quite soothing for the ex-mercenary. His little songs that he would hum and the various shapes his smoke would make was entertaining enough to keep [y/n]’s mind off of Robin’s potential reaction to the cake. “So, you knew Robin when you guys were younger huh? What was that like?” Sanji tentatively breaks the silence after placing the cake in the oven.

He offers the batter bowl as payment for [y/n]’s thoughts, which she took. “I don’t remember all the finer details, but she was definitely a little brat. And she wasn’t nearly as good at disguising herself as she is now – which honestly still isn’t that much better. We explored a lot, experienced lots of different cultures. When we were together, I felt like there wasn’t anything that we couldn’t do. I guess that’s why I was so angry at what she did. And to see that she had moved on only infuriated me more.” “It was as if she didn’t trust me to keep her safe, despite everything that I’ve done…” [y/n] thinks back briefly on the bounty hunter and other unfortunate victims that she came across during her journey with Robin. “Sorry if you were expecting a lighthearted story, but ours ended far from sweet.” Sanji shrugs a shoulder in a carefree manner. “We all have are stories, I understand. Hows the batter?” [y/n] gives a small smirk which gets the blond’s heart racing. “Delicious. This will definitely, what did you say again, ‘convey the feelings of your heart’?”

The chef grows further enamored, having been blessed with seeing parts of [y/n]’s personality sneak out. “I’m, uh, gonna go check on the cake. I-It’s probably done by now!” Legs growing weak at the sight of fluttery [e/c] eyes, and nose tingling with the threat of blood, Sanji wills himself to keep it under control.

(In the very deep crevice of his mind, he couldn’t help but to imagine what it would be like to be sandwiched between both Robin and [y/n]. A perv is a perv after all.)

The following morning [y/n] was so fidgety even Luffy can sense it. She couldn’t figure out how to present the cake. Or how to bring up the apology at all, honestly. Robin had seemed so content with just being in her space again that she hesitates to bring up something so heavy. But Sanji keep looking at the [h/c] woman expectantly, brow raised in curiosity.

Chopper became concerned, convinced that [y/n] was still in discomfort from her injuries and was trying to play nonchalant. He offered pain medication, which she refused, to which he responded by placing her on bed rest. Robin chuckled faintly at the exchange, averting her gaze from the scathing [e/c] glare. Dammit, if I’m stuck in bed all day, I’ll never be able to give her the cake… “Doctor, I feel fine, I was just a little in my head about something.” [y/n] attempted to bargain with the reindeer, who briefly stopped to hear her out.

“About what?” “About this!” Sanji exits the kitchen dramatically, cake in hand as he spins around towards the table Robin is sitting at. “For you, mademoiselle.” He gently places the cake down before her with a professional bow. “Hm? ‘Sorry I tried to kill you, that was very immature of me. - [y/n]’ It even has a little drawing, how cute.” Robin’s blue eyes were glowing with amusement, watching her old friend screech in horror.

“I wasn’t ready you damn chef! And why in hell’s name is there a drawing?! I thought we agreed on simple!” Sanji tuts in disapproval, "Ah, [y/n]-san, a simple cake may convey the message, but a grand cake will etch it into her heart forever. I didn’t just make a cake; I crafted a masterpiece that reflected the depth of your feelings." The ex-mercenary could feel the heat rolling off of her face in waves, her jaw was clenched so tight they nearly creaked from the pressure.

Robin coos at [y/n]’s extremely obvious embarrassment, a teasing smile on her lips. “You didn’t have to do all of this, but I do appreciate the gesture, even if it came at your own detriment.” [y/n] eyes the archaeologist hesitantly, as if she doubted Robin’s words. Surely life endangerment isn’t something that should be forgiven so easily, correct? Surely she should have done more than ask for a damn cake to be made, something like swearing to servitude for the rest of her life.

I guess that shows how much she really does like me, huh? Idiot... [y/n] nearly choked on her spit at the realization, a hand shooting up to cover her face which blatantly advertised her thoughts. Steam puffed off the top of her head in the shape of the same foolish hearts that Sanji made the night prior. “I-I’m glad.”

[aiwokure]

BYI/Masterlist

I don't care if minors interact with my sfw post, but please do not interact with my nsfw post. I know that realistically you're gonna read whatever you want, but please respect the simple boundary of not liking/reblogging/commenting on my nsfw posts.

I appreciate the follows, I would follow back but this is a side blog and I don't feel comfortable interacting on my personal, just know that I deeply appreciate it, and will respond to any comments.

I'm currently writing as a small hobby, I don't have a lot of free time, hence why I'm not taking requests as of right now. I hope that you can enjoy what I put out as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Banners by @/cafekitsune

Fandoms I will write for

Hajime no Ippo

One Piece

Haikyuu

Fire Force

Baki

Bleach

Blue Exorcist

more to be added...

god hear my plea - Nico Robin x Fem!Reader

December Writing Challenge 2023 [Nico Robin x F!Reader] - ongoing

December Writing Challenge by @/aerynwrites

[aiwokure]

December Writing Challenge

Firstly, I would like to express my joy in the amount of people that liked my fic. Admittedly, I considered turning it into a full-blown story, but I knew I would get burned out quickly. However I do want to write more about our [y/n]/Robin duo {with some added Strawhat Crew interactions} in order to expand more on their history and dynamic together. So imagine my delight when I stumbled upon a December Writing challenge [credits go to @/aerynwrites] that I’d like to partake in. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to upload every day since I work full-time and go to school part-time, but I hope that everyone who sees my fics enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. Sorry for the lengthy note, without further ado, here’s the current list.

Day 1 – Baking [click here]

[y/n] attempts to bake a “Sorry for trying to kill you cake” for Robin with the help of resident Loverboy Sanji - shenanigans ensue.

Day 2 – Frozen Lake

Young!Robin convinces Young![y/n] to try ice skating for the first time. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Day 3 – Hot Chocolate

The Straw Hat Crew is passing by a wintry patch of the Grand Line, [y/n], Robin, and Nami bond over hot cocoa.

Day 4 – Cozy Cabin

[N/A]

Day 5 – Fire Places

[N/A]

Day 6 – Blanket Fort

Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp manage to rope [y/n] into building a blanket fort with them.

Day 7 – Catching a Cold

Young![y/n] gets sick, Young!Robin isn’t good at taking care of her.

Day 8 – Snowed In

[N/A]

Day 9 – Sledding

Luffy and Usopp wants to use Chopper to pull their sled, as the reindeer voices his humiliation, [y/n] is brought back to her own sledding experience.

Day 10 – Winter Market

The Straw Hat crew is making a stop at a winter island, [y/n] and Zoro are paired together to run errands.

Day 11 – Snowball Fight

A Straw Hat Crew snowball fight that [y/n] is inevitably dragged into when Robin intentionally hits her in the face.

Day 12 – Lonely

The parallels of both Young![y/n] and Young!Robin’s journey without the other after Robin’s betrayal.

Day 13 – Warm Bath

[y/n] “helps” Robin in the bath, things get a bit heated.

Day 14 – Homemade Meal/Cooking

Sanji makes a dish at Robin’s request, and while it’s good, it doesn’t taste like [y/n]’s.

Day 15 – Sleigh Ride

After having experienced the ‘Sled Incident’, [y/n] decides that a sleigh ride might be better. Robin finds it quite romantic.

Day 16 – Mistletoe

Sanji hangs up a mistletoe in hopes of finally getting a chance with one of the girls.

Day 17 – Gingerbread

Young!Robin and Young![y/n] accidentally brings a gingerbread man to life.

Day 18 – Sunsets

[N/A]

Day 19 – Movie Nights

[N/A]

Day 20 – Hiking

[N/A]

Day 21 – Sweaters

Robin is exposed for taking [y/n]’s sweater, however when she goes to get it, it’s missing.

Day 22 – Unique Traditions

[N/A]

Day 23 – Proposal

[y/n] does something that has Robin considering marriage in the near future.

Day 24 – Holiday Traffic

[N/A]

Day 25 – Lazy Mornings

[N/A]

Day 26 – Furry Friends

Young!Robin is not jealous of the stray mutt following Young![y/n] around.

Day 27 – Roasting Marshmallows

[N/A]

Day 28 – Huddle for Warmth

Thousand Sunny’s heating system breaks down, Robin suggests skin-to-skin contact which [y/n] is more than enthused to try.

Day 29 – Holiday Lights

Young![y/n] and Young!Robin watch the holiday lanterns together in solitude.

Day 30 – Fireworks

[y/n] and Robin watch the fireworks together, at the finale, Robin makes a move.

Day 31 – Wild Card

[N/A]

[aiwokure]

god hear my plea

Nico Robin x F!Reader

Desc: Robin’s history of abandoning people rears its ugly head full with vengeance.

WC: 5.6k

CW: descriptions of violence, hints of toxic relationships, reader commits murder, mentions of injuries, mentions of death, young Robin is slightly bratty, reader wears makeup, slight suggestive content if you squint, possibly ooc Robin - it is acknowledged though

banner by @/cafekitsune

“Wow! Look at that island, it’s covered in gold! Cool!” Luffy is leaning against the railing of Sunny, eyes sparkling with the urge to explore. Nami hums in acknowledgment, “This island is Goldenleaf, there’s not much known about it though…” Her eyebrows furrow slightly, based off of the weather it seemed to be an autumn island, a little humid but otherwise perfect. As the ship neared the bustle of life could be heard, citizens unbothered by the newcomers.

Robin peers up from her book at the familiar name, Goldenleaf. “There’s a resort towards the center of the island with amazing commodities. They should also be having a festival currently.” The ginger nearly squeals with delight at the thought of relaxing at a resort. Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy were more intrigued about the festival than anything. Sanji raises his visible brow, taking away Robin’s empty cup before asking, “Did you read about that in one of your books?”

A small smile graces Robin’s lips, but it was tinged with melancholy. “I visited this island once before, a long time ago. It’s fairly safe and the residents are kind.” Her blue eyes began to grow distant, lost in thought - well memories.

As soon as the boat was docked, Luffy and co. (Chopper, Usopp, Brook) take off to partake in festivities and adventure. Nami gives Zoro his allowance, feeling kind after realizing that she would be able to finally relax without having to deal with idiots. Her and Robin walk through the city, Sanji trailing behind to be their bag boy. “Everything here is so beautiful, the food smells lovely too.” The ginger is practically drooling causing Robin to chuckle. “That scent is the Autumn Fruit Tarts if I’m not mistaken, they’re delicious when paired with cinnamon vanilla ice cream.”

Sanji perks up, feeling inspired to make the pastry when they return to Sunny. “Do you know of any other -“ The chef immediately stops speaking, blood threatening to spill from his nose. A goddess, she has to be! (e/c) hues gazed at the passing group, icy and unkind, but Sanji didn’t care, blinded by his rose tinted glasses. The woman walks away, disappearing into the crowd before the blond could follow her in his love tornado.

“Earth to Sanji? Hellooo?” Nami is visibly annoyed by his antics, just barely resisting the urge to concuss him with her staff. “A-Ah yes Nami-chwan?!” “I said we’re going to the hot springs so stop following us, although you were practically about to do that anyways.” Robin is quiet, deep in thought once more. That smell was so familiar… I wonder from where. The archaeologist is well traveled, so naturally while some things may jog her memory, they’re usually overtaken by the new (and admittedly less traumatizing) ones.

Robin pulls her hat further down, trying to cover her face. She was 17, and while she was used to being on the run now, she was by no means an expert. Rushing through the crowd, she accidentally bumps into someone causing both parties to fall backwards. The raven haired girl panics, eyeing her hat on the ground being trampled. “Keep looking! She can’t be far!” The sound of pirates trudging towards her edge closer every passing second. She had overestimated herself. “Ah… you too huh? Let’s go.”

A[n] (s/c) hand reaches out for Robin, yanking her in a random direction, she barely manages to scoop up her hat in the process. “That fuckin’ bitch, where did she go?” Robin’s heart is racing, but she urges herself to run faster, releasing her hand from the stranger. “This way dummy!” The stranger, another young teen, harshly whispers while catapulting over a stack of boxes and into the alleyway. Robin furrows her brows in annoyance at the name calling but skids to a stop regardless in order to change her direction.

“I’m not dumb.” She states plainly, blue eyes steely with mistrust. Laughter bubbles up from the stranger who raises her eyebrow in skepticism. “Ya sure about that, Miss Nico Robin? At least change your hair color or something.” The (h/c) haired girl is quick to dodge the arms that sprout in an attempt to strangle her. “Woah, easy now, I just saved you from getting captured. Besides we’re kind of in the same boat anyways…” She muttered the last part more to herself but Robin still picked it up.

“Who are you? What do you want? Why did you help me?” “Enoouugh enough, I don’t need a barrage of questions, Nico Robin. Name’s (y/n) (y/l/n).” (y/n) stretches the ache out of her back. “I don’t particularly want anything from you, is it so bad to do a good deed every once in awhile?”

“We’re pirates.”

“No, you are a pirate, Nico Robin, I’m simply traveling.” Robin rolled her eyes, this girl was getting on her nerves, but the banter felt natural, comforting even, in some weird way. “Just Robin is fine. Stop saying my entire name.” (y/n) pretends to contemplate on it before an annoying grin takes over. “Nah, it pisses you off so I like it, Nico Robin.”

This girl was definitely going to get strangled by yours truly.

“Well, you can either come with me to the next island and we split or you can stay here and figure out how to not get caught by that mob out there.” Furrowing her brows, Robin stares at the (s/c) teen, obviously not too fond of her but also not wanting to pass up the opportunity to live another day. Then she recalled the earlier statement made. “You said you were in the same situation as me, how do I know that going with you won’t be even more dangerous?”

“Because I kill all my enemies.”

A chill shot straight down Robin’s spine, she hadn’t exactly killed yet, more like incapacitated and ran. She did what was necessary to survive, if she didn’t have to kill she wouldn’t. “I accidentally missed some stragglers though, but next time I won’t.” (y/n) notices the unsettled look on the raven’s face, letting out a sigh and fiddling with her (h/c) hair. “I don’t uh, consider you my enemy if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re in good hands if you choose to go with me, scouts honor.”

Blue eyes bore deeply into (e/c) ones, (y/n) was fairly easy to read, much to Robin’s surprise. “You must be lonely huh? That’s what you meant by ‘same boat’.” Her defenses immediately dropped upon witnessing the flustered expression erupting on (y/n)’s face as she continues to shout out denials and curses. “I don’t want you to come with me anymore! Stay!” Robin chuckles, lacing her hands behind her back and walking towards the pier. “No thanks, I rather like getting under your skin (y/n) (y/l/n).” She replies cheekily, looking over her shoulder with a smirk. “You coming?”

The hot spring was relaxing, despite the fact that it was water, for some reason devil fruit users weren’t affected. A phenomenon that intrigued Robin but she figured it was just native to the island. Golden maple leaves fluttered into the spring, some of them landing on the floating food trays. “This is amazing.” Nami moans, leaning against the rocks and sinking further down in bliss. “The festivities should be starting soon if you want to walk around and partake. We have some clothes specifically for the Harvest Festival that you can wear.” The resort hostess informs the lady duo, a gentle smile on her red lips.

Honey brown eyes light up like a child’s on Christmas, so far Nami had been loving the island. She wanted to experience as much as possible before they would have to leave. The log pose resets in 2 days, but the navigator will be sure to buy an eternal one. “Let’s go?” Nami questions with puppy eyes, warming up Robin’s heart. She truly was like a younger sister Robin never knew she wanted. “Of course. Can we see the festival wear?”

Luffy and Usopp were having an apple bobbing competition while natives fawned over Chopper, showing him sparklers and feeding him candied apples. The reindeer was flustered but loved the attention, unable to hide the flowers floating around him with a pink aura. Brook is constantly getting mistaken for a decoration, but he doesn’t mind too much, instead opting to perform with the other musicians.

He briefly stopped playing his violin after an unsettling sensation settled in his gut (not that he has one, so bones?). He scans the crowd, feeling like he was being watched with malicious intent. Fleeting in his peripheral vision was a (color) kimono sleeve, and the discomfort faded. He had just missed the culprit. “Hey Skeleton, is everything alright?” The other musicians look at him with concern etched into their faces.

“Yes, I was distracted by some beautiful women over there, yohohoho!” He lied, not wanting to ruin the vibes, after all Robin said that the island is safe.

Well, fairly.

Nami and Robin are fitted into beautiful yukata with maple leaves printed on them, their hair are placed in traditional buns with different floral pins to hold it up. Once again Robin is fairly quiet and deep in thought, it starts to worry the ginger, but she silences the urge to nag. Nami grabs Robin’s hand, pulling her from contemplation and towards the food stalls. “I wanna try the fruit tarts you mentioned earlier.” On the way, the ladies cross paths with Luffy and Usopp, both drenched with water.

Zoro somehow managed to make his way around, drawn by the smell of grilled fish and the sound of music. Franky is entertaining the children with his hair tricks while Sanji is losing a concerning amount of blood over Nami and Robin’s new clothes. “You both look so lovely, I wish that I could capture this moment forever~!” Civilians stare at the blond warily, not used to seeing such copious amounts of blood leave a human body.

The typical shenanigans ensue, starting with Zoro name calling the cook as Chopper hurries to grab emergency blood bags from his pack. Amidst all of this, Robin felt as if she was being watched. She refused to dismiss it, but when glancing around she couldn’t find anything that would give away her newfound stalker.

The following day rolls around, Robin is up fairly early and decides to walk around the city. It’s a little chilly and foggy out as she makes her way towards a cafe, wanting to try their morning special, a Maple Pecan Latte. She sits at one of the outdoor tables despite the chill. If her hunch was right, the stalker would take the opportunity she granted to them. About twenty minutes into her book and halfway through her drink does the chair in front of her lose its vacancy.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Nico Robin in the flesh.” The familiar scent from the day before is back, alongside a whole wave of memories that weren’t really forgotten but tucked away in order to avoid the guilt. “(y/n)…” Robin barely managed to breathe out, placing her book down and staring properly at her old partner in crime. The (s/c) woman no longer wore the mischievous grin with a sly sparkle in her eyes like when they were young. Her eyes were dull, nearly lifeless. A scar decorated her forehead and her jaw was set, clearly Robin was an enemy now.

“You sure are living it up, playing family and going on adventures with those misfits. Flaunting your location without a care in the world now that you feel free. Yet you were so quick to dispose of me the moment you almost got caught.” The archaeologist tried to remain calm on the outside, but on the inside her heart was racing and riddled with guilt and nostalgia. Many years ago she was not the woman that she is today.

She wasn’t nearly as mature, and she knows that she has hurt many people - some who didn’t deserve it at all. When she joined the Strawhat Pirates, she made a vow to herself to constantly be better than she was the day before. Luffy had given her a second chance at life, she wanted to honor that commitment. The things she did would never be erased, but as long as she continued to bring positivity into the world and correct the wrongs, she would forgive herself.

A gentle smile tugs on Robin’s lips, sullen but also full of endearment. (y/n) was still just as easy to read as she was over 10 years ago. Despite how silent she was, deep in those (e/c) eyes were rage, but also the same bittersweet nostalgia. “How have you been? Did you ever accomplish your dream of (insert dream)?” (y/n) remains unchanging, actually more aggravated with the attempt at casual conversation. Robin maintains her smile, closing the book completely and taking a sip of her lukewarm latte.

“Have you come to kill me?”

(y/n) huffs out a sardonic laugh, yet her expression is not amused, “You’re a real piece of shit you know that, right?” Robin licks her lips, taking a breath, “Yes, I know. I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you. I was young and selfish, I didn’t care what happened to those who weren’t of use to me back then.”

It has been nearly two years since Robin and (y/n) started traveling together. They talked about dreams of the future, what island they’d like to settle down on after chasing their goals. What started off as an unconventional partnership turned into one in which they trusted each other with their lives. Robin was the strategist and the navigator, (y/n) was the cook and the bargainer but also the muscle when necessary.

“I’m serious, you need to put on a mask or something, you’re too noticeable.” (y/n) complained, braiding Robin’s hair into a convenient updo. The black haired woman just hums, soothed by the repetitive motion that lightly scratches her scalp. “Okay I’m done. You wanna look?” Robin shakes her head, “Anything you do always looks good.” They arrive at a winter island, and albeit reluctant, Robin ties a bandanna around the lower half of her face.

(y/n) gives her an approving smile that warms her up inside. At some point they had past the point of friendship but not quite yet lovers. It was something like a puppy love, they would exchange heated kisses and cuddle but never went much further than that, much to (y/n)’s dismay. “How long is it gonna take for the log pose to reset?”

“Just a few hours, enough to get some shopping done.” Robin tries to flutter her eyelashes at (y/n) who is unamused but lets it slide anyway. “We have to do errands first before shopping, okay?” After discussing who would do what and where to meet in case of emergency, the duo split. Robin went to go search for camping equipment, as she entered the store she began to feel slightly overwhelmed.

The shop was dimly lit with flickering lights that made it hard to focus on the task at hand. It was cramped with a lot of people bustling around, looking at different tents or sleeping bags. Hands growing slightly clammy, she pulls the bandana further up her face and begins looking at equipment herself. The constant getting shoved into was rattling her nerves as well as making the bandana slip. A loud crash followed by some screaming had triggered Robin so badly that her world seemed to spin on it’s head. Momentarily, the smell of smoke invaded her nose, clawing down her throat and choking her violently.

It may have been years since the destruction of her hometown, but the trauma still lives deep inside of her. The crash was revealed to have been a shelf collapsing, patrons yelping in surprise at the sudden clatter of camping gear dumping onto them. Having already been run ragged and on the verge of an anxiety attack, Robin rushes out of the shopping district and yanks the bandana down, struggling to get her breathing in order.

“Young lady, are you alright?” Stiffening up, she quickly pulls up the bandana, but the man releases a raspy chuckle. They stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time, what could have been mere seconds felt like an eternity. The man pretends to be fixing his coat before pulling out Robin’s wanted poster. Ice trickled through her veins at the sight, of course the moment she lets her guard down she’s found out. “Unfortunately you’re a bit too late, ‘demon child’. Turn yourself in nice and easy if you want to live. You know, you’re worth quite a lot now for an old bounty hunter like me.” She couldn’t budge an inch, just from the way the man stared at her, she knew any sudden movement meant death.

“Run!”

The bounty hunter lets out a vicious grunt, grabbing his thigh which had been stabbed by the edge of a broken glass bottle. (y/n) swings her arm upwards, bottle in hand and aiming for the man’s throat. He takes a step back, teeth gritted in annoyance. “You goddamn-” The hunter braces his arms to deflect (y/n)’s kick, however he wasn’t prepared for the powerful knock back nor the foot that sprouted behind him causing him to trip and fall.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I-” Robin attempted to explain herself as they ran, gathering the attention of pedestrians around them. “It’s fine, we just have to get the hell out of here! Did he hurt you?” (y/n) didn’t look at the black haired woman, focused on finding the quickest path to safety. Before the question could be answered, a gunshot rang through the plaza. The bullet scraped (y/n) on the forehead causing her to gasp in pain.

“(y/n)!” “We’re splitting, go to the meetup spot okay? I’ll see you there.” The crowd grew thick and chaotic, civilians panicking at the thought of being shot. It was only seconds before Robin lost sight of the (h/c) tresses, but she’d never mistake the look in those eyes.

(y/n) was going for the kill.

Deciding to obey orders for now, Robin heads for the designated area. The navy started to go on the move as well due to the sudden disruption, so she had to be as careful as she was quick. A voice in the back of her head bemoaned how problematic everything had gotten. We should’ve never gone with (y/n). What good has she brought us? She wanted to shake those thoughts, but truthfully things had gotten too lively with (y/n) as her partner.

The woman was short-tempered with murderous tendencies. In the few arguments that they’ve had with each other, it wouldn’t be an understatement to say Robin wondered if she needed to be concerned for her life. Even though she swore to do no harm, the look in (y/n)’s eyes felt like staring down a feral beast. Too distracted by her thoughts to fully pay attention to her surroundings, the sound of a bullet whizzing right past her ear is what snaps Robin into reality.

She turns around quickly, trying to assess the situation and to see where she needs to move next. The bounty hunter is crouched on the roof, rifle in hand. Unbeknownst to him, (y/n) is on the roof as well, dagger clutched close to her chest. She creeps silently, waiting for the hunter to get back in position to shoot. Right when his finger is on the trigger and his rifle is steady, she pounces, pinning him down and stabbing him in the side of his throat.

The (s/c) killer grabs the rifle [what, it’s free loot!], slinging it across her back before jumping off the roof and into the alleyway. When she landed, a navy soldier had been in motion to leave until the noises shocked him into combat mode. “W-What are you doing?! Don’t you know there’s… a shooter on the loose…” He stares at the newly gained rifle before quickly aiming his own.

“Already causing trouble for me even in death, bastard.” The navy soldier fires two shots before he’s knocked out by an elbow to the jaw. Naturally the sound of more gunshots attracts surrounding navy soldiers and it isn’t long before (y/n) has a group of them chasing after her that she’s given up on shaking off. As she’s approaching the meetup spot, it’s very evident that a certain ebony-haired woman is not there. ‘Did she get caught? We should’ve never split! I fucked up…!’

(y/n) urged herself to keep running, heading towards the plaza once more. Yes it was risky, but at least she would be able to confirm if Robin got caught by the navy. As she finally enters the plaza, something catches in her peripheral.

Nico Robin sailing away on their quaint little boat.

“Robin! Robin, what the hell are you doing?!” Rage boiled deep within (y/n)’s gut, but unfortunately her stamina had a limit. She does a sharp right turn in order to make a mad dash for the docks in hopes of being able to jump on before it’s too late [and to throttle a certain woman real close to death]. However, a searing pain spreads through her hip, then her foot and another in her leg causing her to collapse. The navy soldiers swiftly put away their rifles and continued pursuit. “Don’t let her get away! Tie her up!” “Yes sir!”

Robin uses the tip of her finger to graze (s/c) knuckles. A sharp inhale was heard and eye contact was made. “But I’m not that person anymore. I’ve changed and everyday I’m actively choosing to be better than I was yesterday. You don’t have to forgive me, I just want you to know that I will never hurt you like that again. Even if for you that means my death.” (y/n) takes a shaky breath, her resolve wavering before cursing. A bright glint moves across the table triggering her to take action.

Robin is shoved out of her seat, at first she thinks that it’s truly the end of her life until she hears that same word that saved her last time.

“Run! I’ll handle this.” (y/n)’s hand is caked with blood, her other hand digging out the bullet. “With one hand out of commission? I doubt it. Let’s go!” Robin snatches the injured hand within her own, tugging them both towards safety. “Ah fuck…” (y/n) lets out a pained whimper, causing Robin to examine her. Blood is oozing through the (h/c) haired woman’s shirt and staining her pants indicating a gunshot wound to the lower torso.

Just like all those years before, the two women are hidden in the midst of a raging crowd. For a few seconds Robin swears she sees a younger version of (y/n) staring at her with pleading eyes, before it goes back to the current (y/n). Her skin is growing dull and clammy with sweat as she leans against Robin for support. “M’losing too much blood…” She slurs out, causing the archaeologist’s heartbeat to race with anxiety. Taking a deep breath, Robin steadies her voice. “Don’t worry, we have a doctor who can take care of you, okay? So stay awake, you hear me?”

Faintly the sound of Robin’s baby den-den mushi ringing barely pierces through all the screaming and stampedes. She isn’t given the chance to speak once she answers, instead, a barrage of yells could be heard. “Where are you?! We’re heading for Sunny right now, the navy is here ya know!” Usopp is panicking on the phone, evident by the tears running down the den-den mushi’s face. Luffy could be heard laughing in the background.

“I’m close by, please tell Chopper to prepare for treatment. It’s urgent.” Robin glances at her ex-partner, (e/c) eyes unfocused and half-lidded. "Please…"

(y/n) had practically lost consciousness by the time she and Robin reach Sunny. Her feet were dragging, Robin being the one nearly carrying her to the ship. The archaeologist’s hands were caked in blood, face covered with sweat, and eyes drowning in worry.

The rest of the crew was alarmed at the state that they arrived in. Chopper is quick to jump into action, instructing Robin to bring (y/n) to the infirmary where everything was prepped. The air was tense, no one knew what to say to the ebony haired woman. They don't know that this is someone who she's known a long time ago and pretty intimately at that. Someone who knows a side of her that isn't shown anymore. Robin isolates herself in the library, opening a book but not processing the words.

All she could think about was (y/n)'s fate. Would she live? Would she die? Did she want to live? Before her thoughts could take a darker turn, she decided to distract herself with a pleasant memory - the first time she went to Goldenleaf Island.

"This place is absolutely wonderful! It's like it's raining gold flakes! Take a look Robin!" (y/n) is beaming, leaning on the side of the boat as if it would cause them to reach the dock faster. Upbeat music could be heard playing as soon as they stepped into the pier. Children ran around with kites and sparklers, delicious native cuisine scented the air, making the girls' mouths water in anticipation.

"Welcome to Goldenleaf Island! We’re currently in the middle of our Harvest Festival, so make sure to enjoy the occasion to its fullest. If you head this way, someone will be able to get you the proper festivities garbs." An elderly man beckons the women, a kind smile etched into his face. Robin was wary about the whole situation, deciding to keep her sunglasses on until they were in the dressing rooms.

"Oh! They have masks here, do you want one?" (y/n) offers a clay fox mask to the archaeologist. "It beats looking silly with sunglasses. Are you gonna wear one too?" Robin inquires, a slight pout forming on her lips at the answer. "Hah? No way, I'm not the dumbass that can't hold a disguise for shit. Anyone with a brain cell can see that it's just you with a hat or a different hairstyle."

"Oh, like you're any better?" She crosses her arms in annoyance, the other teen never lets her live down her (bad) disguises. "I am, that's why I don't have a bounty photo. And you can't use the concept art against me because it's outdated." (y/n) grins smugly when Robin closes the changing curtains with a huff.

Grabbing her yukata, (y/n) then slides the curtains back open before closing it behind her. "You can't be in here." Robin gripes, already in her undergarments. "Aww, don't act like that. M'sorry okay?" (s/c) hands creep around her tanned waist, pulling her flush against her partner. A soft kiss trails from her collarbone, up the side of her neck, and stops right behind her ear. "We can do whatever you want at the festival today. How does that sound?" (y/n) bargains, whispering gently in her ear before blowing on it and pulling away.

Robin is flustered, (y/n) knows this because she's quiet and won't make eye contact. The girls finish getting dressed before (y/n) helps with putting the mask on. "It suits you pretty well." The (h/c) teen compliments, doing one last check on her makeup. "We could match, just thought I'd throw that out there." Robin makes one last attempt, but all it does is trigger a laughing fit from her partner.

The days spent on Goldenleaf were ones with no worries. They were able to behave like the youngsters they are, eating til they dropped, playing with sparklers, and goldfish catching. Sneaking kisses in alleyways and watching fireworks hand in hand from the balcony of their hotel room. It was good to forget reality for a bit, moments like these were worth living for.

A timid knock on the door draws Robin out of memory lane. Not waiting for a response, Chopper creeps his head through the door. "That lady you brought, she's currently stable and is resting." As if a huge weight had been lifted off of her chest, the archaeologist breathes deeply before giving a strained smile. "That's good, thank you." Her voice nearly betrayed her, threatening to tremble with emotion as she willed herself not to cry.

"Luffy does want to hold a crew meeting though, sooner rather than later, preferably." Chopper adds, expression unusually serious. And the same goes for her captain as soon as she reaches the deck. Most of the crew seemed anxious, after all it's rare for Robin to lose her composure. But one look into those blue eyes would tell you everything you needed to know. They didn’t want to pry, worried that she would pull back into herself and shut them out.

However, Luffy is the captain of the ship, and as such he has a right to know who is aboard, which brings the question, "Who is that person? You've been acting strange since the attack, is it because of her?" Robin tries not to show how flustered she is, eyes unable to meet her fellow crewmates. "She's an old friend of mine. We have some issues that I want to work out, now that I know she's going to live."

With a singular nod, Luffy dismissed any negative thoughts and instead broke out into a huge smile. "Well a friend of yours is a friend of ours. She’s gonna get the best treatment possible!" Robin returns the smile

It takes a few days before (y/n) regains consciousness and is cleared to start moving around. Sanji practically has a heart attack at the sight of her. "My beloved goddess, is there anything that I can do for you?" The blond moves swiftly, pulling out a chair for her to take a seat while flashing her his brightest smile. “Something light is fine…” (y/n) eyes him warily, but relaxes in the chair against her better judgment. Being injured has made her a bit passive. Chopper enters the kitchen as well, checking vitals while the (h/c) woman eats.

“Everything looks fine, but you should still take it easy. Your wound hasn’t fully closed.” A hum of acknowledgment is heard, and Sanji places down a small bowl of fruit. “Something to hold you off for now.” He explained, blue eyes gazing curiously at her wounded hand. The kitchen door swings open gently, Robin walking in with an empty plate. (y/n)’s eyes immediately shoot to her, and the stare is returned tenfold.

The tension was stifling, so much needed to be said, but not for prying ears. Sanji awkwardly clears his throat. “Chopper, let’s give them some space for now.” The reindeer agrees without hesitation, nearly leaving his medical supplies behind in his desperation to leave the kitchen. (y/n) remains still, continuing to stare at Robin despite the raven haired woman breaking eye contact. She places her plate in the sink silently, it was just them now.

“Earlier, you asked me how I’ve been, I haven’t been doing so hot, I’ve been overworking myself so that I could forget the good times I’ve had with you.” Pain was evident in the (e/c) hues, tinging them darker than usual. “I didn’t want to forgive you, even though my heart ached when I tried to convince myself you were no good for me. So I tried to get rid of it.” Robin stayed silent, listening attentively to everything that was said. She took it all in – this is (y/n)’s true feelings. “I never did do (insert dream). I gave up everything for revenge, and I couldn’t even commit to that. I’m tired, Robin.”

The archaeologist creeps closer to (y/n), settling down in the seat beside her. She gingerly links their pinkies together, waiting to see if the (h/c) haired woman would pull away. When she didn’t, Robin began lacing their hands together completely and rubbing her thumb over the bandaged knuckles. (y/n) sighs, silently cursing her body for instinctually relaxing at the touch. “There wasn’t a day where I haven’t thought about you.” Robin admits, inhaling that familiar scent that she adores so much. She leans her head on (y/n)’s shoulder. “Sometimes it would be a little painful, because the guilt would eat at me.” Tilting her head up so that she could get a peek at the mercenary’s expression, Robin continues to speak. “Let’s start over.”

(y/n) makes a sound of mock contemplation, releasing her hand from Robin’s grasp. A slight panic rattled her bones at the disconnect, doubling in size at the poker face given to her. “I don’t really let strangers touch me like this, sorry lady.” Blue eyes widened in disbelief, triggering (y/n) to break her serious facade with a smirk. The duo broke out into a fit of giggles before (y/n) gets stern again. “I don’t want to start over, but I do have a lot of healing that I need to do. It might get ugly, but… I’d like to have you by my side again, and to teach me.”

Robin gently cups her face, peppering butterfly kisses on her nose, cheeks, forehead, all around before finally pecking her lips. She pulls back, making meaningful eye contact. “I will never betray you again, I swear.”

[aiwokure]

Everything You Need To Know About Writing Gunshot Wounds 

Welcome to the latest installment in my ongoing series on crafting realistic wounds in fiction! After covering stab wounds and burns, it's time to explore the next wound category frequently explored in fiction—gunshot wounds. 

Gunshot wounds are a recurring motif in the realm of storytelling. They're something you can easily come across in every genre, however, authors often poorly portray gunshot wounds due to lack of proper research. I understand finding the right resources to aid with your writing can be hard, so here's my comprehensive guide on how to write gunshot wounds. 

How To Categorise Gunshot Wounds

There are certain factors you need to consider before writing a gunshot wound. These details are instrumental in crafting a vivid and plausible narrative while avoiding plot holes. The first and most important one is identifying the type of firearm used to inflict the wound. 

Picking The Right Firearm 

Selecting the appropriate firearm to inflict a gunshot wound is a pivotal decision. It's not just about choosing any gun; it's about picking the right one to align with your desired outcome and the narrative's overall impact. Here's a quick guide on how to pick the right firearm.  

The Impact of Firearm Selection

The firearm you choose can significantly influence the severity and appearance of the gunshot wound. Whether your goal is a graphic, gory injury or a precise, long-range shot, the choice of firearm plays a crucial role. Here are some guns you to consider:

Handguns: These are versatile and commonly used in close-quarters combat. They can result in gruesome, close-contact wounds with a higher potential for damage due to their stopping power.

Shotguns: Shotguns disperse shot pellets upon firing, making them suitable for creating a broader pattern of injuries. If you aim to depict a devastating, close-range gunshot wound, shotguns can be a fitting choice.

Rifles: Rifles are known for their accuracy at longer distances. When you need a precise, long-range shot, rifles are the go-to option. They tend to produce a cleaner wound channel, especially when used for a targeted, well-planned injury.

Choosing the Right Firearm for Your Narrative

The type of firearm you select should align with your story's objectives. If you intend to evoke visceral, gory reactions, opt for handguns or shotguns used in close proximity. On the other hand, if precision and long-range engagement are key, rifles can achieve your desired outcome.

Keep in mind that firearm selection can affect the wound's damage, trajectory, and overall portrayal in your narrative. 

Categorising The Wound 

Once you've identified the type of firearm, you need to establish what type of wound your character will incur. 

In order to bring your character's injuries to life, it's important to first identify what you're dealing with. You can do this by categorising the injury based on several factors. For gunshot wounds, this includes the type of firearm used, the bullet's trajectory, and the specific areas of the body affected.

You can categorise your character's gunshot would into seven main categories, here's a quick breakdown of what these categories look like and the level of severity associated with them: 

Penetrating Gunshot Wounds: These wounds occur when a bullet enters the body but doesn't exit. The bullet remains inside the body, causing damage along its path.

Perforating Gunshot Wounds: In this case, the bullet enters the body and exits on the opposite side. This type of wound can have a different set of implications due to the bullet's trajectory.

Ricochet Gunshot Wounds: Ricochet wounds happen when the bullet bounces off a surface before hitting the character. The nature of the surface can influence the severity of the wound.

Through-and-Through Gunshot Wounds: As the name suggests, these wounds occur when the bullet enters one side of the body and exits through the other. The trajectory can greatly affect the injury's severity.

Close-Contact Gunshot Wounds: These wounds result from the firearm being fired at extremely close range. The proximity of the gun to the body can lead to unique wound patterns and burn injuries.

Shotgun Wounds: Shotgun wounds differ from those caused by handguns or rifles. The shot pellets disperse upon firing, leading to a broader pattern of injury.

Long-Range Gunshot Wounds: When a character is shot from a considerable distance, the wound might appear different due to factors like bullet tumbling and loss of velocity.

The Anatomy of a Gunshot Wound

To create a vivid portrayal of a gunshot wound, writers need to grasp not only the external appearance but also the internal effects it has on the body. A well-executed description captures both the physical trauma and the emotional turmoil experienced by the character. Here are some symptoms you should take into consideration.

1. External Appearance and Bleeding:

Wound Size: The size of a gunshot wound can vary significantly based on the type of firearm and bullet used. Smaller calibers may leave entry and exit wounds that are relatively small, while larger bullets or high-velocity rounds can create much larger wounds. Be specific about the size, which can help readers visualize the injury.

Blood Loss: Gunshot wounds typically result in bleeding. The severity of bleeding depends on factors like the wound's location, the size of the blood vessels damaged, and the bullet's trajectory. Mention the amount of blood, but avoid excessive gore unless it serves a specific purpose in your narrative.

Coughing Up Blood: If the gunshot wound affects the chest or lung area, characters may cough up blood. This symptom often signifies a more critical injury and can add drama to your story.

2. Internal Damage and Symptoms:

Pain: Gunshot wounds are painful, and the character should express this pain through their actions, dialogue, and internal thoughts. Describe the sharp, burning, or throbbing sensations as they resonate through the character's body.

Shock: Depending on the severity of the wound, shock can set in. The character may appear pale, sweaty, and disoriented. This state of shock can impact their actions and decisions.

Loss of Function: A gunshot wound may impair the use of the injured body part. Describe any loss of function, such as the inability to move a limb or use it effectively.

Fainting: In extreme cases, characters may faint due to the pain, blood loss, or shock. Be sure to contextualize this within the narrative, as fainting can have significant consequences for the character.

By diving into the details of a gunshot wound's anatomy, you can craft a compelling and realistic portrayal that draws readers into the character's harrowing experience. I haven't exactly covered every symptom out there, but these are the major ones you should take into account when writing. 

Medical Assessment and Treatment

Once you've established your gunshot wound, it's now time to focus on the aftermath. One of the main factors to consider is the medical process that follows. If your character is supposed to die from the gunshot then you could probably skip this section, but if they're alive here are things you need to consider. 

1. Initial Assessment:

Scene Safety: In a real-life scenario, safety is paramount. First responders will ensure the scene is secure before approaching the injured person. Consider factors like the presence of firearms, potential threats, and the safety of medical personnel.

ABCs of Assessment: Medical professionals follow the ABCs—Airway, Breathing, and Circulation. Writers can reflect this in their storytelling by highlighting the character's ability to breathe, cough, or speak after being shot.

Vital Signs: Mentioning vital signs like heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation can help convey the character's condition and the urgency of their medical treatment.

2. Trauma Assessment:

Focused Assessment: Medical personnel perform a thorough examination to identify the gunshot wound's location, entry and exit points, and any associated injuries. This assessment informs their treatment plan.

Imaging: Depending on the complexity of the injury, X-rays or other imaging may be required to visualize the bullet's trajectory and any potential damage to internal organs or bones.

3. Treatment:

Bleeding Control: Stopping the bleeding is a top priority. This may involve applying pressure, packing the wound, or even tourniquet application in extreme cases.

Wound Care: Depending on the wound's severity, cleaning and suturing may be required. The character's response to this procedure can add an element of realism to your narrative.

Pain Management: Gunshot wounds are excruciatingly painful, and medical personnel will often administer pain relief or anesthesia during treatment.

Monitoring and Observation: Patients with gunshot wounds require careful observation and monitoring for signs of infection, complications, or changes in their condition.

By accurately portraying the medical assessment and treatment of gunshot wounds, you not only enhance the authenticity of your writing but also depict the physical and emotional toll such injuries can take on your characters. This attention to detail helps your readers connect more deeply with the story.

The Psychological Impact

Gunshot wounds don't just inflict physical harm; they also leave lasting emotional and psychological scars. It is important to note that the extent of the psychological impact on your characters will heavily rely on various factors. 

For example, you need to consider whether or not this injury is something normal for them. Do they work as a spy, assassin, or other such roles that would mandate such dangerous injuries? You also need to consider who shot them. Does this wound come with emotional damage as well? Think of Aaron Warner’s reaction to Juliet shooting him. 

If you’re sure your character will have some extent of a psychological impact, here are some factors you should consider. 

1. Shock and Denial:

Immediate Response: Characters who have been shot may initially experience shock and denial. This can manifest as disbelief, emotional numbness, or a surreal sense of detachment from the situation.

Physical Symptoms: Shock can lead to physical symptoms like trembling, chills, or even fainting. Incorporating these details can make the character's reaction more genuine.

2. Fear and Anxiety:

Survivor's Guilt: Characters may grapple with survivor's guilt if they are the only ones to emerge unscathed in a violent encounter.

Anxiety: The threat of recurrence or the fear of returning to the location where the shooting occurred can trigger anxiety and panic attacks.

3. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD):

Flashbacks and Nightmares: Characters who have survived a gunshot wound may experience recurring flashbacks and nightmares, vividly reliving the traumatic event.

Hypervigilance: PTSD can lead to hypervigilance, where characters are constantly on edge, expecting danger at every turn.

4. Depression and Isolation:

Emotional Withdrawal: Characters may withdraw from social interactions, experiencing feelings of isolation and sadness.

Emotional Numbness: Some may describe feeling emotionally numb, unable to experience joy or pleasure.

5. Recovery and Resilience:

Therapeutic Support: In your storytelling, consider how characters seek therapy or counseling to cope with their emotional scars. Therapy can be a path toward recovery and resilience.

By addressing the psychological impact of gunshot wounds on your characters, you create more layered and relatable individuals within your narrative. This depth allows readers to connect with the characters on a profound emotional level.

I hope this blog on Everything You Need To Know About Writing Gunshot Wounds will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[aiwokure]

subtle ways to include foreshadowing

one character knowing something offhandedly that they shouldn't, isn't addressed until later

the crow rhyme

colours!! esp if like, blue is evil in your world and the mc's best friend is always noted to wear blue...betrayal?

write with the ending in mind

use patterns from tragic past events to warn of the future

keep the characters distracted! run it in the background until the grand reveal

WEATHER.

do some research into Chekhov's gun

mention something that the mc dismisses over and over

KEEP TRACK OF WHAT YOU PUT. don't leave things hanging.

unreliable characters giving information that turn out to be true

flowers and names with meanings

anything with meanings actually

metaphors. if one character describes another as "a real demon" and the other turns out to be the bad guy, you're kind of like...ohhh yeahhh

anyways add anything else in the tags

[aiwokure]

What is an Unreliable Narrator? And How to Write One.

An unreliable narrator is a storytelling technique where the narrator's credibility or truthfulness is questionable. The narrator either intentionally or unintentionally provides a distorted or biased account of the events, characters, or situations in the story. This narrative approach can add complexity, suspense, and intrigue to your writing. Here's how you can create an unreliable narrator:

1. Establish a motive: Determine why the narrator is unreliable. It could be due to personal bias, mental instability, deception, or a hidden agenda. Develop their backstory, motivations, and beliefs to understand why they might present a skewed version of events.

2. Use subjective language: Incorporate language and descriptions that reflect the narrator's personal viewpoint and biases. Their opinions, emotions, and interpretations should color their narration, influencing how readers perceive the story.

3. Include contradictions and inconsistencies: Allow the narrator to make contradictory statements or present conflicting information. This creates doubt and keeps the readers engaged as they try to unravel the truth.

4. Reveal information selectively: The unreliable narrator might withhold or reveal information strategically, manipulating the readers' understanding of the story. This can create suspense and surprise as readers discover hidden truths.

5. Showcase unreliable perceptions: Explore how the narrator's perceptions and interpretations of events differ from reality. They may misinterpret actions, misremember details, or even hallucinate. These discrepancies add depth to the character and raise doubts about their reliability.

6. Use other characters as contrasting sources: Introduce other characters who present alternative perspectives or contradict the narrator's version of events. This contrast allows readers to question the reliability of the narrator and form their own interpretations.

7. Employ narrative techniques: Experiment with techniques like foreshadowing, symbolism, or unreliable memory to emphasize the narrator's unreliability. These devices can help blur the line between truth and fiction, leaving readers intrigued and uncertain.

8. Provide hints and clues: Drop subtle hints or clues throughout the story that suggest the narrator's unreliability. This allows readers to piece together the truth gradually and encourages them to engage actively with the narrative.

[aiwokure]

Types of intelligence for your OCs

What kind of intelligence does your character posses? Based on theory of multiple intelligences, these are some ideas what kind of smarts your characters might posses that aren’t the typical academic or street smarts. 

1. Visual-spatial (space smart)

These people are good at visualizing things, seeing in 3D, being able to imagine how things look even out of sight from the information they have about it. They are good with directions, maps, charts and pictures. Eye for drawing, patterns and puzzles. 

Especially useful for: architects, engineers, artists, pilots

2. Linguistic-verbal (word smart)

The ability to use words well, when writing and speaking. Typical strenghts are telling stories, memorizing information, love for reading, skill with words, debating and persuasive skills, adept at explaining complicated subjects. Also tend to be great at languages. 

Especially useful for: writers, journalists, lawyers, teachers, public speakers

3. Logical (reasoning smart)

Not necessarily but possibly mathematical, these people are great at reasoning, pattern recognition and logical analysis. Enjoyment for abstract thinking and ideas, excellent problem-solving skills and logical argumentation are other common traits. Pattersn, categories, relationships. 

Especially useful for: mathematicians, accountants, scientists, and detectives.

4. Bodily-kinesthetic (body smart)

Great hand-eye cordination, physical movement, often skilled at sports, dancing and creating things with their hands. Learn and remember rather by doing than listening or reading. Sense of timing and mind-body union excellent. 

Especially useful for: dancers, sculptors, actors, athletes, surgeons, crafts people, soldiers, police officers

5. Musical (sound smart)

Sensitive listeners. Thinking in patterns, recognizing rhythms, notes and melodies, good at remembering tunes, these people often enjoy singing or playing instruments. Often show great understanding of musical structure and know quickly when they hear someone going off-key. 

Especially useful for: musical teachers, composers, musicians, 

6. Interpersonal (people smart)

These people are very good at understanding and interacting with others. From verbal to non-verbal communication, they are proficient at assessing motivations, moods and desires of others and seeing things from multiple perspectives. Great communicators, create positive relationships with others easily and solve group dynamics and group conflicts well. Also enjoy discussions, debates and teamwork. 

Especially useful for: psychologists, counselors, salespeople, politicians, philosophers, teachers, managers, team leaders

7. Intrapersonal (self smart)

The opposite of interpersonal smarts is the intrapersonal intelligence, where people are very in tune with themselves and their feelings. They are honest with themselves, enjoy self-reflection, analysing theories and ideals, love daydreaming, and show great self-awareness and assessment of their own strenghts and weaknesses. 

Especially useful for: writers, philosophers, theorits, scientists

Bonus types: 

8. Creative (ideas smart) 

People that show exceptional curiousity, get inspired by little things around them and connect ideas and concepts in an unsual way. It’s a more feeling-based, spontaneous type of intelligence that gets less recognition, but brings immense benefits in all fields. 

Especially useful for: artists, marketers, scientists, concept artists, 

10. Abstract (concept smart)

Drawn to abstract ideas, these people enjoy deep discussions, don’t like to settle on one truth and ask questions that have no easy or no answer at all. Connecting, conceptualizing, analysing, listening and putting things together, they are great at seeing things from a distance, seeing the whole and not just the pieces. 

Especially useful for: scientists, philosophers, researchers, theorists, designers, analysts

Writing advice masterlist

[aiwokure]

Writing Tips

Descriptions in Between Dialogue

✧

⤠ how characters interact with the environment

⇝ moving something, picking something up, looking somewhere

⤠ how the environment interacts with the characters

⇝ weather, other character’s actions or movements

⤠ gestures

⇝ facial expressions, body language

⤠ shifts in position

⇝ standing, sitting, leaning, shifting weight, crossing arms/legs

⤠ physical reactions

⇝ body temperature, fidgeting, heart rate, character quirks

⤠ environmental descriptions

⇝ descriptions using the five senses, setting, character’s appearances

⤠ internal dialogue

⇝ emotional reaction to what was said, reflection of past experiences, connections to other characters/settings/actions

➵ I want to reiterate… descriptions using the five senses ; when in doubt, think of the five senses your character is experiencing and pick what best moves the story forward

[aiwokure]

writers' resources

sick of using "very _____" ? : https://www.losethevery.com/

want to simplify your writing ? : https://hemingwayapp.com/

writing buddies / motivation ? : https://nanowrimo.org

word you're looking for but don't know ? : https://www.onelook.com/thesaurus/

need a fantasy name ? : https://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/

need a fantasy name ? : https://nameberry.com/

want a name with meaning ? : https://www.behindthename.com/

who wants a map maker! : https://inkarnate.com/

story building / dnd ? : https://www.worldanvil.com/

need some minimalistic writing time ? : https://zenpen.io/

running out of ideas ? : https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/

setting a goal ? how about 3 pages / day ? : https://new.750words.com/

what food did they eat ? : https://www.foodtimeline.org/

questions on diversity within writing ? : https://writingwithcolor.tumblr.com/

now what was that colour called ? : https://ingridsundberg.com/2014/02/04/the-color-thesaurus/

want more? : https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lyralit :]

[aiwokure]

Lucky Break Chapter 2

Yandere Straw Hats x Reader

5k Words

Beginning / Previous / Next (to be written)

Keep reading

[aiwokure]

Any world, any fandom, any originals, however you art or write or whatever!

Do what you can and have fun!

Text Version: https://www.tumblr.com/femslashfeb/707668468060897280/femslash-feb-2023-prompts-text?source=share

I’ll be watching the tag #femslashfeb2023 , so make sure to use that in the first 5 tags if you want me to see

! Additionally, while you are welcome to create works of any maturity I will only reblog works that can be viewed by minors. No mature works are reblogged, but may still be found in the tag.

Credits for the list this year go out to my sister who was a great help and always is💕

[aiwokure]

some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.

[aiwokure]

silence

[ wanderer!scaramouche x okami!reader ]

summary: completely lost after his defeat in becoming a god, he searches not only for a new purpose but also for a certain someone who brought him comfort greater than his own kin would.

notes: aka scara is a baby and comes crying to you because he's a sore loser /jk | m.list

words: 2933 | warnings: it's scaramouche /jk there's nothing bad here just comfort and shit, also the pacing is kinda shitty cause i wrote this at work lmao

you have always loved the silence.

the eerie silence that enveloped a battlefield after a fight, where one side mourns for the dead and the other celebrates their victory far away. the tranquil noises of nature in the forest, your abode—if you focus enough, you can hear the white noise of the wind rushing above the sky, the flight of birds, the footsteps of every animal within your vicinity, and the gushing waterfall hitting the surface below. the muted thoughts of people, all with voices to scream yet defiance against authority means death, so they choose to silence their cries for help. the stillness of the night, where you can faintly hear the howls of your kin from afar, reminding you of past battles won and lost.

but somewhere in the distant memory of your past, you miss the complaints of a certain boy whose voice never seemed to shut the hell up.

your words, not mine.

he used to be so loud, crying even whilst he slept. whining and complaining about how you imprisoned him in this otherworldly forest of yours, yet he shuts his mouth after being reminded of his reality of being a casualty to those he comes across.

a puppet gone mad, out of its master's control, strings tangled.

"you're not here to be tamed, brat."

"then why are you keeping me here?" kunikuzushi glares at you from the other side of the stone table, a hand gripping the knife you casually gave him so he could practice on his own.

you always seemed to be his dummy target though. not that he could hurt you in the slightest, the gap between your capabilities is that of the height you need to reach celestia. it's quite an exaggeration, but far from a lie.

"so you don't go around accidentally causing more unintentional problems. learn how to use your brain or something, you have one for a reason," was always your answer to his repeated question, laughing at the way his face contorted to apprehension. "i don't have the patience to shape you into whatever humane person or puppet your creator wants you to be. so i'm doing you a favor by letting you be whatever the fuck you want to be. kill whoever you want, destroy whatever you want, go pour your anger as much as you want. it matters little to me."

"doesn't that contradict your past obligation as inazuma's former defender?"

"exactly what the title says," you shrug your shoulders, throwing your hands up without energy, "that is in the past. inazuma's concerns do not matter to me now that my god is gone."

placing your chin on your palm, you send him a knowing smirk, a sight he realizes that he does not like, "you can destroy this nation all you want and i wouldn't mind one bit. it would be interesting to see you as a god and not just a little brat."

he would always grow silent after the nth time you had this conversation, pondering, imagining the imagery of what you just said. it's almost as if he's in a trance.

the silence of someone having an inner conflict in more ways than one, is something that you would say is better than the silence when someone is mourning.

because this kind of silence is always followed by chaos.

"oh? where do you think you're going, little doll?"

"stop calling me that," he hissed, turning his head to glare at you.

for some reason, the change in his personality these past few months was refreshing, so unlike the whiny little brat who used to cower away from you. the same brat who's always frustrated at himself.

but at the same time, it's such a shame that he didn't change his ways. still reckless and careless.

this recklessness will kill him someday, you thought.

"well, answer the question."

he falters, taking a few steps away from you when you tilt your head, urging—demanding for his answer. he still couldn't look you straight in the eyes when you become like this—when your voice goes a little deep, eyes staring him down and the authority in the way you poised yourself.

"to the fatui. i'm not going to let myself rot in here."

"you're a puppet, you're not supposed to rot."

he scoffs at the comment, vile irritation building up his throat at the way you remained unbothered, almost uncaring, indifferent and as if this means little to you. you act more like a puppet than he does, he realizes.

he hates that about you.

it's ironic. he's the same way, more venomous through his words—but with you, it's like talking to a stone cold wall.

"i'm leaving to snezhnaya."

"hm," you turn your head to the vast forest, shrouded with tall trees and thick fog—wait, when did the fog get so thick? kunikuzushi was so sure he could still see far and beyond the first few layers of those trees, why did the forest suddenly seem so eerie and… predatory.

"you can leave."

"huh?" he stares at you in disbelief, with a hint of sadness.

are you… really going to let him go that easily?

for some reason, despite the freedom given to him, he wanted you to stop him.

"find the exit yourself," your trademark grin appeared on your face, challenging and daring him to do so. it's infuriating, makes him feel like you're looking down at him and his capabilities. "if you successfully get out of this forest, then i trust that you can handle the world outside and beyond this nation."

i take back my words, he scoffs, i don't need their permission to leave. they can't stop me.

"i don't need another petty test of yours, i can take care of my own," he sharply turns away and into the direction he swore was the exit just a moment ago.

"oh, trust me, doll," your giggles echoed through the forest, ringing in his ears for the last time, way too close than from where you just stood a moment ago.

"the forest is a cruel place to get lost in."

and since then, your abode returned to the way it was.

placid, motionless, and isolated. just like how it should be.

yet you look forward to the day that he comes back crying—you stifle a laugh at how pitiful he would look—scrunched nose and furrowed eyebrows, grumbling curses to the world as he slumps down on the ground, hissing at you as you tease him for being a baby before he falls asleep on the sprawled blanket you have in the living room of your cabin. your spirit watches over his sleep, dispersing his nightmares before it can even take root in his mind and blanketing him with your tail despite his inability to feel the change in the temperature.

no, he's too deep in his sleep to ever catch you doing such things.

some days, you'd sense a feeling of fear crawling inside the back of your head. it takes a form of visions and voices. it would whisper using the boy's voice, show images using his face, speak in a way he does. it's times like this that you take pride in your strength. you know better than to crumble against fear and its illusions. such emotions are not strong enough to push through the height of your defenses that were built from piles upon piles of lost loved ones.

yet your heart clenches at the thought of this boy, robbed of the opportunity to grow properly, succumbing to the demons of this world.

it's a shame that even you can't be the person to guide him, for you are the same as he.

you can only hope that he finds himself in his journey.

"ah, it seems like it's that time of the year once again."

you stretch your limbs with a pur-like groan, your tail swinging in anticipation behind you. now that the weariness from sleep had faded, your sharp eyes admire the red and orange colors blending within the forest, the sound of leaves crunching beneath your feet every step you take music to your ears and the cold breeze wafting in the air.

the season of fall always brings out the playful side of your soul.

your attentiveness is sharper than usual, eyes turning to every little bit of movement in your surroundings despite knowing that no threat can occur in your abode. you carved its landscape with your very own hand, grew each and every tree rooted on the ground, wrote protective spells into every tree bark to form your very own barrier, opened ponds and breathed life into its very ground through the leylines. it's your safe haven, nothing can disturb your peace and it is a part of you to an extent.

that's way, when a familiar presence stepped inside your abode with no struggles whatsoever, your ears perked up and tail sways in anticipation.

fall is indeed a season for farewells and reunions.

"you're back quite earlier than expected, did the world outside the forest scare you?" you needn't look to know that he's standing right at the entrance of your favorite clearing, your figure sat near the pond with your feet dipped into the clear water.

"you're exaggerating," he grumbles, footsteps getting louder and closer until he's close enough, stopping just next to you.

"most certainly not," you hummed softly, tilting your head up to look at him after a few hundred years of not seeing him. your ears twitched.

instantly, you know something is different about him.

"you've changed."

"hmp, perhaps," he scoffs loudly, taking a seat beside you in a criss-cross position, slouching a little bit. he's barely looking at you, but that's not something new.

the way you imagined he would years ago.

"you're still grumpy though, might want to change that."

"you're still insufferable. i shouldn't have come back."

"yet you're here. i'm surprised you were able to enter without a problem. i was hoping the forest devoured you when you left. turns out you were able to get out, a shame," you sigh, "i should check on my barriers soon."

"you—" he hisses—the same way you adored, like an angry kitten—turning his head to glare at you, forehead scrunched in irritation, "so you don't even know if anyone gets caught in your shithole? did you assume i just up and died right before i got out?"

he can feel something warm in his chest at the way you laughed freely.

he hasn't heard that sound for a long time.

"you're alive though," he groaned at the familiar sly smile on your face. "besides, i wouldn't have let you go if i didn't know that you'd make it out alive."

"you would in a heartbeat."

"hm, if it were someone else, perhaps. but not you," you turn your head back to the pond, a contented smile on your face, voice unintentionally turning soft, "not my brat."

those words were the key to kunikuzushi's vulnerable state.

the silence that followed after your words was… unnerving, for some reason.

yet you felt as if you should give him the time he needs to gather himself, to give him a choice to talk or to keep things to himself. it stayed like that for a while, tuning into the sound of birds above and humming to make him more comfortable—or was it for your own comfort that you tried to fill in the silence? the feeling of being unsure is so… uneasy.

why am i doing so much for his comfort?

just when you're about to speak to change the topic, he opens his mouth—and he speaks.

piles and piles of words upon words, like a scroll being unravel down the flight of stairs to the narukami shrine. his voice, clumsy and blurry words as it may be, sings to you tragedies in a kabuki performance. he opens his doors to you and only you, almost breaking down on the spot if it wasn't for his ridiculous pride—you surmise that you may have influenced him in that case. it plays a theatrical scene that takes eternity to finish dialogues upon dialogues.

he's a puppet whose strings are cut short, but he picks himself up, tangling the fragile strings in the process.

and you are his only audience.

you're his standing ovation when no one bothers to stop and see him for what he is.

perhaps, you are more suited to be sat beside him, joining in his play instead of just a witness—because you are more than just some random bystander who happens to pass by a puppet show.

it took him a while to finish his story. just like any kabuki, time is crucial in the production, and kunikuzushi is a person who barely had the time to see the world in its purest form. yet time is also what brought him his demise.

the gods did not give him enough time to feel and learn.

when he finishes, the sun has already hid itself behind the ocean of trees and the sky is blanketed by a starry void.

a false sky, he said in one of his stories.

somehow, kunikuzushi's head ended up on your lap—he dares not to bring attention to this fact, he already feels embarrassed as it is.

"how did it felt?"

he stares at you with a grain of salt.

"to what? to almost die? quite the experience, i didn't enjoy falling head first though. would you like to try?"

"no, dumbass," he hisses when your finger flicks against his forehead. before he could even cover the assaulted area, you swat his hand away to replace it with yours. an uncharacteristic gentle touch on his skin, a caress. he resists the urge to melt towards your hand. "how did it feel like to almost have something within your reach but realize it won't do you any better? to learn how to decide for yourself, for the better, after experiencing bitter defeat?"

he purses his lips, turning away from your direction to stare at the pond reflecting the dark sky.

your hand slips across his forehead to his hair, gently caressing the familiar stresses—familiar stresses that reminded you so much of a former dear friend that you lost long ago. you didn't expect him to answer your question yet, to push forward for an answer would be adding salt to an open wound.

and the last thing you want to do is give him a reason to pull away.

"you know, if i was ei, i would have chosen you to rule with me."

"stop saying things to make me feel better, that's not like you," he scoffs—unbeknownst to the way his cheeks turn a little warmer.

such a human feature to have.

"i would love to see you be the god you wanted to be," you continued to mutter with a soft smile, brushing your fingers through his hair.

"stop it."

"i would watch you build yourself higher and have greater goals as a god."

"what is wrong with you!?" he quickly pushes himself off of you, whipping his head to look at you with a bewildered face. "are you out of your mind!?" he glares at the way your smile turns sly.

"i would have chosen you, someone with no human heart yet able to feel what it's like to be human," your hand pats his head playfully, snickering when he swats it away roughly.

"you," growling, he turns away from your direction.

"but alas, i'm not patient enough to baby you or anyone else," you shake your head shamefully, shrugging your shoulders. "go do whatever the fuck you want yourself, learn shit for yourself. but that does not mean you can do it alone, dumbass."

"why are you talking like this?" he mumbles, but you can see the way his shoulder trembled in the slightest, no doubt nibbling on his bottom lip to stop himself from something as 'pitiful' as crying. "shut up, i came here to rest, not to listen to your nonsense musings. i had enough of that already."

"well then," you reach out to his shoulder, gently directing him back on your lap. he faces you this time, eyes clenched tight to avoid looking at you, his only pillar in this world. he feels too light headed, whether if it's from your words or the feeling of finally resting after so many years of suffering, he's not too sure. he'd deny the former with everything he has though. but he cannot deny that he feels safe in your haven, here in the comfort of your arms.

"rest, you can think of the next step after you get some shuteye, don't make me knock you out myself."

he clicked his tongue, before it became quiet again.

this time, it's a comfortable silence. nothing like the tension from the first time you met him, nothing like the few times he spent quietly sobbing on your shoulder every time he awakes from a nightmare—nothing like the eerie quietude in the middle of the eye of the storm, waiting for the real disaster to come surging. soon, the boy falls asleep to the warm and loving touch on his head.

in the silence, you whisper words that you could not tell him.

"i would've gone through celestia and the abyss to give you a heart."

you, despite claiming that you will not baby him, held him in a way a parent would towards their child. with gentle hands and feathery touches, and a heart that you would give him if you could.

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