#I GOT CARRIED AWAY :(

[doomedtoxicyaoi]

This post just started out as a joke, but I ended up just writing out way more than I thought. Basically, enjoy this Doflamingo character analysis kinda. Feel free to comment your own thoughts.

I've been thinking about this Tumblr post in reference to One Piece, specifically the Donquixote Family calling Doffy "young master".

I can't understand the nuances of the original Japanese text, so if this is just a strange translation choice, then ignore this, but I wanted to check if this is true for English and apparently it is. "Young master" is not what you refer to the head of a household. Usually, the butler or servant or whatever calls the actual patriarch Mr. _____, so in this case it should be Mr. Donquixote. "Young Master" is the title used for the eldest son who has not come of age yet. So that fact that many of the family still refer to Doffy as young master in his early 40s is almost paramount to calling him a man-child.

If it is deliberate, there could be a couple of reasons for this. For starters, Doffy hasn't 'reclaimed' his celestial dragon status. He was stripped of it as a child, so in a way he's never 'claimed' his status as the head of the Donquixote Household. The last time he was someone with that power was when he was 8, the eldest son of Donquixote Homing. There's also the reply that mentioned how Mr.___ will generally be what the person's father was called. So the title of Mr. Donquixote might permanently be associated with Homing, and we know by now that Doffy hates his dad. I find this pretty plausible too, especially since the idea of fatherhood itself seems to be tainted for Doffy. He almost exclusively refers to subordinates as being like his 'younger siblings' rather than his children. It makes more sense when you consider the ages of the characters, because the designs make it really hard to tell sometimes.

You have characters like Law being 13 and looking like Nami was when she was 8 (probably because of the disease stunting his growth and also Oda draws most children the same) and then you have Corazon and Doflamingo being like 10ft tall but in their 20s.

Like you could easily mistake these two for being a picture of a parent and their kid just based on design alone. Not to mention that Doffy knew them since they were children, and with Dellinger since he was literally a baby. Even if he's only 17 years older than Baby 5 and 15 years older than Law, (Corazon is only 13 years older than Law like it would be worrying if that was his son 😭) They do both take over kind of a guardian role. Sometimes older siblings basically become parents to their younger siblings because their actual parents are unavailable (in this case dead). And in a mafia sense, usually the boss is the "father" of the group. Bege for instance is called 'father' by his subordinates and has a similar mafia style gang that views each other as a pseudo-family.

Despite all this, he never refers to himself as a father or puts himself in that position. Even the executives that raised him (or I guess in Trebol's case pretty much groomed him) are never his 'parents'; they're just his 'family'.

While two of the other executives were around his age Pica(9) and Vergo (10), Diamante (16) and Trebol (18) were older than him (Trebol being 18 is pretty much considered an adult in One Piece) they were all still technically teenagers or kids. I doubt this was actually the inspiration, but I always saw his time with the gang when he was young as more of a Peter Pan and the Lost Boys situation, except in this case Peter Pan doesn't stay a child forever. Or even a kind of Lord of the Flies scenario. His main authority figures were both gone, one dying when he was 8 and the other being pretty ineffective to the point that he killed him two years later. He basically raised himself with the influence of people never telling him no, so it kinda makes sense that he's still an entitled brat.

His desire for control stems from the fact that he feels he hasn't had control of his life since he was a kid. Children usually just have to go along with the adults in their lives, and because of their immaturity and powerlessness, can resent them for this. It's not the same severity, but take a kid whose parents get divorced. There could be no real person at fault, or maybe the parents could have handled it better but they are trying their best. Even so, kids can come to hate one or more of them because they their parents to make their lives better since they can't really understand them being flawed people till they mature.

For Doflamingo, his dad failed them because of his decision to bring them to live among the humans and then his inability to fix the situation. As readers, we know Homing had good intentions and there wasn't a ton he could do in that situation, but he was also the main authority figure to his children. The way Oda wrote the flashback chapter, we hear the story unfold through Doffyh questioning his dad. He starts off confused but still respecting his father enough to go along with it, and slowly as things get out of control, he starts to hate him for their situation.

We don't see Homing stealing food with Doffy and Roci, instead it's Doffy who is looking after his brother and telling Roci to hurry up before they get caught. They are together when they get beaten but their dad isn't present. They are the ones who get food for their mom when she is sick. It's definitely possible their dad was trying to do something other than his failed attempt to get them back home which Doffy overhears (and is the only one to overhear in the Manga as opposed to the anime which has them all hear it). But from what we see, once things stop going the way he expected it, he just kinda gives up. This all culminates in the moment they get captured, which Homing doesn't seem to fight back with and instead just pleads with the townspeople.

He holds onto his kids, and while Roci just clings to his dad, Doffy seems to be trying to fight his way out of his grip. The anger which basically shapes the rest of his goals in the entire arc stem from his anger at being humiliated and made helpless by people he views as lesser than him. Along with the betrayal that the man he trusted to look after him has ruined his life.

Even Rocinante seems to have subconsciously learned from this. When he's with Law, he beats up hospital staff and sets the buildings on fire. He is willing to fight people for the person he is looking after. He knows he can't just plead with people to stop so he takes action instead. I don't think Homing was trying to be a bad father, but his actions definitely wounded both his kids in different ways and while Rocinante strikes a better balance between hating the world around him and being completely at its mercy by being kind but ready to fight, Doflamingo just sees everyone around him as a threat or a pest.

Even if the overall story of Dressrosa is less interesting in my opinion than the Law section, it definitely ties into the overall themes very well, IMO. King Riku is the pacifist King who is taken advantage of by the cruelty of Doflamingo. Kyros is someone who started off violent and hating the world but healed through his connection to those around him. But the guilt he carries from his previous actions leads him to hate himself and feel unable to even hold his child. When he teaches Rebecca to fight, he only wants her to do so defensively and ultimately she stops having to be a fighter once he returns and she has friends to support her. The dichotomy between the cruelty of the world and people wanting to be pacifist and kind sometimes going awry is very interesting.

Furthermore, consider Doffy's desire the Perenial Youth operation. Depending on the translation, different people have different ideas of what this is/does. From what I gather, its main purpose is to make you young forever so you don't die of old age. Whether or not this also makes you immune to damage is up for debate, but the idea of living forever is interesting. Being an ageless being is generally something associated with divinity, and since Doflamingo has a mega God-Complex stemming from both his celestial dragon upbringing and the enabling of Trebol and co, getting something like this makes sense. There is also another ageless character introduced in Dressrosa, Sugar, who no longer ages and is permanently stuck being physially a child despite actually being 22.

There's even theories that suggest Imu is a child because of their behaviour, size, and mannerisms (and we still have no idea what they look like). To me, this feels like there is a correlation between being immortal, godlike beings, but forever stuck as a child. In Doffy's case, it's more mentally than physically because as many people clown on him for, his hairline has deteriorated along with his mental stability.

All of Dressrosa is basically one big temper tantrum after Luffy took away all his toys. Even the one marine he actually respects/fears is just an older woman who calls him a good boy if he behaves 😭

So the fact that he's basically never grown up since he was 10, because of the experiences that pretty much mentally scarred him and the influences by everyone else, is almost reflected by his title. The title itself also being one more instance of a remnant of his previous life that he still clings to despite it being something that is and has been unattainable since he was a literal child.

[starboykel]

You're a lil cow at a hybrid farm, your farmer is the person you love the most, his name is John Price and he loves you too! but you're just a little stubborn cow who refuses to get breed and produce milk to his farm even though you were VERY expensive and that is getting on his nerves, your body was made to make more babies and produce warm milk but you doesn't want to get breed... Until he basically forces you by saying 'if you don't contribute to the farm, you won't be part of it' and of course, you can't quite survive in the wild so you follow your farmer to the stall and... and the bull is scary! he's big, dirty blonde hair, penetrating dark brown eyes that seem to look into your soul and his fur makes it looks like he has a skull on his face, he's twice your size and so intimidating! You're just a cute lil cow, why does you mate have to be so scary? Didn't Price had other bulls that weren't so terrifying?! Like the one with the funny accent or the one that was always wearing a sunglass, they look are definitely are less intimidating than... This thing!

...

Well, at least the babies you and him made are cute and strong, and your milk is as delicious as Price imagined.

[eggbem]

CW: Blood

"Don't touch him!"

---

"Context, please?" Shhhh. Sh, no. You don't need it. No context. Only turtle angst.

While I don't have any direct inspiration for this one, I am currently reading Synergy by @a-simple-gremlin AND firefight by @remedyturtles on ao3, so I am very much in a Disaster Twins Angst Headspace™.

Edit: found and added remrose's tumblr

[em-doods]

Co-godparenting ✨

[cowpants147]

I neeedddd more Foxes on TikTok content! Them doing their own versions of trending videos and challenges like the "dress up as something that starts with your first initial challeneg"

Allison, looking ethereal dressed like a literal Greek God, glammed to the heavens: I'm Allison, I'm dressed as Aphrodite and it's the onw year anniversary of my boyfriends death so I better be the drunkest tonight.

Renee, wearing a real leather F1 jacket/jumpsuit that Allison for some reason has in her closet with a blow up steering wheel in her hand: I'm Renee, I'm a race car driver and I think Nicky might be the drunkest.

Andrew, dressed exactly the same as normal but has a stethoscope around his neck and a piece of paper saying "Aaron" duct taped to his chest just stares into the camera for 30 seconds until it's obvious Allison will not be leaving without an answer: when Kevin starts puking I'm leaving.

Once everyone has given their answer the video enda with a pic of Nicky and Kevin passed out in a bathtub together.

Or the Trauma Dump Candy salad video which goes off the rails immediately and PSU makes them take down 3 hours after posting

"Hiiiiiii, I'm Nicky and I'm a gay teenage father of two and I brought Nerd Cluster Gummies"

"I'm Aaron and instead of going to rehab my evil doppelganger locked me in a bathroom w a blanket and a weeks worth of canned food and I brought Reeces"

"I'm Allison and my parents didn't even yell at my brother when he got expelled from boarding school for having coke in his room but I got kicked out of the house when I showed up to my deb ball with a black eye and a busted lip after playing (and winning) an exy game. They didn't even ask if I was OK. And I brought cherry flavoured Twizzlers"

"I'm Neil ans whenever I burn something while cooking I have a panic attack cause I start to think about burning my mother dead body in a ditch on the beach and I brought ... Andrew what are these called? Oh, I brought sour patch kids"

"I'm Kevin, I grew up in a cult and I brought raisins" except he's body tackled by a blonde blur before he gets a chance to dump the raisins into the bowl.

Them posting stupid shit to popular sounds:

Aaron, sat on the couch, study notes laid out around him, energy drink cans littering the place: I want to sit back and enjoy my my evening when all of a sudden ...

Camera flashes across the room to Neil just minding his own business: ... I hear this aggravating, grating voice

***

The "My Shalya" sound over clips of Neil absolutely violating people.

***

Zoom up of Kevin in full Queen Day sttess mode on the sidelines of practice with the sound "yes I'm a drama queen, but it's not by choice" playing over it and when it gets the "it's genetic" part the video zooms out to show Wymaxk next to him with the exact hand on hip, stressed look on his face

***

Renee doing the "actually I do cuss a little" sound while she's getting her gear on to spar with Andrew and when it reaches the "probably fuck" portion of the audio the clip switches to her taking Andrew downnnn. And then there's a beat drop just cause.

***

Another edit of Neil but with the "am I the drama? I don't think I'm drama" sound.

***

Upperclassmen scrolling through news articles or flipping through sports news channels rhag are reporting on them while miming along to "is this fucking play about us"

***

Some teammates, probably upperclasmen, definitely Nicky also miming along to "I'm sorry, not everybody fits in the bad bitch genre, it's a genre, not everybody fits on the he roster" while dressed in full exy uniform, with the caption "when you're coach only recruits the most traumatised bitches"

And forcing teammates to do "day in the life" "what i eat in a day as a member of the most fucked up exy team" and "ootd" videos.

Andrew (bribed with alcohol, ice cream and ten dollars) does a What I Eat in a Day as depressed mother of 3 whose forced to play stickball. There's no sound, its just the picture carousel style w block letters next to pics of his food:

Breakfast is a massive mug of hot chocolate with half a can of squirty cream and marshmallows.

Breakfast 2 is a big bowl of whatever sugary flavour cereal that's overflowing w E Numbers and almost illegal food dye you guys have in the US.

Snack 1 is a chocolate bar.

Lunch is a slice of pizza, fries and then there's a hand forcing salad onto his plate. Andrew adds a note to this pic saying "I'm allergic to green, Kevin's trying to kill me"

Snack 2 is a an energy drink and a cigarette

Dinner is a pint of ice cream

Midnight snack is just a pic of Neil which Andrew thinks is an obvious coming out without coming out vibe but everyone is immediately worried about Neil's safety and there endals up being a Reddit thread about Andrew being a cannibal.

Then they post a follow up video of Kevin reacting to this and he just watches on in despair saying "no. no. Andrew you have a nutritionist!"

[lovelyghst]

craving consensual somno with (slightly intoxicated) simon riley and his (extremely heavy sleeper) girl. take this as ur warnings.

just him coming home late at night as usual, the bourbon in his system keeping him loosened up and tranquil, yet ever so cognizant as he enters your shared bedroom. those familiar creepy-crawlies invading his stomach with boyish excitement to see you, and quickly turning towards his dick when he lays eyes on your pretty body.

it’s nearly a routine at this point; you purposely fall asleep in these skimpy, two-piece pajamas, usually some sort of small berries, cherries, or flowers adorning the thin, white fabric that leaves little to the imagination, knowing it’ll get him all worked up. the curtains are left pulled and the door cracked open, you kick the covers off and lay with a pillow hugged tightly in your arms beneath you to give him the best view; infinite signs telling him you want it just as bad as he does. it is routine, but it gets so him riled up, each and every time.

he trudges over, as quietly as the tipsy man can manage to the end of your bed, and with tunnel-vision on your exposed thighs. even his jaw fallen slack just a bit in hunger. desperate to get his hands on you after being apart for so long, and wanting to soothe that ache in his cock he hadn’t even realized he was palming through his jeans.

you barely stir when he kneels on the foot of the bed, and neither when he crawls above you and places a kiss right behind your ear.

he presses a cold palm to your shoulder, attempting to urge you onto your back to give him a visual of your features. to let him see your curves in the raw moonlight, how the dainty material of your pajamas becomes a tad bit see-through around your tits and incidentally rides up past your bellybutton, endless thoughts running through his dazed mind as he eventually manages to flip you over successfully.

though, your sleepy hum suddenly alerts him to a standstill, his worst nightmare being to wake you from your serene rest. not now, anyway.

“shhh, sweetheart,” he gently coaxes you, and he can’t help the grin spanning his lips when you mumble the first syllable of his name in that questioning, dreamy tone. he clears fallen hair from your face, slipping his pillow from your grasp as he mutters, “yeah, dovie, s’only me. you’re okay, you’re safe… jus’ go back to sleep for me, now.”

your unconscious mind obeys like clockwork, the smallest of smiles curling your lip corners in contentment, and it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s returning to his endeavors.

kissing all across your exposed collarbone, thoughtlessly slipping a finger or two beneath the strap of your little pajama shirt and carefully allowing it to glide down your shoulder as he repeats the process on the other side. peppering kisses to your soft skin, before rolling the fabric upward from the bottom so he can properly pay attention to the rest of your chest and tummy.

lips grazing your sternum with short, controlled breaths fanning your sensitive parts; aware of how easily ticklish you are and attempting not to light that fuse, equally straining himself in not turning too feverish as he takes your hardened nipple in his mouth and paws at the other in his hand.

he works his way down slowly but surely, until he’s pulling your shorts off with tender hands and unveiling your bare, soaked pussy, and he can’t even think to suppress the low groan pushed from his lungs at the sight in front of him. he inches forward with nearly crossed eyes, taking incisive ministrations in lifting your legs up and over his back.

your breathing hitches a bit in your slumber when he licks an almost reluctant yet long stripe from your hole to your clit, unable to give himself a moment to savor it before he’s diving back in for more.

“missed this pretty, little cunt on my tongue, baby… christ,” he chuckles lightly to himself, “good girl’s gonna be the death o’ me.”

he sloppily makes-out with your pussy, any and all devotions of rhythm and precision thrown far from his intentions. he only gets to be selfish when he has you like this, and he’d be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of the opportunity as it’s laid out on his bed. moaning at your wetness and taste, how your pussy drools for more and coats his chin with a slick he devours like a madman deprived.

the small whines you make in your sleep are nothing but precious to simon, burning them into his brain like any other occasion he’s pulled them from your lips. saving them for the later times like when he’s a thousand miles away, locked away in some office, and can’t possibly bring himself to bother you with a pestering, horny phone call.

you turn your head to the side with a hum, empty hands reaching for any semblance of comfort on your abdomen, which rather concerns him for a moment until he realizes just what you want.

he gives you one of his hands and you blindly accept it, wrapping your smaller fingers around his wrist and thumb to pull the appendage closer. resting just below your ribcage, satisfied and holding it close like you would a teddy bear.

“sweet thing… always loved this perfect pussy,” he mumbles right up against your warmth, quiet as to not disrupt your blissful obliviousness in your sleep. he’s utterly drunk on you and your taste, and the alcohol he had beforehand certainly contributes to his filthy, forward language.

“how easy y’get on my mouth, ‘nd yet how tight you are around my cock… fuckin’ hell—”

he watches intently as the tips of his fingers delve between your folds, gradually disappearing whilst your chest begins to heave a little heavier; a faint, broken noise of pleasure omitting straight from your throat. tightening around his digits as he pushes them further in, just as you do wrapped around his cock when you’re conscious.

he’s not thinking straight; he’s merely experimenting with you as he curls his fingers upward, prodding at that gummy spot in your cunt and greedily sucking on your clit to push you over. toying with you, rather, because the face you make when you’re first emerged from your slumber with a mind-shattering orgasm is truly priceless.

your eyes snap open as you come around his digits, squeezing his hands tight with your vision going blank. the high is strong but you don’t allow it to last very long when the dots in your brain are connecting, turning you all excited for the implications of it all.

erratically catching your breath with a huge grin on your face, matching his as he comes up to greet you. he’s stupid, shamelessly drunk on your taste, and it radiates from his expression as if he just witnessed a star being born right before his muddy eyes.

you haven’t a clue what just happened, but you fucking loved every sober second of it.

and before you know it, he’s coming back up to meet your lips with his own, which you graciously accept, taste of slick and alcohol and all. humming as he slips his greedy hands upward and behind your back, giggling when he impatiently flips over on his back and hauls you with him. til you’re curled up by his side, halfway on his chest whilst one leg slips between both of his bulky ones.

“i‘m glad you’re home…” nearly a pout, “really missed you, si.”

you’re the first one to speak, quietly, sincere as ever as you examine his pretty face. the faint bags beneath his lids, the wetness that sticks to his dirty-blond stubble. his rough and gruff exterior that hides behind it a boy who’s absolutely and utterly whipped for you.

“that right?” he taunts, eyes remaining shut. “and my tongue, i bet?”

you shy away with a laugh. he won’t remember these words in the morning, but you’ve always loved how cocky and brazen he gets with a couple of drinks running through his blood.

“i missed all of you...”

his eyes barely have to open for him to effectively, and lovingly, judge you with a mere glance. it’s one of his talents.

“some parts more than others, clearly.”

“that’s not true,” you contest, but the humorous hesitancy and sheepishness in your voice tells him otherwise.

“sure, baby, sure.” he takes a moment to breathe, overtly proud of himself. “y’missed my mouth, n’ my hands. even with how rough they are with ya sometimes, yeah?” you hide your flushed face in his neck with a groan, praying this embarrassment is short-lived though preparing for the worst as you feel his lips inch closer to your ear.

“prob’ly missed me fuckin’ my cock into that tight, little cunt—”

“okay, fine!” you finally admit and pull away defensively, slapping his chest but only earning a laugh from him. “but i definitely don’t miss that dirty brain of yours, you big dog.”

“you love me anyway,” he states, matter-of-factly.

you give a big smooch to his forehead, then the bridge of his nose, and then down to his lips, which he returns.

“i do. a lot,” you add and he hums, feeling fulfilled.

and, oh, he’s so fulfilled with you. you take care of him by allowing him to take care of you, and it’s a two-way street. you ground each other whilst never forcing one to tether themself to earth.

you sit up to fix your top, smoothing over the fabric and shrugging the straps back into place. shimmying back into your shorts when you catch a glimpse of the large man’s dark jeans contrasting your light sheets, belt buckle glimmering in the corner of your eye.

“simon, honey, you need to change before you—”

you look over and are suddenly forced to stifle a giggle when you discover that the poor man has fallen asleep, a droopy smile still ornamenting his slick-covered face. taking your hand and swiping the apple of his cheek with your thumb, you’re pleased when he doesn’t budge one bit. dragging it downwards past his muscled chest and abdomen, landing just beneath his leather belt.

your fingertips trace his hard-on over the jeans, knowing you can’t just leave him like this, all aching and pent up and too exhausted to do anything about it himself.

maybe you could do him a favor and return the sweet gesture? <3

[stereoqueen]

dandelion - q.hughes

summary: quinn finds out you have feelings for him and decides let it happen, because deep down…. he wants it too. (nsfw 18+ content)

listened to dandelion by ariana while writing and got inspired!

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Lake house summers with Luke were some of her best memories growing up. She was nervous to go this summer though, as she hasn’t seen all of them since two summers ago. Something was different when she showed up to the house. Luke was the same old Luke, being the same 12 year old boy who she met long ago. The others however, looked at her differently.

Maybe it was the way her hair had grown out?

Maybe it was the way she didn’t hide her body in Adam Sandler clothing anymore?

Or maybe, she was just overthinking it.

She then learned that the real reason was because the guys found her attractive and couldn’t say anything due to Luke’s “off limits” rule. When Y/n overheard Trevor talking about it, she realized that she could raise the stakes.

Quinn, being the good older brother he was, had no problems sticking to this rule, until she actually showed up. It was taunting him. Low cut bikinis, long tan legs, gorgeous hair, she looked like a goddess in human form.

She was hard not to stare at, and thank god he had sunglasses on the first boat day when she magically showed up. Jack’s group of friends flirted with her relentlessly, while Quinn sat back and watched from a far. He watched how her hair blew in the wind, how her body glowed in the sunlight, and how if he looked close enough to her hip bone — he could see the outline of a tattoo. What he didn’t notice is how she matched his longing gazes.

He was now desperate, hoping that maybe he could make a move…. until she made a move first.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

“I can’t answer that—“ She says, blush forming over her face as she talks with her best friend, Emma, over speaker phone. The boys had gone out to golf, and she told them she wanted to stay behind and have a chill day.

“Cmonnn, there’s gotta be one person in that house you’d want to fuck without consequences. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” Emma pleas as y/n moves from her desk to laying on her bed, stomach down, legs up in the air crossed.

“Okay, tell me yours first!” She asks as Emma blurts out “Trevor Zegras, for sure.”

“Honey not Trevor the man whore!” Y/n jokes as they both laugh.

“I mean he’s gorgeous, plays hockey, and has a body like a Greek god. I know he would be a good own night stand based on his reviews,” She states as Y/n continues to laugh. “Tell me yours!!” Y/n sighs, “Okay, there is one, but it would never happen,” Emma squeals at the words.

What she didn’t know is that in the moment, Quinn had come home from golfing early, and was looking for her. When he found her, she was caught in her little fantasy. He was walking up the stairs when he started to hear her voice from the hall.

“You know I’ve always had a crush on Quinn. Luke would kill me but if there was no consequences….. I’d do him….” she trails off as her bestfriend is surprised.

Quinn continued to walk down the hall to see her door half cracked. He could hear some of the conversation going on between y/n and her best friend, but not very clearly. He swore that he heard her say that she had a crush on him? Inching closer to her bedroom, the conversation got louder.

“I thought you’d say that you had something for Luke— but QUINN?” her best friend says loudly over the speaker. Quinn smirks, looking down to see if his phone is on silent. He looks up to see her laid down on her bed, her ass fully on display in front of him as she filed her nails.

“There’s just something about the older guys. I find it hot, the age gap mean. Nothing too extreme, like 4-5 years. But I find everything about that man sexy — always have. His eyes, his smile, his arms, his thighs, oh my god— I could go on. I just want to run my hands in his hair and make him beg for me. I wouldn’t mind if it was the other way around though. I have a feeling that he is a big man. Plus the beard look he had during playoffs recently made me have a physical reaction. and…” Y/n stops as her friend whines through the phone “and what?! you can’t leave me on a cliffhanger,”

“Luke told me how he learned some things from Quinn before he went to school. The stories I heard— I would love to experience it,” Y/n says as her friend cackles, “Shit I’d go for it if I were you, regardless of what Luke says. Play dirty!”

“He would absolutely kill me. I already feel bad enough rejecting him years ago. His little puppy crush. If he saw me with his older brother…. I don’t know how he’d take it. He’s still my best friend,”

“If he was a real best friend like me, he’d want you to be happy. If that means you fuck his brother to be happy… then so be it!” Y/n laughs as her best friend’s honesty as she stands up, walking to her full length mirror. She puts her phone down on the desk as she looks at herself in the mirror. Analyzing what she needs to fix for tonight — different outfit, different jewelry, for sure different underwear as she was wet from talking about her crush on Quinn.

“Well, I gotta go figure out what I’m wearing tonight. I need to shower too, I’ll talk to you later?” Y/n tells her as they mutually hang up.

She turns on a playlist as she starts to undress in front of the mirror. The song, Timeless by The Weeknd plays as she hums along. She again, analyzes herself in the mirror, then walks into the bathroom to shower.

A shocked Quinn is now sitting against the wall next to her door. Not only had she confessed feelings and in detail, but she also had stripped. The thoughts running through his mind made a tent form in his pants. Embarrassed, he felt like he had invaded her privacy — not like he was trying to. But he felt starstruck. “I gotta figure out what to do,” he mumbles to himself as he walks to his room.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hours had passed, and the whole house was booming with music. The party was starting downstairs and Y/n was of course, behind. She didn’t get the memo that it was a swimsuit party, causing her to rethink her outfit choices. Her hair was in soft curls which went down to her waist. She was wearing a dark blue bikini, and a green wrap around her waist. The gold waist chain sparkled as she touched herself up in the mirror. Y/n was hoping to get the attention of a certain Hughes tonight, and was praying only he would notice. She was wearing his colors for a reason.

The knock on her door brought her back to reality, and she rushed to open it. A grinning Trevor was on the other side, causing Y/n to drop her smile.

“Wow, you look extra hot tonight!” Trevor says as Y/n shuts the door behind her.

“I try my best,” She replies smirking as she follows him down the hall and down the stairs to the party.

The party is loud, people everywhere, booze in every corner. Luke was playing beer pong with Ethan, Dylan and Mark. Jack was on the other side of the room with Cole and Alex waiting for Trevor.

“I’m going to get a drink from the kitchen,” Y/n says as she separates from Trevor. No sign of the Hughes she wanted to see.

Entering the kitchen, she opens the fridge to see her drink of choice being gone. Confused, she goes outside onto the patio to see if there’s any in the cooler. To her surprise, there was one left, and the Hughes she was looking for sitting on the deck.

Quinn sees her walk onto the patio from the kitchen, and he is stunned by the sight. The dark blue swimsuit makes her freshly tanned skin pop, the green wrap around her waist drawled his attention closer and closer to the tattoo. He smirked at the fact she was wearing his colors. Coincidence? Never. He thought to himself.

The pair make eye contact as she shuts the cooler. Quinn pats the seat next to him, “Sit— if you want,”

Y/n boldly sits not next to him, but on him.

“Hi,” She says as he sits up, grabbing her waist to keep her steady, “This seat is nice too.”

He smirks, putting his drink down so he has both hands on her waist. He pulls on the chain, feeling the coolness of it against her hot skin.

“You’ve grown bold in your older age, little dandelion,” The old nickname falls off of his tongue before he could stop himself.

“I can’t believe you remember that, Hughes,” She replies smoothly, as she adjusts herself on his lap, causing him to groan.

“Don’t start something you don’t want to finish,” Quinn halfway growls as Y/n leans more into him. She leans down to whisper in his ear “But didn’t you like what you saw earlier?” He froze at her words, giving her ample time to jerk up from his lap.

Standing up to walk away, he grabs her wrist.

“You really want me?” He asks as she flashes him a smile.

“If I’m being honest, you can get anything you’d like. Can it be me you want?” She says, voice like honey as she walks back inside.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

NSFW (18+)

A flustered Quinn follows as she anxiously gets to her room. Shutting the door, it was interrupted by Quinn barreling in. She sat on the bed, taking off her wrap slowly, causing Quinn to hurry and lock the door.

“Your words and body have been running through my mind all damn day,” He says, voice rough as he stands in between her legs. She leans back, sighing.

“Guess Emma was right to play dirty. I wanna play dirty, Quinn. Can I play dirty?” She asks him as her hand goes into his shorts. His head tilts back, groan coming off of his lips again. “Baby what’s your wishlist? I can make it come true, Captain,”

His head whipped back as his hand went to her throat. He squeezed the sides gently as she leaned her head back to meet his gaze. “On your knees.”

He let go as Y/n practically jumped off the bed and onto the floor. She quickly took off his shorts, dick springing out as she looked up through her eyes to see his darken. Taking her sweet time getting to work, she sucked him off like he was the last lollipop at the candy store. Quinn was loosing his mind about how good she was at giving head. All the fucked up fantasies he has had about her in the last two years had nothing on this moment. She was a fucking angel, and her mouth felt like heaven.

“Oh angel don’t stop—“ Quinn says breathily as she went deeper and deeper. He lightly pushes her head down as he hits his high. The pornographic moan that exits his mouth was muffled by the music from downstairs. She swallows, looking up at him as she does, causing Quinn to smirk. She kissed his tip as she kissed up his torso, standing up slowly. He couldn’t take it anymore and picked her up, kissing her face roughly.

Making out after head had got to be top 5 hottest things a man had ever done to Y/n. Seeing him not care about how she looked or even tasted turned her on even more. They break apart as she takes of his shirt in one go. “This isn’t very fair, let me see you,” He murmured as she gave into him.

“You can take it off, I know you know how,” She replied as she felt his hands rake up her hips, onto her lower back to undo her swimsuit. He unties it in one go, letting the top fall the the floor. Both hands grab onto her boobs causing her to lean into it. “Oh my god, you’re so gorgeous,” He said as he starts leans down to kiss her chest. Peck by peck, breast by breast he adored her as she ran a hand through his hair. (his hair was just as she imagined)

He makes his way down to her bottoms, pulling them down to find her soaking wet for him, “All for me?” She nods shyly, stepping out of her bottoms as he kisses her hips. He sees the tattoo “Candy” and almost combusts right there on the spot.

“I’m sweet as candy, you should have a taste, Quinn,” She says as he throws her lightly on the bed. Her legs open up as he dives right in, finally tasting her. She was right, she was sweet like candy, and he was savoring every moment in between her legs. He toyed with her clit, pushing two fingers in and out, causing her back to arch up. “Oh Q, please, don’t stop,” She breathed out as she pushed his head down, hands in his dark curls. The smirk on his face could be felt on her core as he picked up his pace. He could feel her tightening up as he put a third finger in. “Yes— Yes oh God,” She moaned as he pushed her to her climax.

“That wasn’t God who made you feel like that, it was me — dandelion,” The older man tutted as he leaned up to kiss her.

The kiss deepens as she flips him so she is on top. “Got one more in you?” She asks as he leans back on the headboard. His hands are behind his head as she stands near her nightstand. “What do you have in mind, gorgeous?” He asks as she pulls a condom from her bedside table. She opens it, reaching down with one hand to slide it over him. He winces, feeling the constriction.

“I wanna take you for a ride,” She says seductively in his ear as he grabs her hips, pulling her onto the bed and on top of him. Quinn has a tight grip on her sides as she angles herself onto him. They match each other’s moans as she slowly started to ride him. His head is thrown back by the movement, and she puts her hand on his head, lightly gripping his hair to pull his head back up. “Let me see you when I ride you,” the act of dominance causes him to groan as they both picked up the pace.

The bed creaks slightly following the rhythm of her bouncing vs his fucking back into her. Quinn is on cloud fucking nine as he watches her, boobs bouncing, hair flowing back just like it was on the boat.

Y/n was in awe watching him watch her. His lips were parted, sweat beaded on his forehead, and a look in his eyes that made her want to fuck him harder. She knew that look, it was bliss.

She bounced harder, pace quickening as they were both close to their high, “Baby this is serious, I want you, I need you to cum— cum in me please,” Her voice was enough to keep him going.

“You sure?” He asked, she nodded, unable to give words but her body reacted — clenching around him. “Don’t stop, oh—“ She told him as she rode out her high.

Quinn was turned on all over again when she came on top of him, pounding into her to reach his shortly after. “C’mon, let me give you what you want,” He said gruffly as she moaned louder, overstimulated from her last orgasm. Y/n leaned over to kiss him, letting him reach a new angle which caused them both to reach their climax. He moaned into her mouth as he came inside her. He pulled out quickly after, and she could feel him dripping out of her.

The pair laugh, Quinn kissing her again as she rolled onto the bed. He put his arm around her and she cuddled in close. “I didn’t know my dandelion had that in her?” He said questionably as she hid her face into his chest. “It’s a one time experience, you heard me earlier,” She mumbled into him as he lifted her chin up, eyes locking. “What if I want this to be serious?” He said softly as her eyes softened.

The knock and jiggle on the door causes them to snap up. “Y/n? Have you seen Quinn lately? I think he got lost?” Luke said drunkenly at her door, causing her to laugh. She looks at Quinn, pecks him on the lips, “Haven’t seen him, Lu! Sorry!”

“You talked about how bad you want me, seduced me with your gorgeous body in Canucks colors, and now lied to my brother about having me in your room? Oh this is going to get serious because I don’t wanna let you slip away,” Quinn told her as she smiled.

“I’ll be your dandelion, Cap,” Her words, specifically the nickname Cap causing him to kiss her again.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[a66-1]

"You lied to me Simon." You spat, hands clenched into balls by your sides, anger clouding your judgment.

His eyes kept steady on yours, brows drawn close and lips pursed. He held a similar stance, ears ringing from his own thoughts. He hadn't lied, he couldn't have. He was nothing but truthful to those he trusted.

"I don't know what you're talking about, love, I—" He started, but you cut him off with a hand.

"Love, I-I haven't.. I don't know what you're on about." He says, hands achingly hovering over your arms. You hug yourself, taking a step back.

"I'm not an idiot. I don't know who you think your talking to, but you don't seriously have the balls to lie to my face." You scoffed, hands close to your chest, trying to convey in every way possible that you're hurt by him. That you've lost the faith you once had in him. He was an idiot for lying, but now this—eye to eye, heart to heart? He started towards you, hands trying to make contact with your face, but you brushed him off.

"Miranda." You seethed. "I saw the texts she sent you. And I know you were drinking last Friday, and you came home late."

He paused, eyes searching for understanding, and then dread seeped from his head to his toes. He remembered now, the.. The hazy memories buried deep for a reason, fear keeping them nauseatingly close incase you found out. He tried to reach for you once more, but your back turned on him before his thoughts could form into words you'd actually listen to. You had your bags packed long before he was gonna be back from his day out, and the last thing he had planned on doing tonight was sleeping alone.

He didn't try.. Going after you again, his shame brewing until it's all his body could understand. He hadn't meant for that.. Fuck up to be life altering, and soul crushing, but.. It had been. A few words and a kiss meant nothing like you had. His soul had intertwined with yours like candles, melting into one another until you couldn't differentiate who was who, what was what.

Within a week, his apartment shared with you was once again dull and gray like it was before you. His routine with you was no longer with you, making his days leaker then normal. But, like his dad always said, he would never find that spark again, and you know why?

Like the whispers his dad would grind into his memory until it was all he could think about: he deserved it.

[blumineck]

What is an archer twunk like you doing on tumblr.com?

What am I doing here? I was always here...

I have seen memes rise and fall. I have witnessed the birth of legends, and I have seen them burn in the fires of the sun they strove to touch. Under my watchful eye, nine became ten, the angel met the hunter. I watched their alliance carve great swathes over the memescape, invading everything they touched, before fading into memory.

I have seen the colour of the sky, and felt the pain of a million locked hearts as the great detective waned with each passing season.

Yet I was not content to observe. I too sought to touch that incandescent orb. I have made such posts as could cause a grown man to shrivel into his own skeleton at the recollection of the ignorance of youth. Here I first felt the heady pull of 10 notes, the righteous fury of one wronged by a stranger, and the abiding shame of a stranger called out for wrongs of his own.

What am I doing here?

This place is my home. It has shaped me, moulded me. It has twisted my perception in ways that I cannot reverse, though I have travelled far, and witnessed much that is otherwise.

And now, having found some small measure of recognition, I return to the fold, bringing the skills and knowledge of far off places- gifts to educate and amuse, to quench as-yet-unknown thirsts. And you ask me: what am I doing here?

I'm doing what I've always done. I'm just better at it now.

(Also, some of y'all said you wanted to watch my videos without needing to get tiktok, so I thought I might as well post them here before someone else did)

[mooshroomterrarium]

when you drop a tnt minecart on your mom, killing her instantly

[rebouks]

High School Deco Sims

A collection of 60 high school decosims including a few teachers and some gym class variations 🤸‍♀️

All LODS (properly decimated etc.)

Custom thumbnails!

Very high poly! Some aren't so bad at 20-30k but the boys uniform in particular is high af at around 50k.. I've decimated them as much as possible but alas, beware/remove when not in use!

Seem fine with mxao/DOF etc.

Matching Uniform: Boys | Girls

PE/Gym Uniform: Boys Top | Girls Top | Shorts

DOWNLOAD: PATREON; FREE | SFS

If you appreciate my cc, please consider donating to my Ko-fi ☕🌿

TOU: use and share as you wish, but don't claim as your own or place behind a paywall, that includes paywalled builds plx and ty - link back to this post if u wanna be extra nice ig.. 🖤

[sadagios]

wow.. the notes on the wip... ur not ready for the finished piece

[1chaerry]

somewhere in the past pt.1

summary: The world moves forward, but ghosts never rest. A familiar ship on the horizon. A name she has not spoken in years. A storm long overdue. Some things were meant to stay buried. Some things refuse to be forgotten.

c.w. : MAJOR SPOILERS for One Piece Film: Red, angst, mentions of violence, plot centric

Disclaimer: Reader is called "Saram" meaning "Human/Person"

happy birthday Shanks, you childish, unhinged, serious blasted pirate, love you.

part 2

Saram always believed herself to be Shanks' daughter, his blood daughter, born from a one night stand with a beautiful woman in a nameless island, despite not having the same hair and eyes as him, she called herself his daughter. His one and only daughter. She was was not someone who could be replaced or forgotten, family is never left behind, he promised her and she believed him, who else would she believe if not her own father? If not her own father who saved her when her mother had left her behind in death, if not her father who gave her a warm home when she was stood in the cold, snowy alley, then who?

Laughter echoed throughout the deck as she watched perched on top of a crate, cheek resting on her fist as she watched the crew celebrate Uta’s birthday, a smile on her lips as she watched Shanks laughed with the four year old on his shoulders, she cradled a mug of juice to herself with her other hand, watched as Beckman looked frustrated at Shanks' antics but the twitch of his lips was unmistakable, he was not annoyed, he was enjoying this.

Uta had turned four, the dual haired girl looking more and more like Shanks as she grew from a baby, the red of her dual hair made her seem like Shanks' daughter, an appearance that named her as his. Saram smiled as Uta giggled, babbling leaving her as she was hoisted around, she really loved the younger girl. Hongo and the others gestured and called her over and she ran to them, leaving the mug on the crate alone as she ran into the arms of Shanks; Uta giggled on top of Shanks' shoulders while Saram smiled brightly as his large, warm hand ruffled her her hair, caressing her face with love.

This was perfect, this was the best life she could ask for, her perfect life, she was happy, her crew and her sister, and most of all she had her fath—

“Saram!”

Her eyes snapped open before closing them immediately as the harsh sun peered directly into her irises, she groaned, rubbing her face as she stretched her arms above her head, she noticed the crate she was on top of and realizes that she must have fallen asleep after training with Dorry. She looked up at the towering figure of Beckman, his cigar between his lips as he looked down at her, hand on his hip.

“You missed afternoon training.” He said, voice not unkind but not soft either, her eyes looked up into his, they weren't as kind as she remembered them to be, Beckman had kinder eyes, he may have been a tough man but he used to be kind to her, nice to her, all she can see now is disappointment and her skin crawls.

“Sorry,” She mumbled, “I didn't realize the time.” 

“You should be more alert, sleeping while you should be training is careless, don't you think?”

“Sorry, Beckman.” Saram apologized again.

His eyes studied the eleven year old for a moment, her eyes were downcast as he caught sight of the blisters and cracked skin on her hands, he remembers that Dorry trained her in the morning and wonders how harsh he was.

Saram kept looking down, she knew he was disappointed, he probably was thinking that Dorry hadn't trained her hard enough, that her hands were too pretty to belong to a pirate, that she wasn't trying enough, she knew because no one knew this crew better than Saram, even more than they knew themselves.

“I'll go and see if Lime Juice needs help in the storage.” She runs off before Beckman can say anything more, he frowned ever so slightly as she ran off.

Saram's heart pounds as she runs to the storage room, she doesn't want to see it, that look of disappointment that everyone seems to carry in their eyes, the look that never leaves them when they look at her, the look that makes her skin crawl and her lungs burn, she hated it, she didn't want their pity, she didn't want to be a disappointment.

“Calm down, stop acting like a child.” She chided herself quietly as she walked by the kitchen, feet stopping before she could understand why, ah..., she chewed the skin of her lower lip as she blinked. Lucky and Uta, making cupcakes, smiling and laughing, not a care in the world. She walked away quietly, her heart beating slowly as she made her way to the storage room.

She didn't know when they stopped looking for her to show her interesting things, to show her weapons, to show her books, to show her recipes, to show her love. It was a blurry memory, Saram didn't put much thought to it, except on cold, moonlight nights when she sat with everyone on deck to have dinner, loud laughter and clanking of metal against plates, the jokes, the shanties, the stories - as a child she loved meal times, the warmth it brought her, the way she would wait eagerly for dessert.

Saram smiled as Rockstar placed a piece of meat on her plate, she thanked him and he nodded from across her, the sound of loud laughter caught their attention and they looked at the source, the bright lights were a failure in comparison to the glow of Uta and the crew, warm and kind, Uta grumbled playfully as Shanks rubbed her head while sitting beside her, Beckman across them, Hongo on the other side beside Uta: everyone was scattered around the table, interacting, Rockstar also began talking to the other recruits.

Her eyes were on Shanks and Uta, the similarities between them, Uta’s dual hair side of red and Shanks' red, their smiles and even their actions were similar: Saram smiled as she watched them, watching how Shanks snuck pieces of vegetables onto the young girl's already full plate, watching as Beckman lightly pushed a glass of water towards her, watching as Lucky promised deserts after dinner, watching and watching and watching.

Tearing her gaze away, Saram focused onto her own plate, the piece of meat red and seared, eyeing the only thing on her plate with an unknown gaze she picked up her utensils and cut into it, taking a piece onto her fork she brought it to her mouth and bit into it, chewing. She kept cutting into it and chewing, cut and chew, her movements practiced, she blinked slowly, the smile still on her lips, she chewed as she pondered.

It's cold.

Lucky was picking up the dishes and cleaning up when he stopped, staring at the plate at the end of the table, the sight of the half eaten meat and barely eaten cookie, he sighed, Saram, shaking his head and cleaning up the plate, Lucky put the dishes to be washed.

Lucky didn't know when Saram stopped finishing her meals, when she stopped asking for seconds, when she stopped eating the desserts he made, when she stopped making food with him, when she stopped coming to him. She used to spend hours in the kitchen with him after practice with Beckman but now he barely saw her, not at breakfast, not at lunch, not at dinner - she was never in sight but always somewhere on the ship, unless it was her chore time or her training time.

He wondered if Saram still liked those chocolate chip cookies that he used to make.

Yasopp was dozing off in a corner on deck when he heard footsteps, too light, too quiet to be of the burly and loud men of the crew, to soft to be the loud stomps of Uta. He peeled an eye open, watching quietly as Saram walked towards the railing, looking around if someone was there, he was pretty sure she couldn't see him as he practically hidden in the shadows.

Curiously, he tried to understand why Saram was sneaking here so quietly, so tense, he grinned thinking she must have committed some mischief or escaped training, as Uta often did, and that must be why she was sneaking around. He was about to get up and go tease her when he heard a sniffle. 

His grin faltered as she wiped away at her eyes constantly, sitting on the ground and leaning against the railing. She cried quietly, wiping away her tears, snuffling. There was a bitter feeling in his chest as he watched her quietly cry. Yasopp felt something in him falter as he watched her quietly cry in a secluded place, away from prying eyes, not a sound out of her. 

Yasopp was about to go to her when Dorry’s voice called her, “Saram! Training time!”

He expected her to not reply or move, to his surprise she yelled out, “Coming!”

He quietly watched as she wiped her eyes, pats her cheeks, takes a deep breathe in and his heart stammers as she looked perfectly calm in a matter of seconds. Yasopp’s grip on the crate tightened as he watched her walk away.

Elegia was a kingdom that Saram heard much about, from gossip and rumors, from information in novels and maps. She leaned against the railing beside the steering, sweaty from the afternoon practice as she watched the island draw closer, her eyes glanced to her side, watching Shanks navigate the worn-out wooden wheel, the ease with which he moved it with his hands never failed to amaze her.

“Do you think someday I can do that?”

She had asked him once, years ago when she was younger, smaller, louder, more bright.

“Of course! Who else can if not you?” 

He had smiled back then, pearly whites flashing, red eyes gleaming, mirth in them, she loved his red eyes, they were her favorite color: carmine.

But that was when she was young, when she was his only daughter, when she was still someone who could push her rights over him. Now gone was that little girl with mirth and that man with bright carmine eyes.

“You wanna try?” He suddenly says, snapping her out of her thoughts as she turns to face him for a moment.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you're old enough to try, no?” He gave a smile but she felt cold, her skin crawling.

“I'd rather not, maybe you should tell Uta.” She tapped her fingers against the railing, instinctively, a habit that developed over the years, a habit that she didn't know.

His smile fell slightly, the beginning of a frown on his lips, carmine eyes narrowing slightly as he steered the wheel, eyes on her.

“You always wanted to do it, didn't you?”

She blinked, right, she always did want to do it. She believed hat it was her right as his daughter to be the first among other children to steer it. To hold it. To navigate.

But all she remembers as she glanced at the steering was that one night on her birthday when she saw Shanks teaching a much younger Uta how to navigate the wheel. The wheel that he never allowed her to touch when she was that young. The smile on Shanks' face as he taught Uta and the quiet giggles of Uta; secrets of a moonlit night that Saram was not supposed to be apart off.

She smiled and looked forward, away from him, away from the wheel, “I grew out of it.”

He didn't answer and she didn't look back, Saram had long grown tired of looking back, of looking for warmth that evaded her, of looking for light that would help her. She had grown tired of constantly looking back and never seeing her father look back at her with the same adoration she used to see in his eyes.

When the ship docked, Saram found herself staring at the Kingdom of music with awe: it was beautiful. Breathtaking, even. Her heart stammered as she stared at the architecture as they got ready to unload. Uta was the first one on the ship, smiling and excited tagged along by a grinning Shanks and Yasopp, Beckman and the other following close behind. 

She would have walked off alone if not for Dorry smiling down at her and extending his hand at her, majorly his finger, the giant was warm, he felt like warmth on a cold summer night, the scent of the nature clung to him and she found herself holding his finger with her hand which was way too small compared to his giant finger.

“Let's go lass.” He smiled at her.

Saram nodded, her skin didn't crawl.

The city itself was beautiful, mesmerizing, drawing in people and bustling with merchants. She walked around, eyes darting from stall to stall, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes as she looked through the different wooden carvings. Her hands picked up a small wooden figure, eyes slightly lidded as her eyes raked over the details, a slight parting of her lips as she stared at it longingly in her hands.

“You gon’ buy that, kid?” The shopkeeper asked suddenly and Saram jolted out of her thoughts. Normally, Saram didn't have any interest in buying things so she didn't carry beri. Uta didn't have to ask for money because Shanks or Beckman was always with her, buying her whatever she wanted.

She pursued her lips with a shake of her head, a small smile as she stared down at the figure again before sighing, “Ah, no, just looking.”

As she was about to keep it down, a hand appeared from beside her as someone stood behind her, she stiffened.

“How much?”

Her eyes widened slightly as the merchant wa spoken to by the man behind her, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around the wooden figure.

“2300 beri.” The shopkeeper said and Saram blinked, it was too much. This wasn't worth 2300 beri. She didn't need this. She kept convincing herself in her head as she kept it back down.

“We'll ta—”

“Thank you but we won't be taking it.” She said and kept the figure back down, she didn't need something so expensive. She didn't. Grabbing the hand of the man she started to walk, not once looking back at the wooden figure of the girl and her father: the girl was in frozen motion, smiling and about to run into her father's arms who had his arms wide open for her, bent on one knee.

“Saram, I can buy that for y—”

“It's too expensive.” She says, eyes on the road, hand still on his wrist as she kept walking, she knew he'd go back the moment she let go.

“It's not that expensive, I'm the doctor of the Red Haired Pirates.” He huffed.

“Hongo,” she stopped walking, standing in the middle of the street as she kept looking forward, “I don't need these useless things.”

Hongo stared at the back of her head as they stood still, a sigh leaving him, he could not understand why Saram would not let him buy that thing, she obviously looked happy with it her hands, he saw the smile on her lips as she held it. He also saw the light dim in her eyes when she was about to keep it back down after the shopkeeper asked if she would buy it.

He moved before thinking, hand moving first as he spoke to the man about the price, 2300 beri was too much for a wooden figure but if it meant that he could see her smile like that again, it was nothing. All he knew that he was tired of seeing her eyes lack light and her always hiding away, when did she become so quiet? She used to run and laugh and clingy to him, and now she barely spoke.

Saram knew that gaze on the back of her head, that same gaze that has haunted her for the past four years, that look of pity, the gaze as if she were some kind of puzzle, as if she was some kind of anomaly. She hated it. She hated how they made her feel, feel like she was too much, too little, too far, too close.

“Do you want ice cream?” He asked suddenly, Saram paused, glancing back at him, his blonde hair and those eyes that felt like she were an exotic animal for the view of everyone.

“Sure.” She shrugged.

Ice cream was nice.

Saram walked by Hongo’s side, eyes simply looking around boredly as she kept her hands in the pockets of her pants. Hongo looked down at the young girl, noting how she seemed bored of everything, his fingers twitched, how different she was to Uta, the hair, the eyes, the way they moved, the way they talked, the way they lived.

His eyes traced her as they stood in line for their order. Saram's eyes were dark, a murky color unlike Shanks' carmine eyes, unlike Uta's bright eyes. 

“What flavor do you want, Hongo?” She asked and his thoughts came to a stop.

“Strawberry..” He said, surprised, cringing in his mind about his preference in the ice cream, he didn't like strawberry at all, why did he say it? He saw a pause in her stature before she turned to the cashier and spoke. He would just bear through the horrible flavor of strawberry.

“One lemon sorbet and one chocolate, please, the chocolate in a cup and the lemon one in a cone.” She said, and his eyes widened slightly.

Chocolate?

He wordlessly paid for the treats as he sat down with her at an empty table. 

Saram had paused when he had said strawberry. She blinked before sighing, turning to the cashier, asking for specifics in her order. Hongo didn't like strawberry, his mouth felt bitter if he ate strawberry ice cream and so he avoided that particular flavor, chocolate was always his go to. They sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying their ice cream.

Saram didn't ask him why he said strawberry.

Hongo didn't ask her how she knew he hated strawberry.

Uta was an amazing singer. Even before the Uta-Uta fruit, she always sang beautifully, so soft, so kind, so soul soothing. When the people of Elegia fawned over the young girl's songs, she simply watched with a small smile on her lips, a barely half-eaten cookie in her hand, sitting on the windowsill in the corner of the large ballroom. The crew were scattered around, laughing, drinking, eating, and having fun. Her eyes went in the direction of Shanks, his crimson hair blazing under the lights, his carmine eyes bright with humor as he drank. 

She blinks slowly as Shanks casts a glance at Uta from across the room, a smile on his lips as he watched her. Saram sees the adoration and love in his eyes, the affection and concern, the softness and kindness - all of which were also directed at her once, now all she sees in his eyes when he looks at her is pity and dissatisfaction, the feeling of rotten food and the smell of sour grapes.

And suddenly the cookie in her hand feels bitter.

The cookie is left on the banner and Saram disappeared into the shadowy crowds of the room once again, heart empty and skin crawling. She was roaming the halls, eyes mindlessly looking around as she walked through the empty corridors, Saram wasn't worried that anyone would be looking for, they never did so she walked around without any care.

She found an empty balcony and decided to slip away there, she froze as she found Lime Juice there. He looked up from looking over the railing, eyes recognizing her in the dark, “Oi, Saram, what're you doing alone?”

"Wandering around, the castle's preeeetty big."

Saram leaned against the railing beside Lime Juice, gazing out over the darkened horizon as the night sky stretched endlessly, a canvas of stars twinkling like distant jewels. It felt peaceful here, away from the noise and the prying eyes. She let out a small breath, a fleeting smile playing on her lips as she casually glanced over at Lime Juice.

"You always seem to find the best spots to hide," Lime Juice remarked, chuckling as he adjusted his stance. "You still running from Yasopp's crazy training?"

Saram shrugged lightly, her smile widening, though there was something slightly absent about it. "You know I was never really good at it. He’s got too much energy. I couldn't keep up."

Lime Juice grinned. "That’s an understatement. I remember when you used to follow me around to escape it. You were like a little shadow, always trailing behind."

Saram’s laugh was soft, a tiny, almost nostalgic sound. "I was small enough to slip away unnoticed. Plus, you always seemed to know where the quiet places were."

"Well, someone had to show you the ropes. You looked like you needed someone to keep you from getting into trouble."

Saram tilted her head slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was always a model child."

Lime Juice snorted. "Model child, huh? I seem to remember you sneaking off and pretending to help me with cleaning duties when you were younger. You could never sit still for long."

"That was just a phase," Saram said, her tone light and teasing. "I eventually grew out of it."

Lime Juice raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "I’m not sure anyone could really grow out of that energy. You were always the one who found trouble without even trying."

She chuckled quietly, folding her arms and leaning on the railing. "I guess I did have a knack for it."

They both fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the distant crashing of waves against the shore below. The stars seemed to blink in time with the rhythm of the sea, and Saram let the quiet settle around them.

"Guess you’ve changed, though," Lime Juice said after a while, his tone softer now. "You used to be more lively. I don’t see you running around anymore, always hiding in the shadows."

Saram's eyes flicked to him briefly, a flash of something unreadable passing before she turned her gaze back to the horizon. "I’m not a kid anymore," she replied simply, her voice steady but distant.

Lime Juice studied her briefly, his face softening slightly, "Yeah, I guess none of us really are."

A comfortable spanned between them as they peered over the railing at lights and the bustling city of Elegia's kingdom, Saram glanced up at Lime Juice and for a moment was back to when she was younger, louder, clinging to him as Yasopp yelled in exasperation, the laughter of the crew and mirth in Shanks' eyes - the next moment she was back to her present, in the dim lighted balcony beside Lime.

Their time was cut short as Lucky's voice called for Lime and the man sported a grin as he gave her hair a playful ruffle before turning to leave, his footsteps fading as he disappeared back into the maze of the castle. Saram’s smile lingered for a moment longer, soft and fleeting before she leaned her chin against the cool metal of the railing. The night stretched before her, a beautiful contrast of vibrant lights and deep shadows.

“It’s pretty.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, almost lost in the sound of distant laughter and music from the celebrations below. The colors from the ballroom flickered like fireflies in the air, a warm glow against the cool night. She could hear the faint melody of the musicians drifting up, still singing their hearts out, though Saram didn’t need to look to know that.

The sea-land breeze tugged at her hair gently, the salty scent of the ocean mixing with the faint sweetness from the bakery below. It was a peaceful night, but the warmth of the scene didn’t quite reach her heart. Saram tilted her head slightly, eyes scanning the distant horizon as she let the sounds of the party fade into the background. In this moment, everything felt so far away, yet so close, like she was both part of it and completely separate from it.

Her smile slowly faded as she let out a soft sigh, eyes still tracing the light below, her thoughts drifting like the stars above.

Despite the beauty around her, it was still cold.

The sound of footsteps caught her attention, coming towards her, she looked around before slipping behind a rather large pillar, hiding there as she tried to make herself invisible from the eyes. Saram stiffened as she heard two familiar voices.

"You seemed to really enjoy singing back there." Shanks' voice was warm and kind, like the summer sun on the skin, like the tune of waves playing.

"Hm? I guess..."

Saram finally realized who were there, Shanks and Uta, she quietly stood there, like always, listening to them talk.

"You sure you wouldn't rather sing for a big crowd instead of for us?"

"It's not like that." Uta said, her voice cheery and confident, Saram stared at the ground, leaning against the pillar as they spoke.

"Y'know, Uta..." Shanks began, "Things like peace and equality don't really exist in the world."

Saram's heart stammered, for a moment it felt like he said those things to her, for a moment it felt like Shanks was laying the truth of Saram's life in front of her, she swallowed as Shanks continued speaking, "But your voice..."

"Its the one thing that can bring happiness to everyone in the world."

"What are you talking about?" Young Uta's confused voice rang through the balcony, confused, unable to decipher what Shanks was saying.

But Saram knew.

"You can stay if you want."

Shanks was worried if the life of a pirate was something Uta would want, the seas, the risks: Shanks did not want Uta to go through those things.

"I'll come pick you up once you're the greatest singer in the world."

But Shanks would never leave behind Uta, everyone knew that, Shanks knew that, the crew knew that, Saram knew that. She peeked from behind the shadows of the pillar, Shanks crouched to one knee in front of the little girl.

"Stupid! I'm the Red Haired Pirates' musician!" Uta yelled out and Saram's lip parted slightly: could she ever fight for her place like that? Could she ever claim her place as his daughter?

"If you're asking me to choose between music and leaving.... leaving you guys..." Uta teared up, her small frame shaking, immediately Shanks hugged her, Saram's chest clenched.

"Okay, I get it!"

Saram turned back around and stared down at her feet, the voice of Shanks echoing, "You've got a point. We can ship out tomorrow."

And Saram wondered, what it was like, to be wanted? To be looked at as someone worth seeing? Someone who was worth something.

Shanks looked up as he heard a sound, a cat walked out from behind the pillars and he shrugged it off, his Observational Haki revealing no one in the balcony.

Saram was running.

She didn't care where she was going, she just needed to get away. Away from Shanks. Away from Uta. Away from her unspoken feelings. Away from her feelings,

Her breath came in short, uneven gasps as she ran through the dark hallways, her footsteps muffled against the marble floors of the castle. Her shoes echoed through the halls as she ran, she was on pure adrenaline, her heart ringing in her ears. She didn't know where she was going—only that she needed to go, needed to get away before the ache in her chest swallowed her whole.

Then, in her blind escape, she collided hard into something solid. No—someone. A sharp inhale, the scent of alcohol, gunpowder, and the faintest trace of salt filled her senses as she stumbled back.

"Whoa there—" The familiar, slurred voice barely had time to register before her shoulder crashed into his torso. Strong hands caught her by instinct before she could fall, steadying her, steadying her body - her heart stammering.

Yasopp.

His grin, usually easy and carefree, faltered as he looked down at her, blinking away his drunken haze. The bottle in his grip tilted slightly, forgotten, as his eyes sharpened ever so slightly in concern.

"Saram?" His voice lost its lazy humor.

She stiffened in his hold, her breath catching in her throat. The weight of her emotions, the stifling tightness in her chest, all of it clashed violently against the unexpected warmth of his presence. Why? Why was Yasopp here? Why was he here? Why could no one allow her to even break in peace? What was the meaning of this awful game of fate against her?

His brows furrowed slightly. "Hey... you okay?"

Okay? Was she okay? A question that she despised. If someone needs to ask if the other person is okay, then perhaps that person is not okay.

She shook her head instinctively, stepping back, trying to pull away, but his grip remained firm—not trapping, not forcing, just there. Steady. Present. For a moment, she thought about pushing past him, continuing her run, disappearing into the depths of the castle of Elegia where no one could find her. But Yasopp was watching her too closely now, his usual nonchalance replaced by something more serious.

Something like understanding.

How funny.

How could Yasopp ever perceive to understand her? Understand her when her own father could not?

He looked down at her, eyes scanning her face, searching, as if trying to put together a puzzle he hadn’t realized was broken.

She swallowed, lowering her gaze, his eyes felt like daggers, bitter and rotten, the taste of rotten fruit, the taste of bitter coffee grounds.

"Did something happen?"

Saram clenched her fists at her sides. She wanted to say no. She wanted to shake her head and walk away, but her silence stretched between them, thick and telling.

And Yasopp’s expression darkened just slightly.

Yasopp’s grip loosened just enough for Saram to step back, but his eyes never left her. His usual carefree air was gone, replaced by something unreadable. Something tense.

Saram didn’t want this. She didn’t want him looking at her like that, like she was fragile. Like she was something broken.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.

Yasopp scoffed, taking a swig from his bottle before shaking his head. “Yeah, sure. Because people who are ‘fine’ run through the halls like the damn castle’s on fire.”

Saram clenched her fists. “I said I’m fine, Yasopp. Just let me go.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his messy blond hair. "Dammit, Saram, can you stop pretending for one second? You're always so damn quiet, so damn—" He stopped, clicking his tongue in frustration. "You think no one notices how you shrink into yourself? How you barely talk anymore?"

Saram’s heart pounded against her ribs. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t stand here and have this conversation—not with him, not with anyone. Not now. Not when she was seconds away from crashing out, from spilling her secrets, her feelings, her heart out. "It doesn't matter," she muttered, turning to walk away.

But Yasopp stepped in front of her. "Like hell it doesn’t!" His voice was sharper now, laced with something he barely ever showed—anger. "You keep acting like you're invisible, like you don’t—like you shouldn’t be here. And I’m sick of it!"

Sick of it?

He was sick of it?

Sick of what? Constantly, having to act as if she doesn't notice that he prefers to train Uta over her? Having to act as if he isn't crueler during training on her than Uta? Having to act as if he actually sees her anymore?

Something in her just broke, his words registering deep into her brain.

Saram’s head snapped up. "Then don’t bother with me!" Her voice cracked as the words left her mouth before she could stop them. "You and everyone else—just stop pretending to care! It’s easier that way, isn’t it?"

Saram knew she should stop. She should just keep quiet. This was wrong. He didn't deserve to listen to her rants.

Yasopp flinched, his grip tightening on the bottle before he set it down with more force than necessary. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Stop talking, please. Don't say anything more to him. He won't understand. None of them will. The small voice in her head begged, crumbled - but it was too late, the dams had been cracked.

"You all act like I’m not here!" she yelled, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "You act like I’m not his daughter! You treat me like I’m some inconvenience, like I'm just—"

Yasopp’s expression twisted, something bitter flashing across his face. "You think we don’t care?!" he shot back. "You think Shanks doesn’t—" He cut himself off, biting his tongue.

But it was too late.

Saram took a step back, the weight in her chest growing heavier, the feeling of bitterness grew. "...Doesn’t what?"

Yasopp cursed under his breath, turning his head away.

"Say it." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was sharp. Unyielding. Pleading.

Yasopp let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head before finally meeting her eyes. "You wanna know the truth, Saram?" His voice was rough, like something he had been holding in for too long. "You were never supposed to exist."

Saram's breath hitched. The world tilted under her feet.

Yasopp kept going, his voice bitter, raw. "You think Shanks ever wanted a kid? You think he planned for you? You think he wanted to be a father at 18? No, Saram. You were a mistake—one the crew had to clean up!"

The words hit like a blade straight to her chest.

Mistake.

The walls felt too close, the air too thin, something in her twisting and pulling. Saram didn’t run.

She couldn’t.

Her legs refused to move, locking her in place as Yasopp’s words echoed in her mind, over and over, sinking deep into the spaces she had long tried to ignore.

You were never supposed to exist.

You were a mistake—one the crew had to clean up.

The words were acid, burning through her chest, leaving her raw and exposed. But Yasopp wasn’t done. He was still caught in the momentum of his anger, his frustration boiling over into something cruel and unfiltered.

"You wanna know why things are the way they are?" Yasopp laughed, but there was no humor in it—only something bitter, something heavy. "Why Shanks never says much about your mother? Why no one talks about it?" He met her gaze, his own eyes darker than she had ever seen. "Because he didn’t even know you existed until she was already dead."

Saram’s breath hitched, her ears ringing, her fingers trembling. The castle felt cold, the hallways dark and eerie.

"He didn’t know, Saram! He never even knew she was pregnant!" Yasopp took a sharp breath, running a hand down his face before glaring at her again. "And by the time he found out? By the time we found out? She was gone, and there you were—a crying, helpless kid with nothing but her name left behind!"

Silence filled the hallway, thick and suffocating.

Saram’s fingers trembled at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

She had never asked about her mother. Not really. She did once, when she was five, sitting with Beckman on deck as the crew partied on the beach, he had been with her, a soft look in his eyes as she sat curled into his side. He had told her: about her young and naive mother, about her reckless and adventurous.

Shanks never talked about her, and the crew never said anything either. A part of her had always assumed—no, hoped—that maybe it was just too painful for Shanks to speak about. That maybe, in his own way, he was protecting her from something.

Back then she believed Beckman's words that her birth was something beautiful, despite a surprise, it was a gift of life, something that was nothing short of a blessing. She was told that Shanks felt guilt for not reaching her before. That he never spoke of her mother because he felt guilt for leaving her mother alone.

Now she knew.

Shanks hadn’t been silent out of grief.

He had been silent because there was nothing to say.

She was never meant to be here. Never planned. Never wanted.

Just a mistake.

She swallowed hard, her throat closing up. "So that’s why…" Her voice was eerily quiet. "That’s why he doesn’t look at me like he does Uta."

Yasopp’s face twisted, but he didn’t say anything.

"That’s why he never—" She stopped, her breath shuddering as she looked past Yasopp, her mind racing back to every moment she had ever questioned her place.

The distance. The way Shanks would smile but never quite reach for her like he did Uta. The way the crew would joke and laugh, but always hold something back, something unsaid.

It made sense now.

It all made sense.

She was never part of their story.

Just an accident they had to carry.

A mistake.

Her hands clenched tighter, her nails biting into her skin as she forced herself to breathe past the crushing weight in her chest. There had to be something she could hold onto. Something that was proof that she was Shanks'. Her lungs were empty. Nothing. She had nothing of Shanks. Not his hair, not his eyes, not his skills; she was an empty slate.

Yasopp ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as if he was only now realizing what he had done. His anger had burned out, but the damage had already been done, the words already spoken, the venom already poisoning her veins; so that's why everyone was pushing her so much.

They wanted to erase anything of Saram that spoke of her mother, of Shanks' mistake, of the burden of having to take care of a child, of having to take care of her.

A mistake.

A burden.

It wasn't indifference in Shanks' eyes she used to see, it was anger, she was a reminder of the burden, of the responsibility forced upon him.

Saram’s eyes were glossy.

Not a single tear fell, but they shimmered under the dim hallway lights, threatening to spill, betraying the weight of everything that had just shattered inside her. She hadn't allowed herself to cry since she was six, hadn't allowed for her feelings to show, she diluted herself until she was barely there.

Yasopp’s breath caught in his throat.

Her expression wasn’t one of anger. It wasn’t even of sadness. It was worse.

It was empty.

The realization crashed into him like a tidal wave, drowning out the last remnants of his fury. The words he had flung so carelessly, the truth he had bared in the heat of the moment—he had assumed she knew.

But she hadn’t.

She hadn’t known.

His stomach twisted violently as the horror of it settled deep in his bones.

Saram never knew.

"You didn’t know…?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Saram took a step back, her small hands trembling, her lips quivering. Something bitter in her eyes, something shattered in her gaze as he stared into her eyes, eyes that had once looked at him as if he were a hero. Yasopp instinctively moved toward her, reaching out, but she recoiled before he could get close, her body tensing as if his presence itself burned.

That hurt more than he expected.

"Saram—"

She shook her head. Once. Twice. Her breaths were uneven, shallow, like she was trying to steady herself but failing miserably.

A mistake.

She had been a mistake all along.

Her mother had died before Shanks even knew she existed. He had never expected her, never waited for her, never longed for her. He hadn't even wanted her. Everything—the way he hesitated, the way he looked at Uta, the way the crew seemed tired of her—everything made sense now.

She was too much.

Too much to deal with. Too much to keep. Too much of something no one had ever wanted.

Saram took another step back.

Her head felt light, like the world was swaying beneath her feet, and she needed to get away. Away from Yasopp. Away from his words. Away from everything she had never known but had always felt.

Yasopp took another step forward, panic creeping into his chest, "Saram."

"If I was Uta...."

Saram’s voice was quiet. Too quiet.

"If I was more like Uta....would you guys have been able to love me more?" She whispered as she looked up at Yasopp's eyes, her throat tight, feeling like she was swallowing glass.

Yasopp’s heart stammered. His breath hitched at the sound of it—so soft, so fragile, as if she wasn’t even sure she existed in this moment.

She stood there, her glossy eyes unfocused, her fingers trembling at her sides. She looked so small, even though she wasn’t a child anymore. She looked like something that had been hollowed out, something that had been left in the cold too long.

Something that had just broken.

Yasopp swallowed, his pulse pounding against his skull as a memory surfaced.

“No one tells her.”

Shanks' voice had been unwavering, absolute.

It was one of the only times the crew had seen him so firm, so unyielding. He had stood before them all, his usual easygoing air absent, replaced by something much heavier.

“She doesn’t need to know. Not now, not ever.”

The crew had been silent. No one had questioned it. Not Benn, not Lucky Roux, not Yasopp himself.

Because they had understood.

Because Shanks, despite everything, had wanted her. He had chosen to take her in. He had wanted to spare her from this pain, from the knowledge that she had never been meant to be here.

They had all promised. And Yasopp had just shattered it all. His throat tightened. "Saram, listen—"

But she took a step back. He watched as her breathing grew shallower, like the weight of it all was closing in around her.

And then — came the shouting.

Yasopp barely had time to react as he grabbed Saram's wrist and pulled her away from the castle windows as they exploded, using his body as a shield. Screams echoed as a swirl of murky red and black flowed out of the top floor where everyone was, where the crew and Uta were. Saram shouted in surprise and fear as fire rained down on the nation of Elegia, Yasopp cursed under his breathe; conflicted between going to help the crew and staying with Saram.

How could he leave when her small hands were clinging to his shirt so tightly?

But he had to, his duty, he needed to-

"Go."

She moved away from him, her voice low and quiet, eyes downcast, "Go help dad and the others, Yasopp."

"Saram-"

Another explosion.

Footsteps running into the hallway they were in. Hongo and Gab appear frantic, calling for him.

"Yasopp, lets go! Saram run to the ship!"

They ran towards the source of the explosions while Saram stared at their drifting backs, Hongo looked back at her and something in his bones crawled as if this was the last time he would see her.

"Snap out of it, Uta! Don't let him take you!" The king yelled, blood dripping down his head as the Red Haired Pirates ran through the burning forest.

Saram coughed as she ran through the fire, dodging the flames, heart stammering in her chest, soot covered her as her feet stamped against the ground. She could hear the king yelling, the crew fighting, the sound of her father-

Saram turned around and faltered, her feet stopping as her eyes widened. The monster screaming before dissolving - Uta. This was done by Uta? Uta's power.... did this? Shanks caught Uta in his hands as she fell, her unconscious body limp in his hold. She felt something her chest tighten as she watched, the flames burning everything around her.

The warmth of Shanks' gaze, the way the crew stood around them, the way he held Uta - Saram watched it all, she was about to run towards them when her mind echoed.

"You wanna know the truth, Saram?"

Her feet slowed down as she watched.

"You were never supposed to exist. You were a mistake—one the crew had to clean up!"

Shanks indifference, Beckman's lingering gaze that never saw her.

"Because he didn’t even know you existed until she was already dead."

The crew's favoritism towards Uta, the way they were always seeing something of more value in Uta.

"She was gone, and there you were—a crying, helpless kid with nothing but her name left behind!"

The bitter taste of coffee, the rotten taste in her mouth.

“If only, you were easier, Saram.”

The tired words of Shanks as she stared at him heartbroken, chest feeling like it was caving.

Saram took one foot back and gasped as she turned away, turned around, frozen in place as the burning debris cracked and fell towards her, she held her arms in front of her face as the world turned dark around her, the last memory seared into her eyes was the sight of Shanks walking away with Uta in his arms.

After laying Uta in a secured bed in the castle room, Shanks walked and left Uta behind. He walked towards Gordon who was getting his wound wrapped by Hongo on the ground.

"Would you mind keeping this a secret from Uta? It'd be cruel to tell her the truth."

"Right. I'll tell the Navy I was responsible." Gordon solemnly replied as he pushed to his feet while Hongo grabbed the kit and packed up, walking away.

"Nah. It should be us."

Gordon, confused, turned sharply towards Shanks as he kept speaking, "Red-Haired Shanks and his crew, the Red Haired Pirates, did this."

"Tell that to Uta." Shanks finished with a slight glint in his eyes, Gordon felt a chill in his bones at the dim gaze in his eyes.

Hongo, turned away and left, realizing the conversation. Gordon, frowned, "You'll leave her....?"

"That girl's got a hell of a voice. We can't keep her cooped up on a ship while we're on the run from the Navy." Shanks kept speaking as he walked pass Gordon, towards his crew, "Please. Make her into the greatest singer in the world."

Gordon watched as the crew walked away, Shanks looked over his shoulder with a smile, "Her singing isn't a crime."

"Shanks...." Gordon dropped to his knees in understanding and realization, "I understand! As the king of Elegia, I, Gordon, swear upon the love my subjects felt for music! I will turn Uta into a sublime singer, who will bring joy to the entire world!" Gordon swore as Shanks and the crew walked away, leaving behind the burning embers of Elegia, as their ship sailed away.

Since that day, the Red Haired Pirates never looked at the Kingdom of Elegia, didn't look back when Uta screamed for them, didn't look back even as they were branded the murderers of the Kingdom of Elegia.

Not until the next dawn when Hongo was bandaging and dressing the wounds of the crew, he stilled, eyes looking around the ship, frowning, Beckman, noticing his sudden alerted gaze, spoke, "Is something wr-"

"Where's Saram?"

A moment of pause as everyone went still, their muscles freezing.

"What do you mean, where's Saram? She is on board....." Gab's voice trailed off as he looked around the ship, the crew, his heart stammering.

Shanks' grip on the bottle loosened as he let it fall to the ground and stood up, eyes shadowed by his hat, his Observation Haki fully unleashed and searching the ship.

"Hongo, did she ever make it to the ship....?" Lime Juice said quietly as he looked at the doctor and then Beckman.

"We saw her board the ship... did we...?" Rockstar murmured.

"She's not here, the ship, she's not on the ship." Yasopp said before Shanks spoke, his jaw tight, "I just came back from knocking on her room, she's not there or anywhere."

"If Saram's not on the ship, then-"

A chill spread through the ship, Shanks' Conqueror's Haki unleased fully, suffocating and dark, heads whipped towards the direction they had left, the direction of destruction, the direction of the destroyed and burning Elegia.

They left her.

They left Saram behind.

They didn't even check whether she was on board or not, whether she was even-

"Was she with anyone?"

"Shanks-"

"Was she with anyone?"

"Calm dow-"

"No one knows. No one saw her. No one was with her!" Shanks yelled, his haki flaring, carmine eyes blazing red as he glared at the crew, "No one!"

"Shanks-" Beckman tried to calm him down.

"Not a single person knows. Not even you! "

His haki exploded as everyone was forced to their knees, "WHERE IS SHE?!"

The newspapers said that only two people survived the destruction of Elegia. Not another person was found alive. No one else was found.

At least that is how the story was spun by King Gordon, Uta and Saram.

In a chamber of the castle, Uta walked in with a tray of food and water, she smiled softly as she entered, "Saram, you feeling better?"

The bandaged girl on bed, sitting up and staring out the window, shifted a second late at the sound of Uta's voice, eyes trailing over her small self, she gave a small smile and nod, "It's a bit sore than before but better."

"You sure?" Uta asked again, frowning, her purple eyes swimming with concern, "Gordon said that the skin was burned off pretty badly, I was scared."

"Yeah, I am sure." Saram smiled and ruffled Uta's hair, "Go and do your lessons with Gordon, I'll be fine."

"Okay...." Uta said quietly, her small figure keeping the tray on the bedside table. Saram turned to look back outside the window, at the door Uta stopped and stared at Saram, her older sister, the one who always stood back, the one who used to stay with her during pirate clashes, the one who secretly unbeknownst to the crew snuck her midnight treats.

Her sister who now stared out the window quietly, bandages peeking out from under her clothes, Uta would never forgive the Red Haired Pirates, she would never forgive them for the destruction of Elegia and the pain they caused Saram. The betrayal, the pain, the suffering, the nightmare - she would never forgive Shanks for what he had done to them.

"Uta."

"Yeah?"

"Don't let hate consume you."

"But-" She paused in her angry rant as Saram glanced back at her over shoulder, the look in Saram's eyes froze her, the same look she would give Uta when she was doing something that was wrong. But she couldn't understand, why was Saram taking their side? Why wasn't she angry!?

"Why are you okay with what Shanks did!? Why!? He left us, abandone-"

"We are pirates, Uta. You, are a pirate. Don't cling to affection or promises of loyalty by anyone, not even dad. Don't drown in the hatred, you will be destroyed."

"I.... hate him, Saram, he... he has to pay...."

"Then become strong."

"Huh?"

"Become so strong that no one can ever hurt you again. I will be here by your side, so flourish Uta. Grow to be the best singer and help those who suffer."

Uta stared at Saram for a moment as she nodded and ran off. Saram turned back to staring outside the window, eyes half-lidded and tired but no sign of sleep in them. She didn't acknowledge the door opening and heavy footsteps entering.

"Uta-"

"If Uta is not given an alternative goal to run towards, she will destroy herself Gordon. If her hatred towards injustice, towards the world, towards dad lets her live, lets her survive, then," Saram paused, Gordon staring at her, "Then, it is fair."

"You're a kind child, Saram."

"I simply want her to survive. Because I know," Her fists clenched as she turned towards Gordon, eyes wilted and dim, festering with weariness, "They will come back for her."

"And you?"

A moment passed. The implication of the question was clear: What about you? Won't they come for you too?

She chuckled, empty and hollow, an empty sound that echoed the bleary room, "Oh Gordon, I am dead, remember?"

Gordon felt his heart ache.

"The world mourn for the dead, they don't come searching for them."

Twelve years passed in quiet isolation. Time moved forward, yet within the walls of Elegia, it felt as though it had frozen, trapping its last three inhabitants in a world untouched by the outside. The kingdom never recovered, its ruins swallowed by nature, its music lost to the wind. Uta grew, her voice carrying across the empty halls, filling the silence left behind. Gordon tended to the kingdom’s remnants, teaching, guiding, ensuring Uta’s talents flourished. And Saram—Saram wandered.

Through the quiet corridors, the abandoned archives, the empty shores where the waves met the land. She trained alone, walked alone, lived in the space between existence and disappearance. The world had forgotten her, and she let it.

The waves crash against the beaches of Elegia as seagulls fly over the island. A lone figure stands by the beach, melodies leaving her as she sings, red and white hair tied up into intricate knots, a pair of shorts and top covering her as she sang. She didn't hear the quiet footsteps walking towards her, realizing only after they sit beside her on the fallen tree trunk, the hot sun warming their skin.

"Gordon was looking for you, Uta."

"Geez, that old man has amazing timing." Uta chuckled as she turned to glance at the older girl by her side, her hair flaying in the wind, "And you always know where to find me, don't you, Saram?"

The older girl ruffled Uta's hair, messing it up, "Lets go back to the castle, we will record your new song after your study lessons with Gordon."

"Huuuuhhh, why do I always have to study?" Uta pouted, grumbling as she walked after Saram, grumbles leaving her, "Geez, I am not a kid anymore."

"You still brashly use the wakewake mushrooms, I ought to ground you." Saram scolds as she plucks away the mushroom hidden in Uta's jacket.

"That's mi-" Uta rubbed her nape at the stern look in Saram's eyes, "Fine, fine! So bossy."

Saram slowed her steps as Uta used her devil fruit powers to go back to the castle, Uta had asked her numerous times to let her use her powers for Saram as well but the latter always refused, wtih Uta gone back to the castle, she turned to look at the seas with a distant look.

"It's in a month, huh?" She murmurs to herself, remembering the concert Uta was going to hold.

Years had passed since that fateful night: days turning to weeks, weeks turning to months and eventually years. It had been so long since Saram had sailed the seas, since she had felt the feeling of sailing, of sailing under a bright sky. She wondered, if the seas had changed since then?

"I wonder....." She hummed to herself and walked back to the castle.

"I cry all the time lately."

"Everyone agrees: the Navy is bad but what's worse is....."

"I'm hungry!"

"What do you expect? The pirates took everything!"

"That's right! It's the pirates' fault! Because of them being so greedy... No one gets to have fun anymore!"

"Do you understand what we're going through?"

"Please. We are suffering."

"You're the only one. The only one who can help...!"

"Watching the videos again?" Saram leans against the door of Uta's room, arms crossed as she watches the girl.

"Yeah, I have been thinking of these." Uta smiled at her, putting away the transponder snail, fingers dipping towards the basket, only to have it flicked away by Saram's hand, causing the younger girl to whine.

"That hurt!"

"No wakewake mushroom." Saram scolded and took the mushroom from her hands, "Let me see you." She said and held Uta's face in her hands, inspecting her.

"Geez, you're like a mom." Uta grumbled with a smile.

"A troublesome child you are, Uta." Saram sighs as she rubs her thumb over the dark circles under Uta's eyes, "Come on, to sleep you go."

"I am 21!" Uta grumbled but listening as Saram makes her go to bed, lying down on her bed as the latter takes off her headset and hair out of its intricate knots.

"Still my younger sibling." Saram shakes her head, amused. Grabbing the lavender oil on the dresser she slightly applies it to Uta, the younger watching her attentively with a smile; Saram had always been meticulous in her care for Uta, it came in subtle waves, in subtle ways, in subtle actions such as these.

"Thanks."

Saram didn't answer as Uta smiled at her, the older girl's back to her as she put away the things on Uta's dresser, the dual haired girl's purple eyes watching her. Uta sometimes wondered why Saram did all the things for her without asking anything in return, why Saram supported her but also gave her the freedom of decision of her life, why Saram never complained and simply loved her.

"Don't thank me."

"Sar-"

"Sleep well, Uta. Your big day is two days away." Saram kissed her forehead with affection and turned to walk towards the door, Uta could already feel the waves of sleep and scent dragging her away. Her eyes dropped and she fell asleep, Saram stood by the doorway for a moment before leaving.

The door clicked shut with a quiet finality, the echo fading into the stillness of the castle corridors. Saram stood there for a moment, her fingers lingering on the brass handle before she exhaled softly, the air was cool against her skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Uta’s room. The scent of lavender still clung to her fingertips, but it did nothing to soothe the heaviness settling in her chest.

Elegia castle was silent at this hour, save for the distant murmuring of waves outside. The worn out and ragged tapestries on the stone walls barely swayed, unmoved by the sea breeze slipping through the arched windows and cracks.

Her feet carried her forward, slow and measured; these pathways were familiar to her, she had dwelt amongst them for years. Her feet pulled her through the hallways, past the grand doors of the archives, past the chambers where the echoes of a lost kingdom still lingered.

She stepped out onto the rooftop.

The wind was stronger here, threading through her hair, tugging at the loose strands like a whisper of something she refused to name. The stars stretched endlessly above her, their light cold and distant, and below, the sea shimmered—a great expanse of ink and silver, shifting under the moon’s quiet gaze.

The same sea that had carried them away. The same sea that had taken everything.

Her fingers curled against the stone railing, the railing had crumbled in places since that night, yet it was still terrifyingly beautiful, a cacophony of art that existed and persisted its creators. Uta would be asleep by now. Gordon, too.

Yet, sleep never came easily for her.

It hadn’t in years.

Saram tipped her head back, letting the wind bite into her skin, tracing over the scars hidden beneath fabric and bandages. The left side of her body still ached, though it had long since healed, it always did when she stood beneath the open sky like this, as if her body still remembered that night.

As if it refused to forget.

She closed her eyes.

The fire. The smoke. The voices that had once meant everything to her. The weight of Shanks’ gaze that never fell on her as he walked away with Uta in his arms, the lack of care in him to even wonder whether she was with them before he left. Before they left.

She hadn’t screamed for them.

She hadn’t begged.

She couldn't, all she had felt was heat, weight and the smell of sulfur, of her lungs caving in, of her eyes' darkness and the sound of cannons in the distance.

And yet, some small, fractured part of her had waited—hoped—that someone would come back. That someone would realize.

But no one had.

A quiet breath slipped from her lips, and her eyes reopened, staring at the endless black sea.

The world thought she was dead.

The Red Hair Pirates thought she was dead.

And perhaps, in a way, that was true.

She had died that night.

The child who had once stood on the deck of that ship, who had laughed at the crew’s teasing, who had reached for a father who had never reached back—she had burned with Elegia. All that remained was this: a ghost of someone who no longer belonged anywhere, a girl with scars marring her skin, standing at the edge of a world she no longer sought to be part of. She no longer could be a part of.

A dull ache twisted in her chest, but she ignored it.

Instead, she let her thoughts drift to Uta.

Uta, whose anger burned brighter than any fire. Uta, whose pain had rooted itself deep, feeding into a hatred that would one day consume her if left unchecked.

"If Uta is not given an alternative goal to run towards, she will destroy herself, Gordon."

Saram had given her a path—a goal. If she could not take the bitterness from her, she would give her something to reach for instead because otherwise Saram feared that she would not be able to save Uta if time came.

But the concert was close now.

Saram had seen the look in Uta’s eyes, had heard the weight in her voice when she spoke of changing the world and she knew.

She knew Uta’s fire was rising.

Saram sighed, rubbing her temple as she leaned against the stone railing of the castle’s highest tower. The night air was cool, a contrast to the memories that still smoldered in the back of her mind.

She had spent years keeping Uta safe, guiding her, making sure she had a reason to keep moving forward. But she wasn’t blind. She could see the fire in Uta’s eyes, the way it grew hotter with each passing day, fueled by grief, by anger, by a dream that teetered dangerously between hope and destruction.

Uta wanted to change the world. Saram only feared what it would cost her. Her gaze drifted to the sea, endless and dark beneath the moonlight.

She had once dreamed of setting sail again - of feeling the wind at her back, of standing at the helm of a ship with nothing but open waters ahead. But that dream had died with the Elegia of the past.

The wind howled against the stone, and Saram turned away from the sea, her gaze falling to the quiet streets of Elegia below. The kingdom that had once been filled with music, now a hushed echo of what it had been.

A month from now, Uta’s voice would fill the world again.

Saram only wondered—

Would the world listen?

Would it understand?

"Well, what does it matter?" She hummed with a fleeting smiled, leaning more over and watching the waves, "The world is just a stage for my dear Uta to shine after all, who cares if they don't want to listen? They have no choice but to listen."

"Nervous?" Saram teased, fixing Uta's hair as they stand backstage, she could hear the crowd bustling, the expectant people who came all over the world for Uta.

"A little. But I am not afraid, plus, you're here after all, hehe." Uta grinned and Saram shook her head, smiling.

"Uta." Saram one last time as Uta was going on stage, the younger girl turned back towards her with a look of confusion, "Hm?"

"I love you."

"I know, sis."

Saram leaned against the wall as she watched Uta go on stage, the lights coming on and immediately, everyone falling under her spell, she knew it wouldn't affect her because Saram had tricks of her own.

"We can choose the way of our future..."

The lights came on as cheers erupted around the stage, Saram walked around, the earpiece in her ear connected to Uta, "Cue the water droplets." She spoke into the device as Uta sang and followed the directions as extra help, they both knew this, they had practiced this routine for days after all.

"I know that we can create a new world!"

Saram chuckled to herself as she saw Uta throw the jacket up in the air, "Show off."

The song continued as she kept listening, eyes looking proud and a soft smile on her lips, she cued the band to go on stage, "Uta, teleport the band." She spoke into the device, "In 3, 2... go."

Saram checked the transponder snail lines again to ensure they were working properly, the music was being live telecasted throughout the world. She went back to watching them and suddenly, she saw someone in the air sling-shotting themself and stilled, cringing, "Shit, no way."

"Uta! You're Uta, aren't you?!"

"Eh?" Uta was confused.

"It's me, remember?!"

"Me?"

Saram blinked in surprise, "That kid, no way-"

"Wait... Luffy?!"

"Luffy!?"

Both the women yelled out in surprise, Saram cleared her throat immediately as she watched them, while Luffy and Uta interact, "Wait, if the kid's here then..."

She ran to the cameras and looked around the stage, "Great, pirates." She sighed seeing the various pirates and especially the Yonko crew, "Uta, I'm leaving this to your hands." She said into the device and even though Uta didn't reply she knew that she heard her.

She started to leave backstage when a certain sentence stopped her, her body freezing.

"Cause she's Shanks' daughter!"

Shanks' daughter.

She clenched her jaw, of course, Luffy would say that. Her chest tightened as she kept hearing the conversations, forcing her feet to move.

"So 'Red-Haired' Shanks of the Four Emperors has a daughter?"

"If that's true, that'd make you his biggest weakness.... Red Haired's baby girl!"

They kept talking and at some point began fighting, Saram watched through the projection as she sat on a stone staircase with an unamused look, "Uta."

The younger immediately focused on the voice in her ear, registering the tone of annoyance in her older sister's voice, knowing that it was time to get serious, "Cease this foolishness, the audience is getting scared."

And Uta knew better than to not listen to her older sister.

"Okay! That's enough!"

While Uta was diffusing the situation, Saram went back to the castle, immediately seeing Gordon, he stood at the top of the staircase as they look at each other, Saram gave a fleeting smile "Hey, old man. My bandages are loose, mind helping?"

They sat on the staircase, the first aid kit beside Gordon on the floor, her eyes on the holograph projection watching the concert and chaos. Gordon paused for a second as he applied the cream on her burn marks and waited for it dry a bit, his eyes went to Saram's face, noting the deep, sunken dark circles, the dimness of her eyes.

"This plan... are you sure of it, Saram?" He asked, wrapping the bandages.

"I am just letting the kid have fun, Gordon. I know its wrong but at least this way, when she ends up in danger, I can save her, I can have access to her."

"Uta, she's a good child, if only-"

"We can't judge how a person grows up to cope with the losses of a childhood, Gordon. Besides, Uta knows why I don't stop her, she'll be safe." She looked Gordon directly in the eyes, "I won't let anything happen to her, you know that."

"That's why I am more worried, Saram." Gordon puts a hand on her head, "You put more value on that child's life than yourself."

"Don't worry, old man. There aren't any people besides you and Uta to mourn me." She smiles and fixes her clothes, standing up, and looking down at his sitting form. Gordon watched her slowly descend down the stairs and towards the large doors, he sighed tiredly as she was gone.

Gordon sat there for a long moment, his hands resting on his knees, staring at the space where Saram had just stood. The first-aid kit remained open beside him, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air, mixing with the stale dust that clung to the castle’s abandoned halls. He sighed, running a hand down his weary face, feeling the weight of years pressing against his bones, it had a long twelve years.

The holographic projection flickered beside him, something Saram had innovated and set up with the help of Uta as she knew that Gordon would not go to the concert stadium and remain in the castle, distorted images of Uta’s radiant figure flashing against the walls, her voice ringing out like a siren’s call. The world was watching her, listening to her, placing their dreams into her outstretched hands.

But beyond the music, beyond the dazzling performance, Gordon could see it—the darkness swimming beneath Uta’s fervent gaze, the cracks hidden beneath her bright smile. And Saram saw it too.

Saram always saw too much.

Gordon remained seated on the staircase, the forgotten first-aid kit at his side, his hands pressed together as if in silent prayer. But he had long since stopped praying. There were no gods who listened, no saints who answered. There was only time, slow and merciless, peeling away at what little remained.

His eyes drifted to the door she had walked through, a bitter taste settling on his tongue. The faintest scent of something sour clung to the air—like rotting flowers, like forgotten offerings left to decay. It was the same feeling he had when he saw her scars, the remnants of Elegia’s destruction carved into her skin like an artist’s cruel signature. No matter how many times he dressed her wounds, no matter how much care he put into wrapping the bandages, the burns would never fully heal. Some things never did.

Gordon would never admit it, nor would Uta or even Saram, but the three knew: Saram was a kaleidoscope of rotten fruit and bitter coffee, the scent of earth after rain, and the smell of sulfur. It clung to her like a ghost, and somewhere along twelve years, Gordon and Uta had come to love this mixture of morbid beauty, love the version of Saram that only they knew and saw.

She spoke so easily of her own disappearance, of her own death, as if she had already buried herself beneath the ashes of the past. “There aren’t any people besides you and Uta to mourn me.” Her words echoed in his mind, settling deep into the marrow of his bones. She had always been this way, from the moment he and Uta pulled her from the wreckage twelve years ago.

Twelve years ago, he had carried her from the wreckage of Elegia, burned and broken but still breathing.

Twelve years later, he still wondered if she had ever truly come back at all. A ghost among the living. A girl who never once asked why she had been left behind, who never screamed, never raged, never shed a tear for herself. She teased, she smiled, she stood quietly in the shadows— but she never told the truth. Never let anyone see the wounds beneath the bandages.

And that, more than anything, terrified him.

Because Saram wasn’t like Uta. Uta raged, Uta wept, Uta sought revenge against the world. But Saram? Saram simply existed. She had folded herself into the background, a phantom haunting the castle’s halls as if she were only borrowing time.

Gordon clenched his hands into fists. No… she wasn’t just borrowing time. She was giving it away.

To Uta.

To him.

To everyone but herself.

He looked back at the projection. Uta’s voice rang through the castle, powerful and entrancing, wrapping the world in its melody. Outside, the people of Elegia chanted her name, their desperation clinging to every note. The flickering light of the holographic projection cast shifting shadows across the stone walls, illuminating the cracks, the dust, the quiet ruin of a place that had once pulsed with music only to burn away under wrath. Uta's voice soared above it all, radiant and commanding, weaving a melody that wrapped itself around the hearts of the desperate.

Uta was a sun burning too brightly, pulling the world into her orbit.

And Saram—Saram was the ghost lingering at the edges of that light.

Gordon exhaled, his breath heavy, like something long decayed. He could still feel the weight of Saram’s presence in the air, like a specter unwilling to fade, yet never truly reaching for life. She had always carried herself like something already gone, like a memory trapped between moments, neither present nor absent, always just there. And it sickened him.

Not because he blamed her. Not because he didn’t understand.

But because he knew—one day, she wouldn’t just feel like a ghost.

She would become one.

And somewhere in the shadows of that grand spectacle, Saram watched, waiting. Gordon let out a slow breath and closed his eyes.

A rotting flower still carried the memory of its bloom. But memories couldn’t bring the dead back to life.

Gordon clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on his knees. If only she were angry, he thought bitterly. If only she raged like Uta did, if only she screamed; if only she wanted something for herself. But no—Saram didn’t cling to life, didn’t fight for it. She merely existed, out of obligation rather than desire; as if the embers of Elegia had burned through her soul, leaving only the fragile shell of what once was.

And now, now she was setting herself up to disappear completely.

The weight of it sat heavy in his chest, an ache older than the years that separated them. He should have said something before she left, should have told her that she was wrong—that there were people who would mourn her, that she wasn’t dead yet, that she didn’t have to be.

But ghosts don’t listen to the living.

He knew because he tried. Gordon knew because he had cried, broken down in front of her when she turned twenty, begging for forgiveness, cried for the scars on her skin which were a result of his incompetence towards his duty as a king, cried for the pain of her being left behind by Shanks, knelt on the ground crying as he pleaded for her to blame him, blame his carelessness: to do anything except smile at him and hold him with a softness undeserving for him.

The memory clung to him like the scent of rotting flowers—sickly sweet, thick in the air, impossible to escape. Even now, sitting in the warm ruin of the castle staircase, he could feel it, could taste it in the back of his throat. The weight of that night, the way his knees had hit the floor, the way his hands had grasped at nothing, at ghosts, at regret that had already taken root in his bones.

When she was younger.

When Saram was twenty.

She had sat in that chair by the open window, moonlight spilling over her in silver ribbons, making her look more like a specter than a girl. The wind carried in the scent of night-blooming flowers from the overgrown garden below, but beneath it, there was something else. Something bitter. Something like decay. Saram had turned around at the sound of his footsteps, strands slipping from their loose braid. She had known, even before he opened his mouth, what he had come to say.

“Saram,” his voice had broken before he could even begin, before he could find the right words, the right apologies.

She had only smiled, tilting her head like she was waiting for him to continue, like she wasn’t already bracing for it but the words never came. Instead, the weight of twelve years had come crashing down all at once, and he had fallen to his knees before her, hands trembling where they reached out, stopped, hovered in the space between them like he wasn’t worthy to touch her.

“I—” His breath had hitched. “I should have stopped everyone before Tot Musica had been released.”

She had said nothing, a soft gaze in her eyes that made him feel shame, feel him like a parasite that survived death.

“I should have done better as the King of this nation.”

Her eyes had softened, but she still didn’t speak.

“Saram, say something!” His voice had cracked under the weight of it, raw with grief, with guilt, with everything he had buried deep inside himself for over a decade. His hands clenched into fists against the floor, his nails biting into his palms. “I should have done better, should have locked away Tot Musica better - should have been the one to have those scars, not you!”

At that, she had sighed, quiet, resigned, like someone who had heard the same thing a thousand times before. And maybe she had. Maybe she had played this moment out in her head so many times that by the time it finally happened, she had already accepted it and yet, she did not blame him.

She did not curse him, did not lash out, did not tell him that he was a coward who had abandoned his people. She only stood, crossing the room with slow, measured steps, before she kneeled before him and, with a tenderness he did not deserve, she had reached out and cradled his face in her hands. Her palms were warm; warmer than they should have been, warmer than he had expected them to be.

“It wasn’t your fault, Gordon.” Her voice had been soft, steady, but there was something underneath it—something that made his chest ache, something like finality. “Not everything can be changed by human hands.”

His breath had hitched, his fingers digging into the fabric of his robes, his throat burning with words that could never be enough.

She had burned, had suffered, had spent twelve years in silence and still, she comforted him.

“Everyone left you to die,” he had choked out, hands shaking where they hovered near her wrists.

“But I didn’t,” she had whispered.

But they did, Gordon had thought. We did.

His grip had tightened. "Why are you so kind? How can you be so forgiving after—"

Saram had hushed him with a shake of her head, her fingers brushing against his temple, her touch feather-light, like she was afraid that if she pressed too hard, he would shatter completely. Maybe he would have, Saram always did comprehend people better than anyone else.

"Elegia mourns for the dead," she had murmured, her voice something distant, something already slipping away. "Not the ones who refuse to rest."

Her hands had fallen away from his face, slipping to her sides, leaving behind only warmth.

The wind shifted, carrying in the scent of the garden below, but all he could smell was the bitter memory of burning flesh, of withered petals crushed beneath his knees. The moonlight caught the edges of her scars where her sleeve had slipped down, and the sight of them made something inside him break all over again.

But Saram only smiled and Gordon had realized, with a deep, bone-deep dread, that he would never be able to reach her; because Saram had died that night. She was just too kind to let them, to let Uta and him, see it. He had crumbled then, his hands gripping at the worn stone beneath them, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. He had wept, shameful and broken, his forehead pressing against the cold ground at her feet; because how could he ever ask for forgiveness when she never saw a fault in anyone but her own fate?

"You deserved better," he had choked out. "You deserved so much more than this."

A hand—calloused, warm despite everything—had come to rest atop his head, her touch light, as if she were afraid he might break apart entirely.

"So did you, old man." She had laughed.

A quiet, breathy thing, so empty it might have been mistaken for the wind. Gordon had never hated a sound more in his life. How could she laugh so easily? How could she exist under the moonlight and act as if it was not dragging her more into the darkness? How could she stand there and laugh as if her very flesh was burned marred under her bandages?

In front of her laughter, Gordon had felt small. So small, so weak. That was the last time he had let himself beg because asking for forgiveness should not be so meager, he could not dare to reduce her strength to something so small. Now, standing in the hollow glow of the projection, he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat, pushing the memory back into the depths where it belonged.

Saram had made her choice all those years ago. She was merely walking towards the end of it now, freely, slowly but surely.

"What a mess," Saram murmured, sitting cross-legged and watching the concert-turned-chaos through the projection, she was bored, utterly, irrevocably bored, as she watched the mess, "Luffy has a pretty strong crew, huh?"

Her fingers tap in boredom against her knee in a rhythm as she sits, watching Luffy disappear with a green-haired guy, she hums and looks down over her shoulder on the bridge connecting the two towers, the sound of people talking, Annoying, this was my place.

"What the-?! Where the heck are we?!" The man gasped in surprise before speaking again, "Oh, so you're a fan of Uta-same, too, Trafalgar?"

"Wrong. I'm a chaperone."

Her eyes studied the new person, the yellow and red shirt unbuttoned with white shorts and that white hat, he was pretty tall too, she blinked as a polar bear decked out in concert attire walked out, a small amused smile appearing on her lips as she saw the bear, Cute.

They kept talking as Saram moved herself further into the shadows, watching with curiosity and slight amusement, it was funny how they were so engrossed with talking that they didn't see Uta coming near. Uta gave a very subtle, barely noticeable glance to Saram who shrugged and walked away from the area while Uta chased after them.

The older girl went towards the area where she had an inkling the four would run to, and she was right, leaning against the wall as she watched Gordon lead the guys into the broken-down chapel, a rather dumb decision though. From the second floor she kept an eye on them, Gordon had a tendency to get himself into trouble after all.

She listens to Gordon talk about Uta's past to the four, cheek resting against her fist as she pays attention to the story of Uta that is connected to her own. An amused gaze in her eyes as she watches the flashy attire and device of the polar bear start singing tunes, her smile fell as Gordon began talking about how Uta began to harbor hatred against pirates and all things wrong.

"Why.... why is the world so cruel, Saram?"

The young girl had cried to her one day and Saram had simply consoled her, "Because the world is not fair or equal."

An inaudible sigh leaves her as Gordon pleads to the pirates, she shakes her head, Uta wouldn't like this, she knew it, "Please! You have to stop Uta's plan! You were her friend, Luffy! You should be able to do it!"

After the three had escaped, Uta confronted Gordon. Once the place had cleared of outsiders, Saram hopped down to the ground, Gordon looked at her in surprise as Uta smiled at the older female.

"Saram, talk sense to her." Gordon pleaded as Saram turned her gaze to Uta, blinking.

"Saram?" Uta questioned as Saram walked closer to her before fixing her hair.

"You know the consequences of your plan, Uta. I know you won't stop, but if push comes to shove," Saram's eyes darkened as Uta swallowed, "You know."

Uta nodded and grinned before leaving, and Gordon yelled that the girl should not do it. Saram glanced at Gordon who was captured by Uta's powers, "I told you to stop trying with her." She sighed, she blinked as the mini polar bear appeared out of nowhere. She smiled and crouched down in front of it, "Your name is Bepo, yeah?" She pats his head before standing up.

"Sara-"

"I won't help you. Nor will I help Uta. I told you two already, you two keep doing as you please, I don't care." Saram says to him before looking at the polar bear, "Break this if you want to see your friend, the Trafalgar guy, it'll take you to him." She hands him and crystal before casting one look at Gordon.

"Where are you going, Saram?" Gordon asked, something in him felt cold as he saw the familiar detached gaze and expression on her face, his blood going cold as she smiled, shadows on her face.

"Making a stop and then the real world."

Gordon knew; knew that Uta had given her free reign to crossing the borders of real and fake, that Saram was the only who wielded enough power to stop Uta. He also knew that Saram - she had no interest of what became of the world.

Before he could say anything, she had already left.

Saram sat beside Uta on top of the rainbow waters, hood up as she sighed, "You know that your body is breaking down, right?"

"I know."

"I see."

"I saw Luffy."

"I know."

"He is a pirate."

"I heard."

"Sa-"

"I am glad, he grew up well." Saram had a smile on her lips as she said those words, Uta clenched her jaw, "Saram, he is-"

"Don't be so unkind, he is still your childhood friend. Besides, I can't blame him for anything, he was as innocent as you."

Saram looked back at the sound of footsteps coming near her and Uta, she already knew who it was, the only other kid who had been apart of her childhood - Luffy. She gave a nod to Uta, "I'm heading out first."

Uta nodded and Saram was gone.

Uta spoke, "What are you doing here? You can fight me over and over, but you'll never win."

Luffy came to a stop behind her sitting form, a determined expression on his face, "It's not over yet."

Uta teased him, turning around with a grin, "There you go again, you sore loser!" Her smile fell as he took a step forward, "Then, I guess we'll have to settle this with a fight, like we used to, Luffy."

She snapped her fingers and soldiers materialized from tunes, attacking him, each one he deflected using his gum-gum powers, she smiled solemnly, "You're not even trying to hit me."

"What you're doing is wrong!"

"I could say that to you, Luffy. You need to realize that the Great Pirate Era is over. Why do you wanna be the King of the Pirates so bad, anyway?" She holds his hat.

"To make a new era."

"Luffy--!"

He was thrown back as Uta raged, "The Great Pirate Era began with Roger's execution...." Swords were pointed at his neck as Uta gripped the straw hat with force, "Now, Luffy, it's gonna end with yours!"

"Don't do it! Uta!"

"You! You used to love the Red-Haired Pirates so much! Why do you hate pirates now?!"

"Its Shanks' fault."

At her words, he looked at her in surprise, "I thought of him.... like my own father!" Tears fell as she spoke, Luffy's eyes widening, "I considered everyone on that ship to be family! But that was just a lie they told me! That's why.... Shanks abandoned me! He left me behind on Elegia!"

"He said it was so you could become a singer!"

"Wrong!"

"Shanks would never do something like that! And you know it!" Luffy yelled after listening to Uta, pushing off the soldiers.

"Then explain the last twelve years! You're nothing but a tool for Shanks, too, Luffy!"

"Shanks is coming."

"To save you?" Uta mocked him.

Saram watched the rain fall as the conversation between the two continued. She had been listening to their entire exchange as she sat on the roof of a building, rain pelting down on her.

"To save you."

"Me? Why?"

"You think he's gonna sit back while his daughter pulls something like this?!" Luffy yelled, his tone serious and determined, Uta faced him fully, she paused before speaking, "I am not his only daughter, Luffy."

"What do you me-" He paused, right, she was also there wasn't she? That girl who always used to hide, Shanks' blood daughter, "You're talking about Saram, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Saram died, Shanks told me." Luffy said quietly, his voice laced with pain.

Uta smiled solemnly, "Right... that's what everyone thinks, right?"

"What're you talking about?" Luffy frowned, Uta blinked as tears fell, "What's the point of saying it?"

"Uta.... he's coming to save you."

"He abandoned me.... he's not coming."

The rain came down in sheets, soaking through the tattered fabric of Saram’s cloak, making it cling to her like a second skin. The weight of it was suffocating, dragging her down, but she made no move to shake it off. She simply sat there, still as stone, letting the cold seep into her bones.

Saram stared at the sky, raindrops sliding down her face, she felt her heart tighten at their words, at Uta's words. Shanks had abandoned Uta for her well-being, for her growth, and for Saram? She smiled, something rotten and dirty coiling in her chest, its claws digging into her lungs yet her breathes never stopping.

She had never minded the rain.

It washed things away, smothered the embers before they could grow into something uncontrollable. It blurred the lines between the living and the dead, between what was real and what had long since crumbled into nothing.

And yet, it could never quite wash away the rot. Saram exhaled, her breath curling in the air like smoke, like the last wisps of a fire that refused to die.

"Saram died, Shanks told me."

Luffy's voice echoed in her skull, rattling against the hollow parts of her, the places where something human had once lived.

"Right... that's what everyone thinks, right?"

Uta's voice—soft, bitter, laced with the kind of sorrow that dug its nails into flesh and never let go. Saram tilted her head back, staring up at the dark sky, feeling the raindrops slide down her face like phantom fingers.

So that was it.

She was dead.

Not in the way she had once wished for, body lost to the sea, swallowed whole by something greater than herself. No, she was dead in the way a forgotten song was. In the way Elegia was. A ruin, a fragment of something once bright, left to decay in silence.

She let out a breath, slow and measured, as if the wrong movement would shatter her.

"You're talking about Saram, aren't you?"

"I am."

It was funny, in a way, how easily her existence could be rewritten. She had been left behind, erased by time and silence, only to resurface in whispers, in the spaces between words. Saram died. But the truth was, she had been rotting long before anyone thought to name her dead.

She could still remember it—the fire.

The way it ate through the city, through her flesh, through everything she had ever known. The heat had been unbearable, blistering, peeling away the softest parts of her until all that remained was something raw and ruined, she knew something inside her had snapped, had twisted into something unrecognizable. The fire had stolen so much from her. It had burned away her illusions.

The Red-Haired Pirates were never going to come back for her.

Shanks had made his choice.

She had fallen in the wreckage of Elegia, her body broken, her skin scorched, waiting for the impossible and like she expected, no one had come. Just Gordon. Just Uta.

She swallowed hard, fingers tightening into fists.

"Shanks is coming."

"To save you."

The words twisted in her gut, sharp and jagged, an intrusion where there should have been nothing.

Shanks was going to come for Uta.

Of course, he was. She mocked herself in her thoughts.

Uta, with her fire, her music, her rage. Uta, who screamed her grief into the world, demanding to be seen, to be heard.

Saram had never done that, had never demanded anything.

She had simply—existed, and that, perhaps, was why no one ever thought to look for her. She smiled to herself, something bitter and twisted curling at the edges of her lips, could almost laugh - all these years, and she was still nothing more than a ghost. A burned thing with torn wings, too broken to fly, too stubborn to die.

The rain soaked through her hood, dripped down her face in cold rivulets, but it could not cool the heat that had once melted through her skin, through her bones, through the fragile hope she had once carried in her chest like a flickering candle.

Hope that he would come back.

Hope that she mattered.

Hope that she wasn’t a mistake.

But the fire had burned through all of it.

Saram exhaled, slow, steady, like smoke curling from the ruins of something long abandoned. She let her fingers trail over her forearm, feeling the rough, uneven skin beneath the soaked fabric of her sleeve. The scars had long since healed, but they had never softened. They were ridges, thick and ugly, carved into her like a brand—something permanent, something she could never wash away.

No one but Gordon and Uta know about them.

She should have been grateful for that. That she could hide the evidence of the fire’s hunger, pretend that it hadn’t tried to devour her whole.

But even if the world couldn’t see it, she could.

"Shanks is coming."

She laughed, hollow and soundless, something brittle cracking in her chest. Of course, he was coming.

For Uta.

For his daughter.

Because she had always been his daughter first, hadn’t she?

Uta, who had been chosen.

Uta, who had been loved.

Saram had only ever been an afterthought. A mistake that should never have been born. She had seen it in his eyes, once—long ago, before the fire, before the pain, before she had truly understood what she was. Seen the way he looked at Uta, with warmth, with pride, with a love so fierce and unshaken that it burned brighter than any sea-split dawn.

And then there was the way he looked at her. Not cruel. Never cruel. but distant. Guarded. Like something fragile. Like something he didn’t know what to do with. Like something he never should have had in the first place.

Saram squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her palm against the burn scars hidden beneath her sleeve, feeling the ridges and the pain they no longer carried.

She could never forget.

She could never let herself forget.

Shanks had abandoned Uta to save her, and he had abandoned her because she was never meant to exist in the first place. And even after twelve years, the knowledge still tore her apart, why could she not be loved? What did Uta have that she did not?

"Enough is enough, Luffy." Saram blinked at the sky at the words spoken by Uta echoing in her ears, something in the tone she spoke, "Bye-bye."

She thought she was going to hear the sound of metal piercing skin and closed her eyes.

Click.

The sound of something stopping Uta echoed in her ears and she slowly opened her eyes, "It's been a while... and I felt like hearing you sing."

Shanks.

Suddenly, the raindrops sliding down her felt warm as Saram stared at the sky, her throat seizing up, as she clenched her fists. Uta's laughter rang out as Saram looked over her shoulder to where the people were gathered, even from the distance she could see the dark red of his hair, she smiled.

"You really came for your daughter, huh, dad?" She whispered to herself, Uta's eyes widened as she heard Saram's whisper, her breath hitching. Saram’s voice, quiet as a whisper, yet it had crashed through her mind like a tidal wave.

Uta barely registered the way Shanks stood before her, the steady weight of his hand stopping her own. The raindrops fell heavier now, cold against her skin, but all she could hear—all she could feel—was Saram’s voice curling around her ribs like something fragile and breaking.

She knew that tone.

She knew it.

That quiet, resigned smile. That distant warmth that never reached her eyes. The same way Saram had spoken when she had told Gordon she wasn’t afraid to disappear. When she had promised, again and again, that she would keep Uta safe—as if that was all she had left to give. Uta’s throat tightened.

It should have made her angry.

Saram had always been like this—always watching from the edges, always fading into the background, always acting as if her existence didn’t matter and yet— Uta gritted her teeth, her fingers curling into her palm.

You really came for your daughter, huh, dad?

Why did it sound like Saram was saying goodbye? Why did it sound like she had already accepted her place outside of this moment—outside of him? She didn’t even sound bitter. Not anymore. Just... tired.

Like she had known this would happen, had expected it, had always expected it. Shanks was standing in front of her. Shanks had come to save her and somewhere far away, in the rain, Saram was smiling. Uta felt something crack deep in her chest. The marines, the pirates, the civilians, people only ever hurt others, she knew that as she stared at the man bleeding, she knew that when Saram was wrapped in bandages from the burns of Elegia.

She stood up, coiling her hands in the air, moving away from Hongo, from the dead body, from the people.

"Bad guys need to look like bad guys. I should've done this sooner." Uta spoke and used her powers to clothe the people in her dream reality into black outfits.

Saram sighed and turned off the mind link, she hadn't meant for Uta to hear her but she did. This was her sign, huh? She had avoided getting involved in this mess for so long and now she had to get in. Saram pushed herself to her feet as she stretched, "Looks like she's gonna activate it."

"These ancient words like a hymn of reclamation,

Not even death will escape them."

"What a mess." She watched from the top of tower, she could see Shanks fighting it, see the look on Hongo's face, see the look on Beckman's face as he fought.

She jumped down

Saram moved.

The moment her feet hit the ground, she was running.

The streets of Elegia blurred past her, the rain turning the cobblestone slick beneath her boots. The once-grand island, now fractured and broken, welcomed her steps like an old ghost returning home. Water splashed beneath her, droplets scattering in her wake, but she didn’t slow. She couldn’t. Above her, Uta’s voice rang out, a hymn of unraveling. The sky itself trembled at the sound, the melody vibrating through her bones, pressing against her ribs like something alive, something ancient.

"This weeping and wailing has gone far too long

Nothing left but to yell! Yeah! Yeah!"

The world was shifting. Reality cracking at its seams.

Saram grit her teeth as she weaved through the debris-strewn streets, dodging crumbling structures and fallen beams. A tower leaned dangerously to one side, its foundation weakened, the aftermath of the destruction painting the town in shades of ruin and memory.

She took a sharp turn, leaping over the remains of a shattered bridge, her heart hammering in her chest. The wind howled through the empty alleyways, carrying the distant echoes of battle—the clash of swords, the sharp crack of gunfire, the shouts of pirates and Marines pushing against an enemy they couldn’t see.

And above it all—Shanks.

She could feel his presence even before she saw him.

He was fighting against the very fabric of this nightmare, his sword cutting through the false sky with relentless force. Hongo moved beside him, Beckman’s rifle fired shot after precise shot, but it was the look on their faces that struck her the most.

Desperation.

They knew they were losing.

Saram’s breath came in short bursts as she pushed forward. Her hood fell back as she jumped onto a slanted rooftop, the world tilting under her feet. From up here, she could see it all. The chaos. The ruin. The impossible weight of what Uta was about to unleash.

She sighed as Gordon was stabbed in the dream realm, the projection on her wrist allowing her to see it, Gordon tells her the truth as she dodged the falling debris in the real world, away from the eyes of the people, standing in the shadows.

"Uta! You heard him! I knew Shanks was a good guy!" Luffy grinned, Saram shook her head as she slowly walked through the paths and reaching the edge of the forest.

"It's too late." She murmured as the meter glowed red on her wrist. She tapped the switch on her wrist device as Uta was consumed by Tot Musica. The device was connected to a world outside her own, a tether to those who remained unaware of the storm she was about to stir.

"Luffy, everyone."

Saram's voice echoed through the dream realm causing Luffy and the others to pause, the former's eyes widening.

"That voice... who's speaking?" Nami dodged another attack.

"You all don't know me but I am Luffy and Uta's childhood friend," She paused staring at the destruction raging ahead, as her voice carried a strange weight, a quiet confidence that seemed to resonate through the chaos. Luffy’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. His chest tightened, memories of a time long gone flickering at the edges of his mind.

“My name is Saram,” the voice continued, “and I am going to help you out of this mess.”

"Saram....." Luffy repeated in surprise.

Saram helped them out, guiding Koby and the others, she spoke to Brulee directly, "The pretty lady with the blonde hair, your name is Brulee, right?"

Brulee, a bit flustered at the complliment, nodded, "I am."

"I'll give you the information, can you carry it over to your brother, Katakuri?" Saram said as she eyed Katakuri from the distance.

"Why can't you go, if you don't mind me asking?" Brulee asked, Saram licked her lips, staring at the distance, "Please, Brulee-san, help me out, I can't go there at this moment."

The sincerity in her voice made Brulee nod, she passed the information over to Katakuri who in return told Shanks. Saram, meanwhile, did her own preparations.

"You've all got it from here?" Saram said, everyone in the dream realm yelled in agreement, and she waited, watching them fight.

After the fight was over, Saram moved. She saw Shanks run over to Uta and kneel by her side, "Shanks.... I.."

"Its fine! It's over now." He said panicked, calling out to Hongo who threw a bottle of medicine at him, catching it, he brought it to her lips, "If you drink this and sleep right away, you'll make it."

"Shanks... I didn't wanna see you again..." Uta said weakly, "But... I missed you!"

"Stop talking! Hurry and drink."

Seeing Uta throw away the medicine after refusing to drink because she wanted to fix everything made Saram sigh. She shook her and walked over to them.

At the sound of footsteps and glass, Shanks looked up, along with the others who looked in that direction.

"Seriously, Uta, I told you to leave the aftermath to me." She sighed and crouched down beside her, Shanks narrowed his eyes, his chest tight, something about her was familiar.

"Sorry..." Uta said weakly.

Shanks' and the Red Haired Pirates' eyes widened as the figure took off their hood, "Troublesome you are, Uta."

"You-!"

Shanks felt his blood go cold along with his crew.

"Its been awhile, dad." She said quietly.

"Saram...." Hongo's voice quivered.

"No time for that now." She shook her head and brought a vial from her side bag, "Drink, Uta. I've got it from here."

"Saram.... I'm the musician of the Red Haired Pirates... I have to.." Uta protested as Saram shook her head and handed the vial to Shanks, "Help her drink this, I'll fix this mess."

Before letting him speak, she leaped and got on to the raised platform, pulling out an earpiece from her bag, she put it on, "What a mess."

She sighed before facing one hand upwards, taking a deep breath, a melody ringing out, the device on her wrist gleaming a blue color, her heart thumping.

"Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet."

Uta's eyes fluttered, as she watched Saram stand under the gleaming sunset, her body glowing a golden-yellow color, the hues spreading out. She and Saram had set up that device, imbedding it with some of Uta's powers for something like this. Shanks looked at Saram, his chest still stammering, she had been alive. Saram had been alive all this time. And he... he thought she was dead.

At her melody, the unconscious bodies stopped fighting and fell limp on the group, golden hues leaving them and going towards Saram who sang a melody that was bringing everyone back.

"To this everlasting melody,

Face to face, we dance."

Uta was weak against him, the golden flares ribboning around them all from Saram. All eyes were on her, her movements, the softness of her voice. Gordon widened his eyes in the dream realm as golden hues circled them.

"That doesn't sound like Uta." Chopper questioned to which Gorgon shook his head with a smile, "That's not Uta. That's —"

"Saram. That's Saram." Luffy smiled.

"It feels like my heart is aching yet so warm." Nami frowned as Robin nodded, "It's sweet yet feels a bit bitter."

"To be engulfed in silence

In your gaze, where I'm seen."

Gordon sighed, closing his eyes, all of them closing their eyes. Saram was guiding them all back home.

Once she believed that her work was done, Saram stopped. She licked her lips, turned around and jumped off the higher area, walking towards Shanks and Uta with Luffy lying on the ground. She paused in her steps as she saw the crew standing around them as well, knowing that the audience had come back, Saram moved.

She was able to take only two steps back when her path was blocked.

"Beckman."

"Saram."

I did not expect this to become so long, crying because the one-shot turned into multiple parts, will update the next parts soon! the song I used for Saram's part is CURE (SUA & MIZI.ver) | Alien Stage the link is attached. love ya, see y'all!

tag: @thebunnednun @captainportgasdace

[apocalypseofgoodandevil]

Im disappointed in myself im going to explode.

Presented some concepts for pawsible ship kids between @fizzyboy 's cubert and Connie

But I got way too attatched to one of them and I just. Totally character ified them.

Related to the two in question? Probably not.

.

Enough yapping

Get it bc its like. Pandoras box. Get it guys-

[cosmicwhoreo]

due to the requests of a very SPECIFIC and might I add, MANIPULATIVE Grim Reaper I loathe to call a friend that I will not name- I was asked to doodle my own version of Herobrine for their B day. And I couldn't stop after that-

Tl;Dr- damn you @grimmixxart

[ryminsteddiesashanne]

Kang Dae Ho icons

🎀BOW-NUS🎀