#So I thought people were arguing or something

[lyricwritesprose]

Disgust is not a very good guide to morality, but people keep using it as one.

Listen, I came of age in the nineties. I was also in the BGLAD organization at my college, first as an ally, then as bi. (And yes, they thoroughly welcomed allies at the time on account of not being stupid.) So we were still fighting for a lot of rights for gay men at the time—trans people were there but flying mostly under the radar, my helpless crush on a trans girl notwithstanding—and the people arguing against it tended to bring up the fact that they were revolted by anal. Some of the reasons were specious; they'd been told that anal sex would cause anal prolapse and permanent leaking. Some of the reasons were just—they thought buttholes were disgusting.

I remember a friend—well, he was the sort of friend who continually walked the line of "is he too fucking irritating to count as a friend anymore," staying on the right side of the line mostly because he was usually friendly and funny, you know the type—saying, "I can't support gay people because it's gross and it's full of crap and penises are not supposed to go there!"

What I thought of saying five minutes later, and possibly should have said, except by that time we were thoroughly moved on to talking about something else—was, "It's not your butthole, Gary."

But you will notice that Gary did not make a moral argument. Gary did not make an ethical argument. Gary made a very simple appeal to disgust. If you find this distasteful, you must agree with me that it's morally wrong.

It doesn't work that way.

These days we are fighting narratives against trans people which talk about how gross people find various surgeries, and it's the same damn fallacy.

We gotta shake that fallacy. We've got to understand that just because we find something upsetting, it isn't automatically suspect, and furthermore might not be upsetting or disturbing to someone else.

[apocalyqsc]

photoshoot tension

cw; divorced!jensen a. x personal assistant!reader—afab!reader, smut, slight mutual pinning, tension, reader imagines sex w jensen before it happens, arguing, drunk makeup sex, unprotected sex (wrap ‘fore u tap), oral (m! recipient), maybe breeeding kink, age gap (jensen is obviously in his fourties, reader is in their twenties), probably wrote the getting drunk wrong because I’ve never drank before so erm help, morning after.

author’s note; so ik he’s married but what’s better than if he was freshly divorced so uhm yeah, i actually love his wife so i hope they never get divorced but it’s the thought that counts </3

JENSEN under the white flashing lights just stirred up every emotion in you. but he’s just divorced—it’s a clean slate for him. and you can’t jump onto him as soon as it happens. though nobodies stopping you from making up scenarios of whatever you wanted.

to sex in an motel to his dressing room. their were a lot of places. but oh, scrub those thoughts away. quickly.

after the photoshoot, jensen had disappeared to his dressing room. your heart pounded in your chest, all the way to your ribs. you knocked on the door, his gruff reply telling you to come in. you slowly opened the door as you slipped in the room. “so tomorrow you have a day off—but sunday you have another photoshoot,” you rambled off. you weren’t really focusing on him (in fear the impounding thoughts of an inappropriate relationship with you and him would start back up).

“slow down.” jensen let out a soft huff. you had a strange habit to ramble off about plans, it gave you a unique character. but it could also be extremely annoying. that’s what jensen liked about you. it’s why he kept you around to begin with, well, whenever most people would go home. you’d stay. and he wouldn’t say anything “cancel sunday.” “but—” “cancel sunday, okay?” he stared at you sternly. he understood it was nudging towards valentine’s day, yeah—he knew. he just needed a break from all the chaos.

your breath hitched in frustration whenever you had to take the pen and cross out sunday. “you really shouldn’t cancel this photoshoot.” you muttered in yet again, more annoyance.

jensen rolled his eyes, “it’s fine.” you cut your eyes up at him, finally looking away from the calendar.

“no it’s not. it’s coming closer to valentine’s day and you need to give your fans something—i know you’ve been going through a divorce and all, but life sucks. you can’t cancel, it took me months to get the photoshoot booked.” you said, your annoyance rising. you weren’t sure if you meant it or not. but it was a ‘in the moment’ spur. that’s what made jensen upset. he wasn’t feeling very valentiney the month. out of all the months, he had to get divorced finalized in february.

he rolled his eyes, “well once you go through a divorce in february, you won’t be in the mood for cupid photoshoots.” he shoved off the chair he was sitting in, brushing past you. you let out a scoff as he left, obviously leaving. so in time being, the both of you were at an impasse, a deadlock. though neither of you liked that. not at all. not one bit. there were tensions left unsaid, more than just argument tension. built up, sexual, passion tension.

“jensen, you can’t leave without talking to me!” you huffed in annoyance. he very well could. he was a grown man. though his schedule was handled by a person who was half his age. he ran his fingers through his hair as he walked away. only stopping to cut an eye at you.

ՙ ૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა .

it was god knows what time, but you found jensen at a local bar, seemingly avoiding paparazzi. you took a seat beside him, muttering a soft apology. he gave you a court nod. he ordered for the bartender to bring out yet another beer for the ‘pretty girl’ quote his words. it was a good idea. not one bit. but you couldn’t just waste the beer. that’s, that’s not good for the environment.

yeah, not good for the environment at all. but the one thing you didn’t do was spewl out an apology to him. your ego was apparently a little to big to apologize. you brought the glass to your lips, the foam from the beer collection on your upper lip. almost giving you a better mustache than jensen. jensen couldn’t help but let out a little snort, swiping his thumb across your upper lip, without warning. your breath hitched softly before pulling away from his thumb. “thanks. for the uhm beer.” you muttered, only making jensen grin deviously.

shy thing you were when it came to physical contact. “your welcome angel.” jensen whispered hoarsely as he brought his glass to his lips. “so, what’ve you been doing?” he asked you. their wasn’t much of a conversation to have with your personal assistant whenever they spent the whole day around you. so he knows what you’ve been doing. keeping him in line.

“oh nothin’ much” you slurred. “jus’ gettin’ li’l drunk now.” jensen cracked a smile, his hand finding the small of your back. it was a subtle movement, but an intimate one, at that. the soft smile from your lips almost—almost dropped into a derpy little grin. a drunk grin.

“oh yeah?” he mused with a grin a he took a gulp from his glass. “hope that works well for you.” you were definitely a little buzzed at this point, the way you were being so open to him is something you’d never do if you were fully sober. you shot a soft smile before going back to your drinking. from what he could tell, you were a lightweight, “don’t drink to much, ya need to be in the right mind to leave, don’tcha?”

“yeah.” you huffed, “but ‘t’s jus’ to good to leave unattended.” jensen much rather hang out with his personal assistant drunk than sober. god, sometimes you were a complete headache. he sent a soft smile your way as you kept drinking. though it was a few moments later, you were snagging your keys off the bar.

“leavin’ me so soon sweetheart?” he cocked his head at you. you were to fun to leave, “at least let me get you an uber, better yet, let me take you home.” you nodded, slapping your keys in his hand. you got up, and he followed after. you looked like an absolute angel drunk, especially under the bars flashing sign. but he wouldn’t admit that out loud. “now, which one is your car.”

you waved your finger in his face before landing it on a pretty black suv. “that one.” he placed his hand on your back, listening to your drunken rambling. again, total drunk angel. he unlocked the car, opening the passenger door for you. he stood behind you, making sure you didn’t fall onto your ass. jensen propped himself against the seat, reaching across to buckle you up. when he pulled away, your face had morphed into a little grin, and you burst out into little giggles. like a schoolgirl. it was adorable, really it was.

jensen walked around to the driver side. as he climbed into the car, turning the car on—it tumbled to life. you had slumped in your seat, getting a little shut eye time. when he drove to your house, the lights from the city’s lamp lights steady and slowly flashed by, jensen squinting every so slightly under the surprise of each light. he let out a soft breath, his gaze going over to you every so often.

he pulled into a place he new best; a motel. he wasn’t completely sure where you lived, nor did he want to take you to his place and have you gasp awake in fear that you got kidnapped. jensen turned the car off, getting out and walking to your side.

jensen tugged your body out the car. when he shut the door, you opened your eyes. “put me down,” you huffed drunkenly. though he wasn’t one to deny any one of anything, so he slowly placed you on your feet. you pressed yourself against him when you almost fell, staring up at him. it felt like a romance movie. but you were both a little buzzed. at least you were now a little bit buzzed from the effects of the drinking. jensen held you against his body, hands going to your hips.

he guided you inside, where he immediately walked to the clerk at the front desk. “hi. can i get a room, for me ‘n the pretty angel?” jensen said smoothly. the clerk looked up—not at all amused, not phased by jensen’s flirty behavior. she didn’t even take a double look at him, not noticing that he was literally -jensen-freaking-ackles.

he grabbed the keys from the clerk and guided you down to the room of the number on the key. jensen guided you in the room, and before the door was even shut, you were pressing your lips on his. “hey,” he let out soft breath, as he held your shoulders, pushing you away. “your drunk.” jensen brushed your hair with his fingers, guiding you to your bed.

you looked at him with puppy dog eyes, “please?” you let out a soft whine. he didn’t want to deny you. like, just look at that face. he let out a huff as he grabbed your hips, pulling you on top of him. you slowly grinded your clothed hip on his—immediately drawing a reaction from him from the motion. he shouldn’t have been doing this. maybe the beer was clouding his judgment. but, god damn did it feel good. “shit—careful” he said, grabbing a hold of your waist to stop you. jensen’s breath was warm—and already panting. he slowly lifted your hips to tug your pants down. he pulled them off your ankles, tossing them onto the floor. jensen ran his fingers along the pattern of your white floral lace. he pulled them off your body, carefully as they guided down your freshly shaved legs. his breath shuddered at the sight of your bare cunt on view to him. he sat up to guide your shirt off your body. and with years of practicing, used one hand to fall back to your bra clip—and unclipped it.

your breathing picked up as you fell to jensen’s pants, you pulled the button through the hole, pushing his pants down. following his boxers. as you pushed the items off him, you followed. you stopped at his cock—kissing it to life. your breath wavered at the sight of it as it sprung to life. you wrapped your hands around the base, licking the tip. testing the waters before you sunk your head around his erected member. you bobbed your head up and down on his member.

jensen’s hand came to make a makeshift ponytail out of your hair—guiding you up and down. jensen let out a noise slip through his lip, almost whimeper-y like, but a moan. you let out a muted gag, your hands falling away from the base of his member. “fu—mmh—ck!” you cried out. tears built up at your waterline. not in pain, but pleasure. he pulled your head up when he neared release.

“wanna do it in you—” jensen breathed breathlessly, “need’ya to be full of my come.”

you nodded softly. “m’kay.” you huffed out breathlessly—pulling yourself up. you sunk down onto his memeber, your head lolling backwards. letting out a soft moan. jensen held your hips in a vise as he guided you up and down on him, one of his hands shifting to rub your cunt in slow, soft circles. you walls clenched around him, the bed hit the wall ever so often. “jensen—ah—to big!”

jensen hummed, pulling your hair gently. “but your doin’ so good my angel.” he placed his hand back on your hip as the bounces started getting sloppy. “not to sloppy.” he drew his hand away from your cunt going to brush the hair out of your face. the way your face scrunched up—jensen let out soft grunts that were lower than your moans. with your head lolled back, mouth open, it tempted jensen. his thumb seemed towards your mouth. your moans got cut off by a gagging noise. his thumb had worked it’s way into your mouth. you bit down on his finger—but not to hardly.

jensen grinned when he felt you bit down “don’t hurt me angel.” he muttered softly.

the rain started up outside, it pitter-y patter-yied against the window and roof. the bed springs constantly screamed in protest under the movement. muffled noises of people talking came from the other rooms—and likewise, they heard the commotion located in three thirty-seven. occasionally a grumpy man would bang against the wall for the two of you to stop, but it never deterred the either of you.

with each bounce, with each muffled moan, with each grunt—both you and jensen neared closer to release. your walls clenched around him like clockwork. “come. come on my cock—c’mon.” he hummed, his hand on your hip, burning intentions into your skin, the same thumb rubbing circles on your hips. his other hand still in your mouth. and almost—in synch, like the command of you coming struck something in the both of you. jensen painted your gummy pink walls white, and your came around his cock.

you collapsed beside him, his limp member slipping out of you as you shifted off him. you kissed his chest sleepily. slowly falling asleep his seed warmed you right up. you closed your eyes—and fell asleep. but not jensen. he pulled you into his arms. and maybe he was regretting it. regretting it so terribly; you where his personal assistance. although guilt would have to wait til later—maybe at twelve pm tomorrow. but now, you two slept. you slept off the soreness of the sex.

when you woke up, the outside world was unaware of what had happened that night. completely unware that a freshly divorce actor had got it off with his personal assistant. the sun fought against the fog as it poured through the curtain, and jensen was in the shower.

you walked to the bathroom, opening the door. with a sleepy voice, you asked “got room for one more.” jensen pulled the curtain back, inviting you under the shower hose with him. the water acting a soothing mechanism. jensen used the motel soap—and a motel rag to clean your body off. you looked up at him with a soft—almost devious smile as you whispered a soft “thank you.” and maybe that was for last night—and maybe that was for him washing you. it was really to be interpreted anyway he preferred.

in a shaky breath, he whispered back an audible “your welcome” as he stared down your soapy body. jensen pressed his lips against yours, the rag dropping to the bathroom floor. when you pulled away, you both had a smile on your face. though the neither of you knew what this meant to your relationship. was it going to happen again? meant to be? or just a drunken mistake? you didn’t know. jensen didn’t know. but it sure as hell had some remarkable sex in it.

[heliosunny]

Has anyone request lucky egg caelus yet? I need my chaos racoon to cause mischief 🥺

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Caelus x Reader

You had never been particularly lucky, but when you rolled for an egg from the Lucky Egg Dispenser, you had high hopes. People boasted about hatching the cutest little companions—puppies, fluffy birds, tiny dragons. Yours was a smooth, pale-gold egg, warm to the touch. The label promised it would hatch in three days.

For three nights, you kept it safe on your bedside table, checking it every so often. It twitched occasionally, as if whatever was inside was stirring. But on the third night, you woke up to an eerie silence.

The egg was gone.

At first, you thought maybe it had rolled off, but there was no trace of it anywhere. Panic set in, your thoughts racing. Did someone steal it? Did it hatch and escape?

Then came the noise. A terrible scraping sound, something heavy being dragged across the floor. You snapped your head toward the living room, heart pounding.

What you saw nearly made you scream.

A whole trash can—your trash can—was in the middle of the room, its contents spilled everywhere. But what truly sent shivers down your spine was the person standing beside it. A tall man, with golden eyes that gleamed like a predator’s in the dim light. His clothes were slightly disheveled, hair tousled as if he had just climbed out of something.

"Hey!"

"Wh-Who are you?"

He tilted his head, expression oddly affectionate despite the intensity in his gaze.

"I'm yours, of course" he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You picked me. Took care of me- your very own Caelus"

Caelus was still watching you like a cat that had cornered its prey, but you weren’t about to deal with whatever weird attachment issues he had. You pinched the bridge of your nose and pointed toward the bathroom.

“You reek,” you said bluntly. “Go take a bath.”

He blinked, tilting his head like a confused puppy. “What’s a bath?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t mess with me.”

A slow smirk curled his lips. “You caught on fast.” And with that, he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you alone with the mess he’d made.

You sighed. If he was going to act like some overgrown, clingy pet, then he was going to follow house rules. You rolled up your sleeves and went to the kitchen. Might as well make breakfast while he cleaned up.

By the time you finished cooking, Caelus was still nowhere to be seen. The bathroom door was slightly open, steam curling from inside.

“Hey, you better not be taking a nap in there!” you called out.

A moment later, he emerged—shirtless, damp hair sticking to his forehead. The fresh scent of soap clung to him, making him seem almost normal.

His gaze flickered to the table, where you had set out plates of food. “You made breakfast?”

“Yeah. But you’re not eating until you clean up your mess.” You pointed at the disaster zone that was the living room. Trash was still everywhere, furniture slightly displaced from whatever chaos had occurred last night. “You’re the reason my living room looks like this, so you’re going to clean it.”

Caelus simply stared at you, unmoving.

You crossed your arms. “If you don’t, I’m leaving.”

That got a reaction. His entire body tensed, his fingers twitching as if the mere thought of you leaving was unbearable. His playful smirk dropped.

“…You wouldn’t” he murmured.

“Try me.”

For a long, agonizing second, you thought he was going to argue. But then, with a reluctant sigh, he walked past you toward the mess, grumbling under his breath.

At least he was trainable.

Breakfast was supposed to be peaceful. But no, of course, it wasn’t.

Caelus sat across from you, staring at his untouched food with that same unreadable expression.

“I won’t eat unless you feed me.”

You stopped mid-bite, lowering your fork. “You what?”

His lips curled into a lazy smirk. “You heard me.” He propped his chin on his hand, his gaze never leaving yours. “I think it’d taste better if you fed me.”

You were already exhausted. “No. Eat it yourself.”

“But I—”

“I’ll leave.”

“…Fine” he muttered, finally picking up his fork.

It was almost funny how well that worked. You made a mental note: Threatening to leave makes him cooperate.

---

Your job wasn’t particularly dangerous—at least, not compared to those who actually entered the dungeons. You worked as a post-dungeon health examiner, checking up on adventurers after they cleared floors to make sure they didn’t suffer from curses, afflictions, or physical injuries they hadn’t noticed.

It was an important job, but today, all anyone could talk about was the tall, golden-eyed man trailing behind you like a silent bodyguard.

“Is that your new assistant?” someone asked, eyeing Caelus curiously.

You opened your mouth to deny it, but before you could, Caelus nodded.

“Yeah,” he said smoothly. “That’s me.”

You shot him a glare, but he only looked pleased with himself. You weren’t even sure what he was capable of—certainly not healing like you.

But then, during a routine check, something happened.

A man who had just cleared the first floor suddenly went wild, his eyes bloodshot, his body convulsing. Maybe the dungeon had been too much for him. Maybe he had been cursed. Either way, before you could react, he lunged at you.

crack

The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Caelus stood over him, gripping a baseball bat he must have snatched from somewhere nearby.

“You’re welcome” he said casually.

By the time you got home, exhaustion weighed heavily on your limbs. The day had been long—checking on countless adventurers, dealing with injuries, and, of course, Caelus bashing a man unconscious with a baseball bat.

You barely had the energy to take another step when you felt something warm press against your back.

"Get on" Caelus said.

"...What?"

"You look dead on your feet," he said, as if that was explanation enough. "I'll carry you."

You hesitated. Letting him carry you felt... weird. But your legs were killing you.

"...Fine."

The second you agreed, Caelus crouched slightly, allowing you to climb onto his back. His grip was firm, steady.

"You should let me do this more often," he mused as he carried you home effortlessly. "You're light."

You rolled your eyes but didn't argue.

—

Dinner was simple, but it was enough. You sat across from Caelus, watching him idly poke at his food before curiosity got the better of you.

"So," you started, "what exactly is your ability? You must have something, right?"

Caelus hummed, as if considering your question. Then, instead of answering directly, he smirked.

"Call my name three times."

You raised a brow. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "Just try it."

You sighed but decided to humor him.

"Caelus."

Nothing happened.

"Caelus."

Still nothing.

"...Caelus."

The moment his name left your lips for the third time, something shifted. A faint glow surrounded him, and in the air before you, a translucent status board materialized out of thin air.

Your eyes widened as you read the information displayed:

[Caelus] Title: ??? Abilities: ??? Affiliation: ??? Danger Level: ???

It was as if the system itself refused to reveal what he truly was.

He grinned. "Satisfied?"

You side-eyed Caelus, not even bothering to hide your suspicion. “Seriously? Everything is just question marks?”

He blinked at the screen, tilting his head. “Huh. That’s strange.”

Strange? That was an understatement. It was as if he wasn’t even registered as a normal existence.

Before you could question it further, Caelus suddenly reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. A soft, tingling sensation spread through you, and the moment his skin made contact—

The board changed.

A single ability appeared on the list:

[Devour] – Absorbs properties of consumed materials, adapting them for personal use.

“Devour?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Caelus, still smiling, traced the word on the screen with his fingers, as if testing it. “Looks like you helped reveal one of my abilities.”

The next morning, you woke up to an unsettling sound—something crunching.

You groggily pushed yourself up and followed the noise to the living room, only to find Caelus sitting on the floor, surrounded by various objects. A candle, a metal spoon, a scrap of cloth, and… was that part of your wooden chair?!

“What the hell are you doing?” you demanded.

Caelus glanced up, chewing on something. Then, as if nothing was wrong, he swallowed.

“Experimenting” he said simply.

Your eye twitched. “Experimenting with what?”

He held up a hand, and before your eyes, his fingers darkened into the same texture as the wood. With a slight flex, the transformation vanished.

You exhaled slowly. “So… Devour lets you copy whatever you eat.”

He grinned. “Pretty much.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. You weren’t dealing with this today. “Look, just stay home. I have work.”

You turned to leave, but before you could take a step, a sudden tug at your hem stopped you.

“Are you abandoning me?”

“…It’s not abandoning. I just don’t think you need to follow me everywhere.”

He didn’t let go.

“…I don’t like being alone,” he said. “And I don’t like being away from you.”

You really thought you could get through a normal workday, but no—of course not. Not with Caelus around.

Despite your initial reluctance, you ended up bringing him along again. You figured he’d just hover around like yesterday, but the moment you got busy checking on adventurers, you caught him doing something… odd.

He was touching people.

At first, you thought it was just casual—light brushes against arms, fingers ghosting over shoulders. But then you noticed the way he did it.

“Caelus,” you hissed, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

He blinked at you innocently. “Trying something.”

“Trying what?”

Before he could answer, a faint glow flickered over his hand. Then—

[Energy Drain] – Absorbs a portion of an individual’s energy, temporarily enhancing physical strength.

Another ability. And this time, it wasn’t from consuming objects—it was from people.

Caelus stared at his own hands, flexing his fingers as if feeling the new power coursing through him. Then, he turned his gaze to the adventurers around him.

“…They have energy,” he murmured. “Different from objects. It’s… warm.”

There was something almost fascinated in his tone, but you didn’t like where this was going. A slow, creeping realization settled in. You were the one he touched the most. The one closest to him. The one always within reach.

---

The next morning, you had a really bad feeling.

Caelus had been eerily quiet at breakfast—not his usual smug or teasing self. His golden eyes gleamed with something… unreadable. You should’ve questioned it more, but work had you swamped. The moment you turned your back to start preparing for the wave of adventurers today—

He was gone.

You frantically looked around, but there were too many people to check on, too many responsibilities to drop everything and go after him.

By the time evening rolled around, you were exhausted, anxious, and ready to scold him into oblivion.

And then—he reappeared.

Except… he looked different.

His clothes were slightly tattered, but there wasn’t a single scratch on him. His golden eyes practically glowed in the dim light, and there was a strange air about him—powerful, unshaken, like he had faced something dangerous and walked away stronger.

“…Where the hell did you go?” you demanded, crossing your arms.

Caelus smiled, unbothered. “The dungeon.”

You stared at him, barely processing his words. “You what?”

“I wanted to see what I could do,” he said, stretching his arms as if he’d just gone for a casual stroll. “It was fun.”

Fun?! He went into a dungeon alone and came back stronger like it was a damn field trip?!

---

Caelus was finally asleep.

It had taken longer than you expected—he had been watching you all evening, his golden eyes filled with something unreadable. But eventually, exhaustion (or maybe boredom) won, and he drifted off.

Which meant it was your chance.

Carefully, you activated his status board again. The last time, it had only shown question marks, but after his little trip to the dungeon, you were sure something had changed.

And you were right.

[Caelus] Title: ??? Abilities:

[Devour] – Absorbs properties of consumed materials, adapting them for personal use.

[Energy Drain] – Absorbs a portion of an individual’s energy, temporarily enhancing physical strength.

[???] – Locked.

Your eyes narrowed. Another hidden ability. But before you could inspect further, something unexpected happened.

Caelus moved.

You barely had time to react before he pulled you into his arms, caging you against his chest. His grip was firm, but his breathing was deep and steady—he was still asleep.

Your face heated, but you didn’t move. Not because it was comfortable (though you’d never admit it), but because the moment he touched you, the status board flickered—revealing more.

You carefully scrolled through the board, noticing a strange locked section labeled [Restricted Access]. A prompt appeared beneath it:

Enter Password.

A password?

You glanced at Caelus, then back at the screen. Would he—?

It was a long shot, but you had to try. You leaned in slightly, whispering, “Caelus… what’s the password?”

For a moment, there was nothing. Then—

“…Y/N” he murmured sleepily, tightening his hold around you.

That’s the password?

Hesitating, you entered your name.

[Access Granted.]

The locked section flickered, partially revealing something new:

[Eclipse] – ??? (Partially Unlocked)

Eclipse? What was that? And why did he use your name as the key?

---

Morning started with something familiar—the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor. You sat up immediately, already dreading what you were about to see.

Sure enough, there was Caelus, standing proudly in your living room with yet another trash can. The lid was missing, and a few questionable items had already spilled onto the floor.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Caelus.”

He turned to you with a bright, almost innocent smile. “Good morning!”

“What is wrong with you?”

“This is how I show love” he said, dead serious.

“You’re cleaning this up.”

“But—”

“Or I’m leaving.”

Instant obedience. It was almost scary how well that worked.

—

Since today was your day off, you figured you could finally get something done—like buying Caelus some proper clothes. The ones he had been wearing were barely holding together, thanks to his little dungeon adventure.

After making him take a bath (which he thankfully didn’t joke about this time), you dragged him out to go shopping. He was surprisingly silly about it, trying on ridiculous outfits and showing off like a child.

At one point, he even put on an oversized coat, flipping the collar up dramatically. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re about to scam someone.”

He looked way too pleased with that.

Just when you thought the day would be peaceful, an urgent call came in.

A new type of monster had appeared near the outskirts of the city, and several adventurers had been injured. Without hesitation, you and Caelus rushed to the scene.

The moment you arrived, you could tell it was bad. Blood stained the dirt, and a few adventurers were barely conscious. You knelt beside one of them, channeling your healing abilities.

Slowly, his breathing steadied. His eyes flickered open, unfocused but frantic.

“The monster…” he rasped. “It’s… not normal… it—”

Before he could finish, he passed out again.

The rest of the injured were left for others to handle, but one thing was clear—something was lurking out there.

You turned toward the deeper part of the scene, ready to investigate, but before you could take a step, Caelus blocked you.

“You’re not going in alone” he said firmly.

You frowned. “I wasn’t planning to, but—”

“I’ll go in with you.”

Somehow, you knew that even if you told him no, he wouldn’t listen.

The deeper you ventured into the site, the more unsettling it became. The air felt off—like something unseen was watching, waiting.

And then you found it.

A corpse. No—what was left of one.

The adventurer’s body was drained, his veins darkened like something had been siphoning his energy. It reminded you of Caelus’s Energy Drain ability, but this was far more violent, far more incomplete.

Before you could examine further, a low growl echoed through the ruins. Something lunged at you. You barely had time to react before a black, sinewy creature was inches from your face. Its glowing red eyes fixated only on you.

Crack!

The creature was slammed into the ground before it could even touch you. Caelus stood over it. His fingers twitched, absorbing something from the monster through direct contact.

For the first time, you saw his ability in action, its body shriveled, its energy stolen. In mere moments, it was lifeless.

“…It tried to take from you” Caelus muttered. He crouched beside the remains. “I don’t like that.”

You managed to take a small sample of the monster’s remains for further examination before both of you returned home, completely exhausted.

That night, you tucked Caelus into bed first, making sure he got some rest after everything that happened.

You barely made it to your own bed before exhaustion finally took over.

But in the middle of the night, Caelus woke up.

His golden eyes flickered open, immediately honing in on you. And more specifically—the faint, glowing mark on your skin. The monster from earlier had left something on you. His fingers brushed over the mark, sensing the energy shift.

“…Unacceptable”

Without hesitation, he took it.

Absorbing the remnants, erasing its trace—claiming what was his again.

Satisfied, Caelus shifted, slipping under the blankets next to you. He draped an arm over your waist, pulling you close, his body naturally molding to yours.

--

You woke up to warmth.

It took a moment to register, but then you felt it—Caelus’s arm still draped around you, his breath steady against your shoulder.

He had crawled into your bed.

You exhaled, carefully shifting out of his hold. He didn’t stir. Taking the opportunity, you silently activated his status board, eyes scanning for any changes.

[Caelus] Title: ??? Abilities:

[Devour] – Absorbs properties of consumed materials, adapting them for personal use.

[Energy Drain] – Absorbs a portion of an individual’s energy, temporarily enhancing physical strength.

[Eclipse] – Partially Unlocked

[Corruption Absorption] – Can absorb and nullify foreign energy marks left by external sources.

Corruption Absorption?

Before you could process further, a groggy voice broke the silence.

“…You should’ve asked me first.”

You nearly jumped as Caelus blinked sleepily at you, golden eyes half-lidded but aware.

You sighed. “Fine. Caelus, can I check your status board?”

His lips curled into a smirk. “No.”

“…You just said I should ask first.”

“And I gave you my answer.”

You stared at him, deadpan. He was clearly enjoying this.

Crossing your arms, you decided to switch tactics. “Then… do I have a status board?”

Caelus tilted his head. “You?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I mean, I am technically your owner, right? If you came from that egg, maybe I have access to something similar.”

He hummed, considering. Then he shrugged. “Unlikely.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because you’re the owner,” he explained lazily. “The thing that spawns from the egg rarely gets access to their owner’s status. Unless…” He trailed off, eyes glinting.

“Unless what?”

His smirk widened slightly.

“Unless that individual is much stronger than their owner.”

You weren’t sure what surprised you more—the fact that you did have a status board, or the implication that he wasn’t supposed to see it.

Which meant that if Caelus ever did get access to yours…

He would be stronger than you.

You crossed your arms, staring him down. "You do have access to my status board, don’t you?"

Caelus, still lounging in your bed like he owned it, blinked at you. “I don’t.”

"You do."

"I don’t."

"You do."

"I don’t."

The exchange repeated until you got tired of it. Sighing, you finally let it go, rubbing your temple. "Fine. Whatever. Not like it matters."

Caelus tilted his head, watching you with amusement. Then, surprisingly, he spoke—his tone unusually soft.

"I like things as they are now."

You glanced at him.

"As long as you’re not cheating on me, abandoning me, or doing anything that would make me have to pry," he continued, smirking slightly, "then I don’t need to look."

You stared at him for a moment before laughing. "Cheating? Abandoning you? That makes it sound like we’re—"

Jokingly, without much thought, you mused "Maybe we should just stay like this forever."

For a split second, Caelus was silent.

Then, just as fast, the usual mischief returned. He grinned, propping himself up on one elbow. "Oh? So you want me around forever?"

You rolled your eyes. "You’re reading too much into it."

He snickered, shifting closer. "No take-backs. You already said it."

You playfully shoved his shoulder, and for a moment, everything felt lighthearted again.

But then—

Somehow—somehow—words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them.

"Maybe I should just mark you as mine, then."

You meant it as a joke. Obviously.

But Caelus?

To your absolute horror, his hands grabbed yours, and he looked at you with an almost pleading expression—though exaggerated for dramatic effect.

"Please," he said, clasping your hands tightly. "Do it."

"...Huh?"

"Mark me," he insisted, leaning in. "Make sure everyone knows. I’d wear it proudly."

You stared at him. "Caelus, it was a joke."

"Not for me."

You groaned, trying to pull your hands away, but he wouldn’t let go. Instead, he nuzzled against them like some overly affectionate pet.

"Caelus—"

"Make it a real thing!"

At this point, you weren’t even annoyed anymore. Just… resigned. Maybe even entertained.

With a sigh, you let him hold onto you for a bit longer before finally flicking his forehead.

"We’re staying normal, alright?"

Caelus pouted dramatically but ultimately let go. "Fine… but one day—"

"No."

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ teddy’s notes: kinda bridget jones’s diary coded/inspired bc its one of my fav romcoms, watched it solely bc of colin firth when i was 15 and i think nanami kinda reminds me of him soooo, also reader is awkward and bridget inspired obvi

new year’s resolutions were stupid. you knew this. they were a yearly tradition of setting unrealistic goals and then abandoning them by february. and yet, here you were, writing them down anyway.

1. stop embarrassing self in front of nanami kento.

2. get life together (financially, emotionally, spiritually, etc.).

3. no more hopeless pining over emotionally unavailable men (see: nanami kento).

you tapped your pen against your notebook, frowning.

this was going to be a disaster.

nanami had been a problem for you for far too long. serious, disciplined, devastatingly handsome—he made suits look unfairly good, and his deadpan sarcasm made your brain short-circuit. worse, he was kind to you. not in a flirty, obvious way, but in that nanami way—remembering how you took your coffee, covering you with his jacket when you fell asleep on a mission, standing between you and danger without a second thought.

but that was just who he was.

and you? you were… not like him. your life was a mess. you were the kind of person who accidentally sent texts to the wrong people, spilled coffee on important documents, and tripped over nothing. a disaster, really.

so, resolution #1. stop embarrassing yourself in front of him.

simple enough.

except it was not simple, because ten minutes later, you were at gojo’s new year’s party, wine glass in hand, already halfway to ruining your life.

“looking serious as always, nanamin.” gojo slung an arm around nanami’s shoulders, grinning like the menace he was. “you here to celebrate, or did someone trick you into coming?”

“i was invited,” nanami replied, sipping his drink. “and unlike some people, i have manners.”

you watched from across the room, pretending not to stare. he looked unfairly good in that suit—tie loosened just enough, hair slightly tousled. new year’s was supposed to be a time of fresh starts, and yet here you were, still hopelessly into him.

“you’re staring,” shoko murmured beside you.

“i’m not—”

“you are,” she said, smirking. “just go talk to him.”

“no. absolutely not.” you took a sip of wine. “besides, he doesn’t think of me that way.”

shoko gave you a look. “right. sure. keep telling yourself that.”

before you could argue, gojo’s voice rang out.

“alright, everyone, five minutes to midnight!”

the room buzzed with excitement, couples moving closer, people laughing as they grabbed champagne. you swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that at midnight, there would be a moment—the kind of moment where people kissed, or at the very least, awkwardly looked around for someone to kiss.

you, of course, had no such luck.

instead, you found yourself standing near nanami, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to act normal.

he glanced down at you. “enjoying yourself?”

“oh, yeah. love parties. love new year’s. nothing like a fresh start.” you gestured vaguely, then immediately regretted it because you nearly sloshed your drink onto his sleeve.

nanami raised a brow. “right.”

you cleared your throat. “what about you? any resolutions?”

he was quiet for a moment, then said, “just one.”

before you could ask what, gojo started counting down.

“ten! nine! eight—”

the room filled with excitement, voices overlapping, people turning to their partners. you, meanwhile, were frozen in place, heart hammering.

seven! six! five—

nanami was still watching you, expression unreadable.

four! three—

you opened your mouth, about to say something, anything—

two! one!

the room erupted into cheers, and before you could process it, nanami was leaning in, his hand brushing your waist.

oh.

your breath caught, and then—softly, gently—he kissed you.

it wasn’t dramatic. it wasn’t some grand, cinematic moment. it was just him, warm and steady, like he had been waiting for the right time.

when he pulled back, you stared at him, dazed.

“happy new year,” he murmured.

you blinked. “oh. uh. yeah. happy new year.”

nanami huffed a quiet laugh, then—so casually it nearly knocked you off your feet—brushed a thumb over your cheek before stepping away.

you stood there, absolutely wrecked, as gojo whistled somewhere in the background.

shoko sidled up beside you, smirking. “so. about him not thinking of you that way…”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. resolution #1 was already a failure.

but honestly? maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

[tamatama-kilo]

i've ALWAYS been a huge undertale fan and a chara supporter since day one, so it's wonderful to see them represented in such a realistic way!!

of course, chara wasn't pure and innocent by any means, at least in my book. while i don't remember for sure if canonically it's mentioned how much chara hates humans (i believe it is but i could be wrong), it is a very common headcanon for many of us to see chara as a child of abuse due to their deep hatred of humanity.

i think some could argue that chara just hated people because they could or they're a brat child or something like that, and while that is an opinion someone could have, i think canon interactions of them and the way toby writes characters makes that unlikely.

chara is a hurt and traumatized child that very likely only knew the dirtier parts of humanity, and something that's always captivated me is that chara was able to see the humanity in people that weren't... well human!

i remember when people loved the idea of evil chara, and i will admit as a child who grew up on the internet, i also did! the art was very cool so i couldn't say no to that.

while i do still think the idea is cool and if i see art or interpretations of a more evil version of chara, i'll probably like it, i think showing nuance in children or younger characters especially is very intriguing and more thought provoking than if they were just pure of heart or pure evil.

tldr; i love chara sooooo much and nuance is silly

I loved the underground (cont. below)

❤️

[justauthoring]

This is the Beginning [4/?]

Summary: You never thought you'd be able to escape Buggy, and yet, a boy with a straw hat, a man with three swords and a girl with orange hair somehow manage to free you. The journey that follows afterwards is your chance at freedom and maybe something more.

A One Piece Live Action Rewrite

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Pairing: Live Action!Zoro Roronoa x F!Reader

TW for this chapter: canon typical violence, bits of jealous!zoro, that's really all!

Word Count: 9,323

A/N: Well, we made it! We caught up to seaon one of OPLA! Unfortunately, that means this series will be taking a hiatus until the new season comes out since it is a rewrite. But! I might do little bonus chapters and bonding moments!!

I have started watching the anime, so I know the general direction the live action will probably follow. If you guys would like bonus chapters, let me know!

Tag List: @emmaiscool22 - @bethleeham - @veryunoriginal - @sun-rae04 - @medievalfangirl - @sylum - @academiq

Chapter Four - This is It

“Y/N! My old friend!”

Before you can even register the fact that Buggy is talking to you, a body steps in front of you, fully blocking you from view. The expanse of Zoro’s broad shoulders is the only thing you can see as he glares down at Buggy; “don’t talk to her.”

Buggy just laughs, loud and mocking. “Yeah?” He taunts, “and what are you going to do about it? Bleed on me?”

You can see the tension build in Zoro, muscles tensing and his shoulders raising with every word Buggy throws at him.

You don’t blame him. You still remember when Luffy had all but dropped the fact that during their fight with Arlong and Nami’s betrayal, they’d reunited with Buggy, or rather the head of Buggy. It was made ten times worse when Luffy also elected to inform you that Buggy was coming with you all and helping you to Arlong’s island, as part of a deal he’d made with the pirate. He told you the two of them had made it in return for his navigation to the island, he’d get his body back.

And even though Luffy had assured you he wouldn’t let Buggy try and pull anything on you, you still felt uneasy about him being onboard.

You had no doubt that Buggy’s intentions were not as pure as he was making them out to be. He had something up his sleeve, or at the very least, he would betray you all. At one point or another.

Still, it didn’t matter because you were stuck for him for now. It wasn’t up to just you and you did need him, at least to find where Arlong and Nami had gone. And after spending the first day refusing to go up onto deck in fear of having to face Buggy, your once captain and long-time tormentor, you were sick of hiding away. You’d decided to go up on deck, especially after Zoro had shown concern with you hiding away. Buggy only had his head, after all, so despite saying whatever he wanted, he couldn’t do much.

You try to remind yourself of that.

Your attempt at not being seen, however, had failed the second you’d made your way up to the deck as Buggy had clocked your arrival instantly.

Ignoring the racing of your heart, you reach forward, setting your hand on Zoro’s arm. He pauses at the touch, looking as if he was ready to just kill Buggy and be done with it. He turns his head around to glance down at you, and you send him a reassuring smile.

You remind yourself that you were with a crew of people who cared about you deeply and no one was going to let Buggy hurt you in any way. Not to mention, you’d grown yourself. You weren’t the same girl Buggy had spent years tormenting; you could stand up for yourself now, especially if you had your friends by your side.

He looks like he wants to argue, but still, Zoro doesn’t fight you when you step out from behind him, turning your eye on Buggy.

“I’m not your friend, Buggy. And I never was,” you say, voice firm in your defiance. “And don’t think that I don’t know all your tricks. If you even try to betray us, I’ll—”

“You’ll do nothing!” Buggy laughs, loud and piercing. “Just like you never did back on my crew! You always were too helpless for your own good. All it took was that cage and—”

It doesn’t take you much to figure out what he was implying with his words and it leaves an unpleasant taste in your mouth, thinking back to that horrible cage. However, he doesn’t get the chance to finish.

Zoro is crossing the distance over to Buggy in seconds. Usopp, who’d been standing at the helm, steering with Buggy’s degrading instructions, looks all too pleased as Zoro grabs Buggy by the top of his head, lifting him off the barrel he’d been set on. You, however, look concerned, wanting nothing more than Zoro to actually just get rid of Buggy but you knew you needed him to get to Nami.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Wait!” Buggy pleads almost instantly, words coming out in a rushed panic. “I was just joking!” He tries to excuse himself, and your eyes widen as Zoro moves him so he’s hanging over the edge of the ship. Buggy’s voice rises in terror. “I was joking! Y/N knows I was joking! Don’t you, Y/N—”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Zoro cuts in, voice sharp. “You don’t talk to Y/N.”

Biting your lip, you stare at Zoro’s back. You knew, obviously after the conversation the two of you had had, that Zoro cared about you but seeing him so openly defend you made your heart flutter in ways you didn’t know it could.

“You don’t look at her. Or bother her in any way. Is that clear?”

“Yes, yes,” Buggy rushes, voice a blur of desperation. “I won’t bother Y/N!”

“And if this is just another one of your tricks… or you leading us into a trap. Then…”

“Zoro, buddy!” Buggy laughs, “honour amongst pirates. Right? Come on. How about I sing a nice sea shanty to pass the time.”

Sighing, you press your hand to your forehead.

“Oh, there once was a girl with tangerine hair…”

Buggy continues, but a shared look back at you and Usopp makes Zoro’s decision for him easy. Turning around, he makes his way back up to the helm, where Usopp waits with the lid of a barrel topped off.

Zoro doesn’t hesitate to drop Buggy right inside.

“Ow! God, right on my nose!” 

Whatever else he’d been about to say is muffled as Usopp quickly places the top of the barrel back on.

Usopp turns back to you. “I hate clowns.”

Huffing a laugh, you nod your head, instantly eased at his silence. “Me too.”

Making his way back over to you, Zoro dusts off his hands, as if disgusted that Buggy had even been anywhere near him. You glance past him, making sure Usopp wasn’t paying attention anymore, before you reach for Zoro, smiling up at him.

“Thank you for defending me,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Zoro smirks, confident by your praise, but you see the soft flush to his cheeks. “It was a long time coming,” he shrugs, “I hate that clown.” He pauses, briefly, as if unsure of his own words. “Especially for how he treated you.”

The words, despite what they mean, pull a smile to your lips. Your grip on him tightens, and you lean into his embrace. Slowly, Zoro’s arm comes to rest around your shoulders, and you’re reminded of how new all of this still is. The two of you had only confessed your feelings a little bit ago and the two of you were still trying to maneuver those changes; especially since everything else was also still new. 

It was hard to believe it had only been a few short weeks since Luffy, Zoro and Nami saved you from Buggy and you joined them on their adventure. Finding Usopp, fighting Kuro and the Black Cat crew, then arriving at the Baratie, Nami’s betrayal and Sanji joining you… so much had happened in such a short amount of time. A part of you wondered if Zoro and you had moved too quickly into something beyond just a friendship, but then you feel the bandages across his chest on the skin of your cheek and you remember how close he’d been to dying.

Even if most would consider it quick, you didn’t want to waste a moment when you could lose him or he could lose you at any time.

Besides, he and the rest of the crew were stuck with you now. There would be plenty of time to work out the kinks.

“It’s okay,” you reassure Zoro. “I won’t lie and say what Buggy had done to me still doesn’t… haunt me. But, I’m not as scared as I thought I’d be when Luffy said he made a deal with him. Especially because now I have you guys. Because I have you.”

Zoro shifts and you pull back, giving him the room to lean back so he can meet your eye properly. A man of action as always, he raises his left hand, brushing back your hair to cup your cheek and presses a gentle kiss against your lips. It’s quick, the touch of his lips hovering for what feels like far too short, before he’s pulling back, smiling at you.

“I should talk to Luffy.” He says a moment later, “figure out our plan for when we find Nami and Arlong.”

You nod, finally letting your hands fall to your sides as you watch him walk away, sending one last warm look back at you. Your heart is still fluttering, even as he gets further and further away, feeling hot and weak at the same time.

“Someone’s down bad.”

Blinking, you turn around, finding Usopp staring down at you with the widest shit-eating grin on his lips.

Cheeks warming, you shake yourself out of your stupor, making your way up the stairs over to him. “Ha-ha,” you huff, but the smile on your lips is fond. 

Usopp just giggles. “Seriously,” he teases, “the two of you barely notice the people around you when you’re together.”

Coming to a stop next to him, you lightly nudge him with your shoulder. “Haven’t you teased me enough?” You whine, pouting, as your eyes glimmer with mischief at him. “The second Luffy told you what he saw, you haven’t let me off the hook.”

“It’s too fun,” Usopp shrugs, turning his gaze ahead to continue steering the ship. “You always get so embarrassed.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise a brow. “I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you, Usopp.”

“Oh?” He challenges, “and why’s that?”

“Because you forget I saw you and Kaya,” you smirk, watching as the smile on his lips falls and is replaced by a bright red across his cheeks. “If you want to talk about two people smitten…—”

“Okay, okay! I won’t tease you anymore!”

You turn to Usopp, his face turning bright red as he wildly shakes his hands in front of him. It pulls a laugh from your lips, loud and warm, enough to pull Usopp from his own reverie as he blinks back at you.

Turning your gaze back ahead, you soften your smile; “I’m happy for you, Usopp. And I know you’ll see her one day again.”

Shoulders easing, Usopp grabs hold of the helm again and grins to himself. “Thanks,” he says earnestly, “and I’m happy for you too. You and Zoro.”

You squeeze his arm in return, smile infectious, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with one another for a few minutes.

Then, you catch sight of something ahead. 

“Usopp,” you call, shaking his own arm before pointing ahead of yourself. “Look!”

He leans forward, eyes squinting. “I don’t see anything,” he mumbles, confused.

You frown; “you don’t see the island up ahead?”

“How do you…” Usopp frowns, but his voice trails, squinting even more before he pulls back in realization. “Wait. I see it!” 

Instantly, he cups his hands around his mouth, breathing in sharply so yell out to the three at the front of the ship; “land ho!”

-

Walking behind Zoro, you frown at the sight of the village in front of you. In a lot of ways, it uncomfortably reminds you of the village Buggy had destroyed; the one Luffy had saved.

It’s desolate. Any sign of happiness that probably flooded these homes is gone, without a trace of it ever exiting. It makes your chest tight and your heart sinks.

You slow to a stop when you notice the rest of your crew doing the same, turning to the left and your lips part when you see what’s caught their attention.

“This is terrible,” you breathe, pressing a hand to your lips as you stare back at the flipped upside down house.

Zoro eyes you, before turning to the house; “never seen that before.”

“What could have done this?” Sanji asks, brows furrowed in bafflement.

Usopp hovers next to you, shuffling on his feet. “Maybe I should head back… make sure the Merry’s secure.”

Without hesitation, you reach for Usopp, squeezing his arm. He turns to you, the fear in his gaze apparent.

But before you can say anything to reassure him, Luffy speaks up;

“Arlong did this.”

His voice is unusually low, tinged with rage. You stare back at him with surprise.

“Hey, shit-hat!” Buggy calls, voice muffled through the bag Sanji is currently carrying him in. “I think we can all agree that Arlong’s a bad fish. But why don’t we quit lollygagging and get my body back?”

You scoff, “as if we should hurry for your sake.” Letting your gaze drag across the village once more, you frown. “This is no different than anything you’ve done before. Same innocent people being hurt, just different pirates.”

Sanji’s eyes fall on you, and you figure it’s because he’s the only one on the crew that doesn’t know how Luffy had found you. Sure, Usopp hadn’t been there, but he’d heard bits and pieces of it and probably was able to piece it all together. Sanji, who’d just joined, wouldn’t know. All he knew was you’d once been on Buggy’s crew.

You avoid his gaze. 

“Come on, Y/N! I certainly wasn’t as bad as—”

“Pipe down in there!” Sanji cuts him off, for your sake more than anyone else's. 

“Or what?” Buggy huffs. “You gonna whip me up a souffle?”

Dropping the bag, Sanji sighs, gesturing to Usopp. “How about you take him for a while?”

“Ooh,” Usopp breathes, shaking his head. “New guy carries the clown head.”

Feeling bad for the guy, you step forward, reaching for the bag. “Here, Sanji, I can—”

“Absolutely not—”

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’ve got it—”

Both Zoro and Sanji speak at the same time, and almost instantly, the two turn to each other with glares.

“Y/N is not carrying that clown head,” Zoro growls, shifting beside you.

“I agree,” Sanji bites out, shouldering the bag again before turning to you with a smile. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I got it under control.”

You hesitate, frowning, but seeing the smile on his lips and the way Zoro continues to glare at the cook, you decide to let it go. “Okay,” you shrug, “if you’re sure.”

The five of you continue to make your way, picking up the pace in your step when you see a group of people up ahead.

“Everyone! Please!”

The man speaking stands at the front of the crowd, holding a box. His expression is grim.

“We don’t have much time,” he continues. “And we’re short again this month.”

You frown when you watch a man step up, dumping a handful of Berry into the box.

That sinking feeling floods your stomach again.

“Is it enough?”

With a frown, the man at the front shakes his head slowly.

“Do we have time to get some more?”

“No.”

Your back straightens, recognizing that voice.

Sure enough, the crowd splits instantly, and you see Nami step through.

“You don’t,” she says, slowly making her way through the crowd.

Luffy steps forward, as if to go to her. Zoro stops him.

A woman with blue hairs steps right up to Nami, face twisted with rage. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face here.” Nami doesn’t say anything in return, even when the woman spits right at her feet.

She walks off a second later, your eyes follow her. 

A moment of silence passes, then, Nami turns her attention back to the man with the donation box. “Got something for me?”

Slowly, he hands over the box.

It takes Nami one look; “you’re short.”

“Nami, please,” the man begs. “This is all we have. Arlong has bled us dry.”

“Then find more blood.”

Swallowing thickly, the sight breaks your heart. There was no way Nami could actually be this… heartless, right?

The man walks off as does the rest of the crowd. Nami, with the donation box still in hand, lets her gaze wander, freezing the second she catches sight of the five of you.

She makes her way over in seconds flat.

“Luffy?” She calls, voice sharp. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same thing.”

“This is where I belong.”

Luffy shakes his head, “I don’t believe that. This is not you.”

“No,” she argues. “This isn’t the me you want me to be.”

“Nami…” Luffy calls, voice soft. He steps towards her. “If you need our help—”

“No, I don’t need any of you.”

You flinch at that, watching as her eyes dance across the five of you. When her eyes meet yours, she’s quick to look away.

“Arlong wanted the map,” she explains, “and I conned you into getting it for me. And you bought it. I was never part of your stupid crew.”

“You don’t mean that.”

For the splittest of seconds, Nami’s face wavers. You see it, watch it happen, but it’s gone before you can do anything about it. It feels like you’re the only one who does see it.

“Take the rest of these clowns and sail away from here,” she spits. “I never want to see you again.”

She spins around, moving to walk off. You instinctively move to walk after her, knowing what you saw and not ready to give up, but Zoro grabs your hand, tightening his grip. Turning to him, his expression is sympathetic for you but firm; she won’t listen.

Usopp huffs behind you; “okay, that went about as bad as it could. So back to the boat before the fishmen find us? Sail the hell out of here? Okay.” 

Sanji shakes his head; “there’s something else going on here.”

“I think she was very clear she wants us to leave,” Zoro argues.

“You don’t know women,” Sanji instantly rebuts, “they never say what they mean.”

You blink, “well, I—”

“Tell me again why the cook gets a say.” Zoro huffs, turning to face Sanji.

“Don’t you guys get it,” Usopp cuts in, and you watch as the three of them circle around each other, bickering. All while Luffy remains standing where Nami left him. “She’s one of them. She’s a bad guy. The villagers are terrified of her.”

Raising your voice, you step forward and interrupt them before any of them can speak. “The look on her face was off,” you explain, remembering exactly what you’d seen. Turning to Zoro, you look back at him determined. “I know what she said, Zoro, but she looked like she was this close to breaking down. Sanji is right, there is something more going on here. I’m sure of it.”

Zoro, who looks put out that you’re siding with Sanji, steps towards you. “Y/N, I know that you don’t want it to be true but Nami…” He hesitates, seeing the look on your face. “Usopp is right. The villagers were scared. Of her.”

Face falling, you can’t deny that.

“Not all of them,” Luffy says, speaking up for the first time. You turn around to face him, but he steps forward before you can ask what he meant. “Hey! Scar guy.”

Only chancing one more glance back at Zoro, you quickly follow after Luffy.

“Who was that girl?” Luffy asks the man who’d been collecting the donations. “You know, the one with the cool hair?”

The man eyes you five. “Who wants to know?”

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy,” Luffy introduces, voice serious. “I’m a pirate—”

“—Hunter,” Zoro cuts in quickly. Hands shoved into his pockets, he steps up beside Luffy. “Pirate hunter. We’re here to collect Arlong’s bounty.”

Sensing the apprehension on the man’s face, you think that was definitely a smart save on Zoro’s part.

The man just raises a brow. “You? I’ve seen men twice your size and with twice your number go into Arlong Park. None of them ever came back.”

Luffy smiles. “We just want to talk to her.”

“Trust me,” the man argues, “you don’t. But if it’ll get you out of my town, try the house down that road, on the edge of the tangerine grove.”

-

“I don’t know how you do it.”

Jumping at the voice, you turn around, easing when you see it’s just Nojiko.

Turns out that girl with the cool hair, as Luffy had dubbed her, was Nami’s sister. After managing to convince her into talking to you with the promise of a home-cooked meal, Sanji had whipped her and the rest of you up a meal. It was only then Nojiko had agreed to tell you the story of how her and Nami’s mother had died because of Arlong, who’d taken control of this island eight years ago. And how Nami was now working for him.

The story had left the five of you all upset in your own ways. When Usopp had solidified the fact that Nami really was working for her mother’s killer, the air in the house had thickened with tension.

You’d stay for a while, but after Buggy had insisted on being let out of the bag to the point Sanji had been forced to do so, you’d taken your leave. Luffy, and then Zoro who had gone after him, had left the second Nojiko finished telling you everything and you hadn’t heard from them since. You figured it was best to give them space, so you’d chosen to wander through the tangerine grove right by Nojiko’s house.

When Nojiko had found you.

Meeting Nojiko’s eyes, you glance at her inquisitively.

“Deal with being stuck with four men,” she laughs lightly. “Especially on a ship. I’d go crazy.”

You smile back at her, snorting. “You get used to it.” Then, smile wavering just faintly, you can’t help but add; “it was easier, too. With… you know, Nami.” Hugging yourself, you glance at your feet. “It was nice having her onboard with us. Nice being her friend, if she ever thought of me as one.”

Nojiko doesn’t respond, probably not sure how to. Still, she offers a gentle and sympathetic smile in return. It’s clear she understands in her own way.

“Are you okay?” You ask, gesturing back to the house. “Sanji didn’t say anything, right? He’s a flirt and never means anything by it, but I’ll kick him for you if he makes you uncomfortable.”

Letting out a sharp laugh, Nojiko shakes her head. “He didn’t say anything,” she reassures with a wave of her hand. “I just needed some air. I was… I was actually planning on visiting her grave.”

Your lips part; “your mother’s?”

She nods.

You hesitate, glancing back at the far stretch of the tangerine grove and then back at Nojiko. You decide to just ask what’s on your mind. “Could I come with you?”

She seems shocked by our question, eyes widening and brows furrowing. 

“Only if you don’t mind,” you assure, shaking your hands at her. “I just… Just thought maybe you’d like a friend. And, well… I know what it’s like to lose a mother.”

Face easing, Nojiko frowns; “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “It was a long time ago.”

Nodding slowly, Nojiko shrugs; “you can come then. And we can send a prayer to both of our mothers.”

Your smile brightens at that, worrying easing from your body as you nod at her. She returns the smile with ease and the two of you begin walking, Nojiko leading the way. The grave isn't that far away, so it doesn’t take you long before Nojiko is informing you you’re close.

“Just around this…—”

But her voice trails as you both hear… grunting? She glances back at you, worried, and you mimic her expression, rushing forward. You worry it’s someone from Arlong’s crew, heart sinking at what they could possibly be doing.

Only, it’s Nami you find.

You hesitate, feet freezing, but blind with anger at the realization of what Nami was doing, Nojiko rushes forward. “How dare you,” she hisses out, barely able to contain the anger in her voice. “It’s not enough that you’re working for our mother’s killer, but now you’re desecrating her grave too?”

You notice at the same time Nami does, her calling out for Nojiko, as the latter grabs the shovel next to the digged hole, swinging it back behind her to hit Nami.

Racing forward, you grab the handle of the shovel before Nojiko can swing it down just as Nami flinches back with a scream.

Nami’s eyes zone in on you; “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”

Meeting her gaze, your lips part; “I…—”

“Never mind that,” Nojiko spits, and she lowers her hands when you step back, but doesn’t let go of the shovel, looking ready to try and hit Nami again. “I can’t believe you would do this!”

Nami only glances at you once more, hesitating, before turning back to Nojiko; “it’s not what you think.”

Nojiko goes to swing the shovel again, and you move to grab her, but don’t reach in time. 

“You have no idea what I think!”

Nami’s name leaves your lips in a shrill cry and she just narrowly misses the edge of the shovel smacking her across the face, falling back. Instead of Nami, Nojiko hits the chest right next to the hole.

Bills and coins of Berry come pouring out of it.

Panting, Nojiko shakes her head; “what’s this?” She slowly turns to Nami. “Is this the money that you stole? And you’re hiding it next to our mother’s body?”

Confused and bewildered and definitely feeling like you’re encroaching on a moment between sisters you shouldn’t be, you remain silent, taking a step back.

“Nami,” Nojiko whispers, “what kind of monster are you?”

“You don’t understand,” Nami cries.

“Then make me understand.”

Her eyes flicker between you and Nojiko, unsure, before she focuses all of her attention on Nojiko. 

“I’ve been stealing this money because of a deal with Arlong I made,” she starts, moving to crawl out of the hole and grab her bag. “I told Arlong I’d work for him on one condition. That he let me buy back Coco Village. And he said he would for a hundred million Berry.”

“A hundred million?” You echo, unable to stop yourself. “That would take a lifetime.”

Nami shakes her head, reaching for Nojiko. “I have the money,” she explains. “All of it. And now I can buy the freedom of the village and everyone in it.”

Seeing the look on Nojiko’s face, you inhale sharply, turning. It occurs to you should give them a moment alone. This news was shocking enough to you, you couldn’t imagine how Nojiko, who’s obviously hated Nami for the past eight years, would feel. Sending the two of them a gentle smile, you walk off, moving to the edge of the woods.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you think about what Nami had said.

That look you’d seen her eyes, the one only you had seemed to be able to notice, made so much more sense now. None of this had been of Nami’s own volition or choice. And for the past eight years she’d been forced to work for and do the bidding of a man who’d killed her mother and threatened her family and friends.

The thought made you sick. You couldn’t imagine what Nami’s been forced to endure.

Minutes pass of you stuck in your thoughts, until you catch something through the foliage of the forest. It gives you pause, head turning in the direction as you squint, trying to figure out what you’d seen.

When you catch sight of a familiar white and blue uniform, your heart drops.

“Nami, Nojiko!” You call, rushing over to them as you reach for Nami’s chest of Berry. Nami stands at the sight, the conversation between her and Nojiko cut short as she assumes the worst of what you’re doing.

“What are you—”

“We don’t have time,” you cut her off, staring at her with panic in your eye. “The Marines, they’re—”

“Already here.”

Lips left parted, you, Nami and Nojiko’s heads snap round, back in the direction you’d come from, bodies freezing at the sight of a line up of Marines stopping in front of you.

“A shame to interrupt such a touching moment,” the lieutenant Marine offers, voice not at all sympathetic. “I’ve heard that pirates are stashing their plunder in this area. You three wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?”

Feet frozen in place, you eye the back of Nami and Nojiko, before shifting your attention back to the lieutenant. This was bad. Very bad. There was no way to hide Nami’s stash, especially not when it was clear it was exactly what the Marines were already looking for.

“That’s obviously been stolen,” the Marine lieutenant comments, eyeing Nami’s money. “By the authority of the Marines and the World Government, I'm going to have to confiscate it.”

“No,” Nami gasps. “No, you can’t do that. It’s mine!”

“A hundred million Berry?” The lieutenant raises a brow, “and where would you get that much money?”

“Nami got that money fair and square,” you hiss, stepping forward as you glare at the man. “You have no right to take it from her.”

“No right?” The lieutenant laughs, loud and mocking. “I have the right as a Marine lieutenant, silly girl.”

“Wait,” Nami cuts in, breathless, before you can speak, as if having realized something. “How did you know it was a hundred…” But her voice trails, and a glance back at her tells you she’s figured it out.

“Arlong put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Your lips part, gasping. 

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” the lieutenant shrugs. Then, he shifts, nodding at the men behind him. They listen instantly. 

Nami and you both start. She reaches for her bag, trying to grab her weapon, but the Marines are too quick. Two of them flank her, grabbing her by the arm. You growl at the sight, stepping forward to help, but then the men that had been standing to the left of the lieutenant step towards you. 

“Watch yourself. Or we will take you into custody as well.”

Past their shoulders you can see the Marine officers holding Nami shove her to the ground. Rage floods you, and you move towards her, but you’re blocked by more officers. Instantly, they go to grab you, but you dodge their grasps, trying to slither past them. You make it past one, reaching for Nami and then a sharp sting radiates across your cheek.

You trip over your feet at the impact, stunned, falling to your knees as your hand hovers across your cheek in shock, staring up at the officer who’d punched you. He stares down at you, unbothered. His hand rests on his baton, as if baiting you to try again.

Nami, who’d watched the whole display, continues to thrash and fight the hands that hold her down.

“No!” She screams when she sees them grabbing her Berry. “You can’t do this. You can’t do this!”

Cheek stinging and eyes watering in despair, you watch the Marines grab her money all while Nami screams, helpless to do anything. They take it all, not leaving a single Berry behind, and not offering even a glance at Nami who cries out for them to stop.

When the officers let her go and walk off, Nami instantly moves to get back up. Nojiko, who’d seemed frozen in the spot until then, grabs her. “Wait, Nami,” she pleads. “Stop! Wait. Wait!”

“Let me go!” Nami cries, fighting her sister's grip. “Let me go! They can’t do this!”

“Nami,” you breathe, staring at her in shock.

“There’s nothing you can do!” Nojiko tries.

But Nami doesn’t listen to her.

“Arlong will kill the entire village!” She bellows, voice pitching in distress, finally breaking free from Nojiko’s grip and running off in the opposite direction of the Marine’s and instead towards the village.

“Nami, wait!” Nojiko begs, screaming after her.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you wipe your tears, grabbing Nojiko’s hand and pulling her eyes on you.

There’s only one thing that can help her now. Or rather, people.

“Nojiko. Nojiko, listen to me,” you pant, tugging on her hand. Her eyes fall on you, wild and terrified. “We need to get Luffy and the rest. They can help! I promise!”

Chest rising and falling and breathless, Nojiko inhales sharply, trying to calm herself.

“Okay.”

Never letting go of her hand, you pull her along, the two of you take off in the direction you’d first come from. Nojiko’s house is closer than the rest of the village, separated off, so it doesn’t take either of you very long to get back to their house and your friends. The two of you break through the tangerine grove, breathless and panicked, and Zoro and Luffy who had been up on the roof see you instantly.

“Y/N?” Zoro calls, concerned. Him and Luffy glance at each other briefly before quickly climbing down the roof. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Zoro’s voice must’ve caught the attention of Usopp and Sanji because they come running out of the house too,

“What’s going on?” Usopp asks.

“Y/N?” Sanji’s gaze instantly zones in on you, taking in your distressed state. “And Nojiko? Are you—”

Luffy and Zoro come to a stop in front of the both of you.

Nojiko, unable to catch her voice, shakes her head. “Nami, she’s…” But a cough wracks through her body, exhausted after everything from the Marine’s, trying to stop Nami and then running.

Zoro zones in on you then, catching sight of your face. “Y/N, your cheek,” he breathes, voice low as he reaches for you, cupping your jaw to pull your gaze up on him. His eyes flood with anger when he gets a better look at your red and stinging cheek. “Who did—”

Resting your hand over his, you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss, and cut him off quickly before he can argue. “We have to help Nami. Arlong… Arlong is going to destroy the village!”

“What?” Usopp squeaks, “he’s coming here?”

“Is it because the village was short on money?” Sanji frowns.

Meeting Nojiko’s eyes, you both frown. “Nami had a deal with Arlong,” you explain, shifting from Zoro to Luffy. His face is serious, and he listens to you carefully. “He betrayed her. The Marine’s stole her money and now Arlong is going to destroy the village. We have to help them. We have to help Nami!”

“Please,” Nojiko pleads beside you. “Please.”

Zoro steps towards you, and you turn to him, barely noticing the way your eyes are watering. He frowns down at you, before turning to Luffy.

“Nojiko, stay here. Y/N.” You turn back to him, breathing in. “Lead the way,” Luffy says, voice sharp. 

Meeting his eyes, you nod.

-

Walking past Luffy, you fall to your knees next to Nami.

She starts at the sight of you, teary-eyed and gasping, but you just smile gently at her. Shifting your bag, you pull out the bandages in there. You’d originally grabbed them for Zoro, but staring at her bleeding arm, you figure it was best her wounds were cleaned and wrapped.

“Here,” you say softly, slowly grabbing her arm. You hesitate, not wanting to startle her, but she doesn’t flinch away when you reach for her. Comforted at the action, you grab the cloth you’d also pulled out, wiping at the blood.

“I can clean it better later,” you explain, “but for now.”

She doesn’t respond, and you let her remain silent, incapable of understanding what she could possibly be going through in that moment.

The two of you sit in silence, away from the boys as they figure out how they’re going to go up against Arlong. Nami watches as you bandage her, and you do so without saying anything. Truthfully, you don’t know what you could say. Your heart broke for her and the villagers and every sting of betrayal you’d felt before is gone. 

Now, you only feel guilt for having ever doubted her.

“There,” you whisper, doing the last loop of the bandage. 

Nami glances down at her arm and she ponders it for a while, before;

“Thank you.”

Lips parting, your head snaps up, blinking. 

“Back there, with the Marines,” she points at your cheek. “You tried to stop them.”

“Oh,” you frown, “you don’t have to thank me. I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them then.”

Blinking back her tears, Nami’s face falls.

“Luffy will be able to stop Arlong, Nami,” you smile at her, taking a leap and squeezing her arm. She straightens at the touch, but her gaze is warm as she looks back at you. “We’ll help you. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

Her eyes fall shut, a single tear escaping her defences as she leans towards you.

“Thank you.”

-

“I can fight.”

“We’ve hardly done any training—”

“Zoro,” you huff, balling your hands into fists at your side. “I want to help.”

He eyes you, frowning. “I know you do, but Arlong’s men are strong.”

Mildly insulted, despite knowing he was right, and frustrated, you glare up at him. “I’m helping. You can’t stop me.”

Clearly frustrated himself, Zoro presses a hand to his face. “You don’t even have a weapon.”

“Nojiko gave me a gun,” you counter, grabbing the rifle from the wall you’d set it against, and holding it up to him to see. “She taught me the basics of how to use it. I probably won’t be as good of a shot as Usopp, but I can still try.”

Breathing in sharply, Zoro glances back at the crew, noticing the way they’re getting ready to go. Turning back to you, he steps towards you, cupping your cheeks. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Wrapping your hands around him in return, you smile, “I know. Because I don’t want you to get hurt too.” Squeezing his hands, you look up at him reassuringly. “I’ll stay back and not put myself in danger. But I want to help Nami. Don’t ask me to stay behind when she’s my friend too. That’s not what we promised each other.”

Sighing, Zoro knows you’re right. “You stay away from the thick of it,” he orders, voice serious. “And if you need my help, call for me. I’ll come to you right away.”

Biting your lip, you smile. “I promise,” you assure, nodding. “The second I’m in danger, I’ll call for you. Only you.”

Cheeks flushing, Zoro rolls his eyes. “As long as you promise.”

-

Despite losing sight of Usopp in the mess, you think you’re doing a fairly good job.

Obviously, Sanji and Zoro were taking down most of the men, but you can proudly say you’ve at least gotten a few really good shots. There was even the time you’d shot down a guy that had been gunning straight for Zoro, to which he’d smirked back at you in response.

The pride you’d felt was imminent. 

Just like how you’d been able to see the island before anyone else back on the boat, or how you’d seen the Marines coming through the thick forest foliage, your left eye was able to catch sight of Arlong’s man easily. And even though you were still rocky with the gun itself, your eye  helped you see things you’d never been able to before.

You’ve never seen things so clearly.

Taking one last shot at one of Arlong’s men and watching him crash to the ground, you straighten up from behind the rock you’d perched yourself behind. You couldn’t see Zoro and Sanji from where you were and a quick glance across the park told you you’d all (mainly them) managed to take out most of Arlong’s men.

Standing to your feet, you climb down the rocks and head in the direction you thought you’d last seen Sanji and Zoro go in. Despite being further back, you’d watched them argue the entire time they’d been fighting, so you figured checking on them was probably the best idea.

Sure enough, eventually you can hear their muffled voices arguing. You follow the sound, coming around a broken down stand, only to come crashing into someone.

You stumble back, blinking, until your eye lands on the familiar sight of Buggy. With his body.

Your grip instantly tightens on your gun, while his lips stretch into a wide grin.

“Sorry, my Angel Eye,” he laughs and you hiss at the sound of that nickname, stepping towards him. He holds his hands up as he wiggles his fingers at you in a mocking goodbye. “I’d love to catch up but I gotta go!”

He runs past you in the next second before you even have a second to blink, and your hand twitches, wanting to stop him. But honestly, the thought occurs to you it might just be best to let him go; if he was gone, then at least you didn’t have to see him and listen to his grating voice any longer.

You also don’t know at that moment if you were strong enough to kill him. Not in the physical sense, but… mental.

Shaking your head, you let the thought leave you, focusing back on finding Zoro and Sanji.

Figures he’d betray you guys anyways.

Scoffing, you continue making your way forward, face easing when you see Zoro and Sanji.

“I see Buggy betrayed us,” you comment, gesturing behind you.

Sanji and Zoro turn to you.

“He didn’t do anything did—”

“What did that fucking clown say—”

Blinking at the both of them, you watch as they turn to each other, before promptly turning the other way.

You bite your lip, laughing. “You guys are—”

Whatever you’d been about to say gets cut off the second you let out a scream. A sharp, aching pain radiates from your left eye, making you fall to your knees as you clutch at your face, curling in on yourself.

Your name leaves Zoro’s lips as he and Sanji run towards you, Zoro kneeling in front of you.

“Y/N,” he calls, voice pitched in panic. “Y/N, what happened? What’s going on?”

“I—” Hissing, you cry out as the sting continues to radiate across your face.

Hands fall on you, careful and slow, pulling your own away from your face.

Leaning forward, Zoro pauses at the sight and Sanji behind him gasps;

“Y/N, your eye…”

You stare up at them, hand hovering by your face, trying to bear through the pain.

“What… What’s happening?”

“Your eye is glowing, Y/N,” Zoro mumbles, shaking his head. “It’s like… shining.”

Frowning at him, you ease when the pain lessens somewhat. Still, your heart is racing with terror of what’s happening.

“Does it still—”

Footsteps cut Zoro off, all three of your guys’ attention snapping to the right where you see one of Arlong’s main lackeys coming over. He grins wide at the sight of you three, and instantly, Sanji is shifting into a fighting stance as Zoro stands, stepping in front of you.

“Stay back, Y/N,” Zoro calls, stretching his arm in front of you.

You nod up at him, pushing yourself back as you try and bite back another cry of pain.

It doesn’t take them long to fight him. Even though Sanji gets kicked around a bit, the second the bad guy says something about Nami, Sanji is zoned in on him. With a series of powerful kicks, you watch as Sanji takes down the guy in seconds.

Zoro turns to you, sure that it was safe to, crouching. His touch is gentle as he tries to get a closer look at your eye.

As their fight had progressed, the pain had lessened. And now, it’s nearly gone, just a faint, residual itchy feeling.

“Does it still hurt?” Zoro frowns.

You shake your head, “it’s just… uncomfortable. Is it still glowing?”

“Not anymore,” he shakes his head, shifting his hands to your hips as he helps you back to your feet.

“Has that ever happened before, love?” Sanji asks, staring back at you in concern.

You ignore Zoro’s huff at the nickname, shaking your head at Sanji. “No,” you frown. “I have no idea what that was.”

Turning back to Zoro, it’s hard to hide your fear.

Brushing his fingers across your cheek, Zoro shakes his head. “It’s okay, just tell me if it happens again, alright? We’ll figure it out.”

Eased at his reassurance, you lean into his touch.

“Also,” Zoro smiles down at you, “you did great.”

His words bring an instant beam to your lips, appreciating his ability to shift your mind away from your worries and praise you at the same time. You grin, clapping your hands in front of you in joy. “Really?” Then, turning to Sanji, your eyes sparkle. “You think so too, Sanji?”

Any discomfort he’d shown at Zoro’s words to you eases as he grins at you. “Of course, love, you did amazing.”

Your face is practically sparkling.

“Would you stop calling her that?” Zoro huffs, “and what was with those stupid names with your kicks?”

“All great heroes have names for their attacks,” Sanji shrugs, unbothered.

Zoro hesitates before sighing. “Yeah, you’ll fit in great.”

You grin, happy they were (sorta) getting along.

Just then, a familiar screaming catches your attention. Turning your gaze to the entrance of Arlong park, you watch as Usopp comes running in, slingshot at the ready.

“Never fear, the Great Captain Usopp is…” But his words trail when he realizes everyone is already down. “Is… oh. You guys did pretty good in here.” Sighing, he grins at you all, sending you a thumbs up. You send him one back. “Good job guys!”

He nods to himself, and the four of you shift, falling silent.

Putting a hand to your right eye, so you see nothing, you frown to yourself, unable to ignore the unsettled feeling still in your stomach.

“Nami!”

Blinking at Sanji’s call, you look up, face brightening when you see Nami running over to the four of you.

Sanji’s arms stretch wide for a hug, but she runs past him, gunning straight for you, Usopp and Zoro. You stumble as you’re brought into an embrace, squished between Zoro and Usopp as Nami’s face falls into the crook of your neck.

“You’re all okay!”

Smiling at her, you nod as she pulls back, taking one last long look at the three of you before turning back to Arlong’s base.

“Where’s Luffy?” Zoro asks.

Glancing at Sanji, who’d been rejected seconds before, you offer a small wink when he meets your gaze.

“Still inside,” Nami answers, “fighting Arlong.”

Turning back to Arlong Park, you frown, however, at the sight of the building crumbling apart.

-

“That was crazy, huh?”

Smiling down at Zoro, you take a seat next to him, letting your arm brush against his before turning to meet his gaze.

Zoro snorts next to you, returning your smile with a softer one of his own. He leans back as you sit next to him, and you don’t fail to notice the way he leans back, his right hand falling to a spot behind you, silently giving you the room to lean into him.

Biting back your smile, you don’t hesitate to do just that.

“Thought we were going to be fighting off the entirety of that Marine force,” Zoro comments dryly, letting his gaze drift in front of the both of you. You think back to what had just happened moments prior and the realization that the Vice Admiral, Luffy’s grandfather, had been chasing after all of you as some sort of test for his grandson.

Letting out a laugh, you glance up at Zoro, an adoring look in your eye. “I bet you would’ve too,” you comment. With a teasing grin, you poke at his side, careful of his wound. “After all, you like being Luffy’s first mate more than you’ll admit.”

Rolling his eyes, he smirks down at you; “maybe.”

You giggle, letting your head fall onto his shoulder and drift your gaze across the crowd of bustling and happy villagers. It’s a stark contrast from when you’d all first arrived on Cocoyashi Village, but it was one that made your heart swell with pride and warmth. Arlong and his goons were gone and now Nami’s village could live in peace like they always should’ve been able to.

Speaking of, you pause in your thoughts when you notice Nami and Nojiko walking past you. Both of their eyes are on you and Zoro and while Nojiko offers a simple wave and a warm smile, the look in Nami’s eyes is telling as she wiggles her brows at you, gesturing loosely to Zoro. You flush, but the grin on your lips is undeniable.

You watch them walk off, happy the two sisters could have these final moments together.

“How’s your eye?”

Looking up at the sound of Zoro’s question, you find him staring down at you, chin dipped towards you and eyes dancing with concern.

“Better,” you say honestly, letting your hand fall over your left eye, covering your vision completely for a brief second before turning back to Zoro. “I don’t know what that was but I… have been noticing things recently.”

Zoro’s brows furrow; “what things?”

“I just… see things,” you shrug, unsure how to explain it. “See things before others can. Like when I saw the island… Usopp didn’t see it for a minute and we all know that the one thing he does have is good vision. Or when the Marine’s stole Nami’s money, I could see them far before I should’ve been able to.”

Zoro takes in your words, slowly nodding. “You think it could have to do with Mihawk?”

“Maybe,” you nod, the thought having already crossed your mind. “I’ve never understood why my eye looks like this or why my right one is blind… My mother had normal eyes. Maybe something went wrong when I was born?”

Still leant against him, Zoro shifts, moving to slip your hand in his own as he squeezes. “Well, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, yeah? There’s gotta be an answer somewhere out there.’

His voice is sincere, serious with the promise of helping you. Warmth floods you, heart fluttering, and you think back to the first time you ever met Zoro. When he’d stumbled in that tent that day, you never would’ve thought this is where you’d be now.

Nodding up at him, you say; “it’s a promise.”

He smiles, and with that, you let your head fall against his shoulder again, hand still in his.

The two of you spend the rest of the celebration like that.

-

“So…”

Glancing over at Nami, you huff; “so?”

“You and Zoro?” She grins, wide and from ear to ear. “Can’t believe I missed that.”

Letting out a chuckle, you shake your head. “Don’t tease me,” you whine faintly, pressing a hand to your forehead as the two of you make your way to the kitchen. “I already got enough of it from Usopp.”

Nami barks out a laugh just as the two of you slip inside.

“Get enough of what from me?” Usopp asks, looking up for one of his new ammo experiments he’d been working on.

Meeting Nami’s eyes, the both of you giggle.

“Nothing!”

“Ah,” Sanji comments from the counter, “it’s so nice to be rewarded with such lovely laughter from two lovely ladies.”

You let out a chuckle, moving to sit next to Zoro as Nami grins over at Sanji.

“Oi,” Zoro calls, looking up for his swords. “What have I said about flirting with Y/N, you damned cook?”

Sanji just shrugs, not at all bothered; “I can’t help it. Y/N’s elegance merely demands it.”

Nami and Usopp cackle but you notice the way Zoro moves to get up, quickly grabbing ahold of his arm to stop him.

“You—!”

“Guys!”

Thankful for the distraction, your face lights up as Luffy comes bounding into the kitchen, a slip of paper in his hands. Moving towards the table, he slams it down.

“Look.” 

“Oh, shit,” you breathe, staring down at the wanted poster.

“Hey, look,” Usopp cheers, “I’m famous!”

Sanji shakes his head; “what are you on about? That’s Luffy’s wanted poster.”

“Not just Luffy,” Usopp smirks, reaching forward and pointing at the paper. You follow his gesture, huffing a laugh when you realize, sure enough, there Usopp is in the left corner of the poster.

Or, at least, the back of him.

“Sorry, guy,” Usopp chuckles, glancing at you all. “Maybe if you work a little harder, you’ll get a bounty too.”

“That doesn’t count.” Sanji rolls his eyes.

“It’s okay to be jealous. Feel what you need to feel.”

“I… mm…” Cutting himself off, Sanji submits; “this is stupid.”

“This is gonna make things much harder,” Zoro comments from next to you. “With that price on your head, every bounty hunter in the East Blue will be gunning for you.”

“Not just Luffy,” Nami adds. “They’re gonna be gunning for all of us.”

Everyone falters, faced with reality, but you just smile over at Luffy.

“Still,” you speak up, pulling Luffy’s attention on you. “Good for you, Luffy! That’s the first step to being the King of the Pirates!”

He sends you a thumbs up, as the rest groan.

“What have we talked about,” Nami frowns at you. “You don’t need to encourage him anymore than he already encourages himself.”

You just shrug, grinning.

“Besides,” Luffy shrugs, “it doesn't matter. Because we are not staying in the East Blue.”

Staring up at all of you, he grins; 

“We’re going to the Grand Line.”

-

“Straw Hats! All hands on deck for a cast-off ceremony.”

Listening to Luffy’s order, you step out onto deck behind Zoro, raising a brow when you see Luffy, Nami and Sanji already gathered around a barrel.

Usopp’s the last to arrive, and the second he comes to a stop, Sanji raises his leg, placing it on the edge of the barrel.

“I’m gonna find the All Blue,” he promises, and your heart starts with realization of what’s happening.

Luffy follows his lead with ease, slamming his leg on the barrel with a bit more force. “I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!”

Zoro shifts next to you, smiling wide, and then, he does the same. “I’m gonna be the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“I’m gonna draw a map of the world,” Nami promises, raising her leg as she smiles at you all.

“I…” Usopp hesitates, shifting, before raising his leg. “Am gonna be a brave warrior of the sea!”

Laughter echoes, and then, everyone’s eyes shift to you. Hesitating similarly to Usopp, you glance at the barrel and then each of your friends.

Feeling your heart flutter with excitement, you raise your leg, taking up the last bit of space left on the barrel.

“I’m gonna discover the truth about my eye!” You promise, biting your lip.

You glance at everyone, grinning, until your eyes fall on Zoro who smiles back at you with pride.

“This is it, crew,” Luffy calls, “The Grand Line.”

He pauses, meeting each and every one of your eyes, before, his raises his hand to the sky and screams;

“Nothing’s gonna stand in our way! Yeah!”

Without hesitation, you lean back, inhaling sharply before letting out a bellow of; “Woohoo!”

[mrs-kmikaelson]

helios

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x sunshine!reader Summary: Aaron thinks you're just about the most radiant person he's ever met. But then you fly too close to the sun, and all your light disappears. Warnings: grumpy x sunshine turned not sunshine, references to the greek myth of icarus and the sun god helios, graphic descriptions of violence, murder, mentions of abduction, heartbreak, complicated relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unresolved trauma, aaron is a bit of a jerk (with reason) Words: 3.1K

Masterlist | icarus (part 1) | part 3

a/n: part 3 otw (don't kill me; we can talk about the next part of the grey area later)

When you first met Hotch, you knew he was wondering why you'd apply for the BAU. Most people wondered why you'd work for the Bureau in the first place. To make the world brighter, you'd thought.

But now your world was so dark that it made you wonder what the point of any of it was.

Did it matter if you helped some people? Did you really help anyone? You used to think so.

Now you were on the other side of the equation, and it didn't seem that way anymore. You weren't the agent, just the victim. And now you wondered—could you ever truly help anyone? Or were they all just dead the moment they were taken?

You never stayed long enough to see the aftermath, what happened to the victims after the unsub was apprehended. You now wished you did. Did this feeling ever go away?

It didn't feel like that right now.

Nonetheless, you still found yourself sitting at the BAU round table, coffee in hand in attempts to remedy your lack of sleep. It didn't help much, but it made you feel like you were doing something. Lately, everything in your life felt that way.

You sat across from Spencer, between Emily and Derek. They were talking about this movie they saw; Reid was arguing about innaccuracy and statistical probability. They invited you to go, too.

No thanks, guys. I'm busy this weekend. You didn't elaborate further.

You remembered the look of disappointment that washed over Spencer's face, but he covered it with a smile. You reciprocated it the best you could.

Smiling felt harder.

"Hey, Y/L/N, you listening?"

You blinked, turning to see Morgan looking at you expectantly. "Sorry. What?"

"I said, drinks. After this case. It's all on the old man's tab." Rossi made a sound of protest in the background, but Morgan barely glanced his way, keeping his eyes on you. "You in?"

Your mouth opened, but you didn't know what to say. You were running out of excuses. This felt like a test—

"Let's start the briefing."

At Hotch's entrance to the room, you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders despite the air somehow getting heavier. You trained your eyes on the screen, relieved that you wouldn't have to answer.

JJ started, "Baltimore's seen a series of child abductions over the past few months. Jimmy Porter was abducted from the mall a week ago." She clicked to the next slide. "His body was found dumped by the harbor 2 days ago."

Diving into profiler mode, you tilted your head at the picture. "Dumped is a nice way of putting it," you commented. "The positioning shows an ample amount of remorse."

"And he dumped the body where it could easily be found," Hotch built off your point. He usually did that. It almost felt like things were normal between you.

Please, Y/N.

You cleared your throat. "Have the other bodies ever been found?"

JJ sighed, automatically indicating you wouldn't like her answer. "Baltimore PD is sweeping the water as we speak." She clicked to the next slide. "Last night, Max Campbell was taken from his home while his parents were asleep."

Derek sat up straighter. "That's a hell of a risk to take."

"To go from abducting from common hunting grounds like a mall to one's own home is extremely unlikely. It shows an immense jump in confidence and victimology, going from victims of opportunity to a specific victim in a specific location," Reid said, making gestures with his hands. 

You tipped your head in his direction. "There must be something specific about Max Campbell that made the unsub take him without even cooling off."

Hotch nodded, agreeing. "We'll discuss this further on the jet. Wheels up in 30." 

You all stood up, grabbing your things. You were about to leave the room when Hotch called your name. 

"Y/N." You turned back, seeing his soft expression that was simultaneously devoid of emotion. "Could I speak to you for a moment, please?"

No. Whatever he wanted to talk about could wait. He already got his fill the night before. You had nothing more to talk about.

But you couldn't say that. You'd already said too much. So, you reluctantly nodded, waiting for everyone to file out of the room and ignoring the glances they shared.

Rossi closed the door on his way out, like he could anticipate that you wouldn't want anyone to hear this conversation. You didn't know if you wanted to thank him for it or be angry at the assumption.

Most of your feelings were torn between extremes.

Sadness and anger.

Relief and intensity.

And as you stared at Aaron, standing there with stiff arms, hate and love.

He started slowly as if he was pacifying an unpredictable animal. "Y/N... I would like you to stay with Garcia for this case."

You involuntarily recoiled, shocked at the notion. If he was ashamed, he didn't show it. You scoffed. "What?" He opened his mouth, but you didn't let him get a word in, taking a step forward. "Hotch, that's ridiculous. Child offenders are my specialty. Are you seriously taking me off this case?"

"I'm not taking you off the case," he reasoned. "You'll be more help here—"

"How?" A look of offense crossed his face, but you couldn't care less. Maybe you would've been more scared to go against Hotch before, but this was now. He'd never suggested something so ludicrous.

Emily called you yin and yang, two sides of the same coin. He trusted you on all fronts. This didn't feel like trust.

It felt like punishment.

Hotch's eyes hardened, giving you a look you'd never seen directed at you before. "Agent Y/L/N, as your unit chief, I am ordering you to stay here. Your input is valued; you will still contribute. But effective immediately, you will not be joining us in the field until a psychological evaluation deems you fit."

Another scoff left you. "Psychological evaluation? That's what this is about? All because I wouldn't fucking talk to you—"

"Watch your tone—"

"You have my doctor's note. I am physically and mentally capable for this job. You are not a licensed psychologist—"

His voice raised as he cut you off. "I reserve the right to make decisions about the agents on my team." He gave you one final once-over, like he was daring you to say another word, give him a reason to do something more drastic. You clenched your jaw, holding back all the words you wanted to let flow. That seemed to satisfy him enough. "You will stay here. End of discussion."

Hotch grabbed his briefcase and promptly left the room, not sparing you another glance as you just stood there, left once again by Aaron Hotchner.

Yin and yang, Emily had said. It almost made you laugh. The coin was flipped.

He was leaving you in the shadows.

— 

Derek passed by your desk as you were grabbing your things, getting ready to go to Penelope's bat cave. He raised a brow at you. "Hey, where's your go bag?"

Without meaning to, you sighed, immediately regretting it when you saw the smile on his face falter. "Sorry, I'm—" not mad at you, "I'm not coming. Bossman's orders." You threw in a smile, trying to smooth things over, but it came out more sarcastic than anything.

He stared at you in silence for a few seconds with that same look that everyone had been giving you since you came back. The same way you'd look at a pressure-activated bomb. Careful not to move too fast, press too hard, press in the wrong areas.

Derek seemed to decide that whatever he was thinking was worth saying. "Kid, you know he just wants what's best for you." Kid.

Were you not grown up now?

You pursed your lips before responding, "Yeah." It was sure as hell hard to see it that way when you were being benched, punished for something that wasn't your fault.

You couldn't help but think that Hotch would never do this to Derek. Or anyone, for that matter. It was just you.

Morgan sighed, but he left it at that, sensing the cut was too fresh. His eyes travelled lower. Silence again.

You knew what he was looking at. You resisted the urge to cover your stomach.

"Does—" he hesitated. Derek Morgan never hesitated. "Does it still hurt?"

You sharply inhaled. The scars had two months to heal. Sometimes, you could still feel the knife ripping into your body. Once. Twice. Three times.

You could feel it most times, actually.

The medications could get rid of the pain, but they couldn't get rid of the sensation of that knife in your body. Sometimes, you thought nothing ever would.

"I'm told it doesn't hurt anymore than it should," you said. Whatever that meant. Apparently, you were in pain paradise. This is the spot you want to be at, you doctor told you.

You didn't call bullshit when he said that, but Morgan looked like he might do it for you in real time.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but he was cut off by Emily. 

"Are you guys coming?" Right after she spoke, her eyes darted between you both, asking you a different question with her eyes. Am I interrupting something?

You shook your head, giving her a smile that looked more practiced. No, you're not. "No, I'm not coming. I'll see you guys when you get back." You dodged any more questions by quickly turning around. Morgan could explain it to her if she asked. You didn't feel like answering any more questions, being treated like a ticking time bomb.

You just wanted things to go back to normal. Once they started treating you like they did before, then you could be the same as you were before.

You're not the same, Y/N.

Nothing was.

—

Penelope couldn't get through to you. You were quiet all day except to share your theories. The next day was the same. And the next. And the next. Until the bastard was caught.

Max Campbell was rescued. You weren't there to see it, but you wondered if it really made a difference. He was just a boy, so full of light.

Would that light ever come back to him?

You exhaled, running your hand over your face. Even though you stayed home, you were exhausted. You didn't sleep more than an hour at a time, but that wasn't much different from your new routine.

You were starting to see more of the moon than the sun.

When the team returned, you greeted them all with smiles. There, just like before. The only difference was that you didn't talk to Hotch.

He glanced at you, wordlessly telling you to talk to him, but you weren't gonna do that.

Rossi noticed the lack of communication between you. Everyone did, but he was the only one who'd say something about it.

Stirring his coffee in the break room, he started, "Aaron is... stubborn. But he's extra hardheaded for the people that he loves." Loves.

Your hand stilled halfway to grabbing the coffee pot, but you recovered quickly, grabbing it and pouring yourself a cup. You glanced side to side, checking to see if anyone was around to hear him and whatever he was implying. 

When you found no one else, you replied, "Okay." You weren't going to dignify that claim with any other response.

You knew Aaron cared about you; you'd be a shitty profiler not to know that. But love was a strong word.

Love didn't leave you all alone when you begged it to stay. Love didn't stay away from you while you were lying in a hospital bed. Love didn't interrogate you and make you sit on the sidelines when you didn't answer its questions. Love didn't make you feel so cold when all you wanted was to feel warm.

Rossi stopped pretending to pay attention to his coffee. You didn't meet his eyes. "Bellissima, you're going to have to talk to him eventually."

"Can you pass the creamer, please?"

"No." Finally, you looked up, meeting Rossi's passionate gaze. "It gets worse before it gets better. You have to let that happen."

You clenched your fists, digging your nails into your palms. You didn't see how it could possibly get worse than this.

"You know, I don't really think I want this coffee anymore." You left the mug on the counter, exiting the break room and leaving the conversation altogether.

— 

"Hotch, please. The case is right here—"

"No."

"Come on, I'll be right by your side the whole time," you argued. A new case came in, just over in Montclair, and you were trying to negotiate your way into it. Two cases had passed where he made you stay in Quantico. It was becoming nonsensical.

You thought he'd crack by now, but he remained firm in his resolve, refusing to let you in the field until you talked about what happened. And "talking about it" was something you didn't want to do, much less with him.

His gaze had more heat than the sun outside. You could tell he was contemplating it. Even he must've been able to see how absurd this was, holding you back from your work when he wouldn't do the same to anyone else.

When it was him on the other side of this, he came back to work. He went into the field 30 days after being stabbed nine times. You only endured a third of that.

You thought back to that day. You'd rushed to the hospital and didn't leave his side. You visited him every day, keeping him company and updating him on your cases. You never iced him out the way he was isolating you right now. You never avoided him when you knew he was hurting.

If you talked to him—if you had that conversation—then that's what you'd say. You'd end up saying something foolish about the things you felt, feelings he wouldn't reciprocate. You'd reopen wounds you were desperately trying to close.

So you wouldn't.

You didn't say a word of what you were really thinking, sticking to the script. Please let me go. I'll be fine. I'll stay by you.

Eventually, he made up his mind. "Fine."

You could've nearly smiled.

— 

The case finished speedily. You captured the unsub and found the girl just in time. Happily ever after.

Hotch didn't seem to think so.

As soon as the elevator doors opened to the sixth floor, he was storming past you all, his footsteps thunderous against the floor. Garcia's smile fell from her face when she saw.

Without turning back, he called, "Y/L/N. My office, now."

You rolled your eyes, following him and ignoring the looks your colleagues exchanged. They did that a lot, lately. But everyone stayed silent, electing not to make commentary. It was smart, not wanting to add fuel to the fire.

But you... you were the most fire you'd been in months. For the first time since what happened, you didn't feel cold. White hot anger coursed through your veins, lighting a fuse that no one could get rid of.

You slammed Hotch's door on your way in. He immediately turned to you, seething, "That was reckless and stupid—"

"It got the job done—"

He raised his voice. "You walked into the house alone, without backup—"

"I talked him down—"

"You could've died!"

"It wouldn't be the first time!" you snapped. Your chest heaved as if you'd just run a marathon, phantom pains in your abdomen supporting your words. 

He glanced downward before meeting your eyes again. For a second, it was almost like you were looking at Aaron. It was almost like he was understanding. 

You got quieter, but your voice was no less firm. "It certainly won't be the last."

And just like that, Aaron disappeared. No longer your friend. Back to the prosecutor, the unit chief who took your words as a challenge. His eyes narrowed. "Yes, it will be." It took you a moment to understand what he meant, but he soon made it very clear. "Your gun and your badge, now. You're suspended for the next two weeks."

You took a step backward as if his words were a slap in the face. "What?"

Hotch didn't lighten up, his face completely impassive. "You are a danger to yourself, and I cannot allow you into the field in good conscience." He held his hand out. "Gun. Badge. Now."

You echoed, "You're suspending me?"

"Yes."

An incredulous scoff left you. He was suspending you after everything? When he had done the same and worse?

He was allowed to use his judgement and keep things to himself, but the second you stepped out of line, he wanted to suspend you? You couldn't believe it. You wouldn't believe it.

In a split second, you made a snap decision. If he didn't want you here, then it wouldn't be on his terms.

You unholstered your gun and unpocketed your badge, shoving them in his chest as opposed to handing them to him. You didn't take your eyes off him once, maintaining your glare.

You hoped it burned.

"You're not suspending me," you rebutted, taking a step closer to him. Realization dawned on his face. "I quit."

Hotch's face morphed into something that almost looked like regret. You wouldn't stay long to savour it.

You spun on your heel, marching out of his office with him right behind you. The team, who no doubt heard small bits of your conversation, looked confused. You didn't stop for any of them.

"Y/N, this conversation isn't finished." He must've thought that'd get to you. His unit chief voice, big and loud. But your feet didn't stop moving.

With your back still turned to him, you retorted, "No, but I am."

You reached the elevator, pressing the ground floor and close button within seconds of each other. When the doors closed, Hotch's approaching figure was gone, replaced by your own reflection.

A shaky breath left you. The fluorescent lights in the elevator were blinding. It was brighter in there than it was anywhere else in the building. But when you got out to the parking lot, it was just dark.

Artificial lights. Not the sun.

They didn't last. They had switches; you could turn them off.

Your switch was flipped, too. For a second, you were hot and blazing, burning brighter than you'd ever burned before. But as soon as you left the building, that changed completely.

You were immersed in darkness.

And you were alone.

[ooooo-mcyt]

I know Joel being mostly alone in Third Life is largely attributed to him being a loner and not having solid loyalties that season, and yeah, he did spend a lot of time alone willingly, and he was uncertain about his loyalties for most of the season. But I think it's really fascinating to look at the other side of why Joel was so isolated in Third Life;

That being that all the alliances he did form were fundamentally either coercive or conditional, either mutually or from the other end of things.

Joel and Scar were "friends", but their "friendship" was formed with Scar doing what he did best in Third Life- throwing his weight around and asking for something from Joel as a Scary Red Name. It was an alliance based on Joel not wanting to get on the bad side of a red name who was implicitly threatening him (as scar did with most players).

Joel joined Dogwarts briefly, but at the point where Joel joined, Dogwarts had started majorly employing intimidation tactics on the rest of the server, which left Joel in a position where he, again, didn't really have any choice but to just hang the banner and hope for the best.

People talk about his "flighty loyalties" with how he switched between sides, but I'd argue this had less to do with Joel's sense of loyalty and more to do with the coercive tactics that both Scar and Dogwarts liked to use at different points.

Joel had other allies at points. He bonded with Etho a bit. I think Scott and Jimmy both liked him. Cleo and Bdubs were friendly with him after he left Dogwarts. But these were largely very loose bonds, and many of them were conditional on the fact that they happened to be on the "same side".

Yes, Joel's decision to play relatively solo and not commit harder to a side was a lot of the reason he was a "lone wolf" in Third Life, but there was also a massive aspect of isolation from the other end where Joel was used as an easy intimidation target or convenient temporary ally by other players who (intentionally or not), would capitalize on the fact that he was alone to get something out of him, and that would just drive him further into isolation.

Which is something I always thought was fascinating regarding Third Life. Especially considering that, while Joel didn't seem too upset by the isolation in Third Life specifically, I think the fact that it wasn't entirely self imposed is good context for his continued isolation in Last Life, which he took significantly harder.

[extinctlesspains]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE give us a yandere kwon jae sung x reader🙏🙏

A/n: Y'all love Yandere Cobra Kai so I'll keep feeding you lovelies 😘♡

𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 [𝐾. 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: ʏᴇs

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ! ᴋᴡᴏɴ ᴊᴀᴇsᴜɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ᴅᴀʀᴋ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴜɴ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇɴᴛ, ᴋᴡᴏɴ ᴡᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴏɴᴇ sᴛᴇᴘ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ—ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ, ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ, sᴍɪʟɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴇ ᴋɴᴇᴡ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴘʀᴇssɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ǫᴜɪᴇᴛ ᴄʜᴜᴄᴋʟᴇ, ʜᴇ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ, "ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ɪ? ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ."

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

You used to think you were just another student in Cobra Kai. Nothing special, nothing worth noticing. But you were wrong—because Kwon had noticed you from the very beginning.

At first, it was subtle. His gaze lingered a second too long during training. He always partnered with you, even when there were better options. When sparring, he never hit you too hard—just enough to make you stumble, just enough to remind you of his strength.

Then, the little things turned into something more.

Kwon started walking you home without asking. “It’s late,” he’d say. “You shouldn’t be alone.” His tone made it clear that arguing was pointless. When you tried to tell him you could handle yourself, he just smirked and shook his head. “No,” he murmured, his fingers brushing against yours. “That’s what I’m here for.”

At first, you thought it was just him being protective—until you noticed the way he looked at anyone who got too close to you.

It started with stares. Cold, warning glances at guys who flirted with you. Then, it escalated.

One by one, they disappeared.

David, the guy from your history class who asked for your number? He quit Cobra Kai the day after Kwon saw you laughing with him. The bruise on his jaw was proof enough that it wasn’t voluntary.

Another boy—a Miyagi-Do student—sent you a message, asking if you wanted to hang out. The next day, you saw him in school, his wrist wrapped in a thick bandage. “Accident,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

You knew it wasn’t.

And then, there was the night you finally tried to confront him.

“What the hell is your problem?” you snapped, standing outside your apartment door. Kwon had followed you home—again—but this time, you weren’t letting it slide. You were tired. No matter the guy, the always disappeared. Except one... Kwon.

His expression didn’t change. If anything, he looked amused.

“My problem?” he repeated, stepping closer. His voice was calm, but there was something sharp underneath—something dangerous.

“You’re scaring people away! You’re hurting them!” Your hands curled into fists. “Why, Kwon? Why are you doing this?” you knew it was his fault. You just knew it.

His smirk faded. In one quick motion, he grabbed your wrist—not enough to hurt, but enough to make your breath hitch. His grip was firm, unyielding.

“You don’t need them,” he said quietly. “They’re distractions.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs. “That’s not your decision to make.” you snapped.

Kwon tilted his head, eyes darkening. “Isn’t it?” He let go of your wrist, only to cup your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. It was a harsh grip and you couldn't pull away. “I’m the one who watches over you. I’m the one who makes sure you’re safe. No one else.”

His touch was warm, almost tender. But you felt trapped.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered. Voice shaky.

Kwon chuckled. “Crazy for you? Yeah.” His thumb brushed over your lips, lingering for a second too long. “But that just means I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you. To protect you.”

Your stomach twisted. “I don’t need protection.”

His smirk returned. “That’s what you think.”

Then, before you could react, his other hand slammed against the wall beside your head. You flinched, but he didn’t move back.

“You don’t understand yet,” he murmured. “But you will.”

His voice sent a shiver down your spine. You should have pushed him away, should have run—but deep down, you knew it wouldn’t matter.

His gaze trailed down your neck. He left soft tender kisses along your jaw. It was gross and you wanted to push and scream at him, but you couldn't.

Because Kwon wasn’t letting go.

And no one could stop him.

[redheadspark]

hii, i genuinely love you so much and your work is something that makes my day. who am i kidding, YOU make my day but anyways would you pretty please do azriel from ACOTAR with #4?? unless someone else asked alreadyy. LUV YOUU

A/N - This is cute! Thanks for requesting, anon!

Idiot

Summary - You both were idiots. But idiots in love

Warnings - Fluff and angst mixed together

“We’re not done with this conversation!”

“I am!”

“Well, I’m not!”

You felt the shake of the front door of the townhouse as slammed shut behind you, the pictures on the wall even shook from the impact while you were stalking into the front entry way.  The heat behind you was almost grazing along your back, all because of the Illyrian who was fuming and was attempting to stop you.  You even felt his shadows wanting to lick at your sides to stop you, but you were not going to fall for that trap.

Not when you and your best friend were in the middle of a fight.

Being best friends with Azriel the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of Night Court was not easy, it was downright testy.  You two met right after Rhysand became the High Lord of Night Court, you were part of his Inner Circle as Head of Security in Velaris.  It meant you and Azriel had to work close together for those year Rhsyand was gone and Under The Mountain, both of your main objectives was to keep Night Court and Velaris safe from any danger outside of the border.  It was apparent from the very beginning that you both were head strong and stubborn in your ways and methods of working for Night Court, you were gentler and more social with the people.  On the contrary, Azriel would rather hide away in his shadows and work alone.

Plenty of meetings with the rest of the Inner Circle shows the pair of you arguing over the best methods and strategies.  Cassian could only watch as you two were nearly growling at one another over the tabletop.  He sighed, Armen rolled her eyes, and Mor simply smiled.

She knew, you two had it bad for one another.

Perhaps she was right: you did had feelings for him. You thought of him as handsome, beautiful even.  The way he would cary himself through the shadows or even with his wings made you loose for breath a few times.  You also admired his loyalty to Night Court, placing his neck on the line to keep the citizens safe.  Sometimes it was dumb on his part and uneasy to see, but you admired him all the more.  HIs smile, the way he voice sounded warm yet raw, his hands that were scarred but always gentle in touch with others he was helping, his hazel eyes.

You did love him, and yet he agitated you with his protectiveness.

He knew you could handle yourself in a battle or fight, you are not dainty flower or a damsel in distress.  Hell, he saw him take on a few of his recruited Illryians at the camps in the mountains, but that never stopped him from wanting to keep you on the safe side.  Not that he wanted you not to fight at all, that would be silly on his part since he knew Mor was a fighter as well as Armen.  That was not an issue to him, he didn’t love them as he loved you.  

You had no idea that he loved you, inwardly loved you.  He kept his feelings to himself, something he learned him his childhood.  Feelings were going to get him hurt, the were going to make him vulnerable. He couldn’t be either of those, not with the job he had. For so long Azriel was good in letting his feelings be buried and not be a distraction.

But tat went out of the window when it came to you, and apparently everyone but Azriel himself knew.

He loved the way the sun shined in your hair, how you were fierce in your fighting skills, how you loved dark coffee in the morning with a good book to read.  The small little things about you grew on Azriel as well, no longer how you too were stubborn in your ways.  

The others could see it: two forces about to collide but in the best way. It was all about timing.  

When will it happen?  When will you two finally realize that you loved one another and let that love grow? When will you both push your egos aside?  

This afternoon one of those fights you two had.  Azriel wanted you to stay in the city with the citizens while Azriel and Cassian were attempting to do a small rogue mission to another Court.  To you, it made no sense since Mor was already taking care of Velaris and security was alrighty tight.  When you brought it up, Azriel shot it down within seconds without a second thought. It ended up in the pair of you in a yelling match at the House of Wind, Cassian finally having enough of the two of you yelling at one another and kicked you out to head back to the Townhouse before he got another headache.  

“You don’t want me there with you and Cassian because you think I can’t handle it, fine!  I don’t wanna argue about it anymore!” You huffed at him as you walked into the parlor, shrugging off your jacket abruptly you almost pulled your hair out of its pointy tail.  Azriel was right on your tail, his feet stomping on the ground and hitting the hardwood floor in such a violent way as his hazel eyes were glaring at you.

“I didn’t say you can’t handle it—“ He started to say, but you whirled on your heel to face him.  He stopped, you both being chest to chest with one another as you glared up at him since he had a few inches on you.  His shadows even back off when you faced him with fire in your eyes and your finger hitting his chest hard, perhaps they were just as surprised as you were.

“You didn’t have to say it, but I knew you meant it,” You growled at him, Azriel’s eyes narrowing as you spoke again, “I can handle myself and I’ve shown that I can!”

“I know you can—“ He tried again but you cut him off.

“Yet you never let me help you and Cassian when I know I can!  It’s been years, Azriel, years and you still won’t let me try!  Do you think of me as weak?!”

It was like you punched him in the chest’s his eyes softening as you asked him that. You saw the shift, he shook his head as the anger was not on his face.  It looked like remorse, maybe uneasiness.

“No, that’s not—“ He attempting, his voice softer and no longer lace in anger.

“Am I a threat to you in how I handle a fight?  What is it that is making you stop me from being with you and helping you?” You asked, your voice almost raw from how you were pushing yourself and this conversation a bit too far.  It was then as Azriel finally snapped, the resistance he had within himself was no longer there.  Like a damn opened and everything he was trying to confide was now coming out like a massive flood in a river.

“YEAH BUT I LOVE YOU!” His voice boomed.

You both were frozen in your spot, watching each other as his voice rang in the Townhouse.  You were watching him with wide eyes, your heart beating hard in your throat.  Your ears were ringing, your skin was running hot, and all you could think about were those four words he said to you.  All this time you never thought that he would love you, maybe even like you.  He seemed too far away for someone like you to catch his eye, someone who had too much baggage.  You were selling yourself short of course, according to Mor anyways.  She told you that you were worthy of love from whoever would take it and hold it close.

And now it seemed to be Azriel.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice softer now like a breath as he clenched his hands tight against his sides, “For a long time I’ve loved you.  And because I love you, I don’t want you with me because you can get hurt.  I have nightmares at night of those close to me getting hurt because of me, and you’re the one I fear the most.”

You realized it then, he was protecting you.

The times he pushed you away, redirecting those conversations of you helping out.  Azriel was attempting to keep you out of arms length and out of harms way.  You were too stubborn to see it, and you felt foolish as Azriel was scanning your eyes to see what you were going to say or how you were going to react.  

Heat was still under your skin and in your veins, but you did the one thing that you could do.  You reached up to cup the back of his neck, his cool skin against your palm as you finally spoke.

“You idiot,” you mumbled, pulling him in to crash his lips against yours.

You both were kissing each other as if you were needing air. His arms around your lower waist to cradle you close, your fingers digging in his dark locks to feel his skull against his palm, his scent invading yours as your eyes closed and drank in this moment.  No longer were you going to be stubborn in your ways and in how you felt, there was no longer a need to be afraid or hesitant in how you felt, it was all out in the open.

Freeing.  You felt free for the first time in some time.  

Azriel gently moved you until you were against the wall, he was still kissing you but was slowing down his lips on yours as you were leaning into him a bit more, your own hand reaching up to cup his jaw as he inhaled sharply.

He pulled away and eyed you with a twinkle in his eye, “That’s a first for you: calling me a idiot and then kissing me”

You breathed out slowly as you grinned from ear to ear, “Well you were an idiot for doing that to me,”

“Fine, I’ll be your idiot,” He hummed, shrugging as he dived in to kiss you again, you sighed against your lips while his fingers were clinging to you delicately and yet with possession.  To see and feel this side of Azriel, soft and almost pliant in your hands and in front of you, you were entranced with him all the more.  That hard exterior was gone, the toughness that he carried seemed to be replaced with something soft, something real.

Something laced with love and affection just for you.

“Is it safe to say that I love you too?” You asked in a breath as his lips moved to kiss along your neck slowly and deliberately.  Azriel chuckled against your skin, making your cling to him a bit more since you felt the I vibration.

“I would hope so since I have no intention of letting you go,” He growled, his lips lowering to your collarbone.  No more than a minute ago you two were heat at one another to the point of ripping each other’s heads off, and yet now you wanted to rip each other’s clothes off.  

It seemed accurate.

“How about you won’t let me out of the bedroom?” You asked in a challenging way, Azriel looking up at you with a glint in his eye.  A flicker us lust there in his bright orbs as he scanned your own eyes. That adrenaline was back, where it was once laced with anger was now laced with something else. 

He cocked a grin at you: challenge accepted.

He hoisted you up, you gasped as your legs went around his waist while he framed your hips and walked the pair of you to the master bedroom on the second floor with ease.  

The End. 

[ofteacupsandclocks]

So in my philosophy class in university we were talking about morality and I needed to write a mini essay on an example of moral subjectivism in pop culture. So obviously I had to write about Hannibal because it just gave me for a new angle to analyse the show from.

So: Moral subjectivism is one of the views on how people “get” their moral values. The main principle of this view is that there are no objective morals and each person’s morality is based on their own thoughts and opinions. 

And the TV show “Hannibal” - is a great example of this view of morality.

There are many instances where the characters discuss ethics and morality, often highlighting the idea of ethical relativism and moral subjectivism. An example would be when Lecter explains his view of ethics as “Ethics become aesthetics” in reference to a murder. This shows that to him murder is not inherently amoral or even an ethical dilemma, and that instead it is more of an aesthetic concern. So Hannibal is an example of how even while being raised in a culture, he does not share any of the “objective” moral values such as the value of human life that according to moral objectivism or even moral conventionalism should have been imparted on him. 

At a different point in the show Will Graham says “You can’t reduce me to a set of influences. I’m not the product of anything.”and that he has “given up good and evil for behaviorism”. Starting with the first of the two quotes, Will rejects the idea that society and his culture has made him into what he is, and that instead his rather questionable moral compass is something of his own making. The second quote then shows how he further strays from the moral values that he should have held based on both the society he existed in and the idea that there are “objective” moral values. He rejects the common and values of “good” and “evil”. Will chooses to accept his own crooked morality rather than follow the objective or cultural morality.

Finally, Hannibal argues against the idea that there is an objective morality dependent on God. He says “Killing must feel good to God, too... He does it all the time, and are we not created in His image?”. Thus he both shows that looking to the divine is not a good base for morality but also that things generally viewed as amoral (such as killing people) can also be seen as good and just. That at the end of the day morality is simply a matter of perspective and of personal opinion.

[oh-no-its-bird]

More early Konoha thoughts, specifically in culture sharing between the clans

Most clans have specific foods and types of products they use— they have their usual trades, usual hunting grounds, usual crafts and methods to make things, that sort of thing.

So when Konoha is created, there's this sudden influx in just the variety of things that are now easily accessible to them. Let's use alcohol as an example:

Most clans would have a specific way of brewing their own alcohol, not to mention what local ingredients they'd use, or they'd have a usual merchant they'd go to for their specific usual brands. For some clans, their situations, locations, and budget might mean they have less or more alcohol available to them

Then they come to Konoha and suddenly they have this big variety of all sorts of different drinks.

Suddenly, when before you would have to jump through several hoops and travel a stupid amount of miles to get yourself some Senju brewed beer, it's just. Right there. You can now ask your neighbor to pretty please share some with you

There's so much variety!!! So much to choose from!! I think it'd be overwhelming for some people, especially those from smaller clans who were used to having 3 options of food, drink and amusement to choose from for their entire life.

There's suddenly so much for them to explore

Especially having fun thinking about all these specific 'clan delicacies' in such close proximity ,,, I want to see some foodie losing their goddamn mind and legit crying as they realize their quest to taste the specific foods of every clan in the land of fire is suddenly so much more realistic than they thought before

This same thought process goes for pretty much everything crafts or culture related ^^

There's suddenly so many different games and rules and clothing styles and jewelry and courting traditions, all dumped into one big pot together

Some people are trying to play a simple card game together then realizing that their clans call the cards different things (named after different clan gods)

Someone lends their friend one of their shirts, and the friend finds that the shirt's weaving pattern is completley different from any of the clothes they're used to

Two farmers from different clans begin a heated debate over the "right" way to tend and harvest their crops, and what type of soil and watering schedule is best for what plants

By the time modern Konoha comes around, all of these things have found a new normal.

The mixing pot finished most of its stirring, and while there is still plenty of cultural separation between clans (particularly the larger ones, who stubbornly held on to their own identity throughout the years) there's also an overall 'Konoha culture.'

Konoha has its own signature crafts, adapted from several clan styles.

They have their own drinks, made from Konoha crops, with recipies argued over by several drink makers decades ago.

They have their own styles of card games, the rules adapted from multiple different clan rule-sets, into something most could agree on. (Bearing the most similarity to the Shiranui clan's rule-set, which became quite a popular middleground for most people to play— not that many remember that now)

Konoha found it's own identity, made up of all the clans who donated their own to it.

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! young!serial killer grandpa & time traveler reader

masterlist | requests open !

warnings; Mentions of violence, murder, serial killings, Everett's superiority/god complex, misanthropy (hatred of the human race), manipulation, possessive behavior, mental instability, and there might be more that i forgot :( if i missed a major one, please let me know and i'll add it !!!

additional notes; i read "garden of the dead flowers" a while back (in which i totally did the daily pass thing. yeah. totally!), and i thought it had a lot of potential for a platonic yan,, i didn't like the ending much for other reasons, but i'm fixing it here. with my oc. as god intended, of course. of course, if you're familiar with the webcomic at all, this isn't really that similar; except for the very core basis ^^ this is the option that won the second poll :D

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Everett has met a lot of people before, that's just how it is, being the son of a wealthy businessman and a socialite. He's met a lot of strange people as well, eccentric people that makes Everett need a double-take.

But none quite so strange as you, who simply... showed up in the back garden one day. You were disoriented, wearing odd clothes as you patted around your pockets for... something. A handkerchief, maybe?

Either way, you'd be an easy kill. He'd never seen you around before, perhaps a runaway then. Nobody would miss you, in that case. And If they did, then they'd have a difficult time tracing you all the way to Everett's backyard.

But something made that train of thought stop before it even fully departed. Something about you made him hesitate, and subsequently approach and offer you help. To pull you up, dazed as you were, and help you into the sitting room.

You continued to be quite out of it, and when he returned, tea in hand-- you took it without question. You hadn't said a word, not to him or otherwise. All you did was look around, face pinched like you trying to figure something out.

By the end of it, Everett isn't quite sure what made him take such a liking to you. When you opened up, you tripped over your words-- you sounded funny, regardless of that. Saying words and phrases he's never heard, but he didn't pay much mind to that.

Regardless of your little verbal stumbles, you ended up telling him that you 'don't know how you got here', which he assumed you meant the town in general, or maybe just his backyard specifically.

The first conversation he genuinely held with you, you would always give these nonsensical answers that provided no more knowledge than before. When he asked "Where are you from?" You'd respond with "Not here.", or how you got here-- you'd always pause, and try to think it over before finally settling on "...I don't know."

Amnestic, maybe? That's what he could make of it, anyways. Other than your dazed behavior, you showed no real signs of a concussion. He set you up in a guest room-- and he doesn't know what makes him do it. Even as you wake up the next morning, no longer so confused--

Usually, he wouldn't really like people like you. Those who treat him so casually, those who treat everybody like that; like they were everybody's pal. It irked Everett to no end before,

So why is it different when you do it? With your strange words, strange habits, and even stranger way of dress-- what's got him so interested in you?

What sets you apart of his usual fare--? He could go and argue that he helped you recover so he could add you to his roster of victims, because he's not one for kicking someone when their down...

But he couldn't even fool himself with that lie. Really, he doesn't know why or how you managed to worm your way into his good graces so quickly-- enough where he let you stay in his home for the time being.

He could be harboring a runaway, either from a family or maybe even if the law. That could put him in risk, if cops come looking for you-- find his home, found evidence of what he does in and around it.

Again, it's just something about you... It makes it impossible to even think of driving a knife straight through your heart. What would be easy for him with everyone else, was like fighting an uphill battle when it came to you.

Either way, he's not letting you go now. Not after week of getting to know you-- after getting you new clothes to help fit in, getting his parents to make the school take you as a student. Just so you didn't have to sit and rot in that big house all day, of course.

He won't let you outside the grounds. Maybe because he doesn't want his new friend taken, the only person that's been entirely immune to his constant need to hurt others-- either by yourself, or anyone who's looking for you.

But he doesn't tell you that. He says he just wants to make sure you're healthy and not about to keel over from an untreated brain injury and whatnot.

Everett has grown quite fond of you, even if you're a little strange.

Maybe it's because you're so strange, that you're exempt from his usually unforgiving drive to prey on others, and rip them limb from limb like they were bugs under a microscope.

[cybersunnie]

the look of love | collection

RAFE CAMERON accidentally runs into Miss Sugar.

includes ib request / fem!teacher!reader / uncle!rafe / reader goes by "miss sugar" / fluff / dialogue heavy / mildly suggestive / wc 1.9k

Rafe rarely had good days. They were tolerable. Average, but never good. 

Today wasn’t any different. 

The moment he woke up, he had received the worst news he could receive: an investor pulled out of his latest project. Why? Because it was taking too long. Rafe couldn’t exactly argue with him there. Delays had occurred and put them behind schedule. But still, that son of a bitch was a millionaire. He had money to spare.

Whatever. He didn’t need him. That was what he thought until he saw the looks of his remaining investors’ faces when he reassured them to stay confident in his project. It was safe to say they weren’t very convinced. 

Everything was going just as planned. Clearly. 

And now, he loitered in the Kildare Retreat’s parking lot, staring at the beige three-story building before him. It was an apartment complex located just outside The Cut. One of his first projects. The one when people finally started to believe he had what it took to run his dad’s business. He earned their respect. Every smartass that had something to say before became mute in his presence. 

He supposed that was why he always found himself at Kildare Retreat. If he had done it then, he could have done it now, and he desperately needed that reminder.

But it was hard to reflect on anything when someone had music blasting on the third floor. Rafe didn’t know what was playing. An old song, he knew that much. It must be a new tenant. Some inconsiderate, low-life—

The music got louder as a door swung open, and a woman emerged, holding a paint can in each hand. 

Who was this bitch?

Rafe raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Once he squinted, the woman’s face cleared. Holy shit. He stepped away from his car and dropped his hand. You were the woman, his niece and nephew’s art teacher, Miss Sugar. The last time he saw you was when he picked up the kids, and since then, you have been a fleeting but persistent presence in his mind. 

Whatever insult he had ready to go vanished. 

You could play your music as loud as you wanted to. That was a problem for your neighbors to deal with, anyway. 

You descended the stairs and stopped in front of what he assumed was your car—a sedan he was sure had seen better days. It looked like it was on its last leg. When you popped your trunk open, you glanced in his direction and finally saw him.

Your eyes widened. He waved.

“Hey!” you greeted, your voice higher than usual. You cleared your throat and lugged the paint cans into your car. “You’re Jackson and Josie’s uncle, right? Rafe Cameron?”

Before he could stop himself, he smiled. You remembered.

“That’s me.” Rafe approached you, stopping just a foot away. “Miss Sugar?” 

You grinned, the corners of your eyes wrinkling. “So formal,” you teased. That alone had his cheeks feeling warm. “I’m outside work. Please, just call me Sugar.”

He wondered if that was your real name. It could be a nickname. Either way, it suited you—sweet and addictive. 

“If you insist, Sugar.” 

Your eyes narrowed, and you asked, “So, what are you doing here?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Are you stalking me?”

His blood ran cold. “What? No—”

You held up a hand to stop his ramblings, laughing, “Calm down, I’m joking.”

He scoffed. You were going to give him a heart attack one day. 

Rafe scratched his brow and then eyed the green and blue paint cans. “You gonna do some painting?” he assumed, nodding toward them.

“Yeah. A mural for the school,” you clarified, turning around to shut your trunk, steel hitting steel. “Also, you never answered my question.”

He licked the inside of his cheek. “Right, I’m just visiting,” he answered plainly. When nothing else was said, you gestured for him to elaborate further. You were nosy like Josie. “I designed Kildare Retreats.”

Your brows raised, and your lips parted in surprise. But that all muddled into a look of confusion the longer you stared at him. He watched the frown on your face deepen until your eyes flickered with recognition, a lightbulb appearing over your head.

“Cameron Development,” you said, snapping your fingers. “It’s literally on the entrance sign—I don’t know how I didn’t put that together.”

Amused, he chuckled. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, it’s really nice,” you praised, craning your neck to stare at the apartment building behind you. Rafe wondered if you genuinely liked it or were just being polite. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were the latter. “You guys did a great job.”

“Thank you,” he replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

And for a moment, there was silence. 

The song that blasted from your apartment carried through the parking lot. You were beautiful in the sunlight, your hair fluttering in the wind. Nothing captured his attention like you did. Rafe knew he was staring, but you were staring at him, too. Your gaze roamed his face like a gentle caress, and he swore you could see right through him.

“Do you have time?”

Your voice brought him back to reality. “What?”

“I just, uh, I’d like some help transferring the rest of my things into my car,” you explained, your hands smoothing down your jeans. “If you’re up for it, of course.”

Rafe glanced at his watch. He still had time. “Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

“Great!” you beamed as you motioned him to follow you. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

After many flights of stairs later, you led him to your apartment. Through the booming music, Rafe heard bed creaks followed by an over-the-top pornographic moan from next door. His lips curled in distaste. No wonder your speaker was on full blast. 

Once you opened your door, sunlight bleeding into the space, he was greeted with a mess. It's not a gross, rotting mess. Just disorganized. Your brain probably looked like this, too. The coffee table in the living room was cluttered with stacks of paper with yellow sticky notes that said ‘STUDENT WORK :)’ slapped on top. Boxes hugged the walls, newspapers were beneath a freshly painted canvas, and paintbrushes were stuffed in a cup near the kitchen sink. 

It was a sight, for sure.

“Sorry ‘bout the mess,” you said over the music, stepping aside to let him in. “I’ve been doing more painting than cleaning.” 

Rafe tried to appear indifferent, but Sarah always told him he was never good at hiding his feelings. He shrugged, “Nah, you’re good.”

Your chin dipped hollowly to your chest, and you kicked a small box out of your way. You must have caught his bluff. Oh, well. At least, he tried. 

He looked around your apartment, his gaze lingering on the framed pictures of what he assumed to be your parents. A heavy feeling weighed on his chest. He forgot what it was like to have parents. But the sound of your grunts caught his attention, and he saw you hunched over and dragging a storage bin toward him.

“Can you carry this, please?” With a huff, you dropped the bin next to his feet. “Just be careful. It’s pretty heavy, so—”

Rafe picked it up with ease. You clamped your mouth shut.

“Never mind,” you said, your eyes falling to his arms, chest rising as you sucked in a breath. “You’re, uh, very strong.”

His lips twitched at your unabashed stare. Though, your gaze was more innocent than anything. A look of admiration as opposed to lust. You eventually turned on your heel and walked into a closet.

“You got any new projects you’re working on?”

Rafe adjusted his hold on the bin. “Yeah,” he answered, “a couple of studios in Figure Eight.”

As he approached the closet, you suddenly poked your head out the doorway and asked, “Figure Eight’s Northside, right?” When he nodded, you disappeared behind the wall again. “I’m still trying to get used to your guys’ lingo.”

Your words replayed in his head. So, you hadn’t lived in Kildare for that long. That explained why you were so friendly with him. You didn’t know his history.

You came out with a rolled-up tarp in your arms, your lips pursed in thought. “What kind of studios?” 

“It’ll be up to the tenant what they wanna do with the space.” Rafe looked you up and down, his head tilting. “Why?”

The smile on your face faded into something less genuine. “I’ve always wanted an art studio,” you said, the music almost drowning out your voice, “but I don’t have the money for it.”

“We can work something out,” he offered, his mouth working faster than his brain. 

You stared at him, doe-eyed. “Really?”

Rafe chuckled, “Of course.”

He saw your gentle eyes harden, analyzing him, searching for a speck of insincerity. You looked at him like everyone else had his whole life—like he was just some fuck up you couldn’t trust. It made him nervous, worried that you were starting to see that, too. But soon enough, you returned to your sweet and unknowing self, smiling. 

“Alright, well, c’mon,” you ushered, striding past him to disconnect your phone from the speaker. 

The music cut off abruptly, and your neighbors were louder than ever. You didn’t seem fazed by it, though. He wondered if this was a daily occurrence for you. 

You stepped outside. “I don’t wanna waste more of your time.”

Once he followed you out, Rafe waited while you locked up your place. His eyes trailed to your neighbor’s door, their moans having turned into screams of ecstasy. Intense and raw and unnecessarily loud. He might as well be in the room with them. 

“I should've put better soundproofing for these apartments,” he mused, his brows pinching together.

When you looked at him, you frowned and tilted your head, “What makes you say that?”

He huffed, a smile creeping on his face at your feigned ignorance. You bumped your shoulder into him as you walked past him, and the brief interaction made him forget about the ache beginning to settle in his arms. 

It didn’t take long for you both to descend the stairs and return to your car. You opened the rear door and plopped the tarp onto the floorboard. He did as he was told and set the storage bin on the backseat, and you buckled it into place.

You clasped your hands, grinning, “Thank you so much for your help.”

“No problem.” 

Rafe could hear the birds, the rustling leaves, the vehicles that drove by, and how the asphalt crunched beneath your shoes when you stepped toward your car to close the door. His mind was quiet around you.

“Oh, about that art studio—” He took out his wallet, retrieved his business card, and handed it to you, “—I’m just a call away.”

You glanced at the card, reading the information before taking it. “Okay, CEO, I see you,” you mumbled teasingly. “Thanks again.”

He smirked, stashing his wallet away in his pocket. “Don’t be a stranger, Sugar,” he said, echoing the words you had exchanged when you first crossed paths. 

Your smile widened, the apples of your cheeks lifting. “I won’t,” you promised, genuine sincerity dancing in your eyes as they dropped to the card for a split second. “Have a nice day, Rafe."

He nodded. “You too.”

And as he walked back to his car, he couldn’t help but get one last look at you. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that you were already in the driver’s seat, and your gaze met his through the rearview mirror. He immediately looked forward, rubbing the back of his neck.

Rafe had a terrifying realization: he would do anything to keep you around longer.

sunnie speaks! IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! i'm sorry it took so long; i've been busy w school </3 but i love my babies sm so i hoped you guys enjoyed reading!!! let's chat about rafe cameron / teacher!reader

if you like my work, consider following my library blog (@sunniefics) to be notified of all my future fics!

TAGLIST:  @rluvsr @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @larvalerius @rafesheaven

[fandomgeeknerd]

incorrect group

dr robotnik: Rules are made to be broken. sonic: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. tails: Uh, piñatas. amy: Glow sticks. knuckles: Karate boards. shadow: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. dr robotnik: Rules. sonic:

*Squad reactions to being told ‘I love you’* dr robotnik: Thanks fam! sonic: oh no tails: *cries* I love you too amy: Sounds fake but okay knuckles: *A flustered mess* shadow: can i get a refund

dr robotnik: Screams sonic: Screams louder to establish dominance tails: Should we do something? amy: No, I want to see who wins.

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker* dr robotnik: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Everyone: stone: ...I did. I broke it. dr robotnik: No. No you didn't. tails? tails: Don't look at me. Look at amy. amy: What?! I didn't break it. tails: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken? amy: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken. tails: Suspicious. amy: No, it's not! knuckles: If it matters, probably not, but sonic was the last one to use it. sonic: Liar! I don't even drink that crap! knuckles: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier? sonic: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, knuckles! stone: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, doctor. dr robotnik: No! Who broke it!? Everyone: knuckles: dr robotnik... tails's been awfully quiet. tails: rEALLY?! *Everyone starts arguing* dr robotnik, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it. dr robotnik: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. dr robotnik: dr robotnik: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

dr robotnik, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here. stone: Hey. tails: Hi. amy: Hello. knuckles: Hey! dr robotnik: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! sonic: We were out of Doritos.

The squad is over at dr robotnik's house stone: Ohhhh, we each get our own oven? dr robotnik: … N-No… dr robotnik, laughing: How many ovens do you think I have??? stone, motioning to their kitchen: Three, I thought! tails: I see a- dr robotnik, motioning to one device: This is a microwave. stone: Oh, well I- dr robotnik: Hey wait wait, actually- hang on- fiddles with the buttons on the microwave dr robotnik, amazed: Its got a bake setting! amy: Ohoho, you learn something new every day! knuckles: Do we- Do we roshambo for who gets to pick first? dr robotnik: Now I've just discovered I have more ovens than I thought, we don't have to roshambo nothin! dr robotnik: I am someone who owns four ovens… dr robotnik, louder and way too happy: I am someone… who owns FOUR OVENS… dr robotnik: I didn't know I was so rich with ovens… sonic, pointing to another appliance: Also the toaster oven! dr robotnik: stone: Ohhh, toasty boy! Four- Five ovens! dr robotnik: dr robotnik, fucking ECSTATIC: I AM SOMEONE WHO OWNS FIVE OVENS

[amemoryofwot]

In regards to WoT show Liandrin I think there's a certain point where a character in a show needs to portray concepts that are otherwise lore or exposition. Like, the writers didn't do so much with her because they think she's Super Neat in the books or something, but because as a relatively one noted early intro character she's in a convenient place to tackle some Stuff onto. Some examples I can think of are:

The Vileness - as this is like one of my personal fave WoT topics I YELLED at her intro in the very first episode. It's the Vileness!!! She's hunting down and Gentling men unsanctioned without a trial! She only has Reds with her there, and it's so completely different to the procedure for Logain where she has the Greens. She even put them into a position where they felt they had to Gentle Logain early, I maintain that she slipped that shield for a fraction of a second.

The ability of the Black Ajah to lie - The rewatchability of the show remains peak, it's super fun to see all the places she's definitely lying, bringing into play that hidden Black Ajah wild card of Being Able to Say Anything. Again, the first intro scene, where the critics were so pressed she misrepresented the taint. Ah yes, famously man hating Black Ajah Liandrin just might have something to say about that, yeah.

The unnaturally long lifespan of a channeler in relation to others - Watching your child age and die is a pretty horrific consequence of this, and one example is enough to explain why none of the other women have children either. This does get verbalized in the books but again showing examples is going to be more impactful in a visual medium than someone saying it out loud.

Black Ajah recruitment - I don't know whether she truly thought she would get Nynaeve as a Black, certainly at least she thought she could argue her into the Red (why Heal the aftereffects when you can go after the cause?) but it does show there is a recruitment process involved. Albeit in the books it seems to be limited to capturing a person and demanding they swear to the Dark or they will be killed, the show has at least tried to provide some hot nuance with Liandrin, Min, Dana, etc. You can argue RJ had some clear cut ideas of what made a Darkfriend (petty, selfish, etc) but these are human emotions in general, the world for the most part isn't divided into a subsection of Bad People that only have these emotions. Plus some of RJ's ideas of what a Good Person is (namely, self-sacrificing) isn't always, uh, good.

The general idea that Darkfriends may appear helpful or good, but have a secret agenda - when the eps first came out there was a lot of pushback that Liandrin got some of Siuan's scenes. I think this was all to entirely sell us on Liandrin is On Our Side Actually, because in the book it is actually hilarious how Min's like "hey gang I have a bad feeling" and then Liandrin shows up out of nowhere to whisk them away. Plus the scene with the sword and wrapping them up in Air and stuff is not really a great look. It was enough to seem like she's trying to help, but coming across in a really traumatic way that on hindsight of the betrayal makes it even more abusive. Now, we are constantly suspicious that other Aes Sedai may end up being secret Blacks

That the Forsaken have different agendas, and use Darkfriends to implement them - using one single character like Liandrin and shunting her from Ishamael to Lanfear (and ultimately to Moghedien) helps illustrate how the Forsaken work without giving away too many secret identities.

Anyways that's the one's I can think of now. Again truly the show is so efficient with its writing, practically every line has some lore or foreshadowing or twist to it, and expanding on these honestly somewhat flat characters is a really effective way to illustrate these concepts.