#lemme know if i need to monkey with this!!

[starry-skies-116]

THE SCRUNKLIES. THE SIBLINGS EVER 💚💛

[personnages]

Though Shangque is never quite comfortable when his lord leaves him behind for his business, he cannot deny that he is, well, used to it. The mist and the drizzle cloud his gaze, the cold an echo of the river he slept beneath for thirty thousand years. But then she speaks to him, and Shangque remembers that mortals easily get sick in weather like this. He turns and sits, as she asks. The black dragon's hands are never not warm, even in human form -- but he accepts the tea anyways. It's a kindness. Since leaving Cangyan Sea, Shangque has noted that those are not always as plentiful as one would think. "Thank you."

There is something about her, kind as she is, that prickles uncomfortably at the hollow of his throat. He has not yet identified what it is, so he watches her move about the pavilion with unblinking eyes. "Does this place truly shelter all?" It is only half a question. No matter how she answers, he is practiced at spotting lies; no matter what she says, he will know if it is safe for his lord to remain within. Still. He will not break the rules of the sanctuary, only facilitate a quick exit.

muse: bio page here open to : any random traveler?

"It doesn't look like the rain's going to stop, for a little while." Cool, light tone cuts CRISPLY through pitter-patter, accompanied by the crackle of low fire and the aroma of sweet tea, perfusing through the scent of wet stone and greenery and ancient wood. She stands in the frame of the pavilion, a slight silhouette almost LOST to the blur of hanging mist. "...You should come in and sit, before it soaks you through. I don't mind the company. And there's a cup of tea to warm your hands, should you like it."

[bilbo12]

Wukong cares about people. Macaque isn't a saint.

Alright, I've wanted to write this for a while, so here I go. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any typos.

I've been watching so many fananimations of LEGO Monkie Kid. They're all gorgeous, top of the top, excellent, chef kiss and I'm glad the fandom seems to be growing every day.

But I HATE how so many people have portrayed Wukong as an asshole who doesn't care about anyone. Love the animations, they're great but I don't think Wukong is the villain people make him out to be.

Now don't get me wrong, Wukong has made many, many, many, mistakes throughout his life. The thing is, people don't seem to realize that while he messed up, his intentions were good! "Yeah, right, then how is he such a bad mentor?" I'm gonna shut you up right there.

When MK first got the staff, he didn't know how to use it, I agree with you. But Wukong is a milennia old stone monkey who has gone through a lot on his life, getting stronger and stronger with each fight.

"Pfft, what about DBK? You can handle it! Consider it a trial"

That's what he tells MK when said boy asks him what to do with DBK, because for Wukong that fight is easy. He then reassures him that with enough confidence in himself he could take him on. He trusted MK since the first moment and even told him to consider it as a trial. He was evaluating MK during his fight to make sure he had picked the right successor.

And just in case and most probably noticing how nervous he was on his first fight, he kept an eye out on him to make sure to intervene in case MK needed help. Wukong already knew that MK was invincible before locking away some of his powers in the second episode, therefore he was confident that he would succeed. And even if he already knew he was going to defeat DBK, he still watched over him to make sure he wouldn't get hurt.

Following this battle, in the first episode "Bad Weather", MK doesn't call for Wukong's help. He's confronting Red Son when suddenly the staff acts on its own and takes him down to the ground and who appears afterwards? The Monkey King himself! Almost as if he had sensed that MK needed some help with defeating Red Son. Almost as if he had been the one to call for the staff so he could talk with his student. Again, he showed up on his own because he cares.

"Then what about that time he abandoned him?"

He didn't abandon him. To abandon someone is to stop supporting them, to give up completely in someone. Monkey King knew that LBD was coming back but he didn't want either MK or his friends to get hurt.

He's used to doing things on his own! I mean, on JTTW Wukong was always sent ahead to see if there were any demons that would kidnap Tripitaka. And even though he warned his companions numerous times that there were demons under the disguise of innocent people, they wouldn't believe him. So why should he tell MK and his friends that there's an enemy approaching? Every time he had warned other people of other threats, they had never believed him, so why should MK be any different?

I think that's one of the reasons why he didn't even try to defend himself when Pigsy snapped at him. Because he's used to taking the blame. What's the point in trying to do something right if you're going to be blamed for everything going wrong, regardless of how much you try to make it okay? He even tries to keep helping MK through his training with the astral projection throughout the whole season!

So, he searched for the map that would lead him to the rings of the Samadhi Fire, knowing full well that he could end up dying.

"This wasn't supposed to happen! I thought if I could somehow get the Samadhi Fire out of you, without hurting you of course, then I could put it inside myself. Then, I don't know, use it to burn up the Lady Bone Demon or something?"

Let's remember that while it's difficult to hurt Wukong, the Samadhi Fire is one of the powers that could actually kill him. He was willing to risk his life so he'd be able to save not only the whole world, but his friends as well. Do you realize how crazy that sounds? To be willing to give up his own life to save the Earth?

He even says that he wanted try to get the ring out of Mei without hurting her.

Would someone who didn't care about anyone try to make something as painless as possible for the victim? I don't think so.

Alright, let's focus on Macaque now for a bit.

My biggest beef with this guy is that some people seem to paint him as the misunderstood character who never did anything wrong because "Oh, my best friend abandoned me and woe is me!". Yuck.

While Macaque has many good reasons to be angry at Monkey King, that still doesn't give him the right to kidnap and trick MK. It doesn't give him the right to taunt him and make him feel like shit, nor the right to manipulate him and make him think that he's not a good successor.

"Well, you know what that means! There really isn't anything special about you. You're just some kid with a heavy stick!"

Macaque knew that if he hurt MK, eventually Wukong would come out to save him, because he knows that he'll protect him. This is a little theory of mine, but Macaque manipulates shadows, right? Who knows how many times he's watched MK from them? Because I don't think his plan to steal MK's powers was something he thought of in just one minute. No, I'm pretty sure that plan took a while to be thought of.

"Ah, MK. You really are dense, aren't you? You saw a story about a hero who got handed everything? Who didn't have to work for anything? And you thought you were the other guy? The second the hero got real power, he couldn't care less about his friends. That's you, bud."

He tricked him into sharing his insecurities, knowing full well that MK was vulnerable and stressed out about the whole LBD situation, then blamed him for not caring about his friends. He made him doubt whether he truly cares about his friends or not or whether he was even a good person.

And we all know how hard MK's worked to try to get control of his powers, especially after he lost them when LBD took away his staff. MK can be a lot of things: optimistic, a bit smug at times, a bit forgetful... But if there's one thing I'm sure of is that he worked hard to control his powers. He even asked Wukong to limit them so he could control them better, knowing that it'd be harder but he still did it.

And let's take into account that Wukong apologized to MK for how he acted towards him. Macaque, still to this day, hasn't apologized at all. And yet, he keeps mocking Wukong and saying he's the same old Wukong, while he himself is still stuck in the past.

I get that Macaque is angry at Wukong, I really do. But if he were really so angry against him, maybe he should've brought it to Wukong himself instead of using MK. He isn't a saint. He's made mistakes as well. These two are very complicated characters who have gone through a lot, but neither of them are blameless. Macaque isn't a saint, but he does care about some people. And although Wukong has made many mistakes, that doesn't mean that he doesn't care about other people.

Anyways, to finish it off, as MK once said:

"Uh, you know you two are the same, right?"

[jirsungs]

NO IDEA ☆ l.dh

pairing: loser!donghyuck x fem!reader

no idea synopsis: a story where both you and lee donghyuck seem to get what you want. he's the perfect pawn in making your ex-boyfriend jealous and the smarty pants tutor helping you pass your math class. donghyuck has it easy too, he's finally able to seek out and experience the world of dating through you, his long-devoted crush and surprisingly enthusiastic tutoring student. but then again, when meaningless tutoring sessions soon evolve into reciprocated feelings, is it really that easy?

genre: college au, nonidol au, fake dating au, social media au (includes written chapters), classmates to friends to lovers, he's a nerd & she's a popular cheerleader (you see where this is going), he fell first but she fell harder trope, kinda based off to all the boys i've loved before, fluff, crack/humor, angst, one-sided pining that turns into mutual pining

warnings: explicit language, unrealistic college partying, talks about family issues (this does NOT reflect any of the idol's families!), yuqi has an ex gf, some alcohol consumption, kys and sexual humor, bullying, hyuck and his buds are mistreated ☹️, hyunjin is a bad bf!!!, cheesy af, unrequited love, bad insults that sound like they're from the 2000s, HELLA miscommunication

no idea playlist: btr's no idea, taylor swift's you belong with me, the vamps + demi lovato's somebody to you, james arthur's can i be him, ariana grande's daydreamin, fitz & the tantrums' out of my league, shawn mendes' treat you better, bruno mars' just the way you are, lonely god's marlboro nights, the 1975's i'm in love with you, sam smith's like i can, arctic monkeys' wanna be yours

author's note: FIRST HYUCK SMAUU! how we feeling 😏 i needed to get this idea out of my system! plus, i love this type of trope, and haechan just fits the nerdy role 😭 I HAD TO! but happy reading :D <3

comment if you wish to be tagged for the story's updates!

profiles: "ncu freaks" + jeno 🤔 | gal pals & two men

intro. #manifestationiskey 🩷

ep 1. but a FAILING?

ep 2. i guess i'm her tutor

ep 3. WHY IS HE ATTRACTIVE

ep 4. COUGH y/n bag him COUGH

ep 5. i know i can treat youuu bettterr

ep 6. YNHYUCK PLOT IS FINALLY SAILING!

ep 7. bro texts with his 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 𝓪𝓵𝓹𝓱𝓪 mode on 🐺👅

ep 8. bro fumbled HARD 🤦‍♂️

ep 9. LET THE BOY LIVE!! HES IN LOVE!!

ep 10. THE HARD LAUNCH GOES CRAZY

ep 11. lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities? (written)

ep 12. jeno got me up... plotting

ep 13. AMAZING fake boyfriend

ep 14. meeting the ncu freaks? (written)

ep 15. #1 worldwide bitch

ep 16.

ep 17.

ep 18.

more to come. . .!

started: 09/06/24 finished:

© JIRSUNGS. ANY TRANSLATIONS/REPOSTS/PUBLISHES OF MY WORKS ON ANY PLATFORM ARE STRICTLY PROHIBITED! ALL COMMENTS, REBLOGS, LIKES, & FEEDBACK ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED! THANK YOU SO MUCH! I LOVE YOU, MWA! <3

[pixelscutz]

things jjk men say in bed ୨ৎ ! pt 2 .. ft itadori,, geto,, yuta ,, toji

yuji itadori

“good girl, your pussy is all soft and creamy for me.”

“god, your so fucking p-perfect..”

“okay baby, milk my balls dry, i’m all yours.”,

“f-fuckkk, you’re so greedy baby goddd, you look so sexy like this!”

“jesus–mmmph!

“y…yes, ma’am,”

“ohh shit-, is my cock all you ever fucking think about baby? bet you couldn't even last a day without my cock being up this needy, little pussy yeah?”

“y-yeah.. just like that..”

. "i'm — haahh — not g'nna last if you do that again."

"fuck, baby, gonna cum, i'm gonna cum."

"fuuuck, you're so warm... i'm gonna cum soon..."

yuta okkotsu

“hmmm—what a pretty sight,”

“is this good, my love?”

“you’re so perfect.”

“breathe*, love come on.”*

“please, love, i need you.”

“You feel me right here yeah, pretty girl? Tell me –hah– how you feel f’me? C’mon pretty speak.”

“it’s not that bad, baby, can’t we just try again?”

“fuuuckk- more,”

“hah- fine, but ‘m gonna have to…stretch you a bit, baby,”

“gotta get my baby all stretched,”

“mhm- tell me, baby. your pussy’s gonna f- fuckin’ kill me, hah-”

“you look—s-shit! look so pretty like this y/n. pussy feels so fuckin’ good. . . so fuckin’ soft. am i making you feel good? speak up,”

“please, please, please, more— don’t stop, don’t stop, i’ll do anything—”

“i said am thrust i thrust making thrust you fucking feel really hard thrust good?”

“you’re so cute,”

“stop.. ‘m admiring what’s mine..”

“already so wet fr’ me baby, gotta have a taste first,”

“keep your eyes on me love, want you to watch how wet this pussy gets fr’ me,”

"b-baby, don't—ah"

. “god- baby, ‘m gonna cum. can’t.. can’t hold it, lemme finish inside pleaseplease,”

“one more f’me please? You can do that right?”

suguru geto

“ooh, p- princess,”

“ugh- you’re killin’ me here with that pretty fuckin’ arch of yours, y’know that?”

“god- so perfect, look at you, girl. so hah- damn gorgeous when you’re on top, fuck.”

“tch- you’re gettin’ cocky, princess,”

“such a s.. slut,”

“yeah, give it t’me then, baby. don’t miss a fuckin’ drop.”

"princess, you can do better than that,"

"gonna have to be quieter than that if you don't want someone else to hear—"

"c'mon baby, ride me like you mean it,"

"you certainly had plenty of effort when you were sweet-talking those damn monkeys, didn't you?"

"you love this, love it when i fuck you like this, think you want them to see you like this, grinding on my cock like a slut,"

"that's it — you can lie, but your princess cunt can't, baby,"

"that's it, fuck, s'good for me,"

“mmmm- needy one, aren’tcha?”

“c’mon then- heh- mark me. use me. show off that m’yours.”

“anything for my girl. Because m’yours and yours forever and ever.”

. “f- fuuuuck, girl.”

“mngh- slutty girl, look at that ass tryna fuck me back. A for effort, i guess,”

“don’t look away, look at how your face gets when you…hah- slut yourself out on my dick, doll.”

“yeah, give it t’me then, baby. don’t miss a fuckin’ drop.”

“jus’ . . gimme a minute. think your pussy really hah- broke me,”

toji fushiguro

“no needa worry- m’yours, doll-”

“shiiiit- pretty lil’ thing, huh?

“don’tcha know how much m’weak for ya?

“don’t joke with me now, doll, spread those pretty hngh- legs n’ lemme see her. no need to be shy.”

“awww, c’mon **my wife- lemme hear those pretty noises.”

“good girl- good fuckin’ girl takin’ all of me.”

“c’mooon, pretty thing. let’s see that ass show me what it’s fuckin’ made of,”

“mhm- atta girl. entertain this dick girl, entertain- fuckin’- me.”

“ugh- fillin’ you so well gotta getcha niiiice ‘n round f’m again. can’t leave my pretty mama without a.. hah- fill,”

“fuckin’ shit, babygirl,”

“remember when you…hah- used ‘ta ride me like this on our honeymoon? heh, don’t tell me y’er still in love.”

“goddd- those fuckin’ hips. work ‘em, girl, fuuuck . . me.”

“ahhh- touch, but no looking, baby.”

“bratty girl,”

“heh- atta girl, that’s my girl. ‘m all yours ‘n y’know know it,”

“goddamn, i can’t.. feel my legs, baby girl,”

. “can’t stop . . cummin’ fuck-”

“mhm- she’s as nasty as you, babygirl. look at her swallowin’ it all up. so good.”

“no needa worry- m’yours, doll-”

[dreaminofdixon]

I always felt like more of a queen.

A/N:

Here’s another snippet from my story—one that I genuinely enjoy re-reading. I often find myself revisiting my work, not just because I love the story itself, but because I’m always making adjustments. Perfectionism keeps me tweaking things, even when I’m happy with how the narrative unfolds.

At its core, this story is about a relationship that begins with hostility—quite literally at gunpoint—and gradually evolves into something deeper. For me, the journey is the most compelling part. This particular moment is where the "Princess" nickname first comes into play.

__________

“Gettin’ dark.” 

I jumped, nearly spilling the precious fuel, and turned to glare at him while he put his weapon over his back. 

“Really, Daryl?!” 

He casually leaned against the car, obviously pleased with himself. A full day of riding had him looking the slightest bit more relaxed than usual and I was here for it. 

But he couldn’t know that.

“Why do you have a thing for scaring me? It’s rude.” I pushed him before returning my attention to the project at hand. “And yes, it’s getting dark,” I shot him a look, “thank you for pointing that out.” 

“Jus’ sayin. Should get settled b’fore long.” He glanced over my shoulder before looking back at me. “If yer out too much longer, lemme know an’ I’ll walk ya.” 

The corner of my lips curled up into a smirk and I faced him, hand on hip. 

“Are you…concerned for my safety?” 

“New place.” He brushed it off. “Dunno wha’s ‘round here.” 

“Well, I’m glad to know you care.” I held up the half-empty gas can. “I figured you’d wanna top off the bike?” 

“Yes’m.” 

He took it from me and I expected him to leave, but he stayed right where he was at and watched me pour a portion of the next can into the car. 

“Something I can help you with?”

“Jus’ makin sure ya don’ spill.” 

“I worked in construction once upon a time,” I told him while I focused on tipping the can into the tank just enough. “Not like…on job sites and stuff.” Carefully, I pulled it away and put the gas cap back on before moving to the next vehicle. “I was the office girl, obviously. But I learned a thing or two. Pumping gas was one,” the gas cap popped off the truck, “filling gas cans to take a couple gallons to guys on job sites, you know,” I explained. “And siphoning gas for just such an occasion.” I smiled to myself when I remembered that day. “I did have some good times. What about you?”

“Always a grease monkey. Tha’s how I know bikes.” 

“Oh really? So you are quite handy to have around. Not just a pretty face and a sterling personality,” I teased. 

I’m pretty sure he blushed. 

“I don’t think people give you enough credit, Mr. Dixon.” I finished emptying my gas can in the truck before I moved to face him and leaned my hip against it. “Truly. I think there’s more to you than you let on, and I can’t wait to learn everything there is to know.” 

“Not much t’ know.” 

“I doubt that.” 

“Hey, did you finish fueling up the truck?” 

The blonde approached us and I shook my head. I let my gaze linger on him for just a second longer before turning to her with a smile.

“Nope. If you wanna take over, I don’t think it needs much more.” 

“Great.” She moved between us and set to work. “How much do you think we’ll need for the RV?” She shot a glance at me and then Daryl. 

I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. 

“Not sure. Probably quite a bit, I’d think, but he would know better than I do.” 

“Ladies,” Shane interrupted, “it’s gettin’ dark. We’ve got some cars cleared out, and Lori and Carol put bedding and a light in each of them. Why don’t ya leave the fuelin’ for the mornin’ and go get settled in?”

“Sure.” She emptied the rest of the fuel can and put the cap back on the tank. “This one’s done anyway.” 

Shane took the tank from her and grabbed the other. 

“Come on, I’ll show ya to your spots.” 

“I’m gonna grab something from the RV,” I said. “I’ll find my way in a minute.” 

“We’ll wait…” 

“I’ll be fine. If I take too long, Daryl can walk me.” Turning to him, eyebrow raised, assumption made. “Unless…you don’t want to.” 

“‘s fine,” he grumbled. 

The two headed down the freeway, talking quietly to themselves and leaving us behind. 

“If you don’t want to…” 

“Can’t have ya walkin’ ‘round in the dark by yerself. Go get yer shit.”

“Well, I don’t have anything to get,” I admitted sheepishly. “Just didn’t want to be whisked away in the middle of such a scintillating conversation.” I followed him to the motorcycle and carefully traced my fingers over the chrome handlebars while he worked. “Plus, I know it’s crazy, but I kinda like spending time with you.” 

He filled the tank silently.

“I know it’s pure torture for you, though, and I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.” 

He scoffed, “no ya don’t.” 

“You’re right. I don’t. Because I don’t think it’s torture.” 

He set the gas can down and screwed the cap back on the tank before pulling a dirty red cloth from his back pocket and wiping it down. 

“I like to think that, somewhere deep inside, you enjoy spending time with me, too. Could just be wishful thinking but…” I shrugged my shoulders. 

“If it ain’t,” he mumbled while he focused on his task.  

“If it isn’t wishful thinking, and you do actually enjoy spending time with me, then I may go so far as to say it’s possible you might like me?” 

He looked up at me, his pretty blue eyes finding mine. 

Butterflies. 

“Could be possible that I like you, in case you were wondering.” 

“Couldn’ tell.” He winked at me. 

Swoon.

He tucked the cloth back in his pocket and picked up the gas can. 

“Le’s go, Princess.” 

“Princess?” 

He gave a single nod, “fits.” 

“Does it? I always pictured myself more of a queen, actually,” I joked. 

“Nah. Princess.” 

We began our walk in the direction of the RV. 

“Queen’s gotta have a king, right?” 

“Sure,” I agreed.

“Ain’t got a king yet?”

“Well, no, not yet.” 

He tucked the can away in the RV’s storage. 

“Then yer a Princess.” 

“Fine,” I sighed dramatically, “but only you’re allowed to call me Princess.” 

“Good.” 

__________

Thank you for all the love on my other little snippet. <3 I hope you enjoy this one as much as I do!

[lovedbysolaris]

Through Ash and Iron (6)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU.(She/her)

Word Count: 6.7k

A/n: I slacked last night to post this chap, ya girl was tired lol. f this 9-5 ON A SUNDAY- anyways yall enjoy lol

_________________________

The hum of the Undercity stretched below you as you sat perched on the edge of an old rooftop, the air thick with the scent of metal, oil, and faint traces of decay. The flickering neon signs in the distance cast an eerie glow across your features as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. The city buzzed with life, chaotic and unyielding, but up here, it felt strangely quiet.

“Brooding already?” Jinx’s familiar voice broke the silence.

You turned your head slightly to see her slinking toward you, her wild hair catching the light like a chaotic halo. She plopped down next to you with her signature reckless ease, her legs swinging freely over the edge as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“I don’t brood,” you shot back with a smirk. “You’re confusing me with Vi.”

Jinx snorted. “Vi’s brooding is all fists and scowls. You? You’re more of a ‘mysterious loner with a tragic backstory’ kind of brooding. Very cinematic.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Yeah? And what’s your deal? Crazed powder monkey with a flair for dramatics?”

She gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. “Excuse me, but I prefer the term artistic mastermind.”

“Sure,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “That’s definitely what people call you.”

The banter continued, sharp and fast, each quip met with equal intensity. But then, amidst the teasing, Jinx’s voice softened just slightly. “I missed this.”

You glanced at her, your smirk fading into something gentler. “Missed what? My dazzling wit?”

“Maybe,” she said with a sly grin, but her eyes betrayed her vulnerability. “Missed you.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the weight of everything you both had been through pressed down like a storm cloud. Without thinking, you reached out and took her hand, your thumb brushing over her scarred knuckles.

Jinx’s gaze dropped to your arm, her sharp eyes catching the faint lines of ink peeking from under your sleeve. “What’s with all these tattoos, anyway?” she asked, tilting her head. “You never told me.”

You hesitated for a moment, the question digging up memories you preferred to keep buried. But Jinx’s curious stare was relentless. “They’re… a map,” you admitted finally. “A map my so-called family gave me. They told me it would lead me to something important—something I needed to find to figure out who I was. But it’s from my past, and I haven’t looked at it in years.”

Her interest piqued, Jinx leaned closer. “A map, huh? Lemme see more of it.”

Before you could protest, she tugged at the hem of your shirt, lifting it enough to reveal the intricate network of lines and symbols inked across your chest and stomach. The tattoos were stark against your skin, a labyrinth of pathways and cryptic markings.

Jinx’s fingers hovered above the lines before tracing them lightly, her touch featherlight. “This… this is insane,” she murmured, her usual chaotic energy replaced by quiet fascination. Her fingers stopped at a particular symbol etched near your ribs.

“Wait a second.” Her voice grew sharper, her finger tapping the symbol. “This. I’ve seen this before.”

You glanced down. “What about it?”

“It’s Silco’s symbol,” she said, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and unease. “How the hell do you have this?”

You frowned, shaking your head. “I don’t know. It’s just part of the map. I never understood half of what these marks mean.”

Jinx stared at the symbol for a moment longer before her fingers resumed their path, tracing the lines of ink as if trying to decode you. Her touch lingered, and her voice softened again. “You know, when I was a kid… I used to dream about someone like you.”

Her confession caught you off guard. “Someone like me?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice distant, almost wistful. “Someone who could pull me out of the mess I was in. Someone strong, who’d see me for who I am and not some broken thing. Someone who could…” She trailed off, her eyes meeting yours. “Give me the life I always wanted but could never have.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you, and without thinking, you leaned closer. “And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips curled into a faint smile. “Now I’ve got you. So, I guess… dream fulfilled.”

The warmth in her eyes pulled you in, and before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance, your lips pressing against hers. The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with all the unspoken things you’d been too afraid to say.

Jinx melted into you, her hands gripping your shoulders as if anchoring herself to reality. And for a moment, everything—the chaos, the pain, the uncertainty—faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet glow of the Undercity.

Caitlyn sat at her desk, a chaotic array of maps, reports, and scattered photographs spread across the once-pristine surface. Her office, once a model of order and discipline, now reflected the turmoil in her heart. The faint hum of Piltover’s cityscape filtered through the window as she poured over the last known locations associated with you. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, but she refused to stop. Not until she had something solid to go on.

“Commander Kiramman, there’s… not much to go on here,” the enforcer standing before her said hesitantly, his voice grating against her frayed nerves. “The reports from the Undercity are unreliable. And the last sighting was weeks ago.”

“That’s unacceptable!” Caitlyn snapped, slamming her hand down on the desk. The officer flinched at her sudden outburst. “I don’t care if the information is unreliable. You are reliable, aren’t you? Then do your job. You find her.”

The enforcer opened his mouth as if to protest, but the icy fire in Caitlyn’s eyes silenced him. “This isn’t just another case,” she continued, her voice low but seething with urgency. “I don’t want excuses—I want results. She’s alive, and I need to find her before someone else does.”

The officer nodded nervously and backed out of the room, leaving Caitlyn alone with her thoughts. She leaned back in her chair, running a hand over her face as a wave of emotion washed over her. She couldn’t shake the guilt, the memories of what she had done to you.

For weeks, Caitlyn had been consumed by a singular need to find you—not to capture you, not to punish you, but to make things right. Now that she knew the truth, that Ambessa had fed her lies and manipulated her into believing you were responsible for her mother’s death, the weight of her actions was unbearable. She had hurt you in ways she couldn’t take back, and yet, she couldn’t let go of the feelings she still carried for you.

She cared for you. Loved you, even. That much she couldn’t deny anymore.

You had always been a mystery, but there was something about you that drew her in—your strength, your resolve, the quiet way you carried the scars of your past. And now, knowing you had been innocent all along, those feelings burned even brighter, mixed with an aching need to atone.

She stood abruptly, her decision made. Grabbing her coat, she strode out of the office and made her way to the grand steps of Piltover Tower. By the time she reached the top, a crowd of enforcers had gathered below, their curious murmurs filling the air. Caitlyn stood tall, her sharp gaze scanning the assembled troops as she prepared to address them.

“This city,” she began, her voice steady but firm, “has been through hell. We’ve lost good people—our families, our friends. And in the midst of that pain, we’ve made mistakes. I’ve made mistakes.”

The enforcers exchanged uneasy glances as Caitlyn’s words hung in the air.

“I’ve come to realize that some of the choices we’ve made, some of the people we’ve blamed, were wrong. There’s someone out there—a person who was wronged by this city, by me. And now, they are in danger.”

She took a deep breath, her voice softening as her eyes drifted to the horizon. “Y/n isn’t a threat to us. She never was. And I won’t let Piltover’s mistakes take her away from me again.”

The crowd murmured, confused but attentive.

“I’m ordering a citywide search,” Caitlyn continued, her voice hardening with resolve. “Every corner of Piltover and the Undercity will be searched. I don’t care how long it takes—we will find her. And she is to be brought back alive.”

Her last word rang out like a commandment, silencing any doubts among the ranks.

“There’s another threat,” she added, her expression darkening. “Someone is targeting her—someone who wants to use her for their own gain. We cannot allow that to happen. I won’t allow it.”

Her gaze swept over the crowd, and for the first time in weeks, Caitlyn felt a sliver of clarity amid the chaos. She turned sharply, walking back into the tower, her mind already racing with plans.

This wasn’t just about making amends or clearing your name. It was about protecting you, saving you from the same forces that had taken so much from her. Because deep down, Caitlyn knew the truth: she still loved you, and she wasn’t ready to lose you again.

The streets of the Undercity buzzed with the usual mix of life and chaos as you walked alongside Sevika. She lit a cigar as the two of you moved through the crowd, your hood pulled low to avoid unnecessary attention. It was a routine now—your almost daily rounds to reinforce your presence. Let the people see you, remind them that you weren’t a ghost, that the streets still had a protector, even if it wasn’t the one they expected.

“I don’t get why you bother with all this,” Sevika muttered, exhaling a thick plume of smoke. “Your face is plastered on every corner. Pretty sure they know you’re alive.”

You shrugged, adjusting the bag slung over your shoulder. “Gotta stay ahead of the rumors, Sev. Besides, it’s not all for appearances.”

“Right.” Her smirk was as dry as the tone in her voice. “Totally not about that dish Jinx keeps whining about or those goggles you were ogling for the kid.”

You shot her a look, but it was playful. “She’s been craving it for days. And Isha… she’s been working so hard on her little machines. She deserves something nice.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, taking another puff. “You’re soft, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you admitted with a small smile. “But they make it easy.”

Her expression softened briefly, but then she leaned in, her tone turning teasing. “So, you and Jinx, huh? Gonna make it official or keep tiptoeing around each other?”

You scoffed, the tips of your ears burning. “I don’t even know what we are. But… it’s something. She’s something.” You hesitated, your voice dropping as the words spilled out before you could stop them. “They both are. Isha and Jinx, they make me feel… like I belong. Like I finally have something worth holding onto.”

Sevika’s teasing grin faltered, her usual tough exterior replaced with something quieter, almost understanding. “Yeah, well… don’t screw it up.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Her mood shifted abruptly, her eyes narrowing. “Speaking of screwing things up… you know Caitlyn’s been sniffing around, right?”

That caught your attention. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen her,” Sevika said, her tone casual but her gaze sharp. “Gathering troops, barking orders. She’s definitely on a mission, and I’m guessing it’s to find you. Word’s out, Spark. She knows you’re alive.”

You frowned, your mind flickering to Caitlyn and the weight of your history with her. But before you could dwell too much, you changed the subject, unwilling to let the conversation linger there. “What about you, Sev? When are you gonna stop babysitting me and get yourself a love life?”

She barked a laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, because brooding loners with bionic arms are a hot commodity these days.”

“Hey, I’m proof it works.”

Sevika rolled her eyes, shoving your shoulder lightly. “Shut up and go get those goggles, sap.”

The teasing put a smile on your face as you ducked into a dimly lit shop tucked into the corner of the street. The air was thick with grease and the metallic tang of machinery. Rows of mismatched tools, gadgets, and gear lined the shelves, but it was the sleek pair of goggles hanging near the back that caught your eye. You reached out for them, turning them over in your hands, when a voice from the shadows made you freeze.

“Well, well… if it isn’t the lost one.”

The voice was low, measured, and carried an unsettling familiarity. You turned slowly, your eyes locking onto a tall, gaunt man stepping out from the shadows. His face was pale, his sharp features shadowed by a hood, and his eyes gleamed with a cold intelligence.

“Singed,” you said cautiously, your grip tightening on the goggles.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he said, his tone almost amused. His gaze flicked over you, lingering like he was studying a specimen under glass. “But it’s me who knows you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.

“Don’t you?” His lips curved into a thin, cruel smile. “Oh, you’ve forgotten. But that’s to be expected, isn’t it? The past buried so deep, you don’t even recognize the name you were given.”

You narrowed your eyes, but before you could speak, he said it—a name you hadn’t heard with that voice since you were a child. The sound of his tone–it sent a jolt through you, like a trigger and for a brief moment, your vision blurred.

The purple flash. It came unbidden, your body reacting to the name like a spark to a fuse. Your heart raced as you blinked, forcing yourself back to clarity, but Singed had already noticed.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, his smile widening. “It’s still in you. Buried, yes, but not gone. I was right to be patient.”

“What are you talking about?” you demanded, but your voice wavered.

“Oh, you’ll understand soon enough,” he said cryptically, his words slipping into a language you couldn’t place. The sound of it was almost hypnotic, a strange rhythm that made your head swim and your body feel weightless.

You stumbled back a step, gripping the counter for support, your eyes unfocused. The world around you felt hollow, distant, as his voice echoed in your mind.

“Don’t worry,” Singed said, his tone almost mocking. “I’ll find you again. When the time is right.”

And just like that, he was gone, slipping back into the shadows as if he had never been there at all. You stood there for a moment, your breath shallow, your mind racing with questions you couldn’t answer.

The lair was dimly lit, the hum of machinery in the background blending with the occasional clink of metal tools on the workbench. You sat on a battered old chair in the corner, your hands clasped tightly, your elbows resting on your knees. It had been hours since you’d spoken. Since you’d even moved.

Your reflection in a nearby cracked mirror caught your eye. You barely recognized yourself. The sharp confidence you once carried felt dulled, replaced by something hollow, something unfamiliar.

His voice. That name.

“Spark.”

The word echoed in your mind like a haunting melody. It wasn’t just the name—it was the way he said it, the power it held over you. Your fingers twitched as you recalled how your body had responded against your will. A primal reaction you couldn’t control, one that made your stomach churn with disgust.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” you muttered under your breath, your voice hoarse.

Jinx’s light steps barely registered until she plopped down on the floor beside you, cross-legged and watching you closely. Her usual manic energy was subdued, replaced by something softer, more curious.

“Alright, what’s eating you, Big Shot?” she asked, tilting her head. “You’ve been sitting there looking like someone stole your favorite gun.”

You glanced at her, your jaw tightening. You wanted to brush it off, but the weight of the encounter was too much to carry alone.

“Do you know someone named Singed?” you asked, your voice low and strained.

Her expression shifted immediately, her playful smirk vanishing. “Yeah… I know him. He worked with Silco back in the day. Creepy guy. Always muttering, always experimenting. Why?”

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly. “I ran into him earlier. He… he called me by that name, Jinx. A voice I haven’t heard since I was a kid.”

“What name?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Spark,” you whispered, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. “And when he said it… it was like… like I wasn’t in control anymore. Like I had to listen.”

Jinx’s expression darkened. “What do you mean ‘had to listen’?”

You shook your head, struggling to find the words. “It was like I wasn’t myself. My body just… responded. I felt feral, like there was something buried in me that he was pulling out. I wanted to fight it, but I couldn’t. I felt… hopeless. Submissive.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jinx’s fingers tapped against her knee, her gaze fixed on you but distant, as if she were piecing things together.

“I don’t like this,” she finally said. “I don’t like any of this.”

“Neither do I,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “I need help, Jinx. I need to figure out what’s happening to me, why I reacted like that. And I don’t think I can do it on my own.”

Jinx hesitated, biting her lip. You could see the conflict in her eyes. She hated the idea of you being vulnerable, hated the thought of you needing anyone but her. But she wasn’t blind to the truth.

“You’re saying this is bigger than the Undercity,” she said quietly.

You nodded. “I think it is.”

She ran a hand through her hair, groaning in frustration. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but… you’re right. If Singed is messing with you, and he’s tied to whatever happened to you as a kid, we need someone who knows how to deal with him. Someone with resources.”

Your heart sank as you caught on to where she was going. “Jinx—”

“It has to be Caitlyn,” she interrupted, her tone firm despite the reluctance in her eyes. “She’s the only one who can help you figure this out. I hate it, but if it’s between that and losing you to whatever freaky science Singed is pulling, then I’ll deal with it.”

You looked at her, surprised by the resolve in her voice. Her loyalty was fierce, but this level of sacrifice was new, even for her.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, searching her face.

“No,” she admitted with a wry smile, “but I’m sure about you. If Caitlyn’s what it takes to keep you safe, then fine. But I’m not gonna let her take you without a fight. Got it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, the weight on your chest lifting slightly. “Got it.”

She reached over, taking your hand in hers. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t care how many towers we have to burn down. You’re not going through this alone.”

Her words settled deep in your heart, and for the first time since the encounter with Singed, you felt a flicker of hope.

Caitlyn’s quarters were dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the room. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional sound of her shuffling papers or the creak of her chair. You stood in the shadows, watching her as she slumped at her desk, her head resting in her hands.

Her once pristine space was unrecognizable. Papers were scattered everywhere, drawers left half-open, and an empty teacup sat forgotten on the edge of the desk. She exhaled deeply, her body trembling as she fought back tears. But eventually, the dam broke.

“I hate this,” she whispered to the empty room, her voice shaky. “I hate how much I care. How much I miss you. And you’re probably out there hating me after everything I did to you.”

You shifted in the shadows, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut.

“I trusted you. I loved you. Still love you, even though I shouldn’t.” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her hands to her face. “Even if you don’t love me back… I can’t stop. I can’t let go of you.”

You clenched your fists, emotions swirling inside you. You felt deeply for Caitlyn, more than you were ready to admit, but now wasn’t the time to explore those feelings. There was too much at stake, too many questions that needed answers.

Still, seeing her like this broke something in you.

Leaning against the doorframe, you spoke lightly, trying to mask the weight in your chest. “You know, your security’s terrible. Anyone could just waltz in here.”

Caitlyn froze, her tear-streaked face snapping toward the sound of your voice. Her wide, disbelieving eyes found you as you stepped forward, your lips quirking in a teasing smile.

“Hello, Commander,” you said softly, the playfulness in your tone betraying the tension in your heart.

She didn’t hesitate. Caitlyn launched herself out of her chair, her boots thudding against the floor as she closed the distance between you. You barely managed to catch her as she threw her arms around your neck, pulling you into a desperate embrace.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice muffled against your shoulder. Then, louder, as if saying it would make it real: “You’re here!”

Her hands found your face, her thumbs brushing against your jaw as she held you at arm’s length to look at you. Her fingers were trembling, her breath hitching. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I… I’m so sorry. For everything. For hurting you. For not trusting you. I’ve missed you so much.”

You let her hold your face, her warmth grounding you in the moment. “I’m here now,” you said softly, your hands resting on her waist. “But I need your help, Cait. I really need your help.”

She blinked, her tears slowing as she searched your face. “Anything,” she said quickly. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it. Just tell me.”

You stepped back, reluctantly breaking her hold, and removed your coat. Then, with a steadying breath, you lifted your shirt over your head, exposing the tattoos that snaked across your torso.

Her eyes widened, her gaze tracing the intricate lines and symbols etched into your skin. She reached out instinctively, her fingers hovering over one of the symbols near your ribs.

“These…” she whispered. “You’ve never explained them to me before.”

“They’re a map,” you said, your voice low. “My so-called family gave them to me when I was a child. I didn’t understand what they meant back then, but… Singed does. He called me by a name, Caitlyn. ‘Spark.’ And when he said it, I wasn’t… myself anymore.”

Her fingers brushed against one of the symbols, and you shivered at the contact. “He did something to you?” she asked, her voice tinged with anger.

You nodded. “I don’t know how or why, but it’s like… he has some kind of control over me. I need to understand what these tattoos mean, what he’s after. And I need you to help me find out.”

Caitlyn’s eyes softened as she looked up at you, her hands still tracing the lines of your tattoos. “We’ll figure it out,” she said firmly. “I’ll do everything I can to get you through this. You’re not alone.”

She pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping tightly around you. For a moment, you let yourself sink into her embrace, her warmth chasing away the lingering cold left by Singed’s voice.

You held her close, your cheek resting against her hair. “Thank you, Cait.”

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at you, her blue eyes filled with determination. “Whatever it takes,” she promised.

You nodded, a small flicker of hope igniting in your chest. For the first time in days, you felt like you had a chance to take control of your fate.

The dim glow of the desk lamp illuminated the worn records of Silco’s operations scattered before you. You sat hunched over, elbows propped on the table, flipping through the faded pages. Caitlyn had been quiet for some time now, seated across the room with her own stack of documents, but you felt her gaze lingering.

You glanced up, catching her staring. She didn’t look away.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, leaning back in your chair, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at your lips.

Caitlyn blinked as if pulled from a trance. “No, I just…” She trailed off, setting her papers down and folding her hands in her lap. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “You’ve changed me.”

Her words caught you off guard. You tilted your head, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I mean, the way I see the world,” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “I used to think everything was so black and white. Good and bad. Piltover and the Undercity. But you… you made me see the shades of gray. The hope. The humanity I ignored in the people I was supposed to protect.”

Her blue eyes softened as they met yours, and something in her expression made your chest tighten. You tried to brush it off, turning your attention back to the records in front of you, but her voice drew you in again.

“You gave me hope,” she admitted. “You made me believe things could be better, even when I was at my lowest.”

You were about to respond when you realized she wasn’t across from you anymore. Somehow, she was beside you, her presence warm and steady. Her fingers brushed against your arm, and your breath hitched.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the moment. “Cait, I…” you hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I’m seeing Jinx. And… I have feelings for her.”

Caitlyn froze for a second, then nodded, her expression unreadable. “I know,” she said quietly. “And I understand. I’m not trying to come between you two.” She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting slightly. “But I need you to know how I feel. How much you mean to me.”

Her voice wavered, and before you could react, her hands were on your face, her touch gentle but firm. You froze, your heart pounding as her gaze locked with yours.

“Cait…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Stay on task,” you added quickly, trying to redirect the moment. “We need to focus on what Singed is planning.”

Caitlyn sighed, her hands falling away as she pulled back slightly. “You’re right,” she said, though her eyes lingered on you a moment longer. Then, as if something clicked, her gaze sharpened, and she leaned closer again, her eyes catching on the faint symbol etched onto the side of your neck.

“What’s this?” she asked, her fingers brushing lightly over the mark.

You frowned. “It’s part of the map. Why?”

Caitlyn stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor as she crossed the room. She rifled through a stack of papers, muttering to herself until she pulled out a crumpled sheet. Her eyes darted between the paper and your neck, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“This symbol,” she said, holding the paper up for you to see. “It’s tied to Hextech. There’s someone who might be able to help us. They’ve worked on experimental tech, mapping neural pathways, and… well, they might know how to decipher this.”

You stared at the paper, the symbol on it eerily similar to the one on your skin. Your fingers brushed over the mark on your neck as unease and curiosity warred within you.

“Who are we talking about?” you asked, your voice steady despite the knot forming in your stomach.

Caitlyn looked at you, her resolve clear. “Heimerdinger,” she said. “If anyone can help us, it’s him.”

The faint, persistent hum of that voice had been tormenting you all evening, like a needle threading through the fabric of your thoughts. You tried to ignore it, to push it back where it belonged, but its grip only tightened.

The teacup slipped from your trembling hands and shattered against the floor, porcelain shards scattering like stars across the wooden boards. Your knees buckled, your hands flying to your head as a scream tore loose from your throat—a sound that was raw, primal, and animalistic.

Your vision spun, flashes of fragmented memories—or perhaps illusions—assaulting you. Faces you didn’t recognize, voices layered over each other in chaos, the faint glow of a strange symbol seared into your mind. And the voice. That commanding, icy voice calling you by a name you hadn’t heard in decades.

“Spark,” it whispered. It echoed, again and again, rattling inside your skull.

“Y/n!” Caitlyn’s voice cut through the haze. Her footsteps were quick as she rushed to your side, dropping to her knees beside you. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

You couldn’t answer her. You couldn’t see her. Your eyes were wide, flickering between their natural gray and an unnatural, glowing purple. Caitlyn froze, her hands hesitating in midair as your gaze snapped toward her.

Her breath caught. “Your eyes…” she whispered, fear lacing her voice.

Your breath was ragged, shallow, as if something deep and primal was clawing to the surface. The world blurred, your senses heightening in unnatural ways—every sound sharp, every scent piercing. You were becoming something unrecognizable, something feral.

Through sheer will, you found a sliver of control. With trembling hands, you fumbled into your pocket and pulled out the emergency flare Jinx had given you. Your hands shook as you thrust it toward Caitlyn, your voice a low, broken rasp.

“Go,” you managed.

She stared at you, stunned for a moment, before the severity of the situation sank in. Without hesitation, Caitlyn grabbed the flare and sprinted to the nearest rooftop. The night swallowed her footsteps, and moments later, a sharp hiss filled the air as the flare ignited.

The smoke rose thick and red, a stark beacon against the starless sky.

->

Jinx sat at her workbench, goggles perched on her forehead as she tinkered with a delicate trinket. She worked with an uncharacteristic focus, her tools clicking against the small device. A faint smirk played on her lips as she muttered to herself, occasionally shooting Isha a glance.

Isha sat nearby, her small frame rigid and tense, her wide eyes darting between Jinx and the object in her hands. The girl’s expression said everything: curiosity, apprehension, and admiration, all swirling together.

Jinx noticed the look and wagged her finger, a teasing grin curling her lips. “This little beauty? It’s not gonna bite, kid. Unless I screw up. Then…well…” She mimicked an explosion with her hands, laughing as Isha’s eyes widened further.

Isha’s head snapped up, though, her gaze fixed on the window. Her lips parted slightly, her brows knitting together in concern.

“What is it, gremlin?” Jinx asked, not bothering to look up. “I swear if it’s another—”

Her voice died as her eyes followed Isha’s line of sight. The flare burned bright in the sky, its red smoke twisting like a serpent against the black.

Jinx froze. The world seemed to stop around her. Her breathing quickened, her pulse pounding in her ears. Without a word, she sprang to her feet, her stool clattering to the ground.

Her workbench became a blur of movement as she scrambled to grab her weapons, tools, and anything she might need. Every motion was frantic, precise, desperate.

Sevika was making her way to Jinx’s lair when the chaos hit. The red smoke was unmistakable, its ominous glow visible even through the smog of the Undercity. She turned the corner just as Jinx barreled into her, nearly knocking them both over.

“What the hell—” Sevika began, but Jinx’s hand gripped her collar before she could finish.

“It’s Spark,” Jinx blurted, her voice unsteady, her eyes wide and wild. She didn’t need to explain further; the desperation in her tone said it all.

Sevika hesitated for only a heartbeat before she nodded. Her hand moved instinctively to her weapon, her expression hardening.

“Let’s go,” she said, and the two of them took off toward the flare, their footsteps echoing through the labyrinth of the Undercity. Neither of them spoke, their shared urgency driving them forward into the unknown.

<-

The room felt impossibly small as you clawed at your mind for control. Your breaths were shallow and ragged, each inhale jagged like broken glass scraping your lungs. The voices—taunting, commanding, relentless—coiled around your thoughts like venomous snakes.

The table in front of you cracked under your tightening grip. Your strength betrayed you as it splintered and gave way, collapsing in two with a deafening crash. Your hoarse scream tore through the room, raw and primal, echoing against the walls.

You stumbled to your feet, your body swaying like a marionette with severed strings, and found your way to Caitlyn’s bathroom. The tile felt icy under your bare feet, but you didn’t notice. Your trembling fingers twisted the faucet handle, and steaming hot water roared from the showerhead. Without hesitation, you stepped under the cascade, letting the searing heat soak into your skin.

The world blurred as the water streamed over you. Memories began to rise, vivid and haunting, like waves crashing against the walls of your mind.

You were small again, no more than a child. The bridge stretched before you, cracked and broken, its foundation trembling with each explosion that rocked the air. Smoke choked the sky, and screams pierced your ears.

A man knelt in front of you, his face obscured by the haze, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.

“Sparky,” he said, his hands cupping your tear-streaked cheeks. His tone was warm, protective, but tinged with desperation. “Listen to me. You’re strong. Stronger than you think. But you have to go. Run.”

“I don’t want to leave you!” you cried, clutching at his arms.

He smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll find you. I promise. I love you, kid. Never forget that.”

Another explosion roared behind him, the shockwave forcing him to let you go. His body shielded you from the debris, but the force sent you stumbling backward.

“Go!” he shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the chaos.

You turned and ran, your legs heavy with fear. The bridge groaned beneath your feet as more explosions rattled its structure. Then, the sound of splintering metal tore through the air, and the ground vanished beneath you.

You screamed as you fell, the world spinning into a blur of smoke and sky. The man’s distant cry of anguish echoed after you.

The memory collided with the present as your scream ripped from your throat once again. You stumbled back against the shower wall, the water now unbearably hot, but you didn’t care. Your hands gripped your head, nails digging into your scalp as you slid down to the floor of the shower.

Jinx burst into Caitlyn’s residence, her face flushed with urgency. Her mismatched eyes darted around until they locked onto Caitlyn, who had already armed herself and was braced for confrontation.

For a moment, the air between them was thick with tension. Caitlyn’s sharp gaze met Jinx’s defiant one, both women silently acknowledging what neither wanted to say aloud: they both loved you, and they both knew it.

Jinx clenched her fists but broke the silence first. “She’s in trouble. You know it, and so do I.” Her voice was steady, but there was a crack in her tone, a vulnerability she rarely allowed.

Caitlyn nodded reluctantly, her grip on her weapon loosening. “I know.”

Sevika, leaning against the wall, smirked. “Well, isn’t this cozy? Two sides of a war teaming up over a girl. Feels like I’m stuck in a bad romance novel.”

Neither Jinx nor Caitlyn acknowledged her quip, but they both shot her sharp looks before heading down the hallway.

As they approached the bathroom, Caitlyn noticed the steam curling out from under the door. Her chest tightened.

“Stay behind me,” she said firmly, motioning for Jinx to wait.

But Jinx ignored her, shoving past and throwing the door open.

The sight that met them was chilling. You lay slumped in the shower, the hot water pouring relentlessly over your face and body. Your skin was pale, your lips parted as shallow breaths escaped you.

Jinx was the first to move, skidding to her knees beside you. “Hey! Come on, don’t do this to me now!” Her voice cracked as she shook your shoulders gently.

Caitlyn followed, her heart pounding in her chest. She crouched next to you, her hands trembling as she reached for your face. The heat of your skin against her palm was alarming.

Your eyes fluttered open, but they weren’t the gray she knew. They glowed an unnatural purple, their intensity sending a shiver down her spine.

“Y/n?” Caitlyn whispered, her voice barely audible.

You stared at her blankly, as if you didn’t recognize her. Then your lips parted, and a guttural growl escaped, low and feral.

Caitlyn turned to Jinx, her expression grave. “I need to detain her. For everyone’s safety.”

Jinx bristled, her hand already reaching for her pistol. “The hell you will!”

“She’s not herself!” Caitlyn snapped.

“Like I care!” Jinx yelled back, her voice breaking.

Sevika lingered in the doorway, her expression unreadable. “Oh, this is gonna end well,” she muttered under her breath.

The tension in the bathroom was suffocating, Jinx and Caitlyn standing inches apart, their heated argument escalating.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jinx hissed, her voice sharp. “She’s not some wild animal to be locked up in your tower like a damn trophy!”

“She’s a danger to everyone, Jinx!” Caitlyn fired back, her tone equally biting. “If we don’t control this, people will die. You can’t just ignore that because you—”

“Because I what?” Jinx interrupted, stepping closer, her mismatched eyes blazing. “Because I love her? Like you don’t?”

Sevika, leaning against the doorframe, let out a frustrated growl. She’d been watching you the entire time, noting the way your body tensed and twitched, your breath ragged, your purple eyes flickering faintly as if battling something unseen.

They didn’t notice the moment you stirred, your body beginning to rise from where you lay. Sevika did.

“Enough!” she barked, stepping forward just as you fully began to sit up, your glowing purple eyes locking onto the nearest target. With a single motion, Sevika’s mechanical fist slammed into your temple.

The metallic sound of the impact echoed in the room as you slumped forward, unconscious.

“What the hell, Sevika?!” Jinx shouted, rushing toward you.

Caitlyn froze, her face pale as she watched Sevika lower her arm, her expression dark.

Sevika turned on them, her voice sharp and unwavering. “You two were so busy fighting over who loves her more that you didn’t even notice she was about to tear both your throats out.” Her voice cracked slightly as she muttered, “And then Isha would be alone.”

Jinx’s mouth opened to argue, but nothing came out. Caitlyn lowered her gaze, guilt washing over her.

“You think this is a game?” Sevika snapped, her glare shifting between them. “You think any of this is about your feelings? It’s not. If she goes feral again, it won’t matter who she loves or who loves her back—none of us will make it out alive.”

Caitlyn stepped forward, composing herself. “We need to detain her. Somewhere safe.”

“Not the tower,” Jinx said immediately, her tone defensive.

Caitlyn frowned. “Jinx—”

“She’s not going there,” Jinx growled. “Ambessa’s there. You think I trust her anywhere near Spark?”

Caitlyn hesitated but relented with a nod. “Fine. Somewhere secluded.”

Sevika sighed heavily, bending down to lift your unconscious body over her shoulder like a sack of flour. “Let’s move. We’ll figure this out on the way.”

_________________

Well...

[angelchannieeee]

STUDIO SESSIONS PT |

Warnings:Kissing,cussing idk?This part doesnt involve smut but the other one does

Summary:Chan is your bsf,and tonight youre helping him out in the studio like usual,but it wont be a normal hangout like the others...

Idol!Chan x Idol!Fem!Reader

-This imagine happened in 2023,a little before 5-star era

You were friends with chan since you were a trainee in JYP.You were the quiet girl,who always hung out with the same 5 friends and chan was one of the lucky five.Everything was fine,until all your friends debuted,and you were left alone,but not alone completely-you were with chan.You shared the same lonely feeling being left behind and pulled away from your dreams.He debuted a year before you,and you somehow survived without him.

And now-5 years later after his debut,the same curly-haired boy stands next to you in the studio.You invited yourself like usual,bringing him dinner since the tall leader would do anything but take care of himself.

Since his stubborn-ass wouldnt take a break,you decided to help him with his newest track,with the upcoming album preparation for '5-star', your groups 4th full album and your recent breakup you guys barely had time for eachother so this studio night was everything you asked for.

You knew,deep down,that you had feelings for chan.How he squeaked when he laughed,how his eyebrows rose up when you babbled drunkly after a night out,how he payed attention to the smallest things and just cared for you in any way possible.It made you feel seen like a human and not the idol everyone saw on screen.

"I dont know what to add at the end"chan sighed,clearly tired,his dark circles showing it all."Lemme see."you responded,taking the headphones off his head and putting them on,taking a few listens and then taking them off."You need a fadeout,so take those background vocals from Seungmin and put them there,it'll sound better that way."you could feel him staring while you explained,then thanking you and fixing the end of the song.

"Thanks,youre a genius."he smiled softly,his dimples showing"Seriously though...i feel like for every problem or issue i have you fix it in a second...like youre a key..."his words showed a deep message,a message you couldnt respond to,a message you were scared of."I uhm..thanks,ill always be here to help."You replied akwardly"Sorry,i didnt mean to get things akward."he apologised,scratching his neck"No..no...it's okay,i know what you meant is true...i feel that way for you too."you blabbered out,and your heart stopped the second you finished speaking"You feel the way i think you do or am i-"he asked,but you cut him off"Yes, i like you"

Your breathing stopped,you could hear every sound in the room,every breath you took,and you wished you never said anything at all.Chan moved closer,moving some hair behind your ear"Can i...?"He spoke softly,you nodded.

The kiss was slow at first,like everything you dreamt of before.His hands cradled your face,but soon the kiss deepened,his hands gripping your waist in a hurry that was too jot to handle.

This kiss meant the start of a new beggining,a new chapter.And the more pages you flipped,the more the butterflies that filled your stomach.

[wisecura]

Try the Priest

Suguru x f!reader

summary: Your best friend, Suguru Geto, has a warrant on his head. You hadn't heard from him since then, and you thought your friendship was as good as dead. So why is he on your front porch?

Warning: angst, spoilers, imposing Suguru

AN: So, I wanted to try something new. It’s not heavily proofread or flowy so please lemme know what you think. Not sure if I’ll continue with a part 2 yet

Someone you’d considered your friend.

Went to classes with. Assisted in missions with. Fought alongside—taking down a variety of curses. Patching each other up after particularly grueling missions. Sharing many late night hang out. Staying up late reading shitty quotes from your favorite terrible books. Laughing til your sides ached and tears pooled your eyes. Braiding his hair. Telling him secrets you’d never shared—not even with Satoru.

And it came with the territory.

Doing your best to pull him up from his down in the dumps energy. Noticing him sinking deeper into his mangled thoughts. Hugging him and telling him you were there for him if he ever needed. Begging him to just talk to you, and feeling utterly worthless when you couldn’t genuinely cheer him up. When it seemed he couldn’t confide in you. When it seemed he didn’t think of you the way you’d thought of him. Putting those feelings aside, because you couldn’t stand to see him so unhappy. Bringing him food when it seemed he just couldn’t remember to eat—long-since losing the urge. His mind lingering on the taste of each consumed curse. In his moments of hysteria, when he was curled up on your mattress—so lost and broken that you hardly recognized the man you once knew—he’d would finally confess those thoughts swirling in his mind.

Suguru Geto was someone you considered your best friend.

But you no longer recognized the man on the camera before you. The pale walls closing in on you. Photos strewn on corkboard. The man, you’d heard, slaughtered a village of people. assuming the leader role in an infamous cult. The same cult who incentivized Riko Armani’s death only months prior. You weren’t the only one absorbing this information, but it felt so personal. His betrayal. His defection. His indifference to you and the others.

But, more than anything, you’d felt so very guilty. The man you called your best friend—your closest friend, hadn’t relied on you in his darkest moments. Not really. You blamed yourself for this. For the deaths of hundreds. The look of pure agony on your second best friends face when he’d heard the news. Your lack of intervention when you’d seen him spiraling off the rocker. When he’d utter the word ‘filthy monkeys’ under his breath, like a broke record sputtering out. You been the only one around him during those times. When he’d lost all that weight, developing those dark circles on his normally handsome face. You had seen the signs, where even Satoru might not have. But you hadn’t thought he’d form an outlet like this. He’d lash out like this. You couldn't have known. They were both grieving in their own ways, after all.

‘—SUGURU GETO FLED. IN ACCORDANCE TO ARTICLE 9 OF THE JUJUTSU REGULATIONS, HE IS NOW CONSIDERED A CURSE USER AND SUBJECT-TO EXECUTION.’

You instinctively tune out the notice. Numbness seeping into your very fiber. The cold, frigid air of the underground cellar surrounding you. You’d never thought there’d be a day, not even in the deep recesses of your mind, that the righteous sweetheart, Suguru Geto, would be subject to an execution order. Let alone become the cause of hundred of innocent deaths, and the fear behind many. You desperately wanted to talk to him. Desperately wanted to see him again. Ask him if it was true. If it wasn’t a ploy to jerk the chains of the special grade sorcerers. But you were also hit with the small, yet so present, urge to ignore it. To pretend you hadn’t heard it and assume nothing was amiss. That this wasn’t actually happening. And that Suguru was lounging at your apartment, probably hogging the space of your couch. Taking over your bed space just to get on your nerves. Scavenging the snacks you secretly kept for him in your fridge. Or scrolling mindlessly through his phone at your kitchen table, teasingly asking you what took you so long to get back.

But that isn’t where you were. And that wasn’t what was going to happen. And Suguru Geto was a notorious murderer at large. He was as good as dead, along with those he now associates with.

In the months following, you…survived. You’d often have Satoru or Shoko over, they surprisingly took it better than you had. Satoru especially pain closer attention to your actions. Likely in response to missing all of the signs with Suguru. Or maybe because he knew just how close you two had been. You’d often zone out for days. Satoru would shovel spoonfuls of strawberry cake into your mouth, insisting that at least it was something. And at least you got your calories. You found yourself mistaking their presence, on more than one occasion, for Suguru’s. Which would lead to another breakdown that’d require fussing over. But you’ll give yourself credit here. You’d finally,after several long grueling months, set into your previous rhythm. You didn’t require as much maintenance—feeding and cleaning yourself. And you needed much less reassurance—no he wasn’t dead, yet.

Then you saw him. The shadow of a man that had been impersonating Suguru, was now restored to his full former glory. You’d almost thought you’d saw a ghost, opening the late night knocks like that. Standing right next to your pot of camellias, holding a few letters seemingly from your mailbox. A small grin crossing his face, as those eyes lit up oh-so-slightly at your appearance at the door.

Feeling far to nostalgic for comfort.

He looked good. Healthier. Stronger. You wanted to feel scared. Wanted your body to match your mind, to flee from this terror of a man that’s been causing you so much grief lately. But your body just didn’t respond to him that way. Refused to.

You felt a sigh of relief leave your lips, unwittingly, as you stared up into those purple eyes. You thought you’d never see those again. You thought the next time would be when he’d be lying on a steel table, draped in white linens. No—not again. Never alive.

“Suguru” you say to yourself, words nearly a whisper, with disbelief coating each syllable. He nods at you, his lips never dropping that eye capturing smile. “In the flesh.”

You stare at him for a moment, not sure how to react. Why was he here?

“What…what are you doing here?” Your voice strained, and though you didn’t want to admit it, you could feel the back of your throat well up slightly. You knew if you were t careful, you’d revert to the you from months before. You seemed to catch him off guard with your word, as he looked away, having the gal to come off shy.

“Can I come in?” After a second, you nod, peaking your head around the doorframe—your apartments walkway, not seeing a soul in sight. He stood firm as you come within touching distance of him, cautiously peering the corners, before taking a few steps aside to let him in.

As he steps through your front door, you’re left feeling…small. Unbearably so. He was always tall, but you’d never seen him so imposing. The Buddhist priest attire, though not entirely surprising, was so new. So different. And all the same, it made him much more intimidating. You continue stepping back a few paces as he makes his way inside, before he closes the door himself. He carries himself to your living room, your floor plan memorized. He’d been there—practically lived there—enough times in the years you’d known him.

This wasn’t a man you knew.

“Geto, you shouldn’t be here.” He gave small acknowledgement to the distinct line you drew in your words. You speech painfully formal, your tone a pressed politeness. The only hint of irritation showing in his shoulders and the way his smile tightened. Your name—your first name, fell from his lips in absolute familiarity. “Its been a while.”

You stare at him dumbfounded for a second, as he makes his way to your couch, settling in. As if you’d invited him in for an afternoon cup of tea. His energy took up the whole room, looking so out of place. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what he was doing.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet, here I am.”

“Why—why are you here, Geto.”

His eye finally trail back to you at the sound of your voice spitting his last name out, so coldly. He’d been taking in the space, searching for changes in his surroundings. Searching for changes in you.

“I can’t just visit an old friend?” Your arms tighten around yourself in a self soothing gesture. Nails biting into your skin. You pull your gaze from him, not able to maintain the somewhat defiant stare.

“You can’t just show up unannounced. If they find you here—“

“Still worrying about me?”

“It’s dangerous for you to be here. Not for you. Not for me. You should g—“

“I missed you.”

The words stalled your thought process. The words ringing in the air, not settling properly. He wasn’t the Suguru you remember. He was entirely different. But those words still carried that familiar softness, the one he’d always reserved for you or Satoru. The ones that never failed to melt your heart, and make you cave.

“You…missed me?” The silence strung through the air. Buzzing. His grin grew at the hesitation through your voice. The confusion. He leaned back into the couch, taking a lax stance that didn’t fit the unwelcome atmosphere. Far too confident in your opinion.

“Of course I missed you. Did you think I wouldn’t?” As if he wasn’t a mass murderer. As if he hadn’t left you and Satoru.

“I…” you stalled again. Just what were you supposed to say to that? To him? After all this time.

“Why are you really here, Geto.”

“Suguru.” You stare at him, in disbelief, eyes narrowing. “It’s Suguru. Don’t act like you don’t know me anymore.” He’s saying this as if it were the most important thing in the world. Not the fact that he was a wanted man.

“I don’t know you. And I don’t know why you’re here. Leave before I-“

“Before you what? Kill me?” The words were a sharp taunt. He knew you wouldn’t. Knew you couldn’t. Your chest tightened at the thought, his words a blade pressed against your neck. You muttered out, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

And, ignoring you, he persists. “You won’t though. Will you?” The challenge there. “That’s not who you are.”

“You don’t decide who I am.” You nearly hiss, “you of all people don’t get to walk in here, acting like nothing has changed. Like everything’s okay—like we’re okay.” His eyes darkened at your words, and his smile faded.

“I never said nothing has changed. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk. After everything we’ve been through-“

“Everything we've been through?” His words felt so thoughtless at the time, not entirely realizing the provoking nature. You were practically shouting at this point. “You mean everything you walked away from? Everything you destroyed?”

He didn’t even flinch. His voice calm and firm, “I didn’t come back to argue. I came back to see you.”

“Why?” The word burst from your mouth, raw and sharpened with each emotion you’d felt since he’d left. The thoughts and feeling piling up by the second. His words inciting another to add to the pot. “Why me? After everything—after everyone—why did you come here?”

His eyes remained fixed on you for a moment. Your shouting hadn’t fazed him in the slightest. He’d had to have expected it. You’re almost panting, each nerve ending abuzz. Boarding on another mental breakdown.

When he finally did speak, his voice was lower. Almost hesitant. “Because you’re the only one I can’t leave behind.” You search his face, desperately searching for a hint of deception. Searching for a lie. But this man was never one for lying, at least he hadn’t been.

Your voice comes out a whisper, shaky and somewhat wound up, “That’s not fair. You don’t get to say that. Not after what you’ve done.” You could feel the build up behind your eyes. Red, hot, and unwitting. You held back as much as you could, showing him no weakness. But you’d already failed in that aspect. Much like how you failed in the ending of your friendship with him.

“I know it isn’t fair.” His voice about as soft and quiet as yours now. “But it’s the truth. I couldn’t do it. I tried.”

The room was much too suffocating. Your eyes much to hot. His confession hitting like a sucker punch to the jaw. The meaning behind his words, shallowly beneath the surface tension. But you wouldn’t be reaching for it. You felt so utterly worn—which is such a shame since you’d finally been getting back to a somewhat normal pace.

Here comes this man, crashing back in and challenging your every moral—your very being once again. You mustered up the courage—mustered up the strength to set him straight. To set yourself straight.

“You should go.” Barely audible. Yet the silence of the room reverberated each word, clearly. His eyes tried to catch your gaze, as you made it you mission to get him out of there as quickly as possible. Save that sanity.

“Do you really want me to?”

“Yes.” You respond immediately, but it sounded so hallow. Automated, at best. Even to you.

“Then tell me to leave. Tell me to get out of your life. Now. Tell me you don’t miss me. That you don’t want me here.”

Your throat tightened up, a lump forming that was impossible to swallow. Each line he gave, more abrasive than the last. You open your mouth ready to deal that final blow—reaffirm those words, but closed it again. He watched you closely, his expression unreadable. For the first time, you’re coming to terms with just how much you missed him. Just how deeply you cared for him. Your best friend. Your closest confidant. Your high school crush. Your everything. There was so much left unspoken between you two. Were you ready to throw it away? Would you lose your standing in the sorcerer world and be exiled too? Would you be okay with that?

“I thought so.” He said, a hint of satisfaction staining his tone. You try to ignore the tears threatening to spill over. The thoughts racing in your head. You physically pull away, your back finally to him. You can’t stand to see his face, let alone handle this situation right now.

You loved Suguru Geto. And it seemed he felt something for you.

Your back stayed to him. For a moment that stretched far too long, neither of you spoke a word. His last words were left floating in you’re head. Had it really been as hard for him to leave as it had been for you? You found the love for him deep below the anger and betrayal. But that didn’t mean you could act on it. It didn’t mean things weren’t different now.

Pulling you from your thoughts, you felt warmth at your back, before you had even felt his energy. Your breath hitched as his arms enveloped you. He was so close. Too close. Yet you couldn’t pull yourself away from the comforting gesture. You tilted you head back, hoping to catch the expression on his face, only to find those dark eyes already watching you. He was taller now. Much taller than before.

“Suguru, what are you doing?” Your voice trembling, much weaker than you wanted it to be. He didn't answer immediately, opting to watch you longer. His grip tightened around you, almost testing to see if you’d push him away. His head dipped to the shell of your ear, “Just…reminding myself.” Before settling into the crook of your shoulder. The hesitation was clear in his voice, making him sound much more…docile than a man that’d slaughtered an entire village or taken over a destructive religious cult. You almost felt yourself stiffen at the overly familiar contact.

His warm, earthy scent filled your lungs, encoating you in its sentimentality. You’d missed this too. You’d missed him. Your body settled for you, before you could pull from him. Before you could think of why you should be cautious around him. And the thought flowed from you lips before you could even process the desire to carry on this conversation with him. “Of what?”

“…That you’re real.” Your heart clenched painfully at his confession. You’d been wondering the same thing the second you saw him in your doorway.

This didn’t feel real. Maybe another nightmare featuring yours truly, maybe you could expect a ringing gunshot through the room. An astounding thud. Only to find him collapsed on the floor behind you, his blood soaking your pajamas.

His head dug deeper into the crook of your neck, almost nuzzling—as if he’d seen your thoughts. But he wasn’t aware just how much he’d put you through.

“Suguru…” you tried to sound firm, angry even—

“I know.”

You let out a sigh. Were you even angry anymore? Was this sadness flooding your chest? Sympathy? Love? Desperation?

“I know I don’t deserve this. But for a moment.” His voice even and constant, before breaking. “Please, for a moment let’s stay like this.”

come home

[fanged-fanfics]

Wukong/macaque x touch starved male reader who’s good at singing?

🧡👑Songbird — Eclipse Duo x Male!Reader Fic🌙💜

Genre: Fluff || he/him pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

₊˚⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨👑🌙୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

You were working on dinner for the night, having music play in the back as you did so. It was a common routine for you, as comforting as it was familiar. As you prepped pots and pans, the music started on a new song. You turned it up, humming along to the tune. It was one of your favorite playlists, perfect for getting into a productive mood.

Seasonings were added to the cooking meals as the songs continued. You began outright singing along to them, lowly at first before slowly increasing in volume. The home you shared with two troublesome monkies was empty at the moment, so there was no harm in turning it into your own personal stage. Who was gonna tell anyone, the dustbunnies?

Steadily gaining more confidence with your environment, you sang full-hearted melodies soon. The music always filled you with joy, the feeling of truly letting out your emotions with the lyrics being a welcomed one. The beat and tempo resonated in your head, settling warmly in your heart. You were so caught up in your work, in fact, that you didn't at all notice a bickering duo entering the home.

Right in the middle of carrying out a long note, you suddenly felt hands on your shoulder. You jumped, the note pitching up and breaking as a small yelp of surprise left you. You turned around quickly, seeing a snickering Wukong. "Oh!-" you began, turning down your music "Hey you two! Have, uh, you been there long?". "Not long enough, handsome" Macaque chuckled, leaning against the cabinet next to the stove "Come on, don't let us stop you".

"Maybe in a bit" you replied, flushing a little as you turned back to give your attention to the meal before you "I should really keep focused, I don't wanna burn dinner". "Awh, c'mon!" Wukong began, wrapping his arms around you from behind "You know we love to hear you, songbird!". You leaned into his embrace, keeping an arm around his "True, but really, this is gonna boil over if I don't watch it".

"Allow me, princey" Macaque said, stepping up to tend to the stove instead "You just worry about resting those pipes, dove". You blushed a little more, before wrapping your arms around your partner. "Woah, hey, hypocrite" Macaque said teasingly "Now I'm gonna be the one getting distracted". "You two have been gone all day," You replied with a bit of a playful groan "Lemme have this". You snuggled into the back of Macaque's shoulder, kissing the fur there as Wukong put his chin atop your head.

Macaque gave a little huff, adding a bit more to the food before properly assessing that it was ready. He cut off the stove, turning around to kiss your cheek "Alright, alright, I guess" he said lightly "Anything for my boy". Wukong gave a jealous little scoff, hugging you tighter "He's my boy too". You gave Macaque a kiss on his nose before turning and tilting Wukong's head to where you could kiss his forehead "None of that, you two, you know I love you both".

The monkey men relented, opting instead to let you burrow into both of them the best you could. They knew how much you needed it, especially after so much time apart. Macaque gently traced light patterns with his claws on your back as Wukong chirped happily, nuzzling your cheek. His tail flicked excitedly at the smell of the food. "Soooo," he began, pressing his cheek to yours, "duet after dinner?". You chuckled, leaning into his embrace before looking to Macaque hopefully "Maybe a trio?". Macaque snorted "Nice try, princey, but I'm not a showoff like Wukong is".

As the obsidian furred monkey carefully pulled out of the standing cuddle to begin helping with plates, Wukong pressed a kiss to your cheek "We'll convince him within the hour, watch" he said playfully, winking to you before giving one last squeeze and setting off to secure a plate

[itsabouttimex2]

I've been brainrotting on your LSO au so much and the bot is very fun to mess with. I've been brainstorming angst comfort, etc in my head, and I gotta ask

If Clover met Monkey King, and asked him to train them, since the Monkie Knight is, ahem, 'postponing' their training, would Monkey King do it? If he did, would MK find out? How would he feel about that? Especially since one of Wukong's way of training is just to throw them into battles

I don't know if this counts as a request, or a question, so take it as either!

Let’s Start Over:

Second Option

(Part One) (Part Two)

“I’m not mad at them,” the Monkie Knight hisses into the phone, gripping the metal tightly. “I’m not mad at them. I wouldn’t go to confront my own student if I was still mad.”

Mei giggles from her side of the line, lighthearted and airy. “You sound mad, dude.” The sound of metal clinking and fire hissing emanates from the background- she’s probably getting her bike worked on. “Like, super mad. Like you’re about to blow your lid.” Even after a full decade, she hadn’t lost her sisterly teasing and frequent ribbing.

“I’m not mad,” MK repeats. “I can’t be mad at Y/N. I did the same thing when I was a kid.”

“But you’re calling them by their first name, though?! You only do that when you’re mad, MK!”

“Or when things get serious. And if my kid might be in danger, then things are serious.”

“…promise you won’t blow up at the kid, alright? They came to me for advice before running off, so it’s not like they were running around recklessly.”

He’s not surprised to hear that. You had dubbed his best friend as “Auntie Mei”, and frequently went to her for help that he couldn’t provide, or information that he might be a little embarrassed to provide. Not that the Monkie Knight wouldn’t sit through an awkward chat about bodily functions or crushes with you, of course. Just that Mei was much better at it.

“I swear, Mei. Clover is just a kid- making the same mistake I made. I’m not gonna get mad at them. I’m worried sick because I haven’t seen them since yesterday, and they weren’t happy with me.”

“They’re… the kiddo’s out at that new burger place with the Monkey King.”

“…with who? With who?”

“Look, I’ve got the restaurant cam pulled up right now- I’m making sure nothing happens. They just ordered their food.”

“Nothing is happening?”

“Nothing,” she reassures. “They’re just treating the kid to a meal.”

“…thanks, Mei. Talk to you soon. Friday?”

“…yeah. Yeah, Friday works fine.”

MK smiles, just a little. He’s gotta be better for you. No letting his close relationships fray. He can’t set the example that fighting and living alone is acceptable. You need to learn to rely on others, so he has to put his best foot forward with at least a few people.

He has to be better for you.

———————————————————————-

“Aww, you’re the sweetest! But I’m not sure MK would want me doing that, bud. He’s pretty insistent on teaching you without help.”

You look away from the Monkey King with a sigh, focusing instead the basket of fries in front of you. You haven’t had much of an appetite recently. Lunch was especially miserable, given that your mentor insisted on big meals to promote proper muscle growth and high amounts of energy.

“Oh, don’t look so down! Look, MK’s just trying to do what’s best for you, alright? If he’s putting your training on hold, it’s probably what’s best for you. Here, lemme see your wrists…”

Sun Wukong takes your hands gently, turning them over to observe your still-bruised skin. His thumbs drag reassuringly across your knuckles, offering some small comfort.

“You haven’t even healed yet, kiddo. MK is just a little worried still, okay? He’s got your safety in mind, trust me. That’s what all of this is for.”

His hand drifts over one palm, the seal crackling into sight. And though a slight frown mars his exuberant face, the king fights it off to reassure you.

“I’m sure things’ll get better once you’re all fixed up, okay? You can bear with it a little longer- I know you can, Y/N.”

“Of course they can. They don’t have a choice.”

Both of you whip around to see MK stood near the table, his foot tapping impatiently. Arms folded over his chest, the man leans forward to meet Wukong’s eyes.

“Any reason you’ve got my kid miles from home without telling me, Monkey King?”

Though he expects to see anger, Wukong finds worry and exhaustion on the man’s face instead. Sleepless nights and long patrols.

Maybe it’s time the king stepped in, huh?

“Hey, hey- let’s talk outside, alright? No arguing in front of the kid.”

The simian leaps over the table with a fluid start, clearing it without trouble. He lands easily in front of a very unamused MK.

“…fine. Outside. As for you- I want to see you at least halfway through that basket by the time I’m back inside. Do not make me say it again.”

Folding under your mentor’s stern tone, you snatch a handful of the greasy appetizer and a condiment package, tucking in without a word. MK tries to remake the best out of even a bad situation- getting you to fill your stomach after a long period spent rejecting food makes him a little less upset about the whole thing.

“Are you mad?” Is the tentative question from between your lips.

“I’m not mad. Stay here and eat, Clover. Can you do that for me?”

With a nod, you return to the basket of fries, grabbing more packages from the end of the table. He’s angry (somewhat) at Wukong, not you. He wouldn’t still be calling you ‘Clover’ if he was.”

The Great Sage doesn’t have the same worried and upset expression- he reaches put to ruffle his old student’s hair, grinning ear to ear. With a lopsided smirk, he hauls MK away from the table and out of the burger joint.

And though the renowned Knight wants to launch into a lecture, or maybe even get physical- Sun Wukong interrupts his intentions with a big hug.

“I missed you, bud! I’m glad you’ve been doing well, huh? Sorry I haven’t been staying in touch with you!”

The hero freezes for a moment, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of warmth and unconditional support. God, when was the last time that he was just held? He really should be tearing into Wukong for taking you so far from home without permission or notice, but… it’s so hard to focus on anything but just how right the world feels at the moment.

“You… you need to leave a note next time. Or- or send a text. I worry. You know that I worry about everything.”

“I know,” the king chuckles, holding the knight like he was still a kid. “I know, bud. Just take a minute to catch your breath. I’ve gotcha, MK.”

“…you’ve got me?”

“Always, bud.”

MK allows himself to go slack, collapsing in the warm arms of the sunny simian. Wukong hauls him back inside, waving to you with a smile. He props the man against your side and slides into the booth with a hearty laugh, slowly rubbing his back.

“It’s gonna be okay, bud. Everything is gonna be okay.”

If he were less tired, less worried, less “running on four hours of sleep”, MK might have not believed him. He might’ve put up more of a fight. But his head is foggy, his limbs are already limp.

So MK puts his trust into the king once more, and chooses to close his eyes.

And for just a moment for the first time in months, maybe years- his life is peaceful.

[zombholic]

SORRRY i worded that wrong😭😭😭

like doctor!abby in a domestic environment lol, like how she is at home vs how she is with work

idk if that makes sense, if not don’t worry about replying hahahah

my bad completely xx

OOO I LOVE THIS QUESSTTIIOONNN, UMMM.

lemme like put them into 2 sections !!

—

DOCTOR ABBY:

- abby is definitely a neurosurgeon or a cardiologist like her dad was, she works along with mel and her dad.

- SHE STAYS PROFESSIONAL NO MATTER WHAT !!!

- which she’s doing checkups with patients she knows when they are flirting with her, like cmon who wouldn’t?

- abby uses big doctor words that would be too hard for your ditzy brain to understand so you just stick with whatever you’re doing.

- no like why is dr. anderson so fucking hot, when she’s sitting down, no matter where she is sitting THIS MUSCLE MOMMY MANSPREADS DAWG.

- omg don’t get me started on just her eyes when she wears a mask, she always wears a mask in the hospital unless shes in her office.

- as much as she loves her job she will always come back home to you!!

HOME ABBY:

- just regular abby at home only wears lounge wear, shes either in a tank top and sweats or shorts and a sports bra.

- she actually has a personality when she is at home or just around people that has nothing to do with work and this lady has the most dirtiest jokes to spill out her mouth

- doctor abby is proper and cute and calm, HOME ABBY BENDS U OVER THE COUNTER AND FAKE FUCKS YOU FROM BEHIND THEN RUNS AWAY

- leave u standing like “i will beat this bitch up”

- she will never leave ur side when she is at home, she is clinging onto you like a fucking gorilla sized spider monkey.

- yeah she’s like 10 years older than you, she is literally the most childish person and you love it.

- when she comes back home from surgery and a patient doesn’t make it, it really takes a huge toll on her and she just needs you to hold her, dont talk just hold and comfort her.

AN: i hope this is what you were looking for!! i tried my best, i literally wrote this on my 15 lmao😭😭

[uyunto]

Do you have if even a crumb of info more about Gunadimme Rustich? I wanna learn more about the snazzy white boy. (And all of your OCs tbh but... one thing at a time)

hi! i appreciate your interest in my oc!

gonna be honest: i have some difficulties in wording my thoughts about my ocs, like, when i get questions about them suddenly a cymbal-banging monkey jumps out of nothing in my head and starts executing some crazy cacophony (not even mentioning im bad in English lol)

i have a post with basic info about this setting (LiMB). it's pretty hard yapping about my silly guys out of huge context they have, so probably it's gonna be a bit (or a big) chaotic, i'm open to questions anyway

(okay first of all i think if he heard you calling him snazzy, he'd say something like "oh, am I?😏" 😭✌️)

anyways here are some facts about Rustich

- name: Gunadimme ['gʌnədɪm] Rustich ['rʌstɪʧ], i hope i did this transcription right. can be called just Dimme or Rustich (how i usually call him). in original his name is Янис-Тыну Ржавич (Yanis-Tynu Rzhavich / Jānis-Tõnu Rzhavich)

- he's 35 years old (in some part of the story he's 12-14)

- 5'8.50'' ft / 174 cm (pretty short in comparison to the people around him)

- browless redhead with dark black-holes-like eyes

- he's Aldethian

- madly in love with Stelliah

- bisexual (he realized he was attracted to his best /male/ friend all this time only in his 20s, only after discussing sexuality with Stelliah)

- plays saxophone

- likes gardening (he's genuinely fascinated by the process of the plants' life and their ability to endlessly copy themselves and enjoys the fact he basically can control that process)

- likes reading and gaining new knowledge in general

- I'd call him a politician

- obsessed with the idea of fixing everything Aldetha did wrong and building a better society (he's doing the same mistake Aldetha did, but shush, he's not aware of this so far)

- obsessed with ancient Lame-Ray culture and the "legend" about Lamprey

- got a fucking villa basically on the cosmic meteorite in the middle of the river (i know it's random but it is what it is)

- his parents were housekeepers in Aldetha. it's not a respectful occupation due to the rules and culture aspects they have there, so his strict parents did their best to make their son overtax his strength in attempt to be literally the best at everything so he could be in a better position in Aldethian society than they have

- because of the fact above even in adulthood he's unable to impartially see and accept his own achievements, like it's always not enough for him. he may seem arrogant and confident on public but it's simply a mask and behind this mask there is still that endlessly neglected child he once was. he always questions his own value.

- in conclusion, bro is just seeking for stability and acceptance all his life but that desire seems to slowly make him desperate for control and perfection and in the end it's gonna make him paranoid

- the rust and the dim fire are the things i associate with him

(of course it not all i can say about this character, but i don't wanna make this post too big, so that's all for now)

voice headcanon (teen) ⬇️

voice headcanon (adult)

i don't have much drawn stuff with him but here's some art i have just in case

and some memes i associate with Rustich 😭 I'd add more but image limit got my ass (if you need translation lemme know)

thank you for asking!

[simplyvalinor]

The consorts and their random physical features

because Voltage just copy-pastes when making their CGs, and that’s not what they actually look like. They are not all the same.

Rio

gets the most delightful patch of sun freckles across his cheeks. No matter how potent the sunscreen Thoma creates, it never make a lick of difference. He’s always reddening like a damn strawberry from all that garden and outdoor sword training. Definitely has the most wicked tan lines.

Lynt

The kind of skinny that is lowkey concerning.

Tino assures MC that he gets the precise amount of calories and nutrients he needs in a day. But bros hipbones???? Lethal. The hanky-panky gets downright painful if he gets too rough.

Tino

Tino isn’t just muscular he’s got those veiny, strong hands and thick fingers too. Watching him knead bread is a privilege. But he gets scrapes and bruises easily. MC spots a gnarly scrape on his forearm and immediately panics like omg tino are you okay???? Tino is like ☺️not to worry i just brushed against a cabinet earlier all is well☺️

oh ok…

It comes in handy with MC though. He likes seeing the bruises on his skin the next day. It makes him feel closer to her.

Roy

is the Saligian equivalent of a ginger in my mind. Argue with the wall. His face? Deceptively clear. You undress him and woah pinkish hued freckles EVERYWHERE.

Grayson

Calloused. Hands. Broad shoulders. Scarred from his days in the guard.

At events, in walks Roy and Sherry….oh! And there is their buff valet towering behind them all serious and straight faces. Don’t worry guys he’s a gentle and shy man 🥰🥰🥰

You just know those bitchy nobles talk shit about his lack of “delicate” touch meanwhile he’s exceptional at his job and valet duties actually require you to be in incredible shape.

Toa

Toa has long fingers. Okay, Mr. Monkey Fingers, lemme suck them.

Oh and he has terrible circulation, with veins so prominent they map his whole body. His toes and fingertips are practically purple. No wonder he’s always cold. Poor guy.

GET HIM A BLANKET, STAT.

Knight

The cutest wonky smile. The kind where a tooth grows behind another, making everything just a little misaligned. Adorable.

Aghhh, I just want to see him smile all the time.

Guy

Literally allergic to the cold. He has Raynaud’s disorder. The moment he steps outside into the cold he starts bitching and whining about his hands itching and burning.

He’s exceptional in every aspect of life, but when it comes to his physical build? Average. He’s imposing but it’s all in the way he carries himself. If he were even three inches shorter, he’d look like a damn chihuahua. Like, bro, stand down stop your yipping.

Average height. Average muscles. Even his endowment? Average-sized.

Jasper

Oblong. Get the fuck away from me Slenderman.

Aquia

Taller than Guy. Probably not true, but in my mind it is. He’s so insecure even though he’s got more muscles and stands taller than his big brother. Baby stand up tall, no hunching to make yourself smaller.

Fenn

Beauty marks and moles everywhere. On his throat. His shoulder. His belly button, even his ankle. Hell, there’s one on his left nipple too. Lemme kiss each one💋

Lou

Hairless. The thinest eyebrows to ever thin and sparse eyelashes. Nothing on his arms or legs or chest or groin. MC’s like uhmm do you wax or something how are this smooth. Lou is confused. what’s waxing???

Dia

Has mild androgen insensitivity syndrome, hence why he’s androgynous. During puberty, he developed small breasts, but despite others trying to “correct” them with magic, Dia has never minded them.

Lance

MY MAN IS HAIRY! Come on now, we all know he doesn’t shave. He’s got nice bushy eyebrows and immaculate chest hair and happy trail.

Maybe a bit of an excessive bush…

He does however, shave his face bc he can only grow a mustache and he looks ridiculous with it.

[jupiter-letters]

Klaus Hargreeves NSFT Headcanons💓

Anon Requested: Clawing at the walls rn. Can you write nsfw Klaus hcs?

A/N: Need to get back into writing again to start the healing process after season 4. I'm seeing some other writers do that now which is really funny and comforting. I've been wanting to do this but I didn't have that drive to do so thanks for the push anon! I'm aware of Klaus' identity as a Genderfluid person, I will be using He/They pronouns for this set of headcanons. Fem! or GN! Reader as always

word count: 634

divider cred || palestine links

now playing: I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

Klaus is very open to most things when it comes to sex, very few things are off the table for him. Having the opportunity to experiment with a partner is a fun experience for the both of you. He teaches you some things and he does the same for you, kinks you never knew you had kind of bubble to the surface.

Wax Play! Klaus introduced you to it in the middle stages of your relationship, he made it known he wasn’t afraid to experiment with a little pain. As long as you weren’t sawing his limbs off to get your rocks off he was fine.The sensation of hot wax on his skin and the soft caress of your fingers brings Klaus such euphoria. He likes to have it dripped on his thighs and his chest. Not so much on his face, anything that involves a little pain he doesn’t want done to his face. 

Being bound in any way is very very hot for them as well. Handcuffs, ropes or clamps, whether it be you or them. He mostly has a preference for being the one tied up, if you’re riding him and his hands are tied to the bedpost, he’ll go crazy. When he's bottoming he'll love it if you tie his hands behind his back. If you use that to grip onto while you fuck him from behind, face pressed in the pillow, he’ll get really loud. 

He lovesss to get pegged, Klaus will alternate between being the biggest brat and being the softest big wet eyed baby in the world. It really depends on how he’s feeling that day whether he’s gonna mouth off to you or not. He just gets sassy to get a reaction out of you but a good way to eradicate that cocky attitude to edge him, Klaus hates when you make him wait to cum. He has such a love-hate relationship with it, it does make anticipation of cumming more exciting. If you do it to him, sometimes he will get revenge later on. He would rather not do it to you cause he loves to give you whatever you want but he is a tease above all. 

He’ll even bring it up while you’re having sex, “Remember that time I backtalked you a tiny bit and you didn’t let me cum for 5 whole minutes babe? Well guess what?” and then he just stops thrusting into you, Klaus will even keep you on the edge of an orgasm for 5 minutes and let you cum after time’s up. “That was torture wasn’t it? I guess it doesn’t feel as good when the shoe’s on the other foot.” 

They have an oral fixation like you wouldn't believe, certified throat goat/munch. Stick your fingers in their mouth and they'll look at you with the nastiest whorish eyes. Anything you wanna put in Klaus' mouth they'll accept it happily, except maybe a gun that might be too much. If you're the one recieving Klaus will have some part of you in their mouth, an earlobe, a nipple or your cheek. It doesn't matter, they want to get as close as possible.

When Klaus goes down on you he's literally kicking his feet while he does it, no joke. He's so excited to be the one that makes you feel good, sex is always filled with giggles and smiles.

Aftercare is usually very quiet and intimate after a night of fun, you just sit in silence in each other's arms. You're both wound up tight in each other's arms, skin still covered in sweat. Klaus will pull you with him into the bathroom eventually so you both can get clean. After a nice shower you both end up playing monopoly or cooking something in your kitchen.

Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you think. Please like or reblog if you like my stuff.

[bokutosbiceps]

sakura blossoms (pt 3)

monkey d luffy x afab!reader | smut | ~1.1k words

warnings: this is allll smut. virgin!luffy is my religion so ✨

a/n: this is pt 3 to the sakura blossoms series !! it's the final part so i hope y'all enjoy it. i know i fucking loved writing it. lemme know what ya think, as always !! 😁

ps. this can be read without reading pt 1/2, it's just smut w a tiny bit of fluff at the end 🤭

click here for pt 1 !!

click here for pt 2 !!

18+ MDNI | under the cut for length

luffy's lips are hot and searing into your own, branding them so now you think you can never kiss anyone else again. 

it's hard for you to believe he's never done this before. he'd insisted he's never kissed anyone, never intimately touched anyone, never had sex, but the way he's working his tongue against yours is far too intoxicating. 

you're his first kiss because he likes you, according to him. a girl he'd met three hours ago and latched onto like his life depended on it. and he isn't planning on letting go for a long while. 

luffy’s bent over you with you still in his lap, his lips connecting with yours upside down while yours are upright. he releases your cheeks and tries to grab a hold of your chin to tilt your head, but doesn't have enough leverage.

so he wraps his rubber arms around your hips and brings you to face him, pressing you to his chest when he lays back. 

luffy can't bear being separated from your lips for too long; a whine escapes his throat and his fingers press into the nape of your neck, bringing your lips to his again. 

you can feel his hips jerk up and something warm and hard presses against your ass. luffy moans at the delicious friction and repeats this movement, deciding that it feels nice.

luffy is a man of instinct, you can tell, because the way he's rubbing his erection against your ass could only be a movement ingrained in his hips. a carnal need that he's got his desire locked on.

“luffy…” you mumble against his needy kisses. 

“hm?” he lets his lips travel down to your neck, where he sucks on the skin overlying your tense muscles. you moan, your fingers reaching up to tug on his hair.

you can feel yourself getting warm and wet and you subconsciously adjust yourself so that luffy’s cock is now rubbing against your covered cunt. 

his tip catches your clit at just the right angle and you moan again.

"ya like that?" he huffs, staring at you through misty eyes. you just bite your lip and nod. luffy takes this as a sign he's doing something right, so he keeps jerking his hips up to grind against you. 

“are you sure you wanna…?” you push against his chest lightly, making him lay back and look at you. his eyes are half lidded and there's a lazy smile on his saliva covered, swollen lips.

“wanna what?”

“this is your first kiss…shouldn't we—”

“have sex? yeah.” luffy breathes. sanji’s taught him lots about love and romance and what to do if and when he finds someone he wants. luffy’s going to listen to his heart as he usually does, and go after what he wants, as he usually does.

luffy lifts his head back up to seal his lips against yours. any thought of stopping flees your mind and all you can focus on is cumming with luffy.

you push against luffy’s chest once more to sit up, your hands scrambling to find the sash on his kimono and untie it. you sit up slightly to allow his kimono to fall open on either side of him.

you separate your kimono and bunch it around your waist then move to straddle his thighs and wrap your fingers around his cock, squeezing gently and pumping up his shaft. you can feel yourself growing wetter by the second as you watch beads of pre cum bubble up from his tip.

“y/n…stop teasin’. i wanna be inside ya.” luffy’s voice comes out as a mixture between a whine and a moan, and his hands are in his hair, tugging on his locks in frustration. 

your fingers find their way to your clit and you rub quickly, working up enough stimulation to make sure you're as gooey as possible for the future pirate king’s pleasure. luffy watches on in awe, his mouth ajar.

his mouth is then blown wide open in a guttural moan when you sink down onto him, his hands flying to your hips as he pushes you further down. he's loud, and you're grateful you're in a shack in some forest.

“sh-shit.” luffy stammers. “you're s-so warm. y-you’re squeezin' me so tight.”

the feeling of your cunt milking his cock is something he never thought possible, and he can't get enough of it. his hands work in tandem with his hips as they push you down to meet his powerful thrusts.

your hands find purchase on his shoulders and you hang on for the ride of your life, little moans and mewls slipping out from your lips due to the sheer force of his hips slamming against yours.

“a-ah, y/n, i feel like i'm gonna burst.” luffy whines, arching his back up off the floor to reach deeper within you.

the tip of his cock is weeping and painting your cervix with his precum.

luffy gets addicted to the way you cry his name and decides he wants to hear it way more often than you're giving him. so he moves one of his hands down between your thighs and thrusts a bit slower and shallower.

you about burst into tears when you feel the pad of one of luffy’s fingers rough against your clit. he abuses it, rubbing it so fast you think you’re gonna cum in seconds. and you do.

your warm walls close in on his cock as you cum, crying out his name and digging your fingertips into his traps. luffy throws his head back and a groan is ripped from deep within his chest.

both of his hands are back on your hips to hold you down to the base of his cock as he pumps you full of his cum.

his hips are stuttering, minutely moving in and out of your pussy. his eyes are squeezed shut and he's gritting his teeth as he accidentally overstimulates himself with each short drag of his cock.

eventually, his vice grip on your hips loosens and luffy lets go, allowing you to roll off him and lay at his side.

he's quick to turn so that he's facing you. he grabs your chin between his index and thumb, bringing your face forward toward his so he can smooth a soft kiss over your lips.

“join my crew.” he says firmly once he pulls away, keeping his grip on your chin tight enough to prevent you from looking away.

you hesitate, imagining yourself traipsing the seas with luffy, seeing the world with him by your side. and, hopefully, more nights like this.

“i want to, luffy…but my home is here, in wano.” you bite your cheek. “plus, i'm not sure how i can be of any help to you. what would my role even be?”

luffy purses his lips, thoughtful for a moment. “well, i guess we already have a musician.” he hums and closes his eyes, deep in thought. it's not too long before his eyes fly open and he grins. “it doesn't matter, captain says ya don't hafta have a role!”

luffy sits up and crawls over you, pressing light and quick kisses from your collarbones up to the corner of your mouth, where he stops. “your only job is to be by my side. captain’s orders.” 

then he presses a kiss to your lips so tender, it immediately helps you realize that you never even had a choice in the first place.

i'm tagging everyone who commented on pt 1 saying they wanted a pt 2 or rb, also the regulars 😗

taglist: @lavenderhaze00 | @n1ght5h4d3-24 | @333vil | @scentisterror | @jaree101-blog | @louisechec | @luffysprincess | @usoppsstar | @lalalolojoot | @bfshoto | @nina-a-pines | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup