#bc i KNOW he’d do that. he’s done it before except i was The Person he was snitching to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 8 months ago

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okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.

ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.

reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.

a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.

so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍

HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕

Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.

Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)

A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.

You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.

They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.

You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.

When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.

“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.

“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”

“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”

She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”

“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”

Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.

“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”

“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.

Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.

Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.

After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.

“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”

“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”

You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.

“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”

He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.

“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”

“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”

“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”

“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”

“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”

“I’d like that.”

Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.

Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.

“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”

“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.

“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.

“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.

“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”

“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.

“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.

Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.

“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.

“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”

“Sure!”

Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.

“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.

“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.

“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”

He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.

He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.

“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.

“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”

He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”

“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.

He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.

He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.

“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.

That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”

“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.

“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.

“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”

“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.

Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.

“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”

You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”

“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.

It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.

“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.

Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.

He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.

“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.

You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.

He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.

He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.

You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”

He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”

“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.

“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.

“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”

Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.

“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.

When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.

‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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artificialbreezy · 6 months ago

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lowkey, i don’t think im done talking about this yet. bro i rambled so bad (ps we see some Matty here)

Noah’s been big on manners since before you even started seeing each other. when you first started hanging out, even with the whole gang and you needed anything he wouldn’t do it until you asked nicely. so when you get together it’s just second nature to have the best manners around. Manners are so important to him, he encourages his friends to come him if you’re NOT using them bc he just can’t have that. so maybe you’re working with Matty boy in the sound booth and you get snippy with Matt over something small and just say “can you just fuck off for a minute? i’m trying here!” and Matt and Davis just look at each other and Matt looks at you and goes “want me to get Noah? what’s with the attitude?” and you just sigh and next thing you know Noah’s walking to the booth and you just look at Matt and Davis and roll your eyes bc great now you really can’t perfect this sound before the show tomorrow. “sweetheart, come here.” he’d speak up and when you didn’t move fast enough he’d pop an eyebrow up and pull out THE voice, “Now.” and Matt chuckles a little bc he’s never seen this in person, he never ever excepted to see you move so fast. “I’m sorry for her behavior, she’ll be back in a little bit with a better fucking attitude.” and then he’d drag you away.

everyone saw his hand wrapped around your wrist and dragging you through the venue and knew to just fuck off and leave you two alone. so when he got you into the green room he’d plop directly onto the couch on the back wall and just watch you in the door way playing with your hands. “floor, in front of me. now.” and you’d scurry in front of him and fall right to your knees, leaning your head against his knee. his hand would come to rest on your cheek, rubbing his fingers against your flush skin. “now, i want you to tell me what happened? where’d my good girl go? why you being a brat to Matt?” and you’d shrug a little. “want me to get Matt in here and have him tell me? maybe let him decide how to handle your attitude.” you’d get so red and shy and try to hide your face in his leg. “oh, you want Matt to handle your attitude?” you’d get a little teary, “i just-” he’d look down at you, “baby it’s okay if you do. i’m going to make you apologize to him either way. can’t have my girl being rude for no reason. now if you have a reason, we can talk about it. so, why don’t you tell me what happened?”

when you still wouldn’t speak up, he’d grab his phone and quickly call Matt. once Matt walked into the room is when the water works came out. “oh, you feel bad now? just cause Matt’s here?” Matt’s just standing, cross armed in front of the closed door not wanting to overstep his welcome. Noah would tap your cheek a little harder, “go be my good girl and apologize to Matt. then i’ll handle your attitude with me when we get back.”

you were on your knees, looking up at Matt, tears falling down your cheeks. “i’m sorry, Matty. i didn’t mean to be snappy. i was mean and i shouldn’t have been. i’m sorry Matty.” Matt looked at you and back to Noah, Noah nodded. Matt bent down so he was eye level. “you’re okay, been a busy week. not mad lovie.” and he’d kiss your forehead and see Noah smile at the two of you. Matt excused himself and it left you and Noah.

“Matty huh? you really like Matty don’t ya?”

#noah sebastian headcanons #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian blurb #bad omens smut #bad omens blurb #bad omens fluff #matt dierkes headcannon #matt dierkes x reader #matt dierkes smut

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artstatues · 6 months ago

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Slow dancing in the dark. - l.k × g.h

wc : 553

pairings : lyra kane x grayson hawthorne, from the inheritance games.

synopsis : lyra kane stays up late in the library to solve some clues. thats until the game master walks in and asks for a dance.

warnings : nothing??

a/n : idk, i guess you can count this as a second part of this fic, but thats up to you. anyways, its not proofread bc i think this is a bit more of a drabble.

taglist : @never-enough-novels, @reminiscentreader, @lxvebelle, @kozumesphone, @sophiesonlinediary, @shuhuaspookie, @off-to-the-r4ces, @pockyyasii, @starrynightsxo, @urbanflorals.

Lyra hunched over to get a better view of the picture on her laptop. The picture contained a clue, an unsolved riddle she took a picture of. It was hidden somewhere in the island’s mansion, she was sure she was the first person to find the clue, but Rohan was also pretty clever– no, very clever. Knox Landry and Odette Morales were a close third. No one shared clues, not even Odette, who Lyra could call a friend in the game, supposedly. She had snuck into the Game Master’s office for this clue. Where he’d caught her, unfortunately.

The library was dimly lit, since it was late at night. Lyra’s sleeping schedule went downhill after joining the game, but the things she could get done and the riddles she could solve while others were sleeping were truly an advantage. The door to the library creaked open, it would always creak, the sort of creak that’d scratch your ears, which was quite odd for a new building. Lyra turned her head towards the person. The game master. He was in something else than a suit, which caused Lyra to tilt her head and raise an eyebrow. “Did you find anything amusing, Miss Kane?” Grayson strode closer towards her, pulling out the chair across her. “Your choice of fashion, Game Master.” She addressed his title mockingly. He was wearing a navy sweatshirt, large letters spelling “HARVARD” across the sweatshirt. He was also wearing a pair of joggers. If any other person caught a glimpse of his outfit, they’d label it as pajamas, but was Lyra wearing anything fancy? No. Lyra sat there with a band tee and shorts, her hair pulled into a somewhat of a bun.

Grayson placed his elbow on the table, where his chin rested on his palm, admiring Lyra. She hasn’t muttered a single word except a few curses here and there. Where Lyra found his ‘choice of fashion’ amusing, he found her brows furrowing, her little whispers of curses, and her groans amusing to watch. It was a lovely and utterly beautiful spectacle. He had a teasing smirk on his face. “Stop smirking at me Davenport. You already know the answers, it isn’t fair.” Lyra remarked. Grayson only raised an eyebrow in sarcasm, “I do, but I also do admit watching you is quite a spectacle.” He gave a soft, pleasing smile. Lyra glared, confusing Grayson. “What? Oh, in a good way– I mean.” Grayson assured.

“Would you like to dance–?” Grayson blurted out of the complete blue. “What?” Lyra furrowed her eyebrows in surprise. “I said–” Grayson tried to repeat himself before Lyra cut him off. “No, I heard what you said. Just– that was a bit random.” Lyra slowly closed her laptop and finally got up from the chair after hours. Lyra hesitatedly opened her phone and played a song. “I’m assuming you meant slow dance?” She smiled. “Yes.” Grayson stepped closer, and closer. His hands snaked around her waist while Lyra’s went to his shoulder. A soft smile was plastered on the pair’s faces.

Lyra never took Grayson Hawthorne to be a dancer, of all people. The couple slowly spun around the room, enjoying the company of the other person.

After all, they were only two people; The Game Master, and the player, somehow lucky enough to coexist.

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suneeater · 2 years ago

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bnha guys + jealousy

➳tamaki, bakugou, kirishima

✎a/n: uuuauahhhgh these r way shorter than usual bc im tired but i wanted to post smth! i rlly rlly wanted to include todoroki but i honestly dont see him getting super jealous. at least not enough to write hcs about. anywa,s,. enjoy

✰warnings: profanity

𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢.

He doesn’t get jealous really, he just gets scared. He trusts you but at the same time he’s constantly so worried that you’ll grow tired of him. He’s so convinced you’d be better off with someone else and kind of projects that insecurity

So when he gets ‘jealous’ he just gets kind of sad. He doesn’t wanna bring it up because he’s pretty sure it’s just his head messing with him and that saying anything will be unnecessary but oh my gosh he’s so down in the dumps thinking that he’s not good enough for you

You have to approach him about it and pry it out of him before he finally admits he’s feeling jealous and scared. Do you still love him?? Are you tired of him?? Is he too much to deal with; oh my god he shouldn’t have said anything, that probably why you’re annoyed by him–

He just needs some reassurance is all. He’s not the jealous type to remove you from a situation or start getting handsy to prove a point to someone; the last thing he wants to do is interfere with a situation in which you’re happy. It’s just, he’d rather be the reason you’re happy

Just bring him with you sometimes and problem solved, just like that. He’s really just a sad little puppy with abandonment issues

He’ll start feeling a little more confident eventually as long as you help him out dw he’s getting there :)

𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮.

He is the definition of insecure and he is going to make it everyone’s problem. Getting jealous is just a regular occurrence, except he doesn’t really learn how to tackle it.

When he gets jealous he is not subtle about it. If there wasn’t trouble before there is going to be now because he is inserting himself into the conversation, shooing the person off, or just removing you from the situation entirely after making a couple off colored remarks to the person stealing your attention away from him

He always gets a feel for what’s going on before he intervenes though. But if he detects a potential threat? Game over, you’re done, let’s go home, I don’t wanna be here anymore blah blah blah

He’s constantly got his arm wrapped tight around your waist, pulling you closer and closer until there’s hardly an inch between you. Even in the most innocent of conversations he’s shooting glares and trying to let everybody know who you belong to

He would never objectify you but honestly, he’s a little possessive. You’re his and he is not going to let a single person forget that, and god forbid they try and do anything about it because he is not afraid to start a scene. ESPECIALLY when you’re involved

𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚.

Kiri gets SO pouty when he’s jealous. He’s not insecure like the other two; he isn’t afraid of someone taking you away from him or anything, he’s just upset he’s not getting your attention instead

I mean, how dare this mystery person interfere with his romantic fantasies?! You should be smiling for him and laughing at his jokes instead :(

He’s not possessive like Bakugou either, he’s just absolutely infatuated with you. This man is your number one fan and your number one clown, he’ll do anything to make you smile. Plus, you smile the prettiest when it’s just for him

He gets so touchy when he’s jealous. He’s constantly slinking up behind you and snaking his muscular arms around you, nuzzling against you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His goal is to make it absolutely impossible to ignore him any longer

He is absolutely not afraid of PDA. In fact, he has zero regard for it. He’s got too much love to show you to contain it to four walls and a door, and who cares if everyone sees? They should all know how lucky he is anyways

Oh, and also that he’s yours to pay attention to :)

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha #my hero #jo

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sharpsuite · 5 months ago

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BONUS PROMPT FOR @cartelheir bc i love vivi and wish to spoil:

↳ NONVERBAL MEMES ↳ [ nap ] for your muse to fall asleep against mine

Chishiya stares with BARELY concealed surprise as he feels Pat slump against him, burying her head against his shoulder. This doesn’t happen to Chishiya. People don’t so much as reach out to touch his shoulder or arm to pass by, let alone fall asleep against him. It’s like they can all see the void that he is, that there’s something wrong. He swallows down the bitter sensation that threatens to crawl out of his chest like ROT easing through cracks in the wall and focuses on the warmth and weight at his side. Pat is here and she’s fast asleep against him.

He doesn’t know what to do about that really. Does he stay? Does he try to move her to a more comfortable position? Wake her? He tosses the lattermost option out before the thought is even done. She’d looked exhausted even before she fell asleep, like what rest she had been getting had been stressful. He cranes his head a little bit to study her face. She looks PEACEFUL like this. Probably one of if not the most peaceful he’s seen her since – ever really. Certainly since they'd returned from the borderlands and since her husband was dead and seeking refuge with him. It’s strange to come to terms with the thought someone can look at him and feel safe enough to sleep. It’s also strange to come to terms with the thought he’d once asked her to not leave him as he bled out. Strange, but not bad.

Uncertainty ensures that each movement he makes is slow so as not to disturb her. He doesn’t have any reference for this situation. He’s never cuddled with someone, never fell asleep against his mom or had any friends. But he doesn’t want her uncomfortable now or later. He takes a very GRADUAL approach to shifting her off the sharp edge of his shoulder and towards the edge of his chest in front of the scapula, brown eyes focused as he makes sure not to wake her. She doesn’t wake, and he hesitates with a now semi-free arm. What does he do now? It makes him feel stupid, because no normal person would struggle with this. But HE does. Is he doing this right? Wrong? There’s no guide to tell him, no mathematical equation that offers a simple solution in the form of quantitative data.

He reaches down and gently pulls the blanket up further to keep her warm, head tilted to the side to keep track of her breathing and making sure he hasn’t woken her. It’s a TEMPORARY relief from the dilemma of what to do. It’s over too fast and leaves Chishiya right back where he started. Ever so slowly he lowers his hand, as if he’s afraid to get BURNED, until he’s gently resting an arm around her. The burning isn't quite imaginary though. It takes him a moment to realize that it's his lungs burning ; he has been holding his breath the whole time since he lowered his hand. It’s RIDICULOUS and he can’t help rolling his eyes at himself over how absurd he’d behaving. ( Except it's not that absurd, because this isn’t natural for him and it takes time to learn. ) She seems more comfortable like this at least so he takes that as a sign he did something right.

His free hand reaches for the remote and he turns off the television, plunging the living room into a comfortable darkness. It feels a bit better, where his struggles aren’t as OBVIOUS. He’s always hated failing, not being good enough at something. It’s never been something like this though ; only a skill he hadn’t yet learned or a branch of knowledge he’d never pursued. Not basic interactive skills. His mouth twitches slightly at the thought and he focuses instead on the steady breathing and peaceful quiet.

Maybe he should sleep too, but sleep didn’t feel anywhere near close to happening. His free hand lingers by his side before Chishiya lifts it to gently comb through her hair, chin hesitantly resting against the crown of her head. It’s REPLICATION – remembering what she’d done and mimicking it to the best he can. Tentative touch turns a bit more confident with time, more stable than the flighty feather-light nature of it before. It’s nice. It’s terrifying. He's not sure what he's going to do when she wakes up.

He turns his head to the side so his cheek rests against her head and watches the gradual change of night to morning through the blinds.

#cartelheir #stares at you #i maybe wrote a bit more than i intended HGJDGF #listen he just !! had a lot of thoughts and reflection #HES TRYING HIS BEST HERE #its okay no one can see how awkward he is #who needs sleep? not him #01. IN CHARACTER — CHISHIYA #V1. DEFAULT VERSE — CHISHIYA

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gothsuguru · 6 months ago

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ok. genuine thoughts. i’m upset that this was the route taken… i just think that it would’ve been more impactful had it actually BEEN satoru/hell even if it was sukuna’s mind playing tricks on him… bc it would’ve been instilling fear/doubt in sukuna’s mind which has never been done by anyone else before! also… i just wish it was JUST satoru himself. like i love yuuta and if it HAD to be anyone overtaking satoru’s body, i mean i’m glad it was yuuta and not kenjaku bc at least you know there’s no maliciousness involved! but it’s like… it’s so burdensome. to yuuta to have to do this and live w this fact + satoru said he doesn’t care what happens to his dead body but idk i just would think that gege would leave gojo’s body ALONE. gojo’s body should’ve never been on the playing field of “being used” i think he should’ve been the exception… having someone else inside THE gojo satoru’s body is just idk i don’t like that writing choice…

also. wouldn’t it have been more impactful if either:

1) sukuna AND yuji saw gojo and didn’t know what the hell was going on? sukuna feeling doubt at what he’s seeing and yuji feeling doubt/relief? because that’s HIS sensei. even if it was a mirage i think it would’ve been better than what we got if i’m being honest

2) and this is my own PERSONAL wish. i just wish that satoru would have chosen north and reached enlightenment/chose his students and pushed forward. bc that’s what makes satoru, SATORU. the youth. the future. his students. him losing the six eyes and not being “the strongest” anymore but it doesn’t matter bc his students got HIS back and he has THEIRS. hell even if he keeps his six eyes and just reaches enlightenment to GET stronger would be totally fine too! bc guess what… megumi is STILL inside sukuna. like i think gege fucking forgot about him -> in turn satoru doesn’t mention megumi… which is INSANITY bc he RAISED that boy. satoru raised megumi longer than toji did. like… idk.

there’s just personally so many things i’d do differently and it’s not even about “subverting expectations” i think gege should still service the story/characters without always caring about what Crazy Subversion he can do… bc then you end up LOSING the ideals/personality of the characters themselves!

idk man… i’m beyond glad we got gojo panels and i’m glad yuuta is back but also… it isn’t yuuta in his own body 😭 and also i feel like we should’ve gotten more yuji/yuuta team up… and ANOTHER also. i didn’t feel anything when choso died like………. gege is so casually killing characters off and it doesn’t even service the plot it’s just useless… so there’s no EMOTION behind it. which is crazy bc i love choso and i should’ve been wailing when he died but there just wasn’t any build up… :/ also. i’m still mad about the twin theory not being real. uncle/nephew is one thing but twin theory would have been PERFECT. same with gojo losing six eyes/reaching white light enlightenment idc either one. also suguru would absolutely be the type of man who would tell satoru to go forward and go north… same w nanami. nanami would want yuji protected at all costs… AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON GOJO BARELY EMOTING WHEN NANAMI DIED!!!!!! ok now i’m just ranting abt my qualms w the manga. anyways. i’m curious what happens but like… these chapters don’t HIT like how hidden inventory/yuji higu fight hit… like atp bring back toji again i think he’d team up w yuji to bring his son back like we lost the plot…

but also. anyone being mad at yuuta you have critical thinking/reading issues… like yuuta is doing all of this out of desperation he has no other choice 😭 you can’t fight sukuna by being all sweet and humane like… i fear you gotta get monstrous to deal w a demon like him. yuji ate his siblings. there’s just heinous shit you gotta do to deal with this type of man and that’s what you have to do… again it’s the tie in of being a ��monster” and feeling like you have no other options: aka something that ALL jjk characters (gojo, geto, toji, yuji, megumi, nanami) had to DO. you’ll have to do things you don’t want to in order to secure a safer future for your loved ones. like damn i hate that gege wrote it like this but alas… what can we do! 😭 just don’t be mean to yuuta or else i’ll fight you idgaf 🤨 but tbh w the way shit is going… if gege kills off yuuta… i’m killing myself. i’m gonna acc drop the manga………….

#jjk spoilers #anyways!#there’s a lot of stuff i’d do differently in terms of story #it just feels like sometimes that not even gege knows what he’s doing 😭#personal

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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years ago

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fic rec friday 15

welcome the the fifteenth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. there, nestled against his pulse by @hiuythn

stop why are you doing this to me stop it stop it stop--

klance soulmate au where your right wrist has the first words your soulmate says to you, and the left holds the last words they'll say to you. super sad, so much angst, and i've been informed it'll make you sob until you choke.

1. there, nestled against his pulse (the main story, from Keith's POV) 2. this is what love looks like: (tnahp from Lance's POV + 38k of sequel content) 3. roll credits (deleted/extra scenes and additional headcanons)

okay. i am so desperately obsessed with this fic, i was obsessed with it the first time i read it and im obsessed with it now. and yes i know i did all hiuythn fics last week and i promise i wont this week. BUT i have a set of comments associated with this fic bc it is Just That Good and so i shall present them to u now:

- literally the funniest characterization of shiro i’ve ever read. this shiro is gay and tired. this shiro unironically and frequently says “move. i’m gay” and gets away with it at the garrison. this shiro has been through A Lot and just wants to fucking retire - allura here is so so funny she’s such a badass. she’s giving “i love shiny things! like the shine of your spilled blood on the floor if you say that dumb shit one more fucking time!!” we stan a queen. - coran is a Mood. this man is desperately trying to reign in four teenagers and two young adults and just wants to go to bed and also he cares for them all so so much. ultimate dad - pidge is Mischief Personified. she is a brat and i adore her. she’s here to cause problems and by god she will succeed - hunk is so done it’s so fucking funny. “that’s literally impossible.” he’s a genius and he knows it, he’s glad to call you out on your bullshit. he doesn’t even TRY to pretend he can keep a secret and/or handle drama god what a mood - don’t even get me started on klance!! they’re so funny omg. the banter is EXQUISITE. lance and keith adore each other so much and they’re so badass. literally the coolest power couple fight scenes ever to be made, i do adore. gosh. and the ROMANCE they are so devoted to each other i’m emotional - honourable mention of lance’s legs and keith’a Soft Squishy Feelings that are mentioned so often that they’re characters. iconic. all in all, the best way to describe this series is Gay and Tired. i love it and i’m sad to see it end. i will be rereading it an embarrassing number of times. infinity/10

2. all the little things by @jilliancares

Or: 5 times Keith let Lance get away with things that he'd never let anyone else do, and 1 time Lance realized that he was, apparently, special

oblivious lance will always be funny to me. and the idea of keith just letting lance get away with Everything and Everyone knowing how whipped he is except for lance himself?? peak humour. never not funny

3. Full Disclosure by @dragonomatopoeia

Keith is impulsive and straightforward when it comes to most things, and emotions are no exception. It's no surprise, then, that when he realises that he might have developed a crush on Lance, he tries to tell him immediately. Unfortunately, it's very hard to account for both circumstance and who Lance is as a person.

Alternatively: Four Times Keith Tried to Confess and One Time Lance Actually Understood

more 2016 eliteness!! this fic is hilarious. and also its number one selling quality is that all of the characters are trans and nd i literally love that for them. nonbinary hunk loml

4. catch me, before i fall by @pastelrainbow

‘We are a good team.’

Even now, just recalling the way Lance had smiled as the words left his lips, made Keith’s heart race and his cheeks redden. Lance had never looked at him so fondly before. No boy ever had. The thought of it made a sigh escape his lips and Keith hunched his shoulders, a pout tugging his lips downwards.

Curse my weak gay heart.

a what if keith caught lance outside his cryo-pod.

the idea of keith being a suave casanova with more game than aphrodite herself but immediately going bright red and hissing when shiro teases him. peak dynamic. absolutely nailed siblings

5. of demons and dates by spartona (faveour)

Three times Keith scares Lance shitless with his ghost shenanigans, and one time Lance tries to retaliate.

first of all. BFU KLANCE BFU KLANCE BFU KLANCE. second of all. the “we’ve BEEN dating u dumbass ily” trope is so funny to me. i will never get over it

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#actually lots of five plus one esque fics this week #bc i love them #ahem anyways #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #team as family #fluff and humour #broganes #fic rec #fic rec friday #longpost

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sitp-recs · 1 year ago

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hi liv hope you’re well!!! i was wondering if you had a reclist for like wound healing / physical h/c ?? i looked through your masterlists and maybe i just couldn’t see it but ohhh i would love it if you have any recs for me :))) thank you so much have a lovely day xx

Hi anon! Ahh yes some good old whump 👨‍🍳 💋 it’s crazy to think I haven’t done a list for it yet bc this used to be my favourite Starker trope! My memory is not great (especially with long fics) but I think these might work. Oh and if you enjoy Dronarry I highly recommend Let Be, Let Be by @tackytigerfic :)

Operative by @shealwaysreads (M, 3.4k)

After the war, Draco finds himself in the familiar position of not getting what he wanted. But sometimes, what you need finds its own way to you.

A Noir Cliche by @shiftylinguini (T, 4k)

Draco is not a Healer. Harry doesn’t get hurt on purpose. They really have to stop meeting like this.

Case File #742 by @nametheshadows (M, 6k)

When Draco is thrown into the cell, he’s furious. When Potter gets thrown in behind him, he’s pissed.

Vale Sanare by RurouniHime (M, 23k)

Draco’s world gains a new component just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

On One's Knees by pir8fancier (E, 34k)

The war is over and to the victors go the spoils. If you are triggered by infidelity, this is not the fic for you.

If an Injury Is to Be Inflicted by @shealwaysreads (E, 45k)

Harry Potter disappeared a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and with him went all hope for true change in magical Britain. Three years later, Draco indulges himself and attends his first Dog Fight—the infamous underground fights with no rules, no referee, and no points system bar blood on the floor. The game was simple: you win, or you die.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by lettered (E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 (E, 91k)

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

From Ashes by Caedes12 (E, 150k)

When Draco comes back for eighth year, he starts an unexpected friendship with Hermione Granger. Between his new friendship and his parents kicking him out of the house, Draco's life starts down a new path.

There Is Always the Moon by @firethesound (T, 159k)

Draco's life after the war is everything he wanted it to be: it's simple, and quiet, and predictable, and safe. But when a mysterious curse shatters the peace he'd worked so hard to build, there's only one person he can trust to help him. After all, Harry Potter has saved his life before. Now Draco has to believe that Potter will be able to do it one more time.

Bonus: art!

Sometimes it’s Now or Never by @bluebutter-art (T)

The aftermath of a messy Auror raid finds one Harry Potter at the doorstep of Draco Malfoy’s home. Who knew that a brush with death is exactly the push he needs to finally tell Draco how he really feels?

#asks #anon #drarry whump #physical h/c

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i-am-church-the-cat · 1 year ago

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loscar with protective oscar? like something happens to logan and boom oscar is upset, shocking everyone on the grid bc he’s normally so chill?? maybe they even get scared of him lmao. and this is how they find out the two rookies have been together for years <3

Anon your mind>>>

I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you like it

Warning for mild violence and blood mention Set after the Brazilian GP

Alex has seen fights before. He grew up with four siblings and was teammates with Max post-Daniel and pre-WDC. Almost always he can see the buildup of hurt and anger that ends in an explosion. When you look at a bomb, you expect it to blow up.

Oscar Piastri doesn’t look like a bomb so, of course, Alex never expected him to blow up.

They’re a sorry sight, the four of them Alex and George are brooding together behind where Logan and Oscar are making their way out of the paddock. Logan’s cradling his left arm to his chest and Oscar keeps shooting looks at it like he’s personally offended that it couldn’t handle the set up of the car and was hurting Logan because of it. It was kind of funny, and he’d nudged George to tell him so when all hell breaks loose.

They’re right at the entrance when a man breaks away from a crowd of people yelling bloody murder. The group of drivers have little time to react before the man is tackling Logan to the ground. Logan, with only one functioning arm and more height to him than muscle.

The two go down in a flail of arms and shouts. The attacker is yelling something in Portuguese that Alex can’t make out (except for the word “Drugovich” which immediately makes his blood boil) and Logan is somewhere between panicked, pained, and outraged. Alex, with all the reaction time of a professional F1 driver, is already running towards the scuffle when it happens.

Oscar, who had been right next to Logan and thus faster getting to him, hauls the attacker away from Logan before he can do any more damage. From what Alex can tell, it’s a fair amount, so he kneels down next to his teammate instead of looking to see what Oscar is doing.

That was his mistake.

Alex and George manage to get Logan sitting up and propped up between them, their worried ramblings crossing over and interchangeable with each other. Logan is barely paying attention to them, though. He’s looking over their shoulders for something. When he finds it, his eyes go wide and worried.

“Oscar, stop!”

Alex frowns and looks in the direction Logan is staring at with mounting horror. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to see but it isn’t Oscar ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth’ Piastri beating the shit out of a spectator.

Apparently, all Oscar had done after getting the guy off of Logan was pin him to the ground instead, because he’s hovering over him, one hand crushing his esophagus while the other does some free lance reconstructive surgery on his face. Alex’s jaw is hanging open as he watches flecks of blood stand out on Oscar’s papaya team shirt. It’s only after Logan’s second demand to get Oscar to stop that Alex registers the yelling.

“You want Drugovich to have a seat so bad, huh? He can take mine after I get fired for beating your face in for touching him, you selfish piece of shit,” Oscar is yelling over Logan’s attacker’s screams. At least, Alex thinks that’s what he said. Oscar’s accent is so thick he can only make out every other word.

Despite Logan’s attempts, Oscar only stops when two security guards grab him and pull him off the guy. A third officer grabs the attacker despite him doing nothing but laying on the ground and moaning. Alex expects Oscar to try and fight the guards off, too, but he just lets them drag him away, huffing like a bull.

“Oscar!” Alex is distracted from Oscar’s hauling off by Logan struggling to use his one half-functioning arm to stand. He and George help him up only for the kid to take off running after the Aussie. George and Alex exchange a look before following.

Alex and George catch up with the blond by the time they get to the medical tent. They bust in together, Alex more than slightly concerned for what they might see on the other side.

Oscar is sitting in a chair, the two security personnel hovering behind him. There’s a nurse tutting at him as she cleans Oscar’s flayed knuckles and an infuriated Zac Brown waving his arms in front of him. Neither Oscar nor Logan seem to care about any of that, though. Oscar’s head snaps up when they come in and the second the two lock eyes, Logan is pushing past all the very important people to land in Oscar’s lap.

“You’re such a fucking idiot, what the fuck, Osc,” Logan is saying into Oscar’s shoulder. It sounds like he’s crying and Alex suddenly feels like he’s intruding on a private moment. The feeling surmounts as Oscar wraps his arms around Logan’s back, pulling him higher up his lap with the sort of ease that comes from years of practice, and presses a kiss to the blond’s hair.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Oscar is soothing him, though he looks the furthest thing away from sorry. Well, sorry about upsetting Logan, maybe, but definitely not for anything else.

“What’s going on?” Alex spins around as a concerned and tired James Vowles comes into the tent, followed by Benny and- Mark Webber apparently. Alex opens his mouth to explain but Zac beats him to it.

“We need to do damage control,” he directs, pulling his phone out. “We don’t know how many people saw that or the conclusions they’ll jump to, and lord knows the FIA is going to be all over our asses, seriously, Oscar-”

“I’ll deal with the FIA,” Mark cuts in. He makes his way across the increasingly crowded room, giving the security guards a look, before settling next to Oscar’s chair. The two exchange an understanding glance. “You just make sure the press don’t get their hands on anything.”

“And what, exactly, would they get their hands on?” James asks again, mythical patience breaking slightly. Zac and Mark share a look but Alex finally manages to get a word in.

“A Drugovich fan broke into the paddock and attacked Logan,” he says, watching his boss’s expression darken. “Don’t know what he was saying but I bet it wasn’t good. Oscar got him off of him but-”

“But then he went bloody crazy,” George sumizes when Alex doesn’t know how to finish. The Mercedes driver also has his phone out, though Alex has no clue who he’s contacting. “Understandable, of course, and I will definitely be bringing this up with the FIA on the topic of driver safety. I don’t think Oscar is getting out of this unscathed, but we’ll have his back.”

George looks up from his phone and that’s when Alex can finally see the fury building in his eyes. He forgets sometimes that George and Logan have been friends for years, before Alex even met the American. They might be teammates but Alex doubts he’s in the top five people in the paddock who care abot Logan Sargeant.

“I don’t care what happens to me,” Oscar says, which is met with matching glares from Zac and Mark and a knee to the side from Logan.

“Logan, have you gotten checked out, yet?” James asks, which is a great question and one Alex probably should’ve been asking. He’s so glad to have a TP like him.

The silence from the man is as clear an answer as any. Benny sighs and comes to crouch in front of Oscar’s chair, laying a hand on Logan’s back.

“Come on, kid, we need to make sure you’re okay.”

Logan’s head shakes and he tries to press himself even closer to Oscar. A surely impossible feat but one they both seem to be accomplishing fine. In the end, it takes coaxing from Oscar, Benny, and Mark to get Logan to turn around on Oscar’s lap and let the nurse check him out.

“So, was I the only one who didn’t know you two were dating?” Alex asks when things have settled down, the guards being called out and the older men (plus George) working on damage control. Logan blushes and it’s Oscar who ends up answering him.

“We don’t tell a lot of people. We told James and Zac for contract reasons, and obviously Mark and Ben knew before us even-”

“George was there when it happened, actually,” Logan adds, Oscar deferring to him easily. “But besides them and our families, no one knows.”

“Huh.” Alex thinks back to the times he had seen them interact. “You are pretty good at hiding it.”

“We had practice when we were teammates at PREMA,” Logan explains.

“Except for practice controlling your tempers?”

Oscar has the dignity to at least pretend to look abashed. Logan shoots him a glare over his shoulder. It’s only his boyfriend’s arms settling over his chest that get Logan to relax again.

“I don’t get angry a lot,” Oscar says slowly. “Obviously. I didn’t even know I could get that angry until the first time someone hurt Logan.”

Logan snorts, “Yeah, my brother was really pleased to hear the kid who kicked him in the nuts at 14 was my boyfriend.”

Alex laughs at the mental image of a young Oscar, who had only ever had sisters, seeing the relationship between two brothers for the first time. Yeah, he could imagine it didn’t end well.

“The point is it’s not a normal thing,” Oscar continues. “I know how to deal with it most of the time. It’s just-”

“Special circumstance. Totally understandable, man.”

“Don’t encourage him.” Logan turns his pout-glare onto Alex. It reminds him of Ollie. Logan turns as best as he can to look at Oscar. “Don’t feel encouraged by this. I’m still upset with you.”

“Yes, sir,” Oscar says, pressing an appeasing kiss to Logan’s shoulder. Alex can tell from his expression, though, that Oscar would do it all over again if it meant protecting Logan.

FIA and potential outing be damned.

#logan sargeant #oscar piastri #formula 1 #f1 rpf #loscar #prompt fill #writing prompt #my writing

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apollos-boyfriend · 8 months ago

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Currently in cinema class but i also wanted to know more about clockwork, she seems very interesting in what you wrote her relations as! (And shes been a favorite of mine for a long time lol)

Also once tim convinces her to take the infection george clock out of her eye socket, what do you think she'd do with it?

i’ve made a FEW posts about my version of clockwork [1] [2] [3] but there is never enough to talk about with her. she’s become a very central character which i think is fun bc i was never Too too much into her back in the day! finally giving her the attention she deserves

i have her as being one of, if not the, last people to arrive at the mansion, so by the time she gets there, everyone’s had a while to calm down and get to know each other. and natalie doesn’t arrive in the best state, having only been about a week after the events of her origin. she’s just recently snapped and she’s scared and angry and hostile. and her arrival is a different vibe than most, because for a lot of them, their origins weren’t personal. not to her extent.

jeff killed his family, but he was so pumped with pain meds he can hardly remember it. their deaths weren’t personal, he would’ve killed anyone around him at the time. nina’s origin was similar, with the exception of her bullies, who she doesn’t even think about anymore. theirs were Necessities. jack has no memories of his life before the incident, and his initial struggles were more with what he’d become than what he’d done. ben’s arrival is the closest, as he was struggling heavily with having his own body and autonomy again, but he leaned more heavily on needing control than anything else.

but natalie’s still so hurt and still so angry. she felt better for a short while directly after her incident, but that rush had left her by the time slender took her in. she’d taken care of the people who’d hurt her. she couldn’t understand why she still felt so helpless, so hurt. she lashes out and projects her unresolved issues onto the other residents—her medical trauma onto jack, her brotherly trauma onto jeff/ben and sally/nina. she never got the proper conclusion/resolution she thought she would by killing her family, so she attempts to find that in the mansion, which manifests in her lashing out. i said it somewhere before but she’s more just a scared animal. she doesn’t know why she bites, necessarily, just that she’s always had to to survive. her backstory just works really well with the other members and out of anyone i think she’s the one that needs the most healing TBH

as for what happens to her watch, i haven’t actually thought about it! i think the most logical and narratively rewarding solution would be for her to throw it away. to fully leave behind that aspect of her life and start anew, no longer fueled by anger and the need for revenge. but i think she doesn’t get there instantly. the mansion’s full of fucked-up keepsakes (jeff has a knife collection from victim’s houses, jack has his handful of preserved organs, etc) so it isn’t seen as weird for her to keep it. it makes sense, it’s sentimental, after all. i think she gets nina’s help and makes a necklace out of it (after jack thoroughly disinfects the thing. like by god girl) until she heals enough to fully leave that time behind her

#muse talk #spitesprite #creepyposting #woah this got long 💀#she’s become. kind of a central point #her backstory aligns with a lot of the mansion super well to create tension #which is good! it’s needed!#considering i wrapped up most of it pretty quickly (like with jane and jeff)#she ends up becoming very close with nina and jack #it’s nice to have a normal surgery that doesn’t fuck you up for life

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gabessquishytum · 2 years ago

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just because i love a side of angst with my uh. everything. the thing that always gets me about sub!hob acting out is that i feel like whenever he's misbehaving or pushing boundaries there's always a part of him that's, on some level, back in that alley in 1889 watching dream walk away. whenever he starts feeling at all insecure there's always a part of him that thinks it's only a matter of time until he does something bad enough that dream will leave again, and he could wait around for it to happen or he could try to get it over with, and he usually opts for trying to get it over with. so he acts out, dream punishes him and then cares for him after, and hob's reassured that dream won't leave, at least until the cycle starts up all over again.

and maybe that continues until hob does something serious enough to cause an actual problem for dream or puts hob in serious danger or something. dream's angry enough that he can't punish hob right away, he knows he doesn't have the control he needs just now and he's bound to go too far, so he leaves hob safely tucked away in his flat with clear orders to stay there and wait until dream comes back to deal with him.

and hob is devastated. he's fully convinced that he's done it this time, he's fucked up badly enough that this is it, if dream comes back at all it'll only be to tell him that they're done, and if he's very, very lucky and he begs enough maybe dream will agree to see him in a hundred years. dream, of course, has no idea. until he feels himself pulled to hob's nightmares. because hob's dreaming of him, of the look on dream's face in 1889, except this time it's dream storming out of hob's flat and leaving hob naked on his bed.

and then of course because happy endings are critical. dream immediately wakes hob up and follows him into the waking so he can hold him and kiss him and promise that no matter how angry he is, he won't leave. he left hob once and he'll regret that for the rest of his existence and he will never, never do it again. (and hob still gets punished, of course, because they both need it. but after that hob sticks to being a brat in ways that are fun for both of them.)

-🐈‍⬛

I HAVE to talk about this real quick before I go to sleep bc omg. You punched me in the chest with this.

I feel like Hob oscillates wildly between thinking that he needs to be the best lover ever, the most pleasing, the most perfect, the one who never says or does anything to upset Dream, because if he tries really hard to be perfect then Dream won’t leave, right? But then there’s the other end of his psyche which is like, he’s got to push the boundaries, he’s got to get it over with before he gets even deeper into this relationship, he knows it’s inevitable because he’s far from perfect and Dream already left once, it’s only a matter of time before Hob fucks up again. Neither of these mindsets are ideal, of course. And Dream sort of gets it but not quite, not enough to be able to put Hob’s mind at ease, so the cycle perpetuates.

And Hob is really good at self destructing, ok. He’s had a lot of practice. He knows how to be irritating and awful and downright unbearable, he knows which behaviours are the most irksome to Dream. He knows, he keeps pushing, and Dream stays until. Hob finds a limit. Pushes too hard. It’s a cocaine binge, or an important occasion missed and ignored, or a door slammed in Dream’s face. Possibly all at once. And Dream is pissed, and he really does walk away.

Hob thought he’d be prepared, because it’s already happened once but god. His heart absolutely shatters. His brain is telling him that he’s the worst person in the world and he deserves Dream’s hatred, he deserves to suffer because he’s awful and he hurt the one person who loves him. A whole day passes and Dream doesn’t come back, doesn’t go through the usual evening routine with Hob, he isn’t there to take care of him or inspect his body as he usually does. There’s no spanking, no corner time, just the empty flat. And the nightmares.

And Dream is upset, of course, but mostly he’s worried about Hob. He’s always alarmed when his lover acts out in a non fun way, and this time he wants to resolve the problem for real. So he takes a little time, maybe visits the library for some insight, until he’s forcefully tugged across his realm by Hob’s agony. It’s the dream that hurts the most, the nightmare where Dream walks away and leaves Hob vulnerable and alone. All those terrible things which Hob thinks about himself reverberate around the dream and he’s so cold, and scared.

And then Hob is awake, and Dream holds him and for some reason Dream is apologising, but Hob won’t let him because this is all his fault. But Dream tells him that maybe… maybe they both need to stop ascribing blame? And Hob is wondering when Dream got so wise about this kind of thing, and Dream says that he’s just trying to be. For Hob. Because they’re both fucked up but that doesn’t have to rule their relationship.

Dream introduces Hob to maintenance discipline, and also puts more emphasis on rewarding good behaviour. And Hob works on his abandonment issues, and expressing himself in words. And Dream makes sure that that one nightmare stays away for a while. It’s all very far from ideal or perfect, but it’s peaceful and gentle and better every day <3

#🐈‍⬛ anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw drugs

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ddelline · 1 year ago

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f(ictitious work) i(n) p(rogress) friday

blurb | 9k into this impromptu, who knows what-post!canon!nobamaki (still don't know what the ship name is, no)... thing. who knows what it's gonna be? where it's gonna end? what the point is? certainly not me!

premise | what it says above, but also featuring: canonically dead!gojō, but somehow still featuring gojō!shenanigans, more spec parental!freshmen teacher!gojō!shenanigans (who's particular about clothes in the way insanely rich ppl are) bc what else

Gojō-sensei’s funeral is held on 2nd January at noon.

Tradition dictates that students and faculty alike dress in full uniform for funerals. In theory, it’s something Nobara considers to be acceptable. She never knows what to wear for life-and-death kind of occasions, with the exception of being out in the field, for which she wears her uniform. It’s decently tailored and in the right colours, and the A-line cut of her skirt, neither too short nor long, makes it pleasantly multi-purpose. It also makes her feel kind of powerful.

In other words: she’d happily consent to wearing an ensemble of: her school uniform, black tights, and any kind of dress loafers, to literally any funeral—school-affiliated or no; it’s sold, a done deal made easily.

Except in the case of Gojō-sensei’s.

Nobara thinks she knew him as most people had: as a man most people knew next to nothing about. It doesn’t make her feel sad or anything, that she never got to know him better. He’d been a loud constant, annoying to a fault and in your face about it. He’d also he’d been her teacher, and she supposes affectionate, per his own, offbeat brand. She’s sad, but not sad that they didn’t get more time, or that they were never closer.

She was very nearly royally pissed off. Pissed off at needing to intervene (on the behalf of a dead person) and dictate that the sartorial conditions of her dumbass teacher’s funeral not be beholden to stuffy, boring tradition. Her dumbass teacher, of whom she, plus every single person who’d ever met him, knew that there was nothing he despised more than keeping to convention and standard; that he likely never enjoyed anything as much as flipping a giant, fat fuck you to tradition—and jujutsu tradition in particular.

They’d had little in common (for which she’d always been relieved—the concept of being ‘friends’ with Gojō-sensei was an icky thought) but for one thing: they’d been (weirdly) kindred spirits in fashion. If she were to do anything to honour what he’d been, both to the world and to her, she supposes it’s right that it was this.

It’s a scant hour before she’s due to be in the principal temple for the ceremony, and she’s paging through hangers looking for the jacket she’ll be wearing. She flips hangers off-handedly: grey herringbone blazer; floral-embroidered boatneck sweater; strappy, iridescent dress; black fitted blazer—

She stays a hand on the following hanger. It’s a jacket, untouched and unthought of since months—since a lifetime, if she counts lives lived (and died); experiences garnered since. She tugs it out and drops it on her bed. Smooths a palm over the expanse of it; wide polo neck and boxy fit, glossy, purplish-black fabric.

Nobara doesn’t believe in higher powers, and she’s very sceptically inclined towards the existence of benevolent ghosts, spirits and/or divine intervention. Given her line of work she’s forced to concede to empirical evidence; people can live on after death—she’s got the scars to show for it, after all—but she’s also of the mind that curses are one thing—a guardian angel, holy spirit, or whatever else people believe is perched on their shoulder hindering them from walking into traffic—is something different.

But staring down at Gojō-sensei’s outrageously expensive, made-to-order uniform jacket—which can be found in her closet because she’d stolen it a few months ago in the name of fashion and redistribution of wealth—she can’t help but think that the motherfucker is lurking someplace closeby, a pale vestige caught between dimensions, watching and waiting for the moment in which he can pop into Nobara’s room and shatter a vase, or rearrange her closet, for shits and giggles.

Whatever it is—the ghost of Gojō Satoru or creepy coincidence—works to make her pause and reminisce, hands splayed over the jacket as she imagines Gojō-sensei taking her down Omotesandō prior to a mission, early fall last year.

Despite getting off at Omote-Sando, which is logically situated on the street of the same name, Nobara’d been surprised to emerge at the foot of Omotesandō Boulevard, long and wide and bustling, lanes serrated by zelkova trees and sidewalks lined left and right with the world’s most well-respected fashion houses. She put a hand on her hip and turned to Gojō-sensei and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

Gojō-sensei tipped his chin in vague indication down the road in lieu of replying. Nobara counted to ten before following.

They neither spoke nor interacted until a ways down the road when Nobara (not one for looking a gift horse in the mouth, anyway) fitted herself snug against the glass of the Marni window, gaze drawn by and caught by the ornamental, deconstructed display of Francesco Rissi’s print-laden pre-collection.

Gojō-sensei suddenly addressing her wasn’t enough to make her startle, but it was a near thing. “So you like this, huh?”

Nobara trained a suspicious glare at him over her shoulder. Gojō-sensei making any sort of conversation which didn’t a) require a Gojō Saturu-specific Rosetta stone to interpret, or b) made her want to light him on fire, ranked among the top tier of unusual occurrences. “Of course I do. I’m not some uninformed loser with no taste.”

Gojō-sensei smiled serenely. “Don’t talk ill of your classmates when they’re not here to defend themselves.”

Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t that. She barked with surprised laughter—shocked in equal measure at Gojō-sensei, whacky and over the top and ridiculous on any given day, but never funny, attempting to be clever… and kind of succeeding.

Gojō-sensei looked pleased with himself.

They made their way down the boulevard at a slow pace. Nobara stopped at a display once every couple of stores, peering at and sometimes through the elaborate display curations: noted new pre-collection additions in some, scoffed at unimaginative accessories’ displays in others. Gojō-sensei stayed mostly quiet and on his best behaviour, only chiming in occasionally with a tidbit commentary (shockingly on the money), or an anecdote (weirdly compelling) until Nobara felt her head hurting with with conflicting emotions (respectively: ‘agreeing with Gojō-sensei’ and ‘not hating spending time with Gojō-sensei’).

Outside the regal, five-storied flagship steps of Valentino they approached the facade in tandem. Nobara peered at Gojō-sensei curiously: the lazy concave of his spine and his squared shoulders; the spotlights in the display bouncing off the glossy fabric of his blindfold. “You shop here a lot?” she asked wryly, because she didn’t know what else to say.

“Not off the rack,” he audaciously replied. When she sputtered, at a loss for a proper comeback that wasn’t a litany of insults, he grinned widely around teeth. It made her want to slap the audacity out of him—a comfortable, familiar feeling at least—talking about shopping for Maison Valentino Couture like he was describing the weather, or in this context, like he was talking about shopping for discounted high-street.

It also made her want to steal his wallet and lift his no doubt very black, very metal, very invite only-credit card and go to town on every store this side of Shibuya.

“The menswear isn’t exactly revolutionary,” Gojō-sensei continued, unperturbed.

She agreed. It made her seethe.

Because Nobara couldn’t walk beside someone who claimed to be a haute couture client and not ask about it, she puffed a breath and changed topics, inquiring gruffly about the made-to-order process (“I can’t believe they cater to people like you.” An exaggerated pout: “That’s hurtful. Money is money, isn’t it?”).

Gojō-sensei indicated her skirt. “I have them make my uniforms,” he said. “Clothes I spend ninety percent of my waking time in can’t be uncomfortable, and school tailoring’s been lacking for the past few years.”

Nobara blinked. She didn’t know what to do with that information. Didn’t know what to do with that her unhinged, idiot teacher: looks like a textbook himbo, manner of speaking like he’d just disembarked a spaceship after eons and encountered human civilisation for the first time, powerful like seven biblically accurate calamities mashed together—apparently unblinkingly spent money, in the give-or-take ballpark of north of fifteen million yen, on non-distinct, entirely unremarkable-ass workwear.

For a lack of better things to say or do which didn’t involve a) verbalising a long, drawn out noise like a tea kettle whistling, or b) shameless propositioning (not really, but for Valentino couture it’d be a near thing), she stomped a foot in the ground, spat a scathing comment about wealth disparities, and stormed off down the road.

(A month and a half later, two days after she’d socked Gojō-sensei in the mouth with a heavy fist for stealing her skirt and wearing it just to goof off in front of the sophomores and Itadori and Fushiguro (it had connected; Nobara refused to inspect the connotations of that), she limped off track following a gruelling cardio session, and noted a discarded uniform jacket folded next to hers. It wasn’t dirty enough to be Itadori’s; not worn soft with age and patched enough to be Fushiguro’s.

She picked it up; felt its weight and heft and high end thread count, the fall and silhouette a starch contrast to her own uniform jacket. She unzipped the high neck and smoothed a thumb over the label to be sure. Valentino Couture stared back at her in signature, blocky serif lettering.

Nobara grinned viciously. She brought the jacket back to her room and stuffed it in her closet, feeling neither qualm nor regret.

Gojō-sensei never asked for it back.)

Thinking back on it, it’s likely one of few available anecdotes about Gojō-sensei which manages to accurately quantify and encapsulate so much of what her teacher had been: impulsive, entitled and flamboyant; difficult to understand by choice rather than design and way too keen on leaning into it; self-important and spoiled with privilege (and once again, way too keen on leaning into it).

Nobara pinches the delicate, insignia-branded zipper of the jacket he’d never asked back between her thumb and forefinger. She pulls it slowly down, folding the exterior to expose the lining. The innards are a study in luxe materials and subtle craftsmanship: large swathes of black silk lining stitched with invisible seams; tucked near the bottom seam are dual flap pockets with hidden zippers, the dimensions of which would enable her to carry at least twice her current max amount of nails in the field. Saving the best for the worst , she thinks meanly.

Satisfied with the extent of her hands on-analysis, she carefully zips it back up and shrugs it over the hanger. She tucks it back in her closet, opting to hang it at the very front, alongside a handful of precious fabric-items not to be chafed at by coarse denim or itchy wool.

#work: fic #current wip #wip #wip wednesday #(wrong day but w/e pt 2)#fic: hyperborea #nobamaki #jjk #fandom: jujutsu kaisen

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nehswritesstuffs · 2 years ago

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except I walked out on you when your hair was starlight

I’ve been thinking about this potential theory for a long while now (I mean, like, since last year) and I can’t help but think that it’s one of the wilder things that might come even slightly true because it just aligns perfectly with what we currently know about the Monkey Dads just being very distant fathers who end up pulling the same shit.

9122 words; pure crackfic unless proven otherwise; has anyone else thought of this bc pls where are you I want to talk to you if you have; this is very much not my usual fare when it comes to relationship and family dynamics so don’t expect, like, actual parenting; I very much expect this to be considered null and void within five chapters of canon (very specifically 1084 lol) so pls humor me okay; is it canon compliant? We’ll find out; general warning for timeskips and me just making shit up

except I walked out on you when your hair was starlight; All Dragon wants to do is bring about a more just world by exposing the World Government for what it really is. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to deal with a child’s bounty poster that looks disturbingly like his ex. [9122 words; alternate interpretation as to why the Buster Call at Ohara was the last straw]

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“You shouldn’t be here,” Clover said. Dragon shrugged casually at that.

“You’ve never been upset to see me before,” he reasoned. The young man casually leaned on the desk, giving the scholar a smirk. “I’m here to see Olvia. She around?”

“Even if she was, why would I let you see her?” Clover huffed. “Last time you were here you nearly got bodily fluid on priceless tomes of knowledge.”

“I am not the first person to have gotten lucky in this tree, and you’re just jealous it was never you,” the young man smirked. A certain platinum blonde then caught his eye and Dragon made his way around the desk and over to her side, done with pleasantries. “Old Man Clover’s bullying me.”

“Now why would he need to do that?” she wondered idly.

Oh, she knew.

“He’s jealous,” he offered.

“Professor Clover is one of the most renown archaeologists in the entire world; what would you have that he could be jealous of?”

A functioning libido, but they weren’t going to go there with other people nearby.

“Maybe,” she smirked, “I’ll have to study this condition of yours. Make sure it’s not… lethal.”

“Read my mind; pick you up at seven?”

“Seven-thirty—there’s a meeting I can’t skip again.”

“Fair.” He leaned down and pressed a light kiss against her cheek, a giggle getting out of her before walking away. “Seven-thirty!”

“Oh, and Dragon?”

He turned around, only to see the library in flames.

“Run.”

Gasping for air, Dragon sat upright in his bed, his body slick with sweat. He shakily looked around the room in the darkness—Baltigo, not Ohara.

Besides, Ohara burned ten years ago.

After turning off his alarm—it was fuck-all ‘o clock—Dragon decided it was good a time as any to get a head start on his work for the day. A full day of work would make him sleep solidly, and solid sleep meant no dreams, and no dreams meant no ghosts. He put his feet on the floor and shivered—there was nothing that could be done about the chill that seeped into the base, no matter what they did to prevent it.

The base was usually quiet around this time, thankfully, allowing Dragon to slip down the corridors relatively unnoticed. There was always the skeleton crew that kept an eye on things at night, but even they knew better than to bother their commander with anything more than a polite nod unless it was a real emergency. He was able to get to the showers and stood under the spray for a whole ten minutes before actually doing anything.

Did he feel guilty? Of course he did, but Ohara wasn’t coming back, even if its knowledge was all saved.

Then again, that’s why they were there, he reminded himself as he scrubbed his face. Ohara had been the last straw and now someone was fighting back. He’d told Vegapunk those years ago that it was because of Clover… because of the severe loss of knowledge and human life… but really… how many wars over the course of history had been waged for a woman?

Fuck.

In the end, an ex was just an ex, weren’t they? They both moved on. He had moved on.

So why was it getting to him?

Clothes, a shave, some coffee; before long, Dragon was sitting down at his desk, the dawn twilight not yet creeping across the sky. He looked at the pile of papers that had been placed in a very important pile since he’d last been in his office and grimaced—something told him he would have given the top spot to that organizational freak Bart had he known there was this much fucking paperwork involved with running a revolution. Taking the top one off the pile, he slowly started to clear out the backlog that admittedly had been growing for a few days at this point. Getting lost in work was usually fairly easy for him, and yet, he couldn’t help thinking about the real reason why he founded this seas-forsaken venture…

“They said you didn’t eat breakfast!”

Dragon snapped out of his daze as a tray was placed on his desk, culprit tilting his head in curiosity. Fuck the kid could move quieter than a cat.

“Oh, thank you, Sabo,” he said, blinking heavily. The kid’s bandages had recently been taken off and he could see the fresh burn scars, pink and shiny and raw; it pissed him off every time he saw it, and not because he hated the kid. It was almost impossible to hate someone who brought him coffee and a sandwich at… ah, shit, the sun was well past being up. “Iva hunting me yet?”

“Nah; they said they were gonna let you relax today,” the boy replied. He looked at the pile of papers that barely had a dent in it and frowned. “That’s a lot of bounty posters.”

“Yeah—I haven’t seen a lot of them either, which is really saying something,” Dragon frowned.

“Why’s that?”

“These are reissues; every so often, the World Government will reissue bounty posters of those whom they consider dangerous, even if they haven’t heard of them in a while.” He took the top one off the stack and handed it to the boy. “That one’s been circulating since I was younger than you.”

“Humming Brook… he’d be an old man by now, wouldn’t he?”

“He would.” He watched the kid’s expression—he was sharp for being only ten years old. “Does this… help at all…?”

“Not really,” Sabo admitted, handing back the poster. “I still can’t really remember that much from before.”

“It’ll come in time,” Dragon said, unsure if he was lying to the boy. The kid stood there awkwardly; neither of them knew what to do with him. If only dumping him with his dad wouldn’t mean putting him within arm’s reach of the Marines… “Say, go through these and rank them by potential for recruitment. Let me know what you think.” He took a chunk of the bounty posters and handed them to Sabo. “Just… rank them.”

“Yes, sir!” Sabo left the room and Dragon instantly felt exhausted. He hated to think what it would have been like had he been able to take his son along like planned… it was tiresome just thinking about it.

Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a little bit… yeah. That would be good.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was ironic how if someone would ask Dragon what his dreams were, he could easily say any number of things. Toppling the World Government? True peace? An unveiling of all the dirty laundry that was the Void Century’s secrets? A society designed to lift up and support everyone and not the select few? Having the ability to tell his father off to his face? He had a veritable list ready and waiting.

Except, sometimes, dreams weren’t goals and ambitions. They were places one’s brain went when they were at their most vulnerable, gripping them at their core and forcing someone to relive the impossible time and time again.

What truly were Dragon’s dreams?

He didn’t like to think about it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“What are you thinking about?”

Dragon looked over at Olvia and saw her face remained calm in thought as she stared up at the night sky. All he could think about was how gorgeous she looked in the starlight, the galaxies reflected in her eyes as they laid on the deck of his boat.

“There’s an expedition that Clover wants me to co-chair.” Ah. “It would be about a year.”

“Don’t say you’re breaking up with me, because you know I’ll just follow you.”

“Actually, I petitioned the professor to let you come along.”

“You did?! And…?!” He waited for a response. “Olvia…? What did Old Man Clover say…?”

She finally turned her head and looked at him, her expression sharp and steady as ever. “Wake up.”

“…that was rude of him.”

“No, sir, wake up.”

For the second time that day, Dragon shuddered awake, this time being jostled by Sabo. The boy jumped back as he flung himself forward towards his desk, the present world grabbing hold of him in a vice grip. Dragon quickly caught his breath and rubbed his face with both hands—fuck, this was getting bad. He looked at Sabo and saw that the kid’s eyes were wide and confused.

“I… uh… sorry…” he squeaked.

“No, no; it’s alright,” Dragon replied. He tried to shake the sleep from his body, only making it more of a shiver instead. “Does someone need me?”

“No, sir. I have what you asked of me.” The boy held aloft the stack of bounty posters and their prior conversation came flooding back to the man. That’s right—the bounty re-issues from around the time he was too busy founding an army to pay attention to who was up next for his father’s bosses’ chopping block. “I triple-checked; there’s only three good ones out of the entire lot.”

“Are there now?”

“Yeah—most of the people this stack are either really old or already spoken-for in a pirate organization.” Sabo put most of the stack on the desk face-down, holding back three papers.

“How do you know that?”

“I cross-referenced everything with our database; some of the duds are officers in the Big Mom Pirates, or with someone called Doflamingo in the North; I doubt they’d change alliances too swiftly based on their established levels of loyalty.”

“Keep this up kid and you might be gunning for Iva’s spot,” Dragon frowned. He took a sip of his coffee—ice cold—and watched the boy’s face brighten.

“Oh, I don’t want to be the G Army Commander,” Sabo beamed. “I want to be the Chief of Staff!”

Dragon was neither awake nor drunk enough for this. “…and what does that entail?”

“Doing important things for you!”

“Sabo… you won’t even officially be a member until you’re sixteen,” he chided. “Just… show me the candidates.”

“Okay!” The kid put the first page down. “This one is called Karasu. He’s from the North and got his bounty by beating up Marines that were bullying some civilians. I think he’d be a good match.” Dragon nodded with a grunt; okay. “This one is Waters Lila. She’s Southern and is known for breaking up slaver ships en route to Sabaody. If we get her, we’d likely get her whole crew as well—forty-strong at last estimate, many former slaves themselves.” He then hesitated, staring at the last poster.

“Yes…?” Yeah… definitely not drunk enough.

“I don’t know about her, but I think it’s a good chance if we can find her,” Sabo nodded.

Dragon raised an eyebrow. “If we can find her?”

“She was younger than me when she got her bounty, so I don’t know if she still looks the same.”

“Younger than you…? Those were the ten-year re-releases.”

“Well, she apparently wants to destroy the world according to the rumors, so there is that. I would too if I sank six ships to survive a Buster Call.”

“She what…?”

“Yeah,” Sabo exclaimed, placing the poster down. “Apparently she’s from the West Blue, from this island of people who were…” Dragon stared at the photo on the page in horror, Sabo’s voice fading into nothing.

WANTED – DEMON CHILD NICO ROBIN – DEAD OR ALIVE

80 MILLION BERRI

APPROACH WITH EXTREME CAUTION

Before him was the image of a small child, just a little older than his son was if he remembered correctly. His brow furrowed as he studied her face—there was no way she was anything other than Olvia’s blood. Her brother’s daughter, perhaps? It made him nauseous to think someone this small was listed for so much, so young.

“Sabo…?”

“Yes, sir?”

“How old would she be now? If she walked in through the door?”

“Eighteen!” the boy chirped. “I really think that she’s the best bet out of the lot—she has a pedigree.”

“I’m going to pretend you did not use that word,” he grimaced. Yeah, the kid was former nobility alright whether he hated it or not.

“Oh… well… her mom was pretty famous too! I found her bounty in the archives.” He took the top poster off the upside-down stack and held it out, making Dragon want to vomit.

Olvia.

It wasn’t her niece.

Oh, fuck, no…

Olvia’s daughter.

The only survivor of Ohara was Nico Olvia’s daughter.

A daughter who had her face, yet his coloring.

Seas almighty.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“What the hell is your problem?!” he hissed at her. She had been sitting at her desk in the ship, a lantern illuminating the papers that were scattered everywhere. The rest of the expedition party had either long-since retired for the evening, or were on the shore around the bonfire—it was just them.

“I’m only doing my job. You knew that’s what this entire trip was about.” She hadn’t even looked away from the book and that seemed to just depress him more.

“Those have been here for hundreds of years; they’ll still be there in the morning.”

“I need to get this done before we ship out—there’s only two more days.”

“Two more days here, a week there, some hours elsewhere; it doesn’t end! It’s been three years of this!”

She put down her pen at that, closing her eyes to steel herself. “You knew what this was before we left Ohara.”

“I didn’t leave Ohara thinking I’d be ignored… that I’d go to bed alone most nights… that on the rare nights we are together, you’re too distracted to even fake it.” She stood, furious. “Oh, hey, an emotion—nice to see them again.”

“How dare you…”

“I think it’s the other way around, Olvia—we should have called it off while you were out on this stupid thing…”

“I thought you were behind what we were doing!”

“…when it didn’t mean I was being ignored by the woman I love!” He hunched his shoulders as he held hers, looking into her eyes. They were so fierce… so determined then that he had nearly lost himself in them. “I’m here now, Olvia. I…” He swallowed. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, playing second-fiddle to whispers and rocks.”

“We’re almost done. Just a few months and…”

“No.” His voice was quiet then—defeated, even—as realization settled on him. “We’re done.”

Tears ran down both their faces as he kissed her one final time.

When she went to bed that night, she went alone.

He was gone.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

All Ivankov knew was that Dragon was having a crisis.

He’d have those every once in a while in private, threatening to crack under the pressure of leadership. It was generally nothing, where he’d just do frantic laps of his office while attempting to talk himself out of whatever corner his assorted demons had shoved him into. If they were being particularly honest with themselves, it would have been a more troubling thing had Dragon not had a crisis now and then, given the sheer amount of pressure and obstacles that came from raising a revolution. All they, or Kuma, or both, had to do was simply stay with him until he calmed down and things would eventually be better again.

It had been nearly a whole day—he was not getting better.

“This is awful,” the man muttered for the fifty-second time that day. Ivankov poured themselves some tea from the service and raised a perfectly-manicured eyebrow.

“Are you havingk problems zat my Hormones vould fix?”

“No… just… fuck!” Dragon stopped his pacing long enough to take a swing at thin air before grabbing at his hair again. “I can’t believe I did that—fuck—how could I have done that?!”

Ivankov sipped their tea.

“Fucking hell, Iva! I’m having a mental breakdown here!”

“I can see,” they replied flatly. “You’re ze one vho seems to be very mum on details.” Dragon stopped moving and stared at his friend and comrade, nearly at his breaking point.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“You know I keep your secrets.”

“No, Iva… this isn’t a normal secret. This is a something that, should you ‘learn’ about it in the future, you need to pretend that this conversation never, ever happened.”

“Vhat is so drastick that I need to play ze fool?”

“I think… I think I have a daughter,” he said, his tongue feeling thick as he spoke. “I think I walked out on my daughter.”

“You don’t have a daughter.”

“…but I walked out on this woman nineteen years ago.” Dragon took the bounty posters from his desk and showed it to Ivankov, who took put down their tea before taking the papers. “That child—her child—is now eighteen.”

“Her fazer could have been a rebound and ve vould not blame zis Olvia one bit.”

“Iva, I walked because she was too busy with those damned Poneglyphs to give me the time of day—any time we did…” Dragon exhaled heavily. “She was always too out of it to concentrate on us, so I left. I can almost guarantee there was no rebound.”

“Zis is vhy you people are exhaustingk,” Ivankov sighed. “How did you know eachozer?”

“She… was from Ohara… was one of Old Man Clover’s top researchers…”

“…and so, vhen you vent to investigate Clover’s knowledge assets—drawn in by the pursuit of zingks your fazer kept you from—you fell in love viz a girl instead…? How cliché, candy.” They put the papers down on the low table and went back to their tea. “You know for a fact she is yours?”

“I had Sabo research a stack of re-issued bounties—if her registry information’s correct, she was born six months after I last saw her mother. Olvia was distant, but she didn’t sleep around.” He rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. “Fuck…”

“Vhat does her registry information say about her fazer?”

“Dead.” They had to hand it to themselves—Ivankov didn’t think that finally getting information about Dragon’s past meant that he was going to spill it all… or if he was spilling this now, it was titillating to think of what else the man might have been hiding. “She made it look like she got married, never changed her name, and quickly became a widow. I’m sure that’s why… she has her family name instead of mine.”

“I’d imagine it’d be rough on a child, carrying a name zey had no connection to,” Ivankov shrugged. “Besides, if she had your name, that fazer of yours vould have kidnapped her longk ago.”

“Bad enough what he does have,” Dragon grumbled. Ivankov waited for an explanation and never got one—it was folly to think they were getting any more out of their friend than this very specific and embarrassing tidbit. They watched as he stopped moving, instead putting his hands on his waist. “So… what do we do…?”

“Not vhat ve do… but vhat you do.” They regarded him carefully. “You alvays know vhat to do. Vill you admit to everyone zat zis is revenge for a former lover? Zat zis child is more zan ze last of her kind? Or vill you do somezingk else? Somezingk interestingk?”

“Olvia wasn’t my lover, Iva—I would have married her if I could.”

“Zat is not here nor zere. Now: vhat vill you do?”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“What will you do?”

It was a simple enough question—the royal brat and his footman were due back in the sandpit soon, so he didn’t blame her for wondering. It was just him and Olvia in his room, the pair having snuck up there while Clover was regaling the students with drunkenly-told tales of his adventures. They were sharing a bottle of cheap wine at the table by his window—no other activities until they heard their heavy-sleepers of charges snoring the next room over.

“Not sure,” he shrugged. He looked out the window at the night sky, knowing that soon the view would change. “This place… it fits, you know?”

“For technically being here as a bodyguard, you sure are quite the pacifist,” she replied. Olvia took a sip of her drink and let out a low huff. “It’s honestly more interesting with you here.”

“Then maybe… I can come back…?”

“…to do what?” He turned his gaze to her and saw that her expression was now completely deadpan. “You’re smart, yes, but you’re no scholar. The Professor does not take too kindly to lightweights.”

“Is that what he refers to people who’ve had sex as?” he asked. She nearly choked on her drink. “I just want to be with you.”

“I know.” She saw a flicker of something cross his face, with it leaving as quickly as it came. “What…?”

“If I could just stay here, I would. Let the kids find their own way back home. It’s peaceful here… serene… like nothing bad will happen here.”

“Oh, it shall eventually,” she shrugged. “Things always happen.”

“Not like…” he paused, “not like what I’m used to with my father. There’s a certain unease in the air in a lot of places he’s sent me to, and none of it shows up here. Yeah, there’s people being petty and bad storms and the occasional drought of traders, but it’s not…” he sighed, “this place is calming, Olvia. There’s no real hostility.”

“Then maybe it would do you some good to return here,” she agreed. “Though I have to warn you: I get buried in my work when I’m not tutoring.”

“I think I can handle that; that might be when you’re the most gorgeous.”

“You don’t need to flatter me—you know what we’re doing later.”

“Doesn’t hurt to have a little extra insurance on the matter,” he winked. She giggled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “How much time do we have again?”

“Not enough.”

“Hmm… I think it’s enough.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It’s easy to leave someone when you realize that you can’t stand one another. Sure, actually doing it might not be easy, but once you’re gone, the effort to purge them from your life is cathartic in its own way. It’s a refusal to give them power, as they never should have had any to begin with.

Conversely, it’s difficult to leave someone you’re still in love with, mostly because it is that much of a challenge to forget. It’s still wanting them there, despite their deep, deep flaws, and yet remembering the pain of why that is simply not possible. It hurts and claws at the heart, burning and stabbing until there is nothing that doesn’t make you think of them.

What’s worse yet is when you’re both still in love, and yet they don’t stop you.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Revolutionary Army Dispatch

Official Memo from the Desk of Founder and Supreme Commander Monkey D. Dragon

The following Legacy Bounty Individuals (LBI) are to be actively recruited into the ranks. Any contact with such Legacy Bounty Individuals needs to be reported to the appropriate level of hierarchy.

-_-_-

Karasu

Age at Bounty: 25

Current Age: 35

Origin: North Blue

Current Location: North Blue (confirmed)

Devil Fruit: unknown type – appears corvid-centric – proceed with caution until confirmation

Crimes: contempt of law; resisting arrest; repeated destruction of Marine bases; torture of varying Marine officers; coordinating largest mass-release of inmates in the North Blue in 200 years

-_-_-

Waters Lila

Age at Bounty: 47

Current Age: 57

Origin: South Blue

Current Location: Grand Line, Paradise (confirmed)

Devil Fruit: none known

Crimes: grand theft; destruction of slaver ships; being impossible to arrest; harboring runaway slaves; cussing out Celestial Dragons; repeated escape from Celestial Dragon “owners”

-_-_-

Nico Robin

Age at Bounty: 8

Current Age: 18

Origin: West Blue

Current Location: unknown; potentially West Blue or Grand Line

Devil Fruit: Paramecia – can replicate limbs elsewhere

Crimes: only surviving member of the Archaeological Scholarly Association of Ohara; can read Poneglyphs; evading arrest; varying smaller crimes related to survival

HIGH PRIORITY – report directly to Supreme Commander if contact is made – capable of becoming the Light of the Revolution

-_-_-

May we stay strong in the face of our uncertain times.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Ten years.

It took ten years before Dragon heard any more solid news of Nico Robin. He had to hand it to her—she was a difficult woman to catch. Most of what he’d heard were whispers. A few people even saw her, but no one was able to get in a conversation long enough to convince her to join their ranks.

She was still alive, however. No matter what, Olvia’s daughter was still alive, and some days it was all he could do to be proud.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“I have to say, sir, you sure do know how to pick them.”

Dragon was laying down on a camping cot, the tent he was currently occupying in the far-reaching backwaters of the East, the backdrop of a civilian uprising in the distance. Sabo and Belo Betty had insisted on helming this charge, which left him sulking back at camp with a cold compress over his eyes as he fought off an impending headache in the command tent.

“What do you mean, Ahiru?” He heard the young woman’s mechanical arm click and whir as it handled papers at the table.

“One of your High Priority LBIs just had war declared on the Government for her.”

“You know Sabo has been making over half that list for years now.”

“She’s been on the list for a long while,” she replied.

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Nico Robin.”

Dragon sat up immediately, the compress falling to the ground. “What…? Who declared war for her?”

“The crew she’s with now,” the young woman said. She held out the newspaper as her boss stood and crossed the room. “A rookie crew from these waters, it seems.”

A small gasp left Dragon without him even realizing it: the Straw Hat Pirates.

Robin found Luffy.

His children found one another.

“…sir…?” He looked at her and saw the concern on her face. “Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just…” Ahiru gave a nod, avoiding eye contact. “It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.” Good—he did always appreciate her discretion.

He looked back at the newspaper in his hand and allowed himself a breath of relief. After everything, his children were still finding their family—finding each other—despite his own failings.

Maybe… maybe this was how things were supposed to go.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The kids he was supposed to be babysitting were off with the old man on the first of many “field trips” to the bar when he first made his move. She was in his room going over their academic progress when he allowed his hand to reach across the table and rest atop hers. One of her eyebrows arched, curious.

“Bold,” she noted with a smirk, “but is it bold enough?”

In retrospect, it had been a miracle in of itself that they had gotten themselves put back together in time for her skunk-drunk boss to bring back his equally-drunk charges. The trio were so drunk, they found, that they completely ignored the fact they still smelled of sex and her blouse was on inside-out.

What they didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt them, right? Besides, all it took was twenty minutes and they smelled like the kids’ vomit instead.

None of this was going into the report.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

There were times where Emporio Ivankov, Ruler of Kamabakka Queendom, Founder of the Revolutionary Army, Establishing Force behind New Kama Land, really did not enjoy dealing with their varying colleagues. Out of them all, the best—also the worst—was Monkey D. Dragon. He wasn’t even all that easy on the eyes, and yet his drama was nothing they wanted to ever touch.

Except, it kept finding them.

“You. Office. Now.”

They didn’t even break stride as they entered headquarters for the first time in years, simply walking by Dragon as he was discussing something with Lindbergh and Hack. Inazuma seamlessly inserted herself into the situation instead, allowing Dragon to grouchily follow Ivankov to their office looking extremely cowed. Newer recruits could only gawk—so this was the power of the legendary Okama Commander?

“Any ozer spawn you have running around I should know about?!” Ivankov hissed. Fuck… the door was barely closed…

“Iva…”

“Don’t you Iva me,” they scolded. “I should not learn you have a son because I am savingk his life in Impel Down! Vhat is viz you?!”

“Thank you, by the way,” Dragon said. “You did an excellent job keeping Luffy alive.”

“You tell me to not pry into your past, and yet your past keeps poppingk up in ze oddest places. Vhy are you like zis?!”

“We all agreed to bring as little of our baggage into this job as possible,” he claimed.

“Havingk people ve care about is not baggage!” they argued. “Sharingk stories about our lives is not baggage!”

“If anyone knew about my family, that’d put a target on their backs they might not want!”

“Even from your friends and comrades?!”

“Yes, Iva! Everyone!”

“Tch… no vonder you vere never told about the girl…”

“Iva!”

“Zese are your secrets, Dragon! First, you have a daughter from an old flame, now zis boy one of my candies finds in Impel Down is your son?! Vhat more is zere?!”

“You know I can’t tell you that!”

“Then vhat can you tell me?!”

“That as the figurehead of this entire operation, I can’t be seen as having any potential weaknesses! I come in with nothing so I can leave nothing behind! There is nothing to complicate things! A venture was never compromised because they kidnapped my son and held him at ransom! By him remaining far away, we all were safe.”

Ivankov huffed, their scowl pointed and accusatory. “I believe in zis, and I believe in you, so you better not make me regret anyzingk from here on out. Ve cannot afford to be fightingk.”

“I’m trying, Iva,” Dragon assured. “You know that’s all any of us can do.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Sir…? The Tequila Wolf contingent has returned.”

Dragon glanced up from his coffee to see the fresh recruit standing there in the doorway of his office, absolutely quaking in his boots. It was almost adorable how the newbies were so easily categorized into either Hilariously Overzealous or Scared Shitless, with this one solidly in the latter category.

“Usually the leaders of such an expedition report to me themselves that they’re back,” Dragon noted. “Why did they send you?”

“There’s a bit of a commotion, sir,” the recruit admitted. “They were able to find a High Priority LBI while freeing the slaves.”

“Now who would that be?”

“Uh… Nico Robin of the Straw Hat Pirates, sir.”

Dragon’s stomach found his throat as he paused, taking the information in. After vanishing into nothingness on Sabaody, she was now there, in Baltigo. Ten long years and she was finally there, in the same building as him; it was terrifying to think of.

“Send her up once she’s been given the orientation,” he requested, keeping his stoic mask. “High Priorities always need a briefing from me personally as to discuss what they might bring to our cause.” It was the truth and the recruit saluted before leaving.

The wait was honestly one of the worst stretches of time in his life. Dragon wasn’t entirely certain whether was pacing for a few minutes or a few hours, but eventually there was a knock at the door and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He breathed deeply and collected himself.

“Come in.”

Olvia’s ghost walked in, almost as though no time had passed at all.

“Please close the door; I’d prefer this conversation to be private.”

“Since you asked nicely,” she nodded. Robin gently shut the door and took a few steps into the room, unsure if she should sit or remain standing like Dragon. “I hear you often debrief new additions and allies yourself. It’s commendable to be so active in the base of your organization.”

“I cannot do it on my own,” he claimed. She watched him as he walked over to the window, using it as an excuse to not look at her directly. “Does this mean you are going to join my ranks?”

“Consider me a loan of sorts,” she chuckled. “I have some time to burn while waiting to reunite with my crew and I might as well do something worth while in the meantime.” He could see her reflection in the glass; it was scary how much she looked like her mother. “Your son is something of a tricky individual to follow; it’s just a matter of chance that I’m keeping my alliances in the family.”

Oh, how little she knew despite how well she was informed.

“Has… anyone ever told you why we founded the Revolutionary Army?”

“…to rise up against the tyranny of the World Government,” she replied. He was silent. “Then again, something tells me that there’s more to it than that. There always is.” She watched him, pensive. “What was the final straw that drove you? A scuffle with the Marine Hero?”

“He barely cares about what he does on a daily basis, let alone care what I do enough to get into that big of a fight… no.” He did not turn around, instead preferring to look out the window. “It was Ohara.”

It was slight, but he heard her inhale slightly.

“What was your connection to Ohara?” Robin asked, her voice wavering slightly.

“I spent a lot of time there when I was younger than you are now,” he admitted. He sighed, then opened his mouth to talk again, only for Robin to grab his arm and turn him around to face her, eyes wild in shock.

“Did you know my mother?!”

“I… I fell in love with your mother.”

She let go of his arm and took a step back. “…oh. That must have been difficult.”

“It was,” he agreed. “Olvia was a wonderful woman. Sharp-witted, dedicated, kind, insurmountably intelligent…” He smiled to himself, letting his gaze slip out of focus towards a bit of wall. “She had hair like starlight and eyes that would reflect the galaxies.”

“Did she ever…?” Her question trailed off, unsure if she wanted to give life to the words herself.

“Your mother’s true love was knowledge, and by extension, her research. She had no room for me, so I left.”

She scoffed at that, almost relieved. “What do you have to be sorry about? It happened a long time ago.”

“Summer 1493, if you want to be precise about it.”

The only sound was the steady ticking of the clock on the mantle. Dragon focused his eyes again and looked at Robin, seeing the careful, calculating face he’d last seen over twenty-five years ago. She eventually nodded—everything fit.

“You didn’t know, did you?”

“I didn’t, though I don’t know how much good I would have been had I known and stayed.”

“You would have been there.”

“You’ve met my father—do you think I would have let him raise Luffy if I didn’t think it was the better choice?”

“That is true…” She looked him in the eyes, as though she was trying to see where the crack in the lie was. “What brought you to Ohara in the first place?”

“Initially? Babysitting. When all was said and done, it pissed off my father that I was in love, so I went back.”

“Then it is not just him that Luffy gets his defiance streak from,” she noted.

“I’m the one running a Revolution and you thought he got that from my father?”

“Merely an observation.” She smiled lightly at him, an expression so her mother that it nearly made him hug her. “Now, I think we have some negotiating involving the terms of my stay?”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Babysitting was a drag.

According to Aunt Tsuru, his dad owed the Queen of Alabasta a favor or eight and now it was Dragon’s turn to fulfill a request, as it involved the prince and his footman and not the old broad herself.

“We’re almost there!” the fifteen-year-old prince beamed. He turned towards his servant with a wide grin across his face. “Can you imagine?! That tree is thousands of years old! It doesn’t even have the Alabastian climate to help preserve it! Something that old! Still alive!”

“It truly is something, milord,” the young servant agreed. Igaram…? Yeah, Igaram and Prince Cobra. They were almost the exact same age and yet the difference between them was vast. Even though the princeling wasn’t an asshole about it, there was still that chasm Dragon knew was there… even if it was the footman that kept it there.

“Go pack up your shit,” Dragon said. “We’re going to be living on the island while we’re here, so you can’t leave shit onboard where it can be stolen.”

“Gotcha!” Cobra dashed below deck of the small clinker-built cog, Igaram close behind him insisting on doing it for him. Dragon rolled his eyes—this was honestly the last thing he wanted to be doing, but his father was… persuasive.

With his fists. The Hero of the Marines beat his son in a fistfight. Fuck.

It took another half an hour to get into the harbor at Ohara. It was a lively town, with the Tree of Knowledge dominating the landscape. Since he was contracted to be the teens’ bodyguard, Dragon went with Prince Cobra and Igaram as they went to the massive library that was carved into the tree itself, the entire building a living testament to knowledge.

“Ah, there you are.” Dragon saw a middle-aged man approach them as they entered the trunk. “Prince Cobra, I presume?”

“Yes; you must be Professor Clover?”

“That I am!” Dragon fought back rolling his eyes—everyone here was a nerd. “Queen Ouraeus told me you are almost as thirsty for knowledge as myself.”

“Indeed,” Cobra confirmed. “I have to be knowledgeable to become a great king one day, and Mother said you were one of the cleverest and learned men she’s ever met. It will be an honor to learn under you.”

“In that regard, I have to apologize,” Clover said. “Most of your tutoring will be conducted by one of my top pupils, who shall report to me on your progress. I’ve already written your mother and she has given her permission.”

“It must be difficult running this place,” Igaram noted, still staring at the interworkings of the library as they milled about.

“It is, unfortunately,” Clover sighed. “My apologies; you must be young Mister Igaram, which makes you…”

“Dragon—their babysitter.”

“Bodyguard,” the prince corrected. “He comes highly recommended from several high-ranking Marines as trustworthy.”

“Do you now…?”

“The Marine’s my old man, who can fuck off for all I care.” There was something about this Clover man that made him seem guarded… something wasn’t entirely legit. “I think he’s hoping his wayward son straightens himself out on this mission or some shit like that.”

“Then I’m sure we’ll get on splendidly,” Clover nodded. He then waved someone over, who gathered her books from the desk and approached them. “This is the one who is going to teach you lads.”

“Oh… I can’t…!” Igaram panicked. “I’m just here so His Highness…!”

“Nonsense—the Queen requested both of you be tutored,” Clover insisted. “This is Olvia-san. She is one of the most brilliant minds on this island and a native of Ohara. I leave your education in her care.”

Dragon swallowed hard—the young woman who walked up to them was one of the most gorgeous people he’d ever seen. Her brown eyes were the color of warm, lacquered wood and her platinum-blonde hair almost seemed to shimmer against her sun-bronzed skin.

“It is a pleasure to welcome the Alabastian delegation to our humble halls,” she said sweetly. Clover noticed that all three newcomers seemed overcome by her presence, which gave him an idea.

“How about if I take our newest young scholars on a tour of the library?” he offered. “Olvia, you can discuss the accommodations with their bodyguard. We can do the initial assessment after lunch.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” she agreed. Clover took the two teens with him and went off into the library, while Dragon stood awkwardly next to Olvia. “Would you like to see where you and your prince shall be staying?”

“He’s not my prince,” Dragon blurted out. “I mean… uh… my dad owes his mom some favors. It’s… complicated.”

“That must be awkward.”

“A little, but…” he shrugged, “you know.”

She gave a slight chuckle at that, the corner of her mouth tugging up in a smile. “Let me show you to the dorms.”

He nodded—what else could he do?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was difficult having Robin around, all things considered. Although she fit in amongst the other Revolutionaries with wonderful ease, there was still the fact that Dragon could not look at her without feeling a pang of regret. He hated the feeling, but did not avoid her. It was difficult, yet he knew that bringing her into the organization after such a long effort only to ignore her would be suspicious… too suspicious for him to counter. He instead kept on, as though the woman was not the mirror image of his long-lost love. Hers was not the face he waged this war over, nor was it the one that would lob the final volley.

Their venture had grown much larger than Olvia’s memory, and yet to have her daughter in their midst? However temporary? It was priceless.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The rest of the day went by in a whirl. Cobra and Igaram were going to share a room during their yearlong academic retreat, with Dragon getting an adjoining one to himself. He followed along as Olvia showed him around the tree’s internal chambers—where she would be tutoring the teens to where the kitchens were—and it was extremely difficult to keep his mind on her words and not drift off into a daydream.

Seas, she was pretty.

“It looks like Professor Clover is only partway done with his tour,” she noted as they stopped on a staircase. They could see the academic with the teens as they scoured some shelves, looking for a specific book. “They’re good kids, it seems.”

“Yeah, they are as good as fifteen-year-olds are going to be, anyhow,” he shrugged. “It’s still going to be a pain in the ass.”

“So your contract is to stay here for the duration of their tutoring?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to bring them back to Alabasta myself, so I can’t just ditch them here and be done with it. That’s not going to be fun.”

“Well,” Olvia chuckled, “if you ever need anything, let me know. I’m sure I can help out.”

He hesitated before deciding to fuck it.

“Actually, I’d, erm, like to get to know you better, please. Outside of the kids.”

“…and why’s that?”

“…because one day, someone is going to ask me who that woman is teaching my charges, and I’d like to be able to say more than the pretty one with the books.”

She smiled knowingly. “Nico Olvia; nice to meet you.”

“Monkey D. Dragon; the pleasure is mine.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Her name is Nico Robin, sire.”

“Nico…? That is a name from the past, indeed.” Cobra frowned as he looked at the photograph of the woman who was reportedly conducting business on the behalf of Baroque Works. It was late at night after everyone else was in bed as he sat up in his chambers, one of the few times he could truly talk freely with his captain of the guard. “She looks enough like her, if my memory serves me right.”

“I’m surprised I remember anything about that trip at all,” Igaram groused. “Even the smell of beer is ruined.”

Cobra chuckled at that; few things made him laugh these days, and much of it involved the past. Seas… that had been before he had even met Titi…

“Possibly,” Igaram continued, “if we appeal to her on the shared admiration of her mother, we might be able to get her to cooperate.”

“No,” the king said firmly. “If she goes by her mother’s family name, then she is likely a sensitive subject. We cannot let it be suggested that we ever knew her.” He placed the photo down on his writing desk and exhaled heavily. “That was thirty years ago… and where were we when she was thrown to the wolves as a child?”

“Burying your lady mother and readying for your marriage, not to mention the chaos that a monarch change involves.”

“…which is why I wish to slowly abdicate, to give Vivi a better transition than what I had… if we even make it that long.”

“It is a fine goal, sire,” Igaram agreed. He watched his monarch—his life-long friend—stare into the middle distance, clearly wrapped up in thought. “Is there anything else you require tonight, milord?”

“No, thank you. You may go now, Igaram.”

“As you wish, milord.” He bowed deeply. “For the good of Alabasta.”

Igaram quietly left the king’s chambers, finding that the young princess was waiting for him out in the corridor. She was such a haunting image of the late queen that it was terrifying…

…but this was a child, even if some would mistake her for being grown.

“Is she the same one that you remember?” she asked, voice quiet. He shook his head.

“Even if she was, we would have no basis on which to build a parley. We are to function as though the name is a coincidence.”

Vivi nodded slowly, considering her options. “Then I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to infiltrate Baroque Works.”

“…but Princess…”

“I can’t sit by and do nothing, Igaram. That’s not what a monarch is supposed to do. I’m here to serve the people, right? That’s not always about fancy trips to the Levely and hosting other nobles.”

“You are correct way too often for my blood pressure’s liking, milady,” he sighed, accepting their fates. “When do you wish to leave?”

“Tonight.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Dragon-san…?” He glanced over from the map and saw Cobra standing there, the kid only growing into something more awkward by the day. “How did you know you were in love with Nico-sensei?”

“I just kind of did,” he grunted. They were a full day out from Ohara, sailing back towards the entrance to the Grand Line. “Why? Someone there catch your fancy?”

“No… it’s just…” the teen worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “I’ve been taught plenty this past year, but watching you and Nico-sensei reminded me that I still don’t know what it will be like when I love someone. I imagine it’s… difficult.”

“It is,” Dragon admitted, “but sometimes it just finds you. At first it’s a like—or maybe they’re just smoking hot—and eventually you just find yourself realizing that the world isn’t quite the same without them in it.”

“…but that’s how I feel about my friends… my mother… my people…”

“Love comes in a lot of versions, kid,” Dragon shrugged. “You’re pretty observant to be a noble and understand that you should love your people—something tells me you won’t have a problem figuring out the romantic part when it comes.”

“You sure…?”

“Yeah.” He then jerked his head towards the rigging. “Get your asses up there and secure the topsail; we’re going through a real windy area soon.”

At least as the kids were up in the rigging, he’d have some quiet.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Are you sure that going back is what you wish?” Dragon asked. Robin was chuckling softly as Koala sobbed in her arms, not wanting the other woman to leave. “You could do a lot of good here…”

“I will do a lot of good anywhere I go,” she claimed… and rightfully so. “My place is with Luffy. He’s my captain and we’re not done yet.”

“Just don’t tell him that I’m still around; I’d rather do that myself,” Sabo chuckled.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“So the kids… they’re doing well…?”

Olvia shrugged as she tied Cobra’s hair back as the teen slept—last thing they wanted was for the kid to wake up and get drunken vomit in his hair. She wasn’t entirely sure that getting a sovereign prince blackout-wasted-drunk every weekend was setting a good example, but Professor Clover was not one to be argued with when several pints were on the table.

“Well enough,” she replied. She glanced over at Dragon, who was peeling an ale-soaked jacket off Igaram, and shrugged. He would know if he had the ability to sit in place while the teens were at their studies, yet school hours were often when he went wandering around Ohara, taking in the local sights. “Unless there’s a sudden breakthrough, I think there’s one thing that they won’t be able to do, but it won’t be horrible in the long-run.”

“So not something Her Highness requested?”

“Oh, she requested it, but it’s notoriously difficult. People of all ages attempt to learn and some never get it, no matter how long they try.”

“What’s that? Some sort of arcane science?”

“Reading.”

He paused, watching her as she finished putting Cobra to bed. “You’re talking about a prince and his nursemaid’s son—they’ve long been able to read.”

“Do you promise?” she asked.

“Promise what…?”

“Do you promise?” Olvia went to his side and held out her hand. Dragon looked at it, then up into her eyes, before placing his hand in hers.

“I promise,” he replied. “Better yet: I trust you.”

With a nod, Olvia helped Dragon finish with Igaram before taking his hand again and leading him out into the corridor. They went through the labyrinthine maze of staircases until they reached one that had no light down it, only darkness.

“The fragile manuscript storage room?” he wondered. She shook her head before taking the handrail and carefully stepping down into the dark.

“You know how we here in Ohara strive to uncover the secrets of the world through our research,” she explained, not waiting for him to follow. He did, which made her smile in the dark. “If your father came here and asked what sort of research we were doing, we could honestly tell him that much of it involves ruins and old tomes, surviving fragments from over the centuries. It is different from Vegapunk’s research, yet it is no different in our dedication or the danger that follows.”

“Vegapunk is being courted by the Government,” he reminded her.

“True, yet this… this is something we’re been hiding for much, much longer, and the knowledge from which we glean from this will benefit everyone, from us to Vegapunk to the young prince and everyone who wishes for the truth.”

“Olvia, what are you…?” He felt her stop in front of him and heard a heavy latch open.

“Welcome, Dragon, to the Poneglyph Chamber.”

The light from inside the room was bright as Olvia opened the door and ushered Dragon in. Once his eyes adjusted, he gasped at the sight of the giant stone in front of him, scholars all around as they went about their duties. Some stared at them as they made their way across the room, but most remained unfazed.

“You… you are teaching them to read this…?”

“Attempting; there is one in Alabasta, a rubbing of which Queen Ouraeus provided us in her youth. The secret history lies in these markings, and if we are to understand the Void Century, then we must first understand these Poneglyphs.”

“…but he’s not getting it.”

“No; I would be impressed if he ever did, if we’re being honest. His language skills lie where he’s able to understand the practical applications. Although this limits him to things such as Alabastian and Celestial and sailors’ creoles, it means that academic languages are unfortunately beyond his grasp.” She watched as he placed his hand on the Poneglyph, taking it all in. “There is nothing else in the world like it, is there?”

“Dad’s bosses would have a field day with this,” Dragon marveled. He looked at Olvia, seeing that her face was concerned and distant. “That’s your true goal here, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“That’s wonderful,” he replied. “It’s never sat well with me that there’s so much we don’t know, and the fact you’re doing it here? Sticking it to Dad and his bosses and their bosses? It’s like a military brat’s dream come true.”

Olvia nodded at that, too choked up to respond properly. Something deep inside her said she was doing the right thing by showing him their biggest secret, and the sparkle in his eyes made her heart swell.

He was going to be the one to do it.

He was going to be the one to make all their research worth it.

All they needed to do now was wait.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a beautiful day as the Thousand Sunny sailed towards their next destination. With Fish-man Island the the Ryugyu Kingdom behind them, the crew’s spirits were high as they enjoyed their time together.

“Hey, Robin, do you want to play with us?” Luffy asked. She glanced up from her book and saw her captain standing rather close, with Usopp in the background attempting to ride on Chopper’s full-reindeer form as though his back was a furry surfboard. “It’s a lot of fun!”

“I’ll pass for now, but thank you,” she replied. Luffy didn’t go away, the teen instead tilting his head at her. “Yes…?”

“Something’s different about you,” he noted. “It’s not bad. Just… different.”

“We’re all different than how we were before,” she reminded him.

“I know.”

“…but there’s something else…?”

“Yeah.” Luffy went and threw his arms around Robin’s neck in a hug. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“I’m glad too,” she replied, patting his back. “I think you might want to get back to the others—Usopp seems like he’s getting rather good at that.”

“Oh! Hey! Usopp! Let me have a go!” Luffy was sufficiently distracted enough to run off and tackle the sniper right off the doctor’s back, all three of the teens laughing.

‘Maybe, we both always had an idea as to the truth,’ she thought as she watched her youngest crewmates roughhouse. They ran around silly until Sanji came out of the kitchen with snacks and drinks, snatching their attention. ‘The little brother I always wanted was right here after all.’

#Monkey D. Dragon #Nico Olvia #Nico Robin #Emporio Ivankov #Professor Clover #One Piece #fan fiction #this is complete crackfic that I expect to be disproven #but again: let's torture characters by making them related #but this time give Olvia and Dragon both some character development #it makes more sense than some stuff I've seen #and down here bc they're kind of spoilers I guess #Nefertari Cobra #Igaram (One Piece)#what is linear storytelling #this is a fcking mess but idc

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