#my self-UNaware king
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iampresent ¡ 2 months ago
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Listen your appreciation of Astarion will rise dramatically when you realize that on top of all the other shit he has going on, he is also legitimately dumb as rocks. Like, all the characters in Baldur's Gate are at least a little bit silly in one way or another, but it really takes something special to, after having escaped 200 years of being under an evil mind control curse, cheerfully and enthusiastically explore options for ingesting worms that will lead to a new, different evil mind control curse because you like. might get powers. And that's not even a certainty.
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whorelaud ¡ 2 months ago
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WRONG NUMBER, LOSER – rafe cameron (1)
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a rafe cameron mini smau series
summary Rafe gets tangled in a complex love-hate relationship when shooting his shot at a party, merely for him to end up with the wrong number instead, leading to a new beginning, or so he assumed, unaware of who really was behind the screen; his next door neighbor, whom he'd define his sworn enemy.  contains neighbor!reader, enemies (?) to lovers, wrong number trope, mostly texts, sexual jokes, shameless flirting, loser!rafe, lots of tension, attempt at humor
NAVIGATION. main masterlist; 01 ÂĄ 02
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Unknown Number: Hello there, I don't know if you remember but I asked for your number earlier
Unknown Number: I know I’m moving rather fast, but I couldn't help myself you’re too pretty ;)
Unknown Number: I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner. Only if you're down of course ❤️ 
You: im sorry who? 
You: oh that red heart you must rlly like her
Unknown Number: What? What do you mean? 
Unknown Number: Is this not Brian? 
You: this aint no brian
You: no way did brian turn you down 
You: Wowwww very low of her im so sorry king 
Unknown Number: You don't know that
Unknown Number: She probably mistyped one of the digits by accident 
You: Dawgggg ☠️☠️
You: no way you believe that
You: she told you her name was brian what did you expect
Unknown Number: Hey what’s wrong with that
Unknown Number: My dad’s name is Brian 
You: woahhh :o
You: is it actually 
Unknown Number: No I made that up
You: Haha Very Funny. 
Unknown Number: This sucks
Unknown Number: Why am I even talking to you
Unknown Number: I thought what we had was real wow I’m offended
Unknown Number: Who would even think of rejecting me 
You: smb get this guy’s phone before i beat his ass ☠️☠️
Unknown Number: Bruh
Unknown Number: I’m already going through enough can’t you at least be nice
You: the audacity of you to say that after disturbing MY peace 
You: you got the wrong number loser
You: i'm no brian, i think ive made that clear. im sorry some girl rejected you, im sure she had her reasons, as ive seen enough!!! but yeah, i think now’s a good time to delete my number and never contact me again 👍 
Unknown Number: This is my cellular device 
Unknown Number: I’ll do what I want 
You: … ermmm 😅
You: is this your way of hinting you still wanna talk to me? 
Unknown Number: Maybe
You: damn
You: youre one clingy bitch
You: I see Why Sh e rejected You. 
Unknown Number: She didn't reject me. 
You: And I didn't fail my calculus exam. 
Unknown Number: What? That doesn't even make sense
You: wah wah cry me a river
You: youre really annoying has anyone ever told you that
Unknown Number: Plenty actually 
You: love a self aware king
Unknown Number: Why do you keep assuming im a man
You: no woman texts like you 
Unknown Number: Is that supposed to hurt my feelings
You: take it as you will
Unknown Number: Ah man
Unknown Number: What should I refer to you as
You: that shouldn't be any of your concerns???
You: who said im contacting you after this. 
Unknown Number: Me. 
You: nah fuck that im blocking you
You: dealing with a lousy bitch of a neighbor has alr done numbers on me i do not want to associate with you in any way or form.
Unknown Number: WHAT DONT BLOCK ME
Unknown Number: I am in no way or form associated with your lousy bitch of a neighbor. Do not block me please. 
You: How do you Know That. 
You: You Seem Just as Annoying as Him. 
Unknown Number: I just noticed 
Unknown Number: Are you mocking me? 
You: ?? why would you Assume That
Unknown Number: You are 
Unknown Number: See you did it just now
You: Nahhhh this fool is crazy We Assuming things Now?
Unknown Number: Bruh 
Unknown Number: You’re so mean
You: glad you noticed that
Unknown Number: im into it
You: what
You: pardon me
You: am i seeing things
Unknown Number: Definitely 
You: bye
You: im done
You: i no longer want to be apart of this conversation 
Unknown Number: Ugh
You: ugh??? UGH???????
Unknown Number: Whatever 🙄 can you just tell me your name at least?
You: no
Unknown Number: Why
You: im not telling a random stranger online what my name is
Unknown Number: That’s just not a good reason 
Unknown Number: Fine I’ll come up with something to call you then
You: uhh??? i never agreed to any of this
Unknown Number: Sugar is cute
You: what the fuck
You: that is diabolical (get it cause its sugar) don't you dare fucking call me that
 Unknown Number: Sugar it is then
You: stop
You: STOP. 
You: NO
You: how did that even come to mind
Unknown Number: Cause you’re as sweet as sugar, baby ;) 
You: youre doing this on purpose aren't you 
You: including you in my suicide note
Unknown Number: Have fun doing that
Unknown Number: You don't even know my name sugar
You: Dtop It. 
You: It feels like You're flirtinf With Me. 
You: I Do Not like That. 
Unknown Number: Deal with it. 
You: no
You: is this you admitting you're head over heels in love with me
Unknown Number: Definitely 
You: im leaving
Unknown Number: Joking hahah haba Ha ha
You: i actually have to leave
You: i own a needy cat who demands my attention
Unknown Number: Oh okay
Unknown Number: Have fun with your cat 
You: thanks boo
You: it was (not) fun chatting with you i guess… 
Unknown Number: It was a pleasure chatting with you sugar
Unknown Number: I look forward to more in the future 
You: die
You: it feels like youre mocking me. 
Unknown Number: I am not you.
You: hey whats wrong w me… 
Unknown Number hearted your message!
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a/n hi!!! hehehe lmk what u think this was so much fun 2 write! dk if im making a taglist or not but we'll see, this is chapter one for now :p i also wanna make a masterlist but idk GRRAHH well see
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barbieaemond ¡ 1 year ago
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And I dream of a grave
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Header by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs 💕💕
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
Warnings: angst (!), smut, too many references to graves/burying, mentions of Blood & Cheese, miscommunication, Aemond's coping mechanism is violence and sex, in this order (good for him)
Word count: 3.8k
Author's note: the gif is self explanatory. This is a prequel to A Curse for a Curse, but can be read as a standalone. Big thank you to @irenadel for giving me the idea and being one of the most supportive souls <3
Taglist: @ladystarksneedle @arcielee @multyfangirl
MASTERLIST | English is not my first language
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This is more than tempting the Gods. This is forsaking and impudently turning their backs on them.
As she sits down at the banquet, her mother’s words echo through her mind like the vexing sound of the wind on a storm’s night. It sets an unpleasant weight on her lungs, the close and yet shapeless feel of something dreadful. She’s almost grateful, looking around, to ascertain she’s not the only fool dreading this whole act.
The Dowager Queen sits at the table, barely able to contain a grimace. Queen Helaena, she is certain, has never looked so pale, her eyes so vacuous and yet so full of something unknown, elusive, smoke clouding and clearing her unnatural stare. The Hand has conveniently made himself absent. She can’t blame him. Actually, she envies him. If only she too could have been spared such a farce. But as the wife of the King’s brother, the very one they’re all supposed to celebrate tonight, she cannot do that, can she?
To cheers and the blaring of trumpets, the King enters shoulder to shoulder with his brother, tall and proud in his stride, wearing dark green velvet for such a special occasion, and such a special title.
“Do you know how they’re going to call you from now on?” the Queen Mother had asked when he came back from Storm’s end, dripping rain and mud and war.
“I do, Mother.” Aegon had answered, twisting a knife from his seat at the head of the table; she had never caught that glint of satisfaction in his eyes, not like that; it wasn’t dimmed by wine or flesh, but sharp as the blade in his hand. “A title he should be proud of.”
Pride was ever the easiest thing to wear for Aemond, the softest glove gliding on his skin, born out of a pit so deep and full of insecurities and negligence that that same endless depth had grown out of proportion in order to fill itself. To even try scratching his pride was like trying to climb the highest mountain with bare hands. She had cut her palms open to do so.
“What happened, Aemond?” she had asked once alone in their chambers.
“You know what happened.”
“What really happened?”
His good eye had pierced her as if she were made of crystal, but his jaw was too set, on the verge of breaking his own teeth if he carried on keeping the guilt, and truth, trapped inside.
“I didn’t want to.” He whispered, coming down from the peak, “I didn’t want to kill him. I only wanted—”
“Revenge? Well, you had it. Did it make you feel good? Did you bring that boy peace at last?”
It took him a lifetime to say no; a whispered sound, choked even, as if he had bitten off his tongue to get it out of that pit where he had never looked again.
He was biting his tongue in the council, the faintest clench in his jaw but here, here in the council, here in the world, he had to keep that pit buried and stand straight on the highest peak, looking up and up, never down, never back. How could he, how could he admit he had lost control. It was easier, safer, to let them think of him a monster, rather than just human.
“I salute you, brother.” The King had said, raising his cup “True blood of the dragon! We shall have a feast in your honor!" Otto had merely lowered his head in defiance, going unnoticed in the eyes of his King and grandson, drunk with power and finally free of his mother's leash, unaware that a golden noose now held him in check.
He had summoned jesters, musicians, even some dancers to coddle his brother, and raise him higher and higher. She imagined she just had to wait for the fall. Or perhaps pray to the Seven to overlook the insult, to keep a mortal up there with them for a little more. But then again, they shouldn’t ask the Gods for mercy. Someone more unforgiving, more bloodthirsty. Someone who, just as her husband and his brother and each one of their cursed dynasty, did not listen to either Gods or men.
“A toast!” the King says at one point, turning to his left. “To my brother Aemond and a long overdue justice, is it not?”
Out of courtesy and duty, she grabs her cup and raises it, but as everyone at the table sips their wine, all she tastes is contempt, and the cup hits the surface untouched. But not unseen.
“Brother, wine may cloud my judgment, but it seems to me that your beloved wife does not share the sentiment of this fine evening. I wonder why.”
She holds the King’s demanding stare with a firm one, aware of Aemond looking at her even if his eye is fixed on the table. He has ignored her for the whole night, not sparing her a single glance. Because she owns the truth, doesn’t she, and it’s a knife pointed at his back.  
“May I speak my mind, your Grace?”
There’s the slightest shift in Alicent’s posture, as if she were desperately waiting for her, or anyone, to cease all of this, to say this isn’t right.
Aegon pulls a thin, lazy smile and tilts his silver head, swirling his cup. “Why, of course, Princess. My brother tells me you have a habit of doing so.”
“Did he, now?” she resists the urge to scoff; such a despicable habit for a woman in this world.
“Fret not, good sister, I’m certain he holds no grudges against you for your silver tongue.”
“Oh, I’m quite certain too, your Grace. I know for a fact that he likes it.”
A few lords can do very little to hold their snickering, Aegon himself does not hide his malicious smirk, petty at the edges. It must run in the blood.
���Careful though, you don’t want to spend too much time talking, lest you leave my poor brother without any heir! It’s been a while since you two lovebirds tied the knot, isn’t that right?”
She glances beside her, surely Aemond won’t let that slight insult pass, but he stays still and silent like a statue. She can’t quite believe what she’s witnessing. This is the same man who would call the crowned head at the table wastrel, depraved, disgrace.
So much for a disgrace, now that he fosters your pride and lies.
“I can assure you, good brother, that the talking is well outweighed by other activities that involve very few words.”
Aegon plasters a big grin on his face, yet she’s not finished. “But perhaps the Gods are sparing me the burden of bringing a child in such troubled times. A realm at war is not the best place to live in, is it not?”
“It depends on which side you’re on, Princess.”
There’s suspicion in his tone, but she just blinks at him. “My apologies, I was not aware that my loyalty to your House, and my husband’s, was to be questioned.”
“Come now. We are bound by what if not words?”
“I was under the impression that the Crown should fear his own kin more than a simple foreign girl from the West.”
At that, Helaena lets out a strange noise, something close to a wince, and silence falls all over. It is only now that Aemond undoes the stone he walled himself in and acts as he always does when he feels belittled, or worse, threatened. He shuts her out.
“I’m afraid my wife is growing tired, brother. ’Tis best for her to retire.”
She bites her tongue and turns her head. There’s no mistake in his tone, that is an order. She stares at him and he stares back, blankly, and then, just as it is expected of her, she obeys.
She goes without saying a word, aware of Aemond’s eye on her, of Aegon’s little victorious giggle. He snaps his fingers and two dancing girls flock to his brother. She knows this because she can’t resist but turning before disappearing. The girls are said to come from Lys, no less. But he’s not sparing them a single glance. His eye follows her out of the hall, and even after.
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Candles almost extinguished, casting a soft glow in the bedchamber, dim but enough to make the shape of her body visible under the covers.
“I know you’re pretending to be asleep.” He says, placing his dagger and eyepatch on the nightstand.
She doesn’t bother to wait a single moment to fly her eyes open. “Was I not supposed to pretend I was tired?”
When she gets no answer, she turns to face him, finding him on his feet near the bed, undoing the buttons of his doublet. His eye is on her, though, wide, as someone ready to hunt but seeing traps everywhere.
“Did you enjoy your feast?” she asks with piqued interest. “Such a shame that I missed most of it. I was eager to watch the girls from Lys dance. How were they?”
“Enough. You should thank me for dismissing you. You were bordering on high treason.”
“Since when telling the truth is considered high treason?”
“Is that what you were going to say? The truth? To make me look like a fool in front of the whole court?”
“I was only going to say that the feast was an insult and a challenge to the Gods or any common sense. And I know that beneath all the pats on the shoulder and the endorsement on your brother’s part, you are of the same mind.” she hopes to see the barest glimpse of validation on his face, at least here, where he can leave behind his pride and admit he made a mistake. Is that what you call starting a war?
But his expression is as closed as ever, wary.
She wishes it would hurt less than it does. “Of all the people ready to betray you, how quick you are to assume I’d be the first.”
“We’re bound by words, are we not?”
“Take your brother off your mouth.” She says absentmindedly; she tries to not let it sting, but it does anyway. It is a low blow, and she knows he does not believe it. He has raised the walls, coiling like a snake, and there’s no point trying to climb and risk cracking her skull open on the ground. She will have to wait for him to come down. “Then perhaps I should consider my father’s proposal.”
She leaves the bed and grabs a letter lying open on the desk. “He wrote me this letter. That is why my mother came all the way here, apparently to see how her daughter was faring.”
Aemond eyes it with the barest twitch in his lips, then looks up into her eyes and, with a sigh, she clears her throat.
“My dearest daughter,
It is with great concern and sadness that I write you this letter.
Words have reached me about the recent events involving Storm’s End and young Prince Lucerys’ demise. My spirits are low when thinking of the fate you’re enduring. But I want you to think carefully of this: annulments are rare but possible. Even more so since you bore no heirs yet. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins. I only need a word from you, daughter, and I shall hastily consult with a High Septon.”
She can barely register his arm moving, only sees his hand snatching the letter out of her grip, crumpling the paper between his fingers. Nostrils flaring, eye widening, she reads insult all over his face. About time.
“Is that it, Aemond? Is that the reason you’d think I would betray you? Because I didn’t bleed on a birthing bed yet? Is that how you measure my loyalty? What of all the times I drew your bath, washed your hair, pulled the boots off your feet? What about that curtain—“ she adds, pointing to the windows “and the fact that I told the maid to keep that side always closed so the sun will not bother your eye? Do you think I did all of this because of some empty words?”
He looks as if she has just slapped him. Mistrust and bewilderment run together all over his sharp features, trying to win one another, and she waits and waits, and she begs as all the purest things must be pleaded, wordlessly.
Come down. Come down. Lay down with me. In our bed, a grave, it matters not. I'll take the shovel and do the burying.
But he stands still on his high and cursed perch, the grip on the letter loosens, his shoulders slump a little, because this, this comes so easily. Violence. It’s the other glove he wears like second skin.
“You will write to your father and tell him if I hear another word about annulments, I will have his head for treason. And as for you… you tell a living soul what you know, and you shall join the Silent Sisters. You won’t even have to vow your silence, for I shall take your sharp tongue first.”
She watches him go, standing in the middle of the room like a fool; her hands bleeding still and a plea, unheard, choking to death in her chest.
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Her hands heal, stay whole for so long. She feels she cannot reach him this time, no matter how hard she tries to climb. She finds no footholds, no inlets, until she stops looking for any.
She finds she has no strength to do it anymore. They’re all dead anyway, each of them in their own way, their own burial.
The king drinks and rages and drinks and rages. Helaena rocks on herself all day long, chasing the highs and lows of her laments. Jaehaera stares at her mother with her small lips sewn, her eyes wide and the Queen Mother weeps and weeps, wondering if the little girl is watching her mother go mad with grief or yet again her twin brother’s head rolling on the ground like one of her toys.
And Aemond…she does not know where Aemond chose to bury himself. He spends the day out, trying to escape the smothering grip of the Stranger’s claws, his curse…or is it only retribution?
Sometimes he’s in the training yard, sometimes that same yard becomes theater for revenge. He kills whoever helped Blood and Cheese enter the Keep, man or woman, he doesn’t care. He tortures them, and she wants to beg him to stop, to tell him that torturing one, two, or one hundred men won’t stop guilt from torturing him.
So, he wanders restlessly, basks in small and big cruelties, until the sun sets and she’s aware, as the bed dips under his weight, that she is his own burial. He takes her at any time, in any place, be it the bed, the desk, or bent over the vanity, she cannot do anything to stop him. She doesn’t want to and yet she aches to do it. Because it’s always sudden, and harsh and hurtful when he pulls her hair, when he spares no time to stoke her desire, when he keeps her bent with her back turned and a firm hand on her neck like some kind of punishment.
It never used to be like this. It had been playful, teasing, painfully slow as if he were separating salt from water, and then fast, urgent, unraveling for two inexperienced newlyweds.
But it had never been like that. There was no joy in it. Only a duty to be fulfilled. Some twisted way to gain control, while anyone else kept slipping from his hands. Just as Vhagar slipped out of his control on that fateful night of storm.
He remembered that dark thrill pounding in his veins, the laughter gushing out of his throat like poison. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t know whether Vhagar was fueling his fire or the other way around, perhaps both. Just a little more, he’d thought, as Arrax batted his wings frantically, desperate, mirroring his young rider, to escape the gaping jaws of the Queen of All Dragons.
That’s what he wanted. He wanted to relish in his nephew’s dread, he wanted to drink it. He wanted him alone, desperate, hopeless, just as he had been.
And then he felt it, the shift in the ancient fire pit he was riding, like a boat tipping over and there was no helm to grab onto and bring it back to land. He had sunk his own family into the bleak abyss of Daemon Targaryen’s soul.
He had come to collect, thoroughly. A son for a son, yes, but he had taken much more than Jaehaerys. He’d taken Helaena as well. Even Jaehaera.
Will she ever be able to speak again?
Will my Mother ever forgive me?
Words never spoken, stuck on his tongue and then gagged and swallowed. He cannot look down, cannot look back. He must look up and forward, like soldiers do. To the next battle, to war.
But there’s this woman. And the sight of her in his bed that makes his breath hitch and for two reasons entirely opposite to one another. The first is the most ancient one. But she’s also a thorn in his side, for she knows. She knows everything. She knows all his peaks and depths, every brick in his walls and how to dismantle them; she knows he’s strong and weak, that he’s scared and guilty and worthy of his mother’s contempt, but he cannot bear any of this in front of her.
He flees her presence during the day, only to impose himself on her for the whole night. She cannot refuse him. And he cannot have her prying and dismantling his well-crafted walls and lies, so he takes her and takes her and takes her until he works themselves up to exhaustion and she’s a rag doll in his hands. It serves the purpose, though. As long as she has his cock in her mouth, as long as he harshly pounds into her, cutting her breath from the inside, she cannot ask questions. As long as he keeps chasing his pleasure, and his rugged breaths muffle his own ears, he cannot think straight.  
He's close now and it’s the second time already. The sheets are damp beneath their bodies, his back glints with sweat, damps his forehead as he thrusts inside her one more time. They’re lying on their side, but he keeps her caged against him, his arm has slipped on the mattress and under her neck to keep her still, with her back to him. With his cheek glued to hers, he croons praises in her ear, falling mindlessly from his lips but like drops in the ocean. Once, she would redden, smile blissfully, or challenge him, to go deeper, or harder, or both, but she’s a limp thing now. A mere body panting upon being fucked by another, that’s all.
This is possession. Or a desperate attempt to. Each night, he holds her as if it’s the last time and she could slip away from him at any moment, turning her back on him. She can feel it now, in the way he’s gripping her shoulder, the way his nails dig in her skin, carving into her bones: stay with me. Please. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.
But it’s him keeping her away, turning her own back on him.
Don’t you know, she wishes to tell him, that I won’t, ever. I won’t. No matter how cursed you are. I won’t. I won’t.
He grabs her thigh, resting it on his hip, spreading his long fingers on her skin, spreading her legs so he can find the perfect angle and picks up the pace. She shudders with every thrust, gasping with her throat dry, feeling the long bridge of his nose sinking in her cheek, his grunts growing rougher and deeper; some strange choked sound at the back of his throat.
He comes quietly, panting shallowly against the damp fabric of her nightgown. And he stays there, claw gripping her shoulder, head sunk between her neck and collarbone, and deep to the hilt buried in her.
A tear rolls down her cheek. She doesn’t know where it comes from, who she is mourning, she can’t tell these days. Perhaps she’s mourning him, who he was, who he is now and who he is forcing himself to be. She doesn’t know where the deception lies anymore. She wishes she could push it back in, prays that it goes unnoticed, swallowed along with all the others, but she should know by now, the Gods are not in her favor anymore, if they ever had been.
“Why are you crying?”
She turns her head, and her breath hitches. The gemstone glints, yes, but she’s too struck by his eye to even notice the sapphire. There’s something raw there, bare, more than his very skin now. It’s the first time she sees that look on him, torn, heavy lidded and not by pleasure.
This is the burden of grief.
She wonders if that’s the reason he’s so keen on fucking her with her back turned, so she can’t see him. Perhaps she didn’t look hard enough. She thought he had risen too high, out of her reach, of anyone’s. She thought he would never fall, not in every sense of the word.
Hence, she’s at a loss for words, slightly pulling herself up, when he slowly comes down; he curls into himself, into her lap, resting his head there like a child. No Kinslayer, no Dragon Prince, no son, no brother. No husband. Just a human, bare in the skin and soul.
Aemond wraps his hand around her knee, gently, and then tighter and tighter, shutting his eye. He’s on land now, but the room is spinning, the whole world is spinning and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He feels he started it all, he threw a spinning top and got sucked into it. And she’s the only firm thing he can hold onto.
“Do you think I’m cursed?” he whispers, the barest flutter of his long eyelashes against his cheekbone.
But she has no answer. All she has are her hands, sliding on his naked skin, through his loose hair, gently, as if touching the thinnest glass, sealing the cracks. Her palms slice open again.  
“Aren’t we all?”
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And I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more."
- The Castle, Franz Kafka.
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iwasnotaslasher ¡ 3 months ago
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Listen, I see your soft dom, self-confident, well experienced Eddie, and I rise you my dork, accidentally sexy, completely-unaware-of-his-charm, disaster bi Eddie.
It just amuses me the idea of Steve finding him attractive DESPITE his goofiness and being utterly pissed about it.
Also, Eddie being completely oblivious that his bad attempts at flirting are actually working? On Steve?? Steve "King" Harrington, jock of Hawkins High School??? ...and freezing in shock when he comes to realize everything because that's just nnnnmmmghhhhh!
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justauthoring ¡ 5 months ago
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This is the Beginning [2/?]
Summary: You never thought you'd be able to escape Buggy, and yet, a boy with a straw hat, a man with three swords and a girl with orange hair somehow manage to free you. The journey that follows afterwards is your chance at freedom and maybe something more.
A One Piece Live Action Rewrite
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four
Pairing: Live Action!Zoro Roronoa x F!Reader
TW for this chapter: kuro, canon typical violence, kuro makes a comment about your eye, that's about it
Word Count: 11,044
A/N: This chapter was so fun to write and I'm even more excited for the next because... SANJIIIII!! Which of course means we get to see some jealous Zoroooooo
I hope to have chapter three out soon, but school is crazy as usual so be patient with me <3
Tag List: @emmaiscool22
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Chapter Two - Acceptance
“Are you sure you don’t mind me borrowing some of your clothes, Nami?”
Glancing up from the Grand Line map she’d been studying, Nami just raises a brow down at you. “I’d rather you borrow my clothes then wear those atrocious clothes that clown had you in,” she shakes her head, almost shuddering at the memory. The sight pulls a small smile to your lips. “Seriously, he had no fashion sense.”
You let out a small laugh. “They were pretty ugly, weren’t they?” You grin up at her, and she pauses, as if shocked you were smiling so openly. You don’t mind. You realize you did look pretty miserable that time they’d set you free, extremely self-pitying too. You still had your self-doubts, of course, but Luffy’s excitement at you joining them was pretty reassuring and it was hard not to appreciate how freeing the whole experience had been.
There was still the whole issue that Luffy seemed to be the only one convinced that you were in fact a pirate crew. Nami and Zoro seemed insistent on denying that, repeatedly telling him they were not a crew when he’d tried explaining it to you. Nami said she was only with the two because she had a shared interest in the Grand Line map. When you asked Zoro, he’d just shrugged, saying he was seeing where it took him. You’d snickered silently to yourself at that, thinking to yourself that the both of them just weren’t ready to admit that they were in fact a part of Luffy’s crew and probably liked that fact.
But you’d let them lie about it for now.
As for you, you nodded at Luffy when he explained how the goal was to find the One Piece and for him to become the Pirate King. In response, you’d shrugged and said; “Sure, Captain. Sounds like a plan.”
His eyes had practically sparkled at that while Zoro and Nami instantly groaned in response, berating you for enticing Luffy. You’d only laughed, saying you didn’t mind calling him Captain and being in his crew because there was nowhere else for you to go.
You’d been a captive of Buggy’s for years. Forced to be a part of his crew and do his bidding day in and day out. There really was nowhere else for you to go or call home. You’d suffered scars and injuries that would never leave, both mentally and physically. But Luffy, Zoro and Nami seemed to think nothing of your doubts, especially your eye. Despite his initial assurance, you felt extra assured by the fact that you had your eyepatch back and no one was going to be forcing you to take it off to make a mockery of you again.
Those days were gone.
With a wistful sigh, you turn, moving to the edge of the boat and breathing in the air. You never enjoyed being on Buggy’s boat but that hadn’t been because you didn’t enjoy being out on sea, but rather because it had been Buggy’s boat in the first place.
You are unaware of Nami’s eyes following you until she lets out a rather undignified snort.
“More than ugly,” she rolls her eyes as you turn back to glance at her. “More like atrocious. We should burn them when we get the chance.”
You let out a chuckle. “You think? I’d sure like to get rid of the memory of them.”
Nami’s lips part to respond, but before she can, she’s cut off by Luffy; 
“Nami! Y/N!”
Rolling her eyes, Nami shifts her attention in front of you as you spin around to face Luffy. “What?”
Grabbing the large sheet of fabric he’d been fiddling with for the past hour or so, he stretches it wide in front of him, blocking what you’re sure is a beaming smile, and calls out; “it’s ready!”
Lips parting, you tilt your head, trying to get a good look at the lopsided skull.
“And what is it?”
Lowering the fabric so his face pokes up over it, Luffy grins; “our Jolly Roger. Every pirate crew has to have one. And now we do!”
“We’re not a crew,” Nami huffs, “and you are not hanging that on my boat.” With that, she turns back to the map.
Luffy blinks at her.
Stepping forward, you smile gently at Luffy; “it’s a little lopsided too, no?”
Peeking over the top, Luffy raises a brow. “I think it’s perfect.”
You bite your lip, holding back your laugh just as the door squeaks open behind him. Glancing over Luffy’s shoulder, you meet Zoro’s gaze.
“Zoro!” Luffy wastes no time spinning to face his friend, “Zoro, check it out.”
Pausing in the door, Zoro lets his eyes drag across it for a moment before meeting Luffy’s gaze, expression never changing.
“That’s unique.”
“It’s kind of cute in a way.” You offer, feeling a bit bad for Luffy who clearly had worked hard on it. “It has its own charm.”
Zoro just rolls his eyes at you. “It’s definitely not going to scare any other pirates.”
Turning back to Luffy’s jolly roger, he turns to you expectantly. As you let your eyes drift across it again, you have to admit, it’s more adorable than frightening. With a grimace, you offer him a pitying smile.
“Nami,” Zoro calls, leaning against the edge of the boat. “I think the toilet’s busted.”
Peering at him behind her glasses, Nami blinks, “we don’t have a toilet.”
There’s a pause, before Zoro offers a short; “oh.” Turning back towards the door, he shrugs. “Well, then something back there’s leaking.”  
“What?”
Not hesitating a second more, she hops off the boxes she’d been sitting on, storming past the three of you and slamming the door shut behind her.
Luffy waits one second before he says; “where should I hang it?”
“Uh, Luffy,” you call, “I don’t think Nami will…”
He ignores you, eyes snapping round to find the best place.
“It’s best to let him do what he wants,” Zoro calls from behind you, your head turning round to glance at him. He’s crossed his arms over his chest again, leaning nonchalantly back. “And not get involved.”
“Is that what you do?” You ask, raising a brow. “Choose not to get involved?”
Zoro just stares at you. “Not if I don’t have to,” he answers, as if that’s the obvious answer.
Something told you that wasn’t the whole truth.
Before you can respond, however, Nami comes back out.
“We’re taking in water. What did you do?” She accuses Zoro.
Zoro leans towards her; “I didn’t do anything.”
Eyes flickering between the both of them, feeling the tension rising, your stomach twists uncomfortably.
“Guys, maybe we should—”
“The way you’re clanging those swords around, you must’ve broken something,” she scoffs.
Zoro snorts. “If you’re such a good thief, maybe you should’ve stolen a better boat.”
“Guys, guys, guys,” Luffy calls, successfully cutting their argument off. You let out a breath of relief at that, grateful they at least chose to listen to Luffy. “Okay, crew meeting.”
On cue, both of them huff; “not a crew!”
You offer a nervous smile.
Unphased as usual, Luffy turns to the three of you. “We're gonna need a better ship to make it to the Grand Line. A real pirate ship.” Then, pausing for dramatic effect, he smirks; “worthy of the Straw Hat crew.”
“Wait,” Nami calls, “Straw Hat crew? Really?”
“Yeah,” Luffy nods, “I thought it had a nice ring to it.”
“‘Demon’ has a nice ring to it,” Zoro scoffs. “Headgear? Not scary.”
“Well,” you speak up, meeting Zoro’s eyes before turning to Luffy. “I like it. It’s unique.”
Nami rolls her eyes, “do you have to keep encouraging him?” She asks you.
You shrug, smiling. 
Luffy beams at you. “Thank you, Y/N.” He turns to Zoro, “and who says pirates have to be scary?”
At that, both of them give pause.
“I definitely don’t want to be scary,” you mumble, more to yourself than anyone.
“The point is we need a new ship.” Luffy backtracks, “so where do we get one?”
Grabbing her maps, Nami sighs. “Our closest bet is the Gecko Islands. We can probably make it there before our ship sinks. Ditch this one and get a better one.”
“Good,” Zoro drawls, “with a working toilet.”
Nami glares at him but Luffy just grins; “great job, navigator.” He turns back to grab his jolly roger.
“You’re still not hanging that on my ship,” Nami reminds.
-
After Luffy and Nami’s disagreement of stealing a ship and the former running off to somehow convince a salesman to just give him a ship, you’re left wandering around with Nami and Zoro.
You weren’t a big fan of stealing a ship either, but you knew realistically that Nami was right. None of you had enough to berry to be able to buy a ship legally and Nami’s old ship was no longer an option. 
Trailing behind Nami and next to Zoro, you let your eyes drag across the hustle and bustle of the shipyard, unable to fight the smile that curls on your lips as you watch people flutter around, completely in their own worlds. It’s such a simple thing and yet, you can seem to pull your eyes off of the bustling crowds completely engrossed in their worlds.
“Never been to a shipyard before?”
It takes you a second to realize Zoro is talking to you. With a blink and parted lips, you turn to him, meeting his eyes. It’s clear he’d been watching you, dark and intense eyes already on you and the realization pulls a light flush to your cheeks.
“I’ve been,” you answer, nodding. Eyeing Nami out of the corner of your eye and watching as she carefully glances around, entirely for a different reason than you had been. She’s in her own world, promptly and probably pointedly ignoring the both of you. 
Focusing back on Zoro, you lick your lips. “It’s just…” But you trail off, unsure.
“What?” Zoro asks, blunt as usual.
The look on his face tells you he’s waiting to hear what you were going to say.
“Different,” you shrug, moving to hug your arm as you curl in on yourself. It’s clear you’re not as open as you were trying to pretend you were since joining Luffy’s crew. While the three of them were definitely nothing like Buggy, it was hard to deny that Zoro was intimidating. You’d only been with them for a short amount of time, but Luffy was easy to get along with. He did most of the talking anyways and his energy was infectious.
Nami you’d been unsure of at first too, and while she sometimes seemed closed off, she was easy to hold a conversation with. Sometimes short or cold, you still found her approachable.
Zoro, for some reason, made you nervous. You couldn’t rightly explain it. Every time you met his eye or tried to talk to him, you’d clam up with nerves and find yourself stumbling more than you usually did. Honestly, you made yourself look like a fool more times than not with him. His gaze was heavy, and the second it landed on you, it was like he was trying to unearth all your secrets.
“Different how?” He asks, pressing.
You lick your lips. “It’s… different seeing all these people without having to fear that Buggy might snap and kill them all.” Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, taking in his eased stride and the way he always keeps at least one hand on his swords, you glance out towards the sea of boats. “He enjoyed making people's lives miserable.”
There’s a beat of silence before; “yours especially, it seems.”
You turn to him in shock, eyes widening at him. He’s no longer looking at you, head turned straight, but the expression on his face says it all.
“I guess,” you mumble, hugging your arm tighter.
Silence envelopes the both of you, all whilst Nami continues to lead to way completely oblivious to the tension that has surrounded the two of you. You’re careful to not glance Zoro’s way, even though you desperately want to.
Your mind races with wonder of what exactly he meant.
Luckily, you don’t have to stew in your thoughts for too long. A few minutes later the three of you hear the distinctive and familiar voice of Luffy, and with one glance at each other, you’re picking up the pace.
When you find Luffy, he’s standing at the front of a ship, grinning ear to ear.
“There you are,” Nami calls.
“Guys!” Luffy cheers, moving to make his way down to the three of you. “I found it,” he declares. “I found our ship.”
Turning your attention to said ship, you silently muse to yourself it’s not a bad choice. Luffy seemed to make rash decisions but he always followed his gut and you can’t say that this ship was a result of a bad decision. It was a decent size, not too big that it’d be unmanageable with four crew members but not small like the previous one. It had a certain charm to it as well.
“And this guy will sell it to us!”
You turn in the direction of Luffy’s gesture, noticing the man slumped over the edge of the ship that you hadn’t realized before.
Standing up, he turns to make his way down to Luffy as well, eyes wide as he stammers; “uh, w-wait, what…?”
“Yeah!” Luffy nods, oblivious. “The ship, we’ll take it.”
The man winces; “technically, she’s not for sale.”
“Huh?”
“And technically,” he continues, “I’m not a salesman.”
“Do you even work here?”
“Of course I do.”
“Okay,” you nod, smiling warmly. “What do you do then?”
He meets your eyes, “I’m Chief Technician in charge of encrustation removal and aviary waste eradication.”
Luffy’s face twists; “encru what?”
Zoro huffs next to you. “He scrubs barnacles and cleans bird shit.”
“He can’t help us,” Nami adds.
The two of them turn to leave.
“Wait! Wait! Wait!” The boy frantically calls, shaking his hands at you. “I can help you. The owner of this ship just happens to be my closest friend in the world.”
Nami seems unconvinced. “Your friend owns this ship?”
“Not just this one,” he grins. “She owns the whole shipyard. She’s rich rich.”
Luffy gasps; “oh!”
“I’m sure you could strike a deal with her.”
-
So it turns out Usopp, you learned his name was, was not lying about his friend owning the whole shipyard. It did, however, seem he was lying about how invited he truly was in his friends house—mansion.
Kaya herself didn’t seem to have any issue with Usopp, but her butler had a stick up his ass about him and that included the four of you. 
If it hadn’t been for Kaya insistence that it was her birthday, you’re sure all five of you would’ve been promptly kicked off her estate and back to square one. Somehow, that didn’t happen and now you’d found yourselves invited to dinner.
Currently, you were eyeing the room you’d been given for the night with a sheen of excitement. You’d never been in a house, let alone a room this nice before. It was a major upgrade compared to the small, dingy tent Buggy had let you stay in. The bed itself was almost the entire size of what your tent had been.
It’s astonishing enough to you that you lose track of time. After spending far too long just exploring the room—because it was big enough to explore—you went to have a shower. It had been far too long since you’d been given the opportunity to bathe yourself, and you definitely weren’t about to pass it up. 
You definitely spent far too long showering, letting the water soak into your skin and taking your time scrubbing the filth off your body.
By the time you’re finished, the bathroom is thoroughly fogged and you’re feeling refreshed.
It’s only then you remember you still have to find something to wear. Klahadore, the butler, had made it clear the clothes you all were wearing were not nearly good enough to eat dinner in—whatever that meant.
Leaving your room, you pause in the hall, glancing both ways as you try to remember what direction Klahadore had told you the clothes were in. He’d been rather gruff about it, barely able to hide the contempt in his gaze and you’d been too busy trying to ignore the discomfort to really listen to what he’d been saying.
You’re left wandering for about ten minutes before you see Nami slipping out of a room.
“I’m so happy to see you,” you breathe, grabbing her arm as she turns to you. She seems slightly unsure of your touch but she doesn’t pull away. “I’m sure I would’ve been lost for hours before I found my way. You look amazing, by the way.”
She really did. The red piece she had on was truly beautiful and it looked stunning on her.
Snorting faintly, she smiles softly. “Thanks,” she nods. “There’s a ton of outfits to choose from in there. The boys are in there too, but be careful, they’re hopeless.”
You let out a chuckle, “they weren’t any help?”
“Those two?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m pretty sure neither of them even know what a compliment is.”
Biting your lip, you pull back, letting her go. “Well, I’m gonna give it my best. Hopefully I can find something.”
Perhaps sensing a bit of nerves from you, Nami hesitates before leaving. “You’ll look good in anything, I’m sure.” She reassures, offering a gentle smile. “There’s lots of options and we might not get the chance to dress up like this again. Go crazy.”
You’re instantly eased by her words and sending her a warm smile and a nod, you turn towards the door, letting her head back to her room.
You’re instantly greeted by both Zoro and Luffy the second you slip inside, the two boys turning to face you as you smile at them gently in greeting.
“Woah,” you breathe, letting your eyes flicker across the room. “That is a lot of clothes.” You hadn’t thought Nami was lying, you just hadn’t expected this much. 
Zoro snorts as Luffy nods; “right? What would a person even need with it all?”
You let out a laugh, letting your hands drag across a rack of them, not even sure where to begin. 
“Well, I’m gonna go with this,” Luffy calls and you turn back to him, eyeing the waistcoat he’s holding in his hands. You pause when you realize he’s only holding a waistcoat.
“Uh, Luffy—”
“See ya!”
He’s out the door in the next second, leaving you gaping in the direction he’d gone.
A moment later, you turn to Zoro; “he’s aware you’re typically supposed to wear a shirt under a waistcoat, right?”
Zoro shrugs, chuckling. “Probably not.”
You let out a laugh in response before turning back to the clothes, suddenly realizing you’re alone with Zoro. You’re still unsure about the conversation the two of you had had back at the shipyard so it’s hard to ignore the slight uncertainty you feel at being in the room alone with him.
That and the fact that he makes you nervous in general.
“Did you, um,” swallowing thickly, you meet his eyes. “Did you find something to wear?”
He holds up the shirt that had been on his lap. It’s a dark bronze button up, with what looks like silk material. It��s beautiful, and you can’t help the thought that pops into your head that it’ll look extra beautiful on him. “Nami found something.”
“Ah,” you nod, “it’s a nice shirt.” You smile at him, before pausing by the folding screen at the back end of the room. “I guess I should hurry and find something, huh? I took too long showering,” you chuckle nervously to yourself. “It felt so good, I couldn’t convince myself to get out.”
Laugh fading out, you swallow thickly when you realize Zoro is just staring at you.
“Did you need help finding something?” He asks after an agonizing moment of quiet.
You turn to him in surprise. “Huh?”
“A… dress or something,” he gestures loosely to the clothes, now looking slightly uncomfortable. “Did you need help finding something?”
You stare at him, stunned. You for a moment think you’ve imagined Zoro’s offer. Maybe you were still in your room, or maybe you were still stuck with Buggy and this was one big hallucination.
You choose to ignore why Zoro would be a part of your hallucination.
“I thought you didn’t like getting involved?” You offer him.
Zoro smirks, the edges of his lips tilting upwards. “Only when I don’t want to.”
It’s hard to fight the blush that spreads across your cheeks at his words or ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You’d be stupid to say you didn’t notice that Zoro was a rather… attractive man, but you’d pointedly ignored those thoughts in favour of focusing on more important things. But when he smirked at you like that and offered to help you… find something to wear, of all things, it was hard to ignore them.
Turning away so he can’t see your flush, you swallow thickly. “S-Sure,” you mumble, before shifting the conversation to save you some face. “But Nami warned me you and Luffy were practically hopeless.”
Zoro huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m certainly more helpful than that idiot.”
Grinning, you bite your lip, turning back to him. 
Zoro frowns at your grin. “I know fashion.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t,” you laugh, holding your hands up in defence.
Scoffing, Zoro stands up, leaving the shirt Nami had picked for him over the arm of the chair as he crosses the distance of the room over to you. You freeze as he grows close, trying to ignore the race of your heart as he stops behind you, chest inches from your back, and reaches past you to grab a dress off one of the higher racks.
You watch as he pulls it down, trying to ignore the bulge of his bicep as he does.
The dress he picks is light beige in colour, floor length with one shoulder strap. The strap of the dress has an extra piece of fabric that billows out around it. It’s a simple silk material, but the hem of the dress is decorated in a darker, bronze lace trim.
It’s beautiful. 
You’ve certainly never worn a dress so beautiful.
“Here,” Zoro calls, handing the dress to you. “This one. It’ll look nice with...” he gestures loosely to your eye, as if unsure how to say it.
You blink up at him, warmed at his words and how he hadn’t just chosen the dress at random like it seemed he had. Had he seen the dress when Nami had been looking and thought of you? That thought made your heart race.
“Try it on.”
Wordlessly, you take the dress from his hands, meeting his eyes one last time before turning to step behind the folding screen. You hear footsteps grow distant so you figure Zoro went back to the chair, and with only a second more of glancing at the beautiful dress, you move to slip off your clothes. Once you’ve slipped the dress on, it takes you a second or two to fully zip it up, unused to the movement.
The second it’s fully on, you glance down at yourself, letting your fingers run down the length of the dress, marveling at how soft the material is.
“You done?”
Jumping at Zoro’s voice, you cough faintly, swallowing thickly. “Y-Yeah.”
“Let me see.”
Blunt as usual, Zoro leaves no room for argument, so, with a nervous dip of your stomach, you force your legs to carry you out from behind the folding screen. You hesitate to meet his gaze, feeling nervous and unsure in a completely different way at the way Zoro’s eyes drag across your figure.
You’ve never worn a dress before, period. And certainly not one as pretty as this. Nami wasn’t lying when the clothes Buggy had made you wear were ridiculous. Corny and too colorful, Buggy had adorned you in clothes that made you look closer to a doll than an actual human being. It had been objectifying and humiliating.
And even though this was still a form of dressing up and even though you’re nervous, you can’t deny you feel beautiful.
Truly beautiful. 
“What… What do you think?” You ask, finally meeting Zoro’s gaze as you tip your chin up.
There’s the briefest of seconds where his lips are left parted and an expression you’ve never seen washes over his eyes. Your stomach twists painfully, thinking that reaction was one of distaste, but before you can say anything, he’s coughing out a response;
“It’s… good.” The words seem forced, but not in a way that he’s lying but rather that he’s unsure of how they sound on his own lips. “You look… pretty.”
The blush returns. Ten-fold this time. Your whole body grows hot in response, nerves feeling like they’re on fire, as you stand there. You’re frozen still, for some reason scared to move.
“Oh,” you finally manage. “Thank you.”
He stands. It seems like an unconscious decision. “You’re welcome.”
Silence follows.
“You think this is the one?” You ask, before turning to the rest of the clothes. “Or should I—”
“No,” Zoro cuts in, sharp, before righting himself as he coughs, again, trying to play it off. “I mean, no, I think that’s a good choice.”
Believing it, you nod; “okay.”
Zoro glances at you, before glancing down. “I should get ready.”
“Oh,” you blink, “yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Standing there, opposite ends of the room, the two of you don’t move for a minute more. Then, Zoro finally turns.
“I’ll see you at dinner.”
“You too,” you whisper, watching his back disappear out the door.
You catch sight of the dress shirt Nami had found for him, and try not to let out a gasp when you realize the lace trimming of your dresses matches perfectly with his shirt.
-
Letting your eyes drift across the array of dinner food set out in front of you, you try not to let your obvious desire show. It was hard to deny how good everything smelled, though, and the want to just dig in and stuff your face like Luffy currently was was more than tempting.
But you wouldn’t let yourself look so silly. Not only was this a fancy dinner, you were wearing the nicest dress you ever had and surely ever will. You had no intention of soiling that opportunity by being anything less than ladylike.
Sat in between Zoro and Usopp, you tentatively glance around to see if anyone else has started grabbing food.
Luffy was the only one actively stuffing his face full. Usopp and Nami had grabbed food, but the latter was taking it much slower and Zoro… 
Well, Zoro didn’t really seem interested in eating at all. He’d grabbed the bottle of wine on the table the second he’d seen it and after managing to chug through the entire bottle in a few mere minutes, he was already asking for another.
Deciding to just bite the bullet and ignoring the nerves of reaching for food, you grab a little bit of everything that catches your attention. There’s so much placed on the table you’ve no hope of ever being able to try it all, even though that’s what your heart desires. You settle for starting with what looks most appetizing and leaving the rest for if your stomach has the room for it.
Smiling to yourself, it takes you a moment before you realize there’s a set of eyes on you.
You instantly glance to your left, in the direction of Zoro, blinking when you find his eyes already on you. He has the glass of wine he’d poured for himself pressed against his lips, angled back to be able to watch you more easily.
He seems to freeze at being caught and you quickly divert your attention back to your now full plate before either of you can say anything. You’re hyper-aware of yourself in that moment, especially the dress you're wearing.
“I’d love to try the fish tonight.”
Looking up from your plate, you glance to the head of the table, watching as Kaya turns to the maid with a gentle smile and flutter of excitement.
“I’m sorry, Miss Kaya,” Klahadore cuts in before the maid can respond, stepping towards the girl. “But that is not possible.”
Kaya’s face falls. “Maybe just a small piece?”
“Now,” Klahadore sighs, as if exasperated by her simple request. “You know that certain foods can affect your constitution. Here, Buchi has prepared your special soup.”
At his invitation, Buchi steps forward, taking the bowl off his tray and setting it in front of Kaya.
You almost immediately blanch at the sight.
Whatever that was, it didn’t look anything like soup.
“Kaya,” Nami calls, “it’s your birthday. You should be able to eat what you want.”
You instantly nod. “And certainly something more special than… that.”
“Miss Kaya’s medical condition necessitates that I closely monitor her dietary needs,” Klahadore explains.
You meet Nami’s gaze from across the table.
“Does it mean you also speak for her?” Nami challenges, glaring at the man.
Blinking, Klahadore tilts his head, the action oddly threatening.
“I’ll take her fish!”
Leave it to Luffy to miss the entire point of the conversation.
Pressing a hand to your forehead, you shake your head.
“Luffy,” Usopp says, and you silently thank him for diverting the tension. “Isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to Kaya about?”
“Oh, yes!” Luffy exclaims, pointing at Usopp in recognition. He turns to Kaya, grinning. “Usopp told me you own the whole shipyard.”
“Well, actually my parents founded the shipyard, and Merry’s been running the business since…” Her voice trails off momentarily, eyes falling to her lap. “Well, since they passed.”
Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with the napkin on your lap.
“But all of that’s about to change,” Kaya continues, pulling your eyes back on her. “Tonight, at midnight, I will become the sole owner.” Her eyes naturally drift towards Usopp and the two share a soft smile between one another.
You grin at the interaction.
“Ah,” Luffy nods. “Well, that’s great, because we want to buy a ship from you.”
Kaya’s face eases in understanding. “I see. Usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.”
“Nope. Not sailors.” Raising his glass, Luffy smiles. “We’re pirates.”
You freeze at that, pointedly ignoring the way Usopp chokes on his own drink. Your gaze falls to Luffy, as if in doubt that he’d actually just said that. By the proud grin on his face, you’d say he in fact did.
Bringing his glass to his lips, you hear Zoro mumble under his breath; “this ought to be good.”
Kaya falters. “Pirates?”
Luffy nods; “yup! We haven’t sailed together for long, but we have already defeated an evil clown,” you shift at that, “raided a Marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe for a hand.”
Biting your lip, you sink into your chair, pressing a hand to your eye patch. Maybe you’d blend in with the chair and disappear from sight.
“These sound a lot like your adventures, Usopp,” Kaya turns to her friend.
Usopp lets out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.”
“Oh yeah!” Luffy cheers, and before you even realize it he’s standing to his feet, taking the glass in his hands and climbing up on the table. “And we’re just getting started.”
“Oh my God… Luffy!” You whisper, trying to meet his eyes so he’ll get down.
“What are you doing?” Klahadore bellows, astonished. “Get down from there at once!”
Luffy ignores you and the butler. “Being a pirate has been my dream for as long as I can remember. And I’m finally making it a reality.” Ever oblivious to the reactions of everyone else there, Luffy shifts to take a knee towards Kaya. “We’re heading out to the Grand Line, where even more adventures await us.” He moves to stand up straight again, making his way down the length of the table towards Kaya. “And at the end of the journey, I’m gonna find the ultimate treasure, the One Piece, and become King of the Pirates.”
Head tilting back to meet his gaze, Kaya’s lips part; “you’re… serious?”
Handing the glass he’d been holding to Klahadore, who accepts it with a barely concealed growl, Luffy crouches in front of Kaya, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Kaya, you have a beautiful ship out there. A caravel with a sheep figurehead. It spoke to me. That’s the ship we need to follow our dreams. I promise you, we’ll take care of it. Maintain it. Treat it like any other member of our crew, because a ship is also a home.”
Silence follows, no one says anything for the briefest of seconds. You focus your attention on your lap, fiddling with your fingers, wishing Luffy would get down from the table.
But before Kaya or really anyone could say anything, Klahadore’s voice booms; 
“That will be quite enough! I should’ve known Usopp would bring riffraff to our doorstep.”
Kaya shakes her head; “Klahadore, it’s okay. I—” A violent cough pulls from her lips. It starts to wrack her body, cutting off what she’d been about to say as she hunches in on herself in response.
You sit up, leaning towards her. “Are you okay?” You ask, not sure if you should get up and help.
Klahadore steps forward before you can, pointedly glaring at you before shifting his gaze to Luffy. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve upset Miss Kaya. All of you, out of this house at once!”
“No,” Kaya rasps. “It’s late. Let them stay the night.”
-
After the disaster that was dinner, you’d elected to stay in your room for the night.
You’re almost positive that the rest of your friends wouldn’t be able to rest or stay still for that matter. Even though you’d only been with them for a short while, it was easy to tell that an opportunity like this wouldn’t allow any of them to simply stay in for the night and sleep. Luffy was probably looking for more food, given that dinner had been cut short. Nami was definitely exploring the mansion, whilst grabbing whatever shiny trinket caught her attention. And Zoro? He was probably looking for more booze. You’ve very quickly come to learn that the man enjoyed his alcohol, and needed it in most instances.
You, however, were exhausted. A lot of things in your life had so rapidly changed and being out on sea, cramped in a small ship hadn’t left you a lot of opportunities to rest. The bed you’d been given for the night seemed far too tempting to ignore, especially knowing you probably wouldn’t get a chance like this one again.
So, changing out of the dress you’d borrowed from Kaya, feeling slightly disappointed you hadn’t gotten the chance to wear it for longer, you changed back into the clothes you’d borrowed from Nami and lay down on the bed.
You instantly sink into the cushion that is your mattress for tonight, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you feel your tense muscle instantly ease.
However, you learn quickly it isn’t so easy to fall asleep. Even on a large and soft bed, you were now struggling with the actual act of falling asleep. You couldn’t completely relax. For a multitude of reasons. Even though you were free of him, you’d only escaped Buggy a short while ago. The scars of what he’d done to you were still heavily prevalent and you doubted they’d go away anytime soon. Every time you close your eyes, you can see those gleaming eyes and hear his laugh echo in your mind.
You can feel the scars that cover your body from his abuse.
Beyond that, you can’t get rid of the uneasy feeling you felt about Klahadore. It was obvious the man was more than just a nasty butler. He’d been extremely controlling over Kaya all night, starting with not letting her eat anything other than that soup (which definitely wasn’t meant to be consumed) and the presence of Usopp and you and your friends seemed to particularly annoy him. It was obvious he was hiding something, you just weren’t sure what.
An hour or so must pass of you lost in your thoughts without getting any closer to actually falling asleep. You’re just about to give up in frustration, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes with a groan of frustration, when a large bang startles you. It’s instantly followed by a mechanical whirring noise. You jump up, gaze snapping around for the source of the noise. You frown when you realize the noise is coming from the large window in your room. There was a shutter coming down, blocking out the nightlight and effectively trapping any escape through it.
The lights in your room, despite having been turned off for you to sleep, were now flickering on and off.
Swallowing thickly, you crawl out of bed, moving towards the window. Your hands tentatively reach out for the window only to realize the shutter is on the other side of the glass pane. It was clearly intended to block people out, but also lock people inside.
“What the…” 
Turning around, your eyes fall on your door, rushing towards it and letting out a soft breath of relief when you realize that it is still open.
The windows in the hall are no different than the one in your room. You also notice that the lights are flickering on and off in the whole house, making the large mansion seem entirely eerie in a different way.
Heart racing, your unease from before triples into terror as you begin moving down the hall. Your hope is to find one window or door that isn’t being barricaded, to try and escape. That doesn’t happen. Every window is blocked out by the metal shutters. Someone was putting the house on lockdown.
You fear you already know who that someone was.
Picking up the speed of your step, you turn down the hallway, glancing back the way you’d come in fear there was someone following you. Only, that causes you to crash right into another body. You let out a startled scream, fighting the hands that fall on your shoulders, thinking you’ve run into Klahadore himself.
“Y/N! Y/N, it’s me!”
Blinking, you turn, focusing your gaze in front of you and easing when you seem a familiar head of orange hair.
“Nami,” you breathe, relieved. Reaching for her, you grab her arms. “I’m so happy to see you. Where’s Zoro? Luffy? Do you know what’s going on? Why is the house in lockdown?”
She just shakes her head at you, eyes flipping around, seeming rushed. “I can’t answer all those questions right now,” she huffs, shuffling back as she tugs you along, fingers wrapping around your wrist. “There’s no time. Kaya’s in danger!”
She turns to race back down the way you’d just come from. You let her pull you, rushing to match her pace as you shake your head in confusion.
“Kaya’s in danger?” You echo, “Nami, what’s happening?”
Glancing at you over her shoulder, never slowing her pace, Nami frowns. “It’s the butler, Klahadore. Him and that maid and chef are going to kill Kaya! They’re pirates and they want the shipyard! They’ve been poisoning Kaya this entire time…”
Eyes widening, you quicken your pace so you’re next to her rather than beyond. Briefly, Nami glances at you once more, and you just nod at her. You’re shocked and you’re dying to ask more questions; like how she knows or where the rest of your friends are. But you know time is of the essence right now and you don’t need to know all those to believe her. “Lead the way,” you assure. “You know where Kaya’s room is?”
Blinking at you, Nami only pauses for a second. “Y-Yeah,” she answers. “It’s just down the hall.”
A few minutes later the both of you are stopping in front of a set of double doors. You let Nami take the lead, chancing a nervous glance behind you in fear that Klahadore will come around the corner any second. It takes Nami a few seconds before she manages to get the door open, and the second she does, you both rush in.
Her shoulders ease when she sees Kaya, Usopp behind her. “Thank God you’re alive.”
Kaya hovers by the table she’d been sitting at, frowning. 
“Why wouldn’t we be alive?”
-
“Poison?” Kaya echos, breathless. “What are you talking about?”
Shuffling near the door, you glance between it and Kaya and Nami.
“I overheard them in the kitchen,” Nami explains. “It’s been going on for years.”
Kaya hesitates, fiddling her hands in front of her as she glances over at Usopp. “Did Usopp put you up to this?”
“I didn’t even know,” Usopp instantly denies. He doesn’t look angered by Kaya’s accusation, if anything, he looks more upset than she does. His face is distraught, eyes flickering across the tea set Kaya has on the table. “I gave you that tea.”
“Think about it, Kaya. When did you start getting sick? Was it around the time Kuro started working here?”
By the expression on her face, the answer is obvious.
“Listen to me,” Nami urges, grabbing her hands and pulling her focus back on her. “If we stay here, we die. We have to leave now.”
“Easier said than done,” you breathe. “Everything is locked down. And if Klaha—Kuro is after you, he’s probably already on his way here.” Shaking your head, you turn to look at them. “Where are we gonna go?”
Meeting your eyes, Kaya lets out a shaky breath.
-
You freeze when Kaya starts coughing, your entire body tensing.
Almost instantly, five blades slice through the wall of the mansion, missing Kaya and Usopp by an inch as the two of them fly back. You stumble back in response, trying to make room in the narrow servants corridors. But then, Kuro is pulling his blades back before slicing them back in in a different spot, this time right by Nami.
Just as Usopp turns to rush forward, Kuro’s blades stop him.
“It’s your birthday,” Kuro growls from the other side of the wall. “It’s time to celebrate.”
He slices his blades through again, this time both, one of each side of Kaya, the ones on her left nicking her on her arm.
Heart falling at the small cry that leaves her lips and processing just how dire of a situation you’re all in, the thought that pops up in your mind seems like the best option. You say it before you even realize what you’re saying. “Go,” you hiss, quietly enough that Kuro can’t hear you but the three of them can. Their eyes instantly fall on you. “I’ll distract him.”
Eyes widening, Nami shakes her head. “What? Y/N, no!” She turns to face you.
You jump as he sends his blades through once again, this time narrowly missing you, Nami stumbling back in response to avoid them as well.
“We’ve no choice,” you argue, “he’s going to kill Kaya!”
“Y/N—”
You don’t let Usopp finish, ignoring the look in Nami’s eyes as you step back.
“Stay here until I’m gone,” you whisper, meeting each of their gazes before nodding.
Then, with one last breath in, you pick up your pace, deliberating making your footsteps loud as to entice Kuro. You force a cough from your throat, hoping the barrier of the wall muffles the fact that your voice sounds different from Kaya's. As you run, you hear footsteps following you, and the distinctive voice of Kuro laughing;
“Come on then, Kaya! Don’t keep me waiting!”
With no plan in mind, you continue running, going back the way you’d just come and hope that Kuro continues to fall for the bait. You hope he’ll just assume Kaya got scared and went running back to her room.
Breathless, you continue to make your footsteps loud, forcing a cough every now and then, trying to buy as much time for Kaya and the others as you can.
Making your way back to the entrance you’d gone through in Kaya’s room, your eye flickers across her entire room, trying to find something to help yourself. You couldn’t fight to start with, but something was better than standing there helplessly. Grabbing one of the chairs around her tea table, you make your way towards the door. You definitely didn’t want to be trapped in her room with Kuro.
The second you step out of the room, you see Kuro in the hall, a few feet away from you.
You freeze and his eyes widen when he realizes it’s you and not Kaya. For a second, you both just stand there, waiting, and you watch as anger blazes in his eyes, mouth setting into a thin line. You fear he’ll go back in the direction of Kaya and the rest, so, stepping forward, you take the chair you’d grab and throw it at him. It doesn’t even reach him, crashing into the ground before his feet as his eyes lower to eye it, before falling back on you.
Then, you run. You turn to the right, racing down the hall opposite of him, making yourself move as fast as you possibly can. Maybe you could find Zoro, he’d know what to do. Nami had explained Luffy had been poisoned, but maybe if you could find him, you’d at least be able to help him. He’d defeated Buggy after all, so maybe he’d…. Shaking your head from that though, you remind yourself he’d been poisoned. Finding him would probably only put him in more danger.
Maybe you could find the switch that was keeping this place in lockdown. If you flipped it back, that’d help Kaya and the rest and give you an opportunity to escape.
You turn down a series of hallways all whilst hearing the thunderous steps of Kuro behind you. You’re happy he’s following you and taking the bait, but now that you’ve done it, you’re not exactly sure what your plan is. He curses at you, threatening he’ll do worse to you if you don’t stop. The threats make your heart race and your throat clam up with fear.
You never stop running though.
At least, until there’s nowhere else to run. As you make a turn, you realize you’ve made your way to the main foyer. 
Your eyes instantly fall on the maid and chef. 
Their eyes instantly zone in on you, gleaming with interest and smiling as your eyes widen at the sight of them.
“Fuck,” you breathe.
Just then, Kuro catches up to you, stopping right behind you.
You’re thoroughly trapped, pinned on either side by Kuro and his crew, and the only exit was currently locked down.
“Got nowhere to run now, have you?” Kuro laughs, voice thick with desire to kill. You inhale sharply, stumbling back as he steps towards you. As you make your way down the small set of stairs, you’re quickly reminded of Kuro’s crew as you hear them laugh mockingly behind you. A quick glance behind you tells you they're right behind you, so you freeze in the spot.
What the hell were you supposed to do now?
Cornered, you try to look for an escape, but there isn’t one. You already didn’t have a hope of fighting off Kuro, and you definitely didn’t have a hope of fighting all three of them. Your only weapon had been that chair, which was now broken and hadn’t even hit Kuro.
“Annoying,” Kuro hisses, glaring down at you. “Playing the hero and leading me away from Kaya.”
Shoulders tensing, you stare up at him.
His hand swings out before you can dodge it, slicing across your face in a way that pulls a scream from your lips. It hits directly on your right cheek, slicing across the strap of your eyepatch and into your skin. Blood beads across the four slices as your eyepatch falls to the ground. You watch it hit the ground in despair, shredded by his blades. Biting back the sob that wants to fall from your lips, you clutch at your cheek, turning back to look at Kuro.
He grins at you. With your right eye now visible, there’s a particularly cruel gleam that floods his eyes. “Well, look at that.”
Embarrassment brews in your chest, wanting to turn your face away and hide. The sting of your cheek is painful, and you can’t help the tremble of your body. You’re all too easily reminded of your helplessness. You’d told Luffy you were a lousy fighter and when he’d brushed it off with no concern, that’d given you the hope that maybe it wasn’t so bad. You were naive to think having no fighting skills wouldn’t catch up to you when dealing with pirates and even more of a fool to think that your brave plan to help Nami, Usopp and Kaya wouldn’t end in your death.
You didn’t regret doing what you had. You hope that by leading Kuro away, they’d already found an escape route. But you didn’t want to die either. You’d just escaped from Buggy too, and now you were going to die at the hands of another sick pirate crew.
“Such a shame too,” he mocks, “you were so pretty.”
Biting your lip, you swallow thickly.
“Finish her off for me and we’ll hide her body with the green-haired swordsman after I’ve finished with Kaya.”
Your heart starts at the mention of Zoro, terror flooding you at the thought that he might be hurt, or worse, dead.
“Zoro?” You breathe, voice pitching. Turning to Kuro, you shake your head. “What did you do to him?”
Kuro snorts, “he’s dead. Along with your captain, and your friends, as well as Kaya, will follow suit soon.” He grins, ear to ear, as his crew laughs behind him. “Try not to worry then, dear. You’ll be reunited with them all soon enough.”
Kuro turns to leave then, not sparing you another glance, leaving his crew to kill you off for him.
-
“Y/N. Y/N!”
Feeling hands grab at you, your limp body is spun and pulled into a chest as you slowly blink open your eyes. Everything hurts, your entire body is stinging to the point that even the slightest movement has you crying out in pain.
“Y/N!”
You recognize that voice. Forcing your vision to clear in your left eye, you ease when you see a familiar head of green hair. The relief that floods you is immediate, allowing you to ignore your own discomfort.
“Zoro,” you rasp, voice cracking with strain. “You’re alive.”
Zoro frowns down at you. “What the hell happened?” Shifting, his left hand falls on your waist, pressing against the nasty cut you were currently bleeding out from. His eyes fall on the wound and he huffs. “Shit. You’re losing too much blood.”
Setting you gently back on the ground, Zoro leans back, grabbing the hem of his shirt and ripping a strip of it off. You watch him with your good eye, bleary and dazed, body limp in his grasp as he tugs you up, slipping the strip under you so he can tie it around your waist, applying pressure to your cut.
Using all your strength, you raise your arm, gripping onto his arm. “Kuro,” you gasp, voice pitching. “The butler, he—”
Zoro shakes his head. “I know, Y/N. Fuck, did you really try to fight him?”
You laugh at that, weakly. “I’m a lousy fighter.” When Zoro doesn’t laugh with you, you sigh, letting your head fall back. “He was after Kaya… I distracted him to give them time.”
Zoro just blinks down at you, stunned, taking in the cuts across your cheek, and the bleeding wound in your stomach, his chest flooding with rage.
“We need to get you out here,” Zoro says, moving to pick you up. “We need to get you help.”
You just shake your head, pushing against his arm. “Kaya, Usopp and Nami… They… They need help.”
“Luffy’s got it,” Zoro says, trying to grab you.
You push harder. “Those two—the ma-maid and chef… they’re still—”
“Here?” A new voice cuts in, both you and Zoro glancing towards the front door only to see both of them there. Despite their ridiculous get up, your heart races with fear.
Something shifts in Zoro’s gaze. It’s an expression you’ve never seen. His eyes darken as his lips straighten, and he’s gently pulling back from you, making sure you’re settled on the ground, as he stands, pulling out the two black handled katanas.
“Just hang on, Y/N,” he whispers down at you, meeting your eyes from above as you glance up at him. You’re surprised by the burning rage in his gaze and it’s not at all directed at you. “I’ll kill them and then we’ll get you somewhere safe.”
Too tired to realize how those words would’ve made you feel normally, you nod weakly, letting your head fall back, knowing that Zoro will keep his word.
-
Zoro had been deliberate about keeping the fight away from you.
Having tucked you into the corner, you could only really hear the sounds of his fight. You wanted to get up and help, but you knew even without your injuries, you wouldn’t be able to do anything. And as you hear the sounds of metal clanging against metal, you make a mental note to actually take those lessons from Zoro up. You were learning and had learned far too quickly that having not even a bit of self-defence skill was not possible if you were going to be on Luffy’s crew.
It takes Zoro an impressively little amount of time to defeat Kuro’s crew. You can hear the waning sounds of fighting as you force yourself to turn, ignoring the ache that burns through your entire body. Your left eye shows you he’s in the midst of tying the two up, both of them growling in frustration and fighting weakly in protest. 
Unaware of the way Zoro’s gaze falls on you, you press your hand to the ground, using it as leverage to push yourself up to your feet. Your teeth grind against one another as you lift yourself up, managing to shift your feet underneath you before a sharp shoot of pain has you crying out. Instantly, your arm gives out beneath you, and you go crashing towards the ground.
Or, at least, you would’ve, had an arm not caught your fault.
“Are you crazy?” Zoro breathes, shaking his head at you as he shifts you in his grip. “You’ve lost too much blood for you to be trying to stand up.”
Letting your hand fall on his arm, you breathe in sharply. “We… I’m worried about Kaya, Usopp and Nami,” you rasp, voice cracking at the end. “I need to check on them.”
“I told you Luffy had it, damn it,” Zoro huffs, before he shuffles, setting his left hand on your back and the other moving to hold your hand. He helps pull you to your feet, going slow to not hurt you more as his eyes flicker from the wound in your stomach to your face. You're drenched in sweat and blood, but the expression on your face is determined. “Worry about yourself.”
He says it with an expression of frustration, but he lets you lean your entire weight against him and doesn't pull away.
Meeting his eyes, you frown. “I’m worried about Luffy too.” You breathe, “and not because I don’t have faith in him but—”
“Zoro! Y/N!”
Lips parting, you glance up, eyes falling on Luffy himself as he comes racing down the stairs to your right. Behind him is Nami and then Usopp and Kaya. The smile that had been on Luffy’s lips falters at the sight of you when he sees the blood on your shirt, hesitating by the bottom of the stairs. Something shifts in his gaze, a look of anger you’ve never seen on the boy before. But before you can ponder on it for much longer, Nami pushes past him.
“Oh, my God,” Nami calls, eyes wide. “Y/N.”
She reaches you in seconds, bending to get a better look at the wound in your stomach.
You glance at her, then at Luffy, before your eyes drift past him to Usopp and Kaya. Everyone looks at you in a similar way, eyes drowning in concern.
“I’m okay,” you assure, trying to ease their worry. “It’s just a scratch.”
“She’s lying,” Zoro grunts, never letting go of you. “She needs medical attention.”
Nami shakes her head. “She probably needs stitches,” she breathes, voice pitching in panic as she pulls back your tattered shirt, getting a closer look at the wound. Turning to Zoro, she meets his gaze. “I know a little bit but not for something like this.”
“I can help,” Kaya calls out, weakly stepping away from Usopp’s arm as she smiles at you. “I know a little about stitching and cleaning a wound. Plus, it’s the least I can do. Leading Kuro away like that… I can’t ever thank you enough, Y/N.”
Smiling faintly, you brush her off; “you don’t need to thank me. You’re my friend, I wanted to help.”
Kaya looks at you astonished, but before she can respond, Nami is turning to her. “We better be quick,” she urges, looking concerned for you but also antsy. “The marines already know where we are. The longer we stay, the closer they get to catching up to us.”
Kaya nods, instantly moving towards her, just as Luffy speaks up; 
“Where are we gonna go?” He asks, seemingly snapping out of his revere as he glances at his friends. “We don’t even have a ship.”
Pausing by you, Kaya turns to him; “yes,” she smiles. “You do.”
-
“Honestly, the both of you, I’m fine.”
Glancing at each other, Nami and Zoro make it clear they don’t believe you.
Sat in between them, you huff, touching the now stitched and bandaged wound on your stomach before letting your fingers drift across your cheek. After Kaya had stitched you up and given you something for the pain, you’d all headed out immediately. The ship she’d given you was named the ‘Going Merry’ in honour of her late friend Merry and Usopp and Kaya had shared a rather sweet kiss before the former agreed to join you.
Now with a bigger ship and five members, it was starting to feel like you all were actually a pirate crew. You felt closer with all of them and sharing that fight together, even if all you’d managed to do is get hurt, felt like you’d all truly bonded.
That, however, seemed to have both Zoro and Nami acting like overbearing, worried mothers over you. You could barely take two steps without one of them telling you to rest. 
“Seriously,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not a child. I can still do things for myself.”
“You have a cut that wraps around your entire waist, Y/N,” Nami reminds, curling a brow at you as she sets down the Grand Line map. “Not to mention your face.”
You gape at her, trying to find something to argue against and coming up blank, you turn your gaze to Zoro. He’s slouched back against the edge of the bench you’re all sitting at, head turned towards the window, but the expression on his face and his returning silence tells you he feels the same as Nami.
Seriously, for two distant and rather intimidating people, they sure were overprotective.
“I promise I’m fine. And the second I’m fully healed, I’ll be roping Zoro into giving me some fighting lessons so something like this never happens again.”
That pulls Zoro’s eyes on you. “I definitely will be teaching you some moves,” he assures. “For the next time you decide to sacrifice yourself.”
He glares at you but it doesn’t amount to much and you let out a small giggle at that, cheeks warming faintly. You miss the way his gaze softens the second you do, but Nami who’s sat across from him definitely doesn’t. Zoro promptly ignores her knowing smirk.
“I think it was badass!”
Sharply reminded of his presence, all three of your eyes fall on Luffy who’s sitting at the other side of the table.
“Though,” he pauses, a smile faltering on his face. “I would rather you didn’t get covered in blood next time we fight.”
You snort at that, sending him a reassuring smile. “No worries, Captain,” you send him a thumbs up. “I’ll make sure not to worry everyone again.”
Nami rolls her eyes and Zoro scoffs, but Luffy’s face stretches into a wide smile, nodding at you.
“A shame though,” he adds a moment later, almost as an after-thought. “I did think your eyepatch was cool.”
Shoulders tensing, you’re sharply reminded of the fact that because of Kuro, your eyepatch had been sliced to shreds. You’d asked Kaya if she’d be able to stitch it back together, but she’d only frowned and said it was ruined beyond repair. You knew you could just get a new eyepatch, but you didn’t know when you’d get the opportunity to do so. Let alone if you’d even have the money to buy one.
As a result, you’d been forced to depart from Gecko Islands without it and feeling entirely too seen and vulnerable with your eyes there for everyone to see. You’d been hiding behind it for as long as you can remember and you were desperately trying to ignore the fact that you couldn’t until now.
You knew Luffy meant nothing behind it, but you couldn’t help the way you instinctively curled into yourself in response.
“Cha,” Zoro calls out, clicking his tongue, “she doesn’t need it anyways. She looks badass enough without it.”
Lips parting, your stunned eyes fall on him. He’s pointedly not looking at you, eyes focused back on the window to his right, but you notice a faint flush across his cheeks.
Nami giggles quietly to herself. “Zoro’s right,” she agrees, smiling at you when you turn to look at her. “The eyepatch just hid your face and you shouldn’t be ashamed of the way you look.”
Lips still gaping, the warmth that floods through your chest is undeniable. 
“Ah!” Luffy exclaims a second later, “you guys are right! Your eye is even more awesome than the eyepatch! Both of your eyes!”
A smile curls onto your lips, eyes falling to your lap as you let their words flood through you, basking in the kindness. No one has ever made you feel so… normal about your eye and the way it looks. Not just normal, but accepted. 
In that moment, every cruel insult that has ever been thrown your way becomes immeasurable to the words your friends say to you then.
“Guys! Check it out!”
Swallowing thickly, the moment is interrupted as Usopp comes bounding into the room, a grin plastered on his face. “Using my unparalleled artistic talent, I made us a new Jolly Roger for the ship.” Grabbing Luffy by the arm, he pulls him up to his feet, making Luffy hold the Jolly Roger as he opens it to show you all. 
It’s a skull, as expected, but… Usopp-ified. 
“Ta-da!”
Usopp chuckles in excitement, still grinning from ear to ear, as you grimace. Luffy was not going to like that.
“I know. I know,” Usopp laughs, “my flair for design often leaves people speechless.”
Folding the Jolly Roger back up, Luffy hands it back to Usopp with a forced smile.
“I already drew our flag,” Luffy explains.
“Okay,” Usopp snorts, “but this one is so much better.”
Zoro just sighs from beside you. “Neither of the flags are gonna scare anyone away.”
“Okay,” Usopp drawls, wrapping his Jolly Roger around his shoulders. “But the Jolly Roger is supposed to reflect the captain.”
Luffy doesn’t hesitate; “I am the captain. We are the Straw Hat crew—”
“—They call me Captain Usopp.”
You bite your lip, watching as the two proceed to talk over one another.
Then, Nami laughs.
It gives everyone pause, turning to her as she lets her head fall in amusement, shoulders shaking with laughter.
Everyone follows suit after that. 
Pressing your hand to your lips, your eyes crinkle in warmth and delight.
“You see?” Luffy grins, patting Usopp on the shoulders. “This is what it’s all about. From now on, it’s all gonna be smooth sailing.”
As if jinxing it, the sound of a cannon firing echoes right after his words. A second later, a thud hits the boat as the entire ship rocks, causing you to lose your balance and fall forward. You tilt, pain shooting through you as you agitate your wound.
Hands fall on you.
“You okay?” Zoro asks, eyes flickering across you.
You nod, “yeah.” You say slowly, breathless, as you glance around at the rest.
“What was that?” Usopp gasps.
Nami just sighs, moving to stand. “You had to open your mouth.”
Waiting for Zoro to stand, you follow after him, moving slower than the rest as they make their way up to the deck. Cannon continues to fire, some rocking the ship, until you all see the cause of the explosions.
“Marines!” Nami yells, “we’re under attack!”
Moving up the stairs, you nod gratefully at Zoro as he helps you up the final few steps, watching as Luffy takes the telescope to see who's attacking you.
Your eyes widen, however, when he calls out;
“Grandpa?!”
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whore-ibly-hot ¡ 1 year ago
Text
"A Servant and His King."
Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader
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18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.
(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.
Part one (not required to understand)
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A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.
A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.
Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "
"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.
"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.
"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."
He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.
"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"
Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.
"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.
"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."
You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.
As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.
Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.
"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.
"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.
The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.
"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.
Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.
The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."
You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."
Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.
"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.
"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.
"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"
"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.
To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.
"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.
"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.
"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.
"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.
"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"
Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.
"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."
Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.
Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.
You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"
"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."
As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.
"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.
"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."
Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.
"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.
Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.
"Majesty-"
"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.
Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.
"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.
"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.
Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.
"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.
"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.
Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.
He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.
"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."
"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.
"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.
His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.
"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.
"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."
You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.
"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.
"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.
Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.
Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.
"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.
As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.
"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.
"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.
Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.
"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.
"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.
"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.
Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.
"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.
"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"
"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.
"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.
Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.
"Isn't it tempting, though?"
"Perhaps."
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bbydeathclaw ¡ 2 years ago
Text
Petulance
pairing: silco x fem!reader (nsfw)
AO3
summary: Silco sends you away to try to get some work done and you decide to be a horrendous little shit about it.
tags: fluff, smut, established relationship, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), good ol' mating press, teasing, bratty reader, simp silco
word count: 5.4k
adorably aesthetic mdni banner by @cafekitsune
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a/n: hello! this is my first time writing in a looong while almost 10 years to be exact please don't look at me. but I had to get back into it with this shamelessly self indulgent fic of my favorite brooding king pin. I hope you enjoy!
Silco had thought it a bit odd at first, the ease with which you’d taken your leave from his office tonight. Ordinarily when he’d attempt to send you away in favor of getting his paperwork done in a more timely manner, you’d put up some form of sulky little protest.
An overemphasized pout coupled with a look of feigned sadness, eyebrows furrowed together when you’d offer to assist him with said work. Your reason being that it would ‘probably get done faster’ between the two of you. 
A lie, and a blatant one at that. You were, on all counts, absolutely shit at keeping your focus on any tasks he’d try to give you. You knew it. He most certainly knew it. Truly he’d wonder why you’d even bother offering at all if you just spent most of the time trying to distract him anyway. 
Still, he can’t say he isn’t amused by your actions. He finds these juvenile acts of yours terribly endearing for the most part, and even starts to look forward to them, knowing full well that he'll give in to just about anything if you’d simply ask it of him. 
Which is why he can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed when you don’t do any of this at all, and Silco starts to regret his idiotic suggestion entirely until you throw a cheeky smirk his way instead. 
“Alright, I think I’ll go bug Sevika for a bit.”
A single eyebrow quirk, followed by a low hum of approval. 
“I’m sure she’ll be positively thrilled by that,” he replies, suppressing a smirk of his own at the thought of his second in command being pestered by someone almost half her size. 
He’s still disheartened by your willingness to leave, but ultimately makes peace with it knowing that you’d more than likely return at some point. You give him a small wave with your fingers followed by a wink over your shoulder, and Silco doesn't hesitate to drag his gaze over your body shamelessly as it saunters out of his office.
About an hour passes, and the music coming from downstairs is just starting to pick up for the evening. You enter the room with a fluid sidestep, leaning back against the door once it closes behind you. His good brow raises slightly. “Back so soon?”
You don’t answer at first, instead making your way over to one of the tables in his office, like a cat quietly stalking about until something catches its interest. He watches you methodically as you settle for one of Jinx’s old trinkets that had been long discarded, carefully turning it over in your hand. “Sevika called me a menace.”
This time he makes no attempt to hide the subtle upturn from the corner of his lips. “I’m afraid I’m inclined to agree with her, my dear.”
“She seems pretty cranky tonight.” 
“Hm, surely through absolutely no fault of your own.”
You bite the inside of your cheek in what he can only assume is an attempt to stifle a giggle before turning to face him with an adorably giddy expression that makes his chest tighten. 
“Whatcha doin’?” 
So innocent, as if you were completely unaware of the effect you had on him. Silco doesn’t answer you verbally, merely bringing his forehead to rest against his hand and lifting the piece of paper he’s holding in the air with the other. The sullen face you make doesn’t go unnoticed by him as you turn to put the gadget back down with an airy sigh.
“Well,” you drag the word out. “I guess I’d better let you get back to it.”  
“Yes, that would be nice,” he says in turn, though it comes off more teasing rather than the displeasure he’s trying to convey. 
You study his face for another beat or two before you finally respond. “Okay, if that’s really what you want.” It’s not. Not even in the slightest. “I’ll go see if Thieram needs any help at the bar.”
“My love, Theiram is more than capable of handling his responsibilities as a bartender alone. It’s why I hired him, in fact.” He pauses. “Have you perhaps considered staying up here and behaving yourself, rather than looking for more ways to wreak havoc amongst my employees?” 
For a moment Silco thinks that he may be tipping his hand too soon, fearing that you’ve caught on to the fact that he’s basically been doing fuck all except sitting here and waiting for you to come back to his office. His suspicion only rises with the way you’re tilting your head and downright beaming at him with ill-disguised glee, like you’d been reading his every thought. 
“If I stayed up here it certainly wouldn’t be to behave myself.”
The paper he’s holding makes an audible crunch sound, his hand crumpling the edge of it faintly in response to your suggestive remark. 
Before he has the chance to reply with some snarky comment, you’re already heading towards the door, making a show of swaying your hips and giving him another view of the delicious swell of your backside before you take your leave again. His chair makes an audible groan as he leans back against it and lets out a lengthy sigh, running a hand through his hair and glancing down into his lap at the result of your seemingly endless torment.
Intolerable minx.
By the third time you make your way back up, only about half an hour has passed, and Silco’s all but given up on the prospects of getting any semblance of work done tonight. His thoughts being entirely permeated by you and the state you’d left him in. 
The Last Drop is in full swing now, and the liveliness of everything going on downstairs comes through the open door as you re-enter his office. However this time, he makes no effort to acknowledge your arrival, his chair now facing away from his desk, turned instead towards the large stained glass window that bathes him in a sickly, pale green light. All the noise from the club gets muffled when the door shuts once again, followed by the sound of purposeful footsteps making their way over to him.
“Welcome back,” he states flatly, trying to sound as disinterested as he can manage in his current predicament while he looks over his clipboard in a vain attempt at trying to salvage what was supposed to be a productive evening.
“Hello there, almighty Eye of Zaun,” you chime back with a playful lilt in your voice. “Did you miss me?”
Silco’s eyes tick upwards and stare blankly at the window straight ahead, actively suppressing the urge to let out another heavy sigh. You were going to be the death of him at this rate, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind. How you managed to be both so insufferable and still so unbelievably charming he’ll never quite understand. Before he has the chance to turn his chair with an already fixed scowl, he hears a faint thud behind him, the distinct sound of glass meeting wood only slightly muted by a soft shuffling of papers. 
A few seconds pass before Silco finally spins around to face you, seeing that a tumbler has been set down right on top of the paperwork he had been ruminating over all night. He’s also greeted by the sight of you already sitting in a chair directly in front of his desk, grinning from ear to ear. His heart swells at the sight and his scowl gradually melts away, only to be replaced by something more along the lines of skepticism when he takes in your expression fully. 
Your smile is accompanied by what appears to be a look of pure satisfaction, though he has no clue as to why. His non-discolored eye narrows at you, like a parent trying to figure out what misdeed their child has committed behind their back. 
Silco regards you warily for another moment, taking in every minute detail of your face in hopes of detecting something that might give you away while he reaches for the glass set in front of him. Ice clinks against the sides as he swirls it around before bringing it to his lips, taking a long sip followed by a hum of appreciation. His eyes shoot back up to meet yours, and finds you now biting your lip while trying, and failing, to suppress a huge grin. 
You’re definitely up to something, that much he’s certain of now, and the fact that he still can’t figure out what it is causes his previously feigned discontent to turn into more of a bubbling frustration, having just about enough of whatever game you’re playing. A fleeting thought crosses his mind as he glances down at the drink now dangling from his fingertips, then back up to you. 
Silco knows you’ve taken in the brief look of suspicion on his face when you let out a laugh that, despite the visible displeasure he's exuding towards you, is still one of the sweetest sounds he's ever heard.
“I didn’t poison you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you quip, clearly amused at the implication.
“At this point I would be grateful if you did.”
You laugh again, but it comes out more like a short exhale through your nose along with a relaxed grin, taking a sip of your own beverage, and Silco’s good eye narrows at you once again. 
“Are you drunk?”
“What? No.”
Silence.
“Then what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
He practically glares at you for what feels like a considerable amount of time before it finally dawns on him that you haven’t left yet. 
“Did you need something darling? Or have you just come to find more ways to elicit whatever reaction you’ve been hoping for this evening?” Silco brings the tumbler to his mouth once more, letting it hover there momentarily in order to get the rest of his words out. “Because if the intended reaction was to see how far you can test my patience I can assure you-” 
Words die on his lips immediately when you make a move to stand, mismatched eyes shooting down to your waist to see what appears to be quite possibly the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you in, leaving so very little to the imagination.
He’s still holding the glass right up to his face while he watches you make your way around the only obstacle that separates the two of you before hopping onto one of the corners, your butt and thighs jiggling faintly when they make contact with the solid piece of furniture. “I just figured you could use a drink after such a long night of hard work. Is that so wrong?”
Silco tracks your movements with an almost predatory fixation, watching you lean back slightly to rest against your arms, crossing one leg over the other and he has to actively resist the urge to scoff. This thing is hardly covering anything, you’re essentially sitting there with your bare ass on his desk. The realization of that along with the sight of everything you’re showing has his cock hardening at an alarming rate.
You don’t seem to notice, or if you do you don’t say anything, eyebrows knitting together in a poorly disguised attempt at looking genuinely worried. “What’s wrong? You don’t look very happy to see me.” 
Silco sets the glass down onto his desk with a bit more force than intended, turning his chair to face all the way forward and bringing his mouth to rest against interlocked fingers. Any moment now he’s expecting you to hop right off that corner and make your way back downstairs, back to a place filled with depraved and perverted onlookers. 
Realistically he knows no harm would ever befall you while you were down in the Last Drop. All of his subordinates had been given clear instruction to keep a watchful eye on you at all times, and after a while a lot of them had started to do it less out of obligation and more so out of genuine care, especially Jinx and Sevika. 
Plus, he knows you can hold your own in a fight. Growing up in the undercity had hardened you just enough to make you a scrappy but formidable opponent. So logically speaking, Silco knows there's no safer place for you to be, but the thought of anyone other than himself seeing you in that, especially the less than respectable patrons that frequent his establishment nearly every night, makes his blood boil.
“Of course I'm happy to see you, my dear,” he retorts, turning his head to look over at you once more, eyes darting downwards to that indecent piece of fabric wrapped around your waist then back up to meet your gaze. “It's just that I'm seeing quite a lot of you at the moment, and if you go back downstairs, so will everyone else.” His last words come out strained as he shifts in his chair in a poor attempt to alleviate his growing erection.
“Oh, you mean my skirt? Is there…something wrong with it?” You lift your hips to take the tiniest of scoots towards him, and Silco’s eyes immediately hone in on the action. 
“Don’t be cheeky.”
Another scoot. “I’m afraid that can’t be helped, especially in this.”
At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if you really are trying to kill him, taking controlled and steady breaths while he attempts to suppress his growing ire in response to such a ridiculous question. Of course there’s something wrong with it. Silco’s sure he’d nearly be able to see the soft outline of your mound if you were to spread your legs, even in the slightest.
He lets out another deep breath before picking up his pen and casually scribbling his signature on one of the invoices strewn about in front of him. “You will not be going back down there like that.”
He’s not looking at you, but Silco can see the movements of you moving closer out of the corner of his unmarred eye.
“Are you..asking me to stay?” 
He doesn’t respond, instead electing to take another piece of paper to scrawl his name at the bottom offhandedly. He knows what you’re playing at, the fact that it took him so long to realize it irks him to no end. He wouldn’t mind answering honestly and just telling you that yes, he does want you to stay, but the thought of giving into your bratty little antics this evening doesn’t sit quite right with him. 
Which is why he makes the conscious decision to ignore you as you move close enough to where your upper leg is now narrowly brushing his elbow, the shift causing him to mess up the tail end of another signature. Silco chances a glance towards the movement and regrets it almost immediately when he takes in the soft curve of your thigh, his cock twitching painfully at the sight.
He makes his second mistake when he follows the tantalizing trail of your body upwards and is met with the most unabashed, shit eating grin plastered across your face. He has to force himself to look away, the hand not holding his pen coming up to drag his long fingers back and forth across his mouth as he contemplates the idea of sending you away all together, leaving you pouty and disappointed. And for a moment he comes close to doing just that, until he makes the grave error of risking a glance up at your face again.
You’re not smiling anymore, expression replaced by something far more lustful and serious. Silco simply stares as your tongue slides out to pull your bottom lip in between your teeth before gently nudging his elbow with your knee. He doesn’t hesitate in dropping his arm to offer you the space in front of him, and you slide over gracefully. He stays perfectly still while you plant a foot atop each of the armrests of his ornate chair, knees pressed tightly together.
He finally responds to your earlier question with one of his own. 
“What would possibly give you that idea?” His voice is light and teasing, all traces of anger gone. “You’ve been nothing short of a nightmare all evening, love. And now this?” Fingertips come up to stroke the side of your calf, humming appreciatively.  “What am I going to do with you?”
This earns Silco a wide, toothy grin as you scoot forward. “Whatever do you mean? I’m just sitting here.”
“Don't be coy with me, sweetheart.” He leans forward, breath fanning over your knees as he speaks. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”
“I want you,” knees parting just barely, “to answer my question.”
Silco pushes his tongue against his cheek in minor annoyance before sliding both hands up your legs and over your knees, then back down until he reaches your hips. He grips firmly at the supple flesh and yanks you closer towards him, eliciting a sharp squeak followed by a string of giggles.
“I think you might be the most aggravating creature I’ve ever had the displeasure of courting.”
Your face adorns a look of mock appreciation. “Awe, thank you!”
Slender hands travel back up to your knees. “Truly just a tantalizing little menace.” He waits for you to part them further, granting him the access he’s so desperately craving. “One that I’m both drawn to and irritated by all at once.”
Your smile is nothing short of haughty, as if you’re truly taking everything he’s telling you as a compliment. “Well now you’ve really got me hot and bothered,” you shoot back, knees moving further away from each other until you’re spread all the way open for him.
Although spoken in a sarcastic tone, Silco sees that your words are in fact true, his eyes taking in the sight of your already dripping cunt.
“Indulge me, sweetheart,” he says, one hand coming up to trace the backs of your thighs with his knuckles, causing goosebumps to decorate your soft skin. “Why the need to be so difficult tonight?” 
You shiver at the touch, bottom lip still tucked between your teeth as he brings a thumb up to stroke lazily over your pussy. 
“J-just for fun,” you retort, but your voice doesn’t hold the same conviction. “Wanted to see..how long it would take.”
“How long what would take?”
The laugh you let out is shaky at best, but there’s still a bit of confidence left when you answer. “For you to ask me to stay.”
It only takes about half a second before Silco’s thumb pushes into your core and his tongue cards a long, hot stripe along your folds. The noise you make spurring him on further as his mouth envelopes your clit, giving it a harsh suck before pulling away with a satisfying wet plop sound.
“I don’t recall asking anything of the sort,” he chides, sliding his thumb back out. “If memory serves me correctly, you came into my office several times practically demanding my attention.”
Silco punctuates his last few words by pushing two fingers into you, pulling another sharp inhale from your lips as he turns his palm to face upward and curls them inside of you.
“Has it ever occurred to you,” he starts, bringing his thumb to circle against your now swollen clit, drawing a long whine out of you as you work your hips against him. “..that perhaps I attempt to send you away in order to finish with my tasks quickly, just so I can get back to doting on you with said attention? Selfish little creature.”
Your eyebrows pinch together, speaking between shallow breaths. “You.. could have just.. said that.. you know.”
Silco smirks, watching you look back at him with a pair of pleading eyes. “And deny myself the pleasure of seeing your lovely pouts and open displays of petulance?” He adds a third finger. “I think not.” 
“Silco,” you whine, “please.”
His cock twitches in response, and he doesn’t waste any time bringing his mouth back down to your bud and swirling his tongue around it lavishly while his fingers twist and turn inside of you. He watches you throw your head back, one of your hands snaking upwards to grip the edge of the desk above your head, the other coming to latch onto the top of his head hard as you roll your hips against him. 
“There, that’s it,” he coos, “show me how eager you are. Use me.” 
This draws another string of small gasps and moans from you, coupled with lewd, wet, slurping sounds as Silco continues to lap and suck at your clit, bringing his free hand to grip your thigh and anchor you to him. The strain in his pants grows increasingly more painful when you sigh his name affectionately, followed by a noise of protest when he removes his fingers from you all together in an effort to tug at intricate buttons of his trousers, freeing his aching cock and palming himself to the sight of your ruined state. 
Your arousal coating his fingers serves as a welcome lubricant for him to stroke himself languidly, relishing in the feeling of you bucking up into him, using him to chase your own end. His licks are hot and thorough, leaving no part of your heat untouched.
“Yes,” Silco groans into you, “just like that.”  
Your other hand comes down to unbutton your top, cupping and squeezing at one of your breasts, and he knows you’re close by the way you’re begging and pleading above him. The sound of your voice feeds into his determination, letting go of his cock in order to wrap both arms around your thighs, securing you in place and devouring you like a starved man.
The way you cry out his name while your walls flutter around his tongue has him reeling, mismatched eyes boring into you, watching your orgasm in complete reverence as your fluids run down his chin.
“Good girl,” Silco sighs, his movements slowing down to let you ride out your climax. “You always make such sweet sounds for me.” 
Your legs tremble and the vicelike grasp you have on his hair loosens before you slump back down onto his desk, words barely managing to come through your short and labored breaths.
“Could've been making them a lot earlier if you’d…stop trying to kick me out.”
A hint of a smile creeps up on his face as he presses small, feather light kisses up the backs of your thighs, leaving glistening spots of your slick behind in their wake. “You know, it is possible to keep your unsolicited remarks to yourself every once in a while.”
Yours breaks into a devious grin that tugs at his heart without mercy. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” 
“Mmm, point taken.” 
Silco stands to turn your body so that you’re taking up the full length of his desk before climbing up onto it and bracing himself with a hand on either side of your head. His length bobs thick and heavy with need, bringing it to rest against your slit.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
You roll your hips against him needily, coating his cock with your arousal. “Maybe.”
“You drive me absolutely mad,” he growls, voice dripping with carnal hunger as he pushes your legs up against your chest once again, lining himself up with your entrance. And it’s the way you're looking up at him with your lip tucked in between your teeth in anticipation, the slight inward curl of your eyebrows in an almost pleading expression that has him pushing into you in one, smooth buck forward, making you gasp as he bottoms out inside of you.
Silco sees your eyes roll back, and he has to physically stop himself from doing the same. He wants to see it all, wants to see your blissed out expression while he fucks you, wants to see all the different ways he can make you come undone beneath him.
You make a pitiful attempt at stifling a moan, one that ultimately fails when Silco starts to rock his hips against yours, pulling them back slowly and savoring the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls before driving them forward with a sharp, pointed thrust. But he’s right there with you, exhaling a throaty groan at the feeling of your walls engulfing him so deliciously, the sensation being nothing short of divine.
“Look at you, taking me so well,” he whispers, lowering his head and tilting it to place gentle kisses along your jawline before nipping at your earlobe. “Like we were made for each other.”
The breathy whine this elicits causes him to straighten himself upright again, picking up his pace steadily, and soon the room is filled with the obscene, wet smacking of skin against skin as Silco begins to pump into you with feral-like need. He readjusts your legs so that your calves are hooked over his shoulders, letting him fuck you so much deeper. 
You’re a mess of broken pleas beneath him, and he clings to every single one, a symphony meant solely for him and him alone. Silco watches you with wholly, unabashed devotion as your face twists and contorts in pleasure, pleasure that only he can bring you. And though he wants to feel like he’s still in control, he knows deep down he’s equally ruined by what you do to him, maybe even more so. His seafoam eye glazes over, and strands of hair fall loosely around his face as he ruts into you. 
You reach up and try to put your arms around his neck, but the position your legs are in only allow you to claw at his shoulders helplessly. “S-silco, please..”
“Oh? I see someone’s finally learned some manners,” he taunts.
The huff of annoyance you let out amuses him more than he’d care to admit, “For fuck’s sake, Sil. Let me hold you.”
“Demanding thing,” he scolds, but gives into your ‘request’ regardless, lowering your legs just enough so that your knees fall to the side and hook over his forearms, letting you wrap your arms around his neck with open urgency. And now you’re pulling him down and holding him there, like the waters he'd nearly drowned in.
Silco’s jaw goes slack as he turns his head and pants in your ear like some wild beast, whose sole purpose is to bring you to your end. Like it was all he was ever made for. Your head turns to meet his lips with your own, and he tries to keep some semblance of restraint while he kisses you, but he can’t, not with you. It’s hungry and sloppy, full of exceeding desperation. 
He breaks the kiss reluctantly to make his way down to your neck, lips and tongue moving against the delicate flesh and littering your throat with marks of all kinds, leaving no room for anyone to question who you belong to. “Mine,” Silco snarls possessively in between sucks and bites.
He's about to pull away when one of your hands slides up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and locking him in place, begging for more, more, more, and Silco’s more than happy to oblige. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger so tightly, and this realization both excites and ruins him as he begins to ram everything he has into you with new purpose.
“Oh fuck, Silco. Right there,” you cry out, voice becoming raspy and hoarse from your continuous gasps in between moans. 
"Yes, that's it. Show me how much you want this, how much you need this," he huffs out through gritted teeth, trying to establish some form of dominance once again, but it's no use when he realizes his words are just as applicable to him as they are to you.
He forgoes his hold on your legs, letting them fall to your sides briefly before wrapping them around his waist. Your eyes flutter shut and your head starts to loll to the side, but Silco grabs your jaw quickly and forces you to look directly at him.
“None of that, darling. I want you to look at me when you come undone,”  His breath comes out ragged and primal. “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”
You nod frantically in response, eyes drifting downward to stare at his mouth, like a silent plea. He takes the hint without delay, squishing your cheeks together until your lips form a small pout before leaning down to kiss you fervently. His tongue swirls around yours, hot and wanting, before he pulls away just enough for him to pant into your open mouth, his connecting to yours by the thinnest string of saliva. 
Silco can sense your second orgasm approaching rapidly, and he brings his fingers towards your lips. You take the hint right away, wrapping them around his digits and sucking on them lavishly. Once he’s satisfied enough, he removes them and snakes his hand down through your intertwined bodies, settling for the bundle of nerves located between your legs.
Your moans increase in pitch, arms and legs squeezing even tighter around him as he works you with skilled flicks of his wrist.
“You’ve endured this so well, my love,” he whispers against your ear, voice laced with unrestrained hedonism and resolve. “Let’s reward all that effort of yours tonight, shall we?”
His question is rhetorical, but you nod so eagerly for him nonetheless as your walls begin to pulsate, clenching so unbelievably tight around him you’re practically pushing his cock out, nearly sending him over the edge himself.  
“That’s my girl,” he sighs with heavy grit and worship. “You feel incredible.”  
Silco’s face comes back up to hover over yours, looking directly into your eyes while he fucks you through your climax, his own looming closer and closer. He leans down to kiss you, swallowing your labored breaths greedily as his thrusts begin to stagger before coming to a complete halt, his pelvis flush against yours as his cock twitches obscenely within your heat. He lets out a harsh, guttural moan right into your mouth as he spills into you, your walls continuing to milk him with stuttered squeezes, and he has to pull away sharply to exhale a series of delirious gasps. 
Your chests heave against one another, waves of pleasure slowly dissipating as your sweat soaked bodies stay interlocked. Silco shifts slightly, bringing his hands to stroke the top of your head lazily with his fingertips. His forehead comes to rest against yours as he places soft, tender kisses along your cheeks, your eyes, your lips, anything within reach.
He’s rewarded with a giggle, followed by a dopey little grin.
“You know,” you say as your breaths finally return to normal. “I just remembered the other reason you try to send me away while you work.”
Silco already knows the answer, but you punctuate your words anyway by wiggling your ass, causing the sound of his paperwork shuffling beneath you, followed by a light yelp as he smacks your bottom lightly. 
“Impossible little wench,” he chastises, lifting himself off of you and being greeted once again by the sight of the thing you keep referring to as a ‘skirt’. He grabs the edge of it with his fingertips, holding it up like it was a cursed object. “Where in Janna’s name did you even get this from?”
You bark out a laugh before propping yourself up hastily to look down at it with pride. “Ran let me borrow it.”
“Excuse me?”
“What?”
“Borrow it,” he repeats, “as in you have every intention of giving it back to them?”
You stare at him for a moment, no doubt mulling over your answer.
“...No?”
Silco smirks at your response before leaning in. “Good girl. Besides, I think we may find many more uses for it still.”
Your eyes widen with child-like wonder, but for the entirely wrong reason. “Oh, so you’ll wear it for me, too?”
He stares back at you blankly, blinking several times before rolling his eyes almost theatrically, earning him another small fit of laughter as he finally graces you with a response.
“Whatever pleases you, I suppose.” 
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nebbyy ¡ 1 year ago
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Can I request king Baldwin being jealous I just would want to see how it everything would go down 🤔🤔
King Baldwin x reader - Jealousy
A/N: uuuuh I like this concept!! I can't lie it was pretty hard imagining him being jealous, especially since I myself wouldn't even look in other men's direction have I had Baldwin next to me😩😩.
Anyway, hope you like my interpretation of your prompt :))
Painting is "A Midsummer Night's Dream - Hermian and Lysander" by John Simmons by the way :))
Warning: angst, jealousy and talks of insecurity. Reader is specifically described as being female!
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I think it's common knowledge at this point that Baldwin is a man of many virtues, who likes to act guided by reason, not by the heart
The only exception to this ironclad rule is, well, you. You're his beloved wife, the only woman who had ever walked this earth able to make him swoon and lose his collected reasoning, in the name of his love for you
In his eyes, you were the most beautiful creature God has created, and your virtues to him had to be honored and made an example to the rest of the world
He knew you really had not much choice in marrying him: after all, it was a political marriage. But the moment he saw your cheeks get warmer, your eyes avert his own and your breath hitching as he got closer to you
He couldn't fathom how he got so lucky to be worthy of even the slightest of your attention, let alone your love. It was something that he cherished like the holiest of relics, and he made sure to show it by showering you in gifts, spending every breathing moment he had as close to you as possible, learning your passions and hobbies and introducing you to his own
But as much as he loved to shower you in the affection you so much deserved, he remained a man whose mind reigned over every other part of him, and that meant that he knew that he wasn't easy to love, mainly because of his appearance
He wasn't unaware of the fact that his decayed face, his bandaged limbs, his sometimes showing wounds,.. they made people feel a sense of uneasiness, it even repulsed some at the mere sight of it
He knew that a pair of soft, full lips would be preferred by any reasonable woman over his own scarred and partly destroyed ones
He knew that a vigorous man, strong enough to fight and ride on his own, to carry you and protect you would be much preferred to his weakened, often bedridden, mangled body
And he also knew that it was the norm that in most forced weddings, infidelity was so normal that it was even romanticized by singers and poets
So as time went on and his condition worsened by the day, the dooming feeling in his mind that warned him about you possibly growing a liking to someone else started to become more and more present in his mind
Especially one time, when a dashingly handsome prince has just arrived to Jerusalem's court, and he seems that you have piqued his interest, for he seems to make it his personal mission to be as close to you as he possibly can
It's almost as if he's forgotten that you’re married to the king of the realm that is hosting him!
Baldwin first noticed a rather unusual demeanor from the prince on the first night that he's been there, when he started to make a never ending string of jokes, all in order to get a melodic laugh out of you
Then came the walk through the garden, where you usually went with your husband to unwind from your royal duties. And now there he was, this bumptious young prince that acted like he could win you over your own husband
It was right then and there that his own self deprecating tendencies left him to be replaced by a burning flame inside of him, the desire to publicly show your belonging to him and him alone
And so he took it upon himself to muster up all his strength in the following hours, before making his appearance in the main hall. Of course he knew he'd found you there, along with your suitor
Oh how his heart swelled when he saw your eyes, firstly semi-closed from the boredom the prince was causing you, light up at the sight of your husband entering the room
He confidently walked through the room until he was right in front of you, gently taking your hand in his and bringing it to his veiled mouth and holding it there for just a little longer than usual, while his celestial eyes never leaving your own
The simple action left you breathless, mostly because you'd never seen that fire within his stare before, yet in that moment he seemed to you as if he had been possessed by some sort of force that granted him such confidence
Breathing in the sight of you for just a little longer, he then turned his gaze to the prince, talking in a satisfied tone
"What a sight for sore eyes is my wife, am I right? I feel sorry for you that you can enjoy of her company for so little, but I'm afraid that she's needed somewhere else."
If you didn't know him any better, you wouldn't be able to comprehend that there's nowhere where you're needed at the moment other than your husband's arms, and you're glad to fill in the empty spot without hesitation
Because, let's be honest, you took this suitor's attentions as a tool to spur your husband, to test his devotion to you and his desire to have you all to himself. You wanted him to see you as not something gave for granted, no, he had to fight for you like the knights fighting in the name of the women they love in the jousts
And that he did, and you could swear that you have never in your short life have felt so loved and wanted as he picked you up midway through the hallway, smiling playfully at you as you lowered the veil off his face
"You're gonna make me have a run for your attentions, my dear. But I must inform you I'm not prone to sharing when it comes to my beloved wife"
You wouldn't want it to be any other way, as he gently laid you on your shared bed before joining you. And there you spend the rest of the day, after he'd called off both of your daily duties just so that he could have that time dedicated to just the two of you, to make a point of the tie between you two, that no man, much less prince, could ever break
So yes, at times Baldwin can become jealous because of his insecurities and your undeniable beauty, but his combative nature gives him the right spur to make him act on it, never letting anything get in his way
741 notes ¡ View notes
projectcrimson ¡ 6 months ago
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TRAITS THAT SHOULD BE IN WHB
—» I NEED MORE OF THE CHARACTERS TO BE BLACK SO I CAN SIMP ON MORE HOT OTOME BLACK PEOPLE. JUST ONE IS FINE, IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE THE KINGS, LIKE SIMEON FROM OBEY ME 😭😭😭
—» Minhyeok has dimples when he smiles. His eyes are obsidian and has a dark purple hue, that can be mistaken as black, in his irises. He pays attention to whatever you have to say in the room or in a conversation with someone else, the person involved would be disgusted at the way Minhyeok looks at you lol.
—» If you have any trouble with your academics or needed something during said conversation, he would give it to you the next day or help with what you have to do for school, cook you a meal, and prepare your bath. His love language are acts of service and quality time, he doesn't mind in engaging any physical contact to make you happy since it counts as quality time in his eyes. —» MC's canines are similar to and sharp as a snake while your eyes are shaped like an owl. You nibble Minhyeok when you're hungry, mostly on the hand or neck.
—» Beelzebub likes to play with your hand, comparing it to his, intertwining yours with his, massaging the fingers, tracing the lines on your palm, and kissing your knuckles with the (if you have any) callouses/scars. —» Belphegor has eye bags despite sleeping all the time. 
—» Satan has wavy hair, if it was brushed properly through his chaotic locks.
—» Satan twirls a lock of his hair when he's bored.
—» Leviathan's irises cover his eyes and turn into black when you fluster him (As reference: My In-Laws Are Obsessed With Me, S2 Ep 96). Speaking of which, on bed, you will see the blush spread from his nape, cheeks, chest, shoulders, knees, di— Everywhere, except his feet. He avoids you the next day out of embarrassment.
—» Lucifer gets clingy in the morning, only to you. When he gets flustered, especially from praises/complements, he would cling onto you with a straight face and rub his head against your neck for more complements. 
—» Lucifer's body temperature is cold as an iceberg.
—» Lucifer's eyes are sharp, similar to a dragon and his irises narrow into slits if in danger or see someone as a threat. His eyes looked much softer when he was an angel. (piercings and muscles doesn't have to be every one of the Kings body traits!!)
—» Lucifer is unaware of most innuendos and flirting (since he isn't interested), so unless you want to fuck him, you have to say it straightforwardly and blatantly.
—» Sitri rest his head on your chest to hear your heartbeat. He likes to be the smaller spoon than the big spoon.
—» NOT AN HC, THIS IS CANON Belphegor makes a sound akin to a purr when he cuddles with you, he's unaware of this fact. Except Beleth >:)
—» Asmodeus has cauliflower ears and the tip of his ears are a bit pointy and his tongue is naturally long.
—» Asmodeus pupils turn into hearts when engaging in any sexual activity or in love with someone— which is rare, even if he has intercourse with other humans.
—» Foras face has freckles on his nose bridge like Felix from Stray Kids.
—» Bael has freckles too, on his hands, shoulders, chest, and knees.
—» Gamingin's eyes are shaped like a puppy, his mouth is molded into a cupid's bow.
—» Sitri is in second place for having a fat ass and fatter thighs. (HIS PANTS ARE SUFFOCATING THAT CAKE)
—» Y'all know very well that Sitri is in the spectrum of a yandere. He keeps whatever you give him, even if it is a rock, and stores it in his room. He doesn't allow anyone to come into his office other than you and Satan.
—» He shows off the marks you set on his skin, digs his nails into your hips, has your heartbeat as his ringtone, made sure his scent clings onto your skin for two months or longer, and proud of himself in having self control for his lust of you, otherwise, he would've pounced on you every given time.
—» Beleth has curly hair but he irons and apply hair gel because he thinks it's a hassle.
—» Amon likes to play with your hair, he tugs it to see your cute expressions, twirls it, styles it, smells it, and grips it whenever you go down to suck or kiss him.
—» Adrelpheus is blind, therefore, he has to court you through words and actions. I'd like to think that he does poetry, out of boredom, at the side so he has that poetic rizz that'd make you swoon. He can also make origami.
—» Beleth likes slow, languished make out sessions and press pecks across your face before kissing your lips. If you think he's into anything crazy, he does that to his one night stands, but towards you; you're special. You don't deserve to be used quickly and tossed aside once finished, no, no, no... He loooooves to have rough but slow sex with you so he can worship your body as it should be. This is a fact, not a head cannon.
—» Beel wanted to eat you the second he saw you, because you were Solomon and if he ate you, you wouldn't leave him again.
—» Beel is a picky eater, particularly towards vegetables.
A/N: If y'all enjoyed, leave a heart, follow, and reblog. Thank you!
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hostess-of-horror ¡ 4 months ago
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Turbo/King Candy x Reader Headcanons
💕🏎️🏁A Valentine's Day Special!🍭👑💕
Note: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I hope you're all doing well and I figured this would be the perfect time to contribute some headcanons to the Tumblr bandwagon. This is also my very first time writing about Turbo/King Candy in a more fanfiction sense, so please go easy on me!
@sneklover @tiramegtoons/@sliceoflifesalami @starleska @snailstrailz @starryside-1 @depressedasswarlock @crispytubes @pippengin @simpingforcys @blackthewolf17 and anyone else who wants to read this!
Content Includes: Gender Neutral Reader, Slight Suggestiveness but SFW in general, Possessiveness (not Yandere), major spoilers for Wreck-It-Ralph
Hey! Click on each name/title for a love song! (please don't judge me, this got kinda self-indulgent.)
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Turbo
For starters, Turbo is... selfish at worst, misguided at best.
Yes, he eventually game-jumps and ends up getting RoadBlasters as well as his own game unplugged, but before all that, he was quite the "charmer."
To many within the Game Central Station, Turbo was insufferable or at least a little annoying. His arrogance was enough for them to steer clear of him, regardless of whatever shenanigans he was up to.
It was worse when it came to him falling for someone. Like, who would ever reciprocate any feelings for this guy?
You. The answer is you.
It caught everyone off guard, including Turbo, who used his signature racing puns as a pick-up line (and not even a good one at that).
Once you accepted, oh boy, was he thrilled!
After a good solid minute of showing off his victory to others at Tapper's, his usual cocky self faded as he realizes you are his now.
Like, truly his.
And with that realization, he is overwhelmed at the mere thought of you actually being his partner.
Turbo still likes being the Best Racer Ever and all that, but this time it's all for you - he just has to let you know that you are one lucky person, what with all the 1st Place victories and the trophies that came with them.
As much as he wants to maintain his "cool and popular" look, he can't help but cartoonishly swoon over you from time to time.
Sometimes, you would catch him staring at you with big ole' heart eyes or hear him giggle like a goofball whenever you're nearby.
He absolutely denies it afterward.
Turbo may not be the epitome of the word "Casanova" but what he lacks in smoothness he makes up for with cheesy puns.
Oh my gosh, you cannot get this man to shut up when it comes to his puns - absolutely loves plays on words!
And of course, they're all racecar themed.
But there are also moments where his puns are rather... risque~
It didn't matter where you two were, if Turbo is feeling particularly mischeivous or really lovey-dovey, he will try to fluster you!
At one point, he tried to get you with one really raunchy pun while on a date and you played along with a slick comeback instead...
Guess you can say it really revved up his engine.
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King Candy
Unlike his past self, King Candy is more reserved, having to maintain his sugarcoated facade for over a decade at this point.
He still loves his puns (which are now candy themed), but now he knows how to really treat his partner well.
Be it chocolates of every variety, lollipop roses, jewelry, a trip around Sugar Rush in his racecar - you name it! He is a king, after all!
He will spoil you to death, whether you like it or not.
Not to mention the special treatment you would get as the King's "Thweetheart".
Royal permissions abound - having access to the best seats in any place, not just the Racing Arena, not having to pay for almost anything (although you still pay anyway because it feels illegal not to), having Sour Bill and other servants to cater to you...
Long story short, you got yourself a Sugar Daddy that also just so happens to be a Short King.
Was it to distract you from the fact that he's not actually King Candy? Most definitely, if you're unaware of this.
If for some reason the gifts aren't doing it for you, then His Royal Sweetness will do his damndest to make you swoon through flirting.
You have no idea how or where he gets it from, but that doesn't matter because he really has a way with words...
Sure, they can be flowery and cutesy and maybe even poetic, but there's a sort of tenderness in his voice that never fails to make your heart melt like a marshmallow in hot cocoa.
Especially when he whispers sweet nothings in your ear...
One day, you decide to try and flirt back; that is when you find out your royal beau can be easily flustered!
You took it far enough to make him turn as red as a Hot Tamale - especially when it comes to praises.
Ever since then, King Candy tries his hardest NOT to be flustered into oblivion as you tell him that he's such a good little racer~
How much he dominates all the others in every way possible... and for that he deserves a reward~
... he has yet to succeed.
You may not be royalty (...yet, maybe?) but you certainly felt like one.
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King Candybug
Oh, you sweet little thing... what did you get yourself into?
Perhaps you lived and loved him since the peaceful days of Sugar Rush, or since before the RoadBlasters Incident, but regardless...
You are his.
There is horror in a monster's love; a horror in which you cannot resist - to be loved under smiling fangs and sharp claws, where you dance upon that tightrope between life and death
And once you fall, you fall knowing that you're going to be okay.
Despite what happened to him, he's still your lover.
You loved all of him, and even if the world was crumbling down and he was the cause, you somehow saw past all that.
Being the Cybug King's Chosen One is... not what you expected.
You thought he would be more like an animal - a creature driven purely by instincts.
But no. Instead, it's him. The Real Him. That adorably arrogant bastard in all of his glory.
And you reveled in it.
His favorite game to play with you is not Hide and Seek, as fun as it is. No, his favorite game is Flirting~
And his favorite method is lifting up your chin to meet his eyes.
For so long, you had always the advantage. No matter what, you always won.
And he hated it.
It drove him mad, constantly losing to the one race he couldn't beat! He vowed to one day finally conquer it and once he does...
Who knows what will happen next?
So this... this is vengeance.
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lavender--fairy ¡ 4 months ago
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𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 & 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫
I was always in awe of how Neville manifested for others. To promise someone that you’d fulfill their wishes just with your imagination seemed crazy to me. I mean, can you imagine telling multiple people—not just one—that you’d bring their desires to life, without any ifs, buts, or maybes? And all of it, purely through imagination?
I used to wonder about the what-ifs. What if it didn’t happen at all? What if it didn’t happen in time? What if it wasn’t what they wanted? What if they got upset? What if my doubts ruined it? I’d laugh it off, saying, “Let me manifest a fistful of my own desires first.”
But now I realize—it all comes from unwavering faith and viewing yourself as higher than any state, desire, or problem. Strip them of the unnecessary importance you’ve given them. View them as just states—nothing more. You can do this too. It’s not impossible, or even hard.
Neville wasn’t some demi-god meant only to be praised and listened to. In fact, time after time, he invited people to try it for themselves. And so can you. But do it gently and lovingly. It’s meant to be effortless, not forced.
"But grant me the freedom to change it (my state)—don’t leave me in the state if I desire to get out of it. Yet many a person wallows in it, and wallows in it morning, noon, and night, and they are totally unaware they are doing it. They will say, ‘Oh, yes,’ and then five seconds later they are back in that state (Old Man). I have had interviews with people who will say to me, ‘This is what I would like, but I must first tell you . . . .’ Don’t tell me anything! Tell me what you want—they are only states! They insist on wallowing in all the things of the past.” — Neville
Here he tells how people always wanted to tell him how the circumstances were against them and telling him how the fulfillment of their desires seemed unlikely or even impossible. However, this man, Neville didn’t care about the so-called obstacles people believed stood in the way of their desires. When people came to him, listing all the reasons their desires were impossible, he cut through it all with one simple truth:
“Don’t tell me anything! Tell me what you want. They are only states.”
That’s it. That’s the key. And that’s all you need to do. Stop viewing your problems and desires as something huge. Free yourself from the stress, worry, and doubt—it’s unnecessary, and entirely self-imposed.
This is fear and pedestalization at play.
Here’s an excerpt from my journal on putting things on a pedestal:
Everything is inherently neutral. We’re the ones coloring it with meaning. We put it on a pedestal, look up at it with clasped hands and desperate eyes, wishing it was ours. We make it seem grand, impossible, out of reach, when in reality—it’s just a state.
What if you stripped away all the emotional attachment? What if you took away all the value, status, and importance you’ve assigned to it? What would be left?
A state is nothing without “I AM.”
I’ve only just realized how important it is to view yourself highly. It’s only when you see your desires and problems as huge that anxiety arises. But when you see yourself as higher than any state, you begin to understand how Neville manifested so effortlessly.
It all comes from realizing that you are greater than any desire, problem, or state. Because you are.
I AM is greater than anything—and you are that I AM.
You don’t depend on your desire. It depends on you. You don’t seek your desire. It seeks you. You think you can’t live without it, but the truth is—it can’t exist without your “I AM-ness.”
A creator is always greater than its creation. Remember that.
We’ll tackle fear in the next post. For now, try not to overthink or worry. Sit with this. Contemplate it. And most importantly, be gentle and loving with yourself.
Give yourself a big hug. A pat on the back.
I highly recommend this meditation by EdwardArtSupplyHands to reinforce this:
Pharaoh/King Meditation
Let's aim to view ourselves, high and higher.
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thatdeadaquarius ¡ 1 year ago
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I have a random idea for some sagau crack loosely based on my dynamic with my friend so Im giving it to you because I have been enjoying your sagau language stuff :D
Imagine there are two readers that are two different people. Like, not as in clones they are just two separate people that are rlly good friends on earth. They both really like genshin and play the game, and they both have self aware teyvat citizens. Reader 1 is a whale. They invest a l o t of money on the game, have all the characters, and all the characters have five star weapons. They are like the usual sagau reader you see. They have used up so much money on getting all of the characters, and I mean A L L of them, best weapons, constellations and put a lot of care into it. The place where they really get to show off is their knowledge and love for the lore, and are really invested into it and read all of the artifact descriptions and books. They know about primordial one, the four shining shades, random useless facts about items and often rant to reader 2 about their theories. Their quest bar is always empty because they did them to check out the lore of the game, and are always searching for more lore. They basically play everyday and are always reacting and talking to the characters out loud, unaware that they can hear them.
Meanwhile, Reader 2 is a f2p who is only interested in the archon quest lore and the lore of their fav characters. Because they are f2p, their options are limited so there is some blatant favoritism. They choose their fav character to save up for, and then pull for them. After they get the character they want, they will no longer pull and save up from there. Because of this, they only have like 5 five stars and only have zero five star weapon. Their favourite character is their main(*cough* wanderer *cough*), and unlike reader 1 who uses all of their characters regularly, reader 2 sticks to this character for most of their gameplay unless they need to use someone else. However, reader 2 takes almost an entire month to finish building a character, because they go overboard with the artifact stats. You would expect to normally have a 50 180 crit ratio, but reader 2’s dps characters always, and I mean ALWAYS have 50 200 crit ratio or more. Like, their main (it doesnt have to be wanderer but Im putting him here anyways) has 70 and 200 crit ratio, is crowned, full 4 pc best in slot, and is even crowned and faruzan only needs like 200 er but reader 2 gave them 300. (Im totally not putting this here because this is what I did/j) Reader 2 is also the type to never speak while gaming, so the first time they spoke everyone turned it into a national holiday to be celebrated. They also play a lot less than player 1. Player 1 plays everyday while player 2 plays for a month straight and then takes a long break to wait for the content to pile up.
So these two gremlin besties are always speaking with each other, and are always on coop. Whenever player 1 needs help making team comps or building characters, they just ask player 2 for help. And whenever player 2 needs help understanding the lore of the game, they ask player 1. But all I can think abt is the first time they cooped. Imagine player 1 was using childe and then when the coop starts, both childe and wanderer are very confused as to wtf is going on. Like, childe is confused because he sensed a strange aura coming form them like whenever someone gets controlled by reader 1, and wanderer is confused because reader 2 seemed so excited that they were talking, but its just childe? Reader 2 always skips childe’s banners.
Thats it lol, hope this wasnt too long.
Not long at all! Or more like, I like long asks so feel free to share! :D
IM SO SORRY ITS LIKE MONTHS LATER TO GET TO YOU I PROMISE I LOVE UR STUFF AND AM SUPER EXCITED TO SEE IT,
IM JUST SLOW AND GOOFY 😭😭
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Said friends in genshin like: ^^^
this kinda inspires me/reminds me of @mists-reading-nook soldier/poet/king post, you should check xe stuff!! Gave me brainrot to this day tbh, like im imaging how that “3rd King style of worship” would look like even now lmao ive been down bad 😭
☆
Sun: 2 Readers! (as desc. above), (you/they/them)
Orbit: Headcanons-ish
Stars: wanderer/childe, mentions of others i forgot to focus on any one character or nation :/
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing language, & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
dual symbolism everywhere, obv you both thought “for the twins” but it just kept getting out of hand the more the game updated over the months lol
like shrines/temples/churches showing up more often in new countries/areas and always identifying the same 2 gods
obv the for-the-lore player picked up on it first, and by the time the trickle-down effect happened, where characters/NPCs were outright talking about these gods, the 2nd was asking the lore knower to explain lol
the 2 gods kept getting referred to by a few names, like “The Soldier and the Scholar” or “The Sage and the Warrior” or “The Keeper and the Pursuer” etc.
after awhile of comparing both of your games, you realize that some vision users/gods tend to use the soldier/warrior/pursuer titles more often when talking about one of you, and the other gets the sage/scholar/keeper more often
u both get excited, maybe its bc you chose diff travelers or some other reason, but when u try and post abt it or otherwise ask other players u get a lot of negatives/”hasnt happened for me”s??
u both just think the games glitched or some dev is playing a prank on you two maybe,
it gets weirder when u both realize the lore player be over here getting random gifts from all the characters in the mail all the time
and just as grinding players like “ :’( my favs don't like me?? but they have the best artifacts and maxed friendship levels..”
they get flooded with multiple gifts from their main characters, most of which benefit the grind tbh lmao (like a bunch of cheaper materials or crystals to level up artifacts/weapons or to ascend that character = no more slaughtering every samurai on sight for their handguards or collected a fuckton of those blue layered mushrooms for wanderer)
god u were both grateful to this glitch ngl, it saved a lot of dumb misc tasks and was just a nice touch
no but the amount of confusion inside the game from when u first started playing together, like each of ur games began with stuff abt 1 god, then as u co-oped moved onto 2 gods (like said at the beginning)
the lore player is blabbing away like you do, which begins to be heard by the other player’s game world
like it starts as whispers in battle, then all the time, then a quiet convo in the background all the time, until they can just hear u out of earshot esp word for word when they focus!! at first the vision-users/gods got all excited bc their god was speaking!! finally!!! until I'm sure they heard narration that didn't fit/it was there sometimes even when their god’s presence wasn't?/voice sounded “off” to them/didnt fit their god…??
ok ik u were joking abt the national holiday,,, but I’m not. 😈
THE FIRST WORDS 2ND SPOKE BEING IN A PROPHECY, REGARDLESS OF WHAT IT IS THEY SAY.
Player 1, playing as Childe, steals a singular (1) sweet flower from Player 2, who has Wanderer out:
P2: “I seriously hate you. Listen to what I’m saying, I can’t stand you.”
(Wanderer panicking that its abt him- Childe freezing bc he managed to piss off a god that feels as powerful as his own- the PROPHECY LMAO- )
P1: “… you miss me.”
(everyone else: 💥vine boom sound 💥😦😨😰???)
P2: “I hate you.”
P1: “You miss me and you love me, why must we fight??”
(everyone else: 💥vine boom again💥🤨🫠??…)
P2: “I hate you-”
P1: “-we gotta good thing going on, you and I, why must we tussle??”
(everyone else: 💥yet another vine boom💥 💀💀)
(the absolute deep anxiety/pure confusion as the two harbingers heads just ping pong back and forth towards the voices lmao)
u two scare the shit out of any characters u do this with lol
they do get used to it as u talk, and the characters even manage to interact (thru hacking magical shenanigans and discord)
to send thank you gifts to player 1 for getting player 2 to talk more lol
along with sending copies of any lore books that player 2 has gotten that player 1 hasn't!
and it becomes common/tradition to exchange gifts like this to thank or appreciate the other god, like player 1 characters sending thank you gift copies of rare materials or ascension stuff that player 1 had that player 2 didn't (esp making sure to send during resinless hours lmao)
overall, 10/10, whats better than 1 god that plays one way? 2 gods that compensate for each other and now u have 2x the worshippers
(i wonder how meeting alternate versions of themselves would go, bc id like to headcanon that each of ur behavior towards them/ur unique influence has changed them a bit comparing, like they arent carbon copies anymore, not like they used to be…)
☆
hey sorry for slowing down guys!!
i just feel bad its taken me forever to get to these asks, so i wanted to take what time i could lately and charge thru them so i could spam post lol
I've also been working on fics! so that's delayed things by a lot, bc fics take longer to “respond to” than short asks or replies
my poor bsd fic
Anyway thank you so much for sending this in!!! I'm so sorry i took forever to get to it, and i hope u enjoyed response/my brain shitting this out lol
have a good weekend!! :D
Safe Travels Anon!!
💀♒
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If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit
@kiyomi-uchiha777
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larkwinged ¡ 1 month ago
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒 𝐅. 、𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
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PROFILE. a self-righteous knight who is too willing to throw their life away, and too eager to charge into battle. underneath their stubborn exterior, they are riddled with the pressure of upholding a family title that has long been lost to time.
FULL NAME. artemis elise frĂśhlich
PRONOUNS. they / them
GENDER. fem-presenting non-binary
AGE. early twenties
HEIGHT. 5”1
BIRTHDAY. november 12th
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OCCUPATION. knight
AFFILIATION. knights of favonius
ELEMENT. pyro
CONSTELLATION. columba bellicosi
WEAPON TYPE. sword — “herald of the dawn”
Now stripped of its original purpose as a vessel to store all the memories of an ancient god king, this sword has been passed down in the FrĂśhlich family since the dawn of time.
Once wielded by the god of memories herself, this sword was blessed by the winds and presented as a gift to her youngest child upon the morn of their knighting ceremony.
“You, who represent the grace and bravery of humanity,” said the Queen, “take this and go. Become a pillar of hope to those wallowing in the darkness, and guide the lost onto a chivalrous path. You, the Dovewing Knight.”
And so, the first Dovewing Knight set out, protecting the people of Cairnfelle and standing tall as a beacon of hope, just as they were requested.
At the edge of the world, when the brilliance of Cairnfelle collapsed and the mountains crumbled, the sword found its way tumbling back into the hands of its previous owner to defend her honor, and upkeep her legacy until the final trumpet sang … announcing her defeat.
With no definite home, the sword lay in the ruins of its kin, preserved well by the Anemo Archon and his will — until the day it found its way into the waiting hands of the inheritor of an ancient title.
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• demo music concepts. one two three
• ENG voice claim : keath ósk as cole seymour from yaelokre’s “meadowlark” project
• JP voice claim : marina inoue as armin arlert from attack on titan
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CHARACTER STORY 1: eastward of eden
It is true that Artemis has long held resentment towards their older sister and past caretaker, Lilith. As a child, Artemis was refused of many things — including choosing their own clothes, partaking in certain activities, and having their own privacy. There wasn’t much they were allowed to do, and even the hobbies they enjoyed ended up ruined by Lilith’s excitement and pushy nature.
To this day, Lilith is unaware of the mental anguish she caused her siblings over the course of their entire childhood. However, in her own eyes, she has done no such thing, and has succeeded at being a “mother.”
Many citizens have told her, “My, you exercise much control over them,” and yet, she has failed to see the error in her ways. It is not entirely her fault, as she was forced into the role of a mother when she wasn’t ready for such a task. Even though she failed in many aspects of her parenting skills, there was one thing she has always truly succeeded at: caring deeply for her family.
However, no amount of love could undo the years of fighting and hurtful words thrown around between the siblings.
CHARACTER STORY 2: legacy
Long ago, in the days of yore, the archaic land of Mondstadt had been ruled by a monarch older than Decarabian. Her rule was rumored to last longer than his, and her birth is now nothing but scattered fragments along the wind.
When the Queen of the North Wind descended and claimed Mondstadt as her home, a mighty kingdom formed under her feet. Small huts grew to larger, firmer homes, and gargantuan cathedrals made of marble were erected in her honor. Trumpets blew, the wind howled, snow fell, and mountains as high as the heavens towered above humanity.
In later years, the prospering kingdom of Cairnfelle was officially born. Serving as a haven for travelers and poets alike, the kingdom sang with energy as it thrived under Queen Catalina’s guiding hand. The god of memories was exceptionally gentle, with a kind and compassionate heart that moved even the most stoic-faced men to tears. Her words were wise, her complexion glowing, and her promises true.
Cairnfelle, as much as it prospered, gained an enemy from a distant land. With no choice but to face the beast she prodded, the Queen set out to befriend the raging phoenix that had enough of her games. Ever the charming soul, the Queen did not have to do much to make the phoenix bow to her every whim, and before the citizens of Cairnfelle had the chance to acclimate to the visitor, the two were to be wed.
There is not much to say for the years in between the joining of two god kings and the fall of Cairnfelle, but this: Four inexplicably brave and virtuous souls were born from the two gods — four demigod knights who carved the way for the future of Mondstadt: The Four Archangels.
The Blair Family — the origin of the Fröhlichs, is no longer the raging flame of life it had once been, but a snuffed out ember of its former glory.
Only in passing on the titles of the Four Archangel Knights can the present day FrĂśhlich family hold tight to what was once a name feared and adored by all.
CHARACTER STORY 3: composition
Many questions have arisen over the years; all pertaining to a certain facet of Artemis’ composition.
“Is it a curse?” They’ve inquired, only to wind up receiving a simple, “I’m not even sure myself!”
However, that it is a small white lie they’ve grown to tell. In fact, Artemis is very much aware of the reason why they consistently find themselves on the brink of death and luckily make it out alive. It is because of the unique composition their ancestor, Lowen, was made of: pure and unbridled wrath.
The story goes as such: In the days of yore, when gods and monsters still yet walked the earth, a beast born of flame and rage took flight. They seared their enemies and allies alike, and roused the hearts of warriors all across Natlan. They utterly refused to lay their past life to rest. In doing so, they made a promise to their newfound family. The wrath that lived inside them was nothing but a blessing, and deserved to be passed on through their children, and future generations. And so, the endless wrath that boiled in their veins was passed on — consuming the lives of their children, and overtaking the brilliant flames that became their descendants.
To be a god’s descendant has always been an honor in the Fröhlich family line… Yet, Artemis — like the direct children of the god of wrath — see it as naught but a curse; For what blessing could bring about destruction and the devastation of any living being in one’s wake.
VISION STORY:
The blistering pyro vision attached to Artemis’ belt was said to be a gift from the gods, and maybe even a gift from the long gone god of wrath themselves.
What else are visions besides gifts from the gods? A tool to wield, and yet another curse Artemis must deal with.
At the young age of eleven, Artemis was sent out on their first escorting mission. It was their first mission given to them by Grand Master Varka, who was elated to test their strength and endurance. Not many were willing to accept an escort from a child — as was the case with the Fontainian aristocrat Artemis was talking their ear off to. However, the man said nothing, as the child’s directional skills were second to none. It was only when they hit a bump in the road that the man questioned Artemis’ capabilities as a knight.
“I should’ve known better than to trust a child!” He yelled, waving his fist in the air as he pushed them aside and ran off ahead by himself in the rain, leaving the young Artemis to fend for themselves amidst a hoard of abyssal monsters.
Although panic was steadily rising throughout their body, they forced themself forward — slashing at every monster with a shaky grip on their sword. The rain poured, sagging their clothes, and dragging their arms down to the dirt. The grip on their sword slipped, as did their footing, and they tumbled to the hard ground with a rough clash.
Their shoulder-piece scratched the bridge of their nose on the way down, and a thick line of blood began to spill from the open wound. A rifthound drew closer, baring its teeth and snapping its jaw as its claws outstretched, striking Artemis across the head. A clap of thunder sounded, and amidst the ringing in their ears, Artemis felt the weight of ten large wooden planks collapse on their back.
Even so, they shakily grabbed their sword, their nails digging into the wet earth, and began to stand. Their blood boiled as a wrath they were only warned about once crept up to the surface, prickling along their skin until it caved inwards, tugging at their ribcage and burning against their racing heart.
In a flash of white and gold, the hoard of rifthounds lay motionless on the grass, their bodies turning to dust as Artemis panted heavily. The wrath inside their veins bubbled, and their vision turned red. It was all consuming. It was destructive, and it was total annihilation. They struck down every monster seeping from an abyssal pylon until finally, they tore the pylon in half with nothing but their blade and their bare hands.
The rain continued to fall as they dropped their sword and collapsed to the ground in a heap of sore limbs and bloodied grass. Their eyes fell close for a moment — at least, what felt like a moment — and when they opened, a shining vision sat amongst the pool of blood left behind by their foes.
Indeed. The god of wrath, whose curse ran rampant in their veins, rewarded them with yet another “gift.”
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𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒
𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀
• hobbies: When they are home in Dornman Port enjoying their days off, they like to wind down by practicing the art of crochet. Not only is it soothing to sit by a windowsill while the afternoon breeze filters into their bedroom, it is also a hobby their late mother held dear. By partaking in this hobby, they feel closer to their mother, and can preserve her memory longer. Another hobby is sports. Artemis can often be found playing with the kids in the port during vacations.
• beliefs: The Fröhlich family have always dedicated their lives to the protection of Mondstadt, and hold a firm worship to a god king who has long been dead. Although they have accepted Barbatos as their new savior, they still hold their original god close to their hearts. Artemis has naturally followed this belief and considers their worship of the god of memories their religion. During rough times, they find solace in a temple far north and meditate there for as long as they deem necessary. Once a month, they offer up a few of their most important memories— a ritual that has been passed down in the Fröhlich family for over 3000 years.
(This act of offering up memories is akin to the way some worshippers will offer animal sacrifices to the god they serve.)
• about — fate: Artemis is a firm believer that fate will guide the worthy and ultimately lead everyone onto the path they are destined to walk. However, they do not include the meddling of gods and higher beings into this equation. They believe that fate is its own entity and not dictated by the Archons nor Celestia. It acts of its own accord, and the gods are mere victims of fate, as well. Not even Celestia will be spared.
• about — death: Artemis believes that death is a stepping stone to a greater afterlife. Akin to their many family members, they believe that life is temporary, and death is eternal. When one dies, they are not truly dead; for they are shedding their mortal shell and accepting their true form, which is the soul. The soul will live on forever in the afterlife, while the physical body is nothing more than a temporary shell to house said soul. With this belief, the Fröhlich family does not fear death, but welcomes it with open arms— greeting it like an old friend.
#⟢ ── artemis f. .ᐟ#art by dearest koue 💋#TIS FINALLY FINISHED !!!!! holy hell. i have#<- MUCH to say.#first off let me start by apologizing for the small ass text 😔 big text stressed me out sometimes and often looks incredibly wonky/janky#at least to me it does#and it bothers me a hell of a lot#OKAY!!! ON TO MY DARLING ARTEMIS NOW :3#this took me. so so so long to do man. i unfortunately dont have a reference pic for them yet but i hope to have one in ->#the future !!!! some artists ive considered commissioning dont draw armor so 💔💔 i have to find one that DOES#bc artemis’ standard fit/fit they’d wear if they were playable would include armor#u guys have only seen snippets of their casual/home wear so far#second — artemis’ weapon !!! i’ve known since their creation that they would wield a sword ! ik it’s basic af but it’s the only weapon that#<- fits them. if i had to choose a diff weapon for any reason then they’d use a bow. it’s already kinda their secondary weapon anyw since -#they were trained and r skilled at archery. that’s only in recent times though bc venti was the one who taught them archery !#‘herald of the dawn’ is a name i came up with on a whim. and imo it def suits as the name of their sword !!!#also artemis shares a birthday with me 🫣#‘columba bellicosi’ means warrior dove - or smth of the like. yuomi helped with the constellation name so shoutout to my goat 🤍#it’s also kinda cool bc catalina’s constellation is ‘columba mortis’ or - ‘dove of death’#ofc i had to include lowen into their character stories LOL#lowen is the reason artemis is rumored to be a demigod#also … THE BLAIR FAMILY MENTIONED EVERYONE CHEERED !!!!!#still not sure whether or not i like the vision story and i can always change it … i had a rlly hard time with it. i knew how i wanted them#<- to get their vision but i didnt know how to go about it. i think it turned out alright#me and artemis share the same views on death ! cool fact for u guys hehe :3#one last thing !!! the voice claims were a bit hard to choose#i had NO idea where to start but then yaelokre began releasing more content of their character cole ->#and i KNEW i wanted cole’s voice to be artemis’ voice claim. it suits them perfectly#the jp voice claim was also a struggle bc i didnt know where to start 😭 but then i remembered my goat marina inoue and her ->#outstanding performance as armin and knew that had to be artemis’ jp voice 🙂‍↕️
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toxinoire ¡ 6 months ago
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The craziest thing about Epic is that it didn't need Ody's canon to The Odyssey SA to show that Odysseus has lost his own autonomy anyway.
He embraces his side as "the monster" until you question, is he really? Or did he really have no choice?
Looking at the line of "I am not your kind and gentle husband" makes me think back to Just A Man.
It is shown that Odysseus really hates being soldier. He had no choice but to kill the infant because Zeus told him to. And Troy? If we look at The Iliad, he didn't want to go to war from the beginning. And this is the first real time he loses a part of him; his kindness makes him argue with Zeus, his gentleness makes him willing to raise the boy. But he couldn't defy the King of The Gods.
And then Polites tries to bring those parts back, even unintentionally. But Athena tries to tell him he can't do that--his mentor contributes to losing those aspects of himself.
Next is when Polites dies, and well, that's self explanatory.
Another is when Polyphemus kills some of his crew. Part of his identity is being a captain, a king. He knows how to lead people. But then shit went down and he slowly fails to be captain anymore.
And then Poseidon adds onto making Odysseus lose that side of himself more by killing majority of his men.
Circe's Island made him hold onto the scraps of being a captain he has left in him. But even so, Circe tried to lust him so she could kill him, which itself is bad. Though Circe lets them go, even though Ody was unaware of Circe almost killing him, that itself made him hold onto the husband part of him more. That's what got him out of it.
So the Underworld. He hears the screams of his men, and their last thoughts blaming him. Their last thoughts being "Captain, why would you let the Cyclops live when ruthlessness is mercy-" is them blaming Odysseus for their deaths. This makes him lose more of his captain side.
Then he sees Polites, and then his mom. He breaks down again after we last saw him do so in Troy.
And then Tiresias shows him his fate, which he misinterprets. Why? We all know the man is him, but why did he not think it was him? He was holding onto the husband part of him the most, so much that it blinded him.
So here comes song 20.
And in the Thunder Saga, we see him lose more of his gentleness and kindness. He's also barely holding onto being a captain by a thread.
Scylla is the entire explanation.
Mutiny is the last bit of that thread and it finally snapped during Thunder Bringer. He lost his leadership, he's no longer a captain. And quite frankly, it traumatized him so much already.
Calypso's island, though this version makes Calypso naive, she, like Jorge said, is ruthless in her own way. He was trapped. He was probably still holding onto the husband aspect of him subconsciously, as to why he never slept with her. But it was buried pretty deep.
"All I hear are screams" Who's to say he hadn't been hearing this for the past seven years, but that day he was so close to losing to those screams. He lost his side of being a captain, he lost his side of being a friend, he lost his side of being gentle and kind.
So his side as a husband is all he could hold onto anymore in The Vengeance Saga. During Full Speed Ahead, we see his king aspect through the lyric "Ithaca's waiting, my kingdom is waiting" but in Dangerous, he has no more king aspect. It's just him wanting to be home to his family at this point.
And then he loses himself more in Six Hundred Strike, as he lost his last bits of mercy when Poseidon offered him none. All that's left of him is wanting to be with Penelope, and his hopes of finally seeing his son.
The suitors' plans had been horrible. But honestly, he would have killed them anway even if they hadn't planned shit. He lost his patience for threats, he lost his mercy, his gentlessness. He is still cunning, but he's gone. Odysseus, King of Ithaca, is gone. "Old king" He's still king by title, but can he really manage a whole kingdom anymore? Like he used to since he was thirteen?
If it had not been for Penelope, he never would have embraced that he, no matter what, is still just a man, no matter how monstrous. But he lost so much of himself, and he knows. He lost his own autonomy, he lost what he knew of himself.
Finally holding his son and his wife yelling at him made him understand that he's still human, but post Epic/The Odyssey the man is already so traumatized, that he most likely forgot so many things of himself. He lost what made him Odysseus, King of Ithaca, which is a BIG part of him. Odysseus, husband of Penelope, father lof Telemachus, is all that's left of him. While those may be the most important parts of him, he's still traumatized, and only knows of himself as a monster now.
He is, quite frankly, no longer him.
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rawliverandgoronspice ¡ 3 months ago
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Can you perhaps elaborate on the "Ganondorf should get to pummel Rauru"
As far as I'm recalling, we don't actually get that much of their issues in totk? We see leaders clashing, and then essentially Ganondorf kills Sonia and steals the secret stone, kicking off the imprisoning war. It's been a minute since I looked at the lore of totk (No Urbosa, so I'm nowhere near as invested as I am in botw) so I wouldn't be surprised if there's something big I missed, or even subtext I never picked up on
Sure! It's always very funny to me to receive the occasional ask like this, since I have been Renowned as a Rauru hater since release, but to briefly recap my perspective: I think Rauru was one self-conscious writing decision away from being the most compelling morally gray character in all of the Zelda canon, but unfortunately is heralded as being a near-perfect ruler (though even his imperfection is an extremely unclear and unexamined flaw that no character ever hold him accountable for --except for Ganondorf, and even what Ganondorf does call him out on is also unclear and also depends on translation because it wouldn't be a Zelda game otherwise) even though Rauru is mostly responsible, not only for his own problems, but also for everybody else's --including, crucially, Zelda's.
In a few words, he cannot be excused (like Zelda or Rhoam) by having to bear the weight of a kingdom for his poor decisions since, you know, he invented the damn thing (then of course maybe he would have to uphold the zonai legacy or something, and this is his motivation, but we don't know, since the game isn't interested in giving us this kind of information). His repeated invitations to the gerudos (and others but the gerudos are the only one not drinking the kool aid? which should be completely ok), being this new ruler of a brand new kingdom that didn't exist 5 minutes prior and yet feeling like he is somehow owed extreme levels of loyalty and devotion from everyone around him, being considered reasonable by the writing, is really baffling to me. Him dismissing Zelda's warnings (as tame as they are, which is just incomprehensible writing contrivences) even though he accepts that she does indeed come from the future, from a Hyrule ravaged by war, is crazy. Him running off to hunt and leave his priestess-wife in charge of the kingdom he founded on her lands while still speaking over her politically is.... sure a choice that was made in the writing. Him then choosing to warn Ganondorf that Link is a guy that exists and will kick his ass, is literally the reason why Link doesn't get the advantage and gets his arm destroyed. And then, in spite of all that, in spite of having the full picture, Rauru is vague and utterly unhelpful as a spirit while Link recovers, pondering that it's so sad that Constructs have to toil for all eternity for no purpose... :(
And like, yes Rauru, indeed Rauru, but maybe, just maybe, that should tell us something about how incredibly self-centered this goat-dragon-dude is --not realizing what he was imposing to his servants and people for his own leisure, in the name of his peace. I don't think he is evil, as in: he's not a cackling unsubtle and vapid caricature like Ganondorf is, but wow is this guy the most self-unaware and entitled character accidentally written in a game that fails to realize the absolute metric ton of red flags inserted in every single one of his scenes that I've... ever seen.
Again, if all of this was intentional, he would have been a masterful character. Maybe my favorite guy.
But the game destroying all other characters' interiority (and botw's worlbduilding) to tell this incredibly uncompelling tragedy about this super-cool perfect king and his series of completely avoidable failures... yeah, that really did not sit well with me at all.
Other posts about the topic that I've written previously:
A post about imperialism themes and aesthetics in TotK (I think it probably deserves an update with more specific historical examples)
A post about intent VS execution (especially re: good rulers and good kingdoms, and why this trope needs to be earned --contrasting TotK and EoW)
So yeah! Rauru. Weirdo guy. Compelling weirdo guy I think, but in a way the fandom really uhh disagrees with overall haha
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simplyraeblue ¡ 4 months ago
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King and Captive
(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here
modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader
chapter warnings/tags: swearing, light drinking, MDNI, NSFW, Gojo is a menace to society, stalker Sukuna?, smut smut smut, p in v, creampie, unprotected sex A/N: I literally had this part written out and rewrote it entirely bc I ended up hating the direction I took initially 🥴 also if you can’t tell I love writing Gojo and I stg I wish he was my friend (with benefits) index part eight | part ten
part nine word count : 4,580
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It had been two weeks since Sukuna had found you in the bar. Two weeks since you’d sent him that text. And two week since he last felt sane.
Being kept at arm's length hurt more than Sukuna would like to admit. He’d tried everything – good morning texts, sending you flowers, even having lunch delivered to your office. We’re talking the fucking works, and yet you were still hesitant to trust him fully. You were still determined to keep your distance, and he understood that. Hell, he knew he deserved it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.  
He missed you. Fuck he missed you a lot more than he thought possible. You brought a light back into his life, challenged him, made him feel alive. And, to make matters worse, Sukuna couldn’t bear to hear Gojo whine about your absence like a child anymore. 
Speaking of... one thing he hated worse than the cold shoulder? Finding out that you’d been secretly befriending the enemy.  
That was the issue he hated even more than your cautious distance—the growing friendship between you and Gojo. To Sukuna, Gojo might as well have been the enemy, even though he wasn't really. But seeing the self-satisfied smirk on the little shit’s face when he replaced Sukuna as your after-work companion was more than he could bear. Gojo delighted in rubbing it in, especially after enduring two weeks of distance from you, never letting him forget it. 
Sukuna swore he was not a jealous man. No, he had enough of an ego that he didn’t need to be concerned about such trivial things. But this stung. Were you really not affected by his absence? Did you really have to stoop so low to make Gojo your best friend? Gojo – of all the fucking people? 
This inner turmoil had driven him to this moment. Now, Sukuna sat hidden in a shadowy corner of the bar, his hood drawn over his head, watching you laugh and drink with Gojo. It was torture seeing you so close yet so out of reach. In the bar you two spent so much time in.  
And Gojo seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Sukuna was sure that bastard had a sixth sense because the moment you both walked in, Gojo's icy blue eyes had clocked him from the doorway. Yet, you seemed blissfully unaware, and Sukuna was left to brood in silence, wondering when Gojo would drop the bomb. He’s sure he’d enjoy it. 
Gojo was in fact enjoying it very very much.  
He had Sukuna in the palm of his hand right now. Gojo never thought he’d see the day the Sukuna cowered against the wall like a hurt little puppy, and he was relishing in the sight. "So, what's on tap for today? Cosmo? Lemon drop?" Gojo teased, pushing his sunglasses down his nose with a smirk. "Sex on the Beach?" 
You rolled your eyes, dismissing his antics. "Quit acting like a child," you chided, resting your chin on your palm. 
When the waiter approached to take your orders, Gojo didn't hesitate. "Whiskey, neat. And a Sex on the Beach." he said, winking at you. Before the waiter could walk away, Gojo called out, "Oh, and add one of those little frilly umbrellas to that cocktail, please!" 
"You just wanted to order that so you could say something inappropriate," you retorted, sticking out your tongue playfully. 
Gojo grinned back, leaning in his seat with satisfaction. "So, how's this little dry spell going for you, babe?" And there it was. You’d think after starting to hang out with him more regularly you’d have gotten used to this by now. “I mean, are you at least touching yourself?” 
“Gojo!” you exclaimed as your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. “Other people can probably hear you!” 
Oh, Sukuna heard. Every word sharpened his focus, his attention fixed on your interaction with Gojo, his ears straining to catch your response amidst the hum of the bar. 
Gojo's gaze flickered towards Sukuna for a brief moment, though you remained oblivious to the silent exchange. "Well? Are you gonna answer my question or am I going to have to pry it out of you?" he pressed, a teasing lilt in his voice. 
"No." Your answer was firm, spoken softly enough that Sukuna had to lean forward slightly to catch it. The truth was, the emotional turmoil of keeping things casual with Sukuna had consumed so much of your energy that you hadn't allowed yourself time to consider much else. 
Gojo leaned back, seemingly satisfied with your response, though his eyes still held a mischievous spark. "Alright, I'll let you off the hook... for now." He glanced back at Sukuna, a silent challenge in his gaze, then turned back to you. "You know, if you ever need to talk—or not talk—I'm right here." 
Your gaze shot up to meet Gojo's, who wore a mischievous grin that you knew all too well. If you had something to throw at him, you would have; but lacking any handy projectiles, you were left to fend with your words. "Don't be an asshole, Gojo. You know I wouldn’t do that—not to Sukuna, and certainly not with you." 
Sukuna let out a sigh of relief. God, he knew Gojo was just purposefully pushing his buttons at this point, but he didn’t know what he would’ve done if you’d taken him up on his inappropriate offer. Probable would’ve dragged Gojo outside by that perfectly well-kept hair on his head.  
Gojo’s grin only broadened at your response, clearly enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. "Oh, come on, I'm just stirring the pot a bit. You know I wouldn't really suggest something like that." He glanced subtly in Sukuna's direction. "It’s all in good fun, right? Just trying to lighten the mood a bit." 
“Yeah, well lighten it some other way than suggesting I fuck you to get over him.” You couldn’t help the slight snap in your voice as the words came out. But you couldn’t help it – you weren’t just frustrated over the whole situation... dammit you were sexually frustrated too.  
You’d had a taste, and now you were like an addict without their fix. 
Gojo beamed at your irritated reaction, either oblivious to the concept of self-preservation or simply reveling in being the instigator. Just as he opened his mouth to continue his playful torment, the bartender arrived with your drinks, placing the cocktail in front of you and the neat whiskey in front of him. 
As soon as the bartender turned away, you switched the drinks. “I’m really trying here, Gojo,” you said abruptly, lifting the glass of whiskey to your lips and allowing the sharp burn to wash away the swirling thoughts. “I could cave at any second – truly. Is that stupid of me?” 
“Yeah, probably,” Gojo replied with disarming honesty, causing you to pout until he playfully ruffled your hair. “But let’s be honest, you were ready to cave the minute he showed up here after your text weeks ago.” 
Ugh. You hated that he was right. “Okay, then does that make me weak?” 
“No.” You exhaled a sigh of relief at his response, only for it to be cut short as he shot you a knowing smirk. “It makes you in love.” 
Heat rushed to your face, coloring it from the tips of your ears to your chin. Flustered, you began to wave your hands defensively. “What? No. We haven’t even said that yet. Are you sure there’s not too much alcohol in that drink? I mean, look at it, it’s—” 
A slender hand clamped over your mouth to cut you off. “Listen, it’s cool. We all can see it in the way you look at each other,” Gojo told you, his voice low and certain. Your muffled hmph vibrated against his palm, but he only shook his head at the sound. “I can only call one thing you’ve done stupid in the time I’ve known you.” 
He removed his hand from your mouth as you scowled at him, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. “And what’s that?” you asked. 
“That you haven’t given him another chance yet,” Gojo said simply, his gaze piercing and his voice earnest, cutting through the noise of the bar and hitting right at the heart of your fears and hopes. 
Sukuna's attention was zeroed in on the exchange between you and Gojo. Every word hit him like a physical blow. He sipped his drink quietly, the sharp taste of the alcohol barely registering as he absorbed Gojo's words and your reactions.  
The mention of love made his heart race. Love. The word had weight, carrying with it all the possibilities and dangers of a deeper commitment. Sukuna had considered his feelings for you many times, analyzed them, fought them, and now, hearing them so bluntly mirrored back through Gojo’s teasing, it struck a chord. 
As Gojo’s hand covered your mouth to silence your flustered denials, Sukuna found himself frowning, a protective instinct flaring up within him. He knew Gojo meant no harm, but the physical gesture was enough to stir a discomfort he hadn’t expected to feel. He watched closely, his gaze intense and unwavering as Gojo removed his hand, giving you space to respond. 
While you stood silently, probably weighing your thoughts, Sukuna’s entire body sat taught. He was waiting on the edge of his seat for your response – crossing his fingers, maybe even fucking praying that you’d give him some shred of hope in the next few words.
Otherwise, he might hurl himself out of the glass window he leaned against.  
You let out a sigh, a mix of resignation and determination settling in. "Fine. I’ll give him a call, does that make you happy?" You glanced up to see Gojo's grin widen, his delight clear even without words. 
“You should do it right now,” Gojo suggested nonchalantly, crossing his arms and casually leaning against the bar. Unbeknownst to you, his position was strategically chosen to give him a clear view of Sukuna’s reaction, anticipating the drama that was about to unfold. 
“Fuck,” Sukuna muttered under his breath, his hands diving into his pockets in a frantic search for his phone. His heart hammered against his ribcage—was his ringer on? What if it suddenly blared out loud? “Goddamit.” 
He patted down his pockets in a panic, finally noticing the phone peeking out from under the table. It must have slipped out when he leaned forward earlier, straining to catch every nuance of your voice. As he reached for it, his fingers barely grazed the device before his ringtone shattered the tense quiet of his hiding spot, your picture flashing brightly on the screen for anyone watching to see. 
Sukuna's heart skipped as he snatched up the phone, silencing it with a swift press. He glanced up, his eyes scanning the bar to see if anyone had noticed. Gojo’s knowing smirk told him everything he needed to know—the gig was up. Gojo had planned this, he was sure of it, manipulating the situation with the ease of a conductor leading an orchestra. 
With no other option left, Sukuna took a deep breath and answered your call. 
“Why are you hiding like some kind of stalker?” you demanded, your voice clear through his phone speaker. Sukuna glanced up, startled, and saw you marching towards him with a mix of determination and irritation marking your features. 
He didn't respond until you were standing right next to his table, arms crossed firmly, with Gojo looming behind you wearing a grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sukuna muttered defensively, darting a desperate glance at Gojo, silently begging for some semblance of support or at least a quick diversion. 
“Oh, he’s been here the whole time. You didn’t notice?” Gojo chimed in, his tone laced with feigned surprise. “I saw him as soon as we walked in.” 
Your eyes widened with shock, and a slight sense of betrayal tinged your response as you processed the reality that Sukuna had been there all along. You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a fierce whisper. “Were you eavesdropping on us?” 
“No,” Sukuna replied swiftly, a little too quickly, avoiding your gaze as he did.  
“You totally were!” You accused more sharply this time, pointing a finger directly at him. “How much did you hear?” 
“I’m sure he heard every word. He probably paid extra attention when I mentioned you mastur—” Gojo started to say, but you cut him off mid-sentence with a swift smack to the back of his head. 
“You knew too,” you said, glaring at Gojo who was now massaging the spot where you’d hit him. “You should’ve said something.” 
“Yeah, what kind of friend does that?” Sukuna jumped in, seizing the opportunity to deflect some of the focus from himself. However, your icy stare quickly silenced him, and he grimaced under your scrutinizing gaze. 
“Did you two plan this?” you asked, your voice thick with suspicion and a hint of anger. 
“No,” they both responded in unison, almost too quickly.  You didn’t know if you should believe them, but the reality that Gojo and Sukuna would work together to pull this off was just too insane.  
“So…” Gojo began, slowly backing towards the exit, sensing perhaps that his presence was no longer helpful. “I’m gonna go. Let you two catch up. Maybe open the flood gates for that dry—” 
“Stop talking about it!” Your voice clashed with Sukuna’s, both of you shooting daggers at Gojo. He quickly picked up the cue and scurried away from the bar, leaving the field clear for a more private conversation. 
As you plopped down in the seat across from him, you really had no idea what to expect.  
- 
Well, you definitely didn’t expect this.  
How did you get here? You barely exchanged words with Sukuna before he walked you home, claiming you’d had too much to drink – you'd barely sipped your whiskey – and needed company. You had half a mind to refuse, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.  
What was supposed to be goodbye at the door turned into something more.  
Being folded into a mean mating press was the last thing you thought would happen. Yet here you were, weak in the mind and in the body. Every inch of your skin had been worshipped ten times over by now – and Sukuna showed no sign of stopping.  
Balls deep inside of you with his teeth latched onto the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, he wasn’t wasting a second. “Fuck, I missed this.” he grunted against your skin, tongue circling around the bite mark he’d left behind. “Tell me how you wan’ it, princess.” 
Your brain could barely form a sentence with how deep his cock was slamming into you. “I - mmmm – I want...” You trailed off at a particularly mean thrust, moaning out his name instead of actually answering his question. 
“Yeah? Right there?” Sukuna was in awe at the sound of your wet cunt stretching to fit him. You took him so well, and he missed this too much to be considered sane. “Wan’ me t’ fuck you like this?” 
As his large hand splayed across your abdomen, slightly pressing down so your walls tightened around him, his other hand reached up to grab your chin forcefully. “Yes! Yes like that!” You shouted as your eyes screwed shut. “S’ good, Ryo!” 
Sukuna grinned at the nickname – it had been so easy to pull it back out of you, to feel like things were back to normal. He leaned in close while his fingers pushed through your lips, tugging your mouth open for him. “That’s my good girl, y’like it like that?”  
You nodded fervently at him, wide eyes locking with his as he did the dirtiest thing you thought you’ve ever seen. Sukuna’s lips pursed for a moment before you could only watch as he spat into your open mouth. The wad of saliva landed on the flat of your tongue. 
And when you swallowed his spit, Sukuna swore his entire body shuddered with pleasure. “Shit, I knew you were dirty, princess.” He whispered before his lips crashed into yours, the collision almost painful until you felt his tongue inside your mouth, working to taste every bit of you.  
His hips moved at a faster pace after that, thrusting almost inhumanly to bring you to the edge of your orgasm. “Ryo, fuck, ‘m close!” You gasped out while your entire body began to go taut from the buildup. “’m gonna cum for you – hah – don't slow down!” 
“Not a fucking chance, baby.” Sukuna growled before repositioning to destroy you. He leaned back onto his knees as his hands found purchase around your hips to literally pull you towards him to meet his hips. God, his balls were aching with the need to fill you up, but with the way your walls were so tight and warm around him he needed to feel you first. “Go on, cum for me. Now.” 
Your orgasm crashed into you at full force, stars in your eyes while your back arched above the mattress to find some sort of relief to your muscles tightening. Sukuna audibly moaned at the sight – and he was so enamored that he almost missed the best part…
The sound of your pussy just gushing around him, clear fluid spurting from you and onto his abdomen. You would be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so fucking good. “Holy shit, princess.” Sukuna groaned as the reality of what just happened caused his dick to give one final thrust before his own release had his body shaking.  
You were still in the peak of your orgasm when you felt him filling you up, warmth spreading through your core as he continued to thrust his cum into you with each curse that left his lips. And when he collapsed on top of you, you were warm all over, still feeling his cock spasming within your cunt... and still cumming. 
“Are you still –” 
“Nngh yes.” Sukuna bit out before actually biting onto your shoulder as he rode that wave as long as possible. He didn’t remove himself, fully intent on plugging you full and not wasting a single drop.  
When he finally rolled onto his side next to you, the sound of labored breathing filled the silence. 
"Are you okay?" Sukuna's voice was soft, his words tinted with concern. After everything that you’d learned he just had to make sure – had to make sure that he didn’t fuck up again. 
"I'm okay," you whispered back, a gentle smile curving your lips. You understood the depth of his question, the genuine worry etched into the furrow of his brows, and it reassured you more than you could express. This wasn’t the same Sukuna you’d heard about, and you had no reason to fear him. 
As you both lay there, the room dimly lit by the moonlight beginning to spill through the window, a comfortable silence settled between you. Sukuna’s hand found yours under the sheets, his fingers intertwining with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.  
The night deepened around you, and your conversation drifted to lighter topics. You talked about everything and nothing – some drama at your work, something stupid that Gojo and Geto had gotten into, and even how much Sukuna missed you.  
Eventually, the talks began to slow as sleep tugged at the edges of your consciousness. Sukuna's voice became a soothing hum, his words blending into the quiet rustle of the sheets as you both shifted closer. His arm slipped around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace, the feeling of his chest rise and fall becoming your lullaby.  
"Thank you," he murmured into the quiet room, his voice low and filled with a warmth that vibrated softly in the dark. He wasn't entirely sure if you were still awake to hear his words. 
"For what?" came your drowsy reply, a gentle whisper that seemed to float in the still air between you. 
"For trying. For coming back to me," Sukuna said, his voice heavy with tiredness and the relief you brought him. 
He was silent for a moment, then leaned in to kiss the top of your head, a simple action that said all the things he couldn't put into words right now. "You earned it," you whispered back softly, and he swore he caught the slightest smirk on your face. 
As sleep began to pull him under, Sukuna's thoughts were calm and grateful. Lying there with you, he felt a peace he hadn't known in a long time. The journey here certainly hadn't been easy. It took a lot of talking and facing some hard truths about himself. Which usually, he fucking hated. 
But here you were, showing him that people can forgive, and things can get better. That made him want to make sure he never fucked up this second chance. As he drifted off, he made a quiet promise to himself to keep working on this, to keep you happy.
It was his only desire now – to see you smiling at him.  
In the soft, quiet comfort of the room, with your gentle breathing beside him, Sukuna felt hopeful. It was like all the broken pieces were starting to come back together, making something good and new. For the first time in forever, he felt content. 
⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊
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