#Penguin Writes: Fate

[inseobts]

hiiii!!! i hope you're having a good day 💖 i love your writing sm!! if your requests are open can i ask for a law x reader where reader used to date ace and was there when he died in marineford so she saw Law save luffy, so she joins the heart pirates as a way to thank him for saving Ace little brother. They slowly fall in love but won't admit it and when Law leaves to fight Doffy reader admits her feelings bc she's terrified of losing Law. They get together when they see each other again in zou

please please but it's okay if you can't or don't want to!!! 💖

Tides of Fate

law × reader (+ ace x reader)

a/n: this request was totally my kind of fav plots lmao thank you

words count: 5.9k

tags: slow burn, angst with a happy ending, marineford aftermath, emotional baggage

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

Luffy sits on the shore, his face blank. Too blank. The kind of emptiness that only comes after losing everything.

You know that feeling. It’s the same one you're feeling right now, that it's hard to breathe.

Tearing your gaze away, you turn toward the submarine where Law stands with his arms crossed, waiting. If you’re going to do this, you need to do it now.

Taking a deep breath, you step toward Luffy “Luffy.”

He doesn’t look up.

“I’m leaving.”

His fingers tighten around the bracelet, knuckles white “With them?” His voice is hoarse, raw.

You swallow hard “Yeah.”

Finally, he lifts his head, eyes bloodshot but focused on you “Why?”

You hesitate, because the real answer feels too heavy to say out loud. Because if I stay, I’ll break apart. Because the ache in your chest is unbearable, and you don’t know how to exist in this world without Ace in it.

Instead, you say, “I don’t have anywhere else to go... No one to go to.”

Luffy flinches, but you know he understands. He’s feeling it too.

His jaw tightens “You… you have me. You don’t have to go.”

You kneel in front of him, forcing a small smile “You have your crew, Luffy. They’re coming back to you. But me…” Your voice wavers, and you hate it “I need time.”

Luffy stares at you for a long moment before exhaling shakily “Ace really loved you, y’know.”

Your breath catches.

Luffy grips his hat and presses it to his forehead “So that means you’re like my sister-in-law,” he mumbles, voice thick with emotion “And I protect my family.”

Your vision blurs. You clench your fists to stop your hands from shaking.

“Luffy…”

He looks at you, his expression serious in a way you rarely see “You’re always gonna be my family. Don't forget it. You can come to me whenever you want and need to.”

The words nearly break you.

You force yourself to smile, even if it wobbles “Then you better take care of yourself, little brother.”

His lip trembles, but he nods “You too.”

You take a deep breath, memorizing the sight of him, before finally standing.

Law is waiting, watching silently as you step aboard. You don’t look back.

“That was dramatic” he mutters once you’re beside him.

You huff a weak laugh, hiding your tears “Shut up.”

He doesn’t push you for more, just nods toward the submarine’s entrance “Come on, Y/N-ya. We’re leaving.”

And with that, the Heart Pirates set sail, and you leave the past behind.

The Polar Tang is… different. Not in a bad way, just different. It’s quieter than the Moby Dick, smaller, and runs a lot smoother since it’s a submarine. The crew is nice enough, but they watch you carefully, like they’re waiting to see if you’ll actually stick around, and like they're afraid to say the wrong things.

You don’t blame them. You’re still trying to figure all that out yourself.

What you do know is that you’re not wearing that.

“Absolutely not,” you say, holding up the black and yellow jumpsuit like it personally offended you “There is no way I’m wearing this.”

Penguin grins “Aw, c’mon, it’s tradition! We all wear them.”

“Yeah, and you all look dumb.” You toss the uniform back at him.

Shachi snickers “She’s got a point.”

Bepo tilts his head “But it helps with unity!”

“I don’t care.” You cross your arms “I just lost my last family. I’m not replacing them by playing dress-up with you guys.”

There’s a heavy beat of silence. You didn’t mean to let that slip, but it’s too late now.

Penguin and Shachi exchange glances, suddenly looking unsure. Bepo’s ears lower slightly.

Before anyone can say anything, Law’s voice cuts through the air.

“She doesn’t have to wear it.”

You turn to see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His gaze flicks to the uniform in Penguin’s hands before settling back on you “As long as she follows orders, it doesn’t matter what she wears.”

You smirk, triumphant but still hiding the regrets of your previous words “See? Captain’s orders.”

Penguin groans “Man, you’re getting special treatment already?”

Law clicks his tongue “Tch. Don’t be stupid. She’s not getting special treatment.” He pushes off the wall and starts walking away “Now get back to work.”

The others grumble but scatter, leaving you standing there, still holding your ground.

Law pauses at the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder “You really will be following orders, though.”

You roll your eyes “Yeah, yeah, Captain. You don't have to repeat it again.”

He watches you for a second longer before walking away.

You exhale, shoulders slumping. You still don’t know if this was the right choice. But for now, you’re here and that’s enough.

Days pass, then weeks. You settle into life on the Polar Tang, though settle might be a strong word. You’re still figuring out your place here, still deciding if this is home or just a temporary stop before the sea pulls you somewhere else.

The Heart Pirates warm up to you quickly, especially Penguin and Shachi, who have made it their mission to pester you at every opportunity. Bepo is a sweetheart, and you swear Ikkaku enjoys giving you extra work just to see if you’ll complain.

And then there’s Law.

Your relationship with him is… strange. He’s your captain now, and he makes sure you don’t forget it. He orders you around, assigns you tasks, and corrects you whenever you mess up. But he also lets you push back more than he probably should.

Like now.

“You’re not getting out of training, Y/N-ya,” Law says, arms crossed as he watches you from across the room “You’re part of this crew, which means you need to be able to hold your own.”

You sigh, sitting cross-legged on the floor, pointedly not moving “I can hold my own.”

“You haven’t fought once since you got here.”

“That’s not true. I threw a wrench at Shachi last week.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“It should.”

Law pinches the bridge of his nose “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.” The words slip out before you can stop them, and for a second, Law freezes.

You don’t know why your heart starts beating faster. You don’t know why it suddenly feels like the room is too small, too quiet.

Then, he scoffs “Tch. Keep dreaming.”

You smirk, pushing yourself up “Fine, fine. I’ll train. But only because I choose to.”

Law rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue.

As you walk past him, you can feel his gaze lingering on you for just a second too long, and for some reason, that makes it just a little easier to breathe.

It's another day with them and dinner is as loud as always. Penguin and Shachi are arguing over who gets the last piece of meat, Bepo is calmly eating his food, and Ikkaku is scolding someone about their table manners. It’s chaotic, messy, and full of life.

You should feel comforted by it.

But then, Shachi laughs, almost losing another game “Doesn’t matter what happens, we’ll figure it out! That’s just how we are, right? We don’t let anyone mess with our family.”

It’s innocent. Just a casual statement made as a joke for a game. But your whole body freezes.

We don’t let anyone mess with our family.

The words slam into you like a punch to the gut. You’ve heard them before. Ace used to say them all the time.

“Nobody messes with my family and gets away with it!”

Your breath catches.

You see Ace in your mind so clearly, grinning, full of warmth and unwavering confidence. His arm draped over your shoulders, his voice always so sure.

“You’re stuck with me, you know. You’re family.”

The sound of laughter around you distorts. Your hands tremble against the table. Your chest tightens so hard it hurts.

Ace said those words all the time, and now he’s gone.

Your vision blurs.

You push your chair back so fast it screeches against the floor.

The room falls silent.

“Y/N-ya?” Law’s voice is cautious, but you can’t answer.

You stand abruptly, shoving away from the table as the weight in your chest becomes unbearable.

You hear Bepo call after you, but you’re already moving, already pushing out the door before anyone can stop you.

The hallway is quiet, but it doesn’t help. Your heart is pounding, your breathing uneven. The walls feel like they’re closing in.

You don’t know where you’re going, just away.

But then...

“Y/N-ya.”

Law.

His voice is calmer than it should be, given the fact that you just stormed out in the middle of dinner. You hear his footsteps behind you, steady and deliberate. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t demand you stop, but you do.

Because you don’t want to be alone.

You lean against the cool metal wall, staring at the ground, swallowing down the sobs threatening to escape.

Law steps beside you, close enough that his presence is solid, grounding. He doesn’t speak right away, just waits.

After a moment, you exhale shakily “Ace used to say that.” Your voice is hoarse “What Shachi said. About family. I know Shachi was joking, it's not his fault. My mind just started thinking too much, again.”

Law is silent, but you know he’s listening.

You blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay “Ace always said it like nothing could ever touch us. Like as long as we had each other, we’d be okay.”

Your voice cracks.

“But we weren’t. We obviously aren’t.”

And then, suddenly, you can’t hold it in anymore.

The sob breaks free before you can stop it, and then another. Your shoulders shake as you clutch your arms, as if holding yourself together.

Then you feel warmth.

A hand on your back. Firm, steady. Not pushing, just there.

Law doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t move away either. He lets you cry, lets you break, without judgment or expectation.

And when your knees nearly give out, he catches you, pulling you close, solid and steady, as if to say, I won’t let you fall. And for the first time since Marineford, you let yourself lean on someone else.

A few months passed…

Of course, things don’t magically get better. That’s not how grief works.

But they shift. Slowly. Subtly.

The crew doesn’t bring up that night you ran out of dinner crying, not directly. But you notice how they’re a little gentler now. Bepo always sits next to you. Penguin and Shachi tease you a bit less (but only a bit), and Ikkaku throws you extra portions without saying a word.

They don’t push. They don’t ask. But they see you.

And Law hasn’t changed. Not exactly. He still gives out orders like commands are oxygen, still gets that narrowed-eye look when you mess up during training, and still acts like emotions are an inconvenience.

But you catch him watching you sometimes. When he thinks you’re not looking.

And when you do catch him, he doesn’t look away.

It’s a calm evening, which is rare. The Polar Tang is surfacing for the night, drifting peacefully on the open sea. You’re up on the deck, sitting cross-legged and staring at the stars, enjoying the breeze on your face.

Law’s voice breaks the silence.

“Not hiding in your room tonight.”

You glance over your shoulder. He’s standing a few feet behind you, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.

“I like it up here,” you say, shrugging “it’s quiet. The stars help.”

Law walks over without asking and sits beside you, not close enough to touch, but closer than usual.

You blink “No book tonight?”

He smirks faintly “Even I get tired of reading medical journals.”

You hum and tilt your head back to the sky “Do you ever think about how small we are out here?”

Law doesn’t answer right away “All the time.”

Silence again, but it’s not uncomfortable.

You pick at a loose thread on your pants, then quietly say, “It still hurts.”

“I know.”

You turn to look at him “Do you think it ever goes away?”

Law’s eyes flick to yours, and for a second, his walls drop.

“No,” he says simply “But you get better at carrying it.”

You nod slowly. That makes sense.

You both sit there, the silence stretching, stars spinning above.

Then he speaks again, quiet and careful “You’ve changed.”

You snort “Thanks?”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You glance at him, surprised.

He’s looking out at the ocean now “When you came aboard, I didn’t think you’d last a week.”

You raise an eyebrow “Wow. Inspiring confidence, Captain.”

He smirks again, but it fades fast “But you stayed. Even after everything.”

“Because of you” you say before you can stop yourself.

Law looks at you, startled.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks but hold his gaze “You saved Luffy. You didn’t have to. And then you let me on your ship. You didn’t have to do that either.”

His voice is low “I didn’t do it for thanks.”

“I know. That’s why it mattered.”

There’s a long pause. Something unspoken crackling in the air between you.

You look back at the sea, heart pounding, trying to ignore how much you want him to say something, anything that will explain what’s been growing between you.

He doesn’t. Not yet.

But he doesn’t move away either.

And when his shoulder brushes yours, just slightly, you don’t pull back.

Two years.

That’s how long it’s been since you joined the Heart Pirates.

And somewhere between near-death missions, long nights on the sea, and quiet moments you didn’t ask for. Something changed.

You and Law changed.

It’s not loud or obvious. Not something you could put into words if someone asked. But it’s there.

Like the way his eyes always flick to you when he walks into a room.

Like how you always end up sitting beside him at meals, even without meaning to.

Like how his voice softens slightly when he says your name.

He still scolds you during training. Still sighs like you’re impossible when you ignore protocol.

And when you’re injured? He’s the first one kneeling at your side. Every time. Without fail.

You don’t talk about it. He doesn’t either.

But it’s real. It’s there. And everyone else knows it.

“Okay, seriously,” Shachi whispers one night as he leans over the dining table toward Penguin, “did you see the way they looked at each other earlier? Like... looked. That was something.”

Penguin nods “They’re either in love or telepathically plotting a murder.”

“I’m going with both” Ikkaku mutters, sipping her tea.

Bepo sighs “We’re not supposed to bring it up.”

“Why not?” Shachi hisses “They’re so obvious, it’s painful.”

“Because of Ace” Bepo says softly “She’s been through a lot. We won’t pressure her.”

That shuts everyone up for a beat.

Until Shachi mumbles “Still feels like they’re circling each other in slow motion.”

Ikkaku stabs a dumpling with unnecessary aggression “Just kiss already. I’m begging.”

You catch them watching you sometimes, too many times to pretend it’s subtle.

Whenever you and Law share a look, the whole room seems to pause.

Whenever he lingers a second too long beside you, or his hand brushes yours, the crew’s collective poker face fails miserably.

But Law ignores it all. Just keeps moving forward, like it doesn’t affect him.

Like he doesn’t know that your heart skips every time he calls your name in that low, measured tone.

And you pretend not to notice either. Pretend your stomach doesn’t twist when he leans in too close. Pretend you don’t feel the shift every time your eyes meet.

But in the quiet moments, when it’s just you and him, you feel something hanging there between you. Like something is building.

The unspoken thing between you and Law has only grown heavier by time. Stolen glances, the rare soft tone in his voice when he says your name, the way your hand always finds the spot next to his at the table.

You’ve gotten used to reading him, how to tell when he’s irritated, when he’s tired, when he’s secretly impressed. But now, something’s off.

He’s quiet lately. More than usual. Locked in his quarters for hours at a time. Studying maps, muttering things you can’t hear. And when you ask, he brushes it off with a flat “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Which, of course, only makes you worry more.

One night, dinner is unusually tense.

Shachi and Penguin whisper from across the table, not even trying to hide it anymore.

“She’s gonna find out soon.”

“She already knows. Look at her face.”

“She knows something,” Bepo mutters “But she doesn’t know it’s Dressrosa.”

You set your spoon down “What’s Dressrosa?”

The table falls into silence.

Ikkaku winces “Damn it.”

You stare at them all “What’s happening?”

Nobody speaks.

So you stand, chair scraping behind you, and walk straight out of the mess hall.

You find Law in the control room, his face locked over a table full of charts. Dressrosa is circled in red.

He doesn’t flinch when you walk in.

You close the door behind you “You’re going there.”

He nods once “Yes.”

“You weren’t going to tell me.”

Law straightens up, but doesn’t meet your eyes “It’s not your concern.”

“It is my concern,” you snap “I’m your crew too, just like the rest of them.”

He finally looks at you “That’s exactly why you’re staying with them.”

There’s a long beat of silence. Just you and him, staring, and the space between you suddenly feels like a chasm.

“You’re doing it again” you say softly “Pulling away. Trying to protect everyone by shutting us out.”

Law’s expression flickers with guilt, regret and frustration.

“I’m handling it.”

“No, you’re running. You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You're not scared...” You step closer, voice breaking “You’re terrified of letting people care about you. You think if you keep pushing us away, it won’t hurt when something happens.”

You lower your voice “But it will. It always does.”

He stares at you, like he’s waiting for you to stop.

You don’t.

“You think I don’t see what this is between us? You think I haven’t felt it for a long time now?”

He says nothing.

You take a breath “You’ve given me so much, Law. You gave me a second life after Ace. You gave me something to live for again.”

Your throat tightens “And now you’re just gonna disappear into some revenge mission and pretend like none of this matters?”

His eyes darken “It does matter.”

You blink “Then say it.”

Law opens his mouth, then closes it again.

You shake your head, heart cracking open “Forget it.”

You turn to leave.

But before you touch the door...

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says behind you “That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

You stop. But you don’t look back.

You don’t sleep that night.

You lie in your bunk, staring at the ceiling, replaying every second of that conversation. The look in Law’s eyes. The silence where his answer should’ve been. The ache in your chest that’s only getting worse.

When you hear footsteps above deck a little before dawn, you know it’s him.

You throw on a jacket and follow without thinking.

He’s there, standing at the edge of the deck, the sea wind catching his coat. Alone.

He turns slightly when you approach “You should be asleep.”

“You should be explaining yourself.”

His mouth twitches. A ghost of a smile. Gone in an instant.

You cross your arms “You were really gonna leave without saying goodbye.”

Law looks ahead again, gaze fixed on the horizon “Goodbyes make it harder.”

You take a breath “Harder for who?”

Silence.

You step beside him, close enough that your shoulder brushes his arm “I meant what I said yesterday.”

“I know.”

“And?”

He exhales slowly “You shouldn’t love someone like me.”

Your heart lurches “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“I know who you are,” you snap “I’ve seen you save strangers without blinking. I’ve seen you risk your life for your crew. For Luffy. For me.”

You pause, voice low “I love all of that. And if you leave now, and something happens to you—”

You look at him fully now “Don’t make me lose someone else I love, Law. Not without even getting to hold onto you first.”

His jaw tightens. He says nothing.

So you laugh, bitter and soft “Of course. You don’t say anything you don’t think you deserve to feel.”

You start to turn away, tears building, when he says “I do.”

You freeze.

He’s looking at you now. Fully. No mask.

“I do feel it. All of it.”

He steps forward, slow and certain, until he’s close enough that you can see the storm in his eyes and hear the quiet panic in his breath.

“Every time you laugh. Every time you sit next to me without saying a word. Every time I catch myself looking at you and don’t know how to stop. I feel it.”

Your lips part, but you don’t speak. You can’t.

“I didn’t want to,” he says, voice barely above a whisper “But it happened. And now I don’t know how to leave without feeling like I’m leaving part of myself behind.”

Your throat burns.

“So don’t,” you whisper “Don’t leave like that. Not with nothing.”

He hesitates.

Then, he leans in slowly, unsure, and presses his forehead to yours.

Not a kiss. Not yet. But it says everything.

“I’ll come back,” he promises “And when I do… if you’re still here—”

“I will be.”

A breath passes between you. His hand brushes your cheek like he’s still convincing himself you’re real.

Then he pulls away.

“Stay safe” he says.

“You too, Law.”

And with one last glance, he disappears down the dock, coat billowing, heart heavy, and not just with revenge anymore.

The moment your feet hit the ground of Zou, you’re paralyzed. The chaos of the crew bustling around you, the excitement in the air, everything feels too loud. It’s all too much. You’ve been bracing for this moment for what feels like an eternity, but now that it’s here, you can’t breathe.

You’ve heard the whispers that he’s finally back, felt the crew’s excitement bubbling up like they’re about to burst. But nothing could prepare you for the reality of seeing him alive. You knew they won, you knew he was out there, somewhere, but seeing him in front of you again… it’s different.

Your heart races. The crew is already moving forward, pulling you along because you’re too shocked to even move on your own. They don’t even try to hide it, they want to see this happen.

And then there he is.

The crew appears from the bushes and trees around him.

Law stands tall at the center of the clearing, his eyes scanning the crew as they move toward him, his usual cold demeanor barely cracked by the soft, almost imperceptible smile on his lips as he sees Bepo charging toward him before he could even find you with his eyes. The sight of him makes everything inside you freeze.

It’s not that you didn’t know he was alive, but now, standing here, seeing him with your own eyes, it feels real.

Bepo throws himself at Law, tears in his eyes as he cries out, “Captain!” The hug is tight, emotional, the kind of reunion you would have imagined, one that speaks of the bond between them, of loyalty and friendship. Law’s arms stiffen at first but then soften, holding Bepo close, the smile on his face genuine if not a bit awkward.

You stand there, caught in the wave of emotions that’s rushing through you. Relief, yes, but something else too...fear. Fear of what this means. You haven’t let yourself think about it that much, but now, with him standing there before you, something shifts. It’s the first time in two years you feel your heart thundering like it did when you first met him, when you started noticing those little things about him, the quiet ways he showed his care.

But now… he’s here.

Bepo pulls back, laughing through his tears “I’m so glad you’re alive, Captain!”

Before Law can even respond, someone else, maybe Ikkaku, maybe Shachi, pulls Bepo away gently, guiding him back to the group.

And then Law finally sees you.

There’s a moment, a breath of time where you feel like the whole world is holding its breath. You didn’t expect the distance between you to feel so large. You didn’t expect to feel so small.

You stand still, unsure of what to do, your legs suddenly heavy, like they’re made of stone. You know the crew, everyone, is watching, but none of that matters right now. You’re looking at him, really seeing him for the first time in so long, and it feels like everything inside you is falling apart.

He hasn’t changed. He still has that same unreadable expression, but something about the way he looks at you now is different. His eyes linger, and in them, you see the same thing you’ve always seen, quiet intensity. But there’s a softness now, a faint warmth.

You don’t move.

You can’t move.

It’s not fear. It’s… shock. You thought you were ready. You thought you were prepared. But seeing him here, right in front of you, it’s more than you can process in a single moment. The flood of emotions, the relief, the joy, the terror, all rush through you all at once, and it feels overwhelming. You never realized how much you needed this, how much you’ve missed him, until now.

And then, slowly, Law begins to walk toward you, his movements steady, calculated, like he’s taking his time, giving you space. When he stops in front of you, there’s a long pause. His eyes are searching your face, studying you, like he’s waiting for something. You’re afraid to look into them, to let him see how much you’ve been holding back.

And then, softly, he speaks “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally look up into his eyes. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come. The relief is too much. The pain of missing him, of not knowing if you’d ever see him again, it all comes crashing down, and before you can stop it, a tear slips down your cheek.

Law’s eyes flicker to it, and without a second thought, he reaches out, his hand gently brushing it away “You don’t have to hide it” he says, his voice low and careful.

“I—” You try to speak, but your voice cracks. You can’t say what you need to. It’s too much. Everything is too much.

Law stands there, his hand still lingering near your cheek, and you can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t rush. He just stands there, waiting for you to breathe, for you to find your voice.

And when you finally do, it’s quiet “I thought I lost you. I—I didn’t know if I could—”

“You didn’t lose me.” His words are simple, but they cut through the noise in your head. He steps closer, his hand sliding from your cheek to rest gently on your shoulder, the contact grounding you “I’m here. I told you I would be.”

And in that moment, you let yourself believe it.

You don’t know what’s going to happen from here, but for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re not standing alone anymore. Law is here, and he’s not going anywhere.

Zou is loud again.

After the quiet weight of seeing Law alive, after the press of his hand on your shoulder, after the whirlwind that followed, now everything is moving. New plans are forming. Straw Hats talking over each other. Heart Pirates buzzing about what’s next. Minks giving updates. It’s chaos. Familiar chaos. The kind you hadn’t realized you missed.

You find Luffy just outside one of the tree dwellings, scarfing down food like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, which, to be fair, is probably true.

“Luffy” you say, your voice unsure but soft.

He looks up, mouth full “Y/n!” He jumps to his feet and wraps you in the kind of hug only Luffy can give, tight, fast, and a little chaotic “You’re okay! You’re really here!”

You nod against his chest, your throat tight “You too…”

“Of course I am!” he grins like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “I knew we’d all meet again. I told you!”

He pulls back and beams at you “We’re gonna get Sanji back. Me, Nami, Chopper and Brook. You should come too! With me!”

You freeze.

Your eyes dart past the Straw Hats, past the Heart Pirates, until they land on him. Law is leaning near a shaded post, arms crossed, watching the scene from a distance. You can feel his eyes on you.

You start to answer Luffy, but someone else cuts in.

“She’s not going.”

It’s Law.

He’s walking toward you both now, slow and steady, like the decision was already made before this conversation even started.

Luffy blinks “Huh?”

Law stops beside you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours “She’s staying with me. With the Heart Pirates.”

You look up at him, startled. You hadn’t even told him you would yet. But he’s not looking at you, he’s looking straight at Luffy.

Nami steps closer, eyebrows raised like she knows exactly what’s going on “Luffy, read the room…”

Luffy blinks again, slowly turning to you “Wait. What? Since when?”

You open your mouth, but the words don’t come.

“I—” You shake your head “I was going to tell you. I just… I didn’t know how.”

“Why not?” Luffy tilts his head, confused as ever “You like Law, right?”

Your eyes widen “Luffy…”

“It’s fine,” he says with a shrug “I mean, I get the way you’re looking at him right now. I just didn’t know it was, you know… like that like that.” He grins.

You stare at him, stunned “You’re not… mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” he says, blinking like the very idea is weird “You think Ace would be mad?”

You swallow hard, throat tightening at the mention of Ace’s name.

“I just...” Your voice cracks “I didn’t want to disappoint him. Or you. He… he loved me. And I loved him. And I didn’t think I’d ever be able to—”

“Y/n.”

Luffy’s voice is soft. Even softer than usual.

He smiles again, big and warm and bright “Ace would be happy. Really happy. Because you’re not alone anymore. He wouldn’t want you to be.”

You blink fast, trying to keep the tears back, but it’s no use “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Luffy says, tapping his chest “Because Ace told me you were the best thing that ever happened to him. He said if anything ever happened to him, I had to take care of you. You found someone who can take care of you even better than me, and I’ll always support you like my sister.”

That breaks something in you. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to cry outright.

Nami steps up beside Luffy, resting a hand on your back “He’s right, you know. We’ve all known for a while now. About you and Law. After we met Law and Luffy asked him about you, it was pretty obvious even if the man here has the most unreadable face. It’s just Luffy that is always too oblivious.”

Law, still at your side, hasn’t said a word. But his presence is steady, anchoring. His eyes stay on you.

Luffy grins and throws his arm over your shoulder, dragging you into another hug “I’m happy for you, Y/n. And Ace would be too.”

You press your face against his chest again, this time not hiding the tears “Thank you.”

Law leans in slightly, his voice low near your ear “You didn’t have to be scared.”

You glance up at him, smiling through your tears “I know. But it still scared me.”

“I get it,” he says “But you don’t have to worry. And you can talk to me about your fears, I won’t leave you alone.”

And somehow, for the first time, you believe it.

The sun is dipping behind the massive trees of Zou, painting everything in golden light. The others are gone now, off to find Sanji. The moment they disappeared over the horizon, the world got quiet again.

Too quiet.

You sit at the edge of the overlook, watching the sky shift from orange to deep indigo. The wind brushes through your hair, soft and cool. You hug your knees to your chest, letting yourself breathe for what feels like the first time in days.

And then you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You’re always out, watching the sky when it gets dark” Law says, voice even.

You don’t look at him, not yet “It’s peaceful. Beautiful. Easier to think.”

He stands beside you for a second, silent, then sits down next to you with a small sigh. The space between you hums. Not touching, but not distant either.

You glance over. His hat’s off. That always does something to you. Makes him look realer. Softer. More… him.

“You really told Luffy I was staying with you” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips “Didn’t even bother ask me.”

“You were going to stay anyway” he replies, tilting his head toward you.

“I might’ve,” you murmur, teasing “Might’ve said no. Might’ve gone off on my own. Who knows.”

He looks at you, dead serious “You wouldn’t.”

You meet his eyes “How do you know?”

“Because you’ve looked at me the same way I look at you. You wouldn’t want to separate again.”

Your breath catches.

The silence after that is thick, like the air itself is holding its breath with you.

“I was scared,” you whisper “Of what it meant. Of what it felt like. After Ace… I didn’t think I was allowed to feel this way again.”

“I know,” Law says, just as quietly “That’s why I never pushed.”

You look down at your hands “But you stayed.”

His voice is steady “I wasn’t going to be another person you lost.”

That’s when your heart cracks, but in a good way. The dam you’ve been holding back breaks just a little. You turn to him, really look at him. The way the fading light touches his face, the faint worry in his brow, the way he’s looking at you like you’re everything.

“Say it,” you breathe “Just once.”

Law doesn’t hesitate “I love you.”

And you’re already leaning in by the time he says the last word.

The kiss is slow and gentle. His hand cups the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. Yours clutches his coat, grounding yourself.

It’s not desperate. It’s relieved.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, both of you a little breathless.

You whisper “I love you too.”

He smirks “You were worth the wait.”

Your smile widen and just as his small smile/smirk.

“FINALLY!”

You both flinch apart like you were struck by lightning.

Law whips around, eyes narrowing “What the hell—”

From behind a cluster of bushes near the edge of the clearing, three heads pop out in rapid succession: Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku. Bepo follows a second later, way too big to be hiding, but he tries anyway.

“We knew it!” Shachi shouts.

“I said it would happen today!” Penguin crows, fist-pumping like he just won a bet.

“I told you she was gonna make the first move” Ikkaku says smugly.

“You literally did not” Penguin says.

Bepo tries to look innocent “I was just... uh... making sure they were okay…”

You bury your face in your hands, heat flooding your cheeks “Oh my god!”

Law groans, dragging a hand down his face “How long were you there?”

“Long enough” Ikkaku grins.

“To hear everything” Shachi adds.

“I hate all of you” Law mutters.

“Don’t lie to us, Captain,” Penguin says, smug “You’re glowing.”

“I am not glowing.”

“You kind of are” Bepo mumbles.

You let out a breathy laugh, cheeks still flushed, but honestly, it’s kind of perfect. This dumb, messy, ridiculous crew, you didn’t know how badly you needed them until they showed up in your life. Until he showed up in your life.

“Alright,” Law snaps, pushing to his feet and brushing off his coat, “You saw what you wanted. Now go. Before I use Room.”

That gets them moving fast.

Shachi and Penguin scramble like cockroaches, dragging Bepo behind them while Ikkaku throws a wink over her shoulder “You’re cute together! Don’t screw it up!”

They disappear, giggling like kids.

You turn back to Law, trying not to laugh “So… that happened.”

He sighs, but there’s the faintest smile tugging at his lips “We’re never gonna hear the end of it.”

“Nope.”

A pause.

“…Still worth it?” you ask, teasing.

He glances at you. And then, softly “Always.”

[valiwrites]

reincarnation ✧.* formula 1

part 1 part 3

: ̗̀➛ pairing: formula 1 x senna!reincarnation!male!oc (nico santos) : ̗̀➛ warnings: strong language, people shipping drivers but nothing serious, bromance, hate comments : ̗̀➛ author’s note: i wrote this before and got a lot of hate for it. if it’s not your thing, just scroll past—no need to spread negativity. i didn’t write this just to read mean comments.

: ̗̀➛ smau

masterlist

maxverstappen1 ✔︎

liked by redbullracing, oscarpiastri, sebastianvettel and 1.3m others

maxverstappen another october gone with those idiots

tagged: lando, oscarpiastri & nicosantos

view all 786k comments

user1 keep nico away from alc he's still banging on my door to let him in

user2 bro for a second i thought u were one of the drivers being serious 😭

user3 lando in the first slide is so cute

user4 max in his influencer era will forvever be my favorite

user5 nico in his influencer era tho >>>

user6 it was the best i miss the dumb 0.5 pictures of daniel

nicosantos next time pick a more blurry photo of me i can still see its me 😐

maxverstappen1 ❤️❤️

nicosantos 🫸

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by maxverstappen1, mickschumacher, danielricciardo and 2.1m others

nicosantos meh

view all 454k comments

user1 most relatable caption yet

user2 oml max's face 😭😭

user3 it was the truth or dare video with nico 😭😭 and nico was doing handstands

user4 i claim you as my favorite driver

nicosantos ☺️

mickschumacher ist das mein hund, du kleiner scheißer 😤 (is this my dog you little shit)

nicosantos nein, mein kleiner kürbis 🥰 (no, my little pumpkin)

user5 help? you definetly used google translator for this

f1 ✔︎

liked by nicosantos, charles_leclerc, mclaren and 5.3m others

f1 we found some hilarious ancient videos of nico and honestly, we couldn’t keep these gems to ourselves.

view all 3.2m comments

nicosantos no no no delete delete!!!

user1 lmaoo nico fighting with f1 rn

user2 who's in charge of this account?? this is so funny we need more

user3 where did that penguin come from what 😭

user4 you wouldn't guess... from water 🤯

user5 that penguin straight up went karate on nico

user6 aww little nico is so cutee tyy admin we are so grateful for those

user7 how did he just casually fall like that

user8 he accepted his fate half way 😭

lando send me the last video i need it for blackmail

nicosantos just try...

user9 we need more baby nico content

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

I. “the club within the club”

read on AO3 🦇 taglist 📣

parts: next

plot: Bruce Wayne is an angsty mess and you get thrown right into his tornado when you accidentally discover his secret identity.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+ MATURE! NSFW! canon-typical violence, slow burn, enemies to lovers, angst (with a happy ending!), fluff, hurt/comfort, forced proximity, eventual smut, mutual pining, dual POV, Bruce Wayne needs a hug, mental health issues (psychosis, suicidality), substance use, blackmail (or is it?), serious health issues, grief, brief mention of sa (does not occur), gaslighting, torture

words: 2.4k

a/n: this is my first fic i’ve posted to tumblr and ao3, very excited to see how people like it ✨ same user on ao3 :) comments and reblogs are so appreciated! 💖 'the batman' and 'the penguin' are canon in this fic <3 i'll do warnings at the front ends of chapters when there's potential for the penguin spoilers, and for any of the more intense cw!

"I haven't turned in the assignment yet, I'm so sorry," you fumbled with your book and it slipped forward on the desk. Already a week late, the assignment was to write a piece on happenings around the city—the city was used loosely, because it was school policy to not require students in the field for assignments. You never lingered on what might have caused the rule to be enforced.

Dr. Vry was usually the picture of impatience, but not now. Though you couldn’t see the ‘journalistic prodigy’ frame she placed you in, she had a soft spot for you. Late work, stained sweatpants and haphazardly-stapled papers didn’t exactly scream talented, but you wouldn’t complain with your grade hanging in the balance. While you’d done well in the intro courses, more complex material left you struggling. She would say it was all in your head.

You’d never been great at people, though you’d tried—even going so far as to major in them. Four years of sociology had left you still tripping over yourself. You’d wanted to pivot with your last few credits, but were unaware how much grief taking journalism electives would cause. 

"You’re overthinking it." The professor gently shook her head, her salt and pepper hair unmoving in the slick bun. "I'll extend it until the end of next week. After that it's out of my hands!" 

With that (and a thousand thanks), you hurried out of class with your book squeezed tightly to your chest. Thank god, you thought. Can’t fail my last term.

Evening rain pounded your tiny apartment window as you nibbled at leftover takeout. The Family Meal was a steal you were too broke to ignore, even if the chow mein became a bit chewy for your tastes at day three. With your free hand you texted Mar, but knew she was out clubbing. How the hell she’d managed an early graduation with her social life was beyond you. How you’d landed in her orbit when you transferred, and that she’d accepted you as a friend, was an even greater mystery. 

Less of a mystery after endless nights sharing said Family Meal amidst midnight reruns, but nevertheless.

You stared at your dry phone for a few seconds, letting your mind numb against the backdrop of the ever-present monsoon of Gotham. Companionship was a dream long forgotten; the sting of loneliness here was too great, and since you planned to leave the second that degree slipped into your hands, it was no use forging new connections. 

Mar had snuck her way into a crack in the first few months of your arrival. Back when you thought you might find something here; back before you were proven wrong, and you’d given up on this godforsaken city. Leaving everything behind hadn’t filled the void, but you couldn’t accept that it might’ve deepened it. 

Mar didn't usually respond but tonight, she did.

Get your ass to the club! I miss you.

You chuckled a little at the idea of getting all ready to be sweaty in a room full of strangers. 

No thanks, have fun!

Within a second she’d disliked your message and sent another: You'll find more inspo here than in your studio. I'm sending a taxi, be ready in 10

You groaned and threw the phone down. It nearly fell off the couch entirely, forcing a wince. Ugh. A club? On a Friday? 

Men in Gotham were nasty, taking every opportunity to get something from a woman. Plastered across downtown were blistered posters with a faded number to report drink tampering. You should have expected as much with the city's reputation, but coming from a small town left you naive with hope many didn’t deserve. 

The day's exhaustion had worn your resolve and the longer you thought about her text, the closer you were to giving in. More inspiration... she might be right. Stifling a sigh, you glanced around your empty walls and noted the waning light outside. 

Fine, only for an hour.

You reluctantly walked to your closet to pick your outfit, bemoaning the night ahead. 

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself shivering under your apartment patio in a dark mini dress. Mascara and gloss had been the only options, because you’d thought your driver might actually be on time. 

Staring out at flashing headlights threatened a migraine, so you whipped out your phone and logged onto Scypher, a Gotham-area social platform. Mar teased that you were an adrenaline junkie with how often you stalked the ‘Crime’ tab, occasionally grabbing your phone “to see if the loading screen burned in yet”.

Pretty empty. Some car vandalisms, a fire likely caused by some teens with too much time on their hands. Hmm. As unease pricked your skin, you reminded yourself that this was good, this was great. Wouldn’t want to go out during a crime surge. 

You looked up as you heard a tire tempt the curb. The driver called your name, and you slunk into the backseat. The leather was cold, rough, and generally uninviting. Classic Gotham.

The drive was quick, passing clubs practically on every corner. When he pulled up to one of the most elite clubs in the city, cold flashed through you. “I’m sorry, my friend must have given you the wrong directions—”

"It’s correct." He was stern, and when you started taking out cash, he waved a dismissive hand toward you. "Your friend already paid." 

Flustered, and frankly confused he hadn't sneakily accepted double payment, you staggered out. He barely waited for the door to shut before slamming the gas. Mar would get an earful.

The line wasn't too long, so you fell into step behind a few people laughing hysterically. On instinct, your eyes dropped first to their hands—empty—then their pockets—green. Tinfoil. Right. Dropheads. Harmless, but annoying in their glassy-eyed, inconsiderate bliss. Why couldn’t they popularize a drug that made you quiet and subdued, not screeching outside apartment buildings in the middle of the night?

You paused, the harsh reflection of your frown in an oil-slicked puddle challenging your cynicism. At least they were happy, too busy enjoying themselves to notice the stranger scowling behind. What would that be like to be completely out of your own mind? 

God, it seemed like a fucking vacation.

The line moved fast so you didn't have time to find an excuse to leave. You held out your card to the burly, tall bouncer who gave you a once-over and a smirk. Sexual harassment this time, or being denied entry for an out of state ID? No one moved to this city. No one but you. 

He handed your things back, and held out a hand for the club fee. Shit. A nervous look over his shoulder displayed a menacingly-Sharpie’d sign requiring $50 entry, and you managed three crumpled twenties from the bottom of your bag. He smiled, yanking open the rusty door for you. “No change.”

Well, guess I'm eating ramen this week.

Your ears began ringing the second you entered the club, glass-shatteringly loud speakers shoving the bass into your organs. People were packed in like sardines, and before you could even muster a thought you were grabbed fast from behind.

"Y/n!!!" Mar wrapped you in a hug while you tried to steady yourself. 

"Shit, Mar,"

"You look SO good! Fuck yeah!" She smiled and smacked your ass as she led you towards the stairs. You hadn't gotten much of a look, but her eyes looked bleary, inflamed. Not damning enough to call out, not with the beams of red stage lights flooding the dance floor.

"I met some guys that got us a lounge!" 

She was giggling, but you pulled away. You'd already been sufficiently creeped on by the bouncer, and longed for the sweet relief of your bed. "I thought this was a girl's night,"

"C'mon babe, relax!" A green hunk of tinfoil fell from her pocket when she whipped around. When you yanked your hand back, frustrated, she peeked over her shoulder like a guilty dog. It made you soften, but not by much. 

"MAR." You bent down to pick up the litter just as a man came up behind. One press of his hips to your torso made you recoil at the intrusion, and you spun around to shove him away. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” A bit of his drink spilled on your side, and you grit your teeth. By this time Mar had stepped up, always a willing wingman. 

"Hey, don't fuck with a woman like that, bitch!"

BAMBAMBAMBAM. 

Impossibly loud, impossibly close popping noises whipped through the crowd like gunshots. All hell broke loose. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. They were. It was. Fuck.

You grabbed the railing to pull your shaky legs to the exit when body after body rammed into you, leaving you stuck. Suddenly a kid again, ducking to your knees under the desk, shoving your hands over your head during drills. Crouched now, you wondered what the fuck a hand would do against a bullet. A cool wave of helplessness traveled your spine as someone’s knee knocked your skull against the stairwell in their escape.

The gunshots inched closer, closer, egging on your heart rate, curdling your thoughts sour. I shouldn’t have come. I don’t want to die. I shouldn’t be here. I should’ve stayed. What the fuck am I doing? Where is she? Is she dead? I’m going to fucking die, I’m going to fucking die.

You drew a shaky breath that was too loud for comfort, and forced your mind to clear for just a few seconds. What was the easiest place to hit? Images of autoplayed video after autoplayed video swirled your thoughts, trying desperately to parse which position those that survived all those mass shootings had been laying in. What had all those survivors said? What the hell had kept them alive? Luck? Silence? Luck and silence.

A rapid increase in gunfire made you shriek despite your survival instincts. One would fly through the railing, you just knew it. You knew it, you knew it, you knew, why hadn’t you stayed in bed, you’d never shit on your apartment again, you’d live and breathe and die there, no, you’d die right here, right fucking here—

Silence. 

Sweat beaded your entire body as it electrified with adrenaline; you squeezed your eyes shut, shoving yourself against the side of the stairwell in an attempt to make your body as compact as possible. The rough concrete texture burrowed into your arm as you jammed harder, harder, harder… I could be dead with just one bullet.

Before more morbid thoughts could form, you yelped as you felt your body being lifted and slung over someone's shoulder. Something was hard and slick against your stomach, and the world whizzed around you when you dared look around. The arm that held you was so strong you couldn’t slip out if you tried. Relief coated you as the chill of Gotham’s night air hit your cheeks. 

Short-lived was the relief, as a new panic settled in alongside it. Though you were fully removed from the chaos, the man wasn’t letting you go. 

An elbow was the first thing you tried, but it nearly had you choking on tears as it scraped against unforgiving material. Were they armored? 

You tensed your abs and fought to roll out of his grip. Nothing. Nothing but a grunt from the man holding you, but you couldn’t even begin to isolate the voice while your ears rang with tinnitus. 

So you shouted and wriggled, screaming “Let me GO!” until the cows came home. Or until he let you down, whichever came first.

"Stop fighting." A low, gravelly voice spoke hot against your ear, punctuated by a hard flop of your ribs digging into the edge of his shoulder. Bruises were evidence of struggle, something this dipshit probably wasn’t thinking about. You heaved a breath in preparation of another flop, but it wasn’t needed. 

Without warning the man released his grasp and you slid off, landing squarely in a puddle. If this was an EMT, they needed more training and identifiable clothing. Black on black made him hard to focus on, but the shock of a pale jaw knocked the wind right out of you. 

The Batman. 

“Oh, uh,” the tornado of panic relaxed ever so slightly, and a sliver of shame crept in. “Sorry.” You felt bad for thinking of all the ways to immobilize him, from a kick in the crotch to digging your nails into his eyeballs. 

He stood there long enough for reality to seep in. One, that you were safe, and two, that you hadn’t been. You’d finally found yourself in the crossfire and unless a dozen people died, it wouldn’t even make the news. Maybe you needed to leave before graduation.

“Turn around.”

Batman’s sharp tone burst through your reverie, and you spun around instantaneously. His word was good as gospel. In your year and a half here, a few of your classmates had spoken of being saved one time or another. “He never sticks around. Gone as quick as he comes. Thank god for him.” It was instinctual to trust him, like reaching for water on a hot day.

And his voice brooked no argument. 

The back of your head lit up in flaming pain. The edges of his gloves caught on some hair strands, and you gasped. “You need stitches.” 

A screen lit up on his arm when he stepped back. Your vision blurred at the edges, eyes watering from the pain. "Victim with head wound on Feller and Kelley." 

Head wound. Better than a fucking bullet to the chest. Never before had you swooned over the thought of a needle snaking through your scalp. You sighed out a thank you, half-wondering if he planned to carry you to whomever he’d called. You couldn’t tell for sure, vision much too hazy, but he might’ve nodded. 

In a blink, the masked man was halfway down the alley. Just when he turned out of view, police lights illuminated the space, flashing off the balmy brick. You swallowed hard, letting the shock wash through you. Part of a fucking shooting. Saved by the Batman.

And you hadn't gotten a good look at him.

[justa-fanfic-writer]

– How could this happen?

Yandere, OOC?, didn't know where the plot would go, reader is deaf, shitty ending, and other warnings I don't know blah blah blah...

Trafalgar Law x Gender Neutral Reader

Symmary: Basically, you have somehow ended up in the One Piece universe, but you're deaf and only use sign language, but luckily, you had joined Trafalgar Law's and his crew the Heart Pirates and you had joined! But something about Law isn't right...

Btw thank you, kiyoahdiy, for this idea credits to them and but I had a hard time writing this since it was hard coming up with this story would go, so I especially hope you liked this!

---------‐-----‐-----‐-----------------

Waking up to the familiar sensation of the ocean’s rhythmic sway beneath you, you had to remind yourself—yet again—that this wasn’t some strange, vivid dream. You really had ended up in the world of One Piece. The sight of the bright, open sea stretching endlessly around you was beautiful yet disorienting, a constant reminder of how surreal your situation was. What had started as a normal night back in your world had turned into a reality where you found yourself stranded in this dangerous yet exciting universe.

At first, you had struggled, not just with the shock of being thrown into this pirate-filled world but also with how to communicate. Being deaf meant that you couldn’t hear the chaos around you, and your way of communicating—sign language—was foreign to everyone here. You had felt more isolated than ever.

That was until you met Trafalgar Law and his crew.

The Heart Pirates, initially wary of your sudden appearance, had quickly taken a liking to you. Bepo, the giant talking mink, had been the first to show interest in learning how you communicated, his wide, fluffy paws trying their best to mimic the signs you taught him. Penguin and Shachi followed, eager to help bridge the gap between you and the rest of the crew.

And Law… Law had been watching you closely the entire time. From the moment you stepped on his ship, his amber eyes had never strayed far from you. He was quiet, calculating, as though he was studying every aspect of you—not just your movements but the very essence of who you were. It had unnerved you at first, but you’d quickly chalked it up to his nature. Trafalgar Law was a brilliant tactician, always thinking ahead, always planning. You had assumed his interest was nothing more than that of a captain trying to understand a new crewmate.

It wasn’t until one fateful night that you realized there was much more to it.

•~•

The crew had been sitting around the deck after a long day, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air—though you could only see their smiles, their body language giving away the friendly banter. Bepo had sat beside you, signing clumsily about the day’s events, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his efforts. It felt nice, like you were truly part of the crew.

That’s when Law appeared, as he often did, quietly, his presence casting a shadow over the lighthearted mood. His expression was unreadable, a subtle frown etched across his face as he glanced briefly at the crew before turning his focus solely on you. Without a word, he motioned for you to follow him.

You hesitated, wondering what could be so urgent, but ultimately complied, rising to your feet and trailing behind him. Law led you to the far end of the ship, where the noise of the crew faded, leaving the two of you alone under the stars. The sea breeze was cool, and for a moment, you simply stood there, watching the moonlight dance across the waves.

Law turned to face you, his usual gruff demeanor replaced with something almost… vulnerable. He pulled out a small notepad, something he often used when words weren’t enough to communicate with you, and scribbled something down.

"I want to learn more."

He wrote before flipping the paper around for you to see. You had blinked in surprise. You had been teaching the crew basic sign language for weeks now, but Law had always stood on the sidelines, watching with that intense gaze of his. Yet he never seemed interested in joining.

Before you could sign a response, Law continued writing.

"But I want you to teach me. Alone."

Your heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t like Law. The captain was always distant, calculating, rarely showing any signs of personal interest. Why now? And why alone?

You nodded cautiously, curious but unsure of his intentions. You began showing him some basic signs, expecting him to struggle as the others had, but Law, true to his reputation as a quick learner, picked up the language with ease. His movements were precise, controlled—just like him.

The two of you spent hours like that, the rest of the crew long asleep, as you taught him more and more. And the more he learned, the closer he seemed to get. Literally. His presence was starting to be overwhelming, the space between the two of you growing smaller with each passing moment. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, and every time your hands brushed during a sign, a strange tension built in the air.

Eventually, Law stopped signing, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. His expression shifted slightly, his usual cold exterior softening ever so subtly.

And then he signed something with his that made your heart stop.

“Be mine.”

You froze, your mind racing to comprehend what you had just seen. Your eyes widened in disbelief, wondering if you had misinterpreted his signs, but Law’s gaze was unwavering, his hands still poised in the air, waiting for your response.

You had never considered romance to be a possibility in this world—especially not with Trafalgar Law. He was always so focused, so guarded. And you? You had resigned yourself to thinking that love was out of reach, that surviving in this world was all you could hope for.

But here he was, asking you to be his... his lover...

You hesitated, a million thoughts running through your mind at once. Was this real? Could you even trust him? Law was powerful and brilliant, but he was also ruthless. You had seen firsthand how he commanded his crew with an iron will, how he controlled every aspect of his surroundings. Was this just another form of control?

Yet, despite the uncertainty, despite the unease swirling in your gut, you found yourself smiling. Something about the way he was looking at you, the vulnerability hidden behind those amber eyes, made you want to believe that this was genuine.

You shook your head slightly, trying to clear your doubts, and as you had blushed a bit as heat was coming in your face as you signed.

“I accept.”

For a moment, Law’s expression didn’t change. He simply stared at you, his face unreadable. But then his eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a small smirk as his brows had furrowed. He looked almost…pleased? As if he knew you would accept... Or perhaps something deeper, something darker was lurking behind his gruff exterior.

He stepped closer, his presence now fully overwhelming, his eyes piercing into yours with a possessive intensity. You had sealed your fate, though you didn’t realize it at the time. The moment you accepted his confession, the moment you agreed to be his, you had unknowingly surrendered to something far more dangerous than you could have imagined.

-(So how's your day been...?)- XD

From that point on, Law’s possessiveness became suffocating. It wasn’t obvious at first. To the crew, things seemed normal, but you could feel the shift. He would always be nearby, watching, waiting. If you spent too much time with the others, even if it was something as innocent as teaching Bepo a new sign, Law would find a way to interrupt, his hand resting on your shoulder as a silent reminder of his claim over you.

It became clear that Law didn’t want anyone else near you—not even his own crew.

One evening, while you were sitting with Penguin and Shachi, showing them some new phrases, Law appeared as if from nowhere. He didn’t say anything, just stood there, arms crossed, his expression as dark as the night around you. The others quickly picked up on the tension and made an excuse to leave, but you could see the worry in their eyes.

As soon as they were gone, Law pulled you aside, his grip firm but not painful. His eyes burned with something intense, something you hadn’t seen before.

“They’re not important”

He sighed quickly, his movements sharp and precise.

“You are important. Only to me.”

You frowned, signing back that the crew mattered, that they were your friends, and was also Law's crew, but Law’s gaze darkened.

“I don’t care”

He sighed as his hands moved with frustration as he was signing with his hands.

“No one else gets to be close to you. Just me.”

You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. This wasn’t love—it was obsession. And you were trapped in the middle of it.

•~•

The final straw came when the Heart Pirates met up with the Straw Hat crew. Luffy, in his usual carefree manner, had approached you, all smiles and curiosity. He tried to communicate with you, his wide eyes filled with excitement, but before you could even sign a greeting, Law was there.

His hand gripped your arm tightly as he stepped between you and Luffy, his eyes cold and dangerous.

“Strawhat-ya”

He said, his voice low and threatening.

“Back off.”

Luffy blinked, confused, but shrugged it off, turning his attention elsewhere. But you could see it—Law’s possessiveness was spiraling out of control. No one was allowed near you. No one but him.

That night, as you lay in your bunk, you realized the truth. Law didn’t love you—not in the way you had hoped. He was obsessed, consumed by the need to control every aspect of your life. You had thought that joining the Heart Pirates would give you a chance to survive, a chance to live in this dangerous world.

But in accepting Law’s love, you had sealed your fate. You weren’t just part of the crew. You were his prisoner.

And no matter how hard you tried to escape, no matter how much you wanted to be free, Law would never let you go. You were his, and he would make sure no one else ever came close to you again.

As Law had kissed you, and the kiss was nothing more on how much he loved you... in a sick and twisted way. The kiss was how Law had held your waist so tightly as if he didn't want to let go...

As the two of you kept kissing as after a few more moments of passionate kissing, Law had said something that made your spine chill.

"You're mine (M/N)-ya and mine alone."

And as Law gave you one more kiss on the lips, you could see the smirk on his face as if he knew he was right.

---------------------------------------

Yeah, this was hard to write, especially with school and how i could barely think of the plot, too, and sorry if it had been a long time as I posted... again...

[rizzanon]

You know what would be funny? Is that reader would be the prime target of villains and even the rouges for a sidekick-join-me-to-the-darkside sales pitch because

A) she could be molded into what they wanted her to be due to her wanting validation

B) she's determined. Girlie got the guts even if she lacks skill

C) she's just fun to be around even if she only shows up in slow nights

Ivy and her share gardening tips (more like Ivy gives her a crash course in botany every time they met), which she later on shares to Alfred

Harley will always try to psycho analyze her, and her emotions whenever she's not busy blocking Joker's attempt to catch the lonely bat away from her nest, she can he Harley Junior, don't ya think sugarplum? (Like bitch get away from the child?!?!?!)

Catwoman couldn't count the times she had to teach stealth to this girl and how to have quick hands. (Why is Batman allowing this baby out????? Imma keep this kid in a spiky bubble wrap)

Two-face likes her. He can see the conflict she has within herself and would love to see how she turns out. Would it be Heads (she gets what she wants [Validation] but would break her) or Tails (she gets what she needs [self appreciation] but would break those around her). They have lengthy debates on whether Gothamites are immortal at this point or not

The Riddler is somewhat reluctant to fight her because the girl can't even do Sudoko for God's sake (she just doesn't want to answer it in front of him) Now he teaches her how to say what she wants without actually saying it. Bro just gives her lessons in riddles and problem-solving better than the bats did with her "training"

Killer Croc won't hurt the kid who's been feeding him A grade Wagyu since she was a toddler who accidentally dropped the grocery bag she wants told to hold because she's a big girl now. Now they just have this truce whenever she slips some bags of meat down the sewers that Alfred definitely didn't notice

Bane, just straight up, don't want to interact with the puny kid that word on the streets feeds Croc and has fun time spa sessions with Ivy, Harley, and Catwoman not that he's afraid of course. He just doesn't want to steal the little peace the others have whenever she's around

The Penguin likes to have her around because she got the skills in handling business like the Lounge (props to all the lessons she has with Lucius in how to deal with the company and playdates with Tam)

Mr. Freeze likes her ideas on how to cure Nora it may be unorthodox or out of the box, sometimes like putting her in a Laz pit, but no, it would make you indebt to Ra's so that's a no to idea 156 then

Clayface likes how she acts like her acting skills and would want to hone it

Scarecrow would like to have a new test subject

Mad Hatter would like an Alice

Joker can go fvck himself

Like do you see my vision or nah

Anyways, I'm just whispering some ideas in your head wooooo~~~~~

putting this out here because this is way too good anon holy shit i love this sm. though i wouldn’t say that undoing fate reader has this sort of relationship with gotham’s villains/ rogues, this will definitely be a very good what if to write about LOL. also spoilers¿? catwoman, ivy, harley, penguin and two face will definitely make an appearance in undoing fate (probably chapter 8/9/10, haven’t really fully drafted those chapters yet) im not sure if im planning to have the other of gotham’s rogues and villains appear in undoing fate, but this is what i’ve planned so far HAHA

[goingmerryfics]

Law x mute S/O?

(Also love your fics <3)

Mute/Selectively Mute S/O w/ Law

Content: Gender neutral reader & SFW, Corazon mentions so spoilers for Law's backstory

Notes* I started writing for this, thought I was done, then came back to add more things because I remembered that Law used to know someone who was selectively mute…

Law

The minute he met you, he would want to know if your condition was something medical related. Whether selectively mute or not, he'd immediately be interested in finding out if there was a medical or psychological reason for you to be unable to speak

He may come off as insensitive because of this, but he doesn't mean to, and he would quickly apologize if you indicated that he'd insulted you

Speaking of insensitive, Shachi and Penguin try endlessly to ‘trick’ you into speaking

Even if you try to explain that you physically can't speak, they think it's a challenge

Bepo wouldn't mind, he'll chat away and appreciate that you're a good listener

Either way, Law knows sign language and he communicates with you that way if you are able to understand it. Being a doctor, he tries to have all his bases covered if there's ever an emergency with someone that can't talk

Otherwise he always keeps a notepad and pen on him if you need to talk to him

He may be a grump, but he's patient and understanding. He finds ways for you to communicate that work the best for you, especially for missions where he can't keep an eye on you

Best believe that if there was a way to cure you, he'd make that a top priority. If it was medical, he's got that down

But if it's related to anxiety or PTSD or stress, he'd take care to be more cautious around you to try and help you open up a little easier. He's not on you all the time in full therapy mode, it's actually the opposite. He gives you the space you need to choose to speak when you're ready.

He's at peace with knowing that he will/may never hear you talk, but in his opinion, your voice doesn't matter as much as the rest of you does

If you do have the ability to speak though, you would eventually find him working away in his office as usual

You smooth your hands over his shoulders and lean down to kiss his cheek, and he sighs out his tension and smiles a bit

“Are you trying to convince me to take a break?” He shifts so he can get a good look at you and kiss your cheek

You whisper that you miss him and even though his eyes widen, he doesn't want to spook you by making it a big deal that you spoke.

It's easier to pull him out of his chair that day and drag him to bed so he can rest his eyes

Spoilers below

Even though you'd spoken once, that doesn't mean you'll do it again and he understands that- but as time goes on, creeping memories begin to surface and haunt him

You weren't that similar to Cora, but the muteness was starting to remind him of the man he'd lost long ago, and slowly he starts to feel like maybe this was a sign that he was cursed and might lose you, too

All of the sudden, his plans against Doflamingo don't involve you anymore

He's stuffed himself in his office more, researching your condition and trying to come up with some sort of cure or treatment

He's so worried about losing you that he doesn't realize he's losing time with you

He's started to avoid you, finding it hard to stay around you when he's this anxious about your fate

Eventually you get him to open up about it and he does so teary eyed, but after a long conversation he agrees to relax a little and you assure him that you're not going anywhere

[nomercymaster11]

Through Law's eyes (Chapter 4)

@GOKUJOUNOMAGURO

WC: 2,993 | Law x y/n, afab!reader | continuation of "We should talk" A/N: My attempt of writing a first person perspective, Law's POV, reminiscing the days before that one fateful day. It's been about three years now since she became part of our crew. I remember the day she barged into our lives like a storm, all fierce determination, and pleading eyes. We'd just finished a mission on one of the islands in the North Blue, and she'd been instrumental in our success.

But when she asked to join us, I wasn't exactly jumping at the chance. See, it's not that I had anything against her personally—it's just that taking on new crew members is a big decision. Let alone another woman, aside from Ikkaku, to join the crew.

But as Penguin—bless his chatty soul—filled me in on her background, I started to see things differently. Turns out, she wasn't just some runaway trying to escape a bad situation. She had skills—mad skills. Not only was she handy with medicine, but she knew her way around basic mechanics too. That's the kind of resourcefulness you can't ignore on the Grand Line.

Penguin had spent some time with her while we were sorting out the aftermath of our mission. He couldn't stop talking about her, which, coming from him, was saying something. But the more he told me, the more I realized that she belonged with us. She wasn't just looking for a way out—she was looking for a purpose. And maybe, just maybe, we could give her that.

So, despite my initial reservations, I welcomed her aboard.

At first, she struggled with sea sickness, poor thing. But she didn't let it keep her down for long. Despite her initial queasiness, she threw herself into life aboard the Polar Tang with all the gusto of a seasoned sailor. She had this tomboyish vibe about her, fitting right in with the rough-and-tumble atmosphere of our crew.

Watching her adjust was like seeing a flower bloom in the midst of a storm. Day by day, she grew more accustomed to the rhythms of life at sea. And when she finally donned that crisp, white overall suit—the same one worn by the rest of the Heart Pirates—it was like she'd always been one of us. The crew welcomed her with open arms, and she fit in seamlessly.

I often caught glimpses of her shadowing Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo, soaking up their knowledge like a sponge. They took her under their wing, showing her the ropes of ship life, teaching her the ins and outs of the Polar Tang. They made sure she knew the rules I'd laid down, and they filled her in on all the little tricks and quirks of submarine living. And you know what? She took it all in stride, like it was second nature to her.

As they reported her progress to me, I couldn't help but be impressed. She was a quick learner, picking up skills that took others years to master. And every time I nodded in approval, it was like giving her a silent pat on the back. She was proving herself, not just to me, but to the whole crew.

                                              XXXX

I remember that moment vividly, like it was yesterday. I was making my rounds through the submarine when I noticed a faint glow emanating from beneath the door of my office. Curiosity piqued, I approached quietly and peeked through the small window. There she was, surrounded by a sea of medical books, completely engrossed in their pages. Her expression was a mix of fascination and concentration, her lips forming silent words as she absorbed the knowledge within those worn pages.

I knocked softly, not wanting to startle her, and she jumped, clearly caught off guard. As I entered, she stood up quickly, blinking rapidly as if she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be touching these," she apologized, her voice tinged with guilt.

But I shook my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "No problem at all. You're welcome to borrow them anytime."

Her face lit up like a child on Christmas morning, and she grinned at me eagerly. "I also brought some medical books with me when I came aboard the sub. Can I keep them here?" she asked, gesturing to the stack of books she'd brought with her.

I nodded, touched by her enthusiasm. It wasn't every day that someone showed such genuine interest in expanding their knowledge.

And so, our impromptu study sessions began. It was the only time we were truly alone together, just the two of us surrounded by the wealth of knowledge contained within those walls. And as we poured over the books, exchanging insights and ideas, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness growing between us. She wasn't just a member of my crew—she was a kindred spirit, hungry for knowledge and eager to learn.

This isn’t something we do on a regular basis. During those rare moments when our duties aligned and we found ourselves in the same room, engrossed in our respective books, I couldn't help but steal glances at her. There was something mesmerizing about the way she immersed herself in her reading, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips moving silently as she absorbed the words on the page.

One particular night stands out in my memory. We were seated across from each other, the soft glow of the lamplight casting gentle shadows across her features. As I lifted my gaze from the text in front of me, I found myself studying her with a newfound curiosity. Her long lashes brushed against her cheeks with each blink, and her eyes darted back and forth across the pages, devouring every word. My gaze trailed down to the delicate curve of her nose, and then lingered on her lips—soft and full, like petals begging to be kissed.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the sudden wave of distraction that washed over me. I couldn't afford to get lost in thoughts of her—not when there were duties to attend to, and a ship to command. But despite my best efforts to focus on my reading, my mind kept drifting back to her, like a ship caught in an irresistible current.

What are you doing? I chided myself silently, forcing my attention back. I couldn't afford to let myself be distracted—not by her, or by anything else. But as I stole one last glance at her, her beauty illuminated by the soft glow of the lamplight, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips.

But such thoughts were dangerous, I reminded myself sternly. We were pirates, after all—outlaws on the high seas. And as much as I might have wanted to, I couldn't allow myself to get too close. Not when the stakes were so high, and the dangers so real. So, with a sigh, I forced myself to turn back to my book, pushing aside the tantalizing thoughts that threatened to consume me. But deep down, I knew that no matter how hard I tried to resist, she had already captured a piece of my heart.

That moment of distraction was like a brief flicker of light in the darkness—a glimmer of something I hadn't felt in ages. But I knew better than to let it take root. Emotions were a dangerous thing for a pirate, especially someone in my position. So, I buried those feelings deep down, resolved to concentrate on the current task.

                                               XXXX

I threw myself into my duties with a renewed vigor, strategizing and planning with a single-minded intensity. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and before I knew it, a year had slipped by like sand through my fingers. We had crossed into the treacherous waters of the Grand Line, where danger lurked around every corner and the ocean itself seemed to rise up against us.

In the depths of the Grand Line, the challenges we faced were unlike anything we'd encountered before. The sea monsters were larger, fiercer, and more relentless than those of the North Blue. Every day was a battle for survival, as we navigated through storms and dodged the attacks of creatures that seemed intent on tearing our ship apart.

But despite the dangers, I found solace in the chaos. In the midst of battle, there was no room for distraction or doubt. Every decision had to be made with precision and clarity, every move calculated to ensure our survival. And as the captain of the Heart Pirates, it was my responsibility to lead my crew through the storm and into calmer waters.

So, I pushed aside any lingering thoughts of her. There would be time for reflection later, when the seas were calm and the danger had passed. But for now, my only concern was keeping my crew safe and steering our ship toward our next destination in the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line.

                                           XXXX

It was on one such stop at an island that another incident unfolded. As I stood by the dock, mulling over our next course of action, she came bounding towards me, her fiery determination evident in every step.

I couldn't help but let out a sigh as she stood there, her lips set in a determined pout. This wasn't the first time we'd had this argument, and I had a sinking feeling it wouldn't be the last. She was stubborn, that much was clear, and when she set her mind to something, there was no stopping her.

But as much as her defiance grated on my nerves, I couldn't deny that there was something undeniably endearing about her fiery spirit. Even when she was being a brat, there was a spark in her eyes that I couldn't help but admire.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to quell the rising frustration within me. "Fine, have it your way," I relented, knowing that arguing any further would be futile. "But on one condition."

Her eyes lit up with curiosity as she leaned in, waiting for my terms. "What is it?" she asked eagerly.

"If you're able to land even a small cut on me anywhere on my body, I'll let you join Penguin and the others in their sparring," I replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.

I told her that she’s supposed to be a support and not someone who fights on the frontline.

Her expression faltered for a moment, a hint of doubt flickering across her features. "That's not fair! You're way stronger than me!" she protested; her frustration evident.

I shrugged nonchalantly, not about to back down. "Then give up, easy as that," I teased, hoping to quell her whining once and for all.

But instead of conceding defeat, she squared her shoulders and met my gaze head-on. "Let me practice first," she declared, her determination shining through.

And in that moment, I knew there was no stopping her. Whether I liked it or not, she was going to find a way to prove herself, even if it meant facing off against me, her captain, in a battle of wills. And as much as I tried to resist, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride swell within me at the sight of her unwavering determination. She may have been a handful, but she was my crewmate, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

As the crew gathered on the shore, forming a circle around us, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through my veins. The air was charged with excitement, and I tightened my grip on Kikoku, its weight resting comfortably on my shoulder, while the other hand remained tucked inside my pocket.  Beside me stood <y/n>, a few inches away, her movements fluid as she stretched her arms, cracked her knuckles, and warmed up her legs. The intensity in her eyes was unmistakable; she was dead serious about this.

"You can still back out if you want to," I offered, my voice laced with a hint of warning.

"Why? Are you scared of me?" she shot back, her voice laced with playful defiance.

A chorus of cheers erupted from the crew, egging us on as we prepared to face off. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her cockiness, unsure where her newfound confidence was coming from.

"What's going on?" Shachi whispered to Penguin, his curiosity evident.

"It appears that the two had a deal, something like that," Penguin replied, his arms crossed as he observed the scene. He had assisted her briefly in honing her swordsmanship skills.

As we squared off, I caught Shachi and Penguin exchanging whispered words, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. They knew something was up, but they trusted me enough to let things play out.

"Just to let you know, I won't hold back. You wanted this after all," I warned her, my grip tightening around my sword as I began to unsheathe it slowly. Truth be told, I was bluffing. Landing a small bruise on her would be sufficient—I had no desire for her to harbor any ill will towards me. But perhaps teaching her a lesson was necessary.

For a moment, hesitation flickered in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her own sword but then she squared her shoulders and advanced towards me. It was easy for me to anticipate her moves, to parry her attacks effortlessly. Despite her lack of experience, she wielded her sword with conviction, her determination evident with each swing. But there was something different about her—something unexpected.

"I thought you're not going to hold back? Why are you on the defensive?" she taunted, her words ringing in the air.

I couldn't help but smirk at her audacity. With a swift movement, I vanished from her line of sight, only to reappear behind her, ready to strike. But to my surprise, she anticipated my move, twisting her body to block my attack with her sword.

Her movements were fluid and precise, as if she could see right through me. And when I attacked again, she parried effortlessly, her eyes locked on mine with a steely determination. Testing my theory, I attacked from a different angle, only for her to evade once more.

"Since when did you know you could use Observation Haki?" I asked, taken aback by her newfound skill.

"I wasn't sure," she admitted, panting slightly from exertion. "I started seeing things differently."

She was full of surprises, that much was clear. But even as we continued to clash, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her than met the eye.

"The deal is still on though," I reminded her, my voice firm.

"I won't back down," she replied

She may have been a novice, but she had the heart of a warrior, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of respect for her in that moment.

As our sparring continued, I couldn't help but admire her tenacity and marvel her progress. Despite her initial hesitations, she was adapting quickly, her movements becoming more fluid and precise with each exchange. The cheers of the crew egged us on, fueling the fire that burned between us.

But as the minutes dragged on, I found myself growing weary of the fight. With a final swing of my sword, I sent her weapon flying, causing her to lose her balance. Her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the fall, but before she could hit the ground, I acted on instinct, hooking my arm around her to steady her. Our eyes locked in a moment of shared intensity, breaths ragged, chests rising and falling in unison. I could feel the warmth of her hand against my chest, the beads of sweat glistening on our foreheads.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around us fading into the background as we stood locked in that intimate embrace. But the sound of applause from the crew jolted me back to reality, and I quickly helped her to her feet, trying to ignore the strange fluttering in my chest.

Retrieving my sword and sheathing it once more, I took a moment to catch my breath, removing my fur hat to run a hand through my hair. But before I could even gather my thoughts, she was already asking about joining the others in their sparring sessions.

"You didn't land a scar anywhere on me. So, it's still a no," I replied firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Her face fell instantly, her lips forming again to a pout that I couldn't help but find endearing. But I refused to let myself give in to her charms—not now, not ever.

"Rules are rules. You know that" I reminded her, furrowing my brows in a gesture that I hoped conveyed my seriousness.

But she wasn't about to give up so easily. Grabbing my arms, she examined them closely, searching for any sign of injury. She squeezed my hand firmly, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. Then, she cupped my face in her hands, her touch gentle yet probing. She moved my head from side to side, inspecting me for any hidden injuries, her eyes scanning my features with unwavering focus. I stiffened under her touch, caught off guard by her sudden gesture. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirling within me.

"Stop that," I scolded lightly, trying to mask the way her touch affected me.

With a resigned sigh, I watched as the crew began to make their way back to the submarine. But even as we parted ways, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something much bigger—something that would change us both in ways we couldn't even begin to imagine.

Chapter 3.5 | Chapter 4.5 (Almost at the end)

[queenmimi2817]

Hockey AU! Trafalgar Law x GN!Reader: Part 1

This is my second time writing a fic, but first time for One Piece. I am a really big hockey player and decided to combine the two things I love: men on ice and Law.

Across the Grandline University System, there were a multitude of hockey teams. All the highest level of college hockey with several players signed to the professionals. Several teams constantly toppled each other to hold the number one rank in the division, desperate to be the ones holding the JoyBoy trophy at the end of the season. Among the top four teams were; The Strawhat Pirates, The Heart Pirates, The Blackbeard Pirates, and the Kid Pirates. 

The Roger Pirates had left behind impossible records, undefeated for an entire season, winning the trophy like they were fated. All their numbers were retired at the end of that year, their skill inspiring the establishment of a trophy for the best player in the entire league; the Roger Award, an award seen as good as the shiny gold at the finals. The best compete for the honor of that award, rolling in the awe and celebration that comes with the title of MVP for an entire season. 

Every game was entertaining, with no guarantee of the same winner. The Heart Pirates may win at home, but they could lose at every other arena during their playoff season. Unfortunately, lady luck and her cards were not on the Heart Pirates’ side as the season started; back-to-back ties with the Strawhats, a win-loss weekend with the Kids, and getting swept by the Blackbeard Pirates so bad that Trafalgar Law started a fight and got kicked out the third period, something he was known to never do. Y/N was known to be a frequent attendee of the games, always in the student section in the front row. The team’s away jersey of black and gold sat on their shoulders, beat-up old boots on their feet, their palms red from smacking the glass every game. 

At the end of the game, Law pulled off his jersey in the locker room, throwing it into his cubicle, huffing at the 0-5 score that decorated the scoreboard at the end of regulation time against the Strawhats. With the fate of their placement in the final four standings in the hands of the points collected by the team. “We should have not lost that game.” Law spat at his fellow teammates, pissed off. He knew it wasn’t their fault, but still; teamwork resulted in the sad excuse for a defense, and pitful offense.

“Take it easy, Law” Penguin said, rolling his eyes under his helmet, “We can come back, we play one more game than the Strawhats.”

“We shouldn’t have lost.”

“When Luffy and Zoro are in the starting lineup with Sanji, it’s a hard battle,” Shachi said unclipping his helmet and rousing his damp red hair. “And it could be worse.” Law snapped his head over, his arms crossing over his chest. 

“We could’ve lost this bad against-” Law sent Shachi a glare before grabbing his bag and heading to the showers to get clean and dressed back in his game-day suit. 

Y/N waited by the doors leaving the player entrance, their breath floating in the cold winter air, as players walked out, filing to their cars. Finally, Law walked out, his black hair mostly dried as he wore a black suit, his sports bag slung over his shoulder. His gold eyes quickly locked on their position and he nudged his head to the parking lot, “Let’s go.”

As soon as they both climbed in his car, his bag thrown in the back, Y/N broke the silence. “You did your best-” They said. At this Law dropped his head on the steering wheel setting off the horn.

It was going to be a rough playoff season.

[hrrtshape]

your trademarks ™️:

‘girlhood’ movies (pride and prejudice, virgin suicides, black swan, girl, interrupted, etc.)

the van der woodson mom from gossip girl

cigarettes

baby pink

chanel

the song “you’re so vain”

ariana grande

a pink miu miu bag with pearls

paris, Texas (movie and song)

the 1997 performance of silver springs

writing with a feather quill and pink highlighter

coriolanus snow

thin bows (but specifically the one lana wears on the dykttatuob cover)

…also the blue banisters cover

slightly dried pink flowers

a shelf full of penguin classics

ballet flats (and a trenchcoat buttoned to the TOP.)

pink champagne

babydoll tops and dresses

also… happy birthday to your mom!! (me and her share a birthday.. if we’re in the same time zone lmao) 

i’m gonna barf glitter. this ask is so scarily accurate it feels like it was ghostwritten by a corrupted backup of my tumblr drafts from 2021 and 2049 simultaneously. you are cordially invited to my funeral and also my 50th birthday. yes, both. at once. bring a pink lighter and a copy of franny and zooey.

how dare you know me like this. as if i’m not trying to be enigmatic and deranged in peace. as if i’m not already busy rewriting the virgin suicides as a neoliberal economic parable for fun. but no, you had to come into my inbox, in platform ballet flats and a miu miu prayer, and say something true. i feel stripped. i feel baptised. i feel seen by the god of nuance. this list reads like it was compiled by the national archive of femininity and post-ironic despair. it’s so right it hurts.

i will be seated forever. happy late birthday to my mom AND to you, mysterious girl-shaped oracle who clearly moonlights as my subconscious. if we’re sharing a time zone, then fate is real, and so is semiotic collapse. you’re officially invited to the next screening of paris, texas at my house, we’ll cry over nastassja kinski and talk about how girlhood is just performance art done barefoot.

this ask changed me. i’m different now. more correct. more bow-shaped. more me. thank you thank you thank you

xoxo, miss little hrrtshape (girl, god, and minor character in a bret easton ellis novel) aka emma aka the van der woodsen mother if she had a blog and unresolved theory beef with laurie penny.

[lazycats-stuff]

Okay hear me out, reader x batfamily okay? The reader is 2nd youngest (like 14) and recently during a mission, they got sent to alternate reality where they’re a bad guy, and witnessed themself kill the batfamily? Obviously you don’t have to write out that part if it makes you uncomfortable, but any ways. Once they return they distant themselves from the family beacuse they’re scared they’re going to hurt the family and turn out like the other evil them? The batfamily has enough of this after a while and corners them and kinda pressures them into telling what’s going on with them, and the reader kinda breaks down and says what they saw and that they’re scared they’re going to hurt their family. The batfam comforts them and tells them that, their nothing like their evil self? Somethin like thattt

Oh yeah... My poor reader is going to be traumatized.

Summary: (Y/N) gets thrown into a an alternate dimension. He didn't expect to be evil.

Warnings: murders, major characters death, but not really, alternate universe, angst and fluff,

(Y/N) had a bad feeling about all of this. He was back in Gotham, his home city. But there was something that is off. His family encountered Klarion and that's when the fighting started.

The fight was a blur for (Y/N), but he remembered that Klarion threw him into a portal. After an uncomfortable travel, he landed on top of a building, near GCPD.

And something is so off. It's too quiet for (Y/N). Now he felt like Bruce, knowing how the city felt. Was he turning into Bruce? (Y/N) shuddered a little bit, not wanting to be Bruce.

It isn't a necessarily bad thing, but still... One thing is for certain.

This is not his Gotham. Nope.

" What is going on here? " (Y/N) asked himself, trying to calibrate his comms. When he couldn't find their channel for their own comms, now he knew.

This is an alternate universe. Of course Klarion would throw him into an alternate universe or reality. Now there is a new question that he needed to answer.

What has happened with his family?

Were they still the same? Did somebody go insane? Did somebody turn into a villain? (Y/N) shook his head.

Nope. He won't think like that. He is going to hope that his family is fine. But where should he go first? GCPD? Should he find Gordon? Or his father?

What about the rouges? You know, Two Face, Penguin... Is there still Joker here? He hoped that there isn't. He didn't have any will power to deal with him.

Well, James Gordon is going to be his best choice. And besides, there is a bat signal up in the dark sky. He started moving, eager to move and get back home quickly.

Should he go to the Justice League HQ? You know, to find doctor Fate?

If Bruce was here they would have a plan set in place already and 5 different strategies how to approach this entire thing.

He landed quietly on the roof of the building, dusting his cape off. Gordon saw him and pointed a gun at him.

" What are you doing here? " Gordon asked, voice full of anger. What the hell has happened? (Y/N) stayed calm as ever.

" Okay, I'm assuming I'm not liked here. " (Y/N) said, trying to figure out what is happening.

" What the hell are you on about?! We hate you. " Gordon said and (Y/N) didn't know how to feel.

" Can I ask what happened? " (Y/N) prompted.

" Why are you wearing a suit? Are you working with Batman? After everything you have done?! "

Okay... He is a villain then. Oh no. Oh God.

" What if I tell you I'm not from here? I'm from another universe. " (Y/N) said bluntly and Gordon looked at him in shock.

" What? "

" Yup. I know how it sounds, but back in my universe, I'm a good guy and Batman's kid. " (Y/N) tried to explain and Gordon lowered his gun.

" Oh God. " Gordon said, rubbing his face.

" Now that we have gone over this, can you explain to me what the hell happened? I want to know why you pointed a gun at me. " (Y/N) said, moving closer to Gordon.

" You are a villain. You would make Joker jealous. " Gordon said and (Y/N) couldn't keep his reaction in anymore.

" What? What do you mean would? " (Y/N) asked, tilting his head.

" Joker is dead here. I made sure he burned. Then you, well, the other version, if that's even correct term, stepped onto the Gotham scene. You made a lot of waves and Batman is probably working overtime in order to bring you to Blackgate. " Gordon said, rubbing his forehead.

" I want to ask what I've done, but honestly I don't want to know. " (Y/N) said, looking at the city skyline.

" How screwed is Gotham? " (Y/N) asked, looking down at the Wayne Enterprises, the highest point in Gotham.

" Very. With you in it, even more than usual. " Gordon explained and (Y/N) couldn't help but sigh.

" Oh God. "

Gordon was going to say something more, but a broadcast from the building nearby. It was him. With his family on their knees, masks off. What the fuck?

Oh God. This a public execution. (Y/N) paled. No, nononono- A shot after shot rang out and (Y/N) couldn't keep his tears in anymore. He covered his mouth with his hand, sniffling quietly.

What has he done? Oh God, what has he done? Gordon was silent, forcing himself to stay calm with a stoic look on his face.

(Y/N) fell down on his knees, forcing himself to breathe. Just breathe. He looked up and jumped back.

" Doctor Fate? " (Y/N) asked quietly, trying to get up.

" I'm here to help you get back home. Your father contacted me, telling what Klarion did to you. "

(Y/N) nodded, standing up. He felt so lightheaded.

" Gordon? " (Y/N) said, taking a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

" Yes? "

" Honor them. Please honor them. Don't let him win. " (Y/N) requested and Gordon nodded, eyes glassy.

" Thank you Gordon. " (Y/N) said, before allowing Doctor Fate to send him back to the same universe.

(Y/N) shuddered as he was back in his universe, falling down to his knees again. He noticed that he was in the Batcave and while he is relieved to be back home, he couldn't look Bruce in the eyes. Nor his brothers.

He brushed past everyone, making a run for the locker rooms. He basically ripped the suit of off him and made a run again for his room. His brothers shouted for him, but (Y/N) didn't hear it.

He locked his room and got under the covers. Nope. He is not leaving this room for the life of him. Not happening. Patrol and any other missions are going to be out of the question.

How can he work with them when he can't even look them in the eyes?

Bruce really wanted to know what happened, but Doctor Fate didn't have an answer. Bruce knew that he would need to talk to (Y/N), but that is not going to be easy when (Y/N) refuses to be anywhere near them.

Bruce could see that the others were worried. (Y/N) has never tried to distance himself from them.

" What do we do B? " Dick asked, crossing his arms.

" We have to talk to him. "

" You know, he was taking his suit off as if it burned him. " Damian chimed in, looking down at his crossed arms. Bruce sighed quietly, waving four of his sons forward. All of them shared a hug.

" We will find a way to talk to him. We will find out what has happened to him. " Bruce said, squeezing his sons a bit tighter. After he let them go, they were all a little bit emotional. Even Damian. Damian and (Y/N) are close and it hurt him when he ran passed everyone.

He knew that (Y/N) becomes withdrawn when he is upset or angry, but they confided in one another.

" We will find a way boys. We will find a way... " Bruce said, closing his eyes for a moment.

It has been a week since (Y/N) came back and the situation is alarming. (Y/N) closed himself in a room and didn't allow anyone to enter besides Alfred.

Alfred was trying to figure out what was happening with him, but (Y/N) closed himself off. He made so many walls, so many defenses on and Alfred wondered what could have traumatized his adopted grandson this much.

Bruce and everyone else knew that they had to take this head on and make an intervention. No one wanted to see (Y/N) spiral, but he is on a good way to spiral completely out of control.

They made sure that (Y/N) had left the room. They watched him to pinpoint the time when he would be in the kitchen. After they saw (Y/N) in the kitchen they all steeped in, blocking all the exit points.

" (Y/N), " Bruce started, trying not break as he took in the appearance of his son. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked so tired. So emotionally drained. " We are worried for you. We wanted to give you some time to come to us, but you are spiraling and I won't let you go down that path. " Bruce said, heart clenching at the panic in (Y/N)'s eyes.

" Talk to us please. " Bruce pleaded with (Y/N). He knew that (Y/N) was looking for a way out, but he couldn't let him out.

(Y/N) shook his head. Bruce isn't going to yell.

" (Y/N), please. You can tell us. We are here for you. You can confide in us. " Damian pleaded and (Y/N) started crying. Bruce was mortified as he watched his son break.

" I don't want to hurt you! I don't want to become like him! I don't want to! " (Y/N) cried out and Bruce quickly stepped closer to his son, allowing him to wrap himself around him and (Y/N) refused to let go.

" Tell us what happened. " Damian said, moving closer.

And (Y/N) did. Everyone was horrified at the story and they all hugged him.

" You are nothing like him. " Jason started.

" You won't turn into him. " Dick added.

" That version sounds like an asshole. " Tim said.

" I'm going to end him. " Damian chimed in, hugging his brother.

(Y/N) chuckled quietly as he was being squished. Even Alfred joined, giving him support too.

" Now, how about you eat something and then go to sleep? You look like you are going to pass out at any moment. " Dick said and Alfred led him to a table.

[primrosechronicles]

Sky Cotl x ISAT Fanfic!

Performance Guide and Siffrin (strictly platonic)

Summary: Rekindling bonds Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ISAT (?) Word count: 1951 PART 1 HERE

“Mom! Mom, hurry! The play is about to start!” You say, pointing towards the path leading to the Theater, where vibrant lights shine, the sounds of the people fill your ears as you feel your fate changing with each step you take towards the theater. 

You grab your Mom’s hand and hurriedly pull her towards the theater, she laughs at the action and taps your shoulder “Starlight, remember what the director told you? About patience?”

You nod excitedly “Yes I do! They said—” you clear your throat and try to emulate the Directors voice “‘For patience is key, the best performances come from those who take their time and let the magic unfold naturally.’” Your Mom giggles and ruffles your hair “That was pretty good! You’re really paying attention at those theater workshops huh?” 

You breathe in and out, the tension slowly begins to ease from your body. You look ahead at the Village Theater, its familiar silhouette becoming clearer with each step. Memories flood back—rehearsals, acting classes, script writing, shared laughter with your classmates, and the Director.

When you first step foot on the island, your memory of them becomes even more clearer with each step you took, and you honestly can't believe that your home was just mere seconds away.

Home.. Ha! That word seems so foreign to you now, you had a home before, but that was so long ago.. You don’t know what it's like anymore. You have a family, (not that you aren't grateful for them!) You love your found family, but that never really stopped that yearning feeling of wanting a family, a permanent home.

You stop walking, Do they even want you? Do they still consider you as family? You start to panic– what if they really don't want you? Oh stars, what if they hate you? You feel a large hand on your shoulder “Sif?” 

"Nervous?" Isabeau says softly, as if reading your thoughts. "Yea… it’s just, I haven't seen these people for so long, years… Decades! have passed for us, to them it’ll feel like only seconds, would they even recognize me? Would they still see me as family?” 

Recognizing your distress, your feelings buddy, Mirabelle, holds your hand. "Time may have passed, but family doesn't forget," she says reassuringly. "They'll recognize you. To them, you'll always be family.” 

“Just like we’ll always remember you Frin!” Bonnie buts in. “And, no matter how much time has passed, you’ll always be Family to us.” Odile added.

You smile and stay quiet, despite the reassurance of your family, it's still very nerve-wracking to you; you can’t stop the millions of thoughts racing through your mind. But, with your family with you, you know you’ll be okay. 

And so, with a very nervous heart, you all walk hand in hand towards the theater.

You see four people huddling around a person, from their body language, you assume they’re helping the Director— … “Director?”

They all snap their heads towards you, Your body trembles with anxiety; Lifting your leg to take a step feels so hard to do. it’s like all the strength from your body has disappeared. You try moving forward but it's as if a heavy boulder weighs you down. Stars! Why is this so hard? Harder than all the things you’re used to doing. because at least with those, you had some idea of what to expect. Now, you're stepping into the unknown, uncertain of what lies ahead. Bracing yourself, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

You see the Director staring back at you, their expression hidden by their penguin mask “H-hello..” you stutter, your voice breaking “do you all-.. Remember me?... I don’t know if you guys recognize me but uhm..” 

Your voice trembles and you avert your gaze from them. Your breath hitches in your throat. “I-I.. Used to take classes… here.. I’d tell you my name but… I guess I’ve forgotten my lines…” you chuckle pathetically.

“Astrophel…?” You look up, their mask now replaced with a quivering lip.

They move closer to you and wrap their arms around you “Director..” you whisper.

Stars… You haven't felt their embrace in ages; you can hardly remember the last time. It's almost unbelievable—here they are, holding you, and it's real. 

You start to hold on to them for dear life as you cry on their shoulder and your knees start to give out as your eyelids become heavy. You feel them carry you towards...

You slowly wake up, your eyes adjusting to the lights of the building. You find yourself on a makeshift bed made of pillows.

As you take in your surroundings, you see that you and your makeshift bed is beside the mini stage.

You gasp, you remember this stage! This is where the Musician held their music lessons! You laugh as you remember the Musician teaching an easy music sheet to play, but when it got to the actual recital, the Musician accidentally taught the wrong song to half the group, leading to a very chaotic performance. 

Sitting up, you gaze down at the floor below. You see Isabeau, Mirabelle and Odile conversing with the Director, nearby, little Bonnie is clumsily playing the kalimba on a table, using it as a makeshift stage. Despite the awkward notes, the rest of the performance crew cheer them on, clearly enjoying the impromptu performance.

You walk over to the table where the Director and others are at.

“Ah! Afternoon Astrophel! How was your nap?” The Director Asks. “Astrophel… Do they mean Siffrin?” “Maybe.. They look like an Astrophel.. I do wanna know what it means though " "You want to know everything about Siffrin, Isabeau…”

You notice that the Director has their mask on again and that they’re holding a book, you walk over to them and point at the book “What’s that?” 

The Director blinks at you “A book..?” “No- like.. What’s in the book?” 

“Oh! I was just showing your friends all the photos I took when you still attended my classes!”

….what.

“Siffrin! You were such a cute child back then!” Mirabelle exclaims.

What??

Odile asks “You seem to be wearing the same cloak as you did in these photos… do you even wash it..?” 

WHAT……….AND OF COURSE YOU WASH IT????????

“You look very edgy in your tween years though.. So much eyeliner” Isabeau observed, looking at the rest of the photos.

You lift the collar of your cloak to cover your face. Oh my stars! you can't believe he saw that…..

You see Bonnie walk up to where the Director is sitting “Frin when they were a baby? I wanna see!”

NOPE! You try to grab the book as fast as you can from the Director…but CURSE THIS HEIGHT DIFFERENCE! They’re hanging the book from right over your head!

The Director runs to the side of the table opposite from you. You run to the right side of the table; the Director goes the opposite way. And it becomes a game of cat and mouse. 

You fly over the table and he dodges.

“If you’re both gonna run then do it outside!” The Dancer shouts.

You see the Director give them a thumbs up before they bolt out the main entrance. Without hesitation, you run after them.

Exiting harmony hall you see them leaning on the building, book in hand. You try to get the book from their hand but they stop you.

The Director chuckles “Don’t worry, your emo phase is safe with me.”

“Then why even try showing it to them..?”

They think for a second “I… wanted to get an excuse to talk to you I guess.”

You blink at them in surprise. They raise their hands defensively. “You know, I find it awkward to ask people to talk. I know that sounds weird coming from me, but...”

They pause, then continue, “Even though my job needs me to communicate constantly, I struggle with initiating personal conversations. I always worry I'll come across as intrusive or awkward.”

You nod at that, finding what they said relatable. “Let's talk then?”

“Shall we go to Hermit Valley? I remember that little piece of land you liked to go to when you wrote your plays.”

You both land gently on the giant rock that sits in the middle of the sea of clouds. Before you, the sky is filled with the colors of the setting sun, casting a warm, golden glow across the ethereal landscape. You hear the sound of their mask drop to the ground.

“The sky looks so different now that those… shades..? Are here.” “Colors.”

You look at them; you see them looking back at you “What..?” “That “shade” is called a color Astrophel… or would you prefer Siffrin?”

“Oh! Uh.. Astrophel is fine…”

They nod and turn their gaze back to the sunset. 

A peaceful silence envelops both of you. You feel the urge to speak, knowing that's what they wanted. After a long moment of contemplation, they finally break the silence.

"I've missed moments like this," they say softly. “I remember when your mother used to have me babysit you… we used to go here.” They gesture to the rock.

They sigh “It feels like yesterday you were only thirteen.. But… It also felt like I was in that void for an eternity.”

“....thirteen years,” The Director blinks at you. “What..?”

“The… island has been gone for thirteen years.” you repeat.

The Director's eyes widen in shock and disbelief, and they stare at you, trying to process the words. "Thirteen years..." they whisper, the weight of lost time settling heavily in the air between you.

You take a deep breath, and exhale slowly, gathering your thoughts. As you begin to speak, the words come hesitantly at first, but soon they flow with the tide of pent-up emotions.

“I remember the day the island disappeared," you start, your voice barely above a whisper. "I… foolishly ran away from home because… I didn’t want to eat my vegetables…” you cringe “I.. wanted to scare my parents a bit… So I took my dads boat and then sailed a few feet from shore, then… I just saw it disappear.”

You glance at the Director “In the aftermath, I could not remember anything related to this place…”

“One day…” you continue “I saved these three people from a very strong monster. Because of that, they asked me to join them to save their country… and I did.. Because I had nothing better to do. Little did I know that these people will become.. My rock just like this one” you chuckle, patting the surface beneath you.

You pause, taking another deep breath, feeling the weight of your next words. “And then, there were the loops. They helped a lot at first… but when we beat the King… I realized that I was trapped. Everything after that was just me doing horrible stuff to get out of my horrible situation. Time became a relentless, unyielding cycle.”

Tears well up in your eyes, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s been thirteen years, and so much that i remember has changed. I’ve missed you so much. I'm so sorry to have forgotten— no… to have abandoned you.”

The warmth of their embrace envelops you. You feel their heartbeat, it reminds you that you are present in this moment; you lean in, crying into their shoulder. “Don't say sorry… you couldn't have known that the island would disappear…” You hear them sniffle. “And I’m so sorry I wasn't there for you… you shouldn't have gone through that.. The King.. The loops.. Having to fend for yourself at such a young age…” 

The two of you sit there, your bond now rekindled. The silence that follows is not empty but filled with warmth. 

A/N: YAYYYYYYYYY PART TWO IS FINISHED AFTER DAYS OF PROCRASTINATING!!!!

ugdhjdkjdxcnzkxjz this was so fun too write...

i was ubering people today and told them about my ifc... they asked for the link and they said theyll read it for their bed time story JKDAKDKNANKJX

aaaaaaaaaaaaand tysm for @kyri45 for being an inspiration! LOVE YOUUUUUUUUU

[ozmatippetarius]

I've been wanting for a while to write a post on how their animal interests are used to characterize the two Mitsubas, and specifically the meaning of the penguin/isopod-keychain sequence within the current storyline, because I think it's so fascinating.

On one hand, you could consider their mutual love of animals to be a unifying point between the two characters, a commonality. On the other hand, we're actually given a very distinct set of taste profiles between the two. Namely:

Sousuke fucking loved bugs

They're shown on multiple occasions to be one of his favorite subjects to photograph, where it's also established that he only photographs things he likes. Sousuke couldn't get enough of the creepy-crawlies.

Contrast, No.3tsuba. If it skitters, he does not want it.

No.3tsuba's favorite animals are bunnies: traditionally cute, universally loveable, nonthreatening. (If you feel like a bit of psychoanalysis... exactly the image he wants for himself.)

This brings us to the keychain sequence from the aquarium. No.3tsuba tries the gacha machine and gets... a giant isopod. Based on what we know of Sousuke's tastes, he absolutely would have loved it. But No.3tsuba is not thrilled.

Kou's reaction: "You like penguins, right? It's yours, then. This one's better, right?" i.e. 'You don't have to accept what fate's handed you if it's not in your interest (even if it happens to be in the interest of the boy you used to be/have been impersonating, sort of).' It's a major life-affirming (err... existence-affirming) moment.

Of course, just minutes later...

That physical emblem of 'No.3tsuba can have the things he wants, actually' gets shattered, in a particularly on-the-nose piece of symbolism, and then within a dozen chapters No.3tsuba's been both murdered and retconned out of existence, replaced with the original Sousuke (who would have preferred the isopod keychain).

... anyway, I just find it very interesting, a very well done method of characterization and symbolism/foreshadowing (if... depressing)

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Which of the Gotham rogues do you think would be into marking their partner? Which ones do you think are more into PDA and showing off their partner, and which ones are more private?

Would love to hear your HCs for all of them ❤️.

"Showing off" Rogues Party

OH HELLO? MARKING AND PDA HM? Sorry this took so long, but better late than never!

TW: NSFW, marking, degradation, somnophilia, biting, knife play, needle play, collars, spanking

Riddler

Somewhere mid- on the scale of marking. He enjoys it, but it's not a necessary kink for him. In the case of his partner being into marking and encouraging him, he would get into a lot of theatrics for it. Talking sweet and dirty to you as he leaves an imprint of his teeth. Taking a green sharpie and writing a question mark on your hip because he thinks he's cute.

One thing that would get him going is seeing the imprint of ropes or ties on you. Nothing that cuts into you deeply, but seeing those marks after a session of tying you up... the intricacies of patterns pressed into your skin, even if it's brief. He wants to drag his lips across it.

He's obnoxiously into PDA. Despite the fact that he doesn't like touching by anyone else, he's terrible about it when it comes to you- Unless you ask otherwise. Taking a moment just to kiss you, not caring who sees. Hanging off of you when you're talking to someone else. See, everyone who thought he was too annoying and made up his partner, here they are! In the flesh! He's making sure everyone knows you're dating. And that anyone who tries to get at him through you will encounter a fate worse than death :)

Penguin

Oswald likes biting- HOWEVER, it's a ton of light grazing because his teeth are actually sharp and he doesn't want to hurt you. Plus, he likes your skin as it is. Light scars but nothing that will stay longer than a couple weeks. He will dirty talk it up though in the heat of the moment.

He'll pick out your outfits and things that have an obvious insignia or "Cobblepot colors" of white, black and purple. Garter stockings/thigh harness with jewelry he bought you that people can only see when you flash your leg a certain way. If nothing else, he'd ice you out with a choker if that's more your thing. He would also pay for a tattoo- nothing crazy, but a symbol on your thigh or hip that's meant to represent him.

Showing off his partner is part of the deal. He's an incredibly public figure and he doesn't intend on hiding the fact that someone really cares about him. That and the fact that you fuck. His hands linger over your ass or thighs in a way that tells everyone else you're taken, which is a form of marking on it's own. He also likes public sex or at minimum public messing around, even if he would make sure to cover you up if you were ever caught.

Mad Hatter

IRONICALLY, for him being as kinky as he is, he wouldn't like marking with his teeth or hands. Into marking in the sense of clothing. Matching decor- themes. You two walk into a room and it's obvious you are Together. If he ever did mark your skin in a lasting way, he'd be the first one to kiss it. Terribly sorry, dear, he couldn't help it. You're far too lovely for him to resist. It would turn into a praise session for how beautiful you are.

The ONLY exception to not liking to leave marks is with somnophilia and even then, he'd ask you first if it was okay/part of the play for you. Him being so cautious to not even wake you up, using your body to his whims and the only sign when you wake up is a pleasant soreness and little marks on your hips or thighs.

Yes and no. He wants people to know the two of you are together but he does have a sense of being chaste in public. If you initiate, he'll gladly reciprocate the affection you give him. The clothing mentioned would likely be enough to clue people in, anyways. If someone made him jealous or got too close to you, however, he'd suddenly get a lot touchier and in your space. He likes the idea or perception of him being a gentleman despite his dabbling in psychedelics and mind control.

Scarecrow

The psychological effects of marking alone makes it a fascinating thing for Jonathan. I've mentioned it before, but sex to him is yet another avenue to analyze you and your mind through behavior. What satisfaction does it give you to be "owned" by him? To have other people see that you're "his" by the marks he leaves upon your skin? It's a very fun thing for him to sink his teeth into, metaphorically and literally.

Usually his idea of marking is using his nails on your skin, leaving scratches that bloom in light inflammation after the moment is gone. Lines he can run his fingers over in the following days. It doesn't show to anyone besides him really, but he's also fond of spanking. Leaving little marks by his hands or a tool that you'd have to wiggle in front of a mirror or get a photo of to see.

Not big on PDA. This is a man who grew up having to hide a lot of facets about himself so he wouldn't be a target to bad things. Then it was the second persona of the Scarecrow. He's very private in the day to day outside of certain people. You'd find he's much more likely to kiss you in front of fellow rogues, for example. He would get you something small as a gesture to show off your "engagement" i.e. relationship to him, however, a small ring, necklace or a bracelet sort of thing.

Music Meister

He would feel bad. He sees that he gave you a bruise on your thigh when he grabbed you in bed and he's apologizing when he sees it. He has an incredibly soft and romanticized idea of sex so he doesn't try to get rough in the first place. You'd have to ease him into it and make it a sort of scenario. He'd be careful still, but you might get something out of it. Reassure him it's alright and that you like it.

A type of marking he would do, though, without much prompting, is physical marker writing. Ticking off the amount of times he's made you moan on your thighs. A little note here or there for you to find later. A song lyric because he has ADHD and got distracted- well. You shouldn't be shocked.

PDA and showing off, though? He's making an entire musical number to announce your arrival. Clarence is having you in dance routines for his heists. Everyone is going to know that you are together. If you were looking for privacy, you should not have gone for the theater kid. Lots of public kissing, hand holding and his arm around your body.

Victor Zsasz

ooooooo fucking boy.

#1 the guy you would look at for marking. If you can handle the fact that he's a freak and not really a nice guy, he'll mark you every which way you can imagine. Literal markers, his hands, his nails, his teeth, needles, knives, actually carving his initials into you- If you're game, he'll do it. Make you bleed while making sure you're not passing out on him or getting too injured. He'd "mark" his gun or knife handle by fucking you with it so he's always got "you" around when he's working.

Would write "cum dump" on your abdomen with drawn hearts if you're into that. He'll even take pictures of you like that, bound and gagged and stuffed with his cum for a spank bank later. If you've ever seen the intricate "needle art" some people will do (with sterile equipment), he would. If you don't at least have a couple bruises after going with him, he doesn't think he's properly fucked you.

He's... disgusting, really. He'll spit in your mouth in public to show off how good you are for him if you'd allow it. Collar and a leash, make you pant on his leg and beg for it. In more refined, appropriate settings, he would push it by huffing about wanting a kiss. In certain crowds he'd be more private for your protection. Because in his own twisted little way, he does care.

Killer Croc

Marking is something he got into over the years because it's very difficult for him not to mark up a partner by accident. It took a while to get there emotionally/psychologically since it definitely fed into this fear of him being a monster that only hurts people. Then as the condition got worse, people generally lost interest unless they had a fetish which just... no. As he came to acceptance with his entire thing, the marking kink sort of fell into place.

Yet, he's still careful as he drags his claws up the plush of your thighs, holding you close to kiss him. It's not terribly hard for him to make someone bleed, after all. Where it might be more difficult to restrain himself funny enough, is if his partner is holding all the control and he gets REALLY in the moment. You could be ordering him around, he's with it, and he's also biting your shoulder hard enough to leave a blemish.

He doesn't dislike PDA, but he won't really initiate. There isn't a particular reason for it. It's just not really his style. He thinks it's really cute if you want to hang off his arm or kiss him around other people, though. It's very validating for him. One way or another, people are going to know the two of you are together if it's by conversation or him playfully hoisting you on his shoulder as you head home.

Harley Quinn

It's actually not a kink of hers, it's rather something that just kind of happens because she gets really enthusiastic. If anything, she winces if she sees too many bruises on you, kissing softly as a way of showing her apologies. There was a time she loved seeing those on her own body because of what they meant- Now it's a grim reminder. Side note: if you guys play spar it's a slight exception, this is related specifically to sex/romantic relationship things.

That all being said, she adores being with you and pretty much all displays of affection being with you. It's not shocking to literally anyone who ever saw her when she was with the Joker. She has a penchant for pet names and grandiose gestures of her affection. She's the one who walks up to a carnival game and the guy working there thinks they'll take her money- and she walks away with the biggest stuffed animal for you.

Sometimes you'll look over at her when you're out together and you'll notice she's just looking at you with hearts in her eyes. Holding you and being held by you in those movie theaters where you can push up the arm rests. Sharing a drink and food. Everyone in Gotham knows.

Poison Ivy

Only likes it in the sense of rough play. Similar to Harley, doesn't aim for it. Just happens. Bruises from being bound. Scratches from messing about around her plants or her perfect nails. Doesn't really use her teeth for much, however. Given how her saliva can have an effect on people even when she doesn't mean to via an oral route, she would not want to risk it getting into your bloodstream. It's a "just in case" safety precaution.

The exception to intentional marking is if it's part of dominating play and it's something her partner is seeking out. Even then, it's more about clothing to put you in a position of "hers". For example, collars, clothing with tight straps, etc etc. You want people to know you're hers, baby? Why don't you tell them yourself?

Yes and no on PDA. When someone is under her thrall, she loves big displays because it shows the power she has over them. With you, her partner, she's actually more demure. A small kiss on the cheek or the lips, pulling you close and holding your hand as you walk in the park. She has a thing for sex outside or at least in nature, but she tends to pick areas that are more secluded to prevent people from peeking in. If anyone asks, however, she'll never deny you're her person. Let there be no doubt about that.

Two-Face

Complicated. Harvey still struggles with it because in his mind, that's something horny teenagers or early 20-somethings do. It's not professional, it's could be potentially embarrassing for your partner. Sure, it's fun in the moment but- Harv is already telling him to shut up, it's hot. It's a sign of passion, of wanting someone so bad your teeth mark them because you could devour them whole! Who wouldn't be into that?!

If Harvey got into it, it would be things you can easily hide under your clothing. Hickeys and little bruises where his hands held tightly. He feels... kind of naughty doing it? It's fun, though! Harv dives full-force into it, intentionally leaving little marks where he knows it'll drive Harvey's boy scout routine crazy. They both like seeing it on your body, there's just a disagreement on admitting it.

Something they can both agree on 100%, however, is showing you off as their partner. Clothing that has a "duality" theming to it so you match with them. A hand that depending on the current controller is high on your back or dancing low just above the curve of your ass, fingers resting in the hip dip. Sometimes they like to steal kisses when you least expect it, just so others can see your reaction go from surprise to a warm smile.

Black Mask

He'd make you show other people or, at minimum, tell you to wear things that would show off exactly where he marked you up. Teeth marks, hickeys, bruises, the occasional knife play- It gets him off to watch you pull up your shirt or skirt to show off something he's done to your body. Like it's a badge of honor to have Roman Sionis leave a reminder on you of your past transgressions.

Collars. He will get you a collar for every different occasion and outfit if you want. It doesn't have to strictly be a collar, either. Just something you wear that everyone sees as his "ownership" over you. If you guys have gotten to a serious note, he wouldn't mind matching tattoos, either. Something small and subtle on your hands or wrist. After all, you're together for the rest of your natural lives, right? It's not like it's that different from a wedding ring.

He would have sex in public or at least around other people if you were down, if that answers your question. He'll kiss you, grope you, pull you into his lap whenever it pleases him. It could be egregious enough that someone might be confused that you're just a toy for gratification vs something serious. He'd knock the teeth out of anyone who said that about you around him.

Mr. Freeze

Unintentional when he marks up his partner. Yet when he kisses for a lingering amount of time... there is a frost build up. It's certainly not permanent- it's like a powder of fresh snow was left on your shoulder. Even if he was into it, per say, he would worry about intentionally trying to mark a partner with his own body. Given his condition that could lead to skin or even muscle damage!

He's certainly more private, but he's not against PDA. A lot of how he shows affection is just subtle and not about physical touch. Ensuring you're bundled up while in his work space that inevitably gets frozen over. You're eating all your meals and when you're sick you can rest.

People are going to know you're with him without "showing off" simply because it's apparent that he cares for you. For one, he actually keeps you around. Two, if anything threatened to get between you, he'd be getting suddenly very hostile...

Ra's al-Ghul

Actively against PDA and showing you off. Getting handsy and kissing a lot in public makes you a target. It paints him as someone with a very visible weak point. Marking would be something private. Only you can see it, i.e. it's under the clothing. So writing, a stray scratch or bruise- Having very apparent signs that the two of you fuck or that you "belong" to him in a sense, however, is different.

For one thing, you are either in his quarters or directly next to him. If you ever go out without him, you have a trail of spies behind you for your protection. Some might say it's like living in a gilded bird cage. To others it's a significant show of respect and intimacy that the incredibly secretive Ra's al-Ghul wants you to know him inside and out.

You will wear clothing that is befitting to your status as his partner. Golden jewelry, either an arm band or something around the neck- green like his robes for any gemstones. He'll kiss the skin as he puts these pieces on you himself. Much of this isn't marking in the "traditional" sense, but people will surely know that you are his partner.

Bane

On the fence. On one end, he doesn't want to like it because he's not the brute that people want to think he is. His entire identity is not that of a violent criminal despite what the world has made him. And yet... there is something visually pleasing about seeing a sign of where he's been along your skin. It's not dissimilar to shows of strength with you. Little bruises where you asked him to go rougher, to grab you tighter. A slight indent of his teeth on your shoulder.

Other than that, he does not like the idea of hurting you. Anything where he's intentionally marking you up is off the table. He doesn't really go for fashion. He doesn't want to write on you (it feels strangely disrespectful to him). Asking him to cause you harm (even minor and in play) is an incredible turn-off.

He likes being affectionate in public, however, he is strict on when and where. He works with dangerous people. He has a mind for strategy- you could be another pawn piece for someone if the two of you are too affectionate in the wrong crowd. Amongst his true peers or, say, your family or friends? Completely different, he's kissing your neck to make you laugh and hugging you close.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Future mini-series and one-shot plans ✨️

I've got a few ideas for one-shots and fics to tide yall over until the smut hits in "Twist of Fate". 👀

I've already got a small, spin off mini-series of ToF called "Strings of Fate" (name pending), a whole bunch of hybrid one-shot series, a Fated/Soulmate one-shot series, a Tropes mini-series, a cam girl one-shot series, an android (based on Detroit become human) one-shot series, a fairy tale one-shot series, possibly a professors one-shot series, possibly a super heroes one-shot series, some possible OT2 (threesomes) and OT3 (foursomes) with not a single idea in mind, and some one-shots regarding the boys' myth 5 star cards!

I'll be explaining them below the cut! 🩷

So yall can let me know which you would like to see first, I'll tell you what I've got so far with each of them! Since I'm, also, completely unsure which I want to work on or if I want to change the idea entirely. Maybe yall will have some thoughts on how I can work the ideas a bit better as well!

I can't say much on the spin-off since it's major spoilers for ToF and, so, I'll probably start it after I get up to 25 or 30 chapters in posting ToF.

The hybrid ideas though...I have a lot. I got most of these (if not all of these ideas besides the hybrid ones) from my scrapped BTS fic ideas so if I decide to write BTS ones, you might see some overlapping.

Oh right, let me explain Hybrids for those who might not know. They're basically like nekos, think of those hot cat girls in anime. They're humans with animal parts or characteristics!

But anyway, the first section is "Prey Hybrids". I have Rafayel down as an axolotl, Xavier as a frosty Holland lop rabbit, Sylus as either a sika deer or a tufted deer (both are native to south asia and I have no idea which one to use), and Zayne as a Black Beauty sugar glider.

Next section is "deadly hybrids". I have Rafayel under Great White Shark (they have two penises so I could use this in the story), Xavier as a Grey Wolf (wolves can knot 👀), Sylus as a melanistic tiger, and Zayne is a leopard seal. Now, I'm not sure how I'll make Zayne into a leopard seal hybrid, I was going to use a snow leopard but...I have a "polar hybrid" section coming up soon and also I didn't want two big cats in one part.

Now, we're onto "domesticated hybrids" so think of your cats, dogs, any animal that humans have thought "hey, that'd be a good pet" fits here. Rafayel is a calico koi fish (still undecided here), Xavier is a Corgi (I thought golden retriever but I didn't want to say the obvious), Sylus is a black smoke Maine Coon, and Zayne as an Agouti Husky.

"Uncanny Hybrids" is our next category and for uncanny, I wanted to do hybrids that not a lot of people write for. Like you usually see cats, dogs, octopi, sharks, squid, and stuff like that so I wanted to do the ones that not many people would do and that's difficult. Rafayel would be a chevrotain (which is a mouse deer with little fangs), Xavier would (fittingly) be a sloth, Sylus would be a vampire bat, and Zayne would be a Kangaroo (I might swap Sylus and Zayne but do note that Kangaroo have two penises as well; and I have no idea how to explain to my FBI agent just why my search history is filled with stuff like this but I must do my research for stories 😞).

Two more categories. We have "Polar hybrids" as mentioned earlier and "Mythological Hybrids".

For the polar ones, Rafayel is an arctic fox, Xavier is a penguin, Sylus is a snow owl, and Zayne is a polar bear!

As for the mythological, it's half unfinished. I only have Rafayel as a kitsune and Sylus as a cerberus/hellhound hybrid with Y/n being the daughter of Hades.

The Fated/Soulmate series! I'm unsure what to call this exactly. I might have it under "Fated mini-series" but it's going to be four different one-shots with each of the guys under a different soulmate trope. So you can give me feedback about this as well or even comment something you'd want to see instead or even help add upon the idea itself!

Rafayel's soulmate trope would be the "colourblind until you touch" trope. Where everyone is colourblind until you meet your soulmate but for an added twist, the first touch from your soulmate leaves an imprint wherever they touched. So, for example, Rafayel grabs your arm as you try to leave and it leaves a pretty, water-coloured imprint on your wrist. I think that would be a fitting and cute combination for Rafayel.

Xavier's soulmate trope would either be "dreams of a past life together", so you both dream of your past life and have to find the person in your dreams, or "at a young age, you can make something and send it to your soulmate. This item will be key in finding your soulmate as an adult." So, let's say you send Xavier the star sword tassel and he sends you a crystal (imagine the protocore he tries to give the mc in his anecdotes). Then, as adults, you see Xavier walking to class with the charm on his backpack while your grandma, Josephine, turned the crystal into a necklace. Edit; this has been changed to a "tattoo mark" appearing when making contact with your soulmate annnnd the guideverse (so think espers and guides)

Zayne's is, by far, my favourite idea. It's "once you touch your soulmate, you get opposing evols". So similar to "opposites attract". You're childhood friends with Zayne and for some reason (spoilers), you wear gloves so you can touch anyone. Zayne also wears gloves in solidarity with you but, one day, he forgets his gloves and catches you when you slip. His hands touch your bare elbows and suddenly, he has an ice evol and yours is fire. For some extra angst, fire is traumatic for you and so is the thought of soulmates.

Sylus's is more of a funny idea than anything. A "tangible red string of fate" so similar to the evol linkage in game. He can drag you around with it and everything. It gets more visible and stronger the more you think about the other person, so at first its barely even noticeable and he can't move you with it. But soon, he can literally drag you out with him and you can play a funny game of tug-of-war with it. Edit; I really want to change this one so i might hold a voting for it as well

I also had the fleeting idea of grumpy x sunshine but that's more of a "trope" than a soulmate trope.

I also have another good fate idea for Rafayel, a stand-alone one. This soulmate au would be "your soulmate is from another world and you get dreams of their day-to-day life. You must decide if you'll cross over to their world by your 23rd birthday and, if you choose not to, you'll lose your connection to them." In this au, Rafayel would be the God of the Sea and you would be an average person. Rafayel would be more than willing to leave his life for his soulmate but as the last God of the Sea...You end up making the decision for him.

The Tropes mini-series;

So this one is a four-shot with an accumulation of tropes. So each LADS boy will have a one-shot of a different trope. Like friends to lovers, rivals to lovers, etc.

I could've went the obvious route and chose Zayne or Xavier as childhood friends to lovers but I didn't want the easy way out to be honest.

The trope I chose for Rafayel is "amnesia". You've lost your memory and woke up in the hospital with a man seated next to you. His hand desperately gripping your own as if he were a balloon about to fly away. "Uh...hello?" You ask, your throat feeling dry as if you hadn't spoken in weeks. "Y/n!?" The man jerks awake with wide eyes. Tears flood his waterline and he gently cups your face. You can feel his hands trembling and you tilt your head to the side, confused, "Are you...my boyfriend?" "What-" Rafayel looked confused, but it only takes a few seconds before he nods, "Yes. I'm Rafayel, your boyfriend."

In actuality, you're his bodyguard and you got injured trying to protect him. He lies to you because he doesn't want you to put yourself in danger for him anymore.

Edit; this one has since been changed to "love at first sight" + reincarnation + slight enemies to lovers

Xavier's trope is a complete flip on what you would originally expect. I chose "rivals to lovers" for him, just because I had a small idea where he could be a lightseeker and you would be the other faction. (I forgot the names of the knights on Philo, they're from Xavier's lightseeker myth if you're confused) But you also get annoyed with Xavier because he keeps putting off his princely duties. Annnnd it would be funny to call him "Princess". I have since changed mind and Xavier's "Pragma(tic) Love" is out now!

Zayne's trope is also not "friends to lovers". Instead I thought "forbidden love". This one is a bit of a stretch and I can tweak it if it's unliked but this would be a fantasy au where Zayne is from the Kingdom of Linkon and he's a saint blessed by Astra (the God from his Forseer myth) and you are a princess from the Kingdom of Philo. You were blessed by the Goddess Lux (I made her up and her name means light) and you've come to Linkon's Kingdom to possibly marry their prince, Greyson (I didn't want to use a love interest for this role), and unite the kingdoms. Instead you, a princess from a kingdom who doesn't believe in Astra, and Zayne, a follower of Astra, fall in love. Also, Zayne's powers cannot affect you because of Lux's blessing, which gives you the ability to resonate (make other's powers stronger), heal, and create a ball of light so hot that it feels like fire itself. Edit; this one has been changed to "brother's best friend" <3

Now, Sylus is our friends to lovers! A modern au friends to lovers where your mother is a top operative in Onychinus, a crime syndicate led by Sylus's parents. You meet while young (but not too young) and have a seven year age gap. You've always had a crush on Sylus, since you were little, and Sylus possibly does but he avoids thinking about it because of your age difference. At 30, he feels like he's way too old for you, at 23 in this. Now, to not make it weird, your mother passes away and you're sent to your grandma, Josephine's to live a better life away from all the crime. You grow up there from highschool, all the way until college when disaster strikes. On your way home for springbreak with Caleb, your friend- who your grandmother took in, your home explodes. The blast kills both Caleb and your grandma. This was clearly an attack by a rival gang and Sylus steps in to take you back to Onychinus.

Edit; this one has been changed as well, I'm unsure of what just yet though, but there's a voting for what it could be! (Sept 2, 2024)

I hope you guys aren't tired of this by now! But either way, I'll keep going since I'm not done yet. I just wanna put my ideas out there and figure out which I should be working on as I post my weekly chapters for "Twist of Fate".

The next category is the "camgirl" mini-series. This one was a must-have to add because I've read so many BTS camgirl one-shots and loved them so much. I doubt any of the four guys would ever want their love on camera for everyone to see but they might not mind as much if they're on screen with her...

So for Sylus, I already have a name. I came up with it at work- "Welcome to the Puppet Show".

The idea is as follows, "Sylus strings you up like a puppet with his evol during one of your weekly cam-sessions." That's it. That's all I got.

For the rest, Xavier's would be the usual. He's your childhood friend and he recently gifted you a necklace for your birthday. His friend, Jeremiah, tells him about this camgirl website and jokingly shows him a few videos. After this, Xavier has been watching your lives for a while now until he notices something peculiar in today's session. You're wearing the necklace he gave you. He instantly knows it's you because he got the necklace custom made and he confronts you about it.

Rafayel is a tattoo artist and he recently gave you a tattoo. It was a pretty unique one so he'd never forget what it looked like, especially where you had it done. A cute, little koi fish ying-yang under your breast. He sees the tattoo in one of your cam-sessions and I'm not sure how you would meet up after that, if I'm honest so let's move on to Zayne.

Zayne is your partner during your cam-shows. He's your close friend from school and once he learnt of your cam-shows, he casually offers to be a part of them for when your fans get tired of your solo lives. He's always only lent a hand, never actually fucking you. Neither on camera nor off. But on your final live, you ask him to fuck you. This is your final live because you're planning on confessing your feelings for him afterward.

Now, we're onto the most unsure one of all; the Android mini-series.

The Android mini-series is, once again, solo one-shots compiled into a series. This series was heavily taken from an old bts mini-series I had. Like Rafayel's would've been Taehyung's (his model would've been the Vante KTH7-1230), Xavier's would've been Jimin's (his model would've been PJM7-1013), Zayne's would've been Namjoon's (his model being Holmes 2.0 KNJ7-0912), and Sylus's would've been Yoongi's (his model being OG Holmes MYG7-0309). So, I might change Zayne and Sylus's models because I might want to write this idea for bts in the future, but just let me know if you want to see it and I'll make some changes!

For Rafayel's, you were fully colourblind when you were younger but you were deadset on becoming an artist. Your grandma, Josephine, had always wanted the best for you so she worked many days of overtime at her job until she could finally afford a corrective surgery- but only for one eye. You've gotten the surgery, which was replacing your original eye with an android one so now you have one e/c (eye colour) eye and one magenta eye. Later on in life, you were finally in college for an art degree and your professor gifts you his old android. A Delaux model (the model is named after a famous artist who painted mermaids) with the ID number RF04-0306. The Delaux model of androids are used to help artists with colour correction and matching, give input on what would sell best or look more appealing to buyers, and even give an artist ideas for artworks or create compelling backstories that their artwork could be based upon. All Delaux androids have unnatural coloured hair since it's against their coding to have nature hair because it's normal and therefore boring for such an artsy android model. Rafayel is the only Delaux model with his hair colour.

Next up is Xavier. He's a Lux model android with the ID XV04-1016. Lux model androids are primarily used as an assist for the military and police force as replacements for the K-9 unit, so they're lithe and light on their feet. These models always have blonde or silver hair if they work for the police and black hair if they're affiliated with the military. If they have any different hair colour, then the Lux model is considered defective and is terminated. These models cannot be kept by the public because they're a higher caliber of android, unless they are protecting a rich client. For your story, you find him in an alleyway or maybe a garbage dump and he's half destroyed. You decide to bring him home to your mechanic shop (your home is above the shop) to repair him. Once your power him on, he remembers nothing so you decide to keep him around- almost as if he's a stray dog. Also, in this story, you have an android arm. For this one, I'm 100% sure if I want him to be a military android but it makes sense for him. It was either this or a sex worker android and I feel like that doesn't fit with him..

Zayne is a Holmes 2.0 model android with the ID number ZY04-0905. The one and only Holmes model in existence since the last one was shut down because it was ruled compromised (or deviant) after a various amount of tests. The Holmes model is a less animalistic version of the Lux model; These androids are more intuitive and less likely to instigate conflict. Black hair is their only choice of hair colour, anything else and they will be decommissioned. In this, you are a damn good detective. The best there ever was...until your accident. You miscalculated an explosion radius during your last big mission and it costed you big time. You ended up losing both an arm and a leg. Your boss (the chief of police) compensated you for your injuries. He provided you with an android arm and leg to replace what you had lost and a brand new Holmes 2.0 model android to be your little sidekick for the next few months, until you can get used your new limbs. This would be his first official test run before the EVER corporation created more of his model. But you hated it. You felt useless to your team and you felt less human with your new android add-ons. You pretty much took out your anger on your newly acquired android because they gave you an android to solve a problem that an android caused in the first place! Damn defective android almost killed you, all because it "didn't want to die". I love the premise of this but Holmes doesn't fit with Zayne's aesthetic. I can always swap him to a medical assistance android where Y/n has a heart condition and Zayne is her android that takes care of her but it's up to yall! If I change Zayne, I have to change Sylus's though because their models go hand in hand for the story.

And lastly, we have Sylus. He...can't remember his model name but he knows his ID number, SL04-0418. Though, every time he looks up his ID number, he gets no results. Nothing. It's almost as if his model never existed or...it was decommissioned. That would mean he's defective and he doesn't want to admit that. He doesn't want to be shut down. After searching, he soon learns that he might be the original Holmes model but...it's not like he can just ask anyone, they'd shut him down if he asked..right?

You have worked in the big, shiny and glaringly white EVER corporation building for years at this point, creating and customizing many androids that are constantly in every day use. You painstakingly detailed everything about these androids from their faces to even their personalities and the very first Holmes model was no exception. You grew very close to this android during the years of designing and creating him, you even gave him a name. Sylus. He was one of your favourites, out of all of your creations, and...he was decommissioned. You honestly never thought you'd see him again until you were brought in to shut him down and you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You had loosely based his looks on an old friend whom you had a one-sided crush on. From his hair to his eyebrows, his physique and even the scar on his chest. You were able to take full creative liberties with the very first Holmes model android because, well, it was the first in existence. But now, he's just called a failed prototype. You made him too...human. Too independent and strong willed. This wasn't the designated personality for a Holmes model android and this ultimately led to a cop becoming gravely injured on Sylus's first mission. The negligence caused by your own hand haunts your every day because you could've killed someone. It would've been your fault, after all. But now with that android, your android, standing right in front of you once more...You can't seem to let him go. You can't lose him, not for a second time. You're willing to throw your whole job away to protect him, sick and tired of androids being treated horribly just because they're becoming self aware and more human. So again, let me know if you like this idea and if you do, I hope you won't mind if I end up re-hashing it when I possibly make my bts android mini-series <3 because I genuinely can't think of anything that works with Sylus. Nothing else really makes sense but I'm also unsure of how the story would go with this one 🤔

I think we're at the half-way point! This is where it goes downhill to be honest. The only good one here is the first one, I feel, but if I thought about it more, I'm sure I'd find better ideas for the other guys.

Rafayel's fairy tale story is quite obvious. It's "The Little Mermaid" but flipped. You would be Eric and Rafayel would be Ariel, however Eric would be the one wanting to be part of Ariel's world. You've seen him in the ocean multiple times from your beach house. Honestly, the first time you saw him, you thought he was drowning but then you saw the beautiful purple and blue tail fin that adorned his lower half. He was...a mermaid? Every day for a few weeks, you'd take some time out of your day just to watch him breach the surface and play around with the seagulls. He would sometimes sit atop driftwood and large boulders in the ocean. He was a sight to behold. And then, he began to take notice of you. Eventually, the two of you begin engaging in conversation- but not before he accuses you of wanting to fillet him like a fish. As the two of you grow close and he tells you stories about his home, Lemuria, you decide you want to be a part of his world. You find a traveling witch and she gives you an ultimatum. You can become a mermaid to live with Rafayel but you must give something up equal in return. Now, the tricky part is, I'm not sure what I want for Y/n to lose. I don't want it to be her voice, her eyesight, her emotions, so I'm thinking maybe she gains a heart condition so she can be with him but not for a long time. Though, this heart condition can be cured with an act of passion. An action that would tug on anyone's heart strings would be enough to snap the strings of Y/n's heart back into place. Also some mermaids are depicted with two penises so...Yeah!

Xavier's is yet another obvious one. I decided to go with "Sleeping Beauty" but I can always change it if I can find a better one. On the day the little prince was born, a warlock appeared and let out a cackle, "I shall curse the sole heir to Philo's throne. This kingdom has brought many sufferings to warlocks and witches alike and it shall be brought down by the prince himself!" The warlock, named Luminous (I came up with that on the spot but it's a parallel to Maleficent and Lumiere) also cursed the king and queen with infertility so they couldn't just have another child. And so, on Prince Xavier's 23rd birthday, Luminous reappeared and unsealed the curse upon the prince. Thorns erupted through the banquet hall, wrapping around the entire castle, and whomever was pricked by the thorns fell into a deep slumber. 50 years have passed since the kingdom of Philo fell into a deep slumber and you, a witch who was also childhood friends with the prince, decide to sneak into the castle and plunder it for any treasures it may hold. While searching, you prick your finger on a thorn and panic, thinking you will also succumb to the curse. However, you don't. This could be because you're a witch or because you're just the protagonist. Either way, this leads you to believe that you could wake Xavier up and this option would pave the way for more money in the future so it's your best opportunity for some quick wealth. As you head over to Xavier, pondering on how you could wake him up, you end up tripping over something on the floor and you land on top of him. Your lips crashing into his and you can taste your own blood. Congrats, you've awoken sleeping beauty! :D

Sylus's story...I'm torn between "Rapunzel" and "The Beauty and the Beast". He's got the Flynn Ryder aesthetic but also the Beast's at the same time so once I come up with a storyline, I'll probably make my decision.

Zayne's is also another hard decision. I could go for the obvious "Frozen" or perhaps Mulan. I'll explain my Frozen storyline though since that's all I've got. So Zayne is Elsa and you have the power of fire. (I haven't seen Frozen 2 but I think there's a girl who wields fire in it?) You don't know that you have this power and you were a princess who was just banished from your Kingdom, Philo, due to the false charge of trying to murder your step mother, the queen. You were banished from your warm kingdom to a desolate, snowy forest in the Kingdom of Linkon. And here, you stumble upon Zayne's ice castle that he created with his powers. Now, the story behind your false charges is, your step mother went from a mistress to a queen after your mother passed away and your step mother got rid of you because she wants her son, the king's non-bilogical, to be next in line for the throne instead of you. So, instead of fighting your way to go back home, you convince Zayne to allow you to stay in his castle until the snow storm outside subsides and you can leave. Soon, you learn of your fire powers and Zayne offers to aid you in learning how to use them. Also, Zayne's younger brother Greyson (He is Ana here) and his girlfriend Yvonne (She is Kristoff) are the rulers of Linkon because Zayne locked himself away in the castle in fear that his powers would hurt someone.

Here's where the ideas get less and less detailed. This was another mini-series taken from my old bts ones and honestly, I might not even write these but I thought it would be nice to add them here just in case.

Zayne would be an English professor with you as his teaching assistant. Even though you're an assistant, you also do some classwork to bide your time when you're not busy and even turn it in to Zayne to have him 'grade' it. This week's essay for a romance essay and you decided to write a steamy little romance essay for fun and submit it to Zayne after class. A week passes by and you're worried he either saw it and didn't care or he's going to mention it when you leave expect it- which he does the latter. He's intrigued at how knowledgeable and intimate the scenes are, and questions if you've done something like this before. You respond that you're a virgin and Zayne asks, "Would you like to feel how your essay would play out?"

For Rafayel, I'd do the obvious choice of an Art Professor with you as his teaching assistant (you're always the teaching assistance because Professor x student feels a bit icky to me, just the power dynamic and everything. I'm not too into writing it). Anyway, he needs you to be a model for a painting but never tells you just what kind of model.

Sylus's could be a physical education professor, I'm not sure if that's even a type of professor? (I didn't go to college so I wouldn't know) but I'm on the fence about this one. I could base it loosely off of his boxing 5 star card.

Xavier would be the Theatre/Drama professor and he needs you to be his supporting actress for rehearsals. Maybe you both are participating in a big play with the students and you need to practice your lines?

Because these ones are specifically so short, I'm not going to add a break in-between. It feels unnecessary but the next idea is superheroes. Honestly since I love Spiderman so much, I might make them all spiderman but for now...here's the ideas.

Xavier would be Lumiere (comparable to Spiderman), Rafayel would be spiderman (because I don't want to write aquaman-), Zayne could be winter soldier, and Sylus might fit as Iron Man. So in these stories, you'd be Iron man's secretary (so think Pepper), spiderman's best friend, lumiere's biggest fan and probably a reporter, and I'm drawing a blank on winter soldier.

The superhero one is honestly my weakest link when it comes to these one-shots but I really want to give it a shot.

Then, the actual one-shots that wouldn't be in series's would be all of their 5 star myth cards but reimagined. So I wouldn't write them word for word, just loosely base them on it.

The only example I have is for the Sea God myth.

So in this story, you're still an orphan being raised by the emissaries as a sacrifice for the Sea God but you have grandma Josephine, who was a clergy woman at the church you were confined to. She would tell you all kinds of stories about Lemuria and the people who lived under the deep sea. Then, on your 19th birthday, she passes away and shortly after, you were thrown into the sea as a sacrifice for the Sea God. I set the age at 18/19 just because Rafayel's coming of age ceremony to become the Sea God is within the 5 star myth cards and usually your coming of age ceremony (at least in ro-fan manhwas) is around the age of 16 to 19.

Annnnd that should be it! I really wanted to add my space/alien! Bts au since I really like it and will more than likely write it in the future, but this isn't a bts post so I don't want to write about them too much here but if you want to hear about it then I might make a separate post about it!

With that being said, I hope you enjoyed reading through my ideas for the future and have some that you're looking forward to! Other than that, my next post will be Chapters Six and Seven for "Twist of Fate" on late Friday or sometime Saturday! I don't have an exact time since I'll have to cross-post to both wattpad and AO3 but it'll be one of those two days. I'll possibly even post chapter eight as well, but I'm not too sure yet since I'm writing chapter twenty and I don't want to post too many chapters at once. I'll see y'all once more on friday/saturday! 🩷

[inkedinfusions]

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | eren jaeger chapter 2

⊱ཐཋ⊰ | In which you, an orphan turned thief, meet with the night himself.

── ★ ˙ ̟ . 🦇 .ᐟ.ᐟ masterlist

⊰- prev next–⊱

𝟎𝟐 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐟

chapter word count: 4.6k

content warnings: blanket warnings, floch being a little shit (again), attempted kidnapping but its fine cause the guy gets a can of whoop-ass immediately.

a/n: List of things that came out of nowhere: Mikasa, the kidnapping, the car, the cat, Rod Reiss??? Well, hope you enjoy that lol

FINALLY!!!!!!! I had to overhaul Everything because I started watching The Penguin (10/10 series wow) and a lot of thing that I had planned didn't fit anymore. So here we gooo,, everyone pray that the next chapter will take less time now that I know what do write.

Thank you for reading!

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, that is the only time you meet with the Jaeger heir, who would less than a week later suffer from your same fate. 

Grisha and Carla Jaeger meet their untimely end at the hand of a botched mugging—or so the newspapers proclaim. You watch the reports on a flickering TV one grim November morning, where Floch sat beside you with his fill of oatmeal, scoffing when the news report offered their condolences to the newly turned orphan.

You give him a side eye, before straightening up to catch a better glimpse of the TV from where it sits on the other side of the counter that divides the mess hall and the kitchens. “I feel bad for him” you say in between bites of tasteless porridge. “At least he still has his brother.”

“And his multi million dollar empire,” Floch mutters, disdain in his voice clear as a summer day. You glare at him and his lack of empathy, although you can’t say you are surprised. Floch has never been… kind, for lack of a better word. He tolerates you, sure, but sharing puzzles and grievances is about as far as your friendship goes. 

You, unlike him, however, understand. Floch had lived here long before you stepped into this place, had a greater number of cold winters and fourth-hand belongings under his belt. So you can see why he is so adamant on sneering at the TV’s rerun of Jaeger’s short lived mayor campaign. 

Still, you are both immature ten year olds with no way of conveying this, so you resort to lightly smacking his upper arm. Floch yelps and loudly complains, but you pay him no mind. No, just like the people of Shiganshina, all that goes through your mind is the newly made orphan at the top of Jaeger Tower. 

That is, until Floch steals your book at quiet time, and you are forced to run after him with too big shoes and too little layers. 

But months pass, and so does the cold. You grow into your shoes and Floch grows into his aviator glasses, classes get more complicated and so does your friendship. 

Just like the seasons, Floch’s moods come and go—he gives you the cold shoulder over the summer, just to warm up to you right before Christmas, when the holiday spirit is amplified by the little presents charity has donated in light of the festivities. 

But even that is turbulent. 

You can’t see what goes on behind those eyes—and to be frank, you’re not too sure you’d like it. But for as weird of a friendship you have, he is your friend, so you never comment when he sits down next to you in silence, tantrum long forgotten, scribbling down numbers and letters and symbols on his beaten up notebook. 

In that weird limbo that is the week between Christmas and New Years, you sit amongst the chattering of the older girls, all happy with the single set of kiddie nail polish and makeup someone had gifted yesterday, one girl in particular sharing her late mom’s eyeshadow routine. 

At that mention you look up from where you are, nose deep into one of Floch’s own puzzles, the page littered in pencil marks and later pen scribbles, when the lead of the latter had fallen off and you couldn’t find a sharpener. 

Memories of your mother elude you like rain through the cracks of the drain that clogs up in the fall, there for only a moment, before gravity does its work and slips it down the gutter. But it's in moments like this that remind you of her. 

Even since you could remember, you had accompanied your mom to her job at nights, too young to know what it truly meant. Now though, in an orphanage where the only thing better than warm blankets is hot gossip, you think you are starting to get what it was then went on at that dimly lit place you spent your childhood nights in. 

The bass crept through the walls, pumping at the beat of your heart rate, and the neon lights made the already brightly colored wigs turn different shades. It seemed as if you were perpetually covered in glitter, either by it sticking to your clothes or on the occasion one of the girls smeared a little in the corner of your outer eye, chuckling at your ogling in the mirror. 

There was another little girl your age too, and you spent nights and early dawns with her, trudging away in those maze-like dressing rooms. Her hair was a black void which not even the neon lights could paint a different color, and her demeanor was quiet but strong. One time when a drunken patron somehow found his way into your little cove, she managed to punch him straight to the throat, before grabbing your hand and making a dashing escape. 

For her bravery, one of the club girls had gifted her a soft, red scarf, wrapping it around her neck like a medal of valor. They were all nice, some more eccentric than others, with eyes that shone with gold and silver glitter, nails painted the same colors as their wigs. 

Sometimes, in the dead of the night, you wished that the orphanage’s dormitory's soft breaths would be replaced by the thrumming bass that found its way to your bones, the overhead lights to neons that left splotches in your vision when you stared at them for too long.

Most nights you and your friend stayed out of their way, hidden—but not quite—in a quiet corner, behind mirrors and costumes and feathers galore. 

And then, among the drunken lights of the club, a man would occasionally appear. 

Your skin would crawl, your heart would race the already fast pace of the music, your feet would take you back to your hideout. The man was always in a suit, never lingered around too long. On the days he would, Hayley, the girl who used to share her shiny eye shadow would take him away by the tie. But then your mother revealed who he was to her. To you. 

Rod Reiss was—or rather is—a prolific figure of the underground. He is a, if not the, boss, and something about the way he surveyed the world, the people, told you he wasn’t a good person. To your disdain, an odd affinity for hiding in corners is not the only thing you share with the man, but the blood that courses through your very veins.

He is also your father, the man who just watched as social services carried you away, not as much as batting an eye at the cold case murder scene that—just like everything illicit going on in that place—disappeared into the hazy lull of the night. 

Nobody knew about you, the bastard daughter of Rod Reiss, and so, despite being his daughter by blood, you were never a passing thought in his mind. Where some would let the resentment fester, you instead choose to chase it away with gratefulness you were never a pawn in his charades. 

In fact, the only thing akin to gratitude you feel towards that man is how it was in his club that you made your first friend. She’s been left behind with the shiny glitter and neon lights, never really the same since Haley joined your mother and the many women that have had their memories been left to rot in the club.

You often wonder how she's doing. If she has succumbed to the same fate many others have in that wretched place, the carmine thread of her scarf turning dark with spilled blood. 

But now the only red thing in sight is one of the orphanage girl’s bows, not the red scarf that fluttered in the gust of opened doors. And so the chatter becomes chatter again, and you mindlessly write something down in Floch’s puzzle, reading the hints over and over until they start to make sense. 

They often don’t—not until he explains them after endless pestering on your part, but you think you are getting the hang of them. 

As you reach your teen years, the riddles evolve and so do you, growing more complex as time goes by. Year after year it is the same routine; grade school starts in August and ends in December, where it is an endurance competition against the cold until spring arrives. 

You continue to attend the choir—alone, as Floch stopped attending the minute his voice cracked in one of the rehearsals. When you are fourteen, he trades the white robe for beaten up jeans and dark green hoodie, his glasses the only thing that reminds you of the small boy that peeked over at you on the day of your arrival. 

It is that same year where you start classes in Shiganshina City High School, young and as fresh faced as an orphan can be. It is also when, just like the cracks that had steadily appeared on the orphanages walls for years, your bond with Floch starts to fracture. 

High school is different from middle school—gone are the childish insults, replaced by rumors and cutting nicknames that seemed to stick to Floch like half-melted popsicles. The kids at the orphanage perpetuate them, their sneers and jabs growing with their age. 

“I don’t need you babying me,” he grumbles as you walk down the steps of the school bus, hurrying after him to catch up. 

“I wasn’t babying you,” you say, incredulous. “And how come you're mad at me of all people? I was just trying to help.”

He scoffs as you enter the main building, walking past rows and rows of lockers. “You call that help? All you did was make a mess of it all!”

“Excuse me?” you say, head jerking back at the audacity. “Those kids were trying to take your lunch—”

“Exactly,” he sneers, coming to a stop when you do. “It would be done and dead if you hadn't meddled when you did! Now I have more of a target on my back than before!”

“Target on your—are you even listening to yourself right now?” you utter, moving to the side when foot traffic in the hallway begins to pick up. “Most of them don’t even know us, let alone care enough to torment you specifically. They probably just picked you out from the group, nothing more.”

You see the tips of his ears go red, his body language screaming defense in your direction. It isn’t an unfamiliar look on him, but it is one you had never before seen pointed at you. 

“Are you calling me paranoid?” he says, quiet enough that you have to lean in to catch the tail of it. It is somber in a way no kid should ever be—off-putting for reasons you cannot not give name to. 

“I wasn’t—”

“Forget it,” he interrupts, stepping away when the warning bell rings. “I’ll see you later.”

You can only mutter a half-hearted later at his retreating figure, lost in between the teens that circulate around the high school’s halls, some eager to make it in time to class, others not really caring for the late slip that awaited them at the teachers’ desks. 

“Hey,” you hear a dry voice behind you. “That guy seems like an asshole.”

“Yeah, well,” you start, quiet, not bothering to look at whoever stands next to you. “He's my friend.”

“Are you sure?” 

You turn to her, curt, although your eyes are still too preoccupied with searching for your notes in your backpack. “I don’t see how that's any of your business—” 

Your eyes flit up, voice trailing off as you get a good look at the girl who leans against the locker next to yours. There is nothing remarkable in her face that would justify such a reaction from you, her dark hair and asian features just another part of Shiganshina High School’s varied student body. 

No, what catches your eye is the red scarf wrapped around her neck, even with the blazing heat of august beyond the entrance doors. 

She raises her eyebrow, a small glint of confusion that is replaced by curiosity when her eyes look you up and down. There is nothing on your person that alludes to your six-year-old self, and yet you think—you know—she recognizes you. 

Is it the color of your hair, dulled by a generic brand of shampoo? Is it the cornered look in your eyes, or maybe they way you could not physically move your gaze from her crimson accessory?

Whatever it is, it is clear she remembers you as well as you remember her. Just then, you are plagued by childish giggles and the feeling of soft boa feathers against your cheeks, as well as a name. Her name. 

“Mikasa…?” you ask, although it is less for her and more for you, a test for the slippery recollections of the club. 

“...Yeah,” she exhales. “It's…been a while.”

You nod slowly, not knowing what else to do. It isn’t like there is a manual for what to do when a childhood friend you made at a club and never saw again appears at you school, not like the mechanical engineering ones you steal off of an older guy at the orphanage, simply because the faces he makes when he notices they’re gone are far too funny to look at. 

“How have you been?” you ask tentatively, you more than anyone knowing just how much of a double edged sword that question could be. 

She shrugs, as dryly as you remember that little girl being. “I live with my cousin now. It's nice.”

“Oh,” you reply. “Your mom…?”

“Same as yours,” she says, not quite sad, not quite melancholic—simply stating a fact. You don’t know if that proves something about her; about you. 

You simply exhale, closing your locker, the look in her eyes telling you she doesn’t need nor want your condolences. You take no offense to it—there are plenty of kids at the orphanage with the same disposition about their families long gone. 

“Are you heading to Homeroom? I have mine at 108,” you say.

She falls into step with you when you start to trudge through the waves of kids, all forming an ocean of different colors around you.

 “Same,” she answers, voice almost lost in the chatter that surrounds you.

“Great!” you say, happy to have some company on your first day. “We’ll compare schedules later, come on.” 

Homeroom goes without a hitch, your assigned teacher, an old bald guy, droning on and on about school rules, important dates, and such. Then goes math, which you attend with Mikasa again, her time table differing with yours only for third period, science. 

There are no seats left when you enter the classroom on account of you being the last student to arrive, all because you took a wrong turn (or five) and ended up on the other side of the building. 

However, when your eyes scan the classroom, you take notice of a singular seat, hidden away in the far-back left corner of the room. Any other day you would be ecstatic at a seat at the back of the class, but your mood sours when you realize the desk mate on the side is none other than Floch. 

Begrudgingly, you walk up to him, setting your patched up backpack on the floor next to you when you take a seat.

“Okay class!” sounds the chipper voice of the teacher. “Welcome to your first science class of the semester! Take a look around, talk to your classmates if you haven’t—oh! Maybe each of you could share your favorite science fun fact with the class! I'll go first—”

You tune out their voice, too chipper for your sullen disposition. Unlike you, who when asked about their fun fact simply rattled off something you had seen in one of the manuals you stole, Floch rambled on about a type of chemical, only piping down when a boy in front of you started to snicker. 

You sigh when you turn your head to the side and catch a glimpse of his stone cold glare, directed at the back of the boy’s head, as if he could set it on fire with sheer willpower. Or maybe that chemical mixture he prattled about. 

The silence between you does not change as the class progresses, you copying down notes without much interest, Floch going all the way and using his notebook to construct written puzzles. 

His eyes flit to you from time to time without you noticing, the singular time you do enough to put a stop to it. When the bell rings and you begin to clear your desk, he clears his throat. 

“So,” he starts. “Do you have lunch now?”

You swing your backpack over your shoulder. “All our grade does, Floch.”

“I know that,” he says defensively, and you get ready for another round of whatever it was that happened in the morning. But it never comes. Or at least, not in the way you expected it too. “Just—follow me.”

As you’re about to shoot back something pertaining to his earlier behavior, a yelp comes out of your mouth when he grabs you by the arm and begins to lead you down the hallway. It's similar to how he would get your attention when you were younger, only now the grip of his fingers around your forearm feels more like a clamp than an anchor. 

You let him maneuver through the school in silence, eyes peeled to see if you spot Mikasa anywhere. You don’t, instead surrendering to Floch initiative as he takes you to the far end of the cafeteria, after taking your respective trays. 

Silence welcomes you both again when you sit, and you swirl the weird combination of canned vegetables that make up a fourth of your plastic tray. Floch sits directly in front of you, his lunch identical for you, except for the cookies you had defended earlier in the morning. 

You don’t bother with conversation. There's no telling what his mood is now—if he’s pleased you didn’t snatch your arm away, or if he is still irritated by your attempt to defend him from the run-of-the-mill jerks. 

A crinkly sound rings against the loud conversations around you when Floch opens up the packet of cookies, a luxury for kids like you, for whom the concept of an allowance or spending money was as foreign as caviar for breakfast. 

You would joke about that being Eren Jaeger’s everyday lunch, when a chocolate chip cookie gets dropped next to your applesauce cup. You reach towards it, meeting Floch’s gaze when you grab it. Then his eyes drop to his lunch once again, and you follow. 

It snaps when you bite into it, the chips already half melted from the heat of your palm. It is sweet in the way artificial sugar is, as fake as the smiles from the girls you used to see at the club. Still, you enjoy it, knowing it's the closest Floch will ever come to saying sorry. 

Mikasa’s apartment becomes a second house to you—if the orphanage could even count as one. Her cousin Levi took on the role of her guardian after her mother died, or else she could’ve gone to live in the orphanage with you. 

It's not something you are proud of—wishing, sometimes, that it had really gone that way. 

Her cousin is nice, if not a bit gruff, but along the years you’ve grown accustomed to the Church’s directness. The only thing close to an outburst you’ve ever gotten from when, was when you had inquired about her last name.

“Hey,” you say, sprawled on her bed after multiple failed attempts to work on the project you have due next week. “Is your cousin from your mom’s side?”

“My dad’s, whoever he was, apparently,” she responds, fingers twitching against the red of her scarf. 

“Right,” you say. “Because I remember you having a more asian-sounding last name—”

“That's not my name anymore,” she says, cutting you off. If you hadn’t known her for her courage, you would match the look in her eyes to a tense string, ready to snap. 

“...Sure,” you concede. “Was Church your father’s last name then?”

“No,” is all she says. 

You frown, eyebrows crinkling on your forehead. “But—”

“You have your mother’s last name,” she points out the same way one would a skeleton in a closet. 

You squint your eyes at her, not quite knowing what to do with the sudden change of topic. Its true; in all your official documents you carried your mother’s last name, all because your biological father was a no good mafia don—

“Ah,” you say, realizing. “You too?”

“Not my father,” she says. “A relative of his with the same name. Don’t ask Levi about it though, he doesn’t like talking about him.”

“I won’t,” you promise. “Now, do you think we could con Jean’s team into doing halfsies?”

“Jean?” she snorts. “I think we have a better chance of getting invited to the Jaeger tower.”

You poke her arm. “He will if you ask him.”

“Shut up,” comes her curt reply. 

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, watching as Mikasa cracks the smallest of smiles. Another excuse to not do the project is dropped right onto your lap, however, when Levi arrives from whatever job it is he has and notices there is no more canned tuna in the pantry.

“We could drop by the corner store,” Mikasa volunteers, itching just like you to go outside after hours of being cramped in her small bedroom.

“No,” Levi answers, glaring at you both with no malice. “Who knows what pieces of shit lurk around the alleys at this hour.”

“We’ll be fine!” you say. “We’ll be going to our last year of high school soon and we'll do the buddy system or something.”

“Or something,” he answers, turning his back to you to check out the rest of the cupboards.

“It's like two blocks from here and sunset wasn’t that long ago,” Mikasa replies. “Ten minutes tops.”

“...You won’t let this go, huh.”

“No,” you both answer in unison. 

Levi sighs, handing some bills to Mikasa. “Fine. Be quick and don’t get distracted.”

You celebrate with a quick high five, before beelining outside the apartment, jumping the stairs in groups of two. The sidewalk is littered with puddles from the rain earlier in the day, and you make a game of stepping onto them at all possible times. 

Spurred by the energy tingling through your limbs, you take off running, knowing Mikasa would catch up to you in the blink of an eye. She does, and you run along pedestrians, stopping only when the corner stoner’s leds assault your eyes. 

You bounce along Mikasa as she picks out some cans and pays for them at the only open register, manned by a kid your age or a little older. The deep eye bags below his eyes mess with your perception, although they definitely add onto the tired student shtick he’s got going on. 

The bell of the corner store rings when you exit it, and you begin with the walk back to the apartment, bag with cans in hand. The pedestrians you had seen before are all but gone, and a chill runs down your back, which you attribute to the wind. 

“We have six minutes till Levi gets worried,” Mikasa says, interrupting the silence of the night, which in turn harbors dogs’ howls and ever approaching footsteps—wait, that isn’t right. 

You have little to no warning when a hand grabs you from behind, the other covering your mouth when you try to scream. Your vision goes blurry, not because of any chemicals you remember studying for class, but because of the way you’re jerked around by who you assume to be a guy. 

You struggle against him, and you barely register when Mikasa comes swinging by your side, fists aimed to his neck. He dodges, and although his grip on you falters, he manages to drag you to a beaten up car parked in an alley. His movements are twitchy in the way no one’s are, so on top of being an attempted kidnapper, this guy must also be a drophead. 

Just then, Mikasa’s fist connects with his windpipe, and he doubles over, clutching his throat. You almost trip as you scramble to get away from the guy, and it is pure instinct what you do when he reaches for your arm again. 

The bag soars through the air when you swing it, connecting with his head with a metallic clang. The drugs in his system must aid you, because all he does is drop to the floor, motionless. 

You heave as the past minute registers in your brain. “...Holy shit,” you pant. “Is he dead?”

Mikasa swallows, fingers twitching with adrenaline as she methodically and cautiously crouches near the guy. “He’s still breathing,” she says, voice a little shaken. “We should leave.”

You nod, eager to leave, when a metallic gleam catches your eye. In the scuffle, it seems like the keys to the car you were almost dragged to fell out of his pocket, and now they sit pretty next to one of the rims. 

The dirt under your feet crunches when you lower your body to grab them, ignoring Mikasa’s inquiring look.

“Let's keep this,” you say, standing up.

“The car?”

“Yeah, why not? The guy almost kidnapped me—”

The sound of falling glass interrupts you, and you instinctively get closer to Mikasa, ready to run should things go awry again. But there is no delinquent on the other side of the alley, just a small grey cat that approaches you both. 

Your shoulders sag when you see it, hand reaching down to pet it. “Just a cat. Come on, let's go.”

Mikasa sighs but doesn’t complain, following you to the passengers side. You in turn sit in front of the wheel, surprised when you feel something furry against your leg. You shrug when Mikasa points the cat out. It had probably taken a whiff from one of the cans, and you see no downside to letting it hitch a ride. You don’t want to leave it alone with the guy. 

The ride back to Mikasa’s is quiet, and you take a detour to park the car in one of the abandoned lots. 

“Yeah, this is not suspicious at all,” Mikasa remarks dryly when you park it to the side of it. You huff but have no reply. It is a little suspicious to see a car parked in the middle of an abandoned lot, no matter how beaten up it might be. 

You snap your fingers. “Tarp,” you say, walking towards a big roll of plastic material, still wet from the rain. Mikasa helps you roll it over the car, and while it is not the best outcome, it still is better than leaving it with nothing. 

The cat runs through your legs after you lock the car and start with a jog towards the apartment, bag in hand. It is not long until you cross the door, careful to place your soiled shoes to the side of the hallway. 

The bag is dropped unceremoniously on the kitchen table, and you barely register Levi’s thanks, adrenaline evaporating from your body with each step. You both have only just collapsed onto Mikasa’s bed when a shrill shout startles you from outside her door. 

“Brats!” you hear Levi yell. “Why the hell is there a cat in my kitchen!”

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[pankowcrumbs]

Fifteen years Chapter 2 X Will Poulter

MasterList

Will Poulter Masterlist

Chapter 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

I didn’t sleep much that night.

Not because I was restless or anxious. But because I kept replaying everything his laugh, the way his hand fit around mine, the feel of his lips against mine. Like my brain didn’t want to risk forgetting a single second.

And apparently, neither did he.

The next morning, just as I was finishing my first cup of tea and debating whether to open the bookshop late in favour of a second one, my phone buzzed.

Will Poulter: If I said I’d bribe you with gingerbread and another mulled wine, would you come to Winter Wonderland with me?

I stared at the message for a moment, grinning.

Me: Depends. Are we talking actual bribes or just emotional manipulation?

Will Poulter: The first one. Maybe a little of the second.

Half an hour later, I was wrapped in three layers and walking toward Hyde Park with Will, our gloved hands already interlaced like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“So, how many years have you been secretly waiting to ask me out again?” I teased as we passed a row of market stalls selling ornaments and woollen hats.

He grinned, slightly sheepish. “Honestly? Since year ten. Just took me fifteen years and a very well-timed lip balm hunt to do something about it.”

“Truly fate at its finest,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.

He nudged me back, then promptly dragged me toward a stand selling hot chocolate piled high with cream and marshmallows. “Fuel. We need fuel before I attempt to win you an oversized plush penguin.”

We spent the next hour wrapped in the childlike joy that only a Christmas fair can bring. Will was exactly the same as he’d been when we were teenagers competitive, dramatic, and thoroughly determined to win at everything. Which meant I now had not one, but two ridiculous stuffed animals tucked under my arm.

“This one is you,” he said, holding up the sloth with a Santa hat. “Charming. Underestimated. Hangs onto things too long.”

“Rude,” I replied, laughing. “What does that make you, then?”

He held up the neon green dinosaur. “Undeniably cool and extinct. The full Will Poulter experience.”

It wasn’t until we were standing beneath the giant sparkling archway of lights that I realised my face was aching from smiling so much.

“God,” I murmured, staring up. “It’s beautiful.”

Will didn’t answer immediately. When I looked over, I found him watching me, a soft, unreadable expression on his face.

“Yeah,” he said. “It really is.”

My cheeks flushed with warmth that had nothing to do with the mulled wine.

We kept walking, and he slipped his arm around my shoulders like it had always belonged there. The wind picked up again, swirling snow-like flurries through the air, and for a second, the world really did feel like something out of a movie.

“You know,” he said after a pause, “when I left all those years ago, I kept meaning to write. Or call. But the longer I left it, the harder it got. I thought you’d have moved on. That you wouldn’t want to hear from me.”

“I was angry,” I admitted. “Hurt, mostly. But not because you left. Because you didn’t say goodbye.”

He stopped walking and turned to face me properly.

“I’m sorry. Really. I never stopped thinking about you, Y/n.”

I looked up at him, eyes stinging slightly in the cold. Or maybe not just the cold.

“I guess it’s lucky we ran into each other then,” I whispered.

He smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Or fate. I’ll take either.”

We stayed like that for a moment, the noise of the fair falling away. Then he leaned down and kissed me again. This time slower. Surer. Like he knew he had time now. Like he wasn’t planning on vanishing again.

When we finally stepped back into the real world, blinking against the lights and the cold and the crowds, my phone buzzed.

Tasha (Book Club Queen): Reminder: Theatre Book Club at 6! Bring snacks or face the wrath.

I groaned. “Book club.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Can I come?”

“It’s Les Mis this month. There will be tears and dramatic monologues.”

“Sounds right up my alley,” he said with a grin.

“You sure?” I asked. “My club members are… passionate.”

He stepped closer. “I like passionate.”

So that’s how Will Poulter ended up sitting in my tiny bookshop, wedged between a pile of beanbags and a stack of Dickens novels, holding court with half a dozen theatre nerds who were all utterly enamoured with him by the end of the night.

He read the last lines of Les Mis aloud, voice low and reverent, and the room went completely silent.

When it ended, Tasha leaned toward me and whispered, “You’re keeping him, right?”

I nodded, dazed. “Oh, I’m keeping him.”

After everyone had left, he helped me tidy up, arms brushing mine as we picked up mugs and stray biscuit crumbs. The shop was quiet and golden-lit, smelling faintly of old paper and cinnamon candles.

“I haven’t had a night like this in years,” he said, placing a worn copy of The Crucible back on the shelf. “Feels like home.”

I glanced at him. “Does that mean you’ll come back? After LA?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he looked at me, eyes steady.

“I think I might. If there’s a reason to.”

“You’re fishing, Poulter.”

“Just confirming,” he said with a grin, “that I’m your favourite drama nerd.”

“Top two,” I teased.

He stepped closer. “Y/n.”

“Alright, alright,” I murmured, heart pounding. “You win.”

He kissed me then, right in the middle of the bookshop, between the Brontës and the Austens, with fairy lights blinking softly in the window.

And this time, I knew.

This wasn’t just nostalgia.