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vivwritesfics · 1 year ago

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All You Need is Love (and sleep)

Uni is hard. Lando and Oscar turning up on your doorstep makes things much better

Landoscar x reader

1.7K

Moving to London to study music was Y/N's dream. At eighteen years old, she got that chance. Y/N packed up her things and moved into halls. That was the beginning of the best time of her life.

Well, it was supposed to be. And the first year really was. She made good friends, learnt valuable life skills and showed what she could do in her studies.

Her second year was much the same. She had to deal with finding her own place to live and people to live with, had to deal with paying bills and keeping the house clean. It taught her how great and shitty living with other could be be, though.

Third year was a whole different barrel of fish. Y/N ended up living with many of the same people from the previous year, a group of girls. Even though they were shitty to her, there was politics involved.

Third year was filled with essays. Too many essays. Whenever Y/N got a spare moment she was locked in her room, completing her essays. Which meant she had to miss all of her boyfriends races from September onwards.

Lando and Oscar weren't happy about that one. They hardly got to see her when University started again. But they weren't mad about it, they understood. That didn't stop them from missing her terribly.

Being a university student meant that Y/N spent her nights awake, doing her work, and sleeping during class.

On this particular evening she was at her desk, working away. Her eyes were tired and an empty can of energy drink was beside her.

Down stairs, knuckles met plastic as somebody knocked on the front door. Y/N ignored it as she continued working. One of her friends lived downstairs and somebody was bound to be cooking in the kitchen. She'd let one of them answer it.

The knock came again.

Y/N pulled her headphones from one ear and listened.

Down the stairs, Melina, Y/N's housemate, pulled open the front door. "Can I help you?" She asked the two boys in the orange hats, her voice bored. She recognised Lando from the previous year, but the slightly taller boy was new to her.

"We're here for Y/N," Lando said as he looked into the house.

When she'd first moved in, Y/N had sent her address to the boys. Just in case they wanted to send her anything in the post. Lando and Oscar hadn't yet seen the place she now called him.

Melina left them standing in the doorway as she turned around and called for Y/N. "She'll be down in a minute," she said and pushed the door shut, with Lando and Oscar still outside.

Y/N came running down the stairs. "What is it?" She asked Melina as they passed each other in the hallway.

"Visitors," Melina replied and walked back into her bedroom.

Y/N looked towards the front door. Nothing, there was nobody in the entryway. She looked at the pebbled glasses in the front door, at the silhouettes of the boys outside. Through the glass they could just about see the orange at the top of their heads.

Y/N ran through the house, her sock covered feet sliding across the wood. Wasting no time, she pulled open the front door and threw herself at the boys. "Osc! Lan! What the fuck are you doing here?" She asked as they wrapped their arms around her.

"We're here for you, you muppet," Lando replied as he pulled away from them. Oscar held on for just a moment longer.

"Actually, we're here to take you to mine," Oscar continued. "Give you a break from studying."

That pulled a laugh from Y/N. "Good one, guys," she said and stepped back to let them into the house. "You know I don't have time to take a break, right?"

Lando pulled a face. "Sure you do. And, you don't have a choice."

Well, Y/N wasn't going to argue with that. "Let me get my things," she said and shut the door. When she ran up the stairs the boys followed behind, following her into her room.

Y/N's room was surprisingly clean. Especially for a university student. Instantly, Oscar knew what Y/N had done. She'd stress cleaned to procrastinate and then gotten herself more stressed about work by not doing it.

Her laptop was open on her desk and Lando grabbed it as he sat on her bed. "I don't get any of this," he said as he read through her work. When he got bored it, he started looked through her Chrome tabs. It wasn't malicious, Lando was simply nosy. "What's a Valkyrie challenge?" (my smj girlies get it)

"Don't worry about it, Lan," she said with a laugh as she packed her things into the bag.

But then she went to take the laptop from Lando and put it in her bag. "Oh no you don't," said Oscar as he grabbed the laptop from her hands. "Coming with us means no work, okay?"

"Oscar-"

"It's for one night. Please, for us."

Well, Y/N wasn't going to argue with that.

Swinging her bag over her back, she grabbed her keys and the three of them set off. Y/N locked her bedroom door behind her and led the boys down the stairs. She ushered them out of the front door and locked it behind them, not saying anything to her housemates.

Y/N climbed into the back of Oscars car with her things. Without her laptop there, without being able to do any uni work, she felt guilty. She should have been at home, working as hard as she could for that degree.

She was tired. So, so, tired. Y/N yawned as Oscar drove them through London, heading towards his apartment. Ever since he and Lando had decided to kidnap Y/N and take her back to his, he'd been buzzing, excited.

It had all been Lando's idea. Every time they got a text from Y/N, it was the same thing. 'uni work is kicking my ass' or something along those lines. It all meant the same thing. It all meant that Y/N needed a break.

When they got to Oscars apartment, Lando took Y/N's things from her and carried them inside. He slung her bag over his back and grabbed her hand as Oscar locked his car and led them inside.

Once they were inside of the apartment, Lando dropped Y/N's things in the bedroom. The bed wasn't quite wide enough for three, but they made it work. (It was a good thing winter was on it's way. Late at night they'd cuddle close but by the morning the blanket was on the floor).

"Right," Lando said as he threw himself onto the sofa, taking up all of the space. Grabbing the remote he turned on the television and began flicking through the channels.

Y/N settled herself down in the armchair, legs draped over the arm. She folded her arms over her chest and turned her head to the side to look at Lando.

"You could sit here, you know," he said, patting his legs. "Could come and lay on me."

"Then where would Oscar sit?"

"We can all squeeze on here together," Lando answered.

Oscar, who was currently sorting out snacks, let out a laugh. He walked in with a bowl full of popcorn and packets of other food, none of it healthy. "Or, you could go and get us all something to drink," he suggested and Lando jumped up.

As he walked past Y/N, Lando placed a kiss on the top of her head and disappeared into the kitchen.

He was in their for a while, going through Oscar's cupboards for his and Y/N's preferred cup (I don't trust anyone that doesn't have a favourite cup or mug - mine is shaped like a hippo). By the time Lando emerged with three drinks, Y/N was already asleep in the arm chair.

"Osc," he whispered to the Australian, who hadn't yet looked over.

When he did, Oscar let a smile pass over his face. "Should we move her to the bed? She'll get a bad back if she stay's there."

Oscar was the worrier in the relationship. Especially when it came to Y/N. Lando he had with him every weekend at least, Y/N he got to see rarely. So, when he was with her, he showed his love by worrying.

As carefully as he cold, Lando lifted Y/N from the sofa. She stirred slightly, but she didn't wake up. Oscar opened the bedroom door as Lando walked her in. Pulling back the covers, Lando laid her down. The boys carefully worked to get her changed into pyjamas. They wrapped her up in the blankets, kissed her head and waked out of the room, leaving her to rest.

***

When Y/N woke up, she was completely lost. She looked around the room, Oscar's room, and everything came back to her. Yawning, stretching, Y/N stood up. She looked at the pyjamas the boys had changed her into and walked out of the bedroom.

Lando and Oscar were sitting on the sofa, watching a movie when Y/N walked in. They were cuddled up, untouched snacks still in front of them.

They didn't notice her at first. It was only when Y/N laid herself on top of them that they finally looked away from the movie. "Hey, baby," said Lando, his arm wrapping around her and holding her close. "Good sleep?"

"The best," she replied and leaned forward to kiss him.

Oscar cleared his throat. "Alright, you big baby," Y/N muttered and leaned forward to kiss him too.

"I'm the baby? You just took a nap in the middle of the day!"

"Shut up, you love me."

"Yeah, I do."

And then Lando cleared his throat.

"Love you too!" They chorused.

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sublimeinal-messages · 5 months ago

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How great would it have been to have Lila and Diego’s marital problems actually be that they’re both tired of normal marital life, when both of them are secretly getting back into the superhero / assassin gig behind eachother’s backs?

Like, ok Diego can still has his infidelity suspicion plot, thinking lila is cheating on him with five (which is fake. Didn’t happen at all. We all agree right?) but it turns out that Lila and Five are actually meeting up to plot, talking about old commission stuff on the downlow. Diego sneaks out to find them having dinner and he’s heartbroken, but it’s actually them eating takeout over assassination plans with files all over the table detailing how to kill someone without a trace, with pictures of alleyway vantage points and sniper rifles.

I didn’t expect this to end up being A Whole Thing but I had to write it out. Full thing under the cut:

Meanwhile, Diego’s been lying to Lila about losing his job. He hasn’t shown up for work in weeks, and recently got fired. Levaing the family financially unstable. Diego’s still showing up to be a dad during his usual scheduled times, but he hasn’t been paid in a while and both parents seem to be pulled away in different directions. And now the kids have begun to notice. This comes to a peak when one of their kids spot someone in their house at night dressed in black, and they tell Lila later that they saw Batman. Obviously Lila sees right through this and confronts Diego, who confronts her right back over her infidelity. Lila laughs in his face, because he’d have to be insane to think she’s ever do that, and with Five?? The barely-legal teenager who killed her parents? Are you stupid?? (Stares directly at the camera). But Diego’s hurt. He can’t get a clear answer on what they’re doing because she doesn’t want to admit she’s tired of being a housewife and wants to kick ass again. All they can agree on is that this isn’t working anymore, neither of them are happy, and they just hurt each others feelings.

So this fight ends in Diego storming out. They’re on a break. Lila is heartbroken, the kids don’t know what’s going on, and Diego throws himself wholeheartedly into being a vigilante again. It’s shown he’s fighting some shady organization that seems to have far reaching ties—related to Reginald, Abigail, and their new reset empire. Lila doesn’t know what to do, she gets some in-laws to stay over and look after the kids as she goes out to look for him (to no avail) and it ends up being the day she and five planned on their big assassination happening. Lila caves and says to five he’s gotta do this himself because her family is falling apart. Five is annoyed and makes a quip about how this is why he never lets romantic attachments get in in the way of him doing a job (stares directly into camera).

So five takes his sniper rifle and goes to the location early, where he’s positioned to take out their mark. Lila is out looking for Diego, and Diego is kitted up, on his way to take out these shady people he’s been making a case on, and intends to stop what they’re doing before they do it.

Anyone pick up where this is going yet?

Diego shows up at the location—a shady laboratory owned in secret by Reginald Hargreeves. The place is familiar. Diego slips into an alleyway. but what’s this? We’ve seen It’s the exact same alleyway but from a different point of view! Five is perched on the roof with a sniper, looking down at him. He gets his quarry in his sights and takes one final, steadying breath. This mission is going exactly as planned. The idiot showed up right as predicted. He didn’t even come with backup this time. It’s a textbook fish in a barrel. It’s almost disappointing how this couldn’t be an easier kill. But maybe Five’s glory days are just behind him. He puts his finger on the trigger.

Cut to diego and Lila’s house. It’s dark inside. Gracie and the twins have been put to bed and the in-laws are tired and in the living room. A phone rings, and it’s Lila, calling to say she hasn’t found Diego and is hoping he came back, but it’s not the case. Lila says she’ll be back soon and the in-laws begin packing up to go home. Gracie stands in the hallway, overhearing. To her, her whole world is falling apart, and she runs back to the twin’s bedroom in tears. She can’t believe this is happening. The lights are turned off in the hallway and the house grows quiet. The front door opens and closes and it’s implied that the in-laws have just gone home. Mum will be back soon, but the twins won’t stop crying, so Gracie gets up to get them some milk and cookies to make them happy again. She steps out into the dark hallway

To see a man dressed like Batman, in full fight gear. And she looks up at him with hope in her eyes, saying “daddy?”

Only surprise! It’s not, and they grab her as she lets out a scream. We cut to Diego as he reaches to open the door at the end of the alley only to find it locked, and realize he’s been set up. He spins around only for a gunshot to sound, and it cuts to black.

Lila comes back to the house. Finds it trashed. Finds her Inlaws murdered in horrific fashion in the driveway. Gracie and the twins are gone. And the little domestic life she and Diego made destroyed as we cut back to Diego, bleeding out in the street from what looks like a fatal gunshot.

Then five comes down from his perch to confirm his kill, only to realize what he’s just done.

So there. Here’s a dramatic, non-cheating subplot that has a similar amount of stakes that we could’ve had with season 4. Maybe Lila and Five end up going on a crusade for everyone to get their powers back so they can bring Diego back from the dead. Maybe this is what leads them to the subway, to mess with the timeline again, because as commission agents they can’t let go of the idea that time can be fixed and it isn’t theirs to mess with anymore. Maybe this sends Lila over the edge, and when trapped in the subway with five—she tries to murder him instead!! After all, he’s not only killed her parents, he’s now killed her husband! Why not have five scramble to figure out a way back for all those years while running for his life? (While a scooby-doo like soundtrack plays and they get all turned around and confused). Maybe Diego isn’t actually dead in the end, and it’s all a bait and switch to fool Reginald, who was watching and lines the whole thing up to fuck with them. Taking the kids as a deterrent so they won’t dig any deeper. But maybe in the last second before five pulls the trigger five hesitates. Maybe he doesn’t have what it takes to murder anymore. He swore it off earlier—what glory is he really chasing anyway? Maybe he recognizes the gait of the person in the alley and makes a non-killing shot to just take them out. Maybe he saw ahead that this was a setup by Reginald and made an agreement with Diego and filled his vest full of blood packets. And he fully knows Lila and Diego are both doing secret little vigilante gigs behind each others backs but tells neither because he really doesn’t want to get in the way of some stuffy marital dispute. Nooooo thanks. He had enough of that when he and Delores were together and bickering constantly. Five just wants his family alive and happy in whatever timeline they end up. (Chokes the spirit of Steve Blackman just a little bit harder)

Anyway, everyone else thinks Diego is dead; and all get together again. Weddings and funerals uniting them once more, and each of them reveal how life didn’t turn out how they wanted on their own, and they get to bond and unite to track down Gracie and the twins. “One last time” they agree, to be heroes and finally do something right. To save some little kids. Members of their family! Innocent ones, who don’t deserve to be caught up in their mess. And it culminates in confronting Reginald once and for all and destroying the ill-gotten gains he warped the universe in his favor for. And Reginald’s gone the rest of them can finally have peace of mind. Maybe the timeline genuinely gets better now that one monocoled megalomaniacal maniac isn’t in the centre of the universe anymore. The very thing that doomed the timeline before. And now the umbrellas are able to disband and go on in their lives as normal people in a timeline that exists with no favouritism at all. It’s all just what they make of it

(and hey! Maybe Diego comes back out of hiding and saves the day! And he and Lila both confess they want to take more active roles outside of being parents. And their kids are wowed by the fact that their parents are both superheroes. And it’s cool and awesome and I don’t sob at a very tragic defeatist ending of all I hold dear).

I don’t know guys. There’s so many different ways the final season could’ve gone, but not in a million years would I have chosen to make it go the way it did. That’s a whole other post—but in the end, I just know I’ll be entertaining my own little ideas for what happens to these characters I’ve grown and loved, and keep them alive in my own heart and AU story ideas. Thats the true canon for me, and the rest is just… fuss and marigold dust

#tua #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #diego/lila #number five hargreeves #five hargreeves #tua s4 spoilers #tua season 4 #tua s4 #txt #when I say I’m in denial…….#I am happily wedded to my alternate universes #we’re married. with kids. that ain’t changing #(the kid is my fic The Power Of Love & Incredible Violence)

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ktsumu · 1 year ago

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THE CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS

pairing: childe / tartaglia x f!reader wc: 4.4k

choosing to love him is choosing endless bloodshed; all of it is yours.

(alternatively — the metamorphosis of a god through the eyes of his keeper.)

warnings: suggestive / mentions of sex, nudity, profanity, angst, mentions of murder / death, ambiguous ending i think, almost canon compliant

note: 4.4k words and i don't think even this has a plot. WHO CARES dedicated to @shoyostar bc i never stop talking and @crysugu :3 here he is!

Before he was ever Tartaglia, eleventh of the Harbingers, he was a timid child.

He feared the simple things — speaking to neighbours, strangers, the mailman. He never went to the market alone, not without his parents, not without his older brother to hold his hand. Neighbourhood boys called him names and you called him sweeter things, bringing him in for hot chocolate because of his red eyes, holding his frozen hands in a lukewarm basin.

Your town was on the coast but he rarely saw the water; he was afraid of drowning and even more afraid of sinking, even though you could see the ice was six inches thick through the sides of the fishing holes scattered everywhere. Not even the men would crack it, fathers that ate at the head of the table, yet he thought he’d be the one. Nor did he trust anyone to save him.

Childe was Ajax before he was anything for anyone else, his name from myth. Eagle. He was born a Greek tragedy; hero, for most.

He was fourteen when he disappeared. Your mother said he’d come back home, kids get mad. Your father said a bear got to him, a weak thing like that — your whole neighbourhood looked for him after he vanished.

He was gone three days in the woods but he told you he’d been gone for months. He was underground; you asked if it was Hell but he said it was much more. When he crawled back up to Morepesok, he was a different person.

He looked you in the eye and told you he was finally ready to fight.

You didn’t believe he was lost for three months until you watched him hold a sword.

By the barrels on the fishing dock, boys fought with wooden blades. Girls would watch and sit on box crates, swaddled up to their ears, cheering on whichever one they liked that week. They’d watch as they hit each other, splinters snagging on coats, knuckles gone white from the cold and how tight they held their handles.

When Childe stepped up for the first time, they snickered at him. The boy who ran away from home, coming to join the sword fights. It was a joke and they laughed.

(You saw something in his eyes that day and it scared you. There is nothing more terrifying than a child with bloodlust.)

He beat the kid so badly that they put thirty stitches in his forehead, and you were left to do patchwork on the bomb.

Cutting coloured wires, you dabbed Childe’s red cheek with a warm cloth, wringing it out in the bowl of water that separates the two of you. He was calmer then, in front of you. Not that he wasn’t before; it was less of not being calm and more of craving victory, more of a test of his newfound gift.

“I told you to stop,” you mumbled, “hitting him, I mean.”

“I stop, he starts. I won.”

“What did you win? Where's your prize?”

Childe looked at you dumb, with his dumb childish eyes that no longer held hate. Maybe it was somewhere, hidden, beneath the water you drown in, but instead the surface held a glare of wonder. He was Ajax again, always hopeful.

He hissed when you dabbed his skin with something other than water, something that stung. “I—”

“No one wins in war, Ajax,” you scolded. “You’ll see someday.”

“I won’t be in a war.”

You scoffed, your hand gripping his jaw when he tried to run away. “We’ll see.”

You’re seventeen when he stumbles inside your house, the wooden door cracking against the wall as he slumps to the floor.

Your feet are cold when you step away from the wood stove in your living room, dropping to your knees, holding his face in your hands that are always so much warmer than his. They cradle his flushed cheeks, sweat beading on his forehead; he’s gripping at a pulse in his ribs.

“I’m fine,” he assures you, before you start to cry, “just tired. I’m just tired.”

He eases the door shut, his head tilting back against the wall. His hand rests on your knee, squeezing it like he’s grounding himself, counting on the fabric of your pants to do it for him. You touch the icy veins that run over his knuckles and he comes back to life.

“What happened to you?” you rush, your family asleep down the hallway. You turn the dial on the oil lamp beside you, watching the fire reflecting off of his dirty cheeks.

He laughs, pulling your wrist off when you smack your hand over his mouth with a lousy ‘alright, alright’ and a glance towards your parents’ bedroom. “Me?” he coughs out.

“You should see the other two.”

(You don’t know what told you first, but you remember going cold.)

“What do you mean?” you whisper. You can’t stop whispering, you can’t stop shaking. “Ajax, what did you do?”

Childe’s smile tilts itself crooked. “I killed them,” he says.

His voice is so quiet it cracks under the pressure to not be heard.

(He’s smiling, but he’s crying. It doesn’t look like he means to. He doesn’t know he is.)

You want to run. You notice the smear of blood on his jaw again—is that even his? His hand still clutches your knee but you only now notice the red his palm stains it with, the red on the side of his torso. You want to run.

(You should run.)

You don’t run. Because it’s Ajax, and he’s tired of running tonight. Why would you?

“It’s okay,” you say with a nod and a shiver, like shutters in a hurricane. You’re both crying, and he’s against your chest, and he’s still so fucking cold that it’s migrating to you. “Stand up. Ajax, stand up—”

“I can’t,” “You can, you need to get in the bath.”

“I’ll wake your—“

“If you were ever worried about that, you wouldn’t have come here, so Ajax would you please—“

He breathes out, muffling his groans as he staggers to his feet. You’re not of much help but at least your hands, your shaking hands, are telling him you’re there. And that’s enough.

“I love it when you say that,” he grimaces, shuffling towards the hallway. “My name.”

Childe misses your eighteenth birthday by ten minutes.

You ate dinner with your family at your favourite pub, his siblings wrote you cards and pulled your ears, you tied your hair loose and flirted with the pretty guy who fed the boat lines. You don’t like him all that much, but he looks nothing like your neighbour and for you, that is a fine enough reason to talk.

Stones hit your window at ten past midnight, and Childe stands in the snowy alley outside of your bedroom. He wields another pebble and tilts his head.

Your window’s too old for you to ignore me.

You pull on your coat and boots, scarf too because he talks too much, and head outside into the night, creeping out the back door. You cross your arms, walking over to where he stands just outside of the lamplight.

“Hiding?” you ask, stopping in front of him.

Childe laughs like nothing’s wrong, digging through his back pocket with his gloved hand, handing you a box. “Happy birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday."

“Belated.”

You glance between his rosy cheeks and the box before you take it, looking towards the end of the alley to avoid his stare. Because guys like Childe don’t look away — you know better than to look back.

“Thank you,” you murmur, tucking your hands back into the warmth of your pockets.

Childe nods; you don’t open gifts in front of him, you know better than to do that, too. He knows better than to think you would.

You look at his hands, eyebrows furrowing. “Leather gloves?”

“So you noticed?”

“How? You couldn’t afford long johns last year.”

Childe grins. “I got a job.”

“At the tank house,” you say, crossing your arms. “Which, you had last year.”

The look in his eyes tells you he’s in deep — he doesn’t seem to care about it as much as you do. “I’m a Harbinger, now.”

“You—”

“I’m the youngest—” “You’re the dumbest,” you grit, sticking a finger in between his ribs. “You're eighteen — what kind of achievement is that?”

He takes a deep breath, his lungs pushing your finger back until it falls defeated. “I didn’t expect you to be happy, believe me.”

“Why,” you whisper, “would I ever be happy to watch you sell yourself to killers?”

“You know I’m no better,”

“Oh, Ajax, if you think that’s what I know then you’re more stupid than I thought.”

There’s no real reason to excuse the blood on his hands other than the fact that they’re so gentle when they hold yours.

There’s a voice down the alley and two drunk men in hats and coats wave your way. You grimace, but Childe waves back.

“This is why you’re outside. You don’t want them to know where you live.”

“Or where you live.”

You grit your teeth. “Yes, because it’s great that your allies are a threat your family.”

“You’re not my family,” he says, “that’d make things weird.”

Your eyes well and you swallow, looking back at the men who stare at both of you. They murmur amongst themselves and you try to ignore them, but it’s hard when Childe won’t look away.

A breeze of snow from the rooftops drifts over you, and you look at him one more time. The last, you try to pledge to yourself. “Don’t leave with them.”

“It’s too late now and you know it.”

“How the fuck would I know it?”

“Don’t cry,” he tells you, much softer now that he knows you didn’t realize it yet, “I’ll come home, I’m not gone forever. If anything, I’ll come back richer. No one will sleep cold.”

“You’ll come back to spoil your family with blood money?”

“I’d spoil you, too,” he adds, “but I know better than to try that.”

There is a heavy silence between the two of you. It isn’t the weight of his gold or the weight of him not coming home; it is the weight of lead, of gunpowder. The weight of the bullets that his two new friends that wait in the street have loaded.

Childe takes your arms, tugging your hands from your pockets, frowning at your white fingertips and cracking knuckles.

“Take these—”

“I don’t want your dirty paws,”

“Well, I don’t want your dry hands. And when I come home, I’ll need them.”

Childe drives the knife deeper, twists it through your chest, and slips off his gloves. He places them in your hands and just snickers when you pocket them. “No worries, I’ll just get a new pair.”

“Great.”

He nods, starting down the alley. He knows you well enough to understand that you don’t want to say goodbye, not when you know you’re saying goodbye to how things were before. Instead, he just calls over his shoulder.

“See you at Christmas?”

“Why even come back?”

“Right,” he chuckles. “I wanna see your gift next time, though.”

Then he leaves, and he doesn’t look at you again. You suppose he’s been trained to do that, but then again, you can’t remember a time where he has looked back at you, anyway. He’s never looked back at anyone before the end.

He comes home every Christmas, just like he promised.

Each time he does, he drags you out to a cabin outside of town, one so hidden in the woods that you almost thought he built it, and he fucks you like he missed you before he was gone. Not enough to leave the Fatui, but enough to come home once in a while. And once in a while is all you're gonna get, so you don't let it go.

He comes home, tells his family all about his life as a businessman, a toy salesman you once heard, and then sneaks you out so you can love him as loud as you want. Then, you eat the fish you bring, he tells you how much he missed the sturgeon in Morepesok, and he's gone before the sun comes up.

Childe lets you go with a tired breath, watching the fire beat against your glistening skin as you sit on the edge of the bed. The warmth of him courses through you like a river current and you fix your hair with weak hands, biting the tie that was around your wrist. “I feel your eyes, you’re not subtle.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” he says simply. “You’re beautiful. More beautiful now.”

“You said that last year.”

“Next year, too.”

You roll your eyes, back straightening when he looms behind you, his naked body against yours. His hand sneaks around your waist and his lips press against your shoulder blade, kissing until he gets to the juncture of your neck and collarbone.

“Ajax,”

“I know,” he says against your skin, “gotta eat.”

“You’d think they would feed you in the castle.”

“Hardly a castle, sweetheart."

“That belt says otherwise,” you mumble, standing, making him let go. You pick up your underwear from the floor, too hot to wear anything else. “It’s custom.”

He snorts, flopping back down on the bed. “Birthday gift.”

“From who?”

“Ooh, jealous?”

“Of someone who doesn’t know who you are? No.”

Childe hums a laugh, giving a look in agreement to the ceiling that you catch out of the corner of your eye. He rests a hand on his chest, watching you sweat in the heat of the fireplace, smiling at the life he has for the next four hours.

He clears his raspy throat. “You finally wore it. The gift.” He snickers, “I only waited two years.”

You look over your shoulder at him, pulling your cami over your head. “I wasn’t gonna let money rot.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“What?”

“The stone. Do you know what it is?”

You stare, face hot. You’re partially embarrassed to not know, never having left Snezhnaya and let alone your town, but you’re curious enough to shake your head. Childe smiles like he knows that you wish you knew enough to say yes.

(You hate that he’s travelled the world you used to tell him you dreamt about. The one you made him dream about, too.)

He scoots up to lean against the headboard, and you take the invitation to come back to the bed. You crawl onto the mattress again, sitting beside him as he moves the clasp of the necklace to the back of your neck, and the stone to the front.

“They call it Cor Lapis,” he says, “it’s in Liyue.”

“Oh.”

He lets go. “It’s not rare, but I like it.”

“You spend a lot of time in Liyue, it makes sense.”

“So you do read my letters,” he says with a grin, cocking his head and holding your hand. “What else do I say?”

“What about the necklace?”

“Huh?”

“If it’s not rare, why get a custom-made necklace?” you ask. “Expensive for such a simple stone.”

Childe’s eyes drop back down to the necklace, holding it out from your neck and in line with the light of the bedside table lamp. It glitters in his eyes and you’re sure it does in yours.

“Cor Lapis is dull,” he tells you. “It doesn’t actually glow until it’s cracked open.”

You look at the cut edges of the stone, framed in gold. It’s small, but it’s something that looks like Childe gave it to you. When your mother saw it, she said it was beautiful and asked when he was home last.

You focus on the fingers that hold it.

“I found it a lot like you,” he says, his voice lower, his eyes finally looking up to face you head-on. “Heart of gold.”

“I don’t need to be cracked open."

“You have been,” he corrects, “you are right now.”

He’s right. He’s so fucking right that it hurts your head to think about and hurts your chest to acknowledge.

Childe’s hand runs up and under your shirt, showing your skin. “And you’re glowing.”

You sit in the silence inside your open ribs and give him a small smile, standing up to shake his hand off of you.

“I’ll let you tell me that next winter, too.”

Next Christmas, you stay in bed. Childe cradles your necklace again but doesn’t tell you about Liyue because you don’t ask, too proud to ask twice.

Instead, you lay against his chest, littered with brand new scars you didn’t see last time. Some you watch, others you look away from because they run too deep for you to need to know how he got them. Year by year, you get more quiet.

Childe does, too. He hasn’t lost his boyish charm but it shares his body with something else now.

“Why don’t you come home before Christmas?” you ask. “Once, even. Teucer’s birthday?”

“It’s not that easy. If it was, I’d be there for every birthday. Yours, theirs.”

You purse your lips, rolling onto your back to stare aimlessly at the ceiling. “Right,” you whisper.

“Don’t do that,”

“Why do you say that like I’m fishing for empathy?” you ask casually, scoffing a laugh. “You used to have some, you know. Before you were a fucking hitman.”

“You have no problem fucking said hitman, so please, if you now raise any sudden changes of heart, I should probably know.”

You look at him coldly and he shakes his head. “It’s not like I want to hurt you.”

His arm gets heavier around you, weighing you down against his side. You fight it off when you sit up, turning to look down at him. Déjà vu washes over you both.

“Do you honestly think that I’m talking about me?” you say through laughs. “I’ve gotten used to your wounds, Ajax, it’s not about me.”

“I—”

“How about your family?” you say. It shakes the cabin walls, even though you weren’t loud at all. “You have younger siblings who idolize you and older ones who know better than what you tell them. Do you think they’re dumb?”

He stares at you. You ask, “You remember them, don’t you?”

“I remember my siblings, yes, thank you for aski—”

“Did you know Teucer made a sword?”

Childe’s next sentence fades into a sigh, and his lips purse as he shakes his head.

You cross your arms. “It looks just like yours.”

“Brotherly love, toys are harmless.”

“Who do you think will stitch his eyebrow? Or sneak him into the bathroom after he comes down from his first kill—”

“I never asked you to be my keeper,” Childe says, the grip on your hand tighter than it was before.

“And look how it turned out, anyway.”

Childe leans back against the bed frame and thin pillows he’s stacked up, looking anywhere but at you.

He’s older now and hardened into someone you can’t recognize, but he resembles a lot of the boy he was born as. He still doesn’t look you in the eye when he apologizes, not when he means it.

“Do you want me to leave?”

You stand, finding your clothes on the floor. You’re too hot, so you put on your underwear and shirt and leave it at that. “I brought fish. Rest while you can.”

It’s July, and Childe comes back to Morepesok in the middle of a blizzard.

Glasses rattle in behind the bar and you dry the ones from the sink, since the hot water ran out an hour ago. The pub’s empty but your shift still stands, even though no one dares to go outside when the storms are this bad, and it’s only you and a few stragglers left to pray the windows don’t shatter when the breeze hits you from the coast.

Every time you catch yourself in the counter’s reflection, you see your necklace, and you wonder what the beaches in Liyue are like. You can’t swim here without freezing to death and you can’t dream in relentless snow, so you let yourself think of him sometimes.

(Warm, swimming in streams. You wonder if he ever got over his fear of drowning when he realized he wouldn’t sink.)

Air whistles through old panels and teases the fire that burns in the seating area, and there’s a quiet hum of voices that dim the crackle of the logs you throw in every half-hour. A glass slides off the counter and breaks in the wind.

You gasp and jump, stepping back, stepping forward when you hit something — someone. You turn around and Childe stares back, snow on his eyelashes and his hair damp from hail and the sweat beneath his hat.

“Why are you here?”

“Oh, you’re so welcoming. Need help?”

You scoff, kneeling with a brush and pan, guiding the glass back into a pile. You don’t answer his question. “They don’t really mean it when they say 'Christmas in July,' you know.”

“You were the one who told me to visit more, right?”

You nod, standing again, dumping the glass into a bin. “Outside the bar, staff only."

Childe slowly raises his hands in surrender, stepping quietly out from the back and rounding to face you again. He leans on the freezing counters, looking around the room. “You work here?”

“A normal person job, yes.”

“So boring.”

“Why’d you come back?” you ask, going back to washing glasses. “When do you leave?”

Please, stay. Just for once, stay.

“Tomorrow.”

“Do they ever let you off your leash for more than a day? Or do you just hate snowstorms that much now?”

“They have gotten worse since I’ve been gone,”

“Or you’ve just been gone long enough to forget where you come from,” you suggest, glancing up at him again. “The Fatui do still operate here, right?”

“Lower your voice, eh?”

“Sorry. Forgot.”

Childe purses his lips, looking around again. He lowers his head. “The cabin’s open.”

“There’s no way we can make it through the trees blind.”

“I can get us there.”

“Do you remember you got lost in those woods once?”

He grins when you look up. “Well, you know you don’t learn without getting lost. I know them now.”

You crack a tiny smile back, one that probably gives him way too much hope. He watches you put glasses away, he relaxes when he sees the necklace you still wear; even if you started wearing it two years late.

You shake your head. “I’m not coming to the cabin.”

“Why’s that?”

“You should spend the day you have with your family.”

“You—”

“Don’t make things weird.”

The moment is bittersweet and Childe isn’t stupid enough to challenge it, so he just laughs. You try to but it comes out funny.

“So that’s it?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “It’s always been your decision, not mine.”

And nothing you have ever done has been anything I’ve wanted.

Childe nods, biting his cheek. He knows that people who live in the woods often die there, too. He never really made it out. “Show me out, then?”

You give in, walking him the short distance to the door. He rests with his hand on the knob, gently moving you away from the door so the breeze doesn’t freeze you in place. He tugs his hat on and notices the gloves he gave you years ago hang by your coat on the standing rack.

“When should I come back?”

He watches you breathe in, he watches you breathe out. “Come back when you’re coming home.”

Childe doesn’t try to reason or to ask what you mean, because he knows what you mean.

Don’t.

With a nod, he smiles. It shows with a weakness that no Harbinger should still have with them; you think this might be the death of it.

“I’ll see you around, then.” He opens the door.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Bye, Childe.”

The door shuts. You don’t hear the snow crunching beneath his feet until a few seconds later, and you keep your ear against the door until you don’t hear them anymore.

Before he was ever Tartaglia, Childe, eleventh of the Harbingers, his home was in the woods he got lost in. Not underground, but in a cabin, with strong windows and shutters the colour of your eyes.

It’s the second Christmas you haven’t seen Childe or the woods. You haven’t checked if he’s stayed there and the stories Teucer tells you are old, but there’s a chance he’s still burning a fire and laying in bed, glowing with heat.

Either Childe hasn’t come back, or he just hasn’t told you he has. Either way, you don't make an effort to know.

Somewhere in Liyue, there’s an ore mine with your name carved above the entrance. The men talk about you when they wheel out carts of jade and ore, wondering how you reached so far up to tell them you were there.

In Mondstadt, an outpost sings a folk tune about a girl who heals wounded soldiers.

In Inazuma, a village calls a seashell by your name. It started with the kids, who said a man from a different place told them all about it. An expert on it, they said. They haven’t called it anything else since.

In Sumeru, your laugh runs through the river.

In Natlan, a painting hangs in a bar of a woman dressed in fire, a ribbon on her wrist and her hair everywhere else. When asked, the artist says he was inspired by a man who spoke of a girl with a heart of gold.

In Fontaine, they serve grilled sturgeon, only cooked by wooden stove.

Childe sits down in a town in Snezhnaya, far away from Morepesok, and he sits in front of five kids who look just like the ones back home. Freezing, and curious.

He lets them fawn over his attire, bug him for all he’s worth while they’re tucked inside of a barn to avoid the cold. He answers every question about his job selling toys with enthusiasm and without guilt, promising to someday come back with some for them. Then, they ask him to tell them a story — one they haven’t heard before.

Somewhere in Snezhnaya, far away from Morepesok, a tale is told about a girl who travelled the world.

#this was so random #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe angst #childe x reader angst #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #kit writes

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normal-thoughts-official · 6 months ago

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In the remote recesses of the world, north even to the great Maghreb, live a people with a weird and offputting cousine.

The French, as they're called, partake in the consumption of unique, and oftentimes alarming, ingredients, such as snails, frogs, fish eggs, and, on occasion, juice made of rotten grapes.

The most surprising part of this appalling cultural norm is that it is not, as no doubt thought our readers, the result of famine or lack of resources. Although mainly known for their violent culture, in which it is widely accepted to burn other people's cars, (and, before modern civilization made its way to the region, even take off helpless people's heads with a giant cleaver called the guillotine), the French also have access to rich resources often not exploited by the modern world. One such place is the Landes forest, home to the adorable rabbit, which recently has become a choice of pet for those leaning towards the exotic.

No, the French don't eat such slimy, questionable items out of necessity; it is by choice. As appalling as it may sound, they actually consider the foods derived from such ingredients to be high cuisine, and dishes containing them can be particularly expensive in the small region's economy.

With the blessing of my editor, and the guarantee that a medical team specializing in gastroenterology would be at the ready in case of an emergency, I agreed to travel to the faraway region to sample some of the so-called "delicacies". They were prepared by real, native Frenchs, although inspected by a health expert to make sure the hygienization was adequate. I've always been an adventurous eater, but even I must admit that the prospect filled me with aprehension. Would I be able to stomach the foreign dishes without getting sick, or worse, offending our arson-happy hosts?

My anxieties were initially heightened by the conversation with the French who hosted me; as is typical in their culture, he was offputting and rude, often commenting on the mistakes I made on the weird, twisting tongue I was doing my best to emulate. Still, in the spirit of cultural acceptance and not getting my head cut off, I accepted his socially inapt behavior with grace.

I must admit that the rotten grapes were what I was most curious about. The juice derived from them, known as wine, is considered a delicacy, and there are hundreds of different types of it. In French culture, there are even people whose entire job is to appoint the correct choice of wine to go with any given food; such men and women are caled sommeliers and held in high regard by French society.

I quickly learned that the making of wine is something of an art to the native Frenchs. As my self-important host dizzied me with endless descriptions of different wine varieties, I realized I may have gotten too deep into the turbulent waters of the unique region's palate. Out of the exhausting and oftentimes confusing technical detail, however, I was able to extract an important piece of information: the extent of the rot is important in the making of wine.

That's right, dear reader: they actually prefer it when the grapes are more rotten! Spanning not only decades, but sometimes whole centuries, the French's grapes are left to rot in humid wooden barrels - a tradition that's been kept alive since the Middle Ages -, becoming thoroughly ruined so that their juice may be extracted for the making of wine. And the longer they have been left decomposing with their local fungus, the more valuable the juice is.

I was simply too curious to wait. And even more delighted to find out about yet another culinary tradition I didn't know about: the social gatherings known as wine and cheese, in which wine is paired with a variety of solid, yellow, rubber-like wheels derived from fat extracted from cows' milk - the cheese.

Such unique, foul-smelling dishes are a frequent part of the everyman French's life, being consumed by rich and poor alike in a variety of different recipes from all sorts of French subregions. Among them, I found yet another that would delight my intellect and terrify my stomach: gorgonzola. To the reader not quite as deep in diving into the intricacies of French culture, I shall explain: gorgonzola is but a piece of the aforementioned cheese, left to mold.

I could not believe my ears. These people drank rotten grapes and paired them with rotten cow fat, and they enjoyed it. What to us would be a nightmare scenario in a case of extreme poverty, and a surefire way to earn a trip to the hospital, to them was a quite enjoyable meal.

I later learned that gorgonzola is actually from a neighboring nation close to the French - the Italians. Although officially considered a different tribe, Italians share much in common with the French, including the love for wine and cheese, a quite long border, and a language derived from the same roots - the long-dead Latin, ancient language in which their holy book, the "Bible", was once written.

I am happy to report that my experimentation did not lead to hospital trips, and the most I got was an unusually long carsickness. But I have taken with me much more than the curious experience: traveling to France has helped me expand my horizons, meet new people, and connect with cultures other than my own. Although violent and offputting, the French can be quite amorous, and I was even gifted a piece of cheese from a little girl. It is not an experience I would like to repeat anytime soon, but it's made for an interesting story that helped me grow as a writer, investigative journalist, and, most of all, eater.

I can only hope my stomach has taken some good lessons out of the experience, too.

Cremilda Castanho is a writer, cat-lover, and known foodie, with a knack for finding unexplored depths of cuisine across the world. Her book, What Weirdos Eat, was a Folha de São Paulo best seller, and paved the way for culinary exploration in journalism, earning her a Pulitzer prize.

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littlemisshyperfixation · 9 months ago

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Jin Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

One Shots

Golden Boy (s) by @kpopfanfictrash ⊹₊⋆ The golden boy of the porn industry, prettier than half his female co-stars. Will sue if you pull his hair. Always bothering his neighbors with pizza delivery.

glazed & dazed (s f) by @floralseokjin ⊹₊⋆ Vanilla, that’s what you do best as one of the industry’s most loved stars. Only you want a change. Taking the plunge to taint your pure image, knowing so many fans would love to see it sullied, even if just for one movie. There’s only one man for the job in your eyes. One you’ve always admired from afar, and the only one who’s perfect enough to take your innocence in the most fitting way. Seokjin Kim. Even more famous than you; a pro, a veteran, and someone you can’t wait to give your all for. Together you will be unstoppable.

meet me at the bar (s f) by @eoieopda ⊹₊⋆ You're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

Stuck with you (a s f) by @taleasnewastime ⊹₊⋆ It’s the first Christmas since your dad passed away. You, your mum and sister are going to his favourite place to do his favourite thing, skiing. And yet you’re not there. Stuck. Stranded. Trapped. In seemingly the single hottest place in the world. Your transfer flight cancelled so you’re now stuck between home and your family. A snowstorm that causes all flights to be cancelled, heat that just seems wrong at Christmas, your sister crying and shouting down the phone at you, and to top it off, the most annoying man in the world who’s in the same position as you and seems to think you’re friends because of that fact. Merry Christmas to you.

fast lane (a f s) @yminie ⊹₊⋆ “Disgruntledly, you think to yourself how frustrating it is he can be quite so awful of a person and still be so good looking.” Alternatively; Boy Toy racer Kim Seokjin lives to test; the laws of speed, how many women he can bag, how much money he can convince people to give him, and quite how far you can be pushed before you snap.

small tuna fish (f s) by @floralseokjin ⊹₊⋆ Kim Seokjin is a really nice guy. (Not to be confused with a ‘Nice Guy’). Too nice for someone like you, you’re sure. Which is why you’ve been attempting to ignore what’s going on between you. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with you. He couldn’t possibly like you. Could he?

Lost and Found (a f) @taleasnewastime ⊹₊⋆ What do you do when your whole world comes crashing down around you? When everything you loved turns out to be a lie? When your fiancé tells you he’s been having an affair, you feel like your whole world comes crashing down, but then you find an antiques shop and the strange man that runs the shop helps you slowly rebuild your life and realise maybe not everything about you is broken.

Sit. Stay. (f a s) by @daechwitatamic ⊹₊⋆ Your new puppy, Zinnia, has turned your world on its head. She’s ruined everything from your sleep schedule to your favorite shoes, and you know it’s your own failure to train her properly. When your cute upstairs neighbor tells you about a local obedience academy, he slowly starts to make himself a place in your schedule, your life, and your heart. After your last relationship went up in flames, will his affections be something else you can count as a failure?

Last November (a s) by @kithtaehyung ⊹₊⋆ you two broke up on good terms. even seeing each other on your friends’ yearly end-of-november trip was never awkward. so why did this trip feel so different? and why does it feel like the end of something that wasn’t even there in the first place?

Cherry Topper (a s) by @kth1 ⊹₊⋆ Seokjin is a chaotically fun-loving guy who works long and hard hours at his successful, family owned candy store named Kim’s Sweet’s Shop, located on the corner of Cherry Lane. Being consistently busy with the labor of his work schedule and attending college to finish off his masters program, he has a very little social life and definitely does not have time for dating on this romantic, hectic holiday. But from right under his nose, one of his many admirers just so happens to be the sugar-coated treat that he’s been missing out on.

you've been avoiding me all day (a f) by @ugh-yoongi

#seokjin x reader #seokjin #kim seokjin #bts x reader #bts #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #jin x reader #jin #jin bts #jin smut #jin angst #jin fluff

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persevereforahappyending · 1 year ago

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Luck Runs Out |Part 1|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: Drugs, Guns, Violence

Word Count: 2.4k

Note: This is what happens when hyperfixations converge

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Cut the line!” You screamed over the raging storm and grinding machine.

“No!” Your captain yelled. “We can’t let the product go!”

“We have to!” you turned to face the captain.

“We have too much money riding on this drop.”

You watched as your fellow crewman continued to push the lever, trying to raise the net with product. You lifted thousands of pounds of fish almost daily so drugs shouldn’t be any different. It wasn’t usually different. The thing about machines though, no matter how many times you’ve used them, no matter how reliable they were in the past, they could still break.

The machine continued to groan, the wire grinding and struggling to raise the net. It was a bigger drop than usual, but it wasn’t anything you and the crew couldn’t handle. The thing that didn’t help though was that there was a major storm, the waves crashing around the boat, swaying it violently back and forth as your crew tried to raise the drugs. Most fishermen would have held out in leaving the dock when they heard the storm would be rolling in, just wait for it to pass and leave in the morning to get their catches. Your crew had a time limit though, you were told about the drop and drug dealers didn’t care about a ‘little storm’ in their words. Your job was just to get the drugs and bring them in.

“We have to cut the line!” You shouted, begging your captain to see reason.

“No!” He screamed back. “We get this line up or being out of a job will be the least of our worries.”

The grinding got louder, you looked to see the device to lift the net now smoking. Any other captain would have told them to cut the line, it would have sucked, but any other fishermen would have just taken the loss of the catch, the risk wasn’t worth it. You weren’t just any other fishermen though; you were the best. Your crew brought in some of the biggest catches, you were on one of the nicest fishing boats in the harbor, for fishermen the whole crew were well off not just the captain. You were also drug smugglers, you moved more drugs than fish, that’s where the real money came from.

“Screw it!” You said, watching as your crew mate struggled with the lever, losing his grip and as he slipped from a large wave that crashed onto the deck. The lever went down, the cord holding the product started to drop back into the ocean. Your crew mate quickly recovered and grabbed the lever, pushing it up as he caught the product, the cargo swinging from the sudden change.

You rushed forward, moving to push your crew mate out of the way when the cocking of a gun stopped you in your tracks. You heard it clearly, as if there weren’t crashing waves and thunder surrounding you.

“I said no,” your captain repeated.

You slowly turned to see your captain aiming a revolver at your head. You stared down the barrel of the gun, looking over it to see no hesitation in your captains’ eyes. You took a step away from the machine, refusing to back down from your captain's gaze. He was your captain, this was his ship, what he said was law, if he asked the men to throw you overboard, they would. A crew was supposed to be like family, fishing was dangerous, and the ocean was unforgiving, if you couldn’t rely on your crew, you might as well be dead. Everyone had a job and you needed to trust everyone would do their job, if you couldn’t trust them, then there was risk, everything could go wrong, and on the ocean, if something goes wrong it can not only cost you your life but your entire crews.

There was a groan then a loud snap, breaking the tense moment. Your eyes left the gun pointed at you and went to where the drugs were being lifted. One of the cables had snapped, the other was straining itself to hold the load. With the crew distracted you ran forwards, hitting the button to release the load. The net of drugs instantly dropped; the boat harshly swayed at the change in weight, sending you flying back into the side of the boat, nearly going over the edge.

You held onto the edge, trying to keep yourself upright. You turned around just as a shot rang out. An incredible force hit your shoulder, flipping you over the side of the boat. The cord that had broken free of the machine lifting the drugs entered the water, wrapping around your ankle as it trailed after the net it was connected to, the drugs you tried so hard to cut loose to save everyone was now dragging you to the bottom of the ocean. You weren’t a good person, you’d made a lot of bad choices in life, whatever the reason for those choices ultimately led you to where you were now. You always knew getting involved with this life was most likely a death sentence. Maybe the god of the sea would take mercy on you, maybe remake you into a shark or something cool. You weren’t that lucky though; the sea god was just as ruthless and merciless as the ocean he ruled. You were in his domain; you didn’t deserve his mercy.

You watched as the light from the boat slowly faded. You weren’t sure if they were leaving you, they probably were, or if you were too deep for light to reach, also probable, or made you were starting to blackout from whatever hit you, also highly likely. You deserved this, sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor, alone in the dark with nothing to do but rot. You deserved this.

Your eyes snapped open, the saltwater stinging them. You might have deserved to die like this but that didn’t mean you were going to make it easy. You were a fighter to the very end and there was no way you were going to sit back and just let the ocean take you. You swam up, trying to kick your foot loose from the cord it was tangled in. the cord seemed to only get more tangled, the pallet of drugs only pulling you deeper by the second. You felt around, searching your body for the knife you always kept on you. You let out an internal sigh of relief when your finger brushed the metal, your hand quickly gripping the rubber handle.

You freed your knife and swam down, the cord that was around your ankle was too thick to cut through, you were going to need to cut the net the drugs were in. You swam further down, black spots dancing in the corner of your eyes. You felt around, finally feeling the net, following the path of the net until you found where the cord around your leg connected to the net. You quickly dug the knife into the rope, sawing back and forth until the cord broke free. You didn’t waste a second, quickly swimming back to the surface.

You broke through the water, gasping for air, trying to keep your head above the water as the waves crashed over you. The storm was still raging, you looked around, seeing nothing but the glint of your knife in the moonlight. A few seconds after floating on the water, trying to reserve your energy since you didn’t know right from left in the ocean. If you just started swimming you could end up going further out to sea. You needed to find a piece of driftwood or something just to keep yourself afloat as the current guided you back to shore.

You sheathed the knife back at your side, not removing your hand until you knew it was secure. You reached down, bringing your leg up as you tried to detangle the cord from your ankle, while also keeping your head above the water. The cord was thick and heavy, it kept trying to drag you down but eventually you got it around your foot, kicking your foot to untangle the rest of it until you were finally free.

Something else broke the surface, making you jump but when you got closer you saw it, three tightly sealed packs of drugs. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, the drugs that seemed to be your downfall might be the thing that saved you. You swam to them, pushing them as close as you could together, holding them in place as they kept you afloat.

You pulled out your necklace that you always kept tucked under your shirt, giving it a kiss, silently thanking Poseidon or any other sea god that might exist. You didn’t necessarily believe in the Greek gods, but you grew up hearing those stories, fascinated by the mythology of it all. When you got into fishing your mother gifted you a little trident necklace and ever since you had never taken it off. You knew it was kind of stupid and your crew always made fun of you for it, but you always kissed it before going out to sea and held onto it during difficult times. You didn’t believe in it but on the off chance that the gods were real you wanted to show your support in some way, besides, representing the god of the sea and showing him respect didn’t hurt anything. It gave you comfort, believing in a god, believing that when you went out to sea you’d be protected and if the worse came, then you’d have somewhere to go, that your soul might be protected in the afterlife.

Or maybe Poseidon saved you only to let you die a far harsher death. Sinking to the bottom of the ocean isn’t ideal but it would have been quicker than your current predicament. Now you were floating in the middle of the ocean, a couple bags of drugs the only think keeping you from exhausting yourself and sending you back down to your demise. No one knew where you were, no one would come for you, your crew would lie about what happened and everyone would write you off as dead. You were soaked down to your bones, the top half of your body shivering in the moonlight, you had no food, no water. Your only hope of rescue was being close enough to shore that the tide would carry you in before you died from dehydration, which you knew wasn’t likely. Otherwise, your fate lied in the coast guard stumbling upon you or some unsuspecting fisherman catching sight of you as they set out for their catch.

You sighed, closing your eyes, yeah, the sea god was pissed at you. You couldn’t blame him; you did taint his ocean with drugs after all. You deserved everything that was coming to you. At least the rain stopped, maybe you were being shown mercy after all, maybe Poseidon wasn’t going to allow you to die alone, in the ocean, in the freezing rain. To most that wouldn’t seem like a kindness but for a god that was about as merciful as it got. You were lucky the waves weren’t still crashing over you, refusing to allow you to break through to the surface, fighting your way up and the surface just constantly being out of reach. If you were to die by simple dehydration, then you were lucky.

You had one arm stretched out over the packs of drugs to help keep them together, your fingertips dipping into the water with each movement of the waves. You rested your head against the packs, your eyelids becoming heavy despite your desire to keep them open. The last thing you saw was the moonlight before you finally lost consciousness.

Your eyes slowly fluttered, squinting as you tried to look around but quickly dropped your head back down when you didn’t have the strength to lift it. You groaned, as you reached over, touching your shoulder, gritting your teeth at the pain that shot through your entire body at the lightest touch. When you pulled your hand away, resting it in front of your face as you opened your eyes just a bit more to see your fingers coated red. With that your eyes slowly closed again.

You drifted in and out of consciousness, not able to open your eyes again. The sun beating down on you as you swayed with the waves. You weren’t sure where they were taking you, to shore, or further out into the ocean, inching closer to your demise with each wave.

The waves got rougher, making you regain consciousness for a second. It sounded like people were talking, you nodded thinking you finally succumbed to delusions and now you were hearing things. Certainly, it was only a matter of time before the ocean took you again, dragging you back down to your watery tomb.

Death never came though, you were gripped by the shoulders and hoisted upward, gently being placed back down on a hard surface. You tried to open your eyes, squinting as you saw a handful of silhouettes standing over you. One of them stood taller than the other, looking down at you as he pointed to the others, seeming to give them orders. When he turned, the sunlight hitting him just right, you could see he had a beard, he also smelled oddly like fish, maybe Poseidon was real after all, or maybe you smelled like fish, you were on a fishing boat the night before and had been in the ocean since then.

“Holy shit,” someone whispered, the first thing you could properly hear but your eyes wanted to remain closed as you tried to turn toward the voice.

“Let’s get back to shore!” someone ordered.

“We need to get them to a hospital,” another voice said. This voice was closer to you, and you felt pressure go to your injured shoulder, causing you to let out a cry, your body jolting from the pain but quickly flopping back down again.

“No,” you rasped out. “No hospital.” You tried to raise your hand to wave them off, but you didn’t think your hand ever left the ground. “No,” you breathed out before finally fully losing consciousness again.

#mabel finestkind #mabel (finestkind)#mabel x reader #mabel x you #mabel x fem!reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #finestkind 2023 #luck runs out

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one-idea · 1 year ago

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Nika cult part 2

Part 1

The worst part, is that Nika, no matter how much he looks or sounds like him, is not Luffy.

As much as the crew might complain(fondly) about Luffy’s boundless energy, Luffy does know how to be still. Not the way you might think, he can’t sit for hours or even minutes unmoving, but he knows how and when to be present with his crew.

There are days when Sanji needs company in the kitchen. When his thoughts get to loud. When he remembers his childhood and his siblings. When he remembers whole cake Island and all his crew gave up for him. when he feels useless or worthless.

Luffy comes and sits with him and asks about what food he’s making or just starts talking about anything and nothing. On really bad days he will ask Sanji about the All Blue and just listen to his chef tell him about his dream.

There are days when Arlong hangs heavy over Nami. Days where drawling maps hurt her hands, days when saving one berri feels like the difference between life and death. And Luffy just places his hat of her head and tells her about how he and Ace used to dine and dash or how they found treasure to save up for their adventures out at sea. And most of the stories are silly and make Nami smile but they all have the undertone of, ‘it’s okay, I’ve been with out money before we don’t need it to survive, you’re doing a great job taking care of us.’

And Nami knows her captain and crew come from ruff backgrounds, none of them are used to fortune and the luxuries that money can buy. And maybe that’s one of the reasons she’s still so obsessed with money. Yes she likes money. But before it was to free Cocoyashi. And now it to provide for her crew and her family. But it’s nice to have Luffy remind her it’s not necessary.

There are days when Usopp doesn’t believe he belongs on the crew. Not after his behavior on Water 7, not with how weak he still is compared to the others. He will lock himself in his work shop and try and find ways to improve his weaponry, or Nami’s clima-tact. He will work until his hands are raw, until he’s falling asleep at his table.

Or he will if Luffy doesn’t interrupt him. Luffy barrels through the door demanding Usopp’s attention. Sometimes it’s to go and play games, sometimes it’s fishing, and others it’s to fawn over whatever invention Usopp’s made. But it always ends with the two friends laughing and Usopp feeling at home once again.

There are days Chopper can’t stop working. Days when Dr. Hiriluk’s death and his own part in it hang to close to the surface of his mind. Days when he can’t stop making medicine because what if they don’t have what they need the next time someone’s sick? Or what if he gives them the wrong thing? What if his crew mates end up like Dr Hiriluk!?

Luffy will come in and sit with the little doctor. Asking after all the different medicine bottles and what Chopper is doing. Always following up with how Chopper is the best doctor (after all he is the strawhat doctor) and he keeps this going until Chopper is all happy again doing his little dances and calling Luffy a jerk for making him so happy

There are days when Robin can’t believe this is real. That this is her life. That she has friends who would risk everything to save her, who she would risk everything to save. It feels like a dream to not be alone anymore.

And on these days Luffy will come sit next to her and ask her to read to him. Whatever she’s reading that day will become their adventure for the afternoon. Robin loves sharing her books with him and Luffy loves the calming sound of her voice even if the tales go over his head sometimes.

There are days when Franky can’t work on the Sunny. He loves the Sunny and he’s so proud of her. But there are days when he remembers what happened to Tom. How his ships were turned against the people he loves. And he can’t let that happen again. But how does he prevent that. How does he build new weapons for his crew if they could be turned around and used against them? There are days he just sits in his work shop with his head in his hands wondering what the right thing to do is.

Until there his captain, sunshine personified bounces is and starts asking about all of his inventions and plans and it’s so easy to get lost in his captains excitement.

There are days when Brook forgets this is real. When he thinks if he closes his eyes (if he had eyes! Yohohoh skull joke!) then the whole crew will disappear and he will be alone again. The days where he sits in silence or with a sad melody playing on his violin.

Until Luffy sits down next to him leaning into his side, which can’t be comfortable for his captain but Luffy acts like it’s the most comfortable place on the ship and asks his musician to play him something. And the two get lost singing silly songs together until Brook forgets the haunting feeling of being alone.

There are days when Jinbei gets lost in the injustice of the world. Of his people. Of how he wants the world to change but will he ever be enough?

Until his rubber band of a captain slams into him and reminds him with a smile that the world is already changing. Jinbei is a member of the strawhat pirates now and if anyone can help make his dream come true it’s this ball is sunshine he gets to call captain

Zoro is different. Zoro has bad days. Days where he feels he isn’t strong enough so he train until he can’t. Days are also where he sees the scar on Luffy’s chest and is reminded of his failures as a first mate and vows to never fail again. Yet there are other days when the memory of Kuina floats over him and even this many years later her absence still makes him sad.

On the first day Luffy can find his first mate over training and a quickly bait him into sparing with him. Zoro gets lost in it. Theres nothing g better than sparing with his captain. No one fights quite like Luffy. Though the rest of the crew quickly makes then stop because they are rocking the boat. On the second and third type of day though Luffy can normally find his first mate napping on the deck. It’s not out of the ordinary to find Zoro napping, but Luffy just seems to know when Zoro needs company. The second and third days will often find Zoro and Luffy curled together supporting one another even in their sleep.

The crew doesn’t know how Luffy knows about their bad days. He’s always been weirdly emotionally intelligent. They don’t have to know it comes from years of watching Ace battle with depression and self esteem issues. That Luffy has trained himself to pick up on people’s subtle ques for when they need support. Two the crew it’s just part of what makes Luffy Luffy.

Which is why Nika is so jarring to the crew. He has Luffy’s face and voice but not his ability to read the crew. Where Luffy knew how to sit with his crew and be with them Nika is no stop motion. He can’t read the crews needs the way Luffy can. Nika is focused of the drive of freedom and finding away to get Luffy back.

The crew can at least agree to focus on the second goal. They want their captain back. There was so much about him that they didn’t recognize, that they took for granted and now that it’s gone they will do anything to get him back.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #straw hat pirates #roronoa zoro #one piece zolu #zolu #nami #usopp #sun god nika #nico robin #one piece franky #one piece brook #jinbei #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji #tony tony chopper #Nika cult au

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greeenchrysanthemums · 11 months ago

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A Friend

Gem brings her new friend to meet an old friend

I could not get this post out of my head. It was distracting me from writing my au, so I had to write it, or else I would never get anything done.

CW: past injury, implied torture, implied murder/death

Words: 3,444

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Pearl sighed from where she was leaning against the boat's railing with her head pillowed under her crossed arms, knees knocking together as she tapped one foot against the deck.

Who knew being out on sea would actually be so boring. It wasn't nearly as fun or lively as the stories of pirates and navy battles made it out to be. They hadn’t even sung a single shanty this entire time! She would have taken swimming alone for hours over this any day.

She was bored out of her mind; resorting to passing her time by watching the same cloud slowly shrink and crawl across the sky at the pace of a sea slug. It didn’t help that the same annoying seagull had been circling their boat for at least 5 miles at this point, squawking up a storm the whole time, as if to mock her personally. It was driving her absolutely nutty.

"I'm bored, Gem." She whined.

"No one told you to sneak onto my ship, Pearl." Gem said, amused. The other woman was sitting on a crate, whittling away at a small hunk of wood. It was too early to tell what she was making, but Pearl had seen many of her other carvings sitting in various place around the boat, and they were all animals, so if she had to guess, this one was probably another animal of some kind. She kind of hoped it was a wolf. They were her favorite land creatures so far.

"Well, no… but you let me stay, and I'm here now!" Pearl argued, "You should entertain me!"

Gem laughed. She put her knife back into the sheath on her thigh and shoved the chunk of wood into one of the many pouches around her waist. She walked over to the mast and lowered the sail, tying off the rope with practiced ease.

"If you're bored, then you're in luck, actually. We're just about in the right spot now anyway." Gem said, walking over to where Pearl was, which also happened to be where the anchor was bundled up on the deck. She raised a hand over her eyes to block out the sun as she squinted out over the sea, a hand planted firmly on her hip.

Pearl stood up straight and followed her gaze out over the water, expecting to find something there. She didn't see any landmarks of any sort, though. No islands, no other ships, nothing like that. The only thing she could note was maybe the birds circling over a particular part of the water. Maybe there was a school of fish in that area that Gem knew about?

"Are we stopping to catch some more fish?" Pearl asked, peering over the side of the boat to try and catch sight of some.

This would be the third time they've stopped to fish during their journey to the next town. She still didn’t understand fully why Gem couldn’t just get all of her fish from one area and be done with it. Something about different species and maintaining the ecosystem, or something like that. She hadn’t paid much attention; fish was fish to her.

"Mmm, no, more like a delivery this time." Gem said, tossing the anchor overboard.

Before Pearl had the chance to ask what she meant, something big moved underneath the waves. Pearl jumped away from the rail, her back hitting a barrel, which she latched onto to stabilize herself.

"What was that!?" She exclaimed. There were only a few things that large that came to mind at the sight, and none of them were good.

Gem laughed at the display as she rolled one of the barrels of fish over towards the side of the boat.

"That," She hefted it onto her shoulder with a grunt, the bells hanging from her headband twinkling with the movement as she planted one foot up onto the rail and tossed the barrel right over the side. It hit the water with a loud splash. "Was a good friend."

There was a moment of silence before something erupted from the sea, sending water flying in every direction. Pearl ducked behind the barrel with a shout as she was doused head to toe with salty water.

"Oh, come one!" Gem shouted with a bit of a laugh. What followed was an inhuman giggle, high pitched and almost similar to that of a dolphin's call. Pearl peaked around the barrel and her heart stopped cold when she was met with the familiar sight of what was unmistakably a siren.

Their webbed, clawed hands gripped onto the railing, holding their upper body out of the water. Pink and white scars covered most of their visible, pale skin, overlapping and criss-crossing each other in ways that suggested the healed over wounds were more likely than not intentional. Green scales the same shade as kelp started at their just barely visible hips and descended down towards what Pearl would assume was a tail of the same colour. There were fins on their elbows, and twitching gills along the sides of their neck.

Her gaze traveled further up towards a cheerful face covered in scars and a smile full of teeth sharp enough to tear her apart. The most noticeable one, and the one Pearl rudely could not tear her eyes away from, was a long scar that split the left side of their face. It was thick, jagged scar tissue that started at the corner of their mouth, cut through an empty eye socket, and went out of sight into their white hair, which was cropped down almost right to the scalp and messy.

"Did you have to splash me, too!?" Gem asked incredulously, wringing out her sopping wet braid.

"Of course not, but it was funnier." The siren answered in a voice far deeper than Pearl would have imagined coming from them.

"You've got to stop doing that when I bring new people around. You're such a pain!" Gem said, voice pitching higher as she ended her sentence off with a giggle.

"But you love me." The siren said, drawing out the 'e'.

Gem sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Unfortunately, yes I do." Gem said. She then marched over to Pearl and grabbed her by the shoulders.

Pearl let out an 'eep!' as she was pulled out from behind the barrel and presented to the siren. Was this Gem's plan all along? To feed her to a sea beast? To think that she came all this way only to end up right back where she started. She stood there stiffly as Gem threw an arm around her shoulders, pointed a finger up at Pearl's face, and said, "This is my new buddy, Pearl. Pearl, this is Etho. He's one of my oldest friends."

Etho raised a clawed hand and gave her a wiggly fingered wave, his eyes crinkling at the corners from the wide, toothy smile on his face. Pearl chuckled nervously and waved back, less enthusiastically. She wasn't scared of many other magical species, but sirens were one of her exceptions. She had a not so good past with them and their territorial tendencies. The scars on her legs and stomach pulsed with phantom pains just thinking about it.

"Anyway, with introductions out of the way, where're my goods Etho?" Gem said, releasing Pearl from her hold. Pearl immediately took the chance to step back and put the barrel between herself and the siren.

Etho's mouth made an 'O'.

"Oh, right! I'll be back in a sec." He pushed himself away from the small boat and dove back into the water.

"This guy," Gem said, shaking her head with a sigh. “He’s never prepared.”

"So, uh, why are we making a pit stop to bring a dangerous sea creature a barrel of fish?" Pearl asked, suspiciously eyeing the water that the siren had disappeared into. Gem turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

"Dangerous? Oh, please, Etho wouldn't hurt a fly," She said, and then paused, putting a hand over her mouth with a squint-eyed, thoughtful look, "Unless he had to."

"That doesn't make me feel better." Pearl said with a nervous chuckle. Gem's eyes widened and then her face split into a cheeky grin.

"Wait, are you scared of Etho?" She asked with a giggle.

"Who wouldn't I be?! He could eat me in a second flat with those big teeth!" Pearl defended, crossing her arms as her cheeks burned bright red.

"Nah, it takes sirens at least three days to eat a whole human being." Gem said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Gem!?" Pearl questioned, alarmed.

"I'm just messing with you!" Gem laughed, "But seriously, Etho won't hurt you, I promise."

As if summoned by his name, Etho surfaced not even a second later, sending another splash of water that just barely missed them onto the deck. Etho peeked over the railing with an excited look on his face, which fell into a pout when he saw that he hit neither of them with the water.

"Quite messing around, would you? Get up here and show me what you got me already, you big oaf." Gem said.

"i'm not an oaf" Etho said as he tossed a thick net full of junk onto the deck and heaved himself up over the railing. Pearl gasped and ducked behind the barrel again as the siren's lanky body hit the deck with a loud thump.

Pearl’s eyes widened when she saw that the scars weren't reserved for only his upper body. The scales all along his tail were patchy in places, thick scar showing through the gaps, and his tail fin was ripped in several spots. She couldn’t help but admit that she was curious what could have caused such extensive injuries to something as dangerous as a siren, a being capable of charming their way out of just about any situation.

Gem went to sit cross legged by Etho's side as he pulled the net bag into his lap, his tail folded to the side and out of the way. Perhaps getting the deck all wet wasn’t just to be a menace, but also to make sure he could sit up here without drying out too fast, she noted as her foot splashed in the half inch of water that had accumulated on the deck…How were they going to get rid of the water when he left?

Pearl stood awkwardly off to the side, not behind the barrels anymore but not far away from them either. She could hide if she wanted to. Not that it would help her escape from a siren song, but it was the thought that counted.

"Find anything good this month?" Gem asked.

"Meh, not really." Etho replied before pulling out a few beautiful shells from the net and handing them over to Gem, who took them with a noise of excitement. "I'll have to start going further out soon. I've just about picked all the wrecks from here to Sirens' Cove clean of anything worth something."

"Hm, don't go too far. I don't need treasure so badly that you need to risk your safety..." Gem muttered, holding the shells up to the waning sun in order to inspect them. "Gods these are beautiful. Pearl, come look at these."

"Uh, um," Pearl stuttered. She would really rather not go over there. In fact, it was the last thing she wanted, but then Gem looked up at her with the most innocent and expecting smile, and she just couldn't say no. There went her plan of hiding among the barrels until Etho left.

She hesitantly went over and sat on Gem's other side, folding her legs under her in such a way that it would be easy for her to dive to the side. Gem handed her one of the shells and she took it, turning it over in her hands. It was a pretty shade of rose pink and about the size of her palm. She didn't know what animal it came from, but it was beautiful.

She jumped backward when a clawed hand suddenly shoved itself into her face without warning. Her back hit the railing and her head knocked against the wood. She hissed through her teeth and rubbed the surely forming bruise as she looked up to see Etho holding a chain out to her. She looked back and forth between him and the salt water rusted chain before gingerly taking it from his hold.

It was a necklace with a rusty silver chain and a small clam shaped locket at the end. The hinges of the locket were definitely too rusted to get open, and the whole thing looked like it would fall apart in her hands at any moment. Despite this, she could tell that it used to be a beautiful piece of jewelry. Maybe someone on land would be able to restore it to its previous glory?

"For you. Because your name is Pearl," Etho said, looking proud of himself. Pearl raised an eyebrow. His face fell into a frown and he elaborated, "Clams make pearls?"

"Oh, thank you." She said, closing her fist around the trinket.

"Hey, I thought this was supposed to be my payment!" Gem exclaimed.

"It's still my stuff! You don't even take everything half the time, I can give away whatever I want." Etho defended.

The two of them glared at each other, clearly having some sort of a silent conversation, and Pearl felt incredibly awkward watching it. She was just about to try and mediate whatever fight they had going on, unwillingly to be put between an angry Gem and an angry siren, when the two of them poorly held back chuckles before bursting out in laughter. Pearl blew out a relieved breath and let out a chuckle of her own.

"I don’t want to cause any fighting," Pearl hesitantly said, holding the locket out to Gem.

"You can keep that, Pearl, we were just joking around." Gem said, holding her hands up and refusing to take the locket.

Pearl looked down at the piece of jewelry and then shoved it into her blouse without needing to be told twice. She wasn't going to say no to free valuables. She would likely sell it once they reached land. She would need as much money as she could if she wanted to start a new life, after all. Maybe she could get more for it by spinning an elaborate tale of how she stole it from a siren.

Slowly they went through the entire contents of the bag, trying to determine what was actually of worth and what was just visually appealing. Pearl wasn’t really doing much, to be honest; only taking what Gem handed to her and giving it a once over before handing it back. It seemed to satisfy the younger woman though.

Pearl would occasionally flicker her eyes over towards the siren sitting across Gem from her, still somewhat convinced until halfway through their sorting that he was going to eat her. Her worries were quickly dispelled, however, much to her surprise. He was almost childlike with his excitement to show off certain goods to them, his enthusiasm and mannerisms actually quite endearing.

She also saw how close he and Gem seemed, an almost familial bond between the two of them. They talked and interacted with such familiarity that Pearl was led to believe that this really was a regular occurrence for them, and they seemed more than happy to include her.

She felt her heart warm in her chest the more she watched them alternate between play fighting and gushing over pretty knick knacks together. Her lips quirked into a smile as she examined another pink shell. She wondered how she had ever been afraid of him.

In the end, they split the contents of the net bag into two piles that Gem had dubbed "Goods for Gem" and "Etho's junk", which he gladly scooped back up once they were finished.

Gem stretched her arms above her head and arched her back until it popped, and Etho yawned wide, his clawed hand itching one of the patchy spots on his tail. Pearl yawned as well, and then her stomach grumbled embarrassingly loud. Etho looked over at her and giggled, causing Pearl's face to light up red once again.

"I think that's my signal to get something going dinner wise." Gem said, pushing off of the ground to climb to her feet.

"I'm getting hungry too," Etho said. He pulled part of the net bag over his shoulder, turned halfway around, grabbed onto the railing, and expertly flipped himself over the side of the boat, landing in the water with a slap that once again dowsed Pearl from head to toe.

She sighed. She had just been drying off from the first time. She pushed herself up onto her knees, shook water off of her hands, and turned around to peer over the side of the boat into the dark water. There wasn't much light to be provided by the setting sun, but there was just enough to see the general shape of Etho's head poking out of the water, bobbing along with the gentle waves.

"Are you heading out, Etho?" Gem's voice asked from beside her.

"Yeah, I've left those fish down there long enough. I have to get them home, or something will eat them before I get the chance to." Etho called back up to her.

"Alright, then, take care. Don't be a stranger." Gem said, giving him a broad wave.

"Bye Gem. Bye Pearl. It was nice meeting you. Safe travels!" Etho said before diving below the waves. Pearl gave a tiny wave goodbye; not even sure he had seen the farewell.

"Still scared of the big bad siren?" Gem asked in a teasing manner. She was busying herself with lighting the lanterns hanging outside of the cabin.

"Not really," Pearl admitted, "He seemed really sweet."

"He is a sweetheart," Gem said, "We've been friends for years now, and I've been supplying him fish just as long. It's a heavy blow to my profit, but honestly, I don't mind doing it for him."

"You never did answer my question," Pearl said, "Why do you supply him with fish?"

Gem looked hesitant at that.

"He hasn't been able to hunt very well since the...accident that caused all of his scars." She said after a moment, blowing out a breath. "His sense of direction isn't the greatest, nor is his vision, both a result of that injury to his eye that you saw. He's also not the strongest swimmer, so he has trouble keeping up with most prey long enough to catch anything. Things like sea berries, kelp, clams and crab aren't hard for him to catch, so it's not like he *needs* me to hunt for him, but he's always had a liking for the fish in this part of the sea."

She crossed her arms and set them on the railing, assuming a position similar to what Pearl had been in earlier before Etho showed up. She looked down at the rippling water with a pensive look on her face.

"When he told me he couldn't catch them anymore, I offered to bring them to him every few months in exchange for some treasure." She continued, "Like he said, though, I don't really need any of the stuff he brings me. I just know that he wouldn't take the fish unless he thought it was mutually beneficial to the both of us. He has a lot of pride like that, can't even let me do something nice for him just because I want to."

She shook her head and chuckled sadly. Pearl was silent, studying Gem's grim expression. She was beginning to realize just how big the other woman's heart truly was. Really, she should have realized it right from the very start. Not very many seasoned fishermen with Gem's kind of reputation would just accept a stowaway with open arms, let alone feed and clothe them on top of letting them stay in the same cabin as them. She was one in a million.

"Enough of that," Gem said, pushing herself away from the railing, "It's time to eat. I'm starving!"

Pearl followed Gem into the small cabin without another word, throwing one last glance at the now pitch-black waves, almost expecting to see a pair of eyes watching her. The locket felt heavy where it rested against her breast.

A friendly siren; who would have thought it. Only the gods above knew what else Gem had in store for her.

#geminitay #pearlescentmoon #shiny duo #ethoslab #hermitcraft #Danny's fics #Heart of the Sea Gem #Point of View: Pearl #maybe i'll write more for this maybe I won't who knows #i didn't even proofread this one #i wanted it out of my head as quickly as possible #oh also in case it didn't come across well in the fic itself (which I doubt it did this was very rushed) Pearl is a mer #who gave up her tail to live as a human #gem doesn't know this and pearl doesn't know that gem is a sea creature of some kind as well #very few humans in the cast of this one

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the-real-treasure · 6 months ago

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Treasure Treasure!

An OPLA Sanji x Reader

Master List Here

Previous Chapter: Mon Cœur Est Un Petit Âne

Chapter Nine: Treasure Troves in Orange Groves

Summary: The crew chases after a girl with tangerine hair through memories lined with sweet citrus scents and orange trees, only to discover that the bitter attitude is to make up for the deep seeded pain.

Trigger Warnings: Trauma, destruction, parental death, fire Word Count: 3,929 **Edited: 17/09/24**

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Dolphins leapt out of the water at the bow of the Going Merry, as Usopp attempted to follow Buggy's directions.

"But you said five degrees starboard."

"Yeah, it's the other starboard, Captain Shit-tastic."

"Watch your tone," you rumbled from beside the barrel he was perched on, a bucket of salt water at the ready to douse him for bad behaviour.

"I thought clowns were supposed to be funny," Usopp muttered.

"What was that?" Buggy hopped around to face him. "Why don't you say it to my face?" He squawked in irritation as you ladle salt water over him, making him splutter and spit as Zoro comes up behind Usopp. "Hey! Morning, champ!"

"I know Luffy made a deal with you to find Arlong, clown, but if this is another trick-"

"What are you gonna do? Bleed on me?" Buggy laughs at himself for a moment before Zoro grabs him by the scalp, retreating with him to the stern. "Whoa, whoa! WAIT! WHOA! Whoa, what?! Because I said bleed on me? Wasn't the crazy one's bucket enough?! You can bleed on me if you want." You and Usopp smirk at each other as Zoro dangles him over the water. "I mean, a deal's a deal, all right? You want your map back, I want my body."

"How do we know you're not leading us to a trap?"

"Zoro, buddy! Honour amongst pirates! Right?! Come one, how about I sing a nice sea shanty to pass the time. ♪ Oh, there once was a girl with tangerine hair, Stole my map and left me stranded somewhere ♪" Zoro pulled him back into the boat and moved to dump him in the barrel beside you as he continued singing, "♪ Truly a crafty and crooked young lass, But you can't deny she had a spectacular--♪ OW! God, right on my nose!" With your clown-watch duties halted for the moment, you abandon the salt water bucket on top of the captive's barrel and move down to perch along the railing between Sanji and Luffy as they fish.

"Does it always take this long?" Luffy was leaning over the taffrail and peering into the water, eyes peeled for any fish below him. Sanji chuckles.

"We've only been here two minutes. Be patient. Some days, they bite as soon as you drop the line, and some days it takes hours. And then there are days when you don't catch anything at all." Sanji looks up from the rod to side-eye your captain. "But we're not talking about fishing, are we?"

"I just want to know if Nami's okay."

"She will be," you answer his concern, "when we get her back, she'll be just fine."

"How'd you know?" His question is quiet, which is a strange way for Luffy to be.

"Because no one with a dream like that won't be okay. It might take time. But we'll have her back with us, and we can look after her." Sanji hums in agreement with you, eyes back on the fishing line.

"A beautiful, talented woman does not choose to ally herself with a pirate like Arlong."

"Not without good reason." He nods along to your addition as your mind drifts.

(The orange-haired woman. A girl with blue hair. A small ramshackle house in the centre of a grove of orange trees)

"Nami clearly needs to be rescued."

"Her tattoo says different."

"Zoro." You say his name warningly.

"Tattoos don't tell the whole story, and like any woman, she's a mystery."

(A windmill made of an orange peel, stuck into the ground of a fresh and simple grave)

"Nami made her choice."

"But you don't know why." Zoro looks at you, your eyes still focused on somewhere far away. Sanji moves his head from behind yours to meet Zoro's gaze with a harsh glare. He still hadn't forgiven him for your fight, even if the pair of you had started to move past it. Zoro returns it with a scowl.

"Only thing I want to hear from you are dinner specials. You don't know the first thing about Nami."

"She's Y/n's friend. That's all I need to know. Besides, it sounds like you don't know her either." He snaps in return. Luffy leans back from the rail, interrupting their glaring contest as he speaks.

"I'm sure Nami has her reasons. Whatever choice she makes, I just need to hear it for myself." Luffy moves away to join Usopp at the rudder, and the tension again tightens through the air.

"Nakayoshi." Both your and Sanji's eyes turn to the green haired swordsman, his own gaze fixed out to sea. "Have you seen the same as with me?" You blink and frown.

"What?"

"With her dream." He finally looks up at you. "You know what it is, why it is what it is. That's why you're so sure."

"I'm so sure," you reply, "because she's my friend, and I trust her to make not entirely stupid decisions." Your fingers begin to tangle, Sanji's own hooking them between his as you click your teeth. "Sometimes, I get context with peoples dreams, because the path to it isn't the clearest." Your eyes dart to him, but he's still watching silently. "Sometimes, it's images of where it will be, like if I squeeze my eyes shut tight I can perfectly picture the All Blue, all the fish and seaweed and spices swirling together in a crystal clear pool." You do so, and miss the way Sanji's eye soften and the smile grows on his face. "But with dreams like Nami's, or yours, I get more history, like flashes of memories. Sometimes, there's a lot of them, like your friend and you training and the forest and her sword and memorial. Other times,"

(A orange-haired woman)

"its just a few things,"

(A blue-haired girl)

"but always the same,"

(And an orange peel windmill)

"over and over and over." Your eyes drift open again to the sight of the azure waves rolling past you.

"And how do you know," Zoro's voice is deep and quiet, "that it's a real dream at all? That it's not fake?" You smile over at his glum face.

"If it was fake, it wouldn't be there. Only the true stuff comes through."

"LAND HO!" You all turn to look at Usopp's call and he points across the water to collection of white stone islands jutting out of the sea.

The Conomi Islands.

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Back at Baratie, Akito calls over his shoulder as a group of men walk in.

"Dining room is closed for renovations." One of the men spoke.

"We need to speak to the owner." Akito slowly turns to them.

"I'm afraid the chef is busy with..." his voice trails off as he sees the group of Marines standing behind him, Garp front and centre with Bogard, Koby and Helmeppo trailing behind him. "My apologies, of course. He'll be right with you." He rushes off to retrieve Zeff.

He comes out of the kitchen, peg leg repaired and gait wide as he approaches the group.

"Marines, and a Vice-Admiral at that. A little late to the party, aren't we?" The older men stance up in front of each other. Koby can hear where Y/n got their funny lilting tone of voice from.

"I always wondered what happened to the infamous Red Leg Zeff."

"Sir, do you know this man?" The pinkette queries.

"Only by reputation. Captain of the Cook Pirates."

"Yeah, well those days are far behind me. I'm retired, I'm a chef now. And the only thing under my command is this restaurant."

"Retirement doesn't mean you couldn't have trained someone else to do your dirty work from now on. We're not here for you, Red Leg. We've had word that a pair of pirates came through here recently." He holds out his hand, and Bogard places a roll of paper into it, which he unfurls and holds out. "One is reported as being a member of your staff, and was travelling with one by the name of Luffy." Zeff peers down at the now familiar wanted poster embellished with 'Nakayoshi Y/n' and your haunting visage. Zeff shakes his head.

"I can't help you."

"Can't?" Bogard asks, "Or won't?" Zeff shrugs.

"These days, I'm lucky if I remember my regulars."

"Oh, you'll remember this one. Straw hat. Always running his big mouth."

"No, I'm drawing a blank."

"Even if I tell you this one," he shakes the wanted poster out again, "is wanted for the murder of a civilian in the Gecko Islands." Zeff hesitates, looking at him for a moment longer.

"No. But, how about a meal on the house? I've got a dozen T-bone steaks and a busted cooler. It'd be such a shame to let all that delicious marbling go to waste."

"We're not here for a meal. We're here-" Garp interrupts his second in command.

"That steak..."

"Medium rare?" Garp nods, a smile growing across his face.

"More rare than medium."

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Your crew walk through the empty and dilapidated homes of the village you had just arrived at, the entire place seemingly empty. You stare at one of the buildings, seemingly torn from it's foundations and now close to four feet off the ground.

"Never seen that before." Zoro mutters.

"What could've done this?" Sanji stares at it. Usopp stutters behind you.

"Maybe I should head back, make sure the Merry's secure."

"Arlong did this." Luffy snarled, ignoring the sharpshooter's concerns. Buggy's voice escapes the bag slung over Sanji's shoulder.

"Hey, shit-hat! I think we can all agree that Arlong's a bad fish. But why don't we quit lollygagging and get my body back?"

"Pipe down in there." Sanji spoke down to the bag.

"Or what?" The decapitated clown snarked, "You gonna whip me up a soufflé?"

"How about you take him a while?" Usopp leaned away and eyed him.

"Ooh, new guy carries the clown head."

There was a crowd of people up ahead and one man stood before them, calling to them all desperately.

"We don't have much time, and we're short again this month."

"Is it enough?" They seemed to be collecting donations in a box carried by the calling man, who shook his head at the question.

"Do we have time to get some more?"

"No." The flat familiar voice chimed over the dine, silence falling as the crowd parted. Nami stood at the gates of the town, arms crossed and face blank. "You don't." A woman with blue hair steps out in front of her as she moves through the crowd, and Zoro has to stop Luffy advancing as well, his hand flat against Luffy's chest.

(A girl with blue hair...)

"You've got a lot of nerve showing your face here." She spits into the dirt at Nami's feet.

(...chasing a little girl with orange hair)

As she turns and stalks away, you all watch her go before Nami turns to the man from earlier.

"Got something for me?" He hands her the box, and she flips open the lid peering in. "You're short." The crowd around them begins to disperse as the man pleads with her.

"Nami, please. This is all we have. Arlong has bled us dry."

"Then find more blood." Her teeth are grit and a scowl twists her face as she speaks to him. He turns away himself as Nami's eyes fall on your crew, and she begins walking over.

"Luffy? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"This is where I belong."

"I don't believe that. This is not you."

"No. This isn't the me you want me to be."

"Nami..." his voice was quiet as he looked at her, "...if you need our help-"

"No, I don't need any of you. Arlong wanted the map, and I conned you idiots into getting it for me. And you bought it. I was never part of your stupid crew."

"I don't believe that." Nami's head snaps to face you, eyes alight with rage as they seared into you, and Sanji grabs a hold of your wrist, pulling you slightly more into him.

"You don't believe that? It doesn't matter," her voice is emotionless and the laugh that falls from her mouth matches, "what you believe. You don't know anything about me, how could you possibly know, what with you, so clueless and running around, chasing other people's dreams because you're too dumb to recognise just how little you matter and how useless you are to everyone around you." Your eyes begin to itch, reacting to the waves of anguish rolling off her person, and you know you're right. You know.

(Pleasepleaseplease)

"I know," Your resolve splinters and you clamp your teeth down on your lip to halt the trembling, "that someone who wants to be here, doing these things, would never,"

(Helpmehelpmehelpme)

"...wish so hard to be free." Her blue eyes go misty but she shakes her head at your words, and a scoff tumbles from her lips.

(A dark room, empty apart from the little girl's form, surrounded by maps and shackled to the floor)

"I have never meet such a stupid person in all of my life." Her bitter words sting at your fractured composure, but it's the energy rumbling through you in a rage that makes you hold firm. Luffy stands straight as her glassy enraged eyes move to him again.

"You don't mean that."

"Take the rest of these clowns and sail away from here. I never want to see you again." With that she turns her back on you all, marching away as the echoing pleas of her wish fade from the air around you, box still clutched tightly under her arm. Usopp laughs awkwardly to dispel the uncomfortable stillness around you.

"Okayy, that went about as bad as it could. So, back to the boat before the fishmen find us?" You shake off Sanji's loosening grip and step up alongside your captain's still form. "Sail the hell out of here? Okay."

"There's something else going on here." Sanji's voice sounds behind you as Luffy side eyes you.

“She was very clear she wants us to leave.”

”You don’t know women. They never say what they mean.”

“Tell me again why the cook gets a say?” The boys stance up against each other with Usopp stuck in the middle.

“Don’t you guys get it? She’s one of them. She’s a bad guy.”

“No." Luffy’s voice cuts through Usopp’s. He turns to you fully. “Y/n. What did you say ‘bout her dream?” He takes a hold of shoulders and leans in close to your face, “What did you mean, what do you know?” The words catch in your throat, the ripples of her dream’s energy long having faded and you stare at him wide-eyed.

“I can’t- it’s not,” your ears burn and your power coils in your chest. “I'm not a mind reader Monkey D. Luffy!"

"No! You're a dream reader! And that's even better!" Luffy’s fingers dig into your skin. “There has to be more, tell me.” His voice drops from quiet to a near silence “There is more.”

Your mind splutters, drifting to the image of a girl with blue hair as your eyes drift to the path the woman had stomped down previously, and Luffy’s eyes follow as well.

Usopp shrugs “The villagers are still terrified of her.”

”Not all of them.” He releases you finally, and turns back to the town centre. “Hey! Scar guy!” The man reemerges from his house, watching as you all approach. “Who was that lady? You know, the one with the cool hair?”

”Wo wants to know?”

”I’m Monkey D. Luffy. I’m a pirate-”

“-hunter.” Zoro cuts him off, stepping up beside him. “Pirate hunter. We’re here to collect Arlong’s bounty.”

“You? I’ve seen. Men twice your size and with twice your number go into Arlong Park. None of them ever came back.” A smile grew across Luffy’s face.

“We just want to talk to her.”

”Trust me, you don’t. But if it’ll get you out of my town try the house down that road, on the edge of the tangerine grove.”

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Luffy takes the well worn paths through the head height orange trees at a lolloping pace. You match, and sometimes even outpace, his speed, the trail through the trees familiar to you through the images of Nami’s history, your feet falling into the familiar groves of borrowed memories and the citrus scented air trills with the whispers of girlhood races long lost as echoes of the past that danced through with the breeze.

Usopp speaks, gasping breaths coating his tongue, as he spoke.

“I think I got more of a boat body than a long-journey-on-foot kind of body. Anybody else missing the ocean? No? Okay. I could go bring the boat around if we don’t want to walk all the way back.” As they emerge from the tree-line, they spot the house.

Honestly it was more of a ramshackle hut, but the warm nostalgia of Nami’s memories painted the building in an aura of happiness perfumed with tangerine juices. As they approached the top, the door slams open, and the woman, azure hair aquamarine in the shade, levels a rifle at the captains head. Usopp lets out a yell of shock and ducks behind Zoro, who barely reacts other than raising his eyes to her. Sanji moves you immediately behind him and you nearly topple over.

“Turn around and leave. Now.” Usopp chimes up from behind the swordsman.

“That’s what I’ve been saying.”

”Hey.” Luffy chirps happily, “I saw you earlier. I think maybe you and I have something in common.” She cocks the gun and drops the barrel lower. You lean out from behind Sanji to peer up at her.

”I’ve got the gun, and you’re standing in front of it. What could we possibly have in common?”

”Let’s start with Nami. Seems you know her very well.”

”She’s a thief with no conscience. And when there’s no more left to take, she leaves and doesn’t turn back. Now get off my property.”

””Nami’s part of our crew. She’s our friend.” Luffy smiles up at her, gun and all. You step out from behind your Sanji.

”You’re her sister.” Her gun rounds on you, eyes darker but sharp and dangerous in a way painfully familiar. The barrel of the gun is shaking in your eye line.

”My sister,” she starts, her voice shaking, “doesn’t have any friends. The sooner you guys realize that, the better.” Sanji looks down at you.

“Sisters. That makes sense, how’d you know?” Your eyes don’t leave the woman’s wavering stare.

“She showed me.” She shakes her head at you.

”Give over. There’s no way she would ever share that with you. I can tell she really did a number on you guys. You’re not special, and I can’t help you.”

”How about a meal?”

“What?”

“An exchange of sorts for your valuable time and information.”

”You cook?” Zoro huffs.

“He’s a waiter.” You glare at him.

“He’s the best cook on the ocean!”

“Yeah, best in the East Blue, you never tasted anything better in your life! Usopp’s word!” You and Sanji smirked at each other.

“You’d be surprised how much I a make with very few ingredients. Come on, how a’bout a little dinner? A little conversation?”

“Fine.” She dropped the gun completely. “But there better be dessert.”

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“Dinner’s served.” Sanji placed down a few more dishes on the table as your crew around dug in, the sun having long since set. You and Usopp smiled smugly at each other as Nojiko groaned in bliss at the food she was shovelling into her mouth.

“Told you.” She grins up at where Sanji was leaning against the door frame.

“You know, this is the best thing I’ve eaten in my entire life.”

“Listen, there’s plenty more where that came from, but first we really need to know about Nami.” She swallowed thickly and looked away.

“The truth is…”

Her eyes filled with tears and her chest heaved as she told you the horrible tale of how she and Nami had lost their mother to Arlong when he first invaded Coco Village. It filled in gaps in the memories she had left you with, connecting most of the dots between the gleeful girl you had seen to the hopeless and agonised young woman you know now. Sanji coughed to hide a sniffle and you rub at your eyes fruitlessly.

“Wait. Nami’s working for the pirate that killed your mother?” She nods to Usopp’s question, but you respond as well.

“There’s more to it than that.” Your mind flashes to the dark room filled only with hand-drawn maps and a manacle shackled to the ground as Luffy stands from the table and walks outside, “Luffy?”

You don’t follow Luffy or Zoro as the head out into the darkness, instead staying perched at the table, glaring at the clown heads as he harassed poor Usopp as he made up his exploding ammunition. With a scream of “BOOM!” and his cackling laugh, Nojiko threw down the dish towel she was using to dry.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go get some air.”

“Can you just be quiet?” Usopp asked as you pick up and folding the dropped towel Nojiko had abandoned.

“Aw, come on. Where’s the fun in that? Do you really think your little toys can get through the skin of a fishman?” Usopp’s hands are shaking as he caps the small ball up, now filled with powder.

“These are smoke bombs.”

“Smoke? That’s rich. Makes me think of how long it’s been since I’ve had any smoked fish.” He swallowed harshly and peered up at the three of you, “Maybe if you guys had some extra? Please?” You and Sanji look over as Usopp continues to ignore the severed head who begins to roar in anger, “Ah screw you guys! Arlong’s gonna bite the shit out of you anyway! You know you don’t stand a chance against him and his army. And you dumb pieces of garbage, you ain’t gonna do anything against that stupid-" He grunts awkwardly as Sanji stuffs an orange into his mouth whole, gagging him and completely cutting off his tirade.

“New guy shuts up the clown head.” Buggy tries to spit out the citrus fruit to no avail as you glare down at him.

“I miss my seawater torture bucket.”

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You all stood on the path through the orange grove, listening in silence as the darkness around you ripples with the roar from your captain. After Nojiko had run off and followed Nami, Zoro had returned to your trio inside and urged you to come out and wait for him.

You and Usopp looked up at him as he stomped down the path, now sans a hat and still missing Nami. He doesn’t make eye contact as he glares ahead, complete focus now on Arlong park.

“Let’s go.” His command is firm and you all respond as one.

“Right.” As you all stand, the scent of smoke catches you over the citrus fruit scent on the wind. Usopp peers past you at the now glowing horizon, but instead of daybreak, its blazing fire that lights up the night sky.

“What’s that?” You hope someone will come up with a different explanation than what you all already know.

“They’re attacking the village.” Usopp supplies to your question, and explosions and gunshots join the smoke now wafting through the atmosphere.

It seems Arlong had brought the fight to you.

Next Chapter: Poisson d'Arlong

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brittle-doughie · 2 years ago

Text

Y/N Cookie Blurbs (Various Cookies)

Essentially little random stuff set from various fics

A Handycookie’s Expertise

You were ready to head out for the day, work in the lower levels wasn’t easy, but it came with the territory. You put away your equipment at your station before heading to the elevator as you pressed the button.

“Hold the elevator for me, Y/N Cookie~”

Crumbs. (Sonic drowning theme plays)

You subtly, but rapidly, kept pressing the elevator button. Fortuna please, this was the last thing you wanted today, you were right there-

Dark Fondue made it inside before the elevator door closed a mere second afterwards.

“Thank you, you’re such a gentleman/lady~”

Cue one awkward elevator ride as Dark Fondue tried to get as close as possible to you, asking if you happened to be free tonight~

————————————————————————

Bake It till You Make It

“What a beautiful cake! Do you have any plans to visit the Republic? Would you be interested in opening a branch there?”

Your baking career has led you to opening up shop in the Creme Republic, after a long negotiation with Clotted Cream Cookie. This place definitely had a different vibe then back home, but hey, the republicans seem to really love your cakes, so you learned to stick to it.

“This cake tasted so amazing! If it’s not much a problem…can I order another?”

“It was perfect! Not even the republic’s bakers can match your level, they can learn from you!”

“Looked and tasted as great as I thought it would! I’m definitely coming back here..”

What happy customers…a little too happy…

Oh well, next!

“O-oh, I was just happening to be walking by when I saw this cake shop, I thought it would be a good opportunity to visit.”

You thanked the woman, with the reputation of the republic, still hearing that they’d be interested in visiting your little cake shop over the more fancy restaurants made you feel honored.

“If it’s not too much to ask, may I request a cake?”

You readied your notepad.

Whenever you’re ready, madam.

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A Fish in a Barrel

Part two will be happening, don’t y’all worry!

“Where they could be? We’re searched a large portion of these snowy plains and…oh no..this is…part of Y/N Cookie’s uniform in the snow. You don’t think they’re…”

“Hold your tongue! The Eighth Watcher would never let themselves freeze, they’re stronger then that. We should take this as a sign that they’re out there instead!”

Bittersweet just looked to the ever expansive tundra of snow, with you on Bittersweet’s mind.

The Second Watcher refused to believe you were frozen crumbs, you HAD to be out there somewhere.

The Bittersweet Watcher also wanted to hope you were out there as well, everyone has been a little down on morale, including Bittersweet.

Caramel Arrow did help with matters…but…

The Watchers just felt empty without you…

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No Dice

Clotted Cream Cookie had to walk around with a shield you casted on him for the rest of the council meetings, your ancient cookie pals would be incredibly hostile towards him, especially if you were nearby.

The squad would never leave your side ever since Clotted’s proposal, they were too worried that this cookie may try to pull a fast one and rob your Soul Jam!

It’s only normal that the best of friends look out for one another! Pure Vanilla thinks that time spent together can really bring you all closer together.

That would be a good idea if it weren’t for the fact that they were trying to kil-WHITE LILY PUT THOSE POISONOUS LILES DOWN!

She swears that she’s only handling a problem before it gets worse. No cookie will take advantage of you when she’s around! So she…plans on taking Clotted out of the picture so he won’t bother you anymore!

You would sigh as you gave White Lily a gentle bonk on the head. No, White Lily, that was not the way of the ancient heroes.

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Molded, Battered, Whole

The six dragons were flying about in the islands, it was time they all got a pile of fresh air, especially dragons that remain cooped up in their palace all day…Lotus…

It was also a time the five wanted to spend time with you not having to worry about anything. Longan’s plan could wait just a little longer if it meant getting to see you more often.

And so, the five dragons soared through the sky, flapping their wings at different rates-five?

The dragons looked around for their missing sixth, only to see you lagging behind as you flapped your wings slower then theirs.

Lychee giggled as they watch you try to keep up with the others, who now have stopped their flying to allow you to catch up.

“Hehehe, come on Y/N Dragon Cookie! Don’t be a slowpoke now!”

Yep. This old dragon cookie was slowing down..

The other dragons’ eyes widen at your statement, now being reminded of your old and possibly declining self.

Lychee…

They cried as they clung to you, swearing that it was a joke, they didn’t mean it…

Please don’t leave them behind…

The dragons took extra good care of you that week

#cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #cr x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak #cr kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak x reader #cookie npc x reader #light cream cookie #second watcher cookie #bittersweet dark cacao watcher #white lily cookie #dark fondue cookie #lychee dragon cookie

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sadhours · 1 year ago

Text

scumbag blues 3: turnin on the screw

gator tillman x f!oc

previous chapter • masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, misogyny, sex work, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected, facial, slapping, spitting

🤍🤍🤍🤍

Low thumping can be heard outside the bars doors, some crooning old country song plays muffled within the sticky walls of The Esquire Club. Daisy had a slow day. Every day has been slow lately. It’s about time to start picking up shifts at The Tender Trap again. The men of Stark County are being stingy or their wives are onto them. Or worse, they’ve grown bored of the easiest blonde in town. So here she’s resorted to showing up to the diviest bar in Dickinson, in hopes to make a couple bucks.

Inside The Esquire Club is dark, dim and buzzing bulbs placed like they meant for it to be hard to see. Drunk folk don’t see so well anyhow. Above the bar, there’s a fishing line hanging up a row of bras like a perverted string of Christmas lights. Not a single other vagina in this place, it’s the first thing she notices when she walks in. Which has Daisy seeing dollar signs. Imagines them above each balding head. Counts twenty of ‘em.

She smells like sweat and cheap perfume, cleaned the whole Inn with her ears peeled for that familiar ring of a bell that never came. Scrubbed the bathrooms with a toothbrush. Ironed every pair of sheets in the building. Then her Pops went to bed and Daisy changed into her sluttiest dress and cowgirl boots. Sprayed on some perfume a client gave her. Touched her makeup and walked the five blocks down to the bar. Thursday night. Means pool, she knows it’s busy.

Daisy sits up on a stool and shimmies out of her lace cardigan, tossing it up on the bar along with her purse. Another present from a client, worn at the strap. She’s certain it was purchased at the Walmart on the other side of town. The bartender smiles at her, doesn’t reach his eyes as he asks, “What’re ya drinking, sweetheart?”

“A Pabst,” she smiles, “Shot of whiskey and a pack of Marlboros. Lights.”

“You got it,” he taps the bar with his fingers before he mosies on to the end of the bar, opening up the drawer of cigarette cartons. Daisy digs in her purse for her wallet, pulling a crisp twenty from the pocket and places it on the bar, trades it for a black plastic ashtray.

The gentlemen places the pack of smokes in front of her, complimentary matches on top and slides over the bottle of beer. Pours her a shot of cheap whiskey and takes the bill. “Rest is for you, darlin’,” Daisy tells him as she tears the cellophane of the cigarette box and pulls one out, pressing the filter to her lips.

She feels eyes on her, waits for the fish to take the bait. This town knows her, knows what she is. She can’t figure out why they’re not barreling over with money in their fists. She lights the smoke and inhales deeply, missing the taste like nothing else. Daisy only smokes when she’s out. Scared that her papa would find out. She’s halfway done with the cigarette and still no one approaches her. It’s worrying, usually doesn’t take this long. Daisy pulls out her phone, aimlessly scrolls through different apps until she’s finished the smoke. Alright, looks like she’s gonna have to be more obvious. She downs the shot, chases it with a gulp of beer and turns to take in her options.

Then she feels a hand on the small of her back and lips on her ear. Thank God. She’s relieved, until she hears the most familiar voice purring, “Daisy Tallulah Way, what the hell are you doing in a place like this?”

She whips around to look at Gator, narrowing her eyes. He’s still in his vest. Seems to wear it all the time, like he’s never off duty or something. Tight white shirt underneath, biceps swelling underneath and Daisy’s gotta remind herself why she’s here. And how Gator’s discount puts it at the bottom of the list right now. Saved for desperation, if she can’t find someone else.

“Advertising, asshole. Would you get lost?” she bites back and turns back around, flipping her hair in his face.

Gator scoffs and then laughs, Daisy can’t help but face him again. He’s got this smug look on his face when he says, “Business been slow for ya?”

Looks like he has something to do with it. Daisy takes a deep breath, “Yeah, Gator. You been too busy running around for your daddy. Almost like you’re paying him for some ass, now.”

His face contorts in disgust and then he laughs, loud and deep as he takes a seat next to her.

“Gator, I’m not kidding. Fuck off, you’re gonna scare ‘em all away,” Daisy seethes at him, brow furrowed.

“Aw, don’t worry,” he shrugs, “I got a feeling no one’s gonna bite tonight. Besides, aren’t ya curious why I ain’t been around?”

“No,” she replies, reaching for the pack of cigarettes again. Though, she really is. She’s actually missed Gator. Besides, even with his discount and all, she’s down $1000 since he’s been awol. Not to mention, she hasn’t had an orgasm in two weeks.

“Shame,” Gator pouts his lips, “Here I thought you liked me.”

“Can’t stand you unless you pay me to,” Daisy rolls her eyes as she lights up another cigarette.

“Donny!” Gator calls, “Stark County Sheriff’s Deputy walks in and you forget how to do your fucking job?”

The bartender stops mid conversation with a patron as he stares back at Gator, grinds his molars something fierce before grabbing the bottle of Jack and walks back down to Gator’s end of the bar. Pours him a shot, leaves the bottle and sarcastically quips, “Sorry, your majesty.”

Daisy hates the way Gator’s power goes straight to her pussy. Hates the way he owns this fucking town. And especially hates the excitement she feels when he talks like that to people. She doesn’t get it. It’s not daddy issues like everyone says. Earl’s the best father anyone could have. But something has to cause the attraction she has to Gator’s general assholery. Perhaps she’s just stupid. It’s crossed her mind before.

Gator downs the shot and grimaces, “I’m courtin’ someone.”

It’s a knife in her heart. Deep and twists around. Though, it shouldn’t be. Gator told Daisy so many times how he wouldn’t ever date her, how she’s tainted, how his wife has to be pure and Daisy’s anything but pure. Forgets he paid her to take his virginity on his fucking eighteenth birthday. Made her promise not to tell anyone the fucking all star quarterback was a virgin. And it wasn’t like Gator couldn’t get it for free. There was a reason he showed up at the Inn that day. She’s been trying to figure out what that is since that day.

“Good for you,” she rolls her eyes, swiping the bottle of Jack and pouring herself a shot from it. Takes it with a straight face and turns away from Gator.

“She just transferred from Fargo. Works at the station,” he continues, arms on the bar top.

“I don’t care. I seriously need you to like, go anywhere else. I’m working,” Daisy says without turning to him.

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone’s gonna solicit you for sex when I’m sitting here,” Gator sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. Daisy closes her eyes before she turns to him.

He smiles, biting his lower lip as she gives him her full attention. She wants to smack him across the face but she knows Gator likes that, so she won’t do it unless he pays her. She knows all his dirty, kinky little secrets so why is she letting him have all the power here? Because Gator can just as quickly turn it on her, arrest her and tell her dad just exactly what she does for a living.

“Tell me about her,” she says, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray.

He smiles, licking his lips as he drums his fingers against the bartop, “Name’s Faye. Smokeshow. Innocent as hell. Virgin, I’m pretty sure. Just took her home, had a nice date.”

“So it’s just been you and your hand the last two weeks… huh,” it’s Daisy’s turn to smile smug.

“Yeah…” Gator looks pensive suddenly, like he hadn’t thought about that. “She’s uh… not gonna offer none of that up unless she’s got a ring, I’m assuming.”

“Shame,” Daisy pouts, tilting her head. “I put out on the first date.”

“Why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free?” Gator argues and Daisy can’t hold back her laugh.

“Gator, honey, you been buying the milk. It ain’t free,” she pats his bicep, shaking her head with a bright smile. Gator scowls.

“You know what I mean.”

Daisy nods, still smiling, “Just ‘cause you’re in the market for a cow, don’t mean you can’t get some milk when ya need it. In fact, most the men buying my milk have a cow at home. But my milk is better. And who’s to say, Gator, that when you get that cow, that her milk’s not sour? Best to sample the milk before you buy the cow.”

“Dumb analogy,” Gator mumbles, defeated as he reaches over for Daisy’s beer and takes a swig.

“So I can expect ya back soon?” Daisy giggles, leaning against Gator’s bicep.

“Finish your beer, you can give me some of that milk at home,” Gator sighs.

—

Daisy’s been in Gator’s bedroom before. She’s helped him feed his snake before. But they were younger. Hasn’t been here in years. It’s quiet. Lonely. She knows he’s mostly alone here. Figures that’s why he’s at the inn several times a week. Likes the company more than the sex.

“Here,” he hands her a glass, full halfway of whiskey.

She takes it, sips slowly as she sits on the edge of his bed and looks around. It’s not changed at all since she’d been here last. Gator changes in front of her, into some pajama pants and a worn shirt. Hands her another to wear. She puts the glass on his metal nightstand and kicks her boots off. This is weird. Like he wants her to sleep over. It’s a long drive to the Inn but she doesn’t understand why he didn’t just take her there. Daisy pulls her dress up and over her head, exposing her matching lingerie set underneath. Gator lips quirk the side when he sees it. Smoothes his fingers against her thigh as he admires her body.

“Sexy,” he hums.

“Told ya, I was advertising,” she giggles.

“Reds a good color on you,” he mumbles, “almost a shame to take it off ya.”

“Then don’t,” Daisy replies, biting her lip, “Fuck me in it.”

Gator licks his teeth, “As tempting as that is…” he lifts the worn shirt he handed her, “I wanna fuck you in nothing but this.”

Daisy meets his beautiful brown irises, the look in his eyes takes the air from her lungs. Tender, almost. Something only Gator gives her, though it’s fleeting. He reaches behind her and unclasps her bra, then trails his fingers down to the lacy thong holding her hips and drags them down her thighs. She kicks them off and Gator lowers himself between her legs, on his knees at the floor. He spreads her knees and squeezes them, “Put my shirt on.”

Daisy pulls it over her head, letting Heather gray cotton fall down her chest as she loops her arms in it. Gator wraps his fingers around the backs of her knees and pulls her closer to the edge. Her head is swimming, no man has ever eaten her out and it seems like that’s where Gator’s going with this. He bites at her thigh, looking up at her with desire blown eyes. Gator looks so… pretty like this. His hair slicked back, soft clothes. Sleep clothes. Tender. Domestic. God, maybe all he wanted was this. Daisy wishes she could drop everything and give him exactly that. But Gator doesn’t ever pay for the girlfriend fantasy. Has he secretly wanted it?

Daisy smooths her hand over his head, attempting to mess up his gelled locks. “You look nice down there,” she whispers, cheeks flushing.

“Yeah? Should I be down between your legs more often?” He chuckles.

“Please,” she pleads.

Gator bites her thigh as he squeezes the other ones, “Maybe you oughta be paying me then.”

“Might have to if you’re any good at it,” Daisy quips.

Gator hums and plants sloppy kisses up her thigh until his mouth is dangerously close to her cunt. Daisy can feel his breath against her sex, her hips jerking toward him. Gator licks a broad stroke up her slit and she moans, a sound of surprise and pleasure. His tongue is firm and wonderfully soft at the same time. Gator treats her pussy like her mouth, makes out with it with fervor. Licking, kissing and sucking until Daisy’s rutting up against his face, leg hooked up on his shoulder and fingers ruining his slicked back hair. His nose brushes against her clit as he fucks her hole with his tongue.

“Gator! Oh, god,” she cries out, falling back against the mattress as she writhes in ecstasy. It’s a feeling like no other. Euphoria filling her veins, orgasm building rather quickly as Gator’s tongue files through her folds and flicks against her bundle of nerves. Wraps his lips around her clit and sucks, head nodding into the motion and Daisy’s practically weeping. Thighs against Gator’s ears, grinding up against his face. It’s soaking wet, her pussy absolutely drenched in slick and Gator’s saliva. Feels it dripping down to her asshole.

“Gonna— holy fuck, Gator!” she shrieks, her hands shoving his face against her cunt as her orgasm hits her like a train. She seizes, squeezing his head with her thighs as the waves of euphoria wash through her violently. “Fuuuck!”

Gator’s like a man starved, she can hear him groaning and moaning against her cunt while he licks and sucks. Finally, her body relaxes. Legs going limp as the grip on Gator is released. She brings her hands to her face as she catches her breath, body flushed the most beautiful pink.

He keeps licking at her sensitive clit and her body almost folds with the sensation, grabbing his head and pulling him back. “Fuck, Gator…”

He jumps up to straddle her, kissing her bruisingly as he grinds against her. He must’ve liked doing that because his cock is so hard, straining in his flannel pajama pants and catching on her spent clit. She whines into the kiss as she wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. She can taste herself on his tongue, can feel how his chin and cheeks are coated with her slick as he kisses her desperately. She grips his shirt at the hem on his back, pulling it up and over his head, breaking the kiss for a second while her fingers move to feel through the hair on his chest.

“Gonna pay me for that?” he mumbles against her lips, she can feel his turning up in a smile and she giggles back.

“God, I need the money but I can’t fucking take yours after that,” she replies, muffled against his mouth.

Gator laughs into her mouth as he grabs her hands and pins them above her head, lacing their fingers. “We can work out a deal,” he mumbles, grinding down on her, “I need something from you.”

“Fuck me, please,” she purrs, head still fuzzy and god damnit… she might be in love with this fucker. “Wanna make you feel like I do.”

Gator moans, pulling back so he can step off the bed. He pushes his pajama pants and briefs down, cock bouncing out and Daisy eyes it like it’s the only thing she’ll ever need. She sits up, grabbing Gator’s face and pulling him back into another heated kiss.

“S’cute… thinking I need your pussy,” Gator laughs into her mouth, “You gotta give me more about this Campbell fella…”

“Gator… I gave you all I could…” she mumbles back, reaching for his ass to pull him closer.

“Call him,” Gator purrs back, “Let’s set him up.”

Daisy’s dizzy on Gator. She’ll do anything for him so she says yes, hands tangled in his slicked back. She typically doesn’t make house calls but for Gator she will. And she’s in his bed anyways.

“Okay,” she pants, “fuck me and I’ll do anything.”

“Knew you would,” he purrs, running the head of his cock through her folds, “Just a greedy little cockslut, ain’t ya?”

Daisy would agree with anything at the moment, whatever it takes to get Gator’s thick, long cock inside her. She nods eagerly, wrapping her legs around his waist and Gator drags his cock back down, catching the head on her hole and he sinks in with an excruciating slowness. Lets Daisy feel every inch sheathing inside her welcoming cunt. They both release sounds of pleasure, Gator’s a low grunt and Daisy’s a high pitched whine. Once he’s balls deep, he strokes her cheekbone with his thumb. Then, he steadies his palm against her flushed cheek and in time with a snap of his hips, he slaps Daisy’s face. Her eyes widen, looking up at him stunned. Another rule of hers is broken but in this state, she can’t yell at him. Her cunt clenches around him as she squirms, surprising herself as she demands, “Again.”

Gator obliges, eyebrows rising as his lips quirk into a smirk. His palm collides with her cheek again, harder than before and he grabs hold of her jaw afterward. Thrusting wildly, he forces her mouth open and spits down into it. Daisy swirls his saliva around her tongue, playing with it and feels her body shiver as Gator’s eyes darken with lust. He forces her jaw closed and seethes behind clenched molars, “Swallow it, bitch.”

Daisy gulps it down, moving her hands to his biceps and squeezing them between her manicured nails. Next, Gator’s hand travels down around her neck and he holds her tightly. Restricting her breathing as he drills his hips into her at a remarkable pace. Fucks Daisy like he’s angry at her, even looks like it as his eyes narrow and his brows furrow, mouth tight. Her eyes roll back in her head as pleasure takes over her body, coil tightening in her stomach as a second orgasm threatens to break her. Gator’s cockhead pummels her g-spot with a steady tempo, the perfect rhythm to get her over the edge. And as she’s about to jump over it, Gator stills. Tightens his grip on her throat as he bares his teeth, Daisy’s eyes flying open to catch it.

“You’re nothing but a fucking hole to me,” he spits out, “Understand?”

Sure, it stings but she was so close and she just needs him to go back to that beautiful pace he’d set. So she nods her head, dropping her hands from his arms and grabbing onto his sheets as she attempts to roll her hips up at him. Gator grunts, grabs hold of her thighs and holds them up before resuming the brutal thrusts that knock the air out of Daisy’s lungs. A long, breathless moan erupts from her as her eyes flutter shut again.

It doesn’t take her long, flying off the edge and howling Gator’s name as she goes. Screams so loud her voice goes hoarse, body shaking underneath him as her bliss rips through her senses. Gator follows suit, pulling out and inching up her body as he jerks himself a couple of times before he’s shooting his load over his face. Makes a whimpering, sweet noise as he does it. Daisy wipes his cum up with her fingers, bringing them to her mouth and sucks his spunk off them. He collapses next to her, breathing hard as his hand pats her stomach.

Daisy sits up, looks over at him and sighs, “Alright. Drive me back home.”

“I ain’t driving,” he mumbles, “Just sleep here.”

Just a fucking hole yet she’s spending the night in his bed.

—

The next morning, Gator makes her breakfast. It’s odd but there’s a stack of cash on the table. She assumes it’s hers. Pockets it as she sits down and looks up at him, “Breakfast for a hooker. You know that’s not necessary, right?”

Gator drops a plate in front of her, “Shut up and eat.”

She laughs softly before digging in, humming around the hashbrowns on her fork. Gator sits down across from her, starts to stuff his face when Roy bursts through the door. Gives Daisy a look before he quips, “Didn’t know working girls make house calls.”

“We don’t,” Daisy replies, tilting her head at Gator as she waits for the excuse to come from him.

“We’re setting up Campbell,” he grumbles through his eggs.

“Don’t bother,” Roy pats his sons shoulder, “I got a tip, we gotta go. Take your hooker home and meet me at The Tender Trap.”

“Kinda early for strippers,” Gator frowns, tilting his head.

Roy blinks at him, eyebrows raised as he glances between the pair, “You don’t seem to think it’s too early to pay for sex, you have the right to judge a man paying for the illusion?”

“Is it even open at 9 am?”

“No,” Daisy answers, avoiding Roy’s eyes as she continues to eat. Roy scoffs and nudges his son.

“Let’s get a move on, Romeo.”

Gator sighs and stands, grabbing his and Daisy’s plates before dropping them in the sink. In his cruiser, he tells her, “You can’t come to the house anymore.”

“You brought me there,” she defends herself and Gator scowls. The rest of the ride is silent. Her dads on the porch of the Inn. He gives Daisy a knowing look as she hurries up to the house.

“Sleepover with the deputy?” He smiles, “That boy is courting you, ain’t he?”

“No,” she smiles to her dad, turns and flips the bird to Gator before rushing inside.

#gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x oc #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman fic #gator tillman fargo

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onyourhyuck · 2 years ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐏 | L.JN | PART ONE

— Prologue: “Holy shit i have a MAN THING.”

— Summary: Kim Gauel is your typical smart girl who doesn’t mess about and Lee Jeno is your typical hot sports player on the hockey team. One night their bodies swap and are forced to be each other.

— Genre: SMUT SMUT DNI. SERIES. Crack comedy(?) with romance. Body Swap trope. Swapping identities trope. Bickering to lovers. Coming Of Age. Dirty jokes incoming. Jeno is a fucking horny ball of fire. Gauel is a good girl type meanwhile Jeno is your typical frat into sports with actual personality.

— Notes: I love identity swapping trope with comedy.

— Tag List: @baehaechannie @devinitysann @toroufriteh

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Gauel thought about renting a house with a bunch of roommates she didn’t really think it would be a bunch of losers who are guys.

Every Wednesday night they open up the tv and have a whole gaming night until freaking midnight or sometimes past midnight until the sunlight comes up.

She is currently trying to study so it’s not very helping hearing screaming guys at each other.

Trotting out of the bedroom Gauel encounters a heinous sight of football obsessed boys with another gaming obsession to add on to their life bucket list. These types of people have the lowest ambitions and she hates to admit it, they don’t have anything going for them in her eyes they might be the low scum of the barrel but nonetheless the only sole reason as to why she is currently living under one roof with them is because they split the rent up.

It makes the situation easier and more adorable to split the high rent together into eight sections. Nonetheless Gauel not only feels like a freaking outcast now, she feels like she’s about to live through a nightmare now.

She steps in front of the tv causing the boys to combust loud groans complaining. “Come on move out my way my freaking Mario kart will become tenth place!” The blonde boy with a strong jawline and piercing black eyes, that would be Lee Jeno. The hockey star playing and an absolute menace on the high school team.

Jeno and Gauel never see eye to eye and whenever they talk it’s usually a bunch of misshaping insults thrown at one another.

They come from such different backgrounds it’s like comparing two different universes together. Gauel came from practically nothing with a single father who works hard labour fishing jobs and goes on sea explorations leaving his daughter to look after herself.

Meanwhile Jeno comes from a very rich part of Incheon where his father invests in truck companies and actually owns the most used truck company in Korea right now.

The young girl pushed her glasses on the bridge as she stands in front of the screen. “Can you guys keep your voices down? Seriously some of us are trying to pass our history test tomorrow.”

On the side a boy with black hair and a very noticeable accent. “Yeah — that someone being only you in this world.”

Gauel glares when the boys collectively laugh finding Mark’s side comment hilariously true. Which it is but that was no need to invalid her freaking complaint.

“Ha ha very funny.” She dryly replied and Jeno smirks widely checking her up and down. Now noticing the attire of what Gauel wore it was a simple pairs of shorts and a tank top which reveals enough cleavage and the sheer thin looking legs.

He whistles looking down. “You wouldn’t mind giving us a little twirl if you’re going to stand there looking pretty,” he soft leans adding. “Right?”

Gauel forms a display series of disgust and anger on her beautiful face as she wore the glasses reflecting the expression quite well. “You’re disgusting.” She spat turning around to leave going back inside the room.

The boys collect their laughter again together she can hear their voices finding this so amusing to see how reactive she became.

Donghyuck exclaims. “Good one Jen!” Renjun chuckles. “I’m still surprised she hasn’t kicked us out yet.” The Chinese boy with lavish split dye hair with the bottom being blonde spoke.

“Ehh. She was desperate and she knows we are loaded so who wouldn’t? On the plus side now we can party as much as we want without our parents being on our asses.”

Chenle whistles grabbing the remote controller of the Mario kart they were playing for hours now. “Just saying. If you’re not going to hit that soon, I might.” He retorts mentioning an emphasis on Gauel’s door as he widely smirks.

Donghyuck widens his eyes wowing again. “What no way?” He screams a little unable to contain the shocking truth from his friend. He leans whispering to Chenle. “You mean HER?”

He gave a strong nod smirking at the thought of actually hooking up with the smartest girl in their high school who’s known for a strict ‘no dating policy’ considering she puts on more focus on the studies than actual socialising or having fun per say. To have a popular boy want to actually do things with her was a surprise — but to have Zhong Chenle say that? Geez his friends were bewildering.

Jeno frowns. “I don’t know what you see exactly in her Zhong. I mean let me get this straight.” Turning around the blonde boy faces his friend with a serious expression unable to shake the idea even out. “You’re wanting to sleep with Kim Gauel the girl who’s never kissed a guy probably in her entire freaking life, only knows how to study and become a teacher’s pet — and has no friends. At all.”

“And she doesn’t even look that good!” Jeno shrugs not quite getting on the couch yet but still moving a lot.

Chenle cockily responds shaking his eyebrows in pleasure. “The innocent and smart ones are the way to go.”

“Trust me boys on this one.” Chenle said convincingly.

Donghyuck blurts out. “As long as it’s not Jaemin’s type in girls I think you’re good on my part.” The boy looks over to him with a side-glare enough to burn a hole into Donghyuck. “Elaborate on what my type exactly is?”

“Whores with chlamydia.” He says with a fake smile. Jaemin the one with a side part on the hair gets up rolling up the sleeve to the shirt as he darkly exhales. “Yah Lee Donghyuck.”

“Your type isn’t any better. You’re the one who slept with a woman over the age fifty.” Jaemin smartly puts out causing Donghyuck and him to play punch each other and near-strangle themselves on the floor.

Jeno laughs watching his friends fight knowing they will make up in a bit or two only you had to wait it out to see their stupid faces come together once more. Mark taps on Jeno’s shoulder as he would point the daggers to the door opening when looking over Jeno saw the young girl coming out going to the bathroom with a towel in arm and a bunch of products in the other.

Mark smirks. “You can’t deny she has a cute face.” He said trailing as Gauel was no longer in the frame.

“Cute face but nothing going underneath.” Jeno said in a matter of insulting her as he looks away. “And not my type at all. I prefer — sexy girls. You know like Kim Jennie in class A3.”

“There’s nothing in this world that would make me feel anything for that annoying nerd.”

‘And there’s nothing that will make me love you, Lee Jeno.’ Gauel thought with determination with an ear to the door eavesdropping on the conversation.

‘They’re just a bunch of womanisers.’

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A new arrives just like any other but leaves a straining taste on the tongue surfacing soon to reality when waking up from the deep slumber in depths that felt like a heavenly surge dream but now deforms to a long lasting images of hell.

Rolling off the bed Gauel walks out of her bedroom groaning with half asleep eyes barely opening, only seeing blurriness and using hands to move around to get inside the bathroom.

And when she did she sat on the toilet sliding off the pyjama shorts and rubs the eyes with the palm groaning once again. “God I hate mornings.” She said reaching the toilet paper but once she did.

The legs spreading a little open she soon realised who she was. Gauel looks around gasping letting the toilet paper drop rolling on the ground completely leaving a trail of white toilet paper in a circular motion. She shakily looks in between the legs to see well something that shouldn’t even be logical possible —

A man thing, was all that came into her head as she stood up going to the mirror to check who’s identity it was.

She stood being Lee Jeno.

“Holy shit i have a MAN THING!”

But the minute she yelled out having a voice deeper octaves than before it sounded exactly like Jeno — it’s like SHE WAS Lee Jeno and no longer the girl she was before.

The bathroom door re-opens and she saw her own body now standing that has left her own very room shockingly watching Gauel with widen eyes pointing at her own chest.

“Holy mother-of-God I have TITS WOWSA!”

She glares shouting in absolute disbelief and shock to see what was happening; they swapped bodies.

They swapped lives out of nowhere, out of any triggering factor that could be causing this to happen.

Jeno was in her body and Gauel was in his body.

However the boy now stuck in a girl body was fondling the breasts in amazement he had widen eyes of fascination as he exclaims trailing a bunch of ‘Whoas’ and ‘Wows’ enough to irritate Gauel and come forward pointing at him.

“Yah don’t touch my breasts like that!” Gauel yells out reaching over to smack his hands off her own precious body.

Jeno looks down at Gauel seeing the shorts she wore that belongs to his a very vibrant bump on the crotch and he croaks out teasingly adding seeing one eyebrow wiggle.

“Oh look at you,” the blonde boy starts. “Something for you excited this morning or what?”

Gauel was confused what he meant but when seeing the boy’s eyes go down to the crotch area she hesitantly looking down puts up her palms on the crotch in panic rushing to her face.

“I- w-what is happening why are you getting hard?” Gauel fumbles upon the sentences beginning to stutter out and Jeno begins to smirk forward. “Oh no not me. You are getting hard.” He’d correct matter of factly.

“Why… Why is this happening to us. Why are you in my body? What is happening this can’t be real.” Gauel grabs her own head as she looks in the mirror finding this to be quite figuratively fucking impossible.

Jeno on the other hand turns around whistling. “I have no idea but honestly i did always wonder how it feels to be a girl.”

She glares pointing out. “I bet it’s your fault we are like this now! What have you done to me.”

“I didn’t do anything! I wouldn’t even want to be you if I wanted to be a girl I would’ve picked someone with a bigger ass and tits just saying.”

Gauel never felt so traumatised but as well as embarrassed and insulted at once it felt like a complete game loss to her and now Lee freaking Jeno has to be and act like her until they can figure out how to solve this voodoo mystery problem that’s going to absolutely be the end of her.

Another door opens causing them both to turn around and look at a boy coming in to use the bathroom but stops when they saw them.

Jisung’s ruffled up hair sideways he looks at them sleepily like he suddenly just woke up from a dream.

“What are you two doing here? Get out if you’re not using it.” He said going in.

Gauel begins to push Jeno and Jisung out now saying a repeating ‘No, No, No, No not yet’ causing the boys to be left shocked and behind the door as Gauel grabs the doorknob.

“I haven’t done my skin care routine yet.” She says seriously. This was her routine she has to continue or else it will damage her sensitive skin.

Jisung furrows at her. “Hyung you don’t have a skin care routine. The only routine you have is take a shower and brush your teeth in the morning.” It was odd to see his friend suddenly fall into a random pool of moisture and cleansing.

Jeno couldn’t help but mentally slap himself because she totally forgot she wasn’t in her own body — she was in fact IN HIS body now.

His friend is confused when the door slaps and he rubs the back of his head letting the hair run through the fingertips as his gaze turns to Jeno.

He awkwardly didn’t say anything because he usually doesn’t speak to Gauel, and she doesn’t usually speak to him either he was one of the quiet ones who did his own thing.

“Yo bro mind giving me back the tee shirt you owe me?”

He spoke freely because he knew that Jisung has his own shirt but he totally slipped out disregarding the fact that he’s a woman now and not himself which leaves him staring at a confused and broken down Jisung watching in fear.

What shirt does he own a girl?

“Uh what?” Jisung said back.

“Uhm never mind don’t… don’t worry about it… bro.” Jeno slowly trails look away and then turns around suddenly. “Wait,”

Jisung stops going back to stare at the girl who was scaring the living heck out of him.

Jeno warily questions.

“Why are you speaking informally to me?”

The taller boy with a younger baby face bows his head apologetically unknowingly he never once asked about her age and now he was scared. He assumed she was younger or at least similar age but apparently not?

“Oh… sorry… Noona.” Jisung added awkwardly.

“Ahuh better freaking be.” Jeno arrogantly said crossing arms grumpily.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Please reblog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out .

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