#comfort character that I hurt and project all my hurts to <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[aspenmissing]

Hello! I just love reading the things you post! I check your profile all the time to see if you've posted anything new 😅

If you can, could you write a situation where S/O has an overprotective dog, where every time the arcane characters try to have even the slightest contact with S/O, S/O's dog growls, barks or even tries to bite them?

You can do as many characters as you want, but could you put Mel as one of the characters? I love her, and I hardly see her in writing like this.

*That's it, have a great year!

(I apologize if there are any spelling mistakes, English is not my language 😅)

ɢᴜᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏɢ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5643 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ɪꜱ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜰᴜʟ, ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʟʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡᴡᴡᴡ, ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ᴍᴇʟ ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪᴄᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ! <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ

JAYCE

It was a quiet evening in Piltover. The sun had begun its descent beyond the horizon, casting soft hues of orange and gold across the city. Inside Y/N’s apartment, the hum of the city faded into the background as she sat cross-legged on her couch, crochet needles in hand, working on her latest project. Remy, her overprotective dog, lay beside her on the floor, his eyes alert and ears pricked for any sign of disturbance.

It had been a long day, but Y/N found peace in these small moments. She had gotten used to life in Piltover, the noise and bustle, but the comforts of home remained her sanctuary. As she gently threaded the yarn through the needles, she felt a warm sense of contentment. That is, until Remy’s low growl suddenly broke the calm silence.

Y/N paused, looking down at the scruffy terrier. The dog’s eyes were fixed on the door with an intensity that was all too familiar. His ears were flat against his head, and his stance was tense, like a coiled spring ready to strike. The hairs along his back stood on end.

“What is it, Remy?” Y/N asked, her voice soft, but it was clear she already knew the answer. The growl deepened, low and steady, vibrating through the room.

The door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped through: Jayce. As soon as he entered, Remy’s growl escalated into a sharp bark, loud and insistent. The dog immediately jumped to his feet, tail stiff and hackles raised.

“Remy, no,” Y/N called softly, but her voice carried the authority of years spent with the dog. “It’s just Jayce.”

Jayce froze in his tracks, his hand still on the doorknob as Remy continued to bark, his eyes fixed on him. "Uh... Should I come back later?" Jayce asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Y/N sighed, setting her crochet project aside and standing up. "Sorry, Jayce. He’s... very protective of me. I should’ve warned you."

Remy’s barks grew sharper, and he took a few steps forward, his body rigid with suspicion. He wasn’t going to let anyone near his owner without a thorough assessment, and that included Jayce.

“It’s alright, Remy. You know him,” Y/N said, walking over to the dog and kneeling down to calm him. Remy’s growl softened just a bit, but his eyes never left Jayce.

Jayce slowly approached, his hand outstretched, but the moment his fingers moved even a fraction toward Y/N, Remy lunged forward with a warning snap of his teeth.

“Hey!” Jayce flinched back, his eyes wide as he raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m not going to hurt her, you know!”

Y/N chuckled nervously, standing up and trying to place herself between them. “I told you, Remy is a little... protective. He was the only one who had my back when I first came to Piltover, and he’s been like this ever since.”

Jayce blinked, looking at the dog in a mix of surprise and amusement. "I didn’t think dogs could be so territorial."

“Remy’s not just any dog. He’s a little warrior,” Y/N teased, her voice soft and affectionate as she scratched behind Remy’s ears. He huffed but seemed to settle just a bit, though his eyes never lost their intensity.

“Seems like I’m the one who needs to earn his trust, huh?” Jayce said, crossing his arms with a slight grin. “Well, I guess I can’t say I’m not up for a challenge.”

Y/N shook her head, smiling at him. “It’s not that easy. He’s not going to warm up to you just because you show up and give him a nice smile. You’ve got to work for it.”

Jayce looked skeptical, but he was determined. “What’s the first step?”

“Well,” Y/N began, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief, “for starters, he likes food. You might want to try offering him some treats. But be careful—he’s picky about who he accepts them from.”

Jayce raised an eyebrow but nodded. “I can handle that.”

Y/N walked to the small kitchen, retrieving a treat from a jar she kept on the counter. She returned to the living room and crouched down, holding the treat out to Remy. The dog eyed it with suspicion before glancing up at Jayce. After a moment of tense silence, Remy took a tentative step forward, his nose twitching as he sniffed the treat. Still, his body remained coiled and ready to react.

Jayce, watching closely, stayed still, not wanting to provoke him. Slowly, he lowered his hand, palm out but offering no sudden movements.

“Good boy, Remy,” Y/N murmured, her voice steady and calming. “It’s okay.”

After what felt like an eternity, Remy’s nose hovered over the treat, and with a cautious swipe of his tongue, he took it from Y/N’s hand. The dog’s eyes flicked back up to Jayce, a sharp glare still present, but there was a small shift in the air. He wasn’t as hostile as before, though it was clear that trust would need to be earned.

“Nice job, Jayce,” Y/N said with a smile, stepping back to let the dog enjoy the treat. “That’s the first step. You’ve got to show him you’re not a threat.”

Jayce nodded, his confidence growing slightly. “I’m getting the hang of this.”

Y/N smiled at him, but before she could say anything more, Remy let out a sharp bark, followed by a low growl as he moved closer to the couch. His eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be giving Jayce another silent warning.

“Alright, alright,” Y/N laughed softly. “I think he’s still not happy with you being this close. He’s going to need time, but... I think he’s coming around.”

Jayce chuckled softly, though he seemed a little more cautious than before. “I’ve never had a dog so... well, territorial. But I guess I can respect that. I’ll give him his space for now.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said with a grateful smile. “It’s just going to take time. He’s loyal to a fault, but once you’ve earned his trust, he’ll be your best friend. I promise.”

Jayce sat down on the couch a little further from Remy, trying to show that he respected the dog’s boundaries. The moment he did, Remy seemed to settle slightly, though he continued to eye Jayce warily.

=

For the rest of the evening, Jayce kept his distance, content to simply sit near Y/N while Remy kept an ever-watchful eye on him. Every now and then, the dog would glance at Jayce, as if gauging his intentions. Jayce, for his part, remained patient, knowing that this was just the beginning.

It wasn’t long before Remy’s stance began to relax, the tension slowly leaving his small frame. He eventually laid down, curling up beside Y/N’s feet, though his eyes never fully left Jayce. It was progress, small but significant.

Jayce smiled softly to himself, a sense of accomplishment settling over him. He might not have earned Remy’s full trust yet, but he was willing to take it one step at a time.

And as for Y/N? She couldn’t help but smile at the two of them—her overprotective dog and the man who was determined to win him over. She knew it would take time, but somehow, she was confident that the three of them could make this work. After all, even the most unlikely of families could find a way to coexist.

VIKTOR

Viktor had always been somewhat of a patient man. His work at the Academy, his inventions, and even his personal life with Y/N had taught him that patience was key. But today… today was testing that patience to its absolute limits.

He stood in the living room of Y/N's apartment, cane in hand, waiting for her to finish putting away some things in the kitchen. His heart swelled with warmth at the thought of her—of how much she had become his world over the past few months. The early stages of their relationship had been full of discovery, but now, with the idea of spending more time together, Viktor felt an incredible sense of contentment. It wasn’t just the excitement of new love; it was the quiet moments that mattered most—reading together, talking late into the night, and even the routine of everyday life.

As he waited, he admired the little details of her apartment—how it was cozy, lived-in, with warm hues of color that made it feel like home. A place where the twins often played, where they made memories. A place where he could truly be himself. His fingers gently gripped his cane, and a thought crossed his mind: How had he gotten so lucky?

He made his move toward her, cane tapping gently on the ground as he limped over, hoping to surprise her with a kiss on the cheek. Just as he reached her side, he felt it.

A low, guttural growl.

Viktor froze, his brow furrowing. He turned his head slowly to see the culprit—a large German Shepherd, eyes narrowed and body stiff, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. The dog’s fur was raised along its back, and its gaze was locked on him with a fierce intensity.

"Easy there, boy," Viktor said, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing, though there was a hint of confusion in it. "It’s just me."

The German Shepherd, however, was having none of it. He took a step forward, his growl deepening, a warning that his patience was wearing thin.

Y/N, hearing the noise, turned around with a startled look on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern, but then her lips curved upward, apologetic yet exasperated. "Viktor, what did I tell you?" she asked, walking over to see what was going on.

Viktor chuckled awkwardly, attempting to lighten the mood. "I was only coming over to kiss you, love."

But before Y/N could even take a step toward him, the dog darted forward, blocking Viktor’s path entirely. The Shepherd barked sharply, louder than Viktor expected, warning Viktor to stay back. It was an aggressive move, yet there was an underlying protectiveness in the dog’s stance.

Y/N sighed, her hand rubbing the back of her neck, her expression a mixture of frustration and fondness. "I’m so sorry, Viktor. He’s just… protective. You know how he gets."

Viktor’s lips twitched into a half-smile, despite the tension in the air. "I’m starting to understand that, yes."

Y/N moved forward, her voice soft and soothing as she knelt down to calm the dog. "Max, it’s okay. Viktor’s not going to hurt me."

The German Shepherd, named Max, looked at her, still skeptical, but his growl gradually faded into low whines. Max’s eyes flickered between Viktor and Y/N, and after a long, tense moment, he finally stepped aside. However, the dog wasn’t completely convinced yet; his posture remained tense, and his gaze never left Viktor, as if waiting for any sign of danger.

Viktor took a careful step forward, cautiously holding out his hand. He knew better than to rush the situation—Max had to be won over, step by step. "How about this time?" he asked gently, offering the same calm and patient approach he had shown to so many challenges in his life.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a fond smile, clearly amused by the entire situation. She reached for Viktor’s hand, but as soon as she did, Max moved forward again, his tail stiff. With a slight tilt of his head, he grabbed Viktor’s cane in his mouth, yanking it from his hand with alarming force.

Viktor blinked, watching the dog chew on the cane with determined enthusiasm. He wasn’t sure if Max was trying to assert dominance or simply express disapproval. Either way, the dog was treating Viktor’s cane like a chew toy. Viktor’s brow raised in surprise.

"Well, I wasn’t expecting that," Viktor said with a dry chuckle, glancing at Y/N.

Y/N laughed softly, the sound light and sweet, yet tinged with the unmistakable stress of dealing with an overzealous dog. "He’s just making sure you’re safe, Viktor. You’ll have to earn his trust. But maybe… not chewing on your cane."

Viktor sighed in amusement, shaking his head. He bent down slightly to retrieve the cane from Max’s firm grip, carefully prying it free. "I suppose I’ll need a new cane if this keeps up."

Y/N grinned as she gently took Viktor’s hand, guiding him back toward the couch. She planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and with a last glance at Max, she continued. "You have to admit, though, he's dedicated."

Max, now satisfied that Viktor wasn’t a threat, dropped the cane and wagged his tail, but his eyes remained fixed on Viktor. It was almost as if the dog was keeping him under surveillance, still unsure if this human was worthy of Y/N's affection.

Viktor carefully sat down, leaning his chewed cane against the armrest as Y/N joined him. She leaned her head against his shoulder, her warmth comforting against the backdrop of the living room. Max, despite being protective, made a show of sitting on the floor beside them, though his eyes never strayed too far from Viktor.

"You know," Viktor said with a smirk, glancing at the dog, "I think I prefer the challenge of winning over the dog to anything else."

Y/N laughed softly, her breath warm against his skin. "Well, I hope you’re up for a long-term commitment, because Max is going to be a part of this."

Viktor’s heart swelled at the thought. He glanced down at the protective dog by their feet, then back at Y/N, and his expression softened. "Neither am I."

And in that moment, Viktor realized—this, right here, was home. With Y/N, with their little family, and even with Max, who might not be a fan of him yet, but who would come to understand what Viktor already knew: they were in this together, for the long haul.

JAYVIK

The sun hung lazily in the afternoon sky, casting a golden glow over the small park at the edge of Piltover. It was a rare, quiet day—one where Viktor, Y/N, and Jayce could escape the confines of their usual responsibilities. Y/N had suggested a walk, and Viktor had agreed, eager for a break from his work. Jayce had been practically bouncing with energy, more than happy to join, his laughter filling the air as they walked side by side.

Y/N had brought her dog along, as she often did. His name was Ragnar, a large, muscular Rottweiler with a glossy black-and-tan coat and an imposing presence. Though he was usually calm, he had an intense protectiveness when it came to Y/N. His instincts were sharp, and he wasn’t quick to trust anyone—especially if they got too close to his beloved owner.

As they strolled along the path, Viktor leaned heavily on his cane, his other hand resting at his side. His posture was elegant despite the slight limp, and his attention was more on Y/N than anything else. Every now and then, he’d glance over at her with a soft smile, but his focus was often interrupted by Ragnar, who trotted at her side, watching Viktor and Jayce with a keen eye.

Jayce, as always, kept up with an energetic pace, his grin wide as he glanced at Y/N. “So, what exactly makes Ragnar the world’s most overprotective dog, huh? He’s been eyeing me like I’m some kind of threat.”

Y/N laughed softly, adjusting the leash in her hand. “He’s always been this way. Ever since I got him, he’s had this... intense need to look out for me. And sometimes that means getting a little... territorial.”

Viktor, walking just behind them, couldn’t help but chuckle, his cane tapping rhythmically on the pavement. “Territorial seems like an understatement. Ragnar looks like he’d throw the entire city into disarray if anyone even thought about threatening you.”

Ragnar, who had been walking at Y/N’s side, suddenly stiffened and let out a low growl as Viktor drew closer. The sound was enough to make Viktor pause, his eyes flicking down to the dog, whose dark eyes were now fixed on him.

“Viktor,” Y/N warned softly, her voice calm but amused. “He’s just... wary of you. He doesn’t like people getting too close to me unless he’s okay with them.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “I see. I’ll have to earn Ragnar’s approval before I can even hold your hand, it seems.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a warm smile. “Pretty much. But it’ll come with time, I’m sure. He’s just protective.”

Jayce, sensing an opportunity for a little fun, grinned widely. “Well, I’m not going to let a little thing like a dog stop me.” He reached out toward Y/N, but as his hand neared, Ragnar immediately stepped between them, growling louder, his body tense.

Y/N quickly tugged on the leash, a light laugh escaping her. “Okay, okay. Maybe not yet, Jayce.”

Jayce raised both hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “What is this—some sort of initiation? Am I going to have to pass Ragnar’s loyalty test to get close to you?”

Viktor chuckled quietly, adjusting his grip on his cane. “It would appear so.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to stifle her laughter. “You two are hopeless. Ragnar just needs to get used to you both. You’re not that bad, I promise.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Jayce crouched down slightly, lowering himself to Ragnar’s level. “Alright, buddy. I’m just here to walk with your owner. No harm meant.” He slowly extended a hand, but Ragnar’s gaze remained fixed on him, the growl never fully disappearing.

Y/N gave Ragnar a gentle but firm command. “Ragnar, stop. It’s okay. You need to trust them.” She turned to Jayce and Viktor, her voice full of affection. “He’s not used to... this. But he’ll come around.”

Jayce stood up again, grinning. “I guess I’ll have to win Ragnar over first, huh?”

Viktor glanced at Y/N, his smile softening. “Looks like we’re both in the doghouse, then.”

VANDER

It was one of those rare days where Y/N had no urgent work to get to, no battles to fight, and no one to protect. She was sprawled across her bed, wrapped in a soft blanket with the kids surrounding her like a cozy barricade. Powder had her feet propped up on Y/N’s lap while Vi and Mylo were sitting cross-legged next to her. Claggor had somehow managed to curl up in the tiniest space at the edge of the bed, practically melting into the blankets.

Thorin, her fiercely protective dog—a large, sleek Doberman Pinscher—was seated at the end of the bed, his piercing brown eyes never leaving the door. His ears were alert, twitching at every small sound that filtered in from outside, but for now, the dog was in a rare moment of calm, perhaps sensing his owner’s need for peace. He had always been attuned to her moods, and today, it seemed, he too was settling in for a lazy, quiet afternoon.

"Don't you dare try to move," Powder teased, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she leaned back against Y/N's side, "I think we all need this."

Y/N chuckled softly, her fingers gently running through Powder’s hair. “I won’t. This is... exactly what I needed.”

The sound of the door creaking open sliced through the warmth of the room, and there stood Vander, leaning casually against the doorframe with a soft grin on his face. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, and his presence filled the room just as much as the light from the afternoon sun. His eyes immediately sought Y/N’s, warmth and affection shining through them. But as soon as he made eye contact with her, Thorin’s head snapped to attention.

The dog’s gaze flicked from Vander’s face to his boots, and then the low growl began to build in his chest. It wasn’t loud at first, more of a warning, but the moment Vander took a step forward, it deepened into a steady, rumbling sound.

“Easy, boy,” Y/N murmured under her breath, but Thorin wasn’t listening. His ears were stiff and forward, his body rigid, and the growl built into a deep, resonant warning that had the hairs on the back of Vander’s neck standing up. His eyes never left the towering figure of the man at the door.

Vander chuckled softly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, Y/N. Thought I’d join you all for a moment.”

As soon as his foot crossed the threshold, Thorin rose to his feet with an almost mechanical precision, his eyes narrowing in on Vander’s every move. With a single, sharp bark, the Doberman advanced with purpose, his teeth flashing in a warning that was impossible to ignore.

“No way,” Mylo laughed, nudging Powder who was clearly enjoying the scene. "Looks like Thorin’s not a fan of you today."

Vander froze in place, watching the dog’s every move carefully, his usual calm demeanour not quite as unshakable as usual. “Not a fan, huh?”

Y/N sighed, a soft chuckle escaping her as she sat up slightly. She reached out a hand toward Thorin, her voice calm but firm. “He’s just... protective. I’m his person. He doesn’t take kindly to anyone getting too close.”

Vander nodded, an amused yet understanding expression on his face. “I see. Maybe we need to work on that.”

“I think it’ll take some time,” Y/N replied, her hand still resting near Thorin’s head, but the dog wasn’t moving. His gaze never strayed from Vander, his muscles still taut with suspicion.

Vi, never one to let an opportunity for teasing slip by, grinned widely. "Maybe you should try to pet him, Vander. See if that gets you in his good books."

Y/N glanced over at Vi, her brow raised in playful reprimand. “Vi…”

His grin was wide now, clearly up for the challenge. Slowly, carefully, he took a few cautious steps forward, his eyes flicking from Thorin to Y/N. “Alright, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As soon as he moved again, Thorin barked sharply, the sound echoing off the walls of the room. Before Vander could take another step, the dog was up on his feet again, advancing with purpose, every muscle in his body primed for action. The kids, still watching the interaction, burst into laughter as Vander stopped dead in his tracks. He held his hands up in mock surrender, stepping back carefully.

"I think you’ll have to win over Thorin before you get a spot on the bed," Y/N teased, looking over her shoulder at Vander, her eyes twinkling with affectionate amusement.

Vander, however, wasn’t deterred. He chuckled, unbothered by the Doberman’s protective stance. "Looks like it," he grinned, though there was a slight hesitation in his step. “Alright, Thorin. I get it. I’ll wait my turn.”

The kids were still giggling, and Y/N patted the spot next to her with a teasing smile. "You can sit here... just be patient."

Vander didn’t seem to mind. He leaned back against the doorframe, sitting down on the edge of the room and letting the moments pass by. He was content to watch Y/N surrounded by the kids—each of them in their own little world as they joked, laughed, and basked in the warmth of each other’s company. Thorin, once again at the end of the bed, was calm now, though his vigilant eyes still remained trained on Vander, just in case he dared to get any closer.

Vander smiled softly, his heart swelling at the sight of this little family, each of them so full of life. Despite Thorin’s fierce protective instincts, this was a family he’d gladly protect with his life. And if that meant waiting for Thorin’s approval, he’d do so without hesitation. He knew, in time, he’d earn it.

SILCO

It was a quiet evening in the undercity, the kind of night that made the world feel a little smaller. The air was thick with the scent of wet stone, smoke, and the distant sounds of bustling crowds, but inside, the small room felt like a sanctuary from the chaos outside. Silco sat across from Y/N, the candlelight casting a flickering glow across his sharp features, making his eyes gleam with a soft intensity. His fingers idly traced the rim of his glass, the faint clink of ice against glass the only sound accompanying the low hum of conversations in the background. The rest of the world seemed distant, blurred around the edges. All that mattered was the woman sitting in front of him.

Pippin, Y/N's tiny, scruffy dog, was curled up in her lap. The small, wiry-bodied terrier, a Cairn Terrier, was blissfully unaware of the growing tension between Silco and himself. His fur was a bit unkempt, a perfect reflection of his spunky personality. He fit the part of a tough little protector despite his small size, and Silco had already come to understand that very well. Pippin's small but confident stature allowed him to hold his ground like a much larger dog, especially when it came to his beloved owner.

Silco leaned forward slightly, his smirk playing at the corners of his lips, eyes never leaving Y/N's. The flickering candlelight illuminated the curves of her face, her lips almost within reach, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander. "You know," he began softly, his voice lower than usual, almost intimate, "I think I’ve grown quite fond of you."

The words hung in the air between them, and he felt a strange satisfaction at the softness in her gaze. But before Y/N could respond, Pippin’s tiny ears perked up. His bright eyes locked onto Silco with an almost uncanny precision, and the protective streak he had for Y/N flared to life.

The dog’s growl rumbled through the room, low and menacing, and he shifted his position, curling tighter around Y/N, as if to shield her. The small creature's body was tense, his stance firm. Silco paused, his eyebrow raised in amusement. "Is that a warning?" he asked, the faintest chuckle escaping his lips as he regarded the dog with a mixture of mock challenge and respect.

Y/N sighed, brushing her hand through Pippin’s fur, trying to calm him down, though it was clear that Pippin’s distrust wasn’t easily quelled. "He’s just... protective," she murmured, her voice apologetic but soft, as if trying to pacify both Silco and the dog at once.

Unfazed, Silco took a step closer, his eyes softening as he reached out, his intention clear. He was hoping to steal a quick, tender peck on Y/N’s cheek, a silent declaration of his affection, but just as he leaned in, Pippin bared his tiny teeth, his growl growing louder, more insistent. The dog, despite his size, seemed absolutely determined to protect Y/N from any threat, no matter how harmless.

Silco halted immediately, his gaze flicking from Y/N to Pippin, and then back again. He couldn’t help but let a smirk slip onto his lips. "Really?" he mused, his voice a quiet, amused drawl. "I’ve been here longer than this little tyrant, you know. I think he knows who’s really in charge."

Y/N couldn’t suppress a laugh, though she quickly bit her lip to hide it, glancing down at Pippin. "He doesn’t seem to care."

Silco leaned back slightly, but his smirk remained. "I was here first," he teased, his eyes glinting with a playful challenge as he looked at Pippin. "He’ll come around. Eventually."

Pippin’s growl softened a little, but the little dog didn’t take his eyes off Silco. He seemed content to remain in his defensive position, as though daring Silco to try and prove his point. Silco shook his head in mock resignation before taking another step closer, this time with deliberate care. He leaned in again, but this time, he made sure to take his time. As his lips brushed against Y/N’s cheek, he murmured against her skin, his breath warm. "If anything," he whispered, his voice quiet but teasing, "I think he just wants to keep you all to himself."

Y/N felt her heart flutter, the warmth of his kiss lingering on her skin as she closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to simply enjoy the closeness. A soft smile curled at her lips. "That’s what I’m afraid of," she said with a gentle sigh, her eyes opening to meet his.

Pippin, finally seeming to relax, let out a soft, contented sigh of his own. He curled up once more in Y/N’s lap, his tiny body settling into a peaceful sleep, though his eyes still occasionally flicked toward Silco, ever watchful. Silco, too, relaxed, though he knew he had to earn his place in Y/N’s world. Even if that meant working through the small, overprotective terrier who now claimed a part of her heart.

"Don't worry," Silco whispered, his voice low and sincere as he gazed at Y/N. "I’ll find a way to win him over."

Y/N smiled at him, her fingers running gently through Pippin's fur once more. "You’re gonna need a lot of patience."

Silco chuckled darkly, the sound rich with amusement. "Patience has never been a problem of mine," he murmured, settling back into his chair. "But this little one..." His eyes flicked to Pippin, still curled up peacefully in Y/N's lap. "He's going to be an interesting challenge."

MEL

It was a quiet evening in Piltover, the moon casting soft shadows over the city, and Mel found herself sitting with Y/N in the warmth of her living room. There was a sense of newness in the air between them—an unspoken promise, a blossoming relationship that neither had fully acknowledged yet, but both could feel.

As Y/N relaxed on the couch, Mel couldn't resist the urge to close the distance between them, her gaze softening. She reached out, her fingers brushing Y/N's hand as she took a seat beside her, her movements slow, deliberate.

Before Mel could even attempt to lean in for a kiss, a deep, rumbling growl echoed from across the room.

Mel froze, eyes narrowing at the massive figure that had appeared at her side. A large Rottweiler stood there, its fur bristling, teeth bared in a low snarl. It was staring directly at her, unwavering, as though it had just been waiting for any sign of threat.

Y/N sighed, a hand instinctively reaching out to calm the dog. "And here we go again," she muttered under her breath.

Mel's lips curled into a smirk, undeterred. "Is this how he greets all your visitors?"

"Only those he’s suspicious of," Y/N replied, giving her dog an amused yet tired look. "His name's Diesel. And he’s... overly protective."

"Diesel, huh?" Mel asked, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I think I can handle him."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

Without waiting for a response, Mel met Diesel’s gaze with a steady, intense stare, trying to assert her own dominance, just as she would in any other tense situation. The Rottweiler’s eyes flickered for a moment, but it didn’t back down. Instead, it took a step forward, letting out a sharper growl.

Mel’s lips quirked upwards, a challenge in her eyes. She refused to look away, determined to assert her place beside Y/N.

Diesel’s growl deepened, and then, suddenly, he lunged forward. Mel didn’t flinch; instead, she raised her hand with a commanding motion, as though to say, stay. Diesel paused mid-charge, eyes locked on hers, before he finally stopped, albeit still tense, his teeth visible in the dim light.

Y/N watched, a mixture of surprise and amusement on her face. "Okay, you might actually be able to handle him."

Mel smirked, her victory sweet, but as she turned back to Y/N, she could see the slight shift in Diesel’s posture, and she knew he was still watching. "So... what’s the deal with him? He doesn’t trust me?"

Y/N leaned back, rubbing Diesel’s fur absently, though her attention was on Mel. "He's just... protective. He’s been with me through everything, and he’s not a fan of anyone getting close. Especially someone he doesn't know well."

Mel chuckled, but there was a hint of determination in her voice. "I’ll win him over. I’m not backing down that easily."

As if to punctuate the challenge, Diesel growled again, this time closer to Mel, but Y/N quickly intervened, giving her dog a firm look. "Diesel, enough. Mel’s not going anywhere."

Mel smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Maybe it’s not just Diesel you need to convince."

Y/N met her gaze, eyes softening as she realized what Mel meant. The playful tension in the air shifted into something deeper, more intimate, as Mel moved a fraction of an inch closer.

Before Mel could close the gap, Diesel was back again, his deep voice rumbling in the quiet room, warning her with another low growl. But this time, Mel didn’t back down. She kept her gaze locked with Y/N’s, her presence commanding, making it clear that no matter what Diesel thought, she wasn’t going anywhere.

Y/N finally laughed softly, the tension breaking. "Looks like it’s just the two of you against me," she teased.

Mel’s smirk turned into something more tender, and she leaned in just enough to brush her lips against Y/N’s cheek. "Just the three of us," she whispered, and this time, Diesel didn’t growl—though he did eye Mel suspiciously, as if still trying to figure out if she was a threat.

For now, Y/N could only shake her head, the connection between them undeniable. Even if Diesel was a stubborn protector, Y/N had a feeling Mel wouldn’t be so easily deterred. And, for her part, she was starting to like that about Mel.

[meltedhorror]

I always hoped we'd rot together, that the day the earth reclaimed my bones it'd be by the side of you. . . Maybe if I close my eyes and believe enough, it'll come true eventually. . .

[mugzymiik]

[keeps-ache]

souP..

[hsslilly-blog]

claire does not wear flat shoes. she's always in heels

[bahablastplz]

SKZ Recs (NSFW)

As a chronic fanfic reader, I have a lot of recommendations. So, these are the ones I think about the most. All of them include smut, so they're 18+. Red text indicates fics on AO3. Go support these amazing authors!! Enjoy!! <3

Bang Chan 

The SKZ house @writeonwhiskey (Chan x reader x Hyunjin…SKZ but make it a frat… and also sexy) 

Silent cry @j-0ne25 (Fake dating/friends to lovers, live laugh hurt comfort… emphasis on the hurt) 

Love is intuitive @skzonthebrain (forbidden love and angst… so emotional and loving <3) 

Kinktober Day 8 @dreaming-medium (breeding, best friend, fake dating, so sweet and spicy) 

Summer in Seoul @writeonwhiskey (strangers to lovers, summer love, spicy and romantic) 

Saturday mornings @skzdarlings (Chan/reader/Seungmin where Seungmin is an absolute menace that gets reader in trouble… dom Chan is so good in this one omg) 

It’s cold out @therhythmafterthesummer (roommate Chan is going through his rut… oops there’s more ABO on this list than I realized sorry not sorry) 

Bodyguard: The first guard @skzdarlings (A sequel to the bodyguard, an ongoing work that has elements of enemies to lovers and great, in-depth world building and character development)

However you want it, lover-lover @cbini (you ask your bf Chan to step on you after watching spicy edits of him on tiktok omg)

More than just friends @kwanisms (roommate Chan is entering his rut... he's usually able to control himself but this time you're ovulating. sprinkle some brat taming in here as well and it's so delicious)

Lee Know 

The Experience Project @leeknowsallyoursecrets (Enemies to lovers Lee Know, really good plot and relationship building!) 

Sanguis Limerence @jl-micasea-fics (Vampire OT8, Lee Know x Reader x Chan, SUPER good world building, especially in their sequel with the backstories… I was so invested. And it’s super hot)

Barb Wired Brat @roseykat (BDSM Lee Know with reader going into subspace… awakened things in me) 

Audience @gimmeurtmi (2 min, wet dreams, exhibitionism, degradation… yeah) 

Well Shit @2chopsticks2eyes (Brother’s best friend, inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers and fwb… literally so good) 

Sea May Rise, Sky May Fall @skzms (Lee Know x Reader x Han, complete series, Pirate AU with beautiful world building, in-depth characters and GREAT smut. One of my all time favs)

rsvp @cbini (teasing dom vampire boyfriend Minho and you get the punishment you deserve... brat taming and so so so sexy like it's insane)

Changbin 

 The accidental acquisition of sugar @skzdarlings (accidental sugar daddy Changbin x reader that’s absolutely hilarious with great smut) 

Valentine’s series ‘do you really think you’re in a position to give orders’) @skzdarlings (forbidden love/romeo & juliet style but with gun play… um this was so hot tho) 

Close your eyes (...And count to seven) @MysteryBird (Possessive gang leader bf! Changbin that you’re trying to piss off by sleeping with the other members… 100k+ words and so delicious) 

Hyunjin 

Praise kink Hyunjin @dreaming-medium (A kinktober fic, enemies to lovers detective Hyunjin… absolutely delicious) 

Snowed In @moonjxsung (really artistic, heartfelt, and beautifully written)  

Jury’s still out @straywrds (rivals to hooking up/hate sex… super spicy and hot) 

Dressing down @jl-micasea-fics (shopping trip with best friend Hyunjin turns out spicy ahh the chemistry) 

Four of wands @straywrds (beautifully crafted story I was so immersed in!! witch Hyunjin and sex magick, the characters have so much depth! crazy tension)

Han 

Watch your six  @dreaming-medium (sensory deprivation kinktober ah this is engraved in my brain) 

The same but different @skzdarlings (ahh hanlix fairy au where they’re linked with great world building and is so funny… I maybeee think about this every day) 

Sea May Rise, Sky May Fall @skzms (Lee Know x Reader x Han, complete series, Pirate AU with beautiful world building, in-depth characters and GREAT smut. One of my all time favs)

Screen Identity: Mismatched Passion (SIMP) @leeknowsallyoursecrets (Spin-off series to the experience project! Jisung x reader enemies/academic rivals to lovers in which they’re both anonomously sexting each other on discord without knowing who’s on the other end of the screen!!! top tier level tension)

Felix 

The bodyguard @skzdarlings (Forced proximity, enemies to lovers, had me SUPER invested and made me cry) 

The same but different @skzdarlings (ahh hanlix fairy au where they’re linked with great world building and is so funny… I maybee think about this every day) 

Snap out of it @2baabbies (Felix gives you the option to either go home with your shitty boyfriend or go home with him at the end of the night ahhh!!) 

Seungmin 

Bet on it @skzonthebrain (Academic rivals, enemies to lovers and such good tension/chemistry) 

Audience @gimmeurtmi (2 min, wet dreams, exhibitionism, degradation… yeah) 

Saturday mornings @skzdarlings (Chan/reader/Seungmin where Seungmin is an absolute menace that gets reader in trouble… dom Chan is so good in this one omg) 

Seungmin + hairpulling @straykeedz (kinktober fic, best friend Seungmin finds out you have a thing for hairpulling and can't get you out of his head... this is taken straight from the deepest depths of my fantasies i s2g)

no nut november @gimmeurtmi (this whole nnn series is fantastic but seeing Seungmin lose his composure because of his breeding kink does something for me)

august is a fever @seungminheart (mean dom Seungmin... you don't think he is really into you so you see how far you can push him/I love mean dom Seungmin and I think this fic does it just right)

I.N. 

Lavender boy @hyunsvngs (A/B/O Alpha jeongin… super sexy and great dynamics) 

Clueless @jeongin-lvr (inexperienced big dick I.N. that just wants to make reader feel good… also omg he’s so hot in this pls) 

Better and better @seungminheart (sharing a bed, best friend Jeongin, amazing banter, soft dom Jeongin, brat taming, every trope from my hopes and dreams)

Third leg? @beesspacedotorg (huge dick alpha Innie... some brat taming, great banter and dynamics and sexy)

OT8 

Sharing a bed series @skzdarlings (Best trope ever and they really do it justice) (Chan's is linked but you should read all 8)

Sharing is caring @skzms (Minsung x reader x OT8… really well written spice) 

Fake texts @thefantasyden (I swear these are like crack I read them every single time) 

Kinktober23 @roseykat (one of the first SKZ blogs that I started reading that really brought me deep into the fandom… My fav from this is Table Manners and Bible Studies, and it has a part 2)

All Bark no Bite @doitforbangchan (Main pairing is Chan x Reader with some OT8, it's an ABO au with some really good spice)

Masterlist mxm recs

[bbluefllame]

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 .ᐟ

synopsis: college au texts (& small hcs) with the girls + tropes<3

characters: jinx, vi, caitlyn, sevika

notes: SHE'S BACKKKKK!!! sorry for being gone for so long #igotintoleagueoflegends(thegame.), regular posting will be back !! other than that, sevikas part was my fave bless.

vi. + fake dating (also biker! vi)

- how this whole fake dating thing started was through a hook up actually!!

- both of you got shitfaced & you two were already friends, so after vi saw Maddie with caitlyn she was like "nah fuck it I'm gonna get her back!!" (classic, sigh.)

- this is random, but she's actually a really good cook (in my head) and she's probably made some fire meals 4 you

- for some reason.. she gives me xxxtentacion listener like she loves "I don't even speak Spanish lol" in this au but when she's emo over cait, bring out the sad! and shit like that 😭

- her ass would be on the ground staring at the ceiling, sad! blasting, and her roommate would be like SHUT THAT SHIT DOWN!!!!!

- avid marvel rivals player, loves luna snow no questions.

- don't ask why she texts like that she js does 😔

- she goes "this is for you" before scoring in a game and trips while running and falls on her face instead😭

- she is nawt NAWT!! a womanizer(?) fuckgirl(is that the female equivalent?????) idgaf what ppl say, sure she flirts occasionally but she's super loyal if she's in a rs, she's an awesome gf !!! we love vi in this household!!!!

jinx. + childhood bsfs 2 lovers

- matching pfps & bios on tiktok and insta I'm telling u. it'd be smth like "sniper, sniper, sniper" then "wifey, wifey, wifey"

- random hc cs yay, vi probably accidentally killed her pet hamster when they were kids and you had to comfort her cs her ass was crying for HOURRSSSS. there was a funeral for it with a tiny casket. (it died cs of the microwave beeping when vi's instant noodles were done)

- one of those ppl who gets high grades without trying, don't ask her grade unless you wanna feel hurt cs she js says "98" while being hungover.

- her music taste is so all over the place but I'm so certain she sticks to loud music!! she gets sleepy if it's calm😭

- engineering major no doubt abt it

- doesn't know how to cook but not cs she can't, it's bcs she doesn't want to

- she probably asked you out in a cutesy way like imagine after ur bday you're watching the stars tg and she's like staring at you w hearts in her eyes and she js says "I love you" and you're like "awww I love you too!!" cs ur bsfs, but she then repeats it "no like I LOVE you" and ur like woah.. then u start to makeout or whatever w stars in the bg, end scene!!

- genuinely the best gift giver ever, everything's homemade and made w love 🙏🙏 i lauv her sm😔😔

caitlyn. + academic rivals (+ forced proximity)

first pic isn't rlly connected to the rest, js to show their rs

- after the project you two actually got alot closer, you could even say FRIENDS 🤯, there is still competition but it isn't like as bad as before, it's more so "Haha, I got higher." "wtvvv 🙄 I'll buy u ice cream 😔"

- sevika was the prof btw, she wanted to fuck with u guys 🙏

- archer cait. that's all I gotta say. (also equestrian u can't tell me other wise)

- HEAR ME OUT! imagine she invites you to her archery training & during it ur like, "Can I try?" she says alright and then when you're holding the bow she goes behind you and starts fixing how ur holding it, then she wraps a hand around ur waist and brushes it off as "oh your posture was incorrect" when she lets go.

- moving on, I imagine her having a doll collection like don't ask why but she collects monster high dolls. (please ask her about every single doll, she'll proudly infodump)

- when u get closer to her she's alot less formal, its very cutie of her !!!

- has a fitness tiktok account and she drinks apple cider vinegar daily (NASTYYYY IDGAF IF ITS HEALTHY!!!!).

- modern au cait is like a cat in my head, idk she's js so cutie in it please give her love that's it😔

sevika. + grumpy x sunshine (professor! sevika)

- her students try to tease her when she smiles at your notes, she shuts them down so fast it's scary. her expression goes from 😊 to 🤨, then they stfu and go to their seat.

- only person who teases her and gets away with it is jinx I fear.

- you and sevika have a nightly routine of dancing together (she's so soft w u don't play w me.) her fave song to play is love by Keyshia Cole (ARGUFJWHFIWJ 😭😭😭😭😭)

- regular gym goer, she has an insta she barely posts on besides the occasional video of her hitting a new record while her students comment "omg MISS SEVIKA!!!!!" then she blocks them when she sees the notif.

- doesn't trust anyone to cut her hair besides you cs apparently you js do it better, her words, not mine! 🤷‍♀️

- one of those, mean to everyone besides you, types (minus isha and jinx cs those r FAM!)

- loves reading idk I js get that vibe from her, after a long day, she opens her kindle (that she got from you as a bday gift) and relaxes.

- first time her students saw you, they glanced at both of you like a million times before it registered you were together, cs how'd she end up with such a sweet cutie!!

- they ask her a billion questions and she's like "I don't talk about my personal life, end of story."

- she's trying to quit smoking for u trust 😞 it's js hard but she's getting there!!

- she loves u so dearly please never let go of her.😔😔

sevikas part was too long I'm sorry 😭 ...there were gonna be a couple NSFW hcs for her but 5 minutes after I wrote them I got food poisoning so I was like "I'll die if I post them."😔😔 anws hope u liked these

[adieutristana]

Well, reader and Jinx matching rings (maybe even wedding rings), and when Caitlin shoots Jinx's finger, she destroys this ring. Jinx’s honest reaction?

of course! thank you for the request <3

i decided to make them promise rings since she lost her middle finger. i hope that’s alright!

summary; jinx’s promise ring being destroyed, and fem!reader comforting her after the fact.

characters included; jinx

tags/warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of war/combat, mentions of poor mental health, medical talk ig? (patching up), s2 spoilers

men dni.

you’re sat in jinx’s hideout watching her tinker away with… something. a new type of explosive she’s experimenting with, she says. something that only requires one hexcrystal instead of two or three, since she can’t keep using so many. she’s unceremoniously hunched over the workbench, goggles over her eyes as she messes with the piece of scrap metal in her hand.

“having fun?”

you ask, sitting back in the chair she got you.

“mm… this is more difficult than i thought it would be. who knew this could be so challenging? but i like a challenge.”

she smirks to herself, not taking her eyes off of her project.

“well, you’ve never let ‘difficult’ stop you. you’re a right genius.”

“oh, stop. you’re biased!”

she teases, but she’s got the lightest rouge dusting her cheeks. got her. your gaze continues to follow your girlfriend, the way she moves so freely and carelessly. getting her face impossibly close to power tools, using her nails to clean up dirt, teeth capturing her bottom lip when she’s particularly stumped.

“alright! that’s enough for right now.”

she proclaims, standing up and placing her hands on her hips.

“already?” it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes since you asked her how she was doing.

“yeah! besides, i’ve got something for ‘ya.”

jinx springs up from her seat and skitters over to yours, quickly turning it around. you hear cheerful humming from behind you as she shuffles through piles of belongings, clearly looking for something.

"a-ha!"

she spins you back around, both hands on your seat and quickly rises. she's got something clasped in her left hand, but won't reveal it, not yet.

"what's that?"

"you have to be patient, toots! i've got a speech prepared, don't distract me!"

a speech? jinx never gave speeches. was she breaking up with you? so many thoughts began swirling through your mind as your palms began to sweat, gripping the chair- and then jinx revealed what she was hiding. a wooden box. a... ring box?

"isn't it a little soon to be getting engaged, jinx?"

you chuckle dryly, looking up at your girlfriend. she playfully rolls her eyes, and shakes her head, blue bang swaying.

"yes it is, that's why we're not getting engaged."

she clears her throat.

"not yet."

she turns her attention back to the box, and she opens it. inside lays a thick silver ring, with a circular blue gem in the middle. it looked eerily similar to a hexcrystal- but carved into a gemstone. 'JINX' is shakily engraved on the inside, something she undoubtedly did herself.

"this is a promise ring. i've been working on it for a while, and well... it's kind of stupid." she looks off to the side, sheepishly. "but this is me promising myself to you. to show you that i'm serious about this, ya know?"

you look over the ring for a moment, taking it in for all that it is. it's obviously unprofessional, the metal is a bit dull, and the shape isn't precise. but god dammit if it isn't the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. you glance back to your girlfriend, noticing her observing you- likely for any signs of disapproval. poor girl. as much as jinx had improved since meeting you, she still had the habit of expecting the worst. you didn't think that part would ever go away.

"jinx, it's beautiful. i- you made this?"

you ask, your eyes flickering back to the ring she's holding out. noticing how her grip is becoming a bit less stable.

"with my own two hands."

you chuckle, giving her a little grin.

"well? come on, put it on."

jinx doesn't need to be told twice. she gently takes hold of your left hand, removing the ring from the box and slowly slipping it onto your finger.

"there! it's on your middle finger, so your ring finger is open for the real thing."

not an ‘i do,’ but an ‘i will.’

you hold your hand up to the light, admiring how the ring catches it, before leaning forward to press a flurry of kisses to jinx's face.

"ah- hey! stop, you goof!"

she laughs, arms coming to wrap around you as a fit of giggles erupts from her.

"nope! i get to do this!"

it's not a week later when you arrive to jinx's hideout with a promise ring of your own to give her. a thick gold band to contrast the silver jinx had given you, with a rose quartz to accompany your own hexcrystal. pink and blue… she had a theme going, didn't she?

it wasn't handmade, but held the same sentimental value. you weren't as handy as jinx, and you'd learned to accept that a while ago. you had strengths in other areas, one of them being finding perfect gifts. it didn't take you long to find a jeweler in piltover who had exactly what you needed.

"oh, my god- you didn't have to do this."

she gasps, rosy eyes blown wide. both hands are on her cheeks as jinx gently approaches the open box in your hand.

"you promised yourself to me, didn't you? this is my promise to you."

jinx lets you put the ring onto her own left middle finger, her eyes never leaving your face. watching you so intently, she can feel her heart fluttering in her chest. what did she do to deserve you exactly? she could never quite figure it out, but that doesn't matter right now. you glance back up at her, a little smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"i… you're too good to me, toots. really."

"i am not. i love you, remember?"

"mm… i love you too. i still think you're too good to me, though."

you let out a low chuckle.

"c'mere."

you bring the girl into your arms, tilting her chin with your index finger to gently bring her closer to you. pressing your lips to hers in a slow, gentle kiss.

oh- and of course, your name is engraved on the inside of the ring.

✧.*

you're posted at your girlfriend's hideout, going over notes in preparation for an exam. it's nerve wracking, sure, but the odd tranquility of jinx's desk is useful in its own way.

jinx swings open the door to the hideout, and as soon as she steps onto the panel of the wind turbine supporting her hideout, you can tell she's in hysterics.

the girl is wailing. she's pacing back and forth, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. but most importantly, her hand is gushing blood. you immediately drop your notes, papers scattering across the desk to rush over to your girlfriend.

"jinx? jinx?! what the hell happened, oh my god..."

you kneel down in front of jinx, taking her hand to examine it. her middle left finger is completely gone, blood rushing out from the wound. it seems to be a clean cut, at least, you won't have to deal with any extra bits to clean up.

"the ring, the ring, it's gone-"

she sobs, a hiccup following and her free hand clenching into a fist at her side. you gasp, looking up at jinx, then back down at her finger.

"jinx, seriously? you just lost your finger and you're worried about a damn ring?!"

you breathe out, exasperation and worry weighing heavy on your voice.

"the ring is important! it's- it's our promise!"

she cries, hanging her head low. jinx is so ashamed, it hurts your heart to see. you let go of her hand and frantically sweep along her workbench for anything. you knew you had a first aid kit somewhere, you'd gotten it after seeing jinx patch herself up in a way that would make any doctor shiver. but god damn it, where was it?

there.

you quickly swipe the kit and a bottle of peroxide from her workbench, rushing back over to jinx. you take one of her wrists and quickly guide her over to her beaten-up couch.

"sit."

"but-"

"sit."

jinx huffs and sits down on the couch, you sitting down beside her. you open the kit and bottle, pouring peroxide onto a cotton square and taking her hand into your lap.

"this is going to sting. a lot."

jinx winces at just the thought, but nods slowly. keeping her eyes on what you're doing-

"agh- fuck!"

she yelps, tossing her head back as you press the square to the wound, holding it there to both disinfect and stop the bleeding.

"i'm sorry, baby, it'll be over soon. i just need to stop the bleeding."

you coo, trying to do anything in your power to calm her down. yet it's obvious the injury itself isn't what she's upset about.

"that- that fucker vi is with shot it off, she shot the ring off..."

jinx seethes through gritted teeth, trying to keep her composure as you hold the peroxide to her wound. ah.. that makes sense. caitlyn was never fond of jinx, especially after the stunt she pulled with the council room. part of you was simply grateful that she didn't just take jinx out, as much as you knew she was probably trying to.

jinx was always putting herself in so much danger, both for the sake of necessity and the fact her ego was just so damn inflated. she said it herself- she just can't seem to die. but she got impossibly close way more than you would've liked her to.

you take out a roll of gauze and begin to wrap it around her hand, the wound being in the center of it all. it's far from professional, but this will have to do until you can get her proper medical attention. which you were trying to avoid talking about, since jinx was the last person to ever admit she needed help.

"jinx, i'm just happy that you're alive. i don't care about the ring right now. what if she had shot you somewhere more... vital?"

"then i would've gotten to keep the ring."

god damn it. she could not be serious right now. you finish wrapping her hand, bleeding having come to a halt and wound disinfected. you'd grab some painkillers in a moment. you quickly take both of her cheeks in your hands, forcing her to look you directly in the eye. the cold metal of your own ring against soft skin.

"jinx. again, i'm happy that you're here, and you're alive, and losing your finger was the worst thing that happened. i will get you a new ring, first thing tomorrow. okay?"

she sighs, her lips coming into a slight pout. at the very least, she's not crying anymore.

"but..."

you press your index finger to her lips, shushing her.

"no. just because you don't have the ring anymore doesn't mean the promise went out the window, okay?" you whisper, brushing your lips against her forehead. "i still love you, and still have promised myself to you. that won't change.

jinx closes her eyes, and leans into your kiss. she seems to have finally resigned, and is snaking her arms around your waist.

"i just- i love you so much..."

"i know, baby. i love you too, which is why i'll get you a new ring. a better one, even."

your hand still cupping her face, you lean in to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

"just stay here, with me. you've had a hell of a day."

[vyainide]

ㅤㅤㅤgratefulness (i'm sorry, can this be over now?)ㅤ౨ৎㅤ12.9k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

oneㅤ/ㅤtwo synopsis. luffy loves you— you know this with how abundantly clear love is in every ministration of his outstretched hand and a grin— yet your traitorous heart demands more, even though you're in no place to give him your loyalty. you know this so you do not demand his love nor to be saved, even when met with a relentlessly stretched hand.

warning(s). gn! reader, hanahaki disease, but some creatively liberated variation of it, angst, hurt/some comfort, slow burn, but does it really count if nothing happens?, unrequited love, pining and the works, background character death, blood, violent imagery, vague allusion to an unspecified mental disorder that involves eating habits (pls be careful!!!), luffy tries his best to be kind but it's cruel, reader spirals 🙏; minimal editing and proofreading (these are basically my thoughts raw and unadulterated)

from vyon. the card game they play is a vietnamese one also known as smth like thirteen in english and has too many rules to explain but it doesn't really matter :3 i was a beast at that game though i fear; this fanfic has been in my drafts for so long, it also grew into too big of a project than it was meant to be. i also had to split this up into two parts, it was getting too long, i'm sorry ＞︿＜

do not repost / copy / translate.

Once you know Monkey D. Luffy, you'll know his heart not a few minutes after. He's welded the unmoving, burning ingot to his bicep, always on display due to his amassing collection of armless vests; rubber skin melted around the golden gem, oozing past the lines of his beating heart to staple it there, an anomaly on the expanse of skin not otherwise susceptible to bullets or cannons. Your captain is a man that lives with his heart on his tongue, always ready to dictate the lay of your next move with an irregular beat that drums against the skinned men of war and an impulsivity that makes his crew scramble after him exasperatedly; oxygen taken from his cerebral arteries to his brain are stained in the grease and oil that stick to the meat he handles so carelessly. In the same endearing way, he's careless with his heart, allows for the small stuff to momentarily prick his heart, for judgement to cloud into anger before it picks up on the bitter taste of agony.

It's always easy to get a frown onto Luffy's face. Feign disinterest in his stories; make yourself too busy to help him look for strange insects; force him to shower, scold him after he does something he wasn't meant to; keep him away from something he seems interested in; starve him for more than five minutes— he makes it all exceptionally too easy. You're not audacious enough to claim to know Luffy any more than the Strawhats, especially not those that he had met in East Blue; you try not to let it bother you that they managed to meet a younger Luffy who had so many holes in his defence, whose smile threatened through skin more, who had yet to find scars in his palm from how hard he had to clench his fists.

To you, it seems unfair that Luffy had managed to uncover so many of your firsts. His unwavering presence by your side as you learnt how hard it was to live on sea, the intonations of your screaming when a marine canon was pointed at you, to live so freely away from the confines of restrictive justice, how it felt to have a hand in yours to promise forever and then some. Luffy has no preferential treatment when it comes to people he loves; he treats them all the same, no hierarchy could dream to disrupt that.

With the same sandals he uses to stomp on the faces of Marine's, he could demand food from Sanji, money from Nami, Zoro to play with him— instead, you watch him whine Sanji, food and dissolve into a puddle when his cook orders him to wait, he allows Nami's fists to fall onto his head when he makes any financially impulsive decision (or even thinks them), and he idles himself with drawing on Zoro's face with Usopp and Chopper, with the previous two of them taking the psychical brunt of their consequences. (Chopper is let off with a mere promise that he won't join in with their shenanigans again when it involves making Zoro into a fool and a growing bump underneath his hat.)

Luffy, from second to fourth gear, is tender aggression when it is love.

His form is bizarrely respectful when the door opens and light dawns upon your face; you see him through the gaps of Nami and Sanji's legs and towering forms over him, his hands on his thighs and feet tucked underneath his bottom. He slurs out an I'm sorry that lets you know that his face is definitely messed up and then follows up with an I was hungry though!

Then Nami messes him up some more for his shitty justification.

She leaves him— some caricature of her anger— on the floor with her hands on her hips and Sanji trailing after her with hearts in his eyes at her dominant display of power. As she passes Brook, he asks for the colour of her underwear and earns himself the same treatment. It's then that you laugh. Luffy snapped his head up, following after the trembling air of your laughter and then calls out your name, the syllables are all messy around his swollen cheeks and a missing tooth that will come back after a few minutes but you cannot rid yourself of the thought that it's sticky with love that you only remember hearing when you were just a babe, screaming and crying in the arms of a tired and ill mother in a hospital. You were introduced to a group of midwives with same love you hear now, their idle finger catching into both your small hands; Luffy's hand dances across the air, breaking apart your laugh with urgency and catching onto your wrist.

You're not sure if it's you who had been pulled to him or if he'd managed to catapult himself into you but you both end up a mess on the floor regardless. Limbs tangled around each other in a wave as you both fall to the deck, Luffy does not correct the length of his arm and takes to wrapping the limb around you like a vine snaked around the trunk of a tree. You don't know a start nor an end as Luffy nuzzles his beat–up face on your shoulder. "Hey captain," you raise your head to look down on him, trying to wrench a hand through the tight spirals he's coiled around you.

"I'm hungry," he whines in lieu of a response, "and I'm bored, Usopp kicked me out after I ate one of his ketchup stars." He doesn't relent with his hold on you, simply loosening the coil that you're trying to work your hand through before tightening again once your arm makes it past to trap it against your side. You don't question the fact that Usopp's ketchup stars may be laced with gunpowder or what the small dose of gunpowder may have done to Luffy's internal organs.

You guess even Usopp has his limits when it comes to his childish captain. "I can't do a lot about either of those things if you're keeping me hostage here." He looks up at you, his exaggeratedly large lips in a pout that matches the swelling of his cheeks and then says your name again, like you’ve done him wrong. It's a disordered collection of the letters again but you find you can't really do anything to fight against it. Instead, green tendrils sprout from your trapped arm, each vine wrapped in a light of leaves and strain against his extended limb before he gives in and, instead, laughs as he wraps his rubber arm around the spindly, twisted branches splitting open layers of skin on your bicep. His skin coloured against the green runner keeps the bine from wilting down to meet gravity.

You let Luffy do whatever he wants, with an expression that you're not sure you're too familiar with etched out on the lines of your face. Thinking back on it, you could've simply done as Nami had or Usopp, ignore or scold him enough into submission but his fingers catch one of the fronds and it curls between the meat of his fingertips, reaching out to tickle his palm and something soft blooms inside you. You know it must be you, not the work of your devil fruit, because as much as you've tried in your lacklustre pursuit of beauty, you've never been able to sprout any kind of flowers.

When Luffy finally lets you go, you find your way into the kitchen and give Sanji a smile. You apologise for interrupting him and tell him that you know that lunch had been served only an hour ago but, if he wasn't too busy, you were still a little peckish. Sanji shoots up immediately and asks you what you've got a taste for— you assure him any leftovers from lunch will do and he tells you, though this doesn't come as any surprise, that Luffy had worked his way through any grain of leftovers with a laugh. You laugh along with him and well, you seemed to be craving meat right now.

The plate he prepares seem to be more about quality rather than quantity, with sauce underneath the red meat drizzled across the white ceramic, a slab of meat already cut into bite sized pieces for you and a decorative herb stuck between the fatty slices but when the light oozes down into the stretch of meat, you don't think Luffy will complain too much.

You, of course, were right about that.

The shattering grin he greets you (the plate of meat, however small it seemed) with gives you the faint smell of sticky rain drenched in the light of the sun, and you almost give him your hand when he reaches out for the plate. Brook's guitar strums in the background and your heart shakes in time with his strings and Luffy's incessant chewing.

You've really no problems with Usopp asking you to help him with target practice, it's fairly common for you to help the crew with their unique fighting style— save Nami and Franky for fear of losing your life with their less than particular aimed area of damage— it's easy enough really. You don't even have to be mentally present for it; shaking through layers of flesh, vines grow across the deck of the Sunny and rise up straight to tower over Usopp as he fixes his goggles over his eyes. You keep a quarter of your mind instilled in every chloroplast that shivers across the skies so you can keep them moving but the other three quarters are focused on the card game you play with Robin, Chopper, and Franky.

You hear the snapping of elastic and your finger twitches against the back of playing cards as the particular vine shot to the left, glancing curiously at Chopper's hand across from you when he turned to Franky and accuses him of looking at his cards.

"It's not my fault!" Franky frowned, fixing his comedically small glasses to perch on his metal nose. "Your cards just happen to be in my view when I'm looking at the pile 'cause you're tiny!"

Chopper takes to this horribly (you reshape a vine that has fallen to one of Usopp's stones and keep it relentless across the wave of air) and he grows into the much less cute and broader, more human version of himself to hold his hand out of Franky's view. (Two vines snap together and they take the path to slice through air to where Usopp stands, you hear the cracking of wood as Usopp shouts at you, saying he only wanted to focus on offence. An apology is drawn out with the green arm in the air.)

"Ivy," your eyes flicker to Robin and she gestures to the pile of discarded where the two of spades had been placed on top. "It's your turn." You glance down at your hand, eyes flickering over the collection of 7's in your hand. 

"Bomb." (You feel a vine break apart into pieces, think about the fact that it's lucky you've no nerves attached to the tendrils, and keep the one down to give Usopp a little win.) Franky curses your name as Robin chuckles.

Chopper glances at the four 7's with a sense of wonderment that you're sure is too dramatic for the moment. "No wonder I had no sevens!" You give him a sly grin and watch Robin pass her turn, ignoring Franky's levelled glare behind his glasses.

In the end, Robin wins anyways, ridding herself of her hand with her final card being the two of hearts. The loss is taken bitterly by both you and Franky though you think Franky definitely takes it worse than you do as when he stands to sulk away, cards fall out of his speedos, and they leave a trail after him. Robin, in all her morbidity, laughs behind a hand as you and Chopper drop your jaws in disgust.

Chopper collects the cards, hesitating with the ones that had been on Franky until Robin points out that you've all played many rounds and there's a chance that all of them had shared the same fate. (Another vine shutters down to the floor, broken apart and particles flown across the deck.) The cards slowly fall to the floor as Chopper cries out in disgust. Shaking your head with some colourful amusement, you use the two vines fallen to pick up the cards and start shuffling them.

Responding to Chopper's call, Luffy shoots his way from Sunny's figurehead. "What're you guys doin'?" He falls graciously to where Franky had previously been sitting; his eyes are ever so impatient to glance over the cards being shuffled. "Oh," he says with great interest, "are you guys playing 'go fish'?" He leaned towards you— the cards in your possession, actually— and blinks at the shuffling. "Lemme in!"

"We weren't playing 'go fish', Luffy." The little doctor has since calmed down, taking a seat between Luffy and Robin and shaking his head. "We were playing—" he turns his head up to Robin, to which she supplies 'bài tiến lên' with the intricate accents and all, "that!"

A flash of thinking places itself on Luffy's face, crossing his arm and tapping the side of his sandals on the deck, then it's gone. "Let's just play 'go fish' then."

Chopper whines, saying that 'go fish' is boring and that Luffy always snatches more than one card from other people's hands, which is cheating, and that he doesn't want to play.

Luffy turns to you with a pout, eyebrows furrowed at the dip where his nose bridge starts and then straightened out towards the end. The two vines that had been expertly dodging all of Usopp's shots and taunting him by doing silly dances and twisting into words in the air both crumple down to the floor at the same time, they follow the curve of your spine as you double over, a breath stuttering in your throat. You hear Usopp call your name and the deck of cards slip out from the vines that had been shuffling this entire time, your hand wraps around your throat and you hack out a cough you've managed to choke on.

"Are you dying?" Chopper shoots up, frantic as you keep coughing and choking— both violent in temperament, and scampers around, shouting for a doctor.

Footsteps tap closer as a shadow forms over you, Usopp's hand patting your back ferociously comes after the sound of shoes stop.

The blur that came with tears invading your eyes gives you the confidence to look at Luffy again before you're calling Chopper to a stop. "I'm fine, just choked on air."

You don't mention how it felt like you were breathing through a cheesecloth, how your lungs feel so restricted with every inhale as you all compromise on 'chase the ace' and how easier it feels when Usopp pushes his way between you and Luffy, too intimidated to pick from Robin's hand; when you all finish up for dinner, Robin is looking at you in a way that makes you think she's caught onto how you've been struggling.

Dinner is a strange ordeal. It's characterised with its usual events: Luffy sneaking his hands into people's plates though his stands full, Usopp trying to hold his plate out of his way, Zoro tending to his glass bottle of beer, Sanji making some quip about Zoro's show of alcoholism, Nami getting increasingly annoyed by the noise around her, Brook's laughter, Zoro escalating the situation with Sanji, Chopper screaming when Luffy clears Usopp's plate and then goes for the doctor's, Robin watching the scene with the patience of a saint, Franky pretending he was better than the rest, Usopp exacting revenge on Luffy by swapping their plates. It all ends with Nami telling them all to shut up and Luffy taking one final chicken leg from Zoro's plate. You stare down at your plate and count the missing bits, Luffy hasn't really touched any of the potatoes or asparagus, so you finish them up.

Two chicken thighs sit in stark contrast to the plate, thinking about having them anywhere near your mouth makes you a little sick for some reason, the weight of them in your stomach, the taste of caramelised skins, crisped with wells of juice sat next to a tinge of burnt flesh; you push the plate over to Luffy and detest the way he can take the colour of well–done oranges between his teeth and not care about the juice dribbling down his chin.

Luffy says thanks with his mouth full of chicken; Nami glares at him and turns a more concerned face to you (that also makes you sick) and inquires about you not eating. You mumble out some excuse about not being hungry, not feeling well, having a little bit of a headache, feeling tired— something along those faux lines, you don't remember but you remember that you don't tell them the truth exactly. "Sorry Sanji," you fix into your shitty excuse after, running a hand through your hair, to make yourself feel better about the entire ordeal.

He offers to make you a more palatable porridge or soup instead.

You take a cigarette and a red apple, going to bed hungry and angry at some unknown thing that brews on the tip of your tongue.

The next island is of great interest to Luffy.

The entire crew knows that its history nor culture was not either reason behind his excitement, only the mere prospect of digging his sandals into new, uncharted land is why he's running around the deck, filling up the empty spaces with bubbling laughter. Sanji finishes up bentos for those that are leaving, taking unnecessary extra care with Nami’s, and wishing he had it in him to starve Zoro whilst Nami is giving everyone an allowance. You take two bentos, yours and Chopper's, and head out onto the deck. Luffy only seemed momentarily sad that you were going with the doctor but bounced back immediately after when the trees come closer enough to intimidate so you push down the offer to join him instead. Franky joins up with Usopp, Luffy'll run off alone regardless of who he ends up going with, Nami ends up going with Zoro (to Sanji's displeasure), and you and Chopper make plans to find a pharmacy and a library for Robin.

Being around Chopper is easy enough with this unsettling prick of poison that's forced minimal responses, curt words, a flurry of tiredness, a sickening chill through your days recently. The little doctor is a lot more mindful of changes in mood, it's not any imminent injury either so he doesn't press to know why. Out of guilt (for being a brooding asshole lately), you ask him about his rumble balls and all his different forms. He answers cheerily and you can only pick out every other word with a persistent headache as the smell in the air changes from salty skies and bloody fish to sweetened foods and something unfamiliarly clean.

It's a bright island. You hear a faint bell in the distance that is traced over with the sound of children and stall owners; Chopper's hooves rhythmically sound beside you on the pavement and you find yourself counting them in groups of four. "Ah, there." You pick up your head and turn to follow the direction of Chopper's eyes. A sign is hung on the side of the building, the library. "Robin wanted a book of North Blue diseases for some reason," Chopper mumbles to himself as you two push open the door.

It's a small bookstore, walls lined with books and the paths carved with more standalone bookcases. "North Blue diseases?" You repeat, confused, "do they have North Blue exclusive illnesses?"

Your question goes unanswered, though it looks like it opens a vault of new questions for Chopper. Books aren't of great interests to you, so you follow behind Chopper as he walks through each section and grab whichever book he tells you to bring down for him. On the way back, you tell Chopper to keep going and change your course in search of something you're not too sure of.

You stray away from the town centre and head deeper through the small alleys of the town, there's no destination in mind; without the urgency of a fights and with the domesticity of a small knit community, you wander adrift. There's a dampness in the air to the walk around a shadowed hide of the place that loosens up the tension below your ribs, many different eyes follow after your form as the heel of your shoes click against a null path; shadows ooze around the soles of your shoe and lacquer up between the carved maze of black rubber of your soles until you find your way into a dead end.

It's a little bit of a cliché to be met with a ragtag group of delinquents when you turn to go back. Your eyes trace over them. In the hand of the one closest to you sits your wanted poster.

Something blooms inside you again— it's a much more pleasant feeling than the unmoving sap of ire that's been invading lately. Each man before you is physically bigger, towering over you ominously and shadows eating you but they all have swords and guns in their hands and that's why they lose. You, to the detriment of all life around you, are a weapon in and of itself; you choke out the vitality from others and steal their nutrients. They strained against their confines as their skin blossoms through shades of blooms, you are not the merciful rubber of a human, so your constraints don't relent, they squeeze and squeeze until the bark splits apart, until blood is cut off at the source, until they wither, until you are full.

On the way back, you buy a gift for everyone with the money you hadn't used and when they take to it, all in their varying degrees of joy, you feel less bad about the dead end alley full of brothers and sons. You tell yourself, handing Zoro a gift of alcohol, if not them, then it'd have been you.

You end up staying anchored to the island for a week to your displeasure. The longer you're stuck there, the closer you are to exploding; you always keep an eye out on the log pose strapped to Nami's wrist like you could quicken the process if you stare enough. Usopp starts avoiding you out of fear you'll blow like a poorly constructed cannon, Zoro makes you train with him to see if it'll help blow off some steam, Sanji brings you iced drinks at a rate that keeps you dizzy but you always feed it to Luffy or redirect it to Chopper's or Usopp's office with a little note.

On the third day, you follow in Zoro's example and sprawl out on the deck to rest your tireless mind. You've always wondered how sleep was ever a possible option for him when the feet thundering across the deck came with obstructive vibrations, no doubt slapping any chance of sleep away from his mind, but you find that it's almost pleasant. Beats all from familiar loves translates through the groves of wooden planks and etch through the back of your spine, you feel a bone fall back into place after Nami's heels against the floor and the thunderous kick that lands where Zoro was standing manages to work its way up your head to ease a headache.

The sun burns cries into your eyes and the skies move fluidly, they don't ripple as clouds shrivel against a light blue you're unfamiliar with; even as you close your eyes, you continue to feel the burn of the sun. The slapping of weaved straw against a sticky, sweaty sole then the deck comes as you slip into sleep.

Dreams have never been so amicable enough to become a recurrent in your life; more often than not, you're shown memories all blended together into a mess that leaves you sick, the abhorrent now and the nostalgic then bleeding past their confines until you see your mother stood next to that deceitful Marine admiral, both with that same look in their face. You wake up with a start when a loud bang scours its way through a flurry images you're unfamiliar with and then your body escapes you. Your head weighs with the heaviness of the bodies dropped to the floor, arms cold as if dipped into the river Styx, bones locked in place with a restrictive pain, muscles burning, aware of every breath that shivers through your suddenly odd body.

"Owww," three Luffys blur around each other as you pushed a hand to the floor to straighten up, you try blinking away the other two, but they're glued to the captain reflecting in your eyes; he looks down at what he's tripped on and follows it back to you. Your hand is met with something curved in shape when you go to push yourself up and when you look down, you see vines underneath you. You realise then that a burst of them had grown beneath you, splitting through the lawn deck and uplifting some of the planks underneath the greenery and inching upwards towards the guard rails of the ship. They take the form of something you think you met in your most recent sleep.

Luffy has managed to crawl his way towards you in the time you spend wondering why your devil fruit had been acting up— in your sleep no less and he wraps a hand around your ankle to get your attention. "Hey, you're really cold." He pointed out, eyes flickering down to the flesh between his fingers and then trailing his fingers up your thigh as he shifts closer to you on his knees.

The touch makes you violent and tender. "Really?" You managed to puff out, giving too much air back to the world with how much you're panting, "I feel a little warm though."

Luffy hums, clapping his hand over your cheeks with gentleness he only shows to those he loves, and it feels wrong. You get an itch underneath your skin that urges you to move, move, move but you can only push Luffy away with a ferocity he'd never shown you as you tremble under the bursting of violent air hacking up your throat, your shoulders strain as you wrapped your arms around your stomach, trying to heave out something that wasn't there.

Luffy scrambles back immediately, not caring for you shoving him away, and soothes away the rattling of your core with his clammy hands on your arm. "Are you sick?"

No, you think as a retch comes up your mouth; maybe, you correct as the path is marked by drool slipping down your chin and tears streaking across your cheeks. You shake away Luffy again. He's less submissive this time, his legs open over yours to plant his knees by your thighs. You hear him call for Chopper and it's obvious he has something of a frown marked on his face; you keep burning beneath your skin, but Luffy keeps rubbing his palms over your arms like you're cold.

You realise what your vines had drawn underneath you when Chopper comes out, fretting over you as he takes Luffy's place close to you. A grave. The image makes you laugh as the reindeer instructs his captain to haul you up after you'd ignored his inquires on if you could walk; your arm bends around the shape of Luffy's shoulder and your laughter erratically convulses into a collection of coughs from the skin on skin high.

You forced into bed rest after Chopper does a preliminary round of tests on you and declares you've simply gone down with a cold. You take to the diagnosis apprehensively, though in Chopper's defence, how was he meant to accurately diagnose you if you don't tell him all your symptoms? Instead, you sit in his office and spend the minutes, all alone, trying to retch out the feeling of having a piece of hair down your throat; you claw at the blanket and keep hacking until you've got a blanket full of tears and spit. The feeling does not pass.

At lunch, you get a visit from Franky who comes by to complain that you've made unnecessary work for him. "—seriously, how did you manage that in your sleep? Were you having a nightmare?" He ranted, legs crossed and leaned back in the visitor chair in a way that pushes his skinny, hairy legs close to your face.

Scrunching up your face, you sit up. "It was the future." You rebut, in between all his fantastical stories of his nightmares and talking about how he'd never attack Sunny even if Chopper grew a mechanical, giant arm and overthrew Luffy to become their captain. "A future," you correct yourself before turning to Franky with eyes judgemental, "are you scared of Chopper?"

"You weren't there at Enies Lobby," he tells you, which serves as a cruel reminder of sorts. You think about all the scars you've seen littered on the crew's skin and wonder which ones they've collected while they were with Luffy and who knows of which. The faint, protruding marks underneath Nami's tattoo, the stitches around Zoro's ankles, the ones pulled across his chest; you wonder if Sanji's got one hidden underneath his bangs. "The future?" Franky repeats after a moment, "are you a prophet?"

"It's a working theory," you brush off instead. "Though I can see in my mind's eye that Luffy is currently eating all the food and you’ll be left to starve if you don't go back."

Franky scrambled up from the seat not a second after your words.

With him gone, you settle back onto the bed and wonder about too many things to recall.

Between the hours after lunch and before dinner, Luffy comes by. He settles himself on the bed and forces you up as well, the shifting causes another cough to burgeon in your throat and you turn your head the other way to spit it out in an uncontrolled group of four. "You're not feeling better?" He frowns.

You see now that he's holding two pieces of barbequed meat in his hand, he's got the bone in his palm as he holds it upright like a sword, juices from the flesh dripping down to his hand and the smell gives you a headache. "Do you want this?" You move your eyes to Luffy, he's got his eyebrows furrowed together and his lips straightened out in a line when you don't answer. "Both?" He looks over at you, then the meat, and then you. "You," he swallows, "you can have them," his knuckles turn red around the bone, "since you need energy and you're sick." You think he's trying to convince himself to give them up.

You reached out and watch Luffy's face turn sour as his expression squeezes altogether around a midpoint trapped in his nose; you retract your hand and watch his face relax and his body unwind, you think he's moved his hand back a little. You repeat it again a few more times until laughter comes up and dislodges the uncomfortable feel of hair set deep in your throat. "It's fine, Luffy, you can have 'em."

"Really?"

"Mhm, go for it."

He moans around a bite of meat, crying your name as he chews and says thank you. The feeling is back as soon as it left.

No one comes to visit after that. Chopper comes by before he heads off to bed to make sure you're all set for the night and tells you that he expects to be woken up if you feel any symptoms get worse. You agree to his conditions, though can barely make yourself seem like you were taking him seriously with his cute face scolding you, but it seemed to work well enough as he's gone after he leaves a cup of water by your side. Sleep lingers around the corner, shirking away from your twitching fingertips and restless eyes; you give up after a few minutes, thinking about Robin who'd been thrown on watch tonight.

After going back and forth on the details, you bundle up yourself in the blanket (not wanting to have to mimic any semblance of serious guilt to get through Chopper's less than intimidating scolding if you get any sicker in the morning) and wander to the deck. The darkness of the sea would be safe for you, twisting around every limb extended to grope your way through your chosen path and oozing out from strands of hair to empty at your feet if not for the lamp of the moon ahead of you. Its light a forecast of tragedy, reflecting off a blade that would drive through the blood of a man who faced an unlikely love with only disgust and betrayal. "Robin?" The light hangs onto your word with a vehemence to uncover your unjustifiable deeds.

"Ivy," a shudder of surprise rattles your head to duck to your shoulders as you turn around. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

You give Robin a frown, tugging your lips down. "Yeah, my weakened bones nearly fell to the floor." She huffs a laugh. "Please announce yourself before you appear." Robin traces over your palish face and your features soften into a smile when your eyes meet.

"Can't sleep?" She asks once you two settle at the side of the Sunny where you'd napped earlier today, some of your vines still wedged between planks and parts of the floor haphazardly missing. You lean your back against the side of the ship and lower your eyes to the floor.

It's a total void, welcoming you back home. "No," you answer, a little breathless. The moon doesn't shuttle into the hole of the deck and something reaches a hand out for you between the atoms of a black hole. Roots twist out, easing close to your feet and sinking beneath the soles of your shoes. "I napped a little earlier." It's safe.

Robin hummed— I know rattles through her hum— and her elbow falls onto the guard rail of the ship. For the next few moments, you regret coming out. Robin's always been more receptive to the details and fine lines; it's not surprising that she can nitpick through a flurry of fronts and covers to the feelings you want to hide. They beckon out to her, wanting to fill that hole that's grown smaller with every day she wakes up to the open seas and the lively sound of her crew. "Chopper said you were sick?"

"A cold," you sniffle, bringing the blanket closer to you. Finding some semblance of confidence inside you, your eyes flicker over to Robin but she isn't looking at you— only turns when she feels your gaze levelled on her. You hesitate, searching for something to say and land on extending an arm and opening the blanket to invite her into your bundle. "You cold?"

She laughs, "it's fine, you should go back in if you've got a cold though." Her head tilted with a smile, "it'll be bad if the night air makes you worse."

Not wanting to find yourself softened in moonlight nor her eyes, you nod and bid her a goodnight before shivering your way back into your room. The door opens and light from Sunny's hallway is swallowed into the darkness of your room before it's banished out with the slam of your door, you shuffle around odd things thrown on the floor and slip into bed.

Your sleep is broken through with intervals with coughing, curling into yourself, shivering still though you burn in the night like a sibling of a star. When you wake up, sometime in the afternoon, you're heaving and reaching out your arms all around your duvet to haul together the skin that feels like it's melted down. Your palms prick against the leaves of vines that have overtaken your room, they fluoresce around your body and branch outwards to all corners of your room. The mess all blur together as your brain thrashes in your head with every splutter, you shake and twitch, trying to make sense of anything. Skin burned raw as you attempt to kick away the shrubbery that's keeping the blanket contorted around your body.

Your throat skinned and crude with its imminent thoughts of water.

A hand reached back blindly to grope at your bedside table for the cup that Chopper left for you last night. What you find instead is the burning touch of the sun, it seeps through the micro wounds stabbed through lines of your fortune and inflames every nerve straight to your heart. Your hand snaps back towards your body, the bones shivering from the imminent heat. Your entire body twitches at different paces, an invasive and hungry need drowns your senses. You need water, you need not for this to happen, water, you need for your sleep to be calm, you need to stop burning, you want to stop losing control, water first. You want water. Water— you turn your head to find the water, you need— Luffy?

Luffy is sat on a chair that you don't remember being there and when you look a little closer, you see that your vines had granted him a throne to comfortably lay on, other than that, they avoid him like the near plague. His body is leaned forward, his chest laid against the side of your mattress and arms crossed on your bed to sleep on like a pillow. You retch up some acid and, like the bowed head of a priest, a gentle petal disrupts the stream, flowing against the tide. It's a beautiful purple colour that's light against the transition to white towards the middle and an eye-catching yellow streaking against the white; lines of a deeper hue stretch through the petal and it's oddly reminiscent of veins.

The petal sits on the puddle of stomach acid that warms your thighs, your head bowed down to stare at it; you feel your soul unfurl at the sight of it, branches stretched outwards over a riverside, the heavy head of buds pulling weighted branches down to drink from the stream. Everything else blurs with a ripple, the petal is withstanding no matter no much you try blinking away an oncoming headache. The river near dries up in your attempt to wash down this unnerving disgust; you hunger for more.

Little changes when you find out what this 'cold' truly was. The lighting in Sunny's library is several shades warmer than the light of the sun, it draws upon the hunched shoulders down to your back as you tilt your head to hear the bones crack under your ear. Four syllables, that's all your death is. A lot of words are four syllables. Anonymous; unfortunate; hilarious; adventurous; hanahaki. It doesn't mean a lot by itself, so you try giving it some context. You pretend to tell Chopper that you're dying, you have hanahaki and that it's something he can't cure in a way you'll accept and you still feel nothing. You think about Chopper's face. He adamantly tells you that he'll cure you, he'll do it. The you in your imagination tells him no. Faced with your refusal, Chopper cannot do anything. In the end, it is a grave that cures you.

Death, as it stands, was something you had accepted when you stepped onto a pirate ship. Even someone with as stubborn a character as Zoro could be welcomed in by death, even Luffy. For a while, you wonder about death. The air in the room pauses as if to grace you with the silence to ponder on it, all you hear is the sound of your own breathing.

The closest thing to death comes searching for you a few minutes later.

You've always been interested in Brook. A skeleton with nothing but a sword; he has no lungs yet still sings, no heart and still smiles, dead but human in all his actions and behaviours. "There you are." He sneaks up behind you, bones falling onto your shoulder as you think, he smiles down at you. "Luffy asked if I’d seen you earlier.” He looms over you for a moment before he's straightening back up and calling out loudly, "but I'm a skeleton so it's not like I have eyes to see anyone anyways!"

It's the two syllables 'Lu–ffy' that shakes you the most. You stifle a cough in your chest and feel it tear through your ribs instead, searching for a path out. "For what?" The breaths rattle in your chest and shudder through your words.

"He wanted to show you a beetle." He takes the seat next to you, peering down at the picture book that you have open. You wait for him to make a comment about seeing what you were reading before disregarding it all with a lack of eyeballs so he wasn't seeing it really but he doesn't say anything, so you're forced to talk instead.

"Brook."

"Yes?"

It takes a single breath to prepare you to say this, it's warm and evident that you've not yet truly succumbed to your illness. "Do you see yourself as dead?"

Death is the art of those who do not live. It's something that keeps people tethered to the moment; it's the one thing that keeps humans humane. It's evidence you've lived, no matter how full nor how long. She's beautiful in her own right.

"I cannot see myself as anything because I am a skeleton with no eyes!"

Brook does not get to elaborate because Luffy shuttles in moments later, whispering loudly. (He'd learned somewhere that you're meant to be quiet in a library when he was younger but his whispers still manage to shake the room somehow.) "You're here! I found a beetle to show you!" He tip–toes to your side, "what're you reading— oh, hi Brook! The flowers here are pretty!" He points a finger down to a sunflower; his index covers an entire petal and he strokes it upwards to the middle. "Do you think they're edible?"

He turns to you with a smile.

You meet him with the same, "their seeds are." He gasps and picks up the book to scour through the letters in search of a name of these seeds. You take in a shuddering breath and when you feel another urge to cough, you cannot stop it.

When vines splatter around the room, they uproot the place; they've always been disruptive in this way. A wave of them washes various bouts of furniture to the floor, through the pounding of your ears, you hear the sound of books thudding as green appendages snake through bookcases and rattle them at the base; Brook's chair collapses as a vine chokes out one of its legs into splinters, the world blurs into a hue of greens and purples. A hand reaches from down in your throat, you heave around gaps of allowance for air and gag, cough, retch up more acid and some tea that Sanji brewed earlier this morning in lieu of breakfast. It's unpleasant. It's ugly in a way death should not be, though you guess the dead don't get to choose how to live in the same way the living cannot choose their death.

You're hauled off to Chopper again.

Chopper's voice comes as the hollow sounds of keys on an old piano. He does another round of tests on you— this set lasts a little longer than the previous and he takes extra caution with some. He finds that your heart is a little faster than it should be, he nitpicks at the bluish tint around your fingers and notes the concerning amount of weight you've lost in the past few weeks. When he asks you, what's wrong, you tell him that that's what he should be telling you.

Hypoxia; another four syllables for your cause of death. "Some of the symptoms are there," Chopper frowns, mumbling to himself. "It's when your tissues aren't getting enough oxygen, do you have difficulty breathing?"

You placed your cheek into your palm, elbow on Chopper's desk. "You're a pretty good doctor, Chopper."

The effect is immediate, he starts blushing and kicking his legs in his seat, a hoof goes to rub at the back of his head and nervous laughter comes from him. "That isn't distracting me at all, you bastard." You smiled and watched the compliment break any semblance of professionalism in him.

He gets back on track a little while later, placing a stethoscope on your chest and asking you to cough. You're not sure exactly what he's looking for but you give a soft cough into your elbow and you can say for certain— just based off the way he jumps back and looks at you a little quietly for a second, it's nothing good. Chopper spends a few minutes looking at your fingertips, then your lips, then some other parts of skin already exposed and humming to himself, troubled.

For now, he says, he wants you to try not to exert yourself— maybe leave fighting to everyone else and focus on resting until he can figure out a better way to confidently diagnose you. His lips are pulled into a frown, hands in his lap and trying his best to be professional and keep his emotions at bay. Before you know it, your hand is on top of his pink hat and fondly rubbing over the material softly. "Thanks Chopper, I'll keep that in mind."

He nods. You hesitate for a second before you're getting up to leave so that everyone else can see that you're not dying— or maybe you should tell them you are, you're not sure you could take another session of Franky accusing you of destroying the Sunny to create more work for him.

Your hand wraps around the doorknob and twists, stopping when Chopper speaks again. "You're not hiding something from me," he accuses gently, "are you?"

Your hand tightens around the doorknob. A flash of that imaginary Chopper comes back to you— heartbroken and confused at your refusal to be cured— you steal an unnecessarily large breath from the world. "I get sudden cravings for sweet things if that means anything."

Chopper, unbeknownst to you, takes those words and carves them true and raw into himself. His eyes are unwilling to leave you for more than necessary during the times you eat together, he watches you push aside the food on your plate, tearing small bits of meat off the bone to chew on it for a couple minutes too long before swallowing. He makes note of the way you have no problems finishing up everything but any sort of meat, sliding them over to Luffy, or one of his victims.

You're met with another blossom soon after lunch. You've made a bad habit of leaving the table early to escape the smell and resign yourself to the open deck, sprawling out on the grass like Zoro usually does. You're certain you're about to fall asleep shivering but the slap, slap, slapping of your captain's sandals are nearing closer so your brain kicks awake with a start; your eyes twitch, eyelashes shuddering in the wind. The darkness over your eyes morphs into a shadow of Luffy hovering over you, head tilting with a hand on his hat— your mind supplies you with the frown— and then you hear him taking a step back and sitting down next to you.

A troubled melody hums through his lips and when you open an eye to peek at him, you see his hands wrapped around his ankles, legs loosely crossed; he turned back to you and you quickly close your eyes. Here is where you finally learn that when Luffy touches, he's never placated with a simple tap, a light knocking between skin— no, he must stroke, he drags his fingers up the side of your thigh, he shivers from the coldness of your flesh and, even then, crawls closer. Then he's silent for a worrying amount of time and for a moment, curiosity takes you over. You find yourself wanting to draw light upon the disgusted features when he's met with someone he thinks close to him is growing closer and closer to a grave amongst the roots.

He leans his forehead against yours whilst you shuffle through the despicable crawl of your heart through your bones, something shifts in you and when you reach to itch at your side, it dislodges. It takes no more than a simple flip for your entire world to shift; you think you saw Luffy hovering over you momentarily before you had snapped to the side.

A fragment of the world greets its end.

Something strangles you, a hand of a giant pressing two fingers against the sides of your neck until everything in you bursts and splatters against parts that have gone unknown until now. There's nothing new to the tremor of vine that erupts through your skin, bubbling through the surface of flesh like a geyser; the tentacles claw their way your throat until you're choking around them, searching for an allowance for air. Your knees shuffle up to find some balance, head ducked to meet the lawn across the deck and elbows digging deep into the dirt. Your spluttering comes in time with the sound of Luffy calling your name, shouting for Chopper; there's a knot tied inside your mouth, you shake away tremors and tears all the same. You erupt yet there's nothing to be burnt, it's only ash that leaves your mouth— only the colourful petals of the wisteria plant that wash over the green of the open deck, burnt in hues with blood.

The next island is a spring island, known for their sweet peaches and sweeter music.

You watched Luffy devour two peaches in his hands, the ripe skin melting underneath his teeth— pale with a dusted blush until it snapped into a bloody red, melted at the pit. Then he's gone with a rustle of mikan trees as you held out a basket for Nami to delicately place her mikans in; apparently, she'd managed to catch the attention of some peach vendor with her sweet tangerines and swindled the poor man out of his money for a basket.

The streets are lined with lively hums and a strumming of odd instruments, music escapes through every crevice of a worn-down building as Luffy jumps from stall to stall, drooling over the goods before you're beckoning him back with his lunchbox and a promise of meat after you finish this errand for Nami. On your way to the stall, you hear faint chattering that doesn't interest you but Luffy straightened up beside you and turns to stare at the people as they argue on who had managed to grow the biggest peach this year.

You sigh, grabbing hold of Luffy's collar when he stops to stare at them and drag him off to the stall vendor who had fallen victim to Nami's schemes. The exchange is easy enough— give him the basket (ignore the fact that Nami had managed to make it look like it was overflowing by artfully bunching up a cloth on the bottom and filled gaps between the fruits with flowers) and make sure you've got the correct amount of money. It's when Luffy asks the stall vendor who has the biggest peach this year that things begin to go downhill.

Rather than answering Luffy's question, the man goes on a tangent about some kind of festival for a God and how the biggest peach will be the offering to said God this year— apparently, Shumi (the woman who owns the fabrics shops) had managed to get her hands on this, that, or the other to help her husband grow a peach large enough to bring doubt to the fact that Gyupuri had managed to grow the largest peach (again) this year.

Luffy insists on tracking them both down to help the people come to a decision as he wiped away the drool on his chin. Resigned, you managed to find Shumi first with her shop being the only one in town that sold fabrics and she denies you both permission to see the peach; Gyupuri, on the other hand, is more than happy to show you to the peach he grows. He takes you straight out of town, into the forest, and then up the mountain to where there's a clearing full of nothing but flesh coloured peaches.

As you listen to Gyupuri's story on how he was merely taking after his father to grow these strangely sized peaches, you have to keep Luffy in your hold so he doesn't go running to the giant peach and take a bite out of what could be for a God. Somehow though, he manages to get a handful of flat peaches when you weren't looking and when you attempt to apologise to Gyupuri, he doesn't seem to be fazed, shoving a few more peaches into your hand and telling you it's fine.

"So, who is this God anyway?" Luffy asks, his legs wrapped around your waist and chin hooked on your shoulder as he leaned back, satisfied with cheeks full of the peach you were holding in your hand. You turn to give him a look, but he merely stares at you back.

The people here must have made a unanimous decision to answer questions from the left side of the field because Gyupuri only tells you the name of this God when he drags you and Luffy up a hill to stare at a statue of this God carved out of generic stone.

To be polite, you call the statue pretty; Luffy feels no need to be polite, so he says it's not really. When you look at him to furrow your eyebrows at him, he's already looking at you.

When you're back on the ship, money handed to Nami, you think about that moment so much that it grows moss in your mind and vines burst through the crevices of the worn–down artifact you've made out his gaze to be. You throw up everything you manage to eat and feel hollow and worthy when you meet Luffy's eyes in Chopper's office again.

There's a chill that follows your days after that.

It's persistent and stubborn in a way that cruelly reminds you of Luffy. On a brighter side, you've got an excuse to be lazy in bed though it irks your bones not to have the weight of you walking thrumming up your body. You get visits from the Strawhats, get your food delivered to you, some of the crew shuffling into your room to keep you entertained with some card games and the likes— you get Luffy consistently making his way into your room and treating it as any other room on his Sunny. He comes in, always makes himself home on the bed, and talks about what he did today. At some point, it becomes less endearing and more annoying to be treated as though you were actually dying. (You hadn't told them for a reason.)

Four days after Chopper had resolutely punished you with bed rest, Luffy decides that he was going to start sleeping in your room. Apparently, your face had translated over what your head was thinking too quickly because he starts whining, saying that he wouldn't get to see you enough if he doesn't do this and, well, since you've always had a tender, raw, skinned soft spot for the boy, you end up saying yes.

He spends his first night telling you what he was going to spend tomorrow doing and you come to the realisation that every other sentence contains you. (Going to find more beetles to show you... Chopper told Sanji it'd be good to get more meat into your diet... Zoro accidentally cut snakes and ladders in half so Nami is giving me money to see if we can find one for you so we can play... Robin said there's a really pretty flower on this next island… For you… For you...) It’s all there laid bare and you cannot face it. You hide your face into the crook of your elbow and wretch out a cough. Luffy frowns but doesn't mention it. He talks himself into sleep and you lay awake to him, trying to keep yourself from blooming throughout the night so he doesn't wake up, cold and still.

When you're startled awake with misty embrace in a dream, you see that Luffy has gone.

What he has left is his straw hat and a mouthpiece of his greatness. The straw is rough against your fingers, resembling the thorns that grows along roses and you stare at it in your lap until you can feel the roughness in your throat— just when you think you need to get water, Sanji shows up with breakfast. You eye the cigarette in his lips and ignore the settling of the tray on your bedside table, watch the smoke fight the smell of scrambled eggs and bits of bacon to take over your room.

"We're at an island?"

Sanji walks around your bed, finding himself comfortable on the couch across the foot of your bed. "We docked early this morning," you watched his smoke rise, ash falling to the wooden floor of your room, waving and grasping hands up to God. Sanji keeps himself entertained by looking around your room, his foot pushing around odd leaves and petals on the floor before he nods over to the plate. "Eat." Then he's gone.

You stare at the tray, settling Luffy's straw hat aside, you shuffle to the end of your bed and take the fork in your hands— you look at the plate until you swear you can taste the eggs in your mouth and the slight bursts of saltiness that'll come from the bacon and you have to wash it down with the glass of water he's given you. You push it aside and opt to go back to sleep.

You dream of a still life on top of a hill, overlooking a dock as the Sunny pulls back out into the sea; you thrash but find every part of you rooted down to one spot, the wind picks up and you feel tangles of what could be hair or leaves hitting against a part of your body. You're still rooted despairingly in a garden of silks and duvets when you wake, Luffy had found himself unable to keep away from your breakfast but when you sit up and look a little closer, you see a pile of the diced bacon bits shoved off to the side as he shovelled eggs into his mouth.

Shattering free from the earth with a faltering cough broken into four, you shuffled yourself up and spit out a cluster of wisteria. At this point, you do not need to look at Luffy to know what his face looks like; he turned to face you, cheeks full and quickly finishing the eggs to shuffle closer to you on the bed with a book in his hands. "You left your book under the plate."

It's a hardback children's book, pulled out of Sunny's library and coloured a light blue that resembled the sky and broken apart by a sunflower in the middle and petals around it, the title curled around the sunflower. You know that the book was left in the library when you were having your episode. The cover is smooth to the touch as Luffy gives it to you and ends up knocking his shoulders against yours in his attempt to get closer; your eyes moved over to the tray of food and you think of Sanji, who'd grown up in the North Blue where this children's story was more popular amongst the romantic commonwealth. 

He knows, you think, and it fills you with a dread that the wisteria blossoms feast upon delightfully; he knows, and he could tell everyone, the vines throb over your heart as Luffy opens the book over your lap and looks up, expectantly at you.

Myrsa was a pretty girl, enough so that praises sang for her ended up calling upon the scorn of love's Goddess. The depiction of her getting cursed is almost comical, stricken by lightning as she returns from a forest with a basket full of flowers and mushrooms. "What happens next? What happens next?" Luffy pushes his face closer to the book, tangling a rubbery leg with yours as he moves impossibly closer. "How does Myrsa beat up the God?"

It's the certainty he holds that Myrsa will beat up God that makes you laugh, it's the fact that she does not beat anything that makes you tremble, shaking coughs and petals out your throat. Luffy seems to think that the book is too excitable, trying to pry it away from you and saying that he can ask Robin to read it to him later so you should just rest. "Don't you want to know if Myrsa will beat up the God now?" You ask instead, knowing the answer will be yes.

Perhaps they were the wrong words to convince Luffy because when you're on the last page, Myrsa buried in a forgotten land and her love used as fertiliser for a field of sunflowers, he's threatening to beat up a God made up to exact revenge for Myrsa. It's a lot more cheerful than you had expected— all the characters drawn with round faces, small bodies, and black dots as eyes. It makes death seem redeemable. 

After Luffy hauls himself out of your room, in search of the God had turned Myrsa into sunflowers, you force the bacon down your mouth and bring the tray out to Sanji. You linger in the kitchen, eyes watching him as he scrubbed the dishes and danced around the kitchen, no doubt knowing why you were there. He doesn't seem to want to be the one to approach the topic just based on the way he refused to stop even for a moment for the past fifteen minutes you've been there.

You know nothing about Sanji past the fact that he's blond, he's a cook, and he used to be a prince from North Blue's Germa Kingdom.

"You know Myrsa didn't die because she had hanahaki." Your hip meets the edge of an island, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Sanji finally slow to a halt, throwing a glance over at you. He takes his cigarette between two fingers, breathing in for a moment and then takes it out, holding it out to you. "What she was cursed with, wasn't ever meant to be able to kill her."

"I know."

Sanji takes the cigarette back after you shake your head, shrugging a little as he continued. "Myrsa died."

You laugh a little, "I read the book."

There's a point he's trying to make that's as foreign to you as the notion of a love that doesn't hurt but he turns a glance to you that almost reads like he's disappointed in you and it settles nicely against the vines choking you through. You straighten up, uncrossing your arms and his visible eye wanders back over the pots he has boiling on the stove. "You liked the ending?" The ending of the North Blue story was a two–page spread of a sunflower field, a planet of bright yellows and a dull light blue, clouds breaking apart overwhelming tones of sunny golds and drowning diamonds.

A tree split awkwardly in half due to the spine of the book, curved in shape and pinched in the middle until you held the pages at the edges and pulled to straighten in down. "It was pretty," a gentle breeze running through the leaves shedding from the tree, a shiver to the wooden flesh that split apart if looked at the right way by the right man. Myrsa was beautiful, even in a death she didn't pick treated her well.

How could you hope to live when she did not?

You find a lot of things pretty now; you wonder if that's the dead crawling in you that is beginning to appreciate the life around. Robin sat on the deck with a cup of cooling coffee on a table in front of her and a book in her hand, Nami stood between her rows of mikan trees, Zoro straining under the weights of his responsibilities, Brook with a violin to his shoulder. The sky drowned over the ocean as Luffy leaned his head against you on Sunny's figurehead, his voice a soft beat over the water rushing against the hull of the ship. He's talking about Shanks and his dream and your heart aches selfishly; his skin gulps down the orange light of the dawning sun and you resigned yourself to a death loving him.

You wonder if Luffy still thinks of his dead brother, your tongue slips against the bark of your gums, and you open your mouth without thinking. "Luffy," you hear spoken into the wind, "will you tell me about your brother?"

"Sabo?" He's clapping his feet together excitedly, turning from the sky to you with a large grin on his face, "he's a part of the Revelation Army— no, wait revocation? Revenge Army? Renovation Army! Wait— that's not right."

"No, the other one." A whisper haunts the wind, 'the dead one' written in its movement.

There's a certain hesitation to his words that brings you to the realisation that being loved by Luffy is a wonderful thing. He's never been one to be articulate with words, picking the simple ones that come to mind first without a moment's hesitation but strangely the simple–minded way served him well when it came to love. Love is not articulate either— it's one of the simplest things in the world— so when it's met with someone like Luffy, it blossoms into an art form of all things beautiful.

You regret have not meeting Luffy when Ace was around. Dancing around his features is a tender skip of tightness; his shoulders pulled up to his ears, head ducked down, lips awkward and tongue thick as he told you the story of being accepted to be Ace's brother. Hues of embers fluoresce, dripping down on Sunny's figurehead as you reached an arm around him; his words are stained in blood and adoration, strained and slow but Luffy persists, his love persists.

"You should've met him!" He finishes, turning to you with a light chuckle. "You would've loved him."

Your hand falls onto his shoulder, pulling him closer despite the crawl of vomit up your throat and you leaned your head against his straw hat. "Maybe I will."

Death is another thing you think is simple. It's as easy as slipping into Chopper's office to find him hunched over his desk, his hooves holding onto a pestle as he circled the butt around in a mortar. "Ah, you're here?" He glanced over his shoulder as you walked around him and settled onto one of the beds he has in his room. "Give me a second! I nearly have your medicine ready."

"Chopper," you think you've played this out in your head before, "I have hanahaki."

His arms slow down to a halt, his face dropping by several degrees; the previous petals that made up his hopeful and cheerful expression flutter to the floor, guided by the winds you'd altered with those four words.

"Hanahaki?" Chopper's words are slow as he settled the pestle down, "I thought— but it doesn't exist?"

"Funnily enough, it died off." You tell him with a little laugh. "As more people took to the seas and chased after the one piece, less people fell victim to hanahaki." The Chopper you've told this to before in your mind was definitely less devastated and surprised to be greeted by the fact that you have hanahaki.

He's stumbling over his words, trying to pick something to focus on first as his face was scrunched up, eyebrows furrowed, and lips open into disbelief. "How long have you known? Why didn't you tell me? You'll have the surgery, right? You can trust me; I'll definitely save you. When did it first start?" Your head is pounding with the incessant questions he spits at you, unable to answer any of them as any allowance for a response was filled in by another inquiry. Suddenly, he's pulling his mind to a stop as he turned back to you, solemn and sad and asks, "who is it?" 

It's easy to tell how Luffy has touched people, Chopper makes note of the way your head tilts and you smile and it's obvious that there was no one else capable of calling upon your love.

"And the surgery?"

The look on your face, although foreign to you, tells him all he needs to know.

That doesn't stop him though, he keeps himself by your side and urges (pleads) you to have the surgery; his constant presence becomes a problem when he makes a point of forcing Luffy away from you. It's small at first, trying to distract Luffy with other things, claiming to want to be the one to watch over Luffy when you all dock so you're not given the chance, clinging onto your arms and demanding your attention when Luffy threatens to take it away from him. Then, when Luffy notices that he's been holding onto this flower for hours, fingers pinched around a sunflower stem to ask you how you get seeds from the flower to eat, and every time he's seen a speck of your colour from corners, Chopper shows up to drag you away or points a finger somewhere to shout about a meat mountain, he has a problem.

You notice it's about the meat mountain at first though.

He's slamming the door to Chopper's office after the fourth time, shouting, "Chopper! Where's the meat mountain you keep talking about?" He doesn't seem to care about the fact that Chopper is checking up on you as he stomps into the room, plopping himself down right next to you. Chopper pushes him away when your shoulders brush against each other and you're coughing out bloodied petals. His attention diverts when he hears the shaking of your cough, how you knock into him uncontrollably as your torso leans to meet your thighs, hands deep into the foam edge of the mattress. Petals splatter onto your shoes, clinging to the leather with saliva and re–painting the laces in a sickly red. Luffy’s touch is intrusive, a hand tightened on your thigh that burns your skin to ash and forces vines to splutter out your skin. They attack him, you reel yourself away from Luffy in hopes that they don’t reach him but in some disgusting way, they force themselves to new lengths to coil around his limbs. Spindling up and up and up and you can’t see his face anymore as a thick rope of vines in the shape of his hand reaches out for you, they keep moving up until you only see his hat— your back knocks against the wall. You sternly tell yourself this death is acceptable; the vines grow limp.

When you’ve calmed down enough, the first thing Luffy asks you is, “why aren’t you better yet?” And you feel as though you’re being scolded for some reason; your eyes flicker over to Chopper, fingers tangled together in front of your thighs from the corner of the room you’ve forced yourself into. When Luffy catches the wandering glances— as if you’re trying to keep him out of something— he treats you exactly how you’re acting. Like a criminal.

“Chopper?” It’s unnerving how his eyes are still on you, no trace of expression on his face, “out.”

“But—”

“Out.” Chopper throws you an unhelpful glance as he passes you to get to the door.

You’ve always had the wrong impression of Luffy— everyone that doesn’t know him has the same image; he’s a pirate that has taken down warlord after warlord, who has brought horrifying change and shifts the balance of authority wherever his feet take him. Hearing hushed whispers of him and his close affiliates in the lightened haze of booze, to distract from a tooth getting knocked out of place never does much for his image either. Though it wouldn’t be right to say that Luffy is wholly good either— he’s selfish. Selfish and impossibly kind and downright disgusting with the handling of his own needs; the sound of your name fizzing between his teeth has you startled, nodding your head back to him on the bed you’d left him at.

“You’re hiding something.” It’s not a question nor is it an accusation of any kind. It’s an observation. Luffy slides himself off the bed, his sandals comically slap against the floor of Chopper’s office, “tell me.” His hands fall onto your shoulders, one stays there and the other slides down. He treats your skin like an amusement park for his pleasure; his nails drag across the goosebumps of your bicep, pressing down on raised scars and then splashes into the palm of your hand, dragging ripples in the centre.

You hesitate, twisting your fingers together and pulling as if to attempt to dislodge the odd feeling that follows his fingertips. “Are you asking as a captain?” Despite how general expectations of Luffy remain pretty low to those who do know him, it’s also known that Luffy has a nerve in him that’s impossibly receptive to hurt. There’s a certain way to activate it and when it’s on, it doesn't quieten down until its idiot owner is pleased. Luffy scrunches his face up in an odd way, displeasured at your question as if he couldn’t believe you’d ask him something that hurtful, and his head tilts.

“Tell me.” You’re met with an unwavering stare, the hand on your shoulder tightens and there’s a hardness to it that you’ve never associated with your rubber captain— you can feel the bone in his fingers, stern and undeniable. Your eyes trace over the exposed, tanned skin of his bicep and you wish that you could force your vines through his skin to crawl into his chest and listen to the tremors that’ll run up your devil fruit from his beating heart for some kind of answer. There’s a sudden breath that’s available to you that isn’t tainted and clogged, trapped before it even meets your lungs, but it burns in a new way as you stare at Luffy, scared and terrified of a new life that’ll be forced upon you if you tell him what’s wrong with you.

You open your mouth with an excuse, but Luffy huffs and the words shrivel in your mouth, collapsing to a grain on your tongue and when you close your mouth, you taste dirt. “Luffy,” you beg, “I can’t— just, I’ll be fine.”

There’s a hint of some anger in his gaze before it turns into a haunting realisation, “Chopper knows, doesn’t he?” He pushes you aside, “I’ll just ask Chopper.”

There’s a ringing distant in your ears that chimes like the bell of the church from that place two islands ago, maybe three— you haven’t been too good with time recently. Sunny shakes like the earth as a body hits the pavement, you feel disgusting and heavy and an itch claws through your palms where Luffy’s hand has just been. You’re sure it’s Chopper he’s shaking an answer from but you hear Robin’s voice, calling for him to calm down and when that doesn’t work, Sanji cuts in. It all gets further and further away, you think about the planks of Sunny opening to welcome you back into that darkness from nights ago, you think about being choked by one of your vines, you think about the wisteria blooming whole in your lungs— you think and you think and think and suddenly, it’s all nothing. You’re dying, you think, that’s a fact, what else? Luffy is the reason. Or maybe you’re the reason.

“Luffy,” were you the one talking? “Luffy.” The voice comes again, stern and your eyebrows furrow with the same tension that the voice is carrying. “Thank you for being my captain.”

Not that it surprises you, Luffy punches you.

[knnichs]

you were mine (but you were awful everytime.)

with kinich’s busy schedule, he somehow can’t find the time to even send you short letters on how he was doing.  or: watching your childhood friend disappear from your hands.

c. kinich & gn!reader ( platonic or romantic, not explicitly stated )

t. character(s) are childhood friends with reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, word vomit, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE .... LIKE WHO???, angst, hurt/no comfort wow i can finally use this tag, little to no dialogue, wc: 1.4k

taglist. @honeyney @pneumosia @tragedy-of-commons @gl4di0lus @ariadnehelx @azuresaqua @mikashisus -> join the taglist here!

A REQUEST FROM @ MIKASHISUS: i’m here for the valentine’s event >:3 may i req iris + evanesce + kalopsia + lacuna for kinich? 🤍 GARDENERS NOTE: RAY IM GOING TO STRANGLE YOU. THIS WAS LITERALLY SO INSANE TO WRITE heres me self projecting AGAIN!

more author notes at the end !

“You don’t think that one day we’ll be separated, right?” 

You played with the grass underneath you, plucking out one after the other and attempting to braid them together to create a makeshift crown. It doesn’t work, it unravels itself on your palm and the blades of green straighten itself back to its original shape. The sun was just setting, this was yet another boring day in the fields of Natlan. The boy beside you scoffs at your question, almost offended if you listen in real hard. 

“No. And I’ll make sure of it.” 

Kinich never liked to talk of the future. When you ask him of what he sees himself doing a few years from now–he would redirect the conversation and ask you to help him with some chores the tribe chief assigned him to do instead. He buries himself in work, even as a child, just to stop his mind from drifting to those kinds of philosophical questions. Who has the time for it anyway?

You, ever so displeased by his straightforward answer, pressed him even more. You wanted to hear more–what he thought of you, what he would do if you were ever to drift away from him, so you asked him: How?

He fell silent for a moment, looking down to his feet. Kinich fiddled with something in his hand before he turned to you, giving you a weak smile. The boy hands you a flower, white and pure, and sits right in front of you. 

“I’ll make a promise,” He raises his pinkie, tilting his head as he did–his bright eyes sure to be forever ingrained in your memory. “That I’ll promise to stand by you until we both die. Is that enough?” 

“But how will you make sure that you’ll keep that promise? Swear it.”

He reaches for your hand, trying to set up the pinkie promise ceremony to get this over with. 

“Then… I swear on my heart, I will be with you.”

You hook your finger around his tightly, as if trying not to let go of the moment. Kinich blocked the sun–but the orange glow reached the tufts of his hair and seeped through the black strands. He used his other hand to cover where the two of you linked, sealing the promise, and he let go.

“You better make sure of it–or else I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” You say, pointing a finger at him accusingly. He raises his hands up, surrendering to your wishes. 

Kinich has always been popular in the Scions. You remember the people who once made fun of him as a kid were now fawning over his looks now that he was older, you were really only the real person who stuck by him through the years. You were there when the other kids picked on him, and you were there even after he had gotten his vision.

But now? You could only wish to be a part of his itinerary. 

You don’t blame him, life as a saurian hunter is difficult. Yes, not many would go into that kind of profession, it’s cruel, but someone has to do it. Kinich had no issue choosing to go to that rabbit hole even when you explained to him multiple times that you were concerned about him going through all of that just for some pouches of mora. Well–the amount of mora you get per commission is indeed quite a lot, but there must’ve been some better way to earn it, right?

Day by day, you never fail to return to the same tree where the two of you had made that promise. An emptiness would fill your chest–one so painful you’re sure nothing or no one else could help fix it but him. You hold Kinich so dear to your heart that it’s difficult to imagine a world without him. What if you had never met? Would things have been different then?

The same sun would sink below the grass, the same gust of wind that greets you–brushing past your hair with the gentlest touch. The same tree would shed its leaves seasonally, and the occasional smell of nostalgia hits you hard. How you had missed lounging around here, under the leaves, with your friend. How you missed when days were boring, and your biggest worry was how you’d get home before it got dark and your parents would scold you for being out too long.

Kinich held your hand when you walked through the streets of Natlan once the moon rose, he held your hand when talking to the vendors in the market and you had no clue how to talk to them–they were intimidating, he couldn’t blame you. It’s a shame he was forced to grow up so young. He protected you as a way to heal his inner child–to give the love he never got. 

You just had to ruin it. 

You just had to be so selfish–to ask him for more time, just a few minutes more or seconds, even. Just a little more time to spend with him, just enough to watch the sun rise or fall, just enough to have one more conversation about nothing and everything. When he does give in to your requests–the two of you end up saying nothing, the silence speaks volumes, you’ve drifted apart. There’s nothing to talk about but the past. You know almost nothing of his life now that he seems so far. 

Those were the same eyes that looked at you with such fondness it was hard to express it in words. You remember the sound of his footsteps when he’d creep up behind you to greet you, you remember the messy handwriting he had when he was just learning–the random letters he’d give you throughout the day just to show you how appreciative he was of your presence. Because you were there when others weren’t, you made him feel loved when the others didn’t think of him as someone equal simply because of his childhood.

His name has always been on the tip of your tongue, a silent prayer of wanting to see him for just a second, swinging through the trees with the boxes in hand for his delivery. The bright yellow of his saurian companion, the brightness of his eyes, the sound of his voice. You had never imagined it would end like this, with him frustrated–your tears close to spilling, under the same tree you had spent time with the most, he would tell you how much you bugged him asking for time out of his very busy life. You couldn’t say anything but recall the times of your youth. 

“No one has the right to dictate my time,” He’d glare at you, his voice laced with something unfamiliar–for the very first time he was angry. “Even you.”

“You promised… you promised you’d stick with me until death. Does that mean nothing to you, at all?”

“We were kids, I don’t believe that counts–you know what? Give me a break. I already have so much to my plate that I don’t think I have the energy to do this.”

The situation was helpless. You didn’t trust your voice enough that you would retort with some witty remark like you used to as a child–you couldn’t shout back at him for being rude to you when all you’ve ever done to him was treat him with the kindness he didn’t know existed. Each word shared between the two of you were etched deep within your mind, he was a part of your soul. You couldn’t believe he would leave you this easily.

So you whisper–because you can’t shout, you can’t speak. 

“Don’t be a stranger,”

Your vision was blurry when he finally turned his back on you. You’re not sure if that was still him, stopping in his tracks, or if it was the tree swaying from the wind– almost mocking you of what just happened, giving the illusion that he was still here, that he’d be willing to salvage whatever the two of you had.

When you call out for his name, no one appears. He wasn’t there to lend you his bandana to dry your tear stained cheeks, stop you from roughly rubbing your eyes so it wouldn’t get itchy later. 

He was truly the only person that felt like home, and on the day of love–you had never expected for him to leave so easily. 

@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.

reblogs with comments are INCREDIBLY appreciated! go scream go feral idc i will eat all of them up and run away with a familiarly shaped reblog in my mouth, thank you.

DAWG THE WAY THIS WAS SO SELF INDULGENT UM the prompts reminded me of something that happened way back THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING ABOUT IT SO I HOPE IT WAS SO BAD UMMMM i literally dont know how to put my feelings into words if u can tell LOL! anyway probably my first time ?? writing hurt no comfort or pure angst ... this is new TO ME !!!! i hope its ok !!

[chervbs]

undying devotion — a. ancunin

pairings: astarion ancunin x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: you have a very limited time to free everyone, including duke ravenguard, from the iron throne. It seems easy enough until you realize you may not make it out before gortash destroys the entire prison, and you along with it. and with your new but thriving relationship with your vampiric companion, you have more to lose than just your life.

warnings: angst, mega angst, main character death, spoilers for act 3 (specifically the iron throne quest), mentions of c*zador, resurrection, hurt/comfort, happy ending, maybe ooc astarion because I’m still getting used to writing these characters, lmk if I missed any!

a/n: hello my angels! I hope you all enjoy this short little angsty piece I came up with for everyones favorite vampire. anonymous requested some angst for astarion and I immediately thought of this moment that happened in my first playthrough of the game where the only person I couldn't get out of the iron throne was my tav. it was a scary moment until I remembered what my man withers was there for. the characters in the game don't actually have a reaction to tav not making it out so I came up with this. any feed back is greatly appreciated! <3

ao3 link

Of all the battles fought between the crash of the Nautiloid ship and now, the Iron Throne is proving to be potentially the most perilous.

The plan had seemed simple when you all waited for the submersible to dock the underwater prison. Get in, free as many prisoners as possible, and get out. Of course the creatures guarding the prison would be an obstacle, but your party had defeated a plethora of foes before, how difficult could this mission be?

You all shared the sentiment, until the projection of Lord Enver Gortash had made an appearance.

“Aren’t you the intrepid little adventurer?” The man’s smug voice startled everyone aboard, shoulders growing tense and glares growing fierce. “Digging and diving where you don’t belong. And I thought we were friends.”

Astarion watched as you squared your shoulders, looking the projection right in the eyes. “Fuck you, Gortash.” The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, but it didn’t last.

Gortash made it clear that if you continued on your quest, he would destroy the Iron Throne, and you all with it.

You had glanced back, communicating with Astarion, Halsin, and Karlach silently. Each of you wonder if this is worth the stakes. Worth all of the lives that could be lost if you failed. Then you looked at your captain, Redhammer the Deviser, and nodded for him to dock the ship.

“That was a mistake.” Gortash scowled. “When the corpses start to wash up on the shore, remember–you could have prevented all of this.”

There wasn’t much time after you docked to accomplish what you came for, so the four of you climbed the ladder with swiftness. The moment you stepped down, your tadpole began to wriggle as a familiar voice spoke to you.

“Halt. You must act with haste. Duke Ravenguard is held within these walls. He must be extracted.” It was unmistakably Omeluum, the mindflayer you’d made friends with in the Underdark.

You knew there was no time for questions. “Tell me what to do.”

“Duke Ravenguard is held in the security wing. Be careful, there are many hazards. This structure is collapsing. Act with speed, act with efficiency. Good luck.”

Swords, arrows and spells were used to get you all through the prison with haste. The Sahugin guards were inconvenient, but not the priority. You only attacked when they were in your way, and dodged them the rest of the time.

Astarion and Halsin were able to make it to Duke Ravenguard, freeing and healing him while also taking down the obstacles sent by Mizora. The security was the closest to the center of the ship and the two men made quick work of the guards still lingering there.

You and Karlach had each taken separate wings, hoping to free as many people as you could. Karlach freed the few prisoners in her wing before she came across Omeluum. Once he was freed, he was able to teleport the two of them back onto the submersible.

It was only as you fought your way through yours that you regretted not bringing someone else with you. The wing you took held the most prisoners and it seemed as if every guard your companions didn’t defeat decided to flock to the area.

Time was running out and you knew it. Your tadpole wriggled again.

“You must return. The prison will be destroyed any moment now.” Omeluum warned. His voice was monotone as any other mind flayer, but you could sense veiled concern.

You took one last look at the crowd of Sahugin in front of you, your heart pounding in your chest. You lacked enough energy to be able to misty step back to the entrance, and there was no time to look for a useful scroll.

“Did everyone make it on board?” You asked, slashing the guards in front of you.

“Indeed.”

You sighed, tears welling. “Then tell them I’m sorry.”

Astarion was the last to climb aboard the submersible after Halsin. Water sprayed onto the platform as the structure began to give way. Halsin reached down to grab his forearms, pulling him the rest of the way. He’d just barely began to search for you within the ship when Karlach spoke up.

“Where’s Tav?” She asked shakily, as if she had already realized the answer.

Astarion’s eyes widened, as did everyone’s. “No.” He whispered, darting over to the window.

There was a split second before the explosion, the force of it rumbling within the water. “No!” He cried, knees buckling as he collapsed.

Karlach slapped a hand over her mouth, tears already falling from her eyes like a waterfall. Halsin bowed his head, sad eyes closing as Astarion lets out a heart wrenching scream.

It didn’t matter to him that his companions had never seen him so distraught, not even after he’d delivered the killing blow to Cazador. No, this pain was entirely different.

This pain was like having his heart ripped out, then his soul extracted then his body mutilated. Every part of him ached in a way he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. Though it shouldn’t surprise him. In the time since meeting, you’d taught him many things about himself. And even in death it seems he’s still learning from you.

Astarion was more silent than Karlach and Halsin had ever seen him. As they received their reward from the Wavemother and talked to Duke Ravenguard, Astarion dragged behind them, silent tears escaping consistently.

Only once they reached camp did Astarion seem to return to his mind, paying no attention to the surprised and concerned stares from everyone else. He was only focused on storming over to the camps undead resident.

Withers did not looked fazed nor surprised by the vampires rage, closing the tome he had been focused on the staring blankly.

“Bring them back.” He demanded, voice thick with emotion. “Bring Tav back.”

Astarion faintly heard a few gasps from the crowd that had gathered behind him, the rest of the party hearing of your death for the first time.

The creatures hollow, echoed voice responded. “There is a cost to do so.”

Astarion’s jaw clenched. “What is it?”

“A matter of coin.” Withers replied simply.

A pale hand reached back into his travel pack to pull out the pouch of coin Astarion had collected throughout your travels. He shoved it against the undead’s chest. “Here!” He snarled. “Take it! Take all the coin we have, I don’t care how much it takes.”

Withers calmly opened the pouch, peaking inside. “That won’t be necessary. This is more than enough.” He said, dropping the pouch to the ground. “I recommend keeping thy distance for a moment.”

Everybody took a step back besides Astarion, only until Karlach placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and pulled.

Withers lifted a bony hand, speaking his words like a prayer. “By doom and dusk, I strike thy name from the archives. Rise!”

There was a brief flash of light that had everyone shielding their eyes. In a matter of seconds, you appeared, stumbling like you’d been thrown back on earth. Which, to your credit, is what it felt like.

Your breaths were quick and heavy as they had been in your final moments, and you patted your body to ensure you really were alive.

There wasn’t much time for you to linger in your thoughts before you were essentially tackled, toned arms coming around you in a crushing embrace. As you heard the sound of weeping, you registered that it was your love who had lunged at you.

A choked sound escaped your lips before you could even realize you yourself had started to cry, arms wrapping around Astarion’s torso.

Through your foggy eyes, you could faintly see your other companions standing a few feet away, some wiping tears and others smiling somberly at you. But they were far from your mind at the moment.

You could only focus on the man in your arms, the both of you collapsing to the ground. “My love.” He whimpered out, surely leaving fingernail markings with how hard he was gripping you. “My little love, I thought you gone for good.”

A watery chuckle escaped, one of your hands coming to lace within the white curls of his hair. “I’m so sorry, Star. Never. I could never leave you.” You sobbed.

His embraced loosened, hands traveling to your face and pulling your forehead against his. His crimson gazed peered into yours, full of desperation. As if he would never be able to look into them again.

“I have never known pain,” He whispered to you hoarsely. “Like what I felt when that wretched place exploded.”

Your lips quivered with another onslaught of emotions. You placed your own palms against his cheeks, thumbs stroking the smooth, alabaster skin. “I never would have made it on time.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

He shook his head lightly, removing his forehead and replacing it with his lips instead. He pressed a kiss there, then to your cheek, and then a final one to your lips, lingering again as if it would be the last kiss you would ever share. You only separated once oxygen became a concern.

“The others are waiting.” You sniffed, though you made no move to leave his side.

“Let them.” Astarion said, a small, relieved grin growing on his face. And you did.

The rest of the world could wait until the end of time for you to part from your Star.”

[strawberryslurpy]

The Great-Novel-Length-Pynch-Fic List

By strawberryslurpy aka your resident pynch addict

I keep searching through fics on AO3 by word count and half the time it’s just Kinktober fics and that is not what I want I want something that’s comparable fiction to novels that are considered literary works of art!1!1!1! In other words, I’m picky. If you are too this may just be the list for you. Enjoy 😛😛

1. Concorde, Anonymous, AO3 (must be a member to read), 176k words

What if Adam was removed from the Parrish household at age 10? And what if he became the ward of a certain dreamer?

This fic had me in a CHOKEHOLD genuinely killed me and revived me. If you enjoy novels that are time jumpy and show rather than tell than this fic is for you. It’s confusing in the fun literary type of way and it is so well crafted and well articulated. I am a huge huge fan.

2. Magnetic by MonsieurBlueSky, AO3 (must be a member to read), 231k words

“an AU in which Ronan never befriended Gansey and after the death of Niall Lynch, Gansey isn't there to pull Ronan back from the edge. Kavinsky is there instead, ready to push him over.”

ABSOLUTELY AMAZING NO NOTES GENUINELY PHENOMENALLY EXECUTED I adore this fic and everything about it. The way the author is able to examine ronans relationships and how magic impacted them is just so so so lovely. I read this in one sitting and I sobbed for hours after finishing. Please read the tags, there is graphic depictions of suicide, self harm, substance abuse, domestic violence, etc. it’s all very canon typical but elaborated on.

3. Violent Delights (Violent Ends) by sunmoontruth, AO3, 200k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58209568/chapters/148221808

Oh. My. God. Holy. Fucking. Shit. HUNGER GAMES AU. Genuinely such captivating writing, the story pulls bits and pieces from the original Hunger Games, but there is so much that is original and fresh that this fic becomes less of an AU and more of a stand alone work. And with everything going on in the world now, in America where I live, this more graphic adult version of the hunger games truly hits where it hurts. Phenomenal characterization, such an amazing adaptation. I am floored beyond belief.

4. (The Time It Takes) To Believe in Fate by LydiaStJames, AO3, 100k words

“When he was 16, Adam walked into a forest in Henrietta, Virginia and exited in 1800s Ireland. The day he spent with the grumpy but attractive farmer lingered with Adam for years, but the forest didn't seem like it would appear again. That is, until Adam returned to Henrietta for his father's funeral and the forest calls him back once more.

To Ronan.”

GOD SO GOOD SO WELL WRITTEN. I have re read this one too many times to count. It is beautiful. It’s also such an intriguing concept and such a unique and original AU that it feels so disconnected from the original canon in a way that makes it much more enticing. Like the characterization is spot on and it’s so cool to see how these characters react to such an odd set of circumstances relative to their original canon.

5. Seek Ye The Living by charactershoes, AO3 (must be a member to read), 40k words

PYNCH FLEABAG AU PYNCH FLEABAG AU

Adam is a priest. Declan and Ashley are getting married. Ronan is having a faith crisis. What’s new.

6. Divinity by Cazio on AO3, 67k words

Magic can’t heal everything, especially when Ronan lacks the knowledge to dream a fix all. In other words, during his first semester at Harvard Adam gets sick. In true Adam fashion, he completely ignores it. But eventually it becomes too much for him to evade.

This fic is emotionally devastating. But, for some weird reason, it’s a comfort fic for me as someone who is chronically ill. It is a different type of illness and a much different type of circumstance but to see Ronans characterization when faced with something so devastating, and to see Adam get taken care of with such love. It means a lot when that is something I’m so deeply afraid I’ll never find. Please please please be aware of the tags and archive warnings.

For now these are my favorite long fics that are pynch centric but also just beautiful examples of literature that is so well written it feels like a disservice to label it fan fiction. I’ll update more as I read more!!

Lots of love,

Your local pynch dealer

[thewinter-eden]

psycho | han jisung

Pairings: Han x OC, Minho x OC

Summary: Anna finds herself trapped in the captivity of a psychopath with numerous other prisoners. The other girls who have been there for a while have been starved and abused, and Anna is obviously headed for the same fate.

Han Jisung, one of the prisoners, a sweet and handsome boy, serves as caretaker for the girls after sessions of abuse. As he and Anna grow closer, struggling to find their way home, the truth about her captor and his plans unfold in the worst ways possible.

cross posted on AO3 under the_winter_eden and Wattpad under alone-at-last.

Genre: horror, thriller

Rating: mature, explicit

Status: ALL CHAPTERS POSTED (20 chapters)

Content warnings: explicit descriptions of violence/torture, mentions of sa, mentions of rape, hurt/comfort, heavy angst, lots of sadness, death, murder, mentions of suicide, starvation, fear, insecurities, hopelessness.

PLEASE READ INFO BELOW

Chapters

1 : hannie 2 : blood soaked cloth 3 : virtues and vices 4 : missing persons 5 : the first one 6 : the knife 7 : the new girl 8 : stay with me 9 : punished 10 : moments in the dark 11 : the pink door 12 : he already knew 13 : the society 14 : I already did 15 : i've got you 16 : here's looking at you 17 : master of levity 18 : never again 19 : all over soon 20 : nothing you can do

THE END

note :

I suck at summaries - they're my kryptonite.

characters :

disclaimer : age manipulation and ambiguity for sake of story.

[the man I'm a little bit afraid of] Bang Chan

??yo, captain of police

[the man I would work out with but never spot on bench press] Seo Changbin

??yo, police lieutenant

[this freaking muse of a man] Hwang Hyunjin

??yo, shop owner

[the other man I'm slightly afraid of] Kim Seungmin

22yo, police officer

[the guy who tricked me into SKZ cult] Lee Felix

??yo, shop owner

[this mini mafioso of a man] Yang Jeongin

??yo, prisoner of Cain (Han's little brother)

[the man who literally haunts my dreams] Han Jisung

22yo, prisoner of Cain

[the man who hurts my feelings regularly] Lee Minho

24yo, police officer

[fill in your own mental image, guys, idk] Anna Park

18yo, prisoner of Cain

[fill in a second mental image ig] Cass Young

20yo, prisoner of Cain

a/n :

don't come for me. I know this is dark but I had to motivate myself to write this story as a backstory for one of my other projects, so I had to transpose SKZ over it or I would never get it done. In ten years, if any of you see this plot in a sucky indie book on a random Goodwill bookshelf, no you didn't.

a/n 2 :

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Or something like that.

so...I don't actually know SKZ? [If I personally knew Han and Lee Know well enough to accurately represent them in a story like this I would—] so, yeah, anyways those guys are real people who do great things in the entertainment industry and the characters named after them in this story are fake people. Hope that clears things up.

tag list: (Comment a request to be added or removed)

@kayleefriedchicken @eastjonowhere @mysterysold @velvetmoonlght

[azaharinflames]

Hi! Can I say something controversial?

I think I’m the only person who doesn’t feel dissatisfied with bucks queer arc.

1. 911 is not queer media, it’s trying to be or seem like it’s progressive but it is what it is at the end of the day. It just won’t show us step by step coming out arc.

2. I’ll try to put it right, not to offend anyone, because I really don’t think that ppl are wrong and have every right to a good representation.

But sometimes it feels like there are boxes to be checked? You have to do research, you have to go to places, you have to find new queer friends, you have to label yourself., you have to struggle, you have to question. And it’s starting to feel like a job interview. But all my life Ive heard that there is not one right way to be queer.

And my story is pretty much. I’m bi? Cool. Like I read a thing here or there, or go to a place if the chance occurs and I feel like it. But not on purpose. I’m out to a couple of friends and coworkers but that’s it.

I’m not sure which Kinsey scale I am (sometimes I feel like 1, sometimes like 2,and on a rare occasion like 3). But I know who I am as a person and I’ll cross any issue that comes with being queer when I cross that bridge.

Maybe it seems like projection but my point is: it’s ok to want buck to go through a journey of self discovery but lately it feels like there is only one right way to do it. (Idk maybe I’m reading into it too much) And it kinda hurts.

Hope you understood what I tried to say. English is not my first and some thoughts could be lost in translation.

Hi, Nonnie! Your English was perfect, don’t sweat it. It’s not my first language either so I get it haha but you’re more than good.

I see your point! I definitely feel like there shouldn’t be any boxes to be checked when it comes to sexuality and identifying with something. I do understand what you’re trying to say, and with that I agree.

However-

I think the main issue here (at the very least, the main issue for me) is that they did build sort of the base of something in regards of Buck questioning his sexuality further, yet we all expect nothing to come of it, because (most likely) the show won’t ever do something about it or actually explore it.

Let me explain:

-Season 7 gave us an incredibly well done arc regarding Buck’s sexuality. He went through a small phase of thinking what it meant for him but it wasn’t something he over worried about. He’s bisexual (even when that is never explicitly stated in the show), he really likes Tommy (and they made an amazing point of showing how Buck likes him because of his masculinity, and not despite of it), and he’s dating him. By the end of the season, we see him comfortably flirting with his boyfriend.

And yet-

-806 painted a weird image. Because we see a Buck who has done no research (and hey, it’s not that weird in general! But it is weird if we take into consideration who Buck is as a character), a Buck that doesn’t even know what Tommy identifies as, a Buck that seems to just have realized he’s in a queer relationship almost. A Buck that still six months in is incapable of saying out loud he’s on a date, or that he’s bi. And I’m all for being unlabeled if that’s your preference. But I don’t think that’s the message wanting to be portrayed.

The issue overall (and again, my opinion. Please don’t hesitate to correct me if you think I’m wrong), the main issue, is that it feels like Buck regressed for no apparent or good reason at all. Yes, one can go through different cycles (in life and in relationships, regardless of gender or sexuality, it’s rather normal).

The issue is that just one episode before this regression wasn’t even hinted at. And I understand they wanted the break-up to ‘hurt’ (something I maintain was unnecessarily cruel, but oh well), but it was 1. whiplash and 2. just plain bad storytelling and writing. The issue, to say it bluntly, is that 806 felt like an AU, like some badly written one-shot that did not take into consideration anything that had happened before.

Overall - I do agree we should not expect 911 to be queer media. But I don’t think the main issue was us expecting that and them failing to deliver. At the end of the day, my opinion is that they failed to deliver a good storyline and one that felt true to the character(s), and that’s why everyone is so upset still.

And yeah, I’m not ignoring everyone’s also upset because they chose to give an unfairly sad and cruel ending to a queer character that had been hated on by a group of homophobic, misogynistic assholes for months. And at the end of an already very sad week and very sad few months. Their treatment of this queer character and couple was the straw that broke the camel’s back for a lot of people.

But overall? I don’t think people were mainly mad for 911 not being queer media. They were mad because of how the show played them and how cruel it all felt.

(Sorry if my rant at any point sounded a bit aggressive btw! Not directed at you if you felt that. I’m just passionate about this lmao. Also sorry bc it got long)

anyway! Love to receive controversial takes, so thank you. my inbox is open for ranting, venting, giving your opinions (popular or unpopular ones) and even confessions!

Take care <3

ps: week was crazy, but tomorrow i promise to go over some posts i have on my drafts hehe 🫶🏻

[littleakito]

HI HI HI HI HI. Angsty Dazai headcanons? Pretty please! With sprinkles on top even!

╰╮﹕★﹒ANGSTY LITTLE! DAZAI HEADCANNONS﹒🩹 TW WARNING.

AVERAGE DAZAI SHENANIGANS (suicide, sh, etc.), MENTIONS OF FORCED INJURY, EXTREME SELF LOATHING & SELF HATRED, DEHUMANIZATION. NOT TO BE READ WHEN REGRESSED (unless you like. hate yourself I guess? do what you want <3)

HEED THE WARNINGS.

୨୧ ：aah! finally getting to this hehehh.. I would have gotten to it sooner! but I need to be in an awfully specific mood to write angst.. tis odd! also! no cherry on top!!?!?! smh… /silly sprinkles are great though, sounds delicious mmmm..

1　 ﹒　Despising pain so much is quite a struggle when your brain has so much hatred towards yourself it begins to physically hurt, they say that once you grow hungry enough, you begin to eat your own heart. Dazai doesn’t have one of those, last he checked. So instead, his body begins to sacrifice his mindset for one of a much, much younger person.

It’s scary, even scarier when your anxiety is running rampant and rapid, coursing through your veins at an all time high. Vulnerability shouldn’t be such a scary thing, but when your most memorable experience with such is having your arms sliced open on a vivisection table, and tubes shoved down your throat, you begin to despise letting people see you as so.. small.

It’s even worse when you mentally feel so little, and the world around you begins to look like tall, scary faces, watching your every move.

2　 ﹒　Being oh so used to tainting all that he touches is rather tough, I feel as if he’s broken a pacifier before and had an absolute panic attack, god forbid someone allows him to hold a cup whilst he’s somewhat fuzzy, things will begin to blur the lines between sitting in Mori’s office, and being right in front of his caregiver.

3　 ﹒　When he betrayed the Port Mafia, he lost Chuuya. I wouldn’t entirely say that Chuuya was his “caregiver”, due to their oh so complicated relationship, but I would say that Chuuya was the closest thing he’s ever had to one. They’re both rotten, but that doesn’t entirely matter when you feel so sweet next to one another.

Whenever Dazai would begin to wish for him by his side, he would grow so much self hatred, how could he want something? How could he ever allow himself that treat of comfort, when he’s done nothing but be an awful, awful human being(? Is he even that, anymore?) towards both himself, and everyone around him.

He’s been biting and snapping at others for so long, that he’s begun to forget he, too, was bitten himself. That sorrow that taints him is a product of another person, who cherished him, yet only for his inability to feel cherished, and understand emotions in the first place, for that matter.

4　 ﹒　After time, if he ever began to feel even a little more comfortable in that state, he would begin to have extreme night terrors of his regression. He would begin to despise it, anything that brings him comfort should be banished, after-all. If he had a specific love for a certain toy or drink or stuffie, he would cry himself to sleep in a corner without it, all in punishment for existing in the first place.

If whatever god is out there created Dazai with the purpose of making a self loathing success of a black hole, destined to be hungry for love whilst tainting those around him, for all of eternity, they certainly are a master in their field.

୨୧ ：projected a lil too hard with my lil man methinks, anywho, I hope this is okay and at least partially in character! thank you sososo much for your request, ash! ‘twas fulfilling!

HEADER READS: “LITTLE DAZAI HEADCANNONS”

DNI BANNER READS “NSFW DNI” “HEY, DID YOU HEAR ME?” “CHILD SAFE BLOG”

[moeitsu]

♡The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee♡

(Arthur Morgan x OC) Masterlist

Hey Cowboys! -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Below is where you'll find all the chapters to my Red Dead Redemption fanfic, I will keep it updated as I continue to post more chapters. But in the meantime, I wanted to make things a little more organized and easier for you to navigate.

Whether you just started reading, or if you've been keeping up with the story since the beginning. I want to thank you! This started as a little side project to keep me busy during my down time at work, but it's turned into something I'm really passionate and proud of! So thank you for all the support <3

!!Please be aware this fic is explicit. As it contains blood/violence, as well as other adult themes!!

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╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ Ao3 

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ Wattpad

Summary: Kate McCanon, a young widow from the north, meets outlaw Arthur Morgan. When the two cross paths she discovers a complex man wrestling with his own sense of right and wrong. As their unlikely bond deepens, Kate becomes determined to guide Arthur towards a brighter path, even as tensions rise within his gang led by the enigmatic Dutch van der Linde. With danger lurking at every turn, Kate must navigate treacherous territory to protect those she holds dear, all while finding love in the most unexpected of places.

Story Tags: Original Character(s), Widowed, High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Child Loss, Infant Death, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Eventual Pregnancy, Fluff/Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sweet/Hot, Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Men Crying, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Self-Doubt, Depression, Emotional Constipation, Historical References, Major Character Deaths, No Beta, Over 200k Words

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Ch 1 - The Years Creep Slowly By Kate becomes entangled in a heist with two strangers, Hosea and Arthur, forging an unexpected bond amidst their criminal endeavor. Ch 2 - The Snow Is On The Grass Again A fisher of men and A strange encounter. Ch 3 - The Suns Low Down The Sky Welcome to Horseshoe Overlook Ch 4 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been It's time to collect a debt. Ch 5 - My Heart Beats On As Warmly Now A well deserved hunt with Charles, met with an unexpected surprise back at camp... Ch 6 - As When The Summer Days Were Nigh The battle begins, and the past is revealed. Ch 7 - The Sun Can Never Dip So Low Kate is not immune to the dangers of the land. No matter how much she loved it, the land will never love her back. Ch 8 - Or Down Affections Cloudless Sky A blissful sunny day after a long hard night. Ch 9 - A Hundred Months Have Passed Kate and Arthur share a tender moment in the quiet of the night. Ch 10 - Since Last I Held That Hand In Mine The Course of True Love and other Revelations Ch 11 - And Felt The Pulse Beat Fast Arthur and Hosea share meaningful conversation after a night of advertising some moonshine. Meanwhile Kate finds herself involved in a dubious mission with John and the boys. She patches up Arthur as the day ends with an air of unspoken desire. Ch 12 - Though Mine Beat Faster Far Than Thine - Part 1 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God in a world that is ugly with violence and hate. Ch 13 - In Dreams, She Comes To Me - Part 2 Arthur’s life is ebbing out like the tide. Kate must work quickly and diligently to reverse the cruel hands of fate. She is aided by the help of an unexpected ally. Ch 14 - A Hundred Months ‘Twas Flowery May As Kate navigates Arthur’s recovery, she discovers that true strength lies within her trusted companions, finding relief in their unwavering support during the trials of his healing journey. Ch 15 - When Up The Hilly Slope We Climbed Arthur struggles to adjust to his new disabilities. Meanwhile Kate finds a job outside of camp for them, providing a few days respite and some much needed alone time. Arthur finally reveals his feelings. Ch 16 - The Past Is The Eternal Past Kate and Arthur welcome a new life into the world. The scene brings back tender memories of Arthur's past, he finally finds the courage to open up to her about his family. Ch 17 - To Watch The Dying of The Day Say, isn't it strange? I am still me, and you are still you. In this place. Isn't it strange how people can change? From strangers to friends, friends into lovers. To strangers again. Ch 18 - To Hear the Distant Church Bells Chime The gang finds a new hideout at Shady Belle, just outside the heart of the new modern America. With Jack still missing, Kate and Arthur must work together to find him. Amidst the tension, Arthur confides in Kate about his deepest regrets. Ch 19 - We Loved Each Other Then The Gilded Cage. Kate and Arthur attend an exclusive garden party hosted by the Mayor of Saint Denis. As the night progresses, their mutual desire intensifies. Ch 20 - More Than We Dared To Tell In vulnerability they meet. As the world fades to a gentle hum, their hearts beat as if they're one. In the aftermath, quiet and deep. Love whispers promises they'll keep. Ch 21 - What We Might Have Been As tensions within the camp simmer and new challenges surface, the gang finds themselves slipping further into uncertainty. Amid the chaos, Kate and Arthur navigate the weight of their individual struggles, leaning on their bond to weather the storm and hold onto what matters most. Ch 22 - Had But Our Loving Prospered Well As Dutch readies the gang for their next big score, Arthur is sent to Saint Denis to settle unfinished business, only to face a ghost from his past. Meanwhile, Kate's come down with an illness, but a vivid dream sparks a newfound resolve to secure her and Arthur's future—no matter the cost.

Ch 23 - To Call Up Their Shadowy Forms In a chaotic, adrenaline-fueled poker game, Arthur and Kate find themselves ensnared in the deadly consequences of their choices during a fine night of debauchery. Ch 24 - The Story of That Past Tension runs high as Arthur grapples with the weight of impossible choices, his loyalty to the gang tested against his growing desperation to protect Kate. Meanwhile, Kate endures her own silent battle, caught between the chilling reality of her imprisonment and the lingering hope that Arthur will not abandon her. Ch 25 - The Hope That Could Not Last The time of outlaws and gunslingers is coming to an end. Arthur risks everything in a dangerous gamble to free Kate from the law. While the weight of the world threatens to crush him, Kate’s unwavering hope burns brighter than ever. Ch 26 - I Care Not To Repeat Arthur’s unexpected act of kindness sets the stage for a fragile alliance between two men shaped by loss and loyalty. Upon returning to camp, they must work quickly to prepare for yet another journey. Ch 27 - Words of Mine Long Years Ago The journey to Annesburg is steeped in silence as tension brews. Arthur wrestles with his emotions and fights a losing battle to shield Kate from the oppressive weight of his sins. Ch 28 - I Would Not Cause Her One Regret Under the tender care of Wapiti's medicine woman, Kate receives life-changing news that will forever alter the course of her and Arthur's future. In the midst, she uncovers a gift left by Hosea, something that will carry them through the journey ahead. Ch 29 - There Is A Future Thank God In the midst of their desire, Arthur's long-buried sorrows rise to the surface. Overwhelming with intensity, Kate's tender heart is determined to sooth his pain. In the aftermath, they share a quiet, contemplative moment, their thoughts turning toward the future.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━ If you're interested in reading about my OC, I linked some posts about her below! <3

Kate McCanon Lore Face and Voice Claim OC Commission! Spotify Playlist About me!