#and the village is cut off from the rest of the world because of it

[robo--homo]

kkob fae!au: the village of konoha is surrounded on all sides by twisting forests. The woods provide food, medicine, shelter- but they also take what's not carefully guarded. Never wander off the paths. To Obito, Rin and Kakashi, it's a whole host of terrifying wonders.

Insert the fae; Madara, or a kelpie, or who knows what. Bonus points they're in the woods taking on responsibilities they think they have to, trying to hunt, trying to destroy the dangers, trying to provide for the village. Obito awakens his family's True Sight just in time to realize Kakashi's going to be taken, and is left to beg and bargain to be taken in his stead.

Kakashi spends months searching for the faery that took him, Rin faithful at his side until it leads to her death at their hands, too.

Flash forward ten years: Kakashi has been all but convinced his childhood best friends died to any number of natural reasons, nevermind his certainty that it was all his fault. He doesn't really remember anymore, himself- he was gone for days at a time, and it's too easy for kids to get lost in the woods. Just one more tragedy on the small scale.

Until a masked stranger starts watching him from the edges of the trees.

[cursingtoji]

as requested, a longer version of this drabble

synopsis: geto spared one woman from the village he exterminated due to the pleading of mimiko and nanako, now he has to live in between preaching a world without non-sorcerers during the day and sleeping with one during the night; a dive into the mind of a conflicted man.

cw: canon events (no major spoilers), death topics, fem submissive reader x cult leader geto, smut, oral (m -> f), 1.6k words.

part 2

The day was horribly busy, on days like these, where he had to talk in front of a crowd for such a long time, then entertain donors, then eat curses, Geto can’t sleep due to the loud noise of his mind, he would probably sleep if he was in a equally loud environment, but, except for the sound of your soft breathing, the room has dead quiet.

Dead quiet.

Geto sits up, the cold air hitting his bare chest as he takes in the sight of the red temple across the open window, a ruffling makes him draw and narrow his eyes to the figure in his bed.

He remembers the day he first saw you, trying to sneak in the room where Mimiko and Nanako were locked in, he was in the process of exterminating the people in that village so he didn’t think twice when he grabbed you by your hair ready to let a curse rip you apart but the deafening sound of the girl’s scream stopped him, only then he noticed a bag with food that fell of your hands.

He could see from a distance, you were like the rest of them, a regular non-sorcerer and a few minutes ago he decided what he wanted.

A world free of non-sorcerers.

He can’t make an exception. He shouldn’t.

The twins had tears in their eyes. They’re young and his responsibility now, so a helping hand couldn’t be a sin. He could leave you for last. 

Somehow he finds in his heart to spare you, and once he consolidated his power as a leader, he took the three of you in, the girls only leave your side when he’s around, they don’t approach anyone else except the two of you.

The first week you were around sorcerers he could see the fear and confusion in your face. Nanako tugged his clothing and he squatted to listen as she whispered to him “She cannot see them”.

So he provided special glasses for you, one with cursed energy so you could see what people like you shouldn’t, and he made Nanako hand it to you as you slowly began to comprehend what the weird events around you actually were.

She should be thankful, she’s only alive because of me.

He thought about that constantly, especially when watching you smiling and minding your own business.

And you are grateful and respectful towards him, almost never making eye contact, just keeping your head down and only calling him “Geto-sama”, he appreciated that, you should know your place.

It’s only a matter of time before he grows fond of you too, with his influence and your submission, it didn’t take long before you were in his bed, being happy to serve him in any ways.

It’s a contradiction having you around, he knows it. A monkey.

You sleep so peacefully, he wonders if you understand how lucky you are to make it this far.

Tonight could be your last night on earth, how deserving are you to live in his ideal world? You have two little girls that adore you, is that enough? He could just tell them something awful happened.

His cold fingers trace the back of your neck, ghosting your cervical spine.

You fell off the stairs and broke your neck, so sad.

That’s believable, the temple has many stairs.

His index finds your pulsing point.

A man attacked you, another monkey, and cut your throat, how horrible.

His eyes drop to your rising chest.

You fell on the lake and drowned, a terrible accident.

There’s so many possibilities to get rid of you without them blaming Geto.

Warm fingers unexpectedly find his hand, your small hand covers his. Suguru feels his human side returning to him, the dark cloud over his head slowly fading away as you take his wrist and you turn your head to kiss his palm.

He feels like crying, confused and guilty.

The bedroom is dark enough for you to miss the look of despair in his eyes, he allows you to caress the veins in his forearms, tracing it all the way to his biceps until you find his neck with your arm completely extended. Suguru gives in to the light pressure you make, bringing him to lay back down with you. You kiss his shoulders, his chest, his neck.

He doesn’t feel worth your kisses.

Again the contradiction.

You kiss his jawline and he stops you with a hand over your lips, he doesn’t want you to feel the way his lips quiver, you don’t ask questions, just accept and kiss his palm again, holding it against your cheek.

Geto is hard on you sometimes, giving humiliating tasks such as cleaning up the remains of someone who wronged him or capturing a curse that will for sure attack you. As much as he sometimes thinks of creating a space between the girls and you, the little ones always find a way back, helping you clean while keeping a non-morbid conversation topic or helping bandage the scratches you got from the small but feisty cursed spirited you were assigned to.

Yet you never once complained, always bowing in obedience with a soft “Yes, Geto-sama” coming out of your lips.

He knows when to treat you well too, sometimes he knocks on your room at night, sometimes he sends someone to call you over to his. When his whole cult speech was over he would dismiss everyone except you, to be alone in the giant spacious room with him, he likes to take you there, where your quiet sounds of pleasure bounce through the walls and create an echo.

You’re good to him, not to his cause, to Geto-sama you’re useless, but to Suguru Geto you’re an anchor.

He returns your kisses, sucking on your clavicle then down the soft skin of your breasts, where he takes in one nipple and licks until it gets hard enough for him to gently bite on and make you gasp.

Your hands find his hair, his long soft locks, the same ones you brush ever so patiently when Mimiko and Nanako turn it into a mess of knots from braiding and tying tiny silicone elastics on, you don’t scold them, even if it means to stay hours with Geto trying to undo it afterwards. 

They will grow up to be spoiled.

But he also could never scold them like a father is supposed to, deep down he knows he won’t need to, they adore him, anything he’ll say they’ll do. 

They’re good kids, he supposes he owns it to you too.

Suguru leaves a wet trail of kisses down your body until he’s between your legs, he first starts by licking the surrounds of your clit teasing patiently as you get wetter, the sleepiness doesn’t allow you to protest or whine, only to close your eyes and take whatever he’s willing to give you while tangling your fingers in his hair.

When he finally gives your nub some attention in the form of sucking, your leg twitches, he squeezes it and places it over his shoulder, at this point he’s laying on his stomach vaguely thrusting his pelvis onto the mattress to relieve a bit of the aching in his cock he gets when eating you out.

He adds more tongue as he moves down your needy hole, which pulsates around nothing, Suguru hums nuzzling your glossy folds, the vibration goes straight to your hardened nub.

“Geto-sama” you moan when he fucks you with his tongue, the tip of his nose hits your clit perfectly, once he looks up to see you falling apart on him you shiver, his eyes are predatory, you wonder if you should retrieve your hand from his head, but he quickly closes them again, losing himself in the taste of you. God, you taste so good. What makes him get through the day when he has to absorb those disgusting curses is the thought of getting lost between your legs, sucking your nipples, eating his own cum off you, sucking your tongue…

He feels your orgasm approaching as you tug his locks harder, whimpering softly. Usually he would make you beg, stopping his ministrations just before you get there and delaying it until there are tears in your eyes. Tonight he’s enjoying the silence, he might just let you go ahead, but there’s something he wants to hear.

“Say my name” he orders with a raspy voice.

“Get—“

“No” he bites your inner thigh, “My actual name.”

“Suguru” you roll his name so beautifully on your tongue.

“Keep saying it” he dives back, making out with your pussy and paying extra attention to your puffy clit as you call his name in a prayer.

He misses it, the way his first name used to be used, nowadays is just “Geto-sama this, Geto-sama that, master, sir”. It would inflate his ego if it didn’t come out of monkeys' mouths.

But Suguru? He left that for you only, even the other sorcerers he considers family just call him Geto.

Before he realizes you’re already cumming, hole pulsating around his tongue and heels digging on his back. He slows down his pace, nibbling on your glossy lips then taking your hand out of his hair to kiss it like you did earlier, the act makes your heart swell, you caress his face, thumb rubbing the dark circles under his eyes.

“Suguru” you call his name again, this time looking straight in his eyes, they don’t seem predatory anymore as he moves up finding a safe spot on your chest, where he lays down listening to your heartbeat as your fingers work through the knots in his hair, this time caused by yourself. Your other hand caresses his back and shoulders, whatever skin you can find to soothe him. Now he doesn’t have the loud voices in his head and bitter taste in his mouth and manages to fall asleep again.

part 2 ->

[flametrashiraarchive]

hi may I ask for

pussy drunk muzan please♡

Alright, look... I'm absolute trash for Muzan at the moment. I already thought he was hot and then that last Swordsmith Village episode just... ugh... I love him.

Anyway, I couldn't resist answering this right away. I've also done headcanons for human Muzan and demon Muzan because I'm a hussy for him.

NSFW below the cut.

He may be wealthy, but Muzan's life is far from comfortable. He hurts; he's angry, frustrated, he resents the world. Physical activity is hard on his body but the man still has needs.

Human Muzan

You enter his room when summoned, hopeful that the doctor has given him good news this time.

"Of course not. That fraud only deals in disappointments."

"I'm sorry..."

"Keep your worthless pity. Just... come here."

You approach his futon and gently take his extended hand. His grip is weak and unsteady. "Yes my lord?"

He arches an eyebrow, knowing that you're aware of what he wants.

So you get into position, lying sideways across the top of his futon so your hip is resting where he would lay his head. You lift your skirt and open your legs so he can rest his head on your inner thigh as he lies on his side.

Muzan doesn't speak a word. He doesn't praise you, doesn't thank you. He just inches his head closer and begins to lick your pussy.

You bite your lip to keep from crying out. If you make too much noise he'll scold you and stop, so you do all you can to remain silent. Muzan Kibutsuji is the only man you've ever met who eats your pussy solely for his pleasure.

He tongues your hole, lapping at your essence as if it could cure him, his deep groans vibrating through you as he feasts. And when he's licked up every drop, only then does he turn his attention to your clit, slowly circling it with his tongue, enjoying the way it swells from his attention, stopping when he feels you're wet enough again and turning his attention back to your cunt.

He goes back and forth between the two motions, taking you to the edge of ecstasy again and again until you cum. His long, dark hair splays across your thighs as he fucks you with his tongue and palms his cock. He strokes himself slowly, setting a pace which isn't too strenuous for him, and all the while he continues licking your overstimulated clit in those long, slow circles, making your muscles tighten with every torturous lap.

He keeps going, his groans getting louder as he makes you cum once more and he keeps on stroking his cock.

"Mm-more," he moans, his deep, commanding voice cracking with desperation. "Nghh... give it... to me."

His composure breaks entirely as he shudders through his orgasm, his eyes squeezed shut as he sucks your clit, tonguing it to get you off one last time.

The doctors confirmed long ago that Muzan cannot produce heirs, but that doesn't stop him from fingering his cum into your pussy, making sure you take in every last drop of it before he lifts his head and says flatly. "I'm finished. You may leave."

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

Demon Muzan.

Muzan appears accompanied by the sudden strum of a biwa, standing behind his work desk. "Get over here. Assume the position."

Thick veins throb in his forehead and his crimson eyes are murderous.

Either the upper moons have pissed him off again, or his latest experiment to reproduce the blue spider lily potion has gone awry. And when he's in a rage like this only one thing that can calm him.

You climb onto his desk on your hands and knees and put your chest down, sticking your ass in the air toward him.

"See? My requests are so simple and yet you are the only one who seems capable of obeying them." He slides a finger down your slit, spreading your growing wetness. "You bow for your king as you should."

"Because I-"

"Silence."

A low, primal growl rolls from the depths of his chest as he leans forward until his face is no more than an inch from your pussy. And then he inhales.

That's all the warning you get before he drags his tongue slowly from your clit down to your hole with a deep groan.

"Oh, you never disappoint me," he whispers, though whether he's speaking to you or that specific part of you, you aren't certain.

He starts with small, fluttering licks, teasing your sensitive flesh with the tip of his tongue. But before long he can't hold back, and his licks become frantic and sloppy, devouring you with fervent hunger.

Outside of this room he appears cold, calculating, elegant and distinguished, but you bring out an all together different sort of beast.

"Muzan!" You bite your knuckles to keep from crying out and incurring his wrath.

He grips the backs of your thighs and parts your folds with his thumbs, pushing his tongue deeper into you. His wanton moans fill the room as he drags his tongue over your flesh again and again. You can't hold back from crying out in pleasure as you cum, your pussy throbbing with ecstasy as he continues eating you.

As a demon, he has the strength to fuck you like he always wished he could as a human. At the sound of your desperate cry, the last remnant of his restraint snaps. He stands, licking your essence from his lips as he thrusts his cock inside you, shivering at the sensation before he starts to pump his hips back and forth.

His elegant fingers dig into your hips as he holds you in place, burying himself to the hilt inside you and fucking you with short, fast thrusts, keeping your cunt stuffed full of him.

"Oh... oh... yes..." he grunts beneath his breath.

He pulls out only to push two fingers into you, pumping them back and forth before he takes them out again and stuffs his cock back in. And as he fucks you harder, faster, he brings those fingers to his mouth and sucks the taste of you from them.

That's enough to send him over the edge; your exquisite taste accompanied by the sensation of your needy cunt squeezing his cock. His back arches as he cums, baring his teeth as he fills you.

His breath is hot and heavy as his lips graze your shoulder blades.

"Such a good and obedient servant," he whispers, his hair falling over his brow.

And then he straightens his back, regains his composure, and disappears once more, accompanied by the strum of a biwa.

[mavrintarou]

[3:50PM] Suna x Y/n x Sakusa

Did you guys watch Japan Men's volleyball? They were so close... their loss was heartbreaking. Quickly whipped this up because it was fresh on my mind.

Warning: angst, reality, and smut

.

Tears pricked your eyes and they slipped before you could try to blink them away. It tore your heart watching your boys devastated at their loss and elimination.

You tried to spot the two people closest to your heart, Kiyoomi and Rintarou.

You found Kiyoomi sitting at the chairs on the sideline, zoned out. Rintarou was pulled into a hug, his head buried into the assistant coach’s embrace with the collar of his jersey pulled up to cover his face.

.

You waited for the boys to leave the locker room, one by one they came out. Shocked expressions by each one as they spot you waiting outside.  

You had not planned to come to Paris to watch them so they were not expecting you at all. But something in you told you to fly out, and you did.

Their game against Italy was challenging and they worked hard together to win, but unfortunately, they couldn’t succeed.

“Y/n!” Atsumu called when he spotted you, and hurried over to give you a bear hug.

“You were amazing ‘Tsumu,” you pat his back. His eyes are still red from crying. “Go rest now and let’s cheer on the other teams.”

He pulled back, “does Suna know you’re here?”

You shook your head.

“Explains why he was so moody, I overheard him saying something about not being able to get a hold of you before the game.”

You’re pained with guilt. You didn’t tell him but you had texted him a few hours prior, sending him good wishes for his next match.

Concern flashed on Atsumu’s face, he looked behind his shoulder before leaning down to whisper, “I think they’re still in the locker room.”

You knew who he was referring to. Before you can respond, the men’s locker room door swings open and Kiyoomi walks out, stopping abruptly when he notices you and Atsumu.

“I’m going to head back to my room,” Atsumu presses a kiss to your temple, “thanks for coming.”

You stare at Kiyoomi in silence. He stares at you as if he can’t believe that you are standing before him. He slowly makes his way to you, cautiously and hesitantly.

You sigh and open your arms wide, whispering, “come here.”

With long strides, drops his bag to the ground and you’re wrapped in his embrace seconds later.

Kiyoomi buried his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder and you felt his body tremble.

Your eyes shut tightly, his embrace expressed everything that was within him. His loss, his pain, and his sadness. Volleyball is Kiyoomi’s world, it’s all he knows.

“You did well, Omi. You did well,” you whispered rubbing his back.

His arms tighten around you.

It hurt your heart to feel so much in his hug.

When you two were dating, Kiyoomi had never given you a hug like this before.

“Y/n?”

You pulled away and turned to see Rin standing exactly where Kiyoomi was moments ago.

His duffel bag drops at his feet and he raises his arms for a hug.

Your breath hitched and without a glance at Kiyoomi, you moved, running into Rin’s embrace.

.

You finish cutting off the skin of the apple and slice it into pieces, cutting the core off. “Rin?” you called, slightly looking over your left shoulder.

“You came,” he whispered, hugging you tightly. He pulled away and looked down at you, “were you there at our game?”

You nod, indicating you witness their devastating loss. Rin nodded, you can still see that his eyes were puffy from crying. “You did well, Rin,” you whispered, leaning to press his forehead against yours. “I’m proud of you.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a quick but deep kiss. “Where are you staying? Let’s go back to your place.”

“Aren’t you restricted at the Olympic Village?” You say, “I don’t want you to get in –“

“We’re already eliminated, I don’t believe we need to stay in that garbage hellhole anymore,” he pulls away but doesn’t let your hand go. He bends to pick up his bag and leads you away.

You only noticed then that Kiyoomi was long gone.

You guys made it back to your hotel and Rin has been glued to you, refusing to let you go or be away more than a minute.

Sitting down on the couch, he insists on sitting behind you, with you in between his long legs. He hugs you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning against your back.

Rin’s love language with you is physical touch and quality time. He always has to have a part of him to be touching you. Whether it be holding your hand or your fingers or hand on your thigh. Regardless, a part of him has to be touching you at all times. Rin enjoys doing random things together just so he can take photos of you two.  

He was much different from Kiyoomi, whose love language was words of affirmation and acts of service. Kiyoomi’s voice wasn’t loud but his words vehement. He didn’t speak often but when he did, he said the sweetest things. When Kiyoomi struggles to get his words out, he writes to you, in a poetic way that makes you cry. You feel his love through his words. He didn’t like being touched as much but he showed his affection by doing small minor things for you such as carrying the bags of groceries and making sure you walked on the inner side of the sidewalk and away from the oncoming vehicles.

After almost three years of dating, but knowing each other for most of your life since childhood, you and Kiyoomi had decided to break it off. He wanted to focus on his career and was looking to join a team abroad to enhance his volleyball career. He didn’t want to have a long-distance relationship and did not want to waste your time.

Though it hurt you terribly, you did not want to hold him back and in the end, wished him well.

It was a year later when fate brought you and Rintarou together. You hesitate to get involved with him knowing he reminded you of Kiyoomi, at least the dark hair, the tall physique, and that they played professional volleyball. You also didn’t want to risk Kiyoomi and Rintarou knowing each other or running into Kiyoomi in the volleyball community.

Your heart was still healing.

Rintarou was persistent, sweet, and funny, and as much as he reminded you of Kiyoomi physically, their personality was the opposite.

“I can’t,” your voice choked as you tried to blink away the tears. This was the fifth date he’s taken you out on and the second time he’s asked you to be his girlfriend. You’ve turned him down the first time and two weeks later, Rin asked you out for a date again, saying it will be the last one.  You expected him to ask the question again and were prepared to be transparent with him. “You have been kind and sweet to me, Rin. But I will not be fair to you because my heart is still healing and I don’t want you to be any rebound because you remind me of my ex-boyfriend.”

He wasn’t fazed at your response, if not, it was as if he expected it. “Give me the opportunity to change your mind, give me the chance, that’s all.” He took a step, closing the remaining distance between you two, and cupped your face. “I’m so smitten by you. You are beautiful, so damn beautiful that you are all I see day and night since the first day I met you. Give me a chance, Y/n. You won’t regret it.”

Your mind and logic screamed yes. Yes, that was what you wanted and you wanted to be with Rin. Or see where it could go.

But your heart spoke a soft no.

Inhaling and exhaling, you gaze into Rin’s hopeful eyes that are waiting for your response.

You cannot allow your lingering feelings for Kiyoomi to control you, to jeopardize any opportunities.

“Okay,” you breathed, “I’ll be your girlfriend but you have to give me patience and grace to make mistakes and navigate to something completely new because… I’m still healing.”

Rin smiled and nodded, “okay, patience and grace, I can give you that too.” His hands grip your waist firmly, “I’ll give you everything you want and everything you need.”

You were about to pull out of his embrace and adjust him on the couch when he tightened his hold. “Rin?”

“Do you still love him?”

Though Rin never bothered to ask you who your ex-boyfriend was, you knew that he knew it was Sakusa Kiyoomi. The Japanese volleyball world was small and everyone knew each other.

You exhale softly and pry his grip around your waist so you can turn around to look at him. “I spent over half my life loving and caring for Kiyoomi.” You reach and cup his cheek, “but I’m not in love with him anymore, it’s you. I’m in love with you, Rin.” You feel him relax under your touch and he closes his eyes, nuzzling into your palm. “Does that answer your question?”

He hums and leans forward to rest his head on your shoulder. “Every time I see him, I can’t help but feel jealous of your past, part of your life you spent with him…” He paused, “I feel and sound childish but I remind myself that he had your past while I have your future.”

You lift his head so you can look into his eyes, “correct, I can’t change my past. Kiyoomi has my past but you have my future, I’m giving you my future.” You stand up so you can push him down on the couch, “I am sorry if I made you feel anxious when you saw me hugging him.” You paused, “I… I don’t know what overcame me to hug him but I assure you that it was just a hug, nothing more. It was just a comforting hug as old friends.” You exhale, attentive to his reaction. You don’t want Rin to doubt you, doubt your relationship with him. “I’m bringing this up because I don’t know how I would react if our roles were switched if I saw you hugging your ex-girlfriend. It was thoughtless of me but I want to clarify that the hug was just a comfort hug and it won’t happen again because I don’t want you to ever doubt my love for you.”

When he doesn’t speak, you inhale and say, “sleep, you need it.”

He wraps a hand around your wrist, “sleep with me.”

You glance at the couch, “I don’t think it’ll fit the both of us.”

“You can sleep on top of me… or below me,” he wiggles his brows.

You shake your head, a smile on your lips. “Let’s move to the bed, it’ll be more comfortable there.”

“Now, we’re talking,” he quickly got up and threw you over his shoulder, heading to the bed.

.

You finished your novel on your Kindle when you finally set it down with a sigh. The sun has gone down and your hotel room is now dark with dim light that came from the city night.

“Sleep,” you ordered, pointing at the bed when you both made it to the bedroom. Your tone left no exception for him to argue. You can see he needed sleep.

Rin pouted but he obeyed. “Fine.”

He snuggled against you, laying his head on your chest, and slept for the last three hours.

He began to stir just as you were about to shift beneath him. Groaning, he stretches his long limbs and tightens his grip around you, nuzzling into your breasts. “My favorite place…”

You let out a scoff and run your fingers through his messy hair. “You’re crazy sometimes, you know?”

“Crazy for you,” he corrects, lifting his head. Shifting, he leans to press a kiss to your lips. “Did you read the entire time I was out?”

You nod, the time zone difference played a part. You couldn’t sleep even if you wanted to.

“Was your book good?”

You nod, “and spicy.”

The corner of his mouth curved. “I need some spice too.” His fingertips slide into your shirt, slowly inching up your belly until it reaches right below your breasts. “I’m hungry, Y/n. For you,” he whispered, lips hovering over yours. “Please, feed me…”

Rin shifts over you, your shirt has risen to your torso, exposing your belly and your sports bra. To tease you further, he drags his hand down until it slips inside the waistband of your lounging pants and panties.

Your breath hikes as his finger pad circles at your clit and then dips past your folds and a single finger slips into your pussy. Your eyes squeeze shut and you widen your legs, giving him more access.

“Did your spicy novel make you this wet?”

Your eyes snap open and you nod your head, a smile on your lips.

He clicks his tongue and slips another finger into your hole. “Did they do this in your novel too?”

“Y – yes…” You rocked your hips to his fingers.

Rin called your name and you look up into his eyes, “you didn’t answer me, are you going to feed me?” he retrieves his fingers and stuffs them into his mouth, sucking them.

“Yes, Rin,” you granted him approval, “have your feast.”

Your lower garments were gone instantly and Rin pulled you up to tug off your top and bra. He sits back and strips his clothing before attacking you with a heated kiss.

Your limbs wrap around his body as he fits himself between your legs, his cock pressing against your pussy. His cock which was leaking precum at the tip was rubbing against your pussy, smearing all.

“Rin…”

“Just tonight,” he whispers against your lips. “Just tonight let me completely have you, make you mine, and I’ll take care of you.”

Your heartbeat quickens and you're left to make a decision that could change your entire future.

Suna Rintarou was someone you could see a future with, who would take care of you, respect you, and love you.

“Okay,” you breathed, “anything you want.”

He grins widely and you don’t have a second to smile before he’s sliding home. Into your pussy. Raw.

You were not on the pill and relied on condoms.

You were making love to Rin without a condom.

Whimpers escape your lips, it feels different… more intimate….

Rin felt the same, his jaw dropped as his eyes squeezed shut. “Y/n…” he choked. His hips began moving at a slow pace that steadily increased. “So good… so good baby…” he repeats. He holds his weight above you, his necklace, a dog tag, you got him for your first anniversary dangle over you. It had your anniversary date engraved on it with your name. Something cheesy but he had brought it up once to you that he wanted a dog tag after watching the film with you that the main character wore one as a token of his love for his woman.

The wooden bedframe creaked louder and banged into the wall each time Rin thrust inside you.

“Your pussy feels so soft… warm…”

“Faster, Rin…” you grip his waist, digging your nails into his skin. “I’m so cl – close…”

Rin hugs you, pressing you onto the mattress and his hips quicken, bringing you both to your release.

His breath quickens along with his thrusts and you find your release just seconds before him. You moan, feeling his cock tremble and jerk inside you, filling you with his cum.

He came inside you.

Your first instinct is to run to the pharmacy and get a Plan B pill.

Rin showers your face with kisses, distracting you.

“Y/n,” he calls your name lovingly. He sat up and looked down where your bodies were intimately joined. Gently, he eases out of you reaches for the tissue box, and wipes the dripping fluid.

He got off the bed, tossing the used tissues in the garbage bin. “One second,” he mutters and leaves the room. He returns, with his right hand behind his back.

You refrain from getting distracted by his naked body in front of you. “Rin?” He just stands in the middle of the room, silent and nervous.

You crawl over to the edge of the bed and stand on your feet ready to go to him when he drops down one knee, making you freeze.

“Y/n,” he finds your eyes, and his right hand is thrust up to you and his palm is an open red box, with a beautiful diamond ring. He watches your expression before asking, “Y/n, I love you with all that I am. You have shown me the light in my life and I don’t want to be without you ever again. I will spend the rest of my life to make you happy, to walk alongside you through it all, through thick and thin, through the good and the bad.” He swallows and clears his throat, “please, marry me.”

“Oh Rin,” you choke and throw yourself at him, knocking him backwards. He catches himself with his left hand. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He collapses on his back on the wooden floor, naked as he hugs you.

You both remain still and silent for a few seconds before you lift yourself and press your lips to his.

He moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss, grabbing your left hand and slipping the ring onto your finger before bringing it to his lips. “Mrs. Suna, I love the sound of that.”

“You carried the ring with you here?” You lean back, straddling his waist and admiring the ring.

“Yes, it was the thing that gave me strength to do well.” He covers his eyes with both hands. “I was going to propose to you if we win gold…” his voice trails, “well, I’m going to propose anyway.”

You kiss him, smiling against his lips. “You don’t need to win gold, you’re already gold to me.”

The way he stared at you was equivalent to the emoji with heart eyes.

He lets out a loud breath. “That has been so heavy on my shoulders and you…” his limbs spread eagle wide, “she said yes!” he shouted as if he had finally been freed from a cage.

You giggle and lean down to kiss him, “thank you for asking me to marry you.” You can’t stop smiling. “I’m – I’m excited for our next journey together.”

Rin’s fingers thread through your hair and bring your lips to meet his. “Me too. Now, let's get off this floor and get back on that bed and celebrate again.”

. . .

[3rd POV]

Y/n’s phone chimed and he reached for her phone without stirring her.

She was deeply asleep after their many rounds of lovemaking.

Looking at her screen, Rin narrows his eyes seeing a preview of the message.

It was from Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Can we meet up?

I just miss you so much.

I need to speak to you.

The audacity of this man, Rin cursed in his head.

In his arms, Y/n shifts but falls back asleep.

Contemplating on going into her phone and deleting the message weighed heavily on his mind. But he decided not to. He will let Y/n make that decision.

After all, she has agreed to marry him now.

He was her future just as she is his future.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is her past and needs to stay there.

.

“I’ll see you in a few days,” Y/n said, “now go, go water my plants when you get to my place.” She tried to lighten up the mood.  

They didn’t have the same return flight. Due to the cost, Y/n had to return a few days later. Rin wanted to stay back and return with her but his coach denied his request.

“You’ll consider it?” He wants her to move in with him.

“Yes, I’ll consider it,” Y/n assured, turning him around in the direction of security. “Go.”

“Why are you so eager to get rid of me?” he whined, turning around but walking backward, holding onto her hand.

“I’m not, just trying… to not make it more difficult,” she said with a forced smile. “I’ll miss you. I love you, now go. I’ll see you soon.”

Stealing another quick kiss, he whispered, “don’t have too much fun without me.”

Y/n nods, “just going to read my next spicy novel and think about you.”

Rin groans, “stop, don’t give me blue balls for the next couple of hours.”

Y/n laughed, shoving him away. “Just go already.” But she quickly grabs him by the collar of his jacket and pulls him back, pushing herself up on her toes and kissing him. “I’ll think about you whenever I get to a spicy part.”

“Stop,” he warns, yet it comes out as a beg. “Okay, I’m going now.”

“I love you,” Y/n whispers just loud enough for him.

“I love you too.”

Rin held onto her hand until he had to go through security at the airport. He blew her a kiss and turned, heading into a restricted area.

.

Rin finds his seat in the first-class section and begins settling in for the long flight. He is about to put on his headphones and drown out the world when he overhears Miya’s voice.

“What? Omi isn’t flying out with us?”

“No, he got the approval from the coach to stay a few days longer.”

Atsumu turned his head and his eyes connected with Rin.

“Mother fucker,” Rin swears under his breath.

. . .

E/n: nothing edited, just wanted to get this out of my head before I lose it. It was hard choosing which one to play which role. I hurt my Omi in this one. The ending is up to you - I'm trying not to get carried away with too many parts lol

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[ereawrites]

Hey gurl✨ I’m in my wife era rn so maybe some Shisui and/or Tobirama husband/jealous husband hcs?🫣 I loooovee your writing and tbh your thoughts are my thoughts so no pressure😩 If you not feeling it feel free to ignore me babe🧚🏻‍♀️

YOU HAVE FED ME SO GOOD MISS GIRL! under the cut for length

shisui

this isn't too relevant but I have to include it. it's too cute. I definitely see shisui getting married pretty young, like early 20s. if he finds his person he's going for it. probably gets a lot of shit for it from his family, but he doesn't care

loooong honeymoon period. in part because they're still a young couple but also... shisui is just a really devoted husband. he loves the married life. insists on kissing her goodbye every morning, eating together every night, stuff like that

LOVES DECORATING THEIR HOUSE are u kidding me. let's say they get a kinda shitty place right after they get married, and put a tonne of work into doing it up. he gets so into painting, building the furniture, even starts up a little herb garden in their kitchen

finds so many ways to drop his wife into conversation lol. he's down bad even after the honeymoon period ends, so he wants to show her off. his FAV is when she swings by his workplace to bring him his 'forgotten' lunch. he turns around to the rest of the guys like. yeah. that's my WIFE. isn't she hot.

very much a believer in keeping the romance alive. he wants to keep making the effort with her until the day he dies. veryyyy good at remembering anniversaries, scheduling regular date nights, etc. always makes sure she has fresh flowers in the house

obviously it isn't all perfect though. especially while they're young (and presumably both still active, high-ranking shinobi) their schedules keep them apart a lot. and this hits shisui really hard tbh. he hates coming back to an empty home after a long mission, knowing he might not even see his wife before he has to leave again

work is probably where most of their arguments stem from, actually. I don't see it being a regular thing, but it's easy for resentment to build in those kinds of situations. shisui is very torn between his love for his village, and his love for his wife, and the fact he can't prioritise both. thankfully shisui is a good communicator so they make things work.

in terms of jealousy... I don't see it being a common thing. maybe before they get married he tends towards it a bit more, but once she's his wife, why would he worry? she's his entire world and he knows she loves him just as much

the only way I rly see him getting jealous at all is if they're going through a bit of a rough patch for the reasons mentioned above. maybe they haven't seen each other in weeks, and they both get back from a mission on the same day. and there's some kind of event/function that evening that they have to attend

so they barely have a chance to acknowledge each other, before they're pulled apart again by the crowd. so if shisui sees some random guy getting a little too close and flirty with her, he gets more annoyed than he'd like to admit

even then though.. he's not necessarily jealous as much as he is upset. like goddamn just let this poor man have his beloved wife to himself for a night. in this situation he's more likely to behave more rashly than usual, and he might just make some excuses and take her home lol. he gets a little bit pouty until she gives him some attention

overall, though, he's very chill. he trusts her implicitly, and expects the same from her. they need to have a very honest, respectful relationship if he's going to wife her up

god okay and in old age they're so cute together. I bet they have a bunch of kids (probably accidentally tbh lol) so then they end up with a whole squadron of grandchildren. he's that fun grandpa who sneaks them sweets when the parents aren't looking. all the grandbabies want to sleep over at their house. and they LOVE it.

to sum up: very good husband. very relaxed, communicates well, makes her feel loved every day. why did he have to die I want to throw myself off a bridge.

tobirama

first of all. good job to this woman. wrangling tobirama into marriage is not an easy job. he's so fucking ANNOYING. it probably takes him years to confess he even has feelings for her, let alone ask for her hand in marriage

but once he gets there. it's pretty cute. he doesn't really act very differently for the most part - he'd already decided his heart belonged to her well before they married, and wholly committed. so his behaviour doesn't change much, and there isn't much of a honeymoon period. sorry. he's like marriage is just a contractual agreement why would it change anything between us

he does make a few little indulgences though. he gets this smug little look every time he introduces her as his wife. he's actually just a lot more prone to 'showing her off' in general, and more likely to show some physical affection in public. for tobirama that's maybe a peck on the cheek lol. but it's progress

he's definitely a lot.... gentler?idk. with her once they're married as well. he makes an effort to be more patient and less snippy, and shows his appreciation for her in a lot of quiet little ways. for example, he'll be sure to leave work on time no matter how busy it is if he knows she's putting a lot of effort into dinner that night. or if she spends a second too long looking at a new dress in the store, he's buying it for her

on that note. tobirama is such a provider once they're married. he does have that traditional idea of providing for his wife. he'll probably ask her if she wants to become a stay at home wife tbh. if she says yes, he still expects her to get out in the community of course. he'd love if she did volunteering work, maybe at the hospital or with kids or something. but he's also equally happy for her to keep working. power couple vibes very strong

they have a nice, quiet little house away from the village where no one bothers then and they loooove it. especially tobirama, his wife and their home are his sanctuary. everyone else gtfo

other than that, not much is really different from before their marriage. they probably actually lead quite independent lives, to the point where people don't even know they're married until tobirama drops it into conversation a few months later. they're very private and lowkey.

unfortunately for her, tobirama's paranoia also persists. he's a bit delulu sometimes lol and she knows this going in. but it does inevitably cause some issues, especially if she's headstrong (which is definitely the type of woman he ends up with)

he trusts his wife more than anything. he would never doubt her for a second. but other men? the enemy. not to be trusted. they're all dogs. it drives him absolutely batshit crazy to watch them ogling her, or god forbid trying to flirt with her. which is actually kinda common bc they're such a lowkey couple, so people assume she's single

tobirama isn't one to make a scene per se, but this definitely leads to a few awkward situations in public, and she probably ends up embarrassed a few times. and there's 10000% arguments behind closed doors. I don't see either of them being good with this lol. he acts like she's his political enemy he's ridiculous

but because he loves her so much, and he actually really wants to put work into the longevity of their marriage, he'll come around. he's a lot softer and more willing to compromise when it comes to her. but she can't point that out because he's mortified

over time, he chills out a lot more. they're one of those couples that just get stronger and better with time. they grow a lot together, and although they probably continue to disagree a lot throughout their marriage, it's always in a way that leaves their relationship stronger. and he only gets softer for her. people (hashirama) even start to point out how devoted he is and he can't even deny it. cute

overall a kind of difficult husband, because he is an exceptionally difficult man, but my god he loves her so much. he would do anything to make her happy.

[edgeray]

Hi ray

Could write dragon! Arlecchino x hunter! Reader who hunts dragon because she was tasked to even tho she didn't wish to do so but little did the reader know that arlecchino is very strong

So when the reader was tasked she was warned by the villagers but what could the reader do but to only obey the orders when the reader met arlecchino trying to hunt her down she failed to do so

Dragon Hunter Mother

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Like always, if you want to request something from me again anon, give yourself a name/emoji ☺️ Also, I love this idea. I don't plan out my requests, plot just kinda comes as I write, so let's see what I do with this. I'm assuming you also want reader to be afab as well. Since you didn't say about arlecchino having a human form, I'm just not going to write it. Don't ask me how this turned to be over the limit I said these requests were gonna be. I got carried away with world building and plot. Sorry 😬 . Hopefully this was okay? Honestly, didn't know how I would make it romantic, but I guess I'll put it under romantic? I tried by best anon, feel free to request again if you want me to write it in a different way 🫶. Sorry for taking so long, but here it is!  Content warnings / info - author doesn't know how to write dragons, semi-graphic violence, if it wasn't obvious, Freminet, Lyney, and Lynette make an appearance, 2.6k words 

Stemming from a long line of dragon hunters, it was no surprise that like the rest of your siblings, you would take up the mantle of also being a dragon hunter. Dragon hunting is a service to the kingdom exclusive to only a few noble families like yours, hence why its hunters are practically revered by the kingdom's citizens. Protecting the kingdom, receiving glory after every slaughter, earning a large chunk of the kingdom's money, it's no doubt that many aggrandize and covet to be in the same position. 

You've never wanted to be a dragon hunter. It's an arduous job in a kingdom known for its dragon outbreaks. The Majesty is prompt in requesting dragon hunters, sending them from one corner of the kingdom to the other unhesitatingly, and frequently underestimate the duration that these kill orders take. When the process of dragon hunting involves tracking the dragon, finding the dragon's sanctum, preparing to combat against a dragon, and finally, killing it, it takes at least a week if it's one of the older dragons. The Majesty has high expectations, and it's a struggle to keep up with them. Kill orders were often piled on top of one another, which means immediately after you complete one, it is off to finishing the next one.

It is a job of ruin. When was the last time you've gotten more than a few hours of sleep? The last time you've had a full meal? The last time you were able to have a relaxing bath? 

Killing dragons is not how you would like to waste away your life, slaving away under a duty that everyone idolizes. As you carry on your role, you begin to learn more and more about these flying reptiles; dragons are fascinating, intelligent creatures. It is a shame that many villagers are so terrified of them, dragons actively avoid humans; though for one reason or another, dragons occasionally seek the nearest human civilization, eating farm animals and destroying any shelter or barricade that stands in their way. Perhaps you're just foolish, but you believe that there is a real reason for this behavior, and that there could be a solution to this. 

Until then, you could do little more but heed each order, slaughtering dragon by dragon. Their dying cries plague your dreams every night, leaving you empty and restless. 

You arrive at a village, the emblem on your chest plate that indicates your occupation glints as you step out of the carriage. The village head greets you quickly, settling you down in front of a cup of tea and some snacks, before cutting straight to the details.

“This dragon… I'd be careful. I've heard of you, a genius among geniuses in terms of dragon hunting, but I warn you right now. This dragon is different. Smarter, more powerful than your typical one, I bet. Its fire… even among other dragons, isn't comparable. It can torch the whole village, and it got damn near close to. Cunning bastard as well, it can pinpoint where our sheeps are and it can evade our traps. It disappeared from our village a few decades… we assumed it died naturally, but then it returned again earlier this season.”

“When was the last time it attacked? Do you know what kind of dragon it is?”

“No. We’ve never seen a dragon like it before. I'm not sure if it follows under the kingdom's classifications. It's black and white with three pairs of wings! And its tail… sharp like, like…like a scythe, can slice houses in half! Its claws are just as dangerous too. Can breathe fire, of course.”

Three pairs of wings… that means this dragon is considerably old. Dragons gain pairs of wings after their first set through molting, which only occurs every fifty or sixty months following reaching maturity, meaning this dragon was at least a century old. You grimace. Older dragons are always harder to get rid of. Most of the dragons that you encounter only have one pair, on the rare occasion, two. This is the first time you've been assigned a three-paired dragon.

Its colorings are also strange; you've never heard of a black and white dragon specifically. The tail description, however, isn't very uncommon; it could be a signifier that this is an incredibly rare hybrid among dragon species. If it's as powerful as it's said, and if you consider its age, then perhaps they come from one of the Dynasty species… but a descendent of that species hasn't been seen in many years. If this is true, then of course it wouldn't follow under the kingdom's ordinary classifications of dragons. Still, a hybrid? Mating between different species almost never happens. This really was a special case. And its disappearance? You couldn't even fathom why.

“Do you know at least where it lives?”

The village head turns to his right, pointing in that direction. “If you continue that direction, you'll come across a forest. That's where it goes. We don't know where it lives, we've been too scared to try and find out ourselves.”

You sigh. Well, this wasn't much to work with. “Is there anywhere I can stay?” 

“Yes, yes. There's a room above the bar that's just for you. Free of charge, of course. The food as well. Just please… eradicate this beast.” 

“I'll do my best.” 

—

No matter how many forests you go to, you never become fonder of them. Traversing them was always annoying. Too much greenery to walk through, too many streams and rivers to cross, and just too many damn trees. This terrain is especially difficult to find traces of dragons in. It'd be better to make your own traces then scour through the forest to search for them, hence why you're at a stream, catching as much fish as you can with a net. Fish makes for good dragon bait, though you don't intend to use it to trap the dragon. You doubt any trap you could make in the little time you have could kill or harm the dragon, but it will lure the dragon to you.

You pause to take a break, glancing at the pile of fish you've collected. The smell is starting to assault your nostrils. Ugh. 

You hear a crunch behind you, and you turn. Your eyes widen and you pick up your sword, raising them towards the three dragons that surround you. Adrenaline pumps through you as you stand up, observing the creatures. 

All of them only have one-pair of wings, with similar features and size; they’re as large as bear cubs, if you subtract their tail length, and you realize that they're baby dragons, yet to reach maturity. They have, notably, distinct colorings, but they all share the same black and gray coloring. Perhaps they come from the same hatch? The one to your right has red, almost maroon, splotches over their scales. This one is wide eyed, but its features are relaxed as if playful and curious. The one in the middle seems to be the smallest, fearful as if it’s cowering with its dipped head and the tail wrapping around itself protectively; this one has almost a marigold accent to it. The one to the right is teal, and passive, like it doesn't see you in the slightest. 

Baby dragons are hardly as aggressive or destructive as their adult counterparts, but that doesn't mean they can't pose a danger. Still, you don't want to harm them, not when they haven't done anything that would warrant you to.

The red one approaches, deliberately, sniffing towards your direction. You brace your sword, and it trudges up to you, nostrils grazing against your armor before it nudges against your hand. It then walks past you, its focus deadset on the pile of fish behind you. The two other dragons follow in the red one's lead, and you sigh in relief, placing your sword back in its sheathes.

Baby dragons, three of them especially, are a rare sight, as they're often sheltered in their father's den, and they don't venture out until they've fully matured. This being because they're quite vulnerable despite the threat they hold once they've matured. Eliminating them is a part of your duty, however, you never feel right killing creatures that have just hatched. They couldn't be more than ten years old; they still had a few more decades before they could pose a danger. If they're out like this, it's likely they've been abandoned. Mother dragons often leave their young after childbirth, and the fathers are left to take care of them; it could be that the father died recently. 

Whatever the case, you think that they deserve to live a little longer. Plus, they're kind of cute… 

Although, the more you observe them, the more you feel you should prevent the fish supply you spent all day getting from declining. They seem less cute now. You groan as they eat until there's no more fish, and they turn back to you, croaking as if requesting more. 

What are you, their mother? Your eye twitches in vexation. 

You spend your evening fishing for baby dragons at the river. Un-fucking-believable. Weren't you wonderful at your job? 

You decide to leave the dragons at the river bank as you search for wood to make a campfire. To your slight annoyance and amusement, the young dragons trail behind you. You get random twigs and branches that scatter the forest floor. One of the dragons, the yellow one, picks up a branch in their mouth, before offering it to you. 

Damn it, why did you have to be a dragon hunter? You take the stick in your hand, hesitantly petting the top of its head. This is something you’ve never done before, but you wouldn't mind doing it again. It leans into your hand. You don't deserve this treatment, you hunt their kind. Oh, how you wish you could tell them what you'd have to do once they grow up. Why did you have to be a dragon hunter? You're holding back tears as you continue the petting action. 

Its other siblings, unbeknownst to your existential crisis, follow its behavior, and you've turned the baby dragons into your personal campfire wood carriers. You think dragon trainor fits you better than a dragon hunter at this point, but that profession doesn't grant an affordable life. 

Seating yourself on a tree stump, you build your campfire and light it. You use it to cook a fish over, while you try to fend off said trout from being eaten by the dragons. By the time it's done cooking, the little creatures are exhausated, curling against you as the three fall asleep against your legs and back. You don't want to admit it, but it's a comfortable weight against you. You didn't even know that dragons snore until now.

Peace at last, you think, finally able to eat your fish alone. 

Too soon, too soon. You hear it before you see it, the whipping of winds that you can only associate with the beating of dragon wings as it flies. The sound grows louder, meaning it's heading straight towards you. You stand up, unsheathing your sword and bracing yourself for an assault. Shit, shit, shit, you're not prepared to fight in this territory whatsoever. What was it attracted to? The campfire? The smell of your fish? Or perhaps… you glance at the still sleeping creatures. 

You don't have much time to ponder as the ground shakes when the beast lands in front of you, right on top of the river, its gargantuan form making you tremble. An earth shattering roar escapes its throat, nearly making you tumble back from the sheer force, and your ears ring painfully. 

You've never seen a larger dragon before. You count the pair of wings through squinted eyes. One, two, three. This is the dragon you've been hired to hunt? 

The hand holding your sword doesn't stop shaking, no matter how much you try to control your muscles. The adult dragon nears, and your heart rate pounds louder and louder with each footstep. Black and white colorings? Check. Sharp tail? Check. You know you have to fight it, but how could you possibly? It dwarfs you in every single way possible. 

It swipes its tail at you, and you duck as fast as possible, just barely missing being sliced in half like the trees behind you. Its tail retracts to lunge at you again, and you block the sharp end with your sword, though it just swats you away easily, throwing you across the bank of the river. You land on the gravel with a pained groan, and you scramble to get up, facing the dragon. 

Piercing red-crossed eyes gaze back at you, and you no longer feel like the hunter. Instead, you feel like the prey, and every fiber of your being is telling you to run. You wield your sword again resolutely. If you die, then you die, but you'll die knowing you tried. The dragon tilts its head back, preparing its fiery breath, and you ready your wrist shield. 

Suddenly, a familiar croak comes from behind the adult dragon, and you see the baby dragons rush into the adult dragon, headbutting its feet. The dragon snaps its head back into its normal position, gazing down at the small dragons at its feet. You're afraid that the larger dragon will crush them, but instead it growls. The young ones chirp back, communicating with it. 

You stand there, bewildered, the pieces coming together in your mind quickly. Is the black and white dragon their father? Are they trying to save you? The tension in your shoulders relaxes the slightest bit. The father dragon whips its head back to you, and you freeze, paralyzed under its predatory gaze. Too swiftly does its tail shoot towards you, but instead of impaling you as you prepared, it merely wraps around your midsection, lifting you effortlessly. You drop your sword out of pure shock from being in mid air, and it brings you face to face with the dragon. 

The dragon snarls, baring its teeth, and you think it's the end once you see its pearly whites. Instead, however, it sniffs you, before pausing, observing you more. You're holding your breath, wondering when you will meet your fate. It opens its mouth wide, displaying a row of teeth in its oral cavern. You squeeze your eyes shut but all you feel is something warm, wet, and slimey. A tongue drags across your face, and you cringe, immediately bringing your hands to wipe away the thick saliva. The tail around you loosens, and you fall on your back, grunting from the impact of hitting the floor. 

Okay. Well, you're alive at least, you think, once you get the liquid out of your eyes but it is unfortunately in your hair. If it hasn't killed you yet, then it must mean that it likes you? 

You open your eyes, and see that the dragon lays in front of you, its snout just a feet away from you. Each huff from the dragon blows your hair back with hot air, but you don't mind it. The smaller dragons prance by your side, chirping and croaking with a high-pitched tone. Bemused but just grateful that you've yet met your end, you pet their heads. By the growl from the father, they approve of your action, and your heart melts. You reach out to pet the snout of the larger dragon, and it closes its eyes, further nudging against you before a grumbly purr escapes its throat.

Seems like you've just been forcibly adopted by a family of dragons. You don't think you'll complain that much. 

[project-sonadow]

Fate?

Summary: Sonic never cared about soulmates, but in a world where everyone had a red string of fate wrapped around their finger, Sonic decided to wear gloves.

Read the rest below!

To put it bluntly, Sonic had never cared about soulmates.

He wasn’t exactly unique in this mindset. In this modern day and era, it was only slightly progressive to spend your entire life without ever meeting your other half, let alone devoting your life to them. Radical ideas, such as platonic soulmates, familial soulmates, or even soulmates being bad if you ended up paired with the wrong person were common talking points in the general public and media. That red string of fate which had governed entire lives in the past no longer seemed critical to most people.

Sonic didn’t care about any of that either. In fact, until he started hanging around populated human areas more often, he didn’t realize there was so much controversy about it. He always lived how he wanted, paying barely any attention to the subject. 

-

Sonic’s friends all had very different opinions about soulmates.

Tails was kind of like him, in that he didn’t care about the red string encircling his pinkie and leading to a far-off point in the distance- or, at least, he pretended not to. Amy had been heartbroken that she and Sonic weren’t soulmates, before deciding to prove to Sonic and the world that true love couldn’t be predetermined by fate (her words, not his). Knuckles didn’t want to leave his duty for long enough to find his soulmate, and had admitted to Sonic once that he felt bad for whoever his soulmate was. Cream was excited to find her soulmate when she got older, but wasn’t under any illusion that it was a requirement for happiness in life, considering that her own mother was forever trailed by her own cut string, dragging limply on the ground, and seemed just fine despite that. Blaze and Silver both viewed it as a luxury that they couldn’t indulge in (ironic, because their shared red string of fate was apparently strong enough to cross through time and dimensions). Vector didn’t care about it at all, considering that he had his eyes set on Vanilla. Espio thought it would get in the way of his “duties as a ninja”, whatever that meant. Charmy just didn’t like the idea of relationships in general. Rouge hated the concept in general, Shadow refused to talk about it, and Omega said he would refuse to accept his soulmate unless they were willing to help him destroy Eggman. Big had a gentle kind of apathy towards his string. Whisper didn’t talk much about the subject to begin with, and considering that she wore blocker gloves 24/7 people didn’t ask her about it. 

Tangle…

Well, it seemed like she was trying very hard to convince herself that she didn’t care about the idea of never finding her soulmate. 

“I just don’t get why everyone thinks it’s such a big deal, y’know. Like it’s great if you do find your soulmate, and in a tiny village like mine half the soulmates are paired up before they’re teenagers, but it’s not like you need to do it! My moms aren’t soulmates and they’re doing just fine!”

Tangle’s moms were currently divorced and trying to rekindle their relationship, but Sonic decided not to bring that up.

“And then we have to throw a huge stupid party everytime someone comes back from vacation with their soulmate in tow, and I just. Ugh. We all make such a big deal out of getting to choose how to live our own lives, but we’re all born with this stupid string around our pinkies and told to go off and find the other end. It’s so annoying.”

This probably wasn’t what was actually bothering her, Sonic thought. It was probably the fact that one day her string had stopped moving by itself, only responding to Tangle’s own body, and currently led to a forest in the middle of nowhere with nobody at the other end. It was probably the fact that her soulmate had apparently been the type of person to try on a pair of blocker gloves one day and then never take them off.

Sonic thought about Whisper. About the blocker gloves she never took off, the way she started fiddling with them whenever Tangle was around. The way she looked so anxious whenever Tangle grabbed her by the hand and started running, like she was scared Tangle would pull the glove clean off. The way Tangle and Whisper looked at each other, in general.

Like always, he wondered if he should tell Tangle what he thought.

Like always, he decided against it.

“If you want a huge stupid party, I can always just throw you one, soulmate or no soulmate,” he said instead. “Hell, if you really want, we could pretend that we’re soulmates just to rub it in your town’s face.”

Tangle fake-gagged, and Sonic took fake-offense to that.

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Celebrity,” she said, and Sonic drew himself back a little, spines involuntarily bristling. “Whenever people talk about soulmates you just roll your eyes and say some shit about ‘living free’ and ‘going with the flow’. Do you really not want to find your soulmate? It would be easy for you.”

Sonic rolled his eyes, and then instantly realized what he had done when Tangle started laughing at him. He hastily cleared his throat. “Don’t know if there’s anyone who would be able to keep up with me.”

“I know at least three people who can go about as fast as you can,” Tangle said, punching his shoulder lightly. “C’mon, if you really didn’t care that much you wouldn’t wear those stupid blocker gloves all the time.”

Oh, so she had noticed. “Eh, I mostly wear these because I tend to get mobbed by crazy  fangirls if I don’t. If I make it obvious I’m not really available then most people won’t attempt to tell me that they’re totally different from the hundreds of other people who have been convinced we’re meant to be over the years.”

Tangle narrowed her eyes at that. “Crazy fangirls? Like Amy?”

“Crazier.”

“Wow, scary,” Tangle said, and then moved on to talking about how her own friends had set up a Sonic fanclub once, and the conversation moved on from there, and Sonic was glad he didn’t have to talk about it anymore. 

-

So yeah, Sonic wore blocker gloves, and yeah, it was so he wouldn’t be harassed about the subject whenever he showed his face in public, or when journalists ambushed him on the streets, or people edited photos of him to make it seem like he had a thin red line coming down from his pinkie and leading to some stranger in the photo. It was convenient. It was easy.

It was even mostly the truth.

Sonic knew a couple other people who wore blocker gloves- Blaze studiously kept hers on to keep up a vaguely professional air, even when her cheeks flamed fire-red every single time Silver so much as existed in her general vicinity, Espio had his on so the string couldn’t get in the way of his “duties as a ninja” (seriously, what the hell did that mean), Vector occasionally wore them on the job and had made half-hearted attempts to get a pair for Charmy, which kept on being mysteriously lost. Rouge and Shadow both wore a pair, presumably because of their super-secret spy jobs that Sonic wasn’t supposed to know about (glowing red strings which could phase through any solid object would probably make hiding difficult, he figured), and Omega had found a way to simply turn his string off, somehow, which was more impressive and terrifying than anything else Sonic had seen him do. 

The only person Sonic knew who steadfastly refused to wear blocker gloves was Vanilla, despite the troubles she sometimes saw because of them. She was a single mother whose string had been cut by an untimely death, and she didn’t care who knew it. She lived each day of her life with a bright, happy, genuine smile on her face.

She was, so far, one of the only people who had ever seen Sonic with his gloves off. The only other person besides Tails, actually, who built his gloves in the first place. And the only person who hadn’t said a word to him about the subject, just cleaned the cut he had gotten on his palm and told him to keep himself safe.

He was grateful to her for that.

Rouge was Vanilla’s polar opposite, in regards to the string. She not only hid her string, she made a show of hiding it, commissioning custom blocker gloves and shoving the subject right back in the face of any poor soul who dared to question her about it. She had a million and one excuses for why she didn’t want to find her soulmate, all of them tiptoeing around the truth and never once touching on the actual reason why. She bragged about being able to date anyone she wanted even without showing her string off. She complained about not wanting to be tied down. She whined about how annoying societal expectations were. She crowed about the amount of people who desperately wanted to be her soulmate.

Sonic saw through all of this as the extravagant bullshit that it was, but he really had no idea what the actual reason was. Didn’t really care either. It wasn’t like she brought the subject up an annoying amount either, she was far more likely to yammer on for hours about her one and only actual love (jewels) than she was to start talking about literally any other subject (and if he could put up with the jewel talk, then he could put up with anything). 

It was just that sometimes when they hung out, people would get the wrong idea about them. Sonic and one of his friends (a woman at that), both with blocker gloves, spending time together, alone? It was apparently unthinkable to some that they could just be friends. So they both made a big joke out of it, Rouge flaunting how untouchable she was and Sonic pretending to be heartbroken. It made for some hilarious think pieces about how Sonic was a bad role model, at the very least.

Still, he didn’t want to deal with all of that every time they hung out, which was why Rouge had dragged Shadow along with them this time, mentioning that he owed her for something.

So here they were, sequestered away in a tiny café, Rouge and Sonic talking about everything and nothing, while Shadow was also there, sipping delicately at his tea while Sonic chugged his large chocolate milkshake and Rouge got whipped cream from her hot chocolate all over her face. 

Good times.

For once, the general populace seemed content to ignore them, at least for now, so the conversation went wherever it wanted to, Sonic and Rouge loud and energetic, Shadow quiet and solemn (despite the fact that there was nothing to be solemn about).

At least, nothing until Rouge spilled hot chocolate all over her glove. 

“Ohgoddamnitshit,” Rouge said, all in one breath, dabbing at the stain on her very expensive glove with a napkin, a small frown on her face, before it turned into an outright scowl. “Oh come on-”

She shifted her wrist, and Sonic saw what had bothered her so much. Some of the liquid must have gotten into some of the actual electronics in the glove and messed with it, because Sonic could now see Rouge’s string. Rouge’s cut string.

Rouge groaned, and then shoved her hand under the table, her head in her other hand. “Not. A. Word.”

She said it lightly, like Sonic and Shadow had just seen her do something embarrassing instead of accidentally revealing that her supposed other half was dead and buried, but Sonic could hear the threat in her tone, and he wasn’t going to tell anyone about it anyway. He mimed sealing his lips shut, Shadow just gave her a terse nod, and before either of them could do anything Rouge had thrown some cash onto the table and ran out the front door, presumably to go home, get a new pair of blocker gloves, and hide her face from them for at least a couple months.

Sonic put his chocolate shake down on the table. He had a feeling it wouldn’t taste anywhere near as good as it did a second ago.

“I know Rouge already said as much, but if you tell anyone else about that, you’ll regret it,” Shadow said, the threat in his far less concealed than Rouge’s had been.

“I won’t, jeez,” Sonic said. “I’m not an asshole. And I don’t care about soulmates either.”

Shadow just raised an eyebrow at him, and Sonic glared back half-heartedly. “Those gloves serve a purpose, Sonic.”

“I only wear these because I’m a celebrity for some reason, and people think that makes it okay to pry into every detail of my life.”

“‘For some reason’,” Shadow said, mostly to himself, sounding incredulous. “That can’t seriously be the only reason you wear them.”

Well, it wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to tell Shadow that. Especially when he had no idea what the other hedgehog thought about soulmates beyond just a general unwillingness to speak about the topic. He was born over 50 years ago and raised by a bunch of uptight scientists in literal outer space, so Sonic was curious if he had any different opinions from the general crowd he hung out with.

Shadow didn’t seem willing to share, so Sonic decided to push the issue. Just a bit. “Why do you wear blocker gloves?”

Shadow’s lips curled in a vaguely unpleasant way. “I don’t want to find my soulmate. That’s all.”

Well, that was an unsurprising and boring answer. “Okay, but what would you do if you met your soulmate and fell head-over-heels in love with them? Or if you’ve already met your soulmate, but didn’t know because of the gloves?”

“I wouldn’t fall in love with anyone. And I’m not even slightly concerned about the second possibility. There is nobody in my life who I would want to become my life partner.”

Sonic pouted at him, and something in his chest hurt, just a bit. “Nobody? Not even little old me?”

Shadow’s expression flickered, before it hardened again. “I hope, for your sake, that what you just said was a joke. I’m an immortal being, Sonic. My string will end up cut, at some point or another.”

“Hmm. Good point,” Sonic said. “Well, unless your soulmate is Omega, I guess.”

Shadow choked on his drink, and Sonic couldn’t help but grin like a maniac even as Shadow glared at him (it was less scary than normal, with tea dripping out of his mouth and into his chest fluff. He looked adorable. Sonic tried not to think about the fact that he thought Shadow was adorable). 

Sonic decided against talking about it anymore for his own health (Shadow had proved he was more than willing to suplex Sonic through a table if he annoyed him too much), so instead he just waited for Shadow to finish his tea before handing him some gold rings to pay for the half-drunken milkshake. Shadow glared at the rings like they offended him. “They don’t accept those as payment in human establishments.”

“My mistake,” Sonic said cheekily. “Guess I’m dining and dashing. The next date will be my treat.”

And then he dashed before Shadow could actually suplex him through the table.

-

Sonic didn’t leave the city when he left the café, instead opting to nap on the nearest rooftop before night fell. Whenever he visited the big cities he always made sure to stay off the streets themselves. With so many people all locked into one tiny area, the red strings, thin and frail as they were, became far too many, all at once, hundreds and thousands and millions of them all crisscrossing their way across every visible surface, choking his view and making it impossible to run unless he wanted to be half-blind. So he stuck to the rooftops, and waited for night so he could at least get a good view for his trouble.

At night, the streets of every city lit up, suffused with a red glow, invisible during the day but radiant when the sun went down. The strings varied in size, thickness, length, how strong they were, how much they were moving, but every single one of them, collectively, bound people together in the most literal way possible. If you had a soulmate, it was impossible to get rid of your string. It would remain there until the day you died, so most people still said it was better to try and use it, to find happiness with your other half.

Sonic didn’t put much stock in that idea. Or in the idea of other halves existing in the first place. Some of his friends called him an idealist for thinking so, but he had always believed that people were complete by themselves, and that finding someone else made them something more than just themselves. 

Shadow would probably call him an idealist for that, too. Even if he had a sneaking suspicion it was something close to what the other hedgehog thought.

Or maybe Shadow would just call him stupid. 

High on his chosen perch, Sonic surveyed the glove on his right hand. Tails had made it for him. It was mostly pure white, just like his old gloves, but with a thin ring of silver at the bottom which made its purpose obvious. It looked professionally made. To everyone except him and Tails, it even looked like it worked. 

When he removed it, his hands were bare, free from any string. He never had one in the past, and would probably never have one in the future. Sonic had learned a long time ago how people reacted when they realized he didn’t have a soulmate, and decided he hated it even back then. The gloves were a convenience, a way for him to avoid explaining himself, a preventative measure to stop everyone from looking at him like he was broken. 

Because Sonic wasn’t broken. He only needed himself, so even if fate said he was doomed to be alone he was perfectly fine with that.

Sonic thought back to Shadow, in the café. 

Well, there was a reason he had never put much stock in fate, either.

[materlux]

Nemophilist

Nemophilist: (n.) A haunter of the woods; one who loves the forest and its beauty and solitude.

  The script brings Kafka and Blade to a post-post-apocalyptic world, inhabited by primitive humans who believe in ghosts and monsters. But in the forest a monster really does live, but it’s not evil, just slightly stupid. The monster is you, by the way.

CW: Idk?

Honkai Star Rail | Main Masterlist

This planet had experienced a catastrophic incident many amber eras ago, this has left its remaining life forms cut off from the rest of the cosmos. The people of this planet are, what the Genius Society would label, primitive. They do not understand the giant metal structures left behind by their forefathers, they have no knowledge of the aeons, or of the place they once occupied in the vast universe. To put it simply, it’s like someone pressed the ‘reset’ button on their civilization.

   This explains why the script was so simple and short, no one on this planet knew who they were, they believed they were celestial bodies from beyond the stars. Kafka enjoyed the treatment, compared to how they normally had to avoid all open areas, it was refreshing to be welcomed. Although Blade would much prefer the usual, if only because then he’d be left alone.

   Their mission is simple: Retrieve an ancient maschine core, something this planet's forefathers used to trade for high prices, and get back. The hard part would be to locate the core, it has been deactivated for centuries and the ruins of old have become overgrown.

   The locals are of little help, only talking of wild superstitions and monsters in the forest. The village they are at now borders with a dense forest of tall trees, the locals fear it, saying it’s home to ghosts and a monster. Kafka smiles and nods along as they explain, but her smile is one of barely hidden amusement, not sympathy.

   But a local makes a comment that catches both their attention, the monster lives in the body of a giant metal box, surrounded by other metal boxes. It’s a crude way to describe it, but this planet’s people used to live in giant artificial floating cities, the machine core they were searching for must be hidden in one such building.

   Kafka comes up with a plan and uses the people's beliefs of a monster to her advantage, she promises that she and her companion, Blade, will slay the monster for them. She makes a show of telling the people of their great endeavours and heroic acts, Blade thinks she lays it on too thick, singing her own praise more than anything, but it works.

   The locals see them off as they enter the forest, creaking branches sway tall overhead, the ground is covered in plant growth. Luckily there is a passage carved through the bush, dirt and stone crunch under their boots.

   “This is like a walk in the park, it makes you wonder what the locals are so scared of.” Kafka makes idle musings as they walk, Blade pays her little mind, keeping his eyes on the surrounding undergrowth.

   “It’s been a while since we’ve had this simple of a mission.” Kafka continues to fill the silence, not expecting a reply. “Maybe we’ll even have time to stop by some of the other planets in this solar system.”

   Something fast moves between the ferns, Blade halts his movements and watches for a culprit, more ferns sway violently as it moves closer. Kafka watches with lax eyes, observing the way Blade tenses and summons his weapon; whatever small forest critter is moving its way towards them is surely going to regret it. But it’s not a small forest critter that stands at the edge of the path, it’s a small, vaguely humanoid, looking spirit thing; with wide blank eyes and stubby limbs. More gather at the edge, tilting their heads in thought.

   “These are the ghosts the locals fear?” Kafka can barely contain her amused grin. “They’re quite cute, no?” She looks at Blade, who is poking at them experimentally with the tip of his blade.

   “Cute is not the word I’d use,” Blade mutters as the small ghostly figures grab at his sword, unfazed by the threat. Kafka huffs a quiet laugh as she begins back down the path, Blade follows her, the small ghostly figures hot on their heels a few hanging off his sword.

  The path narrows the further in they go and the trees seem to grow in size, more of the ghostly figures gather around them, creating a long trail behind them. Until the ghosts break away from the path to effortlessly climb a tree, Kafka pays them no mind and neither does Blade, at first.

   But something large moves in the canopy above, Blade stares unblinkingly up at it, but there is nothing to see and the movement stops, the wind rushes through the leaves.

   “C’mon Bladie,” Kafka calls from up ahead, “it was probably just the wind, or a bird, or something.” He glares at the leaves for just a moment longer, before he follows after Kafka.

   Maybe if he had stood there for two moments longer, he would have seen you, but luckily for you that lady distracted him. The small ghosts gather around you, they clamber their way up your sides, and hang off your arms and antlers. An abomination of the abundance some would call you, although you were no child of a God, simply an oddity created in the chemical fallout of the apocalypse; not entirely plant, not entirely animal, not entirely human, but wholly alive and curious.

   His striking red eyes had pinpointed you immediately, even though you were certain you were hidden behind the branches, could he perhaps sense you. You slink off further into the canopy, the small ghosts ride along on your back, you move from branch to branch, from tree to tree with ease.

   In a clearing of flowers you lounge, limbs, human and not, stretched out in the soft grass. The small ghosts watch you from the shadows, unlike you, they are not immune to the sun’s rays. A patch of striking red flowers catches your gaze, they remind of the man, Bladie the lady called him, he’s been stuck on your mind for the past hours. It’s not often anyone wanders into the forest, and something about these two told you they weren’t like the locals.

   Maybe this would be your chance to find some company, as mean as it sounds, maybe you could even leave, you love the ghosts really, but they don’t make for great company. Compared to the newcomers who spoke and weren’t frightened of the monster in the forest, they were far better company. 

   But you had to make a good first impression, especially on the man, Bladie, he was the one most on edge, even threatening the small ghosts. Your eyes land on the red flowers again and an idea pops into your head, the locals give each other flowers as a sign of good intention, right?

   Grabbing a handful of flowers, you move up a nearby tree with ease, the ghosts happily follow after you as you weave along the canopy.

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

   Kafka sits perched on a rock as Blade walks the edge of the small clearing, large branches overhead creates some shade. After looping around one last time he too settles down, he keeps his sword out and eyes alert, flicking around the canopy.

   “I doubt whatever you heard has followed us,” Kafka reasons, but Blade pays her little mind. A hoard of small ghosts tumble out of a large tree, gathering at its base and watching the canopy expectantly. Something larger and humanoid surprisingly elegantly makes its way down the trunk, Blade stands at attention like a guard dog, sword drawn and pointed. Kafka on the other hand leans back on her hands, curiosity in her eyes as she watches you move into the grass.

   You watch the man as he watches you, he’s threatening you, if you were smarter or maybe more skittish you’d have turned tail and run. But you weren’t, you had a plan and a handful of flowers, so calmly you walk across the clearing.

   You stand a sword’s length away from him, he is far taller than you and more noticeably built, for a moment you do consider turning tail. But you muster up the courage and extend your arm, red flowers shake in your hold. The two of you just stand there, staring at each other, it’s actually the lady that makes the first move.

   “Bladie, lower your sword, they just want to give you some flowers,” she coos, making her way through the grass. She stands by your sides and gently lowers his sword for him, he relents and sends it away, you watch perplexed as it disappears into thin air.

   “Red flowers, why red?” The lady asks you, if she expects a verbal reply, she’s sure to be surprised. Blade is, when you step up close to him and hold the flowers up to his face, right beside his eye.

   “Oh I see, those do match his eyes quite well,” she agrees, it makes you feel a little giddy. You don’t often get praised, it’s not often you have any social interaction at all, the locals are terrified of you.

   The lady, who introduced herself as Kafka, has now spent the better half of 30 minutes teaching you how to say her name. You kinda get there, but you only really make half the sounds before giving up. The two let you tag along as they explore the forest, reiteration; Kafka lets you tag along, Blade tolerates your presence at best.

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

   As the sun begins to set over the horizon, you wander off into the forest, making your way back to your home. A nest-like structure hidden away in some metallic ruins, you, who was here when they fell out of the sky, remember what the locals forgot. The only problem is, you don’t have a universal translator, and you cannot for the life of you remember more than a word or two in the universal language.

   “Where are you going?” Kafka asks as you stand before a tree, you tilt your head over your shoulder. You try to make sense of what she said, as well as come up with a proper reply.

   “Home?” You croak, your vocal cords having gone unused for years are straining to form just one word. Kafka smiles and nods, you relax, you think that means you picked the right word.

   “Can we go with you?” She looks amused, you think, by your little predicament. You decide to just copy her head movement, a nod.

   It’s not a long walk from the clearing, you make your way up the creaking metal structure, and make yourself comfy among the old fabrics you’ve scavenged. Kafka and Blade stay on a lower level, you hang slightly off the ledge to peer down at them, they start a fire to keep warm.

   In the morning you’re awoken by the sound of rummaging, you follow the sound to find Kafka and Blade, mostly Blade, Kafka wouldn’t want to dirty her nice clothes, looking through the wreck. You tilt your head at them as Blade moves a piece of metal with ease, he huffs when he finds nothing but more debris.

   “Good morning,” Kafka greets you, “I put Bladie to work.” She smiles.

   “Bladie,” you mimic her speech, the man in question freezes and then throws a glare over his shoulder, Kafka only laughs.

   “They’re like a parrot,” Kafka muses.

   “Parrot?” You tilt your head in confusion, but Kafka just smiles like you just proved her point exactly.

   As the day goes by and they continue searching for something, Kafka watches amused as you observe Blade, you mutter ‘Bladie’ at him a few times only to be met with his glare. You are very confused, when you mutter ‘Kafka’ at Kafka she just smiles, why does he seem so upset?

   At some point Kafka makes use of your curious nature and obvious understanding of this place, she shows you what they are looking for, a look of recognition passes over your face before you disappear into the wreck.

   A couple hours later, while Kafka enjoys the tranquil atmosphere and Blade continues to be ever vigilant, you stumble less elegantly out of the crash site. Something cradled in your arms, you settle before Kafka and offer it to her. Before her feet now lay the exact machine core they were looking for, and it’s still in good condition.

   “I told you this script would be easy,” she smiles at Blade, who only huffs. “Well thank you.” Her hand gently rests on your head.

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

   Helping them was easy and you got praise out of it, it made you feel good to help them, but now there is a new problem; they are leaving. You don't want them to leave, or rather you don’t want them to leave you. You offer them more flowers and other things, you hope to convey your message, but Kafka only coos at you and Blade pays you no mind.

   By the edge of the forest you make a sudden decision, Kafka stretches out in the sun, but before Blade can leave the shade. You latch onto his arm, he very nearly cuts your head off.

   “Stay,” you croak quietly. He tries to free his arm, but you don’t let up your grip. Kafka looks over the scene in amusement, but she interjects before Blade can actually hurt you.

   “We can’t stay.” She places a gentle hand on your head. “Why do you want us to stay?” She assesses the stressed out look on your face as you try to make sense of her words.

   “Alone.” Is the best response you can give with your limited vocabulary, Kafka coos at you again.

   “Sure, you can come along.” Blade makes a noise, but keeps his opinion to himself.

   The small ghosts gather by the edge of the forest, it’s they’re way of saying goodbye, you figure. In all these years you never thought you’d see the universe again, but before your eyes stars stretch for miles, you are now a member of the Stellaron hunters, or more like a glorified pet.

[leavingsunsets]

The way you write for some reason makes me feel very calm, ive been wanting to request for a while but i got scared so im sending this and going to bed before i have time to regret it

Anyways hi teehee 🤭 Id like to request a scenario in which Gen and the reader were in a relationship before the petrification and the reader was his assistant so when hes revived in the stone world he tries to find them in between everything else thats happening!

Also could there be some fluff 🫡

I feel like i asked for a lot so if this is too overwhelming feel free to tone it down by like 100

Thank you!!!

RAAAHHH AN INTERESTING SCENARIO RAWR !!! oohhh magician and his assistant ooohh... AND HE TRIES TO FIND THEM TOO RAAAHHHH. Hmm, id say then, this'd be set across events and timelines as Gen's general experience in finding reader!! (and when he finally does) kehe.

"𝔸 𝕟𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕘𝕚𝕔 𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕪."

[𝙂𝙚𝙣 𝘼𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙞 𝙭 𝙜𝙣!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧]

Gen, the magician, and his just as magical assistant. Well, that was before anyway.

When he awoke, his first priority was himself, of course. Confused, and dazed, he followed along Tsukasa's rule. It all felt surreal. I mean, 37 centuries! Could you believe that? There's no way. A prank, a scheme, a dream.

But the way fear pulsed in his veins whenever he was faced with the prospect of life or death, the way every wound and battering has always reminded him of modernity's passing, the way he's had to meticulously refine every word on his tongue to determine war or peace,

the faint ache of your absence.

Back when he was just Tsukasa's little spy, it wasn't a big matter on his mind. It was his survival, for goodness sake, and he was living under the rule of the strongest teen primate. He had to be selfish, cautious, just in case.

Then, came living in the village. It was peaceful, more casual than the cold and towering rocks that were filled with buff men and women alike. More open, and hopeful, in contrast to the closed off Roppongi hills tower. (Despite previous altercations with the villagers.)

It quickly became like a homely place. Talking so casually with others, peers, friends. Somewhere to feel safe in.

Maybe that was where the homesickness kicked in.

Not for home like a house, per se. He was a traveling magician back in the day, he had no permanent home. But, what he missed was the familiarity of a constant force in his life. That despite wherever he went, there was always something that kept by his side, and him by theirs.

The others were floored when they heard about this. A lover? Him? Odd, as he seemed like such a conniving man, they couldn't ever imagine him capturing someone's heart (He hadn't. In reality, you'd captured his. For the sake of his pride, he doesn't correct them). Senku, as always, was indifferent, and quickly cut their gossip short.

A small reminder, sometimes, when he sees Chrome's oblivious pining to the young priestess.

What was it? was his worry, now that he could afford to think of others.

Where is it? He asks himself, all the time.

It reminds him of his own love story.

Love was such a foreign word to say in a world like this. He used to think of this as a dream, so surreal it couldn't be the reality. Though, it's come a long way since his acceptance of it. That this wasn't just a weird story that he could wake up from, and giggle with you about as you did your routine.

Maybe it hit more than it should've, that this wasn't something he could easily escape from. Foolish, late night thoughts wishing that it was because that way he could rest assured that the first thing he'd open his eyes to was you.

It was just a little push to get him to action.

In the times where he could walk free without being hounded with meetings and discussions as the kingdom's diplomat, he was back to where he woke up, the rocky edge that faced the sea's horizon. Where were you when he was on stage? Behind the curtain? How far did you wash up?

With diligent work, he'd found it. Your stone form was leaning on a dirt wall, tilted, as if glancing to the side. You were waiting for your cue behind the curtain, he realizes. He was almost horrified when he first saw you, spotting your hand at your feet. It was only by luck it hadn't weathered, and could be fixed with a bit of Yuzuriha's stolen glue.

Of course, even then, other things had to be prioritised. The ship, finding a Ryusui, the fields, flying, mapping.

He's visited you everyday, checking for cracks, fallen parts. Sometimes, he would sit with you, just doing about anything by your presence. Sometimes, he'd reminisce, staring at you, relieved, so relieved, that even like this, the world still allowed him to be with you.

He knew, there was a big fat chance of him being called to the ship. So in the dark, early morning of that day he'd voyaged, he'd gone to see you again.

"Hey," he stares, standing in front of your form. Your eyes were stuck looking elsewhere, frozen in a phantom of the past. It makes him remember the familiar scene of you peeking from behind the curtains, eyes searching until they land on him.

"I'm going to be away, for a moment." Gen's calloused hand cup your cold face, feeling the hard stone. He knows you can't feel it, but he still insists on affection.

Before he departs for treasure island, he ensures your statue is under a tree's safe shade.

Time passes longer than he thought, and it was relieving, finally stepping foot back in Japan's familiar terrain. He watches the tearful reunitings of his teammates, smile soft. And despite Senku's oh-so-casual demeanor, he knows that he's just as ecstatic to be one step closer to humanity's revival.

A slight envy, for a moment, but he quickly brushes it off. Gen understands that Senku has priorities, and there's only so much revival fluid to go around. For now, he's satisfied. Even if it took years, and more, he wouldn't mind watching over you for a little while longer.

Walking away from the waterfall, the others are busy chatting, immersed in updating Tsukasa about recent events and developments.

"You guys go on, I'll catch up with you in a bit," Gen chirps from the back, tucking his hands within his sleeves. Minami and the others nod, only giving a wave before continuing on their conversation. With a smile, the magician turns away, not noticing a certain scientist stay behind.

"Wait," Senku speak out, pausing Gen in his tracks. Curious, he gives him a glance.

"Yes?"

Now that he's got his attention, the man takes something from his belt, holding it out for Gen to see.

A vial of- "Revival fluid?" The magician blinks in confusion. "Why're you giving it to me?"

"You said your lover used to be an artisan before they met you, right?"

He nearly sputters, a little confused. "Ah, yes, I did."

It clicks. Gen's eyes widen. The scientist smirks.

"I'm not dumb enough to not notice your little trips," he huffs, and puts in Gen's hand. "Our projects are getting bigger and bigger, and our crafting team can only do so much with their number."

Gosh, Gen doesn't even want to call him out for his excuses. Maybe a little, it also gives him more of a reason to do this.

"Thank you, Senku."

And now, standing in front of you. Sunshine peeking between the tree's foliage land on you. Your usual scent of moss and dirt covered up by the freshly made clothes he's dressed you in. Is this finally happening?

He truly was, deep deep in his heart, thankful, that he was even given such a chance like this.

Watching the acid flow down your head, dripping down your face, he held his breath.

Silence, complete silence. All he could hear was the distant sounds of people, and the whistle of the sea breeze.

For a second, he faltered.

Crack.

One, two more, and a third.

Fragments fall off, landing on the ground in pieces. Your eyes, fluttering as bright light consumed your vision. As it adjusted, the first thing you see is familiar face, one particularly dear to you.

"[name]," he whispers, eyes sheening with tears.

"Gen?" A softened voice, one he's wanted to hear for so, so, long, ever since he awoke, wondering where you were every late night he stayed out to think about you.

Smiling, he fails to hold back the waterworks. It flows down his face, and he doesn't even bother wiping them away. He holds your forearms to keep you steady.

You were finally here, with him. Finally. A few more warm tears squeeze out of his eyes, and he feels your comforting touch against his cheek.

"Gen? What's wrong?"

He leans into your palm, sniffling slightly as his lips wobble.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong, anymore."

He covers your hand with his. This isn't a dream, is it? He's glad. So, so, glad.

"Welcome back."

[seabirdtxt]

Event batch 3

all three of these were requested by the lovely @littlemistermedly 😊

🩵 Check out my other event requests! 🩵

"The ways that they love you" Spinoff of Glitch!AU but can be read as standalone. fluff and smut. everyone involved in this is AFAB yes even the puppets, he/him still used for all three of them though 1. Kabukimono | pillowfort building / frottage, clothed sex 2. Wanderer | falling asleep in class / sub!Wanderer, toy usage. reader wears a strap 3. Scaramouche | PWP, oral (reader receiving), brat!Scara for like 2 seconds

🔞 18+ below the cut!🔞 By clicking "Read More" you acknowledge the above tags/warnings and agree that you are both over 18 and accept responsibility for your own media consumption.

----- ⚘ -----

Kabukimono: Man on the Moon

The sweet puppet holds you gently, sitting with your back leaning against his front as the both of you are squished together by a mountain of pillows and blankets that were generously provided to you against your other roommates’ wills. The pillow fort you’d constructed with the pilfered cushions hide you and Kabukimono from the rest of the world, fitting you both into a little bubble of quiet intimacy.

His chest thrums with the vibrations of his voice box as he hums a little song in your ear, gently smoothing his hands up and down your arms and shoulders. 

As his song comes to an end, he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your head, sighing contentedly.

“That was a nice song, Kabu,” you tell him, putting your hands over his. “Where did you learn that?” 

“It’s a nursery rhyme that the aunties in Tatarasuna taught me when I watched the village children!” He smiles gently, chest warming as he closes his eyes and purrs at the memory. “I don’t remember the words anymore, but the tune always makes me feel better.” 

“Aww,” you coo, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair. “That’s so cute, Kabu! You must’ve been the favourite of all the aunties.” 

“I- I wouldn’t go that far…” You can feel Kabukimono’s temperature rise again as he fights off the flustered expression he makes. You tilt your head back and look at him, catching a glimpse of his shaky smile. 

“I’m sure you had mobs of aunties offering you their sons’ and daughters’ hands in marriage,” you grin, poking his cheek as he pointedly looks away, covering his mouth with his hand. “Am I wrong? You’re so pretty, I just know everybody wanted a piece of this.” 

“Stop it! Now you’re just teasing me.”

You wriggle around so that you’re facing him, pressing down into his rumbling chest with your entire body. It’s a shame the puppet bodies don’t blush in the same way as humans, because you’re sure he would be beet red right now.

You lean in close and squish your cheek against his, nuzzling into the soft hair that frames his face. You begin to hum, doing your best to imitate the song, a little bit off-key and not quite as confident as Kabukimono’s version, but recognizable all the same. Kabu drops his hand from his face and his smile widens, a touch of softness easing the corners of his eyes.

“That was perfect,” he says to you quietly. “Just the same as I remember.”

 ---

“Okay, so, I read about this one in a book,” Kabukimono tells you, and you can’t help but be endeared by his excited nervousness. You and he have mostly undressed by this point, only left in your underwear, your other clothes long since discarded as you’d indulged Kabukimono’s growing curiosity. 

You let him manipulate you as he takes your legs and parts them, settling in the space between and pauses, eyes darting back and forth in a way that tells you he’s searching his memory for the next step.

“We can just keep doing what we usually do,” you tell him, using your heel to knock against his lower back. “It doesn’t have to be complicated or anything.”

“But I want to try other things!” Kabukimono protests. “How else am I supposed to expand on existing knowledge?”

“Okay, we’ll do it your way,” you let him manipulate you again, this time moving so he’s partially straddling you, slotting your legs together. Suddenly, you have a feeling you know where he’s taking this.

He drops his clothed crotch onto yours unceremoniously, face scrunched in concentration. For a second nothing happens, and he looks like he’s about to be incredibly disappointed, so you take a bit of initiative and cant your hips just a tad.

Kabu freezes and a cut-off squeak escapes his mouth as you grind your clit against his. You do it again, and his eyebrows climb into his bangs. 

“Oh!” He exclaims, rolling his own hips experimentally. A grin of delight comes over him as he comes to the realization.

You’re unprepared for how quickly he takes to it, bending toward you to roll your clothed cunts together, and you sink further into the pile of cushions from the force of it.

“This is great,” he gasps, wonder playing on his face. You laugh breathlessly and reach up to stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Ah- I can’t believe how good this feels, how good you feel.”

You briefly lament the distance between the two of you due to this position, wishing you could wrap him in your arms and eat his pleasure whole. He’s purring so loud that you can feel the vibration of it where your bodies connect. 

It doesn’t surprise you too much that Kabu comes first, his thighs tensing around yours as he soaks through both layers of underwear between you. He whines and bites back a sob as he continues to grind against you, overstimulating himself as he chases your peak. 

The wet friction of the cloth and the sight of him biting his lip to stifle the rest of his noises is what does it for you. You tumble headlong into your orgasm, and you feel him give a valiant twitch against you again.

You give in to your desires and pull him down into your embrace, and he follows along gladly. He collapses onto you, causing you both to exhale with the impact, and wraps his arms around your torso. He buries his face in your shoulder as you bring one hand up to stroke his hair.

“Is that what you were hoping for?” You ask him, your heartbeat racing as you come down from your high. He nods against you, cheerfully sucking a mark into your neck.

“Mhm,” he agrees wordlessly, and after a minute or so he props himself up on his elbows, his body never leaving yours. You hook your ankles over his, holding him in place.

He looks down at you, considering. “So there’s this other thing I read about…”

----- ⚘ -----

Wanderer: Pick up the receiver, I'll make you a believer

The lecture is so indescribably boring that you’ve begun doodling all over your notes, filling every empty space with little cats and plants and stick figures with swords.

Beside you, Wanderer rests his head in one hand, elbow resting on the desk, his other hand lazily flipping his pen. He watches you out of the corner of his eye, holding back a snort as your eyelids and your own slowly begin to droop. He glances around quickly, ensuring nobody else is looking in this direction, then reaches out to you with his mind.

It takes no effort at all to impress the subtle thought of taking a nap into your tired brain. Within moments, you’ve begun to slump over, eyes closed and breathing softly.

 Wanderer’s arm reaches around you and pulls you just enough so that you are leaning on him as you sleep. With his other hand, he takes your pen and puts it aside before it can leak all over your notes. Curiously, he peeks at your drawings.

Wanderer doesn’t laugh, but it’s a near thing. There's stick figures of himself, Kabukimono, and Scaramouche in little scratchy renditions of the trio’s daily mishaps. He didn’t realize Scaramouche ended up the most unfortunate of the three of them, having been the butt of the joke most often.

Taking his own pen, Wanderer decides to add a bit of embellishment to some of the doodles. Satisfied with his work, he sits back and listens to the rest of the lecture.

You wake up an hour later thanks to the cacophony of the lecture hall as students pack up their belongings, announcing the end of the lesson. You push off of your temporary pillow with a half-coherent noise, feeling the indent his clothes made on your cheek.

You grab your own notebook, intending to put it away as well, when you notice the new addition to your drawings, and you laugh loud enough to scare yourself fully awake.

Wanderer had drawn giant cartoon dicks onto your stick figures of him. 

“What,” Wanderer says, smirk audible in his voice. “You don’t like it? I think it suits me.” 

“You are SO lucky this wasn’t the notebook that we have to hand in to the professor,” you wag your finger at him playfully. “Do you know how much work it would be to recopy all of my notes into a fresh book?”

“Maybe don’t fall asleep somewhere where I can draw in it, then,” Wanderer counters, slinging his book bag over his shoulder. He takes your hand as you finish packing your own bag, and you begin the journey home together.

“Thanks for letting me nap, by the way,” you smile gratefully at him, swinging your clasped hands between you.

“No problem, you can just pay me back later,” Wanderer shrugs. You squint at him suspiciously.

“How do you want me to pay you back?” you ask, already not liking where this is going.

Wanderer’s smirk widens at your predictable reaction. “How about you top, tonight?”

“Nooo!” You wail in despair, dropping his hand like it’s on fire. You stomp ahead, and you can hear Wanderer’s cackles behind you. “This is why I never ask you for anything!”

“Come on, you always make me top, though,” Wanderer needles you in a sing-song voice as he jogs to catch up.

“You do that out of your own choice, bossy!”

 “Can’t you do it for one night?” He asks, giving you puppy eyes that you definitely don’t melt at.

“But I wanna be lazy…” You pout and cross your arms, denying him from taking your hand again. Instead, he puts his hands into the pockets of his shorts and nudges you with his shoulder.

“Should’ve thought of that before you took a nap,” he states simply. “Since you’re sooo well rested, now, I guess you have more energy than I do. Especially since I took all the lecture notes for today, and maybe I’ll share them with you if I’m in a good mood.”

You don’t drop your pout, but you do lean into him as the pair of you walk. 

“Fine, I guess,” you relent with a sigh, not really as disappointed as you’re pretending to be. “Can I use the purple toy?”

“Sure,” Wanderer leans over and gives you a quick peck to your cheek. “Whatever you want, babe.”

---

Whatever your hang ups with topping, it’s all worth it to see Wanderer shaking and moaning under you so prettily. With his elbows braced against the table, head resting on his forearms, the view of his toned back flexing with every movement you make against his sweet spot is incredible.

You run your fingertips over the fabric of your strap where it connects with the purple toy you chose, marveling at just how wet it is. You push into Wanderer again, grinding your own clit against the back of the textured material.

“Maybe you’re right,” you pant, smug as you pound into his greedy hole. “I should top you more often, this is awesome. Who knew you could get this loud?” 

Wanderer makes a valiant attempt to look over his shoulder and scowl at you, but another snap of your hips has him swallowing whatever snarky remark he was about to make at your expense. Another loud whine pulls from his throat, and he bites his own arm to stifle the rest.

You have no idea how many times you’ve made him cum, though you count at least twice based on the growing puddle beneath you. Maybe three. (Very, very distantly, you hope you don’t slip on the wet floor. You’re not sure you could take the embarrassment.)

Another full-body shudder runs through him, and one arm reaches behind himself to grab at your fingers where they’re holding his waist in a grip that would bruise if he were able to. With an airy laugh you bat his hand away. 

“What’s wrong? You asked for this.” You remind him, using both hands to pull him backward onto your toy. You hum lowly as the movement causes the base to rub against you, urging you closer to your own orgasm. 

“Ugh, if I’d known-” he cuts himself off with a reedy cry. You take pity on him, allowing him to slump onto the table. You press into him one more time, remaining still as he fights the overstimulation, twitching around the toy buried inside. “ Ah- if I’d known you’d be this into it, I would've made you do it a lot more.” 

“Sorry, did you say more?” Your smile turns devious as you pull out, to his weak protests, and push back in slowly, building your rhythm again. The squelching noises leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, if anyone were to walk by your room right now.

Wanderer thinks he might be in for a long night.

----- ⚘ -----

Scaramouche: Moment’s Silence

Out of the three of them, you would've expected Scaramouche to be the least tactile. As it turns out, you couldn’t be more wrong. He just doesn’t show it well. Or nicely.

During the day, and in front of anyone else, he remains the grouchy, taciturn puppet you’ve come to know and love. However, when the lights dim and everyone retreats to their respective rooms, his clingier side comes out to bother you.

Which is why you’ve been here for the past thirty minutes, splayed out on your back in the middle of your bed, trying to read one of the many books in your inventory, with the Balladeer on his stomach between your legs doing his utmost to distract you from getting into the plot.

Another jolt of pleasure shakes your concentration, and you lift the book to give a halfhearted glare at Scaramouche, who’s tongue still flicks lazily against you.

“Do you mind?” You huff, nudging him with your leg, to which he responds by grabbing your knee and pushing it back down roughly. “H- hey! If you’re not going to get on with it, can you at least let me finish reading?”

“Shut up,” Scaramouche snaps at you, baring his teeth irritably. “This isn’t about you.”

Despite his harsh demeanor, the next swipe of his tongue is heavy and languid, dragging up the cleft of your sex. You gasp and arch under his touch, and he takes advantage of the moment to slide his hands beneath your back, holding your hips to his face.

“I would say- ah- that you’re eager to please,” you tease him, reaching down to stroke his hair, fingers curling in his indigo locks. “But you always look like- hah- like you have a gun being held to your head when you do this.”

In retaliation, he gives a harsh suck to your swollen clit, quickly followed by him turning his head away (you have to hold back a whine at the loss of stimulation) to bite into the meat of your inner thigh. 

“Ouch! Why?!”

The glare Scaramouche gives you could freeze a hot spring.

 “In what universe would I do something like this if I didn’t want to?” He demands, pulling one of his hands out from beneath you to pinch your sensitive nub, rolling it between his pointer and thumb as you fight and fail to snap your legs closed around his head. 

Without waiting for a response, two of his fingers breach your entrance and slowly spread apart, baring your soft insides to his scrutiny. 

“Why shouldn’t I take advantage of everything you present to me?” He asks, tone reverent as he leans back down and his tongue delves into your cunt. You shiver at the feeling of him licking every slick crevasse, the noises that reach your ears causing you to flush with embarrassment. 

He groans into your skin as he feels you clench around his tongue, the vibrations causing you to squeal and thrash in his grasp. The sheets beneath you are positively soaked with your fluids and his saliva. He twists his fingers inside you just so, and you drop your book with a choked gasp. 

“You taste amazing, I can’t believe you think I don’t want this,” he mutters, his hot breath tickling the insides of your thighs. Your hand in his hair tightens, and you’re not sure if you’re pulling him closer or pushing him away.

“I… I…” 

Your lack of response seems to amuse him and he chuckles against your wet hole. He gently takes his fingers out and uses his slick-damp hand to hook behind your knee and push it up, opening you more to him.

“Such a good boy. Are you close?” He looks up at you through his lashes, licking a heavy stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking the twitching bud between his lips teasingly. “Cum for me, pretty boy. Show me how well I did.”

You’re unable to formulate words as he pushes you over the precipice, throwing your arms over your face as you cry out, hips jerking against his clever tongue. Never once have his eyes left your trembling form.

You’re panting like you’ve just run a marathon, still spasming with the aftershocks, when you feel Scaramouche crawling up the length of your body. You watch through your post-orgasm haze as he licks the mess from his lips and hand. 

“Is that it?” He teases, caging your head with his arms as he leans down, breathing into your space. “I thought you wanted me to ‘get on with it’.”

Your brain is still in the process of rebooting, and he laughs mockingly at your fucked out expression. Your head falls back as you try to catch your breath, and you feel more than see him as he shucks his own shorts off, grabbing the headboard with both hands as he straddles your shoulders.

“Come on, where’s your manners?” He croons, voice hitching as your eyes finally come into focus, greeted by the sight of his own slick, fluttering hole. “I think you know how to say ‘thank you’.”

No need to be told twice. Your hands come up to hold his waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the divots at his hips. You watch with rapture as his expression changes as you slowly pull him down to your mouth.

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

This just fits the chapter so much LMFAOO

Chapter 6: The Shattered Crew 

A/N: 

Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (Here).

Sanji X Reader, OP X Reader, Sanji x Y/N

Y/N POV… 

Flying through the air, you feel the wind whip against your face, a sensation of soaring at a breakneck speed. “Am I dead?” you think, your mind struggling to grasp the surreal experience. Slowly, you open one eye, squinting through the haze to see the clouds above and the sea far below. Pain radiates through your body, each jolt reminding you of the injuries you've sustained.

“Why am I floating?” you wonder, the realization of what’s happened crashing down on you. “Kuma, my friends disappearing… Sanji’s kiss!” The memory of Sanji’s desperate, passionate kiss floods back, and a pang of rage hits you.Your mad at him because he just kissed you and launched you to Luffy. "Did he really just do that?!"

Your thoughts are abruptly cut off as you crash-land onto an island. The impact is jarring, sending shockwaves of pain through your already battered body. The world spins and blurs as you lie there, succumbing to the exhaustion that finally overtakes you.

As you fade in and out of consciousness, you catch glimpses of people huddling over you. A hand gently touches your face, and you hear a muffled, urgent voice. “Take her to the village and quickly! Her injuries are far too much.”

Your vision darkens, and the last thing you feel is the gentle but firm touch of the strangers as they lift you. The world fades to black once more, and you succumb to the darkness, your mind haunted by the echoes of those you’ve lost. 

You wake up with a groan as the bright light hits your sensitive eyes. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the brightness. As your vision clears, you realize you’re in a hospital room. The sterile white walls and the soft beeping of medical equipment are unfamiliar.

You attempt to sit up, but a sharp pain shoots through your body, causing you to cry out in agony. Almost immediately, a doctor and a male nurse rush into the room. The doctor’s face shows a mix of relief and concern, while the nurse has a reassuring smile.

“Good! You’re awake!” the doctor says, his voice warm but filled with urgency. “You were on the brink of death if it weren’t for our soldiers bringing you here!”

The nurse steps closer, adjusting your IV and checking your vitals. “You gave us quite a scare. We’re glad you’re stable now.”

Groaning, you try to focus on them, your mind still foggy from the recent events. “How long was I out for?” you ask, wincing as you move.

The doctor glances at the nurse before answering, “About a day.”

Your eyes bulge in shock. “A day?! I have to go!” You try to scramble off the bed, but the pain and weakness make your movements awkward and unsteady. “I need to get back to Sabaody! If you have a boat, I need to leave before the third day! All my friends will be waiting!”

The doctor moves to steady you, his expression turning serious. “I understand your urgency, but unfortunately, you’ll need to speak with the king of the island. He’s the one who grants permission for ships to leave. And he’s known to be the toughest fighter here.”

Your desperation is evident as you look up at him. “The king? How can I talk to him? I need to go now!” I went to reach my vivre card that was laying on the table next to you.  

The nurse steps forward, his expression sympathetic. “The king is a formidable warrior and a crucial figure here. It’s not easy to see him, and he’s known for being very strict about who he allows to leave. But if you want to get back to your friends, it’s the only way.”

The doctor nods in agreement. “We’ll arrange for you to meet with him as soon as possible. For now, focus on resting and recovering. Your health is the priority.”

You collapse back onto the bed, frustration and anxiety written all over your face. “Please, do everything you can to help me. I can’t afford to lose any more time.”

The nurse places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll do our best. Rest for now, and we’ll make sure you’re seen by the king as soon as possible.”

As the doctor and nurse leave the room to make the necessary arrangements, you lie back, your mind racing with worry for your friends and the time slipping away.

Sanji's POV…

"My dearest Nami, my sweet Robin, my beautiful Y/N... It's been a while. How are you three doing? As for me, I’m..." A few hours before...

I’m struggling to open my eyes. The smell of the ocean lingers in the air, and I groan as I manage to lift my head slightly. Above me, a heart-shaped rainbow stretches across the sky. My body feels like it’s on fire, every muscle aching, as if I’ve been through a war.

Realization hits me after a few minutes. Kuma… My crew disappearing… And then… Y/N…

My eyes bug out of their sockets as I remember. "Y/N!" I shout, trying to leap up, but pain betrays my body, forcing me to stay on the sand. I’m exhausted, my body drifting in and out of consciousness. "Where the hell am I?" I mutter weakly.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" A gentle voice reaches me, but it’s muffled. "Mister, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

I can’t make out what she looks like, my vision blurring as exhaustion takes over. I finally let it win, darkness swallowing me whole.

Some time later...

I wake up again, but this time, I’m resting in the lap of the same lady. She’s gently wiping the dirt and debris from my face with a handkerchief. Her scent is sweet, soothing, and for a moment, I’m lost in it. "Am I… in the lap of a beautiful woman?" I wonder aloud, my thoughts hazy. "Is it… Nami? Maybe Robin? Or perhaps Y/N?" My heart races at the thought, but no… it can’t be.

Despite my fatigue, I reach up, grinning like a fool, and grab her arm. “No way, I want to stay here forever.”

She freezes under my touch, and then, without a word, she gets up and runs away.

“Hey, wait a minute, come back!” I call after her, but she’s gone. I blink, sitting up. “I guess it wasn’t a dream…” I mutter, noticing the handkerchief she left behind. Flipping it over, I see the name ‘Elizabeth’ embroidered on it.

With a groan, I get up slowly, my body still weak, and start walking. "I still don’t have a damn clue where I’m at." I glance around, the scenery unfamiliar. "Maybe I died and gone to heaven?" I say, half-jokingly, though part of me wonders if it’s true.

Then, a sudden thought hits me. “I sense romance in the air,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head almost immediately. "No, no, I can’t think of such things like that." I take out my vivre card and look at it, the reminder of what’s truly important. "Nami, Robin, and Y/N are waiting for me."

I sigh, a heartfelt, conflicted sigh, clutching the handkerchief to my chest. "But the least I can do is thank her for her kindness!" I declare, determination sparking in my tired body. After all, a gentleman must always be courteous to a lady.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I started running in the direction the woman—Elizabeth—had gone. My heart pangs with guilt as I imagine the looks on Nami, Robin, and Y/N’s faces. “Nami, Robin, Y/N… please forgive me for being unfaithful,” I whisper under my breath, but I keep running, hoping to find Elizabeth and express my gratitude. 

Y/N POV: 

You continue to stare at the vivre card Shakky handed you, watching the small piece of paper begin to slowly move. With a sigh, you gaze out the window from your bed, wondering where everyone else landed and hoping they were all safe. "I wonder what the crew is doing," you mutter, the words heavy with longing.

Finally, you manage to stand and walk slowly to the mirror. The reflection that meets you is almost unrecognizable—a shell of the person you once were. Your hair is disheveled, your body wrapped in bandages, and your right thigh, where the bandage is beginning to unravel, reveals a small scar. A constant reminder of what happened that day.

You shake your head, trying to push the dark thoughts away. "No," you whisper to yourself. "Now is not the time to mope. I have to keep going." Just as you're about to put on your clothes, the door opens, and the male nurse enters. A faint blush creeps across his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you. Realizing your predicament, you quickly grab the sheets from the bed and wrap them around yourself, securing your body.

The nurse stumbles over his words, trying to explain, "Your clothes were too damaged to wear, so I brought some traditional wear for you." You look at the clothes, puzzled, given that this is a male-only island. The shirt looks more like a dress but fits you nicely. As you start to speak, the nurse cuts you off, "They belong to my sister, actually. We weren't always an all-male island... but for some reason, all the women suddenly disappeared."

You step forward, wrapping your arms around the nurse, feeling the hesitation in his body before he slowly relaxes and returns the embrace. His warmth offers a small comfort in the midst of all the chaos you've endured.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "For everything. I can't imagine what it's like to lose so many people, especially your sister... But I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to help, starting with this challenge."

The nurse holds you a little tighter before letting go, a mixture of relief and sadness in his eyes. "You remind me of her," he says quietly. "Strong, determined... She would have liked you."

Before you can respond, the male doctor enters the room, his expression serious but not unkind. "The King has an opening tonight," he informs you, his gaze flicking briefly to the nurse before returning to you. "It’s rare for someone to get a chance to face him so soon, but you’ll need all your strength. He's known to be the toughest fighter on the island."

You nod, determination hardening your resolve. "Okay," you say, glancing between the doctor and the nurse. "Let’s go. I need to get back to my crew, and if facing the King is the way to do it, then I’m ready."

The nurse gives you a small, encouraging smile. "We’ll be with you every step of the way," he says, his voice full of quiet strength. "Just... be careful. The King isn’t someone to take lightly."

You offer him a reassuring smile, despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. "I’ll be careful," you promise, "but I won’t back down. My friends are waiting for me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get back to them."

With that, you gather your blades, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Sanji POV… 

After a few minutes, I arrived at a quaint home that matched the style of Elizabeth's handkerchief. Knocking on the door, I made my presence known. "Lady Elizabeth, it's me, Sanji," I called out. "I came here to return your handkerchief."

I heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking on the floor as someone approached from the other side. The door creaked open, and just as I flashed my best smile, she yanked the handkerchief out of my hand and retreated back inside.

"Hey, you never let me say thanks!" I called after her, trying to keep my cool. "Don’t rush, Sanji. She’s probably a shy and innocent girl. Be cool, have a little patience." I continued to talk to her behind the closed door, trying to engage her in conversation.

Elizabeth, from the other end, began asking me a series of questions, which I eagerly answered. She seemed particularly curious about dresses. I paused for a moment, pondering her interest, and then it hit me—she must be trying to make a love connection. The thought brought a grin to my face.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Elizabeth stood there, inviting me inside. Stepping into her home, I started to flirt, my charm in full swing. Her back was turned to me, and I imagined her blushing from my words. But then, she abruptly turned around and ran towards me.

"Oh, Elizabeth! Leap into my arms, love struck—" I began, but before I could finish, she shoved an outfit into my arms, catching me completely off guard. The force of it sent me sprawling flat on my back.

Confused, I looked up as Elizabeth leaned over me, a mischievous grin on her face. "This outfit would look amazing on you," she declared.

I blinked, my mind racing to make sense of what was happening. Then, it dawned on me—this wasn't the romantic encounter I had imagined. "Wait a minute… What’s going on here?"

Elizabeth straightened up, her grin widening. "Welcome to Kamabakka Kingdom," she said, her tone cheerful but with an edge that sent chills down my spine.

Panic gripped me as the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. This wasn't just any island—this was that island. 

My eyes widened, and without another word, I scrambled to my feet and bolted for the door. "My dearest Nami, my sweet Robin, my beautiful Y/N... It's been a while. How are you three doing? As for me, I’m—well, how do I put this..."

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my heart pounding in my chest as the gravity of my situation sank in. I have to get out of here… and fast!

Y/N POV…

You begin to exit the hospital quarters, the sunlight filtering through the leaves as you stretch your arms out, feeling the pull of your muscles. It’s a small comfort after being bedridden for so long. Before heading to the King's quarters, you glance back at the nurse. "Is there an isolated area where I can practice with my blade before meeting the King?"

The nurse nods and leads you to a secluded part of the island. The clearing is quiet, with only the rustle of leaves and the distant sound of waves. Perfect. You unsheathe your blade, feeling its familiar weight in your hand.

Taking a deep breath, you step into the clearing and begin to move, launching blow after blow with precision and speed. Your blade slices through the air, cutting trees left and right with swift, effortless movements. The sound of wood splintering echoes around you as you continue to push yourself, testing your limits.

"Still got it," you mutter with a smirk, satisfied with your performance.

Both the male doctor and nurse stand still, their eyes wide in admiration. Despite your injuries, you wield your blade with deadly precision. Maybe, just maybe, this will be enough to defeat the King.

You sheath your blade with a confident flourish and turn to the medics. Grinning, you tell them, "Now, shall we?" They nod, preparing to lead the way, but before you can take a step, you hear a distant coo.

You pause, recognizing the sound. "A news coo?" you wonder aloud. Curiosity piqued, you reach out and grab the newspaper it drops. Unfolding it, your eyes scan the headlines, and suddenly, your heart stops.

"Ace… Ace has died at Marineford. And Luffy… Luffy was there trying to rescue him."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Luffy!" you yell, your voice trembling with shock.

The medics exchange worried glances. "Luffy? What happened?" the nurse asks, his voice tinged with concern.

You can barely speak, your mind racing with the implications of what you’ve just read. Shaking, you release the paper, letting it flutter to the ground. "No… This can’t be happening."

The urgency of the situation hits you like a tidal wave. There’s no time to waste. You need to get to Luffy, to find out if he’s safe. Your heart pounds in your chest as you make a decision. "I need to get a ship. Now."

The doctor steps forward, a determined look on his face. "We'll help you, but you have to stay focused. If you want to defeat the King, you can't let your emotions get the better of you."

You nod, trying to steady your breathing. "I understand… but Luffy is my captain, my friend. I have to know he's okay."

The nurse, his expression softening, places a hand on your shoulder. "We’ll get you to the King, and once you’re finished, we’ll help you find a way off this island."

You take a deep breath, pushing down the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Thank you," you say, your voice resolute. "Let’s go."

As you follow the medics towards the King's quarters, your thoughts are consumed by the news of Ace and Luffy. Your grip tightens around your blade. Luffy… just hold on. I’ll find you. I promise.

Kings Quarters…

You arrive at the King’s quarters, taking in the sight of men being carried out, each one more battered than the last. You let out a low whistle, then turn to the nurse. "You weren’t kidding... actually, I never got your names?"

The nurse and doctor exchange glances before the nurse smiles and says, "I’m Sam," and the doctor adds, "And I’m John."

A smile crosses your face as you nod, revealing your own name. Their eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, they seem stunned. You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks, but before you can say more, you hear the booming voice of the King.

"Who dares challenge me next?" he bellows.

You glance at Sam and whisper, "He’s so young."

Sam nods, explaining, "He took the throne at 20 after his father passed.Hes been King for about 8 years now"

The King's eyes fall on you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "A woman? There haven’t been any women on this island for ages. You think you can challenge me?"

Without a word, you draw your blade and execute a swift, precise movement. The air around you crackles as the force of your strike splits a nearby stone pillar in two. The room falls silent, and the King’s smirk fades, replaced with a look of intrigue. 

You square your shoulders, meeting his gaze. "You’ll find that I’m more than capable, Your Majesty. I’m here for a ship, and I intend to earn it.”

Amused, the King rises from his throne, descending the steps to face you directly. "Impressive," he says, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "Let’s see if you can back up that skill in battle." 

The fight begins with a tense silence as the King, without drawing any weapons, assumes a combat stance. You tighten your grip on your blade, determined to give everything you have.

As you launch the first strike, the King effortlessly dodges, his movements swift and precise. He counters with a punch aimed straight at your midsection. The force of the blow is overwhelming, knocking the wind out of you as you cough up a bit of blood.

From the sidelines, Sam watches in horror. "John, I’m worried," he whispers, his voice shaking. "She’s strong, but the King… he’s something else."

You grit your teeth, pushing through the pain, and manage to land a strike on the King's cheek. But before you can feel any sense of victory, he slams his fist into the ground, splitting the room into two. Shocked, you mutter, "How did he do that?"

The King doesn’t give you time to recover. He comes at you with a relentless barrage of blows, each one heavier than the last. You struggle to keep up, your body growing weaker with each impact. Finally, a powerful punch sends you crashing to the ground, and your vision starts to blur. The sound of cheering male voices fills the room as you fade in and out of consciousness.

Just as Sam moves to help you, the King notices and orders his men to seize him. "Throw him in the pit!" the King commands, his voice cold and merciless.

Sam struggles against the soldiers, fear evident in his eyes. As they drag him toward the pit, you summon the last of your strength, forcing yourself to stand. The world spins around you, but you refuse to let Sam suffer. With a surge of adrenaline, you yell, "Sam, duck!" and with one swift movement, you strike down each soldier, sending them plummeting into the pit instead.

Sam looks up at you, his expression a mix of confusion and gratitude. "Why did you help me?" he asks, his voice trembling.

You sheathe your blade and offer him a faint smile. "You helped me when I was injured. We’re friends now."

With that, you and Sam help each other up and make your way out of the chamber, John quickly joining your side. As you exit, you can feel the King’s gaze on you. He watches the entire scene with a smirk, turning to his men. "Who is she?" he asks, his tone laced with curiosity. "And what was she doing on this island?"

>

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OMG!!! Looks like things are about to be good! For this chapter, I wanted to pace it the same way as the anime had it. Sanji heading to Kamabakka Kingdom always makes me laugh so much! Next Chapter will be funny. Sanji is going to meet with Ivankov, and their interaction will be funny. You also are getting another news coo paper which will then reveal the fate of the strawhats crew. Thank you guys for following, sharing, reblogging, and liking my Story! I can't wait for y'all to read what's next! As always the chapters are all linked. See you Tomorrow!

[djarinslover]

Wanna Be Your Girlfriend

Hii, this is based off the ask *here*. I'm desperate for more Nami fic ideas, so feel free to send asks in. I mean, LOOK at her. She's beautiful and I would die for her. I tried to keep the scene recaps short bc I'm sure mostly everyone has watched the show and don't need to read what happens too. Happy reading!

Pairing; Nami x Fem!Reader (no y/n, no description)

Warnings; canon violence, swearing

Word Count; 2.2k

You're sitting with Zoro after Zeff helped patch him up. You're the surgeon of the crew but you never had to deal with wounds like the one Zoro was suffering with. It was your first time seeing a wound like that. You mainly dealt with bruises, cuts, scrapes and the occasional broken bone back home in your village. Nami wanders in, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Hey, how are you doing?" she asks.

"Me?" You turn to look at her. "I'm fine. It's Zoro we should be worrying about."

"I can worry about both of you."

You feel your face grow hot. Ever since you joined Luffy's crew, you've developed a crush on the redheaded navigator. You thought she was a badass, kind (when she wanted to be) and a cool person to be around. You wanted to know everything about her, wanted to be around her constantly. But to make sure you didn't come off as a lovesick puppy, you steered clear of spending too much time with Nami. She probably didn't even feel the same way and there was no sense in trying to encourage the crush when you had to spend weeks on a ship with no escape. Unless you wanted to take your chance with the ocean.

"Can I have a minute with him?" Nami interrupts your train of thought.

"Of course!"

You check over Zoro's bandages quickly before leaving the room in search of Luffy or Usopp. Zoro was the only one who knew about the crush you had. That was simply because he caught you rehearsing what you would say to Nami during literally any interaction. He was good at keeping his mouth shut, so if you had to wish one of them caught you, you were glad it was him. Luffy and Usopp wouldn't be able to make it past dinner before they let something slip.

You wander from the ship back onto the dock just to see Luffy being thrown through the door of the restaurant. In shock, you watch as Arlong stomps towards him. Fear gripped your limbs as you watched the two fight. You couldn't do anything - you were a doctor, not a fighter! As Arlong goes to sink his teeth into Luffy's neck, Nami's voice calls out.

"Arlong, wait!"

She marches past without even looking at you. You watch as she walks towards the fishman, map of the Grand Line in hand. "I have it. I have the map. I got it for you, just like I said I would."

"Nami. What are you doing?" Luffy pants out.

"I tried to tell you, Luffy. I was never on your crew. I only joined up with you so I could steal the map."

You feel like everything goes silent as her words hit your ear. The world spins around you, making you nauseous as Nami walks to Arlong's ship. Arlong throws Luffy into the ocean, casting you a glance before following the redhead to his ship. You're torn between going after Nami and jumping in to get Luffy. Both moments pass you by as the ship sets sail and Sanji jumps in to save your captain. He heaves him onto the dock as you snap out your stupor and rush to help.

Luffy lifts his head as he asks, "Where's Nami?"

"She's gone. She's a member of Arlong's crew," Usopp answers.

An hour later, after setting sail, you're sitting in the galley staring at your hands. You couldn't wrap your head around what had just happened. No way Nami went with Arlong. No way she betrayed you and the rest of the crew. No way she was only on the ship to just to steal a map. You didn't want to believe she had been lying the entire time you knew her, that she didn't care for you. For the crew.

Luffy comes in with Usopp, Sanji and Zoro followeing close behind, his usual grin on his face. You eye him skeptically, frown deepening as he walks to the table you're sitting at.

"What are you possibly smiling about? Nami left us!"

"Don't worry about that. We're going to get her back. We can't go to the Grand Line without all of our crew."

"What?" You shoot to your feet. "You mean it?"

"Of course. A good pirate captain never lets a member of his crew stay behind."

Your throat feels tight and your eyes burn with the threat of tears. Luffy was going to get Nami back. You couldn't ask for a better captain. Straightening up, you look him in the eye. "Thank you, Luffy."

"So, we're going after Nami. How are we going to find her?" Usopp asked.

"Yeah, we don't even know where she is," Zoro chimed in.

"I know someone who does." He slams a bag onto the table, causing whatever was in it to groan. He opened it, presenting Buggy the clown's head. You jolt back in disgust.

"Hello, boys!" the clown head cheers, giggling.

You end up in Coco Village to look for Nami, according to Buggy that's where Arlong and his crew lived. You follow Luffy to where Nami is talking to a villager, looking for the ransom money the fishman is owed for the month. When she turns around to find the five of you standing there, she hesitates. You feel your heart speed up - you were unsure if it was because of the betrayal you felt or the longing of wanting to be with Nami.

"Luffy? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"This is where I belong."

"I don't believe that," Luffy says. "This is not you."

"No. This isn't the me you want me to be," Nami spits out.

"Nami . . . if you need our help-"

"No. I don't need any of you."

Her eyes linger on you for a moment too long that makes you sick. You would've cut your heart out for her before if she asked. Now she's here saying she doesn't want you.

"I never want to see you again." Her eyes once more meet yours before she turns and walks away, taking your shattered heart with her.

You numbly follow Luffy to the house on the edge of the tangerine grove. You barely processed Nami leaving you in the first place, now you had to deal with her never wanting to see you again. Were all those little moments you had with her fake? Nothing more than an act? You didn't want to believe it, that your feelings were completely one-sided.

In the house at the end of the tangerine grove Nojiko, Nami's sister, invites you in after being promised a meal from Sanji. She told you what happened to their mother when they were young and why she, and the town, hated Nami. You began to understand why she betrayed you; you may have even done the same thing if you were in the same situation. Instead of staying angry at Nami, you directed that rage to Arlong and the rest of his crew for exploiting Nami's pain.

After helping Sanji do the dishes, everyone rushes outside when you heard commotion. Nami was stabbing herself in the arm before Luffy grabbed her arm. The two spoke for a while, you itching to bandage Nami's cuts. In front of you, the small town of Coco Village was on fire thanks to Arlong.

"Let's go," Luffy rasps.

"Right!" the four of you chime.

You run to Nami's side with bandages, cleaning the cuts before she even realizes what you're doing. She flinches when she finally notices you, trying to inch her arm out of your grasp. You grip her arm ever so slightly roughly to make sure she doesn't move it more.

"You shouldn't even be doing this for me."

"Why? You're injured. It's my job to help."

"But I was such an ass to all of you," Nami whispers. "Especially to you."

"None of that matters. Your sister told us what happened to your mother. I forgive you, Nami."

Fresh tears sparkle in her beautiful eyes. You brush them away with a soft touch to her cheek, finishing wrapping her arm with the gauze and then helping her stand. "Let's go kick some fish ass."

Storming the park as the sun rises, you help Zoro and Sanji fight the pirates trying to protect 'Arlong Park'. It was surprisingly satisfying to punch several of them in the face.

"Damn, Doc," Zoro whistles. "Remind me to never piss you off."

"For someone who swore she doesn't to hurt others, you're doing well," Sanji comments.

"Yeah, well . . . they hurt someone I care about. It becomes personal then."

You notice the smirk Zoro throws you but refuse to acknowledge it. When you see Nami speeding down the hill, your heart jumps to your throat. She crashes into Usopp and Zoro first, panting, "I'm so glad you're okay."

She lets them go, turning to you to smile her bright beautiful smile. "I'm glad you're okay, too."

"Me, too. Uh . . . I mean, you too. I mean-" You sigh, biting your tongue.

Suddenly, the ground rumbles. The building that Luffy was still in was falling down. With a gasp, Nami grabs your hand tightly, lacing your fingers together. You could barely enjoy the moment through fearing for Luffy's safety once more. But the fear wasn't needed; your rubbery captain was fine as per usual. You squeeze Nami's hand in relief.

Later, after the confrontation with Luffy's grandfather, you're sitting next to Nami by a fire. "Lots of excitement today, huh?" you say.

"Yeah. I'm going to sleep for a week after all this," she answers.

Swallowing, you decide it's now or never. "Nami, I wannabeyourgirlfriend," you rush out.

"I'm . . . sorry?"

"I want to be your girlfriend."

She looks at you in surprise, making your cheeks flare with heat. What if you just made an absolute fool of yourself in front of her and now you have to deal with the consequences for the rest of your life on that damned ship?

Nami must've known you were in your head because she places a hand on your cheek to bring your gaze back to hers. She has the bright smile on her face. "I thought you'd never say anything. Usopp owes me twenty Berry."

"You placed a bet on when I'd ask you? Wait, when did you even know?"

"I've liked you for a while now. I just didn't want to say anything because I knew what I was going to have to do." She shrugged. "I didn't want to hurt you. Then when Usopp asked when I thought you would confess, I figured it had to be obvious I liked you, too. Guess it just took a dickhead fishman to make you see, huh?"

You laugh, utterly overjoyed with the fact that Nami likes you too. She likes you and wants to be with you. "I guess so. But hey, at least I finally got there, right?"

She nudges you with a laugh. "Right." Nami's gaze softens as she looks at you. "Meet me in the morning? There's someone I want you to meet."

"Sure."

The next morning, you meet Nami outside the entrance of the hut you slept in. She took your hand with a grin, leading you to a part past the tangerine grove. There was a large tree with a stake next to it, the name Belle Mere carved into it. You look at your new girlfriend curiously. She blushes.

"This is my mom. I wanted to bring you here. Two of the most important women in my life."

Tears burn in the corner of your eyes as you look down at the grave. You take her hand, running your thumb softly over hers. "I'm so glad you wanted to introduce us." You direct your next sentence to Belle. "You raised an incredible, amazing daughter. I hope you're immensely proud of her."

Nami is staring at you with stars in her eyes, squeezing your hand. She brings you closer to her until you're standing pressed against one another. She cups your face with her free hand, eyes darting all over your face, brushing a stray tear off your cheek. You felt the tension swell, anxiety building up in your chest until you say -

"Kiss me."

Nami swoops in, leaning down to press her lips to yours. The bliss you feel is blinding as you finally get to kiss her. It's soft, sweet, everything you imagined it would be. When you part, you're both breathless. You meet her piercing gaze.

"You're not leaving again, are you?" you ask.

She brings your intwined hands up to her lips, kissing the back of your hand. "If I ever leave, you're coming with me. But no, I'm not leaving. Not until we find the One Piece."

The two of you share one more kiss, giddiness filling each step you take back to the ship.

[coralpaperthoughts]

I will never understand ppl who hate/anti ANY of the members of the Gaang, or even any of the other kids. coz they are just kids. in the middle of a fucking war. of course they're gonna fuck up and make mistakes and be little shits, THEY ARE 12-16 !! ALL OF THE GAANG (including Zuko but excluding Suki) HAVEN'T HAD PROPER SOCIALISATION WITH OTHER KIDS THEIR AGE UNTIL THEY MET EACH OTHER !!

and yes, you could argue that Katara and Sokka had each other, but that's siblings and siblings are not the same as friends, and also Sokka was the only teen boy left in the tribe and I think Katara was the only teen girl too (might be wrong there tho)

you could also argue that Aang had friends before he got stuck in the iceberg so he did actually have that socialisation, but bro is fucking 12 and he was stuck in an iceberg for a hundred fucking years and had the whole avatar thing weighing down on his shoulders, cut the boy some slack ???

Toph and Zuko were both Rich Noble Kids™ so they automatically did not get proper socialisation with other kids their age. Toph was sheltered from the outside world because she's blind and a young girl, but yes she did go to that underground boxing ring but that was mainly adults, I highly doubt she was hanging about with kids there and definitely not in normal circumstances.

And although Mai and Ty Lee were there, they were Azula's "companions" (not originally meant to be friends but may have ended up as so after the war) and they weren't there for Zuko, they were there for Azula only. I'm pretty sure Zuko spent most of his time with tutors or with his mother before she left, he didn't get any socialisation with normal kids and he definitely did not get a normal childhood.

None of them got a normal childhood, so can you really blame any of them for being manipulative or assholes or doing dumb shit, whilst still being a kid/teen !!! and then being bad parents too, when they literally have no good role model to go off of (love Hakoda but bro was not there for his kids for a good couple of years and that does a lot to a kid)

edit: also Azula deserved a redemption/healing arc because she was a victim of abuse as much as Zuko was. she was in fact just a child, as much as the rest of them were, and deserved better. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk 🙏

edit 2: Jet also deserved a chance at healing. like bro watched his village burn and was the sole survivor, he probably has mega survivor's guilt that isn't touched upon in the show, like his hate for the fire nation is pretty rational and his actions (to an extent) are justified. all I'm saying is that if he had anybody else in his corner, that wasn't more angsty, out-for-revenge teens or kids, he could have had a much nicer life. one that didn't lead him to his downfall.

[imagines--galore]

Kili x reader angst where they're courting so reader has in the braids and beads et. But reader gets taken during a fight as a prisoner and they punish her by cutting off her hair n such and she's so apologetic and guilty to kili when he sees but he just sees red because whoever they were fighting violated his love (cuz in dwarf culture that's cruel). Angst comfort mega combo

Pairing: Kili x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Angst. Comfort. A bit of fighting and a bit of trauma but thats it.

A/N: Moving from one city to the other really takes it out of ya. Anyway! I am now back and writing again. Omg I LOVE this request so much! Much fluff. Much feels. :3

Also I am now taking requests so go ahead and send me stuff. You can find my rules here. Please send me stuff to write!

You couldn’t help but feel giddy. More then once your hand would raise to the newly formed braid in your hair. It rested beside your left temple and you could still feel the warmth of Kili’s fingers where he had braided it not even a few hours ago. It felt strange to have a new braid, but one you were more then proud to wear. The bead and braid both signified your status with the Royal Family. But more then that. It told the world that you and Kili belonged to one another.

Placing the last of the packs onto the cart, you gave a small nod to the driver who stirred the ponies into motion and began carting the now loaded goods back to Erebor. You had been traveling with the tradesmen to exchange goods with a nearby village. Your ailing father had not been able to make the trip, and being his only child, the duty had fallen on your head. Two members of the Royal Family, namely Thorin and Kili had decided to accompany the party in hopes of forming some alliance with the village Master.

It had been the night before that Kili had requested your presence. You had been confused at his strange behavior. Normally, Kili would be full of words and he never had a problem to articulate them. That night though, he had been stumbling over his words and when he had finally caught on to your confusion, he had simply held the bead out to you.

To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

It was true your feelings for the young prince were rather strong and deep, but you had never imagined that his ran just as deep as yours. Tears had filled your eyes, but you had blinked them away before reaching up to pull down the hood of your cloak. Kili had stepped closer, his fingers reaching out to take a section of your hair which he then began to braid. The two of you were silent as he expertly attached the bead with his family crest at the end of the now finished braid. The silence made the moment all the more intimate.

As soon as it was done, you gave him no warning before you had jumped into his arms had embraced him tightly. The small clearing now rang with joyous laughter as he spun you around, before setting you down and sealing the moment with a kiss.

You were so lost in reliving the memory of last night that you did not notice the strange dwarf approaching you from behind. Not until it was too late. 

Fleeing was not an option, as several dwarfs began to attack the ones she had come with. You could only struggle helplessly as you and several other dwarfs were thrown in the back of a cart and the thieves made quick work of escaping, taking whatever loot they had gathered, and whoever they had captured.

Including you.

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

It had all happened rather quickly.

The dwarfs had taken several hostages, including you, but it had taken next to no time for the soldiers of Erebor to be dispatched to rescue everyone. However, the few hours you were held hostage was enough for a few things to transpire.

One of the kidnappers was tormenting an old dwarf, kicking him around to make him walk faster. Not being able to sit quietly, you had snapped at the abuser, prompting him to turn his attention to you. He had told you to shut up, before turning back to his previous task. You had picked up a rock and thrown it at his head, the small projectile meeting its mark.

Only once his attention turned to you, did you realize that perhaps you shouldn’t have done that. He marched over to you, before yanking you away from the group of kidnapped dwarfs huddled together for safety. You had kicked and screamed the entire time, yet your cries fell on deaf ears. Multiple kicks were aimed at your torso and face, yet they did not hurt as much as when the dwarf yanked at your hair.

Once his greedy eyes landed on the bead Kili had gifted you, his lips pulled into a menacing smile. Pulling out a wicked looking dagger, the dwarf carelessly chopped off the braid Kili had so lovingly braided. You barely noticed as the steel of the blade cut across your forehead, you cried in despair as the braid with the bead was thrown in a nearby fire where it smoldered to nothing.

It was only seconds later that the warriors sent to rescue you fell upon the enemy emitting blood curdling war cries. Yet you barely noticed as you continued to stare into the depths of the small fire, tears filling your eyes, as you mourned the loss of something so small, yet so significant.

Feeling a warm hand being placed on your shoulder, you glanced up to see Dwalin looking down at you with a kind and gentle expression. Slowly, you allowed him to guide you to where his pony stood waiting. He helped you onto the animal, before getting behind you. You barely noticed anything and anyone around you as the triumphant rescue party began to trek back to Erebor with the kidnappers in tow.

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

To say Kili was beside himself with worry would be an understatement. The moment he had realized what had happened, and that you had been one of the dwarfs kidnapped, he had wanted to take the first pony and run after you. His uncle, however, had other ideas. Fear of this being a plot to draw the royals of Erebor out in the open, Thorin had decided to send his best warriors, led by Dwalin, to retrieve you and the other dwarfs. Still it did not stop Kili from screaming at his Uncle to let him go, neither did it stop him from telling Fili off for siding with Thorin.

His heart felt as if it would beat right out of his chest. His mind raced with thoughts of you. Every single moment you had both shared, before being replaced by the sight of you broken and hurt lying somewhere out in the open. For hours he paced the ramparts of the mountain, looking over at the horizon, to try and catch a glimpse of the returning warriors.

It was a few hours later that he heard the distant call of a horn. All over the mountain horns began to blow, signalling the return of the rescue party. Kili was the first one at the gates, straining to catch a glimpse of you as the small band of dwarfs approached. Dwalin rode at the very front and reached first. He was quick to dismount, before moving to help lift your trembling body from the back of the pony and set you on the ground.

A wave of dizziness overcame you, as you swayed on your feet, yet the feeling of two familiar arms wrapping around you and supporting your body, was able to give you a little strength. You raised your wide eyes to look at Kili’s face. The sight of him, looking so worried and relieved, broke whatever shred of control you had as you collapsed against him and began to sob over your loss.

“I’m sorry, Kili. I am so sorry. I-I lost the bead you gave me. T-th-they cut my braid and I tried to save the bead but they threw it in the fire. I-I c-couln’t-” Here your strength seemed to fail you as your knees collapsed underneath you. Luckily, Kili was there to catch you. Wrapping his arms more firmly around your frame, he pulled you close. Briefly the world around the two of you disappeared as he comforted you.

His face was buried in your hair as he whispered sweet nothings and reassurances in your ear. Tears streamed down your cheeks and onto his clothes as the trauma finally registered in your mind. So far you had been focused on protecting and helping the other captives. But now? With Kili’s arms around you, you simply could not hold yourself together. Your body shook with each sob as Kili pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

The Dwarf Clan that had decided to attack the citizens of Erebor were more then a little nervous now. They had no idea who you were. No idea that you were the betrothed of a Prince of Erebor. Each dwarf shuffled nervously as Kili finally raised his head to look at each of the dwarfs in turn.

His eyes held a rage that made his hands tremble as his gaze swept over the villains. They would pay. Every single one of them would be held accountable for the horror they had inflicted upon his beloved.

“My son?”

His attention was briefly diverted by the presence of his mother. Behind her stood his Uncle and brother, alongside many other dwarfs who were greeting their own loved ones that had been kidnapped. When they had arrived, Kili had no idea. Dis reached out to gently extract you from his embrace. Kili moved to protest but a look from his mother had him stay silent. “I shall take care of Y/N. See her injuries are not severe.” Her eyes flitted to the captured dwarfs. Kili could see fury in his mother’s eyes as well, mirroring his own. But he knew Y/N needed to be taken away. He had no desire for you to see what he was about to do the captured dwarfs.

Nodding, Kili reached out to press a kiss to your forehead. “I will see you soon, my heart.” He whispered to you in Khuzdul. You raised your tear-stained cheeks to meet his gaze as Dis gently pulled you away. You followed the motherly dwarf after a parting look to your betrothed.

Once you had safely entered the mountain, Kili turned his attention back to the Dwarf Clan that had dared take you from him. He glanced at his brother and Uncle. The former’s anger was equal to his own, since he considered you family and hated to see you hurt and in despair. His Uncle simply raised his hand and spoke. “They will be punished however you see fit, sister-son.”

The dark look that crossed over Kili’s features had the Dwarf Clan regretting what they had done, and praying he would show some leniency.

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

As soon as you had returned to your chambers, Dis had shooed your handmaidens so that they may prepare a warm bath. The older female dwarf had held you close to her side as the handmaidens prepared the bath for you. Though as soon as everything had been laid out and she was in the large tub, you spoke.

"If you don't mind, Mother, I want to be alone."

You didn't want be in anyone's presence at the moment, wanting to grieve the small yet significant loss on your own. Dis seemed to understand the reasoning behind your words and gave a small nod. Once the handmaidens had departed, Dis leaned down to press a motherly kiss to your brow.

"If you need to speak to anyone my dear, let me know." With a parting smile she left.

You had no idea how long you sat in the tub for. Her hand hung around you, unbound and free, floating in the warm water. Taking a small breath, you submerged completely in the water, closing your eyes as you allowed the warmth of the water to envelope your tired aching body. You could've stayed down in the cocoon of safety forever, but you needed to breath.

Emerging from the depths, you took a deep breath.

You didn't know for how long you sat in the water, feeling utterly numb and refusing to let yourself acknowledge what had happened. Perhaps it would be wise to simply move forward from the event.

Pretend it hadn't even happened.

It wasn't until you started to shiver from the now cold water that you stepped out of the bath, and wrapped a warm thick robe around your body. Water trickled from your hair, leaving a small puddle as you walked towards the vanity. Your fingers brushed against the handle of your comb when your gaze shifted to look in the mirror. The sight of your empty eyes, and the lack of the braid Kili had so lovingly put in your hair was the breaking point.

A whimper echoed in your chambers, followed by the sound of sobbing as you let loose the pain and horror. It finally sank in just how frightened you had been. Terrified. And amidst what had happened, you had lost something so so so precious.

The thought only made you sob all the more harder.

You didn't hear the door to your room opening, didn't catch sight of the pained look that overtook Kili's features as he ran to gather you in his arms.

"What is it my heart? What hurts?" He asked, checking you over to make sure there was no serious injury. You shook your head, just clutching to him. It took a little while before your sobs subsided and you calmed down enough to take a deep breath and speak.

"I'm sorry." The word hadn't even left your mouth before Kili cut you off. "You need not be sorry for anything my love. Nothing is your fault." His hand gently caressed the small area near your forehead where your braid had hung just this morning. You averted your gaze, shame coloring your cheeks, but he grasped your chin, and gently turned your head to look at him.

"I ran into Mother on my way hear. And she gave me something." So saying, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small bead. It was beautifully crafted, and she could see the skill behind it despite the tears still welling in her eyes.

"My father gave this to my mother, when they were betrothed. And now she wants you to wear it." Your eyes widened and you shook your head. "Kili, I couldn't this is your father's gift to your mother." You said, leaning away from him slightly.

He smiled. "She considers you a daughter Y/N, she offered this to you. But should you feel strongly about it you can wear this for a few days while I create another betrothal bead for you." He said, his fingers already grasping a new section of your hair. You were silent as he began to braid your hair anew. With each lock of hair intersecting, you could feel your soul being pieced together once more.

Finally, Kili clicked the bead into place, and smiled at you. "Just as beautiful as ever." He said, his eyes meeting yours.

An involuntary giggle fell from your lips at his shameless flirting. One of the many traits that had won you over. "Thank you Kili." You closed whatever space was left between the two of you and pressed your lips to his.

His fingers buried in the hair at the back of your head as he returned the embrace. It was sweet, slow and seemed to sooth whatever leftovers the both of your had. And as he held you, you couldn't help but feel safe and loved.

"I love you, Kili." You breathed against his lips. You could feel him smile gently in response before he whispered back his response.

"And I you, Y/N."

[brights-place]

John Dory x putt putt troll reader?

Please and thank you! :]

John dory X Putt Putt S/O

Pairing: John dory X S/O

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff

A/N: Okay I love the putt putt trolls cause their designs are adorable and so sweet! (๑>؂•̀๑)

- Putt Putt Trolls, also called Golf Trolls just like yourself are Trolls that hail from the Pop Troll tribe that live in a sub-tribe away from the rest of the Tribe... - You and your tribe have been cut off from the other pop trolls for a couple of decades being founded soon after the last Trollstice and the events...

- Putt Putt Trolls like yourself are the first Trolls to be part of a new category after Trolls World Tour introduced the Trolls being identified by their genre of music they based their cultures around thus it marked the return of the older classification - When in Trolls world tour when they went to grab clay you popped out from your fluffy golf ball form with the other putt putt trolls and made eyecontact with John dory and the others - You know the loud scream when Putt Putt Trolls call burgers "meat circles" because the word "burger" sounds like "Bergen" yeah that loud scream was you who literally ran away and rolled away - Turns out you were Viva is bestfriend when everybody got seperated so you were also one of the main defenders of putt putt village - You stood out to John dory with your frizzy or straight hair with your f/c colored hue so a Troll in the Tribe who has blue hair has a similar tone or color body and outfit like you and your f/c body wearing a wool outfit and the similar pattern diamond design - John dory was pulled in by you who was standing beside Clay and Viva protectively eyeing the group down - John dory went over to you and tried to talk to you buy you took a step back in panic cause you really haven't had interactions with others who weren't fellow putt putt trolls - When they took Clay you were gonna chase after them but stayed behind with Viva - After the misson to save floyd - Clay invited all of them to come with him and Viva to have a better look around Putt putt village John dory eyes widened when seeing you again - John dory couldn't help but want to make conversation with you and was interested on how you survived from the bergens like the other putt putt trolls

- TOUCH-STARVED! HE IS TOUCHED STARVE! GIVE HIM HIS AFFECTION! He's love struck when you pepper his face with kisses

- He explores alot so he'd invite you to come with him exploring you both still visit Branch and the others but you both enjoying exploring together for fun - Yet he knew you were still scared of bergens so he tried to help you get rid of that fear which kind of worked - John dory loves you and kisses your cheek

- Dancing together to brozones songs or to songs that you both enjoy.

- he calls you randomly when your mid-conversation with someone and complains to you about how much he misses you

- You two end up on going on a couple of dates with eachother giggling and smiling

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[fourmoony]

Friends or What?

James Potter x F!Reader

A coming of age story in which Potter's Corner Shop has a funny way of bringing people together. Falling in love is daunting when everyone is watching.

Ao3 Link - Series Masterlist - Fourmoony's Masterlist

Chapter Warnings for Chapter Two -

Language. Internalised homophobia. Mentions of physical and emotional abuse. Smoking. Use of the word 'fag', in context to a cigarette (UK Slang)

CHAPTER TWO (4K) -

JAMES

Sirius is quiet in the taxi home. He’s quiet when they shuck their shoes off in the entrance hall of the Potter Estate. He’s quiet as he footers around the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. He’s quiet while he and James stand side by side in their conjoined bathroom, brushing their teeth and washing their faces. He’s quiet, quiet, quiet, and James is starting to worry. The thing about Sirius is – is that he’s loud. In every possible way. Aged eleven, Sirius Black had come bounding into James Potter’s life with his boyish grin and loudmouth attitude, two middle fingers held up to the world and they’d been inseparable since.

James is loud like the sun. He’s funny and he’s charming in a warm, light, happy sort of way. He’s sturdy and reliable, he’s soft and he’s gentle. Sirius is loud like the laughter of a ten-thousand-man crowd. He’s abrasive and he’s obnoxious, he’s rough around the edges but he’s so fucking loyal that James never really stood a chance. He was destined to be Sirius Black’s brother, his best friend, his twin flame. Sirius is rebellious, he’s never been anything except what he wanted to be. He’s jagged and he’s loud and he’s James’ best mate in the entire world.

James knows Sirius like the back of his hand. So, he knows that quiet is not good. Sirius is complex. His past hasn’t been kind to him, and while he’s not the same sixteen-year-old boy that showed up on James’ doorstep seven years ago, battered and bruised, traumatised and a shell of himself, James still worries about him sometimes. Sirius talks about his family less and less as the years go on. James would like to think that, in a way, he’s healed from the trauma of Walburga and Orion Black. There are parts of Sirius that will never come back; his boyish innocence and the warmth he once exuded from his very soul, but James knows that Sirius is better. He doesn’t have nightmares anymore, he doesn’t hide himself away, he doesn’t stash bread and sweeties under his floorboards, he goes to therapy once a week and he’s making changes, for Christ’s sakes.

But James knows, he knows it deep into his fucking core, that the reason Sirius hasn’t told him about Remus, the reason he’s being so quiet, now, is because of his upbringing. It’s a subject he knows will have to be dealt with carefully, untwined with gentle fingers like plucking the thorns from a rose. One wrong word and James is scared Sirius will flee. He doesn’t like change, he doesn’t like lack of control, and if he’s kissing Remus Lupin for any other reason than to get under the poor bloke’s skin, then James is willing to bet Sirius is feeling an overwhelming amount of both.

So, he waits for Sirius to come to him. He sends him off to his own bed with a quiet ‘goodnight’ because he can wait. He will wait. Sirius isn’t ready and that’s okay. The two years James spent without Sirius were, by far, the hardest of his life. The Black’s decided this village was a bad influence, that it bred insubordination, was infecting Sirius’ mind with thoughts of growing up and doing anything but working in politics like the rest of his family. They moved to central London, in the borough of Islington, and that’s where things got really bad. Sirius doesn’t speak about London, much. Only to his therapist, which is fine with James. But he knows about all the stuff that happened when the Black’s lived in the village, he was there for it all; the broken bones, the bruises, the cuts, the scars, the rapid weight loss, he saw it happen, held Sirius through it, took the pieces of his own armour and filled in the gaps on Sirius’ because whilst Sirius is chaos, James is calm and he’s loyal, and he’s strong. And then Sirius left. And then Sirius came back to him. Then. Then, Sirius came home. So, James can wait. He can do it. Because James and Sirius tell each other everything, do everything together, but this is something that Sirius might just have to figure out on his own.

The house feels too quiet, the air around him too heavy, as James lies in bed. He tries to read, he fails, he polishes his rugby boots for training in the morning, and he fails. He can’t stop thinking about Sirius’ face; the frazzled, lost sort of look that plagued him when James had asked if he was okay, if he needed to talk about anything. James watched as Sirius fought and lost the battle of following Remus out of the Three Broomsticks and felt the pain heavy in his chest when he had to stop Sirius, himself.

“Not tonight. Let him cool off.” James had whispered, and Sirius didn’t have it in him to argue.

He tries to read, again, and he fails, again. He loves Sirius so much. He worries. He always worries. Because, sure, Sirius is a lot better, now, but he’s complex, he has trauma, and he’s visibly struggling. But James can’t help. Usually, he can always help Sirius. Sirius never shies away from asking for help. He’s on his own this time, scared and struggling and James can’t help him because he hasn’t asked and James refuses to push.

He tosses and he turns, and he sits up, he lies back down, he paces, he sits down, and eventually, he falls asleep, only to wake up when the bed dips beside him.

When his eyes open, he realises he’s fallen asleep with his glasses on because he can see the way the dawn breaks over the orchard outside his bedroom window. There’s frost on the grass and the sky is still a deep blue, getting lighter the further down he looks. Sirius is next to him. He doesn’t have to look over to know. James can tell by the pattern of his breaths, the smell of his shampoo, how far the bed dips. James Potter would know Sirius Black’s presence were he deaf and blind. He always will. He has a feeling Sirius, much like him, feels the weight that’s suffocating them.

He doesn’t look over, just waits for his best friend to say something. He can hear the cogs whirring behind Sirius’ pale blue eyes, the thumping of his heart against his ribcage. Sirius doesn’t speak for a long time.

“Do you –“ Sirius starts, but he falls short. He’s unsure, voice wavering, thick with anxiety. He swallows, coughs, tries again; “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”

It’s not what James is expecting Sirius to ask. As his best friend, his first instinct is to say, ‘Of course I don’t’, but James knows Sirius Black like the back of his hand, the insides of his eyelids, the warm glow that burns in his chest. He knows how Sirius can be. He knows how cruel his tongue is, how his first instinct when he’s threatened is to go for the throat. So, James deliberates.

“I think you’re a good person who horrible things have happened to. Sometimes, you allow those things to control the way you act. But no. I don’t think you’re a horrible person, Padfoot.” James answers honestly.

He watches the breeze blow through the orchard trees as the sun continues to creep up between the branches. Sirius breathes a sigh of relief, shuffles closer to James so he can feel the warmth of him. He finally looks down at Sirius, head rested on the same pillow as James, and he smiles softly. Sirius smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks tired, lost, scared. James wants to fix it all so bad. But he can’t. He has to let Sirius do it, himself.

When Sirius ran to him seven years ago, James made himself a promise. Nothing, and no one, would ever harm his best friend again. Not over James Potter’s cold, dead, body. But he can’t stop this, can he? He can’t wrap Sirius up and protect him from his own heart, his own mind. He doesn’t have that much power and it’s killing him.

“Remus thinks I’m a horrible person.” Sirius says, voice so quiet James thinks he believes it. Like Remus’ word is final.

He sighs, rubs the tiredness from his eyes, “Did he tell you this?”

“No,” Sirius answers, voice a moment from sleep, his eyes closed, and his face so sad and soft James feels his heart splinter, “I see it in the way he looks at me.”

“You could prove to him that you’re not.” James advises, voice soft.

Sirius makes a humming noise of acknowledgement, but ultimately, James knows the conversation is over. He’s dead to the world ten minutes later, and James follows suit not long after.

-----

SIRIUS

When Sirius was ten, he realised what it truly meant to be a member of the Black family.

It was more than fame, or politics, or even money. It was more than presenting themselves as a prestigious, well-educated family. For the Blacks it was about one thing: Power. They have an ability to play games with people that don’t even know they’re a part of them, closing in, moving pieces, counting cards until finally, they win. The Blacks always win. For as long as he can remember, every conversation Sirius Black has ever had with another member of his family has held some sort of purpose. Manipulation, information gathering, seed planting. The list goes on.

When you grow up in that environment, carefully wrapping your lips around poisoned words, watching your back with every move, the thing is – it becomes hard to trust. It gets hard to distinguish the difference between someone trying to get to know you, and someone trying to learn every dirty little secret you have so they can use it against you.

So, Sirius was ten when he learned the hard lesson of keeping his mouth shut, keeping his secrets close to his chest. Because the beating he took for telling Mary Riddle that his mother nicknamed her husband, Tom Riddle Sr., ‘The Snake’, was unpleasant at best. Secrets, or spilled secrets, never end well. He likes to keep his secrets close to his chest. Perhaps that has more to do with Walburga than he’d ever be willing to admit – because while the Black’s liked to know everyone else’s secrets, not a soul alive could tell you any of theirs.

It took Sirius one year to tell James how bad things really were. Even then, it’s not like he had an option. Too many black eyes, too many sprained wrists and unhealed cuts. James Potter is one of the smartest people Sirius knows. It was only a matter of time before he figured it out. By then, Sirius knew he could trust James, could feel it in his chest. What they have is special, unheard of. Their souls are made of the same things. Sirius knew that just as sure at age eleven as he does, now, age twenty-three.

Sirius doesn’t know why he hasn’t told James, yet.

Honestly, he doesn’t.

He’s tried. Gods, has Sirius tried. But the thing about James is – is that he’s so observant when it’s the big things, the big moments, the bad days, but the smaller, more minute things? Things like Sirius asking him to go for coffee, have a chat – it goes over his head completely. Every time Sirius builds himself up, James bulldozes over his confidence with an enthusiastic rant about rugby, the weather, the shop, and Sirius deflates like a burst balloon. He can’t get angry with James. Not really. Because Sirius has a sneaking suspicion that he’s subconsciously grateful for James ruining the moment over, and over. If he was truly confident in letting his secret spill, he’d just bulldoze James right back. That’s how they work.

But, instead, Sirius says nothing.

Always nothing.

It’s becoming a problem, he’s aware. Especially with the way Remus is staring at him, now, expectant, and impatient. He’s just – he’s not good at opening up to people, at letting them in. There’s something there, though, with Remus. He feels it in the static buzzing between his ribs, the sparks buzzing at his fingertips. He doesn’t know what to do with the energy, doesn’t like the way it makes him feel. A loss of control.

It’s been less than twenty four hours since their… fight. In the Three Broomsticks’ beer garden. Remus called Sirius a pretentious prick, Sirius called Christopher a wet wipe. Remus’ lips felt so angry against his, so frustrated and raw, so. Nice. They haven’t spoken since. Not really. Not in any way that matters. Nothing other than the short, jabbing quips that once, were fun, but now are exhausting. Sirius doesn’t hate Remus. Not really. But he’s not sure he likes him either.

He’s scared and he’s confused, and Remus is looking at him like he should have all the answers and he doesn’t know what to do.

So, he shrugs, “I told you. I don’t know.”

Remus nods, he looks like he’d been expecting that answer. “I’m not just someone you can fuck around with until you figure out whatever posh boy gay crisis it is you’re having.”

Sirius has the nerve to scoff. The thing about Remus is. He’s incredibly good at giving what he gets. Sirius knows he’s cutthroat when he’s been backed into a corner. He has this evil monster in his head, in his chest, in the blood that thrums through his veins – it’s a by-product of being born a Black. Or maybe it’s just him. Maybe he grew up in a house so rotted, with a family so monstrous, that he never had any hope of being more than. But Remus is just as short, just as rude. It’s maddening. It inspires Sirius to challenge him, if only to feel the scorch of his lips, the electricity of his touch.

“I can’t do this right now.”

Remus flicks his fag across the road, pushes himself off the wall, “You’ve been saying that for as long as I’ve known you.”

“You don’t know me.” Sirius feels the need to remind Remus.

Because really, he doesn’t.

Remus Lupin knows jack shit about Sirius Black. Other than what he tastes like. What he sounds like. That he’s rotted and spoiled and probably a horrible person.

So, he knows a little.

But he’s never shown any interest in getting to know the good parts of Sirius. The loyalty. The unwavering fucking loyalty that Sirius gives out like rare change, but when you have it, you have it, and it never falters. The laughter, the jokes, the careful way he cares for each and every person he loves. He’s loud and abrasive, but Remus will never know he can be that way and not be an arsehole about it.

 Sirius won’t force him to see past what he wants to see. He’s accepted that maybe the reason Remus thinks he’s a terrible person is simple. Because he is.

“You’re right. I don’t.”

Remus doesn’t say good-bye when he turns, yanks open the door to the shop and steps inside. Sirius hears the faint ringing of the bell, your voice calling out Remus’ name. He gives himself a moment. A moment to look at the door and hope that Remus will come back out and explain very plainly what it is he wants from Sirius. Because Sirius is at a loss. He doesn’t remember much about the night that he met Remus. Just the feeling of pure adrenaline he got from whatever haughty words they exchanged in the smoking area, the half-hearted scoffs and awkward chit chat of getting to know someone you really shouldn’t have any interest in getting to know. Remus was charming. He was quiet and mysterious, and he was rather blunt. Sirius didn’t mind. He likes to talk, likes to push, likes to know everyone’s secrets.

Power. Games. He never really got away from that. Just them.

He doesn’t remember how it got so heated, how they ended up millimetres away from each other’s faces, their breaths mingling and the static electricity winding its way around Sirius’ ribcage. But they did. And Remus’ lips. They were so rough, so demanding. So lovely. He remembers the way it overpowered him, the kiss, shook him to his core and turned his entire fucking life upside down. The thing Sirius can’t shake, though. The thing that tears him up inside – which he refuses to look at too deeply – is the look on Remus’ face when Sirius broke the kiss, took two steps back, announced that he wasn’t gay, and essentially took off running.

The thing is, Sirius isn’t gay.

At least, he’s ninety-nine percent sure he’s not.

He can’t be. He won’t be.

When Sirius is positive Remus isn’t coming back out, he leaves.

----

The bell dings above the shop door and Remus returns in a flash of fury. His jaw is set, eyes narrowed, and his lips twisted. It pulls at the scar on his cupids bow, makes it an angrier shade of red than it normally is. Usually, after a smoke break, Remus returns more relaxed, calm, a more pleasant version of the boy you’d originally sent outside to cool off after he kicked a box of freddos across the storeroom twenty minutes ago.

He stalks up to the till, doesn’t even check if there’s any customers present before he announces that, “Sirius Black is a fucking prick.”

You’re perched on the edge of the counter, flipping through a magazine. Sundays are generally slow days. All the week’s deliveries have arrived, the pull forwards have been done, the cleaning is done. All that’s really left to do is sit around and wait for customers to show up. Remus must not be expecting you to reply – probably because you never do when it comes to Sirius – because he huffs a breath before continuing through to the storeroom, likely to take his anger out on another unsuspecting box of chocolate. The door squeaks awfully behind him.

A head of Black hair flashes past the window, barely visibly above the promotion signs James is always tacking up. But it’s there. You see it. Sirius is stalking off in the direction of the Leaky. Remus’ frustration suddenly makes sense. Not saying anything to Remus about what you and James witnessed last night has been torture, especially when he’s been a moody sod all day. Sirius and Remus don’t make any logical sense. But then, you’ve never really given it much thought. Until last night, you were under the impression they’d sooner knock each other out before going at it like horny teenagers in the beer garden.

But you promised James you wouldn’t say anything. So, you don’t. You allow Remus to sulk and fume and take his frustration out on a box of freddos. Because that’s what friends do, you suppose.

Remus returns five minutes later looking cool, calm, and collected. He doesn’t offer an explanation nor an apology for his outburst. Instead, he travels around the counter to stand behind you and be ready to serve, should anyone come inside. You doubt they will, most of the village residents barely leave their homes on a Sunday, let alone past five in the afternoon. The silence is weighted. But then, you think, that’s probably because you know more than you should. Silence with Remus is usually comfortable. It sticks to your skin like humid air and makes you restless, unable to enjoy flicking through your magazine.

“What did he want?” You ask, eyes pointedly focussed on the article about this week’s fashion trends.

You’ve got one leg kicked up on the counter, balancing your magazine, and one dangling off the side, facing Remus, but you refuse to look up; terrified he’ll be able to see right through you.

He hums, “Who?”

“Sirius.”

Remus doesn’t respond for a minute. You imagine he’s trying to piece together how you know he was outside.

“Saw him stalking off towards the Leaky after you came in.” You offer.

“Right.”

“So?”

“So, what?” He asks.

You finally look up; Remus is already staring at you with nothing short of frustration written across his face. He purses his lips, shrugs a non-committal shrug, “The usual. To be a prick.”

“Right.”

“Why does it sound like you don’t believe that?” Remus asks, crossing his arms across his chest.

It’s your turn to shrug. You flip the page of your magazine, eyes downcast. “Just doesn’t seem like Sirius to go out of his way to be a prick.”

Remus scoffs but doesn’t say anything else.

The rest of the shift passes in silence.

James comes to lock up because you forgot your keys at home, this morning, and Monty offered to send James before he left earlier on. It feels like walking on eggshells when he shows up, asks how the day went, and Remus is still in his horrible, sulky mood. You avoid eye contact as you clear lottery tickets and scratch cards from behind the till, making polite conversation as James counts the money inside the tills. He knows you hate numbers – he does it without asking.

Remus doesn’t offer much of a goodbye when he leaves, just tells James he’ll see him on Wednesday and goes. You deflate when the door closes behind him, tension seeping out of your shoulders. James frowns after him, “What’s up with him?”

“Sirius stopped by, earlier.” You fiddle with the clipper display, moving the lighters around as though you have a particular order that you’d like them to be in.

“What did he want?” James asks, locking the till.

You shrug, “They were outside. Couldn’t hear. But Remus has been in a right mood since he left.”

James doesn’t say anything, just sighs and rubs his hands across his face.

Then, “I owe you an apology. For last night. I shouldn’t have been so forceful with you not telling them you know. Sometimes I forget Sirius is an adult who doesn’t need to have his feelings protected.”

He looks earnest, sincere. You hadn’t really thought any bad of James for cornering you the way he did. Honestly, you’d admired how much he cared about Sirius in that moment, how he didn’t think, just reacted in the best possible interest of his best friend.

“S’okay.” You nod, offering James a kind smile.

It’s weird, to have a normal conversation with no one watching, no flirting, no innuendos. It’s nice.

James shakes his head, his half-damp hair moving with him. He looks freshly showered, probably is, you know he had rugby practice today. He’s wearing his rugby hoodie and his gym shorts. He looks boyish and cute, and when he offers you a lopsided smile your heart stutters.

“It’s not. I felt the way you tensed when I grabbed your wrist, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You laugh a little breathily, “That-“ You try, stop, try again, “That wasn’t because I was scared or, or anything. It was just,” You trail off, hoping James accepts that as answer.

How incredibly embarrassing would it be to tell James that you’d been so tense because his touch felt like blazing fire against your skin, made your heart stop, your head spin, your stomach grow butterflies. Pathetic, really.

James looks lost but nods slowly anyway.

“Right, well. That’s us done, so you’re free to go. I’ve a few things to grab from the office and I’ll lock up on my way out.”

“Right, cheers. See you tomorrow, Jamie.”

James’ face brightens at the nickname, his smile wide and teasing, “Tomorrow.”