#maybe Island in the Sun for the Chao or

[videodromeda]

I think they should have a Harry Belafonte song in the next Sonic movie no reason other than it would be cool

[blluespirit]

i wish that there was more time between the day of black sun and sozin's comet bc zuko's official desertion from the fire nation would have the most insane ripple effects (and it would be nice to see the gaang interacting a bit more than we got but hey i'll take what i can get)

zuko's desertion would have been essentially impossible for the fire nation to bury since it was such a big deal that he returned at all. so i imagine the smear campaign against zuko would have been craaazy. i think it would have been interesting for the gaang to try and deal with that when navigating the FN. zuko would be very recognisable i think at this point, and it would have made staying hidden much harder. would they still have chosen ember island? maybe the kids didn't recognise zuko and azula during The Beach , but with the prince of the fire nation committing treason would there be more wanted posters? would there be more talk around the island? would zuko have to remain hidden while the rest go out and get food?

i wonder if zuko deserting and very meaningly committing his loyalty to the avatar influenced other soldiers in the FN to also desert? or would it have had the opposite effect and made people feel more patriotic since zuko was banished, returned under the guise of having killed the avatar, and then left when aang announced his survival to world during the failed invasion?

SPEAKING OF THAT!! the rumours around this would be INSANE. we know what really happened, but the public don't. did zuko and the avatar plan this so that there would be an inside man during the invasion and then zuko used that chaos to escape? what really happened in ba sing se if zuko didn't kill aang, but azula thought that he did? (again: we, the audience know the truth, but the general public don't). if zuko and the avatar where working together... for how long? was iroh involved somehow since he also disappeared the same time that zuko did? did iroh get captured on purpose to be close to zuko to possibly help him if needed? did zuko break iroh out of jail or did one of the guards or was iroh alone? you could spiral on this as just an average person in the avatar world for years like. if youtube existed in atla imagine the video essays breaking down all the conspiracies

its a kids show so obviously Nothing Bad Happened BUT in the Boiling Rock, zuko getting found out as not only an imposter (already, a very bad situation), a traitor (extremely bad), AND the traitorous (ex) prince of the fire nation (devastatingly terrible) would have been... incredibly dangerous for zuko. in zuko and iroh's original wanted poster, the official translation says “Permission is granted to kill them on sight” and this was before zuko has gone right ahead and committed Treason On Purpose. the warden is not going to be nice. when the warden visits zuko in his cell he literally tells him "If these criminals found out who you are, the traitor prince who let his nation down, why they'd tear you to shreds." the boiling rock would be hell trying to survive. it also puts a lot more weight on zuko refusing to leave sokka in their first escape attempt. also ozai obviously knew that he has his son was in prison bc he... broke in to the prison bc azula was there but then zuko manages to escape with sokka (another imposter) and suki and hakoda (POWs) and chit sang (a prisoner) and two of azula's trusted friends end up in prison for treason as well i just. that is literally insane for the average person to hear about. again, THE CONSPIRACIES!!

when zuko eventually does take the throne there's a lot of conjecture around what zuko did while he was banished and moreso, what he did the second time he left, this time voluntarily. i think zuko's loyalty would be questioned a lot; by other world leaders who are understandably wary about the fire nation and its motivations, but also by its own people - some who believe that zuko is a traitor to his country and is trying to sabotage it since he helped end the war.

idk these are all just me rambling but it would been so interesting to explore the implications of zuko leaving the fire nation and how that would have impacted the gaang and how they interacted with others in their travels. there are so many fic where zuko joins the gaang early, but neither myself with the aus that I have written, nor many that ive read have explored this very much or at all.

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: The Space Between Us

Prompt: I’m so glad you’re back! Can you write something where the reader & Luke are in an argument? Maybe he’s struggling when he gets back from Afghanistan or something? Idk you can be creative with the rest :) Thank you!

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: PTSD symptoms mentioned

A/N: thanks for the request, enjoy! 

You’re in the midst of scrubbing a dish clean when you see the headlights of Luke’s truck pull in the driveway. 

He cuts the ignition. The sun is long gone, set beyond the hills in the distance, so when the door opens and closes with a thud, you can’t get a good look at him. Suddenly, you realize how torn you are between being relieved that he’s finally home and still so angry at him for leaving in the first place. 

The fight you’d had a earlier had been a bad one– probably the biggest you’ve ever had. And Luke looks… God, he looks so tired as he walks across the driveway, his silhouette illuminated by the porch light you’d left on. His head is hanging low, his feet trudging along the steps towards the front door. Under normal circumstances, you would greet him there– throw your arms around him the second he walked inside and bury your face in his neck. But tonight you can’t– because these aren’t normal circumstances. 

Instead, as soon as he steps through the door, you set the dish down and turn to face him. 

“Hi baby,” he murmurs. The pet name he uses makes you cling to the small sliver of hope that maybe things will be okay. 

But still, your eyes burn with unshed tears. “Hi.”

“How has your day been?” he attempts. 

But you shake your head. “Luke, I really can’t fake pleasantries tonight.”

He scrubs his face with his hand and sighs, like he can’t wait to be done with this entire situation– the fighting, the chaos, you. As unbearable of a thought it is, you can’t help but glance at it in the horizon. What if that’s what’s happening here? What if he’s sick of you? What if his feelings for you had changed since he’d been away?

It’s a possibility– no matter how badly you don’t want it to be. 

“Listen, I’m just so tired–” He sounds defeated… empty. 

“And you think I’m not?” You challenge. 

He shifts before gripping his neck with his hand, still hovering near the door, not daring to move closer. It’s as if he’s already distancing himself from you… As if he’s done. 

“Well if we’re both tired, this probably won’t be a very productive conversation. Why don’t we just pick this back up after we’ve gotten some rest?”

You dig your nails into your palms, a distraction from the pain in your chest. He doesn’t get it– this anxiety that’s been making a home inside your chest. No matter how hard you push and plead. And you don’t know what else to say to make him get it. 

“How am I supposed to know you’d still be here by tomorrow?” 

His jaw tenses. 

“That’s a pretty fair possibility considering the shit you pulled today.”

Luke sighs. “I know I did and I’m–”

“You stormed out,” you say, taking a step forward so that you can grip the island counter. “You left.”

He opens his mouth to speak, and you know you need to let him talk. You know he deserves a chance to say his piece. But you’re still just so angry… you’re consumed by it. So you continue. 

“What if I had done that to you?” You ask. “What if I had been the one to take off and then just… not come home for over twelve hours?” 

He squeezes his eyes shut. 

“You’d be pretty worried, huh? Maybe a little mad…”

“Baby–”

“No, you’d be fucking pissed, Luke! I know you would. So why is it okay for you to do that to me? Why is it okay to take off and not answer any of my calls or texts?”

The pained look on his face tells you everything you need to know– that you’re right. 

“You say you have dreams– nightmares where you can’t find me,” you say, using the things he’s told you to prove your point– digging where you know it’ll hurt, because you’re just so fucking angry, and you need him to understand. “That was my reality today, Luke. You put me through your literal fucking nightmare.”

“Please don’t,” he mumbles, his head hanging low.

“I was so worried. I- I didn’t know where you were,” your voice breaks. I didn’t know if you’d ever come back– is what you don’t say… what you’re too afraid to say. 

When Luke got back from Afghanistan, that was supposed to be it. You were supposed to be through with the distance, through with the heartache, through with being terrified that every time the phone rang, it was someone telling you he was dead. 

But although he was discharged almost three months ago now– it doesn’t feel like it. Instead it feels like walking on eggshells and waiting for the other shoe to drop. And while you want to play it off as just an adjustment period and some misunderstandings, it’s starting to feel bigger than that. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice still empty-sounding. “I didn’t want to make you worry.”

“To make me worry?” 

“I was going to call,” he explains, “But my phone died. And I– I needed some space.”

“Some space?” You gawk. “Are you kidding me? You needed space?”

He nods, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours. 

“Luke, you’ve been gone for three years. All you’ve had is space– all I’ve given you since you’ve been back is fucking space– I have waited and waited for you to come home from the army. I counted down the years, the months, the days– I lived on letters and shitty phone calls where I could barely even hear you because of the horrible reception. And now… you’re out, you’re home. You’re finally here, except you’re not. You never fucking came back from Afghanistan, Luke. You haven’t even given me a chance to not give you space because you’re not fucking here.”

There’s an eerie silence, a dramatic, drawn out pause that only seems to magnify the space between you. 

“That’s not fair,” he says. 

“Not fair? You really want to talk not fair, Luke? What’s not fair is leaving in the middle of an argument and not coming home all day. What’s not fair is not calling or texting or giving me some shred of fucking evidence that you were alright. I mean, do you understand how fucking worried I was? Do you even care?”

“Of course I fucking care– I just… I needed to–”

“Needed to what?” You snap, your voice raising as your arms flail in the air. “To take off? To leave?”

“I don’t–” Luke stammers, sounding so defeated. “I don’t know.”

Another beat of eerie silence settles between you. After only a moment, you can’t take it anymore. So, you ask the question you’ve been terrified to know the answer to. “Are you going back?”

His head snaps up, like he’s surprised you even asked. 

“Th-this is all my fault. Fuck, I should never have let this get—” he stammers. 

“Don’t,” you say, your voice louder than you thought it could be at your current state. “Just don’t, Luke.”

But he continues. 

“It’s the right thing to do,” he tells you, and you have to swipe the tear sliding down your cheek before he can see. “I just…”

“Just tell me, are you going back?” you say, harsher than you intended. 

“No,” he shakes his head, adamant. Finally he looks at you. You hoped that would’ve given you some sort of comfort, but it doesn’t. Instead, you see pleading eyes, usually so warm you want to sunbathe in them, so familiar that you want to curl up and call them home. But tonight they’re neither warm nor familiar. 

“Then what is it? What the hell is going on?” you say. 

“I don’t know what to do, but I can’t keep— I can’t keep…” 

“Just tell me,” you plead, voice rising. Because you can’t stand this. “Please, just fucking tell me. Luke, I’m begging–”

“I can’t do this,” he finally spits out. “I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t.”

And there it is. 

The nail in the coffin. 

The final straw.  

Your worst nightmare.

“Right,” you exhale the rest of the air in your lungs. Before you burst into a sobbing mess in front of him, you give Luke a short nod and turn away. 

“Wait–” you hear him call. 

“It’s fine, Luke,” you say over your shoulder without looking at him. “Like you said earlier, we’re both tired.”

“Wait, wait,” he follows you up the stairs, but you were too far ahead of him.

“Just forget it–” you say, voice choking with tears. 

“Baby– stop, please–” he gets out just as you slam the door to the bedroom shut.

You stifle your sob in the sleeve of your sweater, back pressed against the door for a moment while you try to collect yourself. Then you walk to the bed and collapse on the mattress in a heap. As you curl up, clutching Luke’s pillow like it’s your lifeline, you try desperately to breathe between sobs. And then, even though you know he won’t, you hope with everything inside of you that he comes after you. 

…

You can’t sleep. Whenever you try, you just feel like you hear sounds of him leaving again– the screen door snapping shut, the zipper of his bag, the fear and anxiety only intensifying as the hours wear on.

All you have is silence and your thoughts.

I can’t do this, he had said. His direct words. 

You bury your face in his pillow as you try to hold back more tears, wondering if you’re imagining the way his scent is starting to fade from the fabric. How could you miss someone living under the same roof as you?

You roll onto your back again as you stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan whirl around and around steadily. 

“Fuck,” you mutter as you sit up. You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes frustratedly before turning the lamp on. Was Luke even home? Or had he taken off again? You hate that you even have to wonder. How can things have gone so wrong so fast? 

As soon as the doubt creeps into your mind, you know it’s there to stay– at least until you can see for yourself whether or not Luke is still home. So, you swing your legs over the bed and head for the door. Except as soon as you swing it open and step forward into the hall, your feet collide with something– and before you know it, you’re crashing to the floor with a hard thud. 

All the air is sucked from your lungs as your stomach collides with the carpet beneath you. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” Luke’s familiar voice hovers above you. 

And while you don’t really have the oxygen in your lungs to answer his question, when you turn your head and open your eyes, you can see the faint outline of his features from the lamp you’d turned on in the bedroom. His eyebrows are scrunched together– like they’re concerned, and his mouth is slightly agape. 

“Baby, are you okay?” Luke repeats, his hand hovering on the outside of your hips. 

“No–” you stammer, flipping so that you’re lying on your back. You barely choke out the single word before you’re bursting into unfiltered tears– the blubbery kind, where you can barely breathe in between sobs. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he says, sounding panicked. He shifts, scooching forward so that he’s closer to you, but he still doesn't dare to touch you. “What hurts, baby?” 

All you can manage to do is shake your head before you move to cover your face with your hands– a feeble attempt at hiding from him. Like that would make any difference. At one point, you feel his fingers ghost along the fabric of your sleeve, trying to tug your hands from your face. 

“Look at me, baby,” he begs. But you just shake your head harder, resisting his pleas. 

“C’mon, I just want to know if you’re–” 

But he doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence before you break. Flinging your arms down, you shout, “No I’m not fucking okay! Nothing about this is okay!” 

He flinches back, arms dropping to his side. Instantly, another wave of tears well up in your eyes, choking out before you can stop them. And suddenly, you’re crying so hard you can barely breathe. You’re a mess– all blubbery and pathetic in front of him. But you don’t even have the energy to care anymore. 

“Just breathe, baby. Breathe,” he says. He moves like he’s going to reach for you– and you let yourself get your hopes up in that fraction of a second. But then he drops his arm back down and frowns, like he’s caught himself doing something he isn’t supposed to. The space between you now only makes you cry harder, gasping for air in between sobs. He’s right beside you, but in some ways, he feels even further than when he was across the ocean. 

“I’m sorry I tripped you.”

You shake your head. “I’m– I’m not crying because you tripped me,” you bellow. Before you can see the questioning look on his face, you continue. “What–” you try to say, but your voice is too choppy. “What… are… you even–��� you stammer harder. “What are you even doing out here? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry–” Luke repeats. “I didn’t want to sleep on the couch– I wanted… I wanted to make sure you were okay, I wanted to be there if you needed anything.”

You pause, realization washing over you. 

Luke was here–

Outside the bedroom door.

Sleeping on the floor like a goddamn golden retriever. 

But why? After everything he’d said– and the way he’d acted earlier? 

“You dumbass,” you snap, finally sitting up from the carpet. “I did need you. Why don’t you get that? Why don’t you understand that I fucking need you? That I’ll always need you!”

“I–” he stammers. “I don’t– I didn’t mean to upset you–”

“Well guess what? You leaving upsets me! You sleeping in the hallway instead of in our bed upsets me! You not wanting me anymore upsets me!”

“Wait– what? Not wanting you?” he says, his tone disbelieving.  

“Not being able to do this anymore– or whatever you said. Guess what, Luke? That’s upsetting!”

“I didn't mean it like that–” he says quickly, his eyes downcast as he seems to try to think if he really had worded things that way. “I– Fuck, I just– I just meant I couldn’t fucking handle… I couldn’t handle things–. I couldn’t deal with this… this feeling inside of me since I’ve been back from the army– I didn’t mean you– God, baby it was never you–”

“But–” you whisper, shaking your head. “You said–”

“I don’t remember what I said–” Luke explains. “I bet it was fucking stupid– I’ve been so overwhelmed and frustrated at myself. I don’t know what I said, but I promise I didn’t mean it like that, baby.”

You close your eyes at his answer, everything clicking into place. Is it possible that this was just all one giant misunderstanding? Did Luke still want to be with you?

“I thought…” you stammered, your voice next to nothing. “I thought you were done with me. You said you were done.” 

More tears escape down your cheeks and you duck your face to hide from him once again. 

“No– no. God, I’m so sorry… I can’t,” he says, his voice low and tired. “I just don’t feel like myself since I’ve been home. I don’t know what to do and I’m always on edge… I can’t breathe half the time. But I swear it’s not you–” he swallows and takes a moment to compose himself. 

“Then what is it?” You plead. “Why can’t you stand being home with me? Why aren’t I enough?”

God, you sound pathetic– but after the emotional roller coaster Luke had put you through these last few months, you really couldn’t help it. 

“I don’t know what it is–” he admits. “I wish I did, but I don’t. But please trust me, baby girl, you are enough. You’re more than enough. I mean, you are the only thing that makes me even feel alive anymore. I can’t believe you haven’t gotten sick of me– I don’t know how you’ve put up with this for so long.”

He lets out a loud huff when you launch yourself into his lap– completely erasing the distance between you two on the floor once and for all. Before he knows what’s happening, you’re winding your arms around his neck and burrowing your face in the crook of his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. He hesitates, but only for a moment, before his arms are securely wrapping around your waist, anchoring you to him. He buries his face in your hair, breathing you in. 

“Because I love you, you idiot,” you sniffle. 

He squeezes you tighter, holding you to him like he’s scared you’ll disappear. You know the feeling, all too well. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispers into your hair. “I- I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. Everything sets me on edge– every noise, every thought. 

When you pull back, your heart aches as soon as you see tears glistening in Luke’s eyes. You cup the outside of his face, your thumb trailing up and down his cheek. “We can figure it out,” you promise. “We’ll get you to see someone– a doctor or a therapist, or someone that can help. We’ll figure it out.”

He nods like he actually believes you. 

“I know you’re tired,” you say, shifting to move from his lap. “Let’s just go to bed, okay? We can figure the rest out in the morning.”

He nods and lets you tug him to his feet. You cling to his hand as you walk towards the bedroom, afraid that if you let him go, he’ll disappear again. 

“I can take the couch,” he says softly, making you halt in place. You turn to face him almost instantly. 

“What?” You shake your head, brow instantly furrowing. “No–” Instantly, you feel your anxiety creeping up again. 

“I just– I can take the couch if you want space.”

“No, Luke. I don’t want space. Do you want space?”

He shakes his head quickly.

“Good,” you say. “Then stay with me. Please.” 

He nods, while you walk him the rest of the way to your bed. He waits for you to crawl to your side closest to the wall before he slides under the sheets beside you. He looks stiff– awkward when he first lays down, but you don’t give him long before you’re scooting into his side, resting your head on his chest. 

“Thanks, for being patient with me,” he mutters. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll figure this out,” you say. “I love you.”

He gathers the hand you have resting on his chest in his own, lacing your fingers together and giving it a tight squeeze. “I love you, too.”

You exhale, noticing that even breathing feels easier with him beside you. 

[akitasimblr]

more twigs!! household one has been lucky these last days! and with 15 new twigs we are gonna get a new item!

say hello to this green bee box! the watcher thought it could be a good idea to stirr some chaos *evil laugh*

okay... robin didn't like the idea. he wanted the watcher to save the twigs to get enough to buy a shower. sorry man...

thea likes to tell stories, and what crazy stories she tells!!! now she wants to convince the team to breed an evil chic! sebastian did discover something about a wrecked ship on a nearby island; and now thea wants to get a team to go to the volcano too. i think the sun is making them have hallucinations ... maybe? 😁☀️

dodo has been flirting with hassan - a LOT - and hassan has been welcoming all dodo's flattering words ❤️ but hey, people, get a bath, PLEASE! 😂😂😂

eleina invited dodo for a waterfall shower; but apparently he refused...because eleina really god mad about something...? 😶

so, sebastian is determined on crafting a TOILET! you go, man! hassan is today's farmer and robin decided to bond with the bees... yeah, bad idea 🤭 and paradise just sstated the obvious "seb, that doesn't look like a toilet"... 😋

oooooh!! dodo accepted after all! and now dodo and eleina are flirting at the waterfall!! how romantic!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

robin and hassan romance is building up! paradise, thea and sebastian spend a lot of time together talking about the weirdest things, and i love them for that 🥰🤗

and damn, we have a love triangle here! dodo-hassan-robin are in serious danger of becoming a throuple 😁

yes eleina, it's your last hours on the island and you'll finally return to some normality, at least, somewhere with basic conditions 🤭

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@theosconfessions @bloomingkyras @invisiblequeen @bumblebeessims @riverofjazzsims @westonsims00

[firsttimewriter92]

Neighborly shenanigans Pt. 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! reader (Neighbor AU)

Part 2; Part 3; Part 4

Description: You´ve just moved in a couple of weeks ago, trying for a new start. A brief encounter with your neighbor gets your endorphins and imagination going. What is it about the mask?

Warnings: cursing, some dirty thoughts, fluff, a little pining

Word count: 1.917

A/N: Hi everyone <3 This is my very first Simon Riley x reader fic. I´ve written about several characters of CoD but Ghost was always kind of an enigma to me. I never knew how to make him the love interest. But and idea popped into my head after reading some characterization that made it much easier to write for him. So here you go :) Let me know if a part 2 is something you´d be interested in.

“Jesus fucking Christ” you swore as you tried your best to push your heavy apartment door open and balance your bag and groceries through the door. It was a struggle to say the least, but you were damned if you did second trips. Grumbling through your teeth you saw no other possibility than setting down your bag, holding the door open with your foot and grabbing your groceries a little more securely. Bending your knee, you gave your door a forceful push and slid through into your small hallway. Foregoing taking off your shoes you made your way into your open kitchen and set the heavy paper bags down on your kitchen island.

A sigh escaped you and you took a moment just to stand in your kitchen and take in the chaos around you. Half emptied moving boxes were strewn all around your living room, amidst not yet hanging shelves, plastic plants and several DIY projects. Another sigh left your lungs with a huff. Moving and starting anew had seemed like your only option a couple of weeks ago but now you dreaded the silence. You wanted this, ___, you thought. It was your decision.

Your new job was everything you ever hoped for, and training turned out to be smooth sailing. You loved it, you loved your apartment, even though it was far from being finished yet. But still, what you´d left behind still lingered in the back of your brain all too clearly at times. Especially when your heavy door closed behind you every evening and there was nothing but you, your DIY projects, an occasional phone call with your parents and then silence. Silence to wallow in, rake your brain and memories. Memories not even a good Podcast or music were able to drown out.

You weren´t as close with your colleagues yet as to be invited out to the pub after work but that was to be expected. The chances were good though. Maybe just a couple of days more and you´d have at least some kind of social interaction. One step after the other, you reminded yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Your own impatience with yourself was yet again trying to make you feel like you´d made a mistake by moving. A humorless laugh bubbled from your lips as you shook your head. Calm down, you thought. This is your life, your pace. Relax.

A couple of minutes later your food was stored away, veggies and salmon steaming away and finally you sat down on your couch, glass of wine in hand and Netflix on your TV.

“Bloody hell” you cursed as a shot of adrenalin set your brain into overdrive. Your bag. You jumped off your couch and hurried over to the door. Swinging it open with a yank you initially thought someone had put out the lights in the corridor. All you saw was black and not a second later you collided with something solid.

Shaking your head, you realized three things. It was 7 o´clock on a warm day in July, so it couldn’t be dark out already. Your hallway had several windows and yes, the sun was still out. The black wall you just ran into turned out to be a massive chest.

Heat was ascending your neck as you took a small step back and lifted your head to look at the face this quite impressive physique belonged to. What the…?

Before you stood a man, several inches taller than you, frozen in place with his arm lifted as if he was just about to knock on your door. He looked down on you with impressive, hazel eyes. Honey blond, tousled hair adorned his head, falling slightly onto his forehead, wet tips clinging to his temples and a bead of sweat disappearing behind his ear. But that was about all you could make out.

Seeing people wearing a facemask had of course not been an unusual sight for the last three years but he wasn´t wearing one of those surgical ones. His nose, mouth and chin were covered in thick, black material, even spanning over his cheekbones and disappearing behind his ears. When your eyes caught his again you saw them narrowing just slightly and one blond eyebrow ticking upwards.

Something wriggly moved inside your belly.

The man slowly lowered his arm, simultaneously lifting the other slightly, holding out your bag.

“This yours?” a deep, calm voice broke through the silence and the wriggly something inside you spread out towards your chest, down your arms and into your fingertips. You swallowed, trying to gather your wits again.

“Uhm…yes. Yes, that´s mine. Forgot about it” you said with a nervous laugh as you took it from him. He hummed deep inside his chest in understanding. The sound only letting your eyes snap onto his again trying to decipher if the squinting was an annoyed one or an amused one.

Amused, as it turns out. He took a deep breath, the black material of his running shirt as you now realized it was, stretching across the expanse of his chest.

“You know, that´s how you get your identity stolen. Or at least your wallet.” Yeah, there was no question now, he was grinning behind his mask, his tone mildly rebuking but not at all belittling.

A small smirk of your own crawled onto your lips as you cocked out your hip and nodded your head.

“You´re absolutely right, Sir. I´ll cuff my bag to my wrist from now on so this inconvenience shall not occur to you a second time.” You want to be cocky, mister? Fine with me.

Your answer made him chuckle. It was short but genuine. One hand in his pocket he stepped back slightly and only now did you notice the heat that his body had emitted. With one last narrow of his eyes, making the edges crinkle ever so slightly he answered. “Not an inconvenience, Miss. Have a good evening.” He nodded once and walked away to your right.

“Y-you too” you cursed the way your words tumbled. To your surprise he halted in front of the door next to yours and your heart jumped into your throat as he took out his keys. Your eyes still fixed onto his side profile (you still couldn’t really make out any features), he gave you one last look before opening his door.

“And thank you” you rushed out.

He only lifted one hand to give you a small little wave that seemed way too juvenile for a man of his stature and closed his door.

Kind of shellshocked you turned around yourself and let your door fall shut behind you. Clutching onto your bag you didn’t even notice how long you were just standing in your hallway, trying to sort out the wriggling nerves. Who was that? Idiot. Your neighbor. Your neighbor that you´d never seen before. A man like him you´d remember seeing. There´d never been any noise from the apartment next to yours so you just thought it was either a very quiet tenant or one that only went there to sleep.

Sitting down on your couch again you stared at the wall behind your TV. He was behind that wall, doing…things. Existing. Why did that feel so exciting to you? Maybe it was just because that´d been your first real social interaction apart from talking to your colleagues?

Laughing incredulously at yourself you buried your burning face in your hands and giggled. No. No that wasn’t it and you knew it. It was stupid. So very stupid and weird and nerdy and…that damn mask!!

“Whhhyyyy…..?” you moaned grinning and rubbed your temples, finally letting all the pent up adrenalin and endorphins rush through your blood stream unstopped. What was it about men wearing those damn masks? Not being able to fully see their face. Having to find out what there was to them by just their actions.

The fist time you really thought you´d lost your mind was when you actually developed a burning crush on a literal tin can from the Star Wars universe. Oh yeah, sure. Give me a brooding, sarcastic, overworked loner with PTSD and give him a freaking child to protect. Watch him become a devoted, loving single parent. Of course! Yes, let me thirst after him. And did it stop there? Of course not. The pandemic hit and the lockdown had everyone in a chokehold.

The only chokehold you wanted to be in at the time however was one carried out by a video game character called Ghoul from “Call of Obligation”. Tatted up, burly, sharp, dutiful, loyal and fucking hot.

The only thing you were able to see of him? His eyes. Just his eyes and an occasional forearm here and there. Everything else covered in tactical gear and a scary facemask. God that character haunted your dreams almost every night. And now, you had his existing, breathing, heat emitting, real human equivalent living next to you. You felt your insides burn as another funny noise came from your mouth. There had to be something wrong with you. Why was half a visible face or even less, so damn attractive to you?

“Shit must be some kind of kink” you murmured to yourself as you reached for your wine glass.

Why was he wearing that mask anyway? People weren´t obligated to wear one anymore. Was it some kind of training technique while running?

Anyhow, you appreciated the encounter. Your mood instantly better even though the both of you hadn’t talked much at all. He seemed witty. Cocky almost and you liked that.

Emptying your wine, you put the glass back in the dishwasher and walked over to your bathroom when you heard it. The shower in the next apartment was running. Immediately you halted all movement and tried to not even breath. The situation seemed so delicate, like thin glass ready to break. You stared at the wall when something else caught your ears.

No. Did you hear this right? Was he…?

You walked carefully over to your shower and stepped in. Trying not to care about how crazy you must look at this moment, you turned your head to the wall slightly, closed your eyes and listened as hard as you could. There it was.

Low, melodic and absolutely captivating. Over the sound of the water hitting the tile you heard your neighbor singing. Your forehead hit the tile and you breathed as quietly as possible, marveling in the baritone sweetness that could be heard through the wall. All too soon, about a minute later it was over. The water was shut off, the singing stopped.

As if in trance you got your nighttime routine going and a couple minutes later, slid into bed. Knowing where his bathroom was now, you were positive that his bedroom had to be next to yours as well. You tried to hear more, but nothing else penetrated the walls. It made you glad actually. If you would be able to hear him in his bedroom, sleep would turn out to be an impossibility to achieve.

This way, you closed your eyes, got comfortable and let your thoughts drift and wander. Not long after, you were dead asleep. Your dreams yet again haunted, but now, the usual scary mask of Ghoul was replaced with a solid black one and instead of clawing at a fully clothed head between your legs, your fingers tangled into soft honey blond curls.

_____________________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading. Please consider interacting with this post and give me some feedback. Comments and reblogs always help not only to push my work that I love, but also help to improve my writing and get my imagination going.

Thank you for considering it <3

[the-moon-files]

Linked Universe / GN!Reader - Random Headcanons abt the Chain! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 (ur here!)

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (you/they/them), Guide Reader!

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Scenarios?

Stars: Wind, Wild, Sage, C*urage, K*ridai

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: i included the link from K*oridai (faces of evil), and the brunette Link from that old cartoon tv show,

& Trigger Warnings: none known.

☆

Wind (Wind Waker):

Misses being a big brother

LMAOOO I CAME FOR UR THROAT HAHAAA

ok chill chill he's doing okay

He's just not used to being the youngest in any given group, he used to be the oldest kid in charge of the younger ones and his little sister too

But dont get him wrong! He rlly does love the advantages that come with it,

and when he's feeling down abt not being older u usually cheer him up by reminding him he can be the biggest little shit he wants and every single Link will forgive him once he pulls out his baby seal eyes lmao

Ur the easiest to rope into horse playing/goofing off and he's very happy abt that

The others can be too serious for too long so he appreciates how u and him lighten them up by trying to give each other noogies (he loses most of the time)

As soon as Wind found out the others could play instruments, he immediately demanded they do campfire songs every night lol

(Most of the time one person caves, even just to idly play smth)

Likes inventing weird new games to play that'll convince as many other people to particpate, he used to do it back home too, like finding the prettiest rock on the island, that way his grandma and even adults could play too :)

Needs to sleep beside someone at night, bc he secretly likes it, back on his adventure going to sleep all by himself (unlike living with his grandma/sister) always was a little hard for him

Very hard to wake up in the morning, sleeps in the latest out of all the Links

("I'm a growing boy? Ofc i need my sleep, whats ur excuse??" @ the other Links who sleep in late lol)

Likes to sew! He's still learning, but his grandma used to teach him how so he could help her keep up with his growth spurts/recklessness tearing his clothes up

Idolizes u forever if you embroider, and will watch u like those videos of someone's cat who's fascinated by watching owner craft smth lol (like this ⚫️v⚫️)

Enjoys making stoic people crack their persona and laugh

Also has the wheeziest laugh youve ever heard, it makes u laugh every time, even when he started laughing over a dumb pun

Oh yeah, makes a foul amount of dad jokes for someone whos only like 14 💀

(He once managed to break Time and Legend, which then broke Wars and Twi, and it just continued down the Chain until everyone was crying or on the ground, he wears that shit like a badge and it literally made his confidence go 📈 puffed his chest out and everything lol)

Wild (Breath of the Wild):

U already know everything there is to know abt him??

I dont even have to say it, and it shows when ur around him lol

Like he'll go to do smth stupid like shield surf down death mountain in a unknown Hyrule, and before anyone can even realize thats what he's planning to do you've caught and stopped him and made a compromise to shield surf down some snow bluffs later instead

Or when u know he's gotten new ingredients in some other Link's Hyrule and is going to try and cook with them tonight, so u help him make a regular meal of smth else along with so the boys dont suffer stomaches

Like u can absolutely predict his bullshit all the time, just imagine the most adrenaline junkie thing he could do in that moment with the combination of things around him and you always know what tf he's up to, ur always right lol

Ur the only one who can get him to stop the chaos (besides maybe Time, weirdly enough Sky/Hyrule/Four bc they are the least likely to tell him to stop, so when they do, its usually a very, very bad idea)

Likes hair ornaments, he's got long hair for a reason after all

Likes u to style his hair, and esp if u teach him how to braid or do diff styles <333

He loves that u help cook/at least prep, and u make sure another Link helps too, bc thats a lot of ppl to make food for with little to no help 💀

(Makes u ur fav foods at even the slightest mention of them, like u wont even have to say ur craving Link's already whipped the pan out best housewife fr)

One of the few Links who's adventurous with his clothing, and trying new stuff

Wild was worried abt his Champion tunic getting messed up but was sad he couldn't wear it as much anymore

So u handmade him a new shirt that imitates the old one but with some new designs to represent the Chain! :)

He started crying.

He either hugs so lightly he seems like he's not enjoying it (no true, he's just trying to be polite)

Or he squeezes so hard be pops ur back and nearly breaks a rib

U got the latter for that shirt lol

Any new thing he doesnt remember how to deal with, like how to sew (he knows 1 stitch help), how to wash clothes (dont mix whites and blacks, and colors), how to soothe headaches/muscle aches etc.

He just wanders pitifully over to ur side and looks pitiful lol

Like he's a confused and saddened puppy

And just holds up whatever mess he's made like, "im so sorry, i dont know how to do this pls"

Bc he trusts u to know (the other Links may be hit or miss too tbh lmao)

And ur the least likely to clown him for it too, at least nothing he doesnt also find funny

Sage (Tears of the Kingdom):

So sue me, i enjoy this stupid-definitely-not-canon-unhinged-Link thats done with everyones bullshit and wants to be a hermit

SUEEE MEE ABT ITTTTT✨️

The first time u saw his hair nest and immediately clapped ur hand over u mouth in shock and tried to take a brush to it on sight

He fucking hissed at you.

Feral bitch.

Sage isnt like that all the time, but he was certainly the most distrustful and prickly out of all the Links

(U could smell it was like a defense mechanism from his adventure/past from a mile away, and knew with time that it'd fade away into his true self... like how u just knew Wild that well too)

U are the only person allowed to casually touch him, he shys away from the other Links, let alone strangers,and the first he allowed to help him with his hair

Tbh after u washed it out and got tangles and mats out and cut split ends off etc.

He almost teared up, and was extremely confused why

Def the type to not have realized he felt insecure lowkey abt it until it was fixed (he also was embarrassed to say he didnt rlly know how to take care of it)

Energy of a stray feral cat that leaves dead birds on ur doorstep without fail every morning and u leave a food bowl out in hopes he'll actually be your cat 💀

Extremely protective of you, and eventually the Chain, to the point where he might set someone's hair on fire or use runes on them

Like not enough to seriously injure but enough to scare tf out of ppl and have them running for their lives

(Did he literally growl at someone when they tried to flirt with you?? ... why is Twi encouraging him.)

Was unnerved by Wild at first but slowly got used to him and often butts into whatever private convo u two are having

Like just casually struts up and plops his head on ur shoulder and waits for attention, may complain loudly depending on how grumpy he is that day

(Wild's not getting jealous and constantly hogging u for cooking to get even more time with you what-)

Okay but unfortunately

Once those 2 got comfy with each other, they started tag teaming everyone

Like u can now bet that if an explosion happens in the distance, Sage definitely caused it, and if he's there, then Wild's there making him the explosives

(Same for if Wild's there, then Sage's there)

Def the Link that likes showing the most skin, he "gets overheated easily" - local half naked man justifies his nakedness

(coughtotallynototherreasonslikebeingshirtlessaroundyouallthetimecough)

Absolutely grievous clowning on the other Links, like its getting into bullyinggg 😭

His words are E rated for Everyone, no ones safe not even you

Sage: "wait, all those rings and nobody's ever put one on you? And you've never put on one someone else??🤔🤔"

Legend: ...😦

The rest of the Chain: 💀😭😶

Time, trying to hide he's choking on laughter so hard he's abt to fall into the firepit

Will occasionally team up with Wild to make a protective little border on either side of you while in towns/new Hyrules

U once offered to sing/hum for him after a nightmare while it was ur turn on watch (he sleeps up trees btw) and after u switched off w/other Link, u both went to edge of camp to sleep next to each other and he had the best sleep of his life like that

Now demands begs u to sing him to sleep every night, wont take "i dont sound that good tho" for an answer

Courage (The Legend of Zelda, 1989 Cartoon TV show):

Yeah... he's here too.

Just dont read this tbh

Enjoys being ✨️special✨️ by being the only hero twink out here with brunette hair

Was insecure abt it being curly/wavy until u slowly built his confidence

Bc he's got the most confidence in his strength, but not in much else tbh 😭

Actually will randomly have moments of responsibility or capability you didnt expect out of him bc he can be so silly and jokey all the time

Youll be lost as hell and he just "hey its ok the stars look like this so we go this way" and it works

Like the type of person u sort of avoid relying on bc he's like a playful jock type and then they randomly show theyre the captain of the team for a reason

Dont ask why, but hes good at knitting, shhhh no, no, no explanation he just secretly is he wont even tell u why or how or when he learned this he just "hehe, wouldnt u like to know princeyyy/princesssss/your majestyyyy"

Hyrule, and rest of Chain standing by, went to talk to one of the Great Fairies in a Hyrule once to try and get some info abt where to camp tonight or where nearest town was and before he could get close enough to ask,

Courage was already yelling like "YOOOO BIGGEST FAIRY WHATS UP?! u mind giving some poor lost fellas like us somewhere to go with ourselves tonight??"

They kept talking super casually and she laughed so hard that she let u guys stay near her that night to camp and be under fairy protection like no fairy boy Link needed 💀

Everyone was shocked, and thats how u all found out Courage is rlly good with fairies/their best friend no matter the Hyrule

Every time u guys learn smth new abt him it feels so unexpected, like out of left field or smth

It just never seems to fit his usual persona, or at least not what youd expect from him

So needless to say the first time u guys learned he could talk to magical objects that were powerful enough (like the fucking triforce)-

(this was apparently so normal he literally lived with a piece of it just in his room all the time????)

Has weird mixture of country boy vs. royal prince sensibilities?

It alarmed several Links. 💀

He can talk to Fi.

(Sky and you nearly cried)

Like he lived in the castle alongside Zelda so he inherited some spoiled/etiquette stuff, but he still would absolutely go splash in mud puddles in the rain

Would literally do fucking anything if it meant youd give him a kiss on the cheek

Likes to hug you a lot too, with his huge ass arms lifting u up (no he does not care how much u weigh ur going UP) and spinning u around

Its his favorite, almost as much as kisses

No but he's slay fucking Majora to get a kiss, like it's actually unbelievable and kinda endearing how excited he gets if u promise him one lmao

Koridai (Link: The Faces of Evil):

Omg not them putting Link's name in the title of the gameee i didnt know that 😭😭

Geezzz,, i dont know what im on

But ig heres that other silly ass Link if anyone feels like reading it

Will also fight any god, including Hylia, for a kiss

Actually astoundingly good at strategizing

Like after a few times in heat of battle him organizing Links, Time and Wars practically jumped him to include him in planning shit

He was similar to Courage to in that he just was cracking jokes all the time u didnt expect it, also he's significantly more sarcastic than Courage

U introduced him to dark humor and the laugh he laughed practically burst out of him, he looked shocked by his own laugh lmao

So he also now has a streak of dark humor he shows when u talk for while/sees someone also enjoys it

Its like his not-so-guilty-pleasure

Really good at baking? He apparently learned a lot of miscellaneous skills to better court someone and he now uses them fully to seduce you,

thru gift giving mostly, its is love language besides acts of service :)

(All Links do some amount of acts of service tho <3)

Rlly good at styling hair surprisingly, and at shield surfing??? What

Actually down to try Wild's experimental dishes...

And by that i mean he pranks the rest of you by sneaking the inedible bits into ur food

U may or may not have nearly choked him out for it and now he doesnt do it to you, and even was trying to act all pitiful abt it like "sorry lovely, but i just wanted to tease u bc ur so cute!! 🥺👉👈"

Like,, stfu u little shit 💀

He has the energy of a male orange cat, dont ask why he just is, and specifically the orange cat getting on top of the fridge or stuck between the the screen door and glasss door comically or smth 😭

Hes also loud as hell

One of the worst at stealth unless he just keeps his mouth shut completely, like his whispering is loud

He proclaims his affections very loudly too, like gettin u flowers and chatting ur ear off with what he likes abt u lol

No, like he can go for 20 minutes or more if u let him, u better stop him before he gets into the personality based compliments

Bc those sound wayyy too personal to be aired out in public ngl, like its so soft and domestic itll kill u lol

And he means every word too 👀

☆

I HATE THIS NEW FEATURE OR FUNCTION I SWEAR THIS DIDNT HAPPEN BEFOREEE!!!

😭😭 U ABSOLUTELY KNOW WHAT IT IS BY NOW, IT FUCKING POSTED MY DRAFT BEFORE IT WAS READY TO GO

God fuck this hellsite stop doing this meee

Thats it im just do what i do for the other blog and write it smwhere else and then copy paste onto the post this is ridiculoussss 😒😒

Well anyway, i hope if u read this before i updated and actually FINISHED THIS u come back and read it again!! :(

Sorry guys, but blame tumblr pls before u blame me 😔

(Yeah theres a lot of emojis leave me alone i feel strongly abt this)

Peace out,

🐤 Peep

I think ill start signing off my name ig, unless u guys wanna call me Moon that works too

[rafecameroncoke]

Tides of love

Summary: A forbidden romance brews between Rafe Cameron and reader, a local who knows the vibrant dynamics of the island.  As tensions rise and loyalties are tested, will love be enough to overcome the storms of their lives?

Warnings: None all fluff

The sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange hue over the beautiful obx. The sound of laughter mingled with the crash of the waves as the summer breeze swept through the air, carrying the scent of salt and adventure.

You were sprawled on the sand at the beach getting a nice tan, sipping a cold drink, watching as the Pogues surfed the waves, carefree and loud. Rafe Cameron, the golden boy of the Kooks, had always been a mystery to you. With his tousled hair and piercing blue eyes, he was a dangerous temptation, like a siren calling from the depths of the ocean.

You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest whenever he came around, but today felt different. As the sun dipped lower, Rafe appeared at the edge of your view, leaning against his black Jeep, a mix of bravado and vulnerability etched on his face. He glanced your way, and despite the rivalry between your friends and his, you couldn’t tear your gaze away. 

“Hey,” he called, his voice low and inviting, breaking the comfortable silence. “Hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual, though your heart raced. He walked over, hands shoved in his pockets, a slight smirk dancing on his lips. “You come out here often?” You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Only when I want to enjoy the view,” you quipped, gesturing to the surrounding beauty. Rafe chuckled, his laughter surprisingly genuine. “I meant the beach, but I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You let the playful banter flow, and for a brief moment, the weight of the world around you faded. Days turned into weeks, and your chance encounters with Rafe became more frequent. Whether it was while you were running errands or grabbing coffee, he always seemed to appear, either by accident or design.

You found solace in those stolen moments, the way his eyes lit up when he caught you smiling, the way he leaned in just a little closer as if sharing a secret. One evening, the sky painted a breathtaking gradient of pinks and purples, you found yourselves alone on the beach again.

The laughter of the Pogues faded into the background, and an electric tension filled the air. “Why do you hang out with them?” Rafe asked suddenly, his tone serious. “They’re my friends,” you replied, confused by the sudden shift. “Why do you care?” you asked “Because they’re… different.” He looked away, frustration etched across his handsome features.

 “I don’t want to see you get hurt.” You leaned closer, the warmth of his body radiating towards you. “I can take care of myself, Rafe. I’ve seen how you live. You’re no stranger to chaos.” His eyes flickered with something—pain, vulnerability, or maybe even longing. “You don’t know half of it.”

In that moment, the barriers between your worlds felt insurmountable, yet the chemistry was undeniable. You reached out, your fingers brushing against his. The air crackled as his gaze locked onto yours, and the world around you faded into a blur. 

As summer progressed, the tension between your friends and Rafe’s began to boil over. The rivalry reached a breaking point, culminating in a confrontation that threatened to tear everything apart. You stood in the center, a tug-of-war between loyalty and desire, feeling the weight of their expectations on your shoulders.

“You can’t be serious about him,” your friend Sarah exclaimed, her incredulous expression piercing through your resolve. “He’s a Cameron!” Sarah says “Rafe is more than just his last name and is also your brother!,” you insisted, a hint of defiance in your voice. “He’s not like the others.” But deep down, you were terrified.

Rafe’s life was filled with unpredictability, and you could sense that darkness lurking beneath the surface. That night, you found yourself at the beach, needing to escape the chaos. The beach was your sanctuary, the stars above twinkling like tiny diamonds. Just as you took a sip from your drink, Rafe appeared, his silhouette dark against the glowing backdrop.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Hey,” you replied, your heart racing.“I heard about the argument. I’m sorry if I put you in a tough spot,” he continued, concern lacing his tone. You shook your head, taking a step closer to him. “You didn’t. I want to be with you, Rafe, despite everything.” His gaze softened, and he closed the space between you, his hands finding yours.

“Then let’s not let them dictate what we have.” As your lips met, the kiss was electric, filled with all the unspoken words and desires that you had both held back. The chaos around you faded into the background, and for the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

The end.

AHHH MY VERY FIRST FIC PLS LMK HOW YOU GUYS LIKE IT! 🥹🩵

[amournoir]

ello ello! i'd like to request a rafe fic, he takes y/n on a date on valentines? 💌 can’t help falling in love w you: sfw oneshot w/ rafe

- 🖤

Chaos & Calm

pairing(s): rafe cameron x f!reader

count: 1.2k

warning(s): none just fluff

author’s note: hi hunny, thank you so much for the request! i hope you enjoy it 🤍

Rafe had always been the reckless Cameron, known for his wild antics and questionable choices. Yet, when it came to Y/N, his usually fearless demeanor melted into a mix of nerves and uncertainty. Days before Valentine's Day, he found himself haunted by the idea of asking her out. 

One afternoon, in the sun-drenched chaos of the Outer Banks, Rafe approached Y/N. Surprisingly absent was his usual cocky grin; instead, he fumbled over words. "So, you know, V-Day's coming up, and uh, thought maybe we could, like, grab some grub or whatever." 

Y/N, amused by the unexpected vulnerability, smirked, "Grub, huh? Sure, why the hell not? Just don't make it fancy, Cameron." 

And just like that, in the mess of Rafe's less-than-smooth words and Y/N's easygoing response, a date was set in motion. In the days leading up to their not-so-typical valentine’s day date, Rafe found himself navigating unfamiliar waters. Gone were the days of carefree recklessness instead he was entangled in a web of genuine emotions. Y/N, with her easygoing nature had become the unexpected muse for this transformation. 

Their interactions, once centered around banter and playful teasing, now bore the weight of unspoken words. Rafe who was usually the master of evasion, felt an unexplainable pull toward Y/N that left him grappling with this new and uncomfortable vulnerability. Y/N, perceptive and patient, seemed to understand what he was going through. She didn’t push or prod but instead, she let him unravel at his own pace. Late-night talks on the beach and shared glances during the chaos of the islands’ parties became the canvas upon which their connection painted itself. 

Whilst Rafe stumbled through the intricacies of emotions, Y/N provided an anchor in the storm. Her laughter would echo through his mind like a calming melody, a stark contrast to the chaos that usually defined his world. In those moments, the layers of bravado peeled away, revealing a side of Rafe that even he hadn’t fully explored. This uncharted territory would become a shared exploration, and Rafe for the first time, found himself wanting to willingly navigate the emotional depths of those waters of vulnerability with her. 

Valentine’s Day dawned with an air of anticipation and curiosity as Rafe prepared for their unconventional date. The chosen venue wasn’t a high-end restaurant or a lavish setting but it was a local diner that had witnessed the ebb and flow of countless stories in the heart of the island. As Rafe and Y/N entered inside, the atmosphere was a blend of classic rock tunes and the clinking of cutlery. Booths with worn-out cushions and flickering neon signs set the stage for a date that defied expectations. The not-so-fancy date was a testament to the authenticity of their blooming relationship. 

Rafe smirked as his eyes drank in Y/N’s attire and her figure. “Well, you clean up nice.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, “Takes one to know one, Cameron. I see you put in some effort tonight.”

“Only for special occasions, and you're looking at one right now.”

“Oh, am I?” She asked playfully. “What exactly makes tonight so special?”

With a smug grin, he replied. “Because I'm here…” Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes but he continued, “...with the most beautiful person in the room.”

“Nice save, Cameron. But I'll take the compliment.” 

Rafe led Y/N to their table, holding her chair out with a confident yet playful demeanor. As they settled in, the banter continued. He leaned back in his seat as he looked across at her in the booth. “So, what do you think of this place? Impressed?”

A waiter quickly placed complementary glasses of water on their table, dropping the menus off and scampered off elsewhere. Y/N took a long drawn out sip then smirked, “It's alright. I've seen better.”

Rafe feigned his offense. “Ouch. Tough crowd. I thought you'd appreciate my refined taste.” 

She giggled and placed her glass back on the worn out mahogany table. “Don't worry, Rafe. I'm sure it'll be unforgettable.” 

As the night progressed, the flirtatious banter continued, each comment escalating the playful tension between them. The older Cameron leaned in closer to Y/N, elbows perched on the table as he held her gaze. “You know, after dinner, I was thinking we could take a stroll on the beach. I hear the stars are out tonight.” 

“A beach date, Cameron? Trying to impress me with clichés?” She teased, a small smile playing on her lips. 

He admired that beautiful look on her face and released a chuckle he wasn’t aware he held, “Just setting the mood, sweetheart. But if you're not into it, I'm sure I can come up with something more original.”

Y/N drummed her manicured nails on the four-legged furniture, her left hand resting on it whilst her chin was cradled in her palm. “Alright, Mr. Smooth Talker, beach it is.” 

“You know, I wasn't sure how you'd feel about going out with me. I've been wanting to ask you for a while.”

“What, the great Rafe Cameron nervous about asking someone out?” Y/N playfully teased him. 

Rafe scratched the back of his neck as he nervously glanced at her with his boyish smile. “Hey, it's different when it's someone you really like.” He was stunned at his own admission. He quickly tried to busy himself with the menu but after a moment, he peeked over it just to find her smirking at him. 

In that corner booth, amidst the diner’s timeless chaos, Rafe and Y/N engaged in a dance of laughter and shared stories. The menu, worn and stained, served as a backdrop to their unfiltered conversation. Rafe found comfort in the simplicity of the moment or perhaps it was her presence that brought out that peace within him. The food, far from gourmet, was a medley of local specialties; it wasn’t about the extravagance, it was about the shared experience. Y/N made him forget the weight of his usual reputation. 

The waiters and waitresses ran amok from one end of the tiny wooden restaurant to the other. Dishes and glasses and cutlery clattered as they crashed either on the tiled kitchen floors or the countertops. It was a bit chaotic but somehow still comforting. Amidst spilled drinks and mismatched silverware, Rafe’s nerves gave way to a surprising sense of ease. This date was not about impressing or performing; it was about two people, curious to explore their unexpected connection  in a place that made them feel seen and heard. Here in this diner, it was easy. It was simple. It was calm…with a bit of chaos. 

As they left the diner, the neon lights casting a warm glow on their silhouettes, Rafe and Y/N realized that sometimes, it’s the unconventional moments that leave the deepest impressions. The aftermath of their not-so-fancy Valentine’s Day date would usher in a new chapter for Rafe and Y/N. In the weeks that followed, they found themselves caught in a dance of shared glances and stolen moments. 

Rafe, the untamed Cameron, discovered solace in Y/N’s presence. She, with her serene nature, held him steady amid the storms of his own making. Late-night beach walks turned into shared confessions, and within the whispers of the ocean, they forged a bond that surpassed the superficial layers of their social existence. As the days rolled by, the tension between them slowly dissipated, leaving them standing on the precipice of something significant. Neither knew where this newfound friendship, each hopeful for a relationship, would lead them. He desperately needed calm in his otherwise turbulent life but she could do with some chaos to ruffle those feathers of hers but one date certainly wasn’t going to fix that.

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @catmikaelson20 @elijahmikaelsontrash @hopes-wife @klaustopia @klausysworld @loverswillowed @moremaybank @miasmultifandomdump @mrs-maximoff-kenner @multiversediaries @mxacegrey @original-siphon @onlyfreds @panic-at-the-fiction @ranising @slinthoex @spike-and-angels-gf @spnandtvdudeservedbetter @thatfanficstuff @thatfictionalwh0re @wholoveseggs @drewstarkeyslut @drudyslut @jjsbank444 @moremaybank @rafetopia @sweetestdesire @tinyluvs {lmk if you’d like to be added to the taglist!}

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[varijeri]

so i was watching Fit's stream and he was cleaning up a Federation outpost.... what's up with the outpost names huh? long post warning TL;DR at bottom.

Sector A's outpost names are derived from Slavic mythology; specifically special places from the myths. after searching these names online i found this website: https://meettheslavs.com/slavic-mythological-places/ taking from the website; 1. there's a "mystical mountain of Vitor" that's "built in heaven" and "hard to find because it changes its location as soon as the wind blows in a different direction". it's also said to have dragons living on it (this is the one Fit was sent to for repairs, and it also had weird blue draconic-looking creatures around it. it was also an icy mountain...) 2. there's a "Buyan/Bujan Island", described to "appear and disappear with the tides" and be the "dwelling place of three brothers, the Northern, Western and Eastern winds". 3. there's a "Kingdom of Opona", an "imaginary place [that] existed at the edge of the Earth which [ancient Russians] imagined as a flat plane." it was believed "free and happy [peasants]" lived in this country under a "true and just" ruler. 4. there's a "Vyraj/Viraj", a "resting place for the souls and spirits" AKA the equivalent of Heaven in Slavic mythology. it's "a place where birds find their retreat in the winter". (notably this outpost is inactive) 5. lastly there's a "Nav/Nawia", a "mysterious place for the souls of the dead", and "often interpreted as another version of the imaginary place Vyraj", so AKA Hell or the Underworld. (the Hell outpost is active but not the Heaven outpost???) If Outpost Vitor sort of matches the description from the myth, maybe the other outposts do too? so like Bujan is on an island in the sea, Opona is super far out in a village maybe, Viraj and Nawia i have no clue... Sector B's outpost names are derived from Norse mythology; specifically Norse gods. being a nerd i noticed this instantly which was what tipped me off to search up Sector A's names. taking from various sources, but mostly from their Wikipedia articles: 1. "Tyr" is an one-armed god representing justice and fair treaties despite being a god of war, who lost his arm in the process of binding Fenrir the wolf. he dies in Ragnarök. 2. "Odin/Woden/Wodan" is the ruler of Asgard, the All-Father, and the one-eyed god of wisdom war, and death. he presided over Valhalla, a sacred hall that housed dead warriors in preparation for Ragnarok. he dies in Ragnarök. 3. "Thor/Donar" is probably the most popular Norse god, the god of thunder. the embodiment of strength, he is the protector of the Æsir and the humans. he dies in Ragnarök. 4. "Máni" is the god of the Moon and brother of Sol, the goddess of the Sun. they is eternally chased by Skoll and Hati, two wolves who seek to plunge the world into chaos by eating the Sun and Moon. he dies in Ragnarök. 5. Outpost Frïja I believe is "Frigg", the Queen of Asgard and the goddess of marriage, family and motherhood. she lives in Ragnarök. notably, all five gods (and goddess) lend their names to days of the week (Máni -> Monday, Tyr -> Tuesday, Woden -> Wednesday, Thor -> Thursday, and Frigg -> Friday). none of these outposts are active, they are all inactive or under maintenance, so i'm inclined to believe these aren't as important right now as compared to Sector A... still, these outposts are named after Slavic and Norse myths for a reason possibly so these might be significant. Nothing particularly comes to mind but if anyone has any idea feel free to add on... TL;DR: Federation Outpost names from Fit's stream have Slavic/Norse mythology inspired names, possible significance?

[chbnews]

I havent been on camp or on the blog for two months(maybe more, idk, i found an uninhabited island that on a sign shower that its called ogygia, if anyone knows what that is and apparently time goes different there, there were a lot of servant wind spirits tho), can anyone notify me on what's happened

-an anon son of Dionysus

Welcome back! And basically In shorter terms (not in order btw)

Cecil and Mark were shipped together

Clovis and Piper battle over who was the best matchmaker

Camp prom

Blackjack (the horse) escaped like 20 times

A bunch of cabins exploded

Clovis got sent on a quest

Percy disappeared for like 17 hours

Banning of glitter

Prank war between CHB and CJ, (reason why glitter is banned)

People kept stealing doors

And windows

And many many other things

Someone died and came back within like 2 days

Apollo got mad at Hephaestus so now all the cabin 9 kids get sun burns if they go outside for more than 10 minutes

General camp Halfblood chaos

Chiron gets his own section cause he’s awesome

Chiron is slay but Mr D is not

Chiron has rizz and Mr D does not

Chiron got his hooves painted by cabin 10 and 13 on separate occasions

Chiron helped paint cabin 10 after it was rebuilt

So in conclusion. A lot. - Annabeth Chase 🦉

[wordsbymae]

The Fisherman Pt. 1

Continues from the prologue that you can find on my masterlist. I actually really struggled with this one, I have so many ideas of where to take it, that I couldn't really choose one consistent way of bridging it to where I want it.

The fog curled around the bay, seeping into the cracks and crevices of the island. You imagined the fog being devoured by the land itself, nourishing the barren, desolate rock you were forced to call home. The sky was near black, the sun suffocated by dark clouds. Rain pelted down, leaving harsh lines along the window you looked out from. You shivered in slight fear as the small house shook from a powerful burst of wind. The storm was frightening in its power, the lighthouse overlooking the bay failing to make a difference.

You felt nothing but disappointment.

Disappointed the fisherman was not amongst the waves. You had hoped his boat would have been dashed across the jagged rocks lining the cliffs. Instead, he made his presence known by the sound of his heavy footfalls up the old wooden stairs. He pauses for a brief moment at the last step, his weight shifting slightly. An audible creak lifting into the air. Your eyes were still trained solely on the waves crashing against the rocks. Even above the rain and wind, you could still hear the constant sound of the bay in all its chaos. You shifted your gaze from the bay to the fisherman's reflection. His sad, lonely eyes staring back at you. Almost as if he was willing you to turn around.

His mouth opens.

Then shuts.

He looks down back the stairs, weighing his options. He shifts his weight onto his back foot, the decision of leaving you alone silently on his mind.

You begin to left out a breath you'd been holding.

His weight shifts again, the creaking of the wood signalling your fate.

He begins to walk to you. You suck back in a breath, straighten your back and close your eyes.

He stops mere inches away from you. You can smell the salt on his skin and feel the heat he provides. In this cold, decaying house he felt like hell fire.

Your eyes remained shut, your ears listening to his shallow, frantic breaths, almost in time with the waves breaking on the rocks.

You open your eyes slowly, willing him to be gone. He stood silently behind you, eyes fixated on yours in the reflection.

"Will you come for supper?" he croaks, struggling to articulate each word. You struggle to remember a time you've heard his voice. Even before he took you kicking and screaming from your small village by the sea, you could hardly say you've ever heard anything from his mouth. Not even a whisper.

You turn to face him, eyes dull and lifeless. You could feel a dull ache in your belly, you imagined it was hunger. Though in the week you have been trapped within these walls, you failed to feel anything but despair. Not even the pains of hunger or the dryness of your throat for the want of water could compare to the growing emptiness within you.

You stare into his eyes. They unnerve you. So bright and cold. You remarked to yourself that they seem to be mimicking humanity rather than being of it. Looking into his eyes filled you with dread. You turned your attention back to the window, away from his soulless eyes.

"No thank you" you answer, keeping your voice level. His shoulders sag at the reply, you had been sitting at this window in the attic for hours now. Before that, the window in the kitchen. Before that, your eyes were focused on the ceilings rafters in your bedroom, counting each strand of the spiders webs swaying like flags in the breeze that floated into the house.

He sighs, disappointment flows across his face, before a dull spark of emotion makes its home on his face. You think for a second it is guilt or maybe just the way the rain on the window muddles his reflection.

You watch as his hand ruffles into his pocket, the same time another gust of wind pushes against the house. You don't fear it this time round.

His hand removes itself from the abyss it found itself in. You can't see what is inside his hand, only catching a bright glimmer of gold. It blinds you for a moment, until you blink, and the glimmer turns to nothing. He ponders for a moment, a finger plays around the edges of the small object in your hand.

"I have this for you" his voice is smoother this time, still harsh, but mellowed in its little usage. His face still looking upon the object. Eyes becoming focused purely on the motions he conducts with his finger.

He blinks slowly and lifts his gaze towards you.

You turn to face him, eyes slowly falling upon his open palm. He reaches it towards you in a silent offering. He needs not to say a word, the action screams loudly at you instead.

'Please, Please, Please, Please, Please'

Asking for what you don't know. You've tried to ponder his motives, his desires, but he never made them known.

A small golden ring laid upon his palm, a dark lilac gem sat amongst vines of gold, the gem catches the light with ease, another bright glimmer catches your gaze.

There is something about it, the craftmanship, the way light seemed to bend itself away from it, the cold that radiated from it. Without thought your hand inches towards it, hesitating just as you begin to grasp the metal.

You doubt his intentions, his motive behind gifting you this strange yet beautiful artifact. He stole you from your home, ripped you from your family, marooned you amongst a decaying house upon a desolate island. But as you gazed into the gem, the specks of gold, silver and lilac dancing in the light, the worries amongst your mind floated away, devoured like fog into the cracks of the island.

Before you truly comprehended what was occurring, the ring was slipped onto your left ring finger. You weren't even sure if it was you who did it.

Now nestled on your hand, it was warm, it felt like it had been there for years. But of course it does, because it had been there for years. Hadden it? The feeling of emptiness and despair lifted from you in a second, collected with your worries and floated away to be consumed. In fact, what exactly were you upset about? You know you had felt something, or maybe the absence of something. But it was gone, as if you were waking from a strange and unsettling dream. You admired the ring upon your finger, just as you lifted your gaze to admire your husband. He was so good to you, providing for you, protecting you. Because that is what husbands do, right?

The rain continued, even falling harder, the clouds finally succeeded in diminishing the last of the suns light, and darkness descended upon the bay. Yet, it was all perfect. The chaos and the violence of nature was so so so perfect. Everything was. Because of cause it was. You had your husband, your love, right in front of you. Everything would forever be perfect with him.

A bright smile broke across your face. You wondered for a brief second why it felt so unnatural. Oh well, these feelings come and go.

Your husband's face shone with delight at your display of emotion. A dry, flustered laugh began to emerge from his mouth.

"Do you love me?" he urged, hands rough from work gripping onto yours, thumb playing with your wedding band.

"Of course I do...um...husband!" you giggled back, stopping only to realise you have forgotten his name. How could you forget your husband's name? How embarrassing! Oh well, these things happen.

He allowed himself to finally laugh, a desperate, ugly display of pure joy. You laughed along side him, not understanding why he felt the need to display such a sight.

A feeling began creeping over you as he continued, you couldn't quite place it. It wasn't very nice though, it was harsh and almost wet in feeling, like your heart was being drowned under a roaring current. Your laughs began to mutate, from those of joy to laughs of fear, what was this growing inside you? It felt slimy and ugly, pushing out from within, like a creature desperate to be released. Tears began to flood your eyes. The pain of this feeling encompassed your body. Your husband still laughed, why couldn't he see your tears? Why didn't he feel this grip of dread that overwhelmed you?

Sobs began to rack your frame, breaths came out if huffs and gasps for breath, you didn't understand anything. Who was this man? Surely if you were married you would know him by name? Surely you would feel safe with him, but instead fear and sorrow encompassed the air you shared between you.

You looked down to your joined hands and a gleam of purple stopped your questions. The gleam grows, pulsating in beat with your heart, your cries softened, the feeling of dread and fear slowly slithered away, back down deep deep deep deep inside you.

You looked up. Oh! Your husband was looking at you, with...fear?

"Is everything okay husband?" you ask. Head tilting, tears drying upon your face. Had you been crying? Surely not.

"Yes, yes of course my love. Everything is absolutely perfect” he rushes, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

You smile back.

Everything is perfect.

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 35

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: violence

Origins

Killer was right about a fuck coma. You slept for the entire rest of the day, until the next morning. Killer had helped you take a bath, getting in himself, though quickly regretting it when he kept having to hold your wrists. He gave you an inch, several actually, and you wanted a mile. He insisted you couldn't take any more after that afternoon, to which you replied by healing yourself completely. He muttered something about being just like Kid and finally convinced you that you needed to take a nap. 

The light coming in through the window made you squint. How long did I sleep? You stretched and groaned. At the foot of Killer's bed, Minerva made a short squeal in greeting. Killer let her sleep here? Your heart squeezed. Pushing yourself up, you noticed that he had also gotten clothes for you, which were neatly folded on the bed. This was so strange. You were unaccustomed to people doing nice things for you of their own will. When you were a captain, you could just tell them to do something for you. 

You came out on deck with your signature coat, having appropriately mended and cleaned it. The sun on your face tickled your cheeks and the wind tugged gently at free strands of hair. You took a moment to enjoy the view, the flat blue horizon, scratching Mini's ear as you did so. You used to have a tri-cornered hat with a feather in it that made you look quite distinguished. It would be perfect to put on now if you still had it. The time between when you left the marines and when you were caught by them were your freest, doing whatever you wanted. It was chaotic, the exact thing you had left your home island for, but perhaps that made you feel some connection to your old home. Maybe you missed the chaos. 

You leaned on the banister, looking down at the water. The waves broke up your reflection as the vessel cut through the water. From this view, you could pretend you were still on Fate's Wraith. It's not like you didn't like it here, it was different though. You weren't the captain here. In some respects it was nice, no responsibilities. On the other hand, you couldn't act as you wanted. You still kind of did, but It helped that the captain's dick had a soft spot for you...hard spot? 

Sighing, you thought about what might have been if nothing had happened to you. Would you have run into the Kid Pirates? What would have happened then? Would you still be hunting marines? Would you have killed Van Kossa and Warthin by now? Would you even still be alive? Maybe your crew would have betrayed you for the highest price no matter who it would have been. If the Kid Pirates fully assimilated you into their crew, would you still dwell on the past? Could you ever let it go? Not until those bastards are dead. 

You woke up in a good mood, a great mood even. Why were you being so nostalgic? It was self-sabotage to make yourself upset with old memories. As a kid, you ran the streets under the guise of being a boy, it was safer that way, begging at first, stealing later. In your teen years, you hung around a rough crowd of girls, unable to hide behind short hair anymore. You protected each other from being sold to slavers and fleshtraders, not always successfully. Soon you were the last one left. The others had either left or were killed. You thought about staying, joining another of the gangs that ran the streets. In the end, you watched a girl a bit younger than you be slaughtered by the gang with the most power at the time. That's when you made your decision to get as far away from there as possible, joining the marines, the opposite of that chaos, the good guys. So much for that. 

Thinking of your younger years and your home island conjured up the words to an old song. The world knew it, although every island had its own variations of the verses. The one on your island was fitting for an island dedicated to crime. You hummed the tune as you stared down into the sea, switching to softly singing the words to yourself when it was time for the verse:

Gather up all of the crew, it's time to steal all Binks' brew. We will go, to where, who knows? The loot will be our guide. Robbed behind the tavern's side. Thieves and bandits far and wide. Whores they sing, of lustful things to pirates passing by.

"Where'd ya learn that?" Something about it itched Kid's mind. 

You jumped, not noticing before that Kid had come up beside you. "Sorry. M'not a good singer." 

"Aye. Stick to yer day job."

The man was honest, no doubt about that. "And what is my day job?" You continued staring forward, fixated on the ocean.

Kid looked at you from the corner of his eye. You were looking at the sea with such a mournful gaze. The softness of your features in the mid-morning sun was new to him. Maybe you knew it, or maybe you didn't, you were always guarded. In truth, in your most vulnerable states, Kid still had trouble completely reading you. He could see you with clarity in this moment, a creature of pure melancholy. There was a part of him that wanted to grab the back of your shirt, considering your demeanor was that of someone who wanted to disappear into the waves. You were so lost.

Kid had been drawn to stand next to you in the first place because he saw you watching the ocean, hair reflecting the sun, coat billowing out behind you, and thought that must be how you looked on your own ship some time ago. He thought you would have the fiery gaze he was accustomed to seeing and was taken aback when your face showed the opposite. He would have retreated, except he was pinned in place when he heard the words that you sang to yourself. 

"Yer the doctor of the Kid Pirates." Kid's hand wavered over your shoulder, before lightly cuffing the back of your head. "Don't be stupid." Kid wasn't good at this kind of thing. He wanted to put a hand on your shoulder as a measure of comfort. Thinking it would be odd coming from him, he changed his mind. What he really wanted to do was pull you into his chest and make you forget about the past.

The two of you stayed there for a minute or two in silence. Kid thought he could see the ghost of a smile on your face, a little less lost.

You turned away from him. "I'll be in the crow's nest." 

So soft he could barely hear it, a "Thanks, Kid" came from your direction as you walked away. It may have been the wind, which seemed like it was picking up.

About an hour or two into your watch, it started pouring rain. Not the best of times to volunteer for this job, though you needed time to yourself. The strong wind had it pelting you, so not only was it cold, it sort of hurt, too, like a hundred little projectiles. Kid knew what he was saying, you don't know if he appropriately thought it through or discussed it with anyone else, but he meant it. You could tell because he immediately followed it with something rude, to balance it out. While the rain hid the fact your cheeks had been streaked with tears, it couldn't hide the red stain around the rim of your eyes. You weren't even entirely sure why you were crying. Probably many reasons, all coming out at once. You had felt better afterward. The emotions had been pent up for some time, it seemed. The harsh rain drops and tumultuous sea mirrored you in a way. 

The fabric of your clothes clung to you, cold and wet. Your hair, though weighed down with water, kept whipping you about the face in the strong wind. The boat's rocking was accentuated by the fact you were farther from the center of rotation up in the air. You kept your station, eyes fixated on the horizon on all sides. There were rocky outcroppings ahead, with enough space for a ship to pass through. It didn't sit right with you. You knew that there would be something waiting in the middle. It was only a hunch, no observation haki to back it up. Call it experience. It appeared that you intended to sail right through it if you didn't say something. 

You climbed about halfway down the mast and jumped the rest of the way to the deck. Yelling from the nest would do no good with the wind howling as it was. The sails had been drawn up, so the wind didn't rip them, or worse, bring the mast down. The waves pushed the ship forward even without the sails. You found Wire at the helm with Killer beside him. 

"Hi, Y/N. Why aren't you at your post?" Killer noticed the redness to your eyes. Now wasn't the time to comment on it.

"I don't think we should continue on this course."

Wire acknowledged you with a nod. "Why not?"

"I can't say for sure. Something isn't right."

"We can take shelter from the wind behind the rocks." 

You shook your head. "This stretch is known for bad weather, but it's short. We can sail right through it in another hour." Your eyebrows knit together. "I think they want us to shelter there." You looked at Killer, trying to convince him. 

"We'll only stop until the wind lets up." Killer looked at Wire. "Storms like this don't last long. I can't sense anything ahead that's suspicious."

You looked at Killer, disappointed that they trusted you enough to follow the map you drew, but not enough to take this advice. Maybe you were overreacting and it was nothing. The feeling in your gut told you otherwise. You couldn't argue more without a solid reason. You were doing your best to fall in line, especially with the olive branch Kid extended to you earlier. You gave him a short nod of understanding, though repeating, "I really have a bad feeling." Sometimes trusting your gut trumped observation haki, but you did trust Killer. 

You returned to your spot in the crow's nest, not before grabbing a rifle and a few explosives. If things turned sour, you wanted to be prepared. Using your power, you merged the rifle's bullets with the explosives. It would either blow up in your face or work as intended, exploding bullets. Your gunblade wasn't as good with long range shots, and neither were you. Actually, they probably shouldn't have let your visually impaired ass in the crow's nest to begin with. Minerva stood vigilantly at the base of the mast, as you asked her to. 

In a shorter amount of time than you would have liked, the ship approached the gap in the outcroppings. The water between them was calm, as Wire expected. There weren't any ships there that you could see. You learned a while back that there were a series of metal rudders that Kid could control to stabilize or guide the ship through rough water. It couldn't propel them forward, yet; he was working on that. He must have been using these somewhere to make sure they didn't get smashed into the rocks. 

There were no sounds, save for the echoing of rainwater dripping through cracks in the stone and the roaring waves. There was something else, quieter. Chains? The roar made it hard to hear anything at all. All at once, harpoons were fired from the rock walls, from inside the rock walls. That's why you couldn't see anything. They were huge, made to keep ships trapped in place or be torn apart trying to flee. It happened too quickly for Kid to manipulate them with his fruit, though shortly after, you could see the crackling purple energy that belonged to him try to pull the hooks out without causing too much damage. It was not a fast process. If he pulled them out too roughly, there would be huge holes in the hull. 

Ropes fell from openings too, pirates sliding down and landing on deck. You could see Heat burning through them if he was in range, causing the pirates to either fall into the sea or hastily retreat back into the rock. The canons barely made a dent in the walls. The harpoon guns were anchored to the rocks on the inside. When Kid pulled one out, another was quickly in its place. The next one he pulled, you took aim at the harpoon gun that corresponded to it, praying you wouldn't explode. What a time to test a stupid idea. You pulled the trigger. You didn't explode, but you missed. There was a small explosion in the rock next to the harpoon, which startled the person manning it enough that they didn't reload. That gave you time to shoot again, this time hitting the base of the harpoon gun. The resulting explosion loosened the rock beneath it, and the gun fell into the water. No damage was done to the ship since the harpoon connected to it had already been removed by Kid. 

There were three on each side. One was taken out. Five were left. You only had 2 more explosive bullets. Kid looked up at you and pointed to the middle one on the same side. You gave him a thumbs up. Aiming carefully, you waited until Kid freed the hook and shot, repeating this process for the last harpoon on that side. One side of the ship was released, causing it to drift closer to the other side where it was still attached. Kid pointed to the next one, but looked away before waiting for your thumbs up. There was no way to let him know you didn't have any more special bullets. You could just shoot the operator, however another would take their place, and you didn't even have enough regular bullets for everyone. 

Without Kid focusing on the metal rudders and the loss of the chains on the one side, the ship was rocking more freely. It was hard to see, but the rock face had a narrow path carved into it so people could walk back and forth between stations. You were a bit higher than the shelf. The ship's rocking brought the crow's nest close enough that you could make the jump. There wasn't time to decide if that would be wise, Kid was already working the harpoon out and expecting you to take care of it. If Kid didn't get his full attention back to the rudders, they were going to be smashed against the rock when they tried to get out of there.

You waited until the mast rocked toward the rock face, at the last second using the momentum to make the leap. The rocks were much more slippery than you anticipated and you landed hard into the stone. But you landed. The enemy stared at you open-mouthed, very obviously not expecting anyone to try something like that. Using their stupor, you rushed them and shoved them over the edge. Then you were about to use your power to dislodge the harpoon, when you had a better idea. Quickly, before anyone could get to you, you reloaded the harpoon and aimed it at the next one. The resulting shot caused the ground underneath the middle harpoon to crumble. That's when you realized mistake number one: now you would have to jump across to the next portion. Almost immediately after that, you realized mistake number two: since the harpoon was connected to the one that fell, it was suddenly jerked into the water also, and you felt the ground start to give under your feet. 

Kid looked at the crow's nest to signal you and you weren't there. He looked on deck, thinking you had fallen or jumped. His eyes darted around to find you. Then, the loud rumble of falling rock caused him to look up, and watch you realize your fuck up in real time.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE THINKING?!"

Killer, who had been covering Kid, looked where his captain was looking. "What the fuck?!"

You hauled ass to get to the other side of the gap, jumping at nearly the last second. Drawing your weapon, you jammed the blade into the rock, knowing you didn't jump quite far enough to make it. You clung to the edge and made an attempt to pull yourself up. One of Big Mom's pirates saw you, walking towards you with bad intentions. You should have been scared or anxious or any number of other feelings. In spite of that, you were having fun. A lot of fun really. 

"Watch out!" You warned.

The pirate paused. "For what?" 

"There's a big spike right below you."

He looked down, the flat rock below him. "Nice try." It was glowing strangely. "Wha-?" A spike of rock shot up, impaling him. 

"Told ya." You pulled yourself up the rest of the way and skirted around the dead man.

There was one more harpoon. The Victoria Punk strained against the last hook and Kid was already working to free it. As soon as it was released, the ship surged forward. There was no reason to get rid of the last gun. Though now you were realizing you had no plan to get back on the ship, and it was moving away. It was within jumping distance. Landing distance was a different story. You supposed you could fix your shattered ankles. You saw the chain to the harpoon and used your power to turn sever and shrink the links. If you had more time, you could have formed a better plan, but for now you wrapped the chain around your torso. You stood at the edge of the rock. Finding Kid's face, you pointed to a place in the air. It took him a second to understand, but you saw him give you a thumbs up. This was probably gonna hurt, maybe less than shattered ankles though. You backed up to give yourself a running start, aiming yourself for the spot you pointed to. The metal was heavy as you leapt toward the ship and you fell fast. You didn't care that it was reckless. The wind against you made you wonder if that's what it was like to fly. And the pouring rain made it nearly seem like you were swimming, something you had forgotten how it felt. It was...freeing.

There was a harsh tug, your vision filled with violet, but it didn't hurt nearly as bad as you thought it would as Kid caught you with his devil fruit. You thought the chains would dig into you. Kid had enough finesse and practice to make it smoother you figured. Even better. Your plan was excellent, if only in hindsight. You didn't register you were laughing, flat on your back on the deck. It took a second to reorient yourself, a bit dizzy from jumping, though it was more like free falling. There were several faces above you, one of them very red and very loud. Oh I'm being yelled at.

Crack! The sound of splintering wood acutely grounded you, as the mast leaned toward the deck, specifically toward where you lay. 

Next Chapter

[threepandas]

Sun Burnt: Part 2

Sixteen grand, only half my go bags, and about three blocks of Mafia Land on fire.

That was my fucking legacy now. I was the crazy fuck that DICK PUNCHED the Dread God of hitmen everywhere. The nightmare that lesser men fear. The blood soaked luxury few can afford! Oh god. I just punch the greatest hitman on THE PLANET in the DICK.

IN PUBLIC.

CURSE YOU LIGHTNING BRAIN!

I can't believe I fucking FORGOT that panic and impossibly fast reaction times were a BAD IDEA. God DAMN it! No wonder everyone thinks Lightnings are morons! That was the DUMBEST SHIT I'VE EVER DONE IN MY LIFE! Oh god. Oh god! I'm gonna die so slow. He's gonna drag it out! What do I DO!?

He didn't even collapse! Just hissed in through his teeth and TANKED it!

Thank god for Tazer training.

But also like!? Ha ha!!! OH GOD IM SO DEAD. I just pissed off EVERYBODY, didn't I? I can never come back! I had to have hit like... fifteen DIFFERENT SETS back there! And Colonello will be out for my BLOOD. Fuck, I wanna LIVE!

Boats. I gotta steal one of the boats!

And thank god? I DO. The island is in chaos, thanks to the fires. I dump the boats number of trackers overboard. Sure, I have to take a knife to a few fancy ass walls. But it's WORTH it.

I got a fancy ass little yacht! Perfect. It's fast, it's liveable, I can DISAPPEAR out to sea. He'll NEVER fi-!

Click.

Cool metal smoothly, cruely, presses againt the back of my head to crush my hope, just as it begins to form. The cologne is unmistakable. I can not tell you, how in God's name I missed it. The barrel of a gun pressed close, like a lover's hand, in unspoken threat.

"Bella~" purrs an amused voice from behind me. It sound like a threat. "Quite the trouble maker, aren't you? Such... CHAOS~♡ But, really? Did you HONESTLY think you could run? We're not done yet."

.....m...maybe I could swim.

I break out into a cold sweat, too aware yet completely frozen. The stairs to the deck are too far away. Fuck. I... I could MAYBE make it? Or.. or punch out a wall? Right into the water? I try to keep my breathing even. It doesn't work. I know, because Death made a man? Who stands behind me? Hums in amusement. His gun pressing tighter against my skin.

"I wouldn't, bella fulminea. I am nothing if not a gentleman, but if you keep fighting me? Well... it is a long boat ride. I'll have to find SOME way to immobilize you long enough for us to have a little chat. And an excuse to have my Flames inside you? You'd be surprised the damage one can do without lasting effects, when they know HOW too."

"And make no mistake. I DO know how to hurt you."

"So let's behave ourselves, hmm? Have a seat."

I... I had a seat. Very comfy. Didn't feel like crying in the SLIGHTEST ha ha, WHAAAT? Don't be silly! This is FINE! We're all friends here! R..Right?

The slow grin I got was NOT reassuring.

He stood there, above me, gun casually pointed at my head, as he examined me. Taking his time. As though decadently savoring the moment. Enjoying my tensed muscles. The way my Flames crackled and arced across my skin. My eyes dilated in fear. The resonance that filled the cabin.

His eyes weren't dark anymore. And that... God, that was the worst part. They had lit up. I'd HEARD about the phenomenon, but never thought I ever actually SEE it. 'Cause who could actually be that batshit powerful? What realistic person would ever be so fucking STRONG?

It was like looking into molten gold. Liquid Sun Flames. I could almost SEE the flicker and burn. I could DEFINITELY feel the Flames filling the room. It was like being crammed in a box with a tiger that barely fit to begin with. Shoved RIGHT up against its face. All I could do was hope it was friendly. Preferably ignored me.

But he wasn't.

No, he wanted to TALK.

Had finally, thankfully, put the gun away. Stepped closer to grab my face and tilt it up. Angle it this way and that. Memorizing my features. Shit. My thoughts must have been obvious on my face, because his smirk widened. His grip got tighter.

"Do you know, little lightning, how long I've waited? How many DECADES I've made do? I don't care if you're not a Sky. You could be another sun as far as I'm concerned. It is the fact that your Flames SING to mine. Crave a place with mine. THAT is why you will never escape me."

I didn't even know if I WANTED a Set. Yeah, it sounded cool. The companionship, the understanding and stuff. Like... like soulmates. Literal platonic but could be not if you wanted Soulmates. Yours forever. Best friends and balm to all wounds. But? But! If THIS was what was in store for me?!

Ha ha, NOPE!

I may not have be interested in being some meat shield for some entitled, cloying, grabby-flamed Sky BRAT, but that didn't mean I wanted a living DREAD GOD! R... RIGHT?! I just wanted, you know, substance! Mutual understanding and a mature outlook on life. Competence. Maybe some one... who thinks... I'm...funny...

Ooooooh no.

Oh no no NO!

"REBORN! Did you KIDNAP a random thief?!"

Thuds up on the deck. A roaring voice sounding vaguely hysterical. A god like Cloud kicking the door to the lower levels clear off it's hinges. Vongola. Oh thank MERCIFUL FUCK. I risk a glance across the table. His face has frozen in it's pleasantly smiling mask. Pissed at being interrupted. Again.

His eyes say "don't you do it. Don't even DARE.

My eyes shoot from him to the Cloud slowly walking down the steps. Followed by the rest of the Tenth generation of the Vongola Familgia. The clear exit they've left open behind them. Back to him. His gaze now promising to break both my legs.

.....he'll have to fucking catch me first.

I BOLT.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

☠️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Thirty-Two

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: None.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~2.9k

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One Month Since Kidnapping

The gentle sway of the Red Force soothes your frayed nerves as you sit on the deck, knife in hand. Ongaku Island appears on the horizon, a speck of green and gold against the endless blue. The crew bustles around you, but you hardly notice their activity. Your focus is on the knife tricks Gab has taught you—flipping it, twirling it, letting it dance between your fingers. The blade gleams under the sun, a sharp reminder of how life can cut deep.

Gab’s voice breaks through your thoughts. "Aria, careful with that. You don't want to lose a finger."

You glance up at him, offering a faint smile. “I think I’ve got it under control.”

He leans against the railing, watching you with concern etched into his rugged features. "How’re you holding up?"

You shrug, eyes returning to the knife. “I’m managing.”

Gab doesn’t press further, knowing better than to push. Instead, he nods and walks off to join the others. You return your attention to the horizon and resume twirling the knife in your hand. You've long since left physical pain behind, but what consumes you now is bitter anger you are fighting to dispel. Not even Shanks embrace and the crew's words of encouragement lesson the taste.

You hear the familiar sound of Shanks' footsteps approaching, a steady rhythm that both comforts and unsettles you. He stops beside you, casting a long shadow over your seated form. You don't look up; instead, you continue to fiddle with the knife, letting its cool metal distract you from the tumultuous thoughts swirling in your mind.

"Treasure," Shanks begins, his voice soft but firm. "We need to talk."

You glance up, meeting his concerned eyes. "About what?"

He takes a seat next to you, his pleading gaze never wavering. "You've been distant. Ever since we got you back, you're here but not with me."

Your fingers tighten around the knife handle. "I'm fine, Shanks."

He reaches out, gently taking the knife from your hand and setting it aside. His touch is warm, a stark contrast to the cold steel. "No, you're not. And it's okay to not be fine."

You swallow hard, looking away from him and out toward Ongaku Island. The island's beauty feels almost mocking against your internal chaos.

"Listen," Shanks continues, his tone lighter now as he tries to draw you back in. "I was thinking... how about we spend a day in town? Just you and me."

You furrow your brow, puzzled. "In town?"

"Yeah," he says with a small smile. "Do some shopping, maybe get you a new dress or two," you can see the sparkle in his eyes, the slight undertone of playfulness he is trying to express. "Just spend some quality time together. I think you need it."

You sigh deeply, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “I don’t know if that’ll help.”

“Maybe not,” he admits, his hand lifting so he can brush his fingers beneath your chin, “but I would like to spend some time with you, treasure. Just with you.” He tilts his head slightly, studying your face as if searching for a flicker of agreement.

You finally meet his gaze again and find sincerity there—a genuine desire to see you happy, even if only for a moment.

"I don't suppose there is a taiyaki stand on the island?" You softly probe, a glimmer of life behind your dulled eyes. Shanks chuckles as his lips curve into a grin and he cups the side of your face, pulling you close to kiss your temple.

"You can have all the taiyaki you want, treasure," He murmurs against your skin, burying his face into your hair. "Promise."

Shanks' hand wraps firmly around yours, guiding you through the bustling market of Ongaku Island. The air is filled with the harmonious hum of merchants and shoppers, each stall bursting with vibrant colors and tantalizing scents. Yet, you feel detached, as though you're watching the scene unfold from a distance.

Shanks chatters on about various items—beautifully crafted instruments, intricate jewelry—but his words barely register. You nod and smile when appropriate, trying to match his enthusiasm, but it’s a hollow effort. Your mind drifts to darker places, memories you wish you could erase.

Then Shanks spots it—the taiyaki stand. His eyes light up, and he gently tugs your hand. "Come on, Treasure. Let’s get some taiyaki."

You follow him, allowing a small smile to tug at your lips for his sake. The vendor greets Shanks warmly, and they exchange a few words while he prepares the fish-shaped pastries. Shanks turns to you with that boyish grin that first drew you in.

The vendor works with precision, folding the batter into delicate fish shapes before filling them with sweet red bean paste. The aroma wafts through the air, a comforting blend of sugar and warmth. You watch the process intently, trying to focus on something simple and pleasant. Shanks stands beside you, his presence a steady anchor in the whirlwind of your thoughts.

When the vendor hands over the taiyaki, Shanks thanks him and passes one to you. You take it gingerly, bringing it to your lips and nibbling at the edge. The taste is as delightful as you remember, but you eat slowly, savoring each bite.

You notice Shanks watching you with a raised eyebrow. “What?” you ask, pausing mid-bite.

“Just surprised,” he replies, his tone teasing. “Last time we had taiyaki, you devoured yours in three bites.”

You glare at him playfully. “I have manners, you know.”

Shanks grins wider. “Sure, when it suits you.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Some of us like to enjoy our food.”

“Some of us,” he mimics, then laughs. His laughter is infectious, and despite yourself, you chuckle.

He finishes his taiyaki in two bites and brushes crumbs from his shirt. “Alright, Treasure,” he says, pointing towards a row of shops draped in colorful fabrics. “Time for some new clothes.”

You shake your head. “I don’t need any more clothes.”

He snorts, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “The dresses aren’t for you.”

That catches your attention. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Then who are they for?”

“For my enjoyment,” he says with a wink.

You laugh outright this time. Your first laugh in over a month. “I didn’t know you were a cross-dresser.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “Not for me to wear. For me to view.” He emphasizes the word with a suggestive smirk.

Heat rises to your cheeks. You glance away but allow him to guide you towards the dress shops. The fabrics flutter in the breeze like colorful banners of a past life you're slowly letting go of.

As you enter one of the shops together, the soft rustle of fabric and warm ambiance envelops you both. Shanks’ hand remains on yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. For the first time in weeks, something within begins to unwind—a small thread loosening in the tightly bound knot of your heart.

"Let’s find something that makes you feel as stunning as you are," he murmurs close to your ear. "Because as much as I adore seeing you in your lavender dress, one of these days I fear I might end up ripping it from your body."

You glare at Shanks, eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. "I can't believe you'd even think of such a thing," you mutter, stepping further into the dress shop.

The interior of the shop is a sensory overload. Shelves and racks brim with vibrant silks, satins, and linens. Each fabric whispers promises of elegance and grace. The shopkeeper, a petite woman with graying hair pulled into a neat bun, greets you warmly.

"Welcome! How can I help you today?" she asks, her voice as soothing as the soft chime of bells hanging from the door.

Shanks' hand tightens around yours reassuringly. "We're looking for some dresses," he says, his gaze fixed on you with intense adoration.

The shopkeeper’s eyes twinkle with excitement as she claps her hands, calling for an assistant. A young woman with a shy smile appears from behind a curtain of rich velvet. "This way, miss," she says softly, guiding you toward the changing rooms.

You glance back at Shanks, his presence a comforting anchor in this sea of fabrics and colors. The shopkeeper turns to him, a knowing look in her eyes. "Will you be staying, sir?"

Shanks looks at you, his brow raised in question. Your aches from the unspoken communication between you. Come on, Aria, act happy for him. "Wouldn't it be nicer if you were surprised by the dresses?" you suggest, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

A twinkle ignites in Shanks' eyes, and he gives you that familiar curvy smile that always makes your knees weak. Even in this state. "Get several dresses then," he says with a wink, making the shopkeeper chuckle.

As you follow the assistant into the changing area, you feel a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety. The small room is lined with mirrors and draped with curtains in shades of deep burgundy. The assistant begins pulling dresses from racks, each more stunning than the last. And not at all ostentatious.

Moving to where you are directed, you stand in the small changing room, fingers tracing the delicate fabrics of the dresses hanging before you. Each one seems to whisper promises of a new beginning, a fresh start away from the nightmares of your past. The assistant hands you a dress of soft sea-green silk, its simplicity and elegance a stark contrast to the ornate gowns you wore back home.

"Try this one first," she suggests, her smile kind and encouraging.

You nod and step behind the curtain, letting the heavy fabric fall closed behind you. As you slip out of your tunic and trousers, and into the sea-green dress, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at you seems like a stranger—a woman that looks to be withering away.

The assistant’s voice calls out from beyond the curtain. “How does it feel?”

You step out hesitantly, smoothing the dress over your hips. “I feel... pretty.”

The assistant’s eyes light up as she looks you over, but she shakes her head slightly. “Pretty? No, no, you should feel wonderful in your dress.” She turns to the rack of clothes, her fingers skimming over various fabrics. “Let’s try another one.”

She pulls out a dress of soft red with delicate lace details and hands it to you. You retreat behind the curtain once more, slipping into this new garment. As you adjust the straps and examine yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but think it still doesn’t quite capture what you need it to.

You step out again, and the assistant tilts her head, studying you carefully. “It’s beautiful,” she says slowly, “but I think we can do better.”

You nod in agreement, feeling a mix of frustration and anticipation. She disappears into the depths of the shop for a moment before returning with another dress draped over her arm—a shimmering black gown that seems to catch and reflect every sliver of light.

“Try this one,” she suggests, handing it to you with a knowing smile.

You take the dress from her and step back into the changing room. As you slide into the black gown, it hugs your curves perfectly, the fabric feeling like liquid night against your skin.

As you move to stand before the mirror, the assistant’s deft fingers adjust the black gown that clings to your form. The fabric flows like midnight silk, hugging your curves and cascading down in an elegant train. The assistant fusses with the hem, murmuring about how the dark color accentuates your natural beauty.

The bell above the shop door chimes, signaling a new customer. You glance up briefly, catching sight of a woman accompanied by her maid. She strides in with an air of entitlement, her voice cutting through the shop's quiet ambiance.

"I need a dress for tonight's formal event," she announces to the shopkeeper. "Something befitting my status."

You turn back to the mirror, disinterested. You've had your fill of rich and snobby nobles, their haughty airs and insipid conversations. The assistant continues her adjustments, pinning the fabric just so.

"The 42nd Marine Branch will be there," you overhear the noblewoman say as she examines a row of dresses. Your heart skips a beat, and anger surges through you like wildfire. Collins. Flickers of pain try emerge, but surprisingly, your anger and malice beat it back until all you can feel is unbridled rage.

The assistant looks up at you with a bright smile, oblivious to your internal storm. "This dress is perfect for you," she says, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

But your mind is elsewhere. An idea takes root, growing stronger by the second. You straighten up, slipping into the poised demeanor of your noble upbringing. Turning towards the other woman, you channel all the charm and grace you've learned to wield like a weapon.

"Pardon me," you begin smoothly, catching her attention. "I couldn't help but overhear about this formal event. It sounds simply delightful." You flash her a smile that would melt glaciers.

The noblewoman appraises you for a moment before recognition flickers in her eyes. She sees through to your noble heritage instantly, drawn in by your polished manners.

"Oh, yes," she says, warming to you. "It's going to be quite an affair. The 42nd Marine Branch is hosting it."

You tilt your head slightly, feigning innocent curiosity while inside you seethe with determination. "I would love to meet those brave men," you say with just the right amount of admiration in your tone.

The noblewoman steps closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Well, I can tell you're someone who appreciates such company," she says with a knowing smile. "It's being held on the next island over—a short ferry ride from here."

As she continues to gossip about the event—details about who will attend and what will be served—you nod and listen intently, all while formulating your plan. You’ll sneak away from Shanks and his watchful crew, take that ferry ride yourself. This time, you won’t be hindered by anyone—not even him.

"Thank you so much for sharing," you say as she finally finishes her spiel. "I've been plagued terribly by boredom."

You gaze at your reflection one last time in the black gown that now feels like armor—steely resolve coursing through your veins. The assistant is still fussing with the hem as you make up your mind: tonight will be Collins' reckoning.

The Red Force cuts through the waves, its sails billowing against the backdrop of a setting sun. The crew, usually boisterous and carefree, move with a tension that hangs heavy in the salty air. Shanks stands at the helm, his one arm gripping the wheel with unwavering resolve. His eyes scan the horizon, but his mind is fixated on Aria.

Gab strides up to him, his expression a mix of worry and confusion. "Captain, what if she spooked? What if she ran off to hide somewhere? She's—she's a quick learner and if she gets away we might not find her before something happens…"

Shanks shakes his head, his gaze hardening. "Aria isn't running," he says, voice steady but laced with an edge of worry. "She's going after Collins. This isn't fear driving her—it's revenge."

Lucky Roux, gnawing on a piece of meat as usual, joins them. "You really think she's out for blood?" he asks, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Shanks' grip on the wheel tightens. "She’s been through too much to let him get away with it," he says quietly. The wind whips through his red hair, adding to the storm brewing inside him. "She wants blood and she'll get it one way or another."

Below deck, the crew readies their weapons and checks supplies. The usual laughter and banter are replaced by somber determination. Each pirate understands the gravity of the situation; their “Treasure” is out there, possibly in danger, and they won’t let her face it alone.

Shanks’ mind flashes back to Aria’s laughter as they walked through the picturesque harbor village, her eyes sparkling with a subtle joy he hadn’t seen in so long. Even if that happiness was barely expressed. The thought of Collins' presence threatening that light fills him with a fury he rarely allows himself to feel. He's taken more than just Aria's happiness.

"We’re closing in on the island," Benn Beckman calls out from his vantage point atop the crow's nest. His sharp eyes never miss a thing.

Shanks nods, acknowledging Beckman’s words but never taking his eyes off the horizon. “Prepare for anything,” he commands. “Collins won’t know what hit him.”

As night falls, lanterns are lit on deck, casting flickering shadows that dance across tense faces. The air grows colder, but Shanks feels none of it; his focus is entirely on reaching Aria before Collins can inflict more harm.

The crew shares silent looks of understanding and determination. They’ve fought countless battles together, but this mission feels different—more personal for everyone.

“We’ll get her back,” Gab says firmly, clapping Shanks on the shoulder.

Shanks finally allows himself a small smile. “We will,” he agrees. But deep down, worry gnaws at him like a relentless tide against a rocky shore. He can only hope that when they find Aria, they won’t be too late.

The ship presses on through the darkening waters, every soul aboard united by one purpose: bring their Treasure home and make Collins pay for every ounce of suffering he has caused her.

Date Published: 8/2/24

Last Edit: 8/2/24

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[blarefordaglare]

Fan Joy July day 8

This one’s by @linderosse

Link: https://www.tumblr.com/linderosse/754647407210446848/the-zeldas-discover-monopoly-prev-18-next?source=share

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THE CHAOS IN THIS ONE! Fable “blasting” into the microphone while Lullaby is just silently dying in jail- and poor Dawn just waiting for the chaos to end- literally every single Zelda is just doing their own thing, contributing to the chaos as a whole, and Dot is just standing there like: I made cookies? Not to mention the artstyle is so pleasing to look at, I hope you enjoy this fic! 

___

It was a very peaceful day for the wielders of wisdom, a relaxing breeze of calm that swayed the maidens.

Emphasis on was. 

“I. HATE. YOU.” Artemis’ boasting voice rose above the already preexisting chaos, “Seven hundred rupees?! Curse you and your stupid hotels! I knew I should have bought Kakariko Village!” She paced nervously around the room, “I don’t even have half of that amount! What do you expect me to do?!”

“And the war princess is out of the game! Bankrupt!” Fable held the plastic microphone up to her lips, imagining the blasted voice that would come through it, “How are you feeling, team Sky Islands?!” 

Sun just smiled as she flicked the prop money in the air, as if it meant nothing, “Flora and I are doing just fine, maybe we should put another hotel?” 

“YEAH!” 

“…All right then folks! You heard the two, quit now while you still can!”

Dusk plopped down on the board, “I volunteer.” She couldn’t muster up the courage to get up, that’s Link’s thing, “I’m out.” 

“Wait, I lost first!” Artemis grinned, “That means I won!”

“In losing.”

“Shut it, they don’t need to know that.” 

Dawn could only drop her knees to the ground, clasping her hands together, “Hylia give me patience.” 

Her words were met with a shake of the first Zelda, “No can do, Dawn,” she danced around the board, “This is the most fun I’ve had in years!” Her eyes flickered to a familiar figure, with a noticeable amount of her well-played money, “Tetra-Give that back!”

“Never!” 

Lullaby noticed a figure sitting down next to her-well next to the box. Apparently she was in “jail” now. Could a princess even go to jail? Couldn’t she just change the laws? Would she be able to? What even was the government? “Care for a cookie?” Dot’s soft voice broke the barrage of questions ringing in her mind.

“Yeah,” She grabbed the cookie before whispering a quick ‘thanks’, along with a grateful look in her eyes that were now crinkled with time. 

“How long do you think they’ll be at it?”

“Give them five minutes. They’ll tire out…eventually.” 

[polyamphilza]

Baby steps

I wrote a short soft fitpac thing as a gift for @routeriver because they're very cool and I don't know how else to befriend people other than writing for them - please enjoy <3 -🍄#2

AO3 link if that's easier to read, the formatting got messed up on both I'm sorry

Fit often wondered why he'd been allowed to keep most of his memories. 

Sure the others had some of theirs from the far past. Phil remembered Techno and their adventures together, he seemed to remember Wilbur though a lot more recent history was fuzzy. Cellbit could remember his time in prison. 

None of them seemed to remember as much as Fit did though. He felt the only time he’d lost was how he ended up on the train to Quesadilla island in the first place. 

Maybe they weren't all there, and he couldn't tell what was missing, but when he sat in bed at night staring at the ceiling, memories replayed in his mind. 

2B2T, first logging in and seeing the chaos of spawn. The first time he'd made friends, been given gear, only to be double crossed. The sleepless nights, wondering if he'd die, flinching as the sun rose only to realize he'd made it through another night. 

His first kiss, rough and messy, nothing he'd ever wanted from a first kiss but it got the job done as skin grew heated beneath grabbing hands. 

He'd tried to ask Cucurucho once, why he remembered. The bear had just stared with that same ever present creepy smile. 

Fit often wondered who he would be if he had forgotten his past. If he'd arrived on the island as a new person, a fresh start, unworried about possible old grudges coming for him and forgetting the calluses on his hands were made from fighting. 

Would he still hesitate? 

"Fit?" 

He startled, though you wouldn't know it from the outside. He stayed still as he looked over at the voice that had said his name, trying to figure out when he'd left his room and gone outside for fresh air. 

"Hey Pac, what's up?" He asked with a tired smile. 

Pac came to sit beside him with a small grunt of effort. He wasn't wearing his leg, instead using a crutch to keep his balance. He must have been in bed, or about to be when he'd come outside instead. 

Fit couldn’t ignore what a huge sign of trust that was. He didn't know if he could lose his prosthetic with anyone, it made him too vulnerable. 

Maybe for Pac he could. 

"Nothing, nothing. I was uh, coming to check on you and you were not there." Pac explained. The darkness hid his blush for the most part. 

"Aw, I'm sorry. Did you need me?" Fit asked, worried he'd let his roommate down. 

"No! No, I did not need you." Pac cleared his throat. "I just had not got to see you today. I wanted to, before I slept." He admitted shyly. 

Fit's mind took a moment to process that, and translate the meaning behind the words. "Oh, you missed me." He realized and smiled. 

Pac pulled his hoodie up to hide the lower half of his face a bit, clearly flustered at being called out. 

He nodded, keeping his gaze elsewhere. 

"I just get used to seeing you, you know?" He tried to explain. "You are a uh, a here always." 

"A constant?" 

"Yes, yes a constant." Pac smiled and nodded. "So I wanted to see my roomie before sleep." He bumped their shoulders together and chuckled. 

Fit looked over at him and felt warmth flow through his veins stronger than a good shot of whiskey. 

Pac's hair was dark, a beautiful contrast to the bright moon haloing behind his head. His smile was small, but still showed the dimple on his cheeks. He knew that if Pac pulled his lips back a bit more he'd get to see his sharpened teeth and the adorable gap between the two front ones. 

They sat there for awhile in silence, enjoying the presence of the other. Fit's mind continued to spin. 

"Pac," He started, stopped, licked his lips. He dragged his palms over his thighs, suddenly feeling sweaty. His throat was dry. He opened his mouth to continue only to pause again. No words would come out. 

"Fit?" Pac said after a moment, promoting him to continue. 

What if he had forgotten? Would he still hesitate? 

"... I like being your constant. You're mine too. I don't want that to change." Fit blurted out quickly, then bit his tongue and looked away. He covered his mouth with his hand as he found an interesting bit of grass to stare at and inspect nearby. 

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. 

It was as truthful as he could be at the moment, and already he was wondering if he’d gone too far, if it was too much too soon. 

"I like it too." Pac mumbled, and it was the specific tone of voice he had when he was blushing and embarrassed. "I like it a lot." 

Silence stretched between them, and Fit thought that was okay. It was a comfortable kind of silence, with the wind blowing past softly. 

Maybe in another timeline, maybe another universe, he wouldn't hesitate. Maybe he would pick Pac up and kiss him soundly and admit just how much he cared about him. Maybe they would share a bed every night, and Fit would feel comfortable taking his prosthetic off in front of him. Maybe they would hold hands, and cook together. 

Maybe he could be happy. 

He wanted to believe he could have that here too. 

"Do you want help back to bed?" Fit offered. 

Pac blushed and giggled. "Yeah, yeah if you don't mind. Put those janitor muscles to the test." He joked. 

Fit laughed softly as he stood and picked Pac up. He thought about how nicely that color red suited his cheeks. 

"Alright, no funny business or I'm tossing you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes." He warned playfully. 

Pac giggled and rested his head on Fit's shoulder, his hand laying flat against his strong chest. "Okay, no funny business. Professional business only." He joked. 

Fit brought him to bed with a smile on his face. He watched as Pac's eyelids grew heavy and he started nodding off. 

In the dim light of the room, with only God as his witness, he pressed the barest hint of a kiss to Pac's forehead and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder. 

Baby steps.