#i’d love one but it implies it’s too leisurely and i don’t want that i just want to be on a trip

[lalosalamcnca]

i need to be travelling and in love right now

[mrssylvatica]

“Evanesced Sylvatica”

1250 | SFW angst, dead alfons x pregnant reader. largely unfinished

◇ CW: Heavy themes of grief, implied sex (not explicit), graphic descriptions of injuries, the reader is biologically female but no pronouns are used, awkward writing and dialogue, half finished, not proofread.  This was written at 5 am.

“Promise me you won't cry.”

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

(I haven't read his path, so this is bound to be inaccurate.  And OOC.)

You knew about the curse that haunted him, yet your soft hands grasped his, gently bringing the harsh black leather to your lips.  How you sweetly, so innocently vowed that you’d never forget him for as long as you lived.

You sweet fool.

Even after your pregnancy, Alfons still lived at Crown's castle.  He couldn’t just leave Elbert, and his abilities were too powerful to throw away.  It wasn’t like Alfons had any problem staying with Crown.

Honestly, it’s more surprising that you didn’t get pregnant sooner.  You already knew Alfons was naturally an intense partner, and each time…  Alfons tended to leave permanent mementos on your skin.  He held you so tight as if he was scared you would run away from him otherwise.  Each time your lips met, it was as if he was trying to embed himself into you permanently.  So you two would become one in body and soul, so you two would never part.

You two would lay side by side in each other's arms, or sometimes you rested your head on his chest, and Alfons would plant a small kiss atop your head, sweetly whispering to you until you slept.  His comforting warmth enveloped you in the darkness.  Sometimes you two would talk in the dead of night:

“Will you remember me, even after I die?  Perhaps you should forget, so you won’t need to face the sorrow in my absence.”

“Don’t talk like that...” Tears filled your eyes and your hands curled up into fists on top of his chest.  In response, Alfons chuckled and caressed your head.

“Shh.  Perhaps happy memories should be forgotten, or it’ll hurt more.”

“But I’d be so lonely without you.”

“I’ll always be here.”  He tapped on his chest.  “My scar is on your heart.  But even though it’ll cause you pain, I still want you to remember me.  To remember all the love we’ve had.  ...What a fool I am.”

Ah, God clearly never intended for this gift of a man to be loved.

You would continue watching plays together, every week.  Sometimes he would stop at the stalls and buy a bouquet or two.  You thought the cruel fate— or maybe Alfons himself— was mocking you with all the forget-me-nots.  Alfons would pridefully guide you through town, strolling at a leisurely pace.

“You see?  All these people.  They all know I love you.”

“But our love is forever in vain.”

“I know.  But isn’t it the moment of pleasure, those fleeting moments of happiness that matter most?”

You two would sit side by side, with your fingers interlocked and your head resting on his shoulder.  Sometimes you would fall asleep, and Alfons couldn’t bring himself to wake you up.  Your sleeping face was much more amusing to watch than the performance before you.

Alfons would caress your stomach, cooing to your child softly.  He’d scold the child for causing you pain with its little kicks.  “That’s not very proper of you to rival against someone who cares for you so much, is it?  Show some manners, won’t you?  Be like your father.”  This would always get a chuckle out of you, knowing how ill-mannered Alfons could be himself.

You knew Alfons would never go down without a fight against all odds.  But now he lay in a dark lake of his own blood, his abdomen split open and his trusty sword lying dull at his side.  Guts spilled from his fatal wound, and you could see the dark red intestines streaming out of the wound, limping at his side.  Scarlet tainted his ghostly pale skin.  You smelled nothing but the cruel iron liquid, tears clouding your vision as you refused to leave.

The world seemed to have stilled, your breathing shallow and your heart pounding in your chest.  How you wish you could offer your own body, giving up your life so he could stay alive.  His oppressors had left, and only you remained by his side.  Alfons was in an indescribable amount of pain, yet he forced a smile, just for you.  “Shh...  shh...”

You kneeled over his body, trembling.  Even if you called for help, it would be in vain.  It was hopeless for him now.  With a trembling hand, he weakly cupped your cheek, too weak and defeated to speak.  You held the hand to your cheek, feeling his strength fade.  He forced out these words from his lips:

“Promise me you won't cry.”

You were left clutching at the air, crying without knowing why.  All you knew is that your heart ached, with your throat choking itself, all without reason.

You now went to plays alone and came home alone.  But none of it interested you.  You thought it would give some sort of clue if you kept going, but nothing.  Nothing.  It was as if you where chasing a ghost.  Or perhaps a bird that had flown away.  Or perhaps a fleeting moment.

One day, in desperation, you called out someone’s name.  “Lord Elbert?”  You had been scared to approach Elbert since your pregnancy because the young lord was jealous of “his” attention.  Elbert turned around with elegant, gentle marble features set in a stone-like expression.  Fingertips coated with red curled around a fallen sparrow, its skull smashed in.  You felt nauseous at the sight.

“Have you felt anything...  missing as of late?”  At these words, Elbert’s expression became twisted and tormented.  You could have sworn you saw fear in those eyes.  Elbert turned and left with heavy yet silent footsteps, without a single word.

You now lie in bed, holding your newborn child to your chest.  Many quiet, sleepless nights were spent like this, staring up into the empty ceiling.  Something crucial was missing, but you didn't know what.  Sometimes your chest would heave, and you would let the searing tears guide you to the medicine called sleep.

His memory haunted you around every corner.  You would come home from the market in good spirits, only to be met with cold silence.  Opening a door excitedly and finding the room empty.  The scent of “him” still lingering, but the person in question remained absent.  You would stare at the open air, waiting for something to appear.  As if “he” would jump out from under the table and assure you it was all just an elaborate joke.

“He” tried so desperately to engrave himself into your body and soul, but he had left your memory in the blink of an eye.  How comforting it was to live in an illusion, to let hope blind you from the truth.  Your heart felt so empty that any sort of sensation, any sort of comfort or relief would do.  You just wanted to feel something again.  But you felt something to begin with?  And what did you even feel?  You didn't need any of these feelings.  You had no idea where any of them came from or why they were there.

This poisonous pain wouldn’t stop seeping into your very being.  You wanted this pain to go away.  You didn’t need it, you didn’t want it.

As your child grew, they bore more and more resemblance to someone you used to know.  You held their face in your hands, staring into their twinkling eyes.  Their luscious raven hair.  But who?  You didn't know.  You wouldn't even be able to know.  It was as if someone had pulled a dark blindfold over one person.

“What kind of person was he?”  You had no answer.

Author's Notes

I've had this idea in my head for quite a while, but I was unable to do it justice... Again, I probably shouldn't have wrote it at 5 am.

SHITPOST MAIN: @rou-luxe

[audreydoeskaren]

do you know Chinese symbolism for homosexuality?

tw homophobia, pedophilia

Hi again, for gay men there are a couple really well known ones but I’m not sure if they were real or fabricated, because all the articles describing them always cite the same couple sources from Antiquity... I tried to verify them but the only articles that didn’t copy and paste from the same source came across as extremely homophobic, so I decided to give up. The most common and reliable one is probably 断袖 or “cut sleeve”, which I mentioned in a previous ask. I would like to use this opportunity to talk about some tangential but more important topics regarding homosexuality in China though.

As a followup to my previous ask where I said I'd look through some Ming and Qing novels to see how homosexuality was perceived at the time, the conclusion I (unfortunately) came to was that homophobia was very much alive and well in Chinese literature and society. A lot of people like to argue that gay people fared pretty well in China historically by either pointing to emperors who were or were rumored to be gay or time periods where gay sex was prevalent as a form of consumption. This is extremely shallow and also kind of Orientalist in my opinion, these arguments always go for the emperors and do not take nuance into consideration or dive into wider societal discourses on homosexuality in imperial China. If you research homosexuality in Europe by only looking at royalty, you’ll find plenty of homosexual behavior too, does that mean gay people had it very easy in Europe historically?? Not to mention that they usually don’t differentiate between dynasties, let alone centuries or decades, even though public opinion on homosexuality in China (or anywhere in the world tbh) could change very quickly. This is also sort of Orientalist, assuming “imperial China” to be a never changing entity with a never changing stance on homosexuality. Since I know nothing prior to the Ming Dynasty I’ll share some of my random findings on homosexuality and homophobia in the Ming, Qing and 20th century.

Gayness as disease

Nowadays the symbol of the cut sleeve is just a benign historical allusion but historically it seems that it was used in a negative and condemning sense, implying that people thought of homosexuality as a disease or deviation from the norm. The common phrase used for the cut sleeve is "断袖之癖", usually translated as "the passion of the cut sleeve" nowadays, but the meaning of the word 癖 here leans more toward "fetish", "obsession" or "hobby" with pathological connotations. I thought maybe this word had a different, nuanced meaning historically but it seems that it was used to describe what it means :(( The only silver lining is probably that with the progression of language it isn’t offensive anymore.

In a lot of popular novels from the Ming and Qing, homosexuality was depicted as a "perversion" and a decadent lifestyle that plagues morality, and gay characters were often either killed or straightened out by the end of the story. An example of this is the story 黄九郎 Huang Jiulang from the series 聊斋志异 Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio by 蒲松龄 Pu Songling written in the 17th century. In this story, one of the protagonists was gay; he died after confessing his love to the other guy in a very fast paced bury your gays arc which somehow reminded me of the Supernatural finale, and reincarnated as a straight man because of his piety. Thanks I hate it. Pu uses the symbol of the cut sleeve to refer to the protagonist, presumably in a negative manner.

Gayness as power/status symbol

Another thing was that historically in China a lot of people confused homosexuality with pedophilia. This is a global thing, but its presence in China is often overlooked. This could be seen in the popularity of another term for homosexuality, "娈童", meaning something similar to "pederasty". I read somewhere that since the late Ming, pederasty was considered a type of tasteful consumption for high society, along with things like fashion, food, music and art. This was not equivalent to the "cut sleeve" or homosexuality as we know it nowadays, which refers to a personal sexual orientation, pederasty historically often refers to an imbalanced power dynamic where a wealthy, privileged man takes advantage of a young boy as a leisurely activity. It’s more to show off that someone in a position of privilege and wealth has the power to procure sexual objects, gender and age don’t matter much in this regard. I cannot help but cringe violently whenever someone brings up pederasty as proof of China’s historical “openness” toward gay people. Talk to me again when in this time and place you could marry someone of your sex (not a minor) and be considered a respectable couple instead of two jerks with a degenerate fetish (not saying that gay people have to marry, it’s just that the ability to do so is an important indicator of equality imo). Pedophilia and homosexuality are not one and the same good heavens.

I hypothesize that the reason why Chinese society was historically homophobic despite having no religious condemnation of homosexual individuals was the idea that having many concubines and male children was a status symbol for men. Women of marriageable age were seen more or less as commodities and male children could supposedly "continue the bloodline" 传香火 and were vessels for passing down prestige, so having them were of utmost importance to a privileged man. Being just gay or lesbian, however, meant that you didn't perform the "man strong working woman weak making babies" heteronormative family prototype, and was thus prone to criticism. When gay men didn’t have children they “couldn’t continue their bloodline” and were emasculated, when gay women didn’t have children they failed to “fulfill their duties as a woman” and were shamed.

It kind of makes sense considering how being bisexual was never a problem in comparison, especially for men. If you were a rich guy who had both male and female partners, you would still have children and concubines both male and female so nobody gives a shit. Emperor Zhengde of the Ming (reign 1505-21) was presumably bisexual and had both male and female lovers, nobody had a bone to pick with that; he famously liked to fuck around but those who criticized him did so for his debauchery instead of focusing on the gender of his partners.  This is different to homophobia in Europe where same sex attraction was considered evil and immoral in and of itself because of religious reasons, in China it was rather the other practical implications of homosexuality (not having children or a family) that attracted hate.

By the way can we just take a moment to talk about bi erasure in Chinese history. From all accounts of Emperor Zhengde I’ve read he comes across as extremely bisexual, but a lot of people try to make him a gay icon? I mean, he liked women too.

One interesting homophobic angle in ye olde China which I find kind of funny was straight women who wanted to climb the social ladder by marrying rich men talking shit about them after figuring out they were gay lmao. Historically, there were not so many work opportunities for women, so the easiest way to improve social standing was to marry a rich and powerful guy. Not saying that women didn't work, they did but their upward social mobility was restricted because they couldn't enter the imperial examination system which was how men became rich and powerful. This angle is relatively benign and kind of helps illustrate that historical Chinese homophobia was indeed fueled by classism and patriarchy.

Gayness as crime

I used to think that there were no anti-sodomy statutes in China (laws prohibiting sex between gay men), but it turns out that there was one decree in the Jiajing era (1521-67) and one in 1740, and private gay sex was not actually decriminalized until 1957. Same sex marriage is still not legal in China at time of writing. I couldn’t find detailed information on what these laws entailed or how they were enforced, but they’re enough to prove that homosexuality in China was legally punishable from the 16th century onward. On top of that, even when there was no law prohibiting private sex acts between people of the same sex, displays of gay affection such as kissing or holding hands could still be legally punished under “public indecency” or “hooliganism”, which was frequently what happened in the 20th century. 

[stopeatingwhales]

"you're still blushing," x damon albarn

I haven't written something for damon in ages so here you all go <333

Pairing: 90s damon albarn x reader

Warnings: nothing :)

Word count: 2.214

༉‧₊˚✧

Having a roommate was always helpful for when you needed to cut the cost of rent, and to have company with someone that you got along with since you either were not far into relationships to be able to move in with a significant other, or you weren’t in a one - in which by having a roommate, made things less lonely. Me and Damon had known each other for quite some time now as Graham introduced us since Damon was looking for a flatmate at a time where, for some reason everybody seemed as though they were already occupied with people they were living with and sharing rent. Perhaps he was a little too late looking into it, but when Damon and I met, it was practically a match made in heaven. Though he wasn’t the first person I’d want to share a flat with, as I had no idea who he even was, just that he was best friends with somebody I was also friends with, he was perhaps, as oddly as it sounds, the best choice for a stranger to share a flat with. We had been living together since his band was working on their debut album, Leisure, and since then we had developed a very close relationship with one another. We both shared love for the same music, read the same books, and he had a personality which formed out of pure ardor and benevolence, which made it very easy to be able to form a strong bond together. It was very enjoyable living with him, as we wouldn’t avoid each other at all. Whenever both of us were present, there was nothing we would rather do than just spend time with one another. When nothing was going for us on weekends, we tended to just sit there on the couch in the living room, drinking warm, hot mugs of tea made by Damon at his advance, simply chatting about anything and everything. We would talk until the sun had gone down, until one of us had practically fallen asleep on the other, which was usually me, giving Damon the chore of putting me into bed, which I would constantly be thanking him for the following morning. At certain points in our friendship it was hard to distinguish whether we had feelings for each other, or if it was just a strong platonic relationship; other people had consistently pointed out our relationship together, and how we supposedly acted as if we were the happiest couple in the world.

After being asked whether me and him were together or not countless times, I had begun thinking about our relationship from an outsider's perspective, and over time I had realised that I was gaining feelings for Damon as I started to take notice of the little things that he would do. The warm smiles that he would give me; his plump, soft lips curving in a philanthropic manner, almost child-like, filled with pure love and adoration for you that you would instantly urge yourself to reciprocate. The unneeded care that would ensue once he realised that I was sick and needed a day off, bringing me a warm cup of tea in the morning, also mentioning that he wasn’t attending his band session later on in the day because I was his main priority, and that music could wait. The way he would rush into my room whilst I was organising my laundry, his lyric book gripped in his hand with a pen in the other, practically begging me to hear the new verse he had surprisingly conjured up in a couple of seconds - my opinion meaning so much to him that he would force me to read his finished songs, changing whatever I thought didn’t suit. And not to mention his features. His angelic, ocean-like orbs, where your eyes would get lost in them instantaneously; causing you to wonder what sort of resplendent alchemy went forth in creating such adoring pools of blue; his foolproof nose, sculpted in everlasting beauty, locked in the middle of his face, showing there was no flaw in his features, that he was the definition of true excellence, and though not a part of his face, the hair from his fringe that would coat over his forehead ever so softly, so elegantly, the strands, though roughly brushed through, looked as if they had been done professionally by his hairdresser. You were unable to pinpoint a flaw on him - he was the embodiment of elegance. You’d simply wonder whether this kind of beauty exists, and to have it living with me, was unequivocally something my heart was unable to handle.

Stepping into the flat that we both shared, I quickly took my shoes off before locking the door. As I wandered around the apartment, the aroma of smoke was easily identifiable, implying that Damon was inside, and smoking. Once I reached the living space, I saw Damon was sitting on the couch, flicking through the channels on the TV. “You alright?” I asked him, leaving the shopping bags on the countertops of the kitchen. He turned to look at me, a sweet smile painted on his lips before he took another drag from his cigarette. Oh, to be that cancer stick.

“I’m alright.” He replied, putting out his cigarette on the glass ashtray in front of him, then getting up to help me with the groceries. “How are you, love?”

“I’m okay. I managed to get everything we needed before we both died from starvation.” I laughed, folding up the now-empty bags that were once brimmed to the full of things we needed.

My gaze was fixed on him as he shut the fridge door as I leaned my tired body on the counter, him making his way after shutting the door to stand as close to me as he could. There was practically no empty space between us as he held me in an embrace, his face hidden into my neck as he played with strands of my hair gently. “I missed you,” He uttered, my heart now swelled in adoration for the man that was holding me, unaware if my body was able to handle more of his tauntings. Once he pulled out of the embrace, he clung onto my hands whilst staring deeply into my eyes. I couldn’t help but blush deeply as I looked into his eyes, getting lost in the essence of his handsomeness. I noticed his warm smile form into a cheeky grin as I realised that he knew I was going red. “You’re blushing.”

Slightly embarrassed, I scrunched my face together and looked down to the ground. There was no way out of it, one day he was going to find out just how much I had grown a liking for him. Instead of responding, I moved away from the situation and headed to sit on the couch, knowing that he would follow suit. Once we sat together, I grabbed the cigar pack that was left open on the table and put a cigarette between my lips, looking at Damon as a form of asking where the lighter was. He immediately grabbed the lighter from his pocket and pressed it, causing a flame to come out. I leaned closer to him to allow him to light the roll of tobacco, my eyes not daring to move away from the sight of the flame. I felt his eyes staring intently at my features, the tension in the air being more prominent than it had ever been before. When it was lit, I instantly inhaled, exhaling sharply to expose the smoke that had quickly built up in my throat.

“What did you do today, Dames?” I asked him, attempting to instigate a conversation. His eyes were still lingering on me whilst my eyes tried everything they could to avoid embarrassing myself again, with another blush.

“Well I went in to do some recording, today was mainly for Graham’s guitar solo so we finished up early,” he answered, walking to the fridge to grab himself a beer, then coming back to sit right next to me. “Graham tells me you’ve got a crush on someone.”

After almost choking on the smoke created in my lungs, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks yet again, the action moving so fast I could feel my cheeks begin to sting. “Ehm- He told you that?”

“So it’s true…” Damon began, placing his drink on the coffee table, a smirk evident on his features. “I thought he was lying, since we usually tell each other everything, but your face says otherwise.” He added, my heart panging slightly as I felt bad that he thought that I didn’t want to tell him. Oh if only he knew it was about him. If only he knew that what I haven’t been able to keep my mind off for weeks on end was him. If only he knew that he’s all that engulfs my mind.

“Who’s the guy?” He asked, as I felt his body shift ever so slightly closer to mine, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as he noticed my stiffness.

“You don’t know him.” I mumbled, staring down at my feet as I felt his breath fan my face slightly, the redness of my cheeks still prominent though I tried to ignore the heat radiating out of them.

“Describe him to me then.” He said, in a teasing manner. Part of me felt that Graham told Damon that it was him, and knowing Graham he probably would’ve done that since he was one of the many who believed that we would’ve been good together since we acted like it. But I wasn’t planning on jumping to any conclusions just yet.

“Uhh well…” I felt my cheeks heat up a bright red again as I looked in Damon’s direction, quickly snatching his beer off the coffee table and taking a sip of it to calm my nerves. “He’s got blond hair, blue eyes…” At this point I was staring deeply into Damon’s eyes, full-well knowing I was redder than ever, hell, I was a tomato. However, as I stared at him, I thought of all the possibilities and chances I would be able to mention to him that I developed feelings for him, and chances that would be handed to me easily. At most, I would probably be forced to go up to him and tell him myself that I liked him, which I had no courage in doing so in fear of absolute rejection. Though the fear of rejection still resonated in my mind deeply, there was definitely no way out of Damon and his questioning - he wanted to know everything, and he wanted to know it all now.

“Hmm… Sounds familiar,” he began, the smirk on his face not leaving any second. “Don’t suppose this crush has a name, does he?”

The next few seconds felt as if they had been stilled. Every single thought that I could have ever mustered in my mind joined themselves together, making my mind and body feel as if the moment we were living in was not real, at all. I felt breathless, ironic to the fact that I had been exhaling large clouds of smoke in the room, but I suppose even when breathing, you can still have your breath taken away from the sight before you. It felt as if I was in a haze, a drunken stupor, a lucid dream that felt far too realistic, but I had never thought that this moment would ever occur in mine and Damon’s time living together, or even in a child-like fantasy, or ever. Our faces were inches apart, my eyes constantly flicking through his bountiful orbs and smooth lips, his eyes fixated on mine, as if he was searching for something. Something to tell him that his suspicions were correct.

“It’s you for god’s sake.” I mumbled before eagerly conjoining my lips with his. I felt as if I rushed myself into it, the feeling enrapturing my mind, my body, and especially my heart. There was no other moment I had felt equated to this as our bodies embraced one another’s, the pair of us slowly allowing what was happening to melt into our minds. My heart was pounding as if my life had depended on it, my mind raced with thoughts so anxious but elated as both our bodies allowed our mouths to brush past one another’s until we were at a loss for breath. Love had never felt so strong, love had never carried this much emotion, this much integrity. I felt as if there was nothing else I had needed other than this moment to characterise its virtue, the intimacy shared overstimulated my emotions, for I felt like balling into tears at this juncture - not out of sadness, but out of pure admiration and alleviation that all this tension over the past couple months was real, that the love we had for each other was real, and not some fantasy that I invoked in my mind. Parting away from him, my eyes were fixated on his features - there was nobody else on this planet that could make me feel such emotion than him.

“You’re still blushing, love.”

[archived-kin]

local cashless god nearly loses you your job (but you’re okay with it)

note from kin: *throws this at you* please take it i’ ve been stuck on the blasted thing for hours (peepaw i promise i’ll write you something where you’re better characterised another day)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, zhongli, xingqiu

pairing(s): zhongli/reader

warning(s): none! (though i do want to give a heads up for some out of character stuff since i started this when i still wasn’t too familiar with the liyue characters)

genre: fluff

“How many copies of Encyclopaedia of Liyue does one man need?”

You shush Xingqiu as the man just across the shop continues to browse at his leisure, golden eyes furrowed in concentration as he trails his gloved fingers across the books’ spines. “Maybe he’s here to buy something else this time! You never know.”

“He’s bought the exact same book seven times in a row now,” Your little brother insists, pulling his nose out of his novel for once to regard the tall figure drifting listlessly from one end of the shop to the other. “I doubt he’s going to break the cycle now.”

“He could be a collector,” You suggest, dropping your voice slightly when the man’s eyes flicker over to you briefly. “This shop’s older than us - maybe it has a bunch of different editions that he wants to get.”

“Well, wouldn’t it make sense for him to find all the different editions and then buy them all at once?” Xingqiu whispers in reply, tapping restlessly at the countertop with one hand. “Then he wouldn’t have to stop by every day and charm you into paying for him.”

You don’t have a reasonable argument for that, so you don’t reply. Xingqiu really is too smart for his own good sometimes.

The man - who you can see is now flicking curiously through a copy of The Founder of Diabolism - isn’t someone you know particularly well, but he’s visited the bookshop where you work enough times that you do know the essential facts: his name is Zhongli, he likes drinking tea, and he’s broke. In every sense of the word.

That last point is quite the source of exasperation on your part. No matter how many times you remind him as he leaves, he never fails to turn up with a completely empty Mora pouch the next time you see him. At first it hadn’t been so much of a problem - he’d just come in, browse the books, start a little small talk with you, then leave. But then he’d actually started wanting to buy the books, and buying usually involves money - something that Zhongli seems to forget exists.

If it had been any other ridiculously handsome guy, you might have sent them packing, but there’s something about the lost look on Zhongli’s face when you ask him for his payment and he realises that he has no way of giving you one that never fails to make you get out your own Mora pouch and suggest that you foot the bill for him instead. Zhongli always tries to refuse your offer, but, in kind, you always insist. You have no idea why he has such an affinity for that particular book, but the way he smiles at you as you as you drop your own coins into the payment pouch is more than enough to make up for the money you lose. It’s not like you actually need the funds, anyway, considering who your father is.

Today, however, Zhongli has neglected the shelf of encyclopaedias in favour of drifting over to the Xianxia section. You’re not sure what’s spurred this change in interest, but maybe it’s the little toy dragon you’ve set on top of the shelf? Zhongli seems rather enamoured by it - he keeps glancing up at it while he reads.

Speaking of the book that he’s skimmming through, it’s a rather odd choice on his behalf. You haven’t gotten the opportunity to read it yourself, busy as you usually are between your work shifts, adventurer’s guild commissions, and making sure your little brother doesn’t get himself into trouble by wandering directly into a gang of hilichurls in the middle of reading a book again. You’re pretty sure Xingqiu has read it at some point, though - to be honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already read every book in this shop several times over. (Part of you wonders if the only reason he’s so supportive of you venturing into the world and taking this job is because he gets to sit with you and read all the books he likes during your shifts.)

You don’t remember all the details he’d spewed off to you over the week or so he spent reading it, but you vaguely remember him crying into your sleeve about something to do with trees and lanterns and hugs. You’re also pretty sure that it got kind of… what’s the word? Risqué? Adult? Well, whatever word you use to describe it, it doesn’t really seem like the sort of thing that someone like Zhongli would read. Then again, you wouldn’t have ever expected your innocent gentleman of a little brother to read something like that, either.

“At least he seems to have good taste in fiction,” Xingqiu sighs as Zhongli continues to skim over the first few pages, looking rather intrigued. “I suppose that’s about as much as I can ask for…”

“He seems pretty invested,” You observe. “Reckon he’s going to buy it?”

Xingqiu shakes his head. “No. He’s going to come up here and realise he’s forgotten all his Mora again, and then you’re going to end up buying it for him again because you have a giant crush—”

You shove him in the shoulder so hard that he falls off his stool. “Oh, shut up.”

Xingqiu quickly catches himself on the side of the table and shoots you a glare, fumbling to retrieve the book that he’s accidentally dropped in the process. “Hey! This book doesn’t belong to us, you know.”

“It’s one book, A-Qiu,” You sigh as he turns away from you, clutching the book to his chest like it’s some precious child that you’re threatening to kidnap. “Mr Yao isn’t going to condemn you if it gets a little dusty.”

“Books should be treated with respect,” Xingqiu sniffs, turning up his nose at you like some nobleman - which he technically could be considered, now that you think about it. “You of all people should know that.”

“Just because I work at a bookshop doesn’t mean I think they’re Morax’s gift to man like you do,” You snort, noting in the corner of your eye that Zhongli’s eyes had flickered over to you briefly as you spoke. “Sure, books are neat, but they’re not holy.”

“‘Books are neat?’” Xingqiu repeats disbelievingly. “Of all the words to—”

“Excuse me.”

Both you and Xingqiu jump in startled surprise - neither of you had noticed Zhongli approach the front desk. You gather yourself quickly and smile at him as he quietly sets the book on top of the counter and pushes it towards you with a small nod.

“Will that be all?” You ask, reaching for one of the complimentary bamboo bookmarks that you’re obligated to give out with every purchase. You’re pretty sure that Zhongli has more than enough at this point, but you don’t want to risk getting into hot water with Mr Yao for not doing it.

Zhongli takes the bamboo bookmark with a small smile. “Yes, thank you.”

You nod and flick the book open to check the price label on the inside of the cover. “Alright, that’ll be… 5000 Mora, please.”

Xingqiu mutters something resignedly under his breath as Zhongli reaches into his pocket and fumbles about for a moment, clearly not particularly hopeful that the man has actually brought his money with him today. Your little brother, as usual, is perfectly correct in his intuition; after a second of slightly embarrassed silence, Zhongli pulls his hand out of his pocket with nothing in it.

“My apologies,” He sighs, bowing his head in shame. “I’ve forgotten my money pouch again.”

“I knew it,” Xingqiu whispers.

“A-Qiu, shut up,” You hiss back, then turn back to Zhongli, your smile back in place. “No worries, I’ll buy it for you.”

His brows pinch together slightly in the smallest of frowns. “No, no, you shouldn’t. You’ve already spent so much money on me…”

“It’s no big deal!” You assure him brightly, already reaching into your lapels to find your coin pouch. “You seemed to be really into it earlier, so it’d be a shame if you couldn’t keep it, right?”

Zhongli’s frown deepens. “Even so...”

“You could always pay back with something else,” Xingqiu chimes in, the exasperated look on his face replaced with a shit-eating grin that you know all too well. Before you can step in and shove him into the cabinet or something to shut him up, though, he continues, turning to you in a parody of innocence, “What do you say? Mr Zhongli clearly has some time on his hands…”

You narrow your eyes at him, not liking what he’s implying with that grin. “I’m still on shift, A-Qiu, I can’t just up and leave. Mr Yao would probably kill me.”

“You’ve been working shifts for two weeks straight,” He counters, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I can mind the shop for a long enough for you to take a walk. He won’t notice a thing.”

“You won’t ‘mind the shop’, you’ll just sit there and read,” You shake your head and tussle his hair with a flippant hand. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you eyeing up those antiques at the back.”

He looks affronted. “Are you accusing me of stealing intent?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” You explain patiently. “I’m just saying that your moral compass is very easily diverted when it comes to books.”

“If I may,” Zhongli begins, cutting off Xingqiu’s indignant spluttering. “I do not mind the idea.”

You turn to look at him in shock, only to see that his golden eyes are already fixed intently on you. He has the sort of gaze that makes you feel as if he’s seeing right through you, as if all of your faults and flaws and wishes and dreams are laid out bare for him to examine at his leisure - but Zhongli doesn’t look at you with any judgement. In fact, if you hope hard enough, you think that there might be some affection in his eyes.

“W-well, I—” You glance quickly back at Xingqiu, who pointedly refuses to help you, evidently offended by the moral compass comment. “I- I’d love to, honestly, but I need to finish my shift…”

“This young gentleman has already volunteered to take care of that for you,” Zhongli counters. There’s a strange intensity to the way he’s looking at you now - hope? Determination? “I know of a quiet spot just outside the harbour. If you would…?”

You glance at Xingqiu, who, despite still looking a little miffed, gives you a begrudging nod. After another moment of thought, you turn back to Zhongli, who gazes expectantly back at you.

“I’d love to go for a walk,” You say, standing up. “Lead the way.”

He smiles then, holding the door-curtain open for you to exit first. You pause briefly to wave a goodbye to Xingqiu, who pointedly sticks his nose in his book and pretends not to see it.

The two of you walk in silence for ten minutes or so, with him in the lead and you occasionally glancing behind you to make sure Xingqiu hasn’t already set the bookshop on fire or something. Zhongli walks rather more quickly than you’re used to, mostly because you usually walk with Xingqiu, who has refused to grow more than half an inch in the last three years and still has legs substantially shorter than yours. Zhongli seems to notice you lagging behind a little after a minute or so, slowing down his pace slightly so that the two of you can walk side by side properly.

“The breeze is pleasant this time of year,” Zhongli comments as the two of you cross the bridge to the mainland and begin to leave the harbour. “Particularly as the sun is going down.”

“I’ll have to get out to see the sunset more often, then,” You sigh. The amount of people milling about around you thins out the further the two of you walk from the harbour and along a grass-lined path, until the two of you are alone.

“I’d be happy to escort you,” He says, glancing quickly back at you, then snapping his head forward again. “...that is, if you’d like me to.”

You’re glad he isn’t looking at you, because you’re pretty sure that the look on your face is smitten to an absolutely ridiculous degree. It takes everything in you not to reach forward and grab Zhongli’s hand right then and there, but you restrain yourself just in time, knowing full well that initiating sudden physical contact with someone that you still don’t know all too well is incredibly rude.

“Of course I would,” You answer. “Just name a time and a place.”

He looks at you again, a gentle smile curving at his lips. “I’ll be sure to.”

The walk takes the two of you through a grove of trees dappled by the rich afternoon light. Zhongli speaks at length about the various different species that you pass; part of you is listening attentively, but the other part of you is far too distracted by the elegance of his quiet footsteps and the way the sunlight glows softly at the edges of his hair to register the information.

Leaves and branches crunch underfoot as Zhongli finally leads you out of the trees and out onto a quiet spot on the mountainside overlooking the harbour. He sits down on the ledge, legs dangling precariously over the edge, and you follow suit, quietly settling down beside him, leaving about two inches’ space between the two of you. Zhongli doesn’t say anything for a minute or so; he’s absorbed in watching the city below him, golden eyes darting back and forth as he watches the tiny figures of the people bustle about the streets.

You notice that he’s still holding the book you bought him earlier, keeping it set carefully in his lap with both hands placed firmly on top of it, as if he thinks it might slip out of his grasp and off the mountain if he isn’t careful.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” You begin, catching his attention. He turns to look at you, and the sudden sight of his content expression, framed by the sprawling fields and trees in the distance behind him and the light casting his features into sharp relief, knocks all the air from your lungs for a moment. You very nearly choke on your words, but manage to gather yourself in time to ask, “Why the sudden change in interest?”

He cocks his head ever so lightly to the side in confusion, then realises what you’re referring. “Ah - the book? I just wanted a change of pace, really.”

You nod in understanding. “I see. A-Qiu’s read that one. He says it’s one of his favourites.”

“Is A-Qiu the young gentleman accompanying you in the bookshop?”

“Yup.” You sigh, leaning back and kicking your legs slightly, noticing with some fascination that you can faintly see yourself reflected on the water far beneath you. “Xingqiu. He’s my little brother.”

If you squint hard enough, you can see Zhongli’s reflection in the water as well. He’s shifting slightly - is he moving closer to you? You can’t quite tell from the reflection alone, and you’re not about to risk looking at him. Zhongli is a little like the sun in that respect: warming you indirectly with his presence, but damn near blinding (and incredibly flustering) to look directly at or make eye contact with. He’s almost ethereal-looking - as if he isn’t quite of this world.

“He seems a well-intentioned boy,” Zhongli comments quietly.

You respond with a light-hearted scoff. “I’m not too sure about that. He’s good at hiding it behind a book and all those airs and graces, but he’s always annoying me.”

“Is that not what younger siblings are for?” He counters, eyes twinkling slightly as you laugh in reply.

“I guess they are, huh?” You shake your head, a grin continuing to play on your lips as you finally turn to look back at him. Somehow the blinding beauty of before feels as if it’s mellowed out, become softer around the edges - like a surging river calming to a trickling stream.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while. The late afternoon breeze picks up a little, and Zhongli’s hair dances about on the air, twisting and curling in swirls as if the very wind is playing with it. You’re so occupied by (subtly) staring at him that the small movement of him lifting a hand to adjust his tie makes you jolt slightly on the spot.

You can tell that he’s noticed as well, so you hurry to start a conversation before he can bring it up. “So… what’s the fascination with Yi Xichen?”

“...ah.” You might be imagining it, but you think you can see a faint flush forming over his cheeks. “The encyclopaedias?”

“What else?” You swing your legs back and forth restlessly, leaning forward and resting your cheek in your hand. “You must have at least fifteen copies by now. Are you collecting them or something?”

“Well, no...” He glances away from you, intertwining his fingers. “I suppose I’m not particularly good at ‘acting natural’, am I?”

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Zhongli fiddles slightly with the seam of his glove, looking uncharacteristically bashful. “I have no need for encyclopaedias, but after the first few days, I found that I had fallen into the routine of selecting one every time I visited.”

“Why did you visit, then?” You ask.

He glances quickly at you, then back down at the water. He doesn’t answer at first, as if mulling over what to say, until finally, he replies, “...I suppose I just wanted to see you.”

It takes you a good moment to fully process what he’s just said to you. Once you do, though, your entire body implode. Well, it feels it does, anyway.

“I— you— me— huh?” is all you manage to get out at first, hands dancing around in front of you like two birds trying to escape from a net, as if they’re trying to physically pluck some words to say from the air. It’s a bad habit you’ve always had, throwing your hands about when you’re stressed; it drives you mad sometimes, but you can’t stop yourself.

Zhongli closes his eyes and bows his head, and there’s no mistaking it - his cheeks are definitely pinker than usual. “Is that alright?”

You nearly choke on air, but you force yourself to take a deep breath instead, fanning yourself briefly with one hand. Getting flustered heats you up surprisingly quickly. “Y-yeah! Of course it’s okay.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles a little bashfully, leaning forward and tilting his head slightly to look at you. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but, if it’s alright… could I see you more often after today as well?

The sheer adrenaline rushing through you is so intense that you’re surprised that you haven’t busted a blood vessel yet. Actually, as far as you know, you might as well have - you’re far too focused on the man in front of you and his… confession? Is this a confession? You’ve read romance novels, sure, but is that how it works in real life as well? What are you supposed to do?

Your head is so filled with pure chaos that you just know that, if you speak, you’re going to say something completely inane and stupid. So, instead, you reach forward, and take his hand in your slightly shaky one.

He looks down at your intertwined fingers with mild surprise for a moment, then raises his gaze to you once more, eyes lighting up slightly. “...I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

You nod quietly, hesitantly shuffling closer to him. He squeezes your hand almost experimentally, then glances quickly back up at you as if trying to gauge your reaction. You offer him a smile; he returns it wholeheartedly.

You’re sure that you’ll have missed the rest of your shift by now, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care. Zhongli doesn’t let go of your hand, and you in turn do not move away from him - if anything, you move closer, leaning slightly into his side. He doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he doesn’t object.

The sun is slowly beginning its descent, staining the sky a pale orange that reflects from the waters below you. It seems that the two of you will be seeing that sunset together a lot sooner than you had anticipated.

[let-them-read-fics]

Worth It

Requested By: You guys!

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!5thMember!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,543

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff, Suggestive Themes

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! A bunch of you guys have been requesting a continuation to the previous Lisa fic I did, so I thought I'd provide for you 😌 I really hope you all enjoy this little addition ♡ Happy Reading ♡

Previous: Dancing In The Dark

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You should've known. It was all too good to be true -- too close to being a fairytale as it teetered on the edge of perfection, just waiting to fall off that mythic pedestal. 

Lisa's eyes meet yours the moment you walk through the front door, opening widely as she scrambles to collect herself -- she clearly hadn't expected to be caught. 

"Seriously, Lisa? Wow." Part of you is shocked, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't see this coming. The bags in your hands hang heavily, weighed down by everything YG sent home with you for review, and their plastic straps uncomfortably dig into your palms now. You don't put them down, though; they serve as a good distraction for what you're witnessing. 

"Y/N-- I can explain, I promise!" Lisa walks around the counter and tries to reach for you, but you're quick to step away before she can. 

"Don't," you say, glancing down at her outstretched hand. She gets the memo, giving a subtle nod as she obediently puts it back at her side to appease you. 

"I can't believe you."

"Baby I'll go pick up some more, any kind you want!" Her eyes are pleading now, scanning between yours with purpose as her brows furrow more and more. She's desperate to make it up to you. 

Her bargaining piques your interest, but you don't show it. She's not getting off the hook that easily. "How could you eat the last one?" Disappointed, you give her a hurt look. "You know I've been craving them and you still ate it! I didn't even get one!" 

"I'm sorry! I didn't realize that this was the only box of them we had." 

Your favorite donuts, all gone. And when you're on your period, no less. The audacity that your girlfriend possesses really blows you away sometimes. 

The pout on your face eventually fades a bit as you see the sincerity in her eyes, and with a small huff, you crack a smile. After stepping around her to place your bags on the counter, you turn around and wiggle a finger at her. "We're getting 2 boxes, and you're paying." 

"Of course, babe. You can get as many toppings as you want, too." She adds, her smile widening obnoxiously as she wraps her arms around you. 

"You're lucky you're cute, jerk." Your arms loop around her neck as she pulls you in, rubbing your back to soothe you. Despite joking around, she really does feel guilty -- she knows how bad your periods can get, and those sweet treats always seem to make things at least a little better. 

"Come on, let's go get them." She whispers against your temple.

You raise your head to look at her, eyes wide in shock. "Right now? I thought you meant we'd go tomorrow… it's getting late, Lis."

"Why would I miss out on an opportunity for a late night drive with my girl? Besides, it's still open for…" she glances at her watch before looking back into your eyes, "...2 more hours. I think that should be enough time for you to choose." She teases, narrowing her eyes at you playfully. You can be pretty indecisive at times, but a lot of that uncertainty seems to fade for you when you're hungry enough. 

"They have so many good options, though. You might have to help me pick." 

"Okay, but do me a favor? Remember this moment when you want to yell at me again for not getting enough of your favorite kind." She cracks up when she sees you hide your face behind your hands, laughing at yourself. 

"I do get pretty cranky sometimes, don't I?" You tilt your head to the side, looking at her with a soft smile.

"That's an understatement, but I'll let it slide. You're adorable." 

She plants a sweet kiss to your cheek before grabbing your hand and leading you out to the car. 

---

Where you go I follow

No matter how far

If life is a movie

Oh you're the best part, oh oh oh

You're the best part, oh oh oh

Best part

The windows of Lisa's car are rolled down, allowing the warm evening air of Seoul to flow in and gently ghost over your skin. Vibrant city lights pass by leisurely, blending together in the distance to create a breathtaking skyline, and Lisa has no desire to rush anything. She keeps the car at a cruising speed, enabling you to relax and enjoy the smooth ride. Her thumb strokes over your knuckles as she sings along with the song, both of you knowing who she's aiming the words at. Occasionally she brings your hand to her lips, laying soft kisses to your skin. 

The heat radiating from your seat warmer fends off any possibility of a cramp, further putting you at ease. Today was a long day of rehearsal and interviews, only broken up by meetings that you didn't particularly enjoy sitting through. It drug on mercilessly, paying no mind to how exhausted you were or how eager you were to be home. Every time you'd sneak a glance at the clock, nodding along to whatever your manager was saying without actually listening, you'd find the time creeping by, the minute hand barely further than what it had been during your last check. It was boring and monotonous, but now you're here with Lisa and you couldn't be happier. 

The open sunroof allows for you to peek up at the stars, seeing them twinkle brightly for you, as if to say hello again. The sky surrounding them is rich; its velvety darkness serves as the perfect backdrop for them, making their colors pop in all the right ways. It's a gorgeous sight, and although you hate to admit it, maybe you're not too incredibly angry at Lisa for eating your donuts after all. 

"We missed you back at the dorm today," she says with a soft smile, her eyes still trained on the road as she lazily rubs her cheek against your intertwined hands. 

"Yeah?" You ask, turning your attention to her. "I missed you guys, too. I couldn't wait to get out of there; Jiyoung barely gave us a break, and we were practically buried in all the paperwork we had to go through. I've never signed so many things in my life." A grimace tugs at your features at the lame memory, and Lisa sports a very similar expression. 

"I'm so glad I'm not you," she says with an amused smile now, chuckling when you flick her. "We're so proud of you though, baby, and all of this work will be worth it. Your solo is gonna blow everyone away." The fleeting look she throws over her shoulder to you makes your heart swell with pride, and you're reminded of how far the two of you have come. 

Through trials and tribulations, hidden feelings and repressed desires, the two of you eventually found your way to each other in the end. You'll never forget the day that she asked you to be hers:

"Lisa, we can't get another cat right now! You know I love them just as much as you, but we don't have room." You try to reason, running a brush through your hair as you continue getting ready. 

"You're no fun," she groans, throwing herself back onto the bed like a frustrated toddler. In a perfect world, she'd have a house filled to the brim with little kitties scurrying around, rolling and playing with each other -- she doesn't understand why some people try to put a limit on how many she can have.

"Stop complaining or we'll be late," you warn, giving yourself a final once-over in the mirror before walking over to the bed. You stand between her parted legs, gazing down at her until she realizes you're there and opens her eyes to look at you.

For a moment, she doesn't say anything; she just takes in the sight of you before shaking her head. She's smiling like a giddy teenager, and you can't help but question her with a breathy laugh. 

"I'm so in love with you." 

She's implied that before -- her words usually accompanied by nervous fidgeting and an avoidance of eye contact -- but something about this time is different. Her gaze holds a softness that you've never quite seen from her, an added layer of tenderness and care behind her words. 

She's not afraid anymore, and, truthfully, neither are you. 

You've turned her into a more gentle person - one that thinks before she speaks and doesn't act so impulsively anymore - and a sense of accomplishment settles within your heart. It's not that you wanted to change her -- she just naturally adopted some of your mannerisms, shifting into a better version of herself. 

"I've never loved anybody like I love you, Lisa." You confess, a look of pure adoration on your face as you realize how true your own words are. She's evolved into a better person to be with you, knowing that she couldn't function as her old self any longer, and that alone makes her different from all the rest. 

You see her release a little nervous breath as she moves to sit further back on the bed, coaxing you into her lap. You have a sneaking suspicion of what's coming, but you bite back the smile that threatens to break out on your face and allow her to speak next.

"Well, then, I think it's only natural that I ask that question." She starts, referencing back to the night that you all made up. You're glad you didn't jump into anything then, when you were high on your emotions -- both of you needed time to grow individually first, but now the stars are finally aligned. You know the time is right now, and you're ready to be together.

"Go ahead," you nod with a smile, playing with the baby hairs on the nape of her neck as your arms rest against her shoulders. 

Part of you wants to mess with her and say no, but all of that goes out the window once she asks the words she's been dying to. 

"Jagi, will you be my girlfriend?" 

"I'd love to, Lili." 

Smiling like an idiot, she wraps her arms around you and lays back, falling onto the cushions with a soft bounce as she pulls you in for a kiss. She peppers your face with hundreds of tiny pecks, giggling when you squirm and squeal at her ministrations. 

You pull away slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, and you grin. "Should we just cancel the reservation? I don't think we'll make it on time and I'm too happy right now to even leave." 

She agrees, deciding that eating takeout on the couch while Netflix plays in the background is a much more tempting offer, and reaches for the phone in your back pocket. 

She lets her hands wander, knowing exactly what she's doing to you, but you allow her to have her fun -- a fitting revenge plan is already being formulated in your mind anyway. 

The fingers of her unoccupied hand flirt with the hem of your shirt, sneaking up under the material to caress your side as she waits for her call to be answered. You brush the back of your hand over her cheek lovingly, reveling at how smooth her skin is. 

"Gorgeous," you whisper, tilting your head down to kiss along her jawline. She sighs as you continue, lulling back into that blissful state of happiness she enters anytime your lips are on her. 

Suddenly, the line picks up and a familiar greeting can be heard. "Hello, how may I help you?" A surprisingly pleasant voice asks, the smile evident in how her words come out. 

"Hi, I'm calling to cancel a reserva-- oh," Lisa starts off strong, only to get blindsided halfway through when she feels your lips against her neck. They tease the tender skin just the way she likes, strategically parted by your tongue every now and then to lick a heated path to your next target area. 

She has to pull the phone away from her mouth when you snake a hand down her body, allowing it to travel to all the places she wants you most. 

"Ma'am?" The hostess asks when the line remains silent, Lisa too busy moving her head to the side to give you more access to respond to her. 

"S-sorry about that," she lightly smacks the back of your head as punishment, but soon groans again when you nip at her pulse point. "Manoban. I need to cancel my reservation." 

The woman begins typing away at her keyboard, searching the list for Lisa's name. Your girlfriend's legs wrap around your waist, and she grinds her hips against you with a smirk on her lips. The little tease is loving this. 

You move away from her neck now, satisfied with the marks you left behind as you follow the path that your hand previously made. You leave no area unattended as you methodically work your way down, making it a point to give attention to all of her most sensitive spots in order to get a rise out of her.

You do, of course, in the form of quiet expletives and breathy mewls of your name in between the small talk she's having with the hostess. 

When you sit back on your knees, momentarily stilling your movements, Lisa's eyes flutter down to where your hands rest: right at the front of her jeans. She gulps at the mischievous look in your eye, but bites her lip nonetheless. 

"--Yes, okay Ms. Manoban, I see your reservation for 9PM? Is that correct?" 

You undo the first button.

"Yes, that's correct." 

You tease her, running your fingers along the material before popping the next one open. Her hips involuntarily buck up towards your hand when you brush it against her center, bringing a shade of blush to her cheeks. 

"And to ensure that we're meeting the needs of all of our customers, may I ask your reason for canceling?" 

You flick the last one open, glad that she's only wearing a semi-high waisted pair of pants -- that little game was fun, but her hushed moans have gotten you riled up. She covers her mouth, sinking her teeth into her palm to silence herself when you pull her pants past her hips and lay needy kisses to her upper thighs.

"Something just… came up. No fault on your part," she rushes out, wishing she could just hang up now and not care enough to be polite. 

Her eyes lock with yours when you push her shirt farther up, kissing across her toned stomach as you tug on the waistband of her lingerie. Its maroon lace is paired with accents of deep purple, contrasting with her skin gorgeously as jagged breaths ripple through her. You admire the bruising patches your lips have left behind that paint her stomach, splashes of darkness to accompany the material that leaves little to the imagination. 

"Ah, I see. Well we hope you'll come back and see us." 

Just as Lisa is about to say a hurried goodbye and hang up, the hostess asks, "Speaking of, would you like to book another now?" 

Lisa's head digs into the comforter, her eyes tightly closed in frustration… for multiple reasons. She tangles her fingers in your hair, her silent way of pleading for you to continue, and she does her best to sound stable as she responds.

"No, no. Thank you, though. Goodbye." The very second that she registers a parting word from the other end, she quickly hangs up and tosses the phone to another part of the bed. 

"That was cruel," she breathes out, though both of you know she isn't upset in the slightest. 

"You loved it," you say, self-assured as you smile against her hip bone. A slight tremble runs through her body, and it works to boost your confidence tenfold. 

"You drive me crazy, Y/N."

You're pulled from your pleasant reverie by the feeling of Lisa nudging your thigh with her hand. You hadn't even realized you closed your eyes. 

"We're here, my love." She says, unbuckling herself. You let out a tired yawn before doing the same, and you thank her when she comes around to open your door for you. You settle against her side, and soon enough the two of you are filtering into the cozy little shop.

Rows of treats greet you, all tucked behind crystal clear walls of glass for protection from any stray kids that may try to snatch one of them when no one's looking. A shorter container sits beside the standing racks, stretching out to reveal an impressive array of ice cream and sorbet flavors. You wander around, studying the different options as if you don't already know them all by heart after being such a frequent customer for so long. 

"I'm debating on getting some ice cream, too. What do you think?" You ask Lisa, only to hear her let out an earth-shattering squeal in response. 

She clears her throat, amusingly composing herself, and acts like the inner 5 year old in her didn't just pop out. "We can get the Super-Ultra-Mega-Shareable Waffle Cone, if you want." 

"Sounds like a plan, babe." You laugh, seeing how ready she is to absolutely demolish some ice cream. You'll be lucky to even get a few bites in, you realize, though seeing her this happy is far more important. 

You spend the next few minutes deliberating with her like you're judges on some Food Network show, deciding on the perfect order as you rack the price up with every gourmet topping you add. Eventually satisfied with your choices, Lisa kisses your cheek and sends you off to find a seat while she pays. Upon scanning the entirety of the dining area, you spot a corner booth that's tucked away from the busy center of the store, and you smile at how intimate it is. It's perfect, and you begin making your way over to it. 

She follows behind you shortly after, shoving the change she just received down into her pocket. The large cone rests in her other hand, and she swipes her tongue along the top of it, gathering up a generous amount of whipped cream as she slides into the seat across from you.

You swear you can hear angels singing as you open one of the boxes, seeing the beautiful spread of yummy treats lined up together in neat little rows. Their delicious aromas waft up, making your mouth water in anticipation. So, deciding not to waste anymore time, you reach for the one that you've been dying to sink your teeth into all day and take your first, glorious bite.

It's made just the way you like it, with the perfect dough-to-glaze-to-topping ratio imaginable. The memory of Lisa specially requesting them to be made fresh warms your heart, and you open your eyes to look at her. 

"Oh mah gahd--" you say around your mouthful of food, attempting to not choke and die when you see how crazy she looks. Ice cream is already messily smeared across her face, reaching just about everywhere -- her cheeks, nose, mouth -- you name it; and her hair is haphazardly pulled back in a messy bun. 

Halfway through crunching on the tasty cone again, she looks up at you. "What?" She asks, sounding as if she genuinely has no clue as to the state she's in. You motion to her face, prompting her to grab her phone and look at her own reflection. Rather than getting embarrassed, she lets out a loud cackle, successfully throwing the two of you into a laughing fit. 

It's the good kind -- slapping the table, making no noise as you egg each other on, filling the shop with those joyous sounds -- kind of thing; and seeing her so carefree is priceless. Any trace of stress that stuck around from the long day you had quickly disappears completely, no longer deserving of the room it was taking up in your brain. This moment with her is perfect, and you're so glad to be sharing it. 

After things die down a bit, the two of you lean back in your chairs, tightly clutching your aching stomachs. Your cheeks hurt, too, but it's the kind of pain you're more than happy to welcome with open arms. 

Lisa reaches for your hand across the table as she looks at you with that special twinkle in her eye, her smile looking particularly swoon worthy. "I'm really happy I ate those donuts earlier." She's teasing, but it's the truth -- this night is a memory she'll keep forever, added to the list of things she never wants to forget. 

"Me too." You squeeze her hand and pull her in, grinning at the taste of ice cream on her lips. The next part (which you knew was coming) still makes you squeal: she nuzzles her face against yours, spreading the sticky sweetness all over you as well. 

"There. Now we're matching." She kisses you again, leaving you to attempt to hide the unwanted smile that parts your lips. 

[sukiglycerin]

mine, kouhai || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: jealous!katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

* genre: smut, pwp, floof at the end

* words: 1,057

* warnings: AGED UP!bakugou, dom!bakugou, sub!reader, swearing, senpai kink, senpai!reader, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, cum eating, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie, some implications of dumbification, mating!! press!!, bakugou is soft when cumming, implied subspace, aftercare (!!!)

* original request: okay so i’ve seen so many bakugou fics about him getting jealous but I remember having an idea to write about the reader getting jealous over bakugo for something so little because of them having a rough day i don’t really have the time to write it but if you get around to it and actually wanna write it i’d definitely give it a read

* a/n FIRST OF ALL thank you for 300 followers!! i could never have imagined this amount of support when i first posted a fic on a whim! this is inspired by this one mandarin asmr audio i listened to 😳 and i LIVE for this dynamic. this is technically a sequel to "yours, senpai," but can be read as a stand-alone. @toishi,, my lidoral queen,, proofread this!

"can't believe you were jealous," bakugou groans as he parts your thighs. "can't believe my senpai was all fuckin' needy for me, so jealous of everyone she knows will never get me.

"isn't it selfish, senpai? you know my cock is only yours, and you still," he yanks your panties off, "have the fuckin' audacity to wonder if i'd prefer someone else? you know my cock will only stuff your pretty lil' cunt full, my cock's the only one you cream around, the only one that can make you feel so good, no one else..."

bakugou puts two fingers against your dripping heat. his eyes are obscured by pure, dark carnality, and a sadistic grin is on his face. his digits drag up and down your pussy, collecting your slick on his finger pads. 

"look at this," he sneers, spreading the digits out into a v-shape. a thick string of your arousal connects them, shining in the dimness of your room. he brings his hand back down, smearing the liquid onto your clit. he rubs fast circles onto the bundle of nerves, the wetness making it easier for him to go faster. oh god, it feels so good; sparks flicker behind your eyes and jolts throughout your body.

"you're making a mess, senpai," he degrades. "shouldn't you be disgusted?"

your juices drip out from you, making a small stain on the bed. bakugou grins, smearing them up and down on your cunt. he then resumes his fingers on your clit, working at a brutally fast past. the sound is egregious, making lewd slapping noises that amplify your wetness.

"look at you, all exposed and dripping for me," bakugou says. "is that any way for a senpai to act, all slutty for her kouhai like this?" his fingers wrap around the sensitive bud, and squeeze. "have some respect."

the action sends you over the top, white-hot pleasure pouring over you. you jerk and convulse under bakugou, who's pinned you down with surprising strength.

"cumming already?" bakugou asks, but you know it's a fake formality. he completely knew you'd cum then, but his words don't hit any different. his hand pulls away from your wetness to show you two of his fingers, which drip with your cum. smirking, he shoves his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean of your arousal.  it's erotic, the way his lips wrap around the digits with such an aroused gleam in his eyes. "too bad. i'm not done."

you whimper, nodding to his words obediently.

"we won't be done," bakugou says, standing up, "until this lil senpai knows that i'm all hers."

how strange it was to hear such a switched power dynamic - the dominance sitting heftily on your kouhai's tongue, eagerly given by you. your eyes travel down his clothed body, fixating on the bulge in his pants. your eyes glance up at him, and he's smug.

"senpai wants my cock, huh? how filthy," he sneers. "well, do it yourself, since you want it so bad, senpai."

you feel your brain go hazy at the command, fingers moving of their own accord on bakugou's fly. you vaguely remember the actions leading up to how you are now, bakugou's thick cock stretching your inner walls out. bakugou lays on his back, lazily gazing upon you. your thighs burn as you sink yourself again on his length, shuddering at the way bakugou perfectly fills you up to the brim. your pace slows down once your stamina has worn itself out; your thighs ache and you just wanna cum. bakugou, however, doesn't share your impatience; he leisurely let's you attempt to get off on top of him, sadistically enjoying the way you struggle to reach orgasm.

"k-katsuki," you embarrassedly say, putting your face into your hands. "i can't- can't-" your legs feel worn dead, and you meagerly grind your clit against him for friction. the pleasure weakens your ability to move.

"senpai can't do anything herself, can she?" he remarks. "tch. look at you." his fingers graze your clit and you buck into his hand. 

his eyes flash, and in an instant, you find bakugou on top of you. your knees are pressed against your chest, and your breathing is heavy.

"what would senpai do without me?" he snarls, drilling his cock into your battered cunt. "stupid little cockslut, that's all you are, aren't you?" he spits.

you can only cry out; your mind is filled with complete euphoria, and the only word on your lips is katsuki, katsuki, katsuki. he rams into you mercilessly, and at this point, you can only see stars. he's impossibly deep in your pussy, the position you're in allowing him to continuously pound into your sweet spot. you can't even tell if you're feeling pain or pleasure, completely stupid against bakugou's cock.

"how could i leave senpai since she's completely helpless without her kouhai to help her?" he says. the words are innocent, but it's filth spat from bakugou's mouth as his fingers find your clit and rub fast circles against it.

"a complete slut for me, that's what you are," bakugou says, and you nod dumbly. you're wasted on the pleasure, unable to comprehend his words at all. all you want is more, more, more, and you grind yourself against bakugou seeking it.

"fuckin' little greedy thing," he says, and you feel the familiar rising sensation in your stomach, a knot getting tighter and tighter. you clench around bakugou and he groans. "you close, baby?"

you merely whimper, anticipating your climax. 

"fuck," he thrusts, "i love you." you're sent tumbling off the edge, spasming and writhing as you cum. you're lost in pure bliss, fireworks of pleasure bursting in your body, and you feel something warm spill into you as bakugou comes down from his high, groaning your name.

"love you too," you murmur belatedly in your post-orgasmic daze. a warm buzz fills your mind, then bakugou's face comes into view.

"hi baby," he says, gently. "you did so well."

you smile lopsidedly. "you did too."

"did i hurt you at all?" 

"no, i liked it," you reply. 

he presses a tender kiss to your temple. "good. i'm all yours, okay? don't make me say it again."

"mine," you murmur, and there's more words on your tongue, but you're already drifting to the warm realm of sleep.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Yandere!Hisoillumi x reader

technically poly? But they’re too murderous to ever admit they like eachother, thankfully they have you to share the festering love they harbour. 

(Warnings: Yandere, obsession, implied kidnapping, dissociation, polygamy, forced relationship, non con touching) 

In all honesty, you preferred Hisoka over his partner. 

He was equally, if not more, violent. Underneath the sickly sweet scent of bubble gum, there would always be a hint of metallic blood. His grip was always just a bit too tight for comfort, and his hands wandered further than Illumi’s ever would. 

But where Illumi would stress for control, Hisoka had a preference for leisure. 

The men compromised in a system where when one was out, the other would stay to keep an eye on you. Illumi was the one who insisted on it (as if you could ever escape whatever corner of the world they had hidden you); Hisoka halfheartedly agreed. 

Illumi prided himself on routine. The days he stayed with you were filled with stressful lectures and suffocating hands. He rarely took his eyes off you, always lingering a bit too close for any relief. Your movements were always monitored, and you often felt like a rabbit stuck in a cage with a drooling cat. 

Hisoka, on the other hand, was a direct contrast to his vigilant associate. When Illumi left to go about his day, the magician would almost often take his leave a few minutes after. He got bored easily and toying with you wasn’t something he cared for. The space he gave you was something you were grateful for, which is why you’d always prefer Hisoka ‘watching’. 

But he’d always come back before Illumi did, playing the ‘earnest caretaker’ Illumi wanted him to be. 

That couldn’t have been more accurately illustrated as today. Hisoka had just arrived to your ‘home’ a few moments ago, pretending that he had kept an eye on you for the duration Illumi was out. You were currently helping him build a card tower on the floor. 

You picked up an ace of spades, trying to balance it on the half-finished tower when Hisoka hummed. 

“He’s here~” He grinned. 

True to his words, the door unlocked, revealing a stoic Illumi. You didn’t know how Hisoka could predict Illumi’s arrival so accurately. And, based on the laugh he’d given you when you asked, you had a feeling it’d stay a mystery. 

Nevertheless, you stood up, wiping your hands together. You tried to make your smile look as sincere as possible. 

“Welcome home, Illumi,” You said and behind you Hisoka chuckled. 

“Aw~ Isn’t that sweet.” 

Illumi ignored the magician’s words, fixating himself on you. He cocked his head, bringing his hands together as he spoke. 

“How was your day?” He asked, his voice flat. 

“Good,” You nodded. You wanted to say something more, but then you noticed the antsy twitch in his fingers. 

You stilled, lowering your eyes. 

Illumi wasn’t very talkative, but throughout the years in his company, you’ve learned the body language he used to sometimes communicate non-verbally. 

Twitching fingers meant he wanted to speak to Hisoka. Alone.

Your smile stiffened and you forced yourself to ask: “W-would you like some water?” 

Illumi stared at you. “Yes.” He finally spoke. 

You made yourself, scarce, almost running to the kitchen. You could feel their eyes clawing on your back until you disappeared behind a corner. 

The kitchen didn’t block the voices, and you had a feeling the men didn’t care if you heard or not. They just wanted you to leave...in case things got physical. 

Grabbing a cup, you filled it to the brim with water, listening as Illumi spoke. 

“What happened.” Illumi demanded. 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Hisoka replied in mirth. 

“What happened while I was away?” Illumi enunciated. 

“(Name) helped me build a tower,” Hisoka simply said, “Isn’t that adorable? I’d say we were bonding~” 

There was a clatter of cards and you had a feeling Illumi must have disturbed Hisoka’s card tower. He always did that when Hisoka was being a bit difficult to talk to. You could almost imagine Hisoka’s grin widening as he watched his structure fall to the ground in a heap. 

“There was a cut,” Illumi emphasized, “On. (Name)’s. Hand.” 

It was silent and you briefly checked your fingers. There was a small line on your pinky, so shallow you would have brushed it off as a callous. You must have accidentally cut yourself on the cards. You weren’t surprised Illumi had noticed something you didn’t. He had that habit of being overly observant like that.

“And?” Hisoka spoke plainly, his voice was strangely flat. 

You could feel the air turn colder, heavier. The air was twinged with something...dark. 

Bloodlust. 

“I warned you-” 

“I don’t see how this is an issue. Pretty, delicate dolls always get marks, it’s inevitable, really,” Hisoka hummed.

“(Name) isn’t supposed to get harmed when she is under your care.” Illumi spoke. 

“Is this why you were so irritated when you came home, let’s be civil, Illumi~” You bit your lip as Hisoka continued, “If it makes you feel better....I promise I won’t let (Name) play with my cards anymore...” 

“...Unless there is another way you want to settle this?”

Hisoka’s words were drowned in blood, and you knew they were going to fight. If you didn’t do something soon they would-they would- 

Your small cut flashed red. 

Without thinking, you crushed the glass cup to the counter. It splintered immediately, shards flying everywhere as drops of blood slowly started to drip down your hand. 

Illumi was the first to arrive, materializing by your side. Hisoka appeared a second later, leaning against the doorframe as his partner gingerly checked your injuries. 

“Sorry,” You muttered, “My hand slipped.” 

It was a lie, not a very good one, but Illumi didn’t care. He turned your hand over, letting his protective instincts grow as blood started to drip onto the tile floor. 

“We need to wrap the wound before an infection grows,” He mumbled to himself, “Hisoka-” 

“Now now, it’s such a small scratch, why bother,” Hisoka sighed, pushing himself off the wall to walk to yourself and Illumi. 

You could see Illumi narrow his eyes, just enough to give a warning but Hisoka ignored him. He quirked his lip up, bringing bringing your injured hand to his face. Hisoka licked the small prick of blood, delicately dragging his tongue along the curve of your hand and you shuddered. 

They had caged you against the wall, but it was much easier to breath than before. The stench of bloodlust had dissipated, mainly due to the men being distracted. Their eyes were now focused on you, instead of eachother. 

“And besides,” Hisoka continued, lifting your caged hand higher, “Some much needed attention is deserved elsewhere. (Name) just wanted affection, didn’t you~?” He cooed, rubbing his face into the crook of your neck. You didn’t answer, knowing he didn’t really care. 

Illumi stood stiffly beside Hisoka, his face was clear but his hands were clenched. You knew he wanted to wrap you up with bandages, to chain you down again so you couldn’t move-so you couldn’t gain another scratch. His paranoid part of him was selfish. 

But the part that lusted for control was even worse. 

Your eyes looked away when you felt a cold hand brush up your thigh. Illumi’s head rested against your ear, but the words he said were for Hisoka. 

“We will tend to her cut,” He told the magician with a tone too soft to be stern. 

“Yes, of course,” Hisoka grinned, “As you wish,” 

Their hands faded into the background as you felt yourself drift off as you always did, forcing yourself to think of things that weren’t Hisoka’s fingers trailing up your neck. 

They were going to kill eachother, eventually. One of these days, maybe tomorrow, or perhaps a few years down the line. You couldn’t stop it, because one day you knew they would never come home, and you would rot in an apartment with no location. 

But for now, you closed your eyes, it was enough to just be alive for today. 

[alfredosauce50]

Method to my madness [Yandere! Switzerland x reader]

Word count: 4,144 Warning: NSFW content later in the fic. There will be a warning line before it starts, and another line to indicate its conclusion. So skip it if you don’t want to read it.

Synopsis: As a stereotypical Swiss, he never did anything unplanned and worshipped punctuality. But when it comes to you, he’d throw that all away and show up to your door unannounced. In another country. And in the middle of the school term. Why? Because he can. Because he doesn’t trust your neighbors, your raunchy one in particular. He was the polar opposite to him—lazy, sloppy, and disorganized. So when he tries to invite you to a party, Basch makes it a point to stop you from going—even if that entails doing exactly what he accused him of. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Crunching numbers occurred to him like second nature. Anything that could be explained in a book, he understood like the back of his hand. In fact, he didn’t have much trouble doing anything at all, but when it came to you, every fiber of his being would clam up. His infallible logic betrayed him like he never had any in the first place. Now was one of those times as he boarded a flight bound for California. 

As he made himself comfortable in his seat, he gave the passengers around him a quick study. Already, they were stripping themselves of their outer layers. Windbreakers, jackets, coats, you name it. A middle-aged man removed his hoodie to reveal a T-shirt underneath, and with big, bold letters spelled ‘USA’, which popped out around his belly as if to emphasize it. A single thought occurred to him as he looked away with furrowed brows. Tourists.

They had their fun, and were on their way home, starting with preparing for the sweltering heat of Californian Summer. He folded his arms together and sank into his chair. He’d remove his knit later. At the moment, he had a more pressing issue in his hands. What was he supposed to say when he’d show up at your door without notice? 

Hi, I felt a dire need to visit you all the way in America in the middle of your semester when I heard you were living in a dorm. But that’s not all. It would’ve been fine until you sent me a selfie with a guy in the background holding a peace sign. Then that other photo showing a different guy using your toaster. Which implies that there are numerous guys living with you. In other words, people I don’t trust alone with you. 

So here I am. 

Surely, that wouldn’t fly. 

You’d known him as a man who had his whole life planned out in a diary. And this was hardly planned. It was spontaneous, even. Basch Zwingli, the stereotypical Swiss who looked at the clock for things to do, was being spontaneous? Hell may as well freeze over at this point. To say this would surprise you was given, but he didn’t see anything wrong with this, per se. He probably would’ve done this to Lilli, but the thing was, he wouldn’t have ever let her study abroad by herself in the first place. 

She was his baby sister, but you weren’t. And that was probably why he was at your doorstep. He couldn’t oppose your choice of study, but he could sure as hell be part of it. 

He knocked a few times. He could barely make out the faint ‘just a second!’, but the sound of the voice was so familiar, he froze up. But that wasn’t quite right. Hearing Lilli’s voice never made him feel this way. The door creaked open to reveal a less than presentable girl in her pajamas, an oversized shirt, and she had the messy bed hair to go with it. 

And when you saw who your visitor was, the droop in your eyes disappeared. 

“Basch!? Oh my god--what are you--” You could barely talk as disbelieving laughs fell from your lips. “I can’t believe it’s you! I almost couldn’t recognize your face because I didn’t expect you at all!” Reaching out to give him a tight embrace, he returned the gesture with a gentler hug. 

His arms were slow to wrap around your form, but to even have your affection reciprocated at all spoke volumes of how he was feeling. It had been nearly half a year since he saw you last, and to realize he was spoiling himself with an unannounced visit sent chills down his spine. He really was pushing the envelope with this one. But he had a gut feeling he wouldn’t regret this at all. 

When you pulled away, he caught you gleaming at him with the brightest of smiles. It was so infectious, he felt a light tugging at his lips. “Well, I’m here if that convinces you.”  

You grinned. “What are you even doing here? My break doesn’t start until a month later! But I can say this is a good time you caught me in. I only have one more final to pull through.” Pulling him into your humble abode, you barely made it into the hallway when you failed to hear the sound of wheels. So you paused. “... Basch, where’s your stuff?” 

Confusion contorted at your expression, but you looked more worried than anything. It would’ve made sense if he was planning to stay at a hotel, but that wasn’t possible. He’d rather sleep on the ground than spend hundreds of dollars for accommodation, and what was the point of visiting if he wasn’t under the same roof as you? He tensed up as he confronted how truly out of character he’d been acting. 

Shit. Even he was shocked that he failed to bring the most fundamental of things for this trip. When he bought his ticket, nothing went through his mind besides the need to see you. It took up so much of his brain, it managed to block out the concept of a suitcase. Packing for a trip that was to last for months. How was he supposed to explain himself? “... They lost my suitcase on the way here.” Perfect. 

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you nodded in understanding. “Ah, that’s too bad. I’m sure they’ll find it for you, though. Otherwise, they’re gonna have one hell of a lawsuit.” 

“... But where’s Lilli?”  

Why was his sister not with him when they were practically sewed together by the hip? And for such an important visit, no less. But he came prepared in case you’d ask. “Lilli’s not here because she had school. And I saw that tickets were the cheapest during this time so I decided to come early.” 

At the sound of that, any traces of worry left your face and you burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Of course you did, you cheapskate. I was always wondering which trait of yours was the strongest, but now I know.” Blood rushed up to his cheeks and he forced himself to look away. But when he felt your hands settle on his shoulders, he slowly turned to you. He didn’t even know if he was supposed to regret that action, because in that very second, he realized he was wrapped around your finger. 

“I’m just kidding, Basch. There’s nothing wrong with saving money. And if that means you get to visit early, I’ll love you for it.” You cracked a tender smile at him this time around, and seeing that look on your face while listening to you talk had him wondering if he was even breathing at that point. 

It was almost terrifying how easily he could lose his head around you. And he thought he had a good one on his shoulders. Everyone did. How come he could barely even think straight when it came to you?   

“... Right.” He tipped his head forward to let his bangs fall in front of his face. It was a gesture that was almost shy in nature, but his action revealed a small ponytail on the back of his head, which of course, stole your attention away in an instant. 

You gasped to emphasize the discovery. “Aw, did you tie your hair up? It looks so good! Everyone’s gonna be asking about you now!” Giving him a teasing elbow, you watched his expression morph into dismay. “Hey, I promise it’s a good kind of curiosity. College has us all swarmed and we’re dying for something out of the ordinary. My friends will be excited to meet you!” 

“Why, because I’m… European?” 

“Are you asking that because I complimented your hair?” He heard a soft snort from you. “I’m from the same town as you, dummy. I think I’d count as European as well. But that’s probably what they’ll be so interested about.” That was right. “If they find out about you, they won’t stop asking about if we’re… You know what.” Your voice strained a little and you looked embarrassed, even.

He blinked. For someone so high-strung about you, he could sometimes miss the key points. 

“I’m having a hard time following. About what?” 

You sighed and pushed his cheeks together to muffle his words. “Why do you always have to make me say everything, hm? They’ll obviously ask if we’re dating. You’ve never met them because they always go elsewhere during the break, but everyone will be here this time.” 

By everyone, he assumed that included peace-sign guy and toaster-leeching guy. Immediately, he frowned with the most potent kind of disdain he ever felt. To think they spent most of the year with you was almost disheartening. But he didn’t need to remind himself they were the reason he was here. Basch could admit he was an oblivious person at times, but he wasn’t ignorant to the promiscuous sex life in college. The men here were wolves, so he had to see for himself if he could really leave you alone here. 

But he had a feeling he wouldn’t be leaving your side anytime soon. 

If that was going to give your friends the wrong idea, or perhaps, the right idea about you two, then so be it. He even wanted them to assume things. Even if he didn’t think much of it, flying all the way here for an impromptu visit was more than enough to get mouths moving. 

He had yet to be on the same page as them. To realize that maybe, what he was doing wasn’t because you were like a little sister to him--like Lilli--someone to be protected. Or rather, someone he had strong feelings for. But given enough time around these so-called friends of yours, he’d learn it the hard way. And who better to press his buttons than your raunchy next-door neighbor? 

The day after his unexpected arrival, he’d encounter this very neighbor who found the leisure in swinging by for a visit. Basch had his hands full with dishes in the sink when a few knocks were heard. He was generous enough to make lunch and clean up, though you had to wonder if doing chores was how he’d repay the debt from all the things you had to buy for him. 

He never moved from where he stood as he could already hear you scrambling to answer the door. When it creaked open, a low and playful laugh greeted you. “There’s my girl.” My what now? Turning his head to the newcomer, he felt a pang of annoyance when he saw a man lean in from the doorframe. Said man reached out to give your hair an affectionate ruffle, and immediately, Basch decided he didn’t like him. 

“Mornin’. Did ya eat yet? I was gonna go to a cafe for some grub. The one that has those killer vegan pancakes. Wanna come with?” 

You hummed in disappointment. “Sorry, Al. I just ate. Maybe if you came in a little earlier, I would’ve been able to come.” Placing your hands on your hips, you placed emphasis on what you later added. “It’s two.” 

No, he hated him. From that brief exchange and study of his physical appearance, he knew he was practically the polar opposite of him. A lazy,  good-for-nothing slob. He had two full sleeves of tattoos. Piercings decorated one of his eyebrows, and as he spoke, he saw a small silver ball on his tongue. His fiery red hair wasn’t even long, but it was still unkempt as if he just rolled out of bed and didn’t bother checking the mirror. But then again, he did greet you with ‘morning’. Basch tightened his ponytail and made his way over to you, disgruntled. “...”

Sensing his presence by your side, you patted him on the back. “This is Basch, by the way. The friend I told you about.” When you exchanged looks with Basch, your smile faltered when you saw his expression. He looked almost upset, though you hadn’t the faintest idea why. 

You figured you’d ask later. 

The stranger was fast to acknowledge him, and with great enthusiasm at that. “Ohh, you’re the dude who flew over from Finland or something!” His striking ruby eyes widened with fascination, and he was grinning from ear to ear. “Wow, you’re pretty high-strung bout’ her, aren’t you? Makes the two of us.”  

High-strung about you? Of course, he was--whatever the hell that meant. “... Switzerland.” The blonde clarified, to where Allen merely shrugged. “Close enough.” 

While you laughed off his playful jibes and apparent forgetfulness, Basch couldn’t humor him. Between him and your neighbor, they were probably completely serious about the high-strung bit. He could tell in that brief side-eye Allen gave him, almost as if he was trying to stir some kind of reaction. 

So be it. Two could play at this game. Unbeknownst to your raunchy friend, Basch could be just as outspoken. 

“Anyways--” Rolling his head to you, Allen shot you an expectant look. “So… What’s your answer, doll? To the party this Friday? Is it a yes or a yes?” 

“She’s not going.”

Your lips separated agape to answer, but he beat you to it. His invitation was shot down just like that. Shock widened your eyes and you gawked at Basch. You knew how protective he could get, exceedingly so, but it never got to the point of canceling plans without discussion. 

“What do you mean, I’m not going? Basch, it’s fine!” You exasperated, but his only response was to squeeze your hand. 

Something was wrong, for sure. 

“... Yeah, it’s not like anything‘s gonna happen. Not when I’m around. So what’s the big idea, man?” Allen folded his arms disapprovingly. A shrewd light glinted in his eyes when he was struck with an idea. “If you’re so worried, you can just come with. Even though you’re not her boyfriend—”

Basch felt himself go red in the face. From both anger and mortification—because Allen was right. 

“... Fine. I will go with her.” He relented, albeit reluctantly. Hardening his stare at the tanned figure, someone who sounded more persistent than he liked, he let his tongue slip. “And it doesn’t matter I’m not her boyfriend. I’m still her best friend, and I care about her more than you do.”

It was a given from how long you’ve been this close to him. But that didn’t change the fact blurting that out was unlike him. It left you in a blushing tizzy to hear him explicitly say those things, and you grew hyper-aware of his iron grip on your hand. 

Being protective was one thing. But when was he possessive? 

Allen laughed. “Yeah, yeah. You can flex that label all you want.” Making a move to leave by turning his feet, his lips curled up into a mischievous smirk. “I don’t want it. Not when a better label’s up for grabs. Boyfriend. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Shooting you a wink to reduce you into a stuttering mess, he took his leave. 

And when he did, Basch lost his shit. 

“How long have you been friends with that guy? Can’t you see he’s just trying to get into your pants? He’ll probably stop being so nice to you once he does!” He fumed, taking both your hands into his as if to secure you in place. But really, you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you were about to receive the biggest lecture of your life. “You can’t hang around people like that, (F/N). You can’t trust him.”

You hung your head as a frown downturned your features. There was some truth to his words, especially when the man he spoke so ill of was a fairly new friend of yours. It was a shame to say the least because you did like having him around, but that wasn’t the biggest concern of yours at the moment. “You’re right… Kinda… I just really liked him as a friend, so I didn’t wanna say no…”

That didn’t come out right.

He thinned his lips as a grim expression contorted at his face. “... Did he do anything to you?”

You shook your head profusely. “No! God, no, of course not! Sorry, I put it weirdly. Nothing happened, really.”

Basch sighed, reaching out to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

His bangs fell over his eyes to hide them. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this worked up over you, over a guy at that, but then again, he was beginning to suspect there was a little more to it than that. “... Okay. So are you gonna go to the party?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll probably go if you come with me, so…” With your free hand, you held onto the hem of his shirt. When he caught sight of the look you had on your face, he stopped breathing all over again. “I can tell something’s wrong with you. You looked really upset just then, and it’s not like you to just snap like that.”

He released you to dig through his hair, loosening the once tight strands pulled back in his ponytail. 

That was right. Since when was he so possessive? 

So jealous? 

He bit his lip and looked positively defeated. As he fixated on the ground to avoid your gaze, he felt your hand gently cup his cheek, forcing him to look up at you. “It’s not like you to suddenly show up out of the blue, either. So tell me, why did you actually come here?”

Basch furrowed his brows and screwed his eyes shut. “... I don’t know. I just wanted to see you. That’s all.” You softened your gaze at that, feeling your chest swell up with warmth. He was always brutally honest, but he was more ambiguous when it came to how he felt. 

So to hear him admit his troubles so easily had you almost worried about him.

As if he sensed this worry, he offered you a small smile of reassurance. 

“Don’t worry about me. I swear there’s nothing wrong.”

Or that was what he wished, at least, because he was far from okay. 

To make things worse, Allen wasn’t patient enough for today because he dropped by two more times after meeting Basch for the first time. Nearly a week had passed since then. This only proved his suspicions—that all he wanted was to get in your pants—and it left Basch positively restless. So restless that he couldn’t leave you alone.

It was finally Friday, and you were in your room browsing for outfits for the night. The man was sleeping like a log in your bed, and after a few unsuccessful attempts at waking him up, you decided to change with him in the room. How he ended up in your sheets wasn’t anything out of character, per se. 

In the previous few days, he followed you around everywhere you went. That, you were perfectly fine with, but sleeping in your bed? He was pushing it. Despite your valiant efforts to get him back into the guest room, it was unparalleled to his own determination. What could you say? He was as stubborn as a mule. That statement would manifest into reality as he stirred awake. 

Sitting up with the worst bed hair you’d ever seen, you found yourself covering your chest instinctively as he stared dead into your eyes with his own drooping ones. “Basch! Sorry, um, I couldn’t wake you so I decided to just…” Blood rushed up to your cheeks as he continued to stare, wordlessly. “Basch?” 

You watched him slide off the mattress and saunter over. Holding your wrists and lowering them, he exposed your bra, but he never gave you the chance to complain. Instead, he loomed his head over yours and glowered at you. “You’re not going.” 

Goosebumps pricked all over your skin when his hot breath fanned over your lips, and you were much too taken aback by his closeness to object. In fact, his face was so close, his nose was brushing against yours. “Wait, what are you--” Your whispers were cut off abruptly when he sealed your mouth with his. 

He was kissing you. Albeit innocently as he parted frequently, pecking your lips over and over again. As gentle as he was, he still left you breathless, but flustered and confused all the same. But you didn’t have the heart to push him off you as your mind raced with questions. Why was he doing this? Had he always felt this way? There was a tenderness in his touch that told you he had. 

But why didn’t he ever tell you? 

When he finally parted, he kept his forehead pressed against yours. “Just tell him you’re not interested.” He frowned. “Say you already have a boyfriend. I’ll pretend if I have to.”  

Because he’d been denying it. 

“But--” Basch kissed you again, leaving a silvery strand of saliva connecting your lips as he parted. Your chest was rising and falling in a fervent manner as you struggled to breathe--the same plight he’d been facing for a while. Frankly speaking, you were at a loss from how much control you let him have over you. But you never tried to push him away. At this point, the throbbing in your chest had completely shattered your resolve. “--why are you kissing me if we’re pretending? There’s nobody here but us.” 

His cheeks reddened before he tugged you along to your bed. Seating you on his lap, he attached his hands to your waist and squeezed it, making you yelp out in surprise. “If you’re letting me kiss you, then how are we pretending?” You blushed at that, realizing you had just as much of a part to blame. 

Leaning in at that, he fanned his breath over your lips. “It just means it’s real.” 

He still wasn’t processing the weight of his actions and just how out of line he was acting. But then again, he never did either of those things when it came to you. And it wasn’t like you were stopping him, either. So really, you were just as guilty for letting things go out of hand. Though you had to wonder if this was how things were supposed to be, especially when you continued kissing him in his lap.

*NSFW content ahead*

Said kissing escalated along with the heat of your bodies, all until he had his tongue in your mouth. 

He never realized how much he’d wanted this until he had you under him, squeezing his neck as he left lovebites all over yours. Then, he made his way down to your shoulder and collarbones, chewing on your flesh until he memorized the taste of you. But he couldn’t say he was satisfied. Not until he truly crossed your boundaries and went all the way. 

That was where this was going, after all.

Rather than going to that party Allen invited you to, you spent the whole night having sex with Basch. To say it was a psychedelic experience was an understatement.

As he held you down to make love to you, letting his arousal curve deep into your walls at every strong thrust he gave, he had you writhing in pleasure so good, the last remnants of your sound mind were completely destroyed. So while you would’ve been fussing about the fact he didn’t use any protection, you couldn’t, not when he fucked you silly.

To him, this was a culmination of everything he wanted. To have you for himself. And this rampant desire was so potent, it inundated him. Tugging apart the strands that held his self-control and reason together, he lost his head. 

You never imagined he’d be so energetic and reckless in bed, even cumming inside you, twice, on purpose, when he was always so high-strung about safety. But as you found yourself on his thighs again, trembling as you sunk down to the base of his cock, you could watch him unravel with all sorts of animated expressions you’d never seen before. 

Desperation, lust, and an aggressive infatuation as he bounced you on his imposing member. Bringing you close so he could bite your ear, you could hear the shivering in his breathing as he held back his moans. “You drive me so fucking crazy sometimes...” He whispered. 

*NSFW content ends*

That was the first time you ever heard him curse, too. So maybe, you really were driving him crazy. This would become more apparent the next morning as he slept in past noon, something he hadn’t done in years. 

And depending on if you’d remember or not, he’d buy you some morning-after pills. 

Because something happening wasn’t a big concern of his. 

In fact, it excited him.

[abstrused]

@lunation

Antonio's words cut through Jo's mind like a hot knife through butter. His gaze, previously locked on a man across the room finally tears away to look into sparkling green eyes. The announcer looks positively delighted, seemingly eating up the negative energy that surely had been pouring off him moments ago, spurred by Antonio's own words.

"You would say that." A sip of his drink and a click of the glass against the bar later and his gaze is drawn once again to the gambler across the way, the one whose lecherous gaze continually lands on the other foreign man. If his teeth clench any harder he is sure that he'll crack a tooth, anger rolling off him in waves, rippling the surface of a calm exterior.

His man. Not by any official means of course— no, no. Simply bound by mutual, and aggressive jealousy. He's sure nothing is more official than that for either of them.

Hazel eyes size up his competition, an air of arrogance surrounding the meathead. Boisterous, loud, and obnoxious. His very being grates against João's nerves. Antonio always had the worst taste in men.

"It's almost as though you do it solely to frustrate me." His gaze sweeps back once again to Antonio and his infuriating face. "I find it hard to imagine a man like that can hold your attention long." Unlike me, his smirk implies.

"The way he looks at you... I'd love nothing more than to meet him in the ring." João can almost see him in his mind's eye, stripped of pride for Antonio to see, crushed beneath a thick heeled boot with no remorse.

"He better not come over here." It's spoken as almost a threat, one directed at both Antonio and what he presumes is a one-night stand... Or soon to be one. "Not if he plans on leaving here intact."

It was the way that João rambled on and off. It was the way that João smirked, with the tautness of muscle, mandible visible under just the right light. It was the way that João looked ready to burst at the seams, to pounce and bite and kick and punch.

Oh, that was the good stuff.

Lazily did Antonio throw a glance at the man. His name was Rodney, a tall, brutish-looking fellow with broad shoulders and a body that’d seen far too much sun. With his crude gestures and cruder comments, his kind were all far too common in the Amphitheatre, wielding all the subtlety of a fist swung. Continually would Antonio feel those bright blue eyes boring into his side, see that smirk out of the corner of his eye—yet he continued to play the oblivious card.

For now.

“Mm,” he hummed lowly, churning the apple of his throat. A slow, leisurely sip of his drink—hard alcohol, straight; his second one for the night. “The way he looks at me, huh?” Antonio leaned back, nigh precarious on the bar stool, as his forearm found the counter and he rolled his tongue over the front of his teeth. “As if you don’t look at me in the same way.”

A stir. A goad. Tickling that angry, angry beast that lurked just beneath, knowing full well it could and would bite back. Sometimes that anger stirred an anger of his own, but most of the time it just made him feel wanted.

“What?” A chuckle, bleeding mirth around the word. “Scared he’s going to take me?”

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 19: Lying Hearts

“How can anyone stand to live in a city like this?” Nami grumbled as the light glinted off of yet another painfully white building. True, the setting sun had lessened the glare slightly, but after an entire afternoon of it, she was developing quite the headache, even with the sunglasses.

Law shrugged and continued walking at a leisurely pace, still unaffected. “I’m sure if you’re born somewhere like this it’s easier, but people can learn to tolerate almost anything given enough time, I suppose.”

“Do you think you’d be able to learn to tolerate bread?”

“I said almost. I’d sooner die of starvation.”

She shook her head with a chuckle but kept pace, following his lead. Instead of heading straight back to the submarine, Law had insisted on a few detours through Atifakuto—partially in case anyone had grown suspicious and decided to follow them, but also to scope out potential escape routes under the guise of sightseeing. Nami, for her part, had been exceedingly helpful in this, mapping out in her head which stairways lead where and pointing out various places to hide. If Law found her compliance suspicious, he didn’t say anything; it was in their best interest to work together, especially with some potentially valuable goods on the line, so her behavior was easily rationalized.

For her, however, there was more than artifacts or even belli at stake. This heist had to go well. She needed Law to trust her enough to open up about why he was so obsessed with Amber Lead. Perhaps if he could do that, she wouldn’t even have to sneak into his quarters to take a look at the ledgers. She could just ask and he’d let her in like a rational human being.

Of course, in order for either of their plans to succeed they needed to know where the vase was. Luckily, the rest of the Hearts hadn’t been sitting idle on the submarine. They’d been investigating every possible gallery, art collector, museum, and auction house their prize could possibly be at. The second they had a lead, they’d call on the mini Den Den Mushi.

Until then, though, Law and Nami were forced to meander about the city, planning and killing time.

“So, while we wait for some intel, what else are you going to buy me?” she asked as they wandered the fourth level. They’d passed quite a few shops, and while most had stocked dull business suits similar to the last store, Nami felt her bags were tragically light. They were in a beautiful-if-blinding city, and she was walking away with only one outfit? What a travesty.

Snorting dismissively, Law glanced down at her with a clear look of are you kidding me? on his face. “Nothing. I told you I was only getting you one outfit. I’m your captain, not your sugar daddy.”

“You know, for a man who wants this little job to go well, you’re not putting in nearly the effort you should,” she quipped, a sly smile on her lips, eyelashes fluttering prettily. “I’m supposed to look professional and put together if I’m gonna pull off being your lovely assistant. That means I need matching shoes and accessories. Maybe a cute leather purse or briefcase to really sell it.”

“If you want those so badly then buy them yourself. Or,” he smirked, halting his pace to turn around and catch her chin between his fingers, tilting her head up towards him as he stepped in close enough so she could feel his body heat, “you earn them by doing certain favors for daddy.”

Her cheeks only pinkened a little at his innuendos while she stuck out her tongue and shoved him away. Last night’s dream wasn’t quite as close to the forefront of her mind anymore, but that didn’t mean his smirk didn’t do things to her she’d rather ignore. “Pass. You should know by now that it takes more than clothes for me to play nice.”

“Mmm, I do. That’s what makes it so much fun,” he purred, gold eyes glinting in wicked amusement. One gloved hand was shoved into his pocket while his free arm slung itself casually over her shoulder as he continued stalking along the fastidiously clean road. “But since you’re currently insisting on being a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man to provide for her, you can instead borrow some shoes from Ikkaku, and she might still have a pair of glasses or something from the time she pretended to be a receptionist at a Naval base.”

Brown eyes widened at his statement. Not because he was suggesting that she borrow clothes or anything, but the bombshell he’d just casually dropped in light of her recent discovery.

“Was this for one of your plans?” she asked, shoulders stiffening.

He shrugged like it was no big deal, though he did give her a curious glance at the way she tensed beneath him. “Yeah. We needed someone on the inside, and they’d put out an advertisement for an attractive female in her early twenties. It’s not like Uni or Penguin could do it.”

“But…holy shit, Law, are you serious?” she hissed, dragging him over to an unoccupied part of the street behind a solitary gated tree so she could scold him in private. There weren’t too many people about, but the last thing they need was to get unwanted attention because they’d caused a scene, even if Law totally deserved to get chewed out at the top of her lungs for being such an asshole. “Ikkaku has Marine brothers who want her dead and you sent her into the lion’s den? What the fuck?!”

Caught off-guard by her anger, Law’s eyebrows shot up briefly before furrowing. “She told you about them?”

Damn. In her shock and anger on her friend’s behalf, she’d forgotten that this was a subject she wasn’t technically supposed to know. But instead of admitting guilt, she doubled down and threw on her best poker face.

“Yeah. She told me,” she lied easily. Too easily. It came as naturally as it had back in the days she’d been working under Arlong, getting close to pirates by lying through her teeth and then robbing them blind. How many crews and captains had she deceived before Luffy? Nami had honestly lost count, but once she’d joined up with the Straw Hats, lying to a supposed ally hadn’t been quite as instinctual.

But this isn’t Luffy, and Law’s keeping way more secrets than I am, she rationalized. It’s just a little white lie anyway. He’d be way more pissed at Shachi and Penguin for telling me. I’m looking after those guys.

Law’s expression hardened, and for a moment she wondered if he’d seen through her bluff. She didn’t think she’d gotten too rusty in the lying department, but Law was smart and distrusting in general, so she couldn’t quite tell. Trepidation hung heavy in the air as she waited for him to speak, mind going a mile a minute coming up with new lies and explanations to appease him. Worse came to worst, she could throw the guys under the bus, even if she didn’t really want to, but they were his best friends, so Law would doubtlessly be more forgiving towards them, right?

Thankfully, it seemed his anger came from a completely different place, as he snarled quietly through clenched teeth, “Nami-ya, I am, as you have pointed out rather frequently in the past, a control freak. Do you really think I would devise a plan that required sending my top mechanic into a Marine base if there was even a chance she could be recognized? Especially by her utter shit of a brother?”

She flinched at the vitriol in his voice. It seemed she’d touched a nerve, and unless she wanted to lose all the progress she’d worked for, she knew it was best to back down. “Sorry. You’re right.”

“I’ll accept your apology if you tell me what prompted her to tell you,” he stated, crossing his arms. “It’s not information she makes widely known, even to those who are permanent members of my crew.”

Well. At least this was easy enough to justify, and she’d be doing both Law and Ikkaku a favor, right? Sure, the guys would obviously tell him later, but being the first to warn him might earn her a few more crumbs of trust. “There was an article in the paper about Marine reinforcements coming to the Grand Line. Ushi was interviewed. He seemed pretty intent on taking down the Heart Pirates.”

Law froze, his frown deepening into a dark sneer. The tic in his jaw and the way his fists clenched reminded her of his reaction to Ikkaku having been attacked on Grimm. “That fucker will stay away from Ikkaku if he’s got any brains in him.”

“You’re pretty protective of her,” she said. Sure, he’d perhaps phrased his defense in a way that implied his priority was the plan, it was clear from the hiss in his voice that Ikkaku’s safety had been genuinely considered.

The brim of his hat hid his eyes as he stated, “I’m protective of all my crew. She’s just…it’s hard to find submarine engineers, let alone ones as skilled as her. Ikkaku’s hard to replace.”

Well that stinks to high heaven of bullshit, she thought. Sure, the Surgeon of Death had a rightly-earned cruel reputation, but he’d shown time and again his crew meant a lot to him. Stepping in close, she used her finger to lift his hat enough to see his expression unobstructed. “Is that why you let her sass you? Because if she walked you’d be dead in the water?”

The gold orbs glared down at her, though the held no heat. “Everyone on the crew is a vital component. Like gears in a well-oiled machine. You’ve gotta take care of them to make sure they don’t break.”

When Nami merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow, he sighed, body deflating slightly. “Look, Nami-ya, everyone on my crew, we’ve all got shit in our pasts. Some have overcome it. Some still carry the scars. Ikkaku…hers is one of the few that’s actively still trying to get her. So yeah, maybe I’m a bit more protective, but it’s for a damn good reason.”

Ok, now that was a fair point. “I’m surprised you haven’t just killed him.”

“Oh, I want to,” he snarled. “No brother should try to hurt their siblings. They’re supposed to look after them. The only reason Ushi-ya still draws breath is because Ikkaku begged me to spare his pathetic life.”

It suddenly dawned on Nami that, despite his criticizing Luffy for not being more bloodthirsty, Law was…surprisingly merciful in his own ways, too. He didn’t murder Ikkaku’s brother, despite having clear reason to, just because she asked. He rescued Jean Bart from a life of slavery despite not knowing him. And while she didn’t fully understand the Ope Ope no Mi’s powers, she wondered if his cuts didn’t draw blood because he didn’t want them to?

She wasn’t sure if he had a complexity addiction or if he genuinely wanted to minimize bloodshed, but once again another side of the incredibly fascinating man had been revealed.

Taking a deep breath to calm his anger, he gave Nami a sadistic smile. “Doesn’t mean I let him off the hook with a sternly-worded warning, though. Wanna know what I did to him the last time we met?”

Nami turned a bit green as she remembered Jinzo’s still-beating heart in his hands. Complex and caring towards his crew or not, he was still a twisted bastard. “Fuck no!”

Briefly he pouted at not getting to regale her with the gory details before shrugging. “Pity. It was quite the eventful evening. In fact, it was also the night of mine and Drake-ya’s first kiss.”

“How the hell are those two things connected?!”

“Well, I had to distract him somehow. He was guarding my poor mechanic like a dragon would a virtuous princess.”

Before she could demand more details, or even snort at the idea of Ikkaku being virtuous, the sound of the mini Den Den Mushi reached their ears, interrupting the conversation.

Looking around to make sure there weren’t any eavesdroppers, Law pulled out the little snail phone and clicked down on the top. “Guessing you’ve got something for me?”

“I do,” the snail answered, and Nami recognized the faint accent that indicated they were speaking to Cousteau. “Only one place that specializes in North Blue history. Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. It’s an auction house and gallery on the fifth level, a block away from the Elevate Deliverer Restoration Church.”

“Well that’s a needlessly long name,” he quipped, rolling his eyes. Mentally, Nami had to agree, though it also sounded vaguely familiar. “At least that makes it easier to find. Anything else I should know? Other landmarks, nearby guard stations, that sort of thing?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Cousteau replied, “No station, though there would probably be at least a few guards wandering around at night. It’s, uh, right by a fountain. Blessings from the White City.”

Nami’s eyes widened a little. Oh. Now she remembered. That had been the church with the huge stained-glass windows. The one in her book, by the tribute to Flevance.

“…I see.”

The little snail chewed its lip, clearly concerned. “Captain, if you want, I can do all the surveillance—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, tone sharp before smoothing out, “I saw it earlier. In fact, I’m glad it’s so close. Nami-ya and I will check out the gallery. We’re nearby and I’d rather see it with my own eyes to get the lay of the land. Unless anyone else has a better lead, you and the others can head back to the ship.”

“Understood, sir. Anything else you need?” he asked, sounding relieved.

“Just tell Clione I might have a job for him later on, so don’t make any evening plans.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

The call ended, and Nami peered up at Law, expecting signs of the same darkness that had crossed his face when they’d visited the fountain earlier. Instead, his face was totally blank, staring down at the tiny snail, expressionless.

Somehow, that was far, far more unnerving.

“Law?” she asked, touching his arm hesitantly.

As if awoken from a trance he shook his head before smirking down at her. “Well, hope you don’t mind one last detour before heading back to the ship? I know it’s more stairs but look on the bright side; at this rate, the definition of your calf muscles will be a thing of beauty.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, turning on his heels and heading towards the direction of the stairs to the next level. Frowning, she began to doubt whether or not this was all a good idea. She didn’t know exactly what his deal was, but she really felt like he was too close to this. But she had the feeling trying to talk him out of it would be an exercise in futility, and would set her back far more than any lie she might spin.

Oh well, she sighed internally, jogging to catch up, so long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s sensible enough to keep a cool head, no matter what his problem is. It’ll be fine.

While it wasn’t far, it took longer than either of them would have expected to actually find Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. Mainly because it was a surprisingly nondescript building compared to the opulent churches and museums nearby. Honestly, based on the exterior, one could easily have passed it by. Like everything else the building was pristinely white, the windows boasting small arches over them and flower boxes containing white impatiens. Really, the most impressive thing about it was the marble plaque out front boasting the company’s name in gold leaf.

But the two pirates didn’t really care about the appearance; it was what was inside that counted. That, and the information board out front, which stated in bold, black letters that there would be a showing and auction of North Blue artworks at 8pm that evening.

“Why don’t you just Scan the place, grab the vase, and walk away? Seems like that would be easy compared to putting on this charade?” Nami asked, eyeing the building. It was hardly Harpin’s mansion; it would take almost no effort for Law to use his powers to steal every item of value inside it, replacing artifacts, paintings, and money with pebbles and potted plants with a mere flick of his fingers, then teleporting them away to safety.

Really, if he weren’t such an ass, Trafalgar Law would be a thief’s dream partner.

Of course, he was an ass, so he gave her a look that implied he considered her question to be phenomenally stupid. “Because there’s no guarantee that the vase is even in there—for all I know it’s being kept in a secondary location until the actual event for security or health reasons. It is a relic from a city that suffered a notorious death toll both before and after the World Government had quarantined it,” he explained lowly. “On top of that, my Room would draw too much attention, so if it’s not in there, we’ll have blown our whole cover and probably the operation.”

Though disappointed that they couldn’t just whisk it away with his powers, she conceded that he had a point. Versatile and useful as they were, the Ope Ope no Mi’s abilities did have their drawbacks. Actually infiltrating the auction house was a safer move.

Yet for a moment, she saw Law glare at the building, as if he were equally frustrated that they couldn’t just grab their prize and go. Perhaps even a great mastermind like him sometimes wished to take the direct path. “At least we can be sure it’ll be presented at this auction,” he reassured, almost as much to himself as her as his hand rested on Nami’s lower back while he escorted her away. “Makes it easier to come up with a plan and contingencies when I actually know the target. My crew did good.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger in thought. She supposed he was right, and the pride in his voice when he mentioned the Hearts’ contribution…well, she knew better than to argue with that. Seemed the lesson he learned on the last island was sticking. “Still too bad we don’t have blueprints like Harpin’s house, though.”

“It can’t be helped. That was a job I’d been planning for months. This is more…spontaneous. Why? Scared and looking to back out?” he asked, glancing down at her with a challenging grin.

Nami scoffed. She was a thief that specialized in robbing pirates. Sure, she was a scaredy-cat, but when treasure of some kind was at stake, there were few risks she wouldn’t take. “Not a chance. Just pointing out that we’re going in more blind than last time.”

“Maybe, but at least our prize will be out in the open and not in the home of a former Marine with tentacles. Hell, we might even get it legally.”

“Law,” she started, brow furrowing. She wasn’t scared, but she did have a reasonable concern, especially with how intent he seemed on this one item. “What are we going to do if we don’t win the vase?”

The pair stopped by the Flevance fountain, Law taking a long moment to stare solemnly at the beautiful white angels. Without a word he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin, pressing it to his lips before flipping it into the water.

When he turned back to her, his gold eyes were as hard as the statues’ and twice as cold.

“Simple; we take it from whoever did.”

XXX

Hidden in a small cove on an unpopulated section of Atifakuto’s coast, the sight of the Polar Tang’s sunny yellow hull was a welcome relief after a whole day of the city’s stark white walls. Law seemed to agree as his tense posture relaxed into a comfortable slouch, even giving a few of the guys a small grin when they called out to them. To Nami, of course, the submarine was still far from the Sunny and thus would never be home, but she couldn’t help but smile at Law’s reaction. The Dark Doctor really did have some softness deep down.

Of course, that didn’t last long, as the moment they were within the safety of the cargo bay he was once more all business. “Dinner is in an hour. Rest up, brush up on your notes, do whatever you need to prepare for the auction tonight; I’ve got a few more dominoes to put in place,” Law stated. He’d been silent for most of the walk back, though Nami attributed that to him mentally filing through all the information they now had and formulating his plan. Much as she missed and loved Luffy, having a captain who didn’t just go rushing in like an idiot was a nice change of pace.

That didn’t mean she appreciated his tone, though. “Say please,” she quipped, hip jutting out. She might have decided to be more compliant for the sake of gaining his trust, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him boss her around.

Besides, if she were too accommodating, he’d probably grow suspicious and then she’d be right back at square one.

He scowled but apparently decided it would be a waste of time to argue. They were on a tight schedule, after all, so her attitude would have to be tolerated. For now. “Please,” he grumbled before marching off, beckoning Clione to follow him. The biologist glanced between the two, bewildered, but smartly said nothing before chasing after his captain.

Flashing a self-satisfied grin at Law’s retreating back, Nami practically skipped to her quarters. Even though they weren’t as prepared as she’d like, so far, things were going well. Perhaps they couldn’t just use Law’s powers to swipe the vase, but by obtaining it through legal means, they wouldn’t have the authorities after them, which would be nice. Besides, it wasn’t her money that would be spent at the auction.

Her research of the North Blue had taught her a few things, including just how valuable things from Flevance were. After all, things made from the white ore had been in high-demand during the city’s heyday; now that it was in ruins, any remaining artifacts would surely triple in price. And, admittedly, if that fountain had been anything to go by, the vase could very well be extremely beautiful. Something any art collector or historian might want for themselves.

Once more, she wondered why the hell Law wanted it. He collected coins, not art, so she doubted it would be something he wanted just for the heck of it. What was his obsession with Flevance—

That train of thought was derailed when Nami walked into her room. She blinked then rubbed her eyes, certain her vision was still messed up from the sun, because Ikkaku was still sitting at her desk, working on some little device, practically in the same position as that morning. Really, the only difference was the lack of towel around her head, though her curly hair was a tangled bird’s nest.

“Have you even moved today?” Nami exclaimed loudly, flabbergasted.

The mechanic jumped a few inches out of her chair, a pen cartwheeling through the air before falling back onto the surface of the desk with a clatter. Apparently since she’d had the room to herself, she hadn’t felt the need to put the earplugs back in, leaving her vulnerable to Nami’s loud voice. “Damn, girl, you scared me,” Ikkaku said with a breathy laugh. She glanced around, noticing the time on the clock and the fact that her hair had dried completely. “Guess I was in the zone.”

“You haven’t been working all day, have you?” Nami asked, plopping her shopping bag on her bed. “At least tell me you had lunch.”

“Sounding an awful lot like Law there,” she teased, pushing away from her desk to stretch. There was an audible pop from her back, and her dark eyes closed in relief. “Like me, too. The boys and I are always bugging a certain workaholic captain to eat something and not subsist solely on coffee and aspirin. But to answer your question, yes, I did have lunch.” She pointed at an empty plate that had been shoved into the far corner of the desk, a few grains of rice stuck to the surface. “Bepo brought me some onigiri.”

“Good. If you didn’t, I’d be dragging you into the galley and force-feeding you a sandwich, then charging you a cooking and inconvenience fee.”

Snorting, Ikkaku cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, further releasing the tension sitting hunched over in one spot for hours had built up. “Dinner’s soon enough; even if I hadn’t eaten, I could have waited. And good luck making a sandwich with no bread on board.” Despite her dismissal tone, though, she gave a wry grin. “But thanks for caring, I guess, even if it does come with a price tag.”

“What are friends for?” Nami shrugged with a smile that was a little forced. It was such an alien feeling, this sudden awkwardness. Since first arriving on the Tang, she and Ikkaku had gotten on like a house on fire. It was almost inevitable, being the two women on the ship surrounded by men dealing with that insanity together. Hell, even if that hadn’t been the case, Ikkaku had practically sacrificed herself for her back at the club on Grimm. A companion like that was more than she’d even dared to dream of before she’d met Luffy.

Was it really right for Nami to act like she didn’t know about her brother? Should she just tell her that the guys told her about Ushi? Really, what was the point of keeping it a secret? It wasn’t that Nami thought she’d slip up and spill the beans—lying was her specialty, after all—but Ikkaku wasn’t some mark or stranger. She was her friend.

Hell, even if they were on opposite crews, she’d even dare to call her nakama.

The issue resolved itself, however, when the other woman’s expression turned a little melancholy. Ikkaku sighed as she rested her cheek on her fist, her other hand idly playing with the pen. “Heh. Funny, I used to ask myself that question a lot when I was younger. I didn’t really have friends back on my home island. I lived with my Gramps in a lighthouse, so besides the occasional trip to town, it was a pretty isolated life.”

“What about your brothers?” Nami asked, masking her interest by taking her purchases out of the bag so they wouldn’t wrinkle before the auction. A swell of relief surged through her. If Ikkaku talked about Ushi herself, the whole charade of pretending not to know about him wouldn’t even be necessary! She just had to carefully press for the right crumbs of information, maybe even offer up a couple tidbits about her own life in exchange. No big deal. Tit for tat, right? “Nojiko was my best friend growing up. Hell, probably my only friend until Luffy came along.”

A dark look crossed Ikkaku’s face. “Yeah, well, Nojiko on her worst day was probably a way better sibling than all of them combined.”

“I don’t think you’ve talked about them much. I basically just know that they exist and said you wouldn’t really make it as an engineer because you’re a girl.”

A long sigh escaped her lips. “That’s…the nice version. Didn’t want to unload my shitty childhood on you, especially since yours sounded worse. I mean, my island was never taken over by pirates, and I didn’t work for the guy who murdered my mom.”

Well, that was certainly true, but then again, people with healthy, normal childhoods seldom became pirates. Or at least, those that did rarely lasted long on such cutthroat seas. Nami should have realized there was more to the mechanic’s past than some run-of-the-mill misogyny. “Maybe, but I don’t mind. We’ve all gone through some rough shit, right? We wouldn’t be in this line of work otherwise.”

“True. I just…I guess I just like to pretend he doesn’t exist most of the time.”

“He?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

Ikkaku’s calloused hand dropped the pen to instead clench into a tight fist, and there was a haunted look in her dark eyes as she stared off into space. “Ushi. He’s the oldest. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid of him. Spent our childhood making our other brothers use me as a punching bag. When he wasn’t doing that, he gave me almost hourly reminders that I was a burden on the family, that no one really loved me, that I’d never amount to anything.” There was a hitch in her breath and a pause, and Nami noticed her close her eyes tightly for a moment. As if she were fighting back tears. It was a look she’d never expected to see on the tough, vibrant woman’s face. “Then, when I was seven, he tried to kill me.”

“What?!” Nami exclaimed, dropping her blazer to the floor in shock.

“Yeah. Joras had a huge fucking forest, and he led me into it to look for mushrooms or some shit. Can’t remember. Next thing I know, he’s shoved me into a pit, and by the time I’d climbed out, he was long gone and it was night. I think…I think it was supposed to be my grave, ‘cause it was really fucking deep. Or at least it seemed that way. Maybe I’m misremembering.”

Somehow, Nami doubted that. Sure, memories could get warped with age and fear, but some details remained solid for the rest of a person’s life. “But, you got out, right? And I’m sure your parents must have been worried sick!” She could almost picture it. A young Ikkaku, sticks and leaves caught in her messy curls, knees and elbows scraped, face covered in dirt and tears, frightened but once more able to smile when she was finally found, her mother and father scooping her into their arms, scolding her for worrying them but just so relieved she was safe…

At least, that’s what Bellemere or Mister Genzo would have done if Nami had gone missing.

From the bitter laugh that escaped her throat, Ikkaku hadn’t been so fortunate. “I spent three days wandering around those fucking woods, scared and cold and wondering if I was gonna die out there. My parents didn’t even notice I was gone.” After a long moment of silence, her fist unclenched and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. “Gramps found me, though. When I didn’t come home after two days and a storm rolled in, my brothers Nausagi and Fukuro ran two miles to the lighthouse to tell him what Ushi had done. Maybe they realized he’d gone too far. Or they were scared I’d come back as a vengeful zombie. Either way, Gramps rescued me and demanded custody. Mama and Pops were glad to hand me over. One less mouth to feed, and I wouldn’t be causing their Future Marine Hero any more trouble.”

“That’s…that’s horrible.” And yet Nami could tell she was getting the abridged version of the story. “Tell me your grandfather was a better guardian.”

Despite the childhood trauma she’d just confessed to, Ikkaku merely shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yeah. He was. Gramps was crazy, but he loved me and taught me how to fight. Told me to never lose my smile, ‘cause that’s my best protection against a world that’ll try to break me.”

“Bellemere said something similar to me and Nojiko. ‘Whatever happens, never lose your ability to laugh. If you can survive, happy times, lots of ‘em, will come your way’.”

“Smart lady.” She tried to casually run her fingers through her hair, only to find them caught in the tangled knots. She let out a light chuckle at her predicament and added, “I think she and Gramps would have gotten along pretty well. Well, assuming she liked salty former smugglers who had the gumption to threaten Law with a shot gun. Not that he didn’t deserve it a little.”

Nami had to smile at that, and she could only imagine what he’d said that had nearly gotten him shot. It was definitely something snarky, a shit-eating grin on his face while he provoked a protective grandfather just because he could.

Noticing Ikkaku’s hair situation, she abandoned her suit to instead pick up a wide-toothed comb. “Well, I’m not sure about Bellmere, but I’d certainly love to meet him.”

“Of course you would.” Leaning back in the chair, she allowed Nami to carefully put her thick curls to rights. “How was shopping? Boss show you the blinding sights of the city?”

“It was…enlightening,” she said cautiously. There was still so much to sort out, and every time she thought she had an answer to one of her questions, four more popped up in its place.

Grabbing the pen she’d been playing with earlier, Ikkaku handed it to her over her shoulder. “Here; I made you something, since I doubt you’ll be able to bring your Clima-Tact with you. Kinda why I was so focused—I wanted it to be ready by tonight.”

Curious, Nami inspected the item. It was a plain black ballpoint pen maybe a bit longer than her hand. There was an almost unnoticeable jolly roger engraved into the middle, and she ran her thumb over it idly. “You spent the whole afternoon making me a pen? I could have just as easily brought my stylus.”

“Oh, but a stylus is only good for writing. This is so much more useful. ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’, right? Click the top.”

She did so, and instead of an ink-filled nub, a small syringe, similar to an epi-pen, popped out. Her eyes widened in realization as Ikkaku explained, “Inside’s a powerful tranquilizer. Should knock any fool out in minutes if injected into the bloodstream. Takes longer if it’s ingested. It’s non-lethal to humans, so it should be safe to use on anyone you’re looking to knock out. Assuming they aren’t really Fishmen in disguise.”

“Why? Does it react differently for them?”

She grimaced. “Yeah. Severe allergic reaction. Anaphylactic shock typically. So, unless you want that on your conscience, humans only.”

Tucking the pen away for later, Nami nodded in understanding and went back to combing her hair. “Gotcha. Doubt it’ll be a problem, though. Jean Bart said this place is pretty humans-only.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s impossible for someone to have that kind of bloodline. If it’s diluted through a few generations, a lot of the time you can hide it and pass for human.”

“Hmmm, hadn’t thought of that.”

There was a moment where Nami could tell she was mulling something over. Even faced away from her, Ikkaku wasn’t hard to read, and it was only a matter of time before she voiced whatever question was on her mind.

While she waited, the ginger took the time to appreciate the texture of Ikkaku’s hair, combing out each curl individually so it wouldn’t frizz. The thick, black locks were coarser than her own, yet surprisingly soft despite her hard life at sea. Hair maintenance was extremely difficult living on the ocean, the salt and fluctuating weather of the Grand Line wreaking havoc on Nami’s much finer strands. And while Ikkaku was far more feminine than one would expect upon first meeting her, in the time they’d roomed together, she didn’t seem to put much more extensive care into her shiny locks than some leave-in conditioner.

Guess she’s just got some good genetics, Nami thought appreciatively. Either that or she’s hiding some amazing shampoo formula, and damn if she is I’ll never forgive her!

When Ikkaku at last broke her silence, the hesitation in her voice was palpable. “Hey, it was a Fishman who held you prisoner all those years, right? You ever…blame all Fishmen for what he did?”

It was an unexpected question, but a fair one, Nami supposed. Arlong had committed a crime so heinous she knew she’d never forgive him, and she knew there were plenty of people, especially ones who spent years abused by such a monster, who would project that hatred onto an entire race. But why even ask?

“I…not really. I mean, I can’t say I never lumped them all together in my head, since Arlong and his crew were my only baseline for Fishmen for a long time.” She bit her lip, thinking. “But that was when I was a kid. My view of things was a lot more black-and-white, mostly because I was bitter at my situation. As I got older, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was stupid to think all Fishmen were like him. He was the one who hurt me, so he’s the only one who should get my hate.”

“So, you don’t hate them all?”

She shook her head. “Nah. Hell, I was even able to forgive a member of his crew. I’m sure you heard about how Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon?”

Ikkaku craned her neck up to look at her, dark eyes widening in shocked understanding. “Yeah? You saying the Fishman he defended—”

“One of Arlong’s crew. Hatchi. Like all of them, he hurt me too, but it was on his captain’s orders, and he clearly regretted it.” Well, it had been a bit more complex than that. Hell, when they’d first encountered him again, she’d nearly gone back on her promise to Camie to rescue him. Even if he hadn’t abused her like the others, he’d still been complacent in it. Still destroyed villagers homes, held her hostage, attacked the Navy ships that tried to come to the rescue. He hadn’t been blameless in the least. She would have had every right to demand that he be left to be killed or enslaved. That it was karma come to bite him in the ass.

Yet what had swayed her, apart from Camie’s determination to save him, was her own friends’ reactions to seeing him again. Those who knew her past had immediately been ready to turn the ship around and leave Hatchi to his fate. Of course she’d expected Sanji to be her knight in shining armor and want nothing to do with someone who had abused a lady, even by proxy. Zoro and Usopp had been a bit more surprising, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. They knew what she’d been put through. Had fought and bled for her. Despite their sometimes heated disagreements, Nami knew she could count on them to always have her back.

The one who shocked her the most was Luffy. He might have flip-flopped between reason and his stomach, but the fact was, her loving, forgiving captain had actually held a grudge on her behalf. Hatchi and Arlong hadn’t done anything to him personally, but his nakama had suffered, and that wasn’t something he’d easily set aside. That genuine show of solidarity and loyalty to her had melted what ice had still been around her heart, which allowed her to truly forgive the octopus Fishman.

Yes, Hatchi had hurt her, but her hatred was solely reserved for Arlong, not his underlings who genuinely felt remorse.

“I’m not a saint or anything but hating Hatchi…it seemed pointless. He wasn’t the one who killed my mother. And blaming all Fishmen for the actions of one seemed pretty shitty. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill Arlong if I had the chance, though.”

Nami could practically feel the tension drain from Ikkaku’s shoulders, and she couldn’t hide her smile before she looked away. “That’s good to know. That asshole deserves it, from what you’ve told me. He and my brother should meet, then get sacrificed to some kind of horrible sea monster. Plenty of hungry Sea Kings out there to feed.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of guys,” Nami giggled as she ran the comb through the last strand of hair. “Though, that might be cruel to the Sea King. Poor thing deserves a better meal than shit like them.”

“True. We’ll just have to think of something else then. We can ask Law; he’s always got great suggestions.”

A shudder ran down her spine, though she had to admit, it wasn’t as horrified as she’d like. She justified it with the fact that Arlong was scum who deserved whatever painful death the likes of Law might propose. So did Ushi, from the sounds of things. Though, Law had said Ikkaku had begged him not to kill her brother. Why? Did she still care about Ushi due to their familial ties? Or was there something else?

Maybe she just doesn’t want her brother’s death on her conscience, Nami thought, putting the comb away and proceeding to raid the closet for shoes. I just hope that doesn’t come back to bite her someday.

XXX

Dinner on the Tang was certainly livelier and noisier than breakfast. Mainly because the crew didn’t have to walk on eggshells while waiting for Law to get his caffeine hit. Most of the time about a dozen different conversations could be heard, utensils clattered against plates, insults were tossed about, and laughter filled the air. But at the moment, the whole galley was silent save for Nami, who was telling the Heart Pirates—save for a few who’d been sent out on last-minute errands—all about her crew’s wild adventure on Skypiea.

“…so, after Luffy beat the crap out of him, Enel flew off to the moon in his gold airship, and we escaped the island with the help of an octopus balloon, our ship loaded with treasure!”

There was a pregnant pause as the Hearts stared at her in a mix of awe and disbelief. She’d had their undivided attention ever since Law announced that the Straw Hats had found Noland’s lost city of gold, all but demanding she tell the tale and not skimp on the details.

Naturally, those details made the story even more bizarre, practically unbelievable, but she gave them what they asked for, so they couldn’t complain. Even Law’s jaw had dropped once or twice in incredulity. Mostly at the part where Luffy’d been eaten by a giant snake and thus been hidden from Enel’s senses.

Finally, a few of the crew managed to find their voices.

“An orangutan nearly wrecked your ship with singing?” Shachi asked, face utterly baffled.

Penguin grabbed his hat and smacked him over the head with it. “That’s what you’re stuck on? That’s from way back in the beginning of the story!”

The ginger punched him in the shoulder in retaliation, which quickly devolved into a childish slap fight. “Well it’s weird, ok?”

“Weirder than Straw Hat punching Kami or the knock-up stream business or the ship that flew to the moon?”

“Yeah! You ever met an orangutan that could sing?!”

“No, but that’s not the point!”

“You met Monte Blac Cricket?” Ermine interrupted, eyes so wide the whites could be seen even under the rim of their hat, though their mouth quickly split into a smile. “Holy shit, I’d wondered what had happened to him!”

“Wasn’t he your friend or something?” Seiuchi asked through a mouth full of rice.

They shook their head, looking a little wistful, a faint blush rising to their cheeks. “Just a neighbor. The people of Lvneel were dicks to his family and anyone who associated with them didn’t get treated much better. But I always thought there had to be some truth to Noland’s story.”

“Because a city of gold is so fantastical it’s gotta be real?” Nami asked, amused. She’d half-expected everyone to laugh at her like the people on Jaya when she’d asked about Sky Island—she’d even glossed over that part, finding no reason to recap such a blow to her pride. Yet instead, they’d been respectful, even entranced by her tale. It seemed to help that she’d been able to fill in a few blanks with what she remembered from Noland’s ledger, thus adding credibility to the man himself instead of just imagining the lying fool the king’s slander had reduced him to.

Usopp would probably love these guys, she thought fondly. Not that they’d likely believe his fantastical lies, but they’d probably at least let him spin his yarns to his heart’s content.

“Because you don’t tell a king about a city of gold unless you’ve got something to show for it,” Uni interjected wisely, ladling some more curry onto her plate. He paused to smile at her with his eyes, the bottom half of his face still distinctly covered by his bandana despite it being dinnertime. This close, Nami couldn’t help but try to subtly look for signs of scarring, and in fact could spot a line of slightly-paler skin peeking out just over the edge. “That, and history’s rarely all that accurate. Full of lies and twisted to suit a certain narrative.”

“That’s the World Government way. I’m sure we’ll see plenty of it tonight,” Law stated, leaning back in his chair as he munched on some onigiri. The bulge in his cheek might have been comical, but the glint in his eye was humorless. “Can’t wait to hear the dumbass assumptions people make about us Northerners.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed throughout the room, though an angry tic formed on Nami’s forehead.

“Are you saying the stuff you had me study is going to be a load of crap?” she demanded, pointing her finger accusingly. Of course she knew history was skewed at best, but she’d spent days cramming! Had weird sexual dreams about him because of it!

Yes she was blaming the book for that and no one could stop her.

He shrugged and took another bite of rice, unbothered by her irritation. “It’s the information you’ll need to be able to regurgitate if anyone asks you about the North.”

“Yeah,” Penguin chimed in, nodding sagely. He and Shachi had finally been pulled apart by Jean Bart and had resumed eating like nothing had happened. “These people aren’t interested in the truth. They just want to feel superior to the ‘uneducated masses’.”

“Buncha pretentious pricks,” Shachi sniggered, balancing a spoon on his upper lip. “Bet they’d have a fucking fit if they found out El Dorodo’s not only real, but in the fucking sky!”

“I mean, can’t say I’d blame them,” Jude grumbled, playing a bit with his food like a grumpy child. “I figured we’d be the ones to find it, but this whole time we’ve been sailing around in a submarine for nothing!”

“You got something to say about my ship?” Ikkaku snapped, glaring at her crewmate. Behind her, Crozier, Cousteau, and Ermine made slashing motions across their throats, silently reminding him that disparaging the Polar Tang in any way in front of its chief engineer was a sure death sentence.

Before he could say anything, Uni thwapped him on the forehead with the spoon, apparently taking just as much offense. “How can you say it’s been for nothing—we’ve found tons of cool shit down here! May not have been El Dorado, but there have been some amazing sunken cities. And fish! We’ve discovered more aquatic animals than any other ocean explorer,” he pointed out excitedly, Cousteau nodding in agreement. “I mean, we’ve seen deep-sea fish not recorded in any book! Extracted hallucinogenic venom from puffer fish! Taken samples of bioluminescent plankton! We’ve seen octopi punch fish!”

“You ever figure out why they do that?” Shachi asked, cocking his head.

“Best I can figure? Spite.”

As weird as this little tangent was, Nami found herself giggling a bit at how excited Uni was. She didn’t know him too well, given how he was one of the quieter, more reserved members of the crew, but it was endearing to see him so animated and giddy as he discussed marine life.

“Plus, it’s cool to study navigational currents and everything, and underwater topography. The maps I can make from that kind of intel are really good,” Bepo added, twiddling his claws a bit beside her.

“Right! And if that’s still not enough to convince you, who needs a city of gold when you can get your hands on more sunken treasure than most pirates see in their lifetimes?” Uni asked, puffing out his chest.

She couldn’t help it—Nami’s eyes lit up with belli signs at the thought of how many sunken ships the submarine probably came across, all that gold theirs for the taking. Most treasure was basically lost once it hit the bottom of the ocean, but the Hearts’ ship and diving equipment turned the ocean floor into their personal piggy bank.

It seemed Jude had the same thought. “You’re right, you’re right,” he conceded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s a great ship, and we’ve definitely found more than a city’s worth of loot—and yes the fish are cool Uni put the spoon away—but it’s still annoying to find out that we’ve been searching the wrong place this whole time.”

“Eh, happens to every pirate crew,” Jean Bart said, sipping his drink. “You find a treasure map only to discover the gold’s already dug up. Same with legends of lost cities. The fact that the Straw Hats actually found El Dorado and came away with a profit just means they’ve got the Devil’s luck on their side.”

“Or the favor of some god. Probably not that Enel guy, though,” Shachi said with a smirk. “And hopefully nothing from Joras, either.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the crew at that, though Ikkaku looked more uncomfortable than amused. Nami wasn’t the only one to catch that, though, as Uni reproachfully smacked the side of his head with the spoon.

“Dude. Don’t joke about the eldritch horror gods, yeah?”

“Sorry,” the ginger said, blushing slightly as he wiped away the curry splattered across his face.

“Eldritch horror gods?” Nami asked, recoiling at the thought. What the fuck?! Joras sounded vaguely familiar and given the context she guessed it had to be someplace in the North Blue, but she sure as hell didn’t recall reading anything about that! Was this something related to Northern culture, or were the guys just fucking with her?

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Nami-ya,” Law stated with a smirk, though she didn’t miss the glare he sent Shachi’s way. “We’ve been sailing under the ocean for over five years and I’ve yet to see a sleeping god who can turn you mad with terror.”

“No, just an underwater ruin or two that talks about him,” Ikkaku muttered, picking at her food.

Underwater ruins with tales of sleeping gods? Sounds like something Robin would be interested in, Nami thought, nervous sweat running down her neck. Not that she’d be able to blame her. Sure, the archeologist was macabre as hell, but Nami could appreciate her thirst for knowledge, creepy or not. Who knew what history and cultures had been lost to the seas? Maybe there were even Poneglyphs down at the bottom of the ocean!

Damn. Robin and Law would probably get along great. She wasn’t sure if she was frightened or comforted by this thought.

Uni seemed to notice her unease and patted her shoulder. “We’ve seen some strange stuff down there, but nothing more dangerous than Sea Kings. Which, I mean, aren’t exactly friendly guppies, but they’ll leave us be. The Tang’s Seastone coating and electrical defenses ensure that.”

Though she still found the whole concept horrifying, she was appreciated how hard Uni was trying to keep the peace and not make things needlessly frightening for her. The whole crew had a morbid sense of humor, but while she’d mostly adapted, she still found this whole conversation creepy. It made her feel a little guilty for wanting to pry into his business. Yeah, it was annoying to know the crew was hiding stuff from her, but Uni deserved a little privacy, right?

“Yeah, and if there were anything more, Uni’s fish buddies would warn us ahead of time!” Malamute added.

“Fish buddies?” Nami asked, eyebrows lifting to her hairline in surprise. So much for respecting his privacy. “Wait, can you talk to fish?”

The man in question stiffened beside her. “I, uh, I can understand fish a little,” he said, looking nervous. His large hands twisted the napkin in his lap, and he refused to look at her. “It’s a Haki thing.”

“Haki can do that?” she asked, surprised.

“Observation Haki can do a lot of things, and Uni’s the best at it on the ship,” Law cut in harshly, glare brokering no argument. “It’s a skill that’s saved our asses plenty of times.”

Nami blanched at his defensive tone. “Hey, I’ll take your word for it, but you don’t have to act like I insulted his mother or something.”

“It’s ok, Law,” Uni said, shrugging a bit, though his face seemed to sink a little further into his bandana. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it. It’s a fair question, and it is a weird talent.”

“It’s not weird. It’s fucking useful as hell and I won’t hear anyone belittling my crew.”

“I’d never belittle him—” Nami snapped, starting to stand up to give Law a piece of her mind before Bepo’s heavy paws fell on her shoulders, gently but firmly keeping her seated.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “Law doesn’t mean you. It’s just…the last person outside the crew that found out, he was extremely cruel about it. Beat Uni to a pulp and even threatened to sell him as a freak show attraction before Captain found them.”

“Oh my god,” she replied, anger cooling quickly as she covered her mouth in horror, imagining Uni bruised and bloody on the ground at the hands of some bastard. Well, that would sure as hell explain why Law had taken such offense. If such a thing had happened to Chopper because he could speak to animals, she’d likely be just as pissed. From the scowls on the rest of the Hearts’ faces, the whole crew felt similar. Her gaze flicked to the fuming captain. “I’m guessing he ended up on your operating table?”

“I wish,” he growled, gold eyes glinting in fury as he crossed his arms. “Marines showed up before I could cut out his heart. Must have been his lucky day, but luck won’t be enough to save him if I ever run into Hyena-ya again.”

“Hyena?” she asked, the name not ringing any bells.

“Bellamy the Hyena,” Bepo explained, snout wrinkling in distaste. “He’s also from the North.”

Oh. My. God, Nami thought, wondering if the world was really so small. “You said Bellamy, right? Blonde hair? Spring powers? Asshole with a stupid grin?”

Law cocked an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Seems you’ve encountered him before.”

She ground her teeth as she remembered the way he’d mocked Luffy’s dreams in the bar. “Yeah. On Jaya. His crew laughed at me for asking about Sky Island and his first mate tried to buy me. Later he stole Cricket’s gold, so Luffy went after him. I didn’t see the fight but given what an ass that guy was…yeah, Luffy wiped that stupid smile off his face.”

Once more the room fell silent, but quickly broke out into thunderous applause.

“Hah! I would have paid good money to see that!” Ikkaku laughed, spirits lifted.

“If he hurt Cricket, I’m glad he got the beating he deserved,” Ermine said with a grin.

Uni smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily. “When you see Straw Hat again, shake his hand for me! That guy’s a dick.”

Even Law was put in a better mood, though there was still a malicious edge to his smirk. “Good on Mugiwara-ya. Still wouldn’t mind doing some permanent damage to the fucker myself, though. Bad enough he insulted my crew, but that bastard should pick his idols more carefully.”

Nami’s brow furrowed at that. His idols? The hell did that mean?

She didn’t have time to vocalizing that question, though. Sweat ran down her neck when said smirk then took a more lecherous edge as he rested his chin on his fist, eyes glinting with mischief. “But Sarquiss-ya tried to buy you? I might have prioritize kicking his ass, then. I’m the only one who gets to be your sugar daddy.”

“Oh shut up! You didn’t even buy me new shoes!”

“You got her a suit but no shoes? For shame, Boss,” Ikkaku giggled, getting up to help Seiuchi and Jude clear the tables. “I thought you were supposed to be a ladies’ man.”

“I’m a cruel bastard who doesn’t do something for nothing. She can borrow yours.”

Sauntering over, she playfully poked him in the forehead. “Says who?”

Law snorted and childishly poked her right back. “Me. Your captain. The guy who pays your salary.”

“You pay me to keep the submarine running and sass you when you’re being an idiot.”

“I don’t pay you for that.”

“Mmmm, you’re right; that’s a service I provide for free.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say those two were siblings,” Nami chuckled under her breath.

“Right? When I was first recruited I was convinced they were secretly related,” Uni agreed.

Bepo gave them both a smile and said quietly, “I think it’s good for them. Especially Law. I think he secretly likes having a little sister again.”

Brown eyes widened at that little tidbit. Law had a sister? What happened to her? Bepo had stated the past tense, so there was either some kind of falling out or…

…oh no, she thought, turning to watch Law continue to bicker good-naturedly with Ikkaku, his expression annoyed but the glimmer in his eyes belying that he was enjoying himself. Another piece of the puzzle that was the Surgeon of Death had fallen into her lap, but it wasn’t a particularly happy one. Sure, people died or were killed all the time, but Nami couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she’d lost Nojiko. And depending on how young they’d been or how she’d died, that could really fuck with a guy.

“Nami-ya.”

Her attention was yanked from her musing as Law called her name. He was on his feet, plate clean and smirk dangerous as he regarded her. Nami wondered whether this would be the last time she’d see him in a genuinely good mood for the rest of the evening. “It’s seven o’clock. Time to get ready to watch history be defiled by pretentious morons. And for your obnoxious thunder god’s sake, make sure you’re wearing shoes you can actually run in.”

( @ninhaoma-ya, @awesomi, @vannahfanfics)

[sanders-sides-fic]

We all pretend (to be the heroes on the good side)

So… This got real angsty real quick. I didn't intend for it to be that bad. But it went there… So… Yeah.

This is the prompt I was using

Trigger warnings: vaguely implied coma, vaguely implied character death, implied fall, abandonment, ability to move inanimate objects like they're alive

Virgil Sanders.

Most people didn't know that name. Some did, but not nearly as many as knew him. Weird, wasn't it? To be known, without your name being uttered. Maybe that was still part of his history.

He hadn't started out on this side of the fight. A few years ago he'd been feared beyond compare. "Nightmare", that's what they used to call him. Back when he'd been pushed into that role without a visible way out. He didn't have a choice back then, or, at least that's what he used to think.

Then, one night shit got down. He destroyed every connection he'd had, severed every bridge, left everything behind. "Nightmare" became "Anxiety" at that time. A villain-turned-vigilante, who didn't use his powers to terrorise his opponent's minds until they were unable to fight, but answered to the terror people around him felt instead.

Back then he'd started to work with some of his former enemies. They took him in well, everything considered. And he couldn't deny that they helped him a lot. He would sometimes join hands with "the brain", and occasionally even with his reluctant friend and Virgil's former nemesis "the prince".

There were a lot heroes with a "the" in their names, surprisingly.

Now, he couldn't tell anymore when it had happened. But at some time he found himself influenced by their heroic antics, and he took on the name of "storm cloud". His hero name. He teamed up with the brain in his mandatory probation, the so-called introduction phase before his official debut with title of hero. Sadly the name a common friend had offered for their team had been rejected by the hero in question. "Mind storm" would have been awesome, though, right?

And then things started to become brighter in his little world. Hell, his entire career was nothing more than a redemption arch.

That's why he was often times called "the light of hope" by the people. Light of hope, my ass! They were just relieved to see not every villain was beyond help. That was the only reason they liked him, if you'd asked him. Publicity.

That was what he kept thinking about in that moment, when he found himself facing off with his current nemesis. The golden snake was… an old acquaintance. A villain that'd only become a villain because of him. Or, because he wasn't a villain anymore. A villain that Virgil secretly couldn't bring himself to hate because of that, even after everything that had transpired between the two of them.

What even was this, really? A fight between a hero and a villain? If so, who was who? Virgil couldn't tell anymore. He didn't know who he was anymore. It was so… What was the word?

Ack! No time to think of it. He jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the snake's poisonous fang. Ja- the villain had become quite good at this by now. Virgil was really driven to the edge of the building. Luckily there were no more civilians around, but he could still see reporters, some persistent fans, and police officers taking away the snake's underlings out of the corner of his eyes.

The wind blew strong this night.

A bolt of purple lightning shot towards Jan- the villain. It was stoped by the snake of pure gold he controlled so delicately without ever reaching him. Of course. What had Virgil expected? This villain was outstanding. Like he'd always had been.

Virgil tried again, the lightning coming from his finger tips getting harder to control by the second. Too many people, too much fear in the air, too little time to concentrate. And the villain knew this. Virgil could see his smirk underneath the shadow of his hat.

"Just give up, dark and stormy night! You can't hang on for much longer."

Virgil gritted his teeth and fired another bold of lightning. "And let you escape when we got this far? Big chance." Though he did want to do that, if he was being honest.

A laugh so hauntingly familiar and yet a far cry from what he used to know resounded through the tense air. "Suit yourself, then!" Another snake, another step back, pushing the golden puppet away from him with his lightning, parry, attack, cutting off the escape route, damn it all and…

And there was no more building under his feet. His hand somehow managed to grip the edge of the building, fortunately. He would decidedly not look down. And if the people around him would kindly stop sending their fear about him falling towards him, that'd be great, thanks!

He could see the golden snake stepping forward leisurely. "Told you so, dearest." With a smirk the snake retreated.

Well, from the sounds of it, Ro would arrive any moment now. He could hear him in the distance. So he only needed to hand on. Just a bit more. Even though his breath was heavy, and his muscles ached, and there was so much fear it felt like his powers were going to explode, and he was tired, and…

At that moment Virgil realised for the first time how tired he actually was. And he started to wonder what would happen if he would let go of the edge. Five fingers desperately hanging on. Now four. For how much longer? How long until Ro arrived? How much longer did he have to hang on?

What would happen?

Well, he would probably die. Splash, unsightly and painful. Sure. But, aside from that? Who would care? Who would actually care about it? Ro, who only accepted him after fighting so much to prove he was even a bit trustworthy? Lo, who had taken him in because he wanted to prove the point of villains deserving a second chance?

Would there be an official memorial? Like with other heroes? Or would there be merely a single line in the newspaper, like with the villains? Maybe there'd be a few lights on the edge of the street in his colour, like some did for vigilantes they especially adored.

But that would also be the end of so much bad stuff, right? No more pressure, no more screams in his head, no more false smiles, no more… No more tiredness accumulating in his bones.

Was that what would happen?

"No!"

The sudden desperate cry from the villain's mouth startled him out of his thoughts. And, oh… Oh, fuck. Oh, shit! Oh, in that moment of sudden stupidity he'd actually let go, without even fully noticing, hadn't he?

And again, the voice he'd always be able to recognise, no matter where he would hear it: "No! Don't you dare die! Not here, not like this, not now."

It was too late, though. And had Ro arrived yet? He could still see the shocked fans, the officers, the people up there. Frozen. They didn't move as he fell down to his inevitable death. But the villain? He did, he leapt towards the edge, as though he was still within reach.

And Virgil, no, Storm Cloud couldn't help but let out a startled laugh at the irony of it all. How ironic it was, he thought just before his vision went dark, that the only hand reaching out to him, the hero, the so called "light of hope"… the only hand reaching out to him now was that of his nemesis.

Maybe not hating the villain wasn't that stupid of a secret, after all.

❦

"Oh? So how do your powers work, then?" Janus looked up at him through his thick eyelashes, a content smirk on his face as Virgil played with his hair.

"I can hear their fears. They scream in my head, and I can feel their anxiety on my skin." Virgil thought about how to best describe it, fingers changing directions to trial the snake tattoo Janus had on his left cheekbone. "It's like static in the air. And I can either wait until it explodes, or I can let it free. That's what those lightnings are, just… The tension from the air gathered into sheer fear. If I condense it enough, it makes them pass out from fear."

Janus sighed, mismatched eyes closed. "Mine's so stupid in comparison. So I can control metal that looks like animals, wow. It's useless, really. Like, what am I? A fucking jewellery box? Stupid!"

Virgil couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yeah, yeah. But it's fine, isn't it? Since I was able to capture you that way. If you hadn't become my hostage, you wouldn't be with me right now."

"Like me!" The two of them startled, looking at the man hanging upside down from the ceiling. "Though I suppose I'm less hostage and more freeloader…"

"You both are technically freeloaders," Virgil corrected with a smirk "and I didn't kidnap you. You followed me and begged me to take you in because your brother's my enemy. What was it again that you said?"

"I'm leverage so you don't kill him! So I am a hostage. A willing one, though. And it's not bad, you don't torture me or anything. You're surprisingly gentle for a villain…"

"Yeah, well, I… It just happened. If I had had the choice, I…"

Janus sat up suddenly, a serious look on his dolled-up face. "But it did happen. And that's good, because there's no way either of us" he pointed between Remus and himself "will be on any other side anymore. It's too late for us, and we like it here. And you do too, right?"

Virgil looked at the eyes of the man he loved, the man who he pretended not to know had bought a diamond ring just a few days ago. And he couldn't answer. So he just sighed and kissed his forehead instead.

"If you ever change sides" Janus muttered as he snuggled back against Virgil "I'll come and terrorise the entire world to get you back. I'm no hero, but I'm on the right side." Virgil didn't see it, but he knew Janus' face got considerably darker during that last sentence. "So I'd sacrifice the world for you."

There was a beat of silence.

"I'll never forgive you if you leave."

And Virgil didn't plan on leaving. Really, he didn't. But the next night… It just happened. Like when he became a villain. A week later, when he finally managed to get back to their layer, everything was empty. But on top of the bar there was an empty bottle of wine and a black velvet box.

Virgil leaned back, sighing. He looked back up, tears in his eyes. He was too late, huh?

"I guess you saved me, Jan," he muttered to no one in particular "since this is a nightmare. Or maybe it's hell. Who knows." He chuckled, tears still streaming down his face. "I hope I wake up soon."

He sighed, sinking to the floor, trapped in the most painful memory he had. "But then again, maybe that's what I deserve for always letting go at the worst times…"

The scene started to replay again.

Taglist: @gattonero17 @alias290

[null-whump]

Whumptober 2021

Whumptober Day 1 – “You have to let go” | barbed wire | bound

I'm super excited for this!! I've been meaning to write more for Darion so that's what we're starting with :))

Warnings: Restraints, implied slavery, threats, too much exposition (we're starting off tame)

Word count: 1,225

–––––––––––––––––––––––

The first thing Darion became aware of was the manacles clamped around their wrists and ankles. They kept their breathing steady and their eyes shut as they tried to gain awareness of their situation. They were laying on their side, and their limbs were already beginning to ache from pressing against the stone floor they felt beneath them. Stone floor, chains – prison, maybe? But that couldn’t be. No city guard could have possibly gotten the jump on them.

What had happened, anyway? They couldn’t remember. That was concerning. The only thing they could conjure was a memory of slipping into the alley with the window into the room they had been renting for the month. No fight, no attack, not even a little bit of a struggle – just – nothing. For someone to have captured them so easily, there must have been magic involved, and fairly skilled magic at that. Darion prided themselves on being next to impossible to pin down. And yet, here they were, chained up in what was probably some sort of cell, with no idea how they got there.

No matter. They hadn’t met a prison yet that they couldn’t slip out of. Their ears strained to catch any sounds in the room that might indicate they weren’t alone. After several long seconds, they didn’t pick up anything other than the skittering feet of mice the walls. They opened their eyes.

A man was leaning against the wall directly across from them.

Their breath caught in their throat, and they narrowed their eyes. The man tilted his head and smiled.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were planning to stay like that forever.”

His voice was low and smooth, with the polished accent of all Svaerowian nobility, and a slight lilt to his words that was common in draconi. He was draconi, that much was obvious. He was tall, with pale grey skin that looked eerie in the dim lighting of the cell. Dark crimson scales were clustered on his cheekbones, the same color as his hair, which fell freely around his face, parted around the ivory horns that curved back from his skull. His eyes, pure, pupilless gold, roamed up and down Darion’s body. His clothing, all flowing robes and fine textures, indicated wealth and prestige.

Darion took all of this in in an instant. In one fluid motion, they rolled up onto their feet, ignoring the clanking of the chains that wound around their arms and legs. Standing, they were several inches shorter than their captor.

“Who are you?” They demanded. “Why am I here?”

“You’re here because you weren’t careful enough,” the man said, never moving from his leisurely position against the wall. “You got caught.” He smirked. “Don’t feel bad. The moment that you stepped into this city, I decided that I wanted you. You were mine from then on, even if I was kind enough to let you finish your job before making my move.”

Darion lashed their tail once then stilled, immediately berating themselves for the show of emotion. “If I killed someone you loved, then I’m afraid you aren’t going to get an apology.”

The man laughed. “I suppose that is a reasonable conclusion. Wrong, though.” His eyes once again traveled up and down Darion’s body, and there was a hungry look in them that made Darion’s skin crawl. “No,” he said, “I don’t want anything as petty as revenge. I want a new slave.”

Darion blinked, processed the words, blinked again. It was their turn to laugh. “If you think –”

“I do,” the man interrupted. “You see, Darion –“

They couldn’t hold back a flinch at the use of their true name.

“– I pride myself on the extraordinary quality of my slaves.” He leaned forward; the smirk ever-present on his face. “Every single one of them was once renowned for something. I have a cook who has killed basilisks, a dancer who can harness the power of the sun, a gardener who can best every soldier in the kingdom with her sword…so when you, the Onyx Blade, one of the most notorious assassins of the underworld, walked right into my city…well. I simply had to have you.”

My city. Darion had an awful pit in their stomach. There were five members of the nobility in Vajnair who were in constant competition for the ‘top’ spot among the upper class. One of those was the draconi Igneous Von Kleidal, who had quite the reputation for being relentless and stubborn – among other things. Cruelty, for instance. He was not a man to cross. But it seemed that Darion couldn’t have avoided this situation easily. All the same, they weren’t going to make this easy for him.

“I’d rather die than serve you,” they said, keeping their voice at an even, dangerous level. “You aren’t going to accomplish anything by trying to keep me here.”

“You think you’re the first person to think that?” Igneous asked. He pushed himself off the wall and stepped forward but stayed out of reach of the chains that bound Darion to the ground. “Every one of my slaves thought that they were unbreakable.” He tilted his head at Darion. “Every one of them was wrong, and so are you. It’s up to you how long it takes for you to realize that, and how much pain you’re willing to go through before you give up.”

Darion’s response caught in their throat. Something about Igneous’ eyes seemed to freeze their heart in their chest.

“You won’t be able to escape,” Igneous continued. “You can try, as many times as you want, but you’re mine now.”

“You can’t –” they stopped, feeling their voice begin to crack. Why the hell were they so afraid? “I’m not a slave!” They burst out, trying desperately to let their indignation cover their fear. “Legally, you can’t –”

“Legally,” Igneous said, “you are wanted by the crown on innumerable counts of murder and espionage. You think that anyone is going to protest to you being punished with a life of slavery?”

Darion felt panic crawling up their spine, their breathing was becoming shorter, the chains around their limbs felt colder, heavier, more impossibly binding. The complete loss of rationality was so unlike them that they were at a loss for how to deal with it.

Igneous seemed to be enjoying himself. “I’m sure it will take time for you to be broken in, but I have patience. And after that…I have plans for you.”

“What plans?” Darion asked, their voice hoarse from their dry throat.

Igneous stepped forward and reached out to seize Darion’s chin with his hand. The tips of his claws barely dug into Darion’s skin.

“I need a new personal attendant,” he said. His eyes bore into Darion’s, and they found themselves paralyzed in his gaze. “I think you’ll do nicely.”

He dropped Darion’s chin before they had a chance to formulate a response and turned toward the door.

“Think on your situation,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

The door shut with a clang, and Darion was left alone. They dropped to the floor, practically pulled by the weight of their chains, which were horribly impossible to ignore. Igneous’ words echoed in their head.

Mine.

–––––––––––––––––––––––

Tag list; let me know if you want to be added or removed!

@starnight-whump @chifechi

[bokoutoe-retired]

— setups, haunted houses, and confessions

characters; daichi sawamura, gn! reader

synopsis; after being set up by sugawara, a pining captain and a smitten team manager stumble their way through a very unplanned ‘date’

total w/c; 2154

warnings; a little mentioned of (implied) fake blood, and i mention clowns and zombies like once, just some normal haunted house stuff. otherwise nothing but awkward pinning here

「 a/n 」 requested by @girlontumblur! so i obviously failed at getting this out like i wanted (i went back and edited last minute smh) 😔🤚 but it’s here now! 😼😼 and i hope this does decent because although it doesn’t flow as well as i wanted it to, i still kinda like it lmao. anyways, daichi simps unite 🤝 enjoy!

you honestly should’ve known something was up the second sugawara approached you after practice with a sly grin plastered on his annoyingly pretty face. you should've known when everyone texted the team group chat with last minute cancelations or excuses for running late. and you definitely should’ve known when daichi was the only one you found sitting at the planned meeting spot. but, you didn’t and neither did he.

now you two were sat alone on the small blue bench. daichi had one of his hands tucked into the pocket of his thick army green jacket and the other hand scrolling through the same group chat you were looking at minutes prior. the two of you had agreed to wait for a little in hopes that maybe one or two other team members might show up. but unbeknownst to either party, both of you also hoped someone would show up and save you the pain of embarrassing yourself in front of the person you had been pining after for nearly three years. daichis phone pinged, interrupting the awkward silence. it was a text from suga and daichi can feel the tips of his ears grow warm as he reads the message;

have fun on your date! ;) -suga

of course it was suga. he shouldn’t have expected anything less from his scheming vice captain. how he got the whole team to go along with it, is a mystery he decides to leave for another day when he hears you speak up from your spot next to him.

 “is anyone else coming?” he’s thrown out of his thoughts when he feels you nudge his shoulder with yours and sees you nod to his phone. he quickly turns it off and pockets it before he turns his attention to you completely.

“i don’t think so, asahi was the last one to check in and he just canceled,” he sighs and shoves his other hand in his pocket. you two have been close friends for years, but a few recent incidents, (perhaps incited by suga now that he thinks about it…) have left you walking on eggshells around each other. all in attempt to not admit your feelings, the same feelings that are completely obvious to everyone except yourselves.

“oh.. well, i don’t mind if you don’t?” you wring your hands together in your lap as you look at him.

“yeah, yeah of course not. we’re already here aren’t we?” he gives you that big, warm smile you love so much. it’s practically infectious as you feel a wide grin spread across your face too. “lets go, yeah?” he stands up from the bench, and doesn’t hesitate to offer you his hand. you happily allow him to help hoist you up off the bench, but have to resist the urge to intertwine your fingers with his.

the walk to the pumpkin farm and haunted house combination is only about fifteen minutes, but the awkward silence from before is gone. replaced by comfortable conversation about your responsibilities as team captain and manager respectively, funny stories about your friends or talk about your shared classes. you’re so involved with the conversation neither of you notice the way you walk with your shoulders pressed together. maybe it’s a subconscious pull to one another or maybe just an attempt to escape the chill of the late fall air. 

upon your arrival, you can see the towering entrance archway, made of large sticks and corn stalks. built up into a curve with twinkle lights woven throughout. it welcomes you into the family owned farm turned halloween attraction. underneath the arch, families enter and exit, some with children in their costumes and some with parents carrying pumpkins. some young couples and teenage friend groups pass through as well. the small apple cider stand surrounded by hale bales emits that sweet spiced scent that so perfectly encapsulates autumn.

the original “plan” as stated by suga was to just go through the haunted house together and get some food together, just some team bonding. but without the lovable burden of the entire karasuno volleyball club with you, it’s easy for you and daichi to leisurely make your way around the entire farm and participate in all of it’s available activities. you made your way through a hay bale maze together. it may have been meant for children but you had fun regardless, laughing when you got separated and teasing each other when you hit a dead end. you got the treat of watching daichi attempt to bob for apples, and get nothing except for a slightly damp shirt collar.

you even purchased a bag of animal feed for you and daichi to share. you went around petting and feeding goats and a few chickens. at some point you reached into the small brown paper bag right when daichi did. your fingers brushed his and you both pulled back like you had been burned. each of you flusteredly spitting out apologies, until he takes a deep breath, chuckles and shakes head, telling you not to worry about it and it’s no big deal. his strong voice and calm words are a stark contrast to his worried apologies just seconds earlier, but it’s enough for you to relax and continue on with the afternoon.

eventually, daichi leads you to sit down across from him at a wooden table and you’re quick to fall into comfortable conversation. all while the warmth of the apple cider he had just bought you seeps into your fingers and keeps them warm.

if you didn’t doubt yourself so much, you would’ve thought this felt exactly like some sort of date happening. the two of you together, spending time doing things any real couple would. at the same time, similar thoughts raced through daichis mind. he thought about how much this must look like a date to any people passing, and how much he really did wish that was the case. to be able to call you his own and take you out on cute dates like this whenever you wanted. too concerned with his cheeks dusting red at the thought, he fails to notice the similar blush presenting itself on your face.

it’s so easy to get caught up as you keep talking with daichi, you don’t notice the sun starting to set and you don’t even catch him gazing at you with that soft look in his eyes. 

you crack a joke during your story about some of tanaka and noyas shenanigans and he laughs. he laughs this hearty, bright laugh that makes your chest tighten and your own smile widen. i’d like to make him laugh like that for the rest of my life you think.

“you know, i’m a little relieved. with the entire team here it would’ve been hectic to say the least,” he lets out another laugh at the thought of the whole club wreaking havoc on the poor farm, “and you know… i’m glad i got to spend time with you too. it was nice and i’m having a really good time” his soft smile is just as sincere as his words.

“i did too, daichi. thank you for today, i really had fun” you smile back at him and take a sip of your cider.

“ah ah! don’t say thank you yet, y/n. we’ve still got one last thing to do,” he shoves a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the haunted house. from your spot at the table you can see the flash of the strobe lights and artificial fog trickling from the attraction. “maybe we should go get in line?”

you nod, and he once again offers you his hand to help you stand. and just like before you resist the nagging push in the back of your mind to just intertwine your fingers with his. you make your way over, tossing your empty cider cups into the trash as you walk.

you purchase your tickets, or more so daichi buys both of them despite you insisting it’s your turn to pay after he bought cider, and get in the line of about ten people.

“you know i didn’t really consider the fact i wouldn’t have the whole team to hide behind anymore” you rock and back and forth on your feet, as you hear a couple of screams echo from inside the house.

“what, is your captain not big and strong enough to protect you?” he teases while flexing one arm.

“oh stop it, you know what i meant” you playfully roll your eyes and poke him in the ribs right before he swats your hand away.

“just remember, if you take me out now you won’t have anyone to hide behind” by now the line has moved up and there’s only two or three people in front of you.

they group in front of you goes and suddenly you and daichi are up next. the front of the haunted house is decaying and covered in those sticky store-bought cobwebs. you drop your tickets in the box and with a wave of their hand an employee motions you forward into the entrance.

you make your way through the halls of the attraction, going through different themed sections. a circus tent full of crazed clowns, a bloodied butchers shop, and zombies kept back by chain fences. each hall comes with its own set of spooks and scares. creepy sound effects, banging on the walls all around you and air machines puffing air into your face. you don’t even attempt to hide your terror as you scream and even grab onto daichis arm. he lets out his own shouts of fear, but manages to put on his tough act at least partially. you notice him place himself in front of you slightly as you walk, the arm you cling to held in front of your body protectively, although there was no true danger. you’d probably think something of it if you weren’t too distracted by the adrenaline pumping in your veins. it’s not all scary though, a couple of daichis screams make you giggle and act as momentary distraction from your surroundings. a particularly high pitched yelp of his has you gripping the back of his shirt, doubled over laughing. but a loud bang that rattles the wall next to your gives you a start and you keep venturing forward through the house.

you think you’re finally in the clear when you're walking down the hall that leads to the exit off the back of the house. you see an employee dressed in all black at the end directing people around the side of the house and back to the front. but it’s only when you feel your heartbeat start to slow that you hear the chainsaw start and the screams of the group behind you and daichi. you’re heartbeat picks up again and out of pure instinct you lurch forward. you make it out the hall and into the small gravel field behind before you realize daichi still had himself in front of you. you’re too late to react and go barreling into him. the momentum brings both of you tumbling forward into the gravel. you land halfway on top of him but his reflexes are much better than your own and they help keep you from going too far. one arm keeps you from rolling and the other cradles your head to his chest to prevent you from hitting it. the loud buzz of the chainsaw fades as the actor chases the friend group around the side of the house for a short distance. you immediately sit yourself up and attempt to apologize between labored breaths.

“oh god, daichi. i- i’m so sorry, i just heard the chainsaw and i started moving. i didn’t even think. i understand now why you don’t like me back now. i’m so sorry” you hang your head in apology, not even registering the words that slip from your mouth in your scramble to say sorry.

“what?” he asks, stunned.

“...what?” you echo back slowly before the realization hits you hard. you struggle to spit out an explanation and you feel your face heat up, “i just meant-” 

daichis look of shock morphs into a soft smile as he cuts you off with another one of his warm laughs and uses the hand at the back of your neck to pull you down. his lips meet yours in a kiss thats just as warm and solid as him. he pulls away after a moment only to rest your foreheads together and smile at you softly 

“does that mean?” you breathe out, smiling back hopefully.

“yes, yes it does,” he chuckles and stands up from the ground. daichi offers you his hand one last time, you take it and pull yourself up. but unlike any previous offers, you don’t hesitate to lace your fingers with his.

[squadrablog]

hiiiiiii! Could I please request f!reader and Abbacchio in a fake dating situation? Any style you'd prefer :) thanks!

Abbacchio isn’t exactly a fav, but I hope I was able to do him some justice?

Abbacchio x F! Reader

Ao3 Mirror Here.

Word Count: 2752

Warnings: You have an ex who is mildly creepy, but Abbacchio deals with him. Alcohol.

Under cut for length!

“Abbacchio,” you hissed quietly, leaning closer to your teammate’s ear. “We might have a problem.”

The two of you were currently in a crowded bar in the seedier part of town to receive intel from one of Bruno’s informants. You were both at the bar, pretending to take your time enjoying some cheap wine. It was a lively enough atmosphere and no one had paid the two of you much mind. You’d use the cover of anonymity to secure whatever it was your source had to give you.

But things never go smoothly for you, so why would they today?

“Greasy looking guy in the white button down,” you murmured. “Don’t let him see you looking.”

At his leisure Abbacchio cast a glance behind him before returning to his drink. “Enemy?” he said quietly, careful to keep his laidback appearance.

“Something like that,” you sighed. “He’s my ex.”

You heard Abbacchio give a mean chuckle beside you as he took a sip from his glass. Clearly the fact you had dated someone so dull and washed-up looking amused him. You shot him a glare. It’s not that you wanted to defend your ex, heavens no, but you didn’t need his judgement right now.

“Laugh it up, buddy.” You took a sip of your own drink as you found it harder to keep up your calm and collected demeanor. “But if he sees me then it’s over. The informant won’t come anywhere near us with him as a hanger-on.”

“I don’t see the problem. You distract him and I stay here. Isn’t that why there’s two of us?” he said matter-of-factly.

“Abbacchio, please don’t make me talk to him alone,” you begged. “He seems harmless but he’s a real creep.”

“I’ve seen you take down men twice his size with four times as much mental fortitude without batting an eye,” Abbacchio replied, raising an eyebrow at you. The last thing you wanted to do was disappoint Abbacchio, but you wished he’d show some compassion just once and back you up on this. It might not be ‘professional’ to get worked up over your ex, but Abbacchio was your friend just as much as he was your colleague, right?

Although he could really be so cold when you tried to rely on him for any sort of emotional support.

“I’m asking you as a friend, Abba,” you tried again, pouting out your lip, giving him the most doe-eyed expression you could muster. He didn’t usually care for nicknames like that, but for some reason when you used them he let you get away with it. “If he comes over here then scare him off. He’s afraid of tough guys like you.”

He looked away from you, his face still set in its business-like neutral as he turned towards a television set playing a football game with feigned interest. When he looked back at you his sunset eyes were a bit more gentle. “Fine.”

You thanked him as you peered over your shoulder again to try to locate where your ex had gone, but it seemed as if he had vanished. You relaxed your shoulders a bit until you heard a familiar voice calling out your name beside you.

“Damn, it’s been ages!” your ex’s grating voice called out as he reached in for a one armed hug, his other hand holding a glass of beer. You awkwardly reciprocated to be polite.

“Yeah, I know, haha,” you said with a forced smile. “Funny how time flies, huh?”

“Y’know, there’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about how I was a fool to let you get away,” he said bluntly, followed by a chuckle. God, what an inappropriate conversation starter. His eyes checked you out shamelessly, making no effort to hide the action, and you had to take a deep breath to keep yourself from reacting. He raised his beer glass to gesture in your direction and flashed you a big grin. “So what are you up to nowadays?”

“Well...” you trailed off hesitantly before you felt an arm sling over your shoulder from your side.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me first, bella?” Abbacchio asked you, and as you turned to look at him you noticed an uncharacteristically sweet smile on his face. You blushed just a bit. While you had no doubts about how effective this method would be, you definitely were not thinking Abbacchio would go to playing the role of protective boyfriend for you. He really didn’t have to do that, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little excited about the idea of being his fake girlfriend, if only for the night.

Wait, did he call you bella? He was really getting into character, wasn’t he?

“R-right!” you said, a bit more flustered than you were hoping. “Enzo, this Abbacchio! He’s my… boyfriend!” The last bit came out a bit more squeaky than you had hoped. You didn’t think you’d have so much trouble saying the word boyfriend out loud.

Your ex looked Abbacchio up and down, appraising him, before shooting you a quick (and not so subtle) look as if to say, ��Really? This is what you’re into now? Goths?’ But soon he had his fake smile plastered back on his face.

“It’s a pleasure. So, how long have you two been going out?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s so hard to keep track, isn’t it my little snickerdoodle?” Abbacchio said, voice filled with a false doting lilt. You had to work hard to keep yourself from balking at that nickname as you turned again to look him in the eyes. While he had a professional smile on, his eyes revealed a playful smugness. If you wanted him to help you fend off your uninvited guest, he could at least have a little fun, right? You shot him a quick glare before turning back to your ex.

“Almost two years now,” you said firmly. It had been roughly two years since you and this guy had broken up, and that fact was certainly not lost on him as his smile faltered a bit. You knew that implying you hadn’t needed any time to get over him before entering a new relationship that had managed to last way longer than anything you and this creep had would be a major blow to his ego.

“Wow, really?” he said, his disappointment barely concealed. “Glad to hear it, you two.” He scratched the back of his head before gesturing out towards the pool tables. “I was going to go a few rounds, did you maybe want to come over and cheer me on? Catch up some more? You know, you always were my good luck charm.” No… you’re pretty sure he just made that up. He had never called you something like his good luck charm before right now, and you’d know because you had every annoyingly agonizing conversation you’d ever had with the man on constant repeat in your nightmares.

“I’m sorry… I’ve been so busy this week I’ve barely had any time to spend with Abba,” you said with your kindest smile as you let him down as gently as you could. You reached your hand over to lay on top of Abbacchio’s, but he immediately removed it to intertwine his fingers with yours instead.

“Darling, you really do work so hard, don’t you?” Abbacchio whispered gently in your ear, causing you to shiver a bit, while he held eye contact with your ex. “I apologize if I’m a little selfish tonight,” he continued, directed at the other man this time. “As much as I’d love to let her go for a moment, I’ve been looking forward to this date for a while. I’m sure you understand, yes?”

“Well, why don’t we ask her?” your ex insisted, as if he was saying it for your sake. Your eyebrow furrowed at that. You had already said you had barely had any time with your “boyfriend” all week and it seemed pretty clear you had already turned him down.

“I’m sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear,” you said, much firmer as you forced your smile back. “Tonight Abba has my undivided attention.” You squeezed Abbacchio’s hand, a bit tightly. You didn’t want this to go on too much longer, and you hoped Abbacchio could understand that now was the time for him to chase this guy away.

He seemed to understand you perfectly. “You’re not needed here anymore.” Abbacchio said it so bluntly, so laced with malice despite the friendly tone he said it in, and your ex actually flinched a bit. You’d almost feel sorry for him if you weren’t so satisfied by his reaction. Abbacchio still had that veneer of a casual polite demeanor, but his intentions were clear to anyone listening. You didn’t want to come across as vindictive, but you had trouble stifling your smile, so you covered your mouth with your hand.

It took your ex a moment to recover, but when he did he leaned in closer to try to quickly whisper something at you. “Look, I just want to talk alone with you. I’ve been thinking about you so much lately and there’s a lot of stuff you need to know-” You visibly recoiled, the nervousness you had when you first spotted him returning, but backing yourself up into Abbacchio’s embrace did a lot to calm you as he gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze.

He stood up from his chair and stepped in front of you, between you and your ex, and the other man’s eyes widened considerably. Sitting down Abbacchio was intimidating enough, his intense eyes and dramatic style made it clear he wasn’t someone you wanted to mess around with. But he was also very tall, which was now apparent, and with his front now facing the man his low cut garment made it clear he was toned as well.

“Why don’t you leave me and my girlfriend alone and make yourself scarce, hm?” he said, all his geniality gone, his smile dropped. This wasn’t business Abbacchio, waiting for an informant, or fake boyfriend Abbacchio, teasing with a self-satisfied smile.

This Abbacchio was genuinely mad. You were actually concerned that him losing his cool like this would jeopardize your mission by calling too much attention to yourselves.

“Abba, please,” you said, clutching his coat to get his attention. “He’s not worth it.”

Luckily you saying that seemed to be the final nail in the coffin, and your ex finally backed off. “Alright, alright, I don’t want to start anything, jeez. I’ll get out of your hair,” he muttered before walking off. To your relief he seemed to be too shaken up to stay at the bar, as you watched him head for the exit. Abbacchio made sure he was out of sight before he sat back down.

“Oh, thank you so much, Abba, thank you, thank you!” you said over and over to show your appreciation. You had even boldly taken his hand in both of yours, squeezing it as you piled on your praises.

His irritation eventually slowly faded back into a smirk as he took his hand out of yours and slung his arm around your shoulder again. “No need to thank me, cara.” Without needing to fool your ex, his smugness was a lot more apparent.

You giggled a bit involuntarily as you looked away from him. “Don’t be mean,” you mumbled. “He’s gone, you can stop.” If he called you any more pet names you might not be able to keep your blush at bay any longer.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear. “It’s a far easier cover story to keep up as opposed to being two bored bar patrons pretending to watch a football game.”

You leaned closer towards him to whisper back. “Being my boyfriend was your idea. You just want to keep it up to tease me.”

“Perhaps,” he said, giving you a smirk before he removed his hand from you and turned to go back to pretending to watch the television. “Alright, I’ll leave you be.”

‘You don’t have to,’ your mind said, but instead all you let out was a deep sigh as you lazily swirled your wine around in the bottom of your glass.

Eventually a stranger wearing the designated sign, an orange handkerchief in his coat pocket, entered and slowly made his way to the bar, sitting next to you. He reached over towards the drink menu that you had deliberately placed far to your left hand side, and picked it up before glancing down at you.

“My mistake, this is yours, isn’t it?” he chuckled, before setting it down and reaching for his own menu on his left, waving the bartender over.

Meanwhile you finished off your drink and waited a while until after the man had left to go sit at a booth on the opposite side of the bar with his order before glancing over the menu again. You deftly slipped a piece of paper inside the menu’s folds up your sleeve as you decided on what you’d finish out your night with. However, when the bartender arrived, after giving the whole thing another thoughtful glance, you concluded that you just needed some water and then your bill.

It wasn’t too long before you and Abbacchio were heading to your pickup spot to wait for Bruno to retrieve the both of you. As curious as you were about the message currently up your sleeve, you knew Abbacchio would admonish you if you tried to sneak a peek before you were safely in the car with your Capo.

“I was a bit unprofessional back there,” Abbacchio said, breaking the silence between the two of you as you waited. His lips were pursed together and his eyebrows were knit in his grumpy default expression.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. You did way more than I expected from you and I really do appreciate it,” you said, flashing him a genuine smile.

“I mean threatening the guy. If it had escalated I could have blown the whole operation,” he clarified.

“Oh, there was no way he was going to actually stand up to you,” you said with a laugh. “Still, though, you seemed like… actually angry. It was a bit out of character.”

“I was angry,” he said simply.

You scoffed, turning towards him. “What, you actually managed to get worked up over that loser despite scolding me just before about how I needed to handle him by myself?”

“It just seemed like petty personal drama to me. Like you were embarrassed by him,” he said, continuing to look away from you. “But you were actually distressed.”

“I mean… yeah, I guess I was,” you said, wrapping your arms gently around yourself as your gaze fell to the ground. “I mean, he is the worst, don’t get me wrong… but he’s also from a time in my life when everything was the worst for me. Before Bruno found me and I met all of you… I don’t want to go anywhere near my old life.”

Abbacchio gave a thoughtful hum in agreement at that. He was quiet for a bit longer before he spared a glance in your direction, noticing the way you had wrapped your arms around yourself. “Are you cold?”

“Huh? Oh… well, I guess so, now that you mention it.” You looked over at him, thinking perhaps he was going to offer you his coat. You were pretty sure he didn’t have a shirt under that thing. “But you don’t need to-” you began, before he was next to you, wrapping an arm around you to hold you close to his side. “Ah…!”

“Here, let your boyfriend take care of you,” he said, his sour expression a lot softer, but still plastered with a smirk.

“You’re just a little too entertained by all this,” you said, looking up at him and shooting him a glare.

“What, you didn’t have fun on our fake date?” His smirk looked even more smarmy.

You just huffed and turned away from him, and in response he held you a bit closer.

“We’ll just have to go on a real one then,” he said, almost to himself, but still loud enough for you to hear, although you almost doubted that you had. Before you could say anything there was a pair of headlights rounding the corner and Abbacchio was already letting go of you. “There’s our ride.”

[a-third-attempt]

Home

A/N: Presented on the occasion of @momochrome​‘s birthday.

Inzee is an OC of @momochrome. Source (at her writing blog)

Warnings: Claustrophobia implied, angst with a happy ending. (3240 words)

 * * *

“I need to tell you something.”

“Anything, angel.”

You’d known this was coming. He’d been out of sorts for days. Unusually quiet and slow to respond. Calling a rain check for date night. Even his quiet time tending the garden every morning didn’t seem to be bringing him the peace that it had before. 

Today, Inzee was slumped over the kitchen table, gray-skinned head resting between two massive webbed hands. He wasn’t upset, you noted, the markings on the back of his head bore only the faintest bit of color. But his pointed ears seemed to tell a different story, drooping down. You sat down next to him and smiled patiently. 

He sat with furrowed brow, collecting his thoughts, giving you plenty of time to look him over and be struck once again by how large he was. You had met other Eistirs over the last few years on Enphe, which is how you came to realize that Inzee wasn’t considered particularly muscular. Still, a lifetime of space work had kept him in shape, and what passed for lithe strength on this planet was positively enormous by Human standards. He stood well over two meters tall, with arms as thick around as your thighs and a body to match. 

“I’m glad we decided to settle down.” He hesitated, his four eyes fixed on you, nervously watching for your reaction. “But I’ve got to fly again.”

“What do you mean?”

He grunted. “I’m just going stir-crazy from being grounded for this long. I haven’t sat around on Enphe for more than one orbit since I was a child.” 

Like you, he’d gone to space as soon as he could, following that ephemeral string into the sky, hoping beyond hope that he would find where it led. That was where the similarities ended. Somehow, he seemed to enjoy it, which had always been baffling to you. Your experiences of space travel were spartan, weeks if not months of cramped quarters, bad food, and poor hygiene. When you were in Terran-charted space, you at least had a crew to keep you company. But most of your years of travels were spent far beyond it, in torturous solitude. Components were damaged with each jump, and the hours that you weren’t spending repairing the tin can were filled with tedious calculations to properly chart your course. That far out, the navigation systems were nearly useless. When they broke along with everything else after the nebula jump, you didn’t even bother to repair them. 

“Do you not like it here?” You knew the answer, but you still didn’t understand what he was getting at.

“My sweetheart, you wound me.” He clutched his chest, and you flashed a faint smile. He seemed to be feeling a little better than when you’d first come out, at least. “I love it here. I think I’d love anywhere if you were there. Somehow I just need—” Suddenly his eyes drooped, too ashamed to look at you anymore. “I mean I thought I was just out there searching for you. But maybe I was looking for something else, too, or else this feeling should have gone away, right?”

You nodded slowly. It made sense. You might have been the talkative one, making friends everywhere you went, but he had always been more inclined to adventure. You worked well together, as soulmates should, quickly collecting a large group of like-minded friends all around the world. Soon your leisure time had been positively filled with friendly banter and silly games, and with the effortless travel afforded by Eistir teleporters, there was no shortage of sights to see. At first you had assumed that he was taking you to his favorite spots, but he confessed that most of the time he was visiting for the first time too. I’ve been all around the galaxy, he said, shaking his head, but I’d never known my own backyard.

That life of your dreams had turned into a lump in your throat. How long had he felt this way? He had leased his ship when you agreed to settle back onto his homeworld, when you both thought that your days of flying were behind you. Suddenly, those terrestrial travels seemed like a paltry replacement for extraplanetary flights he could no longer have. Why hadn’t he said anything? Did he not trust you? 

No, no. That didn’t matter. He was telling you now. He trusted you now, and judging by the look on his face, he needed you now. You could worry about the past some other time.

You reached over to rub his shoulder, and ducked your head to meet his gaze. “Inzee, look at me. I love you.” He smiled, ears twitching. Every time. “You know how I feel about flying. But honestly, you’ve been a mess recently, and it breaks my heart to see you unhappy. So if you need to take a trip every once in a while, we can do that.”

He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but his skin brightened a bit more, cupping your hand in his. “You’re really okay with it? I don’t know how much time I’ll need. I could be gone for a while.”

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. “Honestly, angel, I don’t know. I have some really dark memories of being in a ship. But you’ll be there this time, which will help.” He bumped his forehead against yours, one of his cute little gestures that never failed to charm. “Or at least, we can try. I mean, this has to work out somehow, right? We’re soulmates, for god’s sake,” you said, twanging at the string that bound the two of you.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He pulled away, sighing. “Well, I would rather get my old ship back, if I can. That’ll probably take a while.” He looked you over with concern. He would never say that he didn’t believe you, but you both knew that there was more to be said. “Maybe I can start working on that, and you can think about it? Make sure you’re okay with me being gone for a while?”

“Being gone—?” He couldn’t possibly think that you would be staying home? “I’m going with you, you do know that, right?”

“What?” He seemed genuinely shocked. “No, I’m not going to ask you to go back on a ship again, you’ve made it plenty clear—”

A fire rose in your gut; you could hardly believe what you were hearing. “Listen, Inzee.” He snapped to attention at your sharp tone. “I dragged this tiny Human body halfway across the galaxy just to find you. And there isn’t a darn thing in it that could pry you out of my sight for a second.” He gulped, and then, much to your amusement, shivered. It made sense. He wouldn’t be used to hearing that voice in the daylight. You were tempted to push him further, but reluctantly waved the thought away. Plenty of time for that later. This was serious.

But he must have smelled your thoughts, because he completely failed at concealing his laughter. Shaking his head, he whispered, “Oh, what could I possibly have done to deserve you?”

You grinned. “Do you want an itemized list?”

 * * *

It did, indeed, take a while. Days passed and then blurred together as the long series of infuriating telecoms and paper trails paraded on. The red tape brought out a side of Inzee that you had never seen before, not just tenacious but assertive. He navigated the Eistir bureaucracy with an efficiency and ruthlessness that was almost frightening. And, ultimately, effective. After an eternity of wrangling, he managed to wrest back control of his old ship from the rental agency. 

On the morning that everything was official, he could hardly contain his excitement. He put a blindfold on you and stepped you through the teleporter, its buzzing sensation a long-familiar nuisance.

"Okay, take it off!”

As soon as the blindfold fell, you were immediately knocked breathless.

The two of you stood on a grated platform that ran along the rim of a gigantic circular room with vaulted ceilings. Sitting in the center you saw the characteristic green wireframe of a holographic starmap. It was massive, at least twice as big as any you had seen, and the room had clearly been sculpted around it; the projection equipment tucked into the arch of the ceiling, control panels on all three levels of the platform. The far side of the room was a window— a single curved sheet of glass that must have been at least two stories tall. At its edges, it faded into elegant yellow walls covered in vast black screens, woven together by veins of blue and purple crystals and a dizzying array of bright buttons. Eistir script flashed on a few of the screens, some projecting smaller holograms of their own. The room was silent, save the quiet whirring of the machinery and the occasional beeps of a droid buzzing overhead.

“Welcome aboard,” he said, his thick arms squeezing your side.

“This is your ship? It’s as big as our whole house!”

“No, I don’t, don’t think so.” His skin flushed blue. “I mean, the boy is, it’s probably, it’s not quite as—”

You hit him playfully on his side. “Jeez, you idiot! Why did you ever give this up?”

He cupped his hand around his ear, all eyes looking at the floor. “Well, I didn’t need it, anymore, once you found me, you know, and anyway, you didn’t seem so keen on flying— and I didn’t really give it up, I guess— we got it back, you see?”

You barely registered his stammered response, still taking in the grand scale of it all. “Oh, sweet heavens, I would have given the whole galaxy to fly on your ship.” His stories flooded back into your mind, and finally standing in the bright, open space, their reckless enthusiasm suddenly made sense. Of course you would love to fly if you got to fly in this beauty! This wasn’t a budget rocket slapped together to get you one or two jumps away. This was a ship made for adventure.

No, not quite, you remembered. It was, in fact, a science ship, designed for acquiring and testing specimens. You whipped your head around, looking for where the experiments might be run. But as far as you could tell, everything you saw looked like navigational equipment. “Where do you keep your collections?”

His markings glowed, intense with regret. Oh. Right. Immediately you embraced him, resting your head on his cool skin. “I’m sorry.”

The ship had been rented out, and the new astronauts would probably have collections of their own, so his had to be dealt with. He figured the data would be useful to someone, so he spent many long afternoons cataloguing everything; giving the local scientists anything they would take, and carefully documenting the rest. You had begged him to just bring them home and be done with it, but he insisted that he didn’t have the equipment to store them. He was so torn up about it, but there was nothing to be done.

“It’s okay,” he said, quietly. He wrapped you up in his arms and you savored his thick scent. “There’s a collections room.”

“There’s a what?” you demanded, jerking your head back. You were so taken aback, you’d forgotten that you were supposed to be soothing him. He tilted his head, confused.

“A… collections room? Uh, to keep everything organized?”

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes spun around the chamber. “There’s more?”

Finally understanding, he chuckled. “Ah. Yes, my love. Come on, I can give you the tour.”

“Holy shit.” 

Your mind was reeling as you followed his lead along the grated platform. He turned abruptly and the wall parted, revealing a short corridor, not quite wide enough for both of you to fit at once. He took your hand in his and you walked through to the other end, where a similar portal opened into a new room.

And when he stepped in, it was Inzee’s turn to gasp.

“Impossible…”

You rubbed your eyes as you adjusted to the light. This room was admittedly less grandiose than the navigation room, although still beautiful in its own way. It was smaller, but possibly even taller, with locker-like doors of all sizes lining the walls. A mess of Eistir script was scrawled on most of them, although it had clearly been rubbed off several of the larger doors at your eye level, replaced with more careful, steady handwriting. It wasn’t much to look at, you thought, but your partner was shell-shocked.

“What is it, angel?”

“They couldn’t have left all of it.” He started pacing around the room, sliding his hands across the glyphed doors. His body trembled as he pressed on one and it hissed open, letting loose a puff of orange steam as a shelf slid out. “Sweet oceans, they did.” He pressed frantically on the doors, drawers and tanks emerging.

“I can’t believe it.” He jumped back to you and swept you off your feet, practically lifting you up in the air. “It’s all here!”

He was still shaking as he squeezed you. You grinned like an idiot to see him so happy. “I thought you cleared it out!”

“I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” He returned an embarrassed smile. “I made all the records and put a note in the system asking them to remove it. Maybe a bit rude, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually throw it away.”

You finally gave in to your curiosity and pressed a door open. The tray that emerged was dense with easily a hundred pencil-thin glass tubes. Some of them were empty, it looked like, while others were foggy and bore subtle colors. “Atmosphere samples,” he crooned, sliding one along the webbing between his fingers. “From the Kredar supersystem. A lot of gas giants.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, is each one a different planet?”

He laughed. “There’s a couple repeats, probably.” The words hit you like a truck. Nearly a hundred planets behind this one door. In a room filled with doors, wall to wall, floor to ceiling. 

“I can’t believe they left it all behind.”

You giggled, despite yourself. “You left it all behind.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m just teasing, angel,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I’m going to make you tell me about every one.”

“Good thing I’ve already taken notes.” One of his eyelids closed clumsily, and you stifled another giggle. You’d been trying to teach him how to wink, and he still needed a bit of practice.

You slid over one of the ladders attached to the walls and climbed up a few rungs. “Hmm, what’s iiiiiin…” you waved your hand around a section of the doors. “this one?” You slapped one of the larger squares. It opened cleanly, with none of the fanfare of the others, and a glass box rolled out, filled to the brim with— 

Lego?

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Inzee clutched his sides as he bowled over laughing, nearly falling on the floor. “Oh no! Don’t tell me you have those evil buggers too!”

You grabbed a handful of bricks. They were a little different than you were used to, lacking the familiar branding, some a bit misshapen. And they were clearly not all made from plastic. Some were metallic, others almost leathery. Throwing them back in the box, you glared at your partner, still wheezing on the ground below you. “What are you on about?”

He was gasping too hard to speak. You shook your head and hopped off the ladder, looking him in the eye as you shook him gently. You tried to appear unamused, but you weren’t sure if you were succeeding— it was adorable to see him like this, and his smile was infectious.

Eventually he calmed himself down enough to explain. “Nearly every race that we have made contact with has invented some version of those things. Not too hard to believe, I suppose, a toy for curious children that gets replicated across worlds.” He shook his head, another chortle busting through. “But you would think that someone would have found a way to make them that doesn’t hurt like hell when you step on them.”

“I cannot believe that the common thread uniting civilizations across the galaxy is fucking Lego.”

“Come on, that’s not the common thread. We all do language, water treatment, fusion, that kind of stuff.” Inzee snorted. “But yes, it is a incredible coincidence.”

“Oh, that gives me an idea. We should swing by Earth!” You frowned, one complication of that plan springing quickly to mind. “Well, it is pretty far away, we’d have to fly for a while. But you don’t already have Human-Lego, right? And I’m sure there’s other collections we could fill out, too.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful!” His markings swelled with blue, and he spread his arms wide in deference. “I would be honored to visit your homeworld.”

“How soon can we start?”

His eyes were so bright, you swore you could see by them. “What’s gotten into you, my love? Just a few days ago I thought you were ready to call off the whole thing entirely.”

“It’s your ship, Inzee. There’s so much light and space. I can breathe in here.” As if to demonstrate, you loudly inhaled through your nose. He shot you a bemused glance, and you stuck out your tongue. “Oh god, you should have seen the tin can I flew here in. If I could have had this, everything would have been better, I’m sure of it. This ship, your ship, it’s amazing.”

He had been soaking in your words with an awkward sort of pride, as if you had been praising him rather than his ship. Perhaps you had been. But at the end, his expression suddenly softened, and his skin glowed a bright red. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. 

“No, my love. You are amazing.” Towering over you, he leaned down to join his eager lips with yours. His hearts pounded blood through his body, and you felt them as if they were your own, the rhythm of the kiss synching to his hypnotic pulse. You nursed it, squeezing him as you deepened it, his quickening breath sending tingles up your spine. 

Neither able nor willing to control yourself, you stepped forward, urging him toward the wall. He gave in to your demand just as instinctively, shrinking back further and further until you slammed him against the doors, pinning him down. He could surely have broken out had he wanted, but the blue heat radiating from his skin told you he had no such desire. This was a man bent on fulfilling your fantasies— or, rather, a creature, an Eistir— any interest you had in the details vanished completely as his silky hands slipped under your shirt, the light touch of his webbing teasing soft moans from your chest.

In retaliation, you slid your tongue into the fork of his, but when he tried to lean in, you pulled away completely. You smirked wickedly at his quiet whines, lifting his chin up with one finger and setting your gaze into his eyes. “Show me to the captain’s quarters, angel.”