#i'm not sure it came out right. but i tried

[mrsshabana]

𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐫. 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡 :･ﾟ✧

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Mr. Crawling x gender!neutral!reader, MDNI, nudity, fluff, suggestive but no smut ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words. Mr. Crawling is so cute, I just had to write a fic where we take care of him. He deserves it (╥ ‸ ╥)

He followed you like a lost puppy.

The entity that clung to you like his life depended on it, refusing to return to the world in which he came from. His intentions aren't clear, but he isn't causing any harm so you had no issue with him sticking around.

Mr. Crawling was what you called him. He spoke a strange language you couldn't understand at first, but after spending so much time with him you picked it up after a while.

When you get home from work he's always so excited to see you, chirping excitedly and grinning widely at the sight of his favorite human.

As soon as you arrive he sticks to you like glue, watching you as you do mundane tasks or relax around the house.

Tonight you were making spaghetti, and Mr. Crawling seemed extra intrigued by you cooking the dish.

He peers up at the stovetop, watching as you heat up the tomato sauce. His curiosity gets the best of him as he tries to get a better view, he bumps into you. Causing the red sauce to topple over and spill all over him.

"Mr.Crawling!" you shout, "I'm so sorry!"

He just smiles and licks the sauce off of his face. Seemingly not affected by the hot temperature or the fact that it has splattered all over his clothes.

"You ok?" you ask in his language.

"Me surprise! Saturate clothes, hair, body!" he says between giggles.

You're glad he finds it funny and he's not upset. You don't know what you'd do if you ever saw Mr. Crawling cry.

But he's right, he's completely covered in sauce and his clothes will need to be washed right away.

You kneel down to his level and wipe away the excess sauce with a paper towel, "Me take care of you."

"Me grateful," he smiles wide, leaning into your touch as you clean him off.

You know this won't be enough though, he needs a bath. But you feel slightly awkward giving him one. Not that you mind caring for him, but as far as you know there isn't a word for bath or clean in his language so you don't know how to ask him if he's okay with it. And the thought of seeing Mr. Crawling naked... well you've never really considered it before. But thinking about it makes your cheeks redden and your body heat up.

First things first, after cleaning the chunks of tomato you take his hand and lead him into the bathroom before you try explaining to him.

"Um... Mr. Crawling," you mumble, "Me change you clothes. Water container. You give clothes?" You try to explain it to the best of your ability as you hold out your hand.

"Saturate clothes, water correct! Me give," he nods and takes off his clothes.

There's no embarrassment or shyness evident as he removes his clothes. Mr. Crawling is either just too innocent, or he's just so comfortable around you that he knows he has nothing to be shy or embarrassed about.

You try not to look at his body as you take his clothes. Hurried walking to the laundry room and shoving them into the machine at a rushed pace.

You know he's waiting patiently for you to return and give him his bath but you have to try to calm down first! Your creepy cute ghostly roommate is naked in your bathroom right now and you're freaking out!

Mr. Crawling may act like a pet, but this isn't like giving your dog a bath or something! Maybe it feels so strange because your relationship with Mr. Crawling isn't well-defined.

He's obviously obsessed with you and adores you in every way, but is it romantic? You aren't sure...

However, you do feel confident that Mr. Crawling wouldn't say no to being in a romantic relationship with you if you asked. Judging by how he constantly craves your affection, touch, and attention - he'd probably love it.

And you'd be lying to yourself if you ignored the feelings you had for him. Sure he's not human, but he's so sweet and genuinely cares about you.

Before you met him sometimes you felt like if you disappeared no one would care. You felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. On lonely nights you'd question why you're even here at all. Is there even a point?

But Mr. Crawling changed all of that.

When you leave, you know Mr. Crawling is always waiting in front of the door for you to return. No matter how long it took, even if it was 100 years, he would still wait for you.

He makes you feel important for the first time in your life. Like if something happened to you he wouldn't rest until he was able to have you again - even if he spent eternity searching for you. He wouldn't stop looking for his favorite human. That's how much you mean to him.

And if that's not the definition of love then you don't know what is. Because it's obvious that Mr. Crawling loves you, and honestly you love him too.

"Mr. Crawling..." you whisper as you walk into the bathroom again.

He turns and makes that high-pitched sound he makes when he's happy.

"Water container, correct," you say, patting his head as you start the faucet.

"Me go into?" he tilts his head to the side, not sure what to do. The gesture is cute and makes you smile.

You nod, "You go into container."

Even though he's never had a bath before, he trusts you and gets into the tub. Watching in awe as his long hair floats to the surface, creating long black streaks within the water.

You can't help but blush as you look at his body. Never had you expected him to be so toned under his loose-fitting clothes. Especially his chest and arms. But it makes sense, he crawls around all day so his upper body strength has to be good, right?

Now that you're seeing him like this, you can't help but notice how long his legs are too. You've never actually seen him stand so it never occurred to you how tall he could be. Judging by how he fits into the tub, he must be taller than any person you've ever met before.

Imagine if he stood up like this...

Your thoughts drift and you get distracted, accidentally pouring loads of bubble bath into the tub instead of just a tad to keep him occupied.

"Fun! Fun!" He shouts excitedly as the tub fills with foaming bubbles, completely covering his body and overflowing from the tub.

"Shit!" you say under your breath, cursing yourself for letting those perverted thoughts sneak into your head. You can't stay mad though as you watch him giggle and play with the bubbles. Why does he have to be so freaking cute?

As he has the time of his life, you dig through the bubbles to clean him. Starting with his body and finishing with his hair. Taking over an hour to wash his hair alone.

As you clean his hair he experiments with these fluffy white things he's never seen before. Curiously eating them, sculpting them with his hands, and even putting them on you. He takes a clump of bubbles and forms them into cat ears on the top of your head.

"You cute!" he shouts excitedly.

You smile and do the same for him, "You cute!"

"We cute together!!" he smiles, having the funnest time with you.

Finally, once he's been all cleaned you help him dry off as he sits on your bathroom floor, watching curiously as the bubbles get sucked down the drain.

His clothes aren't quite done yet so in the meantime you let him wear an old pair of pajamas. They're pink Hello Kitty pajamas to be exact. Sure you had a plain black set that would do as well, but you just couldn't resist putting him in this. He looks so adorable as he crawls into the bed with you, laying on your lap as you brush his hair.

"Water container fun..." he mumbles on the edge of falling asleep, "Again again."

"Fun again," you smile, promising to give him another bath someday.

"Thank you," he nuzzles into you, "Me like you. Like you much..."

"Me like you much," you kiss the top of his head, "Me take care of you, you rest."

He doesn't want to sleep, he wants to stay up with you all night taking baths and playing with bubbles. But being in your embrace as you take care of him is just too much to resist. He hopes you'll do this again soon, or maybe you'll let him give you a bath and brush your hair next time.

He quickly drifts off to sleep, thinking about all of the fun things he wants to do with you. Meanwhile, you sit there and brush his long hair for another hour. Though you don't mind. Sitting here with him, brushing his hair as he sleeps on your lap, it doesn't get any better than this.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:

"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."

"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."

"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"

[source thread]

User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]

User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]

[leclarifies]

THE NUMBER YOU HAVE DIALED IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE (LN4)

꒰ lando norris x ex!reader ꒱

synopsis┊in which lando keeps dialing your number even after you've changed it.

genre┊angst (im not sorry)

word count┊ 2.1k

aria yaps┊remember how i broke ur hearts with carlos sainz angst for my first fic about him? YEAH HERE'S THE LANDO VERSION!!!!!!!! i know yall love it either way so, enjoy reading! very short btw, i just wanted to put something out for today

"where did we go wrong? i know we started out all right. where did we go wrong? i swear i knew we'd last this time." - lany, "13"

it takes three rings.

then he hears that stupid automated voice again, "the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try—"

"for fuck's sake."

after he ends the attempted call, the furious typing is apparent in the empty, dark room. the artificial keyboard clicking fills the room as he tries his best to reach her. it's futile really, with every text he sends, the more agitated he becomes.

he knew that he shouldn't do this, that she was probably trying her best to move on, but he couldn't. he couldn't let her slip away from his grasp so easily.

"i just want you here for my races, is that so hard to ask for?" lando sounded desperate, he was desperate. he was a guy who needed his girlfriend and it didn't help that his girlfriend couldn't be there with him when he needed it the most, especially at times like these.

she was tired, he could tell, he didn't want to turn this into an argument but he was going to base it off of how she was going to respond, "lando, i can't. you know this. i have family here that i need to support, i can't just quit—"

"i'm not asking you to quit, i'm asking you to come just when you can," lando ruffled his hair so hard that it hurt, "the races are on weekends— for fuck's sake! why can't you just listen to me and actually hear what i'm saying?"

"i am listening! you're not listening to me!" she had tears in her eyes now, he hated it. he hated when he got riled up like this. it wasn't her fault, he knew it but he wanted her around him at least every few races, he hadn't been able to see her on the paddock at all this year and it pained him.

an exasperated sigh leaves his lips and he tries calling again, he knows she's not gonna pick up. he knows that he's probably blocked everywhere, but he wants to try. he wants to talk. he just wanted to fix things.

"the number you have dialed is—"

the next thing he heard was his phone shattering against the wall after he threw it across the room.

it was only two days later when he got a new phone and tried again, it wasn't going to go through. he knew it, but he just wanted to try. he wanted to show her that he was willing to make a compromise with her, just to make sure that she was there for him.

he didn't understand why he raised his voice so easily when it came to her, maybe because emotions ran high and he didn't know what else to do to express himself. he didn't know. all he knew was that he was a selfish prick and he deserved all of this.

he tried again.

"the number you have dialed is cu—"

he wanted to smash that brand new phone into the wall like its predecessor but he held himself back, he knew that the money that was needed to buy him a new phone was priceless to him, he was a formula one driver. it was pennies to him. all that money and he couldn't keep the most priceless thing to him, her.

he didn't care how selfish it sounded, or how convoluted their issues were. he just wanted her here, to hug, to kiss, to just comfort him. he had so many things on his mind right now and it could've been solved just by a simple touch and kiss to the forehead.

he was losing his mind and he knew it.

something akin to a sob bubbles from his throat when he hears the automated voice again.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try again later."

he fucked up, he knows now. she didn't have to rub it in his face like this, by changing her number and disappearing off of the face of the earth.

he just wanted to be home.

gentle knocking wakes her up from her slumber, it's unusual to get guests at this hour and on top of that, she wasn't expecting anyone. a huff escapes her lips as she gently takes the covers off of her and sits up on the bed. the knocks become more persistent as she begrudgingly gets up from her comfortable bed.

at first, she contemplates whether she should open the door or not but she opens it against her better judgement, her eyes widening when she realizes who it was.

"lando, what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be in aus—"

she gets engulfed in a hug before she could even utter another word.

inhaling her scent after so long had been a breath of a fresh air for lando, he missed her. she's confused on how lando even knows where she lived. she had moved out of her last flat to avoid him on purpose, and now he's here, when he's supposed to be all the way in australia getting ready for a race.

his hug wasn't reciprocated, unfortunately for him.

"lando—" she was cut off by her ex standing in front of her, his eyes were glassy, puffy, like he had been crying all the way from australia to here.

"i just wanted to see you, that's all."

"we broke up two months ago, you can't just show up in front of my flat like this."

"i know but—"

"there aren't any buts lando, didn't me changing my number make it clear to you?" she folded her arms in front of her chest, her hair was still a mess from sleep and she was in pajamas, but her eyes were nowhere near his, not wanting to have any type of eye contact.

lando could only look down on the ground in embarrassment, he knew it was wrong. he knew he shouldn't have asked her friends where she lived, all of them had turned down his questions, telling him that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore but it wasn't anything a little persistence couldn't solve.

"is that all? you have a race to catch," she didn't even give him the chance to speak before trying to close the door on his face, but he blocked it with his foot, he wanted to talk. to fix things. he knew that things were irreparable but he wanted to try.

lando pushes the door open, despite her insistence of not letting him in, "i want to fix things, love—"

"there's nothing to fix lando, we're done. we've been done. what part of done do you not understand?" she was on the verge of tears, she didn't want to end it with lando, no, not at all but she felt that it was best for the both of them, she couldn't provide him with what he needed and he couldn't with her either, so it was best to just separate because why be in a relationship when you don't feel the love?

her eyes were still on the floor, not even daring to look up at lando's. it hurt for her too of course, just throwing away their year-long relationship out the window when the beginning of their relationship was so lovely, but now all there was is resentment and she didn't want that in her relationship.

lando couldn't utter anything out his mouth, he was stuck in place by her words. he let himself in earlier after he pushed the door open, he gently closed the door behind him before sighing, "we didn't even talk about it, you just decided for yourself that you didn't want to be apart of this anymore, you didn't even wait until my race ended before i could respond. how can i let it go?"

she swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked out the window, still refusing to look at lando, because she knew that if she did, she would start crying, "you just do lando. sometimes break-ups aren't always mutual, sometimes it's one person who doesn't want to be in a relationship anymore. it takes two to tango."

lando tousled with his hair, what could he say to that? she wasn't wrong. she couldn't deny the hurt and sadness that was in his green eyes, she hated that she made him feel that way but they were nothing. they've been broken up. by definition, they didn't have anything to do with eachother anymore, but she still had that care inside of her heart for him. after all, it had only been two months.

"just hear me out, and by the end of tonight, if you don't want to see me anymore, i'm gone. i won't try to contact you anymore," lando gave an ultimatum and she was fine with that, because she knew well that whatever he said, she would still say no.

she sat down on her couch, patting the space next to her to at least give him some sort of hospitality, wanting to hear him out even though she was steadfast in her decision.

"i won't bug you to come to my races anymore, i'll even help you with helping your family—"

"you can't throw money at this problem, lando."

"i'm not throwing money at it, i'm just saying that it's an option and you can take it if you feel like you need it," lando's voice was always pleading— begging for her to hear him out. he wasn't that type of guy, never. all of his exes got the same type of treatment, if they said that they were done, then lando wouldn't even bother.

he was a formula one driver, he didn't have the time.

but for her, he did.

she looks up, her arms still folded in front of her chest, legs curled up beneath her as she tries to find a comfortable position in an uncomfortable situation. glancing at the clock on the coffee table, it read in bright red neon numbers that it at 4:27 am, far too early or late for him to be here.

"we've had a similar conversation before, and i refused. so i'm refusing again," she sighs before meeting lando's eyes for the second time tonight, "i don't understand why you would want to keep this relationship. it doesn't benefit you for dating a poor girl."

"do you really think i care about your financial status?" lando asked, almost if it the thought of him caring about his (ex)girlfriend's financial status was ridiculous. he didn't care, it's the way she made him feel for the entirety of last year. she made him feel whole, like even if the world was against him, she would still be there.

she was used to men coming into her life who could think that they could "save" her and lando was no different to all of those other men. sure, she was definitely struggling trying to pay for her younger siblings education while working and pursuing her degree at the same time but that doesn't mean she was a damsel in distress and she expressed that to lando.

lando closed his eyes in frustration, "no, i didn't mean it like that—"

"well you sure as hell worded it like that," she looks away from him yet again, refusing to meet his eyes again until he had to leave. her eyes were glued to the window that overlooked the city, it was beautiful, calming— peaceful even, "i'm not changing my mind lando, we're worlds apart. i don't need you helping me, i can take care of myself."

with that, lando bit his lip and she ushers him out of her flat.

it had been months since lando's seen her, but he never forgot. he couldn't. the way she smelt, the way she laughed, everything still stuck in his brain as he continued his career.

the world didn't revolve around him, so the show must go on.

calling her old number had also become routine, almost an obsession. every finish, every weekend, anything that had to do with his career, lando would try and call her and tell her how his races were going, as if he wasn't talking to an automated robot on the other end of the line. the automated voice was practically his best friend because he's heard the damn voice so many times.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected. please try again later."

and try again later he would.

he didn't understand himself, was it an obsession or was it the comfort that it gave him when he dialed her number? he didn't know. but sometimes he would hold up that phone to his ear and talk as if she was on the other end of the line, even though lando knew that there was no one waiting on the other line for him, not anymore.

but, the show must go on, right?

[notsodailycake]

Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

[jaydude1992]

I'm only referring to the story told by George Lucas (i.e. not Legends or the Disney stuff he was uninvolved with), because I wasn't sure what you were referring to, and because it's gradually becoming the only one I really care for these days. Legends has been decanonized for years now, and while I'll acknowledge that the Disney stuff is official canon, I'm not obligated to ignore how parts of it (i.e. stuff written by Filoni and Headland) are wildly inconsistent with Lucas's story in regards to the Jedi (this goes for the inconsistent parts of Legends too).

If you want to do otherwise, that's fine. If you think those inconsistencies make for a better story, well, fair enough. But again, I'm under no obligation to ignore something being inconsistent with its source material. Especially when the inconsistencies in question relate to parts of the source material I actually like.

In answer to your question, in my mind, what prevents the abuses - at least in Lucas's works and those written by people who actually understand how he wrote the Jedi - is simply that Lucas never wrote the Jedi as characters who would willingly commit their like. In terms of morality, they're on a similar level to Superman; the worst they do is get a little overconfident in their ability to detect and defeat the Sith by the time of the Prequels, and prove willing to compromise on their morals a little for the sake of protecting the Republic's people and soldiers when the Clone Wars begin.

(By "prove willing to compromise on their morals", I refer to the Jedi joining the war effort in the first place, Obi-Wan and the Jedi Council faking the former's death right in front of an ignorant Anakin, and the council tasking Anakin with spying on his close friend and confident in Palpatine. All these things came from a place with good intentions; you could argue that's just another way of saying "the greater good", but I personally think they're a world apart from forcing parents to give up their children in terms of morals).

(I suppose there's also how the council handled things with Ahsoka during the Wrong Jedi arc. I'm not sure precisely what the consequences would've been if they refused to hand her over to be tried as a Republic citizen, but if nothing else, Ahsoka didn't exactly look 100% innocent, and the Jedi had already had two of their number turn out to be Sith supporters (Dooku and Krell)).

Also, this might just be me making assumptions regarding your likely reaction to the above, but I'm also going to state that Yoda and Obi-Wan never told Luke to let his friends die on Bespin, nor did they plan to have him unknowingly kill his father. Yoda and Obi-Wan had no way of knowing what would happen to Luke's friends, but they did believe - not without reason - that Luke wouldn't be able to do much to help them with his miniscule amount of Jedi training if he just flew off to Cloud City. As for killing Vader, it's a plot point that Luke risks falling to the dark side if he does so out of anger and/or a desire for revenge, under which I'd argue "avenging his father" could quite easily fall. My guess is that Yoda and Obi-Wan planned to explain the truth to him when he was wise enough to handle it, but of course Luke's recklessness and Vader himself put the kibosh on that plan.

tl;dr: Writing the Jedi as the kind of people who'd forcibly take children against their parents' will was likely never the intention of Lucas.

When a Jedi takes in a child, it's kidnapping. But when a Mandalorian does it, it's a foundling.

[sk3tch404]

Yandere Weeping Clown Thoughts!!

CW: Nothing too bad, just your usual creeper, manipulation, and analysis(?) on his character. Tbh hes so yandere coded that everything blurs together atp (and I'm using "yandere coded" sort of loosely bc that makes me sound like a yandere enabler or smth, which like, lol no but in fiction yeah funne). Called him Joker bc it was easier to use/remember than Weepy, and also bc they called them that in all the lore drop so 🤷‍♀️

A/n: Just saw the new Hullabaloo lore drop and IDV has taken me back into its clutches. He is so yandere material 🫶 Proof read enough to go "that's postable."

Joker is quite sensitive to his darlings perception of him. He always tries to do the right thing, tries to please you so that when you smile at him, that strangely unfamiliar warmth spreads through his chest. A smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, stringing his lips up as if he were a puppet. And a puppet of your design he shall be if you wished it so.

Joker is definitely a worshipping sort of yandere. He'll do most of anything for his darling if it made them just a teeny bit closer. Any progress is better than no progress. Even if it means visiting you in the dead of night to "check on you," or often "bumping into you" in places that you frequent at the manor. He'll stop bothering you if you reject his advances, but he'll come back around sooner or later. Joker doesn't want you to hate him, but he also doesn't want to be away from you! Although you may say some hurtful things like, "It's making me uncomfortable, sorry," or, "Can you leave me alone for a while," he knows deep down that if he teeters around the boundaries you set for long enough, he can wiggle his way through and to your heart. At least, that's what he hopes.

Despite his subservient nature to his darling, Joker isn't so obedient around others. He has his more introverted traits for sure, but his sensitivity to anger is fragile, especially when it comes to you. Joker doesn't have many qualms about taking a stand for you or himself if it came to it. He wants to be your protector, so he isn't very afraid to say something if he feels the need to. It can become quite the scene if the other party doesn't back down, making either you or someone else the mediator of the debacle. It's exhausting to have to manage your persistent follower, but it's better to handle a situation rather than let it spiral out of control, leaving the consequences of his mental break to you.

With his fragility also comes his keen eye for any chances to take advantage of a situation. Joker isn't very intimidating physically or feared for being calculating, but he is usually dismissed, and that makes for perfect cover if he plays his cards right. Framing people for his crimes can be a walk in the park depending on the situation, and manipulating those weaker than him isn't something he wholeheartedly takes pride in, but if it's for you, if it's for you, the singular most important person and one he adores most in his rotten life, then he's happy to oblige. If it wins you over in the end, then that's all that matters, right?

Joker will try to convince his darling to stay by his side and will get more desperate depending on the circumstances. He's not a kidnapper type, more of an idealist. Not to confuse that with delusional though. Joker knows full well how you probably feel about your strained relationship, but if he doesn't try now, he'll never get to be with you, and that's unacceptable. He wants to live a romantic and sweet life with you day in and day out, so he'd hate to see you miserable and locked up. If he can't love you the way he wants to, then what would be the point?

Even with that, Joker isn't above guilt tripping or petty manipulation tactics like that. He really can be unpredictable at times and can become very dangerous if his darling constantly shows no interest. Although he is a romantic idealist in his mind with you, he's also the type to slip into the "if I can't have you, no one can" mentality. He might just end up hurting his darling, but it won't be anything too drastic by the time it happens. Joker would feel terrible, terrified, and utterly disgusted with himself after seeing your petrified state. He'd drop to his knees and attempt to mutter consoling words, somewhat even begging for your forgiveness.

"Y- Y/n, no, oh no, no... Y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please. Don't cry, I didn't mean to. I truly am sorry. I had just- I wasn't thinking straight. I would never hurt you. If only you hadn't done this, then... No, just come back to me Y/n."

He is still quite demanding even while apologizing, which would make your fear even greater. Joker doesn't want to force his darling's hand, but if it really came down to it, he'd give his darling a grade A verbally manipulative beat down. He'll use anything and everything against you so that all else but him looks ugly in that moment. Sure being at the receiving end of his unstable anger was horrifying, but be honest with yourself, were it not for him who has saved you countless times in both matches and inside the manor, you would be long dead by now. Anything is on the table, anything just so you will come back to him once more. He has little to no guilt in it, just the fear that he will seriously break if you're still in a right state of mind. So, in turn, he'll unfortunately have to break you first.

[novankenn]

( Inspired by THIS post by @pilot-boi )

Pyrrha Nikos was absolutely stunned how things had turned out, and none of it made a fucking lick of sense. First there was the hit. Who the hell puts a hit on the Arcs? Seriously the large unassuming family, and she meant that in the literal sense owned a vineyard! They made wine! Mind you really good wine. But still! It made no sense.

Then there was the target. Jaune Arc. If he and his family were faunus, Pyrrha would bet without hesitation they would all be "Golden Retriever" faunus. The kid, even though he was the same age as Pyrrha, was dense, oblivious, cute, air headed. WAIT! Did she just call her intended target, CUTE?

Shaking her head, she tried to get the thought out of her head, only for traitorous mind to replace "cute" with "loveable". Pyrrha sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"How did this simple job get so, complicated?" she complained to herself, even though she was currently calling in a cleaning crew do deal with the current mess she was standing in the middle of. They had been a small crew of three mid-tiers. Good enough to take out an obvious idiot of a target, but not even in the ball-park of Pyrrha.

This was getting out of hand. These gals were like the fifth attempt that Pyrrha had to step in and quash. She wanted to say she was just protecting her VERY impressive payday, but she also couldn't suppress the slight hint of anger with herself for being unable to finish the contract, but instead had become the adorable moron's.

"Argh!" she growled in frustration. She had done it again! Applying "lovey-dovey" terms to a target! Her target!

"Ms Nikos." came the monotone, but respective tone of Cardin, leader of team CRDL. Pyrrha didn't like their attitude, she in fact despised Cardin for his reported... proclivities with faunus. But the fact remained they were the best of any cleaning crew.

"Here." Pyrrha handed over a set of golden tokens. It was an unusual system. Each token was valued at a set amount, and were used at a "distributor" to receive the actual lien payment for services rendered. "Trust the normal rate applied for a multi."

"It does." Cardin replied, as he put the tokens into his pocket. "We'll take it from here."

Nodding Pyrrha, moved off, power walking out to the crowded streets of Vale, intent on finding her quarry and ending this job. She had delayed long enough, it was time to...

"I'm never going to be able to pull the trigger." she lamented to herself. "How many times has it been? Every fucking time, I hesitate and just let him walk away!"

Pulling out her scroll, she activated the trace app. She had been able to tag his scroll, which he NEVER turned off, and could find him where ever he was. Wait this was saying he was right BEHIND HER! Pyrrha whipped around, and sure enough Jaune was standing behind her, a loveable dopey smile on his face.

"Here." he continued to smile as he handed her an ice cream cone. A literal ice cream cone! "Seen you around a lot, and you always seem stressed, so I figure this might take your mind off whatever is bother you."

"Seen me around?" Pyrrha's mind was a whirl with questions. How did this idiotic adorable moron, notice her around!

"Yep. You know if you're going to be my new bodyguard, you might as well just walk around with me, instead of hiding. I mean I get it, but it feel funny."

Pyrrha was dumb founded. The Dense, oblivious cutie thought she was hired to protect him, and not off him! With her mind in shock she reached out and accepted the ice.

"I hope vanilla is okay?" Jaune commented, as Pyrrha gave her cone a lick. "If not I can go get another flavor."

"Vanilla is fine." Pyrrha replied

[heeambi]

ꞌꞋ ࣪ _ Matured Love ✿ . ꒱

pairings . ꒱ jake’s bsf jungwon x Older sister

Contains . ꒱ Sexual Fantasy . Explicit Content . Sexual Tension . Mature themes . Erotica . Smut . Sexual Imagery . Explict Language

count . 4.1k

. ꒱ . ( I think I might be missing some that it contains, but I'm so tired right now, so if I missed one, please don't mind it. )

He had always considered his best friend’s aka Jake’s older sister as someone unattainable, she was more older, matured, and had such confidence that made her seem out of his league. But, as he spent more time with her, jungwon started to see beneath the surface, slowly falling in love with her warmth, intelligence, and kindness. He tried to deny these feelings straight away, believing it to be a very impossible love, he hopes that maybe, just maybe, you guys could be more than just friends.

He became more and more aware of his feelings.. He finds himself constantly seeking her company. Whether it's a casual hangout or a group activity, he makes sure to be there, always so secretly stealing glances at you, appreciating your smile and the way that you speaks. He then begins to notice the small details about you, the way that your eyes lit up when you laugh, the way your hair falls across your face, the smell of your sweet perfume. He's so utterly smitten.

But as the time goes on, his feelings for you only grew stronger for you. He's always thinking about you when he's alone, wondering what you're doing at all times, wishing he could spend time with you. He even dreams about you (ALOT), wondering what it could be like if he was able to hold you or even kiss your lips.

His mind began to wander, The mere thought of them drove him wild, and he would feel against your soft skin or what they would do if he had a chance to taste them. His thoughts were quickly turned into erotic fantasies, and he couldn't even dent the stirring in his lower region at the mere thought of her mouth, specifically wrapped right around his….cock

As his fantasies had consumed him, Jungwon just couldn't resist letting put soft moans, his hand casually drifting towards his grown bulge in his jeans. He imagined your soft plumped lips, those so very enchanting red curves, trailing teasingly and slowly down his chest. reaching his abdomen before reaching their destination.

oh, but the thought of your mouth enveloping his throbbing painful length, the warm wetness and gentle suction as you would suck him off, was almost too much for him to handle. He bit his lip, trying to stifle his moans, as his fingers fumbled with the zipper to his jeans.

Finally freeing his hard cock, he stroked it slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as he began to lose himself in the vivid fantasty. He pictured your smaller frame looking up at him with those captivating eyes, your tongue darting out to lick his tip before you took him deep into your hot, eagered mouth.

His breathing grew heavier as he pleasured himself, his hips rocking them slightly. He imagined burying his hands in your hair, guiding your movements gently as you bobbed up and down his shaft. The wet sounds of this fantasy blowjob filled his ears.

Jungwon was approaching his peak, the fantasy shifted suddenly. Instead of your mouth, he pictured plunging his cock deep into your tight, wet pussy. The way he had imagined it sent him over the edge, he soon came hard, spurting thick ropes of his cum onto his abdomen and chest.

Just as he was coming down from his climax, he heard a knock on the guest bedroom door. “Hey, wonie, can I come in? I gotta ask you smth!” Jungwon, startled, quickly covered himself with a pillow and called out slightly embarrassed, “Um, j-just a minute! I'm, uh, CHANGING!!”

You raised a brow suspiciously “oh, okay…. Hurry up alright? I don't got all day.” he hastily pulled up his pants and zipped his pants zipper. Making sure to keep the pillow strategically placed in his lap. He then took a deep breath and called out, “Okay!!! You can come in now!”

Y/n had now entered the room, immediately noticing the slight sweat on the younger males face and the nervous look in his eyes. “Uhm, you okay there?” once again raising her brow at him “you look flustered.” He tried to hide his embarrassment, just laughing it off, “oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine! Just a little hot in here, that's all.. What did you need to ask me?”

“Just that I wanted to ask if you could help me move some boxes tomorrow. But seeing how “hot” you are, maybe i’ll ask someone else instead…” Jungwon, still very nervous, quickly responded, “what? No, no! I can't help! I was just…. Working out. That's why I'm so sweaty!! I’ll help you with the boxes, no problem”

Y/n was still not completely convinced, but accepting his answer “Mmm, Alright, if you're sure.. Mett me at my place tomorrow morning then. And do not be late!” Jungwon nodded weakly, silently praying that you hadn't seen or guessed what he had really been doing a few moments ago.. But as you reach the door, you turned back to him.

“Oh, and by the way, you might want to do a better job at bidding your.….erm, workout equipment, next door.” his heart skipped a beat as you gave him a knowing smirk before leaving the room. He immediately looked down at the pillow in his lap, now realizing there was a very obvious stain on it. He groaned embarrassingly, burying his face in his hands.

Creds go to @cafekitsune for the dividers !!

[baldurs-gape]

Best. Day. Ever.

Who knew that vampiric elves could get appendicitis? Not Gale, that's for sure. He had kissed Astarion goodbye in the car before getting a train to a conference. The plan had been to be away for three days. Alas, on the second day he got a call from Karlach of all people to say she was in hospital with Astarion, he was being wheeled off to the operating theatre with a suspected ruptured appendix. Never before had Gale cursed public transport more, rushing to his room to shove everything into a suitcase and running for a bus to take him to the train station.

"How is he?" He asked Karlach from the taxi that would finally get him to the hospital.

"Just waking up, they've let me sit with him."

"Thank you. I'll be there in ten minutes." Holding the phone away from his mouth, Gale leaned forward to talk to the driver. "I will pay you double your rate if you get me there in five minutes."

Still on the phone, he blindly handed over notes and waved off any change. "Right, through the main entrance, first set of stairs on the right, up a flight, out the corridor and?"

"Turn right, past the corridor to the theatres and it's the next corridor with double doors on the left. It's signposted." Karlach laughed softly. "You're going to love this, he's adorable."

Adorable was not a word Gale would have usually applied to Astarion and his brows rose. Almost tripping up the stairs, he tried not to sprint the last little bit. Slipping through the double doors, the nurses' station was manned by a couple of people, one of whom pointed him to a curtained off rail. Tugging his shirt straight, Gale walked over and took a moment to listen to Karlach's voice, soft and gentle.

"-and then we had to phone Dammon to help us untangle our horns. Can you believe Wyll almost broke my other one? He didn't dare kiss me for days afterward!"

Along with her warm cadence was the steady beep of a machine, no doubt monitoring all sorts of vitals. At least it was all steady and nobody was coming running. Gale stepped in.

The beeping of the machine stopped for a moment, missing one of the regular beats before picking up at a faster pace.

"Wow." Astarion was staring at him with wide eyes, mouth a little open. "You're beautiful."

Usually Gale would have laughed it off, it was something Astarion liked to tell him to fluster him. However, none of the usual teasing was there, just honest awe.

"I could say the same about you," he replied and stepped closer, taking one of Astarion's hands in his. "How are you feeling?"

To his chagrin, the hand was pulled from his with a soft "oh no, no thank you" and Astarion stared up at him, heart still beating fast. Next to the bed, Karlach looked like she was about to lose her battle against laughter.

"You're kind but I'm married," Astarion continued staring at Gale, unblinking.

"I know." Holding up his hand, Gale showed his ring. "I'm married to you."

"Really?" The joy on Astarion's face was unguarded and pure. "You really chose to marry me?"

Reaching out again, Gale's hand was grabbed this time and the ring was inspected as Astarion pulled himself up to get a better look.

"I put that on you. With your permission!" As quickly as Gale's hand was grabbed, it was released as Astarion flopped back and grinned up at the ceiling, a huff of a laugh escaped him before he turned to look at Karlach. "Did you know I was allowed to marry him?"

"I was there, Fangs, as your best man."

If it was possible, Astarion's eyes went wider and he smiled like he'd won the lottery, eyes closed.

"I have friends. Who came to my wedding. To my husband." The words became a mumble but as Karlach and Gale's eyes met, they heard one more sleepy murmur. "Best. Day. Ever."

[hollowed-theory-hall]

It's true we don't know a lot about her, but what we do know implies she is very magically talented and has a bit of a cruel streak to her. She isn't as perfect as some portray her, nor as awful as I've seen some claim her to be. but oh boy do I disagree about her being mediocre.

Let's talk about the magical power first, becouse I feel a lot of people underestimate Lily's magical talent.

“Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it’s clear you’ve inherited your mother’s talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are — one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!”

(HBP)

I know some people like to claim Lily was only good at potions because of Snape, but I don't think that's the case. I'm sure he helped her out at first, but they stopped being friends at 5th year and she continued to seemingly have good grades at Potions since Slughorn really loves her.

As a child, Lily has incredible control over her accidental magic and accomplishes difficult magic naturally and intuitively:

But the girl had let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flown into the air, quite literally flown, launched herself skyward with a great shout of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, she soared like a trapeze artist through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly.

(DH)

Lily had picked up a fallen flower from the bush behind which Snape lurked. Petunia advanced, evidently torn between curiosity and disapproval. Lily waited until Petunia was near enough to have a clear view, then held out her palm. The flower sat there, opening and closing its petals, like some bizarre, many-lipped oyster.

(DH)

This is way more advanced than magic usually shown by kids, especially because of how controlled it is. The only other character we see on level with Lily's control at such a young age (and who mastered unaided flight on their own) is Voldemort.

Harry also shows insanely powerful accidental magic (including Apparation) and let's just say, I don't think Harry's magical talent came from James.

Lily was both Prefect and head girl (like Tom) again showing she had a great academic track record and was likely a top student in many of her classes. We know she was good at Potions, but she was likely very adapt at Charms as well:

You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work

(PS)

Now, I talked in the past on here about how Harry is insanely magically powerful, specifically when it came to intuitive magic that just reacted to his emotions/desires or him being able to feel magic (this is that post). If we take Dumbledore at his word on how Lily cast her sacrificial love on Harry (which I tend to do) her sacrificial magic was insanely intuitive magic like we see Harry repeatedly do throughout the books.

I think the reason no one else ever did is because of the specific circumstances and Lily's specific words, yes, but I also think, that like her son, she had a knack for her magic responding intuitively to her desires no spell needed. This is a mark of a very powerful wizard/witch and not something a mediocre wizard would be likely to accomplish.

We see Harry cast this same sacrificial love in DH. And he, too, doesn't really cast anything, it's intuitive, his magic is powerful and incredibly reactive to his emotions — and I believe Lily was the same.

JKR has mentioned Voldemort tried to convince James and Lily to become Death Eaters, more than once ("Thrice defied him"). He wouldn't have given them more than one chance if either of them was mediocre. I also don't think he would've tried to get Lily to step aside so he wouldn't have to kill her as many times as he did if he thought she was average at best.

As for her personality, you're right, she isn't exactly Harry, but they do share some very important traits, and as I said, I think she and Tom would clash less than Harry and Tom (as in Lily doesn't get angry the way Harry does, so their reactions would be different).

Lily acted charming and prideful:

She turned, nose in the air, and marched off towards her sister.

(DH)

“Hmpf. Yes, well. You shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother,” Slughorn added, in answer to Harry’s questioning look. “Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl. I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too.”

(HBP)

Slughorn talks about Lily's personality more than any other character, and what he says does paint her as similar to Harry.

She was talented and bright. Slughorn, who thought Tom Riddle, considers Lily Potter one of the brightest students he ever thought. She was in no way mediocre.

She was charming and had a firey personality to her. She was enthusiastic and charismatic and was easily likable.

I especially like what Slughorn says about Lily being good for Slytherin. Like Harry, she was likely considered by the hat for both Slytherin and Gryffindor due to her cleverness and bravery being both part of her.

And these cheeky answers Slghorn refers to, are like Harry's. Harry is the cheeky student Slughorn is referring to in the same breath as Lily's. Harry got his sass from Lily, not from James. Harry's tendency to back-talk Dark Lords came from his mom.

She's more scared when she's younger, crying more, but she clearly grows up to be fiercer, as Slughorn mentions and as we see in some of the memories:

“Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too! You’re not going to — I won’t let you — ” “Let me? Let me?” Lily’s bright green eyes were slits. Snape backtracked at once.

(DH)

As for the cruel streak I mentioned:

Lily, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though she was going to smile, said, “Let him down!”

(OotP)

Lily, even as Snape's best friend, can't help but find the bullying funny for just a moment. It means her sense of humor can be on the crueler side at times. The fact that it's implied, even during SWM that Lily didn't really hate James, just disliked his behavior is quite telling. Like, I don't think he needed to change much for her to go out with him. Sirius even says he mostly just stopped hexing people in the halls. I think he wasn't as arrogant, but he was probably still very egocentric. And Lily liked that (contrary to Harry who'd find it more annoying).

Additionally, when Lily wants to, she knows to hit where it hurts (the Slytherin streak Slughorn talks about?):

“That’s where you’re going,” said Petunia with relish. “A special school for freaks. You and that Snape boy ... weirdos, that’s what you two are. It’s good you’re being separated from normal people. It’s for our safety.” Lily glanced toward her parents, who were looking around the platform with an air of wholehearted enjoyment, drinking in the scene. Then she looked back at her sister, and her voice was low and fierce. “You didn’t think it was such a freak’s school when you wrote to the headmaster and begged him to take you.” Petunia turned scarlet.

(DH)

She knows Petunia and she knows what would hurt/embarrass her the most and she goes for the throat. Even if later she tries to smooth things over with her.

I also wanted to note her wand. Ollivanders said she had a Willow wand, and willow wands have some interesting facts about them:

Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.

(From Pottermore)

(Ron has a Willow wand too, btw, like the second wand he gets that is really his)

This implies Lily was insecure, and you kinda see it in her behavior as a child. Her deference to Petunia and how many questions she asks Snape:

“Normally,” said Snape. “But you’re Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents.” “Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?”

(DH)

She is scared, walking up to the sorting hat:

He watched his mother walk forward on trembling legs and sit down upon the rickety stool. Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat onto her head, and barely a second after it had touched the dark red hair, the hat cried, “ Gryffindor”

(DH)

But the hat placed her in Gryffindor becouse of the bravery was there. The insecurity isn't warranted (according to the wand's description). She had the fire and fierceness there all along. she may thought herself average but it was never true.

The description of the wand also suggests Lily would've been quite good with advanced non-verbal magic, which fits everything I mentioned about her magic being very intuitive like Harry's in the first section here.

Sorry I went off on Lily so much, but I don't think a character who Harry shares some of his core traits and magical talent with, could be mediocre. I mean, you can think whatever you want, and I didn't mean to attack you or anything I just really disagree with your statement.

hello! i was wondering whether or not you can envision someone as better suited for tom/voldemort since i remember you saying neither harry nor hermione would be a match — them being the most popular two characters shipped with tom. and on that note, what do you think about bellatrix and voldemort? pro/against?

i tend to get a bit blindsided by the sheer obsession she has for him, honestly. i mean… i feel like she would be willing to shape herself down to the last atom to what appeals to him, if he ever were to show any true interest, and that’s very… sad.

Hello 👋

Thank you for the ask and as with all ship asks, ship what you ship, these are just my subjective opinions.

Now, what I said about Tomarrymort is that I don't think they would realistically get together and have a functioning relationship, I didn't say it wasn't fun. Like, I love Tomarrymort, but only if the relationship is a messy push and pull that makes everyone (both involved and uninvolved) miserable.

Now, as for Bellamort...

Do I think they had sex at some point in canon? Maybe. Like, that's not the most absurd thing about CC for me, so I consider it plausible.

Do I think Voldemort actually likes Bella romantically? Not really.

Do I think their relationship works like an actual equal functional relationship? Not one bit.

Do I think their relationship is entertaining and interesting? I mean, clearly, many people do, but I don't like Bellamort.

Like, it really doesn't interest me. There's a reason I only like Tomarrymort when there's a push and pull and Harry and Tom are portrayed as the equals they are. Like, I don't like Tomarrymort where Harry is completely submissive to Voldemort and Bellamort for the same reason — these aren't the kind of relationships that make Tom interesting.

I like both Tom and Bellatrix a lot as individuals, but I don't think a romantic and/or sexual relationship between them pushes their characters to interesting places. They are both stagnate in this relationship and, for me personally, that just doesn't interest me.

Like, Bellatrix is completely submissive to Voldemort nodding her head excitedly and panting after him: "Yes my lord! Whatever you say, my lord!" And this is not the type of dynamic that'd push either character towards growth. They don't push each other into a character arc, which is what I usually like my ships to do.

Additionally, this dynamic basically means Voldemort always gets what he wants, and Bellatrix is happy with it, as you said, she'd shape herself for his every whim. This isn't a relationship between equals. It's a relationship where she worships him and he doesn't respect her or care about her as a person. Like, at all.

The dynamic we see from them in the books gave me the impression Voldemort cares about Bellatrix. He doesn't want her to be hurt or to die:

Bellatrix’s gloating smile froze, her eyes began to bulge: For the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.

(DH)

But he cares about her like how you care about your favorite pet. He relished in giving her orders and having her submit completely:

“Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!” sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort’s feet as he paced slowly nearer. “Master, you should know —” “Be quiet, Bella,” said Voldemort dangerously. “I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?” “But Master — he is here — he is below —” Voldemort paid no attention.

(OotP)

He doesn't actually care about her being hurt if it's not too bad, he doesn't care about her feelings or apologies, especially not when Harry is right in front of him — his obsession, his one failure. Bellatrix takes a backseat, basically always. He doesn't care about her all that much. He cares and respects her like a loyal dog, not like a person he has a relationship with.

He also relished in humiliating and embarrassing her. He likes making fun of her in ways Bella clearly does not enjoy, which isn't something you'd do to someone you love:

“I’m talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And your, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.” There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks, a few thumped the table with their fists. The great snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant where that at Bellatrix and the Malfoys’ humiliation. Bellatrix’s face, so recently flushed with happiness, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.

(DH)

she's desperate to please him, to tell him everything she thinks he wants to hear and she happily lets him treat her like fucking dirt. I don't find a relationship like that compelling, as I said, Voldemort would never change for Bellatrix and Bellatrix honestly deserves better than this. He even lets other Death Eaters jeer and laugh at her, this is not a romantic relationship.

Like even if he had sex with her, it was purely physical as he just doesn't care about her as a person like this. As more than a faithful servant (which he enjoys making fun of, as he does so for many of them).

And he is unwilling to show her real, unintentional weakness or ask her for help:

“My Lord, let me—” “I do not require assistance,” said Voldemort coldly, and though he could not see it, Harry pictured Bellatrix withdrawing a helpful hand.

(DH)

He does trust her with one of his Horcrux as the cup is kept in her vault and she seems to know what it is:

“Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!” She stood, panting slightly, looking down at the sword, examining its hilt. Then she turned to look at the silent prisoners. “If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed,” she muttered, more to herself than to the others. “The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself. . . . But if he finds out . . . I must . . . I must know. . . .”

(DH)

He trusts her loyalty, and she is one of his preferred Death Eaters (he doesn't hate her like he does Wormtail, Tom appreciates courage and loyalty, which are both traits Bellatrix possesses) but he clearly doesn't trust her with his backstory in the first war:

“Shut your mouth!” Bellatrix shrieked. “You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood’s tongue, you dare —” “Did you know he’s a half-blood too?” said Harry recklessly. Hermione gave a little moan in his ear. “Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch but his dad was a Muggle — or has he been telling you lot he’s pureblood?” “STUPEF —” “NO!” A jet of red light had shot from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand, but Malfoy had deflected it. His spell caused hers to hit the shelf a foot to the left of Harry and several of the glass orbs there shattered. [...] “He dared — he dares —” shrieked Bellatrix incoherently. “— He stands there — filthy half-blood —”

(OotP)

She doesn't really know who Voldemort is. She worships the persona of Voldemort. She loves his lies and masks. She doesn't actually know Tom Riddle. And I don't think she could accept and love the real Tom Riddle behind the title of Voldemort — the poor but brilliant nerdy half-blood who craves recognition. She would find him pathetic.

It's basically Hinny, isn't it?

She adores his persona and fame and what people think he is without actually knowing or understanding him. She changes her personality to fit what she thinks his girl needs to be because she is so focused on being with him. And He likes that she doesn't get in his way and lets him do and say whatever without crying about it but doesn't care about her or her feelings nearly as much as people think.

Bellamort is just Hinny with a different skin, and I never liked Hinny.

Like Hinny, they don't know or understand each other, and it's clear Bella and Ginny care about Voldemort and Harry more than the boys care about them. Like, yes, Harry would be devastated if Ginny died, but he'd get over it way faster than he did about Sirius. Same for Voldemort, he cares about Bella, but not as an equal he understands and cares for the feelings of. Voldemort got over Bella's death fairly quickly as well, he's way more focused on Harry.

So, with all of this, who do I think is the best pairing for Voldemort?

If we're talking about canon characters who are actually characters in the books? Then Harry is my top choice. Harry is the only one Voldemort would see as an equal and can actually push and change Voldemort as much as Voldemort changes him. There is no other character in canon, I believe, who would be able to do this to the level Harry could. Their dynamic is just so mutually obsessive and tense that a relationship like that can't not change both of them in a myriad of interesting ways.

Though, I was thinking about it, and Severus/Voldemort have potential. Voldemort clearly respects Sev and his opinions more than the average Death Eater:

Snape did not speak. “Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen.” “My Lord—”

(DH)

He cares about him and regrets having to kill him:

Harry saw Snape’s face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake’s fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. “I regret it,” said Voldemort coldly

(DH)

Voldy is willing to forgive Sev for things he'd kill most for. They have so much shared experience (poor, muggle childhood in incredibly abusive environments) that would allow them to understand each other. They probably both get frustrated over pureblood idiocy. Both are intelligent and share many interests, like they're both magic nerds who'd talk all night about magical theory...

So, I think, under the right circumstances, Severus is a pretty good pairing for Voldemort.

The only real downside is that depending on when they get together, they'd push each other to be more extremist and overall worse. Like, they'd push each other to have less empathy for other people if they get together, say, during the first war. Well, it might not be a downside. It really depends on how you look at it.

If they get together in the second war, it's different, and in my opinion, more compelling and interesting for both of them. Like, pairing them up after Voldemort's return and after Sev already turned traitor opens so many interesting avenues. I mean, Sev was someone Voldemort actually regretted killing, that was remorse there, wasn't it? It means Severus could push Voldemort to change in a way Bellatrix doesn't. Because Voldemort respects Snape in a way he doesn't respect Bella. I mean, think about how many times Voldemort shut Bella down when she kept insisting Snape is a traitor — it's clear he values Snape more than he values her.

If we're also looking at side characters we don't know as much about, then we have some more options.

@iamnmbr3 has convinced me that Alphard Black/Tom Riddle is an option, and I have been very compelled by it. We don't know much about Alphard, but that never really stopped me because what we do know is interesting.

We know he is Sirius' uncle. He was born after Walburga but before Cygnus, probably closer in age to Walburga. So, I headcanon he was born in 1927 and was in the same year as Tom Riddle.

We know Alphard was a Slytherin since Sirius mentions all his family was in Slytherin, which would include his uncle. And we know Alphard was burned off the family tapestry when he gave Sirius money when Sirius ran away from home.

This leaves us with a character, who's cunning, capable of listening to his older sister Walburga go off about whatever without making the fight worse but has a spine to stand up to her bullshit when it's actually important. This gives him the right characteristics to be able to wrangle a character arc out of a romance with a younger Tom Riddle (and perhaps the older one, too).

He's a pureblood who's open-minded enough to support Sirius and not hate muggleborns (probably). He likely has the subtlety necessary to fix Tom without Tom feeling like he's being fixed. Alphard, used to his very eventful family, is an expert in dealing with dramatic people (like his siblings) and how to undercut their drama instead of pushing them further into their position (which is what Harry would do, for example. Harry and Tom would keep pushing at each other while someone like Alphard would be able to just remove the heat from the argument and allow it to not get as extreme).

Again, it's not much to go on, but it has so much potential.

(Also, @iamnmbr3 has this post about how Voldemort’s violence became worse in 1979, which happens to be the same year Alphard Black died, and while I don't agree with all the points made there, I find it to be a super fun concept)

Voldemort/Lily also has potential. She's smart, stubborn, academically inclined, and has the right rough edges to have the kind of push-and-pull dynamic with Voldemort that I like with Tomarrymort. Lily is probably the kind of witch Voldemort could grow to respect as well. I don't think he would've agreed to spare her for Snape if he didn't respect both of them. JKR also said he tried to recruit James and Lily, so, he was aware that she was talented.

I think, though, Lily/Voldemort would be slightly better than Harry/Voldemort in some aspects. Lily isn't as hot-headed as Harry. Lily's anger is usually much colder, which I feel would work better with Tom just because she wouldn't push all his buttons (just most of them). She would still push him into a character arc, but it would be a gentler nudge than if Harry did it.

My only real rule when shipping Tommy Boy is that he can't be shipped with someone mediocre, he'll just steamroll over them completely, and that's not as fun, in my opinion. He needs a partner he can grow to respect and see as an equal (or close to it) and that has the spine to stand up to him, otherwise, he'd just keep getting what he wants, and I think that's the opposite of what Voldemort needs in a relationship.

[myusuchaa]

with you in a distorted fairy tale ༻¨*:·.

'dark if ' chapter 2 - elbert greetia

<- Chapter 1

This is a fan translation and may not be 100% accurate. I do not own anything. Cybird reserves the right of ownership for all in-game content.

author's note: Throughout this story, Kate refers to Elbert with feminine pronouns 彼女, and Elbert's title is the Queen 女王. Therefore, in sentences where Elbert is the main subject, sometimes you will see Elbert's pronouns listed as she/her. (i.e, "Elbert removed her hands"). This may be a bit confusing to read through, but I wanted to keep the translation as accurate and close to the original material as possible.

Mirror Alfons: I've come to see the Princes gathered here--... Ah, no well, to see what was going on, but...

Mirror Alfons: My dear Elbert and Miss Kate, why on earth are you two so exhausted?

Mirror Alfons: Not to mention, I don't even see any Princes around.

Kate: Ah, those who came here all posed some type of problem, so we've asked each and every one of them to leave.

Some of them actually went after Queen Elbert, others were after the gold and silver treasures of this castle, and still others were only interested in picking up the maids.

To top it all off, the moment I was alone with a suitor, he tried to attack me.... the list just goes on and on.

Queen Elbert: All the men we called here today have been rejected.

Mirror Alfons: My goodness, what an utter failure. Well, at least Miss Kate seems somewhat alright.

Kate: Whenever there was a problem, Queen Elbert would step in.

Queen Elbert: I didn't think a single one of those men would make you more beautiful.....

Kate: Exactly! Yes, thank you Queen Elbert...

If I thanked him, Elbert would smile at me.

To be honest, I don't remember any of the faces of the men I met today. Elbert's smile was just so dazzling... I was sure I'd never forget it.....

Mirror Alfons: Oh my... you two are staring at each other quite passionately. You two must have become quite close, no?

Mirror Alfons: Why, when I picked you up, you had all your hair standing on their ends, much like a stray cat.

Kate: Well... when you took me in, I mistakenly thought that Queen Elbert was a scary person.

I was wary of Elbert because there was a possibility that he would harm me, just like the true fairy tale story.

Kate: But, after spending more time with her, it became very apparent that Queen Elbert is a nice and kind person.

Kate: How could I not fall in love.... with someone like Elbert?

Queen Elbert: .....thank you, Kate.

Kate: It would be amazing if Elbert was actually a prince...

Since Lady Elbert was a Queen, that would be impossible. And if someone as wonderful as she were to appear before me, I would choose him as my prince with no hesitation.

I mumbled these thoughts to myself....

Queen Elbert: Thank you Kate.... to be admired in such a way, by you.... makes me happy.

Queen Elbert: And... the way you are trying so earnestly to find your prince, makes you seem radiant....

Queen Elbert: I feel like I'm getting closer to finding the most beautiful thing in the world that I desire.

I was once again captivated by a happy Elbert's exquisite smile.

(...aahhh no! I have to find my prince! I don't have any time to be attracted to the Queen!)

I was desperate to calm my pounding heart, which was beating wildly on its own.

Kate: Ahem, well.. In any case, I'll try my best to find my prince again starting tomorrow.

--time skip--

The search for the Prince lasted several days, only to end with fruitless results.

Queen Elbert: Let's take a break from searching for princes today.

While finishing breakfast, Elbert spoke up.

Kate: Yeah, we should... we won't find anyone at all if it keeps up at this rate.

(If this is the turn out so far, then no doubt what is missing from this story is the Prince.)

(To straighten out the story, I think it would be best to find someone to just fill in as the "missing Prince".)

(The Prince huh.....)

I unconsciously looked over at Elbert, who was having breakfast at the opposite side of the table.

(No, noo... She is a Queen!! She can't be a prince!!!!....)

Queen Elbert: ....Kate? You look gloomy.... is something wrong?

Kate: No not at all! It's just troubling, not being able to find the Prince.

(It was such a shame that Elbert couldn't become the Prince... and more so that I can't say that out loud.)

I put on a silly smile to cover up my thoughts.

After studying my face for some time, Elbert softly spoke.

Queen Elbert: Since we are not searching for princes today... I would be delighted if you join me in browsing for new clothes for you. If you'd like...

--after the tailor brings a catalogue--

Kate: Waaaoow!

After breakfast, Elbert showed me to a room filled with dresses and jewelry.

Tailor: Thank you very much for your order this time.

Tailor: We have a ride range of items today, from trendy articles to designs that have been loved for ages.

Tailor: Please let us know if you need help in trying on any of the items.

Kate: Heheh... Lady Elbert, anything here would look good on you!

Queen Elbert: Ah, no, not now... Today, I am choosing your new dress.

Kate: M- mine?!

Queen Elbert: A new dress will surely help you find your prince.

Queen Elbert: Plus, I thought this would be a nice change of pace for you...

(Oh... I think Elbert is trying to cheer me up because I'm feeling down since I can't find a prince.)

(.....what an extremely kinda person...)

Kate: Aah.. thank you so very much, Elbert!!

Kate: Since this is a rare opportunity, I'll take you up on your offer!

My heart is filled with Elbert's consideration for me, and just thinking about it makes me feel better.

Then, after looking at some dresses with Elbert, I decided to buy one that I particularly liked.

Queen Elbert: ....just one dress?

Kate: Yes, and it's plenty! Thank you for everything.

To treat me, Snow White, so very well.... Queen Elbert is certainly different from the Queen of the original story.

(Maybe this... is a direct consequence of the distorted fairy tale?)

As long as I could remain by the kind Elbert's side, maybe I would be alright staying trapped here...

I then shook my head to clear away the selfish thoughts that crossed my mind.

Kate: By the way, why don't you pick out a new dress too, Lady Elbert?

Kate: Or next time, please allow me to find one for you!

Queen Elbert: Oh, no I-......

Elbert lowered her eyes in confusion, but I think she was just being reserved.

I looked around the room at all the dresses lined up. Then-

Kate: Look, what about this one, Elbert? I think this would look great on you.

Tailor: Ah- pardon me for intruding but... Miss.. that clothing is for men..

Tailor: Even though the Queen is indeed the type of person that could look good in anything, this is... a bit...

Kate: Eh?! *looks at the clothing she is holding* A-aaahh yes... you are very right.... please excuse what I said!

(Truly, the outfit I chose is clearly a man's outfit from every angle.....) [1]

[1] Here, signs are showing of Alfons's power weakening and Kate getting confused at what is true/what she is seeing. She is outwardly agreeing that Elbert is a woman, but her instincts sense and feel Elbie to be a man.

(Why exactly did I think this would suit Elbert so well??)

(Even though Elbert is clearly a "woman".)

Queen Elbert: Kate. I appreciate your thoughts, but I like my current clothes, so I don't think... I need anything new....

Kate: Oh is that so..

Queen Elbert: I'm so sorry.. even though you took the time to choose something...

Kate: Oh no! Sorry for being so intrusive...

In the end, Elbert only bought a dress for me, and nothing for herself.

--after dinner--

When returning to my room after eating dinner, Alfons called out to me.

Mirror Alfons: I heard that, apparently, you were trying to buy some men's clothes for Elbert.

Kate: Oh.. at that time, I thought those men's clothes would look good on her.

Kate: ..... That's strange, isn't it? Lady Elbert is a beautiful woman......

Mirror Alfons: Yes, that is strange indeed. "Lady Elbert is a beautiful woman."

As he agreed with my sentiment, Alfons removed his gloves and stroked the back of my neck.

Kate: ....? What.. what was that, suddenly....

Mirror Alfons: You started speaking strangely, so strangely that I thought you had a fever.... alas, your temperature was normal.

Kate: Normally, you don't check the temperature for a fever at the nape of the neck....

Although I was confused by Alfons's behavior, ultimately it was Elbert that occupied all the space in my mind.

Kate: ...Alfons, why is it that Elbert collects beautiful things?

Mirror Alfons: That's an easy question to answer, though, well.. I'm not sure if I should answer it.

Kate: Hmm, as I thought.....

Mirror Alfons: *unsettled* 'As you thought'...?

Kate: When Elbert says she likes collecting beautiful things, she sounds desperate and... painful...

Kate: It didn't seem like she was just collecting things just because she liked to.

It almost felt like she was forcing herself into a corner and exacting punishment by having to find something beautiful.

Kate: So, I'm glad to know there are at least some circumstances as to why it's difficult to say so..

Kate: I will be sure not to ask Elbert herself why she collects them...

Mirror Alfons: And so, you decided to ask me beforehand.

Kate: Yes. I was sure even attempting to bring it up would hurt Elbert's feelings.

Mirror Alfons: .......

Mirror Alfons: ..........maybe you can heal El's wounds.

Kate: ...what?

Mirror Alfons: ..I've changed my mind. Let me show you.. the truth.

Saying that, Alfons handed me a key.

--scene switch--

I went to the location Alfons told me about and used the key to open the door.

(What hides in the basement of this castle...?)

Alfons told me to use the key to get into this room, but nothing more.

(I guess one can tell just by looking at it but... it's freezing cold down here..)

Rubbing my numb hands together, I had walked a few steps into the stone room when I spotted something.

(Is that... a coffin?)

In the center of the room was a gorgeous coffin made of glass.

(In the original story, the one in the glass coffin is supposed to be Snow White.... me...)

I was almost frightened at the scene, but I managed to endure it and take another step, peering into the coffin.

(Who is inside this...?)

The coffin bed was covered in flowers and a woman was lying on top of it.

(An extremely beautiful woman...)

And I was sure she was dead, for she wasn't moving at all.

It was so beautiful that I lost all sense of being scared.

(But why is there a body in Queen Elbert's castle...?)

Queen Elbert: ...Who is there?

Kate: ..!!!

Queen Elbert: Kate...? Why? Why are you here..??

Seeing me standing in front of the coffin, Queen Elbert's face stiffened.

Kate: Th-.. well that's... I-.. Alfons gave me this key, and then I...

Queen Elbert: Al, huh...

Kate: Elbert... who is this woman?

<- Chapter 1 Premium End -> coming soon

page dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[msilwrites]

Papa Bear Material - (Captain Price Fic) - Matchmaking

A/N: I hope you guys can be patient with me as I set up the scene and context for the story! I know you might be eager for Papa Bear John, so if you can't wait, feel free to scroll all the way down or check out the short version. But if you’d like to enjoy the full background and get all the details leading up to the moment, stick around here for the original version. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Warning: Mention of child abuse in the story. Summary: Y/N is a reserved former constable and master sniper in the London police force, now working full-time as an artisan. She reconnects with old colleagues at a grill house for a catch-up, where her former junior, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, tries to play matchmaker. Gaz’s attempt to set her up with the retired SAS and Papa Bear material, Captain John Price, is met with resistance as Y/N is caught off guard by the unexpected attention.

Y/N stepped into the familiar warmth of the grill house, the smoky aroma of sizzling meat mingling with the distinct hum of rugby commentary from the TV above the bar. The place had that well-worn, comfortable charm—like an old friend. She spotted her old colleagues almost immediately, seated around a table, beers in hand, laughter spilling into the air.

“Oi! Look who’s gracing us with her posh, artsy presence!” came the teasing voice of one of the officers. “You still wearing them fancy shoes, Y/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a half-smile playing on her lips as she made her way over. "Oh, please. I’d have to sell a few more prototypes just to afford these," she said, giving her Gucci Princeton Leather slip-ons a quick glance. "You know, designing and crafting, prototypes for others, specially demanding architects and students—it's harder than catching a criminal on a Sunday shift."

The group laughed, and one of them raised their glass. “Come on, that’s not true. Bet you’re all over the art scene now, living the dream!”

“Sure,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she slid into her seat, “if by ‘living the dream’ you mean sometimes starving in a studio, getting rejected by every gallery in town, and designing things no one’s ever heard of, yeah, it’s just like the movies.”

They all burst out laughing again. One of the lads signaled to the waiter, who was making his rounds. "Oi, get her a proper drink," he said with a grin, "she looks like she needs it."

A tap of beer was quickly placed in front of her, and she gave her colleagues a mock glare, but couldn't help but smile. "You lot are too kind. Just wait ‘til you see my next masterpiece—a painting of you lot after too many pints."

As the laughter faded, they began catching up, each group diving into stories and teasing. "Any funny incidents lately?" one of the officers asked, a grin spreading across his face.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh, plenty. You lot wouldn't believe half of them, but I'm still waiting for the call-up for my big art show... not holding my breath, though."

The conversation shifted, and soon enough, someone asked, “When’s your next reservist shift, then? You’re still doing that, right?”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, taking a moment before answering. "Ah, next month. Got my refresher course first, so I'll see you lot after that." She picked up her glass, the cool beer sliding down her throat as she sighed contentedly.

It had been a long day��too long. But, she was glad to be here, catching up with these old faces, the familiar rhythm of their banter and laughter settling into her. The worries of her day faded, replaced with the warmth of good company and the taste of a well-earned pint.

The table buzzed with laughter and the clink of silverware as everyone dug into their meal. Y/N, content with a bite of lamb chop, was about to take another when Kyle’s voice broke through.

“So, Y/N,” he said with a mischievous grin, leaning forward, “how long’s it been since you’ve been single?”

Y/N paused, looking at him like he’d just asked if she wanted to run a marathon. She narrowed her eyes, the chop still in her hand. “You’re not about to start playing matchmaker, are you, Gaz?”

Kyle shrugged nonchalantly, completely unbothered. “Well, you know... I might have a perfect guy in mind. Could introduce you next time.”

The table erupted into teasing shouts, and a few of the women at the table nudged her playfully. “Ooh, a ‘perfect guy,’ eh?” one of them said with a sly smile. “Sounds like someone’s trying to get you out there, Y/N!”

“Yeah, yeah,” another girl chimed in, grinning. “You can’t stay single forever, love. You need to live a little!”

Y/N laughed, raising her glass of beer to her lips. “I’ve been living plenty, thank you very much,” she said, taking a sip. “I’ve been single since I was 22. Too much going on in my life. Can barely keep up with myself, let alone anyone else.”

One of the guys leaned in, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t just keep dodging the love life thing forever. You’ve gotta try at least once. Who knows? Maybe this ‘perfect guy’ will be just what you need.”

“Or,” another woman piped up, waggling her eyebrows, “he’ll just be an excuse for a nice date night and some free food. Win-win.”

Y/N put a hand on her chest, feigning shock. “Oh, I see how it is. You lot just want me to get free dinner at someone else’s expense!”

Kyle laughed, raising his beer. “Well, if you don’t like him, I’ll pay for the meal myself. But I’m tellin’ ya, he’s worth a shot.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her tone dry. “Tell you what—if I get to choose the place, I’ll consider it. But no more ‘perfect guy’ nonsense, alright?”

Her colleagues cheered, raising their own glasses. “To Y/N’s perfect guy!” someone shouted, and the table erupted into more laughter.

Y/N just rolled her eyes, taking another bite of her lamb chop. “Alright, alright. You lot are relentless.”

As the teasing continued, Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly curious. “Alright then, who’s this ‘perfect guy’ Gaz has in mind? One of your mates?”

Kyle leaned back, clearly proud of his matchmaking skills. “Yeah, mate. His name’s Price. Former SAS, top bloke—don’t let the gruff exterior fool you. He’s solid. Got a good head on his shoulders.”

The table went silent for a moment. Some of the guys and girls exchanged glances, clearly impressed by the mention of SAS.

“Ooh, SAS, huh?” one of the women said, grinning. “That’s like, the real deal, right? Tough, mysterious, probably has a six-pack or maybe even eight! Hidden under all that tactical gear.”

“Oh yeah, totally,” another guy added, practically waggling his eyebrows. “Rugged, muscular, probably a bit brooding. Can already see the whole ‘I’ve been through the worst’ vibe.”

“Sounds like someone’s got a lot of mystery about him,” one of the other women teased, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “Could be just the thing you need, Y/N. A real adventure.”

Kyle, clearly delighted by the reactions, went on, “Yeah, you’ll like him. He’s been through the ringer, mate. The kind of bloke you don’t wanna mess with. Tough as nails.”

The group went on, each person adding their own humorous speculation about Price’s rugged, mysterious persona—tough military training, intense eyes, dangerous aura. The teasing was infectious, and everyone was in on it now, laughing and playfully suggesting how wild or sexy Price must be.

But Y/N’s expression had already shifted. Her hand, still holding the lamb chop, froze mid-air, and she stared into the distance, her eyes darkening as she took in what Kyle had said. The laughter around her faded into the background, her own thoughts taking over.

One of the guys, noticing the shift, raised an eyebrow. “You okay, Y/N?” he asked, clearly sensing the change in her mood.

Y/N blinked, breaking out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Yeah, fine,” she said quietly, but her tone was noticeably subdued.

Kyle, still excited, didn’t notice. “I’m telling you, mate, he’s a proper top guy. You’ll get along fine with him, I’m sure of it.”

But Y/N’s eyes had taken on a more somber look. “Yeah, maybe,” she muttered, her voice much softer than before. “Look, I’m not saying all military guys are the same, but…” She paused, her hand tightening around her beer glass. “My father was ex-military. Bit of a bastard, to be honest. Mentally and verbally abusive. So, I’ve... never really been into that kind of thing, if I’m honest.”

The teasing stopped abruptly. The table grew quieter as her words sank in. Kyle, finally sensing the shift, looked at her with a soft expression. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything heavy, Y/N. Just thought I was being helpful…”

Y/N gave a small, weary smile, waving it off. “It’s alright, Gaz. You didn’t know.”

One of the women, noticing her mood, reached out and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Hey, you don’t have to meet him, Y/N. No pressure.”

Y/N nodded, the smile returning just a little, though it was faint. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’s a great guy. Just not sure I’m ready for... anything like that right now.”

The table grew quieter as the conversation shifted away from matchmaking and towards other, lighter topics. Laughter bubbled up again, but Y/N’s mind wandered back, the memories creeping in despite the cheerful chatter around her.

Her father… It didn’t take much to bring his image to the forefront of her mind. The memories of him were sharp and unpleasant, lingering like an unshakable shadow. He’d been in the military for years before moving into MI5 when she was a child. After he retired, though, he never really left the mindset behind.

She could still hear his voice in her head, cutting through the air, as if he was right there. The constant little digs—his sharp tone when he'd see her, trying to maintain that military discipline, as if he could control every aspect of her life. Every time he looked at her, it felt like he was seeing an enemy, like she was still just a soldier under his command.

He’d belittle her. Criticize everything, from her clothes to how she held herself, as though she were an extension of his authority. It wasn’t just the verbal abuse, though. There were moments where the anger would spill over. He’d hit her, sometimes, not out of frustration but out of a need to keep her “in line.” If she argued or disagreed with him, there were times he’d drag her out of the house, leave her stranded in the middle of nowhere just to teach her a “lesson,” and then come back hours later, violently pulling her into the car as though nothing had happened.

Y/N shook her head, pushing the dark thoughts back. She’d spent so long trying to bury them, trying to focus on anything else that didn’t make her feel like a child again, helpless under his control.

It wasn’t until that one night when she was 19—kicked out of the house, no place to go, just a bag and nothing but cold streets—that she decided enough was enough. She didn’t have the luxury of time or an easy choice. She’d had nowhere to go but a friend’s couch for a few nights, and that’s when she made the decision: she would join the police force. She needed the money, the stability, and more than anything, the chance to break free from the past.

The police program offered her a way out, an escape, a way to stand on her own two feet and start building something for herself. At the time, it also came with education, which was a huge draw. She could pay for her tuition while working, get the training she needed to eventually leave all that behind. She’d never intended to stay long in the force, but it turned out to be the best decision she could have made, even though it came with its own set of challenges.

Her eyes flickered back to the table, the laughter still ringing around her, but now muffled, distant. She had come a long way since those dark days, but sometimes—like now—the weight of it all crept back in.

It was easy for her to laugh along with the others, easy to let the jokes flow. But sometimes, when the noise died down, she could still feel the sting of her past, just beneath the surface.

Her thoughts snapped back to the present as someone nudged her elbow. “Oi, you alright, Y/N? You went all quiet there,” one of her friends said, concern lacing their voice.

Y/N blinked, shaking herself free of the memories. She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah,” she replied, taking another swig of her beer. “Just a long day, that’s all. Don’t mind me.”

They didn’t press further, thankfully, but she could feel their eyes on her for a moment before the conversation shifted again.

The laughter from the table faded as everyone began to gather their things, slipping out one by one into the cool night air. Y/N lingered for a moment, the clink of glasses and murmurs of her friends still echoing in her ears, but it felt distant now—like a tune she was no longer part of. As she stepped outside, the damp pavement underfoot caught the glow of the streetlights, each step sharp and purposeful. She let out a long breath, the chill of the evening sinking into her skin. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed this—quiet, space to herself, far away from the constant chatter and noise that seemed to follow her every move.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, snapping her from her thoughts. She glanced down at the screen. An unknown number. Normally, she wouldn’t even bother answering, but something told her to check it.

She unlocked the screen and swiped open the message.

"Hi, Y/N. John Price here. Gaz gave me your number. We should grab a drink sometime. Maybe chat about a few things. Cheers."

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, eyes narrowing. Her thumb hovered over the screen as her mind scrambled for a reaction. John Price. The John Price? The former SAS legend, now retired, and apparently still involved in some highly classified business? What the hell was Gaz thinking?

"What the fuck, Gaz!!!" Y/N hissed under her breath, staring at the message with disbelief. Her gaze snapped up and scanned the street. She could see her friends walking ahead, far down the street now, their backs turned. Gaz, that bloody menace, had passed her number along without a second thought.

She stormed a few paces ahead, but her steps were more frustrated now. Her mind raced as she considered her options. She didn’t want any part of whatever ‘chat’ Price had in mind. She wasn’t a fool—she knew how these things worked. She could already picture the smug look on Gaz’s face when he thought he was doing her a favour, setting her up with some ‘good guy’ from his circle of military buddies. But military men… well, she had enough of that in her life already.

Y/N scrolled through her contacts, her fingers moving like clockwork. She was about to fire off a quick response to tell Price to kindly go to hell when she caught sight of her reflection in a shop window. Her face looked tired, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up to her. She could feel the cold seeping through her coat, and for a moment, it was like the weight of everything—the years of trying to make it on her own, the trauma, the nightmares—settled right back on her shoulders.

She quickly closed her phone and shoved it back into her pocket. A drink with John Price? Yeah, that was definitely not going to happen. But Gaz? He was going to hear about this. She didn’t care if he was busy with some top-secret ops or whatnot—this was a step too far.

"Next round’s on you, Gaz," she muttered to herself as she walked toward the corner, feeling the familiar mix of annoyance and amusement begin to churn in her stomach. ----------

Y/N's eyes fluttered open to the soft light of the morning, spilling through the gap in her curtains. The events of last night—Gaz's matchmaking attempt and the unexpected message from John Price—already felt like distant memories, lost in the haze of sleep. She groaned and stretched, her arms reaching out before she swung them over the side of the bed and planted her feet onto the cool wooden floor.

She was hungry. More than that, she was starving.

With a deep sigh, she pushed herself to her feet, feeling the weight of yesterday’s long hours still in her bones. Her body moved on autopilot as she made her way to the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee hit her senses before she even flicked on the kettle. The day ahead was full—pottery to finish, pieces to deliver, and the usual grind of meeting deadlines for design projects. But the pottery was the steady foundation. It brought in consistent income each month, even if it required hours of backbreaking work.

The market was always a good outlet for her—hands-on, personal, where customers could appreciate the craftsmanship and effort she poured into each item. She enjoyed the physicality of it, the quiet satisfaction of shaping clay into something functional and beautiful. She had a reputation for it, too—well-known in the area for her distinctive, handmade pottery, with a smooth, glossy finish that always caught the light just right.

After a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon, she shuffled into her workshop. There was something grounding about the familiar rhythm of her craft. The kiln had cooled overnight, and her latest batch of pottery—plates, mugs, vases, and a few statement pieces—was ready for inspection. Y/N carefully removed the items, one by one, from the kiln. The glaze had set perfectly, giving each piece a rich, lustrous shine. She ran her fingers over the smooth surfaces, admiring the precision of her work. Her hands were still stained with the evidence of yesterday’s labor, but it didn’t bother her. It was part of the process.

As she carefully packed the finished pieces into protective wrapping for transport, she nodded in approval. She may have put the hours in, but the result was always worth it. The market would love these.

Later, Y/N stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, examining her reflection with a critical eye. She’d always believed that people treated you better when you looked your best—when you seemed approachable and friendly. And since she was about to step into the public eye again, it was important to put a little effort in. She applied her makeup with precision, the soft strokes highlighting her features, then slipped on a small pair of gold-plated silver earrings that added a touch of chic to her look.

She was wearing a loose white linen shirt with long sleeves, its cuffs casually rolled up. The shirt was light and breathable, perfect for a day of carrying boxes and setting up her stall. Over it, she tied her craftsman apron—dark, worn from years of use, but still functional, with enough pockets to hold all the tools she needed.

Her wide-legged chinos reached just to her ankles, the fit comfortable and practical, paired with her slip-on loafers—a soft, leather pair she’d had for years. It was casual yet still put-together, an outfit that made her feel at ease while still ready for whatever the day might throw at her.

She practiced her smile in the mirror—a grin that wasn’t too forced or strained, but warm and inviting. Some days, it felt like a performance. But she’d learned long ago that a good smile could sell a piece of pottery. And that was what she needed today: to sell, to engage, to make her art speak for her.

With a deep breath, she adjusted her apron, straightened her shoulders, and gave the mirror one final smile before grabbing the first box of finished work.

She had a day of selling ahead. And though sometimes the world felt heavy, she was ready to face it head-on. Her pottery, her designs—they were the bright spots in her life, the reasons she’d fought so hard to keep going, to stay grounded.

With another steadying breath, she stepped out into the cool morning air, the day ahead waiting for her.

-----------

Once Y/N had finished unpacking and arranging her wares at her stall, she took a moment to step back and admire the display. The pieces were neatly arranged—vases catching the light, mugs stacked just right, and her signature pottery glistening with its smooth, glossy finish. She felt a small sense of pride bubble up, but it was quickly tempered by the hustle of the market around her. There was no time to linger; there were customers to engage, products to sell, and a whole day ahead.

Grabbing her phone, she tapped into the group chat with her friends, which, of course, included Gaz. A small smile tugged at her lips as she typed out a quick message:

“Hey guys, I’m set up at the market today—stall 30 if you’re in the area and fancy dropping by. Would be good to catch up if you have the time! 😎”

She added a few relevant emojis, then hit send, tucking her phone back into her apron pocket with a sigh. If they could make it, great. If not, no big deal. It would be nice to see a familiar face, but she’d already grown accustomed to the solitude of her work.

As she glanced up from her phone, she was met with the hustle and bustle of market-goers milling around her stall. Some stopped to admire the pottery, others just passed by, lost in their own little world. Either way, it was all part of the game. She adjusted a few pieces that had shifted during the unpacking and waited for her first customer of the day. -------------

Y/N was arranging the last of her pieces when a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped up to her stall. She glanced up, quickly taking in his dark blue shirt, trim hair, and the kind of build that made him look like he could carry a truck on his back if he wanted to. The guy looked like Papa Bear material—muscular, solid, and with a presence that seemed to fill the space around him.

He stood still for a moment, his eyes scanning over the pottery on display, then back at her. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly attractive he was. He had the kind of look that made heads turn, even if he didn’t seem to be trying. She could feel a little flutter of nerves creeping in, but she pushed it away, focusing on the pieces in front of her.

"Hi there," she said, forcing a smile as she adjusted a mug on the table.

"Hey," the man replied, his voice deep and steady. "You’ve got some brilliant work here."

Y/N nodded, her hands still busy with arranging. "Thanks. I’ve been at it for years, trying to get the perfect finish."

There was a pause as he looked at her again, this time with a more direct gaze. “You’ve definitely nailed it. Everything looks... well, perfect.”

Y/N felt a little warmth in her cheeks. What’s with this guy? she thought, still unsure of why she was feeling so off-kilter. He didn’t strike her as the type who would be interested in pottery, let alone strike up a conversation about it.

Then, with a small smile, he stepped forward and said, “I’m John, by the way. Gaz sent me.”

Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of Gaz’s name. Gaz? The first thought that shot through her head was, No, no, not this again. Her stomach turned as she realized that Gaz hadn't given up on matchmaking her with this Papa Bear of a man. Gaz!! You matchmaking bastard, why'd you do this to me!!

She tried to shake off the feeling. "Gaz, huh? Of course. I should’ve known."

John’s smile softened. “Yeah, he said I should come over and introduce myself. Said you’re someone I should meet.”

Y/N gave him a wry grin, glancing at the ground for a moment. "That sounds like something Gaz would say." She forced a casual tone, but inside, she was already second-guessing everything.

There was a brief, knowing pause between them before John continued, his voice a bit quieter but warm. "I’ve seen the pictures Gaz sent me... you’ve definitely exceeded that. And you look even better in person."

Her heart pounded, and she could feel her pulse picking up, but she didn’t want to let him see how much his words affected her. Gaz... you absolute idiot.

John continued, stepping a bit closer. "I don’t usually do this, but I’d love to take you out sometime. Dinner, drinks... whatever you fancy."

Y/N felt a flush creeping up her neck. This was it, wasn't it? Gaz and his matchmaking nonsense had really gone this far... She looked up at him, her expression softer now, but still holding a hint of surprise. This guy wasn’t just tall and fit; he was exactly the kind of person Gaz would go on about.

“Look, I am a little busy right now... uhhmmm,” she said, but there was a small, teasing smile playing at her lips.

John smiled, his eyes twinkling with something playful. “Take your time. I’m patient.”

Y/N sighed inwardly. Gaz hadn't given up on this... She couldn’t help but feel the pressure of it all, even as she admired John's presence. Big guy, military background, and that soft, paternal charm. She’d met her fair share of tough guys, but there was something different about John Price. The way he carried himself—genuine, steady, and disarmingly kind—was impossible to ignore. A/N: I do hope you enjoyed that one! I’ll be writing another chapter when inspiration strikes, or feel free to drop any suggestions you might have!

[sinfultutorreborn]

"Come here, baby. Today is your birthday! Don't think I'd forget, I would never forget. I have a special present for you!

You are growing up so fast, darling. I noticed what you are doing lately, baby. I know you wanted to sit on my lap a lot, and even when you tried to be sneaky about it, I noticed how you were grinding against me. I also noticed some of my boxers are missing. I am pretty sure I have thrown them into the bin with dirty clothing, but they are not there. Don't you know something about it?

Anyway, I'm getting a bit off-topic. Follow me, baby.

Alright, lay on the bed. Daddy will take off your pants and panties. No, no, don't be ashamed. Don't hide your face. I know you love daddy this way, and I want you to know it is alright. It's not wrong. Daddy will show you he loves you too.

Ok, raise your butt. I'll pull down your… Oh, my… Your little cunny is already wet.

Let daddy slide his finger inside your little hole. You are so tight, my beautiful daughter. Ok, I'll start moving the finger now. Does it feel nice?

Oh, you smell so wonderful, I need to taste you. Daddy loves how your cunny tastes, darling.

Look, daddy will take off his pants. Do you like daddy's thingy? Do you want to take it into your mouth? You can! Yes, that's right, you can suck on it just like that. That feels really nice.

Alright, now it's time for the best part of your present. Spread your legs wide, daddy will put the thingy inside you.

Oh my god, you are so incredibly tight. Do you feel daddy's thingy stretching you? Oh, look at your face, baby. You look like you are in heaven.

Do you want to be a big girl for your daddy? Yes? Ok, daddy will make you a big girl now. Oh, it's coming. Just… one… more… thrust…

I love you so much, my wonderful daughter. I love you, I love you.

Daddy just came inside you. You are a big girl now!

Look at it leaking out of you! You are so beautiful.

From now on, you don't need to secretly grind against me. Just tell me and we will do this. Alright?

Such a good girl."

[kiko---random-stuff-probably]

Infection

How Kallamar got his scar on his left eye.

For context: Kallamar is seveteen and got recruited by Shamura (who is around 30).

Kallamar did not expect, after being recruited by War themselves as a poisoner, to be in any way met with open arms by the other soldiers, for several reasons.

First of all, he was not a warrior. He only stepped foot on the battlefield after everything was done, and some of the soldiers considered him way too fragile and weak to actually help.

Second, he was a foreigner, and had some problems with the language barrier, even if luckily he came from a place where Silk Cradle's language was pretty used and he even read it on some medical tomes. Still, he had a certain accent (that he was actively trying to lose) and some words were still unknown to him. He was pretty sure thatsome soldiers referred to him with a slur, bbut he was not sure. He wasn't the only foreigner in Shamura's army, but this was not going to stop it.

Also, the fact that he poisoned his ex village was considered by a lot of soldiers as a clear sign that he was, and he could quote the exact words a soldier used behind his back, "a psychotic piece of shit who will not hesitate to stab the Spider's back". Which, obviously, was not true: he had no reason to hurt Shamura! After all, they gave him a home, a role, hot food and sometimes they even talked to him! Way mroe than anything he could had ever wish for!

So, he knew he was not in any way welcome there.

Still, slashing his left eye was a little too much.

Right now, Kallamar was sitting on a brand bed in the medical bay, holding an hand over his now bandaged face.

The doctor was reassuring, once again, that his wound was not going to get infected and that he was going to have a quick recovery, before excusing herself and leaving when Shamura entered.

War glanced at the squid, their expression indecifrable and cold. Disappointed, maybe.

Kallamar looked at the ground, as his mind started to race.

- I was informed of what happened. I still want to hear your side.-

- I didn't... I was not the one to start it.-

- I have no doubt in that, but I still want to hear your version.-

Kallamar was shaking, as he tried to find the words.

- I didn't... I was just... they attacked me out of nowhere, and said i had to "earn my right to live" and things like that, and others were inciting them, and... and... and they had a knife, and...- he was more than omce interrupted by a few sobs - I was scared... I couldn't...-

- You managed to take their knife away and then stabbed your opponent, right?-

- They putted it down, saying something about "a fair fight", and I knew they could had easily snapped my back, I just...-

- You stabbed them in the neck. Precisely in the carotids.-

Kallamar still didn't loook at them.

- And than you stabbed them other fifteen times. Some of the soldiers even report that you started laughing during your rampage.-

Kallamar holded back a sob. As they needed another reason to hate him. He was going to be executed, or thrown in the prison at best. All for a stupid fight.

- I really can't see why you were scared. Honestly, I'm impressed.-

Kallamar looked at the spider, trying to catch an underlying sarcasm. Instead, he found something akin to pride - Do not worry, I am not mad about their death, it was self defense after all.-

- I killed them.-

- They attacked first with the intention to kill you. I can forgive your reasonable outburst of adrenaline. We will have to work on your emotion management and teach you how to incapacitate an opponent without killing them, even if I doubt someone else will decide to try something similar to this.-

Kallamar was sure he must had misheard them.

-... Why aren't you mad? You should be mad that I was the one who survived. You should...- towards the end, he slipped in a swear word in his language.

Shamura's expression was filled with genuine confusion.

- Why would I be mad about that...? You are an important asset in my army and also a good kid with a promising future. I would had been really upset if you actually died.-

Bullshit. They must be lying. He was just a stupid weakling who could not do anything right and who's only role in life was to die and-

- Regardless of whatever your old village made you believe, you matter as much as anyone else. I'm happy you're alive, kid.- the spider gently patted his head, and that was it.

The squid bursted into tears, overwhelmed.

War let him cry, fully knowing how much he needed it.

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

Chapter 51: Aftermath 

A/N: And we are back at it again, with a new chapter! This chapter is crazy also! We have a Sanji POV… Y/N POV… Nami POV… Brook POV… Ichiji POV… Its a whole lot of POVs here, and we even some mild spice. But yall we still haven't gotten to the good parts yet and we still have some more hardships for y/n and Sanji. We also got a little seducing in here, as well.  Thank you guys for following, liking, reblogging, and commenting! Without further ado let the adventure begin!

Sanji x Reader, One Piece X Reader, Sanji X Y/N

Nami POV…

"Jinbei! Do you think you can break us free?" I yelled, hope swelling in my chest.

Jinbei tried to break the bars with his powerful technique, but it didn’t work. My heart sank. "It failed..." I muttered.

"Should’ve known, that was Montd’Or’s work," Jinbei said, analyzing the situation. Before I could lose hope, Luffy jumped right back in. "Okay! Back to Plan A!" he declared, ready to break his arms again.

"Luffy! No!" I cried out, panic rising in my voice. "Hold on, wait!" Jinbei interrupted. He held up a torch, his eyes glinting with a new plan. "These books are susceptible to fire!"

"Wait, you’re going to torch the cage... with us inside?" I yelled in disbelief.

"Just get out of the enclosure once you’re free!" Jinbei said with confidence, but I wasn’t so sure.

"But what if we can’t?!" I protested, frantically thinking of what could go wrong.

Jinbei remained calm. "It’s your only option for escape, time is running out, and the other choices aren’t that great," he said, making the situation clear.

Luffy, of course, was already all in. "Alright, go!" he shouted, a grin plastered across his face.

"That quick?! Wait! I’m not ready!" I shrieked as Jinbei set the book on fire. The flames caught instantly, and I could feel the heat rising. "No! My dress is on fire!" I screamed, watching in horror as the flames crept closer.

Luffy grabbed me quickly, pulling me out of the cage as Jinbei doused us with water. I stood there, drenched but free, trying to catch my breath. "Haha! We’re free now!" Luffy cheered triumphantly.

"Damn it..." I muttered, trying to cover myself as best as I could, my burned dress clinging to me. "Why do I feel like I’ve been through something like this before?" I grumbled, frustrated but relieved.

As I glanced around, I noticed Y/N’s satchel—still intact despite the fire. The faint violet glow and hue from before were beginning to fade. "At least these are safe," I thought with relief, clutching the bag close to me.

"You survived! Well done," Jinbei said with a proud smile as Luffy laughed heartily.

I quickly changed into another outfit, one that one of the other prisoners had handed me. "Thanks a bunch, Jinbei," I said, grateful as I adjusted the new clothes.

Suddenly, I heard a shout in the distance. "The screams came from the prison library!" yelled a soldier, alerting the others.

"We better move fast," I muttered, feeling the tension rise again.

“Damn it, I'm so weak, too hungry,” Luffy grumbled, his stomach growling in protest. Despite his exhaustion, his resolve remained as strong as ever. He turned to Jinbei, giving him a grateful look. "Anyway, Jinbei, thank you!" Luffy added, the urgency in his voice clear.

“Things are pretty bad as is, we were all tricked—Sanji included. I have to warn him!” Luffy said, his steps quickening as he headed up the stairs.

“Jinbei, take care of Nami for me.” His voice echoed down the hallway.

He turned back for a brief moment and looked at me with determination. “Nami, find Y/N and warn her!” he called, the weight of the task heavy on his shoulders.

I nodded, my heart racing as I clenched Y/N’s satchel closer to me. "I will, Luffy. You be careful, okay?" I shouted back, hoping he'd hear me as he disappeared up the stairs.

I looked at Jinbei, who nodded firmly. Time was running out. We had to find Y/N before things got any worse.

Sanji POV… 

I sat next to Reiju, my mind racing as I finished recounting everything I had witnessed—from start to finish. Pudding’s deception, her cruel mockery, and how Y/N had barged in, risking everything to try and save Reiju. I even told her about Y/N’s speech, the one she gave before Pudding erased her memory.

“Think I’m lying?” I asked, my voice low but steady.

Reiju shook her head, a soft look in her eyes. “I don’t. I know you would never mislead me.” She sighed. “I was wary of Pudding, but I didn’t imagine her to be this devious.” Her gaze shifted to Y/N, still resting peacefully. “I knew there was a reason why I was quite fond of her,” Reiju said softly. “And the fact that she risked her life for me...”

“She had her suspicions of Pudding, too,” I added, remembering Y/N’s sharp instincts. “She called it a woman’s intuition.”

Reiju chuckled softly at that, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile. I looked at Y/N, her bandaged form resting so still, and my heart ached with regret. I wanted to reach out, to take her hand and feel that warmth again, but I stopped myself. I didn’t deserve to touch her—not yet.

“Will you tell her what happened? Since she’ll only remember you and Pudding being... intimate?” Reiju asked gently.

I shook my head, barely able to whisper, “No...” The words felt heavy in my throat. “I’ll tell her my feelings once more, when I’m ready again. I don’t want to make her think I’m lying just to save face. Hell Pudding erased so much of her memory that it, might overwhelm her”

I glanced at Y/N again, a soft sadness filling my chest. “Knowing her, she’ll be mad... but with her heart as big as it is, she’ll forgive me in due time.” I let out a shaky breath. “I want to do right by her, Reiju. So this is my cross to bear.”

Reiju nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. I let out a deep sigh, unable to shake the weight of everything pressing down on me. "I really screwed up," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... if I accepted the marriage, I would save my crewmates." I stared down at my hands, the guilt eating at me. "And all I needed to do was stop Y/N’s wedding to Ichiji. But that was never in the cards—it was all a ploy. Of course, I thought it would all work out if I took one for the team." I gripped my hair, frustration boiling inside me.

"They fooled our father too," Reiju said, her voice calm but laced with bitterness. "He’s a wise man, but filled with arrogance. He’s dealing with an emperor. We should have been more cautious, but... I believe that Germa should be destroyed."

I blinked at her, shocked at her resolve. "I’d like to pretend I’m ignorant and let Big Mom carry out her plan," she continued.

"Don’t be stupid, Reiju! They’ll kill you too!" I yelled, a bit too loud, causing Y/N to slightly stir in her sleep. I lowered my voice but kept the urgency. "Not only that, but they’ll still kill Y/N." My mind flashed back to all the dangers we’d faced, and the thought of Y/N being caught in that crossfire—it was unbearable.

"Leave the past where it lies," Reiju said softly. "We are beyond that. You don’t owe me a single thing. I only helped you once before."

"Y/N doesn’t owe me a single thing either," she added, her gaze turning to Y/N, who remained peaceful despite everything. "Go, find the Strawhats. Take Y/N and leave this island, Sanji."

"Like how?! I can’t do that!" I snapped, the frustration overwhelming me again. "What do you think will happen to the Baratie? Hell, what do you think will happen to King and all those people on that island that Y/N loves and cares for?! we can’t just leave them all behind!"

"Just run. Figure it out and escape. Stay here, and all of you will die," Reiju said firmly. "Sanji, you have to live—for our mother’s sake."

"Why bring her up...?" I muttered, the pain of that memory still raw.

Reiju took a deep breath and began to explain. "Our mother did everything she could to protect you quadruplets from losing your humanity. Father forced the surgery on her, but our mother... she took a toxin in an attempt to foil his plan." Reiju’s voice softened with each word, the weight of the memory evident in her tone. "It was a powerful drug, strong enough to manipulate the elements."

I could feel my heart clench. I knew our mother suffered, but I never knew the full extent.

"But for Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji, they were already showing signs of the genetic mutation," Reiju continued. "You, though... you had compassion. While mother began to show weakness, you—"

"She died because of me!" I interrupted, my voice breaking under the weight of that realization. "I caused her death!"

"Nonsense! Don’t think that way!" Reiju snapped, surprising me with the intensity of her words. "You brought our mother genuine happiness every single day. Even though she passed, her kindness still lives on in you, Sanji. She selfishly died to protect and save your humanity. You are the future she wanted to see."

Her words hit me hard, but they also brought a sense of peace—a peace I hadn’t felt in years. I sat there, trying to absorb everything she’d just told me. Our mother, the sacrifice she made, the humanity she fought to preserve in me—it wasn’t all for nothing. I had to live up to that. For her, for Reiju... for Y/N.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through the heavy silence, groggy but unmistakable. Y/N turned to her left, blinking softly trying to adjust her vision.

"Hey, Reiju..." Y/N's soft voice cut through, and both of us turned our attention toward her. She was still waking up, her eyes half-lidded as she pushed herself up, a tired but amused smile tugging at her lips. "You should’ve seen the look on Ichiji’s face when after breakfast he asked me to have dinner with him… and it didn't go as smoothly as he planned. Her smile widened, clearly recalling the moment. Even though she was still recovering, Y/N had a knack for finding light in the darkest situations.

Y/N’s smile widened, but her eyes held a mix of hurt and confusion that made my chest tighten. Reiju gave me a subtle look—one telling me it was time to go, that she would fill Y/N in on some of the details. I trusted her, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that followed me as Y/N turned her attention to me.

"Sanji... come here," Y/N said softly, though her voice carried an edge I couldn’t ignore.

I hesitated for a second, but then I made my way over to her slowly, unsure of what to expect. Before I could react, she grabbed my hand with a surprising grip—and with her right hand, she punched me square on the head.

"Owww! What was that for?!" I yelled, clutching my throbbing skull.

"For what you did with Pudding!" she snapped back, her tone fiery. But just as quickly, she winced, holding her own head. "Damn it, why does it feel like I’ve been hit with a battering ram again..." she muttered, the irritation clear in her voice.

I stumbled back slightly, rubbing my head, but before I could think of getting up, Y/N pulled me into an embrace that took my breath away. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, a silent message saying, I’m glad you’re here. The warmth between us melted the tension, if only for a moment.

“You know, Sanji…” she began, her voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of pain. “I’m still hurt, and it’s going to take time for me to process everything… especially after seeing you with her, doing something so intimate.”

Her words pierced me like a dagger, and I braced myself for the worst. “You must hate me for what I did…” I whispered, struggling to meet her gaze.

Y/N held my gaze steadily, and her next words took me by surprise. “Hate is a strong word, Sanji… I should, but I don’t.” Her honesty hit me hard. In that moment, I saw the depth of pain I had caused her. Her eyes, which once sparkled with affection, now bore a weight of sorrow. The spark was flickering, but the pain remained.

“It’ll take time for me to trust you again, let alone stop being mad at you,” she said, her voice firm yet gentle. But then, to my astonishment, she pulled my head into her chest, and my hands instinctively found their way around her waist, unsure of how to respond. She kissed the top of my head, a soothing gesture that sent shivers down my spine.

“But… despite all that… I still care a lot about you. You mean a lot to me… Ji.” The nickname she had given me a while back sent my heart racing. My breath hitched as warmth flooded my chest.

“Does this mean you’ll never let me go?” I swooned, gazing up at her with wide eyes. “Ohhh, princess, I do!” I declared dramatically, imagining this moment as a proposal.

Suddenly, I felt the ground shift beneath me, my heart pounding so loud it echoed in my ears. I dropped to my knees, clutching my chest in an exaggerated show of affection. “Ohh dear ocean! What have I done to deserve this angel’s kindness?” I yelled, letting the theatrics take over.

“Now, Sanji…” Y/N started, but I cut her off, unable to contain my feelings any longer.

“I am utterly unworthy of your grace!” I continued, my voice rising to a near crescendo. “How could I ever repay you for this moment?”

The sincerity in her gaze made my heart swell, even as I realized the truth behind her words. I was still in the deep waters of her hurt, but there was a flicker of hope in her eyes that told me all was not lost.

Y/N shook her head, trying to suppress a smile. "Listen, I’m going to keep resting. You keep doing what you’re doing." With that, she pulled the covers over her head, hiding her face and stifling a laugh.

"Sanji, go..." Reiju urged, gently nudging me to pick up the basket filled with food and wine and walk out of the ward.

I turned to the left and settled into a chair just outside, feeling the weight of everything that had transpired pressing on my shoulders.

Y/N POV…

As I continued to hide under the covers, pretending to sleep, I heard a faint click at the door. My heart raced with curiosity, and I peeked out to find Reiju smiling at me. “Now, mind telling me how you and I got here?” I asked, a laugh escaping my lips despite the pain radiating through my body.

“All I remember is that I electrocuted some soldiers, and one of them shot me on the side and hit my head,” I continued, trying to piece together the fragmented memories.

“Y/N, the truth is, you were right about Pudding,” Reiju said, and my heart sank.

“I knew it!” I winced as I spoke, still feeling the dull throb in my head.

“I was weary of Pudding, so I followed her. That was when she shot me. I thought I was done for until you came breaking through her door,” Reiju explained.

“Ha!” I exclaimed, clenching my fists as both fire and electricity surged through my body, invigorating me. “These are pretty handy,” I said, feeling the rush of power before unclenching my fists.

“Not only that, but Pudding also altered your memory,” Reiju continued. My heart dropped as I processed this information. So that’s why everything is fuzzy and hazy.

“She also plans to kill you and Sanji, along with your crew and the Vinsmokes, me included,” Reiju added, her expression serious.

I looked at her, my anger bubbling to the surface. “Over my dead body am I going to allow that bitch to cause any harm. Hell, she’s going to have to fight me for round two!” I declared, the determination in my voice overshadowing the ache in my head.

“Damn it!” I muttered, wincing at the throbbing headache.

“Why did you save me?” Reiju asked, her eyes searching mine.

I turned to her and smiled. “You showed kindness to me, along with covering for me in order to memorize the library to find my captain and Nami. On top of that, I was able to get back my blade. It’s the least I could do.”

“I knew there was a reason why I was fond of you,” she said, laughing, which made me chuckle in return.

Just then, a familiar voice rang out. “Sanji!”

“That’s Luffy!” I said, a wave of relief washing over me. As I tried to get up, I winced again, looking at my injured side. “Damn, that bitch shot me good,” I muttered under my breath.

Reiju stood, and just as Luffy got closer, she pulled him into the room and locked the door behind him. Luffy turned to look at her, confusion in his eyes. “It’s you!” he exclaimed.

"Luffy…" I said, my voice shaky as my heart swelled with happiness. His familiar, carefree grin lit up the moment he saw me, and before I could even process it, he pulled me into a tight hug. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, grounding me in the chaos around us, but I couldn't help but wince as the pressure on my injured side sent a sharp jolt of pain through me.

“Y/N! I’m so glad to see you!” Luffy’s voice was full of excitement and relief, but his expression quickly shifted when he felt my reaction. He pulled back slightly, his hands still on my shoulders, and his gaze immediately zeroed in on the bandages peeking out from under my clothes.

His carefree smile faded, replaced with a look of concern that was rare to see on his usually happy face. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice firm and steady, but I could hear the underlying anger building.

I hesitated, not wanting to worry him even more, but the concern flooding his voice made it impossible to brush it off. “It’s nothing, Luffy. I’ve had worse,” I tried to assure him, but his eyes narrowed, not buying my deflection for a second.

“Y/N, tell me,” he insisted, his grip on my shoulders tightening just a little, his determination unwavering. "Who. Did. This."

I sighed, knowing I couldn’t hide the truth from him, not when he looked at me like that. “It was Pudding,” I admitted quietly, the words heavy as they left my lips. Luffy's eyes widened for a second, but it wasn’t long before concern turned to fury in a heartbeat.

“Pudding?!" he growled, his fists clenching at his sides. The carefree energy he usually carried vanished, replaced by a dangerous intensity that sent a chill through the air. I nodded, though I tried to stir past that conversation, since we were short on time. 

“I’m glad you’re free! And Nami too?” I asked, needing to know more about my friends.

“Yup! She’s with Jinbe. She was going to look for you, but I guess I found you first, huh?” Luffy grinned, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Straw Hat, you’re looking for Sanji, aren’t you? He was here just a few minutes ago,” Reiju interjected.

“I need to warn Sanji,” Luffy said, his expression turning serious.

“What happened to your leg?” he asked, noticing Reiju’s injury.

“Thanks for asking, and Sanji is aware of the whole thing, as well as Y/N,” she replied, and Luffy’s eyes widened as he turned to me.

“You knew this whole time!” he yelled, his voice filled with shock.

“Hold on, Captain. I just found out her plan, as did Sanji,” I said quickly, trying to diffuse the tension.

“I tried to convince him to run away and escape with you and your crew, but he was worried about the East Blue hostages, as well as King and the others on that island,” Reiju explained, looking at me with understanding.

“He was…” I whispered, feeling a rush of concern for him.

“As well as the well-being of your crew,” she continued, her gaze steady.

“The East Blue hostages from the Baratie! Sanji’s friends are my friends, and I’ll go if they need my help! Same goes for Y/N; her friends and King are my friends!” Luffy declared, his resolve unwavering.

Hearing those words caused me to choke back a sob. “Luffy…” I said, my voice trembling with emotion. Just then, Luffy’s stomach let out a loud growl, breaking the tension in the room.

“Would you like something to eat?” Reiju offered, her tone gentle.

“I’m okay,” Luffy replied with a grin, brushing off the suggestion. “At least I don’t have to worry as much now. Sanji and Y/N know what Pudding’s up to.”

“Y/N! You ready to come with me?” Luffy asked, excitement radiating from him.

“As much as I want to, I’ve got to figure out a plan to keep my fiancée at bay for now. That way, if you do come up with a plan, we have enough time to execute it!” I explained, my mind racing with strategies.

“Just tell Nami to find me in the mirrors and to make sure she still has my weapons,” I added, a smile creeping onto my face.

“You got it!” Luffy said enthusiastically, then smashed the window as he prepared to leap into action. “I’ll find Sanji!”

“Wait, he realizes that’s the wrong way to Sanji, right?” Reiju asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

“Don’t worry about it,” I reassured her, chuckling at Luffy’s reckless spirit. “Now, I might need your help with a plan I have brewing.”

Reiju raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “Alright, what’s the plan?”  she asked, her tone curious but cautious.

“I need Ichiji to sleep until our wedding.,” I said, leaning in slightly. “Since Sanji’s wedding follows shortly after, that gives me enough time. I need a drug strong enough to knock him out for a few hours, allowing me to meet with the rest of the crew, plan something, and then come back before anyone notices.”

Reiju considered my words for a moment before her gaze sharpened. “Do you, by any chance, still have that drug Ichiji injected me with before?” I asked, hopeful.

Without hesitation, Reiju reached into her dress and pulled out a small vial, holding it up between her fingers. “Yes,” she said, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

I raised an eyebrow, teasing her, “You just carry this around in there, huh?”

She shrugged, unbothered by my comment. “It was precaution, just in case Pudding tried something,” she said casually.

I grinned, taking the vial from her. “Perfect. I’ll drop some of this in his glass. That should give me enough time to execute everything.”

Reiju tilted her head. “But how will this plan work exactly?”

I couldn’t help but smirk, the gears of my mind already turning. “Simple. I’ll play into his desires,” I said, a mischievous glint in my eyes. “And I already have the perfect outfit in mind.”

Reiju’s expression shifted from surprise to a slow, approving smile. “You’re bolder than I thought,” she said, leaning back slightly. “Well, let’s make sure everything goes according to plan.”

I smiled confidently. “Now all I need is the champagne and the right moment. We’ll have Ichiji out cold, and I’ll be gone before he even knows what hit him.”

.

.

.

Soon after, I found myself making my way to the sixth floor, where the Vinsmokes were staying. My heels clicked against the polished floors, creating an echo in the otherwise quiet hallway. In my hand, I held a bottle of champagne and two flute glasses. Hidden discreetly in my coat pocket was the vial from Reiju, along with my thigh halter and blade, just in case. My heart raced, not from nerves but from anticipation of executing my plan.

As I approached the door, two soldiers stationed nearby stepped forward, blocking my path. "Aren’t you supposed to be resting?" one of them asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

I smiled sweetly, doing my best to mask my true intentions. “I’m just here to spend some time with my fiancé before we officially become husband and wife tomorrow,” I replied smoothly, keeping my voice light and friendly.

The soldier hesitated for a moment before stepping aside, seemingly convinced. I took a breath and knocked lightly on the door, though the rowdy noise from inside was already evident. Laughter, clinking bottles, and drunken voices filled the air.

The door swung open abruptly, revealing Yonji with a beer mug in hand. He leaned against the doorframe, smirking. “Well, well, if it isn’t my dear soon to be sister-in-law. What brings you here at this hour?” he asked, his eyes roaming over me as if assessing my presence.

I returned his smirk with one of my own, stepping closer and holding up the bottle of champagne.

I met his smirk with one of my own, stepping closer with purpose, holding up the bottle of champagne in one hand and two glasses in the other. The playful glint in my eyes wasn’t lost on him. “I came to see my fiancé,” I purred, my voice smooth and dripping with charm. “I did say I was going to see you both later, and I must admit I got a little lonely in my room.”

Yonji's eyes flickered to the bottle in my hand before trailing down the length of my body, taking in every detail, his smirk widening with each passing second. He wasn’t subtle—his gaze lingered on the way my coat jacket clung to my form, the rich red lipstick on my lips that seemed to draw him in, and the sleek ponytail that made my appearance sharp, confident, and dangerously alluring.

"Lonely, huh?" he asked, the teasing tone barely masking the intrigue in his voice. Yonji’s smirk deepened as he leaned against the doorframe, clearly enjoying the moment. “And here I thought Ichiji was keeping you well-occupied.”

I chuckled lightly, not taking the bait, and stepped even closer. “Who says he’s not?” I replied with a playful raise of my brow. “But there’s no harm in spicing things up a bit.”

“A surprise visit, huh? I like your style,” Yonji replied, his voice teasing as he stepped aside to let me in. He turned his head and called out, “Ichiji! Your fiancée is here!”

The room was thick with the scent of alcohol, and the barmaids didn’t even flinch at my arrival, still occupied with flirting and pouring drinks for the men. Some of them were laughing and partaking in the festivities themselves, drinking from scattered bottles as the night dragged on.

The moment I made my presence known, Ichiji’s eyes locked onto mine, his smirk widening into something more dangerous.

"Well, if it isn’t my bride-to-be," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. He took a slow sip from his glass, his gaze never wavering. "Missed me?"

Niji let out a chuckle, raising his own glass in amusement. "Looks like someone’s eager," he teased.

I met Ichiji’s gaze with a teasing smile of my own, though the tension between us was unmistakable. "To tell you the truth," I began, keeping my voice smooth and playful, "I was feeling a bit lonely in my room." I shifted slightly, my hands still behind my back, holding the champagne bottle and glasses. "But it seems to me you had quite the distraction." My eyes flicked to the barmaid who had her hand resting on Ichiji’s chest, her eyes filled with adoration as she gazed at him.

Ichiji glanced down at the woman, not even bothering to push her hand away. His smirk only deepened. "Just a little entertainment to pass the time," he said, his tone casual, as if the woman’s presence meant nothing. "But now that you’re here, I suppose I’m in for a real treat."

I could feel the weight of his words, the way he played with power and control, expecting me to fall in line like the rest of them. But I had my own game to play, and he had no idea what was coming. "So, I guess we won’t be finishing up what we started back at dinner before Yonji interrupted, huh?" I tilted my head, allowing a playful smile to dance on my lips.

Before Ichiji could respond, Yonji draped his arm over my shoulder, drink in hand, laughing. "You mean saving you from whatever the hell that was!" he joked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Never knew I needed saving," I shot back, shrugging his arm off my shoulder gently, my attention shifting back to Ichiji. He looked at Yonji, sending him a glare that was both warning and annoyed, as if silently commanding him to silence himself. But Yonji, oblivious to the tension, continued to drink, grinning like he owned the place.

“Hey, princess, mind sharing some of that champagne?” Niji chimed in, standing up and reaching for the bottl e with a greedy look.

I raised an eyebrow, my smile unwavering as I held the bottle of champagne tighter, emphasizing the exclusivity of the moment. “No can do,” I said smoothly, stepping closer to Ichiji with deliberate intent. “This is meant only for Ichiji and I.” My tone dripped with finality, and the way I held the bottle protectively against my chest sent a clear message to everyone else in the room—this wasn’t for them.

The atmosphere thickened, the tension palpable as the barmaids exchanged glances, their giggles a quiet but persistent background noise to the unfolding scene. They were watching like spectators at a game of cat and mouse, eager to see who would win, who would bend.

“But…” I added, my voice soft but teasing, “if Ichiji doesn’t want to spend some time before our wedding, then I guess I’ll just return to my room.” I turned around dramatically, my coat flaring with the motion as I threw the words over my shoulder, letting them hang in the air like a challenge.

The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, but before I could take another step, I felt a firm grip on my wrist, halting me in my tracks. I smirked, already knowing who it was without having to look back.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Ichiji’s voice was low, laced with amusement but carrying a clear edge of dominance. He tugged on my wrist, pulling me back toward him, forcing me to face him. His eyes glimmered with that dangerous mixture of arrogance and intrigue, his smirk widening as he saw the challenge still lingering in my own expression.

I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let him draw me closer, my free hand coming up to rest lightly against his chest. My fingers trailed slowly down the fabric of his shirt, my touch featherlight but deliberate, as if testing the boundaries of his composure. “I’m not going anywhere,” I replied, my voice soft yet defiant, a quiet promise in the midst of the storm brewing between us.

Ichiji’s eyes darkened, the playful glint giving way to something more intense, more possessive. His grip on my wrist tightened, but it wasn’t painful—just enough to remind me of the power he thought he held over me. But I wasn’t one to submit so easily.

The tension between us crackled like electricity in the air, and I could feel the weight of anticipation pressing down on both of us, the stakes rising with every heartbeat. The room around us seemed to fade away, the other voices becoming background noise as we became locked in this silent battle of wills.

Leaning in closer, I let my lips brush the shell of his ear, my breath warm against his skin as I whispered, “Why don’t we celebrate in a more private setting?” The invitation was clear, but it was more than that—it was a dare. “I want you to show me that lesson you had in store for me,” I continued, my voice sultry and laced with seduction. Before he could respond, I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, just enough to feel the way his body tensed beneath my touch, like a predator ready to pounce.

His grip on my wrist moved to my waist, pulling me flush against him as his gaze bore into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. “Be careful what you wish for,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, full of promise and danger. “You might not be able to handle it.”

My heart raced in response, but I didn’t falter. “Try me,” I replied, my voice unwavering, a wicked smile playing on my lips. This was the game we played—pushing, teasing, testing each other’s limits, neither one willing to back down.

“Damn, this is getting spicy,” Niji’s voice broke through the tension like a sudden spark, his teasing grin spreading as he leaned against the bar, watching the exchange with clear amusement. “Ichiji, are you sure you can handle her? She might just burn the place down!”

Yonji laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle as well. “Better make sure you keep that door locked, or we might just crash your party!” he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I want to see how she handles you, Ichiji.”

Ichiji’s eyes flicked toward his brothers, his expression momentarily darkening with annoyance. But when he looked back at me, the smirk returned, more dangerous than ever. “Don’t worry about them,” he said, his voice smooth as silk but with an edge that made it clear he wasn’t joking. “They wouldn’t dare interfere. This… is between us.”

I arched a brow, still playing along, but there was something in his tone that sent a thrill of excitement racing through me. He wasn’t just talking about this moment; he was staking his claim, making it clear that I was his in this twisted game we played. But I wasn’t about to let him have all the control.

“Well,” I replied, my voice dripping with honeyed defiance, “you better make it worth my while, then.”

Ichiji’s smirk deepened, his grip on my waist tightening as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my skin. “Oh, I will,” he whispered, the promise in his voice sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. The heat radiating from him enveloped me, drawing me in as if we were the only two people in the room.

The atmosphere thickened with tension, the rest of the world fading into a distant blur as our eyes locked. The playful banter around us became mere background noise, but I could feel the weight of his possessiveness, the way he wanted to claim me, to show me who was in control. And despite the thrill that coursed through me, I had no intention of making it easy for him.

“Why don’t we continue this in your room?” I suggested, my voice sultry and laced with temptation, a sly smile curling my lips. “Let’s celebrate our union a day early.” I held his gaze, refusing to look away, letting the challenge linger in the air between us.

Ichiji’s eyes darkened with a mix of intrigue and desire, and I could see the gears turning in his mind as he processed my words. “Are you trying to make a fool of me?” he replied, a teasing lilt in his voice, but the possessive glint in his eyes betrayed his eagerness. “You’re the one who came here, after all. What if I don’t want to share you with anyone tonight?”

My eyes still locked on his, I leaned in slightly, letting the tension build between us. “I wouldn’t want you to share me,” I said, my voice a low murmur that felt like a secret just for him. “I want you all to myself.” The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and I could see the effect they had on him as Niji dropped his drink in surprise, both of us momentarily turning to glance at him.

But my focus was solely on Ichiji. “I mean it, Ichiji. Especially after what was left of dinner…” I let the words trail off, a teasing smile playing on my lips. “I want you. I want you in every way a man like you wants a woman like me.”

The heat in the room intensified, and Ichiji’s breath caught slightly as his eyes flared with raw hunger. “You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he warned, his voice low and edged with a primal urgency. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, radiating a need that matched my own. 

“I do actually,” I replied, leaning in, letting my lips almost graze his. “I’m asking for a night with my soon-to-be husband to explore the dangerous ways he knows how to indulge with his soon-to-be wife.” I emphasized the words, letting them hang in the air, igniting the tension that crackled between us. “I want you to take me to the depths of pleasure only you know.”

His gaze was unwavering, the intensity in his eyes sending a thrill through me. He stepped closer, his fingers grazing along my jaw, and leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "You think you can handle all of me?" His tone was rich with both challenge and promise. “Because once we start, I’m not holding back. Every whisper, every gasp, every moan—I’ll make sure you remember them.”

I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Please," I replied, matching his intensity. "I don’t need you to go easy on me. I want everything. I want the world to know exactly what you do to me." My hand slid up his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under my touch. "I want to hear you growl my name, Tiger, until there’s no doubt about what you make me feel."

A low chuckle escaped him, dark and dangerously tempting. “Then be careful what you wish for, because I can be relentless." He tilted my chin up, his fingers brushing down the side of my neck. "You’ll be gasping for more, and I won’t stop until you’re pleading for mercy." His lips hovered just a breath away from mine, teasing, torturing.

I leaned into him, my voice a playful whisper. "That depends entirely on what position you put me in," I murmured, letting the words hang between us. "I’m quite… flexible."

His eyes flashed with a hungry glint, his hands sliding to my hips, pulling me flush against him. "Flexible, huh?" he drawled, his voice thick with anticipation. “Good. Because I don’t intend to let you go until I’ve had my fill."

 “But let’s not waste any more time.” I leaned in, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I wanted to get through with this to secretly meet my crew.” I thought 

Ichiji’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he considered my words. “Then let’s go,” he said, the decisive tone leaving no room for argument as he took my hand, leading the way to his room

As we stood in front of his door, my heart raced with anticipation. Just as I reached for the handle, Ichiji surprised me by throwing me over his shoulder, the champagne and two flutes still in hand, along with the vial and my blade tucked safely in the pocket of his coat.

“Hey!” I squealed, laughter bubbling up as I adjusted to my new position. “Is this how you plan to carry me into the night?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, a playful edge to his voice. “What kind of groom would I be if I didn’t sweep you off your feet?”

“Just remember, if you drop me, you’re in big trouble,” I teased, feigning indignation, but my laughter was infectious.

“Trust me, I won’t let you fall,” he promised, his tone serious yet playful. He kicked the door open with his foot, striding into the room confidently. After a brief moment, he quickly set me down to lock the door, and I took the opportunity to explore the space.

Ichiji’s room was adorned with satin sheets that gleamed in the soft light, a small kitchen area tucked away, and a large mirror greeting me as I stepped further in. Perfect, I thought, excitement bubbling within me.

As I made my way toward the kitchen aisle, Ichiji spun me around, pulling me close and kissing me hungrily. I hooked my arm around his neck, my heart racing as our lips moved together. But just as things were heating up, he began to fumble with my coat, trying to open it.

I laughed, pulling away playfully. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in bed while I open this up for us?” I suggested a teasing smile on my lips.

Ichiji eagerly nodded, his gaze burning with desire as he turned around and made his way toward the bed. I took a moment to admire the way he moved, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.

I placed the glasses and the bottle of champagne on the kitchen aisle before I pulled out the sleep vial from one of my coat pockets. Quickly, I opened the cork and poured a generous amount into his glass, closing it swiftly and returning it to my pocket. With the bottle of champagne in hand, I uncorked it, the fizz spraying out and hitting my skin.

“Oops!” I laughed, turning to see Ichiji already removing his shirt and pants, his toned physique illuminated by the soft glow of the room. I poured generous amounts of champagne into both glasses, savoring the moment.

With a playful smirk, I grabbed the bottle and sashayed my hips as I approached him, handing it to him. “Hold, please,” I instructed, my voice low and sultry.

Ichiji took the bottle, his eyes darkening with desire as I reached for our glasses. I handed him his, the warmth of his hand brushing against mine, sending a thrill through me. I slowly sipped from my champagne glass, feeling the bubbles dance on my tongue, while Ichiji mirrored my movements, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

With a playful grin, I grabbed the bottle and set it beside the bed before taking his hand, our fingers intertwining. “Cheers, to a memorable night,” I declared, our glasses clinking together before we both downed the champagne in one swift motion.

“Looks like we’ll need another refill, huh?” I laughed, the excitement bubbling inside me. Without warning, Ichiji threw his glass against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room.

I raised an eyebrow at his reckless abandon but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto my lips. As he reached for me, I placed my glass down, my heart racing as I made my way up slowly, teasing him with my movements.

“Why don’t we take this off?” I suggested, my voice low and inviting as I untied my coat. The fabric slipped from my shoulders, revealing the black lace underneath.

Ichiji’s eyes widened, raking over my figure with a hunger that made my pulse quicken. “Black lace…” he murmured, his hands ghosting over the delicate fabric, igniting sparks of electricity across my skin. I could feel the heat radiating from him, and it sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me. “I thought it fit the theme… you don’t like it?” I said in a sweet, teasing tone, feigning innocence as I glanced up at him through my lashes.

Ichiji’s eyes darkened, a primal hunger flickering in his gaze as he took a step closer, closing the space between us. “Like it? No, Y/N. I don’t just like it,” he said, his voice low and filled with a raw, unrestrained desire. “I crave it. I want to feel every inch of you, to taste that fiery spirit of yours that makes me lose control.” 

His words sent shivers down my spine, and I felt a flush of heat creep across my cheeks. The intensity of his gaze held me captive, and I could see the hunger burning in his eyes—a hunger that mirrored my own. 

“You have no idea how hard it is to resist you right now,” he continued, his hands inching up to my waist, fingers grazing my skin through the delicate lace. “Every second that passes just makes me want you more. You’re driving me wild.” Ichiji then began to place kisses on my neck, causing me to sigh in delight. 

His fingers trailed lower, teasing my core, and a gasp escaped my lips as I fought to catch my breath. “Ichiji…” I whispered again, my voice trembling with anticipation and desire. The way he touched me sent jolts of electricity coursing through my body, igniting a fire within that I could no longer contain. “Just like that.” I whispered as Ichiji continued, to tease my core through my panties. My hand went to grab his wrist, but Ichiji grabbed it, putting it behind my back. “Do you really want me to stop” smirked Ichiji as he continued to tease. “No” I said in a breathy moan. “Focus on the mission y/n!” I thought.  

Ichiji then looked deep into my eyes, searching for permission, and the intensity of his gaze made my heart race even faster. “Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he urged, his voice a low, sultry whisper that wrapped around me like a warm embrace. “I need to hear it.”

“I want you,” I breathed, my voice trembling just enough to sound genuine, the words laced with a mix of eagerness and vulnerability. “I want you to take me. I want you in all the ways I’ve imagined us together—this moment, right here, right now.” My breath hitched as I leaned into his touch, the deliberate tilt of my head back to sell the role.

Ichiji’s eyes darkened with desire, he let go of my wrist from behind my back and grabbed my waist, tightening it  as he pulled me flush against him. “You’re intoxicating,” he murmured, his lips beginning to trail down my jawline and back to the sensitive spot on my neck, where his teeth grazed lightly before pressing a kiss that left me shivering. “Every word, every move you make... it’s like you’re daring me to lose control.”

I let out a soft, breathless laugh, threading my fingers through his hair as I tilted my head back, feigning surrender. “Maybe I am,” I whispered, my voice dripping with seduction, though my mind remained focused. Just a little longer until the drug takes effect, I thought, my heart pounding from the gamble I was taking.

His hands roamed my sides with deliberate intent, the slow, possessive glide of his fingers igniting a dangerous heat between us. They traced the curve of my hips, lingering just enough to make me gasp softly, before sliding up the small of my back. Each touch sent a shiver through me, blurring the line between the part I was playing and the reality of his desire. He pulled me closer, the distance between us vanishing as our bodies pressed flush together.

“You’ve thought about this moment,” he said, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that seemed to reverberate through the air around us. His lips hovered tantalizingly close to mine, his breath warm against my skin. His eyes, sharp and searching, burned with a mixture of intrigue and hunger. “Tell me,” he pressed, his tone both commanding and coaxing, “how you imagined it.”

My lips parted, drawing in a shaky breath as I raised my gaze to meet his, letting a flicker of vulnerability soften my expression. “I imagined this,” I replied, my voice soft yet steady, laced with just enough longing to make it convincing. My fingers trailed up his chest, pausing at his collar before brushing against the side of his neck. “I imagined the way your touch would feel—how it would ignite something inside me. I thought about how it would feel to have you lose control, to see you come undone because of me.”

With a primal growl, Ichiji’s restraint snapped. His hands gripped my waist firmly, pulling me flush against him, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. The sheer strength in his movements sent a jolt through me as his lips descended on mine, capturing them in a kiss that was raw, demanding, and unapologetically fierce. His breath was hot against my skin as he moved, trailing kisses down to the hollow of my neck.

“You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed,” he growled against my ear, his voice rough with desire. His words sent a shiver racing down my spine as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin at the base of my neck, followed by the soothing heat of his lips. My breath hitched involuntarily, my body reacting to the intensity he poured into every touch, every movement.

His hands roamed up my back, fingers splayed as though to anchor me in place, while his other hand drifted to my thigh, pulling me impossibly closer. “Tell me,” he whispered, his voice a velvet rasp, “did you imagine me like this—devouring every inch of you?”

I allowed my fingers to thread through his hair, tugging slightly to tilt his head back, forcing his burning gaze to meet mine. “I imagined you exactly like this,” I whispered, my tone a perfect blend of sultry and inviting. “I wanted you like this—unrestrained, wanting me as much as I want you.”

In one swift motion, he lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed adorned with satin sheets. I took off his glasses and tossed them aside, noticing a smirk tugging at his lips, but his eyes began to blink, focusing on regaining his vision. Seizing the opportunity, I swiftly switched our positions, pinning him beneath me.

As I began to plant soft kisses along his chest and neck, I could feel his body react to my touch. “Princess…” he groaned, tilting his head back to grant me better access, his voice thick with desire. I couldn't help but tease him further, rolling my hips against him, feeling the way he shivered in delight beneath me.

“I want you to moan out loud what you want, tiger,” I said, my breath hot against his skin as I continued to kiss his neck, seeking out that sweet spot that made him squirm. 

“Ahhh!” he groaned, the sound raw and guttural, echoing through the room. His hands gripped my hips like a lifeline, pulling me flush against him as he arched toward me, his need evident in every strained movement. His fiery red gaze met mine, burning with an insatiable hunger that threatened to consume us both.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice cracking under the weight of his desire. “Please…”

I smirked, leaning forward just enough to brush my lips against his ear, letting my breath ghost over his skin. “Come on, tiger,” I teased, my voice dripping with sultry confidence as I rolled my hips deliberately against him, drawing another involuntary groan from his lips. “Be a good boy and tell me what you want.”

He shuddered beneath me, his composure slipping further with each passing second. His hands slid from my hips to my thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as though grounding himself. “I want you,” he finally growled, his tone both pleading and commanding, his control hanging by a thread. “I want all of you—no games, no distance. Just…you.”

Ichiji's raw desperation electrified the air between us, his grip on my thighs tightening as though he feared I might slip away. His fiery red gaze locked onto mine, blazing with a primal hunger that sent a delicious shiver coursing down my spine. His vulnerability, laid bare in that single plea, sent a thrill of power surging through me.

I grinned against his neck, dragging my lips lower, letting the faint graze of my teeth leave a trail of heat along his skin. My fingers danced lightly along his sides, teasingly tracing the contours of his lean frame. Every touch elicited a new gasp or groan, his body trembling under the weight of his restraint.

“You’re making this too easy, Ichiji,” I murmured, my voice dripping with playful seduction. My lips hovered just above his collarbone, brushing against it as I spoke, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath my touch. “Are you always this impatient?”

“Damn it,” he growled, his hands flexing against my thighs as his frustration boiled over. “Just…don’t tease me!” His voice cracked slightly, a mix of command and plea that made my grin widen. “I want you—now.”

I chuckled softly, noticing the way his eyelids were growing heavy, a telltale sign that he was beginning to succumb to sleep. Bingo! It’s working, I thought with a mischievous grin.

I continued to tease him, a playful glint in my eyes as I took his hands and dragged them over my body, finally placing them to rest on my bra. “Would you be a dear and hold still?” I asked sweetly, my voice low and sultry.

As I began to unhook the bra, I let the straps fall slowly, reveling in the way his breath hitched at the sight. “That’s it, Ichiji,” I purred, leaning in closer, letting him feel the warmth radiating off me. “Soon, you will have everything you’ve desired.”

I slowly rolled my hips again, feeling him sink deeper into the mattress beneath me. “What’s wrong?” I teased, grabbing my discarded bra and tossing it aside, his hands firmly resting on my breasts.

Ichiji soon bucked his hips, trying to get more friction, causing a soft moan to escape my lips. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, but I needed to stay focused on my mission. However, as I began to notice Ichiji's hands slowly slipping from their grip, I decided it was time to switch things up.

I stood up from my position, a soft whine leaving his lips, and sauntered over to grab the bottle of champagne once more. “You know, tiger,” I said with a sly smile, “you look so good right now.” I poured some of the champagne over him, the cold liquid mixing with his warmth, and he moaned in delight.

“I wonder how good you taste,” I murmured, leaning down to lick the champagne from his chest, savoring the flavor of both the drink and the man beneath me. The sweet tang of the champagne mixed with the salty taste of his skin, creating a heady combination that sent a thrill down my spine. I continued to trace teasing licks on his chest, going lower towards his defined abs. 

“Y/N…” he groaned, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re killing me.”

With a sudden surge of energy, Ichiji flipped me over, pinning me beneath him as the champagne bottle clattered to the floor, rolling away unnoticed. His hands gripped my wrists, holding them firmly above my head as he leaned down, his face hovering just inches from mine. His breath was hot against my lips, and his crimson eyes burned with intensity.

“You really think you can tease me like that and get away with it?” he growled, his voice rough and low, sending a thrill through me.

I smirked up at him, maintaining my confident demeanor despite the rapid beating of my heart. “Come on, tiger,” I whispered, my voice dripping with challenge. “Show me how serious you are.”

His grin widened, predatory and wicked, as he captured my lips in a kiss that was as much a battle as it was a surrender. Heat surged between us as his lips moved against mine, hungry and demanding. His grip on my wrists loosened just enough for me to slide my hands free, trailing them down his chest and feeling the hard contours of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.

He groaned against my mouth, his hands moving to my waist and pulling me closer, his fingers digging into my sides as though trying to ground himself in the chaos of the moment. I rolled my hips against him, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him that fueled my confidence further.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered against my lips, his voice raw with need. His hands roamed over my body, exploring every curve, every inch, as though he couldn’t get enough.

I tilted my head back, giving him access to my neck, and he took the invitation eagerly, his lips and teeth grazing my skin in a way that sent shivers down my spine. “I’ve thought about this,” he admitted, his voice thick with desire. “Thought about you. Wanting you. And now that I have you—”

He paused, his movements faltering slightly. His breaths came slower, his grip on my waist loosening as his body began to betray him. I opened my eyes and glanced at him, watching the subtle change as the drug I had slipped into the champagne took effect.

“Ichiji?” I said softly, feigning concern as I gently cupped his cheek. His crimson eyes blinked sluggishly, the fire in them dimming as exhaustion overtook him. “Are you okay?”

“I… I’m fine,” he muttered, though his voice was unsteady. He shook his head, as if trying to clear the fog that was quickly enveloping him. “Just... tired, all of a sudden…”

I brushed my fingers through his hair, leaning in as if to comfort him. “Shh, it’s okay,” I whispered, my lips grazing his ear. “Just rest. I’ll take care of everything.”

He rested beside me, his breathing slow and controlled, and I couldn’t help but smirk. “Sweet dreams, fiancé,” I whispered, feeling a sense of triumph wash over me as phase one was complete. I got up and made my way to where my coat lay crumpled on the floor. Grabbing my thigh holster and blade, I secured them on my right thigh, feeling the familiar surge of power return.

With a swift motion, I wrapped my coat around me again, tightening the ties to ensure I was ready for action. Approaching the mirror, I took a moment to assess my appearance. I redid my ponytail, ensuring every strand was in place, and fixed the edges of my lips, which were subtly smeared from earlier. Just as I was admiring my reflection, I caught sight of two familiar figures in the glass—Nami and Chopper.

“Y/N!” they yelled in unison, their faces lighting up with excitement.

I smiled back, relieved and amused. “It’s about time you found me,” I laughed as they dragged me into the mirror world.

Once inside, I glanced back at Ichiji, still peacefully asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. For a brief moment, guilt crept into my mind, but I quickly pushed it aside. There was no time for second thoughts—I had work to do. As soon as I stepped in, my eyes caught Nami, now wearing a sleek jumpsuit compared to the dress she had on earlier.

"Nami, what...?" I started, but she shook her head with a small sigh.

"It's a long story," she said, brushing it off as if she’d seen too much already for one night. “What about you?” she said smirking. “Its a long story too.” I said laughing. 

My gaze shifted, and to my surprise, I saw a familiar, comforting face.

"Jinbei!" I exclaimed with joy, rushing over to hug him. He returned the embrace, his deep, hearty laugh bringing a sense of warmth I hadn’t felt in a while.

"It's so good to see you," I added as I pulled away. Then I saw Carrot, Chopper, Pedro, Brulee, and that odd train guy who had clearly gotten mixed up in this chaos.

"Alright, where’s Brook?" I asked, scanning the group, realizing someone was missing.

"The mirrors mentioned that he was captured by Big Mom," Jinbei said, his voice somber.

"Damn, that's not good," I muttered, gripping my ponytail in frustration. Brook being captured was going to complicate things even further.

Nami interrupted my thoughts by tossing me my satchel. "Oh, Y/N, by the way, here."

I caught it, opening it up to find my second blade, my sword, and Zoro's bandana nestled inside. Relief washed over me as I grabbed the second blade, sliding it back into the thigh halter. As soon as the blades were reunited, a faint electric hue crackled around me, responding to their connection. I crossed the satchel over me, my sword still inside. 

I tied Zoro's bandana around my head, the familiar fabric giving me a sense of comfort and focus. "Thanks for taking care of these," I said sincerely, glancing at Nami.

Nami raised a brow. "I do want to know why the blade was glowing even though you weren’t near it."

I smiled at her curiosity. "When I separated the blades, keeping only one with me, the other acts as if I'm still connected to it. My energy transfers through the blade, no matter where it is. I also set it to act as protection in case anyone tried anything, and well if someone were to take my things, they would get a surprise.” I said, smirking.  

Nami nodded thoughtfully. "That’s... pretty impressive."

I shrugged, adjusting the bandana once more.

“There’s a lot more these blades can do, and I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface,” I said, glancing at the electric glow around my reunited weapons. The sense of untapped potential simmered beneath the surface, almost begging to be explored. But there was no time for that now.

Brulee, tied up and visibly frustrated, spat venomous words at Jinbei. “How dare you betray Big Mom, you spineless coward! You were given the choice to spin the roulette, and this is how you repay her?”

Jinbei remained stoic, but Pedro chimed in, his tone grim. “The game is rigged. Five years ago, my partner was given the same fate. Instead of a fair spin, his life was taken away.”

“Old hag,” I muttered under my breath, disgusted at the lengths Big Mom would go to maintain her twisted sense of control.

Brulee laughed cruelly. “The roulette is meant to kill those who try to leave. There’s no escaping Big Mom’s wrath. You’re all doomed!”

Chopper, clearly fed up, tightened the ropes binding her. “We’re wasting time! We have to hurry and find Luffy, Sanji, and Brook!”

Without further delay, we all clambered onto the train—though it was far from the most luxurious form of travel. As the train creaked and groaned under our weight, the conductor whined, “Hey, that’s not fair! You’re drastically over the weight limit!”

Carrot, ever resourceful, nipped at the conductor’s arm to get him moving. “Keep going!” she demanded, her determination evident.

The train lurched forward, albeit slowly, and we all braced ourselves. Time was running out, and we needed to regroup with the others before things spiraled even further out of control. 

Brook POV..

After a fierce battle and my defeat at the hands of Big Mom, I found myself dangling helplessly in her grip. “Hmph, I owe our little friend a word of praise. He’s the first one to land a scratch on one of you,” she said, as Prometheus whined about the scar I’d given him.

I remained limp, pretending to be unconscious. It was the only way I could ensure I didn’t give anything away.

“Mama, do you plan to keep that skeleton with you?” Pudding’s voice rang out, dripping with disdain.

“That skeleton… Pudding, I’m appalled. Is that really all I am to you?” I thought, feeling a sharp sting at being so dismissed. But I remained still as Big Mom continued to dangle me like a ragdoll.

“Yes, certainly! This is a one-of-a-kind work of art, so I think I’m going to carry it around for a while,” Big Mom declared with a cackle.

“Please no… I don’t want to be her accessory,” I thought, shuddering inwardly.

“By the way, Pudding, you did a very good job yourself,” Big Mom continued. “I’m surprised the Straw Hats made it past the Seducing Woods. Even more surprised that the princess managed to make it to the engagement ceremony. But now, they’re all trapped”

My heart sank. “Luffy… Nami… Y/N…” I thought, concern for my friends.

Pudding chimed in, her voice oozing with smugness. “I know, Mama. I went to see them. It really serves them right. But that princess still annoyed me—she’s too smart to fall for my tricks.”

“Y/N was right about Pudding,” I realized bitterly.

Big Mom laughed, her booming voice shaking me. “But it serves her right for trying to act all hero and snoop around. The first time was hard enough trying to knock her out, but she’s tough to crack. The second time, though, I shot her in the side.” Said Pudding

“What did she do?!” I thought in alarm, fighting the urge to move.

“Once the wedding is over, they’re all going to die. I’ve already sent out barmaids to everyone in Germa. They’re all so intoxicated, we can slip anything past them.” Big Mom let out a satisfied grunt. 

Pudding let out a satisfied sigh.“Good. But Reiju was snooping around earlier. She’s very perceptive. 

Big mom then halts and eyed pudding. “You didn’t kill her or Y/N, right?”

“As much as I wanted to kill Y/N, I didn’t,” Pudding replied, her voice gleeful. “I simply shot Reiju in the leg, shot Y/N in the side, and knocked her out with the gun. Then I erased their memories. "I even added had someone knock on her door before everything and had her see what Sanji and I were doing, she was in such a shock, tears even fell from her eyes!" said pudding laughing "had to manipulate her memory so that way she still harbored anger towards Sanji. 

“That devil!” I seethed internally. 

“I must be mistaken somehow... all this time, Pudding, I thought you were a nice girl...” I thought, my mind reeling as Big Mom’s words confirmed everything. My body began to spin slowly, almost involuntarily, towards Pudding. How could someone so outwardly sweet be so vile inside?

Big Mom’s voice cut through the air, her grip on me tightening slightly. “Be careful, dear, you're our precious little bride after all. If both Reiju and Y/N try to get revenge, there could be a disaster,” she said, her tone laced with mock concern.

“I appreciate your concern, Mama, but thanks to them, I got a chance to practice my gun,” Pudding replied with a twisted smile, pulling out her pistol. The sight of it in her hands sent chills down my bony spine—if I had one, that is. “Even the artificially modified people of Germa, along with whatever weapons the princess may have, won’t be enough to survive this,” she added, her voice dripping with malice.

Germa... and Y/N? My skull rattled as I held back my outrage, not daring to break my facade.

Big Mom let out a booming laugh. “What a clever girl! Then again, you are my daughter. Tomorrow, your gunfire will set my genius plan into motion. I can’t wait!” she cackled with twisted glee, revealing the dark depths of her plan. “Then, when the happy couple appears, everyone’s attention will be on the kiss. But once you reveal your third eye, Sanji will see the bride for the monster she truly is. Aim the gun between his curly eyebrows and bam! The wedding guests will be stunned, and soon the people of Germa will be, too. But it will be too late—a wall of gunfire will rain down on the Vinsmokes, and that will include the princess!”

They’re planning to kill Sanji and Y/N! I thought in horror, my mind racing. This is far worse than I ever imagined. 

Big Mom continued with a wicked grin, her voice dripping with malice as she dangled me in front of Pudding. “All seven Vinsmokes will lie motionless on the floor, in a pool of crimson... after they have been stripped of that useless leader, their forces and technology will be mine!” she declared, her laughter echoing through the room, sending shivers through the air.

Sanji…Y/N! My mind raced. This isn’t just an assassination—it’s a slaughter, and Y/N will be caught in the crossfire. I can't let this happen!

"Ma-ma-ma-ma!" Big Mom cackled. “With the Vinsmokes out of the way, their science will belong to me. Germa’s army will finally be under my control!”

Pudding smiled darkly, her eyes flashing with malicious glee. "And no one will even suspect what hit them. Once the shock of my third eye and the gunfire sinks in, it’ll be too late. That pathetic princess won't even have a chance to draw those fancy weapons of hers."

I have to warn them, I thought desperately. But how? I pretended to remain unconscious, biding my time. I need to find a way to escape. The others—Sanji, Y/N—they're depending on me…

Third POV…

In the dimly lit meeting room, the tension was palpable as Montd'Or, the keeper of Big Mom's library, sat at the head of the table surrounded by the Charlotte children. His fingers drummed thoughtfully on the surface as he scrutinized the wanted posters of the Straw Hats and their allies.

"Can you confirm the groom is in his room?" Montd'Or asked, his voice calm but commanding.

"Yes, sir," replied a soldier, standing at attention. "The groom is resting in his quarters."

Montd'Or gave a slight nod. "Good. We know their objective is to retrieve Vinsmoke Sanji, and that there were seven of them when Pudding lured them to the island." His gaze shifted to the wanted posters and the rough sketches laid out before him. He studied the faces of Luffy, Nami, Chopper, Brook, and Y/N, alongside the sketches of Pedro and Carrot.

"Soul King, Brook, is with Mama, so he’s accounted for," Montd'Or continued, his tone methodical as he began crossing off names. "Pedro... well, he blew himself up in the third-floor courtyard. We can check those two off. That’s two down."

His eyes moved to the next names on the list, and he crossed out Carrot and Chopper’s sketches. "In the Seducing Woods, the rabbit and the raccoon were captured. So that takes care of them."

The others at the table watched as Montd'Or picked up his pen once more, the tip hovering over the last three remaining figures. He placed Luffy, Nami, and Y/N’s wanted posters front and center.

"That leaves these three," Montd'Or said, his gaze lingering on the faces of Luffy, Nami, and Y/N. "Straw Hat Luffy, Cat Burglar Nami, and the princess... Y/N." He paused, narrowing his eyes. "These three are still unaccounted for. And we know they won't stop until they’ve rescued the groom." 

"We actually recieved report that the princess in with her fiancé, the other son from the Vinsmokes." said one of the soldiers. 

Montd'Or’s brow furrowed as he absorbed the soldier’s report. “The princess is with her fiancé, the other Vinsmoke son?” he repeated, though skepticism laced his tone. His instincts told him that Y/N’s presence with Ichiji might not be as straightforward as it seemed.

“Hmmm…” Montd'Or stroked his chin, thinking. "I'm not entirely convinced. Send a few soldiers to the Vinsmokes' room. We can't afford to make assumptions when it comes to Y/N."

The soldier nodded and quickly exited to carry out the order. Montd'Or's sharp gaze shifted back to the posters of Luffy, Nami, and Y/N. “These three managed to beat Big Brother Cracker and then escape the Seducing Woods... Yet, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Monkey D. Luffy and Cat Burglar Nami are still inside the Prison Library. So why are we hearing rumors that they’ve escaped?”

His voice was cold and calculating as his gaze snapped toward Opera, who stood at the far end of the room, shifting uncomfortably under his brother’s scrutiny.

“Would you care to enlighten us, Big Brother Opera?" Montd'Or pressed. "I also heard Jinbei was there. What happened?"

Opera stiffened, his voice rising defensively. “I burned them to death!” he blurted out, his arms gesturing wildly. “Can’t you at least trust the word of your own brother?! I swear, I finished them off. There’s no way they could have survived that!”

Montd'Or’s eyes narrowed, his suspicion not fully eased by Opera’s outburst. “For your sake, Opera, I hope you’re telling the truth. But remember... if they did escape, that’s on you.” The tension in his voice was clear, hanging in the air like a blade ready to drop.

With a sigh, Montd'Or turned back to the room. “All of the intruders accounted for or not, the preparations are complete. Let’s focus on what’s most important now—giving our adorable sister Pudding an incredible wedding. We can’t afford distractions.”

As he gave the command, the soldiers moved to expand their surveillance across Whole Cake Island. “Expand your coverage until morning,” Montd'Or ordered sternly. “I want eyes everywhere. No one slips through the cracks. Not Luffy, not Nami, and especially not the princess."

The soldiers saluted and dispersed swiftly to cover every corner of the castle. Montd'Or remained, staring intently at the wanted posters. They’ve gotten this far... but we won’t let them interfere with Mama’s plans.

Sanji POV…

I sat down quietly, my mind racing, trying to figure out a way to save everyone. Reiju's words still weighed heavily on me, her voice echoing in my thoughts.

"Go find the Straw Hats. Take Y/N and leave this island, Sanji."

Her firm command rattled me. “Like how?! I can’t do that!” I snapped out loud, frustration clawing at my chest. It felt like I was being suffocated by the impossible choices before me.

What do you think will happen to the Baratie? Hell, what do you think will happen to King and all those people on that island that Y/N loves and cares for?! I can’t just leave them all behind!

"Just run. Figure it out and escape. Stay here, and all of you will die," Reiju had said firmly.

Her words rang in my mind, louder each time I replayed them, and I gripped my hair in frustration. "What do I do?" I muttered under my breath. It felt like the weight of the entire world was pressing down on me. I opened the basket sitting beside me and sighed, realizing something as I took out the bento box.

"Wait a minute... did I really cook this for Pudding?" I said, staring at the contents in disbelief. “Man, what was I thinking?”

As I began to look at the carefully prepared food, something dawned on me. I hadn’t made this with Pudding in mind at all. Each meal inside the box was meant for my crew—Nami’s favorite tangerines, Chopper’s chocolate treats, sandwiches for Robin, Luffy’s beloved mountain of meat, and even meals for Zoro, Usopp, Franky, and Brook. But the one dish that pulled me into a daze was Y/N’s.

I stared at her portion, the scent of it filling my nostrils. Her favorite: pasta with extra cream sauce, adorned with bits of meat and bacon, just the way she liked it. Even the wine bottle sitting beside it was one of her favorites. The memories of when I made this dish flashed in my mind.

Flashback...

I was in the kitchen, meticulously preparing everything for the crew. The scent of sizzling bacon and the richness of the cream sauce filled the air as I stirred the pot, adding the final touches to the pasta I was making for Y/N.

I had just placed her plate down when Zoro barged in, his eyes zeroing in on the dish I’d just finished.

“Hey!, cook! Where's my meal?!" he demanded, arms crossed over his chest. His impatience always grated on my nerves.

I grit my teeth, turning to him with a scowl. "Your meal? You’ll get it when I’m done with the others, you moss-headed swordsman! Don’t rush me!"

Zoro smirked, leaning lazily against the doorframe. “Seems like you already finished someone’s plate. What’s so special about that one, huh?”

Before I could retort, Y/N appeared, slipping into the kitchen with a bright smile. She made a beeline for her plate and took a seat. "Can you believe it? Sanji made my favorite pasta!" she exclaimed happily.

Her smile practically made the room shine brighter, and for a moment, I forgot all about the moss-head’s irritating presence. "He even got it down to a T! It’s perfect!" she added, her excitement contagious as she twirled a forkful of pasta.

I couldn’t help but smile back. "Anything for you, Y/N," I said smoothly, leaning against the counter.

But then, Zoro, the mosshead, sauntered over and plopped down next to Y/N, his gaze fixed on her plate with a wicked grin. "Hey, Y/N, mind if I have a bite?" Before she could respond, he snatched the fork from her hand, plopping the food into his mouth while maintaining eye contact with her. She blushed slightly, caught off guard by his sudden boldness.

"Not bad," he said, swallowing the bite, then casually handed the fork back to her, a triumphant smirk plastered on his face. Y/N shook her head and laughed, clearly amused despite the cheeky interruption.

"Not bad," Zoro repeated, his smirk widening as he shot me a smug look. "The cook actually knows what he’s doing."

I felt irritation bubbling inside me, my fists clenching at my sides. The mosshead always knew how to get under my skin, but this—this was a whole new level of audacity.

Before I could snap back at him, Y/N playfully swatted Zoro in the chest. "Don’t be rude," she scolded, laughter dancing in her eyes. "Besides, it's a dish he made for me, right, Sanji?"

Her teasing smile instantly melted away my frustration, and I grinned back at her, all my irritation forgotten in an instant. "That's right, Y/N-chan," I said smoothly, flipping my hair as if I were on stage. "I made it just for you, with all the love and care in the world."

Zoro rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smirk. "Tch, you really know how to lay it on thick, don’t you, curly-brow?"

End of Flashback…

I snapped back to the present, the warm memory fading as the reality of my situation sank in. I closed the basket tightly, gripping the handle so hard my knuckles turned white. "I made all their favorites out of habit," I muttered to myself, the weight of everything pressing down on me. My head fell into my hands as I tried to push the thoughts away.

"Forget them... you have to." The words echoed in my mind, but the more I thought about it, the harder it became. I don’t have to worry about Luffy and the others. They'll find a way out, like they always do. But Y/N... I can’t let her marry Ichiji. I don’t care about the Vinsmokes. I can die with them, but Y/N... for her to be bound to this cruel fate, to die with them too?

My thoughts swirled, chaotic and relentless. Even if my life was short, it was a fulfilling one, I thought bitterly. But that didn’t change the fact that Y/N was caught in this nightmare with me. And Luffy… he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t move. He promised he’d stay in that spot until I came back to him.

Suddenly, a soldier from Big Mom’s army interrupted my spiral of thoughts, reaching for one of the meat dishes meant for Luffy. "Ohh, food..." one of Big Moms children mumbled, grabbing the piece of meat.

Something inside me snapped.

"Hey, wait a second—are you Sanji Vinsmoke? Montdour said you were asleep in your room."

Without thinking, I lashed out. "Get your hands off!" I shouted, sending him flying into the wall with a single kick. "That food... is not for you!"

I stood there, chest heaving, realization dawning on me as I stared at the unconscious soldier. What the hell did I just do?

My body moved on its own. I grabbed the basket and ran, my heart pounding as my feet carried me faster than I could think. What the hell am I doing? I thought, feeling the panic rise. But my feet kept moving, and before I knew it, I was heading straight to where Luffy had said he wouldn’t move.

To the spot where he was waiting for me

[shellem15]

Anyways I'm still not over my devil boys. Thinking about all the parallels between them:

Because like, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, right? Draws in and punishes people for trying to be good, trying to *help* those they care about. And whether they succeed or not is irrelevant because in the end they're damned either way. That's the lie, then, that their sacrifice would ever actually change their fate.

And its just: HELL IS LIKE THAT BECAUSE IT’S A REFLECTION OF ITS LORD AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED TO *HIM*. THAT’S WHAT MADE HIM REAL IN THE FIRST PLACE AND NOW HES STUCK LIKE IT FOREVER!!!

That's what happened to Asmodeus and then he did it to Vespin Chloras and Zerxus and then Zerxus tried to do it with Pike too (in tlovm). It's a never-ending cycle where the one who's burned then becomes the fire for the next person!!! UGHHH

And it all starts with that one act of good intent, that act of sacrifice! Imri throwing himself to the flames, knowing he would burn, to protect his family at the cost of himself. Luz saving him but in the end he chooses to burn anyways, this time out of hate. Zerxus selling his soul to save his son and his world, knowing that damnation would be the end result. Nydas giving him an out, killing him before dawn struck but Zerxus stubbornly, hubristically clinging to life, to his ideals and pride, anyways. Choosing to burn and losing himself entirely in the process.

(Ironically enough Vespin kind of breaks the cycle? Trying to replace a god to remove a great evil from the world and instead damning it in the process. But when given his mind back he takes this chance and stretches it as far as he can, choosing not to be the fire but to give his world a chance at survival. Doing it knowing he will be hated anyways. Learning from his mistake, humbled at the consequences of his hubris where Asmodeus and Zerxus grew proud. Burning for it anyways. I get the sense that if he was given an out he would take it, unlike the other two.)

Love becomes sacrifice becomes resentment becomes hatred. Hatred towards those they sacrificed for because why did it have to be them who burned? Why do they get to be whole while I am broken? How dare they get to have light and love and happiness while I burn in the dark. Why didn't they burn with me? If they really loved me they would burn too!

Hatred towards those who seek to help them, because how dare you pity me. I chose this, I chose to burn! I knew the costs! How dare you spit in the face of my sacrifice! Did it truly mean so little to you that you would wipe away all trace of it!? Trying to heal me, trying to fix me, trying to redeem me, I did this for you! I didn't do anything wrong!

Hatred towards their corrupter, towards their damnation because everything was fine before they came along. Before they ruined everything! It's their fault for breaking it and now I'm going to make them pay for it! It doesn't matter who I hurt because nothing else matters except making sure they regret ever touching me.

Hatred towards themselves because how could someone be so stupid as to try? Love is weakness and sacrifice is for fools and those who throw themselves to the pyre deserve to burn. I'll prove it, to anyone who thinks themselves good and noble and true. Come find out.

And how could they not become resentful, to not have their love turn to hate? It's one thing to choose to burn and another to burn *forever*. A martyr is not supposed to live through the martyrdom, they're supposed to die. Their sacrifice is meant to have an end. They never got to have an end. (Though I will say, its very interesting that Zerxus chose not to die while Asmodeus seemingly *didn't*. He was dying, and the Everlight healed him. Gave him life but took peace with her.)

And the horns too! The symbol of their damnation, of corruption. But they didn’t get it that way, the horns were protection first, before anything. A testament to their love and sacrifice scarred into their flesh, on display for all to see. But that love born of protection is forgotten, both by others and themselves. Twisted into something rotten.

(No wonder Asmodeus is so good at manipulating good. He knows how good people think because that's how he thought, once. He could be so good at being good.)

They're burning. Always. They hate the fire but also, also-- they want to burn. They choose it every time because the alternative is to sacrifice the one thing they cannot, will not--their pride. They would have to be honest to do that, wouldn't they? Honest about the hurt they've caused, honest about how broken they've become. That they do not deserve their fate (that no one does), that while they were burned once they do not need to burn forever. There is always a choice. They'd have to be honest to change and they never will because the Devil sometimes tells the truth he is never honest. He can't be. He won't let himself.