#idk just!!! thoughts!!! and seeing if im alone in this bc i know other people feel awkward blessing but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scoobysnakz · 2 months

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1950's greaser Miguel 😭 that's that

a/n: i had something like this in my drafts i was so happy omg 😭 also im so sorry this took so long i ended up falling down several rabbit holes around 50’s culture for no reason whatsoever. idk how to feel abt this it’s rushed and not proof read at all!!! so sorry for any dumb mistakes

warnings: none really except maybe threats of violence and very poorly written angst bc i just cant handle it.

everyone had warned you to watch out for guys like Miguel- the loud, cocky ones that only think with their dick. but you’ve never been one to listen, not to overbearing second cousins and patronising aunts, anyway.

your ignorance to their advice doesn’t do much, though, because as much as you pretend, they’re right. he knows he could have any girl he wants, all he’d have to do is flash her that signature smirk, maybe wrap one of his toned arms around her waist, and they’re putty in his hands.

so why would he give you- the gut-wrenchingly awkward waitress at the diner him and his friends flood after work- the time of day ?

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

It's a peacefully slow day at the diner, booths just as empty as the tip jar and the counter bell unrung.

This would be the perfect opportunity to relax, count the cars passing by and try to work out if you can afford takeout for tea, but you are stuck talking to some random guy.

He's sweet enough, fairly attractive, and a large tipper. Hopefully, things don't get too difficult.

"So then I said to my buddy, Clarence. Y’know Clarence, sweetheart? Comes here twice a week with his wife on Tuesdays and then comes on Saturdays with his… lady friend?"

You internally grimace at his words. Your smile falters slightly but you fight to keep that forced, hospitality smile plastered on your face.

If working at this grimy diner has taught you anything it's that people like him don't want to see a strand of emotion other than flattery at their crude compliments.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question, darling.”

Your gaze snaps back to him, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Do. You. Know. Clarence?" he sounds much gruffer now, more stern.

Panicked, you shake your head a quick no.

You do know Clarence and he is even more pushy than this guy, always taking a not-so-conspicuous glance at your chest, 'accidentally' groping your ass.

Somehow, he knows you're lying and his expression hardens. "Don't lie to me, m'kay? I asked you a simple question and all you have to do is answer it for me."

The way his words are so slow to pass through his thin, leathery lips makes your stomach form knots.

You glance around the diner but there's no one else there, the very few people who had been there left the moment he came in.

Is there something you don't know? You've been working here for just over a month and you thought you knew all the inside secrets, the customers to flirt with to get the big tip, who to give extra sugar too because they're too nervous to ask for it themselves, which families will clean up after themselves. Obviously not.

The sticky brown tables are lined with half-eaten meals and a few bills that people left behind before running off.

You can hear the stove humming lowly in the kitchen and the man's heavy breathing accompanying it.

"I don't know who Clarence is, sir." your tone matches his, harsh and unwilling. It's nine forty-five on a Saturday and all you want is five minutes of sleep. "So either order something or leave. It's company policy.” you pick up a creased piece of laminated paper that says pretty much what you did but in a much more formal narrative.

His face contorts into a snarl as he glares at you, lips curling and nostrils flaring in a way that immediately makes you regret your sudden surge of confidence.

"You're lucky I don't hit women," he mutters under his breath.

Those words alone are enough to make your skin crawl. It's a threat, a cleverly disguised one, but a threat all the same.

"I'll ask one more time, sweetie. Do you know Clarence?" his voice is painfully condescending. Under different circumstances you would have chewed his ear off.

Before you get a chance to snap back at him the bell chimes as someone else enters the diner. You thank God, and whoever else is up there with him, that you are no longer alone.

It's a regular- Peter. You flash an uneasy smile, willing him to get the hint.

His mousy brown hair hangs flat on his head, a few strands wrapped around his daughter's pudgy fingers. Lazily, he turns to face you, eyes narrowing as he takes in your nervous expression.

“Everything alright?” he asks.

The man scoffs and rolls his eyes. “We're fine, get your coffee and go.”

It takes him a second, round brown eyes darting between the two of you before he sucks in a sharp breath and nods his head.

Peter knows he isn't intimidating, painfully the opposite. It’s almost impossible for him to come across as anything other than naïvely friendly… perhaps a little agitating, though. There's never a moment where a charismatic grin isn't etched into his thin, rosy lips or an awkward joke said to ease the tension. According to him, it’s his Achilles heel.

Hurriedly, he excuses himself and Mayday and pushes his chair away from the counter before stumbling out the door. Your eye twitches with slight irritation but you push past it; there’s no point staying angry with Peter when he didn't have any obligation to ‘save’ you.

Smirking, the man looks at you. It’s just the two of you now.

You know you shouldn't have begged to take the closing shift alone. You had assumed you’d keep all the tips, get to clean up with whatever music you like playing and have some downtime before trudging through the busy New York streets. And now you know how idiotic it was to think that.

“Hey, bebita.” the shrill sound of the bell doesn't do anything to dampen obnoxiously loud entrance.

You drag your gaze over to the source of the tall shadow that’s blanketing the top of the sticky, wooden counter. It takes you no time at all to recognise that sturdy build and dark heap of slicked-back curls.

Your eyes scrunch as your lips utter a silent thank you to God for freeing you from the burden of this creep and a little less grateful plea to get rid of Miguel as soon as possible.

Don't get it wrong, you couldn't be happier someone has come to rescue you from whoever this balding weirdo is but you might be a little more giddy with glee if it wasn't Miguel. It’s not that he's a bad guy or anything but things can get a little tense between people when one of them stands the other one up.

Miguel slides onto one of the stools next to the man, who is now looking considerably less confident now that there's a 6’9 man sitting next to him.

“Can I get a coffee, please,” he orders with an awkward curve of his lips that doesn't quite form a smile.

“She’s busy right now, might want to go someplace else, lad,” the stranger says with a nod towards the door, almost trying to act pally with Miguel. But he knows better than that- surely.

You can see Miguel’s jaw tensing from the corner of your eye but you brush past it, finding amusement in his irritation.

“You know how I like it, black, no sugar,” he says before turning his attention back to the man.

You make your way down to the other end of the counter where the coffee pot sits, encompassed by splodgy brown rings stained into the wood. You wonder how long you can stay down here, how many excuses you can come up with before one of them grows weary and snaps.

The wash cloth is still damp, you know it is because you wiped everywhere down at least fifty times whilst waiting for your unwanted visitor to leave. You begin to scrub the battered wood again, trying in vain to remove the surplus of coffee stains that you know won’t budge.

It’s not even late and you’re exhausted. Just the thought of getting on the train has your eyes growing heavy and shoulders sagging. And now, you have to deal with two of the most irritating people to exist.

“Hurry up with his coffee, we have things to talk about!”

You whip your head around, eyes narrowed with spite and lips parted to spew whatever crude insult spills out first but Miguel beats you to it.

“What?” he scoffs.

“She’s taking forever, acting like we have all the time in the fucking world!”

Without any hesitation, Miguel is up, towering over the balding reprobate. His expression is calm, surprisingly, but the slight clench of his jaw can't hide from your watchful gaze. You’re tempted to intervene, cautious of the mess Miguel’s infamous outbursts leave behind, but this loathsome man getting put in his place is more than worth it.

“Apologise.”

The man swallows, yellowing eyes widened with panic. On his own, the man is intimidating. He’s taller than you and it’s easy to tell he works out but he's no Miguel. Side by side, he looks like an influenza-ridden Victorian child whilst Miguel continues to stand proud, attracting all attention like a pompous black hole.

His chapped lips move but no intelligible words come out, just a serious of worthless splutters and squeaks.

Miguel rolls his eyes. “Apologise to the lady. Now.”

Only silence follows. Silence so soft and crisp you swear you can hear the snowflakes falling on the dirtied pavements outside before they instantly melt away. That’ll be fun walking home in.

“Por dios,” Miguel groans, “You have one last chance, tell her you’re sorry or I’m dragging you out and telling everyone how much of an uneducados, baboso bastardo you are!”

“I-i only understood bastardo,” the man stammers and you just about manage to muffle the chuckle that bubbles in your chest.

“Getting kicked out it is,” Miguel sighs.

You watch through amused eyes as Miguel grabs him by his tattered collar and drags him towards the door. The man continues to protest this, blabbering about how he's more than happy to apologise and that he has friends in high-up places who won't be pleased to hear about this, but Miguel doesn't care.

He chucks him out into the street and you don't even have to see his face to know he’s smirking as the idiot lands flat on his ass because you are too.

The bell chimes his entrance once again, a proud grin on his face as he saunters towards you.

“So?” he questions expectantly.

Pushing past your amusement, you shrug your shoulders.

“I just kicked out some dick head for you and you’re not gonna say anything?”

“He didn't get a chance to pay, so you’re gonna have to cover it.” you flash him a sarcastic smile before picking up the tip jar and pushing it towards him, “and tip.”

His eyes narrow before he pulls out his wallet and behind to leaf through a series of wrinkled tens and twenties before pulling out a fifty. “Treat yourself.”

Again, you offer a forced smile before taking the jar away and opening the register to change the fifty for five tens. Your ears perk at the sound of his exasperated sigh, the corner of your mouth twitching into a grin at his irritation.

“You are so petty you know that, hermosa?”

You slam the register shut, mettle blooming in your chest at the dumbfounded expression on Miguel’s face.

You remain unblinking as you glare at him, not a slither of emotion is present on your face other than pure unbridled spite. You’ve never been able to wrap your head around his confidence. Sure, he's conventionally attractive and can tell you how the reason you never see stars at night isn't because of all the light pollution but because they know they’ll never compare to the grace of your smile or the dazzling beauty of your eyes all in Spanish. But is he really that amazing?

He pulls out a small metal tube from his pocket and pops it open. “Toothpick?” he offers, sliding one between his lips, “cherry flavoured.”

You keep staring disdainfully at him, expression unmoving.

“I’m starting to understand why he was in such a grump,” he mutters to himself, although his eyes are still carefully trained on you, “with service like this, any man would end up in a funk like that.”

That does it. You slam your fists on the tacky counter with a furious groan. You’re so fucking tired, not one single person in this entire rat-filled city has manners, the last thing you need is some self-obsessed playboy messing with your emotions.

Palms stinging , you look back up at him. His eyes are slightly widened but he stays silent, slightly baffled by whatever just happened.

“Get out, Miguel.”

He scoffs and stays where he is, clearly not oblivious to how infuriating he is.

“I’m not joking. Get out.”

His expression falters slightly but again, he simply refuses to move.

“I am so tired of people walking all over me, not an ounce of courtesy or anything. I'm not letting you, of all people, treat me the same.”

Slowly, he stands up, pushing his toothpick holder into his inside pocket.

“Please,” your voice cracks as tears sting the corners of your eyes, “just get out.”

You don't wait to hear the door close before allowing yourself to crumple, head falling onto your folded arms on the counter while unwanted tears trail down your cheeks.

You can’t believe you just broke down that, completely unprovoked. Miguel didn't help but whatever just happened was… it was more than unnecessary it was just plain childishness. How could you have allowed yourself to get so worked up? Normally you’re so collected, and always know how to act, yet the second that cocky idiot is around your emotions run havoc.

Then, your nose breathes in that familiar cedar and menthol smell. Internally, you groan.

“Look, I’m sorry that was out of order,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes. It's all well and good being able to apologize for being a dick one time but when you're continuously being a douche the effect tends to wear off.

“How did you even get behind here?” you mumble into your arms.

Ignoring your question, he slowly wraps an arm around your waist. You jump, at first, but allow yourself to relax. It’s nice being held, even if it's awkwardly and by someone you detest.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

What a gentleman.

Sniffling, you lift your head and turn to face him. “I don't have a car, Miguel!” you croak out.

What could pass as either a pout or a thoughtful frown forms on his lips as he stares at you. Whatever it is, it reeks of sympathy that you didn't ask for.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that.”

“No. I’m sorry about before.”

You scoff. It’s like he refuses to listen to you on purpose.

He runs his fingers through his hair, a sigh pushing past his lips. “I’m sorry about not showing up.”

It takes a second or two before you get what he means. You raise your brow, taken aback by his sudden ability to take just enough responsibility to apologize but not enough to actually say what he did. It’s funny, in a way, that it took you having to yell at him and break down crying before it even clicked that he should apologize.

“It’s fine, you were a dick and I got over it.” you lie.

He scowls, clearly unimpressed by the lack of enthusiasm his apology earned him. He steps a little closer, fingers grazing against your middle. Instinctively, your stomach clenches at the contact but you don't move away.

“That’s… that’s fair.”

You hum in agreement but remain silent.

“Forgot how to speak?” his voice is smooth like velvet but you don't take the bait. You’ve been in this position before, Miguel holding you close, a sudden softness to his demeanour whilst he comforts you. And last time it ended with you crying into your pillow until you fell asleep.

His hand turns your face towards him, thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip. “Que niña tan linda,” he utters.

Your upper lip curls up in disgust and you push him away. You might be exhausted and emotionally distraught but that doesn't mean you don't have common sense.

Something, you’re not quite sure what, flickers across his expression as he bites down on his bottom lip.

Defensively, he holds his hands up and takes a dramatic step away. “Misread the room.”

You laugh. Again, it's not even a proper apology, just something to clear his conscious until he does something equally as idiotic. It would take a miracle for him to give a heartfelt, meaningful apology and you sincerely doubt any miracles are coming his way.

Another awkward silence fills the room. It's not like the one before, though, there’s no fear of death or ill-mannered slobs taking up all thinking space. Just you and Miguel, stood dangerously close while you cumbersomely sniffle away your tears.

You can feel it, Miguel’s intense gaze burning holes into the side of your face. He doesn't look away, just keeps staring at you, unblinking and unmoving.

“Bebita.” you allow yourself to look at him. The harsh, flickering yellow lights hang close to his head and burn the corners of your eyes. “I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“If you thought so, I wouldn't have been left standing outside the movies for an hour in the rain waiting for you,” you mutter snidely.

Ditching his previous tactics for forgiveness, he groans. “I told you already, I was busy.”

Everyone had warned you to watch out for guys like Miguel- the loud, cocky ones that only think with their dick. But you’ve never been one to listen, not to overbearing second cousins and patronising aunts, anyway.

Your ignorance of their advice hadn’t done much, though, because as much as you’d pretended, they were right. He knows he could have any girl he wants, all he’d have to do is flash her that signature smirk, maybe wrap one of his toned arms around her waist, and they’re putty in his hands.

And you'd fallen for his flirtatious trap once before. Hook, line and sinker.

You force your gaze away, deciding eye contact with him isn't worth the optical damage that will surely present itself sooner or later.

“You have a house phone, could have called me or the diner, hell- Peter would have been happy to be your little messenger pigeon!” it all comes out at once, a toxic blur of anger and regret that has been burning in your chest since the moment he walked in tumbling out your mouth before you could get a chance to stop yourself. “You are the scum of the earth, Miguel. I hope you know that.”

He lets your words settle in the air, arm slowly retracting from your waist and coming to rest on the countertop. His lips are pursed into a tight line that hides all emotion but the remnants of a frown tug his brown eyes downwards.

“Peter had come out, before, telling me that some creep was in there bothering you.” he glances back down at you, waiting for something other than fury to be represented on your face only to realise his optimism was all in vain and continuing on. “And I thought… maybe if I sort this out for her, she’ll forgive me.”

“You trying to be a good person now doesn't make standing me up okay.” you pause, angling yourself to face him, a sudden wave of sympathy crashing over you at the sight of his shiny eyes. “I forgive you, for now.”

This time, he doesn't even try to hide the pleased smirk on his face. His obnoxiously sharp canines poke proudly over his bottom lip and that ridiculous cocky twinkle is back in his eyes. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging to no end.

“Does this mean we’re friends now?”

You scrunch your nose and shake your head. “I can't be friends with someone who tips with a fifty, it’s too ironic and tacky.”

He clutches his chest in feigned offence before a low chuckle rumbles from deep within his chest.

You aren't too sure what you are, in all honesty. The two of you had started off as acquaintances, which led to a strange friendship which had snowballed into him kissing you in the kitchen after closing hours before he stood you up on your first proper date. And now you’re both here, laughing even though you’re certain you wanted him dead almost a minute ago.

“Can I try again, then? I want to get it right.”

You shrug, you only live once.

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doyouevenshipbr0 · 29 days

Text

gruvia drabble

author’s note: HI!!! ok so im here. im risen. im inspired. here’s something FUNNYYYY about the inspo for this… so its based off of a theory from an anti gr*via post LMAOOO this feels soooo bitchy but i swear to GOD it is not a call out it is just genuinely something that gave me inspiration. so basically an anti said that gray doesnt actually have feelings for juvia and he is just saying that he does because he feels indebted to her for saving his life. sorta kinda something like that. im not gonna go back and look bc tbh i may have blocked the account? JFJDKDJDJ idk. anyways. here’s this. you’ll see where my heads at in a sec bc ur probably like “ok so how tf is that gonna be a gruvia fic” just WAIT ok my gears are turning. this one is a lot longer (and possiblyyyyyy OOC but in my defense!!!!!!!!! picture how gray would act if he were in an established relationship with juvia. like boyfriend girlfriend. for six months.) than it should have been BUT lets call it even for my million year hiatus. ENJOY BABIES!

Although Juvia had hardly gotten any sleep this past night, rolling around in her sheets all night with excitement, she certainly walked with a spring in her step when she eagerly made her way to the local convenience store.

She would’ve been lying if she said she hadn’t thought about setting up camp outside the little shop that night so that way she could hold those glorious, glossy, pieces of paper bound together by glue as soon as physically possible. Fortunately, she was reasoned with when Gray quickly pointed out the ridiculousness of the notion after she had brought it up to him as a genuine idea.

Making sure to get up bright and early the day of the big release would do. As long as she would be the first person in the store with the very first copy of that week’s edition of Sorcerer Magazine in her hands, she would be content.

Naturally, Gray initially rejected the idea. It was so completely and irrevocably unlike him. An interview about himself, just him, was a tall order, but an interview with him and Juvia, as a couple? There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell. For Gray, opening up to the people closest to him was hard enough. Even finally getting the nerve to ask Juvia on a date was something that took a great deal of time and effort. Things so personal like this were hard for him.

All these years in Fairy Tail, and he’s hardly spoken more than a few sentences to Sorcerer Magazine, let alone sitting down for a tell-all interview.

Unfortunately for him, his enthusiastic water mage was over the moon when Sorcerer Magazine reached out to them for an interview.

Public displays of affection were never Gray’s strong suit, and after finally realizing his feelings for Juvia, he still isn’t a fan. As much as he would deny it, he had become quite a softy with Juvia behind closed doors, but as soon as those doors open, he retreats back to his shell-like and cool exterior.

Even after a good six months of dating, Juvia really didn’t mind. It’s not like he acted like he didn’t know her. They went on dates, they were finally an official item, and he would even do subtle things like resting his hand lightly on her leg under the table at the guild hall or give a “Love you, see you later” loud enough for Happy to hear even knowing he’ll snicker and tease Gray about it for the next few minutes.

All in all, they were both content with the amount of their relationship they let others see.

So something like an interview with a very popular magazine would certainly throw a wrench in all of that for Gray.

But Juvia begged, and begged, and begged, and finally, once they came to an agreement about the types of questions they would answer and the depth of their answers, Gray agreed to the interview. After all, it would make her happy, and he was comfortable enough with himself and his self esteem at this point to be able to do this for her.

Juvia was elated with how the interview went. Of course, she had done most of the talking, but she was happy to do so. She tried her best to hold back on doting too much as to save Gray some embarrassment, and she thought she mostly succeeded. Even when questions got a little personal, like asking about how Juvia got the scar on her side (of course, with her new stripping habit when in battle, her scar is easily visible for large enough periods of time), she answered as succinctly and lightly as possible while still giving an honest answer.

So to say the headline that Juvia saw that morning plastered on the front of that cold and stiff magazine was horrifying was an understatement.

“Gray and Juvia: Girlfriend or Guilt Trip?”

Juvia wasn’t sure how many times the clerk at the store had asked “Miss? Are you alright?” before her consciousness finally came back into this orbit. She blinked for the first time in what may have been minutes, and looked up at the clerk. Without giving a reply, she looked back down at the magazine, and saw the picture they used, which was Juvia clinging to Gray, wrapped around his arm.

Gray’s face in the picture became warped by a water droplet hitting the cover, and then another droplet, and then another. It wasn’t until she looked back up at the clerk who looked even more concerned than before that she realized those water droplets came from her eyes.

“Sorry.” She quietly said as she handed the magazine to the cashier so he could scan it, handed him a bill of some value that she wasn’t entirely sure of, took the magazine back into her trembling hand, and left the store without getting her change.

Juvia got back to her apartment even quicker than she got to the store that morning. Every part of her mind told her not to do it, not to read the magazine, but then why did she buy it? Her brain screamed at her to put it down, not to go to the page of that article, but then why did her fingers frantically flip to page 14, just as instructed on the cover?

Each word was not only a dagger to Juvia’s very soul, but also a twisted reasoning and explanation, that Juvia fully believed by the end of her read. She couldn’t quite make the words into sentences or the sentences into paragraphs but as she buried herself in her covers, some phrases repeatedly burned into her mind and punched her in the gut such as “clingy”, “desperate”, and “leech”.

The worst part of it all weren’t the attacks at Juvia, but it was what this all meant for Gray. He was trapped.

He was her prisoner.

A prisoner that was bound to her out of a crippling feeling of guilt and sense of responsibility.

She may have been in her bed writhing in agony and mortification over these words for hours until a bang on her apartment door jolted her back to reality.

“Juvia? You in there?” Said that voice she knew all too well. How could someone’s voice be both such a comfort and a misery? She needed to hear him more than anyone at this moment and yet, she couldn’t bear to hold him hostage for another second.

She hoped if she said nothing, he would go away. But this was not the case.

The door slowly opened. “Juvia? Are you here? I’m coming in.” She winced as his voice got closer, now coming from her living room.

Her apartment wasn’t very big, so he found her in her bedroom in the next few moments. All Gray could see was a lump that was seemingly her body, crunched up into a balled up position, bound under her covers. Not even her face was out.

He stood in her doorway, not wanting to fully intrude “So you are here. Good.” He said calmly. “I was kinda’ worried when you didn’t meet me at the cafe this morning like you said you would.” Juvia then remembered they had plans to get breakfast together, bright and early, so she could gush about their big debut as a couple. Those plans changed

“Oh.” She said softly. “Juvia is sorry Gray-sama.” She tried to speak as clearly as she could knowing her voice was muffled underneath her blanket. “Juvia didn’t feel well this morning.” She lied.

“Oh.” Gray replied. He took a step into the room. “You sick?” He stretched his neck over her a bit to see if he could get any sort of glimpse at her face, but to no avail.

“Yes.” Juvia sniffled, using her congestion from her tears as fuel for her lies. “Juvia thinks it’s just allergies.”

Gray raised an eyebrow. Something was off. “Allergies? Since when do you have allergies?”

Juvia remembered in this moment that lying was not one of her strong suits. She was far too unapologetically herself to ever lie about anything, and she was just plain bad at it. To say she doesn’t have a good poker face would be putting it lightly.

“Well— Um—!” The pitch in her voice jumped with nervousness. “This spring has been a really brutal one! Pollen has been all over the place, and it’s driving Juvia crazy!” She finished with a fake sneeze, sealing her fate.

“It’s November.” Gray said, dryly.

Juvia’s face lit up a red so bright, she was sure she was glowing from underneath her covers.

After a few more moments of no response as Juvia tried to think of her next plot, Gray spoke again. “And I know you wanted to see me at the crack ass of dawn so you could show me the newest Sorcerer Magazine edition.” Gray sat down at the edge of her bed. “Even if you were in an accident that tore off all your limbs, you would’ve been at that cafe, magazine in hand, ready to explode from excitement. There’s no way some sniffles would stop you.”

There was another pause. Juvia meekly responded. “Well. Since Juvia’s body is made of water, it’s actually impossible for me to have all my limbs torn off.”

Gray barely let her finish the sentence. “Juvia!” He snapped back, fed up with the antics.

“And what does it really matter?!” Juvia erupted from her covers, finally revealing her swollen eyes, puffy and blotchy face, and ratted hair to Gray, whose eyes softened with concern. “It’s not like Gray-sama wants to have to wake up at 7:00 AM to meet Juvia for breakfast anyway! Just for Juvia to show you a magazine that I made you be apart of against your will.” Her eyes were welling with tears.

Gray was taken aback. His eyes widened with surprise and confusion. “Well-“

“Don’t deny it.” She cut him off. “We both know it’s true.” Tears dripped down her hot cheeks. “Just like it’s true how Juvia clings to you, and suffocates you, and even forced you into a relationship.”

“Whoa!” Gray sat up straight, and turned himself more to position himself facing her on the bed.

“And I always thought Gray-Sama just finally let Juvia in.” She interrupted him again, and gripped the sheets of her bed within her fists. “But it’s got nothing to do with that.” She looked down and gritted her teeth.

“Gray-sama feels indebted to Juvia since Juvia saved his life.” She clenched her eyes shut, and felt tears melt from her eyes in pools.

Her tense body jolted and almost instantly released tension as she felt Gray’s sturdy hands grab onto the sides of her arms, clutching her.

Juvia opened her eyes and looked up to find him just an arm’s distance’s length from her, staring at her with so much intent it almost looked like anger.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice is low and gravelly. Juvia was glad her eyes would cloud with more tears so she didn’t have to see his dark eyes piercing into her. She looked away.

“The magazine.” She pulled one of her arms from Gray’s grasp and pulled the magazine in question out from under the covers where it rotted away with her minutes ago.

Shamefully, she held Sorcerer Magazine out to Gray who promptly took it from her hands. She was brave enough to watch his face as he first locked eyes with the cover, but wasn’t brave enough for anything else. She saw his scowl quickly scan the bold words and looked back down as she squeezed her eyes shut.

This was it. The end. He would see those red capital letters shouting at him, telling him “Run!”, and he would heed the advice. Of course he would. The magazine was right, after all. He would turn to page 14 just as eagerly as Juvia did and read, in gruesome detail, the truth of their relationship. At least after all of this, he would finally be free from her venomous clutches. He would be absolved of all guilt, now that the article plainly told him the truth of their situation. He would no longer have to pretend-

CRRSHH.

Juvia’s cruel daze was broken by the sounds of Gray tearing the magazine in half.

And then another half, and then one more half for good measure.

“Gray-Sama!” Juvia exclaimed, shocked.

“What a load of shit.” Gray said plainly, but with distinct irritation in his voice.

“But! You didn’t even read the article! It explained how-“

“I don’t give a fuck.” He interrupted and finally made eye contact with her once again once the magazine was finally in enough pieces to do no more harm.

“Well, you should.” Juvia looked down at the shards of Sorcerer Magazine.

“And why is that?”

“Because it all made sense. From start to end. Our relationship. I clung and clung and clung to you, and when I saved your life, you had no choice but to break for me. You felt like you owed me something. And that debt was big enough to do something as crazy as convince yourself that you love me.” Although Juvia explained the situation plainly and logically, her own words were like poison in her mouth, as tears had no choice but to fill her eyes again. She looked up at Gray who was at a loss for words.

This was good. There was nothing left to say. She smiled softly at the thought of their departure, and thus, Gray’s freedom. She knew she needed to swallow her tears, so she did.

“It’s ok.” She shook her head with her smile still curled through her lips. “You don’t have to force yourself to do this anymore. The debt is repaid. These last six months Juvia has spent with you have been filled with enough love to keep me content for a lifetime. We can go back to being friends, and we can both be happy.” Juvia paused and watched Gray’s brow furrow.

“Thank you for everything, Gray-sama. Loving you this closely for this long has been everything Juvia has ever wanted.” She closed her eyes, and a single tear crept through. She smiled thinking about how even though they won’t be together, she will love him for the rest of her life, and that was more than she ever deserved.

“That’s enough.” Was all Gray said as he used one hand to pull her head directly towards him onto his shoulder, and he wrapped the other around the middle of her back. They were positioned awkwardly because of how they were sat on the bed, but Gray didn’t care or even notice.

“Have you officially lost your mind?” Was his next question, and his tone was still low, but a bit softer.

“Eh?” Juvia was at a loss for words. How did she en up in his arms?

“I knew this stupid interview was a bad idea.” He grumbled, talking to himself, but obviously for Juvia to hear. “It’s a magazine. Of course they would twist our words into whatever made for a juicier story.”

“But-“

“Juvia,” Gray cut her off and sighed. He grabbed her by her shoulders, putting her back at arm’s length, and looked directly at her. “Here’s the truth.” He said certainly. Juvia’s eyebrows clenched with confusion.

“I’m not with you because I feel like I owe you anything. I’m with you because you’re clingy, you’re relentless, and you’re obnoxious about what you want, which is me.” Gray was serious. Juvia looked down in embarrassment.

Gray gently swept her bangs out of her face, and his hand traveled to her cheek where he cupped her face. She had no choice but to look back at him.

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He finally smiled, and Juvia’s heart oozed.

“What?” She whispered.

“You’re the most passionate, determined, loyal, genuine, kind person I’ve ever met in my entire life. You were the person who showed me that not only did I deserve love, but I was capable of loving. After all the people I lost, I had walls on top of walls on top of walls. And one by one, you broke each barrier down with a smile in your face.” He used a thumb to swipe away a tear, and Juvia let out a chuckle.

“Never in my life did I think I would think about stuff like romance or love. I was too scared. Now I think about having an actual future with somebody. And I know for sure that somebody is you.” Gray was saying things that Juvia only heard in her wildest dreams.

“Really?” Juvia grabbed onto the hand that held her face.

Gray nodded. “The way you’ve loved me has showed me how to love, Juvia. It took me awhile to get that, but I got it.”

He paused. He looked at the shred of magazing beneath him. “Not only is the person who wrote this article too stupid to know that I would never do something I don’t want to do or be with someone I don’t want to be with, but they’re also too stupid to know that you are the best thing in my life. A ‘guilt trip’ couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Juvia smiled, and instinctively her hand reached down for her scar, remembering how her sacrifice to save Gray’s life was what brought forth that term. Guilt trip. Gray took note of her hand placement, and knew she was thinking about this.

“Yes, you saved my life, and that may have been the moment that changed everything for me— for us, but not because I felt like I owed you, but because seeing how close I came to losing you made me realize that life is short. And up until then, I had spent all that time pushing everything off when I should’ve been letting you in. That moment made me finally realize that.” He looked at her deeply. “And I know I love you.”

“I love you too, Gray-sama.” Juvia finally allowed herself to melt in his arms, and he wrapped her up in his warm embrace.

“Y’knowww~” Juvia almost sang. “Saying you see a future with Juvia is practically the same thing as a proposal.” She snuggled closer into him.

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Gray reflexively replied.

Juvia giggled and nuzzled even further into Gray’s chest. “Thank you, Gray-sama.”

Gray and Juvia held each other for a little while longer as the discards of Sorcerer Magazine crumpled and bunched up within the covers where they sat, but they didn’t care.

They let the words be buried beneath them.

#gruvia #doyouevenshipbr0 #gruvia drabble #fairy tail fanfic #fairy tail #fairy tail 100 yq #fairy tail 100 years quest #personal #gruvia fanfiction #ft 100 yq #gray x juvia #juvia x gray #juvia #juvia lockser #gruvia fanfic

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itsjustrosee · 4 months

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Hii!!! Im literally in love with your work 😍it’s so good!!!! I was wondering if you could do a Minho x fem reader where the reader is really feisty and sassy on the outside but soft and scared inside. So when she first comes up in the box as the only girl, her fight or flight instincts come in and she starts running (sorta like Thomas in the beginning of the movies) and she almost makes it into the maze (bc shes really fast) but bumps into Minho who’s on his way out. He grabs her and after that he was instructed to always keep you in his sights bc he’s the only one who can handle/calm you? And you become a runner with him and grow feelings. Something like that idk!

Very cute idea!! I loved writing this, thank you so much for the request!!! This definitely helped me get out of my writing slump so thank you <3

UNDER CONTROL Minho x Fem!reader

Context: look above for summary ^

Warnings: Spice and cursing

Wordcount: 3.4k

! proof read but there might still be some mistakes !

You woke up just to be greeted by almost pitch-black darkness. Questions raced through your mind as your eyes slowly adjusted to your surroundings.

You were in some sort of box. All four walls, including the floor and the ceiling, were made of metal, and you could say that it was almost like you were stuck in a crate of some kind.

There were boxes of food and clothes around you but you didn't have much time to focus on that, not when the cage you were in moved up what seemed like some sort of elevator shaft at an alarming speed.

You tried standing up but you couldn't keep your balance. You landed right back on the floor so you shuffled over into a corner of the box, screaming for help until your throat became raw and you didn't have enough energy to scream anymore.

Hot wet tears streamed down your cheeks and you eventually passed out from exhaustion. When you opened your eyes again, the shaft was still moving but then suddenly it came to an abrupt halt.

You stayed in the corner, curious about what was to come next. Thoughts raced in and out of your brain as you tried to come up with an explanation as to why you were stuck in this cage. But that only made you question even more things. Where had you been before this? Who had you been before this? Who are you?

Your thoughts were interrupted as the crate's ceiling opened, and sunlight from above poured into your box. You looked up as your eyes adjusted to yet another change in lighting and to your surprise, you saw a large group of boys huddled around the perimeter of the box. They all stared at you, some shocked and some surprised.

You heard a couple whoops and hollers being exchanged from those above you and you could hear someone exclaim, "It's a girl!"

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Suddenly a hand reached down to pull you out of the box, "Welcome to the Glade shank," A boy with odd-looking eyebrows explained, the tone of his voice not welcoming once so ever.

"Come on Gally be nice to the greenie, I mean she is a girl," Another boy said, talking to the one who pulled you out of the box who you now knew was Gally. The boy who was talking to Gally was blonde and different from the others, he had a British accent.

You grabbed the hand of the boy hesitantly and got pulled up to the surface. You felt relieved to be standing on grass, let alone solid ground, until you actually looked at everyone around you. The only people you could see were boys. Only boys.

So that's what they meant. You were the only girl there.

Oh fuck no.

That was the only thing on your mind as you sprinted away from everyone. You shoved past the crowd of boys and ran. You ran like your life depended on it. Your heart beat out of your chest as you flew past everyone, you didn't even know where you were going but you just didn't want to be near anyone else, especially not them. This was too overwhelming for you and you shut your eyes as your mind raced almost as fast as you.

Just as you thought you would be successful in your escape, you slowed down your pace just slightly, finally opening your eyes and looking in front of you.

Walls. Four ginormous stone walls loomed over you.

All you could do was stare at them as you continued running, in awe and in horror.

You were too busy peering up at the walls to even notice the boy that you ended up running right into. You slammed into his chest but he barely even got knocked back by you, even though you ran like hell straight into him.

You subconsciously gripped onto both of his biceps with your hands to steady yourself while his hands both flew to your waist to keep you from falling. As you picked your head up to get a look at the person you collided with, your heart practically beat out of your chest.

Jesus Christ this man is hot.

He was much taller than you, your head only reaching his collarbone. He had a muscular frame and from what you could tell from the veins and muscles on his forearms, he was strong.

But it wasn't just his figure that made him attractive, it was also his face. He had a sharp jawline and a pair of hooded dark brown eyes that drew you in, like there was something just so captivating about them but you didn't know what it was.

As he looked you up and down for a moment, he had a mix of shock and realization on his face. "You must be new here, huh?" He said with a soft grin. God even his voice sounded hot.

You could only stare back at him, a look of terror on your face as you did so. As you looked past him and back to the walls, your eyes prickled with tears, ones that threatened to start streaming down your face any second.

Whoever the boy who stood in front of you was, took one good look at your face and his expression softened. "Hey look at me," He said, removing one of his hands from your waist and putting it on your chin as he moved your head so you'd look at him. "This whole thing seems terrifying, trust me I know, but it isn't as bad as you would think." He finished while putting his hand back on your waist.

"Where am I?" You squeaked out, your voice still slightly hoarse from all the screaming you'd done when you'd been stuck in that box.

"The glade," The boy answered. You gave him a look of confusion because it's not exactly like his reply really answered your question. He opened his mouth to speak again, "Alright it's kind of hard to explain all of this, and I really can't tell you all of it now. I know it seems unfair but you have to trust me, you'll learn everything in time."

"Okay," You mumble out with a small nod of your head.

"My name's Minho by the way," He adds as he removes his hands from your waist and crosses his arms, you quickly follow suit and take your hands away from his biceps and put them to your side. "You might not remember your name now, but you'll get it back in a couple d-" You cut him off before he can finish.

"(Y/N)." You say, the name almost sounding foreign to you, "My name is (Y/N)." You muster out again, this time more slowly as if you're actively trying to tie yourself to that name again.

"(Y/N), huh? You know, most people don't get their names back until a day or two out of the box. It's impressive that you remembered yours so quick." He says with a smile that makes your heart melt.

"Guess I'm lucky then," You say while the tips of your lips drag up to form a small smile.

"Guess so," Minho says, returning your smile as he looks back at you.

You hear footsteps approach and you turn around quickly, taking a step back as you do so. Minho puts a hand on your shoulder and suddenly you feel safe, protected almost, by his presence. You take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. You don't need to run.

Your eyes land on the thankfully smaller group of boys than before, walking up to you and Minho. "Jeez Minho how the hell'd you calm her down?" Someone says while another replies, "Guess he's just skilled with the ladies," Nudging his friend's arm as they both snicker.

"Slim it Fry. You can't blame the poor girl for being totally freaked. I would've done the same if I were her," The blonde one states.

"Alright settle down," One of the boy's who is walking with them states. He's different from the rest though, he looks older, not by much, but just enough to set him apart. He holds himself with confidence and his voice drips with authority and respect.

The two boys next to him quiet down as they walk over. Gally, the Brit, the guy whose name is Fry, a short chubby kid who radiates little brother energy, and the one who you're assuming is the leader, all stood in front of you.

"That was quite the run you made there." The leader states before continuing, "I'm Alby, I sorta run this place, and this," He points to the blondy, "Is Newt, my second in command." He says while Newt gives you a wave.

"I'm (Y/N)." You state.

"Wow, you already remembered your name? It took me a while to remember mine," The chubby boy replies, looking at you as if you're the coolest person he's ever met.

You give him a warm smile and as you're about to speak, someone else cuts in, "Oh slim it Chuck. No one cares," Gally says rudely, "Shouldn't you be cleaning up klunk in the toilets right now anyways?" Gally says with a chuckle.

For some reason, you feel compelled to defend this little kid. "Don't talk to him like that. You don't run the place, so who are you to go around telling everyone what to do?" You say taking a step forward towards Gally. You disliked him already, despite only knowing him for a couple of minutes.

"I can talk to him however the shuck I want, greenie." Gally sneers as he steps towards you. "You just got here and I don't think that you'd want to get on my bad side already." He spits out.

You scoff, "Honestly, I couldn't care less whether or not I'm on your 'bad side'." You grin while mocking him which only makes him angrier. You're now standing toe to toe with him and his face was only inches away from yours. "What are you going to do, huh? Fight me?" You say while finding your ability to get a rise out of him beyond entertaining.

"You little-" Newt pulled Gally away from you before he could do anything he might regret but you just stayed right where you were. This wasn't over, not in your eyes at least.

"Oh come on. Let him at me. I mean look at him, he's practically frothing at the mouth like some sort of wild animal." You say with a chuckle, meanwhile, he looks like he wants to maul you, but you could care less. "What? Are you afraid of getting your ass beat by a girl or something?"

That was all it took for Gally to pounce on you, but Minho pulled you to his side with two firm hands on your hips before he could reach you. Gally missed the both of you in his attempt to tackle you, resulting in him on the ground. While he tried to get up, both Newt and Fry had to hold him back.

"That's enough." Alby's voice booms while stepping between you and Minho and Newt, Fry and Gally. "Gally you've been here for far longer than she has and you are well aware of our rules here," Alby states while staring at Gally, who, after thrashing around, stands on his knees and finally calms down. Neither of the boy's grip on him gets any softer though.

While Alby lectures the both of you, Gally's too busy glaring at you. He was giving you a look that would seem threatening if anyone else was doing it, but his eyebrows shred the illusion of it being anything close to scary or intimidating.

"Alright Gally you get one night in the slammer, and you," He turns his attention to you, "Though you didn't put your hands on Gally, you should still be held responsible for some of this."

"That's fair," You say with a shrug.

"Minho you aren't allowed to leave her side for the next week," Alby states without missing a beat.

"Wait, what?" Both you and Minho say in unison.

"But I need to go in the maze, how is she supposed to be with me then?" Minho questions.

"That won't be a problem because you will be teaching her to become a runner," Alby explains before looking at you, "I've seen a lot of shanks come up through that box and claim they want to be a runner all for the glory of it, but you, you can actually run." You feel a sense of pride as Alby finishes speaking.

Gally finally gets up and starts walking away and Fry walks with him. As Newt stands up, he whispers something into Alby's ear.

"Minho you're going to have to keep her under control and tour her around the glade tonight after you go to the maze room, alright?" Alby confirms.

"Alright," Minho replies in agreement and both Newt and Alby begin to walk away. He takes his hands off your hips and stands in front of you before you can walk away.

"Well, that was quite the introduction you made for yourself, huh?"

"Dude, what do you expect me to do? Do you guys just let him talk to people like that?"

"Well, unfortunately, that's just kind of the way that he is."

"Now that's just a shitty excuse," You say, rolling your eyes.

"Look, I'm not the biggest fan of the way he acts either but you just need to get to know him." He says while shooting you a pleading look.

"Yeah, I think I'll pass." You say with a chuckle.

"Okay I get it, you don't need to be friends with him or anything, you just need to get along with him well enough," Minho says with a sigh.

"Alright fine. I will."

"Good," Minho says with a smile, "Meet me at the box after dinner, I'll show you around the glade afterward."

You give him a thumbs-up and he turns away, walking to, you're assuming, some place called 'the maze room'.

Just as you're about to walk away, to god knows where because you seriously don't even know where the hell you are, you stop in your tracks as you feel someone tug on the hem of your shirt from behind you.

You turn your head to see the kid from before that you defended, and immediately your expression softens.

"Hey, you need something?" You ask softly while turning towards him.

"Oh um, no, I just wanted to thank you for earlier," He says and you are literally fighting every urge you have to just hug this kid and squeeze the shit out of him. "Not many people are really willing to stick up for me around here, so, thank you."

"Of course. I mean, I couldn't just let that loser push you around like that,"

He gives you a genuine smile before speaking again, "My name's Chuck by the way."

"Chuck, huh? Well, it's nice to meet you Chuck," You say, returning his smile, "You wouldn't mind showing me where we have dinner would you? I don't know where the hell I am," You add with a chuckle.

Chuck agrees happily, and soon enough, you were sat down on a bench at a table eating dinner. You sat down with Chuck and a few others, and you made sure that you stayed as far away from Gally as possible.

After dinner, Minho showed you around and told you about the glade and how everyone was kept in here in some maze. Honestly, you couldn't focus on a word he was saying because you couldn't keep your eyes off the way the moonlight perfectly hit his face. It made him look like some kind of god, and to you, staring at him was far more interesting than realizing you all were stuck in here like some sort of lab rats.

Ok so maybe you developed a little crush on him. Who could blame you? He was hot, but he also had a really good personality. The type of personality that lights up a room, one that makes people want to be around you. That's what Minho had.

As you got to know him more while in the maze and out of it, your feelings couldn't help but grow deeper. Not to mention that he was the only person in the whole glade that could actually handle you. Well, Chuck could too, you had become very close with him, but when it came to fights, you told him to stay out of it. After all, you always knew that Minho would be there to pull you away and calm you down, so you didn't want Chuck to bother getting himself into trouble while trying to bail you out.

And tonight was no different. You'd gotten into an argument with Gally at the bonfire, but this one was worse than most. His words were harsher this time, and it pushed you over the edge.

Minho could tell that you actually felt hurt at what Gally said, so he dragged you out of the bonfire and into his hut where he hugged you as you cried into his shoulder.

You never cried in the glade, not once, yet as Minho hugged you, his arms wrapped around your back tightly as he rubbed circles into it, you couldn't help but let out soft sobs into his shirt.

"Shh," Minho whispered into your ear, "Let it out. You're safe here," His words made your heart melt, partially because he was being so nice to you and partially because he was right. It didn't matter where you were, as long as Minho was there, you felt safe.

"It's just so stupid, I shouldn't be crying over this. He's mean to me all the time I need to get over it," You sniffled, your words muffled by the material of his shirt as you spoke into it.

Suddenly, Minho moved his hands to your shoulders and pulled you away from him slightly so you could face him. "Don't say that, alright? It's not stupid." Minho explained, "He was being a total shuck face you have a right to feel frustrated," He said while taking a thumb and whipping a tear from your cheek.

He rested his hand on your cheek as he looked into your eyes and you felt your face flush.

Suddenly, there was a thick tension between both you and Minho. It was a mix of longing and desire, which only intensified after looking back at him.

You couldn't help but glance down at his lips for a split second, hoping he didn't see it but he definitely did. His hand wrapped around your back moved to your waist as his face leaned into yours, and your lips collided with his.

He kissed you softly and tenderly and you couldn't help but kiss him back with the same amount of passion. You moved your arms around his neck as you melted into his touch. You wish you could savor everything about the way he kissed you.

Minho slid one of his hands down your shirt and up your bare back, causing shockwaves to spread throughout your entire body because of the skin-to-skin contact.

The kiss deepened as he became more and more passionate and desperate with you. You slipped your lips open to allow his tongue to enter your mouth and he proceeded to explore every inch of it.

The ache between your legs only grew greater as you felt Minho's bulge press onto it. He hummed into your lips as he moved his hand from your cheek to under the front of your shirt.

Suddenly, he pulled away, biting down on your bottom lip as he did so. He moved his lips to your jaw, down your neck, and eventually down to the sensitive skin on the crook of your neck. He softly bit and then sucked on the skin, leaving a hickey that multiple people were guaranteed to point out tomorrow.

You moaned softly as he did so, and before you and Minho could continue, you heard the door knob of Minho's hut open.

Shit.

"Hey (Y/N) I wanted to apologize for earlier, I didn't mea-" Gally begins to say, but you can imagine the rest of the words get caught in his throat as he sees you and Minho before him.

"Gally get the shuck out-" You say loudly but before you can even continue, Gally's already out of the door as quickly as he came in.

Alright guys, I did it! Heres another request fulfilled!! I actually really liked how this one turned out and I hope you guys do too!!!

I also wanted to thank each and every one of you who's been supporting me even while I haven't been super active, it really means a lot to me <33

ALSO THANK YOU GUYS FOR 50 FOLLOWERS!!!!! that is literally so insane to me. I cannot thank you guys enough for how kind you've all been

#the maze runner #tmr fandom #minho the maze runner #minho tmr x reader #tmr #tmr fanfic #minho tmr #minho fic #x reader #minho x reader

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ganondoodle · 3 months

Text

this isnt a call out for anyone; i keep getting asked why i even post my opinions on the internet if i dont want to argue whenever i mention how tired i am of people trying to argue with me or proof me wrong

and i just ... for one its bc there are people that have told me they like hearing my opinions bc it makes them feel less alone, its validating to hear that i am not alone and i make them feel less alone (this is a big reason)

then theres the thing .. do you feel good never saying your opinion on anything and just keeping everything to yourself? be it big or small, i tried to do that for years, just trying to crawl deeper and deeper into a hole bc clearly i am the problem and should be able to deal with everything on my own, never say anything, i could be annoying, i could be a burden, and it nearly killed me; i have very few friends and i already spam them enough to feel constantly guilty

and if i did that on some private account ... what use is that, thats the same thing as not saying anything, whats the use of saying anything when no one listens, even to select few, whats the point if others cant find it, there might be people i dont know at all that would find solace in hearing my stupid ramblings about games

its true i lack self control and just tend to talk about stuff when i feel the need of talking, but is that really so bad?

correct me if im wrong but i was never of the impression that posting something on the internet automatically means wanting to debate and argue unless you specifically say or initiate it on someone elses post? like thats why i pretty much always make my own post to complain and dont go on other peoples posts of opposing views, id view the latter as an invitation to argue moreso than the former

when i post some stupid opinion (im talking about harmless personal video game opinions mind you) on my own account who am i bothering, if people agree thats great! if they dont they can just move on- i know people love to discuss and share different opinions but the the ones i most often encounter are ones where its a basically trying to start a fight over whos more right (like theres always one correct opinion to have) or just telling me i am not allowed to feel like i feel-

im aware i cant expect everyone to be able to see a differeing opinion and move on without saying anything, but when i say something, unless its specifically a question, i just do it to vent, to let my thoughts out so they dont slowly gnaw at me, maybe find validation in others also thinking like that (i know i cant also expect everyone to think that way .. i just see it as a form of politeness? sorta?); in all honesty, i dont do it to get told opposing opinions (i know thats maybe a little ... idk, selfish i guess?) bc i usually have seen or heard those already and am saying mine bc i havent seen it before or very very little- what i think is often very much not the majority so the need to say something gets greater the more i see somethign i dont agree with, like an urge to balance it? a call to see if i am alone or not? and much less so to argue or debate over something like that, im tired and exhausted at all times, and have often trouble even getting myself to draw, i dont enjoy fights of any kind, and especialyl so when its about something so completely ignorable like a game opinion i only said bc i wanted it out of my head and bc i have seen that the majority seems to be of a different one

like a sticky note on a wall, not an invitation to a political meeting?

maybe this is something i need to work on and get better at, i havent found a way that lets me get rid of my thoughts in a way that doesnt leave me feeling guilty (like spamming my friends) or to gnaw at me (not saying anything, or somewhere no ones gonna hear it)

i know im incapable of shutting up ever (though at least i got a better control over my emotions by now) and i risk accidentally seeming like im inviting people to a fight but i dont know what else to do

maybe its something i horribly missunderstood about the internet, but its my only outlet for that, i dont have anyone IRL to talk to about my interests, maybe its a flaw that needs work, maybe its just a flaw, i dont know :/

#ganondoodles talks #personal #and thats enough personal talk for today #already feeling shitty enough #im also really bad at lying- if some of this seems self centered then .. i guess it is- im sorry?#dont think im ever gonna be a perfect human being #even while trying to better myself #:(

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angy-grrr · 4 months

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I keep seeing people worried abt potential Iz/ch but like. We know that he probably wanted to talk about the same thing they did at the cliff, and she will keep thinking about Toga.

Yeah, for a second I also got slightly worried -bc yk, heterosexuality can just happen at any moment-, but after reading it all it doesn't look romantic at all. At least to me.

I am going to use this ask as an excuse to discuss the leaks under the cut, elaborating on this too

This chapter, to me, looks like Izuku is considering what means for him to be a hero himself, and if he even gets to be called that.

He is really... reflecting, if we pay attention to his facial expressions. After that student who used to had Aizawa-sensei as her teacher says she realized she really wants to be a hero after dealing with his "pranks", he is contemplative, maybe thinking about what he believes a hero should do -and if he fulfilled that role.

Ochako is the person who opened up about her complicated feelings towards a villain -while keeping to herself her admiration for certain things-, and probably he wanted to know more about her fight/confrontation. Because Uraraka interrupts him to comment on his hair, they probably haven't talked during their time in the hospital -idk about medical stuff, but im pretty sure he already went thru the operation and had his head shaved in chapter 424, that's why im guessing they were more focused on healing physically than meeting each other.

Because of this, I believe Izuku doesn't know what happened between her and Himiko, and because she probably isn't as relevant for the public as AFO, the end could also be unknown to him, including Ochako's thoughts. But after seeing how she is all okay apparently, chatting like nothing happened just like most of them... he probably felt more alone.

I can't confirm what he feels bc, well, he doesnt say it. Izuku just looks to me like he is looking for someone who could understand his goal of saving a villain, and how it could hurt failing, even if you are glad everyone is okay, but the only people who were open about it -Ochako, who also was focused on stopping and saving a villain who is "not related" to her, and Shoto, who wanted to save his villain brother- don't seem to want to talk about it with him. Like they can move on into other things.

Uraraka seems fine, idk what that says about Himiko's fate -I'm hoping she is okay and we'll get to see it later-, and Todoroki directly says it... is he alone in this? Is he a bad hero bc he couldn't save Shigaraki fully, or because he's stuck in that moment?

This chapter doesnt go against the idea I expressed here -it was a promise to themselves, and he expected Ochako to tell him about the aftermath and the internal conflict of being a hero that saves villains, just like before. But now, Ochako isn't opening up to him, she is keeping it light, and he doesnt want to be a burden.

Izuku rn is isolating himself bc he isn't being vulnerable with others first -the only people he is like that is All Might, and slightly Katsuki because he can't just lie to their faces. Before, both Shoto and Ochako were the ones who would spill their feelings to him, and he expected to be able to also be honest in return -but not being the first one. If he starts it, he risks making others feel sad, angry or down for things they might not even think about, so he prefers to shut up and keep it to himself.

Him and Katsuki... is complicated, because with his feelings he ends up pushing Izuku to places he might not be comfortable with -for example, expressing his admiration and closeness to the point of being nasty and inappropriate, and not hating it bc they are parts of Kacchan. He doesn't feel like he can say that, yet Katsuki makes him see those sides of him instead of focusing on other practical things.

Izuku is a clueless character, who prefers to put others' happiness over his own, and feels conflicted over his fight with Shigaraki. He is the definition of the bad at feelings tag. When he looks for support in the people he knows could be in the same position, and start the conversation for him -give him permission to express his thoughts- he finds they are doing okay. They are not lost, confused, or stuck. They look... fine.

But he is not okay.

Making that moment just an izu///ocha moment... idk, I think that takes a lot from their characters and from Shigaraki and Himiko, like the villains are just tools to make them a couple.

#grrr talking #bkdk #dkbk #togaocha #ig???#i dont want to elaborate a lot on togachako rn as I need to see more of ochako n what could have happened #also I love how its June in their world too lol happy pride month everyone #bnha spoilers #bakudeku #using this tag so the antis can't find the post

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zirobitches · 11 months

Text

One Piece: Soulmate AU

Always in this twilight - Crocodile x GN!Reader

Summary: Soulmates are incapable of hurting each other. As a pirate, this leads to some tragic moments midst battles. You thought you were prepared for when it might happen to you, but damn you were wrong.

Gn! Reader, Angst no comfort, no beta we die like Roger, Reader is Croc's First Mate and a former Roger pirate (Shanks/Buggy's age) but it doesnt really matter, also former slave background, congrats you are now in the place of my self insert OC, no promises on not being cringe this is literally a /reader fic, also had to make a fake crew bc we dont know enough crocs backstory HAND IT OVER ODA

Word count: 4500+

Also first fic on tumblr, idk what im doing here, lmk ur opinions. It is now 2:03am and i have class at 10:30. Might have to skip lmao

EDITS: grammar check lol. also cross posted it on ao3 - same name as my blog

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Soulmates weren't as common as you'd might assume when you first hear about it. There's an easy way to prove someone is your soulmate, but when that method is to harm them, well, it doesn't make it easy to find that person. And society gets a bit weird when you know your soulmate is out there.

you've known that some people carry around little needles to poke into strangers hoping to find the one. But that was in decent society; among pirates you more often heard tales of bullets suddenly dropping to the ground after they hit their target, or swords stopping on someone's skin as though it just hit steel. A battlefield is a hell of a place to meet the person fate had decided for you, but for pirates it had become a norm.

Not that long ago, some genius named Vegapunk did a study on how many people meet their soulmate - 1 in a 100. And that's just how many people find them. It never accounts for how many actually happily end up together. You had chosen to live your life as a pirate, so a happy ending with your supposed soulmate wasn't something you foresaw in your future.

You were always grateful most of your current crew felt the same. There was a small group among pirates that were always on the lookout to find their soulmate and then immediately retire. Your crew however like to joke that if they found them in battle, they would move out of the way so someone else could finish them off. It was a grim reality, but it was your reality.

However, on nights like these where you drank the night away, some romantic always had to bring it up.

"C'mon, did old Roger really make you so cold hearted that you don't believe in true love?"

"Pfft, you're fucking joking right?" You scoffed back. You always argued with Tink about this, but you understood your young navigator still had hope. Too bad you were the pessimist of the crew.

"It's not that I don't believe in true love," you continued. "Soulmates are real, I don't really see another explanation for not being able to harm only one other person in the world. But why limit yourself to waiting for a person you might never meet? So many are denying themselves to fall in love with someone else and then end up dying alone because they never found their soulmate."

Tink pouted in front of you. This was a tired conversation, one that was repeated every few weeks much to the chagrin of your other crewmates. But a controversial topic was always a great topic for a group such as yourselves.

"I'm not denying myself the chance to fall in love! I'm denying ever feeling heartbroken over someone who doesn't matter!" Tink tried to argue back, but you just groaned in response.

"And if you never meet the one? You'll just live and die without ever letting yourself even get a taste of what it is you're chasing." Tink glared, knowing it was futile to keep going, but the pink of her cheeks told you that the grog in her system was trying to get her to keep fighting.

It was then that a familiar tall figure caught your eye. There was your beloved captain Crocodile, trying to sneak behind everyone's back to grab another bottle for himself.

Crocodile was never much one for festivities, at least not one 'undeserved' as he might put it. While there was no battle won to celebrate, the night sky was clear and the waters calm; in the Grand Line, shouldn't that be enough to be happy about?

However tonight you weren't going to let him sneak booze and hide from the crew.

"Cap'n!" Apparently the grog was getting to you as well. "Come over here and help me crush Tink's dream of a soulmate!" You laughed as Tink gasped at your audacity. The rest of your company seemed more or less happy with how the night was going, but your captain was still less than enthused to join.

"If this is the same soulmate debate you've been going on about for the past 3 years, I will pass again. You already know my feelings on the matter." Crocodile's deep voice reverberated across the deck of the ship. Even if he wasn't giving orders, he still commanded the attention of everyone within earshot.

He gave a long drag of the bottle in his hand, and then turned to walk away. However you felt it was your duty as first mate to pester your captain into spending casual time with his crew.

"I may know your opinion, but would you be so kind and gracious to remind the rest of the crew? Perhaps?" You called out to the dark coat trying to run from the party, and saw him pause, then turn to walk back.

You could see some of the newer additions to the crew cower. You didn't blame them, Crocodile was an imposing figure, and was developing a infamous reputation as a pirate on the Grand Line. But he was your captain, and he would never hurt his crew, this you knew.

"If I ever met my soulmate," Crocodile began, "I assume it would be when I attempt to kill them." He took another sip from his bottle. This was one of the rare moments he was not puffing a cigar you suddenly realize. It made his face look younger, as though he was actually a man in his 20s as he claimed he was.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Crocodile made eye contact with you. "When I realize I can't kill them, I'll call out for you." You felt your heart skip a beat. "Then you can finish them for me."

It was purely the grog's fault for making your face warm. The lack of a sea breeze was also suddenly apparent. But you couldn't be flustered, not when you were the one who asked for this answer.

You smiled, doing your best to brush off the tension. You were still maintaining eye contact with him after all. "Well there you have it. Not exactly the opinion I remember, but I hope I can live up to your expectations, Cap'n."

Crocodile nodded, then told you all to start to sober up or get to bed. "I don't need a crew of drunks on the Grand Line, or else we will never make it to the New World."

Your crew began to disperse and you went below deck to your cabin. You really hadn't had much to drink that night, yet your chest felt tight.

You thought you had learned your lesson, but no. Even after promising yourself you wouldn't, you became attached to your crew. Even after your last one fell apart. Even after you watched your first captain, your savior, be executed, you fucked up and dove straight into a different crew expecting it to be different.

You laid down in your bed, staring at the ceiling, the world slightly spinning. Suddenly all you can think about is when you met Croc.

It was little more than 3 years ago now, wasn't it? A whole 3 years since Roger died. The weight is still heavy in your chest, but not nearly as devastating as it was in Logue Town that day. You were a wreck, physically and emotionally.

After watching the execution, you were too heartbroken to join the others in pursuit of the One Piece. Your world has just officially ended, the crew was technically already disbanded, but now there was no hope of getting it back.

You ended up in some local bar. No one recognized you, and in the haze of all the excitement following Roger's death, why would they? You had just been some nobody apprentice who happened to stick on his ship after Roger saved your life.

But your sorrow did catch someone's eye.

You sat at the counter of this dive bar in Logue Town, mindlessly stirring whatever number drink sat in front of you now. You had run out of tears, and sat stuck in some frozen state of grief.

However, this sad portrait of yourself did not seem to deter someone from sitting next to you.

You paid them no mind, just staring into empty space, not enough energy to even remember you were still alive.

"You were a member of the Pirate King's crew weren't you?"

A deep voice rattled from the stranger, but it was his words that really caught your attention.

"How'd you figure?" You had paused your stirring at first, but now focused on your drink to avoid eye contact. You were a mess, you could feel your puffy eyes, and were still sniffling every so often.

"There's no reason anyone in this town should be sad that someone like him died. So, you must have known him, right?" The deep voice continued, and you could feel their eyes staring, but didn't have the strength to meet them.

"Well, you caught me. Going to take me in and see if you can get a reward? I'm afraid you won't find any posters of me though. I tended to get lost in the crowd, you could say." After that statement you finally grasped the glass in front of you and decided to knock back what was left. If this was the end of your little pirating career, so be it. It can die with Roger.

"Will you join my crew?"

Your head snapped up at that, and you finally looked up at the stranger.

Long black hair was slicked back to show all the sharp features of the man's face. A strong square jaw, a prominent, perfect nose, and pale, piercing eyes, hooded by thin black eyebrows. Undoubtedly, even in your drunken haze, you were sure sober you would agree the man was handsome.

After a moment to take in this stranger all you could manage was a "Excuse me?"

He smiled - no, smirked - and pulled a cigar out from his coat. "I could use someone with your experience on my crew." He carried on, as if you were discussing the weather outside. He lit the cigar with a lighter you hadn't noticed him pull out. Perhaps it was the booze, but looking at this guy, he almost seemed… fuzzy, around the edges.

"Having someone who once worked for the Pirate King should help me become the next Pirate King."

The stranger took a long drag from his cigar, then exhaled over the counter. You didn't know where the barkeep was now, but at the moment, it felt like you and him were the only people in the building.

You should be mad. Enraged at the audacity of someone to come up to you on the worst day of your life, and to ask you to work for them. But you felt nothing.

No. That wasn't right. You did feel something.

You chuckled. Giggled even. A small laugh that built up till you were laughing, nearly hysterically. You hadn't felt like this sort of light headed elation in a long time, and it was nice.

After taking a moment to catch your breath you finally looked back at the stranger. He didn't look upset at your reaction. He just kept smoking his cigar, waiting for an answer.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"I am Sir Crocodile, captain of the Neverland Pirates."

"Hmmm. Well, Sir Crocodile, I can tell you now that you have no chance of being Pirate King." You smirked back at him, propping your head up on your hand as you leaned against the counter.

This response still didn't bother the man. If anything, you swore he almost seemed… satisfied by your answer. Perhaps he knows what's coming next.

"I can help you out on the Grand Line and maybe help you get to the New World, but I promise," you leaned in towards this captain, staring him down. "You will never be the man Roger was. No one will."

Yet Crocodile was unperturbed.

"So you'll join my crew?"

You leaned back and reassessed your empty glass. You cast a quick glance at the bar and then back at the other pirate.

"Sure. I don't have anything better to do anyways."

You thought back in Logue Town you could never feel the same way about Crocodile's crew that you felt with Roger's, but you were always the fool. Now you are attached.

Now you need a reason to leave.

You couldn't waste your time or your heart with them. You had already died once with Roger, and if you stayed any longer you know you could never leave alive. You got up from bed - still plenty tipsy you swayed over - to your dresser.

Middle drawer, back left, underneath some no longer worn t-shirts was a small box. You opened it.

There were several small scraps of paper. Vivre cards.

As a child on Roger's boat, you were ecstatic to learn about vivre cards. A simple way to know the people you loved were alive and safe, and be able to find their exact location? It was too good to be true.

When you remember the feeling of Roger's paper burning in your hands at his execution, you knew the reality of vivre cards.

Your fingertips gently sorted through the papers you had made for some of Roger's crew. Each had a tiny name written in a corner. Shanks, Buggy, Ray, Gaban, Oden, and a few others of people who had been most important to you.

Maybe you could leave this crew and seek out the others. Rayleigh had always said he would retire at Sabaody, and your crew was bound to get there soon, hopefully in a couple months. The ache in your chest; you missed your old family. This could be the excuse you needed.

With a heavy sigh you closed the box and hid it away again. Sleeping on it would be good. Sleeping away the booze would also be nice.

Maybe then the tears would stop silently slipping down your face.

It turns out the excuse of seeing your old crew was unneeded. The news coo was kind enough to drop a reason to leave directly in your lap.

You stared at the newspaper for a long moment. The sinking feeling in your gut still did not go away.

You walked up to the bow where Crocodile was standing. He stared at the horizon as you approached the next island, Water 7.

"Captain."

Crocodile turned to look at you, face neutral, signature cigar in his mouth.

"Morning. The news any good?"

"They want to make you a Warlord."

Your own feelings were swept under the rug as your crewmates overheard. Instantly the deck was buzzing, the news spreading and making the once sleepy, slightly hungover crew come back to life.

"This is perfect!" The helmsman Diat yelled, a grin wide on his face. "Not only do we get the Marines off our back, it's recognition that we are some of the strongest pirates on the Grand Line!"

You would have laughed at him if not for the ice in your chest. Similar celebratory remarks were made all around you, but you didn't have the strength to pretend this was good news to you.

All you could feel was an icy feeling on your back, right where you had a large scar that tore up a long faded tattoo. But time could not get rid of the mark you could never forget about, no matter how much you wanted to.

Amid the spontaneous party you finally turned back to Crocodile. Amidst it all, he was still only looking at you.

Your words were quiet compared to the raucous around you, but your captain heard you just fine.

"If you become a Warlord I'm leaving the crew."

A couple of nearby crew gasped, heads whipped in your direction and murmurs quickly took place of all the yells.

Instantly protests, people yelling your name, yelling their arguments, but it all fell on deaf ears as you stared down your captain.

Tink of all people knew it was futile to argue with you, and turned to the man of the hour. "Captain! You can't just let your first mate leave!"

Before she could continue, Crocodile interjected. "You never planned on making me King of the Pirates, right? So you never planned on staying on this ship anyways."

This evoked even more protests from the crowd. Many of them weren't sure what you two were talking about, and some had begun to yell again.

The sounds were starting to be overwhelming, and this was not a conversation that required the whole crew anyways.

"That's enough from everyone!" You yelled over the cacophony. The crew went quiet. "This is a conversation for me and the captain, the rest of you need to beat it! Do something useful, we will make a port soon."

The crowd was not placated in the least, but it was true the ship would be docked soon, and there were things that needed to be prepared beforehand.

"You heard them. Get back to work." Crocodile finished your command, and the crowd dispersed. You knew they would still be listening, but it didn't stop you.

"I refuse to be part of a crew that works alongside the Marines. If you become a Warlord you automatically become their dog - then you may as well be a dog of the celestial dragons." Your tongue burned even at the mention of the world nobles.

Crocodile took a long drag of his cigar. He looked away from you and sighed an exhale of smoke, then dragged his line of sight back to you.

"I haven't decided yet."

You bristled at this. "Are you suggesting they already offered this to you? And I had to find out through a newspaper?"

Crocodile took yet another drag, and you lost your patience with his nicotine addiction. "Answer me Crocodile."

Your captain sighed through his nose this time, some of the smoke reaching you, a familiar smell after all these years. It once may have been a nice fragrance, knowing your captain was near, but now it blinded you and stoked your anger.

"We are almost to Water 7. Let's save it for there."

Tensions were high, especially between you and Crocodile, when your mood worsened when he disappeared while you oversaw the docking. But you docked. You got the crew into a hotel. During this time the crew began splitting into sides, which was not something you had anticipated. But you ignored it all until finally, Crocodile returned and you cornered him into in a room alone with you.

He had no cigar, and you had no drink in hand. It was a painfully sober room.

Crocodile sighed and slumped into an armchair. He dragged his eyes across the room till they met yours. You refused to look away this time, jaw set with determination to stand your ground.

"I don't want to be the Marine's dog," Croc began. "But they offered me a deal."

"The deal that our crimes are excused? Big whoop, as long as we don't get caught it's almost the same."

"No," he sighed, a large ring covered hand dragging down his face in exasperation. "A deal to help take down Whitebeard."

That got you silent. For a moment, as you recalled every time you saw Roger and Whitebeard exchange blows and fight for days on end.

"You? Take down Whitebeard?" You laughed, but it was a dry and bitter thing. "Your bounty is $81 million berries. Your devil fruit is great and all, but it is by no means fight and beat Whitebeard good. Even if Newgate was without his crew, our entire crew would be wiped off the map. You've lost it if you truly believe that this is achieveable."

Crocodile glared from across the room. Not his usual, perpetual glare, but a genuine, freeze you in your tracks ice cold glare.

He stood up, all 8 feet imposing over you as he stalked across the room. "I have let you say plenty of cruel things to me, but this may cross the line."

But you were his first mate and you couldn't fear him if you were supposed to talk sense into him. "Cross the line? I'm not the one who is making deals with the Navy so I can sail us to our deaths at the hands of Whitebeard!" You were yelling now, no, roaring at your foolish headstrong captain.

"If you take that ship and that crew as it is now to the New World to fight Whitebeard and his sons, no one will come back alive!" Your heart was on fire with rage and frozen in fear. Rage at your captain, who is very much overestimating his abilities. Fear for your crewmates who have no idea what sort of danger their captain was going to put them in.

Crocodile was now truly enraged on the same level as you. He sneered down at you as he suddenly grabbed you by the neck - much to your shock. "I wanted you there to see me become the next Pirate King. But if you can't support me for this, one of the biggest moments in my life since I've been a pirate, then I have no need for you anymore."

With his free hand he opened the door that was behind you. A group of Marines walked in with cuffs ready. "To sweeten the deal, what better than to give a former Roger pirate to the Navy?"

You felt all the blood drain from your face, as fear for your own well being finally pierced your heart. You looked up at Crocodile, and you could feel tears begin to creep at the corner of your eyes. "You never fail to surprise me, Captain."

"Well done Sir Crocodile." One of the Marines spoke, and you could tell from their uniform it was a Vice Admiral, though you didn't recognize them.

"A public execution of a Roger's pirate should be a grand way to ring in your instatement as Warlord."

You felt the world slow down around you and felt Crocodile's grip on your neck slip at the Marine's sentencing.

Crocodile began to speak, "That was not what we agreed on," But your ears had begun to ring.

Growing up on the Oro Jackson, you had picked up some neat tricks. You found out you were hopeless with the color of observation haki, but had a special knack for color of arms. Perfect against those darn logia fruit users.

In a blink of an eye you ripped Crocodile's arm away from your neck and you made a mad dash past him. And jumped straight through a window, glass and all.

You could vaguely hear a commotion behind you as Marines ran after you, but it was lost with the ringing in your ears.

You could hear and feel your heartbeat, pounding throughout your body as you ran through the endless alleys and canals of Water 7. You could feel tears pierce through the wind rushing past your face as you ran, desperately with no objective.

All you could think about was the way the heat of Crocodile's hand felt on your neck, the cold metal of the rings that had pressed against your pulse.

Have you ever really touched Crocodile before?

…

You missed him. You didn't understand why. He had just betrayed you - fucking hell, he was just handing you over to the Navy as part of his deal to become a warlord, but god. You wanted to be with him anyways. You're not sure how long you've been in love with him; his sharp eyes, the smell of his cigars, the rings on his hands, but gods above.

You had fallen in love with Crocodile.

In your realization you slowed down. Your legs and lungs burned, you were gasping for air and not just because you had been running.

Has it always been this dark? When did the day leave you behind?

You now stood in some nondescript alley, dimly lit a golden hue by windows that lined it. It was a long alley, each end blocked by canals. How you arrived there you weren't certain. But you weren't alone.

At one end sand had appeared. And from it stepped your dear, awful captain Crocodile. You both stared at each other, both of you panting for breath.

"I didn't want it to be like this." Crocodile's voice cuts through the air to you. You knew you should run. But for some reason you couldn't find the strength.

"I didn't know they would execute you. I imagined they would send you to Impel Down." Crocodile continued to speak. You just stood there and listened as he walked towards you.

As you watched him, there was a strange look on his face. You've seen it before but still didn't know what it meant.

He stopped walking ten feet in front of you. The light was still too dim to see him clearly, but it was fine. You knew his face well enough.

"I won't let the Navy kill you. Not after what the nobles did to you, it feels wrong." You had never told Crocodile what the scar on your back was. It didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

"I think I'll feel better about this if I'm the one who kills you."

You knew this was coming. The second you saw him at the end of the alley. But you agreed with him. If you had to die at someone's hands, you would pick Crocodile over anyone else. Even if it meant he didn't feel the same about you, it didn't matter anymore. You were so tired.

It would be nice to see Roger again.

But then Rayleigh's face flashed in your mind. You still had to pay him a visit. You still had to visit Wano to see Oden. You wanted to see Shanks and Buggy find the One Piece.

You couldn't see Roger just yet.

So, in a sudden scramble, you turned around and ran.

The ground where you had been standing suddenly crumbled. You felt a gasp finally escape your lungs as you realized you almost gave up. But not yet. You had to save your crew too.

Then you finally ran out of luck. The dim light hid a hole in the cobblestones and you fell to the alley ground. You quickly twisted your body just in time to see Crocodile's scythe of sand arc straight towards you.

It hits you right in the chest, and crumbles to dust.

Confused, you run your hands through the sand that has landed on your lap. You're not cut in half - instead you just have sand all over you.

Crocodile change his mind? He was letting you go? Thoughts and heart still racing, you looked up at him.

Oh.

Oh no.

The horror on his face was plain to see - that was supposed to be a killing blow.

But he didn't hurt you.

Your hand jumped to your neck from when he grabbed you earlier. But in retrospect, you had just been shocked by the action, he hadn't harmed you.

Crocodile didn't hurt you.

No.

Crocodile couldn't hurt you.

Because he was your soulmate.

It was the look on his face that hurt you the most. The disgust, anger, horror - this man did not want a soulmate. He did not want you. So why bother sticking around?

You scrambled back to your feet. Even if he couldn't hurt you, the Marines still could.

So, with blurry eyes and a heavy heart, you ran away.

Faintly, you heard a painfully familiar voice call your name, but then all that was left was the wind as you ran.

pt. 2 (if you want, but this might be better as a one shot)

#one piece #sir crocodile #crocodile one piece #crocodile x reader #one piece fanfiction #zirowrites #x reader

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