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neurotica-tales · 1 month ago

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Forged in Obsession (Yandere Hiccup x Reader)

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When you first arrive in Berk, you're captivated by dragons and drawn into the fascinating world of their gentle and ingenious rider, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. His kindness, awkward charm, and inventive brilliance quickly make him your closest friend—but beneath his sweet smiles and thoughtful gestures lies a quiet, growing obsession. Unbeknownst to you, every compliment and smile fuels Hiccup’s desperate desire to keep you close. As he carefully hides the intensity of his feelings, the line between friendship and possession begins to blur. Soon, you realize the gentle inventor who stole your heart may never let you leave.

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TW: Obsessive behavior, possessiveness, emotional manipulation, stalking.

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Part 2 now up! Click HERE!

Companion Piece: Caught in the Net (Tuffnut's POV)

Next: Yandere Hiccup Headcanon, The First Kindness (Yandere Tuffnut x Reader)

To find my master list, click HERE.

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The journey to Berk was harsh -- incredibly so -- and many times, you thought about giving up. You weren’t used to cold air biting at your cheeks or snow crunching under your boots. It was so cold you wondered if you'd even make it to Berk before you froze to death. You ask yourself several times about what on earth was it that possessed you to travel to a place in which you've never been before, somewhere that is freezing 12 months of the year. But whenever the thought passed your mind, you'd console yourself with one word.

Dragons.

You were from a place where dragons were myths, legends spoken about in hushed tones or embellished stories told over fires. But Berk? Berk had dragons like trees had leaves. Living, breathing, majestic creatures that soared overhead and curled beside Viking homes like overgrown, scaly cats. The first time you saw a Nadder swoop across the sky, golden spikes glittering like fire in the sun, your breath caught in your throat. This place was everything you'd ever dreamed of—and more. You desperately wanted to see any other dragons the world had to offer with your own eyes, and this yearning gave you the strength to endure every fierce snowstorm and punishing hailstorm.

You arrived in Berk by ship, cloaked and hooded against the biting wind, your pack strapped to your back and your boots worn from travel. Most people paid you no mind. You were just another stranger come to gawk at dragons or seek wisdom from the famous Dragon Riders. Your eyes, however, were wide with wonder, not awe. You weren’t here for stories or fame. You were here because you believed dragons were more than beasts—you believed they were beautiful

So when you arrived—a stranger with no name recognized and no clan claimed—the Berkians didn't give you a second glance. They were used to wanderers by now. Ever since dragons became allies rather than enemies, Berk had gained a reputation across the archipelago.

You kept to yourself, mostly. Wandered the village. Watched the dragons from afar. But there was one that caught your eye the very first day.

He was sleek, black as obsidian with wide green eyes that shimmered like the sea. He had a broken tail fin—one that had clearly been patched and tinkered with, a mechanical hinge enabling flight. His movements were silent, like shadows on silk, but he had a youthful curiosity to him too. Playful, intelligent.

You didn’t know his name.

Only that you saw him first at dawn, perched on a roof with his tail curled like a cat’s, and ever since… you couldn’t help but follow. Just to catch another glimpse.

You weren’t stupid. You knew he had a rider. Some lanky Viking guy with brown hair and a face full of freckles. People always swarmed around him—called him “Chief,” “Dragon Master,” “Hiccup.” But he never caught your interest.

At least, not at first.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

It took a week.

A full week of tailing Toothless like some lovesick puppy, sketching him, whispering excited nothings to yourself whenever he soared overhead, crouching behind barrels to observe him interact with other dragons. You never meant to be subtle—just quiet. You didn’t want to scare him off. He was just so… beautiful.

Then one morning, you turned the corner by Gobber’s forge and ran smack into a chest.

“Oof—sorry—!”

“You.”

You blinked.

The voice was flat. Not angry… but definitely not thrilled either. You tilted your head and looked up.

Freckles. Green eyes. Leather armor. Slight scowl.

“Uh… Hiccup, right?”

His arms were crossed. “So, are you gonna tell me why you’ve been following me for days?”

The words hit you like a bucket of cold water.

“Excuse me?”

He squinted. “I’ve seen you. Don’t pretend I haven’t. First the market, then the docks, then yesterday by the edge of the cove. Always behind something, always looking like you’re trying not to look.”

Your cheeks burned. “I—I wasn’t following you!”

“Oh, really?”

“I was following… your dragon!”

There was a pause.

“What.”

You pointed past him. “The black one. Toothless, right? He’s… he’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like him. I wasn’t watching you, I was watching him.”

Hiccup blinked.

Then blinked again.

Toothless peeked out from behind the forge, tail twitching curiously. As if on cue, he gave a small purr-like sound and nosed at Hiccup’s hand. Immediately, you pursed your lips as you try to not coo at the sight of something so adorable. This was the closest you had ever been to Toothless, and you honestly admitted that he was even more majestic and cute up close, especially with that sleek body of his and the round curious eyes.

The Chief stared at you in dumbfounded silence, mouth slightly open as he witnessed you gushing over his best friend first hand.

“…Oh.”

You shrugged awkwardly, smile embarrassed. “Yeah. Sorry. If I creeped you out, that wasn’t my intention. I just… I love dragons. I came here hoping to see some, and he’s just so—”

“No, no! It’s fine!” he cut in quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “That makes… sense. Wow. I feel stupid now.”

You giggled. “You really thought I was stalking you?”

“I mean,” he muttered, “it’s not like it hasn’t happened before…”

You gave him a look. He immediately went red.

“I didn’t mean—! Ugh, never mind. I’m sorry for confronting you like that. Just… wasn’t sure what was going on.”

You smiled, holding out a hand. “I’m (Y/N) , by the way.”

His fingers hesitated before closing around yours. Warm. Calloused. Surprising strength for someone so wiry.

“Hiccup.”

“I know,” you teased gently.

He smiled, sheepish.

And just like that, something between you clicked.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

It became routine after that.

You’d drop by the forge in the late mornings, when the air was still laced with frost and the smell of soot and steel drifted from the chimney. The place was warm—cozy in its own rugged, metallic way. Gobber would usually bark orders or wander off on errands, leaving you alone with Hiccup in the belly of the forge where the dragon fire kept the shadows at bay.

He was always there, hammering at metal, sleeves rolled up, soot on his cheeks and grease on his fingers. And when he saw you? His entire face lit up. Not dramatically—but in that soft, quiet way that felt real. Honest. He would glance up from his work, his mouth twitching into a crooked smile, and greet you like you were the only person who mattered in that moment.

And you began to linger.

At first, it was innocent curiosity. You asked about the tools, the gears, the strange contraptions that lay scattered across the tables like discarded puzzle pieces. Hiccup answered with enthusiasm that made you smile—his voice speeding up, his hands moving rapidly to show you how something worked, why it failed, or how Toothless had inspired it.

Sometimes, Toothless would rest nearby, lazily curled up on a bed of furs, purring softly when you ran your fingers across his snout. The dragon’s presence was a comfort to both of you. To him, you were a kindred spirit—gentle, patient, genuine.

But Hiccup... Hiccup began watching you more closely.

At first, it was subtle. You’d catch him glancing up while you were talking, his green eyes lingering a little longer than necessary. Then his gaze would drop to your lips, your hands, the sway of your expression as you talked about home or dragons or life beyond Berk.

One afternoon, after a long explanation about a new gliding saddle he was prototyping, you burst into applause, your eyes sparkling. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

Hiccup’s breath caught.

No one said that to him. Not like that. Not with sincerity that made his chest ache.

He laughed it off—at least, he tried to. “Brilliant’s a strong word. More like… stubborn with a hammer.”

But you stepped closer, taking the prototype in your hands. “No. You see things others can’t. You think differently, and that’s what makes you special.”

He was silent.

And in that silence, his fingers accidentally brushed yours.

Neither of you moved away.

His hand lingered, the calloused pads of his fingers grazing the side of your knuckle. His gaze dropped to the contact and stayed there. You heard the forge fire crackle behind you. Felt the heat of it on your back—and the warmth of his presence in front of you.

“I… I’m really glad you’re here,” he said quietly.

You looked up, surprised.

“Berk doesn’t get many people like you,” he added, eyes flicking to yours, the barest tremble in his voice. “People who… look at dragons and see friends. Who look at me and don’t just see the Chief.”

You smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever thought of you as just a chief.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“You don’t have to be perfect, Hiccup,” you continued. “You can just be you.”

Something broke open in him then—some soft, fragile part that had been locked up for years.

He didn’t say anything else. He only smiled.

But after that, the way he looked at you changed.

Each morning, he seemed to sense your arrival before you reached the door. He started keeping little things aside for you—small trinkets, unfinished carvings of dragons, bits of metal shaped like flowers or stars. He told you they were scraps. You knew better.

You caught him one evening, staring at a new piece he was working on. A delicate pendant shaped like a Night Fury’s wing.

He didn’t offer it to you.

Not yet.

But when you left that night, you felt his eyes on your back.

And when you turned to wave, he was still there—standing in the warm glow of the forge, that same crooked smile on his lips.

And something else in his eyes.

Something that made your heart flutter.

You didn’t know it yet.

But that was the moment Hiccup Haddock truly began to fall in love.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

After that night, something shifted.

It wasn’t just that you visited the forge more often—it was that Hiccup began needing you to. He started watching the door before you even arrived, finding himself distracted, irritable when you were late or didn’t come at all. On the days you couldn’t visit, a part of him wilted.

He never said anything about it. Not directly.

But the next day, he would be quieter. Less focused. He’d burn metal or misalign a gear or forget to feed Toothless. He brushed it off when Gobber commented, but Toothless wasn’t so easily fooled. The dragon’s eyes would flick between him and the door, a quiet rumble forming in his throat when he sensed his rider’s unease.

“She’ll be back,” Hiccup would whisper under his breath. “She always comes back.”

And when you did? The light returned to his eyes as if you’d carried the sun in with you.

He started inventing reasons to keep you close. Small repairs he “needed help with.” Dragon anatomy sketches he wanted your opinion on. Flights that just happened to coincide with your daily errands. He never asked directly for your time, but it was clear—he didn’t want to share it.

He didn’t want to share you.

It started with little things.

One afternoon, you were laughing with Fishlegs in the dragon stables. You’d both been admiring Meatlug’s newly polished armor—Fishlegs was animated, nerdy, and incredibly sweet. You admired his knowledge and patience, and the two of you often shared harmless banter.

Hiccup had come looking for you.

He paused in the doorway, hearing your laughter echo against the stone walls.

His eyes narrowed. Not in anger—yet—but in something like confusion. Curiosity. A tightness in his chest he couldn’t quite name.

You turned and waved. “Hey, Hiccup!”

He smiled back, but it was thinner than usual. Forced.

Fishlegs noticed it too. “We were just talking about Gronkles’ eating habits. Did you know they can digest rocks better than any other dragon?”

“I know,” Hiccup said. Then added, quickly, “Can I borrow you for a moment?”

You blinked. “Sure.”

He didn’t touch your arm, didn’t tug you away. But the look in his eyes was heavy. He didn’t glance at Fishlegs again.

Once you were out of the stables, you smiled up at him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, too fast. Then, “I just… missed you at the forge today.”

“I was helping Gothi gather herbs,” you explained. “She asked for help translating some old runes too.”

“I know,” he murmured, gaze flicking to the side. “I looked for you.”

The words settled between you.

“Oh,” you said softly.

He glanced at you, then quickly looked away. “It’s nothing. I just… I like it better when you’re around. That’s all.”

Your smile was warm. “I like being around you too.”

That should’ve reassured him.

It didn’t.

The next day, you mentioned you’d promised Astrid you’d help her sharpen weapons for the upcoming patrol.

Hiccup nodded. “Of course. That’s great.”

But he lingered longer at the forge that afternoon. Stared at the table even after you left. Toothless whined once and nudged his elbow, prompting him to snap out of it.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

But he wasn’t.

That evening, Astrid found him on the cliffs with Toothless. He was sketching furiously, wind tousling his hair, eyes red-rimmed from too many hours without rest.

“You okay?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just thinking,” he mumbled.

“About her?”

His pencil stilled.

“I’m not blind, Hiccup,” Astrid said softly.

He didn’t respond.

“She’s good for you. Just… don’t forget to breathe, alright?”

Hiccup smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Breathing’s never been the problem. It’s what happens when she’s not around that worries me.”

You were becoming his entire world.

And he would do anything to keep you in it.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

At first, Hiccup didn’t let himself think about it.

The possibility that you might one day leave Berk.

But it crept into his mind like a slow-growing rot—subtle, silent, until he could no longer ignore it.

You were a traveler. A wanderer. You didn’t belong to any clan or holdfast. You spoke of distant lands and strange creatures with a wistfulness that tugged at something deep inside him. At first, he’d loved that about you—how your voice lit up when you talked about your adventures, your eyes shining with memories he wasn’t part of.

But then he began to realize: you had a life before Berk. A whole world that didn’t include him.

And what if—after all this—you decided to return to it?

The thought made his stomach twist.

He tried to be logical. You liked it here. You were getting along well with the other villagers. The dragons adored you. And you spent more time with him than anyone else.

But logic didn’t quiet the ache in his chest.

It only made it worse.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

One evening, after the forge had grown quiet and the air outside was painted with the pale gold of sunset, you told him about a storm you once survived at sea.

“It was the worst weather I’d ever seen,” you said, legs curled beneath you on a bench near the fire. “I thought the boat would split in two. But the morning after, the sky was so clear. Like the storm had never even happened.”

Hiccup listened, jaw resting on his hand, eyes fixed on your lips.

You continued, “Part of me misses that—traveling, waking up in a new place each week. Seeing what’s out there. It’s… freeing.”

Something flickered in his expression. His fingers tensed against the edge of the table.

“You miss it?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded absently. “Sometimes. Not as much lately, though. Berk’s grown on me. People are kind. The dragons… well, you know.” You smiled.

He tried to smile back.

But the warmth had drained from his chest, replaced by a cold anxiety that gnawed at his ribs.

You weren’t from here.

And no matter how much he loved seeing you curled up by his forge, laughing with the dragons, brushing soot off your clothes with that little huff you always did—none of it guaranteed you’d stay.

He didn’t sleep well that night.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The next day, he was quieter. Focused—but not on his work. He kept glancing at you, watching the way you moved through the village, laughing with Astrid or feeding a Terrible Terror with one hand as you scribbled notes with the other.

He started imagining things.

You packing your bag.

You waving goodbye.

You boarding a ship that sailed over the horizon and never returned.

And it terrified him.

He’d lost things before. People. Places. The feeling of being understood.

He couldn’t lose you too.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

That evening, as the village lights dimmed and the dragons nestled into their nightly roosts, Hiccup approached you.

Toothless followed silently behind him, watchful.

“Hey,” Hiccup said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Do you have a moment?”

You looked up from the saddle you’d been adjusting. “Of course.”

He hesitated. Then motioned for you to walk with him.

The two of you wandered past the edge of the village, where the cliffs opened up to the sea and the wind tasted like salt. The sky was deep indigo, scattered with stars. Toothless walked a short distance behind, giving you space.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Hiccup said finally, eyes fixed on the waves below. “Do you… do you think you’ll stay in Berk?”

You blinked. “What?”

“I mean—eventually. Not now, not tomorrow. But long term. Do you think this place could be home?”

You studied him. “That’s a big question.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking. You’re not from here. And people who aren’t from here usually don’t stay. They see the dragons, they marvel at the village, and then they leave.”

You took a step closer, your voice softer. “I’m not planning to leave anytime soon.”

“But that’s not a no.”

He wasn’t accusing. Not quite. But his eyes searched yours like he was trying to read a decision you hadn’t made yet.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” you admitted. “I didn’t expect to come to Berk in the first place. But I’ve grown attached to this place. To the people. To you.”

His breath hitched.

“To me?”

You smiled. “Of course to you. You’ve been nothing but patient and generous. I feel safe with you.”

That should have reassured him.

But it only made him more afraid.

Because even love could be temporary.

Even warmth could fade.

And he didn’t want to live in a world where your voice was just a memory.

“I made something,” he said suddenly.

You looked up. “Oh?”

He reached into his vest and pulled out a pendant—smooth, dark metal shaped into the silhouette of a dragon wing, not unlike Toothless’s.

“It’s Gronkle Iron,” he said, voice hushed. “Lightweight. Stronger than normal iron. I carved the runes myself.”

He didn’t mention that some of those runes were ancient tracking sigils that he got from Gothi by bribing her with Gobber's famous yak noodle soup. It's for protective purposes, he’d tell himself. Not invasive. Not possessive.

He held it out to you. “I thought… maybe it could remind you of here. Of us. In case you ever…”

He trailed off.

You took it gently, touched by the gift. “It’s beautiful.”

He didn’t respond.

Just watched you slip the chain around your neck, the metal glinting faintly in the moonlight.

And in that moment, Hiccup made a quiet vow to himself.

If you ever tried to leave—if the winds of wanderlust called you away—he would find a way to bring you back.

Because you weren’t just someone passing through his life.

You were home.

And he would never let home slip through his fingers again.

#how to train your dragon #yandere #httyd #yandere hiccup #hiccup horrendous haddock lll #hiccup haddock #hiccup and toothless #httyd x reader #yandere httyd #yandere hiccup x reader #dark romance

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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months ago

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I love your Freelance Inventor Au so much! (And, like, all your other work,, lol) I can't help imagining Danny finding out about the Batfam and turning to Bruce like, "You let our kids be vigilantes?!" Meanwhile Bruce is stuck on the fact that Danny called them "Our" kids. Or the reveal the other way, with Bruce finding out about Phantom first? He'd freak out- clearly he doesn't know Danny as well as he thought he did. And he can't believe Danny never told him! Meanwhile, Danny thought he mentioned the Phantom thing ages ago and that Bruce just doesn't care.

Since Jazz put the idea in his head, Danny has been unable to think of anything else. The idea that he might be in love with Bruce Wayne and had been for so many years but didn't notice because he assumed everyone felt that it was for that one friend.

It was there whenever he was drafting new blueprints, when he traveled across the world looking for inspiration and investors, when he settled into bed for a good night's rest, and most of all, when he finished his weekly phone call with Bruce.

"Get some rest," Bruce's warm, smooth voice says over the speakers. "I'll talk to you soon. Goodnight, Danny."

"Goodnight," he responds softly. He has a request to stay on the line on the tip of his tongue, but with the time difference, he knows it's not a good idea. And have a good day, Bruce."

The call ended with a click, but he couldn't help but feel their goodbye needed something.

I love you.

That was it. That's what was missing. But did he dare? Could he? Was he confusing love for something it wasn't? Was Bruce even interested?

Danny places his phone on his chest, staring at the ceiling of the latest hotel he booked, wondering if Bruce is leaving for lunch with the kids. He said they were celebrating Tim's new clothesline and wished he was there to cheer the boy and his team on.

Danny is in Toykyo today, presenting his new hologram keyboards to a big company.

Of course, they were the second company allowed the selling rights. Wayne Tech was the first, and Danny kept the production and creation rights. It was one of Danny's most ingenious inventions, if he did say so himself, but the look on Bruce's face when he revealed it to him was far more exhilarating than creating the keyboard or gaining the fat paycheck.

Fenton's Ghost Touch was a set of two rings with a hologram keyboard inside. When someone needed to type, they would spin the rings and double-tab the inner lining, connecting to devices using the Bluetooth function.

A visible hologram would pop up underneath their fingers, or if they wanted (and were good enough typers), they could move their fingers in the air without it, which would still allow them to type.

Danny had chosen to release the line in black internationally with Toyko, but Wayne Tech would release an exclusive color line. The rings were of the same design, all using slick silver bands but with different colors as the activation inner rings and some elegant carvings, unlike the international releases, which were just one solid color.

Fenton's Ghost Touch would come in seven colors: blue, red, pink, green, purple, white, and yellow.

Danny had purposely designed them using each of the Wayne kids' favorite colors and sent them all a set with their corresponding colors. The morning they arrived, he got a picture of them showing off their new rings, smiling widely at the camera from Bruce.

He saved the photo as his laptop background. His phone background already had a picture of him and the Waynes at Thanksgiving. They had crowed around, holding their wreaths with Bruce and Danny in the center.

Danny had been facing the camera, beaming in pride at the kids' work. Bruce was half-turning, his gaze stuck on Danny's face with a strange, fond, soft smile, the kind he rarely saw Bruce give anyone else.

It made him hope. Oh, how he hoped, but it also scared him. What if this wasn't love? Danny has never been in love before, has never fallen to the urges that others describe, and had been so comfortable convincing his asexuality meant he would never have to be the kind of person staying up long into the night overthinking every interaction with another person.

Yet here he was, seeing Bruce in a whole new light and discovering how different everything was because of it. But at the same time, how nothing had changed. He spoke to Dani about this, but his clone-turned-sister had only shrugged.

"You raised kids with the man." She laughed. Dani wasn't like Danny, and although she was more informed than their parents, she had difficulty wrapping her head around not having those feelings. "I think it's past the point of having a crush on him. I think you should go for it. Make it official."

Danny reaches up, rubbing at his eyes. It was midnight, and he had a meeting with another with the Japanese board again at eight. He really needed to rest and be on top of his wits so that he and his lawyer could ensure the contact was in his best interest.

He clicks open his gallery on his phone instead of swiping through photos of Bruce and feeling his heart leap nearly out of his chest. He misses the man.

Since Jazz's conversation, Danny has been practically avoiding him. This is due to his being hyper-aware of himself and Bruce: the way Bruce laughed, the dip in his voice whenever the British accent he picked up from Alfred popped in, the slight facial expressions he made when confused about emotions, the shift from playful to professional in work settings, and most of all, the attention he always bestowed onto Danny.

How the world just seemed brighter whenever he was with the man.

Bruce was his sun, and Danny was nothing more than a flower seeking him out. It made the Halfa want to hide in a hole but dance around in public all at once, and he didn't know why.

He finds a video, tapping the play button before thinking further of it, and melts when the first sound he hears is Bruce's laughter. It's quickly followed by the loud noise of the Waynes' Children. It was taken at the last Wayne game night—at the time, Danny had been in England with Dani.

Tim recorded Damian standing proudly over a map covered in white trains, arms spread into a T position, and Duke screaming accusations of cheating. After Alfred banned Monopoly in the Manor, the game Ticket to Ride quickly took over as the new worst enemy creator.

Dick was in the background sobbing into his hands as Jason tried to confront him. Steph and Cass were each leaning on Bruce's two shoulders, laughing as hard as their father, and Alfred was out of frame but not out of hearing, so when he stated, "Master Dick, how could have gone in the wrong direction? It's the map of the USA, it hasn't change in years!"

"He has a concussion, Alfrie!" Jason protested hotly. "Leave him alone!"

"YOU CHEATED!" Duke raged as Damian continued his pose with the most serious expression he'd seen on the child. It made his heart swell to see Damian copying him.

Danny struck the same pose whenever he beat his sisters at a game, even at his advanced age. Once an annoying brother, always an annoying brother.

The video ends with Tim flipping the camera. His broad grin covered the whole screen as he shouted, "Love you, Dad! Miss you! Can't wait to see you!"

Danny turns to his side, feeling his heart flutter more as the word plays repeatedly in his head. A few years ago, the Wayne Kids—excluding Damian, who was polite to the point it hurt—switched from Danny to Dad when referring to him.

Bruce hadn't made a big deal about it even though they called him Dad. Would that mean the man was happy his kids saw him as a second father figure? Did it mean the man thought of him as....a husband?

Danny groans, burying his face into the cool sheets of his futon, begging his mind to stop for a few seconds so he can rest. After this deal goes through, Danny is going to face the music.

He would go to Gotham and figure out a way to tell Bruce how he felt. He just hopes he has it figured out by then. Danny has an idea, but explaining the mess in his head into words is going to be much harder than anything he's ever done.

Not to mention Phantom. That was a can of worms he hadn't ever touched in Wayne's presence. What was Bruce's stance on ghosts anyway?

Should he practice what he would say about the topic? Turning onto his back, Danny holds up his phone, clicking the screen so the lock screen image of a grinning Bruce appears.

It was from the surprise vacation Danny rented out the hut next to the ones the kids sent Bruce to. It had been taken at sunset, the soft orange and purples of the sky framing Bruce's grin and dancing on his wind-blown hair. It had been a spur-of-the-moment walk around the beach, but from Danny's perspective down below and Bruce climbing back up to his hunt, it had almost appeared like Bruce was descending from the heavens.

Danny had used every film skill he had ever heard Dani speak about to capture the beautiful sight.

It is the best picture he's ever taken.

"I love you," the words leave his mouth in surprise, even though he had meant to talk about ghosts. But when they are spoken, he ducks into ice water and realizes they are true.

He sits up, using both hands to hold the phone in front of him, hoping that somehow, in some unrealistic dream, the words will carry across the world, and Bruce will hear them. Maybe even feel them, too. "I love you, I think I do. Do you love me too?"

The screen goes dark, and Danny sighs. Ten years. Will he really risk ten years of friendship over these little feelings?

Yeah. He thinks he will.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Freelance Inventor #Part 8 #Danny comes to terms with his feelings #Fluff #Pinning #spirit halloween ship #The slow burn is picking up heat #Have some family moments

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docgold13 · 2 years ago

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Profiles in Villainy Redemption

Megamind

The flamboyant super villain Megamind and his arch-nemesis, the superhero Metro Man, were both aliens who were sent to Earth as infants before their planets were sucked into a black hole. Although both landed in Metro City at the same time, Metro Man was raised in a mansion, while Megamind was raised in a prison. Growing up, he came to the conclusion that his purpose is to be a super villain. And this quickly resulted in a longstanding rivalry between Megamind and the heroic Metro Man.

As an adult, Megamind, frequently and unsuccessfully battled Metro Man for control of the city. Megamind possesses a peerless intellect and created all manner of inventions that are equally ingenious as they are insidious. He is aided in this by his fish-like companion, Minion.

While Megamind constantly schemed to destroy Metroman and rule Metro City with an iron fist, he actually enjoyed the rivalry and did not truly wish to succeed. Indeed when he did apparently destroy Metro Man and succeeded in conquering the city, he is left bereft and pining for the good old days of the former status quo.

This led Megamind to make the foolish decision to create a new super heroic rival. He bestowed the powers of Metro Man into a goonish creep named Hal. Predictably, the plan went terribly awry as Hal became Titan, a rotten and depraved villain.

Megamind was forced to team up with intrepid reporter, Roxanne Ritchi, and the two were ultimately able to defeat Titan. Herein Megamind found that being a hero is just as rewarding as being a villain and he went on to become the beloved protector of Metro City.

Actor Will Ferrell provides the voice for Megamind with the villain-turned hero first appearing in the 2010 animated feature, Megamind.

#Profiles in Villainy #Megamind #Will Ferrell #cut-out #paper art #Villains!

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2b4st4r · 1 month ago

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Can you do Zoro x female reader where they are hit with a devil fruit power and are now brainwashed into believing that chopper is their child for a couple of weeks. Like actual blood child, as if they birthed and raised chopper themselves. Reader and Zoro already had feelings for each other, but havent confessed yet, and are now having to deal with this mess. Poor chopper having to deal with his "new parents" till this wears off, and the crew being hysterical about the whole situation.

Forced Family

Zoro x Reader

Words: 9,041

Warnings: Temporary Mind Alteration, Implied Non-Consensual Actions (due to mind alteration), emotional distress, and mild violence, and use of y/n, FEMALE READER.

Requests open

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The Thousand Sunny sailed under a sky painted with the vibrant hues of a new day, the salty spray of the Grand Line a familiar kiss on Y/n's face. As the Straw Hat Pirates' Quartermaster, their days were a symphony of organized chaos – ensuring supplies were stocked, negotiating with eccentric island merchants, and meticulously logging every berry spent and earned. Yet, their role extended beyond the ledger and the storeroom. As the Master-at-Arms, Y/n was responsible for the maintenance and readiness of all weapons on board, a task they approached with a quiet intensity that mirrored their own formidable skill.

Y/n’s relationship with each Straw Hat was a thread woven into the very fabric of the crew. With Luffy, it was an easy camaraderie built on shared dreams and an understanding of boundless freedom. They often found themselves laughing at the captain's antics, a quiet smile playing on their lips as they watched him chase a new adventure. Nami and Y/n shared a pragmatic bond, often poring over charts and supply lists, their shared sense of responsibility a grounding force amidst the crew's eccentricities. Y/n admired Nami's unwavering determination and sharp wit, and Nami respected Y/n's meticulous nature and unwavering loyalty.

Usopp often sought Y/n out for advice on new weapon designs or to boast about his latest invention, finding an appreciative and discerning ear in the Master-at-Arms. Y/n, in turn, found Usopp's boundless creativity and occasional bursts of unexpected courage endearing. Sanji always ensured Y/n had a steaming mug of their favorite tea during late-night inventory checks, his chivalry extending to a respectful acknowledgment of their tireless work. Their banter was light and frequent, Sanji's flamboyant compliments met with Y/n's dry wit.

Chopper would often bring Y/n newly gathered medicinal herbs, a silent offering of his care, and Y/n would always make time to listen to his latest medical discoveries. Y/n's calm demeanor was a comfort to the easily flustered doctor. Robin and Y/n shared a quiet understanding, often found reading in comfortable silence on the deck, a shared appreciation for knowledge and history binding them. Their conversations were often profound, delving into topics that went beyond the immediate adventures.

Franky and Y/n frequently collaborated on ship upgrades and weapon enhancements, their combined mechanical prowess leading to some of the Sunny's most ingenious features. Y/n appreciated Franky's unbridled enthusiasm and innovative spirit, while Franky admired Y/n's precision and attention to detail. Brook would serenade Y/n with a melancholic tune, often leading to a shared moment of reflection or a burst of laughter at his skull jokes. Y/n enjoyed Brook's unique perspective and his unwavering spirit. Jinbei, the newest addition, found a reliable and steadfast presence in Y/n, often exchanging quiet observations about the sea and the crew. Y/n respected Jinbei's wisdom and strength, and Jinbei recognized Y/n's quiet resolve.

But it was with Roronoa Zoro that Y/n's connection hummed with an unspoken electricity. Their interactions were often clipped, a language of nods and shared glances, yet each held a depth of unspoken understanding. They sparred together with a brutal honesty, the clang of steel on steel a familiar rhythm that resonated deep within them. During these training sessions, their eyes would meet across crossed blades, a spark igniting in the silent space between them. Y/n admired Zoro’s unwavering dedication to his dream, his formidable strength, and the surprising moments of genuine care he showed, often disguised beneath a gruff exterior. Zoro, in turn, was captivated by Y/n's quiet confidence, their sharp mind, and the fluid grace with which they moved, whether wielding a weapon or meticulously organizing supplies. A mutual, unspoken admiration simmered beneath the surface, a delicate tension that added an intriguing layer to their already intricate dance aboard the Thousand Sunny. Both were too stubborn, too focused, and perhaps, too afraid to acknowledge the blossoming feelings that pulsed beneath the surface, a silent promise hanging in the salty air of the Grand Line.

The anchor dropped with a familiar thud, signaling the Thousand Sunny's arrival at yet another uncharted island in the New World. This one felt… different. The air, though carrying the usual salty tang, held a stillness that was almost unsettling. From the deck, you could see a small, clustered town nestled amidst strangely twisted trees, and the few figures moving about had a languid, almost detached air about them.

"Something feels a bit strange about this place," Nami murmured, her brow furrowed as she scanned the island with her keen eyes. "Keep your guard up, everyone."

As Quartermaster, the need for resupply was always on your mind. "We're running low on a few key items," you announced, consulting your meticulously kept list. "I should head to town and see what they have." You were generally comfortable handling such tasks on your own, your skills with a blade more than sufficient to deter any opportunistic trouble. You were kind by nature, always willing to lend a hand or offer a comforting word, but you were also fiercely capable and self-reliant.

Nami, however, her observation skills honed by years navigating treacherous waters and even more treacherous people, didn't seem entirely comfortable with the idea of you going alone this time. "Y/n," she said, her gaze thoughtful, "this island… the people seem a little… off. Maybe it's just my nerves, but I'd feel better if Zoro went with you."

Zoro, who had been honing his swords nearby, his movements as precise and deadly as a striking viper, paused, his dark eye flicking towards you and then to Nami. He didn't comment, but you could sense a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

"It's alright, Nami, I can handle it," you started, not wanting to pull Zoro away from his training, especially since you knew how seriously he took it.

"Humph," Zoro finally grunted, sheathing Wado Ichimonji. "Doesn't matter to me. Lead the way, Quartermaster." There was a subtle shift in his stance, a readiness that spoke volumes despite his seemingly indifferent tone.

Nami sighed in relief. "Thanks, Zoro. Just… be careful, both of you. Something about this place gives me the creeps."

You met Zoro's gaze for a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. A small, almost imperceptible warmth spread through you at the thought of him accompanying you. It wasn’t just the added security; there was a quiet comfort in his presence, a feeling of unspoken understanding that always lingered between you.

"Alright," you said, a subtle nod to Nami. "Let's go see what this town has to offer." As you turned to head towards the shore, you could feel Zoro falling into step beside you, his large frame a reassuring presence at your side. The familiar weight of your own weapons at your hip felt a little less significant with him there, and as you both set off towards the peculiar little town, a strange mix of anticipation and unease settled over you. You couldn't shake the feeling that this seemingly simple resupply trip might turn out to be anything but.

The path from the shore to the town was overgrown with thick, unfamiliar foliage, some plants sporting vibrant, almost unnaturally bright blossoms, while others were a dull, sickly green. The air grew heavier with a strange, sweet scent the further you walked, a fragrance that was both alluring and vaguely unsettling.

"You smell that?" you asked, turning your head slightly to Zoro. Your voice was low, a natural caution in your tone.

He grunted in response, his hand already resting on the hilt of his Wado Ichimonji, his single eye scanning the surroundings with a familiar intensity. "Something's off," he echoed Nami's earlier sentiment, his voice a low rumble. "Smells like… too much. Like it's trying to cover something up."

You nodded, a shiver tracing its way down your spine despite the warm, humid air. "My thoughts exactly." You picked up your pace slightly, eager to get to the town and finish your business.

As you walked, the silence between you was punctuated only by the rustling of leaves and the distant, indistinct sounds from the town. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, not with Zoro. With him, there was a shared understanding, a sense of quiet companionship that transcended the need for words. Still, the underlying tension of your unspoken feelings thrummed beneath the surface, a constant, subtle hum in the air around you.

Suddenly, a small, dark shadow darted across the path ahead. Your hand instinctively went to the hilt of your own blade, but Zoro was quicker, his sword half-drawn before the shadow even registered. It was just a small, scurrying creature, resembling a large, dark rodent.

"Relax," he muttered, though his eye remained sharp. He re-sheathed his sword with a soft click.

"Just a little jumpy, I suppose," you admitted, offering a small, sheepish smile. You dropped your hand from your weapon. "Nami's warning got to me."

Zoro let out a low "Hmph," a sound that could mean anything from agreement to amusement. He didn't look at you, but you felt his presence, a solid, reassuring anchor beside you. The air around him always felt… steady. Strong. It was a feeling you found yourself increasingly drawn to.

As you neared the town, the strange quiet deepened. The small, wooden buildings looked like they'd been built haphazardly, leaning at odd angles. The few villagers you saw were indeed "off," as Nami had put it. They moved slowly, their eyes vacant, and they didn't seem to acknowledge your presence, even when you passed directly by them. They were like puppets on slack strings.

"This is really strange," you whispered, pulling your list from your pocket but feeling less and less inclined to actually shop. You glanced at Zoro, and for the first time, his gaze met yours directly. There was a rare intensity in his eye, a hint of concern that was rarely visible.

"Stay close," he said, his voice softer than usual, barely a whisper. His hand, subtly, moved closer to yours, almost brushing your fingers as you walked. The unspoken current between you flared, a brief, hot pulse. You quickly looked away, your cheeks warming, but you didn't move your hand. The almost-touch was a tantalizing, frustrating, beautiful thing.

You continued through the deserted-feeling streets, the tension between you and the unnerving atmosphere of the town building with every step. You needed to get those supplies, but something here felt deeply, fundamentally wrong. And with Zoro by your side, the air was thick with more than just the sweet, cloying scent of strange flowers. It was thick with unspoken words, with a silent yearning that neither of you dared to name.

You and Zoro pressed on, the unsettling quiet of the town amplifying with every step. The main street, which should have been bustling with activity, was eerily still. Shop doors hung ajar, revealing interiors that appeared perfectly preserved – baskets overflowing with vibrant fruits, shelves stacked with colorful fabrics, tools glinting in the dim light. But there was no one. Not a single soul.

"Hello?" you called out, your voice echoing strangely in the deserted space. You felt a prickle of unease at the lack of response. "Is anyone here? Shopkeeper?"

Zoro, ever pragmatic, strode directly into what looked like a small grocer's. You followed, your eyes scanning the shelves for the items on your list. A display of bright red apples caught your eye. They looked perfectly ripe, glistening under a shaft of sunlight that somehow seemed too artificial.

"Seems like everyone just… vanished," you murmured, reaching for an apple. You pulled your hand back just before touching it, a strange intuition stopping you.

Zoro, meanwhile, had been peering intently at a stack of what looked like freshly baked bread. "This is a waste of time," he grumbled, his voice cutting through the silence. He picked up a loaf. "Just take what we need. They're clearly not here to sell it."

"Zoro, no!" you protested immediately, your quartermaster's ethics kicking in. "We can't just steal from them, even if they're not around. That's not how we operate." You might be pirates, but you had your own code, and wanton thievery wasn't part of it, especially when no direct threat was present.

He sighed, dropping the bread with a soft thud that seemed overly loud in the quiet shop. "Fine. But we're not waiting around forever. This place feels wrong."

You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the vibrant apples. The silence stretched, the air growing heavier, almost suffocating. Something compelled you to try, just to confirm. With a deep breath, you reached out and firmly grasped for one of the red fruits.

Your fingers passed right through it.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. No resistance, no tangible form – just air where the apple should have been. You looked around, your heart beginning to pound. The vibrant colors of the fruits, the intricate patterns on the fabrics, the solid-looking walls of the shop – they all seemed to shimmer, ever so slightly.

"Zoro," you breathed, the word barely a whisper, your voice laced with sudden urgency. You grabbed his arm, your grip tight. "Zoro, it's an illusion! This whole place… it's not real!"

As if on cue, the world around you began to waver. The edges of the shop, the shelves, the apples, even the street outside, started to blur and distort, like a painting melting in the rain. The vibrant hues faded, replaced by ghostly, translucent outlines. The sweet, cloying scent vanished, replaced by the faint, familiar smell of the sea.

The unsettling quiet of the town morphed into a chilling, echoing silence as the illusion peeled away. You could feel Zoro's muscles tense under your hand, his single eye now wide with realization as the fabricated reality dissolved around you. The seemingly solid world was dissolving, revealing whatever lay beneath.

You looked around frantically, the dissolving town a swirling vortex of shimmering light and fading colors. Panic clawed at your throat. The perfectly arranged shops, the cobblestone streets, the peculiar villagers – all of it was dissolving into thin air, replaced by what appeared to be a vast, oppressive darkness.

Then you saw it – a flicker of movement, a deeper shade of black against the already encroaching gloom. A shadow.

A sharp pinch on your hand ripped a gasp from your lips. You looked down, your eyes wide with confusion, and saw nothing. No bite, no sting, no mark. Yet, an immediate wave of nausea washed over you. The world tilted, the faint outlines of the illusionary town spinning around you. You felt lightheaded, the ground swaying beneath your feet.

"Zo... Zoro..." you mumbled, your voice thin and reedy, your gaze fixed on your hand as if it held the answer to this sudden, crushing weakness.

Zoro’s worry was immediate, a tangible force that cut through the lingering traces of the illusion. His usual stoicism shattered, replaced by an raw, urgent concern that painted itself across his face. His hand instinctively shot out, steadying you as you swayed. "You're okay, you are okay," he said, his voice a low, rough rumble, far softer than you’d ever heard it. He didn’t seem to be talking to you as much as trying to convince himself, his grip tightening around your arm.

Your knees buckled. You went limp, your vision tunneling. Zoro moved instantly, catching you before you could hit the ground, gathering you into his arms. The scent of salt and steel, uniquely his, filled your senses even as darkness threatened to consume you. He knew he should let you go, knew he should be drawing his swords, ready to confront whatever unseen assailant had struck you. But he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to just drop you. His resolve to fight warred with an overwhelming need to protect you, to ensure your safety above all else.

Just gently, he told himself, just put her down gently.

He lowered you carefully to the ground, his touch surprisingly tender despite the urgency of the moment. Your head rested on the strangely coarse earth beneath the dissolving illusion, your eyes fluttering closed. He straightened, his body instantly coiled, ready for battle, his hand already on the h hilt of Wado Ichimonji.

That's when he felt it. A sharp prick on his neck, mirroring the sensation you'd described on your hand. His fingers instinctively shot to the spot, but there was nothing there. Just a sudden, searing pain that quickly gave way to the same sickening lightheadedness that had stolen your strength. His vision blurred, the last vestiges of the illusionary town fading into an oppressive blackness.

Zoro felt the world tilt, the oppressive darkness pressing in on him. His muscles, usually steel-hard and responsive, began to go limp, betraying him. His vision blurred, the last flickers of the dissolving illusion replaced by swirling shadows. Panic, cold and sharp, cut through the haze of confusion. Protect her. The thought roared through his mind, a primal command overriding the sudden weakness.

With a monumental effort, he managed to pull Wado Ichimonji from its sheath, the familiar weight of the sword a faint comfort in his failing grasp. He tried to take a fighting stance, to brace himself against the unseen assailant, but his limbs felt heavy, distant. Numbness crept insidiously from his neck, spreading rapidly through his arms and legs. He swayed, his formidable balance deserting him. The ground, which had been solid just moments before, seemed to lurch beneath his feet.

He staggered, his resolve to fight warring with the relentless advance of the unknown poison. His grip on his sword loosened, his arm trembling uncontrollably. Every instinct screamed at him to stay upright, to defend Y/n, but his body was failing him. The darkness swelled, threatening to consume him entirely, and with a final, desperate lurch, he lost his footing. He collapsed, Wado Ichimonji clattering uselessly beside him as the blackness swallowed him whole.

A dull ache throbbed behind your eyes, a constant drumbeat against a canvas of unfamiliarity. Your eyelids felt dry, glued shut, but with a monumental effort, you forced them open. Your body was a symphony of soreness, every muscle protesting, every joint screaming in protest. You blinked, attempting to clear the haze from your vision, and as your surroundings slowly came into focus, a wave of confusion washed over you.

This wasn't the strange, fading town. This was the infirmary aboard the Thousand Sunny. The familiar scent of antiseptics and Chopper's unique medicinal herbs filled the air. But something was profoundly, terrifyingly wrong. A hollow ache bloomed in your chest, a feeling of searching for something, someone, vital. Where was Zoro? Was he okay?

You tried to sit up, a sharp wince escaping your lips as pain lanced through your side. Your limbs felt heavy, sluggish, but the desperate need to find Zoro spurred you on.

"Y/n! Please sit down! You'll just injure yourself more!"

The familiar, small voice cut through your muddled thoughts. Your eyes, still swimming with concern, met those of Chopper. He was standing by your bunk, his little hooves fidgeting with a clipboard, his face etched with worry. But as your gaze locked with his, the world shifted. The lingering confusion solidified into something else, something intensely, unequivocally real.

"My child," you whispered, the words escaping your lips before you could even process them. A profound, overwhelming love flooded your heart, a fierce protective instinct unlike anything you'd ever known. You reached out a trembling hand, a deep, maternal yearning gripping you. "Are you alright, my little one? Are you hurt?" The notion that this small, adorable reindeer was anything but your flesh and blood, your very own child, simply didn't exist in your mind.

The memory of a strong, steadfast presence, of calloused hands and a comforting scent, flickered through your altered mind. "And… your father?" you continued, your voice laced with fresh worry. "Is your father well? Where is he?" You were certain, with every fiber of your being, that Roronoa Zoro was not just your crewmate, but your devoted husband, the other half of your family. The concern for him was a desperate, agonizing knot in your stomach.

Chopper stood frozen, his little hooves gripping the clipboard so tightly his knuckles turned white. His wide, innocent eyes blinked rapidly as you, Y/n, a fierce and capable pirate, reached out and gently cupped his furry cheek. Your touch, usually firm and reassuring, was now impossibly tender, filled with an emotion that utterly bewildered him.

"There, there, my precious one," you murmured, your thumb stroking his fur. "It's alright. Mama's here."

Chopper’s jaw dropped. Mama? His brain, usually a whirlwind of medical knowledge and panicky deductions, seized up entirely. He was a reindeer! A doctor! He was definitely not a "child," especially not your child. And "Mama"? That wasn't even… He felt a flush of heat rise to his face, a mix of profound confusion and genuine fear.

Then, you leaned in, pressing a soft, maternal kiss to his forehead.

GASP!

Chopper literally levitated a few inches off the ground in sheer, unadulterated shock. His fur bristled. This was beyond odd. This was beyond a concussion. His mind, scrambling for a diagnosis, whirred through every medical text he'd ever read. But no fever, no head trauma, no obvious injury could account for this.

A Devil Fruit! The thought hit him like a cannonball. It had to be! Some insidious power, something they'd encountered on that strange island, had twisted your mind. Or… or was it a severe case of amnesia coupled with a delusion? But the way you looked at him, with such overwhelming maternal affection, felt too real, too deep to be just a simple bump on the head. He frantically searched his memory for any information on mind-altering abilities, his tiny heart pounding in his chest. His beloved Y/n, his sensible, reliable Y/n, was calling him "my child" and looking at him like he was her son. It was terrifying, and he had absolutely no idea what to do.

"There, there, my precious one," you murmured, your thumb stroking his fur. "It's alright. Mama's here."

Then, you leaned in, pressing a soft, maternal kiss to his forehead.

GASP!

Just as Chopper was about to launch into a full-blown medical panic, the infirmary door creaked open. Zoro stumbled in, leaning heavily against the doorframe for support. His face was pale, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, and his movements were sluggish, like a marionette with tangled strings. But his eyes, though still a little glazed, immediately found you and Chopper.

The sight of you, your hand gently caressing Chopper's fur, ignited a familiar, fiercely protective instinct within him. The subtle influence of the unknown power had woven itself into the very fabric of his being, replacing logic with a profound, unshakeable conviction. This was his family. His wife. His child.

"Y/n," he rasped, his voice rough with lingering weakness but laced with an undeniable tenderness. He pushed off the doorframe, taking a shaky step towards you. "Are you alright? What happened?" His eyes, filled with a deep, loving concern, swept over you, searching for any sign of injury. He then looked at Chopper, a softer, almost proud glint in his gaze. "Is our son okay?"

Chopper, who had been on the verge of tears from confusion, froze again, his tiny jaw hanging open. "Our... son?" he squeaked, looking from you to Zoro and back again. The sheer, compounding absurdity of the situation sent his mind spiraling. Two of his most reliable crewmates, the toughest ones, were now completely convinced he was their child and they were married.

You, however, beamed at Zoro, a wave of relief washing over you at the sight of him. "Oh, Zoro! Thank goodness you're alright, my love," you said, your voice thick with emotion. You quickly tried to get up again, extending a hand towards him. "I was so worried about you, husband. I woke up here and you weren't with us. Our little one here," you gestured to Chopper with a loving glance, "was just telling me what happened."

Zoro’s eyes softened even further, a rare, gentle smile gracing his lips as he saw your outstretched hand. He stumbled the rest of the way, his large hand enveloping yours. "Never worry, Y/n. I'd always come back to you. And our son." He pulled you gently into a sitting embrace, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, a silent promise of protection in the gesture. He looked at Chopper again, a flicker of something akin to fatherly pride in his eye. "What exactly happened, Chopper? Are you both truly well?"

Chopper, trapped between two doting, completely deluded "parents," felt his fur stand on end. He was a doctor! He needed to figure this out! But how could he explain to his "Mama" and "Papa" that they were both victims of some bizarre, mind-altering attack? The air in the infirmary, usually a sanctuary of healing, now felt thick with a bizarre, familial delusion that only he seemed aware of.

As Zoro settled beside you, his arm a warm, solid weight around your waist, his gaze, usually so intense, softened to an almost unbearable tenderness. His eyes, in their altered reality, saw you not just as his crewmate, but as his beloved wife, the mother of his child. Leaning in, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It was a kiss born of a deep, comfortable familiarity, as if it were a daily ritual performed hundreds of times, a silent promise of enduring love.

When he pulled back, a rare, genuine smile stretched across his face – a smile that usually only made an appearance when he was fighting a truly challenging foe or indulging in a particularly good nap. He looked at Chopper, his smile widening. "You're a strong one, aren't you, little guy?" he rumbled, his voice laced with an affection that made Chopper's fur stand on end. "Just like your dad."

Chopper, his small brain reeling, felt a fresh wave of panic. He had to make them understand! "No! Zoro! Y/n!" he squeaked, jumping up and down on the bunk. "You're not my parents! And you're not married! We were attacked! Remember? On the island! Something happened to your minds!" He waved his little hooves frantically, trying to gesture towards the distant memory of the strange town.

Zoro let out a deep, chesty chuckle, the sound warm and full. You, still leaning into Zoro's side, laughed too, a light, melodic sound that filled the infirmary. "Oh, Chopper," you said, reaching out to gently pat his head, "what a funny joke! You always have the wildest imagination." You exchanged a fond look with Zoro. "He's always been a bit dramatic, hasn't he, love?"

Zoro nodded in agreement, his rare smile still firmly in place. He tightened his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him. The infirmary, meant to be a place of healing, was now transformed into a bizarre, heartwarming domestic scene, utterly oblivious to the true nature of their altered reality. Chopper, left staring at his "parents" nestled together, could only gape in dismay.

The rest of the day was a bizarre, bewildering spectacle for the Straw Hats, and a nightmare for poor Chopper. He spent most of his time trying to subtly avoid his two deluded "parents," hiding behind Franky's legs or attempting to blend in with a pile of spare cannonballs.

The full extent of the situation became undeniably clear at lunch. Chopper, still reeling from the morning's events, sat at the long table, glumly poking at his sandwich. "I hate the crust," he mumbled, pushing the offending edges away.

Across the table, your head snapped up. "Oh, my precious one," you cooed, instantly reaching for his plate. With deft movements, you quickly and carefully sliced off the crusts, just the way he preferred, your movements as natural as if you’d done it a thousand times. "There you go, sweetheart. Mama knows you don't like the crunchy bits."

Luffy, mid-chew on a massive bite of meat, paused, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Shishishi! Y/n, you're acting just like a mom!"

You smiled, a genuine, loving warmth in your eyes as you looked at Chopper. "Well, of course, Luffy. He is my baby, after all."

A collective gasp rippled through the table. Nami's jaw dropped, her eyes wide with shock. Usopp choked on his drink, nearly spraying Franky with cola. Robin, usually unflappable, raised a hand to her mouth, a rare flicker of surprise in her elegant features. Sanji spluttered, dropping the plate of food he was carrying, his usual suave demeanor completely shattered. "Y-Y/n-chan?! A mother?!"

Before anyone could fully process this bombshell, the mess hall door swung open. Zoro strode in, his lingering stiffness barely noticeable as his gaze immediately found you. Without a word, he walked directly to your side, leaned down, and pressed a deep, unhurried kiss to your lips.

The mess hall erupted.

Luffy burst into roaring laughter, slapping his knee. "SHISHISHISHI! ZORO'S A DAD! AND Y/N'S HIS WIFE! THAT'S HILARIOUS!"

Nami practically shot out of her seat. "WHAT?!" she shrieked, pointing an accusing finger. "Zoro! Y/n! What is going on?! You two have never even looked at each other like that!"

You, however, were completely unfazed, a soft smile on your face as you pulled back from the kiss. You leaned your head contentedly on Zoro's shoulder. "That's my husband," you stated simply, as if stating the most obvious fact in the world. "We've been together for years, haven't we, dear?"

Zoro grunted in agreement, a rare, fond light in his eye as he looked down at you. "Of course. And this noisy little one," he gestured to a horrified Chopper, who was now attempting to burrow under the table, "is ours."

Sanji, looking utterly devastated, dramatically clutched his chest. "IMPOSSIBLE! Y/N-CHAN, MY SWEET ANGEL, MARRIED TO THIS MARIMO?! AND A MOTHER?! MY DREAMS ARE CRUSHED!" He began spiraling into a maelstrom of despair and self-pity.

Usopp, still recovering from his cola incident, spluttered, "But... but how?! When?! We've been on this ship together for years! We would have known!"

Robin's eyes, though still surprised, took on a thoughtful glint. "This is certainly... unexpected. It would appear a powerful external force is at play."

Franky, ever the dramatic one, pounded the table. "SUPER! Our Quartermaster and Swordsman, secretly married with a SUPER doctor son! This is the most UNEXPECTED romance of the seas!"

Brook, ever polite, bowed his head. "Yohohoho! My deepest congratulations on your matrimonial bliss and your adorable child! Though, forgive me, my eyes are but sockets, so I had no idea of such a grand secret!"

Jinbei, ever the voice of calm reason, stroked his chin. "This is highly unusual. Y/n-san and Zoro-san are clearly under some kind of influence. Chopper-san, did you notice anything peculiar on the island before this began?"

Chopper, finally emerging from under the table, his face a mottled mix of red and blue, pointed a trembling hoof at you and Zoro. "They're not my parents! They're not married! Something from that island did this to them! They were stung by something!"

You and Zoro just smiled at him, a unified front of delusional parental affection. The rest of the Straw Hats exchanged worried glances. This was going to be a long day.

Days bled into a bewildering week, a constant, low hum of anxiety settling over the Thousand Sunny. The initial shock had worn off, replaced by a grim determination among the Straw Hats to find a cure. It wasn't just Chopper freaking out anymore; it was everyone. Sanji still occasionally keeled over dramatically, muttering about the sanctity of love, but even he, alongside Nami and Robin, worked tirelessly with Chopper to research every known Devil Fruit ability, every strange plant, every rumored curse of the New World. Luffy, while still finding the situation amusing, also worried, sensing the underlying wrongness. Even Jinbei, calm as ever, acknowledged the gravity of the situation, constantly looking for any subtle changes in the afflicted duo.

What truly unnerved them all was the chilling accuracy of Chopper's assessment: this wasn’t the natural progression of Y/n and Zoro’s unspoken feelings. This was a forced reality, a complete overwrite of their personalities. Their quiet, subtle affections had been replaced by a saccharine, domestic intensity that felt utterly alien. They still looked like Y/n and Zoro, but the essence of who they were, those distinct quirks and personal rhythms, felt stripped away, subsumed by this imposed familial role. And Chopper, the unwitting "son," was the primary victim of their relentless, if affectionate, parental delusion.

The little "parent things" were constant, a bizarre new routine for the crew.

One evening, Chopper, exhausted from another day of frantic research and dodging parental overtures, finally managed to sneak into the infirmary for some rest. He'd just pulled his blanket up to his chin when the door gently creaked open. It was Y/n, her eyes soft with a profound maternal love.

"My little one," she whispered, tiptoeing to his bunk. She carefully tucked the blanket tighter around him, smoothing it down with a tenderness that made Chopper's fur prickle. She then leaned down, humming a soft, unfamiliar lullaby, and gently brushed his forehead, a gesture of almost ethereal affection that made his stomach churn with discomfort. "Sleep well, my precious deer. Mama will watch over you."

Another time, during a particularly stormy night that had Usopp huddled in fear, Zoro, instead of his usual silent contemplation of the raging seas, found Chopper shivering under his blanket. "You're a strong boy, aren't you?" Zoro rumbled, his voice low and comforting, completely devoid of his usual gruffness. He sat on the edge of Chopper's bed, gently ruffling his fur with a large hand. "No need to be scared, son. Your father's here. Nothing's going to hurt you." He stayed there for a long time, a silent, unwavering presence, until the storm passed and Chopper, despite his internal turmoil, actually drifted off to sleep, feeling oddly safe.

Mealtimes, previously a chaotic free-for-all, now featured Y/n meticulously cutting Chopper's meat into bite-sized pieces and even, to Sanji's utter horror, attempting to spoon-feed him a few times. "You need your strength, my big boy," she'd insist, her voice laced with a warmth that was undeniably genuine, yet utterly misplaced.

Even during training, Zoro would often call out to Chopper, his voice booming with pride. "Look, Y/n! Our boy's got good reflexes! He'll be a fine fighter!" He'd then demonstrate a simplified sword movement, urging Chopper to mimic him, completely oblivious to the trauma he was inflicting on his "son."

The crew observed these moments with a mixture of heartbreak and desperation. They knew these actions, while outwardly loving, were not truly Y/n and Zoro's. They were manifestations of a cruel, forced illusion, turning two of their most formidable members into doting, oblivious parents, and their innocent doctor into the bewildered victim of their warped affection. The clock was ticking, and they knew they had to break this spell before their nakama were lost to them forever.

The breaking point arrived during one particularly surreal dinner. Zoro had just demonstrated how to properly polish a sword to a bewildered Chopper, referring to it as "something a son should learn from his father," while Y/n meticulously arranged Chopper's vegetables into a smiley face. The sight was too much.

"Alright! That's enough!" Luffy suddenly roared, slamming his fists on the table, his usual jovial expression replaced by a stern, determined frown. "This isn't fun anymore! Y/n and Zoro aren't acting like themselves! We're going back to that island! We're gonna find whoever did this and kick their butts!"

A wave of relief, potent and almost palpable, washed over the crew.

"It's about time, Luffy!" Nami exclaimed, her eyes blazing with resolve. "I've run every diagnostic, every environmental scan, cross-referenced every Devil Fruit, and nothing explains this! We need to find the source!"

"My dreams of chivalry are shattered, but my loyalty to my nakama is not!" Sanji declared, lighting a cigarette with a dramatic flourish. "I shall unleash the full force of my kicks on whoever dared to sully Y/n-chan's precious mind!"

Usopp, though visibly nervous, clutched his trusty slingshot. "Yeah! They messed with our friends! And our doctor! That's unforgivable!"

Robin's usually calm voice held a rare edge of intensity. "This 'Kokoromi no Mi,' as Chopper has tentatively identified it, is a truly insidious power. Its effects are deeply unsettling. We must locate its user."

Franky pounded his chest. "SUPER! Time to bring back our SUPER serious swordsman and our SUPER organized Quartermaster! No one messes with the Straw Hat family!"

Brook strummed a mournful chord on his violin. "My heart, though I have none, weeps for their altered state. We must restore their true selves! Yohohoho!"

Even Jinbei, who had maintained a stoic front, nodded gravely. "We cannot allow our nakama to remain under such a spell. This is a task that requires our full attention."

Zoro, his arm still around your waist, merely grunted, his gaze fixed on Chopper. "What are they talking about, Y/n? Are they going somewhere without us?"

You smiled sweetly. "Oh, dear. Perhaps they're just planning a little outing. But we have our little one to take care of."

Luffy, however, had already sprung to the deck. "Alright! Set sail for that weird island! We're gonna find out who did this and make them regret it!" He turned to Zoro and you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And Zoro, Y/n! When this is all over, we're gonna tell you all the funny stuff you did! Like how you two were kissing all over the place!"

You and Zoro exchanged a loving glance, completely oblivious to the crew's exasperation. "Kissing?" you murmured, a light blush dusting your cheeks. "But we do that all the time, don't we, husband?"

"Hmph. What's wrong with that?" Zoro added, completely missing the point.

The rest of the crew groaned, a unified wave of frustration washing over the deck. This was going to be a tough fight, not just against the Devil Fruit user, but against the sheer awkwardness of their friends' delusion.

Hours later, the Thousand Sunny once again dropped anchor off the strange, silent island. The twisted trees seemed to loom even more ominously in the twilight. The crew disembarked, their faces grim and determined. Luffy led the charge, his voice echoing through the eerie stillness. "Alright, you weirdo! Show yourself! We're here to get our friends back!" The hunt for the Kokoromi no Mi user had officially begun.

The Straw Hats fanned out, their usual boisterous energy replaced by a focused, almost grim determination. The island, which had seemed merely "off" before, now felt palpably sinister. The twisted trees clawed at the perpetually overcast sky, and the sickly sweet scent intensified, clinging to their clothes and hair.

Nami led the charge, her navigator's instincts honed by years of charting treacherous waters. She pulled out a small, intricate compass, its needle spinning wildly at first, then settling on a distinct, unsettling tremor. "The magnetic field is completely warped here," she murmured, her brow furrowed. "Whatever's causing this... it's radiating a powerful, unnatural energy."

Robin walked beside her, her usually serene expression thoughtful. She used her Devil Fruit ability, sprouting eyes and ears on the strange flora, extending their sensory reach far beyond their immediate vicinity. "The 'villagers' we saw earlier," she observed, her voice low, "they appear to be little more than echoes. Residual projections, perhaps. The true source of this illusion must be nearby, manipulating these phantoms."

Chopper, still reeling from his "parental" ordeal, pointed a trembling hoof. "That smell! It's stronger over there!" He had noticed the distinct, sickly sweet aroma was more concentrated near certain clusters of the gnarled trees.

Usopp, ever the sniper, climbed one of the taller, less stable-looking trees, his scope scanning the bizarre landscape. "I've got nothing! Just more weird plants and... wait! There's a clearing up ahead, deeper in the woods! And something's shimmering there!"

As they pushed through the dense undergrowth, the air grew thick and heavy, the sweet scent cloying, almost suffocating. The ground underfoot became strangely soft, spongy, as if they were walking on a rotten carpet of leaves.

Suddenly, Franky let out a shout. "SUPER! Look at this!" He pointed to a patch of ground where the strange, colorful flowers seemed to glow with an ethereal light. As he approached, the flowers seemed to shimmer, and for a fleeting moment, he saw faint, transparent images of the town's buildings flickering within their petals.

"It's a resonance," Robin deduced, her eyes narrowing. "These flowers... they are somehow amplifying and sustaining the illusion. The user must be at the epicenter of their concentration."

Following the increasingly strong scent and the subtle shimmering of the flora, they eventually stumbled into a circular clearing, strangely devoid of the gnarled trees. In the very center, seated cross-legged amidst a vibrant bed of the glowing flowers, was a thin, almost frail-looking man. His eyes were closed, his hands clasped, and a faint, almost invisible aura of shimmering light emanated from him, pulsing in time with the faint distortions in the air around him. The air here was so thick with the sweet scent it was almost difficult to breathe.

Luffy saw him, and his usual grin vanished, replaced by a dark, intense fury. The image of Zoro and Y/n, so utterly unlike themselves, flashed through his mind. His fists clenched, steam beginning to rise from his body.

"So you're the one," Luffy growled, his voice low and dangerous, "You'll pay for messing with my nakama!" Without another word, he lunged forward, stretching his arm back, ready to unleash a devastating Gum-Gum Pistol. The fight for Y/n and Zoro's true selves had finally begun.

Luffy's Gum-Gum Pistol shot forward like a compressed spring, aiming directly for the man's serene, unsuspecting face. But just before impact, the man's eyes snapped open, revealing pupils that seemed to swirl with iridescent colors. The air around him shimmered violently, and Luffy's fist passed through him as if he were made of smoke.

"An illusionary body!" Nami shouted, instantly grasping the situation. "He's projecting himself! The real one is somewhere else, maintaining the illusion!"

"Then we just have to hit everything!" Luffy declared, not missing a beat. His arms began to flail, a flurry of Gum-Gum Gatling punches raining down on the entire clearing. Each punch dissolved a part of the shimmering landscape, tearing away at the illusion, revealing glimpses of rougher, more mundane reality beneath.

Sanji, meanwhile, was already in motion. "Diable Jambe!" he roared, his leg igniting with flames. He launched himself into a searing kick, aiming not at the man's image, but at the very ground beneath the glowing flowers. His kick tore a fiery trench, disrupting the delicate network of roots and earth that seemed to anchor the illusion.

Robin's hands sprouted from the glowing flowers, from the bizarre, twisted trees, even from the man's illusory form itself, seeking a physical connection. "Dos Fleur!" she commanded, her eyes fixed on the man's true body which, she surmised, had to be tethered to the focal point of the illusion. Her hands probed through the shimmering air, feeling for any point of resistance, any solid form.

Usopp, perched on a higher branch, loaded a special Pop Green. "Sleep Star!" he yelled, firing a small, spherical projectile that exploded into a cloud of soporific pollen. The pollen, however, seemed to simply phase through the illusionary man, wavering and dissipating. "Damn it! He's not even real!"

"We need to disrupt the source directly!" Jinbei bellowed, his powerful fists slamming into the ground, sending shockwaves through the earth. He targeted the clusters of glowing flowers, recognizing them as key components of the man's power. "Ryugu Kawarajima Seiken!" His attacks sent plumes of dirt and pulverized plant matter into the air, each impact causing a visible ripple in the illusion.

As the Straw Hats unleashed their assault, the man's calm demeanor began to crack. His face contorted in a sneer, and the illusions around them became more aggressive, spectral figures rising from the dissolving trees, attempting to swipe at the crew. But the Straw Hats, focused and determined, ignored the phantoms, concentrating their attacks on the central figure and the glowing flora.

Suddenly, Robin's eyes widened. "Found you!" she exclaimed, her hands appearing on a tiny, almost imperceptible tremor in the air behind the illusory man. She had found the true, vulnerable body, hidden deep within the illusion's core. "Cien Fleur: Wing!" Hundreds of arms sprouted, forming massive, powerful wings that slammed down, shattering the last vestiges of the illusion.

The shimmering veil ripped apart, revealing the man's actual body, frail and shaking, hidden behind the dissolving mirage. He was small, cowering, and utterly exposed.

Luffy, his face still etched with anger, didn't hesitate. "Gum-Gum... RED HAWK!" His fist ignited with flames, a powerful, haki-infused blow that struck the man squarely in the chest. The man crumpled, unconscious, the glowing flowers around him instantly wilting, turning to ash. The air cleared, the sickly sweet scent dissipating, replaced by the natural smell of the island's damp earth and the distant sea. The illusion was completely, utterly broken.

Back on the Thousand Sunny, in the infirmary, Zoro and Y/n lay peacefully, their eyes closed. As the Devil Fruit user on the island fell, a violent shiver ran through both of them. The warmth that had enveloped their minds, the loving conviction of their marriage and parenthood, abruptly shattered. It was like waking from a vivid, beautiful dream into a stark, bewildering reality.

A gasp escaped your lips as your eyes snapped open. The familiar ceiling of the infirmary came into focus. A sharp, disorienting ache pounded behind your temples, and your body felt strangely heavy, intimately connected to something else. You tried to shift, but something held you fast.

You looked down, your eyes widening in shock. You were not alone. You were lying pressed against a broad, muscular chest, an arm thrown possessively over your waist. Your head was nestled in the crook of a strong shoulder, and your legs were tangled with another's.

Zoro.

His eyes, still a little unfocused, blinked open moments after yours. His breath hitched as he, too, realized the intimate proximity. His vision cleared, taking in the soft, dark hair against his cheek, the curve of a familiar waist against his side, the warmth of a body pressed against his own.

A rush of heat flooded your face. This wasn't the false warmth of an illusion; this was raw, undeniable embarrassment mixed with a dizzying current of something else, something thrilling and terrifying. You were in Zoro's arms, your bodies intimately connected, closer than you had ever been in waking reality.

He stirred, his arm tightening around you almost imperceptibly, his body stiffening with a mixture of confusion and dawning realization. His gaze met yours, wide with shock, a deep blush slowly creeping up his neck and dusting his ears. The unspoken tension that had always hummed between you now roared, a deafening silence filled with mutual, profound mortification. Neither of you moved, caught in the sudden, undeniable reality of your entangled forms, the remnants of a powerful illusion leaving behind a very real, very awkward truth.

A wave of disorienting clarity washed over you and Zoro, replacing the comforting delusion with a sudden, searing awareness of your intertwined limbs. The softness of the infirmary bed beneath you was undeniable, as was the unmistakable heat of Zoro's body pressed against yours. Your face burned, a deep crimson flush spreading across your cheeks.

"Wh-what the hell?" you stammered, trying to shift, but his arm, still possessively draped over your waist, held you firmly in place. Your mind raced, piecing together fragments of memory: the strange island, the illusion, the prick on your hand... and then, a horrifying, vivid recollection of calling Chopper "my child" and Zoro "my husband."

Zoro's single eye, wide with a mixture of shock and mortification, met yours. His usual stoic composure had completely evaporated. A deep blush, so rare it was almost unheard of, crept up his neck and stained his ears. "What in the…?" he grunted, his voice rougher than usual, betraying his utter bewilderment. He too, was clearly grappling with the sudden, jarring return of his true memories. The image of Y/n, his crewmate, his Quartermaster, his... you, calling him "my love" and then that kiss... it slammed into him with the force of a cannonball.

The awkward silence that followed was deafening, filled only by the rapid thumping of your hearts. The air crackled with a tension that was both mortifying and, inexplicably, electric. You were acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his skin, the scent of him – salt, steel, and something uniquely masculine – filling your nostrils.

"We… we were on the island," you managed, your voice barely a whisper, trying to make sense of the chaos. "And then… that man… the illusion. And then… this." You gestured vaguely between your tangled bodies, then to the infirmary around you. "Did... did they bring us back here?"

Zoro groaned, a deep, guttural sound of pure exasperation. He finally managed to pull his arm back, creating a sliver of space between your bodies, though the warmth where he'd been lingered tantalizingly. He ran a hand over his face, scrubbing away the last vestiges of confusion. "That damn Devil Fruit user," he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. "They hit us with something. That's why... that's why we were acting like that." He paused, a fresh wave of mortification washing over him as he recalled his own actions. "Calling Chopper our kid... and you..." He trailed off, unable to voice the word "wife."

You instinctively drew your knees up, covering yourself with the blanket, suddenly acutely aware of how disheveled you both must look. "And you! You were acting like... like you've been my husband for years!" You couldn't help but feel a flicker of indignation, despite the heat still flooding your cheeks. It wasn't fair that he was the only one allowed to be embarrassed.

He shot you a rare, exasperated look. "Don't look at me like that! You were calling me 'my love,' and 'husband'!" He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the green strands in frustration. "And that... that kiss... we've never..." He trailed off again, the unspoken truth hanging heavily in the air.

The memory of the kiss, though under the influence of the Devil Fruit, sent a fresh jolt through you. It had felt so natural, so right in that warped reality. And the way he had looked at you, with that deep, loving concern... a part of you, a very quiet, secret part, had actually liked it.

You both lay there for another long moment, the silence thick with the unspoken tension of your mutual feelings, now magnified by the bizarre circumstances. The illusion might have been broken, but it had stripped away the comfortable layers of unspoken understanding, leaving raw, exposed emotions.

Finally, with a frustrated sigh that seemed to echo the very depths of his embarrassment, Zoro groaned again. But this time, instead of pulling away, he shifted. He leaned back into you, his large frame settling comfortably against yours, his arm subtly sliding back around your waist, his hand coming to rest just above your hip. He lowered his head, nestling into the crook of your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your skin.

You stiffened, your breath catching in your throat. Every nerve ending screamed in awareness of his proximity, of the subtle weight of his head, the familiar scent of him now intoxicatingly close. For a split second, panic warred with an overwhelming wave of something else – a deep, almost primal comfort that settled over you. Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, you relaxed into his embrace. The awkwardness was still there, a buzzing undercurrent, but beneath it, a new, fragile warmth began to bloom. The illusion had been a lie, but the connection, the undeniable truth of your intertwined feelings, was very, very real.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #straw hat pirates #straw hats #straw hats x reader #angst ish #light angst #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro x reader #op zoro #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #reqs open

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shusha520 · 4 months ago

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SPRING DAWN AU

(maybe it's a little spoiler?)

"My king" 16+

"What's a Shihou?"

Macaque cooed softly. Mihou's claws gently stroked under the golden-fur monkey's chin, a sweet shiver went down his spine

"Or should I call you Sun Wukong, huh?" — Macaque whispered languidly in his ear.

Wukong's face fell in shock

"How are you?!"

" Oh, you don't even deny it, as usual?" - Macaque grinned, - "well, they don't call me the six-eared Macaque for nothing, silly."

Shihou Sun Wukong frowned, his whole body tensed, noticing this Macaque let out a soft laugh.

"Peaches, don't worry, I won't tell anyone, but to be honest, you're a disgusting actor. I still can't figure out how our friends didn't figure out who you are, although the idea of asking your general to adopt your appearance is quite ingenious, haha," Mac gently stroked Wukong's cheek.

" Wait! Did you find out even then!?"

"Well, not right away, but consider that that call was the starting point. And then... And then there were many other clues. Well, after comparing the facts, I decided that you are Sun Wukong, the monkey king, who is hiding it, and invented the name Shihou."

" I'm not..."

" Not what?" - ask Macaque

Shihou exhaled loudly - "The name Shihou, it's not made up.... It's... That's the name my foster mom gave me." - Wukong awkwardly rubbed his neck, looking away.

"Oh, oh, that's... that's.. . It's cute, really" - Macaque bent down to his ear again - "but now the question arises" - warm breath tickled Wukong's ear, he shuddered a little when Macaque gently ran his finger to his ear.

"How should I call you? M? Maybe... My king ~?"— The hand that had been resting on Shihou's chest slowly slid down. Wukong felt how Macaque's lips touching his ear, causing him to abruptly push the dark monkey away. His whole face was completely red. The golden eyes frantically darted from side to side

" Ah... uh... ah! What is it!?" — Shihou shouted sharply, pointing his finger somewhere to the side. Macaque turned irritably in the direction his friend was pointing, but there was nothing there. When he returned, the place where Shihou was standing was empty, but he noticed a cloud flying fast in the sky. What a cheap trick. The dark ape's pupils contracted into a snap. Are you avoiding my advances, Monkey King? The Macaque's lips stretched into a smug smile. Don't even think about running away from me, Shihou~

Soon his contract will be over, but Macaque decided not to wait and already start caring for him. Yes, they did agree that as long as the contract was valid, he and Shihou couldn't be more than friends, but... Shihou is so charming, the more Macaque got to know him, the more he wanted to appropriate him for himself.

And since Shihou, that is, the infamous Monkey King Sun Wukong, pretends to be a demon, then the courtship was demonic. Hmm, maybe he should mix courtship? Still, Wukong is considered a celestial monkey. In any case, Wukong clearly cares about him.

A soft warmth filled his chest as Macaque remembered all those awkward attempts by the Monkey king to hide his courtship under a friendly gesture. Oh, Warrior wouldn't even be surprised if Wukong wasn't aware of his actions. He's so cute. That he want to ruin him. Make him tremble with pleasure so that Wukong forgets all the words except his, Macaque, name, Macaque wonder how sweetly Shihou will moan under him?

Meanwhile, Sun Wukong, who has never had a relationship in his long immortal life, is dying of embarrassment on his cloud:

#lmk #shadowpeach #lmk macaque #lmk sun wukong #doodles #lmk liu er mihou #Lmk au #Lmk Spring dawn AU #What dangerous thoughts Mac has!#Wukong's first time encountering such flirtation(?)#Damn he wants so much kiss Mihou!!1

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elbiotipo · 6 months ago

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I also believe that in a "tech level" approach, though of course I dislike that term, trying to get blood out of the stone of pseudo-medieval settings just constrains you. There are plenty of very, very well researched guides to medieval life and technology, mostly about Europe but you will find them about the Islamic world, Eastern Asia, and so on...

but the thing is, even with well researched settings, even with very welcome switches to other historical inspirations, it's just done and tired. We are talking about fantasy, a genre that can encompass the entirety of human imagination, and people always go back to the same time period of 476-1453 like stuck in a time loop, it's maddening.

There is a lot to talk about this but let's focus on tech for a little. Do you know how ingenious bronze age technology was? Did you read about pre-columbian cities and engineering? What about something beyond the Middle Ages, the inventions of the Renaissance or Early Modernity? I think there has been quite a lot on fantasy with industrial technology but it often feels (especially in things like popular RPGs) that it's a couple of steampunk things stacked upon a medieval-inspired world. How about a world that just skips the medieval aesthetics and goes to an industrial revolution?

And since this is fantasy, you can mix and match technology and inventions. What's more, you can explore art styles and philosophies, that's more complex to reflect but very well worth it. There is simply no need to return again and again to the tired aesthetics, true, but you can also learn how technology shaped history and do something more creative about it that researching just the same time period over and over and over.

I think we're just done with castles and plate armor.

#cosas mias #biotipo worldbuilds #worldbuilding #fantasy #it's like when in my infamous potato posts I talk about coffee and such commodities in science fiction #but all the replies are about potatoes in medieval fantasy #don't you want to imagine how coffee production and trade works? be warned: it implies things outside medieval europe! scary!!!!!

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mallowsweetmiri · 11 months ago

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F.W. ~ Fred and George’s Room

Part 1 • Part 2

Summary: nothing beats a hot summers day hanging out at the burrow… except maybe a cold beer and two goofy gingers.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, alcohol

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Your POV

The summer was hot.

As July settled in, so did a resting heat. Even the walk to the lake seemed unbearable this week, so you settled in the house under Molly’s cooling charms and the occasional summer breeze. The younger of the lot were hunkered in the living room, playing chess in a competitive tournament. It was quite boring for those who got knocked out in the first round, so Fred and George dragged you up the winding staircase and into their bedroom. You were a little nervous going up to Fred’s room after everything that’s happened this summer, but you followed behind them anyway. You were never one to run away because of fear. The twins grinned at you as they pushed through the door. It had been only a year since you’d been in here, but the twins had managed to plaster most of their walls in posters. Their shelves were lined with all sorts of trinkets, and Fred’s cassette tape collection had doubled in size.

“Wow, where did you managed to get all of these?” You asked, plopping down on Fred’s mattress and touching the stack of tapes on his shelf. Fred came over and grabbed Nevermind off his shelf along with his Walkman.

“Been going to the muggle town a few miles away,” Fred popped the tape in with a grin. “Check this out.” He nodded to George who cast a nonverbal silencing charm on the room. Impressive. Fred muttered sonorus and placed his wand next to the headphones. The room filled with the sounds of Nirvana as Fred and George grinned at each other.

“You guys are geniuses! You have to bring it back to the dorm,” you beamed, jamming along to the rock music. Fred grabbed his guitar from the corner before plopping down beside you.

“Oh trust me, we’ll be bringing plenty back to Hogwarts,” Fred winked, earning a low chuckle from George.

“And don’t worry, Y/N. You’ll be the first to try our new creations,” George grinned evilly in your direction. You raised your brow as the twins began to laugh. You didn’t even want to know what they had in the works. It seemed like every year the twins came up with more ingenious inventions and charms. You looked around the room at the mix of muggle technology that had been enhanced by magic, like Fred’s guitar. You were continuously amazed by their talent, and couldn’t help but watch as Fred began to play Come As You Are. You watched his long fingers move across the fret. He’d gotten a lot better since the last time you heard him play. Of course it was hard to judge his playing technique when all you could focus on were his forearm muscles. You laid back on the bed with a sigh as you listened. You felt a breeze come in through the window as you played with the sheets on the bed. You figured that maybe Charlie’s room wasn’t the best in the house after all.

“You want a beer?” You heard George ask.

“Is it cold?” You sat up on the bed, earning a cheeky smile from the younger twin. He reached under his bed and pulled out a case of Carling.

“Why, of course. I would never offer you anything less,” he teased, pulling out a can and presenting it to you. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the cold can. Cooling charm.

“Thanks,” you said, cracking open the drink and humming in content. George gave one to Fred before cracking open his own and taking a long drink.

“Before you lot showed up here, all Fred did was play on that guitar,” George smacked his lips after his gulp of beer. Fred huffed out a laugh and shook his head.

“I’m actually making progress this year,” Fred stopped playing in favor of a drink, “thanks to all the music you recommended this past year.” He nudged you with a smile and kept playing. You blushed and drank, hoping the alcohol would soothe the constant buzz of embarrassment you felt around Fred these days.

“Well, it’s my job to educate the two of you on all of the wonders muggle London has to offer,” you sighed, leaning back on your hand. “We should totally visit my cousin this summer. Y’know, the one I was telling you about? I could take you out to a real muggle club.” George perked up at this.

“Yeah, we’re totally going,” George decided, raising his beer up to you, “cheers to your hot cousin.” He smirked and downed the rest of the beer, making you scoff.

“George!” You scolded, tossing a pillow his way, “You’ve never even seen my cousin.” You shook your head and downed the rest of you beer, crushing the can and tossing it in the bin.

“Well, I’ve seen you so I’m sure your cousin looks just fine,” George shrugged, reaching to grab more beers. You blushed and stifled a laugh as Fred looked up from his guitar with distaste.

“What?” George protested, “just cause you’re shagging her doesn’t mean I can’t state the obvious. She’s still just Y/N to me.” He tossed the pillow back at you, a laugh escaping your lips. For some reason, hearing George say it out loud made everything a little less awkward, and you were grateful that he didn’t care about you and Fred. Fred looked like he was going to reprimand George, but when he saw your blushing giggles his face softened into a smile. He put his guitar down as he grabbed the pillow off your lap.

“Alright, shut up mate,” he said, smacking George in the face with the pillow.

“Fred!” You laughed, moving to sit on your shins to watch the action. George stood up and hit Fred right back with his own pillow. They kept at it as Nirvana blared through the speakers. You sipped you beer through laughs before a pillow came dangerously close to your face. “Hey! Guys, watch the beer,” you pouted, holding your beer away from the twins.

“Oh, that’s my bad,” George said, reaching for your beer and placing it on the shelf before promptly smacking you with the pillow. Fred barked out a laugh as he attacked George.

“You’re not supposed to hit a lady!”

By now you had joined in on the fight, the three of you running around with feathers flying throughout the room. Your laughter echoed through Fred’s ears as he protected you from George’s attacks. He guessed it had always been like this, George teasing the two of you even before anything had happened. He’d called Fred out on his crush ages ago, even before Fred knew what it was.

February 1994

Merlin that dress is something else, Fred thought to himself as he watched you talk to Oliver Wood, captain of the Quidditch team. Gryffindor had just won a vital match against Ravenclaw, and Oliver was especially happy as it gave the team a chance at the cup. Everyone had been congratulating you tonight. Your flying was marginally better than most Hogwarts quidditch players, and a lot of people were speculating you would go pro after school. Fred knew you didn’t want to do that, but he let your fans whisper in awe about you. I mean, you were pretty amazing. Fred had never seen anyone play the way you did, not to mention you were one of the best witches in your year. Oliver sure seemed impressed with you.

“Oi, George. D’you reckon Wood’s getting a little too close to Y/N?” Fred nudged his twin and nodded his head towards you. George squinted at Wood before barking out a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe Y/N will finally get a proper boyfriend,” George nudged his brother back with his elbows, wiggling his brows comedically. Fred cringed, throwing back the rest of his drink.

“I suppose…” Fred trailed off, letting his gaze fall to the table as he pour himself another glass of fire whiskey. As soon as that was done his eyes snapped back up to you in that dark dress, with Oliver’s face painfully close to yours. “But with Oliver?! We’d be bad friends to let her suffer like that,” Fred continued on, staring at Wood with disdain. George clicked his tongue, causing Fred to snap out of his gaze.

“Freddie, it sounds like you just want her for yourself,” George said with a teasing half grin. Fred’s face of disdain turned to one of horror as he set his drink down and waved his hands in defense.

“No, no, no. Not like that. C’mon George, it’s Y/N,” Fred scoffed, “I just mean that Wood is the reigning Quidditch dictator on top of being an absolute slag.” George pursed his lips and nodded in agreement with a shrug.

“True enough. Well, should we save her from her torture?” George asked with a grin. Fred’s face changed to match.

“Cheers,” Fred grinned, flicking his wand and effectively shutting Oliver up with a lip lock jinx. They watched as you stifled a laugh before excusing yourself, leaving Oliver to struggle with reversing the jinx. You began to make your way towards the twins at the corner of the party.

“Took you guys long enough. I was waiting to be saved from that interrogation,” you chuckled, grabbing Fred’s drink out of his hand. “Can I have this?” Fred hummed with a nod, prompting you to throw back the drink in a gulp. George watched with amusement.

“You wanna go dance with Angelina?” George asked, shimmying his shoulders with an infectious smile. You giggled, hiccuping from the drinks.

“Hell yeah. Fred, can you make us drinks?” You turned to Fred with a dramatic pout and pleading eyes. He rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Run along, quidditch star. I’ll bring you your drinks,” Fred chuckled, watching as you said a thank you before running off towards Angelina in that short dress.

“You’re so down bad,” George laughed, shoving Fred before running off towards the girls. Fred shook his head as he made the drinks. What was George on about?

Present Day

Now, while Fred watched you jump and squeal as George chased you down with a pillow, he realized exactly what George was on about. You’d always been his best friend, and you’d always made him laugh in a way nobody else but George could. It also didn’t help that you were absolutely gorgeous. Somewhere along the line Fred had fallen completely in love with you, and now he was fighting for you, his pillow reigning down on George in all its blazing glory. You joined by his side to pelt George with attacks.

“Hey! This is totally not fair. Since when is this two against one?” George whined in between attacks. You just kept chuckling and destroying him with hits. You seemed to be enjoying your newfound advantage.

“I feel no pity for you, you took away my beer!” You laughed in your evil little laugh, taking another hit on his back.

“I call a truce!” George called, dropping his pillow and putting his hands up. You stopped your attack and stood there panting, waiting for any movement. “Let me just get your beer and we can put this behind us,” George reasoned, slowly moving towards the shelf with his hands up. Fred chuckled and dropped his pillow, moving to chug what was left of his can. Merlin, pillow fights sure took the wind out of you. George dropped to his knee and presented you with your half drunken can of Carling, “M’lady.”

“I suppose this will do,” you said, taking the can and bopping George on the top of his head. You fell back onto Fred’s bed with a laugh as you behind to chug your beer in deep gulps, attempting to cool yourself down. Fred sat down next to you, his hand resting on the bed behind your back.

“You guys reckon we should go to the treehouse tonight and play some more exploding snap and shots?” Fred asked, nodding up at George. The twins grinned at each other mischievously.

“Why yes, Freddie, I think that’s a fantastic idea,” George said pleasantly before falling back onto his own bed. The three of you raised you beers to the summer. This was going to be the best one yet.

—————————————————————————

Authors note:

Hope you guys enjoyed part 3 of my lil summertime Fred x reader series! I know this part is a bit shorter and mostly fluff, but I promise the next one’s going to be spicier hehe. But man, I love writing this series so much and appreciate any comments from my beloved readers xoxo

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