#oh? a prime target?

[kashmimo]

baby pokemon trainers 🐣

[snowberry-pie]

game time. if your ocs were popular fictional characters how exactly would fandom violently butcher and misinterpret their characters

[transingthoseformers]

Oh wait a thought i had while asleep!

So, Optimus dies as he tends to do and get this a Decepticon gets the matrix. Like, the Matrix of Leadership chooses them like yep you're the new prime now yep yep

Decepticon panic time ensues

[hartlow]

why are people my age the way that they are. you ask the chat what's up and this 16 y/o you've never talked to before is like "oh it's going bad, my mom hit me bc she isn't handling the divorce well" and it's like?? dude i'm sorry that happened to you but maybe don't tell complete strangers extremely personal information about yourself like that. 1. not everyone is prepared to hear something so triggering unprompted 2. bad people will absolutely want to use that sensitive information against you. for the love of god learn about internet safety

[cosmic-radiocity]

They made this nintendo direct specifically for me btw

[killjoy-prince]

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Love how I was right to assume mom would lose her shit by morning with no living room TV remote because look what she did as soon as she failed to find it again.

[ateliersss]

Part 3 - He Shan‘t Lose

Pairing: Yautja x F!Reader Summary: Mere two months ago, you returned home after the incident on Earth. Now you were back, ready to indulge yourself and go on the weekly "date night" with your mate. If only your unborn pup had better timing… Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 6,716 Part 1: here Part 2: here Masterlist

⇨ Oh, I missed my Mi‘ytiar.

⇨ I can't believe I finally got this done and I'm able to present this to you. Also, my birthday, guys! God, I'm 20 and I already feel old. Please spoil me with comments, re-blogs and likes.

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

“Be'jaa, go! Go! Good boy.” You laughed as you watched your four-legged companion chase after the trail he had scented.

Hell Hounds, they were called, and probably the closest thing to a pet you could get on Yautja Prime. You learned quickly, after your first encounter with them, that they were similar to the hounds on Earth, and like hounds on Earth, they had one purpose — hunting prey.

Unlike a curious Beagle, a devoted Pointer, or a stubborn Basset Hound, Hell Hounds were more similar to Yautjas than dogs, both in looks and characteristics. But you still could recognize some traits that reminded you of your childhood dog.

You didn’t hunt with Hell Hounds often — it was more special and intimate when it was just you and Mi‘ytiar — but your mate had insisted that at least one of them should accompany you. As experience showed, the two of you had to split up at times; sometimes he also kept in the shadows, high on top of a tree, to watch you hunt on your own. It was simply a safety measure.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t handle the prey on your own. The creatures you hunted were either as small as a cat or as big as a horse. They were insignificant opponents, laughable for a Yautja and not nearly on their hunting standard, but Mi‘ytiar felt different. He didn‘t care how tiny or weak the prey was compared to him.

It wasn't about him, after all.

Those hunts were solely for you, so you could be a part of his culture without him having to worry about endangering your life. 

He had been ecstatic when you voiced your wish years ago for him to teach you how to hunt, how to track, and kill as it was custom on his home planet. And even now, after you had exceeded his expectations, he still was immensely proud of you every time you succeeded.

No, Be'jaa wasn’t only there for tracking or for flushing out his targets, but also for guarding. You were in the final stages of your pregnancy, and your strength, your speed, and your stamina had decreased, leaving you more vulnerable should prey ambush you. 

Speaking of him, he had been gone for quite some time.

“Be'jaa?” You called, whistled, and waited for a moment for him to return to you.

When you neither could hear him bark, or see him running towards you, you tried calling him again, “Be'jaa?”

And again.

“Be–”

The other half of his name turned into a strained whimper as a stabbing pain pierced through your body, coming from your stomach. You stifled a scream, but when something wet suddenly ran down your legs, a shaky breath escaped your lips.

You knew what this meant.

Your water just broke.

“Oh no. Not now, my sweetling.”

Clutching your stomach, breathing in and out, you slowly approached a tree and practically slumped against it. One of your hands gripped the meaty texture of the tree trunk for support, the other snaked down and between your thighs. When you pulled your hand back, it was coated with the clear substance of the amniotic fluid.

And blood. There was also blood on your fingers, but it was nothing too alarming. When you had been pregnant with Akail, there had been blood too, but it was still an unsettling sight to you.

“Ahhh!” You cried out as another wave of agonizing pain washed through you, your head thrown back.

As much as you had enjoyed the mostly perfect pregnancy, you had completely forgotten about birthing the pup at the end. Maybe you had just pushed the whole thing aside since the mere memory of Akail‘s birth was still able to instill that deep-rooted dread within your body.

You went into labor when both moons were at their zenith.

Mi’ytiar, who had slept peacefully next to you, was hovering over you the second you tried to wake him up. 

It took one panicked look from you and he knew what was going on. 

He got up from his lying position on your nest and knelt beside you.

You had already pushed the furs you used as a blanket to the side and he saw your legs shining with moisture in the moonlight.

“My water broke.” You faintly answered his silent question. “Our little one is coming.”

Mi’ytiar was on high alert as he knew what that meant. 

He tried to lift you into his arms, his mind fully set on bringing you to Cahrein, the healer, but unfortunately, a contraction hit you right at that moment. The pain plus the one you felt as Mi’ytiar lifted you up ripped a heart-wrenching scream from your throat. 

It hurt so very much that you punched him out of instinct, an instinct telling you to do anything to stop the pain, hitting him right in the face.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Oh God, Mi‘ytiar. I’m so sorry.”

His heart clenched at that. 

You shouldn’t apologize. He’d barely felt the impact anyways, your human strength too weak to actually hurt him, but he didn’t deserve to not feel anything. 

He should have felt pain, should have been knocked from his feet.

He had hurt you, had caused you more pain than you were already feeling.

You noticed the guilty expression on your mate’s face and grabbed his hand. “It’s okay, tahní. It‘s o–”

You cut yourself off as you pressed your lips together while another contraction hit you.

“–kay. It’s okay.” You panted, “Just get Cahrein.”

Mi’ytiar shook his head determinedly as he placed his free hand on yours, which clasped his other hand in a death grip. 

“Cannot leave you.” He growled.

Another contraction made you cry out, “Mi’ytiar, please!”

It took a lot of persuasion for him to finally leave your side to get the healer.

You understood that he didn‘t want to leave you on your own, out of fear something bad would happen to you if he let you out of his sight only for a second, but you needed Cahrein to deliver your son safely.

The healer had gotten to work as soon as his eyes met your tiny, withering body. Putting aside the various instruments he had taken with him — you recognized them from one of your visits where he had shown you which ones he used for births — he helped you to remove the panties that you wore with the little piece of clothing you called nightie, which you had already pulled up, over your bulging stomach, and out of the way.

Usually, you and your mate slept naked with nothing shielding you from each other’s skin, but since you got closer and closer to due-day you wanted to be prepared. You wanted to keep at least a little of your dignity, not wanting to lie completely bare in front of Cahrein. 

Even though you knew he wouldn‘t care, taking his job far too seriously for that, your body in all its naked glory was meant for Mi’ytiar‘s eyes and Mi’ytiar‘s eyes only.

With your mate on one side and the healer on the other, you spent hours in indescribable agony.

Mentally, you were so far gone, blacking out for a second here and there. You barely caught how Mi’ytiar was insistently talking to you, or how Cahrein alternately injected you with a transparent and a bright green fluid.

It felt like a miracle when the unbearable pain decreased bit by bit, but not fully disappeared. Your fuzzy mind and your blurry view started to clear. 

With the pain now more bearable, you could finally focus on the natural instinct that told you to push.

What you didn’t know was that the following screams and cries woke up the clan in alarm, gathering almost everyone in front of your home, eagerly awaiting the new addition. 

This occasion was special, after all. Their fierce and mighty leader was expecting his first pup, something no one had expected to happen. Ever.

The tense uncertainty inside and outside of your home dissipated as soon as the whiny squeals of your newborn pup finally filled the air.

“Such a bad timing, my sweetling.” You mewled.

Tears were gathering in your eyes and you quickly blinked them away. You didn’t know if it was because of the pain of the contractions, which were now four minutes apart, or out of fear of being all alone in a hostile environment.

With your tongue between your teeth, you waited until the pain subsided, fully intending to call for your mate, but when you did, his name only escaped your lips in a short-winded whisper.

It was like you couldn’t breathe.

Biting back a sob, you formed your hand into a fist and hit your chest repeatedly, trying to get yourself to breathe regularly again. And when you thought you had enough air in your lungs, you bellowed, “Mi’ytiar!”

Your breath hitched and tears finally streamed down your cheeks. You bend your upper body forward, towards the tree, and pressed the palms of your hands against the tree trunk. With your head facing the ground, tears left your eyes, and rolled down the bridge of your nose before dripping down the tip to the forest floor.

You were crying and panting, your body clenching every time another contraction hit you.

“Mi’ytiar, please, please… I need you… please, please.” You begged, your voice barely audible.

Contentment.

That’s all you could feel as you adjusted your lying position on the soft fur and the woolen and cotton fabrics of your nest. It was living up to its name as it reminded you of an actual nest, a bird’s nest; just as round but with more comfortable materials. Mi’ytiar had been very picky, something that amused you to no end.

That and the fireplace embedded into the floor, enclosing the round platform the nest was on, kept you warm and cozy.

You and the pup that was sleeping on your chest.

Little Akail let out little purrs while he enjoyed the warmth of his mother’s body that kept him tranquil and happy.

Only ten hours old and he already had such a significant place in this clan and his parent’s hearts.

You hummed quietly to your pup, only looking up from the endearing sight when Mi’ytiar entered your home and came to a halt in front of your nest, taking in the very welcome view of his (tantalizing naked) mate and his newborn son.

“Don’t get any ideas.” You warned him playfully when you noticed his heated gaze racking over your body.

“Back on Earth, some parents hold their babies like this. The skin and warmth forges a strong bond between them and the baby can get used to its parents’ touch.” You explained, your fingers slowly caressing Akail‘s back.

Mi’ytiar only clicked his mandibles in acknowledgment before he started to take off his armor and his traditional clothing as clan leader. 

You had to bite your lower lip, reminding yourself of your own scolding words only seconds ago, but you simply couldn’t help yourself. Your mate was a fine specimen, a strong and gorgeous Yautja. You were one hell of a lucky woman.

You watched him get on the nest, now only dressed in his loin cloth, and he moved on his knees towards you. 

You wrapped an arm around Akail — still curled up into a ball with his head tucked under your chin and his feet resting on your belly — and got up into a sitting position.

Mi’ytiar grabbed you by your thigh and hip, lifted you up, and pulled you to him so you were sitting on his thighs while your legs were wrapped around the width of his hips.

He looped his arms around you, drawing you into an embrace, so little Akail was now nestled between both of his parents’ warm bodies.

The smile that had grown on your lips since the moment Mi’ytiar had entered your home was now so bright and wide your cheeks started to hurt. 

But you didn’t really care. You couldn‘t hide the sheer happiness you were feeling right now at this moment.

You felt movement against your throat and above the valley of your breasts, and when you looked down as best as you could manage, you saw Akail nuzzle his face into your skin while his tiny hand was now lying on your chest where your heart was beating.

You wanted to cry happy tears.

You had never expected to become a mother, never planned on it, never even remotely wanted it if you were being honest, but having your baby now in your arms made every antipathy disappear. 

You placed a soft kiss on Akail‘s head, using as little pressure as possible so he wouldn’t wake up.

“He’s perfect.” You whispered and looked up at Mi’ytiar who was already watching you intently. “Are you happy?”

He cocked his head to the side, his chest vibrating when he confirmed, “Happy.”

He felt Akail‘s small body against his own, felt his tiny body press against his every time he was breathing.

Breathing.

A beating heart.

Alive.

He loosened the embrace of one of his arms around your body to reach between the two of you and for his son, his fingers tracing from Akail‘s forehead to the back of his head — there, he had the same scale pattern as his father, only with reversed colors — and from his temple over the hints of dreads on each side of his little head with his thumb.

Akail was indeed perfect, just like his mother, and he loved him with all his heart already, but the price he almost had to pay for having him here…

“I thought I would lose you today.” He admitted, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

You lifted your head from where it had been resting on his chest to look up at him with a small smile.

“For a second, I thought I would never see you again. I thought I would never meet our son." You nodded, thinking about the sharp pain and the feeling of life leaving your body as your pup fought his way out of you. “But Cahrein had prepared me as well as he was able to. He helped me through it. Who knows, hadn’t he injected me with your blood…”

You trailed off when Akail began to stir. You quickly started to rock him up and down, luring him back to sleep.

“He’s a very gifted male. I’ve trusted him with my life since the first time we visited him together after my arrival here so many moons ago.”

You adjusted your arm and its hold on Akail, the other reached up and cupped Mi’ytiar’s cheek. You let your fingertips glide over the scaly texture of his skin and dragged them over his jaw to his chin, down his throat to the middle of his chest.

“He also told me that I would be able to give you another pup in a foreseeable future…”

Mi’ytiar frowned, asking skeptically, “After what you gone through today?”

You shrugged and leaned your head forward, your cheek pressed against his pec. “I’m not talking about now or tomorrow, my love, but someday. In a few years, maybe.”

Mi’ytiar bristled, a loud rumble shaking his torso. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” He shook his head, a very human gesture in your eyes. “You almost died.”

You smiled into his skin. Protective through and through, even when it came to his own offspring.

You were incredibly lucky to be chosen by a Yautja like him. 

It was rare for them to be interested in a human. It was rarer for them to treat that human-like an equal instead of a slave or one of many lovers. It was the rarest for a human to be injected with Yautja blood to largely adapt to their DNA and enable life on their planet.

And Mi’ytiar told you himself — you were the only human ever being Life-Mated to a Yautja who carried his offspring and had a similar leading role as him as the mate of a leader; all in one.

You were the rarest of the rarest, a uniqueness, something completely new.

But humans had birthed Yautja-Human-hybrids long before you, most of them more than one or two.

“The next time will be different, Mi’ytiar. My body will be stronger and mentally I will be more prepared.” You told him and peppered his chest with feather-light kisses before you looked up at him again, a loving smile on your lips. “You shan’t lose me.”

You whimpered in relief when you finally heard the familiar growling bark of a Hell Hound. 

“Be'jaa!” You called, “I’m… here!”

You felt something move under you and fill the free space between your bend-over position against the tree. You opened your eyes, which you had closed to calm yourself and your breath, and looked down to see the Hound’s face already fixed on yours.

“N‘yaka-de. Get him.” You panted and watched as Be'jaa turned around to run.

When he suddenly stopped to walk hesitantly back to you, not liking the fact he was about to leave you behind who was obviously in distress, you stomped with your foot and yelled, “Be'jaa, fucking now!”

He darted off and you felt a tinge of guilt for lashing out. After all, he was loyal and a surprisingly good cuddle partner.

“Argh!” You cried out when another stabbing sensation almost made your legs give out.

Once again it felt like you were being torn apart, but at least you didn‘t feel like you were closer to death than life like at Akail‘s birth over 30 years ago. You were kind of proud of yourself, actually, considering you were still able to stand. 

Yeah, standing against a tree for support instead of lying in your warm and soft nest where you had actually planned to deliver your second pup. You didn‘t want to give birth in an unsafe environment, with no Mi’ytiar and no Cahrein. 

But who would have expected that your pup was ready to be welcomed into the world on a hunt?

You did. 

You had felt premature labor pains for two days now, but you hadn’t paid them any mind as Akail was born only six days after those pains had started. 

But even those pains had felt different in those two days, so why hadn‘t you just listened to your body when it undoubtedly told you “No!” while you answered Mi’ytiar‘s question “Hunt?” with an enthusiastic “Yes!” ?

You knew the answer to that, too. 

While women on Earth had to stop certain activities at one point in their pregnancy and were limited in their doings, Yautja females could still follow their everyday lives throughout their whole pregnancy. Meaning, they could still jump from one obstacle to another, chase their prey, and kill it. 

Thinking that you were able to do that too had been utterly stupid and arrogant, but you just didn’t want to seem weak. Yes, the clan had accepted you and saw you as one of them, as the mate of their leader, but you couldn’t stop the suffocating need to prove yourself again and again.

It was unnecessary. Mi’ytiar had told you that, Cahrein had told you that, the Females you liked to spend your time with and considered friends told you that and, hell, even a few Males that were close to your mate told you that.

But here you were, crying and groaning when another contraction cursed through your body. You regretted leaving your cozy home, regretted not being pampered by your loving mate in your nest, and regretted leaving your son behind, who had been by your side all the time, hovered over you in case he had to step in should you need anything in your state, followed you around like a lost puppy if you weren’t napping in your nest.

It reminded you of the time when he had been much younger and much smaller. He had been practically attached to your hip and everywhere you went, he was there. He had been such an adorable and shy little boy. Who were you kidding? He still was, but you missed those times anyway. He had grown up too fast.

You were nervous.

With your arms wrapped tightly around your body, you watched the hustle and bustle in the distance. They were preparing for the departure of the five Young Bloods who would soon leave for a faraway world to hunt and complete their initiation into Adulthood.

Among them was your son, your Akail, who would leave you for who knows how long to presumably search for the largest and most dangerous beast and kill it to prove himself.

Just like his father, you thought.

In the first year of your relationship, Mi'ytiar had told you everything imaginable about himself, and one evening about his own initiation ritual. He had told you how reckless and sure of himself he had been as a Young Blood, how he threw himself into danger to impress his clan.

Although that had secured his position as leader, he’d summoned his son the day before to admonish him to proceed with caution, to be logical and strategic, and to not let arrogance control him.

Lost in worried thoughts, you didn't notice as Mi'ytiar approached you, dropped to one knee, and pulled you to his torso with his strong arms. He nuzzled his face into your hair, his mandibles running through it.

He loved your hair. It was just as soft as the rest of you.

“What on your mind, yawne?” He asked.

“I’m scared.” You breathed.

“On your home planet, oomans worry too when child leaves?”

You put your hand on one of his arms that was wrapped around you. “They do, but not like this. On Earth, human children leave the safety of their homes every day to go to school, to learn, and then they will return. In a few hours Akail will leave the safety of his home to finish school, so to say, but will he return?” You told him absentmindedly, your attention still fixed on the ship. “Human parents don't have to fear that particular day when their children go on a journey to possibly get killed just because of a custom.”

You felt his arms tighten around you. “Do not be scared.” He said.

“I can’t help it. I’m his mother.”

Mi'ytiar let out a chuckle that sounded more like a growl than an actual laugh.

“And I his father.” He said and turned you around, not loosening the close embrace. “I trained him well. Made him strong and made him smart. Doubting my skills, yawne?”

Although he had already lowered himself, reducing his height to be closer to you, you still had to raise your head to look at him.

God, you loved his eyes. Even though there were rare variations at times among their kind — sometimes a lighter shade, sometimes a darker shade, sometimes more orange than yellow — the eyes of all Yautja had the same color.

But to you, Mi'ytiar’s eyes were different, even though one couldn’t possibly spot a difference when he was standing next to other Yautja. To you, they were brighter, more intense, more expressive. Or maybe it was just the way he looked at you, with so much gentle affection and love you wouldn't credit a beast of his stature with.

“Of course, I’m not. I could never.”

You suddenly could feel large arms engulfing your body from behind, pulling you into an upright-standing position, and you just let yourself instinctively fall into their embrace.

You knew those limbs, knew their warmth and their strength.

“Mi’ytiar, the pup… the pup is coming.” You panted and dug your fingernails into his forearm.

You felt him move behind you. He lifted you up, his arms supporting your back and the back of your knees as he held you to his torso. He briefly registered how you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck before he took off.

He ran like he never did. At the same time, he was careful not to let your body jolt around too much as he jumped over fallen tree trunks and climbed rocks to reach the Scout Ship while you clung to him.

Every time a contraction hit, he could feel your body tense in his arms and your mouth press against his chest as you muffled another scream.

Oh, how he wished he could take away the pain, but at least it wasn’t as horrible as it was at Akail’s birth.

Mi’ytiar remembered your glistening tears and your little withering body, how you had squeezed his hand so hard that even he had felt pain, and how you had begged both him and Cahrein to stop it. Especially the fear of death in your eyes haunted him to this day.

He had almost lost you — you, his precious human — all those years ago and it had been his entire fault.

The possibility of becoming a father had been zero, non-existent, and at one point in his life, he had accepted the fact that he may be not meant to be a father. He stopped caring and someday just forgot about it entirely. The wish to continue his line like any proud leader faded away and instead he settled for the idea of passing on his knowledge and experiences to the pups and Younglings of his people.

Then he met you, this petite beautiful thing, when he was lounging on a building near an alley. He heard you before he saw you, heard you and them.

They were calling you strange names and were whistling after you before they decided to follow you down the street. Trying to escape them, you took a left turn and quickened your strides as you crossed the alley.

Mi’ytiar, who was attracted by the noises, slid down the rooftop and soundlessly landed on the metal balcony of one of the apartments. Even from the third floor, he had a perfect view of what was happening down in the alley as the men grabbed you, pushed and pulled on you, and he felt mildly impressed when you started fighting back; kicking, scratching and screaming.

The men’s playful, taunting behavior quickly turned fatal when one of them, fed up with your attempts to flee, slapped you so hard across the face that you stumbled back, tripped over your own feet and fell backwards to the ground.

Your screams quickly turned desperate when one of them pushed up your skirt and tore on your panties, mumbling something about teaching you a lesson, while his companions held you down.

At this point, Mi’ytiar knew something had been wrong. Mating between a Yautja male and female consisted of fighting each other, too, but not like this; not with more than one male and not with the female resisting long after the male fought the female into submission.

Your behavior told him everything he needed to know — you weren’t even close to being interested in mating with those males — and before things could get any worse, he jumped down and killed those who forced themselves on you.

By the time four bodies in various morbid states of dismemberment were littering the alley, your whole body was trembling as you stayed on the ground, cowering.

He had crouched down to your level and one of his bloodied claws reached out to touch your face, your horror-widened eyes watching him with caution.

To him, you were what a kitten was to a human. You were so small, he noted, so small and soft and pink. He also thought you were beautiful, contrastive to what Yautja usually thought about your kind. He took you with him that night and the rest was history.

Even though you weren’t a suitable mate, his clan begrudgingly accepted the idea of a human being with their leader. He couldn’t have pups anyway, so why not just let him indulge himself and let him seek happiness and pleasure in other things?

And then, one day, you told him about your wish to carry his pup. He had been excited, absolutely ecstatic, but not about the image of your rounding belly with his offspring — he knew he was unable to have one — and rather about the fact that you were willing to mate with him in a way that could lead to a child. The fact you loved him and trusted him enough was all he cared about.

As much as he loved his son, he should have done something the second both of you learned that you were pregnant. He had been so overjoyed his human mate was extraordinarily able to have his pup that he never thought about possible consequences.

Anyone would have had serious doubts and would have objected because there was no way a human would survive that, but Mi’ytiar didn’t, too blown away by the prospect of becoming a father.

That changed as the day of the pup being due crept closer and closer, and slowly worry and fear set in.

And to make one thing clear: if you hadn’t been injected with Yautja blood from the beginning — first daily, then weekly, then monthly, until it stopped years ago — you wouldn’t have made it and Akail would have torn you apart from the inside out.

He was glad that Cahrein had kept a cool head and realized that his blood would help you when all other means had failed.

It was like history was repeating itself as he tried to focus on the task at hand — getting you to the ship — and not let the fluid running down his arms and body distract him. He wished he hadn’t dared to look down, to look down and see the blood you were losing, coming from a source that was his fault.

Why did he let you convince him to have a second pup? Why did the mere thought of getting you pregnant again make him so ignorant of your near-death experience? Why did he listen to Cahrein when he told the both of you that another pup was possible? Why did he forget that you weren’t like his kind?

His heavy, thumping footsteps suddenly sounded different, and when you pulled your face away from his chest to look around, you noticed the soft earth of the forest had been replaced by the cold metal of the ship.

As careful and gentle as he could in his rattled state, he put you down on the closest surface he could find — the table used for planning, briefing, and orientation with several holo-maps — and slammed his fist down on the surface. He growled and hissed a few words you couldn’t understand. Your translating earpieces were perfectly fine, but your brain was only picking up the pain shooting through your body instead of noticing any stimuli from your surroundings.

You were so out of it, the tears blurring your view, that you missed the conversation between Mi’ytiar and the holographic image of Cahrein.

“Mi’ytiar.” Cahrein greeted his leader in the customary way of placing his left fist on the right side of his chest while slightly bowing down his head.

“The pup is coming.” Mi’ytiar said without hesitation, straight to the point.

Cahrein rounded the table to stand next to him and he leaned over you to get a better look at you. He reached out to grab your calves to open your legs, but his hands went right through you.

“Pauk. I can’t help her like this. You have to bring her here.”

“No.” You cried out, answering before Mi’ytiar could even open his mouth. “The pup is coming now.”

Cahrein looked conflicted, contemplating about what to do next as he was restricted in his actions. He could already tell that this was going to be hard.

“Mi’ytiar, I packed a Medicomp for emergencies when you said you two would go hunt. Get it.”

You let out a whine when your mate disappeared from your side, which was quickly occupied by the healer who noticed your distress. “Calm, (Y/N), calm.”

“It hurts so much.” You cried out.

“I know.” He retorted and eyed the red fluid running down your thighs to your calves, dripping down your toes. “You need to take off clothes.”

With trembling hands, you started to open the pants-like cloth that hugged your legs like a second skin and circled them from your ankles up to your hips. You struggled with the complicated lacing and cursed as you began to rip on them out of frustration.

Bigger hands replaced yours and when you looked up, you saw that Mi’ytiar had returned and stood between your legs. He used his sharp claws to cut the cords open and he pulled the rest of the garment down. He was more considerate with the bloodied panties underneath and tried not to rip them, although you believed that they were irreversibly ruined.

The first and last time he had torn your panties to shreds, you had scolded him for it after he was done fucking you from behind like a dog in his rut. You didn’t have much of your human clothes left — most of it had been replaced by self-made clothes of local fabrics inspired by their style anyway — but what you definitely wanted to keep was your underwear. So when Mi’ytiar returned to you one day from a spontaneous trip to Earth with a dozen new undies, you had been more than thankful.

Mi’ytiar grabbed your ankles, placed both of your feet flat on the table, and spread your thighs apart, stepping aside for Cahrein to finally take a look at you.

The healer’s holo-image got down on his knees and peered between them at what was happening between your legs.

You wanted to hide and press them back together, but you knew that it wasn’t much of help and just let him do his thing. Instead, you let your head loll to the side and looked at your mate.

Mi’ytiar had his hands in fists, keeping them tightly pressed to his sides, and he watched Cahrein with concern and something else in his eyes. You knew he was worried about you. He tried to hide it, tried putting his true feelings behind the mask of a collected and strong leader and warrior like he always did in dicey situations, but you could see right through it.

“And?” He urged Cahrein to finally give him an answer.

“She is ready. She has to push.”

“What about the blood?”

“Incidental. She has to push.”

So that’s what you did.

Taking a deep breath and gripping the edge of the table for the support, you strained every muscle in your body. The resulting, blood-curdling scream even got the two Yautja to flinch and Mi’ytiar lunged forward. He pried your fingers away from the table where you had been holding on for dear life, and intertwined them with his. You instantly squeezed them and Mi’ytiar let out a surprised hiss.

After a moment, your tense body slumped down. It simply gave up after not being able to endure the pain any longer.

“You need to keep going.”

“I can’t.” You hiccuped, choking on your tears as you shook your head vehemently.

“You can. You did this 30 years ago. It was impressive. I never expected such a tiny creature to survive, but you did. You will again.” Cahrein turned to Mi’ytiar and pointed to the Medicomp. “Take the syringe, take your blood and inject it.”

Rather reluctantly, he loosened the hold you had on him and opened the Medicomp. He rummaged through it, found the syringe, and jabbed it into the flesh of his arm, uncaring of the following pain. You were far more important than anything else right now.

While he filled the syringe with his fluorescent-green blood, Cahrein was talking to you and encouraged you to keep going. He tried to distract you and keep your mind from drifting off to a place of no return.

“Something is wrong.” He murmured after a while.

He had watched Mi’ytiar inject you with three doses of his blood already, but you still were in agonizing pain. You even had lost consciousness twice, something that hadn’t even happened when you birthed your first pup.

You squeezed your eyes shut and only opened them again when the pain subsided a bit. “W-What?”

“You should have started crowning already, but you don’t.”

“Why?” You asked in a long-drawn cry.

Cahrein, for the first time in over thirty years, looked baffled and completely clueless. He couldn’t explain it as he had no idea himself. There had never been complications when the females of his clan gave birth. You were the only exception.

“What are typical problems that arise for oomans during childbirth?” He asked, not knowing what else he could do.

It took a moment until you became aware that you had been asked a question.

“Am-Amniotic fluid e-enters the bloodstream… the u-uterus tears… the ba-baby is in an abnormal p-position… it’s s-stuck…” You offered between pained huffs, trying to come up with as many options as you could think of. “In most emergencies, w-when a natural birth isn’t possible, they d-do a c-section… they cut into t-the woman’s belly a-and get the baby out... and then…”

Mi’ytiar wanted you to stop talking. He wanted you to stop putting images of your cut-open body in front of him. He wanted you to stop making him think of your lifeless form after the pup was pulled out of it.

“You have to incise into her abdomen. I will instruct you.” Cahrein finally said.

Mi’ytiar immediately straightened his back and let out a roar. “No!”

“If you do it, either the pup and (Y/N) survive, or just the pup... but if you do nothing, then they will both die.” Cahrein pressed and eyed you for a second.

You were running out of time.

“I… I can’t.”

He sounded defeated. You had never ever expected to see him like this — so vulnerable, so hopeless, so broken. He was the definition of strength, of courage, of accountability, of resilience, and now only a hollow shadow of the man he was was standing in front of you, thinking about the chance of losing his entire world.

He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t.

How could it be possible for him to live, breathe, without you?

He had a taste of a life he never wanted to leave, a life he wasn’t able to quit, a life only something as extraordinary as you could give him. Not because you were human, although that was probably one of the aspects, but because you were you.

He loved you.

You had taught him that love was the most valuable thing to a person. Love was worth more than anything else in life. It was such a strong, overwhelming feeling no one could put exactly into words until one actually felt it.

And he loved you.

“No, Mi’ytiar… you have to, you have to.” You urged him between panting breaths. “Save our… our baby. Forget me… ju-just save our son… please.”

Mi’ytiar looked down at you as you begged him to do something he wasn’t willing to do in a million years. Cahrein would have hesitated in his stead, but he wasn’t your mate and would have cut into you. Mi’ytiar, on the other hand, could never do something that would harm you.

But he already did, though. He had doomed you the second his seed took.

“Mi’ytiar!” Cahrein barked and pulled the male out of his thoughts.

His body was on autopilot when his hand reached for a scalpel-like tool from the Medicomp.

“Thank you, thank you!” You cried out.

The only thing you felt was relief as your body slowly went numb, tears clouding your view. Everything around you became blurry and Mi'ytiar started to disappear. The world around you grew darker and darker as he set the sharp blade onto your skin and slowly applied pressure, cutting into you until blood flowed onto the table, and down to the floor of the ship, creating a red puddle.

You never even registered the feeling of him cutting you open.

Your body shut down before you could.

continue with the fourth part He Shall Prevail

[rarepears]

Oh! MBJ "bridenapping" SQH, it sparked an ~idea~

What if instead of MBJ bringing his husband to rest, it's an INJURED MBJ, looking for his Qinghua because he always heals and protects him. But since he's injured, he doesn't really have the cognitive thought process to realize SQH's aura isn't in a safe spot in his internal GPS and doesn't think to go to SQH's house. Just straight to SQH. In the middle of a meeting with most of the Peak Lords, excluding LQG because I agree, nothing would be able to happen if he was there since he'd kill an injured MBJ in an instant.

SQH has a split second to think.

Save MBJ or himself?

SQH tears a reserve teleport talisman he had MBJ make for him so writers choice if anyone knows if SQH did it himself or if the injured Demon Lord did.

Anyways, MBJ tears open a portal, covered in blood and SQH doesn't have much time to think and catches his husband King and has a split second to choose.

EITHER WAY THE GOSSIP!! The An Ding Peak Lord was kidnapped out of a meeting with the Sect Leader and multiple Peak Lords present by a demon.

That'd be terrifying just at first thought. A demon made it past Cang Qiong's wards and Qiong Ding's, all the extra wards in that meeting room alone, faster than all present Peak Lords could react.

Then we have the 2 main gossip chains. Why was SQH taken? Logistics and Love

Logistics for all the info the An Ding Peak Lord has access to since he maintains it all. Prime target for a surefire way to do a lot of damage. If SQH talks, the Demon Lord can get past all the wards and kill, pillage and raze anything in a high profile area.

Love because if they hear he did this super injured, just to collapse onto SQH and spirit him away? The screams from the BL lovers. I bet LMY could belt out a few chapters pretty quick about it lol.

She writes the next love epic, countering HHP's propaganda by accident lol.

Prominently, both SQH and MBJ now know that SQH would save MBJ even when he might/is declared a traitor.

MBJ would feel so much more secure knowing that. Maybe even becomes forward enough that SQH can't mistake the interest.

And SQH just cut off his own path to safety by not letting his sect kill his King.

So now they both get to live with this neat bit of trivia.

Don't really have any other thoughts besides HHPM ends up dead and SQH is Queen in the North by the end. Maybe TLJ gets let out and hears a whisper about a child on the Luo River.

Would be hilarious if Cang Qiong found out that there's a loophole in the Cang Qiong wards to allow in demons that meet very specific conditions... like being a peak lord's spouse, so they don't even realize that Shang Qinghua modified the wards to let in Mobei Jun (and Shang Qinghua doesn't even realize that he could had hacked the wards by getting married instead of spending 6 months painstakingly learning the wards and then learning how to crack the wards.)

Somehow it doesn't even require the peak lord to know that they have a demonic spouse.

[tumb1rprincess]

Just finished episodes 5 and 6 of Hazbin Hotel

Okay, I need to look up how this running gag of Lucifer with rubber ducks started 'cause it's fucking hilarious. Also, Lucifer is such a loser and I love him.

Every. Song. Is. A. Fucking. Banger.

Alastor and Lucifer's duet had me screaming. Although I have to wonder: does Alastor actually think of Charlie as a daughter figure or was he just getting under Lucifer's skin?

Oh my God, poor Husker when Alastor fucking snapped at him. But Husker also mentioned Alastor being on a leash too. What did he mean by that? Is Lilith involved? People have pointed out that she's been gone for seven years and Alastor is jumping into action after a seven year break. Is this a hint that the two are connected?

Lucifer and Charlie's duet got me teary-eyed, it was so great. I was a little worried when I heard Lucifer's voice actor also voiced Varian in Tangled: the Series 'cause I wondered if Lucifer was going to sound like a pubescent boy. But he fucking knocked it out of the park.

So Charlie mentioned that Lilith and Lucifer split. Does she mean, like, a full on divorce? If so, I wondered what caused it. Also, if they're leaving Lilith's face blank in Charlie's flashbacks, is there some kind of twist or big reveal with what she looks like?

Sir Pentious having a thing for Cherri Bomb was not the direction I was expecting, but hey, it's hilarious and I love it.

Looks like a theory we've called from day one has been confirmed: Vaggie used to be an angel. And not only an angel, an exterminator. interesting that Charlie literally found her after she lost her eye and wings and stuff. I wonder if we'll ever see their relationship when it first started. Also, is it just me, or does her angel form look like Cassandra from Tangled: the Series?

What I did not expect was Heaven not to know about sinners being exterminated. And seeing other angels was interesting. They're not 100% douchebags like Adam. Emily clearly wants to help them and even Sera feels uncomfortable with how this situation is being handled, although she still believes it needs to be done and sinners can't be redeemed.

Angel Dust showing care and concern for his friends was so heart warming. And sticking to to Valentino was great.

Emily and Charlie's duet and reprise of Hell is Forever was great. But we're heading into the final stretch of the show with the extermination coming up and the hotel being a prime target. Shit is so going to go down next week.

[90ekz]

BLEED INTO ME!

in which… ony is your vampire boyfriend, and he tends to overfeed, even when you tell him not to. guess you have to teach him a lesson, yeah?

word count: 3.4k (WOAH?)

content. smut + plot, sub!vamp!ony, light angst, nicknames (baby, princess, ma, pa, pretty), dacryphillia, heavy discussion of wounds and injury, established relationship, n-word usage, hematolagnia & blood consumption, black!domfem!reader, overstimulation, handcuffs, light feminization, handjobs, male squirting, dry humping.

syno speaks. i really apologize for the delay on this, but i hope y’all love it! thank you for all the support :) btw, i know some people are squeamish about blood, so if that bothers you in any way you may need to avoid reading this. kk that’s all, love y’all 💋

ony annoys the fuck outta you.

he always has, ever since he came shimmying through your houses’ chimney while you’d fallen asleep on the couch watching your favorite movie. the action hadn’t even registered in your bleary mind until he was poking his sharpened talon against your cheek, silently praying that you’d wake up so he could explain his current situation.

the poachers were running a muck on the town, and they were out to kill any and every vampire they could find.

ony, specifically, had been a prime target, due to him being the only full-breed left in the country. he had been on the run for months now, and whether it was finding caves to sleep in or crashing at his boys’ houses when he could, he’d been keeping his distance between him and the enemy, until now.

he’s suddenly awoken in his cave to the sound of heavy footsteps clammering against floors of the gravel, and he recognized the sound like his own voice. he wasn’t quick enough to move out of their line of sight before he was shot in his stomach and chased through town, only getting away once he saw your house with an easy entrance.

“hey, wake the hell up.” ony complained, his jabs slowly getting softer as he took in the state of your sprawled out body.

your appearance should be the least of his worries right now, but you were so captivating. even with the droop of your plump lips, and the way your blanket was completely kicked off you, revealing only a crop top and shorts. your curves were on full display, and he felt his fingers itch with the need to touch, to mark.

as your eyes blinked open, ony hovered over your frame, drool pooling in his mouth as he patiently waited for your full awakening.

“oh, look who decided to join us.”

silence stretched over the room for an unbearable amount of time as your brain caught up to what exactly you were looking at, and you were scrambling to your feet and behind the couch. you were swift on your feet, and suddenly ony had a knife barreling toward his head that he barely dodged. the knife cemented itself into the wall, a reverberated sound bouncing against both of your ears.

“get the hell out of my house!” you gritted out, trying to keep your voice even. ony’s eyes are wide as he flicks his attention between you and the literal machete in the wall, what just happened?

“can you, uh, let me explain first?” ony presses on as he tried to ignore the way your voice was calling to him like a siren song. something about you was making his knees physically weak, but he would figure that out later when you weren’t ready to chuck another knife at him.

“explain what—you’re a random nigga in my house! how did you even get in here?!”

“the chimney, look can you just calm down—shit.” ony doubled over, as more blood started to leak from his wound. he hadn’t been fed in over a month, and was now losing his own blood. his regeneration isn’t as effective when he’s hungry, but he couldn’t risk going to some hospital to get help either.

you let a gasp slip out as you saw his hand clutches against his stomach, and you warily made your way over to his crumpling form.

“fuck, is that a bullet wound? i’ll um—let me go get some gauze, don’t move.” you rushed into a room outside of ony’s field of vision, and just as suddenly as you left, you were helping him to the couch. ony flopped down, quiet curses falling out of his mouth. you felt your cheeks heat as you removed what was left of his shirt and inspected his wound. it wasn’t too deep, and you were able to pull the bullet out with your tweezers without much effort.

the rest of the process was seamless, and ony was left relatively feeling impressed as he eyed the stained gauze wrapping his stomach. you even handed him a glass of water, and kneeled by him on the floor. you were so caring, and his stomach was in knots at your close proximity.

you kept making eyes at him like you wanted to ask something, until you finally did.

“what the hell happened to you?” your voice was much softer this time around, and ony was definitely a bigger fan of this tone. ony hooked his pointer finger into the corner of his mouth to reveal one of his pearly white fangs, his tongue lolling out involuntarily.

“poachers.”

he really did owe you a better explanation, but his head was much too fuzzy from hunger and blood loss to fully spit out that whole monologue. plus, your cheeks were now stained burgundy with shyness and another emotion he couldn’t quite pinpoint, and you looked way too cute like that.

only now did you finally take a good look at the man before you, and you were embarrassed to realize that this was the man that had been labeled all over the news as “the last living full-breed.”

and he was bloody, shirtless, and sexy right here on your living room couch.

“y-you’re…”

“the last living full-breed vampire? yeah, something like that.” ony rolled his eyes, his hand waving in a nonchalant manner as if he wasn’t the most wanted… thing walking right now. you’d built up an impressive saved folder of videos, blog articles, and news headlines about him and his whereabouts, and you’d always felt so bad for him.

a bout of shame washed over you at your previous actions. you’d attacked him and screamed at him without even realizing that this was the same man you’d been pitying for months now, and now that he’s here, you have a strange urge to protect him.

“i, uh…i’m sorry for all the knife-throwing and stuff,” you mumble into the arm of the couch. “i didn’t realize it was you.” ony huffs, clearly amused with your response.“i did break into your house to be fair. i wouldn’t sweat it.” he shifts in his seat on the couch, still unable to fully sit up without the pain spreading. fuck; he really needs to eat soon.

comfortable silence sits in the room with the two of you, the same thing on both of your minds.

“so, what’re you gonna do now?”

“no clue. i can’t go back to my cave, and most of my homeboys live in the old city i was staying in, so i can’t go to any of them. probably just gonna skip town. again.” ony mentions sadly. he was tired of always having to run from people, and it was getting lonely without any of his friends or family around anymore. it was a constant battle, and he was tired of fighting for it.

you him to affirm him, but can’t shake the ridiculous idea you have brewing on the back of your tongue. it should be out of the question, but you wanted to protect him, and he needed somewhere to stay. what’s the worst that could happen?

ony sighed, and as he went to stand up, you grabbed his wrist firmly.

“why don’t…why don’t you just stay here?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“onyankopon, i’m not boutta play wit you all night.”

“please baby, im so hungry.” ony presses his cheek against the innard of your thigh while you diligently finish on the outline of your english literature essay and pouts.

fuck you and your dedication to a masters degree, hmph.

he’d been teasing you for hours now so you could feed him, but you wouldn’t take the bait. you just roll your eyes in response as he grips onto the fat of your thigh, licking and sucking at the bite mark from 2 days ago that hadn't faded all the way yet.

this only spurred ony further, his instincts just telling him to ruin your thighs for any one else, to just drain you of everything you had.

so he did.

“o-ony! what did i just say?!” your thigh trembles against his lips as he digs his fangs in, his eyes low and cloudy from your taste. this, this right here, was his personal heaven—desperate whines slipping from your lips, your fingers gripping his hair, your sweet stream hitting his tongue as he sloppily drinks you alive.

ony groaned deep in his chest as his pants began to feel far too tight all of the sudden. this happens often, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. it isn’t uncommon for him to come completely undone just by feeling your sweetness flow down his throat and pool into his stomach. your blood was his weakness; it made him stronger, faster, and healthier than he’d ever felt or been, and you protected him.

you the first—and the only—to not cast him out, and for that reason, he fell deep for you. deeper than he ever thought possible.

and even now, ony craved more of you.

you shakily pressed three taps to the side of his biceps, your sign that you needed him to stop. he whined loudly, but pulled away nonetheless. he knows that restraint is very important when it comes to this, but he’s still so hungry. you feel your cheeks heat up as you brush a thumb of his now trembling lips, and take in just how wrecked he looks.

his eyes are watering tinted and watery, and his hair was ruffled from the way you’d pulled on it. ony was a complete mess of himself, and you felt your pride swell at how easily your blood can do that to him.

“mmm, fuck ma, tastes so fucking good—‘m so hard fr’m it…”

you smile down at him, loving how quickly he fell under your spell. ony’s your obsession, but he had disobeyed you, and you couldn’t let that slide. as much as you wanted to just give into him and let him take what he needs from you, you had to remind him who was boss.

“uh huh.” you shrugged, simply going back to your paper. you wanted to make him even more needy than he already was.

“‘fuck you mean, uh huh? make me nut already.” ony licks over the freshly punctured bite as a little blood rushes out. he expects you to do something, anything in response, but you just huff and continue to work on your paper. you’re basically done with it already, but you choose to add little details just so he gets irritated, and boy is it working. ony was absolutely itching to just break that stupid laptop so you'd pay attention to him, but it was all in vain.

no matter the amount of kissing, licking or teasing he did, your resolve didn't crack one bit under the pressure of his touch, and that in itself made ony's blood run cold. he just wanted you to look at him, and his cock was throbbing even without your attention.

“don’t act like you ain’t just drink a whole pint outta me even when i said wait. you not gettin’ shit else.” you wave him off with a simple signal of your hand, and his stomach drops. not only were you ignoring him, you were shooing him.

ony raises to his feet and nuzzles his face into your neck, positively whiny now. he undid the button of his pants and you gasped as his cock sprung free. of course the freaky nigga wasn’t wearing any drawls, he strange like that.

“ony, put some damn drawls on.”

“baby please, ‘s literally throbbing. ‘can’t take it.”

you found yourself holding back a smile as he peppers kisses along your face and neck, and you’re trying not to giggle. your restraint is slowly slipping, and you figured that you could indulge him just a little. you meet him halfway, his tongue slipping into your mouth easily. it was just how you liked it. ony had a way with kissing—his fangs usually came as a bit of a roadblock, but you two found ways around it. you tug the back of his head toward you, and he’s stumbling down to your height.

you smile, and ony feels himself melting once more. you could tell that he was getting needier, the glint in his eyes giving away how ready he was to be ruined by you.

“you need it bad, pa?”

“fuck, so bad.” he gasped into your mouth, his fang nipping your lip and watching a bit of blood bead at the tip of it. he eagerly licked it up, and you could feel your own arousal building. your gray panties did nothing to hide the wet spot growing in your core, but you had bigger things to worry about.

you wrapped a manicured hand around ony’s wrist, pulling him to the bedroom. he chuckled deep in his chest as he trailed behind you like your personal mutt, and you couldn’t help but smile. you loved when he got like this.

as soon as you entered the room, ony blinked and he was suddenly cuffed to your king sized bed, the silk of the sheets rubbing up against his skin. he already felt overwhelmed, and was pouty about not being able to touch you, but he had to remember that this was his punishment, and he wanted to be good for you. he was completely naked and the cold air of the room barely registered to him as your clothed pussy rutted against his bare cock.

it was like torture, but he knows that’s the point.

“c-cmon ma, you can go harder,” ony sighed, gesturing his head toward your matching bra and panties. you ground your pussy down against him harder, wanton moans falling from your glossed lips. ony cursed under his breath as he watched you stimulate yourself on his cock. your nails dug into his waist as you moved, arousal clear on your face. “is fat ma wet for me yet?”

it was a ridiculous question, really. he already knew the answer, and you did too. squelching noises filled the room as your sticky underwear made friction against his cock, and that was answer enough, but ony wanted to hear you admit it. you weren’t that vocal in bed (at least not with words), but it was always ony’s goal to make you.

“mmhm, she’s so wet f’you pa.”

“oh fuck.” ony feels his hips jerk up involuntarily as you talk dirty to him, he loves that nasty shit. he can’t figure out if it’s because you’re kinda mad at him or something else, but you were so responsive today and he needed to be inside you now. just the simple act of watching you climb the ladder to your climax was enough to have him panting and moaning along with you.

your head drops backward as you get closer to that sweet release, and ony is falling in love all over again. you look perfect like this, drooling over his cock rubbing between your folds without even properly touching you. your hand rubs under his chin as you force him to look at you, and he hopes he isn’t blushing.

“ony—fuck! ‘m cummin!” the coil in your stomach snaps, and ony watches in awe as your panties get completely ruined. his lap is sticky from the mix of his own pre and your juices, and he whines as his fangs start to protrude from arousal. you smile and let your thumb trail over his teeth and tongue, and he’s struggling against the cuffs.

there’s so many thing ony wants to do to you right now—but he wants to touch you more than anything. run his fingers up the indent of your wide hips, choke you, rub your oversensitive pussy, fuck, and he really wants to bite you. he wasn’t even that hungry, but there was an ache under his skin to mark you and make you bleed, and watch it all drip out.

just the thought was enough to have a spurts of cum shooting onto his stomach, and you let out a little coo at his twitching stomach as you take the opportunity to begin stimulating him, not even caring if he was too sensitive. you ran your fingers over the head of his cock, pay extra attention to the tip just the way that makes him fall apart.

“w-wait!”

“for what? you were just begging me to make you nut earlier, weren’t you?” you smirk as he bucks against your hand. when ony gets sensitive, his voice will pitch up and it’s the sexiest thing in the world to you. he’s always the neediest after he feeds, and it’s so cute. your eyes landed on the lube sitting on your nightstand, and you took the opportunity to squirt a few drops onto your hand. it was almost too slippery for you to keep your pace, but the added moisture made it easier to stimulate the most sensitive parts of him.

“shit, it’s so wet.”

“yeah? wetter than me?” you asked, tilting your head to the side.

“uh uh, ‘s nothing wetter than you mama—oh shit,” ony’s mouth dropped open as your finger passed over his slit once more, and he was spilling into your hand with a groan. there was more of it this time, and his hands tugged at the handcuffs as you continued to work him through his second orgasm. you were almost afraid that he was going to break them with his pure strength, but you just let him struggle.

you’d seen him break many things in your shared house. door handles, alarm clocks, your counter, (don’t ask about that one) so you wouldn’t be shocked if he tried to break his restraints, but you knew he loved them too much. “baby—can’t take anymore, fucking hurts!” ony trembles, his legs bucking under you as you stroke his harder. both of your hands were working on his cock now, and his lip was bleeding from gnawing on it too much. a few stray tears even started to trail down his face.

“cmon princess, you can give me one more,” you kiss along ony’s neck and chest, and smile as you feel his breath stutter under your touch.

“ma, w-wait! ‘m serious, it feels weird—shitshitshit—”

before you could ask what he meant, ony’s orgasm was slamming into him and a clear stream of liquid was shooting out of his cock in uneven spurts. each shot was shorter than the first, but you were taken aback nonetheless. he’d never done anything like that before, at least not that you’ve ever seen, but you could feel arousal pooling in your belly again as he writhed under you. you finally released his cock as it softened against his stomach, and room was developed in silence apart from the heaving breathing of both of you.

you gave him a wet kiss on his cheek and began undoing his cuffs, his look of embarrassment not going unnoticed. he rubbed his wrists together, inevitably proud of the marks you’d left on him. “onya.” you pressed your chest to his, but he wouldn’t look at you. you figured he was embarrassed about what had just happened, even if you didn’t know exactly what that was.

“hmm?”

“you gonna look at me or just do that blushing school girl shit all night?” that made him smack his lips and finally let his eyes meet yours. you held his jaw with your hand, stroking right where he was starting to grow some hair finally. it was a shame, ony really had no idea how pretty he was, even with his eyes streaked with tears, swollen lips, and marks left all along his neck and chest. his hands finally grasped your waist, eventually sliding down to paw at your doughy ass.

“you’re ruining my street cred, fat butt. out here makin me squirt and shit.”

“what street cred, nigga? you from the woods!” you laughed against his chest, and he felt his heart swell. he lifted your chin up to look at him, and your little smile made him remember that everything would be okay as long as he had you. you’d saved him, taken him away from a dangerous life, and he couldn’t find any way good enough to properly thank you.

your eyes twinkled and you closed the distance between the two of you. the kiss was slow and ardent, and you wanted to stay like this forever.

“you did so good, ony. ‘so proud of you, baby.”

“if you were really proud, you’d feed me some more—”

“mmkay, don’t push ya luck.”

special tag 444 my baby <3 @hoesluvshanti

[barcaatthemoon]

Can I please get a Paige Bueckers blurb with the prompt "What are you doing here? I thought you had to study."

courtside || paige bueckers x reader ||

the game against the lynx wasn't going remotely how you wanted it to. you were seemingly the prime target of every single one of your opponents. you wanted to prove that you could handle yourself as a rookie, and more importantly, diana's rookie. she had been hard on you, but at the end of your season, you had made the most improvement.

"damn she looks pissed," diana said with a small laugh. you furrowed your brows as you tried to figure out who she was talking about. diana seemed to take pity on you and pointed towards the stands where you finally saw paige. "play good for her, give her something to forget about all these hits you've been taking."

it was like seeing paige revitalized your playing skills. the lynx players were still trying to get you, but now, you put up more resistance. you stopped trying to make shots in the paint and pulled back for threes. they didn't try to crowd you as much making those shots because at first, they didn't believe that you could make them. you had always been seen as a more aggressive player, trucking up to get shots you couldn't miss.

"where did that come from?" most of the girls knew that you hated group hugs, but tonight, you were in good spirits. the distance with paige was definitely a big part in your grumpy persona, and now that you knew she was close by, you were absolutely elated.

"her girlfriend is here," diana teased. almost immediately, natasha and diana were leading the team in teasing you. you snuck away from them, mostly thanks to bg putting some distance in between you and the team.

"don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here? i thought you had to study," you told paige. she ducked her head down in shame, which was the perfect opportunity for you to kiss her. paige had always been a few inches taller than you, something that she lorded over you at every chance.

"my favorite study partner kind of moved to phoenix. it's awful, my grades tanked, and i couldn't even get courtside seats to surprise her," paige whined. you rolled your eyes as you hopped up into her arms. "oh and there's this sweaty little gremlin crawling all over me."

"paige!" you swatted at her shoulder as paige just cackled. "be nice or i'll find someone else to be nice to me."

"no, no, no, no!" paige stomped her foot down as she tightened her hold on you. she leaned down and gave you a real kiss, one that you had been waiting for since you had last seen her. "i love you."

"i love you too. now, let me go so that i can shower and change," you said. paige reluctantly let you go and followed you down to the court. she got along well with your teammates, and you hoped and prayed that she'd end up with you after the next draft.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hey so like is it okay to make a request with Yandere Twst boys of your choice with a reader who’s like Casper the friendly ghost?

Friendly Ghost Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

As it’s well known ghosts exist in Twisted Wonderland and they’re usually quite friendly…once you get to know them that is. To most ghosts with no ambition to work a specific job they’ll enjoy scaring the living beings. But unlike them you prefer not to. Only hoping to make friends despite your undead state. You don’t remember much about your past but you do know you like making friends which makes you a prime target for those deeply in-love with you:

Lilia Vanrouge

“There you are, (Y/n)! Would you like to cook with me?”

“Oh uh sure! We’re…not feeding anyone else right?”

“Yup!”

“Then let’s go!”

Lilia enjoys how sweet you can be and how gullible

What would usually be clingy works perfectly for him

Though he’ll make sure your busy when he’s massacring those interested in exploiting you for social media

Kalim Al Asim

“Wow so you don’t mind if we just stay up and then party the next day?”

“I mean sure as long as it’s okay with you. That doesn’t sound all too healthy–”

“Yay! Let’s keep going (Y/n)!”

He doesn’t have an ounce of fear when meeting you

Finding love in someplace unknown

He does start to think about a future with you

And he worries about you moving on when it happens to come up in conversation

So he decides that he’ll have to find someway to keep you a ghost until he can get there

But don’t worry the Asim family has plenty of riches and enchanted items

Surely one of them can keep your soul close by

[beware-thecrow]

I fucking hate BNHA The last panel about "granma is here" in fact further proves my point on another post of how empty and nonsensical BNHA became in the last arc because AfO wanting Tomura from the very beginning made impossible for him to be saved anyway, which means all his beef with the heroes became unjustified and his speech about violence and heroes and villains held no importance in the end. Why?

Because you cannot have a character built over the premise that society was so corrupt and selfish that put a little boy in the bad bad villain's reach for 5 arcs, to then say "oh, wait. He was fucked anyway because the bad bad guy was behind everything all along"

A bad bad guy not even all might in his prime could defeat, so it doesn't matter if people would or wouldn't help others. "It's all bad bad guy's fault anyway and he's practically immortal." Perfect, now we know granma didn't stand a chance against AfO, he planned this.

The whole idea of a society that relies on heroes too much instead of everyone doing their part from kindness falls like a house of cards if you have an evil so corrupt that none of said kindness will mean a thing. The moment Horikoshi went from "Tomura was found by AfO" to "Tomura was planned by AfO" the core theme of his series crumbled down. The league as a device lost its meaning, the characters that composed it became unjustified because whatever motivation they had was in fact a manipulation from the greater evil. And this applies to everyone.

What's the point in Toga and Twice calling out the lack of help for people with mental illness and problematic quirks if the message still is "If you do bad things out of despair no one will help you and you'll get killed." And yes, Toga died loved, Toga wanted to be loved, but she didn't wanted to die?? She was literally an abandoned child who found a family and ended up dying giving blood to the same girl she stabbed. And yeah, it's kinda poetic she died giving blood instead of taking it, but what was the point if she doesn't get to know she's loved? Further more, are we really to believe Ochako loved Toga? A girl she literally didn't know. Sorry, but once I got lost in a mall and a police officer helped me find my mom, that doesn't mean the officer loved me. And yeah, Ochako tried her best to be a good hero, but it's not about what the characters do, it's what the story tells you it happens with what they do. The story just told you the ill and abandoned die in the end before anyone helps them. And they die hunted by the police. What's the point of Touya as a whole? oh, wait. I know, it must be very awful for Endeavor to be such a bad person, his child ended up incapacitated. Very hard on Endeavor. Fuck Dabi being turned into a piece of charcoal, IT'S HARD ON HIS DAD.

What's the point in Spinner pointing out discrimination and people following him if in the end we got that he should have stayed in his lane, in his room, friendless because he only went out to be seen by someone who accepted him, just to have that person tortured in front of him before he was killed. And for what? For a teen to tell him "Yo, bro. I punched your bestie to death, make a comic about it. Btw you'll be staying in jail forever. So so sorry for you guys." Proving once again, murder is okay if you are on the right side of the story. No matter how much compassion, Tomura showed Spinner, or how much he suffered through life. Heroes had the right to kill him, and there was nothing Spinner (who legit loved his friend) could do about it because AfO had taken over. Again, another good character turned pointless, with a pointless point of view, with a pointless conclusion because he can tell the story of Tomura Shigaraki all he wants FROM JAIL, but under the public eye Tomura will go down as an insane mass murderer either way since looking at him in any other light would inevitably make a target of Izuku for killing him and that won't happen. You cannot have "the best hero ever" and "he killed this dude that was kinda right" in the same sentence. It doesn't make sense. Not to mention his case against discrimination went nowhere since everyone who followed him became a villain and the only person who actually makes a point about discrimination ends up being Deku on another, totally different chapter that had nothing to do with Spinner. And...he's a hero so he can say whatever he wants, we go back to "questioning bad, unless a hero says it" and "people are really that horrible in BNHA universe".

Tomura's case it's even more fucked because even when he said he didn't want a future, every single wish he had fell flat. His hatred for not being saved as a child proved to be out of anyone's control, his desire to destroy society didn't land because nothing really changed. There are still schools for child soldiers, and people are still not questioning the violence heroes use to keep the status quo, and certainly no one is wondering how is that a couple of heroes were able to kill a couple of villains (because so far Hawks still has a job). His friends ended up dead or locked away, and the child in him that begged to be saved ended up...being not. In the end, we got a suffering festival for Tomura, from his granma being pushed to drop her kid, his dad being tricked, his parents getting killed in front of him, Mon-chan and Hana's memory squeezed dry and young Tenko asking for help while Tomura was assaulted by his creepy guardian for 200 chapters straight just to tell us that Deku at sixteen was a great hero for putting a twenty one-year-old dissociated guy out of his misery like a euthanized dog. And for what? To finish a guy who was infatuated with his dead brother AND THAT COULD HAVE BEEN EXECUTED IN JAIL LIKE...300 CHAPTERS AGO, since the manga already made the point that villains can be executed with little repercussion, and it can be justified if said villain it's a threat. Then...why was AfO alive to begin with? Oh, I guess this is something we can trust to a 16 year old instead of... the government or whatever. And yeah, these are tragic figures, they certainly are, but you can hardly claim that they achieved anything in the end because the first premise of the league, why it was formed and why they joined was

To live as we want/are. And now they are dead, or locked away, or bedridden crispy for something that was planted by someone else from the very beginning. And what they believed didn't change anything in the end because it's not like the public saw them do something meaningful but, again, they are being told what to believe, by whom? BY THE HEROES. Are we really arguing that Iguchi's comic will change society? ARE WE FOR REAL????? Have you ever read the story of Jesus Christ? he died for our sins by Marvel. And on top of that as the last nail in the coffin to prove that NOTHING changed, Hawks really said rebranding + target audience =📈🤙🏼 StOnKS✨ I wish I was joking.

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ²

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: as promised, zoro finally returned to you... after three years at sea. there's much left to be said, but a rogue butler just might get in the way.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!zoro x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: swearing, use of Y/N, canon typical violence, fluff with a hint of angst

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: everytime you leave

series masterlist

Nami’s little ship taking on water was the least ideal occurrence possible. Yet, deep inside, Zoro found it incredibly funny to watch the orange haired girl scramble around all frustrated like this. 

“Gecko Island,” said Nami, drawing Zoro out of his thoughts. She was hunched over her map with Luffy over her shoulder, per usual. “I think we’ll be able to make it before the ship sinks.”

Those words took longer to process than they should’ve, but Zoro couldn’t help it. Gecko Island? How long had it been, three years maybe? No longer than that, he was sure. His eyes went unfocused at the memory of a laugh that could easily end him and bring him back to life all at once.

“Swear it.”

“I, Roronoa Zoro, swear that we will sail again.”

Nami nodded to herself, saying, “Syrup Village is known for its ships. I say we dock there and ditch this junk.”

He couldn’t believe that luck. Zoro’s lips threatened to quirk into a grin before he got a hold of himself. He rested his hand on his swords and snuffed. “I’ve got a friend in Syrup Village who could help us.”

Nami took off her readers and rolled up her map. “You have friends?”

He shot her a tight smirk. “Just one.”

“And he can help us?” asked Luffy as he took to the ship’s helm. 

“She might.” Zoro checked on a knot here and a rope there. With his back to his temporary crew, he let out a small smile. “If she’s happy to see me.”

A surprised grin took Nami's face. “And if she isn’t?”

“She will be,” he assured, only half certain, if he was being honest.

It'd been three years since his promise, after all. Whatever happened next, Zoro could only be certain of one thing: oh, how he missed you.

જ⁀➴

Zoro was sweating, and it had nothing to do with the heat.

With every inch they grew closer to Syrup Village the swordsman swore he could hear your last words to him, a taunting sort of echo reflected by the sea. He’d always heard that water holds memories, and now it holds memories of you.

For better or worse, for reasons he just couldn’t fathom, you loved him. The very thought had his heart stuttering, his lips threatening to curve into a smile. Hopefully, time hadn’t changed your heart. It certainly hadn’t changed his.

He stood leaning on the mast, arms crossed to limit the fidget of his fingers. Unfortunately, this left him out in the open, a prime target for Nami’s incessant teasing. 

She slinked up beside him, curiosity already planted on her face. “So,” Nami drawled, not even trying to hide her shit-eating grin. “She?”

“Go. Away.” Zoro shifted away from her, tensing when Nami simply ducked forward, her short orange hair falling in her face.

She only laughed. “Oh, someone’s defensive.”

Zoro didn’t satisfy her with a response this time, yet she wasn’t thwarted, bumping his shoulder with a chuckle. “Relax. I’m sure your friend will be happy to see you.”

A beat of silence passed before he found himself offering up his worry. “I haven't written to her in a month.”

Nami scoffed. “Will she care when she sees you?” 

Probably not, was his first thought, but then again, what if you had changed? What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you’d grown bitter? 

“Hey.” Nami snapped in his face. “Get out of your head, all right?”

He looked at her then, and he wondered why she cared. They weren’t friends, or at least, he didn’t think they were friends. But the way the two of them locked eyes and he nodded and then she nodded—he wondered if he even knew what friendship felt like after all this time.

It felt like you, of course, but you were something entirely different. Entirely more.

So he pushed off the mast and walked to the rail of the ship, sucked in a breath, let it out slowly, and got out of his own head.

જ⁀➴

You were terribly hungover, and Vee was having a ball over it.

Your every groan prompted just one more I told you so. Because she had, after all, told you so. You didn’t remember much from the night before, just that you were sad and the bartender liked you enough to forget about a cut off.

But feeling like shit never got you out of work before, and it certainly didn’t today. 

So you did your usual chores, albeit at a slower pace, crushing coriander and sorting it into jars at the corner table of Vee’s office. Vee herself stood behind one of the village’s elderly hypochondriacs, Miss Irma, who sat upon the examination table.

You and Vee had made quite the team over the years. While your knowledge solely pertained to the more natural medicines, Vee had gone to academy to become a real doctor, studying new technology and practices. Her fancy framed documents were testament to her achievements. 

She taught you nearly everything she knew, and you showed her a few tricks too, and as a result Syrup Village developed a phenomenal one stop cure all shop. Your various tinctures and potions came in handy nearly everyday—today especially as you downed a hangover tonic seconds after waking up.

You pursed your lips, grinding up the coriander as your temples panged with the consequences of your actions. Last night the alcohol had done wonders to make you stop thinking, but today was a different story.

“Next week’ll be three years,” you said to Vee, not caring as Irma perked up at the potential gossip. Ever since you had declared your love to a ship retreating from the docks, the locals had been dying to figure you out. You never let them, finding great amusement in being the town mystery.

Vee glanced up from taking Irma’s blood pressure, sensing an approaching vent. “So that’s why you’re so worked up?”

“That,” you confirmed, pouring the fine powder into an empty jar. “And he hasn’t written in a while.”

It was silly to worry about him. He could handle himself just fine. He was probably just busy. Yet, you had to admit, his letters were normally like clockwork. He had never missed a monthly letter, not once in three years. 

Vee suddenly stood beside you, taking your hands that you hadn’t realized were shaking. The older woman caught your eyes and offered a smile. “He’s a capable young man. He’ll be okay.”

You sighed, the sound quaking. “I know.”

She squeezed your hands and turned to remove the blood pressure cuff from a carefully listening Irma. “Take the supplies list from the counter and head to the market, yeah?”

“But—”

“Nope.” She was pushing you by your shoulders now, leaving a less than pleased Irma behind. Vee walked you through the hall, the kitchen, and right to the front door.

“Vee—Stop pushin’ me!” You planted two hands on either side of the doorframe, halting your exit. Puffing, you begrudgingly relented. “You never gave me the list.”

A triumphant smile adorned her face as she swept back to the kitchen and returned with your shopping list. You snatched it from her fist and left her with a feigned smile, not liking how she chuckled as the door clicked shut behind you. 

You huffed, fondly remarked “Bitch,” and headed down the cobblestone street with a brief glance down at the sheet of paper. Chamomile. Turmeric. Peppermint. Calendula.

You hummed. That last one might be hard to come by in the market, but surely one of the local merchants could find it for you. Turning the corner to head through the square, you caught sight of a familiar little man hurrying through the square. You swiftly pocketed your list and chased after him. “Joli! Hey, Joli!”

The mailman startled and whirled around, relaxing upon finding you rushing toward him. He didn’t bother with pleasantries; this had been going on for days, and the usual reply was on his lips before you could even get the question out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, lips pursed in an apologetic smile. “No letters have come for you… Maybe your friend has just forgotten?”

“No. It’s something else.” Why did everyone assume he’d forgotten? It wasn’t like him to forget. You worried your lip between your teeth. “He always writes. Every month, without fail. Something’s gotta be wrong.”

“You could always write to him first?” Joli offered.

“I would if I knew where the hell he is.” It wasn’t easy being penpals with the Demon Pirate Hunter, given he was never in one place for very long. 

But he hadn’t written in over a month. Surely, he couldn’t have forgotten you. He wouldn’t have forgotten you. Even with the sea dividing you, the pair of you were intertwined. Three years and no letter wasn’t going to change that.

“Sorry, Joli,” you said, realizing you’d zoned out. “Thanks anyway.”

He swept a brief bow and hurried off to continue his day, leaving you alone in the bustling town square.

Time had gone by very slowly, and although Syrup Village was charming, you couldn’t help but feel drowned by the mundanity of it all. Syrup Village, to put it simply, was boring. 

But mostly, Syrup Village just didn’t have Zoro.

He was off on the East Blue, God knows where exactly, and the worry was eating you away.

Shaking your head as if it could dispel your thoughts, you quickly shifted to hurry toward the market. It was a long line of stands and booths running up and down the eastern part of the city. Directly behind it was a fine view of the shipyard, with its impressive ships large and small. And then to the left of the yard was the port, busy with the weekly imports.

The evening started to waste away as you went from tent to tent, offering smiles and beri in exchange for ingredients. Only after you’d asked the local flower merchant to place an order for calendula did you turn to look at the sky. Perhaps it’d been long enough for Vee to let you back inside. You’d already gathered everything on her list, after all.

But first, maybe you’d bring home something sweet. Food always put Vee in a good mood.

“Thanks, Luc,” you said to the young baker, taking the cloth wrapped loaf of lemon bread from him. “Tell your mom I said hello.”

“Sure thing.” You waved him goodbye and walked into the crowds, pinching off a piece of bread and popping it in your mouth. The billowing sails of the ships caught your eye and drew you closer.

The port reminded you of Zoro. Well, to be fair, many things reminded you of Zoro. Even lemon bread made you think of his sour expressions if you let the taste linger too long. But there was something about the salty breeze and the cursing sailors that threw you back three years time. 

If you closed your eyes you could practically see it—you and Zoro stood at the railing of a shipping barge, one of his hands on his swords and the other caging you between the ship and him, only to protect you from the many suspicious sailors, of course. Not at all because he enjoyed the proximity. 

Someone bumped your shoulder and barked an insult, and you realized you’d literally closed your eyes. Oops.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and ducked your head, stuffing the lemon bread in your satchel. 

You stopped in the shade cast by one ship’s sail, well out of the way. How many pirates stood in your midst? It was a question you tried not to think about, but you wagered a fourth of the crowd, maybe, but no more than that. Usopp scared most of them away with his clockwork alarms.

Maybe you could find your friend before you headed back. Usopp’s stories were farfetched, but never dull in color.

You had taken a single step when the crowd of hurrying sailors and passengers grew thin, and your gaze was drawn like a magnet to a shock of green hair. You seized up, tense muscles locking you in place.

You blinked, forgot how to breathe, and blinked again. Certainly you had to be tricking yourself. Plenty of fools have green hair.

As you forced an inhale the figure came into focus, one of his hands rested on a white sword you would recognize in the thickest of fog.

You huffed, disbelieving. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be real. Parched lips parting, you noted that you hadn't had much to drink that day and the sun was rather hot… but you surely weren’t dehydrated enough to hallucinate. 

That wasn’t any green haired fool. That was your green haired fool, in the flesh, like an answer to a desperate prayer. He came back.

You might’ve stood there all day had Zoro not felt your stare like a hot brand on his cheek. 

His heart was already hammering in his chest, skin prickling with the need to just shout your name till someone told him where to find you. But… his shoulders tensed, not from the anxiety, but from wariness. His brow pinched and he gazed around to find whoever was watching him.

Bit by bit, his gaze roamed over sailors big and small, crates and barrels, until it settled on you amidst the passersby. 

He’d tried preparing for this moment. None of it was useful now as he met your eyes in an everlasting moment. How had he ever left?

Zoro’s hand slipped from his sword as he started toward you, each step far too long and slow for his liking. It felt like walking through water to get you, like there was sand in his shoes weighing him to the ground. 

Luckily, you were impatient.

You took off, feet pounding against the wood of the docks, shoulder checking at least five people and knocking one person to the ground. You were heaving even as a wide smile took your face. 

Zoro gasped the instant before you barreled into him, your arms flung around his neck as his own embraced you tightly. He stumbled and let out a glorious little laugh for only you to hear. The sound alone made three years of aching boil down to one desperate need to never let him go.

Pulling back, you found his eyes, and the little grin on his face was the very last straw. 

Like a starved woman, you surged forward and cupped the sides of his face to drag him down to meet your lips. Soft and timeless, you sought to engrave the feel of his lips on yours, and yours to his. So just in case he’d ever dreamed of kissing another woman, he never would again.

Your hungry affection only made his infatuation worse; for three long years, Zoro only ever dreamed of you.

Zoro broke the kiss, drawing back and watching as you followed him, dazed like you could hardly believe it. A strand of hair was stuck to your forehead, damp with sweat, and he absently swiped it away. All he wanted to do was admire you, holding you close and breathing you in. 

“Hi.” It was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his arms, a half smile flickering onto your face. You swallowed thickly, hardly believing this was real. “When you didn’t write, I…”

Zoro suddenly remembered who he’d come here with and hoped with everything in him they weren’t standing right behind him like they had been before. “I got caught up.”

“Too caught up to let me know you’re alive?” You could’ve been teasing, but he knew better. He saw it in how your eyes searched his face; he’d scared you.

His eyes went a special kind of soft only one person had ever seen in Roronoa Zoro, and he cupped your face gently. A grin tugged at his lips. “Like anyone could kill me.”

Your own lips twitched upwards as you leaned into his touch. Zoro wet his lips and glanced at the ground. His throat was suddenly dry as sand. “Uhm… I’m… uh…”

“Who’s your friend?” Nami. Voice filled with mirth, he could picture that shit eating smirk on her face before he ever turned around.

He reluctantly peeled away from you, clearing his throat and stepping to the side (He never strayed from your side, his hand finding solace in fidgeting with the frayed end of your shirt). Now came a moment he’d been dreading: the introductions.

You assessed the pair of people standing, and you didn’t know how to feel that they’d probably witnessed the entire display of affection, beginning to end. The entire shipyard did as well, a part of you reasoned, so you brushed it off.

It was a boy and girl, the former wearing a cool straw hat and the latter with even cooler hair the color of tangerines. The girl, who you assumed was the one who’d spoken, wore a thick grin, arms crossed as she leaned into her hip. The boy, however, was glancing between you and Zoro with a puzzled sort of smile.

Zoro’s fingers brushed your hip; he was radiating nerves. “Y/N, this is Luffy and Nami.”

Luffy had eyes so lively you had to offer up a smile, as though your body felt no choice but to mirror just a bit of his obvious enthusiasm. 

“Nice to meet you,” he said, and you felt he really meant it. Luffy tilted his head. “How do you know Zoro?”

“We… go back,” you said, casting Zoro a glance to find his usual deadpan back in place—God, how you’d missed that frown. 

A thought provoked you. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been happier, but what the hell are you doin’ here? I thought you’d be—I dunno—on the edge of nowhere sharing a beer with a bagged corpse or something.”

You zeroed in on Nami then, immediately having her beauty carved into your memory. Something oddly possessive welled in your gut before you quickly shut it down. Still, you inched closer to Zoro.

“That’s what we’re here to see you about,” said Zoro, and something about it struck a worry in you. The way your eyes met his must’ve betrayed everything, for his hand moved to grasp your own, speaking a million silent little things.

Sensing a story, you guided them to the closest tavern, finding a nice spot in a low lit booth. Luffy rushed to slide into the booth, followed by Nami. Zoro reached the opposite side of the booth, but took a step back to let you slide in first. 

Pausing to blink up at him, he worried, “You still like sitting on the inside?”

Warmth bloomed in your chest as you nodded, wasting no time in jumping into the booth and tugging him to sit flush against your side. 

In grand detail and elaborate hand motions, Luffy explained their mission: they had a map of the Grand Line, and when they got there, they would find the One Piece, and Luffy would become King of the Pirates.

To say you were at a loss was the understatement of the century. Jaw slack, you looked from Zoro to Nami to Luffy to Zoro, then the whole cycle over again. Finally, you settled for shifting to face Zoro entirely, a slow smirk forming on your lips. “But… Pirates?”

Just some years ago you’d been helping this man put pirates behind bars, you’d taken part in a few murders as well, and now he was trying to tell you he was one of them? You couldn’t help it; you laughed, your hand moving to take his underneath the table. 

Zoro choked on nothing as your thumb ran circles on the back of his hand, but he composed himself enough to shrug. “Surprise.”

“You never cease to amaze me.” Almost doe eyed, you gazed all over his sheepish expression, adoration plain on your face. “I bet you’re a shit pirate.”

Nami burst into a laughing fit, eyes alight. He tried to glare, but it failed immediately, everything in him softening the moment he caught your smile.

“He’s great,” Luffy disagreed, grinning back at you. “And he’ll be even better once he’s the world’s—”

“Greatest swordsman,” you finished. Your smile was fond and warm. “I know. You never actually said why you came to Syrup Village, by the way. Not that the tale of your victory over Boogie the Clown wasn’t thrilling.”

Luffy leaned forward. “We need a ship,” he told you. “One worthy of our crew. A home.”

“Well,” you said, “if you see one you like, I know someone who can help you buy it. He knows the Shipyard owner.”

If possible, Luffy’s smile grew. “I’ve got my eyes on one already. The one with the goat figurehead! That’s our ship.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to keep the disbelief out of your voice. You knew the ship he spoke of, and it would be a pricey one, that’s for sure. Instead of lying to Luffy’s face, you chose to focus your attention back on Zoro, whose eyes had never left your face. 

“Come on.” You tapped Zoro’s thigh to urge him out of the booth, grinning at how he went pink in the ears as he slid out. “My friend’ll work something out.”

You took the lead out of the tavern and to the Shipyard, eyes scouring the sailors for your friend as Nami and Luffy fell behind, almost of one mind as they sidled up to their solemn companion, caging him between them. Zoro’s gaze remained glued to your back, not willing to cast them even a glance. 

Luffy bumped his shoulder. “I think your friend was pretty happy to see you after all.” The tease in his voice was evident.

Zoro somehow kept from snarling when he snapped back, “I said she would be.”

“Never,” Nami chuckled, “would I have ever guessed you have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not…” Zoro watched you longingly—he watched the way you waved kindly to people as you passed, how your very essence gave life to your surroundings—and he sighed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami kept her voice low. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that how you greet all your friends?”

He didn’t answer, allowing their soft laughter to eat up his silence.

The truth of it was that this had gone better than Zoro had ever expected. His entire body still felt the burn of you against him, your lips on his—he stopped that thought where it stood, feeling that old flush creeping back up his neck. 

He had to talk to you—alone. He had to say so many things that he wasn’t exactly sure where to start. An apology. That’s where he’d go from. 

Unbeknownst to the whispers behind you, you were approaching the ship of Luffy’s affections, which you thought you remembered Usopp being on rotation for. 

You cupped your hands around your mouth and called out, “Usopp! Hey, Usopp!”

A moment later a grinning face popped up from behind the deck of the ship, sweat beaded on his brow as he threw his rag over his shoulder and leaned over to see her better. “Y/N!” He scanned the lot of them. “And company?”

The three following you finally caught up, the swordsman taking his place by your side. You shot him a little grin and tugged on his sleeve to draw him closer to you. “Usopp! I’ve got some friends wantin’ to talk to Kaya ‘bout a ship!”

Zoro turned his head toward you with his eyes still on Usopp as the boy scrambled down to meet them. “Kaya?”

“The friend of a friend. Hella rich and owns the Yard,” you muttered back. He nodded, not minding one bit when you linked your index finger with his. 

As he watched you as though you’d hung the very stars in the sky whilst you explained the situation to Usopp, he knew the second thing he’d say. He would work up the nerve to say what he couldn't three years ago.

જ⁀➴

The house—no, the mansion ahead was more extravagant than Zoro had seen in some time. He’d been close to your side the whole walk with Usopp, close enough so you could hear every one of his gripes about their guide’s questionable credibility. You giggled and bumped his shoulder every time, so he kept it up. 

“He’s… imaginative,” you defended, chewing your lip. “Relax. Kaya’ll let you buy the ship for sure. No thievery even necessary.”

He quirked a brow, amusement playing on his face. “How’d you…”

“Nami’s been swipin’ stuff off vendor carts.” You shrugged. “I figure stealing a ship is her first thought.”

Zoro couldn’t help but grin down at you, and when you met his eyes—oh, how deep his eyes were—you lost all sense of gravity. You nearly tripped over a rock before Zoro caught your arm and steadied you, chuckling at your expense. 

“Careful,” he teased, worsening the red in your cheeks. You stuck out your tongue in defense.

It was difficult for Zoro to stop looking at you, even as Kaya hobbled out of her home on the arm of her butler. If possible, you were even more beautiful than the last time he saw you. 

He tried not to be too miffed when you fled from his side to greet Kaya in a happy birthday embrace, especially when you offered Klahadore a curt nod and rushed back to hook your arm through his. Zoro glanced at you, then at the butler, and had the sense he’d seen the proper looking man before. He just couldn't place where from.

The turn of events was less than pleasing. Now, Zoro had to sit through a fancy dinner with too many people around, and probably not a chance to whisk you away from the prying eyes of his newfound crew. 

The dirty lot of you were ordered to clean up and only then shoved into Kaya’s expansive dressing room to find suitable clothes for dinner. Zoro walked into the dressing room in a soft black robe, feeling one hundred percent clean for the first time in a while. 

Instantly, his gaze gravitated to you examining the rows and rows of clothing, a number of dresses draped on your arm. Nami was moving quickly through the racks, every once in a while resting a dress she’d found on your shoulder and muttering something Zoro couldn’t catch. To both Zoro’s amusement and annoyance, you and Nami seemed to have hit it off instantly. 

He didn’t want to bother you, not when you looked to be having fun, so he took the first black thing he found and sat down on a chair near the corner. Zoro almost wanted to take a nap the second he sat down; even Kaya’s chairs felt expensive.

You dodged yet another dress from Nami, giggling, and caught sight of Zoro, appearing pleasantly surprised.

“Zoro!” Your smile was blinding. You swiftly passed a hand over the many clothes in your arms and grabbed what must’ve been your two favorites, dropping the rest in a lazy pile beside you. “I kinda feel bad not telling Vee where I am. She probably thinks I’m drunk in a barrel again.”

You disappeared behind a folding room divider, laughing under your breath. The two dresses were thrown to drape over the divider, and soon your clothes joined them. Zoro tried not to picture it too much, especially when he caught Nami staring at him with a mischievous grin. 

He ignored her and rubbed at his eyes, exhaustion never too far away. Zoro remembered the doctor he’d left you with. She had seemed nice enough at the time, so it was good to know she hadn’t murdered you in the night, or something like that. “Vee’ll be fine.”

Nami headed for the door, her chosen dress in hand and a toothy grin on her face as she nodded exaggeratedly toward the divider you stood behind. Now, Zoro might have rolled his eyes, and he might have flipped her off, but only because he’d drink acid before telling Nami he was grateful.

“Ay, Nami?” you called. “Can you help me with this?”

He was grateful till just then, as his gaze locked on the divider and his heart picked up a considerable pace. Your shadow danced on the wall behind the divider, and Zoro forgot how to speak. All he could do was think many thoughts he’d put off for a very long time.

Three years had given him a lot of time to think—he thought a lot about you, and his regrets, and how he wished it were easier for him to just tear out his heart and stitch it to his sleeve. You certainly made it look easy.

But it wasn't, and Zoro couldn’t change that anytime soon. He wasn’t too worried about it, though. You had this uncanny way of knowing exactly what he was trying to say, even when he said it all wrong.

“Nami?”

“Nami’s gone,” he said, voice near cracking. He grimaced and stood from his chair. “Can I help?”

There wasn’t so much as a hesitation before you answered, “Mhmm. Come ‘ere.”

His feet moved before he ever told them to. Zoro still wasn’t entirely sure if he enjoyed this chokehold you had on him... but then he was rounding the divider warily, finding you standing with your back to him, squirming around as you tried to reach the zipper of your dress, and he took it back. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth and then some, probably.  

Lips twitching upward, he stepped up behind you, his hands ghosting your skin as if he wasn’t sure what to do. His eyes raked up your back, and he froze. A thin white scar ran across your skin.

You peered up into the mirror in front of you, simultaneously locking eyes with the green-haired man. He didn’t look like he was breathing, almost afraid to touch you, it seemed. “Zoro?”

He hummed distantly. You grew concerned at the cloudiness in his eyes, and then his fingers ghosted your skin, tracing a line you’d memorized and yet somehow forgotten. Oh. 

You spun around and sighed as he took a considerate step back. You tried to speak, but nothing came to mind. How could you have forgotten your scar? How could you have just let him see it? You frantically fumbled to pull the zipper up yourself, stammering, “Zoro, I, uhm…”

His jaw set all of a sudden, and he met your gaze head on. “I’m… sorry. That I left.”

You did not want to have that conversation. Not right now. You could save it for later, after the nice dinner, after you relished in ignoring the elephant standing in the corner. Because as much as you shoved it all down, Zoro had left you there, and it’d taken him three years to come back, as promised. 

But he came back, you reminded yourself. A little devil in your mind piped in, not for you though.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms over your chest. “I understand why.”

“But I regret it. Everyday.” Zoro raked a hand through his hair. “Everyday I wanted to come back.”

It looked like he’d been bottling all that up, and you wondered if the words had been on the tip of his tongue from the moment he laid eyes on you. “Why didn’t you?”

“I… I didn't know if…”

“If…”

Zoro looked anywhere but you, wetting his lips. If your life was better without me. “If you liked it here.”

You really, truly couldn’t help it; you laughed. You laughed and laughed till your sides ached and you teetered to the side before Zoro’s hands settled on your shoulders to steady you.  “Don’t laugh! I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Slowly, the smile slipped from your face as you reached for his hand and cupped it in both of yours. “Zoro, everyday for three years I waited for you, because you made me a promise… But I need to know… Would you have come back if it wasn’t convenient? I mean, did you really plan on it anytime soon?”

He tried to pull away and you nearly thought of letting him, before you laced your fingers with his and refused to let him go. Cold worry flooded your gut. “I’m sorry, that’s not fair—”

“It’s fair,” he cut you off. Zoro looked down at your interlocked hands. “I told you I’d come back. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Still, he hadn’t answered the question, and you needed to know. “So, would you have?”

Zoro didn’t answer right away, practically giving you heart palpitations as he took his sweet time. “I want you to be there, when I defeat him.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his face drawn close to yours, eyes hung. “Hawkeye Mihawk is harder to find than I thought. Time kept slipping by and… I don’t know. I got…” 

Scared, but he didn’t want to say that. Fortunately, you read between the lines, squeezing his hand. He sighed, eyes shut as his head drifted to rest against yours. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, raising your hand to ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck. “I probably would have waited till then, to be perfectly honest.” Your cheeks warmed, gaze lowering. You raised a brow at the robe tied around him, breaking you out of the moment. “This what you’re wearin’ to dinner?”

There was a tease in your voice that had Zoro rolling his eyes as he slipped his hand back into yours and tugged you out from behind the divider. He dropped your hand only to pick up the suit jacket and hold it out to you for you to inspect. 

Brows still vaulted, you looked up through your lashes, smirking. “Hon’, you can’t just wear a jacket.”

He blinked, giving a bashful scoff. “I know that.”

He was too busy not being embarrassed to notice when you shook your head and skipped past him, planting a kiss on his cheek as you passed. 

“Hmm.” You skimmed through some of the clothes, finding a dress shirt that stood out to you. “Here. Try this.”

You took a hanger and held it up for him to see. Zoro wrinkled his nose. “It’s pink.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved the shirt into his hands and moved to find some pants. “I like pink. You like me. Therefore, you like pink.”

Zoro doubted that logic, but you were practically an angel in disguise with the way you glided back over to him and handed over a pair of black dress pants. Your smile was a dangerous thing, because the more he looked at it the more you made a whole lot of sense. 

“Fine,” he murmured, disappearing behind the divider and emerging a few moments later, decked out in clothes nicer than he felt he deserved. 

You turned, about to say something when you laid eyes on him and faltered. Your eyes reflected a longing affection that had Zoro flustered in an instant, clearing his throat and cracking his neck in the silence. The fond grin on your face threatened to have him crumbling at your feet.

“Something on my face?”

A beautiful laugh bubbled from your chest, a happy warmth in your cheeks as you smoothed down the fabric of his jacket, resting your palms on his chest. The topmost buttons of the pink dress shirt were yet to be fastened, and you moved to finish it up all while that lovely smile graced your lips.

You were halfway done with the last button when Zoro’s hand cradled the back of your head, angling you to look at him again. Breath hitched, the words begged to be set free. Always on the tip of his tongue. “I…”

And for once, you were patient, more patient than he ever deserved. Zoro felt panic well up in his lungs, deep in his heart, and he abandoned the attempt altogether, surging forward to catch your lips against his. You had no complaints, sighing as your fingertips tickled the skin of his neck. 

“Guys!”

“No, Luffy, stop!”

The swift footfalls of Luffy followed his shout. You snapped away from Zoro, the both of you taking a swift step back. 

Your foot caught the pile of dresses you’d left, a yelp fleeing your lips as you fell flat on your back into the clothes. Zoro took one look at you and coughed, literally choking on a sudden laugh.

Luffy rushed into the room, stopping at the door. Nami stumbled after him with a glare and hissed, “Luffy!”

He cast her an odd look. “What?” Not paying Nami any more mind, Luffy grinned and said, “Come on, I can smell dinner.”

You let out a huff as Zoro grinned down at you, holding out a hand to pull you up. Hobbling on your feet, you patted Zoro’s arm and swept past him, approaching Nami with a smile.

“Oh, you look lovely,” you awed, admiring her fixed hair and light make up.

Nami raised her shoulders to meet her ears, saying, “I try.”

Following her down the hall, Zoro was left with Luffy, who said suddenly, “Why was she on the floor?”

Somehow refraining from rolling his eyes, Zoro simply left it at that, trudging after you and Nami.

જ⁀➴

Things had gone south very, very quickly. You hadn’t been so exhilarated in years. 

The dinner was exquisite, but that was where the good things ended. Your late night search for water was cut short by the sound of voices from the entry hall.

Rushing to the edge of the banister, you found Kaya’s housekeepers dragging Luffy outside and handed over to the marines, the butler standing there void of any expression. That, paired with the sudden disappearance of all your friends from their rooms, was starting to be a bit more than what you signed up for.

“Hey!” you shouted, voice bellowing down the foyer. You nearly face planted down the stairs with how frantically you ran down them. “Let ‘im go!”

Klahadore gave you one conniving glare and pushed his glasses back up his nose. The second your feet hit the floor, Sham, that mousy little maid, jumped you and had your hands twisted behind your back. No amount of struggling ever loosened her grip, and she’d kicked in the back of your knees before you could even think to swipe at her feet.

“Ah,” drawled the butler. You huffed, shaking, and met the man’s black eyes. “Another of these Strawhats, as you called them. Care to take another pirate off our hands?”

There stood two young looking boys, decked out in matching marine uniforms, but one had cropped pink hair and the other had a shock of horrendously cut blond hair. The blond stepped forth with a tight smile. “Gladly. Thank you for your assistance, sir. You’ve helped to make the seas safer.”

Two other marines came out to take you by your arms while you grunted out curses. You could only get one look over your shoulder as the mansion doors shut behind you, giving you a clear view of the dark smile curling up Klahadore’s face. You fought tirelessly. “Hey! Hey! I—I’m not a pirate! He’s lying! Let me—Luffy! What’s wrong with Luffy?!”

The boy with pink hair was in your face then, his expression much softer than the others. “Calm down. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You hardly believed that, but the kindness emanated in the boy’s tone was just enough to ease your struggling. Still heaving, you cast a look over at Luffy, who was being dragged along ahead of you. His head lolled at his shoulders and his feet dragged along behind him. “What’s wrong with Luffy?”

“He’s only drunk,” said the blond, though he amended himself upon hearing a not so comforting sound come from Luffy’s gut. “Probably…” 

“He’s sick,” you cried. 

“Drunk,” the blond marine insisted, putting an end to the matter by turning on his heel.

You looked back at Kaya’s mansion, which grew smaller by the second, and panic welled in your chest. Something was very, very wrong. Why had the butler done that? Who was Klahadore really? What were the marines there for? Where was Zoro?

Luffy’s sudden hurling almost gave you a heart attack, momentarily causing the marines at your sides to lose focus as tons of blue gunk flew out of Luffy’s mouth… and onto the blond marine. You couldn’t help it—you laughed, almost delirious, throwing your head back and all. The pink haired marine cracked a smile while the other four marines grimaced.

Released out of the marines’ grasp, Luffy hit his knees and heaved onto the dirt, expelling the rest of whatever poison he’d gotten a hold of. His distress sobered you instantly, and with your captors distracted you rushed forth to kneel beside him. When the marines lunged to catch you, the pink haired marine, presumably the one in charge despite his small stature, ordered them, “Stop. She won’t run.”

This guy honestly gave you too much benefit of doubt, but still, he was right; you didn’t run. Instead, you rubbed calming circles on Luffy’s back as the kind marine kneeled beside you, looking concerned himself. 

At your glare, he murmured, “I’m Koby. I… I know him.”

You blinked. “Small world.”

“Yep.”

Luffy gave one last cough, and with another gasp he raised his head to stare dazedly from you to Koby. His eyes narrowed in confusion upon finding the boy there. “Koby? I… I gotta go back.” 

There wasn’t any room for argument in his tone, his gaze shifting to settle on you. “That butler… He’s gonna kill Kaya, and then he’s going after our crew.”

“No.” Breathing shaky, your jaw set. You made to jump to your feet and bolt back to the mansion when you remembered you were technically still a prisoner, your glare returning at full force. 

Koby looked to be at a terrible loss, saying, “I’m under direct orders to bring you in.”

“Kaya’s going to die,” you snapped at him, causing Koby to almost flinch. “You want her blood on your hands, marine?”

Much softer, much less angry, Luffy set a hand on Koby’s shoulder and said, “You said you wanted to help innocent people. Kaya’s innocent.”

For an everlasting moment, you thought maybe Koby was going to let you go. The consideration crossing his eyes was sign enough. And then it all went to complete shit.

The blond marine scoffed. “Know what?” He retrieved his pistol from its holster and loaded it in one motion, running your blood cold. “Screw this.”

Koby jumped to his feet. “Helmeppo, don’t!” he ordered, falling on deaf ears.

There was no shake in the marine’s hand as he stared down a solemn Luffy. “Father always said a dead pirate weighs the same as a live one.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, you rose to your feet and inched yourself a good distance away from Luffy. “Helmeppo?” you scoffed, a panicked tilt to your voice. “That’s one step away from being hippo, dude. Back up.”

Eyes aflame, Helmeppo blinked his attention away from Luffy to find you, just like you wanted. 

Koby almost shouted, “Garp gave us strict orders.”

Helmeppo’s glare remained zeroed in on you. “Concerning this one,” he said, jutting his chin at Luffy, “but you.” He shifted to aim at you, a sadistic grin marking his face. “Garp doesn’t want you.”

Your heels dug into the dirt, a slight ring in your ears. It’d been some time since you stared down a gun. Luffy jumped up and took a threatening step toward the marine. “Leave her alone.”

“I will,” Helmeppo barked. “If you start walking, pirate, or she dies.”

You swallowed thickly. Where the hell was Zoro? “Have you ever even fired one of those before, cadet?”

You were certain Helmeppo would have at least bashed you over the head with the butt of his gun for that, had the pained grunts and clank of metal not cut jaggedly through the air. The bodies of the other marines sunk to the ground, unmoving, and a shadow stepped out of the dark.

In the flicker of the pathway torches stood the Demon Pirate Hunter, looking absolutely pissed.

He took one look at Helmeppo, saw where his gun was pointed, and sneered. “Hey, haircut.”

You’d never seen someone drop their gun so fast, the weapon hitting Helmeppo’s thigh. All your bravery fled your body as your steeled back shoulders dropped, allowing yourself to feel every bit of fear now that Zoro was there. It would’ve been sad to die like that, you thought.

But a sense of comfort followed that fear. You weren’t going to die—there was Zoro, and Zoro would never let you die by the hands of some arrogant marine. He wouldn’t let you die, period.

The devil-eyed man approached, looking only at you and the relieved smile tugging at your lips. He stopped, landed a knockout punch to Helmeppo’s face, and barely shook out his fist like it was nothing.

Helmeppo’s head hadn’t so much as hit the ground before you were racing at Zoro, jumping over the unconscious soldier. You hooked your arms around Zoro’s neck in a tight hug. “You’re alive.”

“Have a little faith,” he muttered back, pulling away to offer a teasing smile. 

Luffy let out a victory cry and quickly dealt with Koby, ditching the panicked soldier on the road as the three of you ran back to Kaya’s mansion. 

The massive house came into focus, basked in the darkness of night. Luffy left to find Kaya as you pulled out your dagger, ready for a fight, only for Zoro to tap your shoulder gently. His bandana was tied securely around his head, his brows drawn taut, and it took you far too long to realize he was holding out that white hilted sword you’d polished and shined too many times to count times.

You stared at it for far too long as well, bringing Zoro to roll his eyes. “You’re not fighting with a knife. Take it.” At your raised brows, he grabbed your hand and forced his sword into your palm, giving you a meaningful look.

“You’re not out of practice, are you?” he asked, a tease in his voice as he headed for the mansion doors. 

Spinning the Wado Ichimonji around your hand, you shot him a grin. “Please. You think I went three years and never picked up a sword?” You tsked. “And let all your training go to waste?”

Huffing out a chuckle, Zoro shoved open the doors and warily went inside. You cast his sword a fond glance, shook out your shoulders, and followed suit. Despite your assurances, you were nervous. More nervous than when you were staring down Helmeppo’s pistol. 

Practicing swordsmanship on scarecrows was much different than actually fighting a warm body. Warm bodies fight back. 

Adjusting your grip on the hilt, you raised the blade and sweeped the area, locking eyes with Zoro a moment later. The foyer was empty. It was quiet. Zoro’s eyes widened upon something behind you, giving you just enough time to whip around and parry the strike of Sham.

The maid still wore her work attire, but now she held a silver shortsword in hand, black paint drawing the shape of a cat’s nose down her face. Buchi lunged out as well, catching his two swords against Zoro’s. 

You shoved off of Sham and scurried back to escape her unrelenting strikes. Dodging around a small table you spun to swing at her neck before she could change directions. She jerked away with a literal hiss, eyes flashing.

Sham scooped a broom off the ground and jumped high into the air, moving the broom and the sword in a cross as she landed a blow against the flat of your blade. With a grunt of exertion you ducked and swept under her arm, Sham’s strength working against her as she went flying forward.

Buchi chased Zoro up the staircase, taking out some posts on the banister. Startling at the sound of cracking wood, Sham got a stab at you, catching your blade arm. Wincing through the pain you tightened your grip on the Wado Ichimonji, dodging this way and that to avoid being skewered by Sham’s advances.

“Hey!” Zoro snapped, dragging Sham’s attention to him. He leaped off the stairs and cut her broom in half, finding himself now under the attack of both Black Cats. 

Chest heaving, you rolled out your shoulder and bit back a whine at the shudder of pain, swapping the sword to your other hand. Zoro lunged around Sham and sought high ground back on the stairs. Sham grinned up at him, showing off his second sword she’d swiped from its sheath. 

An annoyed tick appeared on Zoro’s jaw. 

You seemed to have been forgotten in favor of better competition, slinking into the shadows of the room. Sham stabbed Zoro’s sword into the cabinet beside her, leaving it unattended as she and Buchi cornered Zoro on the stairs. 

He swiftly leaped over them and retrieved his sword, locking you in place with a glare. Don’t move, it said. Stop while you’re ahead.

Ears ringing, you traced the line of action as Zoro fought the two pirates down to the center of the room again. He knocked Sham aside only for Buchi to lunge again, allowing the other to get back up again. Zoro shoved Buchi against the ground, successfully knocking him out. 

Letting out a hiss, Sham ran at him and nicked his cheek, knocking one sword from his hand as he evaded another hit. Something furious welled up and out of you.

“Hey!” Rushing forth, you caught her by surprise, pressing your sword against hers with all your weakening might. Her footing was off, her legs collapsing long enough for you to descend upon her and bash the brunt of the sword against her skull. 

The newfound silence crackled in the air between you and your swordsman. Breathing deeply, you suddenly let out a curse, dropping Zoro’s sword as the gash on your arm finally strained from that last blow. 

“Fuck.” You shook out your arm to stave off the pain. “Shit-shit-shit, that hurt. Gah!” Then noticing the Wado Ichimonji on the floor, “Oh, I dropped it, I’m sorry—”

You kneeled down and picked it up in your good arm, still rolling out your shoulder even as you held it out for him, eyes shining with an innocent adoration as if you hadn’t just jumped a woman for him. 

Zoro only stood there in complete and utter awe, three years worth of dreams and nightmares flooding his head as you stood before him. Fighting alongside him. Just like you used to. Like he dreamed of. Like he wanted to for the rest of your lives. He heaved, struggling to get enough air.

“I love you.” A hefty weight was lifted off his strained shoulders.

His eyes bore into yours as he caught his breath, nearly nervous in how he watched you. You wouldn’t have been surprised if your heart exploded, giving way to every feeling coursing through your veins. A smile split across your face, you set the sword on the ground to rush at him, removing all space between you and him, flushing yourself to his chest. 

Sham and Buchi’s swift swordsmanship was nothing compared to the speed at which you left kisses on his face, leaving no skin unloved. Zoro’s face scrunched up through a laugh, light and airy, his cheeks dusted pink.

Finished with your attacks you pressed your forehead to his, cradling his head in your hands and just breathing in the moment. The two pirates were groaning at your feet, but you hardly heard it, swaying in the silence.

“This was well worth the wait,” you said.

He hummed his agreement against your lips, ghosting a kiss, meaning to really kiss you till you physically forced him away, when a voice echoed from the top of the stairs.

“Oh,” Kaya awed, arm hooked through Usopp’s. “How sweet.”

Zoro tried to back away when you hooked a hand around his neck and yanked him down to your level, kissing him gently.

“I love you too,” you murmured, the pair of you ignoring Usopp’s encouraging holler. “So, so, so much.”

Behind you, Sham started to wriggle awake. The smile slid fast from your face as you whirled around and gripped her by the hair, ordering Zoro to get a rope so you could secure your two prisoners.

Zoro grinned lovingly as the rest of the crew descended the stairs. “Yes ma'am.”

જ⁀➴

“I hereby call this ship,” Luffy began to declare, turning away from a teary eyed Kaya to face the grand vessel on the sunny shipyard. “The Going Merry!”

“It’s yours now,” Kaya smiled. “Your new home.”

In reply Luffy let out a shrill cry of victory, dragging a chuckle out of you. Your arm was freshly bandaged, all three of Zoro’s swords now back in their rightful sheaths. You leaned on him slightly, chin rested on his shoulder as your eyes begged for some rest. 

Luffy turned to smile at Usopp, who’d wandered some distance away. “Usopp! What’re you waiting for?”

Usopp stumbled over his words, trying his hardest not to seem excited at the prospect, and after a brief goodbye with Kaya followed by a sweet kiss, he agreed. Before you could even smile, a worried figure broke through the crowds of the shipyard.

“Oh, God,” Vee cried as soon as she spotted you. She jumped over a rail and down some stairs to envelope you in her arms. “I heard about what happened!”

Nami tilted her head. “How on earth did you hear?”

Vee waved off her question with a brief the grannies hear everything and took you by the shoulders. “I never liked that butler, I—” 

She noticed Kaya standing to the side, her mouth snapping shut. “I’m… sorry for your losses, Miss Kaya.”

The sweet girl simply smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Luffy clapped Usopp on his shoulder, smile bright as the sun, and turned his sights on his next recruit. Luffy zeroed in on you, calling out, “Y/N! You’re coming, right?”

Vee cast him an odd glance, shifting her gaze back to you. “What…”

She blinked and seemed to only just notice the swordsman at your shoulder, and she let out a gentle laugh. “Would you look at that? Speak of the devil.”

Zoro scoffed, half grinning. “Hey, Vee.”

Realization was slowly dawning on the woman as she took your hand in hers. “So… This means you’re off then?”

You were almost reluctant to nod. “Yes.”

A hundred different thoughts flashed across her eyes, lips pursing, before Vee nodded firmly. “Right. You’ll need supplies, won’t you? Some herbs and bottles, to continue your work. A textbook maybe.” Her hand found your cheek as she gave a watery smile. “You’re exceptional, you know. I’m proud of my apprentice.”

A burn welled up in your throat as you cupped her hand. “What about you? Who’ll help with the clinic?”

“You know, Vee,” Usopp cut in. “Kaya was just saying she’d like to be a doctor.”

Kaya gently smacked his arm, reprimanding him as Vee blinked surprisedly.  “Really? Uhm, well, I’d be happy to teach you, get you ready for academy entries… If that’s something you’d like?”

“Yes,” Kaya blurted, flushing slightly through her barely suppressed smile. 

“Great!” Luffy exclaimed, locking eyes with you. “You’re in, then?”

You took in a steadying breath, your hand searching sightlessly behind you, Zoro’s hand meeting yours moments later. “I’m in.”

Nami leaned into her hip, grinning. “Good. I don’t know how much more testosterone I could take.”

The lot of you set off in different directions, off to gather supplies as quickly as possible to get off the island before the marines caught back up. You lagged behind, Zoro falling into step beside you.

He offered you a little smile and moved his arm around your shoulder, liking the feel of you tucked into his side. It finally settled in that this was happening. Years of wishing finally came to fruition. You pressed a kiss to the back of Zoro’s hand.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you confessed.

“I swore, didn’t I?” Zoro said.

Through a blinding smile, you stopped and kissed him. “You did.” Your fingertips grazed the back of his neck as you held him close, running a shiver down his spine. You pressed your forehead to his and mused, “We’re still not the greatest apothecary and swordsman in the world though.”

“Dracule Mihawk is hard to find—”

“I’m kidding. We’ve got all the time in the world to get there.”

Although you weren’t exactly sure how one becomes the greatest apothecary in the world, you were exactly sure that wherever your ambitions took you, Zoro would be there. If you had any influence on fate, you would sail together till the end of your days.

જ⁀➴

Four rickety boned women stood along the wall of the tavern, hawkeyed gazes scouring the streets of Syrup Village. Martha, June, Polly, and of course, Miss Irma.

Irma massaged at her ever-pained neck, searching out something of interest, when her ears caught the tail end of a laugh. Sweeping the street, her gaze stopped upon a shocking sight.

Well, she thought, that’s something you don’t see everyday.

Miss Kaya from the mansion estate was leaving the town clinic, arm in arm with that troublesome Usopp. Irma harrumphed, thinking Miss Kaya should know better than to keep such company, when she noticed Usopp was followed by some odd companions.

A ginger girl looking worse for wear, a boy with a straw hat so worn she wouldn’t be surprised if the wind blew it apart, and Vee, the village doctor. A fairly odd group indeed.

She hummed curiously, especially when the door to the clinic swung open once more to reveal Vee’s apprentice, a full to the brim satchel on her shoulder. Irma swatted at her three friends and pointed their attention to the sight just as someone else followed the girl out of the clinic.

Martha gaped, her cigarette falling to the ground. Irma, June, and Polly reacted the same, not entirely believing it.

Right behind the apprentice walked a handsome young man with a shock of green hair and three swords at his hip, a gentle smile on his face as he tugged on the girl’s arm to get her to face him again. Turning around, she was greeted with a kiss to her forehead and a gaze so warm Irma felt its heat from across the street.

“It’s—It’s that boy,” Polly exclaimed. “The one that left her.”

Irma started to grin a satisfied kind of grin, crossing her arms over her chest. “Pay up, ladies. I told you he’d come back for her.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @nadlx33333 @fluffybunnyu @ellisaworld @hawkins-2000 @bdudette @misfits1a @star-yawnznn

[yandere--stuck]

Yandere!Jax x Reader Headcanons

💜 As the most recent addition to the circus, after Pomni, you're a prime target for Jax's particular brand of hazing. He'll immediately latch onto any perceived weaknesses and fears to get under your skin and make your newfound existence in an eternal Hell all the more disorienting and miserable. And no matter how you react, Jax only seems to feed off it.

🐰 Fearful and upset? Jax gets so much amusement out of making you scared. Even if the others try to comfort you, Jax will immediately pop in with commentary to amplify your misery. Aw, gonna cry, little baby? Oh, you poor, poor thing. It's okay, Jax will be your friend. Might as well, right? Not like you can exactly escape him.

💜 Angry? Try to fight back? Jax finds it hilarious. He might even encourage you, urging you closer to him to yell in his face or to land a hit on him. Depending on how tall your new form is compared to his, he might be able to push your face away while you swipe at air. Ooo, how about a game of tag, one where he taunts and insults you until you chase after him. Even if you manage to get your hands on him and beat the tar out of him, the feeling of victory you've gotten out of tying his limbs into bows is quickly extinguished by the realization that he likes it. Jax laughs until he's breathless. You're a real riot, you know? You two should hang out more often.~

🐰 Even if you're near unresponsive, it won't put him off. He'll keep pushing and pushing you until he's sure you'll break. He'll insult you, spread rumors, even go so far as to shove you around if it means getting a reaction out of you. Jax will delight in your repressed rage or misery. Even if you become completely despondent, it fills Jax with a sadistic glee. His poor little sad sack. His cute punching bag. 

💜 Gangle is silently thankful for your presence having drawn Jax's attention off of her. Now when the group is off on adventures, if you choose to join, your unofficial role is essentially Jax's lackey. You're forced through threat or cohesion to do the hard things that nobody wants to do - or, rather, forced to the things only Jax wants done, but doesn't want to do himself. If you refuse, you'll be met with a barrage of insults until he either gives up or physically forces you to do what he wants.

🐰 Jax knows the others can't stand his behavior. Can't stand him. But, they like you. Of course they do. So he has to keep you away from them. You're his, after all. He chose you. That's why he's honed in on you so obsessively. He'll lead you away from them, and only then is he gentle. An arm around your shoulder. A kiss to the cheek. His voice, for once, is soft and gentle. Pleading with you with big bunny eyes that he needs you. That he really cares. He wouldn't push you so hard if he didn't care. If he didn't… Love you. You might not believe it, at first. That's okay, though. Jax has plenty of time to convince you. And when you do, when you finally accept him and his place by your side, you won't be able to the smug, shit-eating grin on his when you turn your back to him.