#notice that I kept from making any sword jokes!

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope (Part 2/5)

(part 1) (part 3)

The next time you go hunting, the Bahrs go with you.

“It’s really fine,” you protest. It’s early enough in the morning that the air carries a bite. With any luck, they’ll think the redness in your cheeks comes from the chill rather than embarrassment. “I’m not even going far in. It’s Hera’s birthday coming up and she likes squirrel…”

“You’re going to catch a squirrel without a blade?” Mr. Bahr – Ivan – asks. He tightens the strap on Mrs. Bahr’s back, making sure the quiver of arrows is snug along her spine. He pats her shoulder when he finishes and beams at you. “Are you very fast?”

Yes, you are. You’ve noticed that you’re even faster lately as your 15th birthday marches closer and closer. You purse your lips. “I set traps.”

“Don’t mind him, Isla,” Mrs. Bahr -Marie -  says. She fondly shoves Ivan off the porch of the orphanage so she can get down. “He’s always joking.”

“What sort of traps?” Ivan asks. He runs a critical eye over your coat and pack. “Will that be warm enough?”

You’re not sure if your coat is warm enough for the weather or not. Another rising power: you’re nearly impervious to the cold. You shrug. “I’ll be fine. And just simple snares and stuff.”

“We can’t wait to see,” Ivan declares. He gestures towards the road. “Lead the way.”

You bite your lip. It’s clear that they knew you were going hunting today by their garb. Both are in sturdy, worn leather with swords on their hips and bows along their backs. They probably heard from Director Sarah and came specifically to make sure you kept your promise not to hunt alone. But… “The other kids will be sorry they missed you.”

“We’ll see them when we return victorious with birthday squirrels,” Ivan says.

“What a sentence,” Marie says dryly.

You aren’t going to convince them to let you go alone. You silently lead the way towards the orchard. Or, rather, as silently as you can. Ivan talks the whole time, asking questions about the apple trees and pointing to ducks flying overhead. You answer the questions you know the answer to and hum whenever you don’t. You wish you knew more about the vegetation, but the most you can tell Ivan is whether or not something is poisonous.

“Those ones,” you say, nodding to the low, circular leaves Mr. Bahr is pointing to, “are tricky. The real ones taste kind of sweet. The other kind that looks like that makes your stomach cramp for three days straight.”

“How can you tell the difference?” Ivan asks.

You shrug. “You can’t. I just tell the younger kids to bring it to me before eating it. Usually, I trade it for something actually edible.”

Marie, trailing behind you both, makes a noise of interest. “Usually?”

You feel your ears go hot. “Sometimes I’ll try it for them just to see if they can eat it. I’ve had enough of the bad one that it doesn’t affect me so much.”

“You try it?” Marie’s voice is sharp. “Isla, there has to be a better way.”

“Not really,” you say. You scratch the back of your head and quicken your step. You’re almost to the tree line of the woods. “The kids like sweet things. If I didn’t give in occasionally, they’d try it themselves. At least this way they check in with me first.”

“I still don’t think—”

“Sounds like Marie and I’ll be bringing some sweets along with us next time,” Ivan interrupts cheerfully. He points past the last apple tree about a dozen feet ahead. “Looks like the path ends there?”

“There’s an animal track about ten feet into the woods,” you say. You’re uncomfortable with Marie’s reaction. You know it’s not smart to eat poisonous plants, but what else were you supposed to do? Your worst fear is that the kids will one day get hungry enough to eat them without caring about the pain. Your shoulders round. “We’ll need to be quiet once we’re there.”

“I’m the best at being quiet,” Ivan says. He elbows Marie. “Right, Marie?”

“Right,” Marie says. Her voice is still a little strained, but you can tell she’s trying to hide it. “That’s why I married you.”

“That’s a lie,” Ivan says. He stage-whispers to you, “She married me for my amazingly dashing good looks.”

Marie huffs a laugh but doesn’t say anything else. You’ve entered the forest.

You were worried on the way that you’d need to tell Ivan that he needs to be quiet in the forest. You needn’t have been concerned. Both adults are silent and walk with quiet steps, their dark eyes alert on their surroundings. They move through the undergrowth gracefully, their years of experience showing in every step. You try to copy Marie’s soft footfalls as best you can and are pleased when your steps get a little quieter.

The Bahrs watch as you pick places for your traps. Ivan silently points to one of your knots, eyebrow raised. Guessing what he’s asking, you undo the knot and then redo it slowly. He nods in satisfaction and then gestures for you to give him the rope. Curiously, you do. Ivan completes the same knot, fingers steady through each step. When he’s done, he presents it to you proudly as if to say, See? I did it!

It makes you do something you very rarely do in the woods. You smile.

After setting the traps you take the Bahrs to your favorite resting spot. The clearing lies just by the edge of the shallow part of the river. About a mile downstream the banks widen and the North River joins this one, making it a dangerous place of rapids. Here, however, the water moves slowly and is shallow enough to be warmed by the sun.

Finally, you speak. “Shouldn’t be too long. Maybe an hour or two and then we can go check on them.”

“Is this where you found the horned rabbit?” Marie asks. You sit on a large, flat rock by the river, but she stays standing. Her eyes carefully scan the perimeter of the clearing.

“Not quite. That was near the hills.” You point. “Fifteen minutes that way.”

“That’s close,” Ivan says. He frowns, concerned. “Was that the first demon you’ve seen here?”

“No.” When the Bahrs turn to you in alarm, you shrug. “Not all the time, but demons come here. They’re usually not interested in me though.”

“But the horned rabbit was?” Marie asks.

Interested is an understatement. You’re not an idiot. You know that demons are dangerous. That’s why you usually avoid them when you spot them. Normally they’re content to let you pass by, but not the horned rabbit. It followed you nearly all the way back to the orchard before you realized you needed to do something before it attacked you. “Yeah.”

“What other types of demons do you see here?” Ivan asks. His voice is light, but he’s looking at you with a very serious expression. “Maybe howling bats?”

“I hear them sometimes,” you say, “but I don’t stick around after dark.” Ivan and Marie exchange dark looks. You fidget on the rock. “What?”

“This is protected land, Isla,” Marie says. She purses her lips. “No demons should be south of those hills.”

“What other types have you seen?” Ivan asks again. He comes to squat by you so he can look you in the eyes. “And when?”

“Just horned rabbits.”

“Are you sure?” Marie asks. She runs a hand over her hair, slicking back the fly aways. “Horned rabbits aren’t usually sighted alone.”

You hesitate. It’s true that the horned rabbits are the only demons you’ve seen, but… “There have been some signs lately, but I don’t know if they’re demons.”

Ivan’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“Wolves,” you say. Both Bahrs stiffen, hands going to their swords. You speak quickly. “But I’ve never seen them! They might be regular wolves. I found the tracks at the base of the hill, and some bones, but they were a week old probably.”

“We’ll need to ask the Lord to investigate,” Marie tells Ivan. She looks deeply unhappy. “The patrol doesn’t cover this far south.”

“An oversight,” Ivan says grimly. He reaches out absently and ruffles your hair. It startles you, but it feels nice. Ivan makes an effort to smile at you. “Good eyes, Isla. Is there anything else you’ve noticed changing in the forest lately? Even something not demon related?”

Something funny is happening in your chest. Good eyes, Isla. You wrack your brain for anything else. “I haven’t seen any other tracks or anything and there’s only been four or five horned rabbits this season.”

Marie makes a small noise in her throat. When you turn to look at her, she hides whatever expression she’d been making. “That’s a lot. Did you need to use your sharp stick on all of them?”

Ivan startles. “Sharp stick?”

You rub the back of you neck. “Just two.” You look up at the sky. You only had a sharp stick that day, but there are times when you’ve come out here with a knife. Knife days are for when you’re looking for bigger game.  “I’ve been pretty lucky hunting lately, now that I think about it. There’s been more deer and regular rabbits south of the river.”

“What do you mean ‘lately?’”

“The past month.”

Ivan and Marie exchange another long look. Before you can ask them what’s wrong, Ivan turns to you with another smile.

“Say,” he says, “what do you think about trying to bag something bigger than a squirrel today? You ever fire a bow before?”

Your eyes widen. “No.”

“You can use mine,” Marie says, pulling it from her shoulder. She holds it out to you. “We’re nearly the same height. The draw may be a bit heavy for you—or not.”

Embarrassed by the shock in her voice, you release the string. “I’m, uh, stronger than I look.”

“Good,” Ivan says. “That’ll make it easier to actually catch something today.”

The next few hours are the most fun you’ve ever had in the woods. Marie and Ivan go over every part of the bow with you, explaining the weight of it, the flexibility, the length. Marie and Ivan carry several different types of arrows with different tips, all good for different types of shooting. They let you practice on a tree across the river and each time you’re closer to hitting the center of it, they compliment how fast you’re learning, how accurate your eye, how steady and consistent your draw.

By the time they let you hunt with it, you feel like you’re walking on clouds.

The feeling lasts even after you return to the orphanage, a deer slung over Marie’s shoulders and your hands full of squirrel. There’s a pleasant ache in your back and arms from practicing with the bow. You can’t stop smiling. Everything Ivan says is out of the blue and Marie’s tired responses make it all funny.

At one point you’re walking behind them, watching their shoulders brush when the path gets a little too narrow. They’re smiling at each other and talking softly and for a wild, wonderful, awful moment, you imagine that you can keep this. You aren’t sure what this is. Their attention and their companionship, their gentle guidance and the way they speak to you like you’re an adult?

After Hera’s birthday dinner, the Bahrs stay extra late to help clean up and to spend time with the younger kids. You are still feeling a sort of bone deep happiness you’ve never felt before. Everyone is full and sleepy-eyed from the amount of food you were able to put on the table. The kids gather around their slates in the common area, learning a new type of drawing game from Ivan and Marie.

Hera comes up to where you’re leaning on the doorway. Quietly, she slips her hand into yours. You squeeze it.

“Thanks for the squirrel,” she says quietly.

You lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Happy Birthday.”

She hums and watches the fun in the living room for a long moment. She’s eleven now, three years older than you were that Winter. She’s the second oldest in the orphanage and, for the first time, you wonder if she feels the same sort of responsibility as you.

“I’m happy for you, you know,” Hera says.

You make a low questioning noise in your throat.

“The Bahrs will be good to you,” Hera says. She looks up at you evenly, a small smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. “You deserve that, Isla.”

Every muscle in your chest locks, chasing away the pleasant languidness you’d been feeling. “That’s not—they’re not—”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Hera says. She stands on tiptoe so she can throw her arms around your shoulders, hugging you like she did when she was five. She whispers in your ear, “But I would be happy if they did.”

She lets go of you before you can tell her she’s being ridiculous, skipping into the room to join the drawing game.

You feel out of sorts for the rest of the night.

-----------------------.

(part 1) (part 3)

Thanks for reading! The full story is already posted on my Patreon (X)! If you'd like to support me, please consider checking out my page!

This month will be seeing two main things update on Patreon first: Dandelion (x) and my Cinderella story (masterpost coming soon!) updates for both coming later this week!

[latanyalove]

I don't know if you do requests, but could I ask for a Mihawk x Rescued! Former slave! reader. Lets say she was saved when he tried to destroy Don krieg's battle ship, and she is brought to the mansion and make friends with Perona. But she tries to leave when she realizes she has feelings for him and she feels like dead weight. But he catches her trying to sneak out because he's Mihawk, duh.

Okay, but jokes aside, she gets corner by the baboons and Mihawk shows up and they skedaddle. And then flufffff

Thank you for bearing with me for this chonky request.

Stay

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Pairing: Dracule Mihawk x Y/N

Content: Trauma

A/n: This will probably be a series since I want to add pieces that will make it a better story. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! WC: <3

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In a tumultuous sea battle between the infamous swordsman, Dracule Mihawk, and the notorious pirate Don Krieg, a mysterious figure caught Mihawk's attention amidst the chaos. As Mihawk's blade clashed with Krieg's forces, he noticed a young woman, a former slave.

Her appearance was a stark contrast to the opulent attire and extravagant weapons of the pirates. Yet, despite her disheveled appearance, there was an air of resilience about her. Mihawk couldn't help but be intrigued by this woman, wondering what hardships she had endured and what secrets she held within her.

Unexpectedly, her eyes met his from that far distance, and Mihawk felt himself freeze for a second, captivated by the intensity and determination he saw within her gaze.

He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this young woman than met the eye, and he vowed to uncover the secrets she held, even if it meant venturing into uncharted territories.

"Hey! Focus on me!" Don Krieg yelled, releasing at least a hundred missiles at Mihawk.

With a swift movement, Mihawk deflected the bombs with his sword, effortlessly dodging the explosions. He knew he had to concentrate on the battle at hand, but the image of the mysterious woman lingered in the back of his mind, fueling his curiosity.

As Mihawk engaged in a fierce duel with Don Krieg, his sword danced through the chaos, effortlessly parrying each strike with calculated precision. The clash of steel reverberated through the air, echoing the intensity of their struggle.

Mihawk's focus remained unwavering, yet his thoughts kept drifting back to the enigmatic woman, her presence adding an element of intrigue to the already tumultuous battle.

After swiftly dispatching Don Krieg and his forces, Mihawk turned his gaze towards where the young woman had stood, only to find an empty space devoid of any trace of her.

"Where did you go?" He muttered to himself, placing his sword into his scabbard. . . .

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Why is Dracule Mihawk here?! You thought finding cover behind a tree to catch your breath would provide a momentary respite from the chaos. You leaned against the trunk to feel the pointy edges against your back, confirming that this wasn't a dream.

The only time that the ship stopped on land was because of the best swordsman in the world. What luck did you have?

"It's okay," you reassured yourself, "All you have to do is wait it out and run somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's away from here."

"Where are you supposed to run to when it is an isolated island?"

You jumped at the voice behind you and quickly turned around to see Dracule Mihawk sizing you up. His piercing gaze bore into your soul, as if trying to unravel the mysteries hidden within. The thought of running away vanished as you realized that escape was futile in the presence of the world's greatest swordsman.

As he continued to study you, you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his interest in you than mere curiosity.

"What do you want from me?" you muttered, fear gripping your voice.

The intensity of Mihawk's gaze only deepened as he leaned closer, his words cutting through the tension-filled air, "You're different. There's something about you that intrigues me."

"Are- Are you going to kill me?"

"Why would I? You do not pose a threat towards me," Mihawk answered, taking a small cautious step towards you. "Do you?"

"No!" you blurted out, your voice trembling with fear and confusion. Mihawk's gaze softened slightly as he observed your reaction, a hint of curiosity still lingering in his eyes.

"Good," he said before turning around and walking away, leaving you standing there, still shaken from the encounter. His departure only deepened the mystery surrounding his interest in you, leaving you to ponder the true intentions of the world's greatest swordsman.

As you tried to make sense of Dracule Mihawk's presence on the isolated island, a realization struck you - he must have arrived by some means other than the sinking ship. Perhaps he possessed his own means of transportation.

"Wait!" you yelled, trying to stand up, but your legs felt weak and shaky. Mihawk glanced back briefly, his gaze filled with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

"Is there a way off this island? Can you help me escape?" you asked, desperation evident in your voice.

Mihawk fully turned around and said, "I have my boat, but it won't be easy. The waters surrounding this island are treacherous, and only a skilled navigator like myself can navigate them safely. If you're willing to take the risk, I can help you escape."

With a glimmer of hope in your eyes, you gather all your courage and reply, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get off this island. Please, I'll do anything."

Mihawk replied, his voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction, "Very well. In that case, prepare yourself. Our journey off this island begins now."

Without wasting a moment, you quickly stood up and followed Mihawk, determined to seize this opportunity for freedom.

The anticipation of what lay ahead filled your heart with a mix of excitement and trepidation, as you embarked on a perilous journey alongside the enigmatic swordsman. . . .

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"This is your ship?" you asked, shocked to see the small ship that Mihawk owned. It was nothing like you had imagined, but you didn't have time to dwell on it as Mihawk gestured for you to come aboard.

"This ship may be small, but it's fast and maneuverable," Mihawk explained. "It was originally designed for one person, but I'll made an exception for you. We'll need to make some adjustments to accommodate both of us, but it should suffice for our journey off this island."

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt as you continued to stare at the small ship. It seemed inconceivable that such a modest vessel could withstand the treacherous waters surrounding the island.

Nevertheless, you pushed aside your reservations and reminded yourself that Mihawk was regarded as the world's greatest swordsman for a reason.

You stepped onto the ship and made your way to the back, settling into a small space that had been cleared for you. Mihawk, on the other hand, took his place on the main seat at the front, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

As the ship began to move, you couldn't help but feel a combination of nervousness and anticipation, wondering what awaited you beyond the treacherous waters.

You decided to make yourself as small as possible, curling up in a corner to not take up any space. The gentle rocking of the ship and the soothing sound of the water soon had a calming effect on you, lulling you into a deep sleep.

It was the first time that you had slept for so long without any interruptions.

Either it was because you had to change shifts with another slave or a guard thought that you were too comfortable and decided to give you a massage which left you many bruises on your back.

Though you woke up to the sound of the ground crunching beneath you, you realized with a start that you were no longer on the ship.

You opened your eyes to see that you were being carried by someone. Panic surged through you as you frantically looked around, trying to make sense of your surroundings. It was then that you noticed the familiar face of Mihawk, his expression unreadable as he effortlessly held you in his arms.

"Calm down," Mihawk muttered, his voice soothing and reassuring. "We've reached our destination. You fell asleep on the ship, so I carried you off. We're safe now."

You looked at where they were heading and saw a huge dark castle in the distance, its towering spires piercing the night sky. The sight sent shivers down your spine, as you couldn't help but wonder what mysteries and dangers awaited you within those ominous walls.

"What is that?"

"That's my house," Mihawk said casually, as if mentioning that he owned a small cottage by the seaside.

You couldn't believe your ears as you stared at the imposing castle, realizing that you had just stepped into the lair of the world's greatest swordsman.

"Why are we at your house?"

"Because you need to get bandaged up and I need to rest," Mihawk replied, his eyes scanning the castle's surroundings for potential threats.

"My house is equipped with everything we need to tend to our wounds and recover. Plus, it's the safest place for us right now."

You kept quiet as you saw the castle get bigger and closer, the sense of foreboding intensifying with each step. The eerie silence that enveloped the surroundings only added to your unease, making you question the true nature of Mihawk's "house" and what secrets it held within its walls.

"We're here," he said in a very nonchalantly tone.

As you looked around, you noticed the thick iron door of the castle slowly creaking open, revealing a grand entrance that seemed to lead into the heart of darkness.

Your heart raced with a mixture of fear and curiosity, wondering what awaited you on the other side.

As you entered the castle, the lights switched on by themselves, illuminating the grandeur of the place. The flickering candlelight danced off the intricate tapestries and ancient suits of armor, creating an eerie yet mesmerizing atmosphere. It was clear that this was no ordinary home, but a place steeped in history and power.

"Mihawk! Why are you back so early!" a voice came from inside the castle, echoing through the grand halls. You followed Mihawk's gaze and saw a figure emerging from the shadows, their eyes filled with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

The figure that emerged from the shadows was a woman. With her signature pink hair and a frilly black dress, she exuded an air of both elegance and mischief.

Her wide eyes sparkled with curiosity as she took in the sight of you in Mihawk's arms, clearly intrigued by your presence in their mysterious castle.

"Perona, this is our guest for now, treat her with respect," Mihawk stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Perona's eyes widened even further as she assessed you, her curiosity turning into a mischievous smile.

"Oh, how delightful! A new playmate," she exclaimed, her voice dripping with excitement and a touch of malice.

As you tried to process Perona's words, you felt a chilling breeze on your back. Startled, you turned around and to your astonishment, you found yourself being held by a translucent, ghost-like figure instead of Mihawk.

The figure's eyes glowed with an ethereal light as it floated effortlessly, its presence sending a shiver down your spine.

"Come along!" Perona said excitedly, also floating and headed upstairs, her frilly black dress billowing around her.

Reluctantly, you followed Perona, your eyes fixed on the ghostly figure that carried you. Its ethereal presence seemed to be bound to Perona, as if it were her loyal companion in this eerie castle.

As you ascended the stairs, you stole a quick glance down to the first floor, where you had caught a glimpse of Mihawk before. However, to your surprise, Mihawk was nowhere to be seen.

It was as if he had vanished into thin air, leaving you alone with Perona and the mysterious ghostly figure. The air grew colder, and a sense of unease settled over you as you continued to follow Perona deeper into the heart of the castle.

"What's your name?" Perona asked, floating closer to you with a mischievous grin. Her pink hair seemed to glow in the dim light of the castle as she eagerly awaited your response.

"My name is Y/N," you replied, feeling a mixture of apprehension.

"Y/N? That's such a good name," Perona complimented as she continued to float, leading you deeper into the castle. The ghostly figure holding you seemed to emit an eerie glow, its presence becoming increasingly unsettling as you ventured further into the unknown.

Perona finally stopped in front of a door and quickly opened it, getting inside. The ghostly figure followed suit, its ethereal form gliding into the room.

As you stepped into the room, you were immediately captivated by its opulence. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries, and the furniture was ornately carved with delicate details.

The room was filled with plush cushions, silk curtains, and a grand canopy bed fit for a princess. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the space, casting a warm and inviting ambiance. It was as if you had stepped into a fairytale, and for a moment, you forgot the eerie presence that had brought you here.

"This is my bedroom," Perona said as the ghost placed you on the edge of her bed.

"It's really nice," you said, speechless of the sight of the room.

Perona chuckled, her mischievous grin widening. "Now let's get you a bath and some new clothes, the ragged look does not fit you," she joked, gesturing towards a luxurious en-suite bathroom.

The thought of a warm bath and fresh attire was tempting, but you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that lingered in the air.

As you tried to stand up, your legs did not cooperate with you and started to make you fall. Panic surged through you as you grasped for something to hold onto, but all you could grasp was thin air.

Luckily, Perona was beside you and was able to catch you in time, preventing you from falling to the ground. She held onto you, her ethereal grip providing a surprisingly strong support, and helped you regain your balance.

"Are you okay?" Perona panicked, concern evident in her voice as she held onto you tightly.

"Yeah, I'm alright," you muttered, trying to downplay your momentary loss of balance. But deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was seriously wrong with your body.

"Let's get you a bath now, maybe that will make you feel better," Perona suggested, guiding you to the bathroom.

The bathroom was an extension of the opulence that permeated the rest of the room. Marble countertops, gilded fixtures, and a large clawfoot bathtub took center stage, surrounded by intricate tilework and a crystal chandelier that sparkled overhead.

Perona guided you into the bath with utmost care, ensuring that you were comfortable every step of the way. She adjusted the water temperature to your liking and gently helped you settle into the luxurious clawfoot bathtub, making sure you were fully supported.

As the warm water enveloped your body, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and gratitude for Perona's kind and attentive nature.

Unable to take the silence anymore, you decided to make a joke.

"Is this how you treat all your guests?" you joked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you hugged your knees close to you.

"Actually, you're our first guest," Perona said, kneeling beside the bathtub. "But I must say, you're making quite the impression already. We've been waiting for someone like you for a long time."

"What do you mean?" you asked curiously, facing Perona.

"You see, that old man Mihawk has been so lonely for all his life, it was time that he had some love in his life," Perona explained, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and affection.

"What do you mean?" you said, feeling your face heat up at her words, unsure if you had heard her correctly. Perona's eyes softened as she looked at you, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Mihawk has been searching for a companion, someone to share his life with. And it seems like fate has brought you to us."

"That can't be," you protested, your voice trembling with uncertainty. "He only brought me here because he pitied me since I was the survivor of the fight that he was in. I can't be the companion he's looking for."

Perona's expression remained gentle as she reached out to touch your hand. "Believe me, it's more than just pity," she reassured you. "Mihawk sees something special in you, something that goes beyond mere circumstance."

You kept quiet, thinking deeply about what she said. Did the greatest swordsman in the world really think that about you? Fall in love with a small peasant? No way.

"Let's get you clean first," Perona said, getting the shampoo and rubbing your hair, getting the dirt out.

As she continued to wash your hair, she whispered, "You may doubt it now, but Mihawk's feelings for you are genuine. He sees in you a strength and resilience that he admires, and that's why he brought you here."

As Perona continued to massage your hair, her gentle touch and the soothing sound of the water made you feel incredibly relaxed. Despite your doubts, the weight of the day started to lift off your shoulders, and you couldn't help but feel yourself drifting off to sleep in her caring hands.

"Y/N, Y/N?"

You quickly straightened your back and looked at Perona, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "Yes Perona," you said softly.

"I'm done washing your hair, is my massaging that good?" Perona teased, standing up to stretch her legs and arms.

You blushed and smiled at Perona's playful comment. "Yes, Perona, your massaging is amazing. I've never felt so relaxed before," you admitted, feeling grateful for her presence and the unexpected turn your life had taken.

"My treatment isn't over yet, you need new clothes," Perona said excitedly, running out of the bathroom to find some clothes that would fit you properly.

As you watched her leave, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation filled your heart, wondering what other surprises this new chapter of your life would bring.

Slowly, you got out of the bath and walked over to where the towels were hung from. As you dried yourself, something caught your eye in the mirror; it was your back.

It was a painful reminder of the abuse you had endured throughout your life. The scars crisscrossed your back, telling stories of pain and suffering. As you stared at your reflection, you felt disgust and guilt fill your heart.

How was Perona not disgusted by you? How could you show that to her? She must have pitied me as well.

"Hey Y/N, are you okay?" Perona asked, her reflection showing in the mirror as well, standing at the doorway. She looked at you with genuine concern in her eyes, her expression filled with empathy and understanding.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said, quickly covering your back with the towel. You didn't want Perona to see the scars and be burdened with your past.

"I've got your outfits ready," Perona informed, her voice filled with excitement. "I picked out some clothes that I think you'll love."

You nodded, walking out of the bathroom and seeing the different outfits on the racks. Perona's taste in fashion was impeccable, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you imagined yourself wearing the carefully selected clothes.

Though all of the outfits were dresses, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. As someone who has always been in pants and shirts, you wondered if Perona truly understood your personal style.

Nevertheless, you decided to give the dresses a chance and hoped that they would make you feel as confident and beautiful as Perona saw you.

"Sorry, all I have are dresses."

"It's okay," you assured, taking the first dress and going back to the bathroom.

When you properly looked at the dress, you realized that this was a bad idea. It was a style that you would never choose for yourself. Maybe it was because you are only able to wear one set of clothes - too frilly, too feminine, and completely foreign to you.

But Perona had put so much thought and effort into selecting these outfits for you that you decided to suck it up and wear the dress. You wanted to show her that you appreciated her gesture and were willing to step outside of your comfort zone for her.

Plus, who knows, maybe trying something new could be a positive change for you.

As you looked into the mirror, you couldn't help but feel a sense of shock at the person staring back at you. The dress completely transformed your appearance, making you almost unrecognizable to yourself.

Despite your initial hesitation, you took a deep breath and reminded yourself that sometimes stepping outside of your comfort zone can lead to unexpected growth and self-discovery.

You walked out of the bathroom and immediately looked at Perona for her reaction. Her eyes widened as she took in your appearance, and a wide smile spread across her face. "You look absolutely stunning!" she exclaimed, her excitement evident in her voice.

"Thank you," you replied shyly, grateful for Perona's kind words and validation.

"This is why we need to show you off to Mihawk," Perona stated happily, her eyes gleaming with excitement. You couldn't help but blush at her words, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation building up inside you.

Lost in your own thoughts and the rush of confidence from trying something new, you were so absorbed in your own bubble of happiness that you didn't even hear Perona's statement about showing you off to Mihawk.

Then you felt as if you had been picked up again by someone.

Startled, you turned your head to the side and made eye contact with the ghost, who had picked you up once again.

"Let's go," Perona smiled, floating again and led the way. You clung onto the ghost, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity as you followed her through the halls, eager to see where this unexpected journey would take you.

As you followed Perona through the halls, you couldn't help but admire the grandeur of Mihawk's mansion. The elegant decor and intricate artwork displayed in every corner showcased his impeccable taste.

It didn't take long for Perona to lead you to Mihawk's study room, and as you entered, you were immediately struck by the air of wisdom and power that seemed to emanate from the room.

Mihawk seemed oblivious to your presence, deeply engrossed in the book he was reading. His intense focus and the way he furrowed his brows as he turned the pages only added to his mysterious aura.

"Mihawk, I brought Y/N here," Perona said with a hint of pride in her voice, gesturing towards you. "Doesn't she look stunning?" she exclaimed, treating you as if you were a prized possession on display.

When Mihawk looked up from his book, the both of you had immediate eye contact, and his eyes widened in astonishment at the sight of you.

It was as if time stood still for a moment, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze as he took in your transformed appearance.

Did he not like your dress? Did he not like you getting too close to Perona?

"Perona, can you leave the two of us alone?" Mihawk ordered, his gaze never leaving yours.

Perona then whispered, "Good luck, even though you might not need it. Mihawk has never shown such interest in anyone before. You must have made quite an impression."

Perona nodded and floated out of the room, leaving you alone with the enigmatic swordsman.

The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, and you couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were running through his mind.

"Come sit here," he said, gesturing to the chair beside him.

As the ghost moved, it gently dropped you onto the chair beside Mihawk. You sat in the seat, trying to steady your nerves as you waited for him to speak. The silence in the room was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and uncertainty about what was to come.

Even as you tried to settle into the chair, Mihawk's piercing gaze never wavered.

"Is there something wrong with your legs?"

You turned to him in surprise, your eyes widening at the unexpected question. "No, nothing's wrong with my legs," you replied, slightly puzzled. "Why do you ask?"

"Perona's ghost carried you all the way here,"

"I tripped once and Perona was overreacting by making me get carried," you explained, hoping to alleviate any concerns he might have had.

Mihawk's expression softened ever so slightly as he nodded. "I see," he responded, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

The awkward silence hung in the air, amplifying the tension between you and Mihawk. You wondered if there was something more he wanted to say, or if he was simply contemplating the situation. Either way, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anxiety and anticipation as you waited for him to break the silence.

"You look beautiful by the way," Mihawk said, finally breaking the silence. His compliment caught you off guard, and a blush crept onto your cheeks.

"Thank you," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. The sincerity in Mihawk's words sent a wave of warmth through your body, calming your nerves slightly.

"Do you want to stay here?" Mihawk asked, his piercing gaze still fixed on you.

The question caught you off guard once again, and you found yourself searching for the right words to respond, unsure of what staying in this enigmatic swordsman's presence would entail.

"I like it here, but I don't want to intrude," you said, hesitatingly. The words escaped your lips as you tried to convey your mixed feelings of both comfort and reservation in Mihawk's presence.

"You are not intruding at all," Mihawk started, his voice calm and reassuring. "Perona seems to like you, so you can stay as long as you like." The weight of his words lifted some of the uncertainty from your shoulders, allowing you to relax a little more in his presence.

"I- I can stay?" you said, looking at him with surprise, the words escaping your lips before you could fully process them.

Mihawk was surprised by the sudden eye contact but quickly regained his composure and looked back at his book, nodding. It seemed like he was trying to regain his composure and maintain his usual stoic demeanor.

"Thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude and a hint of relief. The permission to stay in Mihawk's presence felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and acceptance in his words.

"Do you like dresses?" he asked, not lifting his eyes off his book. His question caught you off guard again, and you hesitated for a moment before responding, "Well this is my first time wearing something other than ripped clothes. Why do you ask?"

"We can go shopping after you recover, if you'd like," Mihawk suggested, his eyes finally meeting yours.

"I appreciate the offer, but I feel like I would be using you if I accepted. I don't want to burden you or take advantage of your kindness," you said, your voice filled with sincerity and concern.

"You're not burdening me at all," Mihawk reassured, his gaze unwavering. "Helping you is my choice."

"You're very generous," you said, overwhelmed by Mihawk's kindness. The offer to go shopping after your recovery was unexpected, and you couldn't help but feel touched by his willingness to help.

"I understand that nothing can repair all you have gone through," Mihawk replied, his voice filled with empathy.

"You have no idea how much this means to me," you replied, tears welling up in your eyes. "To have someone like you, someone who understands, by my side... I can't thank you enough."

As Mihawk was about to reply, the door opened dramatically and revealed Perona, who had a mischievous smile on her face. "Oh, sorry for interrupting your conversation!" she exclaimed, causing both of you to turn towards her in surprise.

Startled by the sudden movement, you jumped in your seat, your heart racing.

"What do you want?" Mihawk muttered, a sign of anger showing in his tone. His interruption was abrupt, and his gaze shifted from Perona to you, as if silently asking if you were okay.

Perona's mischievous smile grew wider as she said, "I just wanted to let you two know that dinner is ready."

Mihawk sighed and glanced at you apologetically before turning his attention back to Perona. "Thank you for letting us know, Perona. We'll be there shortly," he responded, his voice calm but still carrying a hint of frustration.

Perona nodded, chuckling mischievously before floating away, leaving you and Mihawk alone once again. You took a deep breath, grateful for the brief interruption that allowed your racing heart to calm down.

"Can you walk?" Mihawk asked, placing his book on his desk.

"Yes, I can walk," you replied, relieved that your momentary panic hadn't caused any physical limitations. Mihawk nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Good," he said, standing up from his chair. "Shall we head to dinner then?"

"Yes," you said, standing up as well, and you followed Mihawk out of the room, feeling a sense of comfort knowing that he was there to support you.

As you continued to follow him from behind, it reminded you of your life just a few hours ago.

When walking was not a choice at times but a command enforced by cruel guards who would yell, "Walk faster!" while pulling the chains that were wrapped around the necks and arms of the slaves.

You were only able to answer with a 'Yes Master' or a 'Yes sir'. Other than those two, you would be severely punished depending on who heard your wrong answer.

Unfortunately you were a slave that was passed across many ships for all of their lives and you weren't familiar with that rule yet. Your last ship made you do everything in silence, even cry in silence that you even thought you had lost your voice.

The punishment you had to endure in Don Krieg's ship was indescribable. From physical beatings to starvation and isolation, every day was filled with unimaginable pain and suffering.

It was a constant battle for survival, and the fear of making a single mistake haunted your every move.

"Are you coming?" a voice said, making you jump.

Without thinking, you answered with "yes master," your conditioned response from years of slavery.

But as the words left your mouth, you quickly realized where you were and who you were with. The weight of your past life lingered in that moment, reminding you of the scars that still remained, even if they weren't visible.

You quickly corrected yourself, realizing that you were no longer in that dark place. The presence of Mihawk and the safety of his house provided a stark contrast to the horrors you had endured.

His eyes filled with concern as he noticed your sudden startle. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized, extending a hand towards you.

"No, I'm sorry, I should have paid more attention," you said, shaking your head.

The memories of your past sometimes still caught you off guard, but being in Mihawk's presence helped ease the lingering pain.

Feeling a sense of comfort, you slowly wrapped your hand around his arm, finding solace in his presence. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes of the trust that was slowly growing between the two of you, helping to heal the wounds of your past.

As you continued to walk in silence, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the freedom you now had. Each step forward was a reminder of how far you had come from the days of bondage and suffering.

Finally, after walking in silence for a few more minutes, you and Mihawk reached the dining room. The sight of the beautifully set table and the aroma of the delicious meal filled the air, instantly making your stomach grumble with anticipation.

As you approached the dining room, Mihawk graciously pulled out the chair on his right side for you. Gratefully, you settled into your seat, ready to indulge in the nourishing meal before you.

Perona then floated in from the kitchen and sat in front of you, her mischievous smile lighting up the room. "I hope you're hungry," she said playfully, her ghostly form exuding an air of excitement.

It was clear that she had put her heart into preparing this meal, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging in this newfound family.

"Let's dig in, Itadakimasu!" Perona said, sitting down. The words marked the beginning of a joyful feast, as you and Mihawk joined her at the table, savoring the delicious food.

You couldn't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment as you stared at the unfamiliar cutlery in front of you. Forks and knives were foreign objects to you, as you had never used them before.

"What's your dominant hand?"

"Huh," you said, looking at Mihawk. "I'm actually ambidextrous, so I can use either hand."

Mihawk chuckled softly, reaching across the table to hand you a fork. "Well, I guess it's time to learn something new," he said.

You took the fork and stared at it, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. As you held it in your hand, Mihawk leaned in and gently guided you through the proper way to hold and use it, patiently teaching you the art of dining with cutlery.

As you held the fork for the first time, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unfamiliarity and anticipation. The smooth metal against your fingertips felt foreign yet strangely empowering.

With your heart pounding, you cautiously brought the fork to your lips, trying to mimic Mihawk's guidance.

You fumbled with the fork a few times, dropping food and feeling your face flush with embarrassment. Mihawk and Perona, however, remained patient and encouraging, assuring you that it was completely normal to struggle at first. With each failed attempt, he offered gentle guidance and reassurance, reminding you that learning something new takes time and practice.

With a cautious grip, you tentatively speared a piece of food and raised it to your lips. As the flavors mingled on your tongue, you couldn't help but smile at the small triumph of mastering this new skill, savoring not only the taste of the meal but also the sense of accomplishment that came with it.

You looked at Mihawk in shock, and you could see the slightest smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was as if he had anticipated your reaction and took joy in witnessing your triumph over the unfamiliarity of using cutlery.

"You're a quick learner," Mihawk said with a proud glint in his eyes, rewarding your efforts with a nod of approval.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a sense of gratitude for Mihawk's patient guidance.

You started to eat, savoring each bite and enjoying the newfound skill of using cutlery. As you looked up, you noticed Perona's gaze fixed on the two of you, her eyes shining with happiness.

"What is it?" Mihawk asked, also noticing Peroma's staring.

"It's- It's nothing!" Perona replied, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be engrossed in her meal once again.

You found Perona's reaction endearing, her blush adding to the charm of the moment. However, Mihawk scoffed, dismissing her behavior as nothing more than a triviality, before taking a sip of his wine and returning his attention to his meal.

You couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind, but you decided to focus on enjoying the rest of the meal and savoring the newfound skill of using cutlery.

What would she think if she saw me now? In a fancy dress, at a fancy castle and with fancy people.

You smiled sadly at the thought, knowing that she would never have the opportunity to witness this moment. Her absence was a constant ache in your heart, but you took solace in the fact that you were carrying a piece of her with you, her spirit guiding you through each small triumph and reminding you to cherish every moment.

Mihawk had noticed the sadness behind your smile, but his silence on the matter only deepened the mystery of his thoughts.

The fancy castle exuded an air of grandeur and opulence, with its towering walls adorned with intricate tapestries and sparkling chandeliers illuminating the exquisite dining hall.

The dining hall was a breathtaking sight, with its grand chandeliers casting a dazzling array of light that danced off the polished silverware and fine china.

The walls, adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes of ancient battles and noble conquests, added an air of regality to the already opulent space. As you took in the surroundings, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and privilege to be in such a luxurious setting.

"So what are we doing tomorrow?" Perona asked curiously, breaking the silence that had settled over the table.

Her question brought you back to the present moment, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you thought about the adventures that awaited the next day.

"I will be going out to meet up with someone," Mihawk stated, taking another sip of his wine. His cryptic response piqued your curiosity, leaving you wondering who he was meeting and what plans he had in store.

"Who?" Perona asked, her eyes filled with curiosity as she awaited Mihawk's answer.

"That is none of your business," Mihawk answered, his tone curt and final.

The air around the table grew tense as Perona's curiosity clashed with Mihawk's guarded demeanor, leaving you caught in the middle, torn between wanting to know the answer and respecting Mihawk's privacy.

"Oh well, that means the house is all to us," Perona cheered to you, her excitement palpable.

You couldn't help but smile, grateful for her lightheartedness in the midst of the tension. It was a reminder that even in moments of uncertainty, there was still joy to be found.

As the evening wore on, you and Perona continued to share stories from your past, exchanging tales of adventure and hardship. Mihawk remained a silent but attentive presence, his gaze fixed on you both as he listened intently to every word.

It was a rare moment of vulnerability and connection, as you realized that despite his guarded demeanor, Mihawk was genuinely interested in getting to know you on a deeper level.

It would not be too difficult for you to get used to this, you thought to yourself. . . .

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You woke up trapped on a slave ship, embarking on a harrowing journey of torture and suffering. As you lay restlessly in your sleep, you found yourself waking up in a familiar place.

It was a dark and damp room, with shackles tightly binding your ankles and wrists. Panic consumed you as you realized you were a prisoner on a slave ship.

As you slowly regained consciousness, you noticed a group of guards surrounding you. They were cruel and merciless, their faces etched with twisted desires. Each guard carried a whip, which they eagerly used to inflict unimaginable pain upon your flesh.

So it was a dream, you thought sadly, remembering the feeling of being in a majestic dress in a castle with Mihawk and Perona.

As you got up to the yelling of the guards, you realized that the dream was just a temporary escape from the harsh reality of your situation. The pain in your limbs and the stench of the ship's hold reminded you that you were still a captive, desperate for freedom.

The guards showed no mercy as they tormented you. They would strike you with whips, leaving welts upon your body. The whips were adorned with sharp metal spikes, causing excruciating pain with every lash. The guards laughed and taunted you, reveling in your suffering.

It became clear that the guards' sadistic pleasure was their primary objective. They enjoyed inflicting pain purely for their own amusement. Their laughter echoed through the ship, reminding you of your helplessness.

As the days turned into weeks, the slave ship continued on its journey. The stench of sweat and fear filled the air. The guards kept us confined in cramped, unsanitary conditions. We were subjected to constant hunger and thirst, our bodies ravaged by disease and malnutrition.

Your suffering was unrelenting and, as we sailed further, our despair only grew stronger. . . .

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You woke up sweating profusely from the nightmare, your heart pounding in your chest. The vividness of the dream left you shaken, unable to shake off the feeling of despair and hopelessness that had consumed you from your nightmare.

You looked around and saw you were in a fancy yet empty room. The grandeur of the furnishings contrasted sharply with the emptiness of the space, leaving you with a sense of eerie solitude.

The silence was deafening, and you couldn't help but question whether this was another illusion, or if there was a glimmer of hope for escape after all.

You remembered how Perona showed you to this guest room last night, assuring you it would be a safe place to rest and you could decorate it later.

You then slowly got up from your bed and made your way to the door as you walked slowly. As you turned the handle, a rush of anticipation filled your veins. The creaking of the door echoed through the empty hallway, and you cautiously stepped outside, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the deserted grounds. The stillness of the night was unsettling, as if the whole world was holding its breath in anticipation. The moon cast an ethereal glow on the desolate landscape, illuminating the path ahead.

The late hour meant that Perona was likely to be asleep but you were unsure of Mihawk. You weren't able to identify any sleepiness from him during dinner unlike Perona, who was complaining about how she needed her beauty sleep for one hour until you volunteered to wash the dishes for her.

As you tiptoed down the corridor, every step was carefully calculated to avoid making any noise. The silence enveloped you, amplifying the sound of your own breathing.

You knew that any sudden noise could alert Mihawk to your presence, and the consequences of being caught were too dire to contemplate.

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the faint sound of footsteps echoing from downstairs.

Your mind raced with possibilities, wondering who could be roaming the house at this hour. Could it be Perona, unable to sleep and wandering aimlessly? Or perhaps it was Mihawk, patrolling the premises to ensure the safety of his guests.

The unknown nature of the situation only heightened your anxiety, and you knew that you had to proceed with extreme caution.

Despite knowing that it was wrong, your curiosity got the better of you, and you couldn't resist the urge to explore the castle further. The allure of the unknown beckoned you, and you silently made your way towards the source of the footsteps, determined to uncover the secrets that lay hidden within the walls.

You made it to the grand staircase without any disturbance, its grandeur and elegance captivating you as you ascended each step. The soft moonlight streaming through the stained glass windows added an ethereal touch to the scene, casting colorful patterns on the marble floor below.

As you walked down the stairs, the footsteps grew louder, echoing through the empty hallways. The sound resonated with an eerie intensity, sending shivers down your spine and intensifying your sense of unease.

When you reached the end of the stairs, a figure emerged from the shadows, completely unaware of your presence. Their footsteps faltered for a moment as they glanced around, their eyes scanning the surroundings with a mixture of caution and curiosity.

The figure standing before you was none other than the legendary swordsman, Dracule Mihawk. Clad in his signature black attire, Mihawk exuded an aura of mystery and power. His long, flowing black hair framed his chiseled face, accentuating his piercing, hawk-like eyes that seemed to hold a depth of knowledge and experience beyond measure.

The sharp angles of his jawline and the confident set of his shoulders portrayed a man who was both formidable and unyielding. As he moved with grace and precision, his black cape billowed behind him, adding an air of elegance and drama to his every step.

It was clear that this was a man who commanded respect and demanded attention wherever he went.

You had always heard stories of Mihawk's fearsome reputation and his unmatched swordsmanship, but now, as you looked at him up close, you couldn't help but notice his striking features.

His sharp eyes softened as they met yours, revealing a glimmer of curiosity.

The harsh lines of his face seemed to soften, revealing a hidden attractiveness that you had never noticed before. Despite the air of mystery and power that surrounded him, you couldn't help but find yourself drawn to his handsome and enigmatic presence.

"Y/N, what are you doing awake so late?" Mihawk asked as he fully faced you, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and concern. His piercing gaze remained fixed on you, as if trying to unravel the mystery behind your presence in his grand mansion.

You stumbled for words, caught off guard by his sudden attention, unsure whether to reveal the truth or come up with a plausible excuse.

Finally, you mustered the courage to respond, "I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't resist the allure of exploring this magnificent place."

Mihawk's gaze lingered on you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Curiosity can be a dangerous thing," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a hint of warning.

"I understand the risks," you replied, meeting Mihawk's gaze with determination.

Mihawk nodded before gesturing you to come over, "Y/N, come here," he said, his voice holding a touch of intrigue. As you stepped closer to him, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with apprehension. What could he possibly want with you?

As you got close enough, Mihawk slowly reached for your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His grip was firm yet gentle, as if he held something precious.

"I'll be back before tomorrow evening, but if you have any problems, just call me on this," he whispered, his voice tinged with a hint of reassurance.

As he released your hand, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty filled the air. With the Transponder Snail now in your possession, you couldn't help but wonder what awaited you in the coming hours.

You watched as Mihawk opened the door, said goodbye before walking into the forest. The sound of his footsteps faded into the distance, leaving you standing there, holding the Transponder Snail in your hand, filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation about the adventures that lay ahead.

Feeling tired, you closed the door and headed back to bed, placing the Transponder Snail on the desk close by.

The events of the evening replayed in your mind, and as sleep finally claimed you, you couldn't help but wonder where Mihawk was going, and how you would be involved. . . .

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"Good afternoon Hawkeyes Mihawk, what honour do I have for you to be here today?"

"I have something that might interest you, Garp."

"And what might that be?"

"Have you ever heard of a devil fruit that allows the user to control its own aura and even the aura from other living beings?"

"No, I haven't. Tell me more," Garp replied, his curiosity piqued. . . .

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Part 2?

[howlingday]

Jaune's Shampoo

Teryx

"DAMMIT, NORA!" Jaune opened his shower door. As he exited, he noticed his body had drastically changed. Using a mixture of his shampoo and experimental goo found at the fiendish Dr. Merlot's laboratory, Nora had unwittingly created a mutagen just to prank her team leader.

Jaune shuddered a bit as everything suddenly felt very warm. The steam surrounding him didn't fog his vision as he stepped out of the shower. The only thing he couldn't see was his reflection in the mirror. As he walked to the sink, however, he noticed there was a distinct clack on the tiled floor with every step. Did Nora somehow tape something to his foot, too?

Nope. Looking down, he saw that his feet, along with his legs and everything else from his chest down had completely changed! His toes and fingers had extended and ended in claws and talons, the latter of which curved from his big toe! Up his arms and legs, black scales coated him to his torso, where white scale plating trailed down to his-

"WHAT?! WHERE DID IT-?!" Jaune scrambled for the mirror, trying his best not to freak out.

Reaching with his claws, he'd accidentally knocked it off the wall and shattered it all over the floor. He crouched down to scoop the mess into one big pile, suddenly feeling a sharp pain from his back... against the ceiling. He looked behind him to his wings. Oh, right... Wings.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"

Suddenly, there was a banging at the door. "Open up! This is Specialist Winter Schnee of the Atlas Military! Surrender any weapons you may have and come out peacefully!"

Jaune looked to his claws. "Uh... That's going to be a problem, officer!"

"I am counting to three, at which point I will break down this door if it has not been opened! One! Two!"

"WAITWAITWAITWAITWAIT!" Jaune smashed through the door, knocking the huntress over and pinning her to the floor. She glared at him with icy blue eyes of rage and disgust. "Uh... I'm indecent?"

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

The strange beast flew high above Beacon Academy, but it would not escape the right hand of General Ironwood so easily. Using her glyphs, Winter Schnee had made her way to the top of Beacon Tower. Through the tactical use of her summons, she managed to chase the monster to the top with her, the forcing it to the ground to fight on the ground. Still, the creature was larger than her and equipped with claws that would likely shred through her aura. Haste would not equate to victory.

"Please, stop!" It yelled over the chirping pecks of the ice birds. "Stop it!" With a flick of her wrist, the summons fell away. "Oh, thank y-" Her saber was pressed against his head. Jaune clenched his jaw shut.

"Talk." Winter growled. "What are you?"

"I'm..." He gulped. He kept his voice below a frantic yell. "My name is Jaune Arc. I'm a student at Beacon Academy."

"Is this supposed to be a joke?" She looked him up and down.

"Uh, actually..." He tried to inch away, only to find her bald would not leave his delicate skin. "I-I think this is supposed to be a prank."

A cold wind blew into her face, though she did nothing to indicate it bothered her. Atlas was much colder, though the air was not this sweet. It had an almost candy-like scent, like cherry and lavender. She kept her sword drawn, though she did inch away by some small margin.

"A prank?" She repeated. "Pranks don't transform students into Grimm." There was only one being on Remnant who had that kind of power. Could this boy's existence be proof of her infiltration? She needed to learn more. "You will come with me to speak to Headmaster Ozpin. Make any sudden moves and I will end you, Grimm or no Grimm. Am I understood?"

Jaune gulped. "Y-Yes'm."

"Good." Winter stepped back, sheathing her sword. "And for heaven's sakes, put some clothes on."

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

"And that's how Jaune got a girlfriend twice his age~!"

"Man, that is so cool~!" Russel cooed as he and Lark leaned into Nora's story.

"What happened next?" Dove eagerly asked, on the edge of his seat.

"Well, you know those stories about dragon-riders? Well-"

"MISS VALKYRIE!" Nora flinched as Professor Goodwitch cracked her riding crop on her desk. "You are in detention to be punished for mutilating your classmate, teammate, and team leader, Jaune Arc! This is not a place for your to expound your mischief as a legendary epic of the mothran age!"

"Y-Yes, Professor Goodwitch..." Nora sheepishly retreated into herself.

"And Mr. Winchester, please control your teammates! Their encouragement will only worsen Miss Valkyrie's behavior!"

"Y-Yes, Professor Goodwitch..." Cardin also shrank, but not before giving a menacing glare to his team. They all shrank in unison.

Meanwhile, outside, Jaune and Winter were getting practice in for their new role as Remnant's first "Dragon-Rider Huntress". It was an idea for a joint occupation which Professor Ozpin and General Ironwood agreed upon to both bolster their offense capabilities while also inspiring future generations of huntsmen and huntresses and, maybe, find a cure for Jaune's mutation. Maybe. Probably.

[polkadottedpie]

Ouma Kokichi as a Vent Regressor

CW: canon typical horror (character death, the killing game, gore, etc.), vent regression/regression from trauma, repression, anxiety, trust issues

Wrote this because I've never seen Kokichi agere content in the actual context of the killing game, which is fair, but it was a concept I actually wanted to think about just for myself. Mentions of Amami Rantaro as a big brother-esque caregiver before his death.

Ouma Kokichi has never been one to allow himself to be vulnerable in front of just anybody, and that goes doubly for his regression. He doesn’t understand exactly what it is, so he doesn't have an exact age range, but he knows he’s not at 100% when it happens and that’s cause for concern. It’s hard to play the part of the Ultimate Supreme Leader of Evil when your head is foggy and you feel so small and your lies get worse and controlling your emotions gets harder.

In a place as dark and scary as the killing game, though, there’s nothing Kokichi can do to prevent the headspace from bubbling up along with all the despair and anguish he’s forced to experience as things continue to escalate. So, if he can’t hide this vulnerability away, the only solution he has is to bury it with more and more lies to obscure it from everyone in plain sight.

Thankfully, it’s easy to hide even the worst lie when you’re already known to be a liar. Kokichi swings hard in the direction of acting like a child, even when he’s not regressed, so everyone just sees him as childish in general. He pokes fun at others, plays practical jokes, breaks out the waterworks at every opportunity, he doesn’t take the game seriously at all, all to both cope with the situation and blur the line between his big self and his regressed self so none will be the wiser.

This becomes a bit of a double-edged sword, as throwing himself into the spoiled brat schtick only makes it easier for the haze of regression to roll in, especially when Monokuma first establishes the First Blood motive and time limit and things start to get serious. He does his best to scrounge up what clues about the killing game he can, but any time he’s forced to interact with one of his classmates and he has to turn up the kiddie act, the danger of potentially triggering himself looms in the back of his mind.

It’s dear Amami-kun, sharp as a tack and ever vigilant around his peers, who picks up on Kokichi’s behavior first.

Out of all of his classmates, Amami-kun was most partial to Kokichi for how his lies always twist the group towards the greater good at his own expense. He’s seen how serious Kokichi can be when he called Akamatsu-chan out at the Death Road of Despair when no one else would. It puzzles and intrigues him as to why he’d insist on acting so childish the rest of the time.

Amami-kun begins to notice how Kokichi’s behavior fluctuates, the thematic differences from his obnoxious kiddie act overshadowing the more genuine flashes of a frightened child looking for comfort and distraction. He may not remember much about himself, but he does still remember his sisters, how the younger ones acted when afraid or stressed out. It doesn’t take him long to put the pieces together.

None of Kokichi’s other classmates would play along with his antics quite like Amami-kun did. Akamatsu-chan and that sheepish detective that follows her around found him annoying at best and outright malicious at worst, and since she’d become the de-facto driving force of the group, most everyone was quick to follow suit.

Amami-kun, however, rolled with Kokichi’s energy pretty well. When Kokichi had the mental fortitude to be serious, Amami-kun was clever enough to brainstorm with, even if he kept a lot of his insight a little on the vague side. When he couldn’t be bothered and broke out the childish antics, he smoothly played along with his games like a cool older brother, and for once it made the fuzzy fog that would roll into Kokichi’s head feel safe and warm. It was the most comfort he’d felt since they’d all arrived at the Academy.

It’s a shame it couldn’t last.

Kokichi’s head was already spinning from the time limit video blaring in his room when the body discovery announcement suddenly played, directing everyone to the library. It was too much, too fast, and the whiplash from one anxiety to another had already put him in a daze when he rushed out of his room.

He had never plummeted so hard and so fast as the moment he saw Amami-kun’s body on the floor of the library, blood spattered across the bookcase and pooling across the carpet from the gaping wound in his head. He couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t hear anything anyone else was saying. He could feel the tears already coming, but the oppressive presence of everyone else in the room choked him up in spiraling thoughts of not safe, not safe, not safe.

Amami-kun was dead.

Everyone who remained hated him.

There was no one left to trust.

Immediately, Kokichi threw himself into theatrics to hide himself in another lie.

If people like it, I might consider continuing this journey through the other parts of the game with agere tones. Let me know if you'd be interested!

[mushroomwoods]

Alive and Breathing

the warrior was used to this setting, something that usually seemed so harmless, dragging things he cherished out of his hands, this time though, he wouldn't just watch as death tried to take what's his, not matter the cost or the amount of blood he had to bathe in, it would never take you away from him.

character — Warriors, romantic.

cw — yandere behaviour, kidnapping, drugging, manipulation/gaslighting, morally grey actions, vomiting, dubious consent (kiss).

I'm really sorry for the wait, ky dearies, ended up having a... troubling day yesterday which made me set off posting this sooner. I also took the liberty to make some alterations to Wars occupation in his game, but it was barely mentioned in passing, I just thought it would fit better with the whole story.

You were alive, breathing and well.

It was just a mild scratch you received while blocking a blow for the healer. You all knew how he was the most precious asset in the party should someone fall or the potions and fairies fail.

It was only natural, they all had been in this spot and even when Hyrule seemed uncomfortable with the overprotective attention, he didn't express it, knowing the end goal behind it.

Still, his mind screamed and scrambled for a way to treat it, scared of what might happen if it was to leave unattended.

He mentioned the scratch in passing, which you hadn't even noticed, chuckling at his worries and brushing your sleeve against it to remove the dried blood.

Too rough, it could leave blemishes and get infected like that.

Still, he kept his mouth shut, joking about your carelessness. He was good at that, not saying what was on his mind, keeping his innermost feeling hidden and locked like a treasure stash he was not willing to look through.

But you were alive, breathing and well.

That's what counts, right?

Until he saw you up to another gimmick with Wild or Wind, he felt his heart leap whenever you came back littered in injuries or soaked from head to toes in a especially chilly day.

He glared a warning to his fellow heroes, before continuing with his “hovering”, as the others liked to call it, drying your hair and patching any injury he could spot on your body.

You would just laugh and brush off when he said that even small things like that could make someone sick if they were outside and on the walk like you were.

He couldn't help but care about your careless and blame himself for not looking after you better.

At least you were alive, breathing and well.

Or at least he thought, before the deafening sound of an arrow bomb set off behind him, your scream resounding right after as the cliff they travelled through started collapsing under your footing.

His reaction time, often so quick, now seemed worryingly slow, his hand only brushing past yours as you fell right before his eyes.

He could take relief in the fact that the Hero of the Wilds reflexes were faster than his and thus he didn't think twice before diving right after you, glider in the wait.

After that his only job was to take care of those measly monster, those that tried to put you in harms way, he barely processed the inky black blood dropping from his hand and sword, his usually pristine stance in battle now messy as he all but pushed through the wave of infected monsters, the group barely needing to do anything as they could only watching Warriors turn into the real war captain he once acted as.

No one said a thing about how his unusually angered facade melted into a smile as soon as you were brought back to the group, a now clean hand settling onto your face as he scanned for any injury with a sickeningly sweet voice.

The way his jaw and fists clenched at any mention of the accident was enough to make the others backtrack on asking if he was alright.

Thankfully you were alive, breathing and well.

But there was only so much the man could take before his optimistic instance would crumble.

The final push for his resolution to shatter was the moment he stepped into his Hyrule, the place he knew the best just how dangerous it could be.

The place he knew the best who he could trust.

Zelda's warm welcome was immediately shut down as she stared into her friend face. She could say he was never in his topmost form while on the battlefront, however his sunken eyes and shaking hands were enough of a tell just from how deep of a inner turmoil he was.

She greeted the other heroes briefly, before excusing herself with the warrior and the general at her tail.

His blue scarf wasn't on sight even once for the next few days, the attendants that cared for the group did make sure to pass on his moves and plans, alike from any information of his land that any of you might need, however never once he showed up to tell them, even when the princess herself did.

It was only on the fourth day that he finally made an appearance, already sat by the table while having a not so friendly discussion with Impa, the scowl in the woman's face only deepening further when the group of heroes entered the dining room.

No words were uttered between the two after that, but somehow, even with the thick air around and how tense everyone was discussing what should their next move be, you slept like never before.

All whilst he just hoped you'd stay alive, breathing and well.

The strange lethargy of that day continued and worsened, the weapon in your hands heavy like a thousand bricks, something that should be easy for you to parry suddenly making your head spin and your body crumble, your hands automatically letting go of your weapon as your body fell to floor, everything you had consumed during breakfast coming up and ripping through your throat, the acid taste and smell making your stomach churn further as tears gathered at the sides of your eyes.

Your eyes closed as the world around you spun, hearing vaguely Legend's voice near you, before many other quickly approached.

A rough hand made contact with your forehead, from the corner if your eye you could spot the waves of blue falling beneath streaks of light blonde hair. Warriors made quick work after noticing how much you sweated and shuddered under his touch. He bit back a mirthful smile.

Things stayed the same for days on end, your situation didn't get any better and actually even worsened, both the faerie and the princess magic failing to heal or at least find any reason for your sudden illness.

In your hazy daze you wouldn't even be able to notice Time's side glances to the scarfed warrior or how Four bit back a curse when he would once again be denied to at least see you before departing, the princess stance rigid as she said mentioned you being a patient under strict supervision, the tea Warriors brought to you looking like anything but the supposed medicine you were supposed to be taking.

There was only so much they could do to help you, before agreeing that taking any longer would just make them lag behind even more than they already did.

The night they departed Warriors visited your room a last time, your sleeping form far more peaceful than the days prior.

A smiled spread over his face, venomous, hands brushing carefully past the scar on your left cheek before his head dipped down.

A creak by the door cut his time shorter than he would've liked, he could spend days on end just watching you, sweet, beautiful you.

“I belive it's time to go, Hero.” Impa voice sounded as imposing as ever. She didn't agree with his plan, but she was never one to go against it if Zelda was on his side.

“Unfortunately so...” His voice was quieter than ever, a peace uncommon of him. “I will be back soon my dear.”

Thus he sealed the deal.

As for now he would at least settle for having you alive and breathing.

[skkfujoshi]

I loved and I loved and I lost you

A knock broke Dazai out of his reverie.He supposed it couldn’t be helped,today being the anniversary of his and Chuuya’s partnership.

He smiled as he walked over to the door.That should be quickly amended though,considering Doppo was surely about to-

“Greetings,Dazai.”Kōyo said,as cold as ever

Not as cold as Dazai’s blood ran at the sight of her.He almost slammed the door,only for the woman to stop its closing with her sword’s blade without even blinking.

“Don’t be rude,Osamu.” “Better rude than dead,big sis.”

He wasn’t going to allow this.He’s worked too hard,passed on way too many good opportunities to kill himself to end his life on his knees in front of Mori with three bullets in his fucking head.

“…That’s not why I’m here Dazai.” “Then why waste my time?!” “You remember what day is it,don’t you?”

His eyes widened.

Surely Chuuya wasn’t…Surely Mori wouldn’t…

“What did Mori do to him?” “Nothing,but I’m glad that you understand my implication.” “If not that ,then what happened?”

Kōyo didn’t say a word more,simply pushing an envelope through the small wedge she created,the object thudding  flatly onto the floor.Then just as fast as she put the sword in there,she sheathed it and closed Dazai’s own door on him from the outside.

He considered briefly whether to pursue the woman for an explanation,but ultimately decided not to,picking up the envelope and seating himself on his futon.

He opened the envelope with a harsh tug,noticing that there was a small box inside it as well.He opted to ignore it,instead taking out the piece of paper and unfurling it.

DECEDENT’S NAME:Chuuya Nakahara

DATE AND TIME PRONOUNCED :10:30AM March 3rd 2011

DATE OF BIRTH:April 29th 1991

AGE:20

SEX:Male

What sort of sick joke was this…

AUTOPSY PREFORMED?

No

TOBACCO 

No

ALCOHOL 

No

MANNER OF DEATH 

Suicide

PART I:CAUSE OF DEATH 

a:The deceased is estimated to have poisoned himself.

Dazai took the box out now and opened it in a frenzy.A vial fell out,a brownish stain on its neck and finish,the liquid already hardened and dried where its trail was.

He took the vial in his hand.Still warm.The certificate said that Chuuya died at 10:30.It was 10:40 now.

He almost wanted to laugh.

What a difference a measly ten minutes could make…What a difference…

He popped the vial open and took a sniff.His eyes widened,recognizing the smell immediately.He chastised himself briefly for not figuring it out of off the color alone.

Mori dangled this particular poison in front of him shortly after his and Chuuya’s murder of Rimbaud.Told Dazai that if he completed the next mission he’d be more than happy to give it to him.

And then it was the next mission.

And then the next.

And then the one after that.

Dangling the possibility of a quick and easy death in front of Dazai’s face like you jangle keys in front of a toddler.

And that was also why Dazai’s hair stood on end now.

Cause that wasn’t the container Mori kept it in.It just wasn’t practical to change his layout like that.However…It was eerily similar to the viles he’d give Chuuya for solo missions.

But this one didn’t have any DNA material from Chuuya’s mouth,no trace of saliva to speak of so he couldn’t have drank it straight out of the thing.

With all those factors compiled…A worrying possibility emerged.

Chuuya drank this poison in the comfort of his own home.

There was also more than one sip of it,which meant…

The vial flew across the room,shattering against the wall.

No.

No.

No!

Chuuya didn’t premeditate his own suicide…He didn’t make this poison for hours on end by himself.He didn’t kill himself because of Dazai….

Surely not.Surely he was cornered and had no other way out…

And yet there was no other way…No other explanation made any damn sense…

He’s the reason Chuuya Nakahara is dead.

He’s the reason Chuuya’s dead.

He’s the reason Chuuya’s dead and he won’t even get to attend his damn funeral…

“It’s not fair,it’s not fair at all…Stupid mutt.You got to make a speech at my funeral and don’t let me make one at yours?!How inconsiderate…Then again…”

He laughed.

“I am nothing but a traitor now…You probably wouldn’t allow it.”Dazai rambled to himself 

He wasn’t crying ,he was never the type.He could only shake in disbelief.Chuuya dying before him…It was wrong…

Could anything be more wrong than that?

Didn’t that insufferable redhead have more reason to live than Dazai did?A dozen more…

A reason with a way too big sword.

A reason who needed his Hot Topic coupon taken away.

A reason with way too many lemon bombs…

If so,why?Why on this day?Why after two years of bearing his grief over Dazai?Why this way?

Then,clarity hit.

It didn’t make any sense,did it?

He grabbed the paper off of the floor,scrutinizing it with a newfound purpose.

Ten minutes and a death certificate already was impossible.What was even more damning now that Dazai took the time to check with a clear,if a bit frenzied mind,was the smell.

Lemon and smoke.This had Kaiji Motojiro written all over it.The only person aside from Mori with a medical degree. 

The only other smell that came close to competing was…Carnations and wine.

A manic,hysteric laugh tore its way through Dazai’s gut as he fell back onto the futon,the euphoria of relief almost dizzying.

They shared a room for four years.Did Chuuya really think that having his damn scent over the paper wouldn’t be an obvious tip off?

“Chuuya…You petty little shit.”Dazai laughed out,entirely too fond.

Boss Chuuya AU Masterpost

Previous fic part <— Next fic part —>

First overall AU info post

[writerscurse]

Possess your Heart | Aemond Targaryen x reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Word count: 2,422

Summary: Aemond and you used to be inseperable during your childhood. That was until you had to leave the Red Keep. 10 years later you come back, only to find him betrothed to another.

Warnings/tags: Angst, pining, mostly angst

‘Fuck off! All of you’, you shouted as you sprinted through the empty dragonpit, straight towards Aemond, that pig still standing before him. The other kids were laughing. God, how you hated them. You didn’t expect much from Jace and Luke, but not even his own brother would stand by his side.

You took off one of your shoes and threw it straight at Aegon’s head. 

‘Get out of here’, you shouted, darting towards him. His eyes widened and he rubbed his head where your shoe had hit him. As soon as he saw you, he dashed away, Jace and Luke right behind him.

Aemond just stood there, staring at the pig. You noticed tears in his eyes. Once you were close enough, you slowed down a little and instantly wrapped your arms around him. He didn’t hug you back, still too upset and angry at his brother and nephews. But you kept him close, not even caring about your bare toes freezing on the ground.

‘Ignore them, Aemond. They’re idiots. I just know you’ll find your dragon one day. And it’ll be better and bigger than all of theirs combined’, you whispered in his ear, gently stroking the back of your head. A sigh erupted from the boy in front of you and his arms finally came up to your waist, pulling you in tighter.

The young prince and you had always been close. Ever since your father had been summoned to the Red Keep to be part of King Viserys’ small council, you had grown up around the royal family. And you quickly developed a soft spot for the younger, silver-haired Targaryen in your arms. 

It seemed that he was always around. While his brother preferred to laze about or mess with his family, Aemond had always preferred to educate himself, to become a better person. You loved that about him. It was an innocent and childish love, but everyone in the castle could see that you two were meant for each other.

You would sit by his side in the library for hours, reading your books. Sometimes, Aemond would teach you a few words in High Valyrian, joking that if you were to be his princess one day, you would need to know more about his family’s history. It always made you blush and you knew that secretly he loved that.

Other days, you would watch him spar with Ser Criston Cole, practising his sword fighting skills. You would cheer on him, if he did well. Or you’d help him up, if he fell, always making sure he was okay. And whenever Ser Criston wouldn’t look, Aemond would hand you his sword, letting you play with it for a while and teaching you what new things he had learned. 

You knew his life wasn’t perfect and he often struggled a lot. But you were happy enough together. Until one day, your father was summoned back home and you had to leave the Red Keep.

10 years later

You smiled remembering all the good times you had at the Red Keep. Sure, your life back at home was fine, but you had always missed the bustle of King’s Landing. And you had missed your company. Nothing ever compared to the friendship you used to share with Aemond Targaryen. The thought of seeing him again made your heart jump. You couldn’t wait to finally arrive, get out of this damn carriage and wrap your arms around the man you had missed so much for the past 10 years.

And then you noticed the gates of the Red Keep. You were here. Any moment now. You felt the carriage come to a stop and the door was opened. Your father climbed out first, offering you his hand to guide you. Taking a deep breath, you straightened your dress, smiled at your father and finally stepped out of the carriage. 

Queen Alicent immediately came closer, greeting your father and then putting her hands on your shoulders, ignoring all protocol.

‘Y/N, how you have grown. It is wonderful to see you again’, the queen warmly smiled at you.

‘Your grace, I am pleased to be back’, you bowed before her, trying to be polite.

‘You’ll remember my children?’, she asked, stepping aside and revealing the rest of her family standing beside her.

‘Of course’, you responded and took a step towards them, noticing Aegon first, as he was closest to you. 

‘Prince Aegon, Princess Helaena, it is good to see you again. I congratulate you on your union’, you bowed before them. All of you knew that you were lying. You could never stand Aegon and he equally despised you. So both of them just nodded their heads, Helaena giving you a kind smile.

It was time for you to move on to the next person, you knew it would be Aemond. As soon as you laid eyes on him, a smile spread on your face. Of course, you had heard about that terrible incident that made him lose his eye. You had never liked Luke much, but knowing what he had done to Aemond, made you hate him. Not much to your surprise though, a missing eye didn’t change anything about it. Aemond was stunning. His tall figure towered over yours and the eyepatch gave him a mysterious aura that only intrigued you more. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, but it would have been improper. So you simply bowed before him. 

That’s when you noticed another person. Right beside Aemond, you saw a beautiful woman with long black hair. She must’ve been just a few years younger than the prince. Unsure of how to proceed, you moved over to her, when you saw Queen Alicent joining you.

‘Ah, yes. This is Lady Cassandra Baratheon, Aemond’s betrothed’, she announced, joy noticeable in her voice.

Your heart sank. Aemond was betrothed? How had nobody told you? A gasp escaped your mouth and you stared back at Aemond in disbelief. His gaze never met yours, but his clenched jaw line didn’t escape you. He desperately tried to ignore you. Not wanting to make a scene, you looked back at the woman before you.

‘My lady’, you bowed, ‘I am pleased to hear of your upcoming wedding.’

The words coming out of your mouth sounded rigid and forced, but you tried your best to smile at her. Sensing that the situation was a little tense, Queen Alicent ushered you all towards the doors and motioned for the servants to carry your belongings to your chambers. You hesitantly followed them, trying your best to ignore Aemond and Cassandra, before you made your way to your chambers to get ready for tonight’s feast.

A few hours later, you took a deep breath, as you stepped into the great hall. Most guests were already there and sharing conversations, laughing with each other, or just sipping from their cups. You were relieved at the realisation that nobody actually looked at you as you found your place by your father’s side. That was until you sat down and realised that Aemond’s seat was right in your line of vision and he was staring straight at you. You couldn’t read the look on his face but decided that given the circumstances of the situation it would be best to avoid his gaze. So you simply looked away, engaging in the conversation your father was sharing with the other noblemen sitting at your table.

‘My lady, may I ask for this dance?’, a voice behind you caught your attention after a while. You turned around to find the most beautiful stormy grey eyes staring right back at you. The tall man before you quite frankly took your breath away.

‘Of course, my lord…?’, you took his hand, letting him guide you to the dance floor.

‘Stark, Cregan Stark. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N’, he gave you a gentle smile before placing his hand on your waist, softly swaying to the music. 

‘I see, you have heard of me?’, you grinned up at him, enjoying the attention.

‘Rumours of your beauty and kindness are heard all across the realm, my lady. Although, I must say you exceed any stories I have heard’, he mused.

‘You flatter me, Lord Stark’, you giggled. In truth, you were rather grateful for the distraction he provided and let him spin you around. A joyful laugh escaped your mouth until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

‘Lord Stark, I will take it from here.’

You froze immediately, recognising that voice.

‘My prince’, Cregan Stark bowed before you, giving you a sympathetic smile before he walked away.

You didn’t dare to look up when you felt Aemond’s hand on your waist, gently pulling you into him as you moved to the music. Your heart was beating heavily and you felt butterflies in your stomach. You weren’t used to being that close to him anymore. And as much as you hated the situation, you couldn’t deny the attraction you undoubtedly felt towards the one-eyed prince.

‘You look beautiful, Y/N’, he whispered. When you looked up at him, your breath got caught in your throat and you forgot how to speak. Seeing him brought back so many memories and secretly, you had hoped that meeting him again would go vastly different.

‘Have you lost your voice, little bird?’, he hummed, a smirk spreading on his face. The situation amused him. He clearly knew of the effect he had on you and pulled you closer to him. The feeling of his chest pressed against yours almost made you forget yourself and you struggled not to give in and lean your head on his shoulder.

Looking over to the Targaryen table, you noticed a set of deep brown eyes, staring at you. Cassandra’s hand tightly gripped her cup and she couldn’t stop staring at Aemond and you.

‘Your betrothed seems upset, my prince. I do not think she appreciates the attention you’re paying me’, you sighed, ready to pull back, but Aemond kept you firmly held against him, turning slightly so you wouldn’t be able to see Lady Cassandra anymore.

‘I merely wish to reconcile with my old friend’, Aemond leisurely stated, looking down at you.

‘Old friend’, you huffed, ‘is that what I am to you?’

This time you pulled away from him, simply staring at him, ignoring the eyes that were carefully watching you now.

‘Y/N, please. Not here. You can’t do this right now’, he muttered, trying to keep face.

You felt anger rising within you. You were angry at Aemond for being with someone else. Angry at your father for making you leave all those years ago. But mostly, you were angry at yourself for the stupid feelings that you couldn’t get rid of.

‘I can do whatever I want, Aemond’, you hissed, ‘in fact, I might go back to dancing with Lord Stark. He seemed much more delightful than you.’

Just as you were ready to stomp off towards the Stark table, you felt a hand around your arm and before you knew it, Aemond was dragging you out of the great hall and into the corridor. He looked around, and pulled you behind a large pillar with him, trying to make sure that you could have a quiet moment together.

‘Why are you acting like this?’, Aemond spat, his nostrils flared as he stared down at you. You were pushed against the pillar, stuck between him and the cold stone on your back. The closeness to him made your head swim and you almost forgot how angry you had just been.

‘Me? How do you think I felt? Coming back after all those years, finally seeing you again, hoping you would…’, you trailed off, trying to hold your deepest wishes back, ‘and then you stood there with her by your side.’

You waved your hands towards the door, tears welling up in your eyes.

‘Oh Y/N’, Aemond sighed, bringing a hand up to your cheek. Seeing you like this broke his heart. He wanted nothing more than to be there for you, but he knew he had other duties now.

‘And you know what hurts the most? I want to hate you. I really do. But I just can’t. I lo-’, you caught yourself before you could say it. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him, realising what you had just done.

His expression matched yours. Sadness and shock covered his face. His thumb still gently stroked your face and you caught yourself leaning into his touch. He took a step forward, his body now pressed against yours. You could feel his breath on your face.

‘Don’t hold back’, he whispered, his voice so soft, you almost couldn’t hear it, ‘nobody can see us.’

And within the blink of an eye, you pressed your lips against his. Your hands came up to his neck, your fingernails digging into his long hair, softly scratching at the back of his head. It was a desperate kiss. The bitterness from years of longing for him and then coming back to see him lost to another was pouring out of you. Your lips moved against his in unison and his thumb was digging into your cheek. His other arms came up to your waist, pulling you even closer into him. A deep growl escaped his lips and you opened your mouth, letting your tongue glide over his lips and teeth, fighting his tongue for domination. A soft moan fell from your lips.

And suddenly you realised what you were doing. Your eyes opened wide and you pulled yourself away from him. Breathing heavily, you brought your fingers up to your lips and just stared at him in shock. You couldn’t believe what you had just done. Aemond wasn’t yours to be with. 

‘Y/N’, he tried, taking a step forward and reaching out to you, but you just shook your head. 

Taking a deep breath, you fought back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes. Another deep breath and you took a step forward, approaching the fragile looking prince before you.

You placed your hands on his shoulders. Standing on your toes, you leaned in and gently pressed a loving kiss on his cheek, just below his scar. 

‘I love you, Aemond. Always’, you sighed before turning around and walking away from him.

That was the last time you had ever seen Aemond.

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[otterlyfoolish]

Diverging Tracks

(Chihiro Rokuhira x GN!Reader)

Warning: Probably OOC

Tags: Childhood friends, Oneshot, Fluff

Word Count: 4k

Summary:

He didn't expect to find an old friend on the train. At first, he was afraid of being pulling into a barrage of questions regarding the scar on his face, but something makes him realises that probably won't be happening.

…When on Earth did they go blind?

If you prefer reading on Ao3, here's a link!

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A/N: …I want this fandom to grow bigger, so I'm throwing this "x reader" out as a contribution (It is the only type of fanfiction I write currently) Uh, Tenoi.

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The train station moved with the kind of hustle and bustle you'd get for a train going to a smaller sized city nearby Tokyo. Enough to make you more cautious than usual, but not enough to actually cause any problems. It was mostly just families on day trips travelling in the afternoon - no businessmen or students milling about the place.

Not that it would be too much of an issue for Chihiro anyways, he weaves through the crowd without much hesitation, smoothly making it past the little groups that's formed near the entrance of the train, the passengers languidly making it on and off the platforms. He swiftly found a seat in a empty carriage next to a window.

He leans his head back on the plush seat, turning his red eyes to face the window, staring past his reflection and onto the people milling about the station. With his right arm draped across his sword, pressing it firmly against his chest, he felt relaxed enough to not bother looking over to see the newcomer onto the train carriage.

"Sir? Ma'am?" The sound of shoes clacking against the wooden floorboards stopped right next to him. The person next to him took a small pause, as if trying to locate where he was before speaking again. "…Excuse me, Ma'am? Or sir?"

Chihiro looked up from his seat. Then he froze on the spot - his red eyes fixated on the person standing next to his seat with a polite smile.

Why were you here?

His mouth gaped for a moment, trying to think of what to say to you.

What were the chances of this happening naturally? Should he be suspicious? This wasn't a set up, was it?

…Though, looking up at you, his worries was somewhat laid to rest. Your face had the same polite smile he remembers so fondly. Lips ever so slightly curled at the edges, enough to make it seem like you were happy to see the other person, but not enough to seem overbearing in any way. You were a terrible liar - it always showed on your face - you were so bad, in fact when his father wanted to throw him a surprise birthday party, you practically gave it away with how weirdly you acted the whole day, trying to keep him from going back home. So if there was a issue, he'd probably be able to tell.

"If you don't mind, could you do me a favour?" You asked contuining your line of thought, now sensing that he was paying attention to you, your eyes still kept closed. Weird. Maybe you were up to something. Also you called out for "ma'am". There wasn't much about him that he would say earned him that title instead of "sir".

…Are they really up to something?

"…Sure." He responded. Well. You could also be trying to play a stupid joke on him again. The scar on his face was on the side opposite you - meaning that there was a chance that you haven't seen it. In fact, maybe you just haven't recognised him altogether. It has been a few years. Besides, he doubts he was your best friend at the time. At best he was… probably number three or something.

"Great! Thank you so much." You smiled at him, the curve of your lips becoming a little bit more noticeable. "Could you tell me if this is a 1000 yen note, or a 2000 one?" You ask, showing him the bill. "Usually, I can tell, but this bill is a little old and crumpled. It's a bit harder…"

He glances between you and the currency in your hands before asking the first question that came to mind when you asked for that favour. "…Can't you just look at it?"

There was another moment of silence as you seemed to let the question sink in the air. Something you did when you were trying not to offend the other by thinking of an appropriate response, but also wanted to subtly show disapproval for whatever reason. (It actually took him a while to figure this out until you just told him outright why you took your time answering sometimes.)

"…Sir, I'm blind." You reply back, your happy smile returning back to the polite one before.

His eyes widen, pupils almost frantic looking on any indication on your face that you were perhaps lying or maybe even something to tell him that you were blind. At the sound of his silence, you shifted your feet back and forth a little, waiting for any kind of response from him. Shit. You really weren't lying.

"Sorry." He clears his throat. His mind still running a mile a minute. When did they go blind? Is it sickness? Were they ill? "It's a 1000 yen note."

"…Ah. Okay." You nod back at him in response, almost a little disappointed at his answer, but it still doesn't faze your smile. "Well, thank you…!" You say, forcing your polite tone to come back, but when you turn away from him and go to sit probably a couple seats in front of him, you sigh to yourself, shoulders slumping as you clutched the bill in your hands.

…Chihiro knows that he should leave you alone. It's been too long since the two of you last met, making it awkward to strike up a conversation, not that he's ever really the type to do that to begin with, but still. He also doesn't want to answer any questions you might have regarding what happened. Dead dad. Essentially homeless. How do you say you've turned to a life of vengeance against one of the strongest group of sorcerers to your childhood friend while also on a quest retrieving the enchanted blades that ended the war? Oh yeah, you don't.

So the words that come out of him next isn't really words that came from his mind, and more so from instinct. "…What's wrong?" You weren't the type to talk about your problems unless prompted, so he was used to having to watch you carefully if you wanted to talk about anything in the past. Which was difficult, since he didn't get many chances to hang out with kids his age (basically none), so he wasn't exactly trained for those situations. Thankfully, it wasn't often, but he just made it a habit to ask you that every few weeks when it seemed like you were being too quiet.

"…Uhm… Well. I think…" You trailed off, turning your head back to face him. He wonders if you did this more for his comfort rather than yours - you didn't need to bother to turn around to see him anymore since you, y'know, can't see. "I think… the person that sold me my lunch didn't give me the correct change…? I gave them ¥5000, and the lunch was ¥3000, so I should get ¥2000 back, right? Not ¥1000?" You ask, as if there was actually any doubt in the amount of money you should have gotten.

…Of course, they got ripped off so easily. Actually, this might have worked on them even if they could still see.

A very short mental battle took place in his mind before he continues speaking. "…Was it the vendor right outside the train?" He asks, seeing you still depressed over the missing money.

"Yeah, you should avoid going there if you're getting lunch I guess…" You say, folding the bills and turning them back into your wallet with a sigh. "M'sure it's just a mistake, but…"

This was his second failure - when he couldn't just pull himself out of the conversation and leave. Just shut up. Or sit even further away from you. Or go to another carriage - fucking rebook his train if he had to and phone Mr. Shiba that he was getting a later train. But no.

"…Give me your receipt." He says, getting up and outreaching his arm to you. "I'll talk to them."

Strangely enough, you seemed to expect it from him. You didn't even question him, rummaging into your wallet to find it, until you pulled out the little slip of paper. "…Remember, it's just 1000 yen. It's probably a mistake."

"Hm." He hums back, taking the little slip of paper from you. When you offered it over to him, you raised your hand way too low down for him to naturally take - what, did you think he was that short? If he was still a teenager, maybe it would be acceptable, but since he's grown, he had a stretch his hand down to take it from you. "Okay. I'll be back."

You gave him a nod in response, not quite facing the correct height of where his face was, but he accepted it all the same.

---

When he comes back with the money, his feet barely need an instruction to go and find you, his boots purposely making more noise than usual as if to purposely alert you to his presence. It'd be somewhat scary for someone's voice to just suddenly appear right next to you, if you couldn't see, right? He's just being polite.

It seems like it worked, considering you tilted your head over to the direction he was coming from, only now you had sat in the spot opposite where he was sitting. Before you did, you weren't looking at the window like other passengers would while waiting, instead, you had just angled your head to face downwards at a slight decline, as if you were faking sleeping.

As he walks over, he realised that he could have just run off with the money and left you waiting on the train for nothing. His ticket could be used anytime, just as long as it was for this train.

…They haven't changed very much, huh?

"Here." He says, offering out the money to you, but realised that you couldn't pinpoint where exactly he was holding it out. "…Put your hand out."

"Oh!" You replied, lifting your head up in a excited manner and putting your palms upside out for him to place the bills on. "Did you get any money back?" You ask, the question basically redundant considering he said to put your hands out - clearly he had something to give you.

"Yeah." He says, tucking it into the crook of where your thumb met your palm. "2000 yen." He firmly presses his thumb into the flesh of your palm as he tucks it in, as if making a point somehow. Perhaps the point he wanted to non-verbally convey was "don't let this happen again."

But all you got out of it was a ticklish feeling apparently because you let out a small chuckle at the sensation before you gave him a hum of approval, your fingers finding their way over to the braille marks on the bill only to realise what it was. "…I only needed ¥1000 to make it the correct amount."

It wasn't exactly a mistake - he just asked the person running the counter about the receipt, and they handed over the money without much else prompting. It seemed that they realised what he was even going to ask before he finished his sentence. Even so, he can't exactly find it within him to be apologetic for his actions (or inaction?), they played ignorant first to a blind person first - and so he lets out all that he could be bothered to in response. "…Hm."

And like perfect timing, the train doors shut and the click and clack of the wheels could be heard moving the vehicle along the tracks. Even though Chihiro was standing upright, he was barely fazed by the sudden acceleration of the vehicle, still standing there waiting for your reaction.

"…Well, nothing can be done about it now." You say, laughing it off as you slip the bill into your wallet, the slip of paper making it just marginally thicker than before. "Thank you, I really appreciate it."

…Carefree as always.

Since the conversation seemed to reached it's natural end, he flicked his eyes from you to the train carriage's reflection, looking at the other available seats around you.

He debated sitting in another section, he doesn't want to get found out who he is by talking to you any longer. Sure, his voice has gotten deeper since last time he spoke to you, but who knows if you could pick on on the subtle lifts and falls unique to his voice. His father said he spoke completely monotone, but you said that he always betrayed what he was thinking with the tone of his voice. Maybe you were lying to him back then.

He can't be sure, he took everything at face value when it was from you. There was no reason to doubt you, ever.

…And just like that, he realised that was all the more reason he needed to separate himself from you.

Just as his boot takes a step away from you, you let out a quiet 'oh!'

The sound makes him stop in his tracks turning back to look at you once more, his red eyes scanning you to see what was the problem now. "I'm sorry, you were sitting here before, weren't you? I can find another seat," you say, getting to your feet and taking a step away from the little section of seats before you were stopped.

"…You can sit there." He says, his voice quieter than before. you could probably tell that he was still standing by following the direction of your voice.

"What about you? I don't want to intrude." You responded politely as ever with the same disarming smile. It was the same way you treated him the first few times the two of you met. While he could appreciate the nostalgia, he doesn't want it.

"You're not intruding," he says, and he walked over to the same spot by the window he was in earlier and placed himself down, this time though, he placed Enten leaning against his chest as if he needed something to weigh himself down in the moment and not just leave.

There was a moment of silence - he could only imagine what you were thinking. Did you figure out who he was? Were you about to leave yourself and ignore him? Maybe you didn't want to sit near him at all. "…Okay." You responded, and sat in the seat opposite him, hands in your lap.

For a second he was almost startled that you chose to stay. He didn't want you to be near him, yet he didn't like the idea that you could sense something undesirable about him to not sit near him. There's a part of him that wants that image of his younger to maintain it's current status in your eyes even if he wouldn't benefit.

He nodded back, and turned his face to look out the window, gazing out at the view in front of him, watching the trees turn into rows and rows of houses. It didn't take him long for him to be bored of the sight and turned to you, glancing over for just a split moment. And in that tiny segment of time, he realised that you were also leaning your head towards the window, seemingly peering out the same view he was. "…I thought you were blind."

You laughed at him before you spoke, a short but real laugh, making him think that what he said was utterly ridiculous for a second. "That doesn't mean I can't enjoy the feeling of the sun on me. It's a nice day, today." You say, your soft laugh under your breath sounded like a wind chime to him. "It's rare for it to be this warm in this season. Besides, I'm not completely blind. I can somewhat see some coloured shapes and blurs. Though, even that is a little difficult sometimes."

He stares at you - perhaps you could feel the intensity of his stare as he did so, because you turned back to face him as you waited for what he wanted to say. He isn't quite sure how to phrase it for a moment, only examining your face carefully. He changes the question in his head a little to avoid suspicion."…Were you born blind?"

"Born? No, no." You shake your head as if it was obvious. He couldn't help but notice that you were slipping off that distant, but kind stranger act with him. "I've been like this for maybe two years? I turned blind after some sort of run in with a group of sorcerers."

"What."

"Ah, yeah! I know, right?" You say, nodding along to the sound of him gritting his teeth now - he was doing it quietly, but due to the fact you relied on your hearing more, you could pick up on his anger. "They were asking me for my money, and I told them I didn't have any change, so they blinded me with magic and then mugged me! Can you believe that? How rude! Just take one thing from me!"

Brushing away the fact you only considered them 'rude' and nothing else, he asked you another question. It seemed pretty typical of you to say, to be honest. "Do you have names?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "Apparently a little gang of amateurs, since they couldn't even blind me fully." And with a huff from that final sentence, you slumped back into your seat.

"…I see." He said, my eyebrows still crossed, and the frown still evident on his face, but there was no point trying to hide that from you. His fingers tightened around Enten, clicking it against his other sword as he thought about what he could have-

"…I'm not even that upset about losing my money or even being blinded. You know what's the worst part?" You say, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he turns his eyes back over to you instead of the sheath of his blade.

He honestly doesn't know what more could be worse for the average person than losing one of your senses even if it's not fully. "Go on."

"I lost this… Thing, I don't actually know what it is, but it's like… This metal thing." You sigh slightly, turning your face away from him as if in embarrassment. "Keycharm? I don't know, but I always kept it in my wallet, in the little bit where you keep your coins."

"…You kept a bit of scrap metal in your wallet." He states, trying to confirm what you were trying to tell him. Did you pick up your old habit of collecting shiny-looking objects again? How many times does he need to tell you that if they're outside, it's filthy.

"It's not scrap." You huffed out almost immediately, but took your time getting to the next part. "It's… a gift." You say, then finally take your hands out of your lap, and start trying to motion out some shape out with them. "It's supposed to be spherical I think. It's hollow and there was something inside of it, like a little metal ball, and there's a slit in it. It's really quite small, so it's actually quite impressive. It's important, you know? It was given to me by my best friend."

Oh.

"A bell." He states, the words coming out of his mouth. As if he has to defend the dignity of his younger self and his skill level at the time. Though, looking back, there was a lot of things wrong with the design of his creation. Not that it matters, since he wasn't at the skill level to produce the things that he wanted anyways.

"…A bell?" You echoed, your voice light as you repeated his words. Even if you couldn't see right now, he could feel your gaze on him. Even if you couldn't see him, he felt the urge to turn his eyes away from you, avoiding eye contact.

"A… faulty bell." He says, again, realising that he couldn't turn back now. Besides you described what he gave you, he could theoretically, be bright enough to have pieced together what you couldn't from your description. "No?" He adds, trying to pretend that he was still a stranger even though he almost (or maybe he already has) exposed his identity to you.

He had given it to you after you said you wanted to be alerted to his presence whenever he got close to you. You were always lost in your own thoughts, and he wasn't a particularly loud child, so he would often startle you when he got close and started speaking to you. Really, it was barely a problem. You weren't scared to death, and you always just jolted then returned to normal after milliseconds of realising who he was. Even so, he didn't like that you reacted so strongly even if it was for less than a second to him. The solution he came to as a child - you'd put a bell on him and so you'd be alerted to every step he makes. Looking back, he wonders why he even came to that conclusion. Oh right.

It's because you said that the neighbourhood cat had a bell on its collar, and now it couldn't catch any birds to eat.

Possibly funny looking back. Before he's even made a sword, he made a bell. A bell to alert his only friend of his age range. And they didn't even know what it was, even so, they kept it for so long.

"…I see." You say, and you put your hand on the side of your face, a fond smile coming onto your lips as you thought about his answer. He hopes that you don't remember it all that well, but it seems that his wish is a fruitless one judging by your expression and your words. "How sweet."

Good. It seems like they haven't realised that it's me.

…Have I really changed that much?

Not thinking much on his thoughts anymore, he replies back. "…Sure." He simply puts, wanting to press for more details, but at the same time not wanting to give himself away. He doesn't like sweets, but he'll tolerate being compared to it if it's from you.

You let out a low chuckle at his response, smile growing wider.

Then, the train slowed down to a halt, a recorded voice coming out of the speakers as it pulled into the station and opened it's doors for the passengers to get off, to which a couple of people stepped off and a couple more got on, filling up the seats on the train.

The smile on your face returned to your neutral response, as you listened again to the recording as it repeated once more.

"…This is me." You say, motioning to the train station. His eyes only flicker over to the building before landing back on you. "This has been good."

…We only together sat for one stop.

"…Mhm." He hums, but he hopes that you can hear the acknowledgment in his tone. Knowing you, you probably did pick up on it, and probably more he wasn't aware of. You said you did - he'll just have to trust that. He can relearn to.

"I hope we'll cross paths again sometime in the future," You say your voice having a happy lilt to it as you waved goodbye to him. (To which he gave you a nod. It's only later he remembers that you couldn't even see his non-verbal farewell.) "Chihiro."

After he nods, not thinking a thing of it since the words sounded so natural to him, only looking at your figure as you navigated the station you got at hazily before you seemed to find your way. He blinks once. Then again. Finally processing what you said as you were out of sight now, and the train started moving again.

…Wait.

[kaziwi]

For the 100 follower event how about nami with prompt #2? Female or gn reader. Also congrats!

Nami requests>>>> I hope you enjoy!!

Link to Event

"Hey. Look at me."

Character(s): Nami

WC: 726

CW: Little angst but happy ending; Nami got hurt :(

"You can't sit there all day you know," Zoro said, looking down on you.

You were sat next to the infirmary door, your knees brought to your chest. You didn't want to admit he was right, you knew you had to go in to talk to her.

Earlier that day there had been a battle with the marines, as per usual, but this time you just weren't on your A game. For some reason you were distracted and kept tripping over yourself. It had gotten so bad that you didn't even notice a marine charging straight at you. But before the marine could slash you...Nami pushed you out of the way. She struck him with a bolt of lightning from her Clima-tact, but not before he got a good swipe of his sword in and cut her arm. It was a pretty bad cut, nothing Chopper couldn't patch up, but it would bother her for awhile. And it was all your fault.

So there you were, sat next to the infirmary, too scared to go and face Nami. Zoro had gone in to visit her a little bit ago, and when he came out he was a little surprised to find you in the same spot.

"She's not mad, just upset cause you haven't visited her."

"It's just-" you started, "what if...I mean...she got hurt cause of me.."

"Did you swing the sword?" Zoro's words rattled you a little as you looked up on him. Silently you told him you understood his point, but it didn't make it any better. He made it obvious he wasn't gonna go anywhere until you moved, so slowly, very slowly, you got up, and crept to the infirmary door.

You quietly knocked the door, hoping Nami didn't hear...or maybe she fell asleep. A muffled 'come in' came from the other side of the door, signaling for you to go in. You quietly creaked open the door, not looking up from the floor.

When you finally raised your head, you could practically see Nami's face beaming. Maybe Zoro was right, she really did want to see you. But then you saw the big bandage on her arm. A reminder of what you caused.

"Y/N!! I was worried you weren't gonna visit me. I would have had to raised your debt if you didn't come," Nami joked. You let out a small laugh as you awkwardly stood next to the bed. Nami patted the bed, signaling you to sit on it with her. You obliged, but the awkardness didn't go unoticed by her.

"What's wrong? You feeling ok?? Chopper said he would be back in a few minutes to check up on me so maybe you should ask him to take a look at you."

"I'm fine..." you mumbled, then bursted in energy, "But how are you??? Is your arm okay are you feeling alright??" After your obvious display of concern Nami finally realized why you felt so anxious.

"Y/N...I'm all good, see Chopper fixed me up!!" She leaned a little closer to show her patched up wound, but you just lowered your head and looked at the floor, avoiding looking at her. You just couldn't take it anymore, she had to know how you felt.

"Nami I'm so sorry," you shouted, louder than intended, "I didn't mean for you to get hurt if only I hadn't been so distracted then you wouldn't have gotten-"

"Hey. Look at me." Nami said while squeezing your hand. You hadn't even realized she grabbed it. You looked up at her, tears in your eyes, to see her grinning face.

"This isn't your fault, not one bit. I'm the one who stepped in front of you. And if anything its that stupid marine's fault for thinking he could mess with a strawhat!!" Her response made you laugh as you squeezed her hand back.

"I promise you Y/N, I'm fine, and I don't blame you for anything...but since you waited so long to visit me I think I'll have to raise your debt a little."

A smirk grew on her face as you looked a little baffled. Only Nami could turn a heartwarming conversation into one about money. She started to laugh at your expression, and in the end you joined her. Laughing about who knows what anymore while gently squeezing each other's hand.

[amethxxt]

Any Shang Jr and Lonnie headcanons?

• Shang Jr is two years older than Lonnie and they get along well.

• I don't picture them as siblings who share a super close bond, but they are always there for one another. He was always supportive of Lonnie when it came to sword fighting and they always trained together at home.

• At Auradon Prep, he was very popular and was best friends with Herkie (Hercules' son). Him and Yi-Min (Yao's daughter) have known each other since they were little and are the epitome of high school sweethearts.

• Their little group were the ones that made the Enchanted Lake such a popular spot for skipping class, dates and parties.

• He was Coach Jenkin's assistant for the Tourney Team for a while before joining the Imperial Army after graduation. Some people joke about it being nepotism, but he is one of the most skilled warriors.

• A few months after joining the Imperial Army, he proposes to Yi-Min, although both of them agree to only get married a few years later.

• He's closer to their father and Lonnie's closer to their mother.

• When Lonnie came to Auradon Prep, she wasn't as popular as him and didn't really want to be. Still, she was always nice to everyone and could mingle from group to group.

• She's not shy and is very proud of her family history.

• Before the VKs arrives, she would always be hanging out with Ben, Aziz, Jane and if she was texting someone, it was most definitely Audrey. They love to gossip together (Lonnie was the one who kept giving her updates about the Cotillion).

• After the Core Four started attending Auradon Prep, Lonnie got really close to Jay and Evie, who also really likes hearing gossip. They talk for hours while Evie designs her new training clothes and Mal just sits in the corner sketching.

• She felt bad for failing to notice Mal's inner turmoil in D2 (and even contributing to it) so she spent a lot of time trying to make up for it until Mal told her to cut it out.

• Lonnie then opted for offering silent support, just sitting next to Mal and shapening her swords to keep her company and sneaking her a few chocolate chip cookies when she sees Mal's having a rough day.

• Despite being R.O.A.R's team captain, it takes some time for the rest of the boys to take her seriously and that's what she texts her brother about the most - just complaining about them as much as possible with his response being offers to beat them up if they ever go too far.

• She enjoys training with Jay the most, because he never holds back. Fencing with him is hard and draining, but the way he fights also helps her reflexes improve and teaches her new moves.

• With time, she learns to read him, and knows that whenever he spaces out or starts to get more aggresive is because he's having flashbacks about the Isle. Lonnie then takes the sword from him and forces him to sit down and take some time to breathe. If it gets too bad, she rushes to get Carlos.

• She's also the only one who has seen Jay's scars outside of the Core Four and always listens when he's willing to talk about it.

• After the Sea Three come to Auradon, she's the most eager to get to know Uma and have her and Harry join R.O.A.R. She also gives up on trying to get them to wear the safety equipment.

• Uma has beaten her in a sword fight before and even taught her a few of the pirates' moves.

• Lonnie ends up being recruited by Northern Wei's professional fencing team, but her dream is to also joing the Imperial Army in the future.

I think this is getting a bit long now, so I think I'll end it here lol (sorry if there's a bit more about Lonnie) but I can definitely write some more about them in the future!!

Hope you liked these headcanons! Feel free to send requests about any other character, couple, etc.

[poisonedfate]

For writing:

13. “I lost our baby.”

Between Gwaine and Merlin in canon era 🤭

i had to cut it short since it was already almost 1k words, so it's a little...hectic :D the writing is a bit questionable itself - a rough draft at best, but i didn't want to make you wait for too long so. here goes.

send me prompts

13. “I lost our baby.”

It was one of Merlin's favourite things - quiet nights spent loudly with Gwaine. Quiet, because it was only the two of them, loud, because neither could stop laughing for more than four breaths at a time. It wasn't often that they got such time to themselves, but when they did? When they did, nothing could get in their way - not the weight or tiredness of the day nor the promise of early mornings to come. 

Ever since Gwaine found out about his magic, the nights had drained of any pressure, and grown to be calmer. Merlin could be a little careless then, knowing the memories, however many of them would actually be retained the next day, were theirs to make as they pleased. Merlin was more familiar with secrets than perhaps anything else in the world, but the ones between him and Gwaine felt different - like he kept them because he wanted to and not just because he had to. There were jokes made only for them two, looks only they could understand.

He knew all of this, yet nothing could've prepared him for Gwaine stumbling into the early morning training at the last minute, a sway still somewhat permanent in his walk, rushing right over to him.

"I lost our baby," he said in a voice that could only be described as an attempted whisper.

"You what?" Merlin didn't know whether he should laugh, scream or do anything in his power to simply stop Gwaine from continuing. The quiet pounding in his head grew more annoying as the day went on and if it weren't for that, he would most likely find the situation slightly more amusing. 

"Our...baby. Lost it," he repeated, quieter this time, flashing a smile over Merlin's shoulder where he could only assume Arthur and the rest of the knights were already staring at them with the curiosity of a rampant crowd. 

"You need to stop calling it that before..."

"That's what we called it last night, did we not?" Gwaine looked back at him, still grinning. 

"That's not-"

"So, is it a boy or a girl?" Elyan interrupted them, expression as serious as he could get it, a childish kind of joy in his eyes. Judging by Gwaine's face, neither of them had noticed the knight approach. 

"Don't listen to him," Merlin replied at the same time as Gwaine said, "a girl". 

He whipped his head around, giving the other his best shut up look, which only earned him a shrug in response. Before Gwaine, or any of the others, could say anything else that might put him in an early grave, Arthur, face about as judgment-filled as one might expect (with some hints of entertainment, too), decided to finally begin the training - sometimes one must be thankful for another's awful timing choices. 

Only once the attention was no longer on Merlin, did he actually think about the content of Gwaine's words. He had lost....he had lost it. 

Near the end of their last night's endeavours, the two of them had somehow managed to slip into a retelling of their favourite "surprising others" stories, many of them consisting of Gwaine's tavern tales and Merlin's run-ins with magical beings. One of the stories he told, however, was when Lancelot had found out about the sword forged in a dragon's breath. 

"Where is it now? Still with Lancelot?" Gwaine had asked.

"What? No, it's Arthur's."

"That's worse," he replied, making Merlin laugh, his brows furrowed. 

"Why's that?"

"How come he gets a cool sword and I get nothing?" 

Merlin could've, of course, gone on to explain why that sword came to be, but Gwaine already knew - the same way Merlin knew the other was only (mostly) teasing now. But something about the exchange, paired with the warmth in his throat and his stomach and across the entirety of him, had made him take Gwaine's words more seriously. 

"Do you want one?"

"Want wh- a sword in- in a dragon's...no, that seems like a lot of work."

"No, what I mean is something similar, something...with magic," Merlin explained with a chuckle. 

Gwaine stared at him for just a brief moment before continuing: 

"Alright, show me what you got then."

Merlin had asked for his dagger, asked what they should do with it. He wasn't exactly an expert at enchanting objects, but he had read some things here and there and had some slightly misplaced confidence running through him. After a couple of back-and-forths, the two of them decided to turn one of the stones adorning the scabbard into a vision of sorts. Merlin wasn't sure how long it would last, if at all, but for the time being, a tiny fire-made dragon swirled around the stone whenever Gwaine, and only Gwaine, dragged his thumb across it. 

The knight had laughed then, the wonder in his eyes reminding Merlin of his own, one that had grown quieter over the years. He chuckled, called it the first of its kind, a firstborn, earning a surprised laugh from Merlin. That was what started it all then, Gwaine referring to the dagger as 'the baby'.

Merlin didn't necessarily fear the loss of it, didn't fear it being discovered and met with questions - no one would know the significance of what had been done to it. He did, however, fear the loss of a memory, an object enchanted with more than just harmless magic. So as soon as training was done and he could get away, Merlin searched for the dagger - it didn't take very long. And if he did find it under Gwaine's bed because he had fallen asleep holding it...well, no one has to know. 

[monstercampus]

SORRY I FORGOT ONE THING

I kept meaning to send this ask but I wasn't sure if I already had and had just forgotten, but you mentioned that Lydia had made some enemies after "what happened with her and Jude" ... 👀 What did happen exactly? 👀 Or is that character lore not unlocked yet 🤭

lore! lore! lore!

Lidya & Jude - Origin Stories

(cws: bullying, suicidal ideation, murder, character death, mild sexual implication, unholy world lore)

Lidya never really had friends before she went to MC--as a succubus of her pedigree she had never spent time in the world of humans, nor had she really left the Underworld at all. When she started attending (encouraged by her dear old uncle Lucifer) she had such a bad attitude and a terrible reputation off the bat that nobody would be caught dead hanging around her. She'd show up in class, hang out behind the counter at the arcade, and lock herself in her dorm until the cycle repeated. Day in and out, never changing her routine and constantly harbouring a deep, lingering resentment towards the monsters that would make fun of her clothes and her makeup and everything else about her. She'd scroll past photos and videos people would take of her in class with cruel captions of all kinds, until eventually she just ended up smashing it and started flipping through comic books instead. "Rage Demon" painted on her bedroom door that was meant to hurt, but she ended up turning the insult into embroidery on her t-shirts and jewelery she crafted in Silver & Finery class.

That was before she met him. Although the culture of the campus has been prized for generations, the bullying situation hasn't been the greatest--Judas was no exception, although the two of them only knew of each other when he wandered into the arcade for the first time.

Jude was, in some ways, the complete opposite of Lidya. When they met he was all smiles all the time, laughing and joking and teasing her in that affectionate way when they'd only known each other a couple minutes. He'd been the closest she'd ever gotten to a human, because he wasn't human anymore, but was a long time ago. He told her stories of his flaming red hair and piercing, steely eyes and the sword he carried with a golden handle, a human who was a hero long, long ago, reduced to something lesser now. She always thought they were bullshit but they still made her smile, and so he would come day after day and interrupt her routine just because he felt like it. They'd have fierce competitions for hours on end and after just a few weeks of friendship, they'd put their hands on every single cabinet multiple times over. They'd disagree and argue and scream at the top of their lungs but they would never be serious--sometimes it would blow over in minutes, sometimes it would just be to scare people away from bothering them. But they knew each other inside and out and it would make their lives so much harder from then on.

Although he loved to boast his strength and his valour with a sword and called himself a knight, Jude knew he would never live long enough to graduate. As a former fount of lichen power that had now been drained back into its master, Judas' body had started degrading and the slope of his health was only getting steeper. His classmates and other students would prey on him just as they did Lidya, mocking his terrible attendance and the gaunt look in his eyes as the telltale signs of a cheap junkie; little did they know that he was dying, and that every breath became a mountain he was growing further and further from climbing. He'd gotten so good at masking his tiredness, depression, and fear, but it wouldn't be long before Lidya would notice just how sick he was and that he wasn't long for this world.

And how ironic! Because as willing as he'd once been to end this wretchedly unassuming existence he had lived, Jude's last year of life had been the most fulfilling of any he'd lived before. He had a friend whom he loved more dearly than family, more than even a lover, yet it was the sickest he'd ever been and the most painful days he survived. She would play him her angry, violent, rumbly music that blew out his eardrums, and he would read her those long, stale, sappy fantasy poems and prose until she fell asleep, and neither would be nearly as happy alone anymore. One could not be found without the other. They were inseparable, and swore to be so in death as well as life.

But even as a denizen of the Underworld, Lidya had no control over the strings of fate. The promises she made to him that she would keep his soul safe when he passed were destined to be broken. He was, after all, a servant in service of a lich--whether by his choice or not, he would pay the toll of highest necromancy magic the Underworld offers: being fed to Chaos and sent into the throes of darkest oblivion forever.

One could imagine how poorly that went for the Fated Ones themselves, laughing in the face of her frenzied plea to let innocent Judas free. Lidya could have passed for the once-freed Chaos himself on that day as she razed the Fates' dwelling in a blinded rage, violently tearing each of their ancient selves apart in response to their callous disregard for his tender victimhood. He would have accepted that fate just to reassure her regardless of his own terror of his soul being chewed into a void, yet instead he would be greeted by his closest friend half-dead on his doorstep but victorious. Clutching the precious treasure she had ripped from the ring of the eldest fate; a pearl of life now empty in death, a priceless soul orb.

Anyone who has even the slightest knowledge of demonry and soul collection knows of the elusive soul orb. Perhaps the only way one could house a soul free from influences both holy and unholy, the soul orb seals and protects the life stored inside it eternally, if and until it is shattered by enough force to move mountains. Scholars often consider the pearl that sprung Eden as the very first of this creation, or at very least the legend of it, but few have ever encountered one--much less one of the pure and unshattered variety, suitable for housing a chosen spirit. Perhaps the one Lidya fought for was the only one remaining of such purity. It could have forever been priceless in the hands of the right buyer, placed in the perfect museum to teach and inspire the masses.

But instead, Lidya offered it to her best friend on his deathbed, and in a moment of weakness and selfish fear Judas accepted the gift. In a contract bound by most unholy tenets, Lidya......"extracted" his soul, in the way that succubi do, and interred his spirit forever in the purest form of magic known to the modern and ancient world. Thereby royally pissing off each and every scholar, suitor, noble, and legend in both the Holy Lands and especially the Unholy ones, every finger pointed at the rebellious error of demon inheritance to Lucifer's throne. Lidya's sacrifice of one of the Underworld's most precious artifacts, not to mention the killing of the few ancient gods that remained since the old age, all in the name of a worthless surface monster would ensure she would never outlive the ire and violence pitted against her by all her godly acquaintances and relatives.

But was it worth it? Of course. Worth every moment of agony and every eon she has yet to suffer for her crimes. Worth each and every glare in the royal halls and on campus grounds, worth the venom spat from her kin and the whispers between her classmates as they gossip about her betrayal--not just for the artifact, but for the soul she clearly manipulated that poor, sick monster into handing over who she was just stringing along. Definitely worth the days and nights she spent locked up in the arcade's back room, her blood pumping with excess caffeine as she worked her fingers bloody to construct a proper body for Jude's new chapter of life. For hours he sat as nothing but a misty, warm-to-the-touch orb perched on a pillow off her bed, his voice a whisper she leaned in to listen to as he would give her tips on what to add. How to angle her brush to paint those gorgeous, flowing scenes down the sides of the cabinet. The colour of his hair in the pixels. The gleam off his sword as it shone in synthetic light. Lidya worked tirelessly and in weeks it was finished; The Adventures of Jude she wanted to call it, but with only a dabble of paint left she could only spell out "JUDAS" in those big, blocky letters. But he liked it. He loved it. It was his dream and it had all come true.

And that was all she ever really wanted. As she slotted Jude's orb into that safe, protective casing inside the machine she built for him, booted him up, and watched as his pixelated self came into his own, she could finally breath a sigh of relief. To build a world where he could live his dream every day, unburdened, free from the binds of body and soul, was worth every drop of blood spilled and every black mark on her permanent record without a shadow of a doubt.

[thewatercolours]

King Quest Ficlet: "Always on Hand"

Note: This is an unfinished scene. I ran out of steam, and summarized how it would finish at the end.

After taking the throne, Graham found fewer opportunities to visit the old Llewdor homestead. He had to grasp such chances firmly by the scruffs. If he did not, other needs would press on his time and make it vanish. Then one evening he would have a nightcap that tasted just too much like the golden bitter his mother and Madeline used to brew and sell to the local tavern, just to keep bread on the table. Or he would find himself strolling in the gazebo courtyard, and realize he could no longer picture the ivy back home – only that he had noticed the differences when he first arrived. And the longing to tread roads that knew his boots would set in, stronger and stronger, until he had to go.

The first time, Royal Guard Number One took an entire week just plotting the trip out. He marked maps in red ink. He arranged for enough provisions to equip a polar expedition. Amaya was commissioned to outfit half a dozen guards with new weaponry. (“Can we even afford this?” “Your safety is our priority, sire.” “But we can’t even pay to have the castle roof patched!” “It already needs patching. You don’t, and we’d like to keep it that way.”) The whole trip was pushed back by a month just for preparation time.

Graham bit his tongue.

The guards made quite the sight at the farmhouse, posting themselves on either side of the ladder that led up to the loft which had been Graham’s childhood bedroom, ramrod stiff. Guard Number Three went through a phase where she taste-tested every food Rosie served up, because it “wasn’t prepared in the royal kitchens. And according to the handbook, we are to assume it is, (sniff, sniff,) suspect.”

Madeline and Ginger tried to put a brave face on it and crack all the inside jokes despite the outsiders, but it wasn’t the same. Especially with the running commentary Guards Number One and Two kept up when they thought the family was not listening. “The noses on this family, though. I’d assumed the king’s nose was some kind of… exception.”

Rosie took to setting tea for the guards on the lawn, just so she could get some space alone with the family, and so that private conversations did not have to be whispered. “I’m racking my brain,” she told Graham in an undertone as they watched the guards through the diamond-paned window, “whether there’s some sightseeing I could suggest for them. You know, so they’d, um, give us an afternoon off. But darned if I can think of any sights round here.”

Ginger stroked her chin. “Maybe we could take them round to the ol’ griffin cave down by the river, and we could be really loud so it would wake up. And while they’re distracted by the griffin,  we could slip off and -”

“Ginger!”

“Just saying, they’ve got two swords apiece. They’d be fine.”

But Rosie put her foot down.

Three or four years into his reign, Graham had to put own foot down. “No guards,” he said firmly the day before he was due to set out for Llewdor. “None.”

Number One crossed his arms sternly. “Out of the question. You are-”

“ - perfectly fine traveling on my own,” Graham all but snapped, crossing own arms as though in mirror image. “You know I made my way to the tournament here completely alone, right? You know I recovered the three treasures alone, right? And you take up half the house when you’re there. You eat my mom and sisters out of house and home!”

“But sire –“

“For Pete’s sake, Number One! Putting a crown on my head didn’t turn me into china!”

“You were literally –“ The captain caught himself, then seemed to think better of it. “- literally kidnapped from Daventry Square not so long ago.”

He had something of a point. But, “That was a few years ago! I’ve leveled up since then. And I’ve worked hard to move on from all of that. It seems to me part of that is having some confidence that nothing of the kind’s going to happen again.” Graham stopped to catch his breath. “Look, I’ll compromise. I’ll take the main roads, and stay at inns where I can, and leave letters for the landlords to forward on to you. Zards, I’ll tie straps onto a cage of homing pigeons and wear it like a backpack, if that’s what it takes to get you off my back. Um, sorry,” he hastily corrected himself, feeling Number One’s glare even through his helmet. “I meant, if that’s what it takes to reassure you. Ten to one the magic mirror’s going to show what I’m up to the whole time anyway. Come on!” Graham summoned as charming a smile as he could in his frustrated state. “Meet me in the middle?”

Number One considered. “I might meet you at the 13.5% point. There’s a defensible-ish old guard house there, and it’s not that far from Daventry, and –“

“Not what I meant.”

To make short a long story, it took some haggling, but eventually Graham rode alone once again. Only Triumph heard his highway songs. There was no warm but careful politeness when his family opened the door. On the contrary, they tackled him. Fireside chats lasted into the wee hours, with no need to respect anyone’s carefully planned night patrol hours.

As the ancient grandfather clock chimed 2 o’clock, Madeline processed in from the kitchen with a steaming pan. “Anyone for seconds on hermit cookies? I’d just give them another couple of minutes - ” she said, even as her brother swiped one.

“Aaagh!” screamed Graham, dropping the cookie into the depths of the ancient sofa, and sucking his fingertips. “Zards-zards-zards!”

“Serve you right!” Ginger chuckled, bouncing Baby Jimmy on her hip. “You know that’s how Anisette lost one of her fingers in Puerto Pollo, right? Kind of.”

Graham fished for the cookie amongst the cushions. “Can you imagine if my guards were here?”

Ginger rolled her eyes. “Can I ever. Full blown emergency mode. That second guard would probably swan dive head first into the sofa, like you’d dropped your crown into the lake, or something. If you weren’t forbidden to eat it because it was more than one second.”

“You’re probably thinking of Number Three, not Number Two.” Graham gave up the search and reached for another cookie, using his shirt cuff as an oven mitt. “Matt would be more likely to

OK, this ficlet won’t resolve itself, and if I don’t do something soon, I’ll lose the drive to post it all together. So, in the spirit of that bullet points post, the general vision went like so:

Graham complains about the guards to his family but over the course of the scene actually describes some of the things he loves about them without knowing it.

Another quick scene takes places a few years later, when Valanice is preparing to move into the castle, and Graham’s mom and Madeline come to help with prep for the wedding and get to know her a bit. They end up having to work with the guards, who are surface level annoying but actually click really well with them, as we see through little hints.

Number One and Rosie get a one-on-one scene together. Though it’s never stated, it’s conveyed over the course of the scene that they begin to understand that in some respects, their relationships with Graham are similar, and that the other has a good deal more to them than meets the eye.

Montage, featuring the guards intersecting with Graham’s life. Adventures. Daily doings. Alexander’s kidnapping and disappearance. The guards are there, supporting, protecting, sometimes being doofuses but always reliably there.

Graham takes Valanice and Rosella to Llewdor for the first time. And the visit is awesome and everything but… at the end, Rosie says carefully, “Graham I haven’t seen your captain – or any of your guards – since you and Valanice got married. I was wondering, do you want to… bring them along next time?”

And Graham heartily agrees.

Cheesy! Corny! But soft one-shots is the name of the game.

[tmntxthings]

Hii, so I saw your story about the reader taking Leo’s swords. But could you make a part 2 where the reader try’s one more time not giving up and makes a portal? You can chose how it ends 😊

Sword Runaway Pt. 2

author’s note: of course~~~! hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff, slight cursing, crack

> part one <

—————————————————————————

It was the aftermath of a kickass slumber party! Everyone piled up in the living room with enough blankets and pillows to cover the entire floor. It had been a fun time, movies and pizza, video games and a dance marathon. You were more than tired but something kept you up. You silently sighed to yourself as your eyes opened and you rolled over for the fifteenth time. Mikey was passed out next to you, and Raph’s snoring could be heard nearby. April was on your other side, she had come prepared with earplugs and a sleeping mask. You’d have to remember that for next time. Leo you assumed was asleep next to her but from the end of the line you could see a screen light and knew Donnie was still up.

Man he never slept! You rolled back over facing Mikey who was sleeping spread eagle. You thought of taking your phone out and sneaking a picture to tease him with later but instead of doing any of that you sat upright. Donnie noticed and looked over at you, you didn’t seem shaken up or sweaty from a bad dream so he went back to scrolling. Wordlessly you got up and tried to be as silent as possible, this had Donnie’s eyes following after you, “Is everything okay?” He whispered to which you nodded, “Gotta pee,” and he left you alone after the tmi explanation. Sure that was a good excuse and now that you said it aloud you went a did your business…but before you went back to the living area you couldn’t help yourself. You made a pit stop at Leo’s room, going straight for the swords.

It had kind of bummed you out that Leo never really gave you a chance to prove if you could make a portal. Even if it was impossible to do one that far, you would be proud of yourself if even a tiny circle formed and could fit your pinky finger! You blew out a breath, feeling nervous because first off it was dark and you were alone. Second you knew these swords were dangerous no matter how much you had joked around last time, you had been careful despite how clumsy and dangerous you looked. Without any supervision it seemed all the more dangerous as you slowly spun the swords in your hands. “Fuck it,” you blew out a breath and poured all the concentration you could muster at 3 am in the morning.

Blue wisps and sparks danced up the length of the sword you held out, going in a small circle. Against all odds a tiny portal the size of your fist formed. You gasped, wait no, someone else gasped! At the doorway Leo was bleary eyed and mouth wide open. “Did you see that!” You whispered excitedly and he nodded more than a little dumbfounded but caught up quickly. “You’re a natural!” His voice was sleepy but proud as he beamed a smile at you. The portal was still going strong as you tentatively reached a hand through, watching as it disappeared and came out of the other end. “So cool!!” You gushed and Leo smirked, leaning against the doorframe, his head resting as he blinked sleepily. In contrast you were now wide awake as the portal finally closed with a blue flash of light.

“One more before bed!” You said as you went for a bigger portal one that would fit hopefully all of you. It took more effort and you were starting to sweat your arm twitching as you kept going in a larger circle. You breathed in through your nose out through mouth but it wasn’t enough! You blew out a disappointed breath, for some reason you thought it would work, if you believed in yourself enough… You hadn’t noticed Leo approach until you felt him raise your arm again, he was standing directly behind you. “Try again,” he murmured, this time he held your wrist, both your arms brushing against each other as he helped you make a bigger circle. It formed almost instantly! You jumped up and down in excitement and Leo couldn’t help but laugh. “We did it!!” you whisper exclaimed still trying to be quiet for the other’s sake.

“Wanna see where it goes?” Leo asked and before you could say yes he was pulling you through the portal, taking the swords from you gently. When you came out on the other side it wasn’t in Leo’s room, but out on a rooftop in New York. You felt a slight fuzziness in your brain and a roll of nausea. “Oh god does that happen every time?” You tilted sideways as Leo held you shoulders steadying you. “Yeah but when you do it as much as I do you get used to it,” he informed and smiled sheepishly, “sorry I probably should’ve warned you.”

You shook your head, the effects already wearing off as the wind blew past the two of you, giving you goosebumps. Even at 3:30 in the morning New York was still alive. Noises from the streets could be heard and you relaxed in Leo’s hold. “Wanna head back?” He said after a while and you nodded sleepily against him. Funny how he was more awake now, feeling you pressed against him, shivering from the cold wind. “Let’s go get you warmed up~” And with a quick circle and a flash of blue light he led you back into a portal. This time coming directly into the living area, though Donnie was no longer on his phone, finally asleep. Somehow April was now closer to Donnie a hand placed right next to Donnie’s you awed. You knew they were purely platonic but they were still such a cute pair of besties. That you had to take a quick picture of as Leo snickered quietly beside you.

So it seemed the two of you would be sleeping next to each other as you got settled in as he put his swords next to the projector. “Goodnight Lee,” you whispered and you felt him reach over and grab your hand, squeezing it tightly before letting go. “G’night Y/n” and you fell asleep feeling really warm on the inside.

“Delete it!” Leo whisper yelled as you groaned in your sleep. Hushed laughter could be heard around you and you snuggled in closer to your pillow. Rhythmic heart beats sped up immediately and you realized that this wasn’t a pillow. Slowly you opened your eyes, staring into a familiar plastron. “Why you two look adorable~~” April teased and the heartbeats only got louder. You raised your head and saw Leo blushing furiously at April who was waving a phone in both of your direction. The picture on the screen was the two of you tangled together quite embarrassingly and you couldn’t stop the blush that heated your cheeks. “How about a trade off?” You said showing April the picture you had taken last night to which a gasp was heard and the exchange was quickly made before anyone else woke up!

[fanfiction-artist-prototype]

Darling mutual of mine please please give me more about the first two snippets, like I'm wondering why the sect leader visited Shen Yuan, is it in any of your already mentioned works in progress? (Actually about the tea that the original Shen used to detect qi deviations, if it was drunk by the sect leader would he have any reaction because of the sword thing? Sorry I'm rambling)

And it was with those practice sheets strewn across his table that he reluctantly welcomed his Zhangmen-shixiong into his bamboo house. The man had had his familiar kicked dog eyes in full force when he'd gone to check who was knocking at his door, and he had been weak to it. He hadn't shown it, of course. No, he'd looked the sect leader up and down with a critical eye before snapping his fan open. Covering the bottom half of his face to hide the put upon downturn of his lips, before he'd welcomed the man in, instructing him to sit down whilst he made tea. A more minor but no less helpful boon of the muscle memory of the original Shen Qingqiu was how to prepare tea the ancient Chinese way.  Taking his time searching through the sachets he landed on a particularly sweet tea that had the unusual properties of becoming unnaturally sour when exposed to turbulent atmospheric qi. Shen Qingqiu suspected the original had used it to help detect when he was entering into a qi deviation.

So, I'll answer your questions segment by segment!

The sect leader visited SQQ bc of the fact that someone complained to him that Shen Qingqiu had a cool code language and wouldn't tell anyone about it and how it's totally unfair that just him (the sect leader) and SQQ get to know it! And so he went to investigate because of [redacted reasons explained later in the wip ;)]!!

Also the tea thing; so Yuan *thinks* it's to detect qi deviations and that is part of it, but also turbulent atmospheric qi makes it *super* bitter and it just so happens to be the tea OG!SQQ used every time the sect leader weaselled his way into having sit-down tea time with SQQ, so poor YQY always thought SQQ gave him tea that started sweet but turned super nasty the longer it seeps but it's literally just OG!SQQ projecting so much resentment at him that it turns his tea bitter! And hm, I hadn't considered it but yeah I bet the tea would also turn sour because of the whole sword issue and SQQ would just never notice because of the above explanation!! He's too busy causing literal psychic damage to the tea to notice!

And the provided context for this snippet is a au wherein Shen YUAN was the past life of Shen JIU and only a few small things were kept in his mind during the life cycle change like him having memories of two older brothers and a baby sister and english. (joke abt language teachers being a traumatic experience inserted here) And so little Shen Jiu teaches baby Yue Qi about this secret language only *he* can read, write and speak. And it's their code from then on.

Well, due to the system and the qi deviation that let it slip in, Shen JIU's memories and Shen YUAN's full past life memories were returned so for Shen YUAN it feels like transmigration but it's not. And to keep up his english skills for reasons explain a bit earlier on than the provided snippet he uses sheets of paper to keep his writing skills in tip top shape a rather intense argument is going to break out between SQQ and YQY over the contents of the sheet!

--

It was a testament to how well the sect leader hid his clingy muddle-mouthed side that people had thought Shen Qingqiu was acting irrational. Or spoilt for that matter. It was more like Shen Qingqiu was being bought with all these wonderfully expensive trinkets to either keep quiet about how much of a fool the sect leader was behind closed doors or about whatever had made the sect leader so foolish in the first place. Whatever it was must have been earth shattering for him to keep it up after the peak lord had lost most of his memories - maybe he feared that would be one thing Shen Qingqiu wouldn't forget, vindictive as his memories had seemed to make him. Or perhaps that had been one thing his shixiong had remembered, they were the only two in the room when the Qing Jing peak lord had arisen after his qi deviation after all.

And this second section!!

Ah, Liushen my beloved.

@vveirdnobdy and I are working on a liushen prompt list (sorry for the tag bestie) between ourselves atm and this is for the prompt 'bad habits' and since many of my ideas for the prompts revolve around my favourite liushen concept of courting and fan-returns it only felt right to have that be the focus of this prompt! But this particularly extract is from Liu Qingge's pov reminiscing on how SQQ has been really bitchy lately and comes to the (incorrect) conclusion it's because SQQ keeps having to have meetings with YQY bc he's accidentally intercepting covert correspondence.

What is actually happening is that SQQ is leaving little notes in his fans for his faithful shidi to find that are either confessing his feelings or flirting with LQG, but he's so dedicated to protecting the sanctity of their sect tactician's privacy he's never opened them and keeps returning them unopened. This leads to SQQ realising he's working against a brick wall but determined to push through anyway- leaving him very annoyed and then leads to LQG's above (incorrect) realisation.

[jordansgarden]

the seas couldn't keep me from you ⋆｡♡

mommy? sorry.

AAAANYWAYS im in love, she and i are girlfriends and ning is our third shared girlfriend. and kazuha's my boyfriend.

cw: few sexual themes, stupid nicknames lmao, drunk beidou in the hcs, poly relationship w bei and ning, just some fun fluff

this woman oh my god she is so bossy but it's like a hot way ykwim like she'll order you around and you'll be like "yes mommy"

she uses stupid nicknames for everyone. shut up no one asked you.

beidou loves drinking, have you seen her??? ever??? sometimes though, she'll be drinking someone under the table and yeah her tolerance is huge just like her cock but she's still fucked up

you have to carry her home. no, no you have to. you're not weak, you're dating her. oh? you thought she was your big strong protector? no dumbass she's the one dragging you into shit and you get yourself out.

you two'll be out on some mission ning sent you on and beidou will be standing right next to a tripwire and she'll literally look right at it and be like "wouldn't it be funny if i tripped it?"

you have to either stare her down or beg to get her to not. one time she was going to waltz on into a fatui camp cause she thought it was funny and she could take them all (which she totally could but ning would crucify the both of you) and you went "i'll let you eat me out if you don't."

the way she got on her knees. this isn't even a joke i'm being fr she got on her knees and looked up with that starry look that screamed "i'm madly in love with you".

anyway, she would try to trip a wire on purpose and you'd be the one making sure she didn't try to face tank a bomb.

point is, you're strong and used to her. so you carry her back to whatever inn you're staying at and the entire time she'll be mumbling shit.

"mmmmhaha~! hi pumpkinn, how you doin'?" "ya'know what, we should get married in inazuma, 'cause eternity and shit! kazuha can be our flower girl!!"

"cherry berry sweetie pie?" goofy ahh nicknames left right and center. you knew beidou was about to ask something wildly stupid.

without looking up, you continued to rummage through the large pile of papers. who knew the fatui loved paperwork? "do not touch it."

"wha- you don't even know what i was gonna say!" "i know it'll be dumb and the obvious answer is no. don't trip any wires, don't pull alarms, nothing." "c'monn, this is so boring though! moralicious is just making us do this cause she's mad i let you finish and not her, even though SHE was the one who did without permission and-"

hearing a noise, you pulled her to the entrance, hiding on the edge and covered her mouth. "mmph-!" "shh." you whispered straight into her ear, keeping an eye on the entrance to the cave the two of you were searching. "someone's coming."

beidou pulled your hand off, sticking her tongue out at you. you stayed unfazed, keeping a hand on your dagger. she noticed, and saw a little tassel charm on the handle. the charm was the one she gave you!!

"you kept it!" "bei', shut up. you'll give us away ag-"

"HEY! WHO'S IN THERE?!"

"..shit." laughing, beidou stepped out into the entrance and drew her greatsword.

"come and get me!"

you sighed and pulled out your sword, realizing you two were not getting out of this with just one casualty. she was going to get herself injured just for the fun of it and you gotta clean up the pieces, but it's okay because you secretly enjoyed it too.

but ning was not very happy.