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em1989ts · 2 months ago

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𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐮𝐦 𝐟𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

five hargreeves x fem! reader smut

masterlist

word count: 4.2k

warnings: 18+ (reader and five are both 20), sex pollen so dubcon?, unprotected sex, breeding kink, thigh riding, fingering, oral (m recieving), hair pulling

summary: you and five, your best friend, get stuck in the apocalypse together. he's immune to the radiation that lingers in what's left of the world, but not you, so when you find a unique flower that sprays an interesting pollen at you, five is more than happy to help you out with its side affects

author's note: i have been reworking this fic for weeks because i just did not like where i was going with it every time but now i finally sat down and finished it, i think i was trying too hard to make it too detailed plotwise but now i really like it, its not proofread so i'll go back and fix any mistakes if i notice any but i hope you enjoy!

The world was different now, what was left of it at least.

You were holding on tight to your memories of what life was like before the world ended, but your headaches, growing ever more constant, made them gradually slip away.

The more obvious details were easier to remember: green grass, blue skies, animals, breathable air. You missed when nature meant beautiful, thriving life.

Now, the only things growing were spiky weeds and vines, the occasional fungi.

The air was too dry, filled with ash, and the radiation levels were too high for much to grow.

You had your theories about what could’ve happened to the world, so did the only other human still alive: Five Hargreeves.

~~~

Years ago, when you were just 8 years old, your parents believed it would be best to move directly next to the umbrella academy. They cared heavily about your safety, so heavily in fact that they homeschooled you, and almost never let you leave home. It was dreadful, for your curious nature wanted to explore your new surroundings in the city. You often leaned out your window, trying to get a peak at one of those superpowers kids who got to see the world.

One night, as you read by your windowsill that overlooked the alleyway separating your apartment building from the academy, you watched as the children filed one by one out of a bedroom window, down a fire escape, all giggling with sneaky excitement. They snuck out for the first time in their young lives, noticed you and extended an invitation to join them, and the rest was history. You got along well with the Hargreeves children, particularly Number Five.

He shared your love of retaining knowledge and the passion of wanting to explore the world, as well as prove your ability to sustain yourself independently. The two of you used morse code to speak through your windows at night, and you told each other just about everything. He told you all about his father, and how he wanted to prove him wrong about his time travel abilities. You encouraged him to try them out, to go to the future, and he agreed, as long as you came too.

On that November morning in 2002, you were waiting in the alley for him to finish breakfast, and once he ran out and took your hand, your lives had never been the same.

~~~

Now you were about twenty, realizing that spending the rest of your life with your super human best friend may be more difficult than you ever would’ve thought.

Firstly, whatever ended the world resulted in nuclear fallout, which led you to believe a giant explosion abolished the Earth. While Five was genetically immune to the radiation, with the energy that emanated from his spacial jumps, you were a perfectly average human who couldn’t resist the symptoms of radiation poisoning. It was slow, with average headaches interrupting your already rough days and confusion messing up your already decaying memory, but you both knew you couldn’t last forever in this world.

Secondly, being stuck with your childhood best friend who you happened to fall in love with was absolute torture. Somewhere along the way your immature intellectual astonishment turned to adolescent romantic admiration. Being the last two people on Earth made it so tempting for you to just tell him how you felt, but you couldn’t even fathom how’d heartbroken you’d feel if he turned you down as the last girl on Earth, you’d probably toss yourself into nuclear waste just to rid yourself from the embarrassment.

The two of you had gotten quite close over the last ten years. He held you in his arms at night, just to protect you from the cold, he made sure you were the first to eat, just to make sure you don’t starve, and he did his best to make sure your sickness wasn’t worsening, just for your survival, of course. What you didn’t know was that he was constantly worrying about you, not that he didn’t want to be the only person alive but because he couldn’t imagine a world without you. You were the only one that listened to him, that believed in him when no one else would. The only one that made him feel like he was worth something in this world. His worst nightmare had already happened to him, as he had to bury the bodies of his adult siblings, but his new one was losing you. It killed him to watch you slowly but surely grow more sick, and he wanted to defer your inevitable end for as long as possible. He was in a race against time: time travel you both out of here before you took your last breath.

The weather was a sure sign that spring was finally arriving. You believed it to be April, the ten year anniversary of the apocalypse, with the back and forth sunshine and rainstorms. Currently, you and Five were walking down the side of the freeway, dragging along wagons full of your belongings and your apocalypse buddy, Dolores. It was almost dark and you were starting to look for a not too busted up car to take shelter in for the night. The fields looked like death. They were filled with dark, spiky vines and grass that looked permanently dried to a crisp.

You adjusted the bandana over your nose, growing frustrated at its tightness, and pulled it off your face entirely. The air wasn’t as smoky as it used to be, the rain helped clear it out, and you could feel another storm on the way. Your lungs took in the air and whatever microscopic particles were floating about.

“Put it back on, Y/n,” Five scolded, disappointed in your disregard for your health.

“You tied it way too tight, it was getting uncomfortable,” you answered back.

The two of you kept walking side by side until you came across a van that appeared large enough to store your belongings and to allow you both to stretch out comfortably.

You followed this same routine every night: you’d scavenge, find a suitable vehicle or building, then break in.

As Five used a swiss army knife in an attempt to open the back door of the van, you leaned against the side doors, your eyes scanned over the fields to examine to your surroundings, looking out at the vast field of dried up plants, not expecting to see anything different, until your eyes caught on a small, bright plant growing not too far from the road.

Without a word, you immediately pushed off the van, quickly grabbing Five’s attention.

“Y/N, what are you-”

As you ran through the field, you felt the dry plants scratching your shins, creating the tiniest, painful cuts, but you didn’t care. The fluorescent flora became clearer as you got closer, eyes entranced by its glowing color before Five blinked in front of you, causing you to crash into his chest and almost tackle him. He stabilized the two of you, grabbing both your arms and holding you tight to stop you from running off again.

“Wait, Y/N,” Five started, “First of all, don’t run off like that. Second, you don’t know what that is.”

“Oh, please,” you said frustrated, trying to shimmy out of his grasp, “It’s a flower.” “Yes, I know,” he deadpanned, “But there’s no way a normal flower could grow in these conditions.”

You freed yourself and knelt down to admire the beautiful flower. Its petals glowed brightly as its orange pigments had you entranced. Five cautiously stood behind you, ready to pull you away any second, but he wasn’t fast enough.

As you leaned downward to smell the flower, the anther puffed out quickly, spraying a cloud of glowy pollen directly into your face, before the petals closed in on itself and encapsulated the flower.

“Y/N!”

Stunned, you fell onto your back, eyes wide and face burning as the pollen covered your cheeks and infiltrated your nose. Five quickly leaned over you, he had pulled his goggles down and used your bandana to wipe the pollen off your face before he noticed a drop. Then another. Then three more dripping onto your flushed cheeks.

The rain snapped you out of your daze as you sat straight up. Five cautiously held up his hands and waited for you to say something, “You alright?”

“I think?” You didn’t feel any different really, besides an oncoming sneeze.

He helped you stand up and the two of you ran back through the field and to the van, where he continued to pick the lock. Once he got it open, you both worked rather quickly to get settled so as to not get drenched. You gently placed Dolores in while he tossed in any items from your wagons that couldn’t get too wet. The two of you covered them with a small tarp before he tied them together around the tire with a rope. You jumped into the back of the van, Five following suit, and quickly shut the door.

It was dark in there. You tried the overhead light but you knew the battery ran out years ago. Other than that, the van was in good shape, with a couple dusty blankets in the back, a case of water and a small stash of granola bars which the two of you scarfed down rather quickly.

“This might be our best find in a while,” Five said, leaning against the wall, looking down at you as you laid on one of the blankets, trying not to chug the water.

He had been keeping a close eye on you since the flower, worried there was something you weren’t telling him. And he was right.

Ever since you stepped out of the contaminated yet refreshing rain, your body had felt uncomfortably warm. A cold sweat covered your body, which felt like it was almost buzzing, and a growing sensation of desire was settling in your lower stomach. You kept your eyes on the ceiling, not waiting to catch another glimpse at Five, worried about the thoughts he would give you. With the two of you sharing the small space, there was no way to relieve the pressure between your legs. You could feel his eyes burning into you, of course he’d notice if you tried getting any friction.

“Hey, look at me,” he said, breaking the silence.

You still didn’t want to face him, you knew he knew something was off, that the flower did something to you. Instead of turning your head towards him, you faced the opposite wall and closed your eyes.

When he reached over to take your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him, the action alone dampened your underwear as you stifled a whimper.

He knew something was wrong. Not only were you unusually quiet but you looked flushed and sweaty, and almost like you were in pain. As he started into your eyes, he could see how bloodshot they were, your pupils incredibly dilated.

He kept his hold tight on your face, moving your chin around to inspect every angle before you took hold of his wrist with both hands, trying to pull it away.

“That flower did something to you, I know it,” he stated, as if it weren’t already obvious, “How do you feel?”

How on earth were you supposed to answer that? The pain of not being touched was increasing quickly, and the urge to jump his bones and ride his thighs to relieve the pressure was becoming harder to suppress. You could only hold back so much longer, but you knew if you let go, your friendship would be fucked.

You finally peeled his fingers off your face, holding his hand in front of you, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself from sucking his fingers right then and there – God, what was wrong with you?

Groaning, you released his hand and turned over onto your side, sliding your hands down your face. Thankfully, your clothing was dark, so he couldn’t see the damp spot of your uncontrollable arousal leaking out of you.

Your behavior scared him at first. If that flower was poisonous, and you died a slow agonizing death as your body slowly shut down, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself knowing he could have prevented it, if only he had been more careful with you. But as he analyzed you further, he became much more relieved to piece together what the pollen was really doing to you.

The flush of your skin, the soft gasps you let slip from your throat, the way you indiscreetly squeezed your thighs together, the look of complete and utter desire and desperation swarming your eyes.

He’d seen small glimpses of that look over the years, but he’d always thought it was his increasingly delusional imagination considering you were the only girl alive on Earth, and he was nothing but a hormonal boy. He thought of those years spent feeling ashamed of how his mind could turn you, his closest friend, into an image of his own desire as he would imagine your hand wrapped around him instead of own, as he got himself off while you were dead asleep next to him.

Selfishly, he was glad you were in pain, because he was the lucky last soul on Earth who could relieve you. Although, not without a little more teasing first.

He combed his fingers through his shaggy hair, attempting to hide his smirk before grabbing your arms and sitting you up.

The way he moved you with such ease made you think about how he could move you into whatever position he wanted, and how easily you would let him.

He settled you upright against the wall of the van, you almost teared up at the feeling of his strong hands leaving you, before he started unzipping your sweatshirt.

“Let’s get some layers off you before you overheat,” he explained.

“Okay, that’ll help,” you quietly agreed, trying to keep your composure as if watching his hands undress you wasn’t torture.

“Arms up,” he instructed as he slipped off the next layer, a grey long sleeve shirt, leaving you in a white tank top.

You have to admit, you did feel much cooler, but the moments where his fingers would graze your arms was driving you insane.

He then wrapped one arm around you to lift your hips up slightly off the carpeted floor of the van, so he could remove your cargo pants with his other hand.

You could’ve screeched with excitement, though thankfully you buried your face into his shoulder to contain yourself. You had a layer of boxer shorts before your panties, but you felt exposed compared to him, as he was still fully clothed.

“Any better?” he asked, still in close proximity to you. His face seemingly inching closer to yours.

You nodded.

Not trusting yourself with words.

Not trusting yourself at all.

He knew.

Just from looking up at his face, you knew he knew. He wore the same face he always wore when he was right about something. That smug know-it-all face you’ve grown the desire to completely smother with wet kisses over the years. He knew what you needed and this son of a bitch was daring you by holding it over your head.

“Ready for bed?” he asked with an innocent voice, contrasting from the dark look in his eye.

It felt as if all those years together led up to this moment. The moment where the two of you did nothing but sit next to each other. Inches away from the other’s face. Eyes staring into the other’s, occasionally breaking free to stare down at their lips. Daring the other to be the one to break over a decade of friendship. Once he saw that glowing twinkle in your eyes, amidst the darkness of dilation, he knew you’d break first.

He caught you in his arms as you pounced on him, your last shred of composure was ripped away as soon as your lips met his. Five was the only thing on your mind.

His lips. His hands. His arms. His fingers.

Him.

You wanted it all.

The kiss wasn’t gentle at all. It was harsh and wet. The two of you had no patience, you had the rest of your lives to be gentle and loving. You wanted each other at this very moment. As you made out, he continued to peel off the last of your clothing. He lifted your hips, sliding down both your boxer shorts, tossing them into the passenger seat of the van. Before removing your panties, he moved to feel how damp you got them over the fabric. He almost growled into your mouth as he pulled his slick fingers away, finally pulling the soaked fabric down your legs.

His arms moved to cage you against him, which felt like absolute heaven, and when his hands lowered to grab your ass, dragging you across his thigh, the moan you let into his mouth was angelic.

That needy feeling between your legs finally being relieved was enough to make tears fall, cooling your flush cheeks, as his tongue continued to dance with yours.

He moved to kiss your jaw, leaving a soft trail of saliva until he moved under your chin, and down your neck, leaving harsh intentional marks.

With your head tilted up, and your mouth free, all you could do was moan as he continued to drag your bare, slick cunt across his clothed leg. You were so sensitive that every time he pulled you across the fabric of his pants, you could’ve come.

As he bit every inch of your neck, he brought his hands to lift up your top, already noticing how you’ve forgone a bra, and grasped your breasts. So engulfed in the pleasure, you’d barely noticed how you had been left to move yourself against his thighs. He swapped his hands for his mouth as he wrapped a hand around your throat and squeezed slightly, while taking a nipple into his mouth.

You gasped, rutting your hips faster against him, with one hand holding onto his hip for dear life while the other was entangled in his hair, pushing his head into your chest. As your gasps and whimpers grew increasingly higher in pitch, you began to hump his thigh with more need, chasing your high that was steadily building up.

You could feel him smiling smugly into your tit, then you realized you’d been moaning his name, begging and pleading for him to let you come.

He moved his mouth back to yours, quieting your desperate pleads as he brought both his hands to your tits, pinching and twisting your nipples, stimulating you enough to finally push you over the edge.

You shuttered against his thigh, your chest arching into his, and your moans losing themselves in his throat, you rode out your orgasm, gradually slowing down the pace of your hips until you were slowly dragging them through the puddle on his leg, sliding your slick across the fabric.

Five buried his face into your neck as you slowly recovered, arms wrapped around your middle, moving you to sit closer to the bulge in the front of his pants.

Instead of feeling relieved from the effects of the pollen, you felt the need rush right back between your legs.

You leaned back in his arms to take him in with your eyes — his messy hair, his swollen lips, flush face. He was still fully clothed, contrasting your completely naked figure.

Five noticed you scanning his jacket, coming to the conclusion that yes, maybe it was a little unfair that you were the only one completely exposed. He lifted you into his arms and brought you over to the other end of the van. Then he shuffled back a few feet and watched you sit there, naked and needy, waiting for his next move.

He then carefully removed everything he was wearing – his jacket, his now stained pants, his two shirts – and before he could remove his boxers, you crawled over and did it yourself.

You kneeled before him as you took him out of his boxers, and into your mouth.

“Fuck-” he groaned as he felt your warm tongue under his cock.

He was big. You almost choked when you tried taking him down your throat as far as you could, you just needed to taste him. He took your hair in his hands as he guided you, not wanting to push you too far, and not wanting to come down your throat just yet.

When he felt the pressure building, he quickly pulled you off him by your hair, taking a second to admire your dazy eyes and the drool dripping down your chin.

Five then tackled you, literally throwing himself on top of you, your head landing on your pile of clothes, as his lips once again crashed into yours. He quickly pinned you down and held your wrists together in his left hand, his other snuck down between your legs, sliding through your folds. You could feel his cock hard against your stomach, practically leaking onto you. His fingers were soaked as they slid back and forth, over and over, until you got fed up with his teasing and started moving your hips to feel more.

“Hold still,” he said, trying to be assertive yet laughing a little at your desperation.

“Please, Five,” you frowned, your neediness was no laughing matter, “Just put them in alread-”

You cut yourself off with a moan as he slid to fingers into you, immediately setting a strong pace, curling them to perfectly hit that spot inside you, making you squirm.

He brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles until your eyes rolled back into your head. Your orgasm was sneaking up on you, and he could tell by your more frequent gasps and higher moans, as well as your cunt tightening around his fingers. Before you tipped over the edge and the pleasure could wash over you, he pulled out his fingers, watching intently as the built up pleasure disappointed.

“What- Five!” you whined, your hurt eyes met his as he sarcastically frowned, before he smiled once again, and lined himself up with your entrance.

You’re lucky that you and Five are the only people alive, because that means the two of you can be as loud as possible. When he pushed himself in, the two of you groaned so loud it could’ve been heard from miles away. You both had to hold still for a few moments, as to not come immediately. The two of you were completely engulfed in each other, arms wrapped around the other, pulling them as close as possible. Once he started to move, you felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. Every time he thrusted into you, it sent a wave of pleasure through your whole body, as your cunt tried to suck him in.

Five had never felt so good in his entire life. He’d imagined what you’d feel like before, but you were so much better than he’d ever imagined. So tight, with your wetness drooling everywhere. He buried his face into your shoulder as he rutted into you, appreciating the smell of sex that filled the van. You buried your fingers in his shaggy hair, occasionally giving it a tug that made his dick twitch inside you.

“Ah — I’m close,” Five grunted, his thrusts sloppy.

“Me too,” you whimpered, feeling a familiar pressure that was begging to be let go.

Five reached one of his hands between the two of you to circle your clit once more, giving you the stimulation to come one more time, knowing he’d soon follow.

“Five, ahh – I’m gonna-”

The wave hit you, your body completely let go. Your cunt spasmed around Five, coming harder than you ever have before. You barely registered it, as your brain went fuzzy, but you could feel your come squirt all over your legs, Five’s as well, as he kept thrusting through the sticky mess, moaning loudly before stilling. His body shook as he came inside you, face buried in your chest as he tried to pull himself as close as possible. His come was warm, filling you entirely.

The two of you laid there on the itchy carpet of the van for what seemed like forever before Five slowly pulled out and sat up, hearing a hiss from you that ached him a little, before he watched his come spill out of you, as you laid there, completely fucked out.

He dug through his bag to find the cleanest cloth he owned to clean the both of you up with. He made sure to be as careful as possible with your sensitive areas as he wiped the come off you.

He went through your bag to find new underwear and a tank top to redress you with, before he put new boxers on himself and settled back by your side.

“You better not forget this,” he grumbled playfully as he kissed your forehead.

You smiled lightly with your eyes closed.

“How could I?”

~~~

taglist: @misakiisstupid @lveegsoi @groovydazephantom @tremendoushearttaco @spidermansfangirl @madscamp02 @beanzwritez (send a request in the inbox or comment to be added!)

~~~

#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreaves x reader #number five #tua five #five hargreeves angst #five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves x fem!reader #five smut #five tua #sex pollen #smut

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solsticehymns · 4 months ago

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paper rings: drabble

james potter x f!reader / fluff / drunkenness / muggle au

summary: james potter did not propose. you, however, are fully committed to spreading misinformation.

a/n: i've seen videos of drunk girls doing this and i giggle every time. the guy is always just so done w her bullshit. this one is for any of my girls out there who also become loud and off putting when they drink 🩷 the few the proud. xoxo sunny ☀️🌻

wc: 419

you’re tipsy. maybe even more than tipsy. the pub had been warm and lively, filled with the scent of spilled drinks and sticky-sweet perfume, and you had been thriving, chatting with everyone—the bartender, the couple next to you, some poor guy just trying to order a pint.

james had found it adorable for the first hour, but then he realized that getting you home would be an olympic-level challenge.

which is why, instead of walking beside you like a normal boyfriend, he’s carrying you down the busy london street, arms hooked beneath your knees and back, determined to get you back before you start trying to hug strangers again.

except you, being you, have decided this is the best time to cause a scene.

“HE JUST PROPOSED!”

your voice rings out, high-pitched and gleeful, carrying over the city noise. several people turn their heads, but the ones who really react are a group of girls outside a cocktail bar, who immediately start shrieking.

“OH MY GOD, CONGRATULATIONS!” one of them gasps, clutching her friend’s arm.

james does not stop walking.

“no, no, no, no, no—” he mutters under his breath, gripping you tighter as if that will somehow stop the chaos from unfolding. “she’s lying! i didn’t propose! that didn't happen!”

“he’s just shy,” you tell the girls conspiratorially, voice full of faux sympathy.

“SO CUTE!” one of them giggles, and james physically groans, like this is his worst nightmare come to life.

“not gonna marry you if you don’t get your act together, love,” he huffs, adjusting his grip on you as he keeps walking.

you gasp, gripping his shirt with wide, scandalized eyes. “OH, so you were planning to propose?”

james’ jaw tightens, but you see the way the corner of his mouth twitches upward, his pink cheeks betraying him.

“not telling you that,” he murmurs, voice low and smug, eyes flickering down at you with something secret, something warm.

your mouth drops open. “so you are!”

he grins but doesn’t say another word, just leans down and presses a quick, fleeting kiss to your forehead, then keeps moving, determined to remove you from the scene of the crime.

“okay, menace,” he mutters, voice half-exasperated, half-endearing, “let’s get you home before you start taking addresses for wedding invitations.”

you beam up at him, all tipsy and giggly and entirely unrepentant. “happiest day of my life.”

and james? despite the absolute chaos you just put him through?

he just laughs, because of course you’re his happiest day, too.

☀️🌻 masterlist

#james potter #marauders #marauders fic #james potter fic #james potter x reader #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #fanfic #james potter au #james potter headcanon #james potter oneshot #mauraders #the maruaders #the marauders #marauders headcanon

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2b4st4r · 15 days ago

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A Sirens Secret on the Sunny

Words:18,703

Warnings: non existent really, female reader, y/n

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The Straw Hats were a family, forged in the chaotic crucible of the Grand Line. You, with your gentle laughter and surprising strength, had found your place among them after the dust settled in Water 7, right alongside Franky and his booming "SUPER!" You were one of his sisters, after all, bound by shared pasts and the eccentricities of the shipbuilding world. But you held a secret, one so profound it hummed beneath your skin like a hidden melody, a truth even Franky, your brother, couldn't fathom. You were a siren.

Not the kind of siren whispered about in drunken sailor's tales, those cruel, beautiful monsters who lured men to their deaths with irresistible songs. You were different, a quiet guardian with a compassionate heart, though the ancient, dangerous power of your kind still resided within you, stirring only when the sea embraced you. Unlike the fish-men, who breathed and thrived in both water and air, and whose forms were a permanent blend of human and aquatic traits, your transformation was fluid. On land, you were entirely human, indistinguishable from anyone else. But slip into the waves, and your legs would fuse, scales would shimmer into existence, and your true form would emerge—a breathtaking, powerful creature of the deep. This was why you always avoided swimming with the crew, always had an excuse ready about your "sensitive skin," a flimsy shield against their innocent invitations. They'd never seen you truly immerse yourself in the ocean, never witnessed the shimmering shift that marked your other life.

Now, in the relative calm after the storm of Wano, as the Thousand Sunny sliced through the endless blue, the truth of your nature felt heavier than ever. The world believed sirens were extinct, or at best, horrific myths, ruthless killers whose beauty masked a deadly intent. But you were living proof of their existence, and living proof that the rumors were far from the whole story. You cooked meals with Sanji, laughed at Usopp's outlandish lies, patched up Zoro's endless injuries with Nami, and offered quiet comfort to Robin. You were the softest touch in their boisterous crew, a nurturing presence that felt antithetical to the monstrous legends of your kind. The sea, your true home and the source of your hidden power, called to you constantly, a reminder of the dangerous secret you carried—a secret that, if revealed, could shatter the trust you had so carefully built with the family you loved.

The rhythm of life on the Thousand Sunny was a familiar comfort, yet for you, it was a constant dance around the edges of your secret. Little things, seemingly innocuous, were tell-tale signs of the siren within. When Sanji cooked a particularly succulent cut of meat, your fingers often twitched, and you’d find yourself gnawing on the bone, a primal satisfaction humming deep in your chest. The others might eye you curiously, but you’d just shrug, blaming it on a peculiar habit. Sometimes, after a particularly rough skirmish, if a cut appeared on one of the crew, your gaze would linger on the glistening crimson, an almost irresistible urge to lick it clean rising within you. You always managed to stifle it, turning away with a slight flush that they attributed to embarrassment.

Your "sensitive skin" was a common excuse, a convenient shield. You’d always stay inside when it rained, even a light drizzle, claiming the dampness made you itch. And when the rare chill of winter descended, bringing with it a soft snowfall, you were practically buried under blankets and layers of clothing, a stark contrast to the others who reveled in the cold. The truth was, every drop of water, every icy flake, felt like a silent call, a pull towards your true form that you had to actively resist.

But perhaps the most striking difference was your absolute refusal to sing. Chopper often tried to get you to join in the Straw Hats' impromptu concerts, your soft voice a welcome addition to their usual cacophony. You'd always decline, a firm shake of your head, a nervous smile. The siren's song was too potent, too dangerous, a weapon you prayed you'd never have to wield against those you loved. It was a constant battle, these tiny, instinctive urges and reactions, a quiet struggle beneath the surface of your everyday life on the Sunny. Every day was a testament to your control, your unwavering commitment to keep your family safe from the true nature of the kind, caring woman they knew.

Luffy, with his boundless energy and childlike wonder, often saw you as another source of amusement, a quiet anchor in his chaotic world. He'd often try to coax you into his ridiculous antics, sometimes even attempting to share his overflowing plate of meat with you. One time, he watched you, completely engrossed, gnaw on a particularly tough piece of gristle, a small smile playing on your lips. "Shishishi! You really like meat, Y/n! Just like me!" he'd declare, completely oblivious to the ancient instinct that drove your satisfaction. He'd even tried to get you to swim with him countless times, his enthusiasm unwavering despite your consistent refusals. "Come on, Y/n! The water feels great!" he'd shout, splashing playfully, his innocent invitations a constant, painful reminder of the secret barrier between you.

Zoro, ever the observant one, often noticed the subtle shifts in your demeanor. He’d catch you staring at the ocean with a longing in your eyes, a wistful expression that quickly vanished when you sensed his gaze. He’d also seen the rare, almost predatory glint in your eyes when Sanji was carving up a freshly caught fish, a flicker that was quickly masked by your usual gentle smile. He never commented on it, though. There was a quiet understanding between you two, an unspoken respect for the hidden depths you both carried. He'd often find you in the crow's nest, watching the vast expanse of the sea, and simply offer a quiet nod, his presence a comforting silence. One evening, after a particularly gruesome fight, as he was cleaning his swords, he noticed you watching a small trickle of blood on his arm. Your eyes were wide, almost mesmerized, and for a fleeting moment, he saw something wild and untamed in their depths. You quickly looked away, a blush dusting your cheeks, but the image lingered in his mind.

Nami, sharp and perceptive, often found your quiet nature intriguing. She'd noticed your aversion to water, a stark contrast to the rest of the crew who reveled in a good swim. "Are you sure you're okay, Y/n? You really should try a dip, it's so refreshing!" she'd insisted once, genuinely concerned. Your vague answers about "sensitive skin" always left her with a tiny wrinkle of suspicion between her brows, but she never pressed the issue. She also found your constant hydration habits amusing. "Do you ever stop drinking water, Y/n?" she’d tease good-naturedly, watching you refill your glass for what felt like the tenth time in an hour. She found your gentle, mother-like tendencies a stark contrast to her own often fiery personality, and she appreciated your calm presence when the boys were being particularly idiotic.

Usopp, prone to exaggeration and a bit of a coward, found your quiet strength comforting. He’d often seek you out for reassurance after one of his tall tales backfired or when he felt particularly intimidated by a new island. He’d seen you chew on your fingernails when you were deep in thought, a habit he found strangely endearing. One time, after a particularly intense battle, you were carefully tending to his scraped knee. As you cleaned the wound, he noticed your gaze lingered on the raw skin, a strange, almost hungry intensity in your eyes before you quickly blinked it away. He shivered, attributing it to the lingering fear of the fight, completely unaware of the instinct stirring within you.

Sanji, ever the gentleman, treated you with the utmost care and respect, showering you with compliments and exquisite meals. He’d noticed your fondness for raw fish, always making sure to set aside a perfectly sliced sashimi for you, even if the others preferred it cooked. He found your lack of singing a travesty, often trying to coax you into joining his romantic serenades. "My dear Y/n, your voice must be as beautiful as your heart! Please, grace us with a song!" he'd plead, his eyes twinkling. Your polite but firm refusals always puzzled him, but he respected your wishes, attributing it to shyness. He also noticed how quickly you drank water, often refilling your glass before he could even offer.

Chopper, with his innocent and caring nature, saw you as a fellow gentle soul. He'd often climb into your lap, nestled comfortably as you read or mended clothes. He noticed your extra layers when it was cold, always concerned you weren't warm enough. "Are you feeling okay, Y/n? You're bundled up even more than me!" he'd squeak, his small hooves patting your arm. He also found your tendency to pick at your cuticles when you were nervous a little odd, but harmless. He cherished your calming presence, often seeking you out when he felt overwhelmed or sad.

Robin, with her calm demeanor and vast knowledge, was perhaps the closest to unraveling your secret. She observed you with a quiet intensity, noting the subtle nuances in your behavior. Your aversion to water, your fascination with raw food, your refusal to sing – these pieces of information, when put together, painted a fascinating picture. She’d occasionally find you staring out at the sea, a melancholic expression on your face, and a feeling of ancient longing would emanate from you, almost palpable. She never pushed, though, respecting your privacy and understanding that some secrets were meant to be kept until the time was right. She often wondered about the true nature of your "sensitive skin" and the reason behind your deep-seated reluctance to join their aquatic adventures.

Franky, your boisterous brother, was completely oblivious to your deeper secret, though he often joked about your "sensitive skin" and your love for meat. "My little sis really knows how to enjoy a good steak, SUUUUPER!" he'd roar, giving you a hearty slap on the back. He respected your boundaries, never questioning why you avoided the water, simply attributing it to a personal preference. He saw you as his kind, gentle sister, a constant source of quiet support amidst his own flamboyant personality. He did notice your peculiar habit of gently biting at his metal arm when you were deep in thought, a curious little nibble that he found oddly endearing.

Brook, ever the gentleman, found your quiet presence soothing, a beautiful melody in the symphony of the crew. He'd often offer to play a song for you, hoping to entice you to join. "Y/n-san, your beautiful voice would surely bring tears to my non-existent eyes! Yohohoho!" he'd chuckle. Your consistent refusal to sing, however, intrigued him, and he often wondered about the reason behind it. He also noticed your surprising strength when you carried heavy supplies, a stark contrast to your gentle demeanor.

Jinbe, a man of the sea through and through, occasionally felt a strange pull towards you, an almost imperceptible connection to the ocean that emanated from your being. He'd notice your longing gazes at the water, and a knowing look would cross his face. He understood the deep, unspoken language of the sea, and something about you resonated with it. He respected your boundaries, however, and never questioned your reasons for avoiding the water. He simply offered a kind smile and a respectful nod, a silent acknowledgment of the depths he sensed within you.

The rhythmic sway of the Thousand Sunny was usually a comforting lullaby, but today, it was a discordant thrum against your nerves. You stood by the railing, gazing out at the endless expanse of blue, a knot tightening in your stomach. It wasn't the usual apprehension before a new island, a mixture of excitement and caution that hummed through the crew. This was different. A cold dread, a prickling sensation on your skin, whispering of something ominous on the horizon. It felt like the ocean itself was murmuring a warning, a language only you could truly understand.

Luffy, oblivious as ever, was perched on the figurehead, his laughter echoing across the deck as he pointed wildly at a flock of gulls. "Look, Y/n! More birds! Maybe they'll lead us to a giant meat island!" he chirped, turning his wide, innocent eyes to you. You offered a weak smile, your gaze still fixed on the distant, shimmering line where sky met sea. "Maybe, Luffy," you murmured, the words feeling hollow. He seemed to sense the shift in your usual gentle demeanor, tilting his head. "You okay, Y/n? You look like you ate Nami's tangerines without asking." He grinned, attempting to lighten the mood, but the unease clung to you.

Zoro, predictably, was napping, leaning against the mast, Katanas resting beside him. Even in his slumber, he exuded an aura of calm, a stark contrast to the growing agitation within you. You found yourself glancing at him more often than usual, a subconscious desire for the steady presence of his strength. When he stirred, his single eye flickered open, meeting your troubled gaze. He didn't speak, just offered a subtle, almost imperceptible nod, a silent acknowledgment of the tension he sensed radiating from you. It was a small comfort, that someone, even if they didn't know the full truth, could perceive the shift in your usually serene demeanor.

Nami was poring over a map in the galley, muttering about currents and wind patterns, while Usopp hovered nervously beside her, offering unhelpful suggestions. "Maybe there's a treasure here, Nami! A really big one! But also, maybe a sea monster! A really, really big one!" he stammered. You leaned against the doorway, listening to their banter, trying to distract yourself. "Is everything alright with the navigation, Nami?" you asked, your voice a little too tight. She looked up, a slight frown creasing her brow. "Everything's fine, Y/n. Just a bit of an unusual current. Why? You look a bit green." You quickly shook your head. "Just a bit of a headache," you lied, rubbing your temples.

Sanji was, as always, creating culinary masterpieces in the kitchen, the scent of his cooking wafting tantalizingly through the ship. He noticed your quiet presence in the galley. "My dear Y/n, you seem preoccupied. Is there anything this humble chef can whip up to brighten your spirits? Perhaps a comforting tea?" he offered, his eyes filled with concern. You appreciated his kindness, but even the thought of food made your stomach churn. "No, thank you, Sanji. I'm alright," you replied, forcing a reassuring smile. He hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but simply nodded, turning back to his work with a sigh.

Chopper, ever sensitive to the emotional barometer of the crew, approached you with a worried whine. He nuzzled your leg, looking up with his big, brown eyes. "Y/n? Are you feeling sick? Your aura is... different." He placed a tiny hoof on your hand, and you felt a wave of genuine concern emanate from him. You gently patted his head. "I'm not sick, Chopper. Just... a bit on edge, that's all." He didn't seem entirely convinced, but settled beside you, offering his comforting presence.

Robin was on the deck, engrossed in a book, but her gaze occasionally drifted towards you, a thoughtful expression on her face. She often caught your eyes, and a silent, knowing understanding would pass between you. She knew you carried a burden, a secret that weighed heavily on you. When she saw the furrow in your brow, the almost imperceptible tremor in your hands, she simply offered a soft, "Are you finding the journey particularly taxing, Y/n?" Her calm tone was a soothing balm, and you found yourself confiding, "I just have a bad feeling, Robin. Like... like something's not right." Her expression remained unreadable, but a flicker of something passed through her eyes, perhaps a hint of ancient knowledge.

Franky was in his workshop, the rhythmic clanging of metal echoing from below deck, a familiar, reassuring sound. He emerged, covered in grease, a new invention sparking in his hand. "SUPER! My new wave amplifier is almost complete! This baby will let us hear the ocean's heartbeat!" he roared, oblivious to the ominous implications of his words to your ears. You gave him a weak smile, the thought of hearing the ocean's "heartbeat" sending a shiver down your spine.

Brook was playing a melancholic tune on his violin, the notes weaving through the air, a perfect accompaniment to your troubled thoughts. He approached you, his skeletal fingers gently brushing your arm. "Y/n-san, your usual cheerful melody seems to have quieted today. Is there something troubling your soul?" he asked, his voice full of genuine concern. You shook your head, unable to articulate the vague dread that clung to you. "Just... a strange feeling, Brook."

Jinbe, perched on the edge of the deck, was silent, his gaze fixed on the waves. He seemed to sense the shift in the ocean's mood, a subtle change that would be imperceptible to anyone else. He turned his head, his wise eyes meeting yours. There was no need for words between you two. He understood the language of the sea, and in your uneasy silence, he recognized the echo of a warning. He simply nodded, a solemn acknowledgment of the unseen current that pulled at your heart. The island was drawing closer, and with each passing knot, the premonition grew stronger, a chilling crescendo building in the depths of your very being.As the Thousand Sunny drew closer, the island began to take shape, emerging from the hazy distance like a verdant emerald against the azure. From afar, it looked idyllic, a paradise untouched. Lush green hills rolled gently towards pristine white beaches, and the air shimmered with the heat of the sun. But the closer you got, the more the unease in your gut intensified.

You gripped the railing, your knuckles white, your eyes scanning the shore. There were people, indeed. Dozens of them, milling about on the beach and along what appeared to be a quaint village square. They were waving, their smiles wide and unwavering. Too wide. Too unwavering. It was like a scene from a painted postcard, perfect and unnerving.

"Look, Luffy! People!" Usopp shouted, pointing with a shaky finger, a flicker of his usual nervousness battling with excitement.

Luffy, already bouncing on the balls of his feet, let out a joyful yell. "Yosh! An island full of friends!" He threw his arms wide, ready to embrace whatever new adventure awaited him. He glanced at you, his grin infectious. "See, Y/n? Nothing to worry about! Everyone's happy!" He didn't see the chilling emptiness in their eyes, the soulless perfection of their movements. He only saw the smiles.

Nami, ever practical, squinted through her binoculars. "They seem... awfully cheerful," she murmured, a hint of suspicion in her tone. "And there's no sign of a port, just a clear beach. That's unusual." Her brow furrowed, a slight wrinkle of concern appearing between her eyes. "Are you sure you're feeling alright, Y/n? You're looking even paler now." You just nodded, unable to tear your gaze from the unsettling tableau on the shore.

Sanji, always keen to make a good impression, was already adjusting his tie. "Ah, what beautiful smiles! I shall prepare a welcoming feast!" He fanned himself dramatically, captivated by the apparent friendliness. "My dear Y/n, perhaps some fresh fruit from this delightful island will cure your headache?" He turned to you, a warm smile on his face, oblivious to the shivers running down your spine.

Chopper, sensing your heightened anxiety, nudged your hand. "Y/n, your heartbeat is really fast! Is something wrong with the island?" he whispered, his innocent eyes full of worry as he looked between you and the approaching shore. You could only squeeze his hoof, a silent reassurance that didn't quite reach your own pounding heart.

Zoro had straightened from his nap, his single eye now fully open and sharp, observing the island with a keen intensity that matched your own. He picked up on the subtle wrongness, the artificiality of the scene. He saw the way the people moved, a strange, almost robotic synchronicity in their waves, their smiles never faltering. He caught your eye, a silent question passing between you. He knew you sensed something, something beyond the usual dangers they faced. "Something's off," he grunted, a low rumble in his chest, confirming your unspoken fears.

Robin, her hand still resting on her book, watched the island with a detached, academic interest, yet a flicker of unease danced in her eyes. "Their expressions are... uniform," she observed calmly, her voice a low murmur. "And their movements lack spontaneity. It's almost as if they're performing." She turned to you, a knowing look in her eyes. "Your intuition seems to be quite sharp, Y/n." Her words sent a chill down your spine, affirming that your primal dread wasn't unfounded.

Franky, roaring with excitement, was already preparing to lower the gangplank. "SUUUUPER! Looks like a party island! Let's get down there and show them how the Straw Hats do it!" he boomed, flexing his mechanical arms. He seemed completely oblivious to the unsettling stillness beneath the smiles, the strange, echoing silence that radiated from the overly happy inhabitants.

Brook's violin had fallen silent. He stood beside you, his skeletal frame unusually rigid. "Yohohoho... Their joy... it feels a little too loud, Y/n-san. Like a single, unbroken note, without any harmony." He tilted his head, his empty eye sockets seemingly peering into the very soul of the island. "It lacks the beautiful chaos of true happiness."

Jinbe, his massive form a solid presence beside you, had a grim set to his jaw. His eyes, usually so calm, were narrowed, studying the shore with a deep, ancient wisdom. "The currents around this island... they feel strangely stagnant. And the fish are silent." He finally spoke, his voice low and grave. "There is something unnatural about this place, Y/n-san. A stillness that is not peace."

As the Sunny nudged gently against the sandy shore, the waving figures on the beach parted, forming a welcoming path. Their smiles never wavered. The air, thick with the scent of salt and something else you couldn't quite place—a faint, cloying sweetness—seemed to press down on you. Every instinct screamed at you to turn back, to dive into the comforting depths of the ocean. But your family was stepping onto the beach, their laughter and excited chatter echoing against the unnervingly silent welcome of the islanders. And you knew, with a certainty that chilled you to the bone, that your secret might be the only thing that could save them from the soulless smiles of this 'paradise.'

The warm sand of the beach felt strangely cold beneath your feet as you stepped off the Sunny. The air, thick with that cloying sweetness, pressed in around you. It was then, as your bare skin touched the island, that the truth slammed into you with the force of a tidal wave. It wasn't just a "bad feeling" or a "strange current." It was a siren's song.

A low, almost imperceptible hum resonated through the very earth, a melody woven into the very fabric of the island's atmosphere. It was subtle, insidious, and devastatingly effective. It washed over you, a familiar, alluring pull that, even for one of your own kind, was difficult to resist. You understood now why the villagers seemed so "happy," so "soulless." They weren't welcoming you; they were utterly enthralled, their minds adrift in a sea of manufactured bliss. And the most terrifying realization: it was affecting your crew.

You could see it in their eyes. Luffy's boundless excitement, usually so genuine, now had a vacant, unblinking quality. Sanji's usual swooning over Nami was replaced by a fixed, unsettling adoration for everything around him. Even Zoro, usually so grounded, seemed to be swaying almost imperceptibly to an unheard rhythm. You had to act, and fast. You were the only one who could see the invisible threads of the song, the only one who could sever them.

Your mind raced. You needed skin-to-skin contact, a way to imprint a counter-measure, a whisper of your own protective magic onto them. It was a desperate gamble, a risky exposure of your true nature, but there was no other choice.

Luffy was already bounding ahead, his wide, innocent smile fixed on the approaching villagers. You moved swiftly, reaching out and clapping a hand firmly on his back as he stretched his arm out in greeting. "Luffy, wait! Don't run off so fast!" you chided, a false sternness in your voice. As your palm pressed against his warm skin, you focused, willing a counter-melody, a silent ripple of resistance, to sink into him. He blinked, momentarily confused by your touch, before shrugging it off and continuing his exuberant approach.

Zoro was still a few paces behind, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of Wado. He seemed to be fighting the invisible pull, a slight furrow in his brow. As you walked past him, you feigned a stumble, catching yourself by gripping his bicep tightly. "Oh, sorry, Zoro! Almost tripped," you mumbled, a small, grateful hum passing through your fingers as the silent antidote seeped into his arm. He merely grunted, his gaze still sharp, but you saw a flicker of his usual focus return.

Nami was already reaching out to accept a flower from a smiling villager, her usual wariness dulled by the pervasive song. You quickly stepped between them, gently taking the flower from her hand. "Oh, Nami, this is beautiful! Let me see if it's the kind Chopper can analyze," you said, your fingers brushing hers as you took the bloom. As you did, you subtly trailed your thumb over her palm, a quick, almost imperceptible brush that carried your protection. She looked at you, a fleeting moment of confusion before the happy complacency settled back.

Usopp, despite his usual cowardice, seemed eerily calm, his gaze fixed on the perfectly manicured trees. You approached him with a smile, feigning excitement. "Usopp! Do you think these trees have any rare insects for your collection?" You reached out, pretending to point at a leaf on a branch, but your fingers found his wrist, a firm, almost imperceptible squeeze passing your essence into him. He startled slightly, blinking. "Oh, uh, maybe, Y/n. Good idea!" His voice held a touch more of his usual nervous energy.

Sanji was bowing deeply to a group of female villagers, his heart-eyes replaced by a dreamy, unfocused admiration. You walked past him, lightly tapping his shoulder with your open palm. "Sanji, you're always so chivalrous!" you complimented, your touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, imbuing him with a whisper of your defense. He straightened, a faint flush on his cheeks, and for a second, his adoration seemed to sharpen, focused more on you than the general air.

Chopper, despite his medical knowledge, was wide-eyed, a blissful smile on his furry face, his usual concern for others momentarily absent. You knelt beside him, pretending to check his hooves. "Chopper, is your fur getting a little too long?" you asked softly, stroking his head with your hand, letting your protective energy flow into his small body. He blinked, shaking his head. "No, Y/n! It feels super fluffy!" But the vacant bliss in his eyes had receded, replaced by a slight tremor of uncertainty.

Robin was standing perfectly still, her serene expression unwavering, though her eyes held an uncharacteristic blankness. You approached her, a casual gesture, and gently took her hand. "Robin, the history of this island must be fascinating, wouldn't you agree?" you murmured, your thumb tracing a silent circle on her palm, pouring your counter-song into her. Her grip tightened, and for the first time since landing, a faint, almost imperceptible furrow appeared on her brow, her gaze sharpening as she looked at you.

Franky was already high-fiving a villager, his "SUPER!" sounding a little too loud, a little too hollow. You walked up to him, a playful punch to his metal arm. "Franky, slow down! You'll break their hands!" you joked, but as your hand connected, your fingers subtly grazed the bare skin of his wrist where his glove ended, transferring the protective essence. He paused, looking at his hand, a fleeting expression of confusion crossing his usually boisterous face.

Brook was twirling his cane, his "Yohohoho!" lacking its usual charm, resonating with the same soulless joy as the villagers. You walked beside him, and as he gestured wildly with his cane, you reached out, pretending to steady it, your fingers brushing his bony hand. "Careful, Brook! Don't want to lose your grip!" you warned, pouring your silent resistance into him. He stopped, his empty eye sockets seeming to focus, and a low, almost mournful hum escaped him, a sign that the song was beginning to break.

Jinbe, ever the most stoic, was the hardest to read, but you saw the subtle relaxation in his powerful shoulders, the slight dullness in his usually sharp eyes. You stood beside him, looking out at the overly cheerful villagers. "Jinbe, this island... it feels different, doesn't it?" you said, letting your hand rest lightly on his arm as you spoke, a gesture of shared concern that subtly transferred your protection. He nodded, his gaze hardening slightly, a familiar depth returning to his eyes. "Indeed, Y/n-san. Too quiet."

You had done it. You had marked them all, your secret entwined with their very senses, a silent shield against the siren's captivating spell. But now, the true battle would begin. The other siren, the one whose song had poisoned this entire island, was here. And she would know you had arrived.

The island, once seemingly a welcoming paradise, now felt like a gilded cage. With your crew subtly marked, a fragile protection against the siren's pervasive melody, your new mission was clear: get them off this island, and fast. The insidious song was still a hum beneath your skin, a constant reminder of the danger. You had to keep them close, where you could monitor them, where your presence could act as a subtle buffer against the siren’s hypnotic pull.

You found yourself subtly herding the crew, a quiet shepherd guiding her flock. When Luffy excitedly veered off towards a particularly vibrant patch of flowers, you gently put a hand on his back. "Luffy, let's explore this path first! It looks like it leads to the center of the village," you suggested, subtly redirecting him, your touch a reminder of your counter-song. He, surprisingly, acquiesced, momentarily distracted by your suggestion.

Zoro, ever the vigilant one, seemed to be fighting the siren's influence more actively. You noticed him clenching his jaw, his eyes darting around as if searching for an unseen enemy. You walked closer to him, keeping pace. "Do you sense anything, Zoro?" you murmured, your voice low. He grunted, "Something's... too quiet. Too perfect." His acknowledgement gave you a small measure of relief; at least his instincts were fighting through the haze. You subtly steered him away from a particularly alluring fountain, whispering, "Let's stick together."

Nami was still scrutinizing the overly cheerful villagers, a flicker of her usual shrewdness returning. You approached her, linking your arm through hers in a casual gesture. "Nami, maybe we should focus on finding a map of this place quickly. The sooner we understand the layout, the sooner we can decide our next move," you proposed, trying to inject a sense of urgency without alarming her. She nodded, her grip on your arm surprisingly firm. "Good idea, Y/n. Something about this place just doesn't feel right."

Usopp, despite your earlier touch, still seemed a little too placid. He was pointing at a seemingly innocuous tree, a vacant smile on his face. "Look, Y/n! A tree that never sheds leaves! So efficient!" You quickly took his arm, pulling him gently but firmly. "Usopp, we need to find the market! I bet they have some rare ingredients for Sanji, don't you think?" You steered him towards the main path, hoping the prospect of a new treasure hunt would snap him out of it. He blinked, a sliver of his old self returning. "Oh! Right! Rare ingredients!"

Sanji, still in a dream-like state, was bowing to every villager he passed. You intercepted him, a gentle hand on his back. "Sanji, my dear, perhaps we should explore the other side of the village? I hear their pastry shops are divine!" You steered him away from a group of particularly alluring, yet vacant-eyed, women, hoping to re-engage his passion for cooking over a generalized enchantment. His eyes, though still a little distant, gained a faint spark of his usual fervor. "Pastries, you say? Lead the way, Y/n-chan!"

Chopper was still wide-eyed, a gentle sigh escaping him every now and then. You scooped him up, holding him close. "Chopper, let's look for some new medicinal herbs! I bet this island has all sorts of unique plants!" You kept him cradled against your chest, his small body a comforting weight, your proximity a constant reinforcement against the siren's pull. He snuggled into you, his gaze still a little unfocused, but the worried whine had returned to his voice.

Robin's eyes, though still serene, held a newfound keenness. She seemed to be observing the effects of the song on the others, her mind already working to decipher its patterns. You walked beside her, your shoulder brushing hers. "Robin, do you think there's a central point to this island's... atmosphere?" you whispered, keeping your voice low. She met your gaze, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Likely. A source. We should aim for it, or away from it, depending on its nature." You subtly guided her towards the village square, where the song felt strongest, hoping to find its source and then, its weakness.

Franky, despite his earlier "SUPER!" exuberance, was now merely giving enthusiastic thumbs-ups to the villagers, his usual boisterous energy subdued by the pervasive calm. You wrapped an arm around his waist, tugging him gently. "Franky, let's find the best place for a SUPER! view of the island! We need to scout ahead!" You played on his ego, hoping to re-energize him and get him moving purposefully. He blinked, shaking his head slightly. "A SUPER! view, you say? Excellent idea, Y/n-sis!"

Brook had started humming the siren's tune himself, a soft, ethereal melody that sent shivers down your spine. You quickly reached out, gently putting your hand over his mouth. "Brook! That's a beautiful tune, but perhaps we should save our performances for later!" you whispered, pressing your thumb against his jaw, infusing him with a stronger dose of your counter-song. He stopped humming abruptly, his skeletal frame shuddering slightly. "Yohohoho... Forgive me, Y/n-san. I... I seem to have lost myself for a moment."

Jinbe was the anchor. His powerful frame seemed less affected than the others, his resolve seemingly shrugging off the insidious melody. You walked beside him, your arm brushing his. "Jinbe, we need to locate any sources of fresh water, and a safe harbor. Quickly," you stated, cutting straight to the most urgent tasks. He nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Understood, Y/n-san. This island does not sit well with the ocean's heart. We should make haste." His steady presence was a quiet comfort, a testament to the fact that not everyone was falling under the spell.

You kept them moving, a subtle pressure, a constant presence. The smiles of the villagers grew wider, more unnerving, as you traversed the village, their vacant eyes following your every move. You knew the other siren was aware of your presence now. The game had begun. And you had to get your family off this island before her song swallowed them whole.

As you guided the Straw Hats deeper into the island's central square, the eerie atmosphere intensified. Here, the "happiness" wasn't just wide smiles and vacant eyes; it was absolute, chilling control. The villagers moved with an unsettling synchronicity, their steps falling in perfect unison, their arms swaying as if pulled by invisible strings. They were more than just enthralled; they were puppets, their wills utterly subsumed by the siren's song. The cloying sweetness in the air was thicker here, almost suffocating, and the low hum vibrated directly in your bones. You were close. Too close. The source of the siren's power was undoubtedly within this square, and every fiber of your being screamed to turn and run, but your family was here, caught in the invisible web.

Luffy, despite your earlier touch, seemed to be fighting a stronger pull. His usual boundless energy was subdued, his movements a little stiff. He was trying to point at a large, intricately carved monument in the center of the square, but his arm seemed to move sluggishly. You quickly intervened, guiding his hand gently back down. "Luffy, let's just observe for now. We don't want to disturb anything on such a peaceful island," you said, your voice carefully neutral, subtly pressing your palm against his back to reinforce your counter-song. He blinked, a flicker of confusion in his eyes before the placid smile returned.

Zoro stood rigidly, his hand still on his sword hilt, his brow deeply furrowed. He was clearly feeling the increased intensity of the song, his formidable will battling against it. You moved to stand beside him, your shoulder brushing his, a silent anchor. "This is quite a display, isn't it?" you murmured, injecting a calm you didn't feel into your voice. He grunted, his gaze sharp and wary, scanning the unnervingly synchronized villagers. "Too much of a display. It's fake." His clarity was a small victory, a testament to the strength of his spirit and your protective touch.

Nami's eyes were wide, and you saw a definite unease now, her initial suspicion growing into full-blown alarm. She clutched your arm, her grip tight. "Y/n, this is not right. They're like... zombies! What is going on?" she whispered, her voice laced with fear. You squeezed her hand reassuringly, subtly tracing a reinforcing pattern on her skin. "I'm not sure, Nami, but we need to keep moving. Let's find somewhere safe to gather our thoughts." You gently but firmly pulled her along, trying to convey urgency without revealing the true, magical nature of the threat.

Usopp was trembling, his eyes darting frantically between the synchronized villagers. He was finally starting to look like his usual terrified self, a welcome sign that your imprint was battling the song's effects. "Th-they're doing a weird dance, Y/n! A really creepy dance! This isn't normal!" he stammered, clinging to your shirt. You patted his shoulder firmly, letting your essence flow into him. "It is strange, Usopp. That's why we need to quickly finish our errands and get off this island." You tried to instill a sense of urgency.

Sanji, though still dreamy, seemed to be struggling with the song's pull. He was trying to light a cigarette, but his movements were oddly jerky, almost robotic. You took his hand, gently guiding the lighter to the cigarette. "Sanji, perhaps a walk would help clear your head? This air is... thick," you suggested, your fingers lingering on his, reinforcing your protection. He inhaled deeply, a slight shudder passing through him. "Thick... yes, Y/n-chan. A walk would be... splendid." His eyes held a renewed, though faint, spark of his usual charm.

Chopper was pressed against your side, his little body quivering. He was making soft, distressed whimpers, clearly overwhelmed by the intense atmosphere. You scooped him up again, holding him close to your chest, your hand gently stroking his head. "It's alright, Chopper. We'll be out of here soon," you murmured, pouring all your focus into keeping the siren's song from fully engulfing his innocent mind. He buried his face in your shoulder, whimpering softly.

Robin's analytical gaze was fixed on the monument at the center of the square, a thoughtful, almost calculating expression on her face. Her eyes, though still fighting the song's dulling effect, were sharp. "This architecture... it's unlike anything I've encountered before," she stated calmly, her voice low. You nodded, sensing her focus on the source. "Yes, it's very... unique. We should study it closely, but quickly." You leaned closer, subtly touching her arm, reinforcing your silent connection, knowing she was close to piecing it together herself.

Franky, who had been giving thumbs-ups, now seemed to be glitching, his movements stiff and delayed. He tried to let out a "SUPER!" but it came out as a strained gurgle. You wrapped an arm around his waist, tugging him. "Franky, let's find the main dock! We need to prepare for departure!" you urged, making sure your hand contacted his skin as you pulled. He blinked, shaking his head. "Departure... SU-SU-SUPER!" His voice was still off, but the command seemed to pierce through the fog.

Brook had completely stopped his attempts at humming. His skeletal hand was clutching his violin, and a faint, almost mournful, wail escaped his non-existent lungs. "Y-Y/n-san... This sound... it's like a lament, yet so... compelling. My soul feels like it's being drawn to it..." he whispered, clearly in distress. You quickly took his hand, squeezing it. "Don't listen, Brook! Focus on my voice! We need to find the quickest way out of here!" You tried to ground him with your touch and voice.

Jinbe's eyes were grim, his massive form exuding a quiet resistance. He wasn't overtly affected by the synchronization, but you could see the effort it took. He watched the villagers with a deep concern. "This is not natural, Y/n-san. Their spirits are not their own." He turned his gaze to the monument, a silent understanding passing between you. "The source is close. We must resolve this quickly." His resolve was a comfort, but it also told you the danger was escalating.

You pushed them onward, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. The siren's song was like an invisible current, flowing stronger here, threatening to sweep them away. You were the only one holding them to reality, their silent guardian against a danger only you could truly comprehend. You had to find the source of the song, disable it, and get your family off this cursed island before it was too late.

The hum of the siren's song in the main square intensified, a palpable pressure against your very soul. You kept your movements deliberate, your focus entirely on subtly herding your crew towards the monument at the square's heart, convinced it was the source of the enchantment. The villagers, moving with disturbing precision, swayed and stepped in perfect, soulless rhythm.

Suddenly, one of them, a woman with eyes as blank and blue as glass beads, veered slightly from her synchronized path. It was an almost imperceptible deviation, but in the unnerving precision of the square, it was a seismic event. She bumped into your shoulder, a fleeting, accidental touch.

The instant her skin met yours, a jolt, like static electricity, shot through you. And then, she froze.

Her eyes, moments ago vacant, snapped open, wide and wild with terror. Her body stiffened, breaking the eerie unison of the crowd. A choked gasp escaped her lips, then a guttural scream that ripped through the silent, enchanted air. "What the hell is going on?!" she shrieked, her voice raw with a sudden, horrifying lucidity. Her gaze darted frantically around the square, taking in the serene, unmoving faces of her fellow villagers, the grand monument, and then, for a terrifying second, locking onto your own. Recognition, and a profound, primal fear, flashed in her eyes—the raw, agonizing terror of someone suddenly waking from a nightmare into a living hell.

Then, just as quickly as she’d woken, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The sudden outburst shattered the eerie calm, jolting the Straw Hats.

Luffy's head snapped towards the fallen woman, his eyes wide. "Huh? What happened to her?" he questioned, his voice lacking its usual cheer, a hint of genuine confusion.

Nami gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "She just... collapsed! What was that scream?" Her eyes darted around, her usual fear-fueled caution replacing the lingering placidness.

Usopp let out a high-pitched yelp, stumbling back and clinging to Chopper. "She said 'what the hell'! This island is definitely cursed!" Chopper, still in your arms, whimpered, his small body trembling.

Sanji rushed forward, his chivalrous instincts overriding the lingering enchantment. "My lady! Are you alright?!" he cried, bending over the unconscious woman.

Zoro's hand was already on the hilt of his sword, his gaze hardening. "Something's moving," he grunted, scanning the crowd, who, eerily, continued their synchronized movements as if nothing had happened.

Robin's eyes, now fully sharp, focused on the fallen woman, then on you. A flicker of understanding, a quiet dawning of suspicion, crossed her face.

Franky let out a surprised "OUCH!" as he almost tripped over his own feet, momentarily breaking from the synchronized shuffle. "What was that, Y/n-sis?!"

Brook's jaw dropped, his empty eye sockets wide. "Yohohoho... Her spirit was screaming, Y/n-san! It was like a chord of pure terror!"

Jinbe's face was grim. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping the villagers, then the monument, his hands clenching into fists. "This is a direct assault on the mind. A powerful one."

Only you knew. The touch, the brief skin-to-skin contact, had been enough. Your own protective magic, a potent counter-song that hummed deep within your siren blood, had briefly overridden the other siren's enchantment. It was like tuning a radio to a different frequency, momentarily cutting through the static of their control. She had woken, just for a moment, to the full horror of her reality.

Your heart hammered against your ribs. The other siren, the one who controlled this island, now knew you were here. Your powers, dormant for so long, were now directly clashing with hers. Her song might have enslaved an entire island, but your own magic, refined by years of desperate suppression and fueled by an instinct to protect your family, could rival hers. The real confrontation was about to begin. The air in the square thickened, feeling charged, almost as if the very atmosphere was humming a challenge. There was no hiding now.

The sudden, piercing scream and the sight of the collapsed woman had effectively shattered the remaining vestiges of the siren's placid song for the Straw Hats. The illusion of a peaceful paradise crumbled, replaced by a raw, escalating panic.

"She just... she just woke up and then fainted!" Usopp shrieked, scrambling behind Franky's legs. "This island is definitely haunted! It's a ghost island! A screaming ghost island!" Chopper buried his face in your shoulder, trembling violently.

Sanji, still kneeling by the unconscious woman, looked up, his face pale. "She's just breathing... but she's completely out cold."

Zoro, his hand now fully gripping his sword, surveyed the unnervingly serene villagers, a low growl escaping him. "They didn't even flinch. Something's seriously wrong with these people."

Nami, however, wasn't looking at the villagers or the unconscious woman. Her gaze was fixed on you, a flicker of intense concentration in her eyes. Her brow furrowed, piecing together fragments of memory. Your strange aversion to swimming. Your odd, subtle redirection of the crew as they stepped onto the island. The way you'd subtly touched each of them. And now, this.

"Wait a minute," Nami murmured, her voice cutting through Usopp's panicked whimpers. "That woman... she bumped into Y/n right before she screamed. Right?" Her eyes, sharp as a hawk's, narrowed. "And Y/n touched us all when we first got off the ship, didn't you?"

The crew, their initial shock giving way to bewildered glances, slowly turned to you.

"Yeah, Y/n-sis was all over us!" Franky boomed, though his usual jovial tone was laced with confusion. "Trying to keep us from running off, I guess!"

"You did, Y/n-san," Brook added, his voice unusually serious. "I remember you touching my hand when I was... humming that strange melody."

Luffy, his curiosity piqued by Nami's observation, bounced on the balls of his feet. "So if Y/n touches them, they wake up?" His eyes gleamed with a mischievous, experimental glint. Before anyone could react, he darted towards a nearby villager, a man standing with a blissful, empty smile.

"Hey!" Luffy yelled, and with a quick, decisive motion, he reached out and clapped the man firmly on the shoulder.

Nothing happened.

The villager remained perfectly still, his smile unwavering, his gaze distant. Luffy blinked, confused, then tried again, giving the man a playful poke. Still nothing.

"See?" Luffy pouted, turning back to the crew. "It didn't do anything! Maybe it's just a coincidence, Nami."

Nami, however, wasn't deterred. Her eyes were still fixed on you, a new, unsettling thought taking root. Luffy's touch was pure, unadulterated, yet it had no effect. But your touch...

Robin, who had been observing the entire exchange with a calm intensity, finally spoke. "It wasn't merely 'touch,' Nami. It was a specific point of contact. And the nature of the immediate effect on the woman... suggests a counter-force, not a simple awakening." She turned her gaze to you, a question forming in her eyes, a silent, knowing look that sent a shiver down your spine.

The air in the square crackled with unspoken tension. The other siren's song was still a constant, insidious hum, but now, the Straw Hats were fully alert, fully aware of the strange, unsettling reality of this island. And Nami, along with Robin, was perilously close to uncovering your most guarded secret.

The silence that followed Luffy's failed experiment was deafening, amplified by the persistent, unnerving smiles of the villagers. Nami and Robin’s gazes were locked on you, questions burning in their eyes. The unspoken accusation hung heavy in the air, pressing down on you.

Just as you lifted your hands, a reflexive, almost instinctual gesture of defense, ready to try and explain, ready to deflect their suspicions, a wave of raw power surged through you—unbidden, untamed. It was a ripple of your true self, accidentally unleashed in your moment of panic.

The effect was instantaneous and dramatic. Every single villager in the square, from the closest to the furthest, froze. Their movements halted mid-sway, their eerie smiles fixed, their vacant eyes staring into nothingness. For a long, agonizing second, they remained suspended, like statues in a macabre tableau. Then, as one, they began to collapse, their bodies falling to the ground in a domino-like cascade, unconscious, just like the woman who had bumped into you.

A profound, ethereal melody, faint but undeniably present, now filled the air. It was a low, resonant hum, beautiful and haunting, subtly weaving through the very fabric of the island. It was the siren's song, no longer just a perception for you, but an undeniable presence for everyone.

"W-what is that sound?!" Usopp shrieked, clutching his ears. "It's so... pretty! But it's making my head feel weird!"

Luffy, his eyes wide, tilted his head. "It's like a song! But I feel sleepy..."

Sanji swayed slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face before he vigorously shook his head. "It's intoxicating... but it feels wrong!"

Zoro's jaw tightened. "An invisible enemy. This just got more annoying."

Then, Robin's eyes snapped open, a shock of recognition washing over her face. Her voice, usually calm, was imbued with a rare urgency. "This sound... it's a siren's song." She looked around at the collapsed villagers, then back at the monument. "This whole island... it's under the control of a siren."

A collective gasp swept through the crew.

"A siren?!" Nami gasped, her face draining of color. "Those mythical monsters who lure sailors to their deaths with their singing?!"

"They're ruthless killers, aren't they?" Usopp whimpered, his teeth chattering. "Cruel murderers who feast on human souls!"

"Their songs can make men forget everything, even their homes, and leap into the sea!" Brook added, his skull rattling slightly.

"But... if a siren is here," Robin continued, her gaze sweeping over her bewildered crew, "why aren't we all enthralled like the villagers? Their song is said to be irresistible." Her eyes landed on you, sharp and intensely curious. The question hung unspoken between you: Why aren't you affected, Y/n? Or are you the reason we aren't?

You stood amidst your frantic family, their horrified whispers about sirens, about ruthless killers and cruel murderers, echoing around you. Every word was a barb, a confirmation of the world's perception of your kind. They didn't know. They couldn't know. Your heart ached, a silent, painful counterpoint to the distant, alluring melody that still hummed in the air. You said nothing, your hands still slightly raised, listening to the unknowingly cruel words, the truth of your existence a silent, searing weight in your soul.

The silence after Robin's revelation was thick with dread, broken only by the faint, insidious hum of the siren's song and the crew's horrified whispers about mythical monsters. Their words, sharp and prejudiced, felt like daggers to your heart. You had to defend yourself, not just for their sakes, but for the agonizing burden of your secret.

"I... I didn't know!" you stammered, your voice trembling, a desperate plea for understanding. Your hands, still slightly raised, began to lower, shaking visibly. "I didn't know a siren was here! I just felt something was wrong with the island." It was a half-truth, a desperate attempt to shield the deeper, more terrifying secret that pounded in your veins.

Before the crew could press further, a booming voice cut through the tension. Franky stepped forward, his mechanical arm thumping against his chest. "Hold on, you guys! What are you talking about, 'murderers' and 'monsters'?! This is Y/n we're talking about, my little sister! We've been practically glued at the hip since I was a kid and she was a little tyke running around the docks!" He glared at the stunned crew, his usual boisterousness now a shield for you. "Y/n wouldn't hurt a fly! She practically mothers all of you! You think she's some kind of cruel killer after everything we've been through?! That's SUUUUPER ridiculous!"

His fierce loyalty, raw and unquestioning, warmed a corner of your shattered heart, even as the sting of the crew's earlier words lingered.

Jinbe, ever the voice of reason and vast experience, stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the unnerved crew. "The legends of sirens are indeed grim, and many sailors have met their end at their hands," he began, his deep voice resonating with authority. "But not all of a species are alike. Just as there are cruel humans, there are also compassionate ones. The sea holds many secrets, and not every creature of the deep is what the surface world believes."

His eyes, wise and knowing, met yours for a brief moment, a silent message passing between you. He didn't know your specific secret, but he understood the nuance of prejudice, the danger of judging an entire race by the actions of a few, or by ancient, fear-mongering tales. He was giving you an out, a chance for them to rethink their immediate, fear-driven assumptions.

The crew was quiet now, digesting Jinbe's words, the initial wave of panic subsiding into a thoughtful, albeit still wary, silence. Franky's unwavering defense and Jinbe's measured wisdom had bought you precious time, a momentary reprieve from the desperate need to reveal all. But the siren's song, now a palpable presence, and the unconscious villagers, served as stark reminders that the truth, however painful, might soon be unavoidable.

The brief, fragile peace bought by Franky and Jinbe's words shattered abruptly. The sky, which moments ago had been a bright, tropical blue, began to darken with alarming speed. Not with storm clouds, but with an unnatural, deepening gloom that seemed to emanate from the very air itself. The omnipresent hum of the siren's song intensified, no longer faint but a powerful, resonant vibration that thrummed through your bones, a direct challenge to your very essence.

You felt her. The other siren. Her presence was like a cold, sharp blade, cutting through the heavy sweetness of the air, a stark contrast to your own suppressed warmth. She was here.

"What the hell?!" Nami shrieked, looking up at the rapidly darkening sky, her hand flying to her mouth. "It was just sunny a second ago! Is this some kind of weather magic?!"

"The air... it's so heavy!" Sanji gasped, clutching his head. "My senses... they're screaming!"

Usopp let out a terrified wail, collapsing to his knees and burying his face in his hands. "She's here! The murderous siren! She's coming out to kill us all! We're gonna be eaten alive! Oh, we're all going to die! I knew it! This island was a trap!" His fear was palpable, his screams echoing the darkest legends of your kind.

Luffy, surprisingly, didn't seem afraid. His usual carefree grin was replaced by a look of intense curiosity, his eyes fixed on the darkening sky. "A siren, huh? That sounds exciting! I wonder what she looks like!" He stretched his neck, eager to get a better view.

Zoro drew his swords with a soft shing, his stance shifting, his single eye narrowed and focused on the center of the square. "So the real enemy shows herself," he grunted, a grim determination in his voice. He glanced at you, a silent question in his gaze, as if asking if this was what you'd been sensing.

Chopper whimpered, burying his face deeper into your side, trembling violently. "Y/n! I'm scared! That song... it feels like it's trying to get inside my head!"

Robin, her eyes now gleaming with a cold, analytical resolve, looked from the sky to the unconscious villagers, then to the monument. "The source is directly connected to her presence. She must be linked to this island in some way." She then cast a quick, discerning glance at you, a silent acknowledgment of the shift in the atmosphere and its connection to your own powers.

Franky slammed his metallic fists together, his usual boisterousness returning as a defiant roar. "Don't you worry, Usopp! No monster's gonna hurt my family! We're gonna be SUUUUPER! and kick her butt!" He positioned himself protectively in front of Nami and Usopp.

Brook, his violin now held like a shield, hummed a dissonant, protective chord. "Yohohoho! A true battle of melodies, it seems! My soul trembles with anticipation!" Despite his words, there was a tremor in his skeletal fingers.

Jinbe stood firm, a rock amidst the rising panic. His eyes, fixed on the rapidly darkening sky, held a grave solemnity. "She means to overpower us. Her song is a weapon, Y/n-san. We must prepare." He looked at you, a silent challenge and understanding in his gaze, acknowledging the fight that was about to unfold.

The air grew heavy, thick with unseen power. The scent of salt and the cloying sweetness intensified, mingling with a new, metallic tang. The very atmosphere hummed with the hostile presence of the other siren, a powerful entity who had just announced her arrival. The final confrontation was inevitable, and it was about to begin.

The sky above the square twisted into a vortex of churning, inky black, swallowing the last vestiges of daylight. From its terrifying depths, a figure began to descend, seemingly coalescing from the very shadows themselves. She was a being of terrifying beauty and primal power. Her upper body was that of a woman, but not one of soft curves; her form was lean, almost skeletal, draped in tattered, dark seaweed that seemed to cling to her like funerary shrouds. Her skin, where visible, was the color of deep ocean trenches, a mottled grey-blue that seemed to absorb the light. Her eyes glowed with a cold, phosphorescent green, devoid of any warmth. Below her waist, her form transitioned into a massive, shimmering fish tail, its scales the color of obsidian, ending in a fin that fanned out like jagged, dark coral. As she descended, a guttural, echoing hum emanated from her, a sound that vibrated through the air and burrowed into the very core of your being. It was the siren's song, intensified, malevolent, and utterly devoid of mercy.

She hovered a few feet above the now unconscious villagers, her chilling green eyes sweeping over the Straw Hats. Her voice, when it finally spoke, was a haunting chorus of echoes, as if multiple voices were speaking at once, layered in a terrifying harmony.

"Well, well... what have we here?" her voice boomed, sending shivers down every spine. "Lost little fish on my reef? Did my song not tempt you enough to join my lovely choir?" Her gaze lingered on the bewildered crew, a cruel amusement playing on her face. "Or perhaps... you are simply immune to true bliss."

You, however, knew better. Your very blood vibrated with her hostile presence. Without a second thought, you stepped forward, placing yourself instinctively a little ahead of the Straw Hats, your body a living shield between your family and the terrifying entity hovering before them.

Luffy's usual cheer had vanished. His jaw was set, and his fists were clenched, his gaze fixed intently on the monstrous figure. "She's creepy," he muttered, a rare note of genuine seriousness in his voice. "And her voice is weird."

Zoro had fully drawn his swords, his stance wide and ready. His single eye was narrowed, studying the siren with a mixture of caution and battle-readiness. "Another one, huh?" he grunted, the question aimed at you, a silent acknowledgment of the new, supernatural threat.

Nami gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. "She's... she's real! And she's horrifying!" She instinctively pressed herself closer to Franky, seeking shelter.

Usopp had collapsed fully to the ground, shaking uncontrollably. "I told you! Murderous! She's here to kill us all! We're doomed! DOOMED!" he shrieked, burying his face in his arms.

Sanji stood rigidly, his usual smooth composure shattered. He lit a cigarette, his hand trembling slightly. "What a ghastly creature! How dare she disturb a lady's sensibilities!" he spat, though a flicker of fear was visible in his eyes.

Chopper let out a terrified bleat, burrowing even deeper into your side, his tiny hooves clutching at your clothes. He was shivering uncontrollably, completely overwhelmed.

Robin's expression was a blend of profound interest and grave concern. Her eyes were fixed on the siren, absorbing every detail. "A true siren... the legends barely do her justice," she murmured, then glanced at you, a knowing look passing between you.

Franky, despite his initial shock, quickly recovered, his mechanical fists slamming together. "YOU'RE NOT SO SUPER! YOU GHASTLY FISH-WOMAN!" he roared, stepping protectively closer to you. "NOBODY LAYS A FIN ON MY LITTLE SISTER OR MY CREW!"

Brook strummed a discordant, urgent chord on his violin, a deep, resonant warning. "Yohohoho... Her voice is like a symphony of despair! Truly terrifying!"

Jinbe stood firm, his fists clenched, his gaze unyielding. "Her song is potent. It tries to seep into your will," he warned, his eyes locked on the siren. "Do not let it consume you!" He positioned himself behind you, ready to defend.

The siren's cold green eyes fixed on you, a flicker of something unreadable—curiosity? Recognition?��passing through their depths. But she said nothing, merely letting her eerie echo fill the air, a silent challenge to the one who dared to defy her song.

The terrifying siren, hovering amidst the swirling darkness, paused. Her glowing green eyes narrowed, fixing on the Straw Hat crew, and then, slowly, a chillingly wide smile stretched across her dark lips. It was a smile of dawning realization, a predatory, knowing grin that sent a fresh wave of dread through you.

A low, guttural chuckle, layered with that terrifying echo, rumbled from her. "Ahhh, I see now," her voice boomed, resonating through the square. "An old, forgotten charm. A mother's whisper, perhaps?" She held a long, clawed finger to her lips, before forming a perfect circle with them and blowing.

From her lips, a shimmering, emerald green mist coalesced, drifting downwards. As it descended, her voice deepened, reverberating with an ancient power. "Reveal what is true."

The iridescent mist settled over the Straw Hats. Where your hand had touched each of them earlier, a faint, glowing green handprint now shimmered into existence on their skin—on Luffy's back, Zoro's bicep, Nami's palm, Usopp's wrist, Sanji's shoulder, Chopper's head, Robin's hand, Franky's wrist, Brook's hand, and Jinbe's arm.

The siren's smile widened, a cruel, triumphant gleam in her eyes. "So, you are all protected from my little song, are you? What a shame." Her voice dripped with mock pity. "How utterly pitiful that you are marked. Little sheep, shielded from true bliss."

The Straw Hats stared at the glowing handprints on themselves, then at each other, a collective wave of confusion and alarm washing over them.

"My back is glowing!" Luffy exclaimed, twisting to try and see the print on his own skin. "What is this? Is it a cool new power?"

Nami gasped, staring at the glowing mark on her palm. "A handprint? It's... green! And it's exactly where Y/n touched me!" Her gaze snapped to you, a cold, hard suspicion settling in her eyes.

"Mine too!" Usopp wailed, pointing at his wrist. "It's a curse! We've been marked by a monster!" He clutched his head, his terror escalating.

Sanji looked at the glowing print on his shoulder, then back at the siren, a flicker of outrage in his eyes. "What have you done to us, you hag?! And what is this 'mark' you speak of?!"

Zoro simply stared at the mark on his bicep, then back at the siren, his expression unreadable, but his grip on his swords tightened. He then cast a quick, piercing glance at you, the silent question in his eyes growing more insistent.

Chopper whimpered, looking from the glowing print on his head to you, his innocent eyes filled with fear and confusion. "Y-Y/n... what is this?"

Robin's eyes narrowed, her gaze flickering between the glowing handprints on her crewmates and the hovering siren. "A mark... of protection," she murmured, her analytical mind working furiously. She then turned her attention to you, her expression grave, a knowing glint in her eyes that told you she was putting the pieces together.

Franky stared at the glowing mark on his wrist, then puffed out his chest, trying to maintain his bravado. "What kind of cheap trick is this, you ghastly fish-face?! This doesn't make me any less SUUUUPER!" But a hint of unease was visible in his usually confident posture.

Brook looked at the glowing handprint on his bony hand, then let out a mournful "Yohohoho... I feel strangely protected, but at what cost, I wonder?" His voice was filled with a sense of melancholic dread.

Jinbe's eyes were grim as he observed the glowing mark on his arm. He looked from the siren to the crew, then back to you, a deep understanding dawning in his ancient eyes. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken questions, with dawning realizations. The siren had not revealed you directly, but her words and the visible marks had drawn the circle ever tighter around your secret. The next revelation was coming.

A wave of conflicting emotions surged through you. Anger flared, hot and sharp, at this siren's audacity, her cruel mockery of your desperate attempt to protect your family. Fear gnawed at your insides—fear of what her next move would be, fear of the inevitable moment when your secret would be ripped bare. And a crushing worry for the Straw Hats, for their reactions, for the trust that hung by a thread, now visibly marked by your clandestine touch. Who does she think she is? you seethed internally, daring to expose my nature like this?

The siren, seemingly unfazed by your rising fury, let out a chilling, echoing laugh that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, no, little ones," her voice boomed, dripping with malicious amusement. "I didn't do anything to you. Your little shield there already did that." Her cold green eyes flickered, not at you, but to the glowing marks on the crew, a subtle hint of accusation. "She merely marked you. So you cannot fall under my beautiful spell."

Then, her gaze returned to you, a knowing, predatory gleam in their depths. "Such a shame," she murmured, her voice losing its boisterous echo, becoming a softer, more insidious whisper that still carried. "Some secrets are simply too precious to keep, aren't they?"

With a graceful, almost imperceptible flick of her hand, the air around her rippled. A light, almost imperceptible drizzle began to fall from the dark, swirling sky. It wasn't a downpour, just a gentle, insistent mist, barely enough to wet the ground.

But for you, it was a catastrophe.

The moment the first tiny droplets kissed your skin, a profound, agonizing sensation shot through your legs. A familiar, terrifying heat began to spread, a deep-seated ache that heralded the inevitable. Your skin prickled, growing intensely sensitive, and a faint, shimmering warmth radiated from your lower body. You could feel it. The shift. The dreaded transformation. It was starting.

The gentle drizzle intensified, each droplet a searing brand on your skin. The transformation, usually a swift, fluid change in the embrace of the ocean, was now a torturous, drawn-out process under the alien sky. You clenched your teeth, fighting back a gasp of pain as your legs began to fuse, the bones shifting and reforming with agonizing slowness. Scales, the color of shimmering amethyst shot through with threads of gold, began to erupt from your skin, spreading rapidly down your lower half.

Your form elongated, your legs seamlessly merging into a powerful, elegant tail that shimmered with an inner light. The fin, unlike the other siren's jagged obsidian, was broad and flowing, the color of spun moonlight edged in the same royal gold that traced intricate patterns along your scales. Your features, while still human, took on a subtle, ethereal beauty. Your eyes, no longer just your normal color, now held an oceanic depth, flecked with the same golden light that adorned your tail. You were less dark, less overtly menacing than the siren before you, a creature of the deep, yes, but one touched by a gentler current. Etched into the scales near your tail fin were the unmistakable markings: intricate, golden glyphs, the royal marks of your lineage. They pulsed faintly, radiating an ancient power.

The Straw Hats watched in stunned silence as the transformation unfolded before their very eyes.

Luffy’s jaw dropped, his initial confusion replaced by wide-eyed wonder. "Whoa! Y/n! You're turning into a fish!" His childlike amazement seemed to override any fear.

Nami gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes darting between your transforming form and the smugly watching other siren. Understanding dawned on her face, her earlier suspicions solidifying into a shocking truth.

Usopp, however, descended into full-blown hysterics. "Aaaaaah! It's true! She's a monster! A real-life siren! We're all gonna be lured to our deaths by her singing!" He scrambled backward, tripping over his own feet in his desperate attempt to get away.

Sanji’s cigarette fell from his lips. He stared, dumbfounded, his usual eloquent flirting replaced by utter speechlessness. His gaze flickered between your human upper half and the increasingly fish-like lower half, a conflict of fascination and fear in his eyes.

Zoro’s grip on his swords tightened, his single eye narrowed in intense scrutiny. He observed the royal markings on your tail, a flicker of understanding, or perhaps recognition, crossing his face.

Chopper let out a soft whimper, his fear warring with a deep sense of loyalty. He took a hesitant step towards you, his innocent eyes filled with a mixture of terror and concern. "Y/n...?"

Robin’s eyes widened slightly as she took in your transformed state, her gaze lingering on the golden markings. "The royal lineage..." she murmured, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and dawning comprehension of the power you held hidden.

Franky stood frozen, his mouth agape, his usual boisterous "SUPER!" caught in his throat. He stared at your tail, then back at your face, a look of utter disbelief etched across his features. "Y... Y/n-sis... you're...?"

Brook let out a long, drawn-out "Yohohoho..." his skull tilting as he observed your transformation with a mixture of fascination and trepidation. "So the rumors... the legends... they are true!"

The other siren watched your transformation with a mixture of surprise and something akin to disdain. Her cold green eyes flickered over the royal markings on your tail, a slight narrowing betraying a flicker of something that might have been respect, or perhaps envy.

Jinbe, however, remained outwardly stoic, but his eyes, fixed on your golden markings, widened almost imperceptibly. A low, almost reverent murmur escaped his lips. "Royal blood..." His understanding of the ocean's ancient powers, of the significance of such lineage, was evident in his awed tone. He knew the implications of those marks – immense strength, a deep connection to the very essence of the sea, a power that could indeed rival, or even surpass, the siren before them.

The silence stretched, thick with shock, fear, and dawning understanding. The gentle drizzle continued to fall, each drop highlighting the shimmering truth of who, and what, you truly were. Your secret was finally out, exposed under the darkening sky, leaving you vulnerable and at the mercy of your family's reactions.

The other siren’s cold, phosphorescent eyes widened slightly at the sight of your golden markings, a flicker of something akin to genuine surprise warring with her contempt. A low, mocking laugh, devoid of any warmth, reverberated through the square. "Royal blood, are we?" her echoing voice sneered, dripping with disdain. "How quaint. A gilded cage, perhaps? Such power, wasted on one who hides in the shadow of land-dwellers." Her cruel smile stretched wider. "Let's see if your noble lineage has given you the courage to truly embrace your nature, little princess."

With a sudden, violent surge, she launched herself forward. The air shrieked as her dark, powerful tail propelled her across the square, a blur of obsidian scales and malevolent green light. Her clawed hands, tipped with razor-sharp talons, aimed directly for your face.

You met her charge head-on. The familiar warmth of your transformation solidified into raw power, pulsing through your veins. As the siren lunged, your own hands instinctively transformed. Long, elegant claws, tipped with the same golden hue as your markings, elongated from your fingertips, sharp and lethal.

You parried her first strike, your claws scraping against hers with a harsh, metallic screech. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, momentarily disrupting the light drizzle. You moved with a swiftness that belied your previous gentleness, your powerful tail lashing out, creating a gust of wind that sent dust swirling around the unconscious villagers. Your movements were fluid, graceful, yet undeniably strong, a testament to the immense strength that surged through you. The royal markings on your tail pulsed brighter with each defensive maneuver.

The Straw Hats, caught between shock and the escalating battle, reacted in a flurry of bewildered and terrified responses.

Luffy, after a moment of stunned silence, let out a whoop of excitement. "Whoa! Y/n's got claws now! She's so strong!" He bounced on the balls of his feet, his fear momentarily forgotten in the thrill of watching a genuine fight unfold.

Nami gasped, her eyes wide as saucers, torn between fear of the attacking siren and the shocking reality of your transformation. "She... she's fighting! Like a real siren! But... but she's Y/n!" The internal conflict was clear on her face.

Usopp was still screaming, now pointing a trembling finger at you. "She's fighting like a monster! I told you! She's one of them! She's going to turn on us next!"

Sanji stood rooted, his mouth agape, his cigarette dangling forgotten from his lips. He watched your graceful, powerful movements, a conflict of awe and utter bewilderment warring in his eyes. The sight of your claws was jarring, unsettling, but the sheer power was undeniable.

Zoro's eyes were sharp, focusing intently on the fight. He saw the power radiating from your royal markings, the immense strength behind your parries. "So, you can fight," he muttered, a hint of grudging respect in his tone. He shifted his weight, ready to join if needed, but for now, he was observing the true extent of your capabilities.

Chopper let out another terrified whimper, burying his face deeper into Franky's side. "Y/n's fighting! But... but her hands..."

Robin's expression was one of intense fascination. Her eyes followed every powerful move, every shimmer of your golden scales. "Immense strength, indeed," she murmured, a scientific curiosity overriding her immediate fear. "The royal lineage truly commands formidable power." She glanced at the fear-stricken faces of the crew, a quiet understanding of their shock.

Franky, after his initial disbelief, roared with renewed vigor. "THAT'S MY SISTER! SHE'S SUUUUPER STRONG!" He pumped his mechanical fist, seemingly bypassing the "siren" part of the revelation to focus solely on your power.

Brook strummed a frantic, almost chaotic tune on his violin, his empty eye sockets wide. "A siren... fighting another siren! Yohohoho! This is quite the unexpected duet!"

Jinbe watched with a grim intensity. He had recognized the royal markings, and he knew the raw power they signified. He nodded slowly, a deep respect in his gaze. "Her strength is truly of the sea. She will not be easily subdued." He stood ready, understanding that this was your battle, for now.

The clash of two sirens, one of darkness and cruelty, the other of hidden power and desperate protection, raged in the heart of the enchanted square. The air crackled with raw magic, and the Straw Hats, utterly bewildered, could only watch as their kind, gentle companion fought with the ferocity of a queen.

The dark siren, enraged by your resistance and the display of your royal power, let out a piercing shriek that momentarily drowned out the persistent hum of her own song. Her glowing green eyes, filled with malicious intent, suddenly darted past you. Her target wasn't you, but a smaller, more vulnerable member of your crew. With a terrifying burst of speed, she lunged, not for Luffy or Zoro, but straight for Chopper, who was still huddled, whimpering, behind Franky.

"You protect them, do you?" her echoing voice snarled, dripping with venom. "Let's see how much you care when one of your little pets is crushed!"

A primal, guttural roar tore from your throat. A blazing fury ignited within you, hotter than any pain, stronger than any fear. She was attacking your family. The ancient, dangerous power that had always been your most guarded secret, your most feared weapon, surged through you, uncontrollable and absolute.

Your lungs burned as you opened your mouth, not to speak, but to unleash the raw, untamed force of your heritage. It wasn't a melody, not a gentle hum, but a scream—a pure, unadulterated wave of sound, imbued with the full, devastating power of a royal siren. It ripped through the air, a concussive force that vibrated through every molecule, shattered the very fabric of the other siren's control.

The dark siren, caught mid-lunge, froze. Her glowing green eyes widened in shock, then in agony, as the raw power of your sound slammed into her. The echo from her own voice faltered, her cruel smile contorting into a mask of pure torment. Her form flickered, briefly seeming to dissipate before solidifying again, but she was knocked violently backwards, crashing into the central monument with a sickening crack.

The impact of your scream was equally profound, though different, for the Straw Hats. It wasn't a song of enchantment, but one of raw, protective power, a force that vibrated through their very souls.

Luffy staggered back, his hands clamped over his ears, his eyes wide. "Whoa! Y/n's got a really loud voice!" he yelled, a mix of awe and discomfort on his face.

Nami cried out, dropping to her knees, clutching her head. "My ears! It's deafening! But... it feels different from her song!" She looked at you, a new wave of fear mixed with a dawning, complex respect in her eyes.

Usopp's screams of terror were abruptly silenced, replaced by a stunned whimper as he covered his ears. He stared at you, his eyes wide with a new kind of dread. You weren't just a monster; you were a terrifying force of nature.

Sanji reeled, his cigarette finally falling. He stared at you, his eyes reflecting a profound shock, as if seeing you for the first time. The raw, beautiful power was undeniable, both captivating and terrifying.

Zoro, though grimacing and clutching his ears, remained on his feet, his swords still drawn. He looked at you, a silent, knowing look passing between you. He felt the immense power, the sheer protective force behind that scream, and a faint, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment passed between you.

Chopper, though shielded by Franky, still trembled, but he looked up at you, his terrified eyes widening, seeing your desperate act of protection. "Y/n...!"

Robin swayed, but her gaze was fixed on you, a profound comprehension dawning in her eyes. "A true siren's scream..." she murmured, her voice filled with a mixture of dread and awe. "The ultimate weapon."

Franky, despite the pain in his ears, slammed his metallic fists together, roaring. "Y/N! YOU'RE SUUUUPER! POWERFUL!" His loyalty, fierce and unyielding, was momentarily shocked but quickly resurged into pride.

Brook let out a high-pitched, echoing "Yohohohoho!" that was almost lost in the ringing in his ears. "Her true voice! It's like the very ocean crying out!"

Jinbe stood firm, his massive body absorbing the shockwave. His eyes, fixed on you, gleamed with unreserved awe and respect. He knew. He had seen the raw, unbridled power of a royal siren. "Incredible..." he murmured, his voice thick with reverence. "The strength of your royal lineage is truly immense, Y/n-san."

The air still vibrated, charged with the aftershocks of your scream. The dark siren lay momentarily stunned against the monument, her own song completely silenced. The true depth of your secret, the terrifying extent of your power, had finally been laid bare before your crew. And their reactions, a complex tapestry of fear, awe, and grudging acceptance, now hung in the balance.

Your scream, raw and powerful, had sent the dark siren careening into the monument, momentarily stunning her. But she was ancient, cruel, and wouldn't be defeated by a single blow, however devastating. As she stirred, pushing herself off the crumbling stone, her glowing green eyes, now alight with vengeful fury, fixed on you. She began to gather her own power, the air around her swirling with dark, oppressive energy, ready for a counter-attack.

But you wouldn't give her the chance. The royal power thrumming through you, the golden marks on your scales pulsing with fierce light, demanded a decisive end. With a surge of adrenaline, you pushed off the ground, your powerful tail lashing, propelling you forward in a burst of speed that eclipsed her own. You didn't unleash another scream; this was a close-quarters battle, a desperate dance of ancient might.

Your golden claws raked across her form, tearing through the shadowy seaweed that clung to her. She snarled, retaliating with a wild swipe of her own talons, but you anticipated her move, twisting to avoid the blow. You wrapped your powerful, scaled tail around her, constricting, trapping her. Her eyes widened in genuine fear as she felt the immense, innate strength of your royal lineage, a power she hadn't truly accounted for. You pulled her in close, her struggles futile against your might, and then, with a final, desperate surge of raw power, you unleashed a focused burst of sound. It wasn't a scream, but a concentrated, vibrating hum directed solely at her, a resonance that targeted her very essence. It was a siren's death knell, echoing through her being, designed to unravel her magic from within.

Her eyes glowed erratically, dimming, then flaring, before finally fading. A last, desperate wail escaped her lips, quickly dissolving into a gurgle as her body began to shimmer, then dissolve into a cloud of dark, briny mist. The oppressive gloom that had enveloped the sky dissipated instantly, and the sun broke through, bathing the square in warm, natural light. The siren was gone.

As the dark siren dissolved, a profound exhaustion washed over you. The immense surge of power, the raw emotion, had drained you completely. You felt the familiar ache in your lower body, the rapid, tingling sensation as your scales receded and your tail began to split. With a soft groan, your legs reformed, returning to their human shape, and you crumpled to the ground, panting, completely spent.

The sudden return of the sun, coupled with the abrupt cessation of the siren's song, had an immediate effect on the unconscious villagers. A collective groan rippled through the square as eyes blinked open, heads lifted, and confused murmurs began to spread. They looked around, bewildered, their smiles gone, replaced by expressions of utter disorientation.

The Straw Hats, recovering from the sonic assault, watched the scene unfold with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.

Luffy was the first to react, rushing to your side. "Y/n! You did it! That was amazing!" He helped you sit up, his earlier wonder eclipsing any lingering fear or confusion about your true nature. "You're so strong!"

Nami stared at the waking villagers, then back at your now-human legs, her initial shock still warring with her logical mind. "They're... waking up! The song is gone! You really... you really did that, Y/n." Her voice was soft, laced with a new kind of awe. She knelt beside you, a hand gently touching your arm, a silent gesture of concern despite the lingering questions.

Usopp, though still trembling, slowly rose to his feet, his jaw hanging open. "The monster's gone... and the people are normal again! Y/n... you saved us!" His fear hadn't completely vanished, but it was now tempered by undeniable gratitude and utter shock.

Sanji rushed over, immediately lighting a new cigarette, his hands still trembling slightly. He looked at the normal villagers, then at you, a complex emotion in his eyes. "My dear Y/n... you are truly... something else." His usual smooth demeanor had cracked, revealing a deep sense of wonder.

Zoro sheathed his swords, a rare, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. He walked over, glancing at the recovering villagers. "So, you handled it," he grunted, then met your gaze. "You didn't lie about being strong." The grudging respect was clear in his tone.

Chopper, though still a little shaken, bravely scampered over, nuzzling your side. "Y/n! You're okay! Your legs are back! And... and you saved everyone!" His fear had been replaced by relief and unwavering loyalty.

Robin observed the waking villagers with a scientific detachment that hid a profound intrigue. She then turned her gaze to you, a knowing, almost reverent look in her eyes. "A powerful display, Y/n. The royal blood is indeed formidable." She understood the implications, and her gaze was filled with a deeper understanding of who you truly were.

Franky let out a booming laugh, tears welling in his eyes. "THAT'S MY SISTER! THE STRONGEST SISTER IN THE WORLD! SUUUUPER! You saved everyone, Y/n!" He hugged you, his metal arms surprisingly gentle, his pride overflowing.

Brook strummed a joyful, triumphant chord on his violin. "Yohohoho! The song of despair is broken! And the song of victory is yours, Y/n-san! Truly magnificent!"

Jinbe walked towards you, his massive form exuding a deep sense of calm and admiration. He knelt beside you, his eyes filled with respect. "You have done well, Y/n-san. You protected your family and freed these people. The spirit of the sea flows strong in you." He then looked at the confused villagers. "It would be best if we leave this place swiftly. They will not remember, but they may sense the lingering disruption."

The villagers were now murmuring, slowly helping each other up, their faces a mixture of confusion and vague unease, with no memory of their enchantment or the terrifying battle that had just transpired. The Straw Hats, however, remembered everything. Your secret was out, laid bare in the light of the returning sun. The moment of truth, the true reckoning, had arrived.

You managed a weak nod, a small, grateful smile touching your lips as Luffy, Nami, and Chopper clustered around you, their faces a mixture of relief and lingering shock. Jinbe's words, Robin's knowing gaze, Franky's booming pride—it was all a blur, a chaotic symphony of acceptance and confusion. The sun, warm on your face, felt like a heavy blanket. The sheer exertion of the battle, the raw power you'd unleashed for the first time in years, was too much.

Your vision blurred, the faces of your family swimming in and out of focus. A profound, overwhelming exhaustion washed over you, pulling you into its depths. You tried to fight it, tried to stay awake, but your limbs felt like lead. The world tilted, then spun.

With a soft sigh, your head lolled to the side, and you collapsed, unconscious.

The Straw Hats cried out your name, their voices a sudden chorus of alarm. Luffy, who had been supporting you, barely managed to ease you to the ground. Nami immediately felt for a pulse, her expression etched with worry. Chopper, already in Doctor form, frantically began checking your vitals, his tiny hooves pressing against your forehead.

"Y/n!" Luffy yelled, shaking your shoulder gently. "Wake up! What's wrong?!"

"Her pulse is weak!" Nami exclaimed, her voice tight with fear.

"She's completely drained," Robin stated, kneeling beside you, her expression grim but composed. "Using such immense power... it's bound to take its toll, especially if it's been suppressed for so long."

Franky knelt heavily beside you, his usual boisterousness replaced by a deep concern. "Y/n-sis...!"

Zoro watched, his earlier assessment of your power now tinged with worry. Brook hovered, his violin silent, his empty eye sockets conveying a profound sadness. Jinbe, his face unreadable, simply laid a massive hand on your forehead, a silent gesture of comfort and understanding.

The villagers continued to mill about, slowly reorienting themselves to a world they vaguely remembered, completely unaware of the exhausted siren lying at the feet of the bewildered pirates who had just saved them. For the Straw Hats, however, the questions still hung in the air, potent and demanding. Who was Y/n, truly? And what did this revelation mean for their journey, for their bond, and for the secrets of the Grand Line?

The gentle rocking of a ship was the first thing you registered, a familiar comfort after the unsettling stillness of the island. A cool, damp cloth rested on your forehead, and the distant cries of gulls replaced the siren's haunting song. You blinked, your eyelids feeling heavy, and slowly pushed against the exhaustion that still clung to you like a shroud.

You were in the infirmary, tucked into one of the bunks. The familiar scent of medicine mingled with the salty tang of the sea. Chopper was dozing in a chair beside you, a medical book open on his lap, his small snores a reassuring rhythm. The memories of the island, the battle, and the shattering revelation of your secret, slammed into you with the force of a wave.

You pushed yourself up, wincing slightly as a lingering ache pulsed through your legs. Chopper stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked, then his eyes widened.

"Y/n! You're awake!" he squeaked, scrambling off his chair and bouncing on the balls of his hooves. "How do you feel? You really scared us!" His concern was genuine, untainted by fear of your true nature.

A relieved sigh escaped you. "Just... tired, Chopper. Very tired." You looked around the familiar infirmary, the cozy confines of the Sunny a stark contrast to the chaos of the island. "How long was I out?"

"Almost a full day!" he chirped, puffing out his chest. "But don't worry, Doctor Chopper took good care of you! Your vitals are all normal now!"

You offered a weak smile, grateful for his unwavering innocence. "Thank you, Chopper." You swung your legs over the side of the bunk, testing your strength. They felt heavy, but perfectly human. The power had receded, leaving only the memory of its immense force.

"Everyone's been really worried," Chopper continued, his tone a little quieter. "They're all outside, but... they've been talking." He looked down at his hooves, shuffling them nervously. "About... you know."

You knew. The moment of reckoning had finally arrived. The gentle sway of the Sunny felt less like a comfort and more like the calm before a storm. Your family was waiting. And you had no more secrets left to hide.

"Go tell the others, Chopper," you said, your voice a little stronger now, though tinged with an unspoken apprehension. "Tell them I'll be out soon."

Chopper, ever eager to please, gave a happy nod and scampered out of the infirmary, his little hooves pattering on the deck. The sound of his excited chatter fading, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You swung your legs to the floor, the cool wood a grounding presence beneath your feet. You stood, testing your balance, then walked to the small mirror in the infirmary. Your reflection stared back, human, familiar, yet irrevocably changed. The memory of your shimmering scales, the golden markings, the raw power that had coursed through you—it all felt both exhilarating and terrifyingly real.

This is it, you thought, your mind racing. They know. All of it. The sensitive skin, the aversion to water, the lack of swimming, the refusal to sing... every little oddity, every carefully constructed excuse, it all makes sense now.

A knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. How would they truly react? Franky's loyalty was a solid comfort, and Jinbe's understanding was a balm to your soul. But the others... Usopp's terrified screams, Nami's horrified gasps, Sanji's stunned silence. Even Robin, with her keen intellect, had looked at you with a new, clinical intensity. You'd heard their words, the ancient, cruel rumors about sirens, about murderers and monsters. Would they see you as a monster, too, now that the truth was out? Would the bond you’d so carefully nurtured shatter? Would they fear you? Would they cast you out?

The thought was a cold wave washing over you. This crew, this chaotic, loving family, was your anchor in the world. You’d built a life with them, protecting them with a secret that had become your very identity. Now, that secret was gone, replaced by a raw, exposed truth. You took a deep breath, trying to steady the frantic beating of your heart. You had to face them. You had to explain. Even if the words choked you, even if their reactions broke your heart, you owed them the truth, the full story of who you were, and why you had hidden it for so long.

Taking another deep, fortifying breath, you walked to the infirmary door. Each step felt heavy, as if the weight of your revelation pressed down on you. The familiar sounds of the Thousand Sunny — Luffy's distant laughter, Sanji's humming from the kitchen, the creak of the mast — filled the air, a stark contrast to the tumultuous silence within your own mind.

You pushed the door open and stepped out onto the main deck.

The air immediately shifted. The casual chatter of the crew died. All eyes turned to you, a collective silence falling over the deck as profound as the one that had gripped the island square.

Luffy was the first to break the stillness, rushing forward, a wide grin back on his face. "Y/n! You're up! You feel better?" He bounced on the balls of his feet, his boundless energy a familiar, comforting presence.

Chopper scampered out from behind Franky's legs, relief clear on his face. "She's doing much better now, guys! Doctor Chopper made sure of it!"

But the others... their reactions were a complicated tapestry of emotions.

Nami stood by the railing, her arms crossed, her expression a mix of relief and intense, unresolved questions. Her eyes, however, held a new wariness that pricked at your heart.

Zoro leaned against the mast, his arms crossed over his chest, his single eye fixed on you. His expression was unreadable, but his silence was louder than any shout.

Sanji had stopped mid-gesture while polishing a plate, his gaze lingering on you, a strange mixture of fascination and something akin to fear in his eyes. He didn't offer a compliment, nor did he make a joke, which in itself spoke volumes.

Usopp was peeking out from behind a stack of barrels, his eyes wide and still filled with a palpable fear. He didn't scream, but his trembling was evident.

Robin stood beside Jinbe, her usual serene expression slightly more contemplative. Her eyes met yours, a silent, knowing look passing between you, acknowledging the precipice you both stood on.

Franky bounded forward, his hands slamming together. "Y/n-sis! You're awake! Feeling SUUUUPER, I hope!" His usual boisterousness was a welcome shield, a testament to his unchanging loyalty.

Brook bowed slightly, his skeletal frame rigid. "Y/n-san. It is good to see you well." His voice was respectful, but held a solemn tone.

Jinbe offered a steady, calm gaze, a silent strength emanating from him. He simply nodded, acknowledging your presence.

You took a deep breath, scanning their faces, bracing yourself. This was it. There was no going back now. The moment of truth, the reckoning you had dreaded for so long, was finally here. The deck of the Thousand Sunny, your home, had become the stage for your confession.

You swallowed hard, the silence on the deck stretching, thick with expectation. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the overwhelming need to finally speak. You took a deep, shuddering breath, and the words, once trapped, began to spill out.

"I know," you started, your voice a little shaky at first, but gaining strength with each word. "I know what you all saw on that island. What you're seeing now. What you've probably been wondering about for a while. And I know the stories. The legends. About sirens. About how they're monsters. Cruel. Murderers."

Your gaze swept over their faces, seeing the lingering shock, the apprehension, the confusion. You didn't give them a chance to interrupt, to question, to confirm their fears. The dam had broken.

"It's true," you continued, your voice now steadier, laced with a raw, undeniable honesty. "I'm a siren. What you saw... on the island... that was me. My true form." You gestured vaguely towards your legs. "When I touch water, I transform. And yes, that scream... it was my song. My true voice. It's how I fought her." You felt a strange mix of terror and relief as the words, heavy with years of secrecy, finally left your lips.

"I didn't choose this," you pressed on, your voice rising slightly, a desperate plea for understanding. "I was born this way. It's in my blood. And I've hidden it. All my life. From everyone. Even from Franky." Your eyes flickered to him, a pang of guilt in your chest. "I couldn't tell anyone. Because of the stories. Because of what people believe about us. I knew... I knew you'd be scared. That you'd think I was a monster. That you'd cast me out."

You took another quick, desperate breath, your gaze sweeping over the crew, daring anyone to interrupt. "My skin... it's not sensitive. That was a lie. A way to avoid swimming. To avoid anyone seeing. To avoid transforming. I never sang because our song... it's powerful. It can hurt people. It can control them. Like she did on that island. And I swore I would never, ever use it to hurt anyone. Especially not you."

You swallowed hard, your voice cracking slightly with emotion. "I know it sounds crazy. I know it's a lot. And I know you probably have a million questions. And you have every right to be angry. To be scared. To think I'm a monster. But I promise you... everything I've done with you, everything I've felt for this crew... it's been real. Every laugh, every fight, every meal, every single moment. It's been real. And I've always just wanted to protect you. All of you. That's why I did what I did on that island. That's why I marked you. So her song couldn't take you too."

You finally ran out of breath, your chest heaving, the raw confession hanging in the stunned silence of the deck. Your gaze, vulnerable and raw, pleaded with them to understand, to see past the terrifying legends and recognize the woman who stood before them.

The deck remained silent, the only sounds the gentle lapping of waves against the Sunny's hull and the distant cries of gulls. Your impassioned confession, a torrent of long-held fear and desperate honesty, hung in the air. The ball was now in their court.

The silence that followed your confession was deafening, suffocating. Each second stretched into an eternity, filled only by the frantic pounding of your own heart. Their faces, still frozen in stunned awe and apprehension, offered no comfort. A cold dread seeped into your bones, more chilling than any ocean depth.

This is it, you thought, a silent scream building in your throat. They're going to kick me out. This is the end. I'm alone again. The fear was a tangible weight, pushing down on you, threatening to crush you. The vulnerability of finally revealing your deepest truth was excruciating. Were they repulsed? Did they now truly see you as the monster of the legends? The terror of isolation, a primal fear you’d buried deep, surged to the surface.

Then, a sudden, booming laugh shattered the tension.

Luffy was roaring with unadulterated joy, a huge, uninhibited grin splitting his face. He rushed forward, wrapping his arms around you in a surprisingly gentle but firm hug. "SHISHISHISHI! That was so cool, Y/n! You're a siren! Like from the stories! That means you can swim super fast, right?! And sing super loud?! You're even more amazing than I thought!" His excitement was pure, devoid of any fear or judgment.

Franky was next, a tear rolling down his cheek as he slapped his metallic hands together. "MY LITTLE SISTER IS A SIREN! That's SUUUUPER! No wonder you're so strong! And you saved us all! Of course you wouldn't tell us, Y/n-sis! That's a huge secret! But you're still our Y/n!" He joined Luffy in the hug, his arm a gentle squeeze.

Chopper burrowed into the growing embrace, his small hooves patting your side. "Y/n! You were so brave! And you saved us from the bad siren! You're still Y/n! My friend!" His unwavering loyalty was a warm balm to your panicked heart.

Sanji, after a moment of stunned silence, lit a fresh cigarette, a dreamy look in his eyes, though tinged with newfound respect. "My dear Y/n-chan... to think I was graced with the presence of such a mystical, powerful, and utterly breathtaking lady all this time..." He took a dramatic bow, a faint blush on his cheeks. "My apologies for my earlier doubts. Your strength and compassion are truly unrivaled!" His fear had clearly been replaced by awe and adoration.

Brook stepped forward, his violin held carefully. "Yohohoho! To think, I was in the presence of a royal siren! My soul trembles with profound respect! And to possess such a voice... one that is used for protection, not destruction. Truly, Y/n-san, you are a symphony of courage!" He then added, a mischievous glint in his eye sockets, "Though, I suppose this means you still won't sing with me, eh? Yohoho!"

Jinbe walked over, his immense hand resting gently on your head, his eyes deep and understanding. "You carried a great burden, Y/n-san. But you used your power to protect your family, not to harm. That is the true measure of a person, not their lineage or their abilities." His quiet acceptance was a powerful anchor. "We are honored to have such a strong and compassionate member among us."

Robin, her expression serene, finally spoke, a soft smile gracing her lips. "From what I have observed, Y/n, you are not the monster of legends. You are our navigator's protective friend, our cook's inspiration, our captain's strength, and so much more. Your actions speak far louder than any ancient tale." She then added, a hint of genuine fascination in her voice, "And to think, we sail with one of the last royal sirens... the knowledge you possess must be immense."

Zoro merely grunted, his gaze fixed on you, a slight, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. "Took you long enough to spit it out," he said, his tone gruff but surprisingly devoid of malice. "Just means we have another powerful fighter. Don't go hiding stuff like that again, though. It's annoying." His acceptance, typically understated, was clear.

Only Usopp remained visibly terrified, still peeking from behind the barrels. "B-but... but she's a siren! A real one! What if she... what if she gets us in the water?!" he stammered, though his voice was less a shriek and more a nervous whimper.

You pulled back from the embraces, your eyes wide with tears, but they were tears of overwhelming relief. The fear, the crushing isolation, began to recede, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being. They weren't kicking you out. They weren't afraid. Not truly. They were... accepting you.

The aftermath of your confession wasn't a sudden, dramatic shift, but a gradual, beautiful unfolding. Life on the Thousand Sunny found its new rhythm, one that now openly embraced the full spectrum of who you were. The fear, the apprehension, had been replaced by a chaotic, heartwarming acceptance that only the Straw Hat Pirates could truly offer.

A New Normal

Little by little, your ingrained habits, once meticulously hidden, became just another part of the crew's eccentric tapestry. Now, when Sanji presented a particularly succulent fish, you'd openly gnaw on the bones, a quiet contentment on your face, and he'd simply smile, perhaps even preparing a few extra just for you. The raw sashimi he'd always set aside for you became a regular, cherished offering, a silent acknowledgment of your nature.

Your "sensitive skin" excuses vanished. When the sun beat down, or when a sudden wave washed over the deck, you no longer flinched. And now, the true joy: the water. After that fateful day on the island, you began to swim. Not just in secret, but openly, freely. The first time you dove into the ocean, your legs transforming with a shimmer of amethyst and gold, Luffy let out a triumphant cheer, immediately leaping in after you. Your golden-flecked scales would flash beneath the waves as you raced him, your powerful tail propelling you through the water with effortless grace. He’d laugh, delighted, amazed by your speed, while Nami would often watch from the deck, a thoughtful, almost wistful expression on her face.

Evolving Relationships

Your relationship with each Straw Hat, already deep, now held a new layer of understanding and acceptance.

Luffy, ever the purest heart, saw your siren form as just another incredibly cool facet of his crew. He'd often challenge you to underwater races, delighted by your speed, or simply marvel at your shimmering tail. Any fear he might have felt was completely overshadowed by his boundless excitement and appreciation for your strength. You were simply "Siren Y/n" now, and that was "SUPER awesome!"

Zoro's occasional, subtle glances at you intensified, but they were no longer filled with suspicion. Instead, there was a quiet, almost respectful curiosity, especially when he observed your immense strength or caught you in your siren form. He recognized raw power, and you had proven yours beyond doubt. Sometimes, after a particularly grueling training session, he'd find you by the railing, gazing at the sea, and simply offer a gruff, knowing nod, a silent acknowledgment of shared strength and newfound understanding.

Nami, once wary, now approached your siren abilities with a cautious fascination. She'd often ask you about ocean currents, or the habits of deep-sea creatures, recognizing the immense knowledge you now represented. While she still held a healthy respect for the dangerous aspects of your power, her initial fear had softened into a deep, appreciative trust. She'd sometimes even join you on the deck, watching you swim, a thoughtful smile on her face.

Usopp's initial terror gradually morphed into an awestruck wonder. He still whimpered occasionally when you fully transformed, but he'd also start weaving elaborate tales about "the legendary Royal Siren of the Straw Hats," turning your fearsome power into a heroic, if still slightly exaggerated, narrative. He'd even cautiously ask you about underwater dangers, seeing you as his ultimate resource for tall tales.

Sanji's adoration for you only deepened. The mystical allure of a true siren, combined with your unwavering kindness and strength, made you an even more enchanting figure in his eyes. He'd often prepare special raw fish dishes for you, or find the most exquisite water for you to drink, his chivalry extending to every facet of your siren nature.

Chopper's unwavering loyalty had been your first comfort, and it remained steadfast. He saw you simply as Y/n, his kind friend and protector. He'd often climb onto your lap even when your tail was visible, fascinated by the shimmering scales, touching them with innocent curiosity. His fear of your power had vanished, replaced by pure affection.

Robin's quiet fascination blossomed into a rich intellectual exchange. She became your most insightful confidante, asking thoughtful questions about your lineage, siren history, and the intricacies of your water control. She treated your power not as a monstrous secret, but as a fascinating, ancient mystery, and you found a deep comfort in her calm acceptance and intellectual curiosity.

Franky's pride in his "Siren-Sis" became legendary. He'd boast about your strength to anyone who'd listen, completely unconcerned by the implications of your true form. He'd even started brainstorming "Siren-Sis Super Weapons" for you, a testament to his unwavering, if eccentric, love.

Brook reveled in your truth, often asking if you had "royal siren songs" or "underwater melodies" from your heritage. His respect for your power was immense, and he continued to offer his own music, hoping one day you might share a song, not of danger, but of camaraderie.

Jinbe's calm acceptance had been a profound relief, and he remained your silent anchor. He'd often share stories of the sea, of ancient creatures and hidden currents, now knowing he spoke to one who truly understood. His respect for your royal lineage was evident in his every gesture, and he became a quiet guardian, understanding the unique burdens and strengths you carried.

Life on the Thousand Sunny, with your secret now openly embraced, was richer, deeper, and more true than it had ever been. You were no longer just Y/n, the gentle crewmate; you were Y/n, the royal siren, fierce protector, and beloved friend. And for the first time in your life, you were truly, completely, and unapologetically free.

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hedwig221b · 3 months ago

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Hello! First, I want to say that I absolutely adore all of your fics, and I love your recommendations. I was wondering if you have any super long Derek fics, I'm not picky on tropes. I just love long fics, peferably 50k or over! Thank you :)

Hi! Thank you so much! I don't know if you wanted Derek-centric fics, or if that was just a typo, so I put together a list of sterek fics over 50k words. Lmk if you wanted Derek-centric ones!

This one's very long...

If You're Lost, You Can Look and You Will Find Me by DaisyBeats

Derek left once the Nogitsune had been defeated, needing to get away from that god forsaken town. 18 year old Stiles is just trying to get through the rest of his senior year without killing his 'best friend' Scott… and missing Derek too much. Stiles goes home one day to find a young man sitting on his bed with no idea how he got there. "Derek?!"

Again, From the Middle by rlnerdgirl

One would think the nogitsune rearing its ugly head again twelve years after having arrived in Stiles’ life the first time would have been the worst of his problems. Surprisingly, or not, it’s the beginning of them. In the aftermath of trying to find a solution to eradicate a thing that cannot be killed, Stiles finds himself a stranger in a strange land. One where the nemeton is a whole tree, the Hale house isn’t burnt to a crisp, and all the Hales are alive and living little Hallmark miracle lives. It’s… disorienting to say the least. Though getting to know a Derek that’s never killed, never been a victim, and never lost is an entirely different matter altogether. It’d be the perfect world, if it were his. For better or worse, Stiles has a world and a home of his own. A dad, friends, and thriving entrepreneurial employment that he’s left behind. All, hopefully, sans nogitsune. Unless he managed to mess that up along with displacing himself. Of course, getting back isn’t nearly as easy as getting… wherever he is. Partly because he has no clue how he got here.

My Name is Derek Hale by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"What day is it?” Derek demanded. “What?” “The day! What day is today?!” Derek let Stiles go, but only so he could reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. He tapped at the home screen, and then went so perfectly still that Stiles was pretty sure this guy wasn’t human. No human could stand that still. When it was clear Derek wasn’t going to move again without some prompting, Stiles said, “It’s Wednesday.” “That’s impossible,” Derek whispered. “Not really, it comes around every seven days.” “This is impossible,” Derek said again, looking around himself, as if he was searching for something.

Actions Speak Louder than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” That was a bad word. Not found. Have. Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

My, What Big Shoulders You Have (The Better to Help You Carry the Weight) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more. “You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?” “It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.” Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes. “I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!” Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her. “What?! What was that sound?!” “You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder. “Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!” “Mike,” she argued. “Who’s Mike?” Scott asked. “Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

Don't Savage The Messenger by exclamation

There is an uneasy truce between the werewolves in the woods and the humans who live in Beacon Hills, protected by a magical boundary that gives warning any time a werewolf crosses it. Then the sheriff is taken by the werewolves and his son offers himself in exchange. Stiles promises to serve the werewolf pack, not knowing what horrible use they might have for him. But it turns out his most useful skill is the ability to cross the boundary line between humans and werewolves. Life with the werewolves is nothing like he feared and the werewolves themselves are nothing like the hunters' stories would have him believe.

Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth. “Not too close, he bites.” Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting. “He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton. The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.” “Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek. He looked extremely displeased.

By Any Other Name (I Will Always Feel the Same) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Stiles very slowly reached up with both hands and covered his neck as best he could before whispering, “Are you Vampires?” “What? No.” Derek couldn’t help the small laugh of disbelief that slid up his throat, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. It didn’t matter that he was thousands of years old, or that he was bigger and stronger than Stiles was. Somehow, he was pretty sure once this conversation was over, Stiles was going to be able to crush him like a bug, and he hated that feeling. “Didn’t you say he was smart?” Boyd asked. “Hey,” Stiles insisted, turning to him with a glare but not removing his hands from his neck. “Vampires is a perfectly logical guess in this case. And he said I was right on the Supernatural front. Vampires are Supernatural.” “He said you weren’t wrong,” Boyd corrected. “Not that you were right.” “Well, the opposite of wrong is right, so…” Stiles gave him a look, but turned back to Derek relatively quickly, as if realizing he was delaying his own answers. “We’re not Vampires,” Derek said, then let out a small sigh before admitting, “we’re immortal.” Or: The Old Guard AU nobody asked for (except me).

the poets are right by endversed

"Actually, I don’t give a fuck who you are,” Derek says, curling his lip harshly. “This is private property. How the fuck did you even get in?” In an act of quick placation, Stiles throws up two palms facing outwards in front of his chest. His eyebrows knit together as he hastily and vehemently begins to shake his head, trying desperately to telegraph just how severely Derek has grasped at the wrong end of the stick here. “Hey, whoa,” he says. “That’s not –” “You need to get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.” Derek pauses a moment, his nostrils flaring just a second before his eyes flash burning red, his entire face screwing up in this expression of pure disgust that sends a shiver down Stiles’ spine. “Christ, and you’re a human? A human omega? What kind of fucking moron breaks into a werewolves’ house when they’re just a weak fucking human?” An alpha werewolf and a human omega: a love story that was never supposed to happen.

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of….

With Blood on Your Teeth by Melpomene (Aconitehart)

When his dad speaks, it's in a carefully neutral voice. "You saw two wolves tonight." "One wolf," Stiles corrects. "The other was messed up. It had a wolf face, yes, but it was…" He trails off, not sure how to describe the wrongness of it. The way its muscles moved beneath its skin, rippling and bulging unnaturally. "It wasn't right." The sheriff nods. "And you magically threw this deformed wolf across the store?" "I didn't say it was magic." "A beam of light shoots out of your hands," the sheriff says dryly, "and tosses a wolf several feet away. You don't consider that magic?" Stiles fiddles with his IV. It's pumping fluids into him, but not morphine, unfortunately. He could use some unconscious euphoria right now. "I don't know what it was," Stiles says finally. "It's just what happened." His dad sighs. "Do you know that all wolves in this state are tracked? They have electronic collars on. Every wolf in California is a dot on a map somewhere." Stiles bites the inside of his mouth. "There are no wolves around Beacon Hills," the sheriff says definitively.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life. There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

A Tale of Two Princes by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

Given his nature of who he was, Derek Hale, only son to Talia and Marcus Hale, never expected to be married. Hell, he didn't even appear in public. But, after the war with the Argents, their country needed stability. And a political marriage suited that. Shame it had to be the prince of their neighbors to the south. Stiles had no idea where his life would take him. But a marriage of convenience to the crown prince of one of their neighboring countries wasn't exactly on his mind. He had to admit, it would have it perks. Both for the royal family, and for his country. He just didn't know anything about werewolves. Especially ones who were cursed out the ass. Oh well, he'd figure things out as he went.

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void. It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

Not Alone by ModeratelyScathed

When an unexpected visitor shows up with news that leaves Stiles reeling, he suspects that his entire world is about to change. But maybe that's not such a bad thing.

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

Shatter My Reality by Halevetica

Months after the nogitsune, Stiles starts to see his own face around town. He dismisses it as PTSD. That is, until Lydia starts having a feeling that Stiles is going to die. As the pack scramble to find out what is going on, Stiles is forced to face a ghost from a past he didn't know he had and a future that seems to threaten his place in the pack.

In Case The Daylight Never Comes by plume_bob

There's a relentless dark shape tearing through the pack and that's only the half of it. Stiles just wants to sleep and stop being haunted by the faces of his night-time tormentors. His dad thinks he's suffering from post-traumatic stress, Scott thinks he's suffering the after-effects of the ritual; Stiles thinks they're both reasonable theories, except for the part where Derek Hale is the only thing that can take his nightmares away and it seems that fact is no coincidence.

An Apple's Blossom by Dexterous_Sinistrous

Derek had an aura about him—one that drew you into his orbit despite the warning of an imminent threat. It was like a dream, more than Stiles realized at first. Because it wasn’t real. Nothing about the man Stiles had started to fall in love with—romanticize—was real. ~*~ Stiles is a recently graduated art student who agrees to marry his family's rival, only to realize that maybe love is a little more complicated than he first thought.

Cloaked in Gold by kaistrex (weishen)

Stiles' world tilts, the bed dipping as a weight settles over him, caging him in. Growling. His eyes flutter open in distant confusion as hot air sweeps over his throat and he stares up at twin beams of gold shining inches from his face. Werewolf. Stiles does the only thing he can. “DAD!” The werewolf jumps at the sudden shout, blanketing him tighter, and it’s only seconds until his dad is in his bedroom doorway with Melissa close behind, flicking on the light. Stiles' mouth drops open as he stares up at the thick eyebrows, sharp nose and perfectly groomed stubble of a golden-eyed and fanged Derek Hale. - When son of the Alpha, Derek Hale, ends up in his bed in heat, Stiles decides to use it to his advantage and secure the Bite for his sick stepbrother. As he and his family are welcomed into the Hale pack, Stiles grows closer to Derek than he'd ever dreamed he'd get, but with the fanged Soulbite of a born wolf on Derek's neck, he knows he's just setting himself up for heartbreak. Derek has a Soulmate out there, and it definitely isn't Stiles.

When the Dust Has Settled by halcyon1993

After Gerard’s defeat, no one is sure where they stand. Stiles is angry at Scott and doesn’t know why his head is suddenly filled with thoughts of Derek Hale. Derek doesn’t know why Scott’s betrayal isn’t as painful as the prospect of Stiles being in on it. As they ignore their developing feelings for each other, a freshly resurrected Peter Hale schemes to get them together. No one ever said he’d go easy on them, though. After all, where would be the fun in that?

Shovels and Dirt by bellefire

The nogitsune’s power doesn’t leave Stiles after the spirit is defeated. No, it seems Stiles was changing and knowing what that darkness did to his friends he refuses to put them in danger again. He leaves without a word. Now in a new city with not quite new friends Stiles realizes no one can run forever. Because family doesn’t back down and also, yeah, that fuckin’ tree really is talking to him.

And some of mine, as a cherry on top

Twilight

Derek. Stiles thought about him the most. Something told him that it wasn’t the last time, far from it. He thought about his softness and his open desire to kill. Stiles’ hands remembered the heat of his hands. His neck longed to feel the coating warmth of Derek’s breath. His lips burned from the kiss that never happened. Everything was so fucking complicated. Except one thing. It was the only clear thought in his head. The one that made his stomach clench from fear, his heart stutter from hope, and his lips stretch in a smile. He was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Derek.

Yes To Heaven

Stiles ruined him. The damage was irreparable. He didn’t want the food that wasn’t made by Stiles or shared with him; the water tasted stale; the clothes were asphyxiating and scratchy; the air was wrong, wrong without Stiles’ scent in it. Fuck, what was wrong with him? How could that pretty little thing change him so much? He had an iron grip on his control before, being in tandem with his instincts, but within weeks, all of it was gone. As soon as he thought of Stiles, though, of his scent, his moans, and the little wrinkle on his forehead as he orgasmed, his mind settled. What was life before Stiles? Everything was somewhere far, far away, forgotten, bleak, and meaningless. Derek thought he knew what light was as he looked at the microscopic dots of the stars above. Then Stiles came into his life and showed him the sun.

Predators

He was born for this. Nature itself whispered into his ear where he should put his hands, how to twirl his tongue just right and when to bite. Stiles knew well enough that his saliva was currently working its magic on this unfortunate man, making him hungry, lustful, and insatiable. Soon, all his thoughts would be consumed by Stiles. And, just this once, Stiles would allow Derek to consume him.

Treasure

"I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.” It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.

Wait For Me

"Stiles, we know about your Spark,” Scott looked at Stiles with desperate eyes, trying to convey something. “He is the Werewolf who's been chasing you. You must run. We’ll help you…” Stiles stared at his friend, genuinely concerned for his sanity, because the nonsense he was sputtering was really fucking confusing.

[masterlist link]

#sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek fic #stiles x derek #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #derek x stiles #sterek au #sterek fic rec #sterek ao3 #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fic rec #teen wolf sterek #teen wolf derek #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf au

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meanbossart · 3 months ago

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How did Du Drow’s personality and behavior change after turning away from Bhaal and losing his urges?

Very minimally, really. His personality changes most dramatically throughout the course of the campaign, but it's gradual enough a process that it shouldn't feel that way, at least.

Barring the standoffish-ness that he starts with (which I think is an understandable reaction to losing all of your memories and suddenly being in a life-or-death situation with a bunch of strangers) DU drow starts off as a person who isn't interested in anyone's well-being but his own, nor is he invested in anybody's story or their outcome. Everything he does is in the interest of his own survival or personal, subjective ethics (saving Arabella because she's an individual child in distress- not saving the tieflings in act 2 because they've served their purpose and he doesn't care for them as a group). He's charming, and even polite, but he makes it very transparent that he doesn't care for the happiness or comfort of others.

By act 2, he finds himself with people to care about and whose goals he's invested in - he kills Yurgir so Astarion can get his answer from Raphael even though he thinks it's an objectively dumb idea. He helps Shadowheart fullfil Shar's trials despite the fact that her religion seems like absolute nonsense to him - he wants to make these people happy when there is nothing in it for him., and that's absolutely novel. He's also a slightly warmer person by then who is friendly to, like, half of the party.

By act 3, he's been inspired by Shadowheart's rebellion and is kind of mirroring that in his own way. He enjoys occasionally helping refugees in the outskirts of the city if for no other reason than to go against the grain - he develops a bit of a "fuck the rich" and a Stick It To The Man attitude that I think is inherit to the man that he is, and harkens back to his forgotten days of living-rough as a youth; when he would only enter cities to thieve or collect supplies and looked at the more privilege sects of society as weak and pompous. He lets Yenna into camp after she shows up because dude just loves an urchin, he tries to free the prisoners from the Iron throne and then help out the slaves at the Steel Watch Foundry, he gets Minsc back to afford Jaheira some peace of mind and doesn't hesitate to refuse his father's gift.

Besides Shadowheart's and Astarion's stories, I think learning that the bloodlust he thrived in was imposed upon him rather than organically acquired was what most sent DU drow into an identity crisis. The idea of doing things against his will unbeknownst to himself, or of being a pawn in an authority figure's game, is something that brought him equal amounts of shame and anger. It also triggers him to want to get in touch with the less violent side of himself - since, supposedly, that was actually all him - and leads him to want to do the best by all of his party members (to mixed results, considering Karlach's and Gale's fates) and establish the depth of his existing relationships.

...Ironically, I think being killed by Bhaal and then resurrected by Withers led him to slightly stray off that path of improvement. I mean, the TRUE evil's been banished! Now he can stop feeling guilt and shame and worry and just live his life COMPLETELY free from critical thought! Literally the first thing that he does upon waking up is declare that he's cured, and then announce that he's a blank slate - he isn't, and we all know that.

DU drow then proceeds to be confused as to why he still enjoys murder and mayhem for like 2 months, until Shadowheart and Astarion gently knock some sense into him (not by dissuading him from enjoying murder and mayhem - but recognizing that that's a part of him that wouldn't go away at the simple snap of a bony finger, and an urge that he has full control over.) Naturally, what Wither's did also did his invincibility complex no favors.

So... He really is kind of the same. He is slightly more in-touch with his own empathy and open to the pleasures of life, but his base personality has remained pretty intact - I would say he turns out to be what that young, lanky forest cryptid would have been all along, had Bhaal never entered the mix.

#ask #du drow lore

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coff33andb00ks · 1 year ago

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Max + 12 hehehe 🫶🏻

12: possessive hand-holding let's fucking go i was hoping someone would request this

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

Max knows you love him. He's extremely confident of that fact, as he is of a lot of things. He doesn't get jealous. Well, much. Well, often.

Well, alright, he gets jealous. He can't help that. It's just that you're the best thing to happen to him and he fears that, one day, something better than him will come along and you'll realize you settled. He'll never say that to you, of course. But the deep-rooted insecurities linger though they aren't as vocal in his mind as they used to be. He knows you love him, knows he makes you happy, and so he doesn't let the jealousy show when it roars to life.

He's a few gin and tonics in but he's far from drunk, enjoying a laugh with Lando in the DJ booth, celebrating the race, when his eyes try to find you in the dim lighting. It doesn't take long - he could find you in any crowd, any lighting, blindfolded and hands behind his back. And immediately the jealousy flares, rumbling now, a sour taste in his mouth and a churning in his stomach that he knows isn't indigestion.

He's so glad his small circle of friends has accepted you in their lives and treat you with the respect they do. They're protective of you, almost as much as he is, and he has thought to himself that he would trust them with your safety under any circumstances.

But Charles is... Charles. Smooth and charming, eyes like a lost puppy that pulls at anyone's heartstrings and with a sort of hapless energy about him. Max knows he doesn't mean to but the man has an innate ability to make people fall in love with him. He's one of his best friends and over the years he's become his biggest defenders.

That being said...

"Mate!" Lando calls after him but he's already gone, downing his drink in one gulp on his way to you.

The club is vibrating with the music and the energy of revelry and you're thriving, relaxed and vibrant in the pulsing lights and gyrating bodies. You love to dance and Max loves to watch you, unable to keep up, and you like to tease him that it's one of only a few things he's not good at. Charles isn't much better but he doesn't care and can laugh when he looks stupid. Not that he ever really does; you don't think it's possible for him to look ridiculous.

The energy shifts, prickles of awareness raising goosebumps on your skin and you know it's Max. You don't have to look back over your shoulder to make sure, you can see the recognition on Charles' eyes when the lights flash. Hands you know better than your own grip your waist and you fall back as the beat drops, basking in the comfort only his hands can provide.

"Let's go, schatje."

It's early and the party has barely started but you recognize that tone. You'll never say no when he's like this. You know he watches you like a hawk, could probably spot someone trying to flirt with you from the cockpit of his car going top speed, and it gives you a thrill, knowing he's so in love with you that he gets jealous. You'll never admit it, even to yourself, but you get off to it and sometimes even encourage it.

"Say goodnight to Charles."

You do so immediately, accidentally on purpose grinding back on Max, seeing Charles' knowing smirk as Max's hand claims yours.

You are a feminist. No man will ever tell you what to do. You bend for no one, anything a man can do you can do better. But oh, when he's like this, his jaw set, hand clamped around yours as he pushes through the crowd you can only meekly follow, stars in your eyes and smiling like a fool. The sea of bodies part for him and you keep close behind, giddy and in absolute love with him, ready to prove to him that he's your one and only.

As if any man could begin to compare.

#inbox #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #fun fact jealous Max is kinda my new favorite thing #drabbles

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utterlyotterlyx · 1 year ago

Note

Can I request something where Azriel has to pick up Nyx from school one day and thinks his teacher is cute & is very flirty with her?

Yes! Love this idea so much!

When I Kissed The Teacher

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Feyre loves Nyx's teacher but loves playing matchmaker even more. After sending Azriel to collect Nyx from school one day after feigning a studio related emergency, she's very happy to learn that Azriel's affections are completely in the palm of your hand.

Warnings - none really, just cuteness all round

Feyre had always been worried about sending Nyx off to school, even though she believed Rhys when he told her that the schools of Velaris were the best in Prythian, she couldn't help but feel anxious that he wouldn't thrive.

Then she met you, and all of her worries faded away.

You were everything Feyre wanted in a teacher for her child, it had taken a lot of weight throwing to get him into your class, it was full to the brim of children from higher born families, only wanting the best for their offspring. Feyre wasn't even surprised.

It was clear how much you cared about your children, in nurturing them into intelligently creative creatures. Other teachers focused solely on the academics, but you had a passion for the arts, you said creativity helped children to find their passions and grow into more compassionate and joyful souls.

Nyx had run into her arms when she had come to collect him that first day, babbling on about what a wonderful time he had with you. Miss Y/L/N. Feyre had never seen such wonderment in his eyes when he told her in that broken infant language how great you were. Everyone's worries about Nyx becoming a shell had vanished.

The little thing had returned home with paintings, reciting poetry from your favourite passages; he had the desire to read, making different voices for the different characters like he had learned from you. Nyx was well and truly flourishing.

Feyre had insisted that you walk home with them one afternoon, since you only lived five minutes from the River House and it was on your route home anyway. From that walk, Feyre had learned much about you, that you were from Spring but left after being disowned by your family for wanting more from life than being married away to be used as a breeding tool. After that you had travelled the continent, making many friends along the way and opening your mind to the world before settling in Hewn City, only to be brought to Velaris on Rhys' orders because he had heard of your talents and passion and wanted it taking root in the children of his city.

The more you spoke, rambling on about art and books and theatre, did Feyre come to the realisation that a certain someone would be absolutely besotted with you. When you had hugged Nyx goodbye, ruffling his hair and telling him you'd see him in the morning, did Feyre begin to hatch her plan.

Azriel wasn't one for sunshine and rainbows, but even he had to admit that Nyx's and Feyre's gushings about you had him intrigued, even Rhys had commented on how sweet you were, seemingly very fond of how Nyx was excelling under your wing.

"Az, would you mind grabbing Nyx today? I have to head to the studio, delivery emergency," Feyre floated past him toward the door, a thin cloak fitted around her shoulders to protect her from the afternoon summer breeze that drifted along the Sidra.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," he waved Feyre from the house as she dashed down the path shouting over her shoulder what time to be at the school for.

The sun was beginning to dip in the sky but warmth still flew through Velaris, Azriel walked along the winding paths and up the hill to the school, the skittering sound of children's laughter filling his ears as he approached. Parents parted as he walked down the cobbled stone path, not wanting to graze against his wings with slight unease in their eyes. Azriel was used to it by now, the looks of disapproval, the slight fear in the people he passed.

The bell rang and birds shot to perch on the branches of the trees that surrounded the plush gardens teeming with bright flowers and wildlife. Children began to file out from the open door, grabbing their bags and running to their parents with wide smiles, excited to tell them what you had taught them that day.

Azriel spied the inside wall littered will paintings and cards, all addressed to you, as well as a wooden table filled with the gifts the children had no doubt made their parents purchase for you.

Then he saw you, and the Shadowsinger audibly gasped. There you were, dressed in a loose white blouse with stringed corset, an earthy brown skirt that fell to the floor covered in colourful handprints that reached your thighs, your hair was unbound and baby hairs whispered along the sides of your face.

You were sunshine. You were radiant.

Nyx's hand was curled in your own as you led him out of the classroom and Azriel could have sworn he'd never seen a brighter look on anyone's face as the little man searched the crowd, "Uncle, Az!"

Your gaze had also fallen on him and you drank in his smile as Nyx left your grip and hurtled to the Shadowsinger, his grin was large, showing off all of his teeth as he bent down and wrapped Nyx in his toned arms, laughing loudly and asking about his day before standing up.

"I don't think we've ever formally met," you held your free hand out, your other carrying Nyx's bag, "I'm Y/N, well, Miss Y/L/N."

You were as soft as summer rain, adoration in your orbs, and you radiated purity and grace. Azriel glanced at your outstretched hand, sliding his own into it and feeling a force of gravity will him closer to you, "So you're the one that has Nyx ready for school at the crack of dawn," he felt relief when you didn't recoil at his hand in yours, the hands that usually made people grimace, "Azriel," you giggled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your pointed ear.

High Fae.

"Guilty as charged," your voice was like butter, smooth and rich, the perfect balance of femineity.

"Can't say I blame him," he smirked at the heat that rose to his cheeks, at the sheepish smile that tugged at your lips.

"That's very nice of you to say," one of your students walked past you, waving goodbye, and Azriel watched you bend down and fix her jacket to her body, telling her to have a lovely weekend in the sun, "Nyx has had a lovely day today. He just keeps on flourishing, it's remarkable," you had told him once you had risen again.

"I'm sure anyone could flourish with you around. Must be the Y/N effect," he cocked his head to the side at your giggle, just happy to be able to examine the woman who had Nyx all excited every morning. Feyre and Rhys were right, you were remarkable. Like a rainbow rippling in a storm.

"Must be it," the birds jumped from branch to branch around you, like they wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as possible, flitting to the bird houses you had erected by the pond of ducks and in the trees.

"Would you like to walk home with us? Feyre mentioned that you didn't live too far from the house?"

Your mouth fell into the perfect o shape, "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose-"

"You're not," Azriel smiled, looking down at Nyx, shaking his little hand and asking, "Is she, Nyx? Would you like Miss Y/L/N to walk home with us?"

"Yes!" Nyx shouted and you laughed, a laugh that made the edges of your eyes crinkle, you disappeared into the building, returning a few moments later with you satchel, locking the door and taking Nyx's free hand in your own after handing his bag to Azriel.

Azriel was positive that he'd never seen Nyx shine so brightly.

The walk home was full of light chatter, you made Azriel laugh more times than you could count, and Nyx was pointing out random things along the way, looking up at you for approval and tapping his feet on the ground when you nodded and smiled.

From the house, Feyre watched through the curtains as Nyx ran up the path, and kept watching as Azriel lingered behind, she wished she could hear what he was saying to you. But as you smiled, and blushed, and then nodded at the Shadowsinger who was kicking his feet like a schoolboy, she knew it was going well.

Strong arms wrapped around her midsection and her back hit a hard chest, his deep chuckle vibrated through him and his warm breath fanned against her ear, "Playing matchmaker again, darling?"

Feyre hummed with a gentle smile, accepting the peppering kisses over her shoulder as she watched you walk away, looking back at Azriel and waving before turning the corner, "I think this is my best one yet," she told Rhys, noticing the pursed smile on Azriel's lips and the faint pink tinge to his complexion as he followed Nyx up the path.

"I'm inclined to agree."

SO CUTE!

Thank you for the request! x

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aventurineswife · 4 months ago

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-Hoo-shit- My brain is cooking up something fierce...

(SAHSRAU Idea Incoming)

So, remember the Painter!Creator? What if when they were young they had a lot of creative visions, of the idea of Honkai Star Rail, not specifically who characters were or what they would be like or do, but the idea of an intergalactic universe with different planets, cultures, and people in it, with travel being by train.

(Absolutely overjoyed with HSR releasing as a game, its like a dream come true!)

Now, pair this with the idea, that before they had eventually gotten sucked into the game, they didn't gain their technical ~Immortality~ till they turned like 15 or something and all the physically negative things that happened to them- be it, they got sick, they got a small injury, like a scrape or something, they had to go to the ER for an accident-

Several different planets- like over a thousand, with their terrain, wild life, and inhabitants all faced a crisis of some kind.

When they got a cut, scrape, or small injury, when they were like- under 5 years old, over 100 planets would experience a continental drift, forever physically shaping the Geography of them. When they got sick, when they were 10, over 1000 planets experienced heavy dormancy and withering with crops and animals, not to mention the people coming down with plagues and horrible diseases. When just before they had turned 15, they had gotten into a car accident- putting them in critical condition, the result commenced several different wars of many kinds- The Swarm Disaster being an example of that, and planet invasions/destruction- Boothill's planet being an example.

And as they grew up, coming over the age of 15, the Painter!Creator gains their technical ~Immortality~ which stopped any and all crisis under their physical inconvenience to a heavy pause, however leaving impacts on the history of everything in Honkai Star Rail, so when another crisis happens, its not under their influence of any kind, just life itself taking a few unfortunate pointers on how it should react under a certain time and place.

So, imagine how any and all characters/relevant characters (Of your choosing, but please include Boothill in this) would react to this information.

Also just to clarify, if your confused on how the timeline of this all would intercept concerning the physical negative inconveniences I just listed off, let's just say they turned 15 in April of 2020 since the game came out in 2023 on April 26, so they'd be 18 at that time, and 20 now.

Oh, this is insane in the best way possible.

The idea that Painter!Creator had these visions of a universe long before it even "existed"—and that their own physical state shaped its very history—is such a wild take on the concept of divinity. It makes them unknowingly responsible for so much of the universe's suffering, but also for its very existence.

And then they became immortal.

Not by choice. Not through power-hungry ambition. But simply because the universe stopped reacting to them. As if it had already been set in motion, as if it had finally learned how to run on its own, leaving them behind as a witness rather than a participant.

And then they got sucked into the game.

Suddenly, they are standing in the world they once glimpsed in their childhood dreams.

And the people? The ones who suffered, the ones who thrived, the ones whose lives were quietly molded by their injuries, their sickness, their pain?

How would they react?

This is where it gets really painful.

Boothill’s entire planet was annihilated.

He lost everything. His home, his people, his past.

And now he finds out why.

Not because of some grand cosmic war.

Not because of some malicious, calculated scheme.

Not even because of a mistake.

But because, somewhere, sometime, a young Creator was in a car accident.

He’d hate Them at first.

He’d despise the idea that everything he suffered was so meaningless.

But over time, he’d realize… it was never personal.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s even worse.

Because what do you do with anger when there’s no one to blame?

Dan Heng would take this… very quietly.

His mind would race, calculating the implications, the sheer weight of this knowledge.

He wouldn’t accuse or lash out. Instead, he’d just… study Them.

He’d want to know how They feel about it.

Do They feel guilt? Do They accept it? Have They even come to terms with what They are?

And if They haven’t? Dan Heng would be one of the few to actually ask:

“Then what do you want to do, knowing this?”

Oh, Kafka would love this.

Not in a cruel way. Not in a way that dismisses the tragedy of it.

But in the way that someone who sees the threads of fate would.

She’d see the narrative in it, the grand, cosmic poetry.

She’d wonder if They are still creating—if They still paint, dream, envision.

Because what They dream becomes reality.

And maybe, just maybe…

Kafka would whisper in Their ear, encouraging Them to dream again.

Because who knows? Maybe the universe is still listening.

Screwllum would have the most complex reaction.

On one hand, this is not logical.

The mere cause-and-effect relationship between the Creator’s experiences and the universe’s history should not exist.

And yet, it does.

For the first time in a long time, Screwllum cannot calculate the "why."

And that? That would fascinate him.

He would study Them, not out of worship, but out of a pure, unrelenting need to comprehend.

March would be the first to ask if They’re okay.

Because, Creator or not, that’s a lot to bear.

She’d wonder if They ever wanted this.

If They ever had a choice.

And if They ever just… want to be normal.

Welt, of course, would approach this with caution.

He has seen impossible things.

But the idea that this whole universe is the reflection of one person’s pain? That’s something even he struggles to accept.

And yet, he does.

Because the truth doesn’t need to be believable. It just needs to be.

What Does the Creator Feel?

This is the big question.

They didn’t choose this.

They were just a kid with a wild imagination and a body that got hurt, got sick, got broken.

And the universe listened.

Now They are here, standing among the people who unknowingly suffered under the weight of Their existence.

Do They try to fix things?

Do They simply live among Them, unseen and unrecognized?

Or do They let the universe continue on its own—just as it learned to do after They turned 15?

Because at the end of the day…

They’re still just one person.

But the universe will always be watching.

Okay guys, no more SAHSRAU/Creator!Reader AU 🙏

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smuttyazrael · 1 year ago

Text

Wolfy problem Part 2

Word count: 2,095

Summary: Bill gets turned into a werewolf. Wolves need breastmilk to live. They thrive under thier special breastmilk. Y/N volunteers to be his wet nurse.

Warnings: Masturbation, Oral, Sexual intercourse, Fingering, Cum kink, Lactation kink, breeding kink, Voyeurism, Exibitionism, Public.

Heading to Bills house was actually a lot of fun. He lives in a cottage by the sea. It's absolutely beautiful. He gave you a quick tour and you sucked him off before you guys went to sleep for the night.

The next morning, the sun rises waking me up. The whole room lite up by the sun. You're curled up into his side. You see the blanket tented again and slip under it.

You take him in your hand caressing him admiring his size. You give it a lick up the shaft. A bead of precum wells at the top of his slit and you lick it off. Moaning at the taste. You ingulf his head in your mouth.

You feel his fingers thread through your hair. "Fuck babygirl, wake me up like this every morning." He moans out as he thrusts himself deeper. "Gonna cum lots for you." He tells you as you feel it spurt out his shaft onto you tongue, the salty taste exploding. You moan at the taste. His spurts taper off and you lick off his cock making sure to get every drop. "Good girl. Cleaning my cock up. You got milk to feed me? I'm really hungry" you pop up from under the blankets.

"Maybe, I was told to take three loads before I started producing." You tell him.

"Lets try then" he says latching on to your tit. Massaging it as he gulps down your milk. You start rubbing you pussy on his thigh. Moaning as you clit brushes againt his thick muscluar thigh with every thrust. His eyes are closed with a peaceful look as he continuously glups down your milk. His cock twitching with every pull his mouth makes on you tit.

"Bill!" You cry out cumming on his thigh soaking it in you slick. His cock leaking precum. His head turning purple. Bill switches tits. You gasp on to his fuck stick. Jerking it as he trusts into your fist. Groaning around your nipple. Before long hes letting out a moan and ropes of cum cover his chest. He unlatches from you tit.

"Your letting my percious cream go to waste, baby. You better be cleaning that up." He tells you his eyes filled with lust and a smirk on his face. You go down licking off his chest. Moaning constantly at the taste as he praises you. "Your milk is the best thing I've ever tasted. I am so happy I get to drink this my whole life,"

"You do like it?" You ask shyly coming up to face him after finishing licking up his cum.

"I love it. I will drink it as much as I can. I will fill your belly with so much cum just so I have to drink from you more." He promises. You two getting up. He walks around the cottage his hard cock swaying around as he moves with confidence. You follow him a little more shy.

"I have to go to work today. Do you have class?" He asks you as he makes you two breakfast.

"No, not today. I have the rest of the week off." You whisper wishing you had his cofindence.

"Okay, you will come to gringotts with me today. Then tonight we have an order meeting."

"Okay, I can bring some homework to do." You offer.

"You won't need that. I'm gonna keep your mouth full of cum all day. I need your tits leaking and achy for me." He tells you plating the food for you. You blush.

You both eat up and hurry getting ready for Bills work. But not before Bill gets another two loads down your throat and pins you against the wall giving you a screaming orgasm. You both arrive at Gringotts late with Bills cock still throbbing.

"Fuck, I have a meeting. Come on." He drags you to a board room. He sits down in the middle of the table. "Come suck my cock. I can't concentrate with it leaking so much prefuck. I need your mouth like a good girl." He tells you.

You feel your panties get wet. You kneel under the table taking his cock in your mouth sucking it. You get drstracted by the massive meat stick in front of you. Enjoying the wieght on your tongue and how it is pouring precum. Bill has his finger laced you your hair. All of a sudden you hear Bill speak.

"The... fuck.... vase.... is .... *groan*...def-*moan*-initely.... cursed." He struggles out. "We... fuck me.... need to.... fuuuuuck" his cum splashing the back of your throat him panting loadly. All eyes are on him as he just leans back in his chair blissed out. "We need to remove each curse layer by layer." He finally gets out.

"Alright, curse breaker Weasley says thats what we need to do. Thats what we will do." A man says clapping his hands. Everyone leaves but the man and Bill.

Bills cock is hard again and hes thrusting it into your mouth.

"How is everything going, Bill? I heard about the bite." The man says clapping Bill on the shoulder.

"It's going actually reather well, Howard. Y/N a friend of my little bothers stepped up to be my wet nurse." Bill says in between thrusts and moans.

"I can see. You gonna marry her man?" Howard asks peeking under the table to get a quick look at you.

"Marry her. Knock her up with my pups. I'm gonna do it all. Fuck... baby girl here it comes." He says with a groan cumming again. "I can't wait till shes round with my pups." He says to Howard blissed out and panting.

"Sounds like the best thing that could have happened. I'll talk to you later man. Gonna find me wife and see if she is willing to suck me off under my desk." Howard says clapping his shoulder again and leaving the room. Bill pulls you up onto his lap and gives you a kiss.

"Your perfect, baby girl." He says pulling your top down. Latching on and suckling. You moan thrusting on his thigh again. "Thats it Y/N take your pleasure from me. Only I will give it to you." He mumbles around your boob. You moan out cumming soaking your panties completely. He unlatches pulling your top up. He stands you up lifting your skirt and pulling down your panties. He taps your leg to get you to step out of them. You do. "I'm gonna keep these." He says standing tucking them into his pocket. He walks to his desk and puts a pillow on the floor under it.

"What will I wear?" You ask confused.

"Your slick on your thighs, sweet girl. I want everyone to know how good I make you feel. If your good before the order meeting Ill pump you full of my baby juice and I can watch it drip out of you all meeting." He says as his cock throbbs again. He helps you get under his desk and gets to work.

You suck his cock all day. Surprisingly your jaw not hurting. Maybe his cum has something to do with it. By the end of the day you have sucked down so much cum you've lost count how many loads. Your tits and aching and leaking. Your top is soaked in milk, but you didn't say anything not wanting to bother his workflow. He stands you up seeing tears in your eyes about how sore your boobs are.

"Baby girl, whats the matter?" He asks wiping your tears with his thumbs.

"My tits." You whine pitifully. He looks down.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asks pulling your top down latching on immediately. He gulps down as much as fast as he can. Sitting you down on his lap. Your tits feeling better almost right away.

"I didn't want to bother you." You mumble to him.

"Never is sucking your beautiful tits a bother." He says switching to the other. He gulps the milk down quickly. "We gotta go. We are late for the order meeting."

He drags you after covering your tits with your top again. Not that it covers much because its all wet. You both floo to the burrow. He sits down at the table. Pulling out his cock and pulls you to sit on it.

You look up noticing Hermione shifting around in her seat.

"Need a nice big cock to fill you too." Charlie asks her. She blushes.

"No, just feeling funny." Hermione says. Bill and you watch with interest.

"Well, I have just the thing. Come here you can sit on my lap. I'll make it better." Charlie coaxes. Finally after a while Hermione gets up to walk around the table. Charlie quickly pushes down his sweats under his balls. His cock hitting his abs with a quiet thwack. You can see his sweats have a round dot of pre cum. Hermione blushes seeing his cock when she gets beside him. "Don't worry about him. He will make you feel better." He says to Hermione with a smile.

"Will it fit?" She asks curiously.

"Y/N can fit Bills which is bigger and she is smaller then you. It will fit." Charlie says lifting her on to it. They both moan as it fills her. Bill starts thrusting into you cumming with a moan.

"That was so hot Charlie." He moans out cumming.

"Yeah, having best friends with our cocks in thier pussys. Maybe you should bite me on the full moon and Hermione here will be my wet nurse." Charlie says pulling her against his chest. Hermione blushes looking down.

Harry and Ron both walk in. Harry looks at you and Hermione sitting on Bill and Charlies lap in shock. Ron just turns red in anger. Bill ignoring them both thrusting into you. Charlie is doing baby thrusts into Hermione.

"Bill, Charlie, do you really need to be doing that at a meeting?" Molly asks them.

"Bill gets his cock in Y/Ns pussy. And Hermione was feeling empty. I'm only happy to help her out." Charlie says with a smirk thrusting hard into Hermione causing her to moan out loud. "Thats a good girl." Charlie praises and Hermione moans loudly. You get wetter watching and listening. "You like when I praise you. You gush so much." Charlie says to her.

"So does Y/N. She will turn into a fountain when I praise her and she apparently likes it when you praise Hermione." Bill tells Charlie while still thrusting into you.

"Okay, Bill why are you doing this with Y/N at the table?" Molly says a little taken aback.

"Need to fill her with my pups before the final battle. I don't want her fighting. And if shes either carrying my pups or just given birth she can't fight." Bill says like its the most obvious thing in the world. You cum hard on his cock squeezing the cum out of it. "Uhh Y/N you like the idea of being full with my pups." Bill groans spurts coating your womb.

"Fuck!" You hear Charlie yell cumming in Hermione. "Your best friend being round with my brothers babies turn you on. You want a baby with her." Charlie says cumming in Hermione as she screams his name cumming on him.

The meeting goes on with everyone ignoring Charlie, Hermione, Bill and yourself. You four cumming throughout the meeting. Them understanding that the only way you and Hermione would step out of the fight is if you two are pregnant. You both are too cock drunk to fight it.

You stand up after the meeting. Getting off of Bills cock. His cum spits out of you falling to the ground with a splat. "Hey, I worked hard to put that in you." He teases. Him and Charlie hug while you and Hermione both stand there with a far away look. "You better sleep with her on your cock tonight of she might crash." Bill tells Charlie.

"Your right. I will deal with her come down in the morning" he says.

Bill and you both leave for the cottage. Bill strips you as soon as he walks in and then strips himself. Leaving both your clothes at the door. He pulls you into the kitchen and heats up some food. He them pulls you on to his lap, latching on to you tit suckling while he feeds you. Before long, you both head to bed. He places you on top of him and falls asleep suckling

#smut #female reader #harry potter smut #bill weasley smut #hermione smut #charlie weasley #hermione x charlie #bill weasley x you #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley #hp smut #hp fanfic

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maybege · 2 months ago

Text

Lessons Learned

Summary: Someone accuses you of the most horrendous crime possible. Paz makes sure to prove them wrong.

Pairing: alpha!clan leader!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers vibes (but really it is just idiots to lovers), (unfounded) accusations of child harm, fluff, yearning, scenting,

Big shoutout to @mostly-megan who helped me bring this story to life! I am so excited to share more about etl!Paz, it really is one of those AUs that I constantly think about but very rarely do I actually write about it. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it! Please let me know what you think in a comment or a reblog – they are the best things about sharing it with you. Happy Sunday!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Had anyone ever told you that you not only would wed Paz Vizsla, leader of your enemy clan, but you would live a somewhat happy life in the covert, you would not have hesitated to call that person a liar. Yet here you were, living a somewhat solitary but not necessarily unhappy life.

Sure, the mountain halls had needed some getting used to. You missed the sunshine on your face whenever you roamed the hallways, but the tunnels and rooms carved into the mountains kept you nicely cool in the summer and allowed the nature above to grow freely. You had heard from many people, independent of their clan, that the Vizsla territory was well-kept and well-protected. The flora and fauna were thriving and you had never seen so many butterflies as when you spent a few minutes outside.

Sadly, the glimpses you got from nature were through carved windows or courtyards that allowed you to gaze at the colours of the sky. You could not remember when you had simply lain down in a meadow, allowing the sounds of nature to soothe you to sleep. Your guards were quite strict, and though you had a feeling that they would not keep you from going outside, surely, they would report back to your husband and you were not ready to have to justify your comings and goings.

It was a pleasant surprise, then, when Maudii from the foundlings’ nursery asked you if you would like to help out in the classrooms. Teaching little ones was something you knew from your time back home and you enjoyed reading stories to them, teaching them the old legends and helping them improve their reading and writing.

However, your favourite part by far was when Maudii announced an excursion out of the covert and into nature. The trips to the outside were an absolute success. You got to wander through the meadows, along the edge of the woods, carefully crossing small streams as the children took in everything with big eyes and even bigger grins. You knelt down in the bushes, showing them the difference between the delicious berries you could put in cakes and the ones that were only meant for birds.

Each night, you lay in your little guestroom, tired out from spending the day in the fresh air and sunshine and finally felt like you had found a place where you could belong. Your husband might not love you and your body might betray you whenever you saw him, but finally, you had people in the covert who did not sneer at you whenever you crossed their paths.

Of course, that was only wishful thinking.

“What is going on?” you asked the guard who had suddenly appeared in the midst of your lesson the next morning. Kroks was not a stranger to you. Dieko had introduced him as one of the warriors in training and the young man was always very cordial towards you. Which is why his worried gaze set you on alert.

“Will you come with us, please?” Kroks looked uncomfortable but the guard next to him did not wait for your reply. His grip on your arm came as a surprise and it hurt, the physical pain overshadowed by the betrayal that even after months in this clan, you were still treated like an enemy. Maudii looked on with helpless fear and shock as you passed her, but you knew there was nothing she could do.

The walk to the throne room was not an unfamiliar one but it felt longer than usual now that you were dragged through the hallways like you had committed murder. No one spoke to you, no one told you why you were summoned and you could not help the panic that rose in you. If you were summoned by the guards, it could only mean that Paz knew about it. And what could possibly cause your husband to summon you like a common criminal?

Images flashed in your mind of wars and battles, all of them involving Paz and your family at home. What if your sacrifice had all been for nothing? What if it had not been enough to broker peace between your clans and now you would be the first victim of the new wave of battles?

But even as you thought it, there was a trust in you that Paz would not harm you.

The heavy doors to the throne room were pulled open, and your eyes immediately settled on him. Your husband was sitting on his throne, legs spread, chin resting on his hand and your heart skipped a beat at the memory of how, not too long ago, you had joined him there.

The moment he spotted you was clear because he sat up, back straight and a deep frown on his face. Like he had not expected to see you. That was a good sign, right?

You were not the only ones in the room, of course, and after you finally ripped your eyes away from your husband, you recognised a few council members and some guards standing around the room. Right in front of your husband was a man you did not recognise.

“You interrupted my council meeting with empty accusations and now you drag my wife here,” Paz’s voice boomed through the room, sounding very bored, “Please enlighten us to what end you interrupt my very day, Roalm.”

“I am here because our guest,” Roalm spat out the word, “has committed the most treacherous and spiteful of acts.”

It took you a minute to realise he meant you. You were the guest. You were the one who had committed something so horrible, you had been dragged here to face the consequences. The frown on your face did little to also cover the anxiety that surged up. Your heart beat loudly in your chest and you got nervous.

What did he mean? What had you done? You were more than aware that although you were all Mandalorian, there were differences in your culture that you had not caught up on completely. All in all, though, you got the impression that you hadn’t done something completely stupid. Yet.

“It brings me no pleasure to say this,” Roalm continued gravely before pointing his finger at you, his eyes full of hatred, “She has poisoned the foundlings.”

His accusation sat in the empty room for a moment, the shock following soon after. His words kept echoing in your head as you tried to determine if all this was real or if maybe you were still dreaming. Maybe you were still asleep, curled up in your bed with blankets, and at any moment, you would hear one of Paz’s advisors enter his room, updating him on his daily schedule. Maybe you were close to your heat? You always had the most absurd and scary dreams then.

None of that happened, though, you were still standing on the stone floor, your eyes wide as you watched Paz sit up straighter, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. The guard behind you seemed to understand what had been said earlier than you, because your knees suddenly met the floor as you were pushed to kneel in front of Paz.

“What?” you breathed, wincing through the pain, “No, I – I would never – I haven’t …”

“She's been taking the foundlings out to the fields for weeks now,” the man interrupted you, sounding so sure of himself, “And several of them have said they were being fed berries by her. Poisonous berries! Clearly, she has been sent here by her pack of traitors to cause us the most possible harm. Not only is she infiltrating us by being married to our leader, she is jeopardising our entire future.”

Tears gathered in your eyes. You wanted to be strong. You needed to be strong. But stars, you were so tired. You had done everything to make a good impression, to make sure that you were polite and kind to everyone. And you had been so happy to finally find a place where you could do something. Where you could be happy and useful and –

“I would never …” you sobbed, “I would never harm them. I didn’t harm them. Paz, please,” you looked up, finding your husband’s gaze on you, "Please. Please, believe me.”

Your husband always looked imposing on his throne. It was hard to believe that it had not been too long ago that you had joined him on his lap, letting his fingers explore parts of your body that resulted in ecstasy and now you were kneeling on the floor, teardrops forming a little pool in the grooves of the stone beneath you. Oh, how the mighty could fall.

“You know,” Paz’s voice was cool but it had an edge to it that you could not identify, “One might say that everything my wife does is a reflection of me. Would you suggest that your own clan leader has been conspiring to kill foundlings?”

“N-no, no! Of course not, m’lord. I was merely suggesting. I-it was –“

“Then you had better have proof of such things,” you watched with baited breath as the alpha rose up, towering over everyone in the room, even more so now that you were kneeling, “I hope you’ll be able to back up those claims when me and my guards join the trip tomorrow. Or else you’ll have not only insulted my wife, but you’ll have threatened her well-being. Now, everybody leave.”

You had never slept so badly, tossing and turning all night as you tried to give your panicked thoughts a rest. Not even the night before you had snuck out of your clan’s quarters to offer yourself to the scary enemy alpha, you had been this nervous. Maybe because you knew there was nothing keeping you from being killed if people thought you actually poisoned the foundlings.

You frowned, staring at the dark ceiling. None of the foundlings had been sick in the last few weeks (with the exception of one case of a cough which had turned out to be from too much dust in a carpet) and you trusted your abilities enough to know poisonous from edible berries.

Surely, your excursion today would prove your innocence.

Because if it didn’t …

Tears threatened to spill onto your cheeks again.

Hearing Kroks enter Paz’s room, greeting up, felt like a relief then. The day was starting and so was your chance to prove yourself.

You chose your prettiest dress to wear, made of long linen that had been dyed with flower petals. The children loved to find the flowers in the wild that had been used for the colours on your dress and with all the excitement of today, you wanted them to have as much fun as possible.

The sun was shining as your larger-than-usual group finally reached one of the hidden exits of the caves. There was not a cloud in the sky and you were greeted with a cool breeze that rustled the trees and made the meadows look like green oceans. Everyone was in a good mood, chattering happily as you made your way along the edge of the woods.

Well, not everyone.

The only people who were more serious than you were the few council members and guards that Paz had ordered to accompany you. Roalm was one of them.

You tried your hardest to ignore the man as you knelt in the grass, letting the children explore and run around to their heart's content. You had been scared that the unannounced guests on your trip would throw them off, but you should not have worried. The little ones were very happy with the extra attention they got, running this way and that way and picking berries to show the guards which ones were for them and which ones were for the birds.

The council members stayed back but you did not let yourself be tricked by their silence. You knew they were watching every move you made and listening intently to every word that left your mouth. There was no room for mistakes. No room for ambiguity.

Luckily, the children did not share your predicament and instead let themselves be distracted whenever they deemed the lesson too boring.

One of the distractions they found was their clan leader.

You would not have expected Paz to be as relaxed as he was. He let himself be tugged along by tiny hands, climbed on by the toddlers, all with the biggest smile and a deep laugh. You watched in awe as he carried them on his shoulders, making sure they did not fall, even as they hung from his arms with happy squeals.

Paz Vizsla, for all his talks about the importance of foundlings, had not made a particularly child-friendly impression on you. Clearly, you had been wrong.

The sight of him surrounded by the children made your heart flutter and you found yourself able to take one deep breath after another as you and Maudii pointed out new plants to your students. Your eyes met your husband’s on more than one occasion and there was a strange expression on his face, with just the hint of a smile on his mouth.

Maybe everything would turn out to be okay.

Lunch was taken on a meadow. No one had arrested you yet, which you counted as a win and when Maudii and some of the guards opened the baskets full of food, you had the first moment of today to just relax.

You were all alone when you sat back against a tree, right underneath the shade, and bit into a delicious berry bread. In front of you, you watched the children play with Paz, their little forms almost hidden by the tall grass as they tried to escape from the “monster”, a role your husband impersonated surprisingly well.

His roars and laughter and were interrupted by the children’s giggles as, one after the other, they were plucked from the ground and put on his shoulders. You could barely see him by the end, with all the children clinging to him as he slowly made his way to where all the adults were waiting. Maudii greeted them with a smile as Kroks helped her distribute the packed lunches the kitchen had prepared for them.

“But we are not done,” Lia pouted, “The monster hasn’t caught us all yet.”

“Of course, I did, little warrior,” Paz laughed as he lifted another kid off his shoulder, “I caught all of you hiding in the grass, didn’t I?”

Lia took a big bite of the bread, her words muffled. “You need to chase her, too,” she pointed to you and you could see Paz’s gaze darken as he followed her arm.

“Um, I don’t know …” you trailed off, highly aware of him now mustering you.

But Paz did not seem to share your worries. Your husband stood up, seeming taller than usual. “C’mon, ‘mega,” he chuckled, putting his helmet on, “It could be fun.”

Chancing a glance at the council members, you realised that no one really was paying attention. And it did sound fun, it certainly sounded like a distraction. Maybe that was exactly what you needed, right now?

You carefully stood up, smoothing a wrinkle out of your dress and looked up to find Paz's face fixed on you. Through the black visor of the helmet, you could not see his eyes, but you knew he was watching you. You could feel it, the tingle in your spine whenever this alpha focused on you.

One tentative step backwards by you was followed by one step from him, following you. The grass was soft under your shoes and the sun was warm on your skin as you left the shade of the tree.

There was something stuck in your throat that made it hard to swallow when he took another step.

Before you could debate your decision, you hurled around and ran.

The children cheered, and you swore you could hear one or two of the guards whoop as you raced around the meadow. You could not remember the last time you had run around freely, much less because you were playing catch. The wind in your hair felt freeing and you could feel a laugh forming in your chest.

However, you weren’t as fast as you thought you were because only seconds later, you could hear thundering footsteps behind you. And they were getting closer.

Paz really was chasing you and although you had simply wanted to indulge the foundlings’ wishes, you could not bring yourself to just … lose. You wanted to make him work for it, maybe even win, and you certainly did not want to put on a weak performance before the council.

Your hands gripped your skirt tighter as you lifted it higher, allowing you to lengthen your strides and you could hear Paz’s puffs of air as he ran behind you. Chasing you. Hunting you.

A shiver ran down your spine as you tried to ignore how your body reacted to him. Panic and something thrilling coursed through you when you could feel him at your back. The anticipation made your pussy pulse which had nothing to do with the fact that it was your husband behind you. Nothing at all.

There was a brush of fingers on your back and your heart lurched.

I’m not ready to go back, your head screamed, I’m not done yet.

And so, you did the only sensible thing: You stopped suddenly before sprinting to the sharp left, right into the woods.

Paz’s chuckle behind you made you feel all sorts of things (most of them which you tried to ignore because, again, your husband had no effect on you, whatsoever).

“You’re really making me work for it, huh?” he called behind you as you twisted around the trees, the trunks getting thicker the more you ventured into the forest.

Your response was only a laugh, jumping over a little stream that Paz must have just stomped through from the sounds of it. If you could just stay in this moment forever, maybe then everything would be alright. The kids would be safe and so would you because even if the council decided against you, there was no way they would find you here in the midst of –

“Oof!”

All the air left your lungs as you crashed against a tree trunk. You waited for it to hurt but nothing followed the slight discomfort of your sudden stop. Your back was against the tree but there was something between your head and the wood. His hand.

Paz had cushioned your crash, crowding you in with no means of escape while also cradling you to him like you were the most precious thing in the world. His body was huge, shielding you from your surroundings but instead of intimidating you, all you felt was safe.

Like this had been the goal of your run all along.

“Got you,” he rumbled and you watched as his chest rose and fell evenly. He wasn’t even out of breath, that bastard.

“And now?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He tilted his head and you hoped he would not ask you to elaborate. You didn’t want to admit that you like being this close, that you wanted to stay like this for as long as he would allow. The embarrassment would kill you, surely.

But then he tilted his head the other way and you realised he was listening for something.

When he heard (or didn’t hear?) what he wanted, you watched with baited breath as he leant back, putting an unacceptable amount of distance between the two of you, and lifted his helmet.

You knew what your husband looked like. You always had. For the longest time, you had convinced yourself that he was as ugly as your family had made him out to be. That his evil personality translated into an appearance that made him just as repulsive.

But now that you had spent time with him, that you endured his teaching and his cocky self-assurance and witness his joy with his friends and the foundlings and had him touch you – intimately – in ways no one ever had, you had to admit: Your husband was the most handsome man you knew. Inside and out.

(He was still annoyingly cocky, though.)

Watching his face be revealed to you once again, made your heart switch to an unusual pitter-patter, skipping every second beat and pumping so string, it almost hurt. The lines on his face, the crease between his brows, the crinkles next to his eyes, it all made your pulse run faster. And then he smiled at you, so softly, you were done for.

“Seems like I caught my prize,” he rumbled, his nose brushing against yours, “Wonder what I’ll do with her.”

“Oh,” you gasped, shifting against the tree, your hips bumping against his. His scent washed over you and you wished he hadn’t worn his full training get-up. You wished he had worn the soft pants he had worn that night, the ones you had been able to feel his hard flesh through.

Your husband seemed to be just as unhappy with your position because his helmet landed on the ground, cushioned by the grass, and his hands grabbed yours, lifting them above your head.

“Stay still and let me scent you,” he rumbled, one hand closing around both of your wrists, the other landing on your hip. His touch was hot, making you squirm even more. When his nose brushed over your scent gland, coating you in the smell of pines and smoke, you had a whole-body shiver. The kind that made you very aware of how wet your underwear was getting.

“Paz,” you gasped, tilting your head back so he had more access.

The only response you got was a growl. His hand around yours tightened and then his mouth opened against your neck and he sucked.

Was it possible to come from just this?

You wanted to touch him, you wanted to be closer to him, but his grip on you was steadfast, only letting you move however he wanted you to.

“You smell afraid, omega,” he praised you, the tip of his nose brushing all the way up to you just under your ear, “Am I scaring you?”

“No!” you protested quickly, eyes widening with fear that you had just pushed him away, “I’m not – not of you, I promise!”

“Shh,” he calmed you, dark eyes looking at you so warmly, “I know the only person you’d ever want to kill is me, love”, he whispered against your neck, “You’d never hurt any of the children and I believe you.”

You hadn’t realised how high-strung you were until his words registered in your head. Paz believed you. He had never doubted you. Even if everything went horribly wrong now, he was the one person in your corner whom you could trust.

The knowledge that he believed you lifted a weight off your shoulders you had not quite realised you were carrying. But now that it was gone, you could feel the fear and panic of the last 24 hours crashing over you.

“Oh, ‘mega,” he breathed as your body started to shake with tears. Paz did not loosen his grip. He stepped even closer, his front completely pressed against yours until he was close enough that you could tuck your head into the crook of his neck.

His hold on your hands went away and seconds later, he had you wrapped up in his arms, holding you while you sobbed into his neck.

“I didn’t do it,” you whimpered, “And I – I don’t understand what else I need to do to get them to trust me. I – they’re kids, Paz! I’d never hurt the kids.”

“I know,” he rumbled, “Let it all out, love. You’d never hurt anyone, I know. We’re proving him wrong today, you’ll see.”

“I’m just so tired of it,” you admitted, feeling your chest calm down, “I’m so tired of having to prove myself and no one believing me.”

Paz started moving and you realised he was slowly swaying you back and forth. “I believe you.”

And in that moment, it was enough.

This time, when you were called to the throne room, you felt hopeful.

Paz was sitting back on his throne, dressed in more casual clothes, and you could feel your cheeks warm at the heat in his gaze.

“Omega,” he greeted you, his voice filled with fondness that made your heart clench, “I called you here to convene with the council before Roalm comes in.”

You looked up, realising he had spoken true. The only people here were the council members who had accompanied you on your trip and Paz.

“Do,” you swallowed and shifted your feet, “Do you want me to defend myself now?”

“I see no reason for you to defend yourself,” Dieko said, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “The children seemed to have fun and were quick to identify which berries were good and which ones weren’t.”

“And when they were unsure, they approached you or Maudii to consult,” another one added, “And received the correct answer. You did a good job at teaching them, m’lady, and I am sure I am not the only one who would support our foundlings to have more trips to our lands.”

It was one thing to know that you would not be in danger of execution from the council; it was another to actually be praised by them. You were so stunned, all you could do was look at him, trying to find words of gratitude.

“C’mere, omega,” Paz called and you turned around, “I want you here for this.”

His hands rested on his thick thighs and you hoped no one noticed how nervous his request made you. Sitting on his lap wasn’t that extraordinary for them. You had learned from Maudii that that was how previous leaders had held court in this clan.

For you, it felt oddly intimate.

“This is less fun than the last time we sat like this,” he joked quietly as he helped you settle on his lap. Your ears burned at the memory of how his fingers felt inside you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, hush,” you hissed and he chuckled, his big arm wrapping round your back until you sat sideways on him. It was so much easier to focus on him than on the rest of the room.

“Let me tease you, love,” he rumbled, his nose brushing over your jaw, “It’s my favourite part of the day.”

You were about to retort something very smart, you were sure of it, when the doors opened and you were faced with Roalm. He looked worse for wear than the first time you had seen him in this room but his presence still made you tense, your spine stiffening until Paz’s nose was on your neck again.

“Oh,” you breathed, pines and smoke filling your nostrils, “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, love,” his mouth moved against your sensitive skin, “Anything to keep you calm and happy, hm?”

You ignore the flutter in your heart in favour of melting against him, fully relaxing against his chest and letting yourself be encompassed by his scent.

“M’lord Vizsla,” Roalm started, his voice wavering as his eyes darted between you and your husband and the guards surrounding him, “I am so –“

“Since you did not give my wife the benefit of speaking in her defence, I will return the favour,” Paz’s voice cut through the hall and you flinched in surprise. Where did all that anger come from?

Your hand settled on his chest and you could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady. But there was something sharp and acid tickling your nostrils and you swallowed. Paz wasn’t only angry. He was furious. And all of this on your behalf.

“Did you see my wife poisoning the children?”

“Uh … well, not exactly, but that doesn’t mean –“

“Did any of the children feel unwell?”

“No, but …”

Paz’s hand squeezed your hip gently and you heard his sharp inhale, breathing you in. “So, you mean to tell me that my wife has been trying to murder innocent lives without having seen anything, without having any proof and even after seeing how beloved she is by them?”

“I am so sorry,” Roalm whimpered, cowering before you. You knew he must be scared. Stars, you would be, too, if Paz were this furious with you. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel sorry for the man who had accused you of the most heinous crime.

“It’s too late for apologies,” Paz hissed, “You implied my wife deserved to be executed for her crimes. Do you think you deserve that same fate?”

Your head whipped around, seeking your husband’s gaze. You were angry, yes, and you were not ready to forgive him yet. But did you want him to die in your name? No. You didn’t want anyone to die because of this.

Paz met your gaze, his frown softening. “He’ll be unharmed, my love,” he whispered, quiet enough for only you to hear, “But he will regret the day he dared to put you in danger.”

The determination in his voice made your heart sing and you turned around just in time to see Paz motion for the guards. “A few days in a cell should give you enough time to think about the consequences of your actions,” he announced, “Now leave my sight.”

Roalm’s wailing lasted only for a few seconds before the heavy doors closed behind him and the guards and suddenly everything returned to its usual business. People filtered through the doors, talking in small groups and you could see a few of the guards leave while the rest took their posts by the entrances.

Everyone acted like nothing happened at all but you could not bring yourself to it.

“Can … Can I stay here for a while?” you asked, not trusting yourself to look at Paz to face his rejection, “Just for a bit?”

His response was immediate. His hands pulled you even tighter to him and you could feel him shift in his seat until your head could comfortably lie against his chest. The way your body relaxed into him was not lost on you.

“You can stay here however long you wish to,” his fingers gently circled your scent gland, “And you can return tomorrow, too, if you like.”

“I want you in my bed tonight.”

The announcement came after dinner when you both had retired to your rooms. You were sitting on your bed, trying to subtly arrange the many blankets into a nest, discreetly sneaking your dress in there as well. Only because it was soft, of course, and not because his scent still clung to it.

You squeaked at his appearance in your doorframe. Paz usually spent his evenings in the parlour, sitting by the fire and reading notes before going to bed in the bedroom that was meant for the two of you.

Ever since you had married, Paz had made it clear he wouldn’t force himself on you. But maybe after the excitement of the day, he had changed his mind? Maybe his protecting you was bound to some sort of expectation that you now had to fulfil?

The fear on your face must have been obvious because the grin he sent you made your knees weak. “Not for any marital duties,” he winked, “Though I’m not opposed to it if you decide you want to know what a knot feels like.”

Do not think about taking his knot. Do not think about what taking his knot would feel like. Do not think about how he would praise you for taking his knot.

“Why then?” you asked, hands folded in your lap as you avoided his gaze, “Why do you want me … with you?”

Silence followed and you prayed to the stars that he could not smell how wet you were for him.

“I need to know you are safe,” he said, finally, “I would sleep better when you are close by.”

You would never admit it but it was the first time someone had voiced genuine concern for your well-being. The thought of it made your heart ache. After all, you had lived your entire life trying to serve your family’s – your clan’s – best intentions and all it got you was their rejection and life in a covert that you had been taught was enemy territory.

It was easy, then, to follow him back to his bedroom and carefully settle on one side of the giant bed while Paz settled on the other.

Despite its size, it did not take long until you reached your hand to the side and found him under the blankets.

“You probably need to visit the foundlings more often after today,” you said, a smile on your lips as you remembered how they had used him as a playground, “they really enjoyed themselves.”

“And did you?”

You turned to the side, finding him already looking at you. There was something so gentle about seeing him in the dim light of the embers, the lines on his face all smoothed over, the thin sheet pulled up only to his waist. “I did, too,” you confirmed, feeling out of breath for no reason at all, as you looked over his broad chest, “Although the thing you said today …”

“Which one?” he enquired, his hand reaching out to pull you closer. A warm feeling started in your chest when you cuddled up against him, his large hand swooping up and down your back, “I say many things when the day is long.”

You smiled. “You said, uh, you said that you know the only person I’d want to kill in the covert is you,” you recalled, rubbing your feet together for warmth, “Do you really think that?”

“Is it not true?”

The casualness with which he said it broke your heart. Did he really think you thought so little of him? Had the past few months not affected him at all, so he thought they hadn’t affected you either?

“I wouldn’t want to kill you,” you said firmly, needing him to hear you. “Maybe there was a time when the thought brought me comfort but it’s been a long time since then. I … feel comfortable here. With you and the foundlings and Kroks and Maudii.”

Hu hummed in acknowledgement and in a matter of seconds, you went from feeling like you needed to share your feelings to feeling like you had overshared once again. Paz may not be interested in you in that way … Were you even interested in him in that way?

The answer to that was clear.

“Can I scent you?”

“Yes.”

He rolled you around so he was on top of you, his eyes serious. Just like in the forest, his hand found your wrists, pinning them into the soft mattress. Your foreheads rested against one another and your breaths mingled-

His eyes searched for something and you wondered what it was, wondered if you could give it to him.

“I need you to know, little wife,” he murmured, his thumb brushing steadily over the scent glands on your wrists, “Everything I do these days is so you feel safe and comfortable. If I can’t offer you that,” you watched his throat bob, “Then maybe I do deserve to killed by you.”

Your brows furrowed in protest. Trying to free your hands was futile because his grip was so tight, so you did the only thing you could. You lifted your face up, right to his jaw and started scenting him. The shudder that went through his body made you smile and you continued, brushing your nose to the point right behind his ear.

His entire weight was resting on you now, making moving impossible but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to move anyway. You wanted to stay here and breathe him in – the familiar scent of pines and smoke making you feel at ease.

“I am right where I want to be,” you admitted into the quiet of the night, your eyes drooping closed, “And I want to be here with you, alpha.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #etl!paz vibes

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