#I truly just wing everything and hope for the best

[bahrtofane]

Genuinely i think httyd is the greatest piece of media (3rd movie doesn’t exist to me btw).

its hiccup learning how to fly, gaining wings that are trusted to him by toothless. wings that are never truly his but they are so in sync so molded into each others existence that they literally become one. like i could cry just thinking about it

it's like everything in his life lead up to the first flight. his time with gobber, his habits, his soul.

little hiccup, laughed at by everyone on berk, teased to no end with a chief for a father that doesn’t really know what to do with him. who so desperately fights against his own being just to be one of them. Because he knows he's not at the end of the day. he's not them, he is hiccup. and no amount of lies will change that. even his own father knows this. stoic knew what he was, what he would become as a boy. hiccup was never that boy. strung along by hope is not insanity that he could change

but he never had the heart to do any more damage, and spend the rest of his life interlocking the missing piece he shot down from the sky all those years ago. make it a part of him to keep searching, doing, moving, flying

and toothless even after getting a way out, comes back. because who could replace his best friend who is as much a part of him as his own wings are?

in the end its okay that hiccup isn’t one of them, because they need him to usher in a new era that even stoic could’ve never predicted. he's proven his own, and there's no one else like him. Mirrored in the way we never even see a glimpse of another night fury. because there can never be another them

friendship really is magic

[sundew199]

Love You Anyway

a/n: this is going to be a small series and will be cross-posted to Ao3 at some point. I wanted to explore how Reiner deals with his trauma during the four year time skip while also building the foundations for a relationship between him and reader. anyway, enjoy!

tags: Reiner Braun x f!reader, canon compliant, angst, trauma, childhood friends, grief, sprinkle of fluff, first-kiss, angst, developing feelings

synopsis: Reiner is home from Paradis.

Part One

Seagulls cawed along the port, flapping their wings and following the movements of anyone that walked by. The sky was a perfect blue, not a single cloud in the sky, temperature optimal for outdoor activities.

You were given the day off, military personnel above you receiving word that the warriors were returning from their mission in Paradis.

As an analyst for the warrior unit, you worked closely with Magath and Zeke when he was here, but since Zeke and Pieck were sent on recon to Paradis, you've been left with meaningless tasks that barely get you through the day. Draining was an understatement, you swore they would cut you from the unit soon if the warriors didn't return. But hearing that chatter gave you that bit of motivation to get through the days until you could welcome them home.

For many reasons you anticipated their return, five years you went without seeing your friends and five years you wondered how life might change for you when they completed their mission. It was a challenge enough trying to earn your stay in the warrior unit without trying to inherit a titan and you truly hoped everything went according to plan on Paradis.

Putting aside all the professionalism, getting to see Annie, Bertholdt, Marcel and Reiner again was what was getting you through the day. Most days off, you hung around the neighborhood the Marleyans give to Eldian Military Personnel, very few lived in the small neighborhood. And it was lonely, you were lonely. Pieck used to come by when she could and you wished she were here walking with you to the port to greet the returning warriors.

Six months ago was when you overheard the chatter of the warriors returning soon and everyday since then you waited, not like you were doing anything different before. It felt surreal that they would be here and curiosity formed images in your mind of what they'd look like now. Bertholdt would be tall, that you knew for certain. Annie probably wouldn't have changed too much, maybe longer hair. Marcel and Reiner would probably grow into themselves, Reiner the most.

A soft laugh left your nose thinking about Reiner. You two were close, back when you were a warrior candidate. He'd pester you as much as he could, sat right by you at meal times and walked home with you. Him and his mom lived a couple houses down from your house, so of course the two of you would walk together in the mornings as well. Though he annoyed and pestered you, he was your best friend, always making you laugh till your stomach hurt. You were twelve when you kissed him the first time, just a little peck on the cheek as you stood on the steps to your front door. His face was flushed red, frozen at the bottom of the steps and stars appeared in his eyes. Reiner then smiled and tried to say something, but you were called in by your parents before he could, giggling as you closed the door in front of you.

That memory sat bitterly inside you now, festered like a wound everytime it came to the forefront of your mind, because the very next day him and the other six inherited their titans. And the announcement that they were being sent to Paradis for a mission followed soon after. What hurt the most about that day was never getting a second to see Reiner before he left, sent home by Magath after telling you didn't need to be there. Sick with grief at not knowing when you'd see Reiner again, you cried night after night and waved the four off them off with red swollen eyes from the crowd gathered for the parade. Reiner looked so handsome in the pristine white uniform, his short bangs fringing across his forehead.

During the whole mess of not getting to say goodbye or if you'd ever see him again, it dawned on you that his life was limited to thirteen years. It felt like your world was crushed at twelve years old. So even when he came home there was a limit with him, like a countdown above his head to remind you that your time with him would dwindle with each passing day.

Time progressed and you learned not to think about the years you had left with your friends, if you would get anytime at all that is. The price Eldians paid for a sliver of 'freedom' or a 'better life' made you sick, the exact reason you couldn't stomach being a warrior candidate anymore. You only decided after the four of them left, realizing that it could be you next. Magath brought you on as an analyst for the unit, instead of keeping you as a candidate. Though life wasn't easy or even fair, you'd rather not limit the time you had.

Still on your way to the port to greet the returning warriors, you spotted Reiner's mother and maybe relative's of Reiner. A big part of you held resentment for them. At first you couldn't place it, too young to understand what you were feeling when Reiner told you inheriting a titan would essentially bring his parents together. He was naive and so were you at the time, but to see your friend driven to fix a problem that wasn't even his fault to begin with stirred the resentment you couldn't name just yet.

Avoiding them and turning down a different street, you stopped by a bakery. Their time on an island so far behind with Marley probably deprived them of delicacies like warm fresh pastries. Annie favored donuts, Marcel danishes, Bertholdt éclairs and Reiner strudel. Buying one for each of them was expensive on your next to nothing salary, but you told yourself it was worth it and that they deserved it.

Not much time was left until the ship would be returning, based on your assumption, so your hurried down the street, avoiding any collisions and politely excusing yourself as you moved amongst people. Excitement, anxiety, and maybe joy bubbled inside you getting closer to the port, spotting a ship that looked like something they'd arrive in.

Five years.

Five years and you were moments away from seeing your friends again. This day felt like it'd never come, never allowing yourself false hope.

A few Marleyan officers were lined up just at the end of where a ramp would be propped for everyone to walk down to the pier the ship pulled into. This only reaffirmed that they had to be close. You spotted Porco and his parents standing near where Reiner's mother and Annie's father stood, still set on steering clear of them, even if you and Porco were kind of friends. More coworkers than anything, it got old listening to him complain about Reiner and how he stole the Armored from him, after all these years.

Standing somewhere in the middle of where the officers were and the families, you stuffed the pastries into the bag slung on your shoulder, adjusting the Armband on your sleeve.

A blaring ship horn signaled its docking, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest. Time felt purposely stretched, everything seemingly taking longer than normal, but when you saw the ramp propped to the railing of a ship and a blonde head of hair, you stiffened, but it was only Zeke.

Pieck filed out next, and then Reiner. You barely recognized him, left awestruck as he casually walked down the ramp to the pier. He was taller, so much taller and sculpted in muscle. His hair looked longer than you'd expect it to be, longer bangs hanging down in the front, he looked like, a man.

Once Reiner filed out, you expected to see one of the other three, and when it started to look like no other warrior would be leaving the ship, you chalked it up to them maybe taking longer to exit. But you knew that was a silly lie to tell yourself, they would've come out by now.

A woman with short brown hair was brought out in cuffs, just when you stepped back away a bit further from where you stood, catching your attention. Who was she? She looked malnourished and weak, like there was no life or even light inside her. The soldier handling her, shoved her in front of the three officers, hearing the bark in his voice and disgust.

"-holder of the jaw."

Was all you heard and tears were welling in your eyes. Marcel was dead, confirming the sick suspicion in your gut you didn't want to face, glancing at Porco completely unaware and standing with his parents, but something in you felt as if he already knew. But you refused to think about Annie and Bertholdt, there had to be an explanation for why they were here right now.

All three of the remaining warriors started walking in your direction, Zeke giving you a polite nod, and Pieck pulling you in for a small hug. It was Reiner who just glanced at you, then glanced back, jaw going slack and moving to walk back to you as he almost walked past you. There were so many words at the forefront of your brain, you had no idea what to say. So the two of you just stared at each other, deprived of the ability to speak. He was home.

"Reiner!"

His mother chirped that fake and shrill voice that was meant to come off as motherly and happy, seeing how Reiner's eyes dropped and his body pulling him to greet his mother, all before he could say anything to you. You understood, you'd never hold something like that against him. Reiner loved his mom and the bitter ugly part of you wished he didn't, because she didn't deserve his love, not with the way you knew how she used him and even talked about him. A son used as a pawn for the chance at a better life, nursing him with falsehoods that even you could see through. Maybe you were more insightful due to your parents making you blatantly aware the difference between Marleyan and Eldians since you could comprehend thoughts, seeing right through the lie Reiner was fed about his father coming home to him and his mother if he inherited a titan.

Cumbersomely standing there, only a few feet away, messing with the ends of the old brown jacket thrown over your white button-up. The question on whether you should wait for Reiner or just head back home caused a bigger internal turmoil than you expected. You wanted to talk with him, catch up on the last five years but didn't want to interrupt the reunification between him and his family.

"We'll need you to report to base this afternoon for a briefing." Magath barked, appearing in front of you with a stern, unimpressed look. Wishful thinking to assume your day off was going to be taken seriously.

"Yes sir." Muttering back in a small voice, not trying to hide your disappointment. At least you had some of the day off, better than nothing you suppose.

There was no time to try and catch Reiner before you left, conversing with his mother still and a few other adults, more members of his family you assumed. A little girl with dark brunette hair was hanging off his arm, looking up at him with stars in her eyes. That must be his cousin, you've never met her but seen her out with Karina and her mother at the market during your weekly grocery trips.

Lingering around the port would only get you reprimanded by Magath, deciding you'd find time to catch up with Reiner later.

Officers from all branches of the Marleyan military hung in and around the base when you arrived, politely excusing yourself making it down to the briefing room, clutching the brown bag with the pastries still inside, the brown paper bags crinkling with movement and giving you that sinking reminder that only one of those pastries would be given away. What had happened over there for only Reiner to return, and for Marcel to die? You hoped Annie and Bertholdt were alive, even if they were prisoners.

Magath stood at the head of the table, Zeke sitting in the chair across from Pieck with Porco next to her. Reiner wasn't in here, pushing that thought away as you pulled the chair out to sit beside Zeke.

"The mission to Paradis was a failure, a complete loss." Magath began, and you suddenly didn't want to hear anything regarding the matter. With all the training the four of them endured to earn their titans and to be sent off just for the entire thing to fail felt, wasted. They had all the advantage but still failed, how ruthless and brutal were the island devils?

Majority of the information Magath and Zeke relayed was tuned out, staring at the small files you brought with you. Paying attention would've been to your advantage, knowing reports would need to be written and sent in to the upper military officials of Marley. But you couldn't, all you could think about was how scared all four of them must've been, how they only had each other to rely on.

"All we know is Leonhart is in their custody, unsure if she's alive still and the colossal was stolen, just like the jaw. We were able to retrieve the thief of the jaw titan, after she willingly gave herself up according to Braun and will be passed down to Galliard immediately."

That information snapped you back into focus, looking at Porco and seeing the relief or maybe anguish on his face. His brother was gone and wouldn't be given the proper time to mourn his loss, expected to perform his duty like it were nothing. Fuck this was sickening.

Annie was maybe alive but now your suspicions about Bertholdt were confirmed, dying at the hands of the enemy. Two of your friends were dead, one of them captured and the other returning as the sole survivor. You had enough fingers to point at the culprits of this outcome, but could only openly condemn one.

"We're down two titans as of now. Marley is expecting this unit to perform as if we were at our full power. Everyone will pull their weight, we have other priorities as well as retrieving the remaining titans from Paradis to focus on." Magath sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and then snapping back to look at you.

"Braun is currently in interrogations, once he is out I will need detailed reports from his time on Paradis, do not let him leave any details out. Understood?"

"Understood sir."

Returning home that evening felt heavier, somber and empty. You couldn't even be happy that Reiner was home without the reminder of what was lost. The anger you held for the 'island devils' was redirected to Marley. Their hatred and obsession with Eldians led to this. There was no openly opposing or speaking out against them, unless of course you wanted to be on the next ship bound for Paradis to live out the rest of your days as a mindless titan.

Tomorrow you'd get to see Reiner, maybe do a little bit of catching up before you had to transcribe his time on Paradis for the higher-ups. But you allowed yourself one little smile as you thought back to seeing him for the first time in five years, how handsome he looked and how when he recognized you made your chest flutter softly.

~

Tomorrow didn't come, in fact it wasn't until a week later you finally got to see Reiner. His interrogations were strictly classified up until he was finished and it only heightened the anxiety of what happened on Paradis. Did he perform traitorous acts? Did he defect from his duties? You weren't sure and wouldn't get any answer despite what you needed for a report. Magath told you that he wasn't sure when the interrogations would end but told you that Braun could stop by your office at any point and to be ready.

And that knock of your door right before it opened, did anything but prepare you, jumping out of your skin when you looked up to see Reiner, loosely holding the door knob, hunched over in a way that displayed his exhaustion. Without thinking, you jumped up and almost ran over to him, stopping just before you were within arms reach.

"Rein-"

Words snipped as he yanked you into him, embracing you tightly with the bulbous arms that felt so safe. Cheek pressed to his chest and his chin hooking over your head, you heard the small sniffle from above. It felt wrong to be unfamiliar with this version of him, because there weren't any others for you to be familiar with, besides how he was when you two were twelve. But it was mind-numbing, just looking at him you could see the hollowness that engulfed him, whatever events on Paradis draining the light, the one you were so drawn too.

"I missed you."

Heart thumping wildly and nervously, you gently pushed him back to ensure you heard him correctly. Dark eye bags dragged his skin and aged him, beginnings of facial hair littering around his mouth. He repeated the three words again and it all hit you at once. Looking at him, felt like looking at a stranger, a stranger you should know, but he was so different it almost felt sad to say you weren't sure who you were looking at. But it was still Reiner, and maybe there was still some of that boy you knew inside of him, only hoping at this point. A part of you wasn't expecting him to miss you, at least not from the way his words sounds so relieved.

"I missed you too...so much."

Falling into an embrace once more, standing there in your small office and appreciating the fact you got to hug at least one of your friends. It was all bittersweet, but you took what you could and didn't complain.

"Sorry I couldn't tell you at the port, I just-"

Silencing him with a deft finger to the center of his lips, shaking your head. He had no reason to apologize, ignoring the selfish part that feels he should've ignored his mom for just a second to say hello. But that was his mother and you didn't have priority over her.

"Don't apologize for something you can't help, okay?" Reaching to cradle his face, the comfort that instantly came over him when you did so. He was nearly muttering an apology again until he stopped himself, flitting his eyes to yours and forcing a small smile. Your heart broke for so many reasons, what had they done to him?

"Magath assigned me to get information for reports from you." Sounding so nervous when you spoke, seeking approval or understanding from him as this was expected from you, not something you were exactly willing to do. The pain was all the more apparent at the reminder as to why he was in here, recoiling away inwardly in the way he sighed.

"Right. Can I see what they're wanting to see?" Stepping back timidly and looking to the open files on your desk. Nodding, you walked around to where your chair was, handing the first one to him. You'd briefly glanced at it as you went through all of them. His body plopped down in the chair across from you, resting his cheek on his fist and scanning the words typed to the page.

"They just interrogated me for a week, I don't see the point in rehashing the whole ordeal."

The tone shifted to frustration and you couldn't help but agree with his statement. Surely someone could've written everything he said down during that week. This almost felt like a punishment for failing the entire mission, and it made you sick.

"I know, I'm just doing my job and what's been asked of me." Looking away in shame, as if you were the one who ordered this and not the other way around. Reiner looked up and frowned.

"I know that, it's just...pointless to have you listen to this shit."

How bad was the mission on Paradis? It'd been a reoccurring question that blurred in your mind at every observation you made, but it only grew more apparent that it went horribly wrong the more hints were dropped. If that were the right way to put it.

In the silence, you grabbed two pens from your drawer, scooting closer with your chair, and taking the file back from him. His stare could be felt on your armband, the pristine white that almost blended in with your uniform. Reiner probably expected you to still be in the program, waiting to inherit a titan.

"Your armband?"

"I dropped out of the warrior program not long after you and the others deployed." Not letting him finish his question, knowing what he was going to ask. "I realized I wouldn't be fit to inherit one after that day. Magath saw me valuable enough to take on the position as analyst for the unit, hence the all white armband. It's rarely used as most Eldians aren't given military positions within the Marleyan ranks, but he bent the rules for me, I guess."

Reiner only gave a small nod, chewing on the inside of his cheek, a look of regret becoming present, leaving you confused. You didn't like how it sounded coming out, but there wasn't any other way to put it.

"We can do two files today and work through the rest, there's no specific date they need them by and I'm sure they'll tell me if they do."

Changing the subject, smiling at the small relief that came over Reiner, thankful to not have to spew out all his trauma all at once, and you were too. He took a moment to prepare himself and the turmoil swirled in his eyes as he fiddled with his hands.

"They're asking for the timeline from when you arrived on the island to when you broke the wall." Saying that last part quietly, the new information churning in your gut uncomfortably. You knew people on the island died at the hands of him and your other friends, there's no way they didn't. Just the idea that innocents were killed all for a selfish mission to reclaim the founder was placed on the shoulders of twelve year olds and asked to kill without remorse.

Quietly Reiner sighed, his hand shaking as he ran it through his hair, gathering his composure.

"After departing from the ship and meeting our contact to lead us further into the island, we camped as we traveled, gathering things we might need. Marcel had been leading us, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. We spent that time coming up with a plan to draw out the King, but never fully agreed on anything."

He stopped to give you a chance to write everything down, waiting until you looked up at him to continue on.

"We were approaching the wall on good time right before things took a turn. Marcel was countering a plan I came up with to draw out the founder, when it happened."

The tears were welling in his eyes as he spoke, and your heart clenched so tightly in your chest just hearing about Marcel, knowing what he might reveal to you and seeing the type of pain it brought Reiner to talk about it again.

"A pure titan came up from the ground, reaching out for me. I was frozen, I couldn't move, couldn't think." Swallowing the lump in his throat, staring off into the small bookshelf behind you, beginning to disassociate. "I'd be dead if Marcel didn't save me, pushed me out of the way, and I just stood there as that titan ate him."

A single tear rolled down your cheek, wiping it away before it could hit the parchment and smear the ink from your pen. Hearing about it was so much worse than you expected. Marcel died before the mission even really started. Of course Marcel would be the first one to try and save someone else, always so noble and it finally got him killed. You didn't blame Reiner, and you knew he was blaming himself and that it was only natural for him to do so. But it wasn't his fault.

"I ran until I couldn't anymore, collapsing once my legs gave out. Annie and Bertholdt caught up with me, and we disagreed on how to carry out the mission."

He was lying, you could tell he was from the way his eyes looked around the room frantically. There wasn't just a disagreement, and you knew whatever actually happened would get him in bigger trouble than he already was, so you didn't press.

"Once we agreed to break the outer most wall to draw out the King and the founder, we continued to camp until we were just on the outskirts. Annie kept the pure titans from attacking me and Bertholdt during that time. That morning, I carried Bert to the wall and met back up with Annie to prevent us from being spotted. Once the gate was down, Annie called the pure titans and gave me the opening to break through the gate leading into the second most inner wall. It was chaos and provided us enough cover to sneak into the walls as refugees. We joined their cadet corps about two years later and completed the three year training, falling into their ranks, infiltrating their military."

Ignoring the way your words were nearly illegible from how fast you were writing, you glanced up and felt the air leave your lungs. He was crying, silent tears rolling down his cheeks, leaving streaks in their wake. Dropping your pen and coming around to stand in front of him, you didn't think twice about cradling his face and making him look at you. Those beautiful golden eyes were muted with guilt and questions that no one could give an answer to. There were words on the edge of your tongues, yet nothing urged either of you to break the silence, letting your instincts guide you in cradling his head to your mid-section, letting him bury his face.

Unimaginable the horrors he must've seen the day he broke through that wall, the grotesque mangled bodies splattered on the streets from debris flying in the air. Twelve years old and there was more blood on his hands than the most senior officers in the Marleyan Military and he was just suppose to carry that with him like it was nothing. This was breaking him inside, tearing his mind apart at what he'd done, questioning himself and his morale.

"I see it when I go to sleep, I hear the cries and the begging, I can't escape it."

It will never leave him and you'd never been filled with more rage for Marley than you did right now. It wasn't just Paradis that stole the bright sunshine that filled Reiner, two culprits were to blame and it was unfair how you couldn't speak out against it.

"I see them, and Marcel in his final moments."

Rambling on as he wetted your uniform with tears, crumbling in that chair as he relived the painful memories all over again. Your throat was tight as you pleaded for the words to ease his pain, something to say to make it okay.

"I wish you didn't, it's not fair."

He pulled away from you then, holding you at your waist with his hands and you felt a rush of heat at how big they felt through your clothes, looking down at him with unshed tears.

Expecting him to say something to your rebuttal, you swallowed when he didn't, wishing you knew why he just chose to stare. He was examining you, never getting a chance to see you after being away for five years and it felt daunting.

"Are you comfortable doing one more file? It's up to you." Asking after a few long, painfully silent moments.

The trance he was in broke, removing his hands from your waist and resting them on his thighs, looking down at his feet.

"Yea."

More in-depth details about the cadet corp he trained in came to light, speaking about it easier than the previous topic. Reiner smiled occasionally when talking about the people he spent a good chunk of his time with over there, the friendships he made. The explanation on their gear lined up with what Zeke brought back with him, finding yourself fascinated with their technology, even if it were dated compared to Marley's. He decided to stop when he got close to the second attack they carried out on the walls, asking if you he could go over it the next day, agreeing without question.

Magath wasn't expecting you the rest of the day, assuming you and Reiner would be spending all your time filling out these reports. So for the time being, until you could return home, you caught him up on some of the changes here. You warmed seeing him smile at some of the things, a glimpse of the Reiner you remember peeking out.

"I live in the military housing they provide, not too far from Pieck and her dad."

"Is that an invitation?"

The boldness and arrogance in his voice surprised you, blinking at him with the rapid flutter of your lashes. He saw your surprise and doubled down a bit and you regretted your reaction.

"I just meant as in, well I didn't mean it like that."

And he laughed at the end of his sentence, filling you with warmth that was unexplainable, settling on a small sly smile.

"How did you mean it then?"

Eyes rolled back into his head, the brief flash of his canines stirring the butterflies in your stomach.

"I haven't seen you in five years, I'd-" A blush creeping onto his cheeks and turning his face bright red with bashfulness, prompting you to giggle. The little crush you two shared as children was still there, even after all this time. "I'd like a break from my mother as well."

"I don't have any housemates living with me, so you're more than welcome to come and soak up the peace and quiet if you want."

Softness overtook his features, easing the harsh lines that cut into his face, giving him that youthful look finally. Reiner nodded, rubbing his hands on his slacks and tapping his fingers absentmindedly.

"What's your address, so I can meet you there?"

"You can just walk home with me."

Your heart thumped at the nostalgia, remembering all those times you'd walk down the streets of Liberio with your elbows linked together. Memories like those were held so fondly in your heart, the good right before everything took a turn for the worst.

"Okay." Whispering back to you, voice laced with nerves and you couldn't help but find it adorable. "I have a meeting with some of the other Marleyan officers, shouldn't be long, do you mind waiting?"

"I don't mind." Folding your arms over the edge of the desk, catching the scribble of your handwriting on the reports you wrote. "It'll give me enough time to rewrite these so they can actually read them."

Another huff of a laugh left his lips, standing from the chair in front of your desk. Rising as well and meeting him on the other side, you gently took his hand, holding onto to his middle and ring finger. They used to be the same size, your fingers just slightly longer than his, but they were the same. Now his hand easily engulfed yours, could swallow it whole if it wanted. He looked down at you, on the precipice of saying something else but going against it and settling for another embrace.

This felt more warming and familiar, not like the desperation in his arms holding you close when he first came in. Encircling your arms under his tan coat around his torso, you squeezed him just a little and felt him return the gesture.

"I'll come by here when I'm done and we can walk back to your place."

~

Clicks from your steps on the pavement echoed in the empty sidewalk from the base, the setting sun giving everything a small glow. Reiner insisted on walking on the side closest to the street, ensuring he was still close to your side on the casual walk back. His meeting ended up going over what you expected it too, though it was enough time to think of something to cook.

He wasn't as cheery as he was when he left your office and you wanted to blame the officers for the mood change but you knew better than that. Reiner had been through a lot and everything was still processing for him. He left this country with three of his friends and came back alone and the mercy of the Marleyans. There was the fear that lingered that he'd be stripped of his titan once he set foot on the ground. But there wasn't anyone available to do so.

"How'd the meeting go?" Deciding to ask. He glanced down and sighed and you wondered what was going through his head.

"It was fine. They were discussing my salary."

"Salary?"

"Yea. They want to make me Vice Chief soon, not now as I'm still adjusting being back, but they'll go ahead and give me my pay increase now."

"That's a lot better than I was expecting."

A dry emotionless huff puffed from his nostrils, back to looking at was in front of him. "Me too."

It was quiet up until you started to direct him where to go, turning down streets and waiting to cross with some others still out and about. You wanted to grab onto his hand and lead him, but hesitated. Sure there wasn't much awkward tension between the two of you, but the lingering cloud of reality hung over you.

Even if both you and Reiner fell in love or spoke of your mutual affectionate feelings for one another, despite being apart for five years, there were only seven years left in his lifespan. So it felt pointless to even try and have a relationship, it'd be gone in a blink of an eye anyway. Yet you yearned for it almost childishly.

Bitterness came over you easily when you thought too long about how Reiner wouldn't grow old or have any chance of a family of his own either. He was robbed, all the titan holders were, hell the entire Eldian population was. How was it right to punish the descendants of egregious people from years ago? You didn't commit those acts, neither did Reiner so why you were slum of the earth and didn't deserve to breathe the same air as the people that won? How could anyone look away and think nothing was wrong with the segregation between people whose only differences were their blood? Why were you robbed of everything good in your life from the moment you took your first breath? Why didn't anyone care other than the people suffering?

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The quiet bass of his voice snapped you out of your raged filled thoughts, noticing the crescent marks from your nails digging into your own palms.

"Nothing. Last left and I'm down the street." Walking faster now, wanting to get away from the haunting reality that you'd never have anything good in your life as an Eldian. You couldn't even have love, because sooner or later that'd be ripped away, no matter who it was. But it didn't stop you from being compassionate or caring, it'd never stop you, but eventually you'd get tired of loving just to have it torn away and you hoped that day wasn't coming anytime soon.

Unlocking the front door, letting him in first, you started marched towards the kitchen and dropped your shoulder bag that carried anything you might need. The files you worked on him were in there as you started to look through the bag, not really searching for anything, just making sure everything was still there, and then your stomach dropped. The pastries you bought last week for all four of them were smushed at the bottom, ruined.

Tears were stinging your eyes, biting your bottom lip as it quivered, looking at the crinkled brown bags flattened from the weight of other things in your bag. You'd never get to give Marcel his danish or Bertholdt his éclair, and it was hopeless to think you'd see Annie again, she was probably already dead like the others.

A single tear rolled down onto your top lip, trying to wipe it away with your tongue, but Reiner already saw, standing at the other end of the small countertop, watching you stare at the bottom of your shoulder bag, wondering what had your so shellshocked. He moved carefully beside you, hovering a hand over your shoulder until you took three bags from the bottom and clutched them in your hands.

"What are those?"

And he almost didn't want to ask, not with the way your eyes shone with unshed tears or how your hands shook grasping the top of each bag. You looked so broken and hopeless, and the fault was already falling on him before he could stop it.

"These were pastries I picked up, for everyone's arrival back home. I um thought it would be a nice gesture, since it'd probably been a while since any of you had them."

Embarrassing the way your voice wavered with each syllable, the cracking of the consonants like fragile eggshells. Reiner swallowed thickly before you, giving a small smack of his lips as he looked away, the emotions coming over him faster than he could prepare for.

"Right."

"It was stupid, I should've just saved my money." Stomping over to the trash bin and tossing the pastries, sucking down a sob, feeling as if you just given up on ever seeing any of them again. Which you sort of had, but there evidence was clear as day, they were gone.

A large hand grabbed you at the bicep, turning you around to face him. There was no point in hiding your tears or the grief you'd been shoving down for the past week. You didn't want to feel or accept losing your friends, the ones you grew up with, the ones you let yourself be hopeful for their return. You hated it, despised the overwhelming sadness that shook your body where you stood, blearily looking at the one friend you had left, pitifully crying in front of. Why couldn't they all come home? Why didn't they deserve to come home?

"It's not stupid, you didn't waste your money-"

"I did Reiner!" Shouting at him, yanking your arm from his grasp, sobbing with your words at the admittance. "They're gone! And all I have left is you!"

Shifting on his feet, taking a step back, not sure what to make of what you just said, Reiner ran a hand down his face and tried not to break down into tears as well. He couldn't look at you.

"They're fucking dead! I'll never get to say good morning to Marcel again, or play cards with you and Bertholdt during lunch. I'll never get the satisfaction of getting Annie to say more than two words to me anymore, because they're dead!"

A dull pain shot into your knees as you hit the ground, crumbling into yourself on the floor of your kitchen, wailing with choked sobs that stung and scratched your throat. It hurt. You hurt. And your knew Reiner was hurting as well.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Please don't say that, please Reiner." Braving yourself to look up at him, only to find he was crouched down in front of you with tear red eyes and one or two already rolling down his cheeks. A small hand belonging to you, reached out to wipe away his tears, but it was no use, they were falling faster than you could catch them. He was putting all the blame on himself, and maybe he was to blame and you wouldn't know unless you asked but it'd be cruel of you too.

"I tried."

You weren't going to let him finish that thought, silencing whatever words might've come next by throwing yourself into him, hugging around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder, letting yourself feel all of it with no fear of judgement. Reiner moved so he could at least find some leverage against the cabinets behind him, holding you tightly and even letting his own face bury into the side of your head as he silently cried along with you.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you." Looking him in the eyes after willing yourself to pull away, no more tears spilling from your eyes. Reiner looked down as he let you sit in front of him, loosely holding your hand, tenderly squeezing it.

"It's fine."

"I'm not upset with you." Trying to save the conversation, hearing your shrill declaration that your friends were gone ringing in your ears, the wide eyed look he gave right after. You shouldn't have yelled, you hurt him.

"I know." Letting the back of his head hit the back of cabinet, adam's apple bobbing painfully in his throat. Your gut turned with regret and the pain of it just being you and him out of everyone who was still alive. All those ideas you had of what you wanted to do with all of them when they got back were like pinpricks on your heart. You'd never get those opportunities.

There wasn't anything else you could say that would ease the pain hugging you both so tightly, so you just curled up next to him, wrapping around his arm and leaning against his shoulder, closing your eyes. You tried not to think about them, tried not to imagine what their voices would sound like or even what they'd look like. All you had were the faint memories from before they left. You didn't even get to say goodbye.

Darkness crept into the kitchen when you opened your eyes again, head pounding and making you dizzy if you moved too fast. Sitting up and seeing Reiner was staring at the ceiling still, you nudged him. His eyes were even redder than before, crying to himself as you drifted off to sleep.

Why couldn't you think of anything to say? Why was your mind numb and empty when he looked back at you?

How does someone even begin to heal from this?

Why did someone have to heal from this?

"Are you hungry?"

A tiny nod was his response, sniffling hard to cease his crying for good, pulling you in for another embrace. Something light came over him as he kept you in his arms, like he was grounding himself in you.

Holding the back of his head, pressing your cheek to his, you kissed his temple without thinking, even kissing it again before letting go and standing on wobbly legs. The bright pink blush was back and you choked out a wet laugh, seeing the small crease in his cheeks. Reiner took the hand you offered and rose from the kitchen floor.

"What are you hungry for? I have limited options unfortunately but I can make do-"

Lips pressed to yours, hands holding the sides of your face carefully, guiding you to step closer to him. There was so much running through your mind, it was hard to believe Reiner was kissing you. The feelings that were harbored from a childhood crush were inflamed, engulfing your chest in a roaring fire urging you to kiss him back.

Deftly overlapping your arms around his neck, angling your body into his, Reiner held you at the waist, parting your lips with his for a deeper more meaningful kiss. He was so gentle and insisting all at once you were floating. His breath mingled with yours, like winds from two different seas meeting in the middle.

It was all so clear and a blur at once. You were in shock. The best kind of shock a small hum slipped out carelessly. This kiss needed to last forever, it couldn't end, you didn't want it too.

A gulp of air filled your lungs when the kiss broke, wrapping your hand around his wrist, caressing it with your thumb. Reiner gazed at you with a love-sick look, so vulnerable and open, like the cavity in his chest was open for you to take his heart and hold it in your hands. Safeguard it even.

Lips began to part to say something and you knew from the get go what he was about to say.

"Don't apologize." Laughing at the end of your sentence, seeing him deflate in a lighthearted manner. His lips came to press against your cheek, lingering there with the softness of a flower blooming from your skin. He brought you in for another embrace, hugging you so tight you thought he worried you would vanish before him. You were both hurt from the realization that things so dear to you were stolen when it was just within your grasp. And you wished you could take his pain away and yours, but all you could do was help him heal, if he let you.

"Some nights I wished you were over there with us, but after coming home, I'm so glad you weren't, because I could've lost you before I ever got the chance to return a proper kiss."

Memories of that night on the steps to your front door came to you, when you shyly kissed him before heading inside, giggling on the other side of the closed door. Who knew that would be the last time you'd have something with him for five years. As bitter as the memory was at times, you cherished it, even more so now.

"So you were returning a kiss from five years ago?" Pulling back to meet the lingering gaze, letting the hand on the center of your back balance you at an angle. Reiner blushed again, that dusty pink hiding the faint freckles that dotted his cheeks and nose.

"You didn't give me a chance last time." Humming sweetly, craning his head to the side so he could brush his lips over your cheeks, making you giggle softly and appreciate that at least he made it home.

Inevitably you both leaned in again after the silence became too much and slotted your lips together, letting the childhood crush flame bigger inside you both, ignoring the reality that loomed over your head, the reminder that it wouldn't last, but at least you could pretend in this moment. And maybe that reality had fallen over Reiner too from the way he pressed his lips harder into yours, like he had to make every second last because if he didn't he wouldn't have anything to hold onto when his time eventually came. You hated it and silently prayed for something to change, to extend his limited lifespan just a little longer, just so you could have more to look back on.

Reiner held you in the kitchen for an unknown amount of time, letting your cheek press into his tear stained shirt, listening to the beating of his heart. A swirl of emotions hung in the air, the giddiness of sharing your first kiss to the somber reality that you and him would always have an expiration date no matter what happened between you two, to the grief that it was just you and him.

No one deserved this, not you, not Reiner, not anyone. But this was life you were given, the hardships of being born a different race, the wrong one, the disgraced one and still having to go through life like it were nothing. All you wanted was your friends, to grow old with them, to see where life would take each of you. Even knowing you'd never have that it couldn't be helped how you yearned for it, cried for it and even prayed to no one for it.

Small happinesses, like the kiss you shared with Reiner were possibly just enough to keep you going, hope for a miracle that this wasn't the life you were meant to live. And maybe if the universe was kind you could take Reiner with you.

"I think I have enough leftover stew."

His chin came off your head, acknowledging you with a hum and letting you rummage around the icebox for what you were looking for. A sizable container with the frozen stew was scooped out into a pan over the stove, letting the poor excuse of heat work to make it edible.

Reiner sat on the barstool across the counter, watching you and letting his mind imagine the silliest things. Wondering if he could have a sliver of what he wished for in the time he had left. It didn't matter if he just reunited with you, he loved you and always had. Would he ever tell you? Probably not, because he'd love you till the day he died and yours would fade over time. It wasn't worth it, but deep down he hoped that maybe he was wrong and that loving you was worth it and would reap the rewards at the end of whatever this was. But he'd be a selfish bastard before and look where that had gotten him the past, the sole survivor of a mission that was suppose to put a looming threat to rest. He couldn't be selfish, not even with you.

"Here." Sliding the stew to him across the counter, not missing the way his eyes were glassy again. Reiner muttered a thank you as you joined to sit in the barstool next to him, moving the stew around lazily with your spoon. You weren't hungry but needed the nutrition, forcing yourself to eat what you could. Whatever happiness was in the air, vanished sitting there in silence next to him. Why did this have to be? All you could do was wish things were different over and over again.

"You can stay the night if you want, it's late."

The spoon clattered against the bowl and you met his sad eyes, giving him a smile to try and wash some of that sadness out.

"Thank you but I-"

"it's just an offer Reiner, I'm not forcing you." Nudging his elbow with your own. He deflated a little bit and you smiled, his arm coming to drape over your shoulders, leaning over to kiss the side of your head.

"Any other time I would, but I'm expected up there early."

Nodding, swallowing the disappointment, you huffed a small smile. "Figured. If you're not up for the reports tomorrow, don't force yourself okay? I mean it."

"Okay."

At the door, you clung to him in a hug, wishing you'd been more insistent about him staying here, even though the couch in your living room was no better than sleeping on the ground, you didn't want him to be alone. He was plagued with nightmares and the idea of him waking up alone, and confused shredded your heart. You wanted to comfort him like he did for you today, you wanted to be the person he leaned on, his support, he needed it more than he'd ever admit.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight Reiner."

[brutal-out-here]

821 words of this is just me rambling on about this oc (who’s basically flat out just me in middle school) and by some miracle making it actually flow into where she would show up in the story decently well

[froggiewrites]

Puppeteer

Pairing: Doffy x Reader

SFW

Summary: Your life is perfect. Doflamingo has made it that way. But a small slip of the tongue makes you think maybe your husband had more of a hand in the events that lead you to him that you initially thought. Warnings: Fem!Reader, Angst, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Possessive Behavior, Yandere, Doffy is...Doffy Word Count: 7.7k Notes: I've been working on this piece since November, so I'm SO excited to have finally finished it. I hope you all enjoy it!

Your life was perfect. Your husband made sure of it.

You had anything you wanted, when you wanted it, without exception. The life of a queen, even before he had gifted you a crown.

But that wasn’t what mattered to you, really. It was nice, but what you were truly grateful for was how Doflamingo had saved you. From the world, from betrayal, from yourself. You were at risk of falling into a dark place when you met him, and he lifted you up, brought you comfort and protection. To you, his cloak might as well be the wings of an angel.

He insisted that it was nothing. That was simply his job as your lover. He tended to ignore the fact he was not your lover at the time. Destined from the moment you met, you suppose. 

“You might not have known it, but you were always mine. I was simply doing what’s right.”

You had always thought that line was sweet. You thought he meant you were destined, that you were his and he was yours.

For the first time in your life, you were having doubts about that.

It was a small slip up. Almost nothing, really. Baby 5 often goes on long tangents, so it’s a wonder you even noticed what she said, let alone processed it. But while extolling the virtues of her latest obsession, claiming this was true love (as they always are), you couldn’t help but notice an odd phrase in the middle.

“He’s so reliable! He was so worried about me, he said I’m ‘too naive’, and that I need someone to look after me. It reminds me of how Doffy is with you! Isn’t it so sweet that he wants to protect me?” She’s beaming, and you can barely get out your question as she tries to continue her ramble.

“Why does he remind you of Doffy?” Your husband is reliable, of course, and he does his best to look out for everyone in the family, but he would never call you naive. He had never, once, in your decade of marriage implied even for a second he thought you were incapable of looking after yourself.

You had asked him once, very early on in your relationship, why he insisted on doing everything for you, why he waited on you hand and foot when he knew that you would never ask that much of him. He had smiled at you gently, an expression you were sure no other person on the planet had seen, and spoken with such fondness you couldn’t help but melt. “I do this because I love you, little bird. You don’t need to read anything else into it.”

So when Baby 5 smiles again, saying, “He looks at me the way Doffy looks at you,” you can’t help the way your heart drops. You haven’t met this suitor, but you know the way men look at Baby 5. She isn’t a partner to them, she’s a target. A victim. Prey to be lured in and devoured. Your instinct is to say this is simply another delusion on her part, another desperate illusion from her need to be needed. But the way she says it, the look in her eye, it seems far more based in reality than the rest of her spiel. 

But that can’t be right. Your husband loves you, respects you. This is just another part of Baby 5’s incurable lovesickness, her romanticization of any man that gets his claws in her. “The way he looks at me, huh?”

“Yeah! It’s so romantic.” And then she’s off to the races again, completely unaware of the seed she’s planted.

You can’t dig it up, no matter how hard you try. Once a thought is in your head it cannot be unthought. So instead you bury it, as deeply as you can, and you pray that it will not take root, will not be strong enough to break through the soil. You love your husband, your life together. You will not ruin it through unearned paranoia. 

When he comes to bed that night, he finds you lying awake, staring at the ceiling. His voice and hands are gentle, as they always are with you. He has never spoken to you the way he does most people, has always given you the kindness he denies others. He still has a temper, of course, but on the very rare occasions it has turned to you it has been mild, and the apology has been quick. 

“What’s wrong, little bird?” He lays next to you, his arm immediately coming to wrap around you. The weight is comforting, familiar, something that has made you feel safe for as long as you can remember. You try to relax into him, but a voice in you whispers we’re trapped. You feel like you can’t breathe. You want to ignore it, suffer in silence, but your ever observant husband notices immediately, removing his arm with a frown. “Did something happen?”

You sit up, moving toward the window. You need air. “No, it’s nothing. I’m just anxious, is all.”

“Anxious?” His frown deepens. “Darling, you have nothing to worry about. What is it? Let me help.” He follows you, reaching around you to open the window for you, letting the night air in. Your turn to face him. With his arms on either side, his eyes flashing in the moonlight, for a moment you feel like nothing more than an animal in a cage, with a predator bearing down on you.

But then the cold air hits your back, those terrifying eyes are filled with concern, and your husband is back. Of course everything is alright. Of course you have nothing to worry about. You’re happy. Doffy has made sure of it. “It’s just…a horrible feeling I can’t shake. Nothing is actually wrong, I promise.”

He purses his lips a moment, displeased. “If you need something, you’ll have it. You know that, right?” His hand rests on your cheek, cradling you as though you’re the most precious thing in the world. To him, you truly are.

“I know, my love. I promise, it really is nothing.”

He lets out the smallest puff of a sigh. “Alright. I’ll let it go for now. Come back to bed, darling. I won’t be able to sleep without you.” His words start as an order, but his tone turns almost pleading. Doflamingo does not beg, of course, but for you he can at least command politely.

“Of course.” You practically fall into his arms, allowing him to carry you back to your bed. He holds you tightly, as though he’s scared you’ll slip through his fingers the moment he loosens his grip. For a moment you swear you see some tension around his eyes, a slight clench of his jaw, but when you rest your head on his chest it all seems to vanish.

“Goodnight, little bird,” he whispers, pressing the ghost of a kiss to your temple. You fall asleep pressed firmly against his chest, where you’re meant to be.

You bury your doubts. You love him. He loves you. Why is such a small comment enough to throw you? Do you have that little faith in your husband?

Or did it simply uncover concerns you were ignoring? Force them into the light of day when you would much rather have let them rot?

You’re happy. What else could you want or need?

A month passes, then two. You’ve forgotten the conversation. You must have. You don’t lay awake at night, overturning small interactions in your head, desperate to find some hidden meaning in it.

He always calls you little. Is it simple affection, or is it demeaning? Does he see you as less than?

Of course not. Not your Doffy.

“I think I might want to visit home.” You bring it up casually, as you’re tucked against his chest. He’s in his throne, lounging, perfectly relaxed, with you perched on his lap.

He laughs. “Darling, you are home.”

“I know. I mean–I want to visit my home island.”

A miniscule tightening around his eyes. “Why would you want to do that? After everything that they put you through?”

You knew he wouldn’t be keen on the idea. You can’t even figure out why you want to go back, because he’s right: they put you through hell. You were miserable before Doffy got you out of there. Your home had chewed you up and spit you out, and there’s nothing left for you there. It really wasn’t home at all, not anymore. Doffy never liked you referring to it as such.

But a few bad years can’t erase everything it was before the fall. You can remember your childhood, sprinting through the most beautiful flower fields with your friends. Diving into the creek, coming up soaking wet, freezing cold, and feeling freer than you had since. You remember the taste of the pastries at the cafe you used to work at, the same one you met Doflamingo at. In many ways, it was still and would always be home, no matter how long you had been away. No matter what the people there might have done to you.

“I know everything ended terribly, but…”

“But?” A raised brow, a slightly bulging vein on his forehead.

“I still have a lot of good memories from before. Places I miss. People I might be able to forgive, if I saw them again.”

His nostrils flare. His controlled smile finally falls. “Forgive? Darling, they don’t deserve your forgiveness. They don’t even deserve to live in the same world as you, let alone have the privilege of seeing you again. This has been a fun joke and all, but let’s end it here. Going there will only hurt you.” His arm tightens slightly around your waist, hugging you to him protectively.

Possessively, part of your mind whispers.

“It’s been nearly a decade, love. I’ve changed. I’m sure they’ve changed. And…I feel like all of that still hangs over me, sometimes. Even though I’ve tried to let it go. I think going back to see it would help me finally loosen the hold it has over me.”

He doesn’t say no, because you hadn’t been asking for permission. You were simply informing him of your thoughts. He couldn’t make your choices for you. He had never taken away your ability to decide, not once. But somehow his displeasure makes your heart quicken, your stomach churn. When Doffy is displeased, something in you screams that you’ve done something wrong, something you need to fix. You didn’t do anything that he would disagree with, not if you could help it. You always told yourself it was simply because you were partners, that it was natural that you would factor in his opinion.

But how many times had he asked you about his comings and goings? How many times had he told you his plans, instead of just disappearing and reappearing when he decided the time was right?

“You should protect that delicate heart of yours, darling. Who knows what going back would do to it?”

“But I’m different now. Older. Stronger.”

He chuckles, like you’ve told him some silly joke. “But still soft.”

You want to disagree, but there’s something in his tone that makes you feel so horribly small. Weak and vulnerable, some storybook damsel waiting for your prince (or king, in this case) to come sweep you away and fix everything for you. “Do you really think that?”

His eyes narrow slightly at the tone in your voice, the hurt hiding beneath it. His own voice grows softer in turn. “You’re a sensitive soul. It’s one of your best qualities, dear.”

You nod, pushing your face into his neck. You can feel him relax beneath you as you desperately try to stop your thoughts from racing. Are you sensitive, weak, soft? You cannot recall anyone else ever calling you such things. You had been so headstrong when you were young. Perhaps that’s what drove everyone away.

You clutch his shirt tightly, as though tethering yourself to him will simply fix all of this, calm your mind and bring back the peace you used to enjoy. That’s how you got all of this in the first place, really. A strong hand on your back, guiding you away from the burning flames of your old life.

The feeling doesn’t leave. It infuriates you how deeply it’s weaseled its way into you, such a small thing turning over and over and over in your mind. Something so meaningless threatening to pull you apart at the seams. You can feel your edges fraying, feel the way you’re starting to fall apart.

You can still hear Baby 5’s voice whispering in your head. Just like how Doffy looks at you. 

For the first time in your life, you intend to keep a secret from your husband. You scribble the messages quickly, shoving the papers back into your desk when you hear footsteps coming down the hall. You know that you aren’t doing anything wrong, but the idea of disappointing him, disagreeing with him, makes you sick to your stomach.

It’s only once you feel his hand on your shoulder, see his pursed lips as he looms over you where you were lost in your work that you remember that the reason you have never kept a secret from your husband is simply because you couldn’t. He knows everything about you, everything that happens under this room, everything happening within the borders of Dressrosa. You never stood a chance. 

“Darling…” he doesn’t need to continue. His sigh says enough, sets you on the defensive. 

“I never said I wouldn’t send them,” you mutter, a childish anger overtaking you. “And I don’t need your permission.”

His lips set in a thin line. “I never said you did.”

“It’s been nearly a decade. They’ve probably changed. And if they haven’t, then at least I can say I tried.”

His free hand pinches the bridge of his nose as his brow furrows. “Little bird, you’re the only one who ever tried. They never gave you a thing.”

“They gave me plenty.”

“What, then, did they give you? Pain? Suffering? An unending desire to please everyone around you?”

“They gave me plenty, before everything happened.” You can feel your muscles tensing, an unfamiliar anger bubbling up in your chest.

“I can’t recall a single kind thing they ever did for you, my dear.”

“I had a life before you, Doflamingo,” you snap. “Do you really think I’m so helplessly stupid I’d try to reconnect with someone who was nothing but cruel to me? They used to be kind. They used to care about me. Something changed. And if something changes once, it can change again. I’m not some doe-eyed fool begging for a kind touch from a hand that’s only ever bruised me. I’m just going to give them a chance to redeem themselves, or at least explain themselves.” You’re breathing heavily, teeth clenching. You very rarely raise your voice at your husband, but you’re tired of this. Of him looking at you like you’re so defenseless, so pathetic.

There’s a strange look in his eyes when you finish, something you can’t place. He takes his hands off of you, putting them up in surrender. “Of course, dear. I didn’t mean to imply you were incapable. I simply worry about my wife.” There’s an emphasis on his last words, on your title, your role. “But I suppose I shouldn’t presume to know about…your life before me.”

He spits the words like they’re poison in his mouth.

He stares at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before you realize the situation you’re in. You’re the one keeping secrets. You’re the one who snapped. You’re the one who wouldn’t drop the issue. You, you, you. A part of you screams that he’s the one who pushed you, but aren’t you still the one who jumped?

“...I’m sorry, love, for snapping. I know you worry.”

He doesn’t move.

“I understand why you’re concerned, really. I just…this feels like something I have to do.”

Still nothing.

“If they don’t respond, then I’ll drop it. I just want to take a chance.”

He lets out a breath, before he wraps his arms around you. “Of course, dear.” His grip on you grows a little tighter. “I just can’t help but want to protect you. It’s my job, after all. And I take it very seriously.”

“I know. I appreciate the sentiment, I just wish you trusted me a bit more.”

His voice grows softer. “Oh, dear, of course I trust you. It’s everyone else that I don’t trust.” He chuckles quietly. “Well, if it’s really that important to you, I won’t stand in your way. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

You sigh, burying your nose in his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And so the envelopes are sealed the next day, handed off to a servant to be shipped off.

You keep telling yourself the letters don’t mean anything. Don’t have anything to do with the creeping dread slowly overtaking you. This is simply an act of connection, of potential forgiveness. It has nothing to do with your home life. But you can’t deny the way your eyes keep nervously drifting over each envelope labeled with your name, the disappointment when it never has the return address you were hoping for. Weeks pass, then months. 

Whenever he catches you lingering near the mailbox, Doffy always gives you a sympathetic look, a small click of the tongue. “Don’t you see, darling? You expect too much of them. You give people far more credit than they deserve.”

“It’s all the way in the North Blue. Mail can take a while to get there.” You don’t sound convincing, even to your own ears.

He sighs. “I hate seeing you hurt yourself like this, dear.” He approaches from behind, wrapping his arms around you, tucking you tightly against him, rocking you slightly. “Don’t give your attention to those unworthy of it. You have everyone and everything you need right here.”

He’s right. He’s always right.

You wait anyway.

The letters never come.

You expected this, it stings anyway. Even now, they can’t even spare you a thought. Your life was ripped to shreds, and they can’t even give you this. You don’t even exist in their memories anymore. You’re the only one who carries this pain, and you do it alone.

You try to talk to Doffy about it again, and while he plays the doting husband, you can see the satisfaction in his eyes. The pity in his face as he cradles you, the condescending, “Oh, dear, I knew you’d hurt yourself like this. You don’t need them," just screams I told you so. You can only be thankful he doesn’t say it aloud, his smile all teeth as he chuckles and pets your head like some pampered pet.

But he wouldn’t do that. He loves you.

The restlessness you feel doesn’t subside. You’ve taken to wandering aimlessly through the palace, as though you’ll suddenly find the answers hiding around a dusty corner and you’ll find the peace you so desperately crave. You want normalcy again. You want to lay in your husband’s arms and not wonder how much of his softened gaze and gentle caress is a lie, a carefully constructed act meant to keep you where he wants you. You know it isn’t true, really.

But the gnawing continues all the same.

The answers you wished for come in the form of an overfilled trash can.

You occasionally bring snacks to Doflamingo while he’s working. He doesn’t like you being in his office for long, preferring to keep you separated from the messy goings on of his work life, but you can tell he enjoys these small visits. Sometimes, on days when he isn’t busy, he pulls you onto his lap, allowing you to curl into him and enjoy the feeling of safety in his arms as he fills out miscellaneous paperwork or checks over maps. You used to cherish those moments.

Today’s conversation is brief, Doflamingo’s frustration with some issue or another clear in his every action. His teeth are clenched even as he thanks you, even as his lips brush against your temple before you turn to leave. You can’t help the jitteriness you feel, the way his discomfort sends a buzzing through your body. Once he makes it clear you cannot fix the issue (in as gentle of a tone as he’s capable of), you’re ready to make your escape, to hope the nausea subsides once you’re far enough away. You’re so upset you almost miss the envelope in the trashcan next to the door, no writing visible except for the return address.

It’s from a little island in the North Blue, known for its beautiful flower fields. 

You can’t help the choked noise that escapes your throat.

“Are you alright?” His eyes glance up from the paper in front of him, the slightest hint of concern behind them.

“What’s this?” Your voice is hardly a whisper. Your hand begins to reach for the trashcan, but you pull it back at the last second. No, it can’t be. And if it is, you don’t want to know.

“What’s what, darling?”

He wouldn’t do this to you. It’s a coincidence. There’s dozens of businesses on the island, many of which might be useful for a king and even more useful for a pirate. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, do this to you.

“This letter.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears, your hands shaking. The only thing that keeps you from exploding is the genuine confusion on his face. “What letter?”

You fish it out of the trashcan, slowly bringing it back to him. It’s covered in spilled ink which has soaked through the paper. It’s clear that the letter inside is ruined, and the only thing you can make out on the front is a street name and the island. “Why was this in the trash?”

He frowns, his brow furrowing. He reaches for it, investigating it so thoroughly you can convince yourself this is the first time he’s seen it. It’s only when his gaze falls to the address that his eyes light up in understanding. “Oh. Oh, dear.”

“Was this for me?”

“I don’t know, dear, but there’s certainly a chance.” His voice is gentle as he reaches for you. “I’m sorry if it was. I don’t know what happened.”

It’s unlike him to apologize. It’s unlike him to admit to not knowing, to not being in absolute control. But god, you want it to be true. You want the comfort he offers. You fall into him, pressing your face into his chest, barely holding back a sob. “What if it was? What if that’s the only response I’ll get, and it’s gone forever? What if my only chance at peace has slipped through my fingers?”

His hands are gentle as they rub circles on your back. “I’ll figure out what happened. I promise whoever did this will be punished, little bird. I’ll never tolerate someone hurting you.” His lips brush against the top of your head, kind and caring and protective, exactly how you’ve always known him to be. “I had others in my office earlier, I’m sure one of them did this. I’ll find out who.”

It takes him nearly an hour to calm you down, but he does it without rushing. All of his work, his empire, set aside for you. How could you doubt him, even for a moment, with your proof of his devotion right here?

He tucks you gently into your shared bed after you calmed down, encouraging you to take a nap to recuperate. A glass of water is left by the bedside for you, and he places an extra blanket on top of you to keep you warm and cozy. 

You don’t know how long your nap is. It certainly isn’t long, considering the sun is still in the sky, but it was enough to ease the pounding in your head from the sobbing. You aren’t thinking as you crawl out of bed and begin to wander in the direction of your husband’s office. You’re still a little upset, a little off kilter, and while it may be selfish to interrupt him twice in a day you want to bask in his care a bit more.

An angry voice stops you in your tracks.

“You threw them out?” He sounds furious, his voice booming down the hall. You know you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, should trust your husband to take care of it, but you linger near the door anyway.

“You said to get rid of them!” You don’t recognize the voice, but you recognize the fear. It’s how everyone sounds in front of Doflamingo, faced with his power and grace. With the knowledge he wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever he needed to them to get what he wanted.

“Yes, and I expected you to do it right! Burn them, rip them up, whatever it takes! To make sure nobody finds them! Not leave them sitting at the top of a trash can, in my office, where anybody can see them! I’m used to being surrounded by fools, but this is beyond comprehension!” You hear the cracking of wood, and somehow you know he’s broken his desk. As much as you want to stay and hear the rest, the bile rising in your throat forces you away, back to your room, where you can hide under the covers and finally break down.

He had been taking your letters. You knew that, really, but you had so badly wanted to convince yourself otherwise. He had made sure you would never want to go back, simply because he didn’t want you to. He took your choice away. Why was he so desperate to keep you here? What harm was there in you finally letting go of everything that happened?

You had been miserable. You had spent years terrified that Doflamingo would abandon you next, just like your family and friends did. You had clutched him so tightly your knuckles turned white, and he had cooed and assured you he would never leave you, not like they did. “I love you, little bird. You’re mine. It’s my job to protect and care for you, and I intend to do that for the rest of my life.”

Is that how he wanted you? Insecure and desperate to remain at his side? Perhaps he loved you because you were easy. So eager to please, to bend yourself to his will until you nearly snap as long as it keeps him around, keeps anybody around. Maybe he was as desperate as you were, in a way, because it didn’t have to be him you latched onto.

You bite your cheek hard enough to draw blood. No more thoughts like that. It had to be Doflamingo. He was your husband, your family, and nothing can take that away. Not even this betrayal. Surely he thought he was doing what was best for you. He may be selfish, but never when it comes to you.

This was controlling, it was wrong, but it wasn’t cruel. And as loathe as you are to admit it, it wasn’t out of character. He’s always been in control, his entire life. It wouldn’t seem wrong to him for that to extend to some of yours.

You should go in and talk to him. You should figure out why he would do this. Some twisted form of protection? Jealousy? Fear? You should do something, anything, to get to the bottom of this.

You crawl back into bed instead.

You accept his embrace when he joins you. You don’t push him away when he rolls on top of you, whispering how much he loves you, how happy he is that you’re his. You fall asleep in his arms, as you’ve always done.

You spent months begging the universe for answers, for some sort of proof, and now that you’ve gotten it, you’re sticking your head in the sand. What a coward. You can’t even bring yourself to be angry with him. Maybe you’re in shock, or maybe he’s just done such a good job at clipping your wings you simply don’t know what to do without him, and you don’t care to find out. You tell yourself you just love him, trust him. You ignore any whisper in your head that says the contrary.

The days pass normally, as quickly as they always do. You almost feel normal, after a while, have almost convinced yourself that everything is fine, as it’s always been.

The bird at your window is a surprise. It taps hurriedly, almost as though it’s afraid to tarry for too long. The letter tied to its leg somehow isn’t.

The script is hurried and messy. You recognize it immediately. It was written by a boy you had once run through the wild with, one you had shared every step of growing up with. It was his betrayal that had hurt the most.

The letter is nearly impossible to decipher. Your friend always did have terrible handwriting. You used to tease him for how nobody else could figure out what he meant, how sometimes even he couldn’t read his own writing. But you were always good at it, somehow always on the same page as him, no matter how small his chicken scratch was.

I didn’t expect to hear from you ever again. I’m glad I did. I’ve missed you, all of these years. I’ve wondered if you were safe, if you were happy.

I’m sorry for my cowardice. I’m sorry for pushing you away. But I was scared. That pirate made himself very clear: get away from you, or he was going to kill me.

No.

No, no, no.

No, that can’t be right.

I don’t know if he meant it. But with everything else that came after, I suspect he did. I don’t know what he said to your landlord, or your boss, or anyone else. But I know he spoke to them, and I know you were gone soon after. I’m sorry I was never brave enough to tell you in person, or to send you this letter until now. I didn’t know where you went, and I was sure you’d never want to speak to me again anyway. 

I’m glad you’re safe, or as safe as you can be. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I would be now, if I could. Not that that means much, really.

You place the paper down, shoving your head in your hands. No. This can’t be true. He may be controlling, he may be overprotective, but he would never hurt you. Not like this. Your husband would never have purposefully made you miserable. He would do a lot, but not that.

But you can’t help but remember how perfect his timing was, every time. How he’d gently encouraged you to open up in the days after you realized your friends were ignoring you. How he found you sobbing outside of the cafe after you’d been fired. How he found you idly wandering the streets after your landlord kicked you out. How he found you every time, right on time, assuring you that you didn’t need to worry anymore, that you could just rely on him now. That he always looked after his family, and he would love for you to be a part of it.

You look back on your life together. Had you ever made the choice to be here, or did he simply lure you in with the right bait every time? How many steps had you taken without realizing he was the one leading you here?

You could excuse a lot, deny even more. You can tell yourself again and again that he loved you, that everything he’s done has been for your own good. But hurting you? Hurting the people you loved? Even you couldn’t justify that.

He doesn’t even look up when you walk into his office. He hums quietly in acknowledgement, his pen scratching softly against the page. It’s only when you furiously slam the letter down on his desk that he finally looks at you.

“What’s this, darling?”

“I finally got a response. An intact one.”

He glances down at it, sneering slightly. “Intact? Dear, that’s illegible.”

“Did you threaten my friends for talking to me?”

He’s an excellent liar, a well practiced one. But you’ve known him for a decade, spent hours staring at him, starry eyed, tracking his every move. You can see the slight stiffening of his shoulders, the slight narrowing of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“How many people have you done this to, Doflamingo?”

He huffs. “None. What are you talking about? Who said this to you?”

“Why do you want to know? So you can make good on your promise to hurt him?” You begin to pace, fury bubbling beneath your skin. “I can’t believe you would do this.”

“I want to know so I can know who you’re believing over your own husband.” He puts on an air of hurt, one that tugs at your heartstrings, but you won’t fall this time.

“I have tried to believe in you again and again, pushing down my doubt because I was so sure my husband would never do anything like this. But the evidence just keeps coming.”

“What evidence, exactly?” He snaps, annoyance slipping through. “The crazed ranting of some jealous old acquaintance? One who hurt you beyond repair a decade ago?”

“The first goddamn letter you tried to get rid of, first off all.” He opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “Don’t try to deny it, I heard you losing your mind on whoever you told to do it. I tried so hard to tell myself you were doing it out of some misguided attempt to protect me, but this proves you just did it to protect yourself. You just didn’t want me to know what you’d done.”

He sighs. “Dear, you’re working yourself up into a frenzy. You couldn’t have heard something that never happened.”

“Don’t lie to me! God, you must think I’m so stupid. You always have. And why wouldn’t you? I’ve fallen for everything, this entire time! I kept telling myself that this was normal, that you loved me, that this was what I wanted. I was so scared of losing you I let you look me in the eye and lie to me every goddamn day.”

“You want the truth?” He’s standing now, walking around the desk that separated you. “Can you handle that, dear? We can’t take back our words.”

You barely suppress the frustrated sob working its way out of your mouth. “Yes, please, give me the truth. That’s all I want.”

His gaze softens as he looks at you, the way it always does. God, he has to make this so hard. “I’ll always give you what you want.” He reaches out, but you take a step back. He gives you your space, for now. “When we first met, I may have had a few…long talks with some people you knew. Just to make my intentions clear.”

“How many people?”

“I can’t recall exact numbers.”

“Are you why I lost my job at the cafe?”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment. “Yes.”

“Are you why I got evicted?”

“Yes.”

You curl in on yourself. “God. What the hell? Why would you do this to me?” You can feel your world crashing down as every memory of the last ten years is tainted, rotting from the inside out. It was never real. None of it. “Why would you ruin my life? What did I ever do to you? Why did you pick me up after like some stray dog? Did you feel guilty?”

You expected anger. He was always prone to it, after all. You had expected his tense shoulders and gnashing teeth, a fierce insistence that you were wrong to be upset, to question him. That he was right like always, and that anything he did was simply the best option to some grand end goal you couldn’t see. What you hadn't anticipated was the confusion: the look on his face so lost it was almost childlike. "Ruin your life? You wanted this. I gave you what you wanted."

"You think I wanted–what, to be miserable?”

He has the audacity to look concerned. “Are you miserable? You’re supposed to be happy.”

“Happy? You hurt people! Hurt me!"

He bristles at that. "I never hurt you. You are my wife, my family, my responsibility. I look out for you. I protect you. Those obstacles were–"

"Obstacles? Doflamingo, they were people!” 

“They’re nothing compared to you.”

You feel like you’re slamming your head into the wall. What is he not getting? Why does he not seem to think he’s done anything wrong? Why would he hide it if he thought he was right? “Nothing? I–God. What would ever make you think I wanted any of this?"

"You told me yourself!" He says it with such conviction.

You’re about to scream, to run out of this office and into the night, never to be seen again. He must be insane. More than you ever thought possible. 

But suddenly you remember it. A small conversation, a month or two after you first met. You didn’t even know his name yet, only knew him as the handsome blond who always tipped well. He had been sipping his coffee slowly, an excuse to keep occupying the table and, in turn, you. His question had seemed so innocent then.

"Do you want to leave this place?"

"What?"

"Are you happy here, I mean. Do you really want to stay here, working yourself to the bone, when you could be living in the lap of luxury?"

You laugh. "I don't know what kind of luxury I could get so easily. Things like that don't just come to people like me. I have bills to pay."

He hums quietly. "But if it could come? Would you really still be here if you had someone to take care of you? If you didn't have to worry about all of this?"

You give a sardonic smile as you wipe down his table. "Mister, you say it like it's so easy. I have things to do, people to help. I couldn't leave them behind just because it'd be better for me."

You can't see them through his sunglasses, but somehow you feel his eyes pierce through you anyway. "But if all of that wasn't a concern? Then you'd want to leave?"

"Sure, in that fantasy world, I'd love to see what the world has to offer. But I live here, in reality, and I have another table glaring at me, so I'll be back in a few minutes."

And that was it. Such a small exchange, barely worth noting.

You never thought much of the conversation. You really didn't. But sitting here, now, you're starting to see it for what it was to him: permission. An invitation to do whatever he thought would get you here. Why wouldn't a pirate act on such an opportunity?

You can barely swallow the bile rising in your throat.

“You couldn’t have possibly–” Your voice catches, and through his frustration you see something almost resembling pity peek through for just a moment. Somehow that’s the most infuriating part of all of this.

“Couldn’t have what? Thought you were being honest? I knew you were, darling. I knew you were meant to be here. I knew you would never have taken the first step with everyone in that shithole holding you down. What was I supposed to do? Leave you there?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what you should have fucking done! You don’t ruin lives over a stupid flight of fucking fancy–”

“Don’t call it that.” There’s that oh so familiar rage. His teeth clenched, his nails digging into his fists, his eyes burning so hot from behind his glasses you can feel the room raise a couple degrees. “Don’t you dare demean what we have. Don’t dismiss the last ten years. You are my wife. My partner. Mine.”

He’s stalking toward you, long past worrying about frightening you.

“Don’t you dare treat my devotion like some schoolboy’s crush.”

You think you would laugh if your heart were not beating out of your chest. Before today, you would have sworn your husband would never hurt you. But now, you don’t know if you can trust anything you think. Not anymore. Clearly you’re an idiot, naive and foolish, incapable of sensing danger even when it’s right in front of you. So when he reaches for you, you flinch.

He has the gall to look hurt. His posture relaxes as he reaches for you again, slower this time. His hands reach to delicately cradle your face, but you pull away, curling in on yourself. “Don’t touch me.”

“Darling–”

“Don’t ‘darling’ me. I’m not your darling. I don’t even know who you are. My entire life is a lie.” You barely manage to hold in a sob. He boxes you in, trying to pull you into his arms, wash away your pain as he always does. You fall to the floor, curling into a ball, desperately trying to avoid him. This familiar softness might break you. “Don’t touch me.”

He puts his hands up in surrender, but he doesn’t back away. “Your life isn’t a lie, little bird. Everything that matters is still true: I’m your husband and I love you.”

“Do you?”

The corner of his eye twitches. “Of course I do. Do you think I would do all of this for anyone? Only for you, my dear. Only you’re worth all of this. I’m sorry for frightening you, but I promise everything I have ever done is for you.” His voice is soft and cautious, as though he’s trying to lure in a wounded animal. You suppose in a way he is.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You pull yourself in tighter, your nails digging into your legs, the pain the only thing grounding you.

“You didn’t have to do anything. You were mine from the moment I saw you.” He says it with a dreamy tone, one that could be easily confused for a normal husband, so deeply in love with his wife. But beneath it there’s an obsession, a depravity to it.

“I don’t want to be yours.” The pitiful protest of a child, weak and wavering.

“Oh, darling, you don’t mean that.” He bends down to look you in the eye, put himself on your level. The condescension sets your teeth on edge. “I know you’re upset, dear, but you shouldn’t say things like that. A lesser man would be hurt.”

“A better man would believe me.”

You see the flash of rage that he swallows down before he opens his mouth again. “You’re lucky I’m patient, lover. Who knows what would happen if I took these little provocations seriously.”

“You never take me seriously.” So much of your life spent under the thumb of a man who didn’t even trust you to choose him yourself. Who didn’t trust you to choose a life together.

“You’re clearly overwhelmed. Take a minute to collect yourself.”

He didn’t disagree. So many lies for so many years, but he can’t give you the one you really want to hear.

“I want to go home.” Your voice is so pathetic, so broken.

“You are home.” His voice is gentle, but firm. A statement, a command beneath it. He leaves no room for disagreement.

“No. No, I’m not.” You close your eyes, picturing fields of your childhood. The smell of the flowers, the feeling of the sunlight on your face. The last time you had truly been free.

“You’re home, and you aren’t leaving.”

You feel yourself being pulled forward, your arms moving of their own volition.

No, not their own.

His.

His strings force your arms around him as he engulfs you in a suffocating embrace. His voice is no less sickeningly adoring than it was before. "Do what you want to me, darling. Hate me, fear me, hurt me. Rip me to shreds with your own two hands if you wish. But don't you dare leave me. You can do whatever you want as long as you're home safe."

Your voice trembles as you whisper, "And what if I wanted to leave?"

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, the condescending amusement of someone hearing a child wish for the impossible. "You don't. If you wanted to leave, you wouldn't have come here. Wouldn't have confronted me. Hell, you would have left the moment you found that first letter. Face it, little bird, you chose your cage. You love it here."

"But if I really wanted to?"

He smiles, all teeth. "Then I'd find you and bring you home.”

When he leans down to kiss you, you don’t have the energy to pull away. You can’t even feel afraid anymore as a deep sense of resignation washes over you. Ten years. Ten years of your life, gone if you leave. Your past burned under Doflamingo’s watchful eye, ensuring you have nowhere to return. Where else can you rest except your marriage bed?

It is that same bed he carries you to now, as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. The same bed where he takes you, as he has all these years. The same bed you’re pinned to, weighed down by an arm thrown across your waist. Despite everything, despite the fear and rage choking you, the feeling is somehow comforting.

Neither of you speak of it the next morning. What is there to say, really?

Your life is perfect. Your husband has made it so.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[crowttore]

Genshin characters as ways animals court and mate

Welcome to another round of (hopefully) the weirdest biology lessons you'll ever receive. Essentially a shitpost, someone should take away my writing privileges. There could be better suited animals out there, I just chose from the ones I know.

Characters: Arlecchino, Cyno, Alhaitham, Arataki Itto, Ororon, Xianyun, Zhongli

Not seeing your fav character? Link to more

Tags: nsfw in the way a national geographic documentary is, there are no graphic details but proceed at your own discretion

Arlecchino - Corcorax melanorhamphos (White-winged chough)

From the moment you breach The Knave's defences, it becomes inevitable that you'll become part of her family. She's not the best at romance and love (how could she have grown up to be?) and is often oddly direct, if a little clumsy, in her displays of affection. One thing you can be absolutely sure of is that she'll never let any harm come to you. You'll be invited to participate in activities at the House, she'll be lingering around you, and she'll be hoping that you offer your help to her children. That's what family does. Actions are worth so much more than words will ever be. The white-winged chough is a bird that lives in larger family groups and regularly steal unrelated offspring from neighbouring groups to increase their own group size and better ensure survival. All members take turn and help raise offspring (alloparenting) and do other tasks. They build incredibly sturdy nests, and individuals are known to be extremely territorial towards foreign birds.

Cyno - Erinaceus spp. (hedgehogs)

We all know that the General Mahamatra can be a bit.. annoying at times. And if he's actively trying to win you over? You best believe he's giving it his absolute best shot when he isn't out on the job, inviting you along wherever he goes to relax. To the great amusement (and embarrassment) of his friends, a choice strategy is to make you laugh... It's pretty cute, if a little pathetic at times. He makes genius invocation tcg decks for you to use against him, 100% has matching cards made of you both - you get his and he keeps yours. You can roll your eyes at his shenanigans as you please, he's persistent in his pursuit as long as you haven't outright rejected him. Erinaceus males will approach the sow and begin walking in circles around it, the female might occasionally hiss or swat at the male, sometimes even curling in on herself, but most of the time is just for show. The circling can continue for longer than an hour during which the male is huffing and trying to asses and approach.

Alhaitham - Haliaeetus leucocephalus (bald eagle)

Alhaitham isn't a man who loves easily. He enjoys his routine and his peace, meaning you are truly special to him if he decides to invite you into his life. He's a man of commitment and will do whatever he can to show you that he's quite serious about this. You can be certain that Alhaitham will be making sure you have everything you could need at his place, eager (even if he thinks he's being discreet) to let you know that he wants you there. When it comes to getting intimate, he's inexperienced but attentive, mentally taking note of every little reaction and direction you provide. Sometimes tho.. Alhaitham might need you to be a little more direct in your approach. Sure, he catches a lot and infers even more, but somehow, the most basic things seem to sometimes slip right past him... Plus, it's always nice to know that you're as interested as he is. We all know the 'bald eagles lock talons and plummet together'. But their courtship also involves showing off nest-building, very intricate little performances, a plethora of vocal calls... They're monogamous birds who bond for life, continuing courtship behaviour throughout their life to 'renew the spark'. During mating, the male will start by asking the female who will either nudge him away or position herself to be mounted. Seven to twelve seconds is what you get fellas. That's how long poor excited lovesick Alhaitham exchange of sperm lasts. Sometimes, the female will mount the male to let him know that she is ready.

Arataki Itto - Hypsignathus monstrosus (hammer-headed bat)

Oh boy. There's a reason I'm not an Itto fucker and this is part of it. Would absolutely take any chance he could (and probably try to set up even more chances...) to show you how cool he is. Always front and center, the adorable oni might very well get the brilliant idea to write you a song and perform in front of everyone at the next Iridescence Tour. Enters every single competition he can in an attempt to win you the prices and impress you. Hammer-headed bats engage in a courting behaviour known as 'lek mating', in which groups of males form a lek and establish performance areas. The males then hang from a branch, flapping their wings, and producing loud calls while females fly around and peruse the males available.

Ororon - Homarus americanus (American lobster)

Sweet sweet (awkward) Ororon. He needs you to be a little more direct with him if you expect anything more than being his bro... No matter what, he will cherish you and make sure you're healthy and safe (proudly bringing you so so many vegetables that he's grown). A female lobster will approach the den of a male before using specialised openings (nephropores) under the antennae to spray urine towards the opening of the den. She then uses her gills to create a current to ensure all the pheromones reach the male. If he thinks it's a match, he'll let her into the den and provide food and safety.

Xianyun / Cloud retainer - Grus japonensis (Manchurian crane)

As we've seen, Xianyun has quite the knack for designing pretty clothes, and once she's set her sights on courting someone, it doesn't take long for her 'daughters' to encourage her to make something that shows her off. Reluctant at first, wanting to make something nice for you instead (she ends up doing both) she eventually invites you for a stroll through the harbor. She's dazzling of course, leading you around while practically chatting your ear off. Next time you're invited to Mt. Aozang, she shows off the equally stunning garment prepared for you and makes you try it on before pulling out one of her musical contraptions and inviting you for a dance "to test the range of motion". Cranes in general exhibit 'elegant' courtship dances that are not only performed before initiating a partnership, but done regularly to strengthen the bond between two individuals. The courtship dance also shows off their plumeage, the health of which is important for selecting a partner.

Zhongli - Varanus komodoensis (komodo dragon)

The lord of geo knows what he wants, and Zhongli, the 'human', isn't all that different in your opinion. He treasures you above all else, treating you with such care despite how his instincts occasionally scream at him to jump you. Zhongli loves to nuzzle against you, loves the feeling of your fingers running along his scales while his claws are itching to do the same to you. It's unconscious how he licks at you, an urge to taste you that he simply can't resist, spending hours at a time with his face buried against your skin. And when you finally leave the house together once more? It only takes a single glance from him to dissuade any who would try to proposition you - not that you would ever trade your sweet, overgrown lizard of a husband for anything. Komodo dragons are quite the unusual lizard as they may form monogamous pairs (if not in a bonded pair, males will stand on their hind legs and fight other males for access to females). Mating between dragons can be pretty fierce, leading the male to pin the female beneath him to avoid getting hurt. Typical mating behaviours include rubbing his chin on the female, extensive licking, and scratching each other.

I do also write regular fanfic, I promise.

[shiny-jr]

from POMEFIORE

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Epel Felmier.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: Hoping its not too out of character.

Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore   |   Scarabia

Perfume. The carefully sealed envelope reeked of it, like the sweet smell of lavender with spice. The envelope containing the message looked like something you would find when getting an invitation to a ball or a wedding. The envelope was pristine, and the wax sealing it was done so perfectly without a single awkward edge.

It almost looked unnatural with how perfect it appeared. The thick beige parchment was cut evenly, and not a blot of ink strayed from the elegantly curved cursive words that looked like ribbons upon the page. Looks could be deceiving. It was beautiful, but as you might've already guessed, the interior didn't entirely match what was hidden beneath the surface.

To my darling player,

I am at fault and take full responsibility for my actions.

All I've ever wished for, was to admire you. You are the epitome of magnificence, divinity that I can only dream to one day achieve but knowing I will never truly reach. There's an otherworldly sort of allure to you, which drew me in far too close. Much like the man who enhanced himself with wings of wax, but flew too close to the sun so his wings melted and he met a terrible fate. You are the sun, and I was that reckless fool with fake wings.

I allowed myself to get too close, tainting your light with my imperfect presence. Your grace was the warm sunlight on my skin, when everything around me was a horrible darkness. To think, I attempted to put out that light. It was nearly diminished. For that, I should be burned. I'm sorry, so so sorry.

I've thought long and hard on what I could possibly say to you, what sort of response could be adequate enough considering what you mean to me and the delicate situation. It didn't take long for me to arrive to the answer: no response is fitting. It doesn't matter if I pen a letter long enough to rival the river of tears I shed, coat the envelope in gold and ink of silver, with a message that would have moved the seven themselves to weep. It does not change the betrayal that occurred. I betrayed the trust you gave me, and shattered it into millions of pieces. However, know that I'll be on my hands and knees piecing it back together again, even if the shards cause me to bleed, you are worth it.

The stabbing sensation on my skin would be nothing compared to the one in my heart that I feel when I consider the fact that you might despise me. There's nothing more I would want than to see your face, hold your hands and feel the warmth of your skin that's so unlike the coldness of your vessel. Requesting a meeting would be imperious, as I have no right to ask you of this. But if I could, I would love to see you and discuss what comes next, perhaps over lunch. This is just a thought, a wish of mine, but one you are not required to fulfill.

I'd love to believe that I know you and your vessel better than anyone else could even dream of understanding, but I know that is far from the truth. Even as I pampered and polished your precious doll, your secrets continue to escape me. Did you ever hear me, when I brushed and washed Yuu's hair? When I took their freezing cold hands and painted their nails? When kneeled down in front of them to polish their shoes? When I adorned the best luxuries of brand accessories on their body?

I would kneel down to no one else.

There was always this wish, a dream of mine, that one day I might perhaps one day get to pamper you. Not Yuu. But you. Is that a scandalous desire?

Your hands would be warm, and I would hold them as I file your nails. Your arm wouldn't be so rigid and mechanical, you could actually extend it as I slather a creamy scented lotion along your skin. And if you do desired, I could lift your head and apply lipstick to your lips... This is just the process I commonly used while your vessel was under my care.

Although, I would gladly take up the responsibility of nursing you back to health, or any other role you would give me. There are countless things I can accomplish for you. I commonly deal in potent poisons, but I can just as well deal in healing and comforting. I'm skilled in self-defense and various forms of magic, so I can be your companion to protect you from everything that would wish you harm. You know of my business in acting and singing, so even if you wanted nothing else I could be there to entertain or serenade you. I only wish to be with you again, even though I know I'm underserving. I'm selfish.

If you want nothing more, then I have to be satisfied knowing I was in your thoughts for a brief moment. A twisted part of me wants your mind to be plagued by thoughts of me, just as my mind and heart is full of you.

I have to remind myself, that by getting too close I risk being burnt. But, at this point, I do not care for my own safety. I only care for yours, and I do this to keep my sanity. I truly admire you so much, that I cannot adore you from afar behind a rope like sculpture in a museum. I have to stand nearby, inspect your beauty, polish you to a shine, and value you like the priceless treasure that you are. Should someone threaten to chip off even the slightest speck on you, forcing you through more suffering...

I will shatter them into a million pieces, to preserve your peace.

Yours,

Vil Schoenheit

The wonderful aromatic smell that filled your nose brought back some not so pleasant memories. The smell of the earth beneath your feet, the scent of dew collected on every still surface, but above all were fragrant tangs that immediately alerted you to any nearby presence of a student belonging to Pomefiore.

They had chased you through those deep dark woods, like a pack of rabid hounds tracking and hunting a poor wounded rabbit. Besides their shouts and footfall, their perfume gave them away. There was one in particular which you only caught a whiff of only when you had too closely encountered the dormleader. The scent of lavender and spice hit your nose, the same fragrance on the letter.

"That reeks! Burn it!" A certain feline hissed, covering his little black nose with his paws. You swore the fragrance was beginning to form a migraine at the front of your skull. If the smell was strong for you, it must've been much worse for Grim since he had a superior sense of smell.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if the smell wasn't that strong and it wasn't the particular scent. Like vanilla or freshly baked bread. If that were the case, Grim might've insisted on keeping it or even be tempted to take a bite out of the sheet.

But it was lavender and spice. So the letter was tossed into a corner several feet away, left to an unknown fate that you would ultimately decide later. When you glanced back to Grim, you saw him holding and sniffing another letter.

For a long moment his sniffed the rolled up paper, his black nose twitching as he was likely just searching for another gift to claim as a snack. After a few seconds, he discarded it, sliding it over to you before he opted to dig through the pile like a raccoon digging into a heap of trash. "Meh, this one smells boring."

"Boring, huh?"

Boring wouldn't exactly be your choice of adjectives to describe this letter. It wasn't an envelope, it was a scroll tied by ribbon, attached to an arrow. An arrow, of all things, was likely the messenger for this message. Thankfully, this one didn't smell of anything. Even without a fragrance to match to a profile, the arrow was a dead giveaway.

Opening it up and using your hands to smooth out the curled edges, you blatantly ignored the wax seal over the ribbon. Once it was fully unsealed, a few single flower petals drifted down from the paper. Just another mess you would sweep up later and decide whether to dispose of it or not, like the first letter from the dormleader. For this one you were a pinch anxious. The sender was not like the others who came before.

Trickster,

It relieves me to see that you are finally safe.

To see you rest and heal in tranquility, nothing steadies my anxiously beating heart more than knowing you are sheltered. Well guarded by a trio of ghosts and the courageous feline Grim, I have no need to stress over your wellbeing with them acting as your valiant knights in shining armor! Although, I would also wish to join their ranks, blessed by your grace and fit to serve as your shield. However...

I am conscious enough to know that I am nowhere near fitting, no matter how much I may wish to reach out and shield you from every evil. In that most vital moment, I had failed to recognize you. I may have spared you from the sharpness of my blade, but I couldn't have guarded you from the suffering that was to come afterwards.

I'm so deeply and truly sorry. Many sleepless nights have followed, since and even before our first fateful encounter in those woods of the Pomefiore estate. Before our encounter, I was conflicted. I wanted to detest you, but I could not, I thought there must be a reason this was all occurring. I couldn't slumber peacefully, so long as I knew there was turbulence surrounding your beloved vessel. After our encounter, I couldn't get the vision of you fragile, frightened, and wounded, out of my mind. Raising a blade against you, who were a stranger shrouded in infamy, made my very heart stop.

Now I know why I was so unexplainably drawn to you. It was not due to the wild frenzy that overtook the entire campus, or a burning hatred to destroy, or even my own desire to discover answers I desperately wanted, although that last one may have played a role. The reason as to I was so enticed by you, a cunning 'imposter,' was because my heart recognized you. It must have been my very soul that pulled me towards you, and perhaps my own nature as well. My body recognized you, my heart and my soul led me to you, but I was blinded by my sorrows.

Throughout the few years I've had on this wonderful earth, I've seen countless peoples, and you are unlike any of which I've seen. In the places I've been, I have witnessed poetry be written by masters of literacy, melodies sung by the most angelic voices ever heard on a stage, and devoted worshippers in holy places kneel in solemn prayer. Somehow you as a single being, or entity, encompass all those elements into one. My aim is to admire beauty, and I see beauty in its finest form when I look at you.

I truly understand what you mean to me, and to others.

But at the same time, you remain a mystery. And I believe I'm speaking for all those who admire you when I say this. We could only dream of truly understanding you, when we only had Yuu.

So, I try to make sense of it all in what I do understand, in the beautiful things I adore that I associate with you who I cherish. In literature, music, photography, I see you in everything all at once. When I read poetic lines, I think I could share it with you. When I hear beautiful music, I imagine you might enjoy listening to the tune too. When I discover stunning sceneries, I plan to bring you there someday to share a moment with you.

Now, I can make sense of it. I understand how the poets of old felt as they penned the love and awe they felt towards the Fairest Queen. It's a rare sentiment that cannot easily be put into words, a feeling as if it held my delicate heart and squeezed when I so much as thought of you. When a song and its composer can bring an audience to tears, I understand that now too. Hearing your voice for the first time, formed a knot in my throat that prevented me from saying much. Catching that first glimpse of you, was like gazing at a perfect painted portrait hanging in a museum.

My dearest player, I am a Hunt. I am naturally inquisitive by nature, and my fondness for you comes just as naturally. You may consider it wrong, but I will continue to offer my loyalty even if you may not accept it.

My aim is to one day unlock your secrets, solve your mysteries, and understand you fully, learn what makes you tick and what drives you forward. Perhaps when the day comes when you've forgiven me for my crimes, I can proudly stand in your presence and recite the poems I have written in your name. I could admire you everyday from then on, and remind you everyday of your worth. Then, I will protect you, from all harm, and I will not allow myself to fail you once again. This is a promise.

Should you need me, I will be there.

Yours,

Rook Hunt

There was something that felt... off. Compared to some of the previous letters, these were rather tame. Of course, there was the desperation and fascination evident in their words captured by the ink, but it was nowhere near as extreme as other cases.

Although, it was still chilling, to read the thoughts they penned.

In your hand you held the arrow the letter had been connected to, feeling its thin shape and the sharpened head at its tip that nearly pricked your finger. The vice dormleader had excellent aim, and had he not been so kind, arrows like this one in your hand could've easily been driven through your flesh and caught you against a tree where you would've been helpless in their grasps.

And yet, despite the opportunities he had, he didn't let a single weapon touch you. All it would take was one arrow, one moment and he could've ended you where you stood. But he spared you. However, there's the lingering doubt that maybe the primary reason he did it was he hoped you had answers to the malfunctioning vessel. You couldn't be sure exactly why he spared you, when everyone had wanted to torment and imprison you or worse.

Beside you, there's a large crunch and a content purr. When you look over, there's Grim, happily munching away on an apple he held with his little paws. He sank his fangs into the fruit, content that he finally found an offering that appeased him. In front of him was a small basket, filled with more juicy red apples.

"These are great! And, even though I was the one who found them, I'll let you have some!" Grim picked up another apple from the basket, sticking his claws into the red peel and offering it with his little grin. Nevermind the fact that these were probably meant as a gift for you and not for him, but you didn't mind. They would have likely ended up in the trash anyways, at least someone could enjoy them.

"You should really have one. You haven't eaten all day."

"I'm not hungry, but thanks. You can have them." Ever since everything happened, you weren't too keen on accepting gifts, especially if they were consumable. For now, the only places you'd accept food from, was the cafeteria you'd venture too at the dead of night when no one was there, or Sam's shop.

In the spot of the basket where Grim had removed the apple, there was a white layer at the bottom of the basket. Perplexed, you reached in and found an envelope hidden by the piled apples.

Unsurprisingly, the envelope smelled of sweet things, apples, cinnamon, and freshly baked pies. The envelope itself was nothing special, it had no intricate wax seal or marking. It was loosely sealed shut by a brown piece of string, and covered in some white and pink apples blossoms.

The inside was less impressive, more authentic, which was refreshing in a way. Smooth cursive flowed into slightly choppy print scrawled out in uneven lines, before eventually returning back to cursive at the end of some sentences. It appears parts were rushed judging by the blotted ink stains at multiple periods. The apples were a clue as to who the sender may be, but why would the letter be hidden in a gift?

Dear Player,

If you're reading this, that means my letter got through.

Where do I even start? It seems right that I first say sorry. I'm sorry. It sounds like a load of bull, but I am sorry. Apologizing in all these other ways, won't make this any better, so, I thought this might help. I'm gonna be completely honest with you, no lies, no tricks, just the blunt truth. I'm not going to be showing you these pretty sides I polished to impress and to mask all the ugly. I'll tell you everything that's been going on. That's something only I have the guts to do.

The reason I hid this letter was because Vil and Rook have been checking anything I want to write to you. They want to keep up this positive front, they wanna at least pretend to be perfect enough to be near you. At least, that's what I think. Although I know we won't ever come close to that.

Instead of trying to write a real and honest letter for you, it feels like I was writing some essay for Professor Trein to grade. I'd have to write and write, and even if the grammar was right, the message wasn't. They want to make you think everything's okay, when it's not. I can only imagine what elegant crap they were spewing in their own fancy letters, while we're actually all a mess. We've been like this since Yuu broke down. I try to understand them, and in a way I do, but sometimes they freak me out. Yeah, I got my own problems trying to comprehend all this chaos, but they're different.

Is everyone else in the other dorms this extreme? This miserable and on the verge of breaking? Maybe you won't believe me, or maybe you'll realize that there's some truth to what I'm saying. Here, in Pomefiore, I can only tell you what I've seen. These days, Rook's smile seems strained, like he's about to snap, his eyes are sharp and watchful. The only time his smile is normal is when he's looking at some photo, but he won't ever let me see what it is. Vil, well, the only sign he's still alive and kicking are the packages that come in for him, new makeup and all that stuff, things he's using to craft that perfect mask. I did see him one night out in the hall, I swear there was mascara down his face but I was too put off to approach when he was like that.

Don't ever tell them I told you all this. Vil would probably skin me alive and wear me as a robe, and Rook... I don't want to think about what he would do... I'm kidding by the way, but seriously, don't ever tell them. I told you I would be honest to you, so here's my reason. I thought that maybe telling you all this would score me points with you, get you to trust me again. Even if this is a rotten way to go about it, I don't care.

I am rotten, and I won't hide it like them.

If I can't even be honest with you, then do I really deserve a second chance at all?

Scratch that. I don't deserve a second chance at all after everything that happened. What I did was downright terrible, but I'm trying my damnedest to be deserving again. And I won't stop trying, even if part of me thinks it's useless. I never cared for Yuu, the only reason I acted for them was because it was you behind them. My goal is to eventually be beside you, the real you.

Although, a basket of apples is a crummy way to go about things, but think of it like a peace offering. Just cause I can't get word to you, don't mean I give up. I'm not giving up. Ever. Everyone's going about their own roundabout ways of mending things. If you want to hear more, I'll gladly tell you. I don't think anyone else would tell you the truth of what's happening, because in a sense everyone wants to appeal to you with the best image of themselves they can possible portray. Don't believe all the hogwash they send you. If whoever sends something and seems to be stable, they're not. Not completely.

I'm awfully ashamed to admit it, but I'm not okay. Not since everything started, and not since everything went to hell when shit hit the fan. I'm not okay without you, and I got myself to blame for that.

This letter is helping. The thought of communicating with you again, even if I can't see your face or hear your voice and its reduced to words on paper, it's more than I could ask for. So, if you want me to spill the beans, just ask. If not, if there's no response, well, I'll get a bit of comfort thinking you might've read this. Besides, I have hope with each attempt I'll make. I'm not just rottenly selfish, I'm stubborn to a fault. And if I have to knock down someone else's chances to get closer, then that's fine by me.

All you gotta do is talk to me.

Until then, hoping to speak to you soon,

Epel Felmier

[winters-doll]

𝙒𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣,𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝘺𝘰𝘶 let your insecurities get the best of you but often forget. Sukuna loves you.

𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙗𝙗𝙮! 𝙗𝙪𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴|𝘴𝘧𝘸, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧/angst, reader snaps at sukuna, 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢, 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘻 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢, 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Now you’ve done it.

You thought to yourself running down the corridor of you and your husband’s mansion. The thin straps of your camisole falling off your shoulders, your matching pastel robe fluttering behind you almost like a cape. Your bare feet padding down the steps of the west staircase.

“I can smell your fear wife,” You hear his voice bellow on the east wing of the manor. “Once I get my hands on you, foolish woman of my heart.” You hide underneath a hidden staircase tentatively, to be as stealthy as possible. Crawling on the dusty never used floors you hide in the very crevice of it, holding your knees to your chest, blood pumping in your ears. You hope you can hide just for a bit longer because you know one thing for certain.

He will find you.

Whether it be by scent or energy your husband knows your body, mind, and soul. There’s no place on his planet— no, dimensional plane where he can’t find you. From saving you from your abusive family waiting for you to say the words, to plead, oh desperately plead for Lord Sukuna;

The Bloody

Evil

Malevolent

Demon

for his services in your own words of 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦, for help. And this is how you repay him? To say such grotesque words to the man who in no doubt has been more than merciful to what he truly can be.

So in gut wrenching bitter guilt you sit there, trying your hardest to calm your heart but you know what’s coming, what you deserve is just out to get you.

There’s silence on the other side of the door, can’t hear anything, not a creak in the floorboards, a curtain fluttering from the a/c not even your own breathing as you hold your breath. There’s no turning back.

“Open the door wife.” You hear your husband’s voice suddenly from outside the staircase. “This jest has gone on long enough, and only a small mortal body could fit in there.” You hear the small jab about your stature once again from him, pointedly, from this is why you were running in the first place. “Do as you are told beloved,” Sukuna almost whispered, a voice only reserved for you. Butterflies fluttering in your stomach, from dread or flattery you’re not sure, maybe both.

“Face your consequences from your actions.” You light exhale from your nose. Yep.

You’re so fucked.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

*10 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰

Fresh from the bathing session you and Sukuna just had, well more like you washing Sukunas’ back while he ran his soapy hands all over your tits with no shame. Insisting you always miss a spot and there’s another spot in between your legs and you can’t forget your squishy sides but most importantly and, in his words, “You’re salivating, bubbly ass.”

The more his familiar hands rubbed against your flesh the deeper your brow furrowed, staring off into space. Your thoughts clouded in the worst but familiar things. Have you gained weight? Do you think he’s noticed? Do you look different? How can you lose it? In your husband’s lap his half hard cocks against the crack of your ass, he lightly pinches your thighs. “Where has your mind wander off to this time, woman?” He flippantly asks, familiar with your antics. It only makes it worse. It only makes it worse for you. Your soapy palms form into fists. If you ask him, you’ll be putting emphasis on your physique, highlighting your insecurities. Plus, he notices everything and he’s so brutally honest. What if he says you have gained weight. You can feel your eyes stinging just from the thought of it. Sharp, long talons trap your chin meeting his two pairs of eyes. “What ails you?” Despite the detach tone you can hear a sense of worry in his voice and it makes you feel so guilty. You already know how Sukuna doesn’t like your whimpering and sniveling about mortal things, but you can’t help it.

Grabbing the porcelain marble, you get out of the tub your soapy flesh almost makes you gag in disgust about yourself. “I’m just gonna…yeah.” You mutter awkwardly to him. You dry your feet on the mat outside the rug quickly to leave his gaze. Quickly moving to your shared bedroom, hurriedly finding any pajamas for the night to hide from it all. Your weakness, your insecurity, your shame.

“Stop this insolence at once!” You hear your husband voice, shout out of the bedroom. You knew he wouldn’t understand. It’s not insolence to you, it’s real. You can tell from the pain that comes with it, the heartbreak, the random glances at you through the mirror seeing a monster and not his wife staring back at you and you always wonder.

Why do I look beautiful yesterday and not today? Surely, it’s the same person. Which one is real, which is the delusions, or are they all the same.

Red rimmed eyes stare at you through your dresser mirror, cheeks flushed and dried tears staining your skin. You didn’t want this not tonight. When everything was going so good. Your eyes brim with the wave of new, fresh tears. Why do you ruin everything?

Hearing a thud with heavy sloshing in the bathroom you quickly wipe your face with your robe. Taking deep breaths to calm yourself in front of him. Sukuna emerges from the bathing room, suds of soap dripping off his muscular physique. Sukuna large form approaches yours, his eyes haunting.

“Have you lost whatever sense you had left woman? What has gotten you to act with such foolishness once again?” You turn your back to his. The thunder clouded your head again. Feeling that heat bubbling in your chest. You knew he wouldn’t understand.

“Don’t you hear me talking to you, wife?” His voice almost taunts you as if you HAVE to respond to his every whim and request. You thought once you got married he wouldn’t say things about your feelings anymore, calling anything he doesn’t understand foolish.

You’re about sick of it.

Justify why things matter to you that HIM of all people with such intelligence and highbrow should understand but lacks such empathy is nothing but the worst of his qualities. Even worst of it is this is him truly being nice to his wife who he thinks is just having a hissy fit.

“Just leave me alone,” You shakily breathe. You don’t want to explain why being fat sometimes hurts your feelings. You don’t want to argue with him about his apathy and acknowledge your weak points, it’s all so much.

“Oh? Why so you can mope and whine at night hindering me from rest. Just tell me what’s the matter so we can go to bed” He rests a heavy palm on your head, attempting to soothe a child.

So, patronizing.

Jerking his hand off your head you hiss, “Leave me alone Ryomen.” You had it with him. “What has happened now? I’m just trying to find what ails my wife.” He tries to soothe you again but no more.

“YOU!” You spin around a poke your chubby index finger into his chest. “You are what ails me husband! You are so fucking perfect and eloquent all the damn time. Your body is built to perfection and here I am as some fat fucking slob and before you say anything YES! I tried dieting! YES! I’ve tried therapy and OF COURSE I try to be positive! But there are times where I fall off the wagon and I see a monster! A MONSTER! And all I want is for you to listen to me and my heart but everything is fucking foolish to your Sukuna and I’m sick of it!” You yell voice cracking and it pisses you off more. “I’m sick of the condescending remarks! Calling me foolish for having a heart when that’s what you fell in love with me for! I won’t be made fun of by my husband!” You whimpered, tying your robe storming out of your shared bedroom.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

That’s how you got here.

Sitting in front of your husband, in front of the staircase with you sitting on one of his thick power knees. Averting your eyes, for he is naked as the day he was born and feeling embarrassed of your emotional breakdown. “You have never raised your voice at me before, petal.” Your hands trembling in your lap you hung your head in shame, you can’t believe you did that. Gave him a piece of your mind and stormed off like that. You cant deny that it felt good to let out that steam you had been holding within yourself for so long. “I’m not going to run from your confrontation,” Sulunas deep voice expands from the stairwell. “I never should’ve called your feelings childish, your empathy to others is a reason why I fell for your pure soul. It is not a weakness but a strength I don’t possess.” His sharp claws grab your chin once again eyes meeting his red ones. “My childhood didn’t have the luxury of empathy and I understand that your childhood wasn’t a pursuit of happiness and equal opportunity as well.”

You look at your husband who had a thoughtful expression on his stern face. Sukunas’ broad callous hand holds your soft palms in his large one. “A large part of me is…uncertain.” His brows furrowed. “To replicate the heart you have for others…” He takes a deep breath. “People of this realm are cruel and vindictive. I only wanted to protect you,” Sukuna squeezes your palms staring into your eyes earnestly. “I haven’t been cherishing you as much as I promised, my queen. I have been so foolish.” He hangs his head in what looks like

Shame?

Your soft palms glide through his pinks locks of hair and pull. He allows his head to be pull up to stare at your teary brown eyes.

“I don’t want you to be ashamed of yourself, my husband.” You caress your palms to his sharp cheek. “I want you to understand that it hurts my feelings, it makes me feel insecure about mine. Like I should be like you.”

He huffs a scoff out of his nose. “Oh? And what exactly is that little one?”

“Well,” You sniff. “Someone who hides how they actually feel, someone who can be really mean for no reason.” You lay a hand on his solid chest, trying your hardest to keep a straight face. “Also someone who’s a stick in the mud. Rather pessimistic if I do say so myself-“ You feel sharp claws grazes the sides of your flesh. Laughter that can only be described as yours echoes of the walls of your home. Body squeamishly twisting and turning from Sukunas attack on your skin.

“So I’m a grumpy monster huh?” Sukuna pressed on, digging his nails in your flesh. You try to hold one of his hands off giggling to yourself. A large hand is on your back keeping your body balanced, still being perched on his thigh. “Do you have anything to say for yourself my love?” His deep timbre making your heart swell with love and adoration. “I-I love my grumpy husband.” You try to be sincere but it comes off as nothing but more giggles and snickers. “C’mere you little brat.” Sukuna playfully growls, picking you up in bridal style walking up the east wing stairs to your shared bedroom.

“I’ll scream it to the rooftops my love. I shall care less.” You project in a breathless voice. “I LOVE MY GRUMPY HUSBAND!” A broad callous hand clamps over your lips as you yell. But you don’t stop either. You would say it again, again, and again for him. Pressed against Sukuna chest, his head is up lifted high for you can’t see his face but if you inspect closer his ears seem to be a flush red.

Your Sukuna is blushing?

You unwrap your arms around his neck and squeeze him to your chest, squealing. “Kuna you’re so cute!” You beam up at him though he doesn’t look down. But he can feel it.

Your happy soul once again.

“This is rather silly.” Sukuna says gruffly into your hair as he makes it to the bedroom.

He gently plops you onto the bed, you bounce of the soft mattress and take off your robe. “You can loose whatever clothing you have pet, I would rather feel your soft, delicate skin tonight.” He growls lowly, crawling onto the bed on top of you. His crimson eyes flash a haunting red staring into your soul.

So pure

So sweet

Large thighs trapped your hips, he leans a heavy arm near your head as to not crush you. His other palm lays on your squishy waist, squeezing your flesh in endearment.

Feather light kisses reach your chest, fluttering to your soft neck biting into the rich skin. You can’t help but flush and wither in his grasp, heat blossoming across your skin. Sukunas’ hot, wet tongue grazes around your areola through your camisole before murmuring,

“Prepare yourself, petal.”

A/N: OMG THEYRE SO CUTE. SUKUNA THERAPY WHEN? I CAN FIX THEM OR FUCK EM ONE OR THE OTHER

[samkerrworshipper]

replaced

sam kerr x sister!reader

um i wrote a fic? sorry for the chelsea fans but i simply couldnt make this solely chelsea. glad that i could please the SK fans tho yall are patient and queens! hope you all enjoy and lmk what else you might want to see in the future 👀 love you all!

warnings: none? that i’m aware of !

There was something completely all-consuming about the thought of a tiny alien growing inside of a body. It made you uncomfortable, thinking about a tiny human with a deformed body and underdeveloped everything just existing inside of a person. To put it lightly, it freaked you out. It was possibly the best birth control for a 16-year-old seeing firsthand what it looked like when a baby kicked or hearing the sounds of first-trimester morning sickness. You’d made it very clear to your sister that yes, whilst you were willing to babysit once the deformed fetus entered the world and was slightly less deformed, you would take some responsibilities. You wanted nothing to do with it until it made its grand entrance into the world. 

That didn’t change the fact that yours, your sister’s, and your sister’s fiancé’s lives had very quickly come to revolve solely around your future niece or nephew in a very short amount of time. Normally, it wouldn’t bother you in the slightest. If anything, you were usually doing anything and everything to get Sam and Kristie to leave you alone, but there was something different about their attention completely revolving around the life that the two of them were building together. 

It hadn’t mattered truly when they’d missed your parent-teacher interviews for an anatomy scan or missed your first training with the senior Chelsea team because Kristie had woken up with such bad morning sickness that she hadn’t been able to leave the bathroom for hours, or when you’d had to walk 3 miles from school to the training grounds because your sister had been up so late trying to make Kristie comfortable enough to sleep that she’d completely forgotten that she was supposed to pick you up early on a Thursday so you didn’t miss training. 

None of it mattered individually, but altogether, it made a difference. 

It had been a big decision moving halfway across the world to live with your sister at 15. You were a good football player, you weren’t anywhere near the prodigy of your sister, but if you wanted to make strides in your career, it was the best decision to move to London to play in the academy. It didn’t make the decision any easier; you were moving in with your sister that you’d essentially not known for most of your childhood. Too wrapped up in her own career in other countries to spend any time with you. Yet the moment it had even been an option, she was ecstatic at the idea of you joining her in London, taking you under her wing, and truly welcoming you into the tight-knit family that Kristie and her had built in London. 

It was good, it was so good. You had made advancements in your football that you didn’t think were possible; school was good, and for once in your life, you felt like you were actually in a place where you were fully understood and at peace. 

It had been perfect, until Sam had torn her ACL a couple of months into your stay, and then things had gone downhill. It wasn’t anything you couldn’t deal with; in terms of the footballing aspect of your life, it was definitely tough. You didn’t have your training buddy or your person to help you settle into the club that still kind of terrified you. On the flip side, you got to spend a whole lot more one-on-one time with your sister, and her girlfriend was there to cater to all of your football needs. After the initial impacts of her surgery, life had mostly gone back to normal; sure, your sister wasn’t there physically on the pitch with you, but she was there to support you in every other way. 

Then, the idea of a baby had been mentioned. 

It wasn’t alarm bells from the beginning. At first, it had mostly seemed like an idea for the future, not near future. Of course, they wanted to start a family, and of course, you wanted that for them. It just hadn’t been made clear to you that it was a plan for the present. Until you’d been sitting on the couch on a movie night, and a gift bag had been thrust into your hands. The both of them had the goofiest smiles on their faces that you’d known that something had been up. You just hadn’t expected a positive pregnancy test to be the source of the excitement. 

Initially, not much had changed. The pregnancy was so early on that the biggest worry was an early miscarriage and making sure that the three of you didn’t let the information slip too early. 

It had been completely fine. Life had kept on moving, until the symptoms had started. 

First, it was a bit of exhaustion, then some vomiting, headaches, nausea, more vomiting, migraines, insomnia, every possible pregnancy symptom you could think of. Kristie was afflicted by every possible pregnancy symptom. 

You felt bad. Here, two of your favourite people were trying to start a family, and it was starting off as hell. 

Then the feelings of sympathy had very quickly turned into resentment and then into isolation. 

You resented the fact that you didn’t feel at home anymore. There was nothing homey about the situation you were living in. You felt like in a number of fleeting weeks you had gone from feeling on top of the world to feeling like you no longer belonged in the life that you’d so recently settled into. 

It was a rough realisation to come to that you were no longer wanted, that you were being replaced. 

It was a slow process, but it was easy to figure out when you were and weren’t wanted, and in the picture-perfect future life of your sister and her fiancé, it was clear that you weren’t. 

You were 17, you were on the cusp of being an adult, you just hadn’t expected to be thrust into your independent adulthood so early on. A shiny new baby was going to replace you, and once that happened you were going to be even more unwanted than you already felt before it was introduced to the world. 

Whilst you knew that your mood was being affected by the neglect you were suffering, it was all too easy to blame it on the exams you were going through for your last year of school, or the slight injury setbacks that were keeping you from your first minutes for the blues, or the fact that you were a teenager with fluctuating moods. You didn’t expect your slightly off interactions or slightly less happy demeanor to be a warning sign for anybody, specifically the people closest to you. Your performance on the training pitch had been as good as usual, you’d been saying all the right things, acting in all the right ways even though you actively felt like a stranger in the apartment and life you’d once felt like was home. 

You’d managed to allude to all of the people closest to you, it just hadn’t occurred to you that people on the outside would notice your slightly off behaviour. 

Lucy was one person at the club who was newer than you, even though you didn’t necessarily fit in with all the older girls due to the age disparity it was common knowledge that you were an extension of your sister, people who were friends with Sam were friends of yours. It was a little bit embarrassing that in hindsight most of the people were only friends with you as a result of your last name but it was easier to just accept it. 

Lucy was one person that wasn’t particularly close with your sister, on no means were they enemies, they just didn’t hang out with the same people. If Sam and her didn’t interact on the regular then neither did you, that was just how it worked. 

It’s why you’d been a little bit surprised when she’d asked you to be her spotting partner in the gym. A few sets in, though, it had become abundantly clear that Lucy had ulterior motives. 

“So what does a kid like you do nowadays to have a little bit of fun, uh?”

You weren’t sure if spotting for Lucy was much help at all. There was absolutely zero possibility that if she failed, you were going to be able to lift the weight that she was pressing. The ease with which she did it all was shocking and enough of a focus for you. 

“Play soccer for one of the best teams in England.”

Lucy laughs, even though all you’re doing is being honest. Between school, football, and trying to live up to the expectations of your sister, you don’t have time for ‘fun’.

“It must be hard, having so much pressure on you, so young?”

You shake your head. You don’t think of it that way. Pressure is privilege. That’s what your mom had taught you, and then your brother, and now your sister. Pressure is what had made you good enough to be where you were. 

“It’s more pressure trying to decide what to have for breakfast in the morning than coming here every day.”

Lucy finishes her set and sits up, looking at you in a way that makes you feel like you have to ask. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Her tongue pushes against the inside of her cheek, and you get the feeling that you’re going to be told something you don’t want to hear. 

“You’ve been acting differently lately, spacey, less present. I’m just wondering if there is any particular reason.”

You focus on switching the weights from Lucy’s bar to yours and lying down on the bench she’d previously occupied. 

“I don’t know what would give you that impression.”

You focus on your set, and Lucy uses it as an excuse to stare at you in the exact same way she had been all morning. 

“You look like a kicked puppy all the time. You’re less happy, less comfortable. You look like you’re on edge all the time.”

It’s a list of traits that probably suit you. You’ll admit that you’ve been less than enthusiastic in recent times, but you hadn't thought it had been extremely noticeable. Sam hadn’t noticed, not that she noticed much about you anymore. 

“Didn’t realise you were so focused on the team protege, Bronzey.”

Like Sam, you were a pro in humorous deflection, yet when you spoke it came off with an unfamiliar edge that made you uncomfortable. 

“I’m worried about one of my teammates and friends because they’re exhibiting behaviours that are unfamiliar for them and no one else seems to be noticing.”

You finish your set and focus on drinking from your water bottle and not making too much eye contact with Lucy. 

“Lot of big words coming from you, Luce.”

Lucy’s determination doesn’t fade. She looks at you the same way. 

“So it’s not football. I’m going to make an educated guess that it’s not school. You’re going to be an aunt and you’ve got a good family situation. What is it?”

You must flinch, even if you don’t feel it. You must because Lucy’s eyes light up. 

“So it’s Kerr household issues then?”

You focus on finishing your set again. You focus on the feeling of your arms pushing and relaxing, the feeling of all your muscles stretching and slackening. 

“You know you can talk to me about it. I might not have the best advice, but I won’t judge you or go and tell your sister about it or anything.”

You finish the set, and all that’s on your mind is that you have one more to go. One more and you can remove yourself from whatever this awkward conversation is and go and hide in some other corner like normal. 

“I don’t know what makes you think it’s any of your business.”

You’re three reps in, nowhere near failure, yet on the next one, Lucy takes over and pulls the bar up and onto the rack. 

Before you can have a go at her, she sits down next to you on the bench, and for whatever reason, puts an arm around your shoulder. It makes you incredibly uncomfortable, and you flinch away almost immediately, but Lucy doesn’t shy away. 

“Look, whether it’s from a teammate to another teammate, or a friend to a friend, or whatever you feel most comfortable calling it. You don’t seem like you’re doing okay. If I can tell, it’s not going to be long before other people figure it out. I don’t really know you properly, but you seem like a good kid. You also don’t seem like the kind of person who likes to be vulnerable in front of people you don’t trust. If you don’t let go of whatever has clearly been bothering you, then that’s probably the inevitable if you don’t talk to somebody about it or get it off your chest. That person by no means has to be me or anyone else here. Just think about it, okay? You’re not alone. I can’t imagine how hard it would be playing here and everyone constantly making you feel like you were in your sister’s shadow. You aren’t just your sister, though. People around here like you beyond that, and they’re here to support you beyond that. You aren’t your last name.”

You’d be a liar if you said that Lucy’s words didn’t hit you a little bit, but you didn’t let her see that. You shook her arm off you and rolled your eyes. 

“You have no fucking clue what it’s like to be me. Don’t try and make it out like you understand.”

Before she could say anything else that remotely played on your heartstrings, you walked away, dragging your drink bottle and gear off to the other side of the gym and settling into whatever exercises for your ankle strength. 

You didn’t like to admit it, but what Lucy said to you resonated with you for the rest of the day. It had you in your head, thinking about it over and over again. You were second-guessing everything, and it translated out onto the pitch. In training, you were sloppy, to the point of nearly injuring yourself due to a lack of awareness. If you were trying to prove that you were over your setbacks, then it was a clear testament to the opposite. You were evidently a shit show. It was what was expected of you. You were a teenager. You were expected to crash out, to not be able to live up to the constant expectations of being a professional every day. You were falling into the one stereotype that you spent every minute of every day trying to claw away from. Already consumed by the reality of your stupifying family situation and adding on self-doubt about your every action was a whole new mind game that you’d never truly experienced. 

There was one part about what Lucy had said that had stuck with you the most. If you didn’t get it off your chest soon, it was inevitable that you were going to let it slip in far worse ways, and that was a slippery slope you had no intention of going down. 

It wasn’t surprising that your sister wasn’t there to pick you up after training had finished. There was a slew of excuses that trumped you. You were used to being forgotten. As the reality of new life being brought into the Kerr household became more real, it only felt like you were fading further. 

You didn’t want to go home, not to a place where you actively felt like an impostor. You didn’t have many people to lean on, though. As much as Lucy tried to make it out like you were an individual person at Chelsea, you weren’t. You were Sam Kerr’s younger sister, the baby of the family, the nepotism sister, riding on your sister’s success and reaping whatever benefits came from it. You were a complete result of your sister, stuck in a never-ending cycle of following her footsteps. 

In Australia, you’d had individuality, your parents’ sole focus. Your football wasn’t as good, but you hadn’t questioned your existence or how you fitted into spaces. Yet in England, or with your sister, you had to second-guess everything, were forced to feel like you didn’t belong anywhere. 

You didn’t want to go home. 

There weren’t a lot of people in London you could call. A couple of months ago, Kristie was your go-to person for when your sister was tied up with her stuff, but with the baby on the way, Kristie’s sole focus had been shifted. You didn’t matter in comparison. Sam’s friends were like family, but they weren’t your family; they were people that had to like you because you lived with Sam and were with her all the time. You hadn’t made many friends at Chelsea; it didn’t seem important in retrospect. It left you with a handful of people. You could always call your mum or someone else in the family, but it seemed pointless in that there would be no outcome. So you called the only person that was really left. 

It had been a long shot; St Albans wasn’t exactly in close proximity to Cobham, but you felt like you were at a crossroads. 

You’d had to wait outside in the cold for a while, but it wasn’t awfully long until Caitlin pulled up in front of the training grounds. Before you could second-guess your decision-making, you got into her car, buckling your seatbelt before looking at her. 

“Just drive, I’ll exp   n later.”

Caitlin got the message and pulled her car into drive before heading back onto the highway. 

“Where we going? Yours? Mine? An airport?”

It was hard not to laugh at the predicament. 

“Just yours.”

The rest of the car ride was silent; it was good, it was hard for you to slot every feeling into place, but it was good to think about it all. You felt like a whirlwind of feelings, a big spiral of never-ending emotions that were completely nonsensical. 

By the time you get to Caitlin’s house, not much was making any more sense, but you felt less panicked. You walked from the car into her house in the same silence that had stretched between the two of you the whole car trip. In through the front door, into the kitchen, and sat down at the island when Caitlin pointed at one of the seats. You felt like you were cemented to the seat, all of the weight of the day, or really the last few weeks, was weighing you down like there were rocks stuffed in your pockets. You felt heavy, filled with all of the uncertainties. 

Caitlin pushed a glass of water towards you, and you took it gratefully. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

You’d been around Caitlin practically since birth. As a kid growing up, you hadn’t wanted to be around your sister; it had always been her best friend that had lit up your face. She was your sister’s best friend, but in every way, she was a sister to you; you’d spent every moment of your childhood following the two around and every waking moment with them when they were around. 

“I can’t just spend an afternoon with my favourite auntie?”

Caitlin rolled her eyes, reaching over the table to ruffle your hair. 

“Of course, you can, dickhead, but that doesn’t mean that you are. Something’s up, and if you called me, then that means you want to talk about it because it has something to do with Sam.”

Were you really that easy to read? First, Lucy, and now Caitlin. You were beginning to doubt your abilities to keep all of your cards to your chest. 

“That’s some creepy shit; you should become some mindreader.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes at you. 

“Tell me about it; I can’t do anything in this house without her sniffing it out.”

You turned your head to see Katie standing in the doorway of the kitchen, smiling at you, but mostly at Caitlin. 

“Ya didn’t tell me mini kerr was coming over.”

You tried to stop the way your face flinched at the sound of your last name. You didn’t know why in recent times it had begun to bother you so much. It was just so synonymous with your sister. Every time you heard it or saw it on your jersey, it was a clear sign of the one thing you were becoming most afraid of. You weren’t living up to it or living the life of it. 

“Just wanted to spend some time with my favourite derby losers.”

Katie’s reaction is visceral. Her face moves into something of pure disgust. 

“That kind of slander is just not acceptable in this house. You want to embrace your Chel-shit culture? Keep it away from our house. We’re going to have to sage the bad vibes away now. Do a full cleanse.”

At a point in your life, you’d never felt less Chelsea than you did right now. The thought of the club put you on the brink of dissociation. 

“Katie, can you please go get some pasta? We’re all out, and I’m making bolognese for dinner.”

It was a cue. You were sure of it because as soon as the words left Caitlin’s mouth, Katie was nodding dutifully and off and out of sight. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s up or keep dodging around it?”

With your lip between your teeth and so much uncertainty, you nodded. There wasn’t much point in keeping it all in when you’d come here with the inadvertent intention to offload some of it. 

“Sam doesn’t want anything to do with me. When I got here, it was hard. We made it work, and she tried to make me fit in with her life as it was, but it never quite felt right. But with the baby now, there’s no pretending. I’m not a part of her life, and she doesn’t want to pretend that I am anymore. And I’m sick of waiting in the background, hoping she’ll get her shit together and remember that I’m part of her life. She doesn’t care about me, and I can’t handle it anymore.”

Caitlin’s expressions are schooled. They are most of the time, but she doesn’t give anything at all away. 

“Your sister loves you a lot. I’m not invalidating what you’re feeling. I am sure that you’re right. She loves you though. Before you came here, all she ever talked about was wanting to spend more time with you, going back to see you, Facetiming you.”

You shake your head. You didn’t come here to be told that you’re loved. You came here to feel a little bit less chained down. 

“No, she doesn’t, or she doesn’t show it remotely. She doesn’t pick me up from school. She forgets me or stopped caring because she’s busy looking after Kristie or busy being worried about the baby, stressing about the baby. It’s all they talk about. It’s all they care about. It’s the shiny new toy, and I’m the old one at the back of the wardrobe that’s all broken and disgusting. I’m the last option. I’m the last option at Chelsea, the last option at home, the last option for everybody, and I can’t physically handle it. I’m done constantly being left on the fucking sidelines of life whilst everybody else plays.”

Caitlin nods. She listens. It’s what you need. You just need to feel listened to. 

“Your sister should be focusing more on you. She doesn’t realise that you didn’t move for independence like she did. When we moved for football for the first time, it was because we finally wanted independence. We wanted freedom. We wanted to feel like adults. You want to feel supported, want to feel like you’re a part of a family. You’re feeling that whilst your sister is simultaneously beginning to start her own family, and that’s scary. I would be scared by that if I were you. You’re seeing the cementation of new roots, and in your eyes, you don’t fit into the foundation that they’re building. There’s one thing that hasn’t changed about your sister since we were 18, and that is the fact that she’s a little bit unobservant. She doesn’t do small feelings. She does the big ones. She doesn’t understand the anxieties that you’re experiencing because she doesn’t experience them. Also, whether you want to admit it or not, I think you might be a little bit jealous of this baby. You didn’t get to spend your childhood with your sister. That was stripped from you when she moved away. This baby gets all the attention and all the love and doesn’t get left behind, and that’s tough.”

You are a little dumbstruck for words. It’s been hard to pinpoint all of your feelings, and yet Caitlin has just laid them all out in front of you.

“I’m not jealous of the fetus.”

Caitlin snorts, a proper snort that has you in fits of giggles. 

“Not even a little bit?” 

You shake your head defiantly. It’s easier to deny than admit it. 

“Because think about it. This time you’re like the older sister. That kid won’t want to be spending time with Kristie and Sam. It’ll be fawning over you from day one. Babies take a village. I know you feel on the outs right now, but when that baby comes, it’ll change.”

It’s easy to say that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but in your opinion, there really isn’t. You can’t see any future where you feel any less of a misfit. 

“It’s not just Sam though. It’s everywhere. I don’t have friends, not at Chelsea. I’m my sister’s shadow, I always have been, but since the move, it’s been worse. I can’t make friends at school. I’m there purely to go to class, and I miss half of them anyways. Everyone at Chelsea sees me as my sister. I’m just an extension of her. Everything I do that is any good is because of her. Nobody can see past it.”

Caitlin didn’t have a quick answer for you. Your eyes burned with angry, hot tears. They were yet to spill, but they were on the brink, and it was impossible to ignore. 

“I can’t get away from my sister’s shadow, and it would be fine if I felt like I was a byproduct of her, if she spent every waking moment helping me be that way. But she hasn’t. It’s all been me. It’s been my hard work, my own push. Sure, she’s helped me into environments that have made me better, but it’s been my hard work. She hasn’t done shit, and yet all anybody says is that I’m good because of her, that I’m just a result of my sister’s influence. I’ll always be a shadow of her to everyone, even her.”

It’s a cathartic feeling. The tears slip down your face. You push and scratch at your cheeks, trying to remove the evidence, but it’s obvious. It’s ugly. It’s everything that’s been building. 

Caitlin doesn’t say anything. She just walks around the counter and gives you a big hug. 

“You are a lot more than your sister, and if people don’t recognise that, then you should be getting away from that, taking a break. You deserve to feel like your own person because you are.”

You don’t have anything left to say. You’ve laid it all out, and it feels good, but there isn’t any change. Venting is good, but when you’re going to go back to it all, it doesn’t truly matter. You’re stuck in the prison of your life, and there is no escaping. 

“I’m sure you’re exhausted. How about you go and take a nap before dinner? Refresh and let your mind rest, and we can regroup, okay? I promise you we can find a solution to some of this.”

You nod; you are feeling tired. It’s been hard to sleep at the apartment with Kristie constantly getting up during the night to hurl her guts. 

Caitlin’s guest room is warm, it’s nice, it’s virtually the same as your room at home, and yet it feels so much more welcoming. It doesn’t take you long to drift off. 

When you wake up, it’s very clear that quite a few hours have passed. Not only is it completely black, but the sleep in your eyes and fogginess in your head is enough of an indicator that what was going to be a quick nap had turned into something a lot longer. The edges of your vision are hazy and blurred as you blink your way back into consciousness. You don’t want to get up, not at all. It would be so much easier to just stay where you are, forever. Just stay lying in bed and warm and cozy, comfortable. You didn’t get to where you were today, though, by allowing yourself to be comfortable. 

So begrudgingly, you pulled yourself out of the bed, still dressed head to toe in a Chelsea tracksuit and hoodie. It really did feel illegal amongst all of the Arsenal memorabilia in every corner, and on every wall of the house, it only made you feel like more of a dichotomy. 

Your stomach began to rumble as you walked down the stairs to the kitchen. You were sure that you must have missed dinner but hoped that maybe something had been left aside to tide you over. 

You could hear murmurs coming from the kitchen, and in your state of half-awakeness, you’d put it down as being Caitlin and Katie. 

You were off guard, and that’s why you’d been more shocked than you thought possible when you walked into the kitchen and your sister was seated in the exact same place you’d been sat a couple of hours ago. Immediately, both Caitlin and your sister’s eyes were on you, them both seeming just as surprised as you. 

You were ready to bolt, but Caitlin’s voice stopped you.

“Your sister came to talk to you. She was worried when you weren’t home tonight for dinner.”

You roll your eyes, if you’d moved out a month ago Sam wouldn’t have noticed. 

“We haven’t had dinner together in months, don’t lie to my face. You called her, you fucking called her, I trsuted you with something and you called her.”

Sam looked like she was going to butt in but Caitlin stopped her. 

“Okay, yes I called her. Because I was worried but also mad and I wanted to fix that. I’m going to leave you two to sort this out.”

Caitlin started to walk towards you and out of the kitchen, you couldn’t help but clutch for her hand as she walked away. 

“It’s going to be fine. Trust me and listen to what she says and tell her how you feel. She came here to fix things, or start to fix things.”

Caitlin closes the kitchen door leaving just you and your sister alone with each other. 

“Just because we don’t have dinner together doesn’t mean I don’t notice when you’re done. Mum would kill me if I wasn’t keeping an eye on you and let her baby sneak out.”

It was the connotation of it all, Sam didn’t care, she was doing all of this for your mum. 

“I’m so sorry mum decided to burden you with my presence.”

Your sister exhales, like she’s trying to keep control, because she feels she has to. 

“That’s not what I meant. You matter just as much to me as you do to mum.”

Rich. Really rich coming from her. 

“Oh yeah, so that’s why mum calls me everyday to ask me about my day and how I’m doing and you just exist beside me. When was the last time you talked to me about anything besides football or the baby or Kristie? When was the last time you did anything with me that wasn’t related to football. When was the last time you asked me anything about my life or even acted like you cared?”

Sam exhales again, and breathes in like she’s trying to suck in every bit of oxygen in the room. 

“It’s not like that.”

You didn’t want to be angry about all of this, sad, disheartened, depressed. You could deal with that, but anger was so much harder. 

“Oh tell me how it is then. I know you didn’t ask to be looking after your teenage sister fulltime but you could at least pretend like my presence isn’t a complete burden to you. I fucking idolised you my whole childhood, when we had dress up days at school I would always dress up as you. I’ve always wanted to be you, and I was fine with everybody putting me into the box of Sam Kerr’s sister, I didn’t care, if anything it was the best feeling in the world. I didn’t care about being your shadow when you were my favourite person. But now that I’m here you’ve wrecked it all. You don’t have to tell me that I don’t fit into your picture perfect life, I’m well aware. I just didn’t expect you to treat me like fucking shit. I’m sick of it, I want to go home, I’d rather jeopardise my football career by going back then deal with anymore of this.”

Sam looks like she’s about to start crying and it feels good, you want her to feel what you are feeling, you want her to feel an inch of what you’ve been feeling for the past months. 

“You aren’t a burden to me. Not at all.”

You scoff, you aren’t a burden but she just opts to forget your existence, makes a lot of sense. 

“Okay so am I a ghost then? Do I have the ability to turn invisible and nobody has told me about it because you sure fucking act like I’m not here 95% of the time.”

Your sister stands up and starts to walk towards you and you immediately move. You don’t want touch or hugs or whatever she’s going to offer. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. I’m really sorry.”

You really don’t know what to say to that. It’s a step forward but it doesn’t do anything, saying sorry is good and well but it doesn’t change an action. 

“I thought you came here for independence. God mum made it out like you were going to blow perth up if she didn’t get you out soon enough. I’ve wanted to be close to you since you were born, you were the light in all of our lives. Then you were here and I underestimated what it was going to be like but it was awesome and just having you in the house made it all so much better. Kristie and I had always wanted kids but having you around just made it seem like it would be the right fit, you have made our lives so much better. So, we started the process and it was all I could think about. I was your age when mum had you, I got to see you take your first steps and grow your first tooth and I thought it would be good for you to have the same experience. I just didn’t get how much time it would take up and how consumed with it I would get. You don’t deserve to feel this way, you don’t deserve to not feel cared for. I love you more than anybody else, I would put down anything for you, without a question. I haven’t made it seem that way recently but it’s true. You’re my priority, you always have been and you always will be. I don’t want you to go back home, having you here has been the best thing that has ever happened. I don’t know how i;m going to fix this but I’m going to. I’ll maker the changes, I’ll talk to Kristie, I’ll spend more time with you like I did before.”

So many feelings, so little words. 

“You don’t get me. I don’t want you to give up time, Kristie is the love of your life, this baby is going to be your kid. Your kid, not your sister, your kid. I don’t want you to detest me because I take away moments from your life.”

Sam shakes her head. 

“You are just as big a part of my life as anything else is. You fit into it all, if I haven’t amde you feel that way that is completely my fault.”

It’s nice to hear her say that, it’s nice to feel accepted even if it’s just for a second. 

“It’s not just that. I am literally your shadow. I don’t have any friends at Chelsea, everyone thinks I’m good because of you. Kerr is plastered everywhere and I’m just synonymous with all of your achievements. I don’t get to be me, the only difference is the different first name letter on our jerseys. I’m a good football player, because of me, not because of you. I’m sick of everyone telling me that I have a good right foot because my sister is Sam Kerr, or that I must have gotten my good defending skills from practicing with you. Everything has to be because of you, and I can’t handle it. I don’t have any friends that aren’t yours, my life is a by product of yours and I’m done with it being that way.”

This time when Sam takes a step towards you, you don’t immediately step away. Her presence doesn’t bother you, it’s the look on her face. 

“Okay, we can fix that. You want to quit? Move clubs? Go on Loan? I can talk to everyone at the club and make changes. Wew can change jerseys, you can have your first name and not last name. You should spend some extra time with the younger girls, stop feeling restricted by what I do and don’t do and just live your life. I’ll tell everuone how much of a fuckup I am and how you are skilled because of you. Whatever you want, I am here to support it. I haven’t done that enough recently and it needs to change, I want to make you my complete priority. No more forgetting you because I’m being selfish and only thinking about myself. My asshat behaviour ends now, I promise. What do you want, I will try my hardest to help you get it. I can call our agent right now and you can be playing in a different country.”

You shake your head, a small smile working it’s way to the corners of your mouth at your sisters franticness. 

“I don’t know, I have no fucking clue what I want. I just want you to know, I want help, I want to not feel like shit everyday just because of who I am.”

Sam nods, and reaches out for you. The hug is easy, it’s cathartic, you feel so much pressure releasing from your body as her arms tighten around you. 

“Okay, I can do that. We can do that. You and me yeah, you and me against the world.”

It’s not even close to fixed, your life hasn’t changed. But the overall weight, the soul crushing pressure of it all fades. You don’t trust, you don’t trust her to make changes. She hasn’t earnt that trust but you hope, you fucking hope that maybe something is going to happen. 

[girl-lostconnection]

Continuation that I promised to come back with as a response to this ask

The Lad

Simon doesn’t think much before choosing military. He’s never been much for academics and military at least guarantees some stable income.

Yeah, at the expense of his health and possibly life but well, at least he gets to make something out of himself. (At least he gets away from home and dad and heavy Manchest skies)

Simon can’t stand the thought of you “settling” for him.

Because you are bloody brilliant, you are soft and beautiful and strong. And impossibly, you love him.

You haven’t said it yet, you are keeping it close to your heart but you don’t need to — it’s something even he can see.

Simon wants to be something worthy of that love.

He wasn’t sure what he expected when he announced that he’s going away to serve in military but it definitely wasn’t this panicked look in your eyes and trembling hands because hey…hey hey hey, it’s okay, love, it’s not permanent, yeah? He will come back to you, of course he will, sweetheart, do you think he’d just leave the best thing ever happened to him?

Darling, you are everything and he’s just a kid from a broken home and broken family and he wants to be something. He wants to feel that he actually deserves all that love and care.

He wants to know that he is something to be proud of, that you won’t be wasting away with someone like him.

Your future is bright even if you don’t get into fancy university or college, but Simon is bottom of the barrel in the grander scheme of things.

He wants to work for his place by your side.

He wants to come back and know that he deserves be with you, that he deserves to ask for you to stay with him. Forever and always.

But it all can wait because for now he wraps himself around you — tall and lanky, sharp angles softening around you, short tight kisses to the crown of your head.

He’s gonna come back, love, he promises.

Simon holds you tight and ignores the way his own eyes sting because god, the time would crawl while he’s away from you. Because he never wants to spend another day without you but he knows that if he doesn’t do something to prove to himself and everyone else that he can make something of himself…he will regret it for the rest of his life.

So he rasps out “write to me, will ya, luv?”, thumbs swiping away your tears, backpack slinged over his shoulder, your scarf wrapped around his neck.

And he’s so scared, he’s so fucking scared because it will take him at least few years before he can come back. And what if you meet someone else? What if someone who’s already worthy of your softness comes by when he’s out there bleeding and clawing his way up?

What if he comes back changed and you won’t want him anymore?

What if-what if-what if-what if.

But you kiss him before he goes and it’s salty from tears, it’s desperate and it’s so hungry he remembers that even if you didn’t have anyone you two always had each other. Nothing would change it.

All he can do is jump off the cliff and hope that his wings appear on the way down.

You are both crying when he finally gets on the bloody bus, eyes red-rimmed and noses sniffling but you pepper his wet face with kisses, hiss that he has to come back, that you will kill him if he won’t.

And Simon can’t help but laugh — sound wet and gurlgy from the mucus and all the water but he’s smiling again, eyes impossibly soft because god, you truly are something, aren’t you, love?

“You are magic, luv. Never forget tha’. Never forget me, olright? I’ll come back”, he sounds almost reverent, voice thick with devotion and something else, hands holding your face like the most precious thing in the world.

He’ll come back. Just wait for him, okay?

Goodbye, love.

And goodnight.

[stickyspeckledlight]

“Sunday, I’m thinking of leaving Penacony. Of course I’ll be back one day! It’s just… both you and Robin have become so incredible, and it seems I’m the only one who hasn’t changed… I want to do more too, it doesn’t seem fair that I’m always relying on you.”

Doves are happier in cages. If not, then merely make it a matter of time.

(Speckled's End of Year Interaction Prompts, 12/2/24 ~ 1/1/25)

Unlike you, trembling despite the courage you built up, Sunday remains poised and perfect, perched on the couch across the coffee table. Legs crossed, hands folded, smiling patiently and caringly before a spread of tea and snacks: it's an insignificant image, one that will last for barely a moment, but emblematic of everything you aren't.

When you sit, it is nothing more than a mere imitation of Sunday's. Your forms may match, but your demeanor? What is there to even say about your pitiful demeanor, timid, shy thing you are? Your heart always hammers with fearful anticipation that you will do something wrong; what exactly that is doesn't matter, only that you sense and fear its inevitability. Your hands clam and fidget, despite your best efforts. In fact, aside from attempting to imitate Sunday, you got gloves so you wouldn't be able to sand your nails down. Your legs clutch together tightly, afraid that if you stop tensing for even a moment, a knife will be lodged in your back. Afraid that whoever sits in front of you will find fault in you, so execute a plan because surely, surely they will outwit you no matter your efforts.

Although you've greatly improved from when you first met Sunday---you were barely able to even handle playing with other children for more than a few moments---you still aren't where you want to be. You still aren't sure if you'll be able to reach that point, at this rate.

Sunday and Robin are wonderful, wonderful people. You love them wholeheartedly, for staying by your side for so long. For being your crutch when times got hard, when people got to be...too much.

But you aren't a child anymore. You're an adult. If anything, it's a bit pathetic how little you've changed from that child, especially considering you're the siblings seniors by a decent few years. You're supposed to be the one nurturing them---not the other way around.

You're truly thankful for everything that they've done for you---but it's time for you to spread your wings, and learn and grow on your own. It's time to grasp independence and become the crutch for these two whom you are so indebted to.

And that means leaving Penacony.

You're still nervous, and hell, you still kind of want to cancel everything, but you knew that you'd have these feelings, so you've made sure to bury yourself in too deep to leave the situation you've created for yourself. You've applied for a job permit to work on the Xianzhou Luofu; and you're starting in a week or two and, for all intents and purposes, completely locked into living there for a good number of years. You've made the deposits, filled the paperwork---even if you wanted to, there is no backing out. If you remain perched here, all that will accomplish is disappointment filling your heart at how you got so far, yet at the end tapped out. You refuse to do that to yourself---for your sake.

And surely, Sunday will understand.

But he doesn't respond in the way you were anticipating---or, maybe, in the way you were hoping.

Kind, wonderful person he is, Sunday frowns apologetically, expression a perfect embodiment of regret, "How long have you felt that way? That you're a burden on me and my sister."

You bite your cheek, unsure of how to respond, but you decide that, if you're already this far in telling a truth you've hidden from him for so long, that you'll keep telling the truth. You've known him for so long, so it's not truly a big deal that you're here, doing this. "A...a long, long time. I guess they call it a guilt complex? It's just that---that," you temper yourself, reducing the heaving breath you wish to take into a somewhat measured inhale, "I don't want to live like this anymore. You and Robin have always had my back, and...I want to start doing that too. I want you two to know I'll have you back in the way you've had mine."

"Dear," Sunday so sweetly says, "you do have our backs. Neither of us have ever doubted that."

"How though?" you struggle, "I'm just...I can still barely talk to people, and I've never even been that smart. I can't even clean right!"

"And?" Sunday raises an eyebrow---going from apologetic to assertive. Not a cruel assertiveness---a kind one, meant to comfort you, meant to make you feel better about yourself, "There is no price for love. It is given, and me and Robin have never expected anything from you---never will. There is no need for repayment, when there was never any transaction being made in the first place. You can stay here, in Penacony."

You suck in a sharp breath. "No. I'm not. I---I don't care whether you think this is repayment for not, Sunday," your heart hammers, threatening to crush your ribs to dust, but you'll take it---you'll take it over another day spent here, feeling useless and hating yourself for the guilt of inaction, "If not for you, then this is for me. I can't live like this anymore, Sunday. I don't want to. I know you two care for me! And I care for you too." You swallow, "You said love has no price, right? Well, this is something I want to do because I love you both. Let me love you two as someone who's grown---" you shakily smile, "---as someone who can hold a decent conversation for long than fifteen minutes, at least," you joke, hoping that it will lighten the mood just a little.

There is no shift in Sunday's demeanor. "What of your methods? What will you do when you leave Penacony?"

"I got a work permit and everything set up at the Luofu," you answer, "I've already applied for a job even, and I start soon."

Sunday frowns, "But why do all that on your own? Need I remind you of how easily overwhelmed you are?" He smiles sympathetically, "You have made great strides with yourself, [Name], and there is nothing I have but admiration for you: for taking this step forward, and for seeking betterment with yourself. But you need to be honest with yourself, [Name]: this is no step, but a leap right into a mawing chasm." Those words merely vocalize your own fears, and make you falter just ever so slightly, "That's the point. And besides, I...I think I trust myself, that I'll be able to rise to whatever troubles that meet me on the Luofu?"

He eyes you with a near incredulous emotion, "Earlier today, you excused yourself from the desk an hour into your shift, and spent three in the bathroom, did you not?"

"W-well---"

"Yesterday, you burned yourself cooking an egg. You added too much oil, and if not for the servant's quick action, you would've poured water on that flaming pan instead of covering it with a lid and removing it from heat," he bluntly informs, "The day before that, you mixed up the appointment times of a high ranking official and the janitor. If not for my own intervention, Old Oti would've been knocking right on our doors, and there would be a great delay in the implementation of the economic policies set to be ready by the end of the year. Policies which, many other policies that are being implementation are designed around."

"I, I---"

"[Name]. Do you truly think you can do this?" Sunday firmly asks, not kind, not cruel, but painfully honest, "Do you think you can manage living on your own, when you're hardly able to operate with what meager tasks I've assigned you?"

It's a bit pathetic, but being faced with the brunt of your inadequacies and incompetence makes your eyes tear up. It makes what confidence you were able to muster crumble. It makes you want to sob and apologize for not being enough---again.

Sunday grasps your hand, pulling you from the edge of a vortex, "I admire your desire to be better today than you were yesterday. But let's have you take baby steps," he softly whispers, drawing himself closer to you---practically kneeling before you, "Stay here, on Penacony. Where I'll always be here, having your back. Where you and I can spend the most time together---love each other."

Your will cracks, and you feel it shatter when he brings his forehead to yours, and beckons you to close your eyes. It's something you've done with each other ever since you were children.

"You might think you are not enough," he whispers, breath warmly feathering against your nose. It smells like tea and strawberry cake. "And you are flawed. So, so, so deeply flawed, like anyone else." You feel a knife twist into your heart at the truth he gives, and pathetically, your mouth wobbles. He shushes you, caressing your cheek in comfort. "Me and Robin love you despite that. We always will. If we didn't, we wouldn't have stuck by you for as long and unceasingly as we have."

You feel so, so sorry for doubting them. So sorry for how you're so incompetent that you were ready to jump into a gaping maw---hell, you probably hurt Sunday too with that, by making him think he wasn't enough---that him and Robin combined weren't, and that realization twists so deeply into your that tears finally fall from your eyes. "I'm sorry," your voice cracks, and highly pitched with sorrow, "I'm so sorry, Sunday." And once you start, you can barely stop your chest from heaving, "I'm sorry, Aeons I'm sorry---"

Sunday immediately puts your head into the crook of his neck; and you only sob harder, knowing how much effort he puts into his appearance, yet so readily letting you ruin it in an instant if it meant comforting you out of the love in his heart. "Shhhh, don't be, dear. Never be."

A tender kiss presses to your temple, "All you have to do, dove, is live with us. With me."

And as his hand rubs soothing circles against your back, you feel a door shut---feel your back ache, even where there were never really wings in the first place---and lock you into a cage you never had any chance of escaping.

[chibinasuu2]

One of my favorite ZoSan lore has got to be how their rivalry actually only started in Little Garden.

It wasn't "hate-at-first-sight" for them – believe it or not, Zoro and Sanji were quite amicable when they first met!

Exhibit A: them chilling together at the party post-Arlong Park

Exhibit B: Zoro giving Sanji an "order" at Loguetown and he just said "Got it!!" without a single name-calling or complaint?? Unheard of nowadays.

They had some other civil conversations around that time as well – no bickering in sight!

[spoilers for Little Garden below the cut]

This. This page right here is where everything started.

Ever since that first "contest", they became the ever-bickering, always-head-to-head Zoro and Sanji that we all know and love.

Their rivalry has become such a staple in all of their interactions – a force of habit, a routine, the status quo – and it has been going on for sooo long that I doubt Zoro and Sanji themselves even remember what started it anymore...

Just like another pair of rivals we know (whose 100-year rivalry also started with an argument over who caught the bigger prey).

This obvious Zoro/Sanji–Dorry/Brogy parallel has always been so interesting to me, especially since Dorry and Brogy were very explicitly presented as equals.

Those two giants had had a whopping 73,466 battles by the time the Straw Hats reached Little Garden, and not a single instance had one ever won over the other.

They were equal in strength, and even prior to their feud, they were in equal positions as co-captains of the Giant Warrior Pirates.

This is exactly the dynamic that Oda assigned Zoro and Sanji, presenting them in equal positions as the Wings of the Future Pirate King (probably also why Oda never explicitly stated that Zoro is First Mate)

Zoro and Sanji are also clearly very strong in their own rights, each with their unique abilities and skillsets. I truly believe a full-power battle between them would end up exactly like Dorry and Brogy's: a never-ending duel between two equally matched fighters.

TL;DR – I don't care what powerscalers say, Zoro and Sanji are equals in every sense of the word, period.

[spoilers for Wano and end of Egghead below]

Also, now that Dorry and Brogy are back in the picture, I really hope that Oda would circle around to this rivalry parallel in Elbaf.

I think it would be interesting to see further development in Zoro and Sanji's dynamics that goes beyond "rivals-that-actually-really-care-for-each-other-but-their-egos-are-too-big-to-show-it".

The Death Pact in Wano gave us probably the deepest glimpse so far into the nature of their relationship, showing us, clear as day, the incredible bond between them and just how far their trust for each other goes.

I mean, Dorry and Brogy ended up reconciling at the end of Little Garden and became best buddies again after fighting for one hundred years, so who knows what Oda has planned for ZoSan? I, for one, am really excited to see what he has in store for them in the Final Saga.

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | three.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 4.8k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, general bioengineering project descriptions/terms, very vague mention of mice research work, mentions of a lil cut (nothing graphic), a lil more oc x san!!, oc x san being subtle with their actions - they're def feeling each other/checking each other out tho lol, suave sexy san!!, jongho is onto him oop 🤨, it builds up from here i prawwwmise!

When Sunwoo said he needed help, he truly meant it. A few weeks into the new quarter, you find yourself hustling in the lab in between your class schedule. You do enjoy it though, and you find that you still have time to carve out for your friends and nights out. But, you do feel your workload slowly increasing just because Sunwoo is trying to make significant progress with his project— a project that you hope to build off if you were to fully join Professor Choi's lab. A project that would hopefully get your name on another published paper, too. And, you weren't gonna lie, you wanted to do your best and work extra hard because you needed Professor Choi to see that you fit perfectly in his lab. You needed to show him that this wasn't any ordinary research work to you and that you weren't just winging your time here, especially after he gave you that friendly but stern pep talk during your kick-off meeting with him, Belle and Sunwoo.

—FLASHBACK

"Hey." Professor Choi says while sitting in his chair. The three of you walk in, with Sunwoo plopping himself down on his couch, and you and Belle sitting at the two seats in front of his desk. "How's everyone doing?" He asks while typing away, huge Mac screen taking up the corner of his desk with his laptop connected on a laptop stand.

"Good!" You all say in your own ways.

"How about you, Professor Choi?" Sunwoo leans back onto the couch.

"Mm." He hums. "Good as can be, I guess. Can't complain." He chuckles, now fully shifting his attention to you three. "So! How'd the talk go?"

"Well, I think Y/N would work well with my project. There's so many avenues she could piggyback off of if she joins the lab afterwards that'll help contribute to a lot of the dynamic foraging, brain-wide neural dynamics work we've been doing." You watch as Professor Choi nods in agreement, now looking at you and Belle.

"She could also help with the lab-wide project I've been heading and some other 2-photon and KCR work." 

"Sounds good with me. What about you, Y/N?" He leans onto his desk, eyes glued on you while his hands are clasped together. You lick your lips and nod, nervous that all the attention is on you especially from Professor Choi. You feel like he's burning holes into you, and you can't help but feel incredibly intimidated. 

"Yeah, that sounds awesome. I'm on board with Sunwoo and Belle's plans. I'm excited to dive in." He smiles at you.

"Cool. I think we'll get some great work done during your rotation." He turns to Sunwoo. "Sunwoo, can I trust you to take care of Y/N's badge access and getting her set up with everything she needs?"

"For sure!"

"Thanks." Professor Choi stands. "And just cause I have to lay this out there, there are some expectations I hold for the people in my lab— regardless if you're a rotation student, postdoc, undergrad, staff. It doesn't matter. I expect the highest performance out of everybody, and I want my people to succeed no matter how long it takes. I expect my people to do nothing but the best and I need that to show in everything you do. Presentations. Data. Papers. Everything. I don't want anyone to settle for less than that, and you have my support every step of the way."

"Of course, noted."

"We have lab meetings every Monday at 9am up on the third floor of the south wing. I'll get you on the schedule so you can do your rotation update towards the end of the quarter."

"Journal club!" Sunwoo says, making Professor Choi laugh. "One of us!"

"Yeah, we'll get you to do a journal club presentation too." He tucks his hands in his pockets.

"Professor Choi gets us free hot breakfast for lab meetings." Belle puts her hand on your arm as you all stand and start to get ready to leave. "It's so good." You giggle.

"So, all good? We're all onboard?" You three turn to Professor Choi and nod. "Nice. Welcome to the lab, Y/N." He flashes you a smile that only you catch, a look that only you see. Like it was meant to be that way.

Your time in Professor Choi's lab will be an interesting one.

—END

"Hey." You pull out a seat and plop onto the chair, sipping on the drink you just ordered.

"Hey pretty!" Eunchae giggles, while Felix, Jiung and Jurin wave.

"Where have you been?" Felix asks, poking at your bicep.

"Shuffling between class and lab." You let out a breath, bottom lip poking out into a pout.

"She's rotating in Professor Choi's lab." Jiung looks at Jurin.

"San?" You nod. "Damn, goodluck!" Jurin chimes in and you shake your head. "He's a hottie."

"Here we go." Felix snorts.

"I mean, are we wrong?" She looks at him and playfully nudges his side, causing him to groan in response. 

"I never said you were wrong!" Eunchae giggles at his pained response. "That's just the hot topic on campus. Him and his friends."

"So hot. They deserve to be the talk on campus." Eunchae rests her chin on the palm of her hand. "How has it been in his lab?"

"It's been good! Just really fucking busy. Sunwoo is like.. at the peak of his project. He'll probably try to submit his paper within the year or something if all goes well."

"Fun times." Jiung looks at you while sipping on his smoothie. "You going back to lab after?"

"Yup!"

"I gotta head back, too." Felix says. 

"Same. I gotta run my gels." Eunchae adds.

"What about you?"

"Not today." Jiung responds. "I have a paper I need to start already for one of my classes. I've just been trying to troubleshoot some of the lasers in the lab for the other Professor Choi so I'm not entirely busy yet." You nod, checking your apple watch to peep the time. "Are you guys gonna be able to catch dinner later?"

"I should be."

"Yeah, same."

"Mm. I dunno." You tilt your head. "You can probably go without me and I'll catch up if I can."

"Sheesh, really putting you to work already."

"Yup." You sigh, finishing up your drink and your snack box full of cheese, grapes and crackers. "Anyway, I gotta get going. I told Sunwoo I'd try and fix our behavior rig today so we can start utilizing it soon."

"Text us if you'll be able to join dinner and we'll wait!" Jurin yells before you wave them off and start making your way back to the Harvey Center to finish up your tasks in lab. Part of you really wanted to stay with your friends and hang out for the rest of the afternoon, but you had promised Sunwoo you'd take the time to fix the behavior rig he had been working on for the past month. He just hasn't had the bandwidth to focus on it lately, so having you is tremendous help for him. 

When you get to the lab, there's still quite a few people lingering around in the office area in the basement, surprisingly. You pop over to their desks for small talk, getting to know the people in the lab and the projects they're working on. Most are situated at their desks, analyzing their data and coding between two monitor screens. Everyone's equally nice and passionate about what they do, it makes the environment less stressful knowing it's collaborative and engaging instead of being in a competitive nature. Belle pulls you aside to get your help just as Sunwoo is packing up for the day and thanking you for your help with the behavior rig. She takes about an hour or so of your time, giving you a quick rundown of the procedures she's working on and what you could help with in the next few weeks. It's after your time with Belle that you finally get to sit down at your desk and focus on the rig sitting on top of it. You don't think it'll take much time, and you feel like you'll actually be able to catch dinner with your friends.

Until you realize how difficult it is get everything situated on the breadboard properly. 

San hums as he walks through the cold air, pacing towards the Harvey Center to get to his office. He's just had a good workout at the faculty lounge, and he doesn't expect too many people [if any] to be lingering around in the open office space of the lab. He knows people are cooped up in their own laser or behavior rooms right now, and it's not even the first time he'll be strolling in casual clothes. He tries to keep himself clean and pressed down, but he too, has his days where he just wants to head to work in some jeans. A tshirt. Hoodie.

Right now, the cold is pricking his skin because he's in a black Nike dry fit shirt and sweats. He's running to the office to finish up a few last minute things before heading home and relaxing. As expected, the hallway feels eerily quiet. He assumes there could be one or two people locked away in the rooms, but he won't bother. When he gets into the office space, he doesn't see anyone in particular until he turns the corner towards his office and finds you sitting at your desk in the corner. The computer screen is pretty bright, and you've got your hands tied with a rig. 

He definitely wasn't expecting you to be here.

"Fuuuck." He hears you slightly whine when the small allen wrench in your hand slips and tumbles to the floor, followed by a few screws sitting on your desk.

"Hey Y/N, you okay?" San asks, dropping his duffle bag right in front of his office door before slowly walking over to you. You look up in surprise, eyes quickly scanning Professor Choi in his casual outfit. You're stunned at how good he looks in something so simple, how big and defined his arms are in that tight shirt; he looks so good you almost forget to respond.

He sure as hell catches on though, a tiny smirk growing at the corner of his lips.

"Oh, yeah. I'm trying to unscrew this but Sunwoo's got it in there tightly. I'm afraid I'm weak." He laughs and shakes his head.

"Nah. You're not weak." He picks up the allen wrench from the floor. "Which one?"

"This." You point. "And this too, while you're at it." He chuckles.

"You got it, boss." San angles himself closer to you, face only inches away from yours when he dips to get a better look. You watch as his arm muscles flex when he gets the wrench in there and starts undoing the screw, loosening it in a matter of seconds. "I'll let you do the rest." He moves onto the next and loosens it shortly after. When he finishes, his face is only inches away from yours and he keeps a hold there. He's looking at you again, really looking at you, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You're not sure what else to do besides nibble on your bottom lip.

"Thank you." You manage to choke out. He gives you a soft smile before handing you the allen wrench and standing fully upright.

"You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" 

"Um, no. I didn't." San looks at your hand a little further and notices the fresh scratch near your pinky— probably due to your hand slipping from the force, scratching it against one of the mounts sitting on the board. 

"I didn't expect you to lie to me so quickly." He teases, slight whine in his tone while he clicks his teeth. "Can I see?" You show him your hand. "Come to my office, got some ointment for it." He nods towards his door and leads the way. San could damn well show you to the lab's first aid kit down the hall, but his office is much closer and he'd feel a bit better than just sending you off to fend for yourself. 

"Professor Choi, I can just find the—" Before you can finish your sentence, he's already swinging his door open and holding it open for you.

"It's much quicker than heading down the hall to the first aid kit." He laughs a bit. You give him a tiny smile as you brush past and walk into his office, feeling a bit awkward being in his private space for something as little as a cut. You fiddle with your fingers as he places his duffle bag down onto the couch before grabbing the first aid kit in one of the drawers near his desk. He grabs a small pack of ointment and a bandaid, approaching you in the middle of the room. "Mind if I..?"

"Not at all." You leave out your hand for Professor Choi to take and he gently tugs it closer. He applies the ointment on your scab, dabbing it lightly across the surface before grabbing the bandaid and placing it on top. 

"There."

"Thank you, Professor Choi."

"You're welcome. Be careful next time. Make sure Sunwoo does the heavy lifting."

"I know. He's good help. I just figured I'd help him get a head start." San gives you a small smile. "Mind if I ask? What're you doing here later in the evening?"

"Sometimes, I just stay to get my work done. Can't always rely on my home office to keep me productive." He chuckles. "Plus, I get my workouts in at the faculty lounge." You nod.

"I see."

"How long have you been in the lab today?"

"I've been in and out in between classes."

"You haven't eaten dinner?"

"Nope. Dining hall doesn't close until 9pm, though." San looks at the time on his computer.

"Which is getting pretty close. You should wrap it up." You look at him with a small pout and it feels too difficult having to keep his composure while you keep looking at him like that. His eyes quickly dip to the low cut shirt you're wearing before he manages to divert his attention back up to your eyes. The tension is palpable, but you don't say anything. Even if you caught it, even if you wanna tease him a little. You try to stick to your own lane in case all of this is pure delusion. 

You're so fucking pretty, though. It's bad for San. 

Unhealthy.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. It's nice knowing you're working hard in the lab." He follows up with a laugh. "But, you should also get some time in for yourself. Rest and eat well. You can always come back to the work tomorrow."

"What if I fall behind?"

"There's no such thing on falling behind if you're constantly working on so many different aspects, Y/N. Plus, it's not gonna be perfect. You'll have days that're slow, that'll feel like you aren't getting much out of your project. But, I promise it picks up again and things will come out of it regardless."

"Noted." You smile at him. "I appreciate that."

"How about I finish up in there and we head out together? I'd really hate to leave you here in the office alone, especially if I don't have to." You look at him and even though everything inside of you is fighting, pleading, to say no, you end up with—

"Okay." You softly respond. "I'm gonna go clean up."

"Sounds good. I'll be out in a minute." He gives you that look again and you hate that you don't know if he looks at everyone else like this or just you. You eye him once more even as he's turned towards his desk checking his phone before you head out of his office and to your desk. You did make good progress on the rig, which you know Sunwoo would be grateful about. The only thing he needs to do is add the part he created the other day, a tube where the mouse would be situated for lick behavior tests.

Meanwhile, San plops onto his computer chair and pulls up his emails, looping in the appropriate people to help fix certain issues. He's got a few emails regarding just-in-time information needed for the grants he's been re-applying for, making a mental note to hop on a quick meeting with the people involved so they can get their reports and data together and send it off in a timely manner.

It never ends, he thinks. 

All is his life consists of now is work. The lab. Collaborating in various projects across departments. Working out. Sometimes, San wishes there was something else he could look forward to. Something else that could take time out of his day, something that he could put his attention to. Something like—

jongho: still on campus?

He turns to his phone when the text tone goes off, seeing the message from Jongho. San quickly checks the time and finishes up the last email he was working on before he got distracted.

san: yeah, gonna head out tho. just working on some last min urgent emails that came in.

jongho: wanna grab something to eat? i'll meet you at your car

san: alright, give me like 10 mins. 

San sends off his last few emails before checking his calendar for tomorrow's meetings. He has a virtual talk after class that he needs to prep for, which he'll do later tonight. Plus, he'll need to gather that information for the grants. Just thinking about it makes San breathe out a heavy sigh, slightly feeling overwhelmed at his never-ending to-do list.

Yeah, a new hobby or distraction would be nice.

"Ready?" You turn to see Professor Choi locking up his office, duffle bag slung on his shoulder. When he's done, he turns and gives you a small smile; patiently waiting for you to be ready. You nod, locking your computer and grabbing your things before walking out behind him.

"So, do you always work out in the evenings?"

"I try to, yeah." You look up at him while he walks alongside of you. "Helps me release steam from all the stuff going on."

"I can only imagine." You tug on your bag strap. "I don't know how you do it with your busy schedule."

"I'm not too busy." He says in a playful tone. "Just enough."

"Sure." You laugh. "Everyone knows how busy and occupied you are, Professor Choi."

"What if everyone just hypes me up too much and has the wrong idea about me?"

"I doubt that."

"How would you know, hm?" He smiles when he presses the elevator door. 

"Oh, please. I never not see you in a meeting or talking to someone, or doing a talk somewhere." You slip into the elevator with him. He rests against the rail on the opposite side from where you stand, fully facing you. "You even did that episode not too long ago for Professor Young's podcast."

"Wow, you really keep up, don't you?"

"How could I not?" He chuckles.

"That's nice to know that you do." He means it. As much as he loves when people treat him like a regular person, he also loves it when people keep up with his projects. His papers. His talks. He's not gonna lie; it is an ego boost, and he likes knowing that people take time out of their day because they're interested in hearing what he has to say or what he's working on now.

It's definitely nice coming from you.

You quietly stand off to the side, watching as the elevator takes you from the basement to floor 1 of the building. San is subtly eyeing you from where he stands, noticing how you keep to yourself and shift your weight between your feet in some kind of anxious move to get off of the elevator. You can barely look him in the eye and he thinks it's cute.

"What're your plans after you get dinner, Y/N?" He breaks the silence as you step out of the elevator and out of the building. The night isn't too chilly— the stars are dotting the sky beautifully, crickets are beginning to chirp. There aren't too many people moving across campus anymore, which is the usual at this time. Most are huddled up in lab if they're the working night-owl type, or resting at their dorms or apartments to get ready for the next day.

"Finish my loads of homework and try to hang out with my friends for a bit if we all aren't too tired."

"That's nice, minus the homework part." You giggle.

"What about you? If you don't mind me asking." He smiles.

"I don't. I'm just gonna meet up with the other Professor Choi and grab dinner with him."

"You two are close, yeah?" He nods.

"Yup."

"That's cute." 

"Is it?" He asks in a playful, sing-song way that has you shifting your attention to your feet to bite back a huge smile.

"It is. Very." You finally look up at him and meet his eyes. "By the way, I hope I'm not making you walk extra steps tonight." You point at the dining hall just down the path. "I can take it from here if you need to get to your car or meet him somewhere else."

"It's alright, I parked right over here." He nods towards the parking garage coming up on the left. "Easiest garage to find parking at."

"Works out then." You give him a tiny, toothless smile.

"Your friends are able to join you for dinner, right?"

"Should be. I'll call them in a few." You pause in your steps when the garage is directly to the left now. "Thanks for walking me, Professor Choi."

"You sure you don't need me to walk you towards the end of the path?"

"All good. I'm a big girl." He laughs.

"Yeah." He's doing that thing again. That thing where he just looks at you with a certain glint in his eye— a certain glint that makes you overthink, makes you wonder if he does this with everyone he comes across, or if it's just you. 

"Goodnight, I hope you have a good dinner."

"You too." You give him one last smile and wave before you start walking towards the dining hall, creating more distance between you two. You don't catch the way he continues to watch you until you've managed to cross the street and approach the dining hall— phone pressed against your ear because he assumes you're calling up your friends to meet you.

When he feels comfortable to take his eyes off of you, he crosses the way to the garage and starts walking towards his car that's sitting on the current ground level, Jongho patiently leaning against the tail end of it.

"Uh." Jongho laughs. "The hell was that?"

"What was what?"

"I saw you from here, don't try and be slick on me now." 

"It was nothing?" San pops open his trunk and tosses his duffle bag in.

"Didn't look like it." Jongho snorts.

"Y/N was just in lab and I didn't want her to leave alone."

"Your rotation student?"

"Mhm."

"Okay. I'm all for being a gentleman but be careful." He gives him a look.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I've known you for years, bro. There's a certain look in your eyes and it doesn't exactly scream 'nothing.'" 

"Well, it is." Is all San says. He doesn't really have anything else to say because he doesn't wanna sound like he's defending himself way too much when he doesn't need to. He knows better. Maybe. Hopefully.

"Aye." Jongho shrugs. "Want you to be happy but just keep it safe, yeah? You've worked really hard for everything you have."

"I know." San lets out a breath. "Anyway, where do you wanna go for dinner?"

"Happy hour at the bar nearby? I can be passenger princess, or if you really want, we can drive separately to make it easier. I guess." He playfully huffs, making San chuckle.

"Just get in." 

On the way to the bar, Jongho gives San more details about the collaboration and that the group is incredibly interested in moving forward. San nods, agreeing that it would be good for them and everyone involved both funding-wise and opportunity-wise. Jongho then tells San about his recent grants that were finally accepted and re-awarded, giving him a little more leeway to purchase new equipment he's been having his eyes on for Jiung and a few other of his lab members to toy around with. There's a certain idea that's been floating in his head for awhile now, one that San honestly doesn't understand much about because electrical engineering is a whole other beast to him. He gets the gist, and he knows Jongho has only done incredibly work, continuing to one-up himself every single time he comes back around with a new idea.

"So, there's another thing I've been thinking about." Jongho says, as they finally arrive to the sports bar and follow the host to a table on the back patio. 

"Should I be scared?" San asks as they sit and immediately order their go-to beers and the karaage they love so much. 

"I was thinking of asking the dean for some real estate at the new campus building."

"Bartlett Hall? The one that just finished construction?" Jongho nods.

"Mhmmm." He responds in a sing-song tone. "I briefly mentioned it to him in passing and he told me we'd talk more, but was hoping to get you onboard, too."

"Why me?" San laughs, picking at a piece of karaage with a toothpick before popping it into his mouth. Before San can hear Jongho's reasoning, the server comes back to take their orders. They both order different burgers, planning to exchange a half for the other. 

"Was thinking we could open the joint department together, finally have a space for us to combine our work in electrical engineering and bioengineering." San pokes out his bottom lip and nods.

"Sooo, we'd have to write a whole pitch and sell it to the dean?"

"Yeah basically, but we can run it by Namjoon first and see what he says."

"I'm down. I dunno if the dean will budge without implementing certain requirements from our end, but, I'm down to try."

"Yeah?" Jongho laughs. "Glad to hear you're down. It'll be good! I've been thinking about it for awhile but I was always hesitant. Think it's probably just best to take the leap. Worst thing they can say is no."

"That's true. Yeah, I'm down. It'll be good for the students and the postdocs. They'll have a space for them to collaborate together. Pretty exciting to think about, actually."

"Thought so." Jongho sips his beer. "I'll start working on a proposal and send it to you for edits."

"Sounds good with me."

"How was that meeting with Zara, by the way? I never got around to asking."

"Oh, it was good." He shrugs. "We talked a lot about getting her lab situated and getting on more grants ASAP."

"Sounded like a productive talk. Have you met again afterwards?"

"Yeah, it was." San clears his throat. "We met a few more times just to talk a bit more on some finer details for her lab and plans. Hope it was helpful at least. I turned her to Namjoon most of the time cause who else would know more?" Jongho laughs.

"Yeah."

"She's cool, though. Really sweet." Jongho snorts. "What?"

"I see Mingi's plan isn't really working well." San rolls his eyes, stuffing a few fries into his mouth before taking a bite. 

"Yeah, no. It's not." San shakes his head. "Don't even think about instigating, either."

"It's kinda fun. Plus, she's obviously attracted to you."

"No." San shuts it down.

"Why not? Why don't you just continue seeing where it goes?"

"I am, and I'm still in the same position I was when I first met her."

"Which is?"

"I respect her as a colleague and a colleague only." San glares at him. "I'm not going to force anything that isn't meant to happen." 

"Okay, fine. You're right. I'll get behind that." Jongho dips his last fry into the ketchup before looking back up at his bestfriend. "But at least promise me you won't be entirely closed off to it if it does naturally develop into something?"

"Uh." San pauses. He pauses not because of Zara or whatever Jongho's saying right now; he meant to agree, but he finds his thoughts suddenly roaming to.. you.

His curiosity, the need to learn more about you.

"Hello?"

"Sorry." San shakes the thoughts from his head in case Jongho can hear it or something. "Yeah."

"Definitely not genuine. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

"I can hear you thinking."

"Can you? That's an invasion of privacy."

"It's her, isn't it?"

"I literally have no idea what you're talking about." Jongho stares and gives him a certain look, causing San to divert his attention away. Away from him, onto anything, anyone nearby.

"Yeah, okay. That's all I needed to know." Jongho quietly sips on the rest of his beer before pushing his plate aside and sitting back into the seat. "San, make your decisions wisely."

"I already told you it was nothing."

"Okay." Jongho says in defeat, leaving the topic alone. All he wants is for San to be genuinely happy, just like their other friends do. But, he's also hoping San is smart enough to make the right [and wise] decisions.

Not be blinded by anything, causing him to make irrational and impulsive decisions based on his feelings.

"Anyway, are you good to go?" San crumples the napkin and tosses it onto his plate before standing up and grabbing his keys, phone.

"Yeah, I am."

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd

[edgeray]

hello ray! This is my first time requesting! ( I have read ur request rules too since I don't wanna be rude) I have read ur dragon arlecchino x dragon hunter reader and it was absolutely beautiful!. But I have come to request another version of that (I hope u don't mind) but in this version reader isn't a dragon hunter but a dragon trainer (or like trains dragon) u can make any scenario of this if u want!

Ps- I have read (almost) everything u have wrote Nd all of those were masterpieces.

Btw can my anon emoji be 🦋?. I'm currently obsessed with how beautiful butterflies are just like ur work!.

Dragons are Stupid.

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hello 🦋 anon! I know you sent this request a longgg time ago and I truly apologize for only just getting to this one. Thank you for your kind words <33. Also I really appreciate you reading my rules! Man, I miss writing these requests.  I won't be describing Arlecchino because I'm lazy and I also imagine that she looks the same in Dragon Hunter Mother, except she doesn't have three pairs of wings.

Content warnings / info - Dragon! Arlecchino, Dragon Trainor! Reader(?), could be seen as platonic bc no human form

In your quaint village, you were only twenty two when you became the first one to willingly leave–you wanted to explore beyond what your cozy town offered, despite all of the villagers’ protests. They told you that there were too many dangers that existed outside of the forest, but there was a buzzing inside of you that told you your purpose existed outside of the settlement. Reluctantly, you took off, but not without carrying a bit of something from every person in town. Your mother and father personally made you an entire portable cooking set, your aunt and uncle having crafted their most durable leather backpack yet, and from other families, packed homemade meals or tools. By the time you were ready to head out, you practically had enough food to feed six families. 

You were five days into your journey, simply traversing the thick forest and taking in all the sights. Your peaceful journey takes a turn when you notice in the distance trees that were partially or almost completely destroyed, their trunks broken entirely and falling onto the ground. The trees that are still standing are blackened and lacking their leaves–all of the vegetation around them are gone. 

Perhaps it was curiosity that drew you in or something else, but in any case, against your better reasoning, you decided to venture in. It didn't take long until you first encountered her. 

She was large, easily four times the height and many times the length of the largest creature you've seen beforehand (a bear, you later find out was the name of the animal). You had never seen anything like her before. Her sleeping form was so still, you would have mistaken her for a large boulder if not for the rumbling that came from her. If she was this massive while lying down, how much taller would she be if she was standing up. 

At that moment, every thought in your head told you to run away. Something that large would have no problem seriously harming or even killing you, even without malicious intentions. She could accidentally step on you, or one flick of her tail, and it would send you flying. Best not to wake up the beast. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you were too curious to scurry off, and circle around the sleeping dragon to examine its features. With one miscalculated step, your foot stepped onto a branch, emitting a loud snap that made you freeze in place. 

Instantaneously, the beast rose, a loud rumbling shaking the ground. Tumbling back onto the ground, all you could do was watch the towering creature approach you, their every step reverberating through the earth. Mouth agape and your expression aghast, there was some kind of pressure on your entire body that willed you still. The thumping organ in your chest resounded throughout your eardrums, deafening everything around you. 

Scarlet crossed pupils ensnared your gaze, and you were engulfed in those dark abysses. The massive being crept nearer and nearer until it stood just over you. With a deep huff, she maneuvered her head, sniffing at your backpack. A quick realization came to you as you recalled the food in your bag and hastily slid off your backpack straps to access the contents. The first thing food your hand grasped was a bagged loaf of bread, which you wrenched out and offered to her with an outstretched hand. Your hand couldn't stop trembling and you've closed your eyes, deciding against all your rationale to trust this strange creature. 

The bread was plucked gingerly by the creature's teeth and an audible gulp was heard. A coarse, solid texture pressed against your palm and when you opened your eyes, before you was a sight you couldn't imagine. The reptilian's snout was pressed against your hand, a soft resonance erupting from its throat–almost like a cat. In awe, you moved your hand across the snout and its scales, tracing along the indents with careful observation of the beast.

And at that moment, you think you've never seen a more beautiful creature.

Since then, Arlecchino (you had named her, and she begrudgingly accepted) had stuck with you, even when you ran out of packed food from your backpack. She was injured at the time, but at the first feeding you hadn't realized–only having seen the hole that pierced through one of her wings. You could only imagine that another dragon had caused that wound, like it had sunk its teeth in that area. The terrain you found Arlecchino in seemed to have been the battleground for that fight. 

Arlecchino could barely catch any food with her impaired wings, and it's likely she would have starved to die if she hadn't met you. Even then, it took her months for her wing to fully heal so that she could fly. It also didn't help that you were a novice adventurer–you barely knew how to hunt, fish, or gather any food in the wild. You had tried your best to provide her all that you could, and it was enough for her to live off on, despite sleeping for most of the day to preserve what little energy she got. Thankfully, the months had passed relatively quickly, Arlecchino providing you with no end of entertainment. 

“How do you always get tangled in the fishing nets? If you break another one, you can go catch fish on your own!” You yelled at the dragon as Arlecchino snarked back with an eyeroll, sweeping you off your feet with her tail. You fell into the creeks with a cry and cold water seeped into your clothes. You trudge your way back towards her, before kicking the water towards her. She blocks effortlessly with her wing, before fluttering her wing to flick back the water on you. 

“Archons, you're a terrible dragon!” You screamed with no real emotions behind it. With a quick tail swipe, your face was met with another blast of frigid water. 

You huffed, knowing that it was impossible to get back your revenge. You helped Arlecchino untangle her feet from the net, having Arlecchino hold one end of the net with her mouth. Traversing across the other side of the creek with the net, you waited for a steady school of fish to come your way. Not too long later, the two of you are able to heave out onto the bank a dozen or so fish. Arlecchino then goes to collect some firewood while you take out your knife to prepare your fish for consumption. 

As you're gutting the fish, all too smugly does Arlecchino dump the assortment of twigs and branches at your feet, accompanied with a good amount of saliva. You proceed to go into the creek for some peace to wash your feet while the dragon lights a fire on the branches. When you return, you shoot the reptilian a glare before piking your fish on a stick and setting it above the fire. 

The dragon lays beside the fire and you sit against her. You brushed your hand against her neck. “You're getting cranky, aren't you?” 

Arlecchino snorted. You assume that was a yes. “We can go pack up tomorrow and be out of here. If you save some fish, we could probably trade it to get you some beef, yeah?” 

The dragon doesn't react much, but from the swaying of her tail, the idea seems appealing to her. You chuckle. 

Vibrant red flickers across your face as dusk approaches. Your fish finishes cooking, the skin crispy and the flesh delicate. Your dinner becomes just that, paired with some bread and a few berries that you picked. Unsurprisingly, Arlecchino finishes four fish before you've reached fullness. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you warn as the expecting, deadpan look comes across the dragon's feature. “You can't finish my berries. And I'll give you the rest of my fish soon enough.” 

Arlecchino snarls and thumps her feet against the earth. The ground shakes and you couldn't be bothered. Typical tantrum.

You rip out a chunk of the cooked fish and offer it to her, outstretching your hand towards her mouth. As she unlatches her jaw, you cruelly pull away, popping the piece into your mouth with a wicked smile. Before you can start cackling, she lunges and wrenches your fish from your hand, stick and all. You gape at her as she chews and swallows, spitting out the stick that you used to hold the meat. 

“You–!”

Safe to say that humans can't wrestle dragons. You're knocked on your ass before you even knew you were. To rub it in, Arlecchino lets out a satisfied huff of smoke from her nostrils as you lay defeated underneath her tail. 

Stupid, stupid dragon. 

More A/N: Is it bad 😓? Yes. Cut me some slack, it's my first request in a while. 😭Anyways, I missed you guys. I'm on thanksgiving break, so I'm hoping to be able to get all the things I've wanted to write here, including some requests. I'll be working on requests all week (hopefully). I'll also be working on a lot of other ideas and I'm constantly thinking of new ones and it's so hard to focus on one. my main priority is my halloween event fic (alien! arlecchino) and because it's me, it's a beefy fic. again, I'll try to post more content, but most of them are gonna be tidbits/blurbs than full length fics. Requests will be paused until I finish about most of my requests (hopefully I finish all by/during winter break).

[deathbxnny]

hello!! capitano, ororon and wriothesley with a teen!reader who is like firefly?

Male Genshin Characters with a Firefly!Teen!Reader | Capitano, Ororon, Wriothesley x Gn!Reader

Hello Anon!! Thank you very much for your request, and I hope you'll enjoy this!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, reader has a chronical illness, talks of potential death of reader, angst, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》CAPITANO

He knew firsthand how cruel the world can be, and you confirmed that for him more than anything else. You were a lively kid he had taken under his wing as a toddler, and even from a young age, he could tell that your health wasn't the best. It only got worse over time until you were left unable to walk or really move much on your own. But what truly broke his heart deep down was your will to live in the face of certain doom. Death wasn't an option in your mind, and you refused to let it take ahold of you.

Capitano, therefore, did his best to be as supportive as he can be. In a way, he sees you two as parallels of eachother, both cursed with a disease that's rotting you from the inside out and yet, here you were, still fighting for what you think is right. For a chance to live a life worth staying for. He knew he was too far gone, however, and therefore, just put all his energy in keeping you alive instead. He made sure you had the best doctors in all of Snezhnaya at your sides at all times.

And when you just wanted to take a moment with him to relax somewhere in peace, he'll grant you that wish as well. Capitano knows that realistically, your days are more than numbered... but if supporting you until the very end is what makes you feel better, then so be it.

》ORORON

You were a couple years younger than him and were taken in by him when he found you near dying on a dirt road. He initially wanted to give you to the village, but when you refused to leave him after he nurtured you back to health, he simply kept you in his home as a younger sibling. Citlali made sure to practically visit every other day to check up on you, however, as she doesn't entirely trust her grandson with your deteriorating health alone. She knew it was too much for even him and therefore made sure to teach him everything he knew. Especially when you stopped being able to walk. It was clear that Ororon was hurting with you and was deep down desperate too keep you alive one way or another, despite the grave situation.

But what pained him the most was the bright look in your eyes, even when you're in major agony. Your body was betraying your excitement for life. It was terrible, and yet, he didn't let you notice how bad he had it. If you were happy and content with him here when you took your last breath, then he had done everything he could have. And he'd make sure that exactly that would happen.

》WRIOTHESLEY

He wanted you to live a happy, free life ever since he heard about your diagnosis. Wriothesley had taken you under his wing when you arrived as a young preteen and basically treated you as his own. Sigewinne kept an eye on you at all times as well, practically being glued to your side as she monitors the progression of your illness very closely. The Duke knew, however, that you wouldn't live for long after you weren't able to walk anymore. Your body was giving you up, but he refused to do so himself. Seeing you so bright and optimistic despite everything just motivated him to do better too.

He'll try his best to make your time in the fortress as enjoyable as possible. He will share his tea, crack some jokes, and watch the ocean life through the glass with you. Anything for a smile and happy laugh. And even if you're too tired and sick for any of it, he'll still be there to support you in silence. He wants you to know that he'll be there until you do take your last breath... but also, he'll be there to carry you back to the surface above after you do so.

[silveryshards]

Golden Man

NSFW. Top!Hawks x Gender Neutral!Reader. All characters are 18+.

Tags/Warnings: Blowjob, drooling, face fucking, dirty talk, praise, cumming untouched, swallowing, wings, established relationship.

Word Count: 693

A/N: I was reminded Hawks is hot as fuck. That’s it. Here ya go.

The soft sound of fluttered wings and the coolness of the breeze they generated washed over your bare skin. His eyes were rolled back, hand gently tangled in your hair, full bottom lip bit between perfect teeth.

A red flush the color of his wings ran from Kei’s cheeks down to his pecs. His chest heaved as he panted against the intense pleasure you were wringing from him. Golden eyes flicked down to you as you had paused to take him in.

“Baby bird please don’t stop.” Always melodic, always so sweet, your boyfriend begged you.

The fullness in your throat and the strain in your jaw came back into focus as his cock twitched on your tongue. Precum slid down the back of your throat. You swirled your tongue around the shaft just how he liked. A reward of a breathy, hitched moan fell on your ears.

Slurping and sucking and swirling as you slowly pulled your lips off, he whined. “Baby bird —”

“Cm’on, Kei, it’s okay. I won’t break. Take what you need, fuck my face.”

Those golden eyes widened, and you watched the gold disappear as his pupils overtook his irises. He took in a sharp inhale and a second hand wound its way into your hair. There are several shuddered breaths before he shakily said, “Hold on tight, baby bird. Tap my thigh twice if you need to breathe. Fuck, I love you.”

With the speed and strength of the top pro hero he was, he thrusted his thick cock in and out of your hot, wet mouth. Keigo’s eyes rolled back as he groaned with each thrust of his hips. His heavy balls smacked against your chin.

You did your best and relaxed your throat and breathed through your nose. But his lighting fast pace made it hard, and a few times you choked, tears springing in your eyes. Drool oozed around his beautiful cock and down your chin.

“God baby bird I love watching you choke on my cock. You like it baby? You like when I fuck this pretty throat of yours?” His melodic voice was rough with lust and effort as he kept fucking your face. You moaned around one of your favorite feasts.

“So perfect. Your mouth is so gods damn perfect, baby bird. You make me want to retire so I can just fuck this pretty —”

Hard thrust.

“Little.”

Another hard thrust.

“Mouth. All fucking day.”

You moaned around his length, shuddering and hoping you wouldn’t cum just from his filthy words and him fucking your mouth. You doubted you’d make it though. The smooth feeling of his cock sliding over your tongue and the full feeling of his cockhead lodging in your throat was truly blissful.

“My pretty baby bird. My heart. My soul. My everything.” He said it like he wasn’t making you drool buckets around his cock assaulting your throat.

Looking up yielded a visage that belonged in a Michelangelo painting. Kei’s messy gilded locks framed his gorgeous face. His scarlet wings were unfurled behind him and the plumage was puffed deliciously.

Cherry red, full bottom lip still caught between perfect teeth and his golden eyes were rolled back in ecstasy. Toned chest rising and falling with each excited breath and his chiseled abs quivering as his release fast approached.

You moaned around his thick cock that he was still thrusting hard and fast down your throat. Previous hopes of not cumming just from this were abandoned. He was too fucking beautiful and his words too filthy.

Pleasure pooled in your belly as a string of curses ground out of your boyfriend’s mouth. His hands tightened in your hair and his thrusts got impossibly more fervent. They started to stutter and become sloppy. He was close.

You were closer. You moaned and squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm wracked through you. That sent him over. He slammed his cock all the way down your throat and came, cock pulsing with each rope he emptied down your throat.

You swallowed eagerly and looked up in time for him to grin back down at you.

“Love you, baby bird.”

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[zigrethsnotebook]

hey I wasn't sure if u were taking requests so I'm sorry of this is annoying. Do u think u could write a ford x witch reader who like lives in the woods and has a bunch of odd pets (snakes, frogs, small cryptids, etc) I js think it's a really cool idea lol

Have a nice night

Drink water, eat food, and feel loved ❤️

-led

I absolutely am taking requests! ^^ Thank you, and I hope you enjoy💞

In the woods somewhere

Ford x Witch!Reader

words: 1,515

tags: sfw, fluff

Now that Ford was back in Gravity Falls and everything had finally settled, he went out to explore the forests again. Stan had just chuckled and told him to better stay in one piece and be back for dinner.

Ford made sure to walk a straight line pointing away from his house. If he followed it for long enough he would eventually reach a part of the forest he had never before seen. So he did.

It took him about five and a half hours to reach that point. Out here, the forest looked... greener. He wanted to say lighter but that's not true. The sun shone the same way it did anywhere else. But the colors of the trees and plants looked more vibrant somehow.

As he walked he made sure to note down anything he hadn't seen before. While Ford was examining a plant he didn’t know a butterfly landed on it. Ford smiled and pulled out his journal, trying to get a quick sketch of the little guy in his notes.

The insect had other plans though and soon flew onward. Ford followed it with his eyes for a second before his legs decided to follow the creature until it settled again. It had such a pretty pattern on its wings, he really wanted to draw it.

His plans worked out and he got a nice drawing of the butterfly. As Ford stood and looked around for the path he'd been on, he noticed that he had strayed off of it quite a bit. Making the best of a bad situation he decided to just explore this part of the forest instead.

After a few minutes roaming aimlessly, he came upon a clearing. In the middle of that stood a little wooden house, tinier than his own, in parts overgrown with moss and vines. It wasn't abandoned though. There was smoke coming out of the chimney.

His curious nature getting the better of him, Ford decided to approach the house. As he got closer he saw some creatures scurrying around the house and away from him. They seemed very fluffy, it must have been beard cubs, he decided.

Ford carefully walked around the house, trying to see where the animals had run off to. Behind the house he found a little garden where someone had planted vegetables, as well as a little pond that buzzed with dragonflies, bees and all kinds of other insects. The sounds were rounded off with some croaks from frogs he couldn't quite locate.

It was truly idyllic. But it was also a long way from all other people. As far as Ford could tell, he was their closest neighbour. He turned back towards the house and walked back around to its front door.

Ford knocked on the door. It took a few seconds and then the door swung open, revealing a way younger-looking person than he had anticipated. For some reason Ford had assumed that he’d be greeted by some sort of witch that was way older than he was.

The person who had opened the door looked truly surprised. They hadn't been expecting any visitors today.

After a few moments of stunned silence on both ends, you realized who this man in front of you must be. "Oh, goodness! You must be the new neighbour! I am so sorry I never got around to welcoming you properly."

This caused Ford even more confusion. You smiled at him and tapped your forehead as you realized why he was irritated. "Oh, I see. Sorry about that. Why don't you come inside for a cup of tea and I will explain what's going on here?"

Ford just nodded and let you lead him inside. As Ford looked around you introduced yourself and he did the same. He found the house even more charming on the inside. It was decorated with lots of plants and a surprising amount of candles. The rooms were way better lit than he would have assumed from the outside.

It was comfortably warm and a faint smell of lavender hung in the air. While Ford was sitting down at your kitchen table you prepared some tea for the both of you. "So tell me, Ford, how did you find me?"

"I was out in the woods, exploring a part of it that I had never been to. I lost the path I was on because I was... sort of... blindly following a butterfly." He rubbed his neck sheepishly. While he spoke, he looked around your house, really taking in all the little decorations you had scattered around every surface.

You chuckled at his words. "Yes. It happens to the best of us." A few moments later you had finished the tea and brought it over to the table, sitting down in front of Ford, who looked at you with pure curiosity sparkling in his eyes. It was adorable.

"So who are you? Why did you call me your new neighbour? And what did you mean by welcome me? Aren't you a little young to remember me moving to Gravity Falls?" You smiled at him and hummed. His questions were more than justified.

"Yes. Well, actually I assume I am around the same age as you are. I inherited this little cottage from my mother about two years before the reclusive scientist moved into the forest."

You watched Ford's eyes widen as he came to understand that you were telling the truth. "I really wanted to visit you and welcome you into the neighbourhood, but I didn’t get around to it for a couple of weeks. Then, the gnomes started telling me about some mean man capturing creatures."

Ford furrowed his brows, a hint of shame bubbling up inside him. "As you can imagine, I wasn't particularly thrilled to hear that. I went out to confront you about it, but the creatures stopped me, they were worried you'd capture me as well. So instead, I just helped them from here however I could."

Ford shook his head. "I never meant to harm any of them! I only came here to study." You sighed and nodded. "Yes. I know and I believe you." He looked back up at you with an apologetic look. Then it changed into an inquisitive one. "Why would I have tried to capture you?"

You chuckled at the question. "Because I am a witch, silly!" Ford's mouth fell open. How could he not have realized this? "Did you really think I would still look this good if there wasn't at least little magic involved?" You winked at him and he blushed slightly.

You took a sip of your tea as Ford tried to sort his thoughts. Before he could get a new one out a frog jumped into his cup splashing him with liquid. You huffed. "George! You know you're not supposed to do that!" The frog just croaked at you and you countered with a stern look.

You stood and took the cup with the frog back to the sink. "I'm so sorry about him. I'll get you a new cup." Ford thanked you as he tried to wipe at the wet stains on his turtleneck. When you turned back around to him and set the new cup down, you frowned at his clothes.

"So sorry about that as well. Here, let me help you." You chanted a short spell and soon enough Ford's clothes were dry again, no stains left behind. You smiled. "Perfect. Like it never happened."

Ford was speechless as he sat back down. Nearly speechless. "So does he do that often?" You chuckled a little embarrassed. "More often than he should, definitely." Ford joined you with a chuckle.

"So does... George... live with you in this house?" You hummed in thought as you looked over at the frog relaxing in the now almost empty cup. "I always say that my doors are open to any woodland creature that wants to be here. There's only two that really take me up on that though. George over there," you pointed at the frog, "and Theresa."

Before Ford could ask who that was you moved your arm in an apparently very specific way. Ford watched as a little rose-colored snake slithered out of your sleeve and onto the table. He smiled. It was an adorable snake.

You two continued chatting for a while and when you had finished the pot of tea that stood between you, Ford remembered that Stanley had told him to be back by dinner. "You could take my bicycle. As long as you promise to bring it back."

With a smirk from you Ford blushed again. Yes, you'd be happy to see him again.

Ford took your offer and promised to bring it back tomorrow. You were in no rush to get anywhere but you didn’t tell him that. You just smiled at him as he left your house.

He was back the next day. And the day after that as well. You two quickly became closer and even the forest creatures learned to resent him less.