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yannawayne · 11 months ago

Text

not a weapon but a person—capable of loving and being loved.

SYNOPSIS: You get kidnapped and Damian snaps. TAGS: Graphic Depictions Of Violence! Genderneutral! Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Kidnapping, Childhood Trauma, My Mother is the Worst Woman Alive and I'm her Favorite Son, Damian is Eighteen.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

A heavy thud. Ragged breaths. Then the sound of footsteps.

The same hands that had ruthlessly beat your kidnappers to a pulp—the ones that had pulverized flesh with blood splattered across his knuckles, the ones that had heard the crack of bones beneath his grip, the ones that bore the scars of countless cuts and stabs—now traced your cheek with a featherlight touch.

"Beloved."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

YOUR PALMS WERE PRESSED tightly against your eyes, wrists raw and burning from the rope that had bound them just minutes ago. Sobs slipped from your lips, eyes bloodshot, and mouth parched dry.

The rotting smell of the warehouse was an assault on your senses—an acrid mix of trash, harsh chemicals, and the faint tang of gunfire that lingered in the air.

There was a hushing in your ear as you leaned against a cloaked figure—Batman. Bruce.

His hand rubbed at your back, firm and steady, a grounding presence amid the chaos. His cape, dark and imposing, wrapped around you like a shield, blocking out the violence unfolding just in front of you.

Shadows danced erratically on the walls as Robin moved with lethal precision. Bodies fell unconscious, thudding heavily against the concrete floor. Blood splattered. Screams echoed. Each punch landed with a sickening crunch, bones breaking. Crates and debris were scattered haphazardly, wood and concrete slamming onto the floor.

Damian couldn't see anything but red.

His vision was tunneled, focused solely on the next target, the next blow, the next scream.

A swift roundhouse kick sent one assailant crashing into a stack of crates, the wood splintering under the impact. One punch connected with a jaw, the sickening crunch of bone breaking echoing through the air. Blood sprayed on his fist. Another one rushed toward him, brandishing a knife, but he disarmed the man with a swift twist of the wrist, jamming the blade into the attacker's palm. The man screamed, clutching his arm as red streaked his skin.

Damian's eyes flickered with a dark satisfaction as he watched the thug stumble backward, clutching at the wound.

One last man remained. One who had lunged at him from behind, grappling onto his back. Damian scowled and surged backward, driving both himself and his attacker into the wall with bone-crushing force. The man's grip loosened, a pained gasp escaping his lips as the air was knocked out of him.

"Fool," Damian spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?"

The thug whimpered, trying to scramble away, but Damian was relentless. He twisted sharply, dislodging the assailant and slamming an elbow into his ribs. The man crumpled against the wall, clutching his side, his eyes wide with fear and pain.

"You think you can touch those I care for and get away with it?" Damian growled. He didn't give the thug a moment to recover. He swung a powerful fist into the guy's face, the impact sending a spray of blood and teeth into the air.

"F-Fuck you, man!" The man yanked a gun from his waistband, but before he could even line up a shot, Damian’s foot kicked out, sending the weapon flying through the air. The gun clattered against the concrete with a deafening clang. With a snarl, Damian lunged forward, grabbing the thug by the collar and slamming him into the ground.

"H-Hey! Mercy! Mercy! I'm a-already down!" the assailant wailed, his hands clawing at Robin's uniform in a desperate plea. "The Bat don’t kill! You—you ain't gonna kill me!"

Damian's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as his voice dropped to a low, menacing growl.

"I'm not Batman," he spat, the tone amplified and darkened by the modulator. "Every breath you take is a mercy I choose to grant. By the time I'm finished, you'll be begging for death."

He raised his fist, the tension in his muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap. The thug’s eyes widened in terror, his pleas growing frantic as he braced for the blow. However, just as Damian’s fist was about to land, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, grabbing onto his hand with a vice-like grip. Before he could react, Batman—Bruce—had tackled him, pinning him firmly against his chest.

“Robin,” Batman’s voice was firm, concern barely concealed. “That’s enough.”

Damian's struggle was fierce, his body thrashing under his father’s strength as he roared in fury.

“Let me go!” he screamed, his voice raw with anger. “I’m going to kill him for what he did to them!”

The anger engulfed Damian like a stormy ocean, dragging him beneath its violent waves. Visions of his mother’s face, his grandfather’s form, and accusing shadows surged from the depths, all condemning him. Damian’s cries erupted into a raw, guttural scream, gradually dissolving into ragged gasps as he battled the relentless tide.

Though Bruce had shaped him into a hero, a beacon of justice, and his family had offered him a fragile semblance of belonging, Damian was still his mother’s son.

The violence and anger roiling within him were like roots twisted deep within his soul. There was not a thing that could purge the primal rage and pain that had taken root before his first breath.

When he finally broke through the surface, baptized in blood and weighed down by sins that clung to him like chains, he sought you out with an urgent, almost desperate need.

A heavy thud. Ragged breaths. Then the sound of footsteps.

"Beloved."

Your hands were carefully peeled away from your eyes, and you met soft emerald eyes through a veil of tears. His hands moved to unlatch his cape, the soft fabric pooling around your form. His lips, speaking in his mother tongue, murmured a soothing litany of comfort, Arabic endearments flowing like silk. He pressed your head against his chest and you found refuge in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Bruce watched the scene with a pensive look. His son's body had dwarfed you, broad shoulders and strong muscles enveloping your form like a shield. His head was tucked into your hair, his hands raking all over your tense and sweaty skin.

Damian had momentarily shed the hardened exterior he so often wore—a soldier with a heart that, despite its armor, occasionally revealed cracks. This was a side of him that often surprised people.

Because Damian Wayne was the farthest thing from soft.

He was all sharp edges. Poisonous, scalding words that could sear through the thickest armor of patience. Rough, nearly violent in his touch, like a blade pressed against skin. There was no gentleness in his movements, no softness in his gestures, only the relentless precision of a trained killer.

From the earliest moments he could walk, his life was an unending series of tests, each more grueling than the last. Each cut and bruise was a lesson. Failure was met with harsh punishment, success with silent approval. Affection and praise were as rare as mercy.

The League’s doctrine was ingrained in him: emotions were vulnerabilities, attachments were liabilities, and loyalty was owed only to the mission and the League. His purpose in the League of Assassins was clear—to be the perfect instrument of their will, a living embodiment of their principles.

Emotion was his enemy, a weakness to be purged. He was taught to suppress his feelings, to turn them off like a switch. Pain was an illusion, fear a phantom to be banished. He learned to compartmentalize his thoughts, locking away his humanity in the deepest recesses of his mind.

By the time he reached ten, he was a finely honed instrument of death.

A living weapon in a world that knew no peace.

It had taken Bruce eight grueling years to begin undoing the damage. And even then, he had barely scratched the surface.

Then there was you.

The trembling, warm-faced student Damian had introduced during his senior year—his partner for a science project, he said.

At first, the interactions were subtle—a fleeting glance here, a hesitant smile there. But as time went on, it became impossible to ignore the way your presence began to soften the sharp edges of Damian's demeanor.

Bruce had seen you both fall for each other over the months. And he saw hope.

You were the opposite of every lesson Damian has ever been taught.

To him, you were soft, in every sense. Soft movements, soft features, soft voice. Everything about you exuded comfort.

You made something he had always pushed down and shut away come to the surface.

You made him feel things—things he should not.

When you touched him with your soft hands, everything in him burned. The gentle brush of your fingers against his skin ignited a searing heat, a raw and unfamiliar longing that clawed violently at the walls he had worked so hard to maintain. Each touch chipped away at the concrete barriers of his training, breaking them down and leaving him exposed, aching for something he couldn’t quite name.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

Mania. Drake had called it, a wild obsession of his that could consume and devour.

Damian's arms encircled you like a lifeline, holding you close as though he feared you might slip away. His lips brushed against your temple, warm and tender, while his biceps pressed firmly under your chest, anchoring you in his embrace. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, blood, and the lingering residue of fear.

And yet, amidst these odors, there was an underlying, almost imperceptible hint of Damian’s cologne—Arabian oudh. It was rich and smoky, with notes of aged wood, a faint earthy sweetness, and subtle undertones of leather and spice.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the fabric of his suit brushing against your cheek.

A Crush. Todd had chalked it up to puppy love, something that would eventually fade with time.

He lifted you effortlessly from the floor, his strength evident in his smooth, controlled movements. The way he adjusted his hold with such care to ensure your comfort spoke louder than any words could.

Warmth enveloped you—Damian had always run hotter, like a human furnace. On sweltering days, his clinginess (no matter how much he denied it) had been a nuisance, his heat making you feel as if your skin might melt off. But now, that same warmth was a comforting embrace, a welcome shield.

Infatuation. Grayson had suggested, thinking it was just a fleeting, intense passion. But there was something deeper in the way he looked at you, something that felt permanent and unshakeable.

“I am here. I am here, beloved," he spoke to you lowly. "It's alright now."

Love. His father called it.

In an instant, everything seemed to collapse around you. Tears welled up and streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed into his chest, each shudder of your body sending waves of anguish through him. Damian’s heart twisted painfully at the sight of you.

He has seen suffering—he has inflicted suffering. But this was different. Your pain was a torment he was helpless to alleviate.

Face twisted in guilt, he pulled you tighter against him, as though he could hold the world’s pain at bay if he just held you close enough.

A hand tapped at his shoulder, and he flinched, turning to see his father.

“The Batmobile is just by the docks. We can—”

“They're in shock,” Damian scowled. the fire back in his eyes. “Do you honestly believe they're in any state to be moved at this moment?”

Bruce’s gaze was firm. “Damian, we don’t have time to—”

“They need to be stabilized first,” Damian cut in sharply, his tone brooking no argument. He turned abruptly, striding towards the exit. “If you want them to survive this, we need to take care of them properly, not rush them into a car. I shall be outside.”

Without waiting for a response, Damian moved swiftly, the clatter of his boots echoing as he stepped into the cool night air with you. Once the warehouse door closed behind him, he turned his full attention back to you, his hand gently brushing your tear-streaked face.

He moved to press his forehead gently against yours, the warmth of his skin meeting yours in a tender connection. He could offer no verbal comfort anymore; words seemed woefully inadequate. Your cries gradually subsided as you drew comfort from his presence.

Love.

He lifted his hand to the side of his face, pressing a button. As his mask retracted, his eyes met yours. Damian knew that more than anything else, you loved his eyes.

Time and again, you found yourself drawn to them, unable to tear your gaze away. They were hypnotic—an exquisite blend of emerald green, green as vibrant as the leather cover of his sketchbook, flecked with gold and streaked with brown paint.

His eyes were windows to his soul, offering the only genuine glimpse into the depths of his emotions. In them, you could see his anger burning like a stormy sea, joy dancing like sunlight on rippling water, embarrassment flitting like a shadow, and pain etched as deep as his scars.

At times, his eyes grew gentle, revealing something much softer—something that made your heart swell and your knees feel weak. A love so pure and unexpected that it could melt the coldest of hearts.

Damian Wayne was the farthest thing from soft.

But in these soft, fragile moments he shared with you, where his heart beat in sync with yours, Damian found an unexpected calm. It was in these rare interludes, away from the brutality and darkness that defined his world, that he could truly be himself.

Here, he was not a weapon but a person—capable of loving and being loved.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ♱

ao3: yenwayne

NOTE: I want to delve into the line I wrote: 'Damian is still his mother’s son.'

It's just to show his trauma, I despise Talia with all my guts.

Talia's control over Damian is a textbook example of manipulative conditioning at its most extreme. In psychological development, early experiences and parental influence are crucial in shaping one's self-concept. From his earliest days, Damian was deprived of a normal childhood. His personality, thoughts, and desires have all been sculpted by the League of Assassins from day one.

His anger, protectiveness, and sense of duty are manifestations of this—a child raised to be a killer, now struggling with the fragments of a humanity that was never fully allowed to blossom.

I'm not saying he hasn't changed!!! He has turned into so much more than the weapon they intended him to be. He is genuinely good. But the impact of such deep-seated trauma cannot be easily overlooked or resolved. It’s not something that can simply be swept under the rug or fixed overnight.

So, this was my attempt at capturing his character! I’m very open to constructive criticism since I’m new to the fandom. Please be kind and gentle with your feedback :)

#requests are welcome!#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #batfamily #dc robin #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne imagine #kinda lackluster TT #bruce wayne #batman

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illbegottenfaith · 6 months ago

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in sweetness (inspired by robin by t. swift)

visiting theo's childhood home grants you a deeper understanding of his inner workings (theo nott x reader)

a/n - I haven't genuinely loved a piece of writing like I do this one in a loooong time, I'm aware of how it strays away from the conventional flow/storyline of fanfic but I feel like that's what makes this so special! this is kind of the backstory of Theo I have in my head for pretty much any fic I write, regardless of the tropes/au's involved.

tropes/warnings - love?? hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, friends to lovers

word count - 2.7k

In their third year, Theodore Nott broke the nose of his then-teammate Mattheo Riddle. The fight had broken out on the Quidditch pitch after a practice; over what, no one could remember, least of all the boys themselves. Mattheo had said something undoubtedly incendiary in that arrogant, goading voice of his, and Theo had lunged at him, knocking the pair down. The brawl had come to a surprisingly quick end once he had decked the stockier boy in the face.

Years on, most people put it down to a culmination of red-hot emotions and pubescent testosterone. But it was more than that. Even then, you found the incident more telling than most others. Friend or foe, Theodore Nott never hesitated to exact justice by his own means, as he saw fit.

Perhaps it was his only means of control in a world that had treated him unforgivingly all his life.

You put down the photo of a bloody-nosed Mattheo sitting next to a busted-lipped Theo in the Hospital Wing, a photo taken to commemorate, as Blaise Zabini cheerfully put it, 'Baby's first fistfight.' You are standing in Theo's bedroom in his childhood home while waiting for him to return. You wanted to surprise him, but as his aunt had told you, he had popped out to drop by some old friends in the area. Still, she said that he would be returning soon and that you were welcome to wait in his room.

Looking around at every little photo, artifact, and piece of evidence of the years gone by feels like you are watching him grow up in front of your very eyes. And just like his life, something about the room feels disjointed and unharmonious. Other than a few obligatory photos or trinkets, most of the room appears sparsely decorated. The air feels heavy, as if it carries an unbearable silence even when he is home for the holidays.

There are posters of some vaguely familiar professional Quidditch players decorating one wall. Looking at the years printed in the corner, you glean that they must have been from before you met Theo. Although a layer of dust now sits on the untouched but otherwise pristine posters, it's clear that they were once highly beloved by their owner.

You see something similar in the rest of the room - different phases of his life cluttered different corners of his room. It was as though the room itself never changed; rather, he learned to grow in whatever space was left. You tilted your head up. There, hanging from the ceiling above his bed, appears to be a slightly misshapen, dusty baby mobile made of flimsy, plasticky dragonflies. It looks handmade. It sticks out like a sore thumb in what is otherwise a tidy room.

You wander over to the window on the other side of the room. You pick up another picture frame, this one containing a photograph of a toddler Theodore at the very windowsill you were standing in front of, taken from the garden just outside his window.

Back then, with a face that small, his dark curls seemed to overwhelm his tiny stature. He was laughing with a twinkle in his eye which he seemed to have lost over the years, unabashed with a face overflowing with love for whoever was behind the camera. You peer through the crooked window and imagine him scrambling up, not yet three feet tall, towards the photo-taker who humoured his nonsensical babbling with the forgiving kind of maternal patience. What had she looked like? Did she have his hair? His nose? His dry wit? His temper? His unexpected, if endearing, touchy side? It was a fragmented sort of picture in your head, but it was better than nothing.

You look back at the photo and your heart twinges with regret. Theo didn't talk about it much, but you knew he had lost her when he was very young - far too young. This had to be one of the last few moments when he was blissfully unaware of the horrors that waited for him in the real world. And even after that, how could he have anticipated just how much worse things could get? You bite your lip. No, you decide, he had no idea.

After the Quidditch pitch incident, unlike his newest best mate, Theo's penchant for violence was short-lived. Yet his ruthless efficiency remained almost cutthroat - whatever Theo wanted, he got, everyone else be damned. In fact, he hadn't really understood what it felt like to care for someone else until he met you.

With your round, trusting eyes and irrationally lovable affectations, you had somehow wormed your way into his otherwise cold, distant heart, and there you stayed. Your friends hadn't held back on the teasing, especially in the early days, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when an electric kind of thrill would run through you as he'd duck his head oh so slightly to better hear whatever spiel you had chosen to grace him with between lessons that day over the din of the moving staircases and their unfortunate victims. The electric thrill of having a friend, of course.

But that didn't stop you from noticing how his past seemed to hold him back, as much as he liked to pretend otherwise. With his father's less-than-exemplary background, you saw him struggle to not follow him down that same path. After all, how did one break free of the only world they've ever known? Sometimes you could feel his frustration, as if he felt stuck or stagnant. While everyone else busied themselves with orchestrating life plans as graduation grew nearer, Theo seemed woefully encumbered by the one thing he could never rid himself of, shackled by the chains of his lineage.

You had picked up on this the time he had come down with a bout of the flu. "Maybe I should take your temperature again," you had said, anxiously looking at his wan face as his skin burned the back of your hand.

"I'm fine, really," he had repeated, as he dragged your hand down to his chest, eyes lidded. "I'll sleep it off."

You had pressed your lips into a thin line, highly conflicted over how much you wanted to argue with a clearly sick patient. Your other hand had drifted to his scalp as you had distractedly started raking your fingers through his hair. Theo's lips had parted as he sighed in relief, melting further into his pillow.

"Just...just stay. For a while." His eyes had been fully closed by then. "I get the worst dreams when I'm sick."

You had run your thumb along your clasped hands. "What do you dream about?"

Theo had paused. "Terrible things," he had said after a moment, in a pleasant, light voice, as if you were merely discussing the weather. "Terrible things that I can't change."

He had no idea.

The least you could do was let him feel free when he was with you. You knew just what to do to tug a smile onto his face, no matter how reluctant, on the greyest of days. It helped that it didn't take much for you to amuse him. It wasn't always easy, keeping spirits high enough for the both of you, but you managed. Anything to make his life a little brighter, a little sweeter.

And so the time he spent with you only served to further mellow him out, soften his sharp, unrelenting edges. His bloodlust moulded itself into something kinder, something that didn't itch for retribution for every wrong-doing or misdeed. A compassion that presented itself in the oddest of ways - like the time you had found Theo entertaining one of the toddlers from the annual gift donation drive in the Slytherin common room over the holidays. Your eyes had nearly fallen out of your head when you had seen him sitting cross-legged on the floor, highly engrossed with a bunch of plastic dinosaurs.

You had shot Mattheo a mystified look as you walked by, and he had shrugged from his place on one of the armchairs. But you had noticed how the crossword he had allegedly been pouring over had gone slack in his hand. Clearly, he had been just as intrigued as you were.

"I thought you never liked playing with toys," you had started, fixing a lock of hair falling into Theo's eyes as he looked up at you. He had looked so earnest as he put the toys down that you had had to fight the urge to laugh - not at him, but at how disconcertingly happy he looked. Why, Theo would have mocked anyone who looked half as delighted any other day of the week.

You had let your thumb run along his cheekbone. Perhaps it was an unintentional reclamation of the childhood he had been robbed of.

"I didn't. But maybe I just needed more time." He had glanced back at the child crudely now scribbling in his sketchbook and winced. "Erm, fourteen years more time."

You had nodded, trying to be more discreet about your staring at the smear of dirt you had just noticed on the side of his face. He had no idea. Over Theo's shoulder, you had frowned questioningly at Mattheo. Sand pit, he had mouthed back at you.

"You always were slow on the uptake," you had murmured. Something must have shown in yours or Mattheo's expression because he had started glancing between the two of you, gingerly touching his face.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

"No," the both of you chorused.

"I don't see anything on your face. Mattheo, do you see anything on Theo's face?"

"Not a speck," Mattheo had agreed, nonchalantly returning to his crossword. You had tapped Theo's face, making him flinch.

"You need to stop being so obsessed with your looks. Vanity doesn't become you."

And before he could catch on - as he was dangerously close to, if that suspicious frown of his was any indication - you excused yourself to put your coat away. Neither of you had wanted to snap Theo out of whatever weird trance he was in. A moment like that deserved to be preserved.

Standing in Theo's room, you suddenly felt claustrophobic, overwhelmed by memories you hadn't given a second thought in years. There was so much tragedy written in every crack in the wall. How did Theo bear it? Did he simply not see it?

You walked out of the room and explained to Theo's aunt that you were just heading out for a bit of fresh air. If she noticed how upset you looked, she didn't comment on it. Once you left, you started walking very quickly very blindly, anything to put as much distance between yourself and that house of horrors.

Eventually, you walked until there was nowhere else to walk, ending up at an old, slightly grimy playground. You sat on one of the swings, replaying those scenes you couldn't seem to move on from. The pallor on Theo's face as he shivered from that fever. The blood-soaked rag he had held to his mouth to stem the flow of blood. The grit that had decorated the side of his beautiful face. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear the leaves crunching under the footsteps that approached you.

"Oh, my days," a familiar voice crowed from behind you, "is that Y/N L/N I see before me?"

You froze. He must have spotted you on his way back. You couldn't bring yourself to turn around to face him just yet.

"You're in my spot, you know," Theo continued smoothly. "That's the best spot on the swing set right there."

Reluctantly, you glanced behind to see Theo standing behind you, wearing a thick denim jacket, his teasing expression slightly shadowed by his stupid hair that was always falling into his stupid face, and all you can think is, he has no idea.

As soon as you turned, his face softened into something more concerned.

"Are you...crying?"

You brushed a hand against your cheek and realised he was right. You sniffed, turning away from him. Theo moved to kneel in front of you almost immediately, gently clasping your elbows when you refused to meet his gaze.

"Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you? Who hurt you?"

You shook your head. "No one hurt me."

Theo stared at you unrelentingly. There it was, the bloodlust. "What happened, cara mia?"

"Nothing," you said unconvincingly. "I was waiting for you at your house but I wanted a bit of fresh air."

"Was it my aunt? Did she say something? Honestly, the things she says about my hair -"

You laughed through your tears abruptly, and you could see Theo relax fractionally at your smile. You bit your lip hard enough to almost draw blood. Anything to stop the crying.

"No," you were saying, "your aunt was very sweet. She let me wait in your room."

"Okay."

"And there were -"

"- magazines?"

You frowned at Theo, who looked unreasonably panicked. "You have magazines in your room?"

He hesitated for a moment, before delicately clearing his throat. "No, of course not. So what did you see?"

"Pictures. From years ago."

"Oh, yeah. What about them?"

You stared back at him, fidgeting restlessly. How could you explain why you were suddenly so upset when you didn't fully understand it yourself? The pictures in his room were nothing revelatory - in fact, wasn't that why it was so heartbreaking? You knew what his life had been like, and you knew how it had shaped him. But maybe something about seeing unflinching proof of it firsthand made it all the more unbearable.

And then you started bawling again.

"I just -" you choked out, "you had such an awful time as a kid- no mother, a good-as-dead father -"

Theo had this strange look on his face like he was desperately trying not to laugh.

"Y/N," he was saying gently, "they're just pictures. And all that was such a long time ago. I'm fine." He grinned. "Really."

You glared at him. You had half a mind to shove him away.

"Well, I'm not fine. How do you expect me to turn a blind eye to your hellish childhood? When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours that I care for you and I love you and it hurts to think about all those years you spent unloved?"

That sobered the both of you fairly quickly. After all that, Theo had the audacity to blink at you like some half-wit goldfish.

"...what?"

You pressed on impatiently. "You have to understand," you muttered through gritted teeth, "I cannot help but wish you didn't have to deal with - with any of this. Year after year, I see you trying so hard, trying your best even with all the odds stacked against y- and you're amused. Honestly, you're impossible. I'm baring my heart, sobbing my fucking lungs out, and you look like you want to laugh."

"It's just..." Theo shook his head as he trailed off, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "I haven't thought about any of that in a while."

His eyes crinkled, and suddenly the runt of a boy from the picture and the long-legged nineteen-year-old in front of you were one and the same.

"I don't feel unloved." He dragged his thumb down the vein in the crook of your elbow, all while looking at you like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. "Not anymore."

Your hand crept up until they were holding his face. He stiffened slightly, not like he wanted to pull away, but like he didn't know what to expect. You leaned forward, brushing his nose against yours, feeling his warm breath tickle your face. He wasn't pushing you away. If anything, his grip on your elbow turned more vice-like as his eyes fluttered close.

Maybe you misread his signals. Maybe he'd hate you for this afterwards. But you couldn't bring yourself to care at the moment.

A sweet memory to balance out all the bitter ones his home held.

#theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fluff

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mystic-writings · 1 year ago

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closing time | robin buckley

PAIRING — robin buckley x fem!reader

SUMMARY — robin has a crush on you. what happens when you're locked in keith's office after the store closes?

WARNINGS — fluff, banter, love confessions, mentions of panic/anxiety & season three

WORD COUNT — 2,353

NOTES — something short and sweet for my beloved robin!! i hope y'all enjoy and don't forget to leave feedback please! also, this was very loosely inspired by sparks fly by taylor swift

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Robin Buckley was utterly, helplessly, in love.

There was no denying it anymore; Robin was completely in love with you. She would light up every time you walked into class; her heart stopped every time you smiled at her, and spluttered back to life when you’d say her name. Her mind ran away from her every time you shared a shift at the video store, full of daydreams of what you and her would even do if you dated, only to be shut down by the brutal fear of rejection.

But you didn’t know that.

As far as Robin Buckley was aware, you only thought of her as your anxious, rambling friend who, more often than not, spent her shifts making fun of your co-worker Steve and his almost inexplicable lack of game.

Most of the time that she was around you, Robin was forced to ‘act normal’, as if she’d ever done that before. It usually resulted in useless rambles about something weird she’d read about, like gingivitis or how most of the backdrop scenes from Star Wars were actually just still paintings. But you usually seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and that took some of the uncomfortable anxiety away. And sometimes, you’d even laugh. A genuine one, too, and it would make Robin’s day.

Tonight was a lot like that. It was Friday, and the typical customer buzz around the store was enough to keep you, Robin, and Steve occupied for a while. But by 9pm, the clientele died out, and the three of you were behind the counter playing a round of Crazy 8s.

“Hah!” Robin said, slamming her palm to the pile of cards. She pulled it back to reveal an 8 of clubs, a proud smile on her face. “Suck it, Steve! Last card,” she huffed, leaning on the counter as you and Steve stared expectantly at her. “Oh, right. And it’s hearts now.”

Steve huffed, glancing at his cards before taking one from the pick-up pile. “Dick move, Buckley.”

“Dick face, Harrington.”

“What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at yours before placing a 3 on the pile.

Robin just shrugged, her lips forming a smirk as she placed her final card down. “I win!”

“Alright, I’m out,” Steve huffed, tossing his cards on the pile. You couldn’t help the overwhelming amount of clubs he had, causing you to stifle a giggle. “See you losers tomorrow.”

“Good luck with that, Steve, ‘cause I won’t be here.” You mentioned, scooping the cards into your hands. “Mom’s taking me to Indianapolis for some family thing. Had to cancel my morning shift, which means…”

Steve, who had been retrieving his jacket and car keys from under the counter, turned back with what you could only describe as a look of horror painted on his face. “No,”

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’.

“No! You can’t do this to me, Y/n!”

“I already did, Steve.” You began shuffling the cards.

“But Keith always smells like eggs in the mornings! And he hates me,” Steve whined. “I can’t believe you.”

“Sorry,” you shrugged half-heartedly. “Can’t un-cancel my shift now, Keith’ll be pissed if I call him this late.”

Robin scoffed, arms folded across her chest as she watched you shuffle the cards intently. “No, he won’t. He’s practically in love with you.”

You shuddered at the thought. “Ew, gross. Please never say those words to me again, Robin. I beg of you. I think I’ll die, or… contract something if I think about it for more than 30 seconds.”

“Okay, okay, I’ve gotta get outta here,” Steve said, spinning his keys on his finger. “See you weirdos later.”

You and Robin shouted farewells as he exited the store, the bell ringing, signifying his departure. Glancing up at Robin from your focus on the deck of cards, you asked, “Another round?”

The girl nodded, a shaky exhale leaving her lips. You were closing together, and while it wasn’t uncommon, time alone with you was something Robin treasured. And the way you looked up at her through your eyelashes… Robin was going to be combating the butterflies in her stomach all night, it seemed.

The next hour seemed to fly by with no issues.

No customers came by after Steve left, so you and Robin played cards and watched a movie on the big TV hanging from the ceiling until your watch beeped, signalling 10pm — closing time.

The pair of you worked in tandem, one of you counting the cash and working out what the deposit would be while the other made sure that everything looked nice and that the return carts were empty — of course they were, Steve had done them long before he left.

Disaster struck when you went into Keith’s office to finish closing for the night.

The analog clock on Keith’s desk read 10:18pm when you passed it, Robin just behind you. All that was left was to write up the deposit in an email and send it to the regional inbox. It was a delicate procedure, to say the least, but with Robin reading everything out to you as you typed it up made things a lot easier.

“You got that?” Robin asked, hopping off the desk beside you.

You glanced at her, fingers typing away. “Yeah, Robin, I think I can remember how many five dollar bills were put in the deposit envelope.”

Robin snorted beside you, the already-open safe door creaking as she pulled it. Slipping the envelope inside, along with the deposit slip, she shut the door with a loud clang, causing you to flinch slightly.

“And…” you pressed a few final buttons on the keyboard, the computer trilling as the email finished sending. “We’re off! Let’s shut this place down and get the hell out of here.”

“As if I’d actually want to stay,” Robin grimaced as you powered down the computer. “This place smells like…” Robin sniffed the air, her face scrunching further. “Cheetos and B.O.”

You giggled, pushing the chair into the desk. “Gross,”

Robin made her way to the office door, a giddy smile on her face. “What? I’m right! It’s like Keith doesn’t know what air freshener is. Or a shower.”

She pulled on the door, her smile falling as she twisted the knob.

“What? Robin, what is it?”

“I— I don’t know,” Robin twisted the doorknob again, pulling the door toward her, to no avail. She twisted again, frantically, panic setting into her gut. “I think it’s locked!”

“No,” you nearly gasped. “It can’t be locked!”

“Okay, well, I’m turning the doorknob and it’s not moving, so…!” Robin said, voice shaking as she turned to look back at you.

“Let me try, Robin. Maybe it’s just stuck.” You suggested. Robin relented, stepping to the side as you grasped the cool metal. You twisted and pulled, your movements growing frustrated and frantic as you realised that the door wasn’t stuck — you were, in fact, locked in. “Damn it!” You exclaimed, kicking the door. “I can’t believe this,”

Robin’s hands flew to her hair, grasping at her scalp as she tried to calm herself down. She watched you begin to pace, chewing on your thumbnail, thinking of something, anything you could do to get yourselves out of this office.

You were suddenly beginning to feel cramped, like the walls were closing in on you. But you took a breath, eyes scanning the room, landing on the phone conveniently placed on Keith’s desk. “Ha!”

Robin watched you rush to the other side of the desk, picking up the receiver and beginning to dial a number. “Are you calling the police?”

“The police?” You scrunched up your nose, holding the receiver to your ear. “No, that’s stupid. I’m calling Steve.”

“Calling the police when we’re locked in a room with no way out is stupid?” Robin scoffed, taking up your previous state of pacing.

The phone rang in your ear as you sat down on the chair. “Of course it is, Robin. Steve has a set of keys, and there’s pretty much a guarantee that no one’s going to answer a Friday night call. They’re all out busting parties and pulling over drunk drivers. They’re gonna put us on the back burner. But Steve won’t. Besides, he’s not doing anything tonight, his date cancelled on him this morning.”

Robin barely acknowledged your words, mind running wild with the thoughts running through her head. Steve would help, of course he would. Ever since Starcourt, he knew how much Robin hated being stuck somewhere with no way to get out. She just hoped he’d get here quickly. Being stuck in a room with no real way out was one thing, but being stuck in a room with the girl you’re practically in love with was something entirely different.

“Steve!” You practically shouted with joy.

“Jesus,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down, please! What’s up?”

You huffed, leaning back in Keith’s chair. “Look, Robin and I locked ourselves in the office, somehow, and we need you to come by with your keys and let us out.” Steve sighed on the other line. “Pretty please? I’ll buy you Burger King on Sunday.”

“Fine. But I’m taking my sweet time getting there. I’m on the other side of town, if you even care to know.”

“I know where you live, Steve.” You rolled your eyes. “Just hurry up. I think Robin’s losing her mind in here.”

“When is she not losing her mind?”

“Steve,” you warned, sighing a farewell as he hung up on you. “Okay, he’ll be here soon. I think.”

“God,” Robin groaned, palms pressed to her forehead. “My mom’s gonna kill me. My cousins are coming into town for the week and I’m supposed to clean tomorrow and instead I’m stuck here, in a room that smells like death, where I’ll probably actually die! Of, like, dehydration or starvation or something meanwhile my cousin Evan is happily sitting on my mom’s couch eating cookies or something!”

“Starvation?” You asked yourself as you stood from the chair. “Robin, it’ll be fine. Steve’s on his way,”

The girl barely acknowledged you, still pacing, arms flying around as she spoke. “And, by the way, starvation? A really painful way to die! It hurts, Y/n, a lot. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve read, but who am I to judge! I mean, I’ve never starved to death before! Not until now, at least!”

You sighed, stepping in Robin’s path, making sure to grab her shoulders firmly, eyes locked onto hers. “Robin,” you said, eyebrows raised as the girl fell silent. “Steve should be here anytime soon. We won’t starve to death. All we have to do is wait out the half an hour before he gets here, max. We’ll be fine.”

Robin’s eyebrows cinched before she shook her head. “But what if something bad happens, Y/n? Then what are we gonna do? We’ll die! And I can’t die! I haven’t seen Evan since I was 9! He lives in Pennsylvania! Hershey, Pennsylvania! Do you have any idea how far that is?”

“It’s, like, an 8 hour drive, Robin,” you said, voice quiet. Your eyes stayed locked on hers, watching the anxiety swim through her green irises. It was like you could see the gears turning, clicking and grinding to form more anxious thoughts for her to spew out in a breathless panic.

“Not to mention the smell in here! It’s horrible! I mean, seriously, could Keith not afford a fan, or-or some sort of air freshener! And the windows! They’re so small, and they barely open, and—”

Robin’s words ceased when you pulled her forward, crashing your lips onto hers. Her muscles tensed for a moment, eyes wide, until she realised you were kissing her. You were kissing her. Robin barely had the time to kiss you back, to place her hands gingerly on your waist before you were pulling back, sucking in air.

“What was that for?” Robin asked, voice squeaking.

You only smiled. “I really needed you to stop talking.” You joked, a hesitant hand reaching up to brush some of Robin’s hair from her face. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that for, like, 6 months.”

“Oh,” Robin said, nodding briefly before she smiled, cheeks burning red. “Can you do it again?”

You smiled wide, nodding ecstatically before placing your hands on Robin’s neck, pulling her closer so that you could kiss her again.

It was slower this time, a test of the waters as you both melted into one another’s touch. A delicate kiss, one that said a lot more than either of you could find the words for. Robin’s fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, her mind barely comprehending what was happening right now.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away at that moment, so much so that neither of you paid attention to the soundscape around you, failing to hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock — the door to the office squealing as it opened, and the subsequent screams of Steve Harrington.

“What the hell, guys!” Steve screamed, covering his eyes as you and Robin jumped away from one another, lips swollen and cheeks burning. “I leave you by yourselves for an hour and a half and you’ve got your tongues down each other’s throats!”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, sheepish as you took Robin’s hand, leading her past his gobsmacked form.

“You owe me a hell of a lot more than just Burger King for making me see that.”

“Sure thing!” You called out as you and Robin slung your bags over your shoulders.

“Thank you, dingus!” Robin shouted over her shoulder, smiling wide at Steve, following you out of the store.

You huffed a laugh and smiled at Robin, swinging your hands as you grabbed your keys from your pocket. “Want a ride home?”

“Sure,” Robin smiled, relishing the feeling of your hand in hers. She made sure to keep it there during the entire drive to her house, and as often as she could after that, too.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

robin buckley taglist: @sunshine-daisies-library (open!)

taglist form here!

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader

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igotanidea · 1 year ago

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The five year old syndrome: Damian Wayne x reader.

Summary/request: f!reader having separation anxiety due to Damian's vigilante lifestyle. And him calming her down and trying to make up for the time lost, when he was gone patrolling.

***

It was normal behaviour.

Her boyfriend was a vigilante, fighting villains every night, more often than not putting himself in harm’s way and ending up hurt (not that he ever wanted to admit it).

So it was pretty obvious that she was worried, right?

The fact that she kept on asking him in which area he was patrolling on respective night or where was he going and at what time he was planning to come back was simply a sign of her love and concern for him

Right?

Right????

And even when Damian, being Damian, tried to brush off her concerns, avoiding straightforward answers due to the safety precautions, she was pushing and pushing trying to get as little as a scrap of information from him.

Making him a little concerned and heavily annoyed.

But holding back his irritation for her sake.

“Really Y/N, there’s no need to panic like that.” He muttered, when seconds before his departure on nightly watch she dived into his arms holding him as tight as she could. “I am not a beginner in the area.” His hands were hanging by his side, a little awkwardly for a longer moment before he finally figured it would be better to hug her back in some form of comfort. “In fact, I believe I’m the best fighter in the entire family and –”

“Just please come back to me safe, ok?” she whispered against his chest, hiding face in the material of his jacket. He insisted on never leaving their shared apartment in Robin suit, and she was using that opportunity to inhale his smell that has nothing to do with his persona. “Promise me that.” Her voice turned almost begging, her grip on him tightening in desperation to keep him with her.

“Y/N. My beloved.” Damian gently unclenched her fists from his clothes “I’ll always come back to you. As before. But you really have to let me go now.”

“But –” she squeezed his hands instead, this time almost painfully as he was not expecting it

“Tsk. No buts, beloved. I will be back. And then maybe we can talk about why you suddenly became so alerted about me leaving?”

“Yeah—I mean okay…” the sigh that escaped her lips was an expression of surrender. Not willingly, but she knew there was no use arguing with Damian and his rationality.

After all, she was the overreacting one, becoming needy and putting his patience to the test. And about a situation that has happened dozens of times before.

But in her own head it was just because she was so in love with him and that was how lovers acted.

***

It was not normal behaviour.

In the short span of two weeks, her concerns and need for information about Damian’s whereabouts when he was patrolling evolved into something way more serious.

It was like every time he was about to leave, not even raising from the couch yet, she was starting to sob uncontrollably, shaking and getting into a panic attack.

“Don’t go—”

“Y/N--”

“Please! Please, don’t go tonight.”

“I have to-“ as much as he was bothered with her emotional display, there was also a tiny glimpse of guilt for putting his duties above his love.

“Damian!” she started crying like a five year old, tears running down her cheeks like a waterfall.

Too bad he was already half into a Robin mode.

“Y/N, stop crying.” The voice he used was probably a little too stern, given the fact that he was dealing with his distressed girlfriend and not a criminal.

“I’m sorry-“ she angrily wiped the tears, holding them back with the whole willpower she possessed.

“Look at me, love. Nothing wrong will happen, okay? I’m skilled and swift and capable and-“

“Humble.” She chuckled, slowly letting his words get to her and suppress the fear and anxiety.

“No. Not humble at all. I have every right to brag and I will do it. And when there’s a woman listening to it, it only gets better.” He smirked

“You’re impossible.”

“Made you calm down though.” Damian shrugged casually “But jokes aside, I promise I will be back in one piece. And the blood on the suit will not belong to me-“

“DAMIAN!”

That was not helpful at all.

***

It might have been anxiety. Or fear. Or million other reasons for why it was irregular, though neither of them were psychologists to figure it out.

And clearly, talking did not help at all.

In case of any other person, it would probably rub off on one’s behaviour but Damian Wayne was known to keep his feelings inside, showing the casual and indifferent side to the world.

Good thing there were some certain people that in time learnt to read right through him. And those certain people had no respect for time or place to bring out heavy topics, starting them out of nowhere while perched on the rooftop, observing a group of masked robbers, waiting to strike”

“So, what’s been up with you lately?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about Grayson. We shall focus on the object and not chit-chat about our problems.”

“Which you just admit you have.” Dick grinned playfully, daring to ruffle his younger brother's hair, earning an angry huff in response.

“I never said that.”

“Come on, Robin. I can read all over your face.” Dick continued steadfastly, not bothered by the fact that Damian finally turned his head to look at him.

“I am literally wearing a mask covering half of my face. It’s rather hard to read through it.”

“Is it about Y/N?”

Just the use of her name made Damian shake a little. Normal civilians would probably never notice that, but being raised in a vigilante family had its disadvantages. One of them being everyone being overly perceptive.

“You are not bringing her now. No one shall know her name, let alone anything else.”

“Okay, okay, understood” Dick raised his hands in surrender “let’s give her an alias. How about a sparrow?”

“You lost your mind, Nightwing.”

“Long time ago. Now that we settled that, why don’t you confide your problems with me?”

Damian sighed in annoyance. There were only two ways this could go.

1. He would refuse to answer and Dick would be up his ass the entire night, trying to gather information.

2. He will provide information on his own terms and maybe won’t have to deal with Dick’s stubbornness, hidden behind chattiness.

Option two seemed like a better choice, so clenching jaw and fists Damian uttered something about sparrow being overly sensitive about him leaving on patrol.

And that was how young Wayne learnt about separation anxiety.

But if Dick expected gratitude for unveiling the mystery of Y/N’s sensitivity and weepiness he got heavily disappointed as Damian only seemed infuriated even more.

He wished he didn’t know, cause then he could pretend nothing was happening.

***

But he could not pretend and it was not because of Dick’s revelation.

It was because knowing the trouble she was going through was breaking his heart, regardless of the medically correct term for the disorder.

It was 5 am when he came back.

And she wasn’t in bed.

And not in the living room.

And not in the bathroom.

“Y/n?!”

“I’m here.”

“What are you doing in the kitchen, beloved? You are supposed to—” the other half of the sentence died on his lips as he took in the surroundings. “Y/n…?”

Her hair was a mess, eyes reddened and wet, nose swollen from the obvious crying.

“Oh Y/N…” he took a few steps forward before she lunged to stop him. “OUCH! The hell--?!” Damian was definitely not expecting to end up with a shrapnel in his bare feet.

“I – I had to put my mind into something and – and- I was cleaning but—”

“It’s okay-“ he hissed, pulling out the glass.

“I broke my favourite mug and I –“

“You don’t need to explain it to me.”

“I took it a sign that something might have happened to you and –“

“Y/N.”

“- and it made me freak out even more and –“

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry!” she squealed, dropping down the packet of band aids and bandages she managed to gather in a poor attempt to help him.’

“I don’t care about the bleeding!” he grabbed the supplies and put them on the nearby table, instead reaching out his hands to her. A display of affection that only happened in the most vulnerable situations.

Just like now.

“I don’t know what’s happening.” She sobbed, diving into his warmth “I’ve never been this giddy. I’ve never freaked out like that before. And now it’s just seems like my mind is working against me—”

“Sh. It’s okay-“ the gentle caresses on her back were supposed to help her calm down “I’m here. I’m here with you. And I didn’t even make anyone bleed tonight. Todd though-“

“Am I going crazy?” she cut him off, looking up into his eyes with the most vulnerable gaze ever, tugging at his heartstrings.

“No. No love, you are not going crazy.”

“Then what—?”

“I believe you have separation anxiety.”

“Sep- what? The thing when kids start crying because their parents dropped them off at school?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m an adult!”

“Yes.”

“So how can it possibly—?”

“Hush.” Damian kissed her forehead, pulling her closer “do not worry about it now. We’ll figure it out at the right time.”

“But-“

“I need you to trust me on that. Can you?” his piercing green eyes focused on hers, almost staring right into her shattered soul. “Can you?” he repeated.

“Yes….”

“Good. Now, let me just help you ease up. We’ve got some time to make up for. And I intend to make every minute count.”

“Damian…?”

“Hush. No words now, beloved. Appreciate the cuddles and soft time with me while you can.” He muttered, leading her to the couch, settling down on it, refusing to let her speak for the rest of the night, silencing her every time she dared to make even one word.

If anything, with the fact he took her problem so seriously, she was going to develop unification anxiety.

#damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian wayne x you #robin x you #damian wayne fluff #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne fanfiction #batman

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differentpostrebel · 10 months ago

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Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

These guys stay bickering lmfaoooo

A/N: We are back at it again with a Chapter 3!!! Yall writing this was so much fun, and you guys will find out why (wink, Wink). Our beloved Sanji really needs to confess his feelings to Y/N. Now chapter 4 is currently being written and will be posted tonight! That Chapter is going to be filled with angst! Like always the stories will be linked as well. So without further ado, here's Chapter 3.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (Here),

Word Count: 5.3K

Sanji X Reader, OP x Reader,

Chapter 3: A Captain’s Resolve

Luffy comes rushing down the steps, eyes wide with concern. “Y/N, are you alright?” he asks, his voice laced with worry. “Sorry guys… I might’ve complicated things by punching that Celestial Dragon.”

You smirk, trying to shake off the pain. “I’m fine, Luffy. Don’t worry about me.”

Pappag waddles over, his little eyes wide in disbelief. “I can’t believe you took a bullet for Hatchi!”

Hatchi, who is now by your side, looks down, his expression filled with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. This is all my fault.”

You wave him off, trying to ease the tension. “It’s fine, Hatchi. We’ve got bigger problems to deal with. We need to figure out how to help Camie.”

Just then, Luffy’s gaze sharpens as he notices movement in the far corner. Guards are coming from all directions, ready to attack.

“We’ve got company,” Luffy warns, his voice turning serious.

One of the guards sneers, “What kind of idiot would risk their life to save a damn fish... and a girl?”

Luffy’s eyes narrow as he notices guards in the far corner, swarming in from all directions. Without hesitation, he springs into action. “Gum-Gum Whip!” he shouts, his leg stretching out and sweeping through the crowd of workers, sending them flying.

Zoro, with a smirk, unsheathes his swords. “Looks like I’m getting in on this too,” he says, slashing through the attackers with swift, precise movements.

You try to get up, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Damn it, if only I had my weapons…” you mutter, scanning the chaos around you.

Sanji notices your struggle and springs into action, kicking away anyone who dares come near you or Hatchi. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered,” he assures you, his eyes sharp and focused.

Nami, meanwhile, is sprinting down the stairs when she suddenly trips. But instead of panicking, she seizes the moment. “Thunder Tempo!” she shouts, releasing a burst of lightning that strikes the oncoming enemies, electrifying them.

“Nice shot, Nami!” you call out, impressed.

As the chaos unfolds, Saint Roswald, watching from a distance, begins to shake with anger, his eyes fixed on Charlos, who was left beaten and humiliated. Saint Shalria screams at the remaining guards, “Do something! Kill those pirates!”

As the chaos unfolds, Saint Roswald watches, his anger boiling over as he takes in the scene. “Why can’t you guys just accept your fate!” he roars, his face twisted in fury.

Luffy, still in the heat of battle, launches into another attack. “Gum-Gum Battle Axe!” he shouts, smashing through the guards with a powerful blow. He then turns, his gaze locking onto Saint Roswald. “Back down! My friends are not for sale,” Luffy declares, his voice full of resolve.

Saint Roswald recoils, taken aback by Luffy’s fierce determination. But before he can respond, Usopp, who had been above, suddenly falls from his perch and crashes directly onto Saint Roswald, knocking him out cold. “Oops… didn’t see that coming,” Usopp mutters, rubbing his head as he scrambles to his feet.

Luffy, turning around from the commotion, spots Usopp, Brook, and Robin making their way through the chaos. “Usopp, Brook, Robin! Glad you made it!” he exclaims with relief.

You look around and see the remaining members of the crew all together. Happiness fills you, knowing they’d all come through. Before you can shout out anything, a guard starts advancing toward you. “Get back here!” he growls, brandishing his weapon.

You quickly begin to slide backwards, narrowly evading each attack he throws at you. Using your good leg, you kick out and send him stumbling. “Come on, is that all you’ve got?” you taunt, trying to keep your footing and maintain distance.

Luffy, catching sight of the struggle, shouts over, “Usopp! Camie is still in the fish bowl, but we need to get rid of those collars first!”

Nami, glancing around nervously, adds, “We better hurry or the Navy might get here any second!”

At that moment, a voice with a chilling edge cuts through the noise. “It’s too late. They’re already here.”

Everyone freezes. Luffy, eyes narrowing, demands, “Who the hell are you, and what’s with the polar bear?”

Bepo, the bear, blushes slightly at the mention. You look up, your eyes widening. “No way… it’s…” you mutter in shock.

As the realization dawns, Robin finishes your thought with a calm certainty. “Trafalgar Law,” she says, her gaze steady. “Luffy, they’re pirates just like us.”

Luffy, glancing at the imposing figures around them, raises an eyebrow. “Even the bear?” he asks, pointing towards Bepo.

“Yeah,” Robin confirms. “The guy standing in the back is Eustass Captain Kidd.”

Brooke, always ready with a bit of trivia, chimes in. “You mean the one who has a higher bounty than Luffy?”

You mutter under your breath, your eyes widening in recognition. “So that’s Kidd?”

Trafalgar Law steps forward, his demeanor serious. “The Navy has had this place surrounded since before the auction even began,” he says, his gaze sweeping over the chaotic scene. “You’re not getting out of here easily.” He pauses, his expression softening just a fraction. “Not sure who they’re trying to capture, but I gotta say, I’m quite impressed. You put on a good show, Straw Hats.” The crew looks at each other with a look of worry.

Law's eyes then lock onto you, and his gaze feels almost palpable, sending a shiver down your spine. “Especially you, Y/N,” he says with a strange, unsettling intensity.

Before you can react, Law’s fingers move with precision. “Room,” he announces, and a blue orb envelops you.

Sanji’s voice cuts through the chaos. “What the hell?”

The orb expands and contracts, and with a quick “Shambles,” you find yourself teleported. You look around, disoriented, and see that Sanji is no longer next to you. Instead, Law stands before you, his gaze unyielding.

Sanji’s frustrated shout echoes in the distance. “You bastard! What did you do?”

Law ignores Sanji’s outburst, his focus entirely on you. You stand firm, meeting his gaze with a determined look. “What do you want from me?” you demand, trying to keep your voice steady.

As Law moves closer, he suddenly reaches out and places his hand lightly on your shoulder. The touch is unexpectedly gentle but electrifying, sending a rush of warmth through you. The proximity of his body and the intensity of his gaze make your heart race uncontrollably. It’s a calculated gesture, not just physical but also psychological, designed to unnerve you.

His fingers brush against your skin, and with a flick of his wrist, you feel a strange, tingling sensation that seems to emanate from the point of contact. This move is part of his Devil Fruit powers, creating a brief but intense link between you. The touch leaves you momentarily paralyzed, caught between confusion and a deep, unsettling awareness of his presence. His lips curl into a faint, enigmatic smile, adding to the effect.

Law continues to hold your gaze, you find yourself struggling to maintain composure, the blush on your cheeks betraying your internal turmoil. The combination of his touch, the intensity of his eyes, and his close proximity creates a powerful, disconcerting moment that leaves you shaken.

Brooke and Sanji, catching sight of what’s happening, prepare to intervene, their expressions tense and ready for action. But before they can act, you notice a figure approaching rapidly from the corner of your eye.

Without warning, you’re shoved into something hard, the impact leaving you dazed and momentarily stunned. You look up to see a shadowy figure standing over you, their features obscured. The suddenness of the collision leaves you reeling, struggling to regain your bearings as you try to assess the situation and find a way out. You begin to shake your head and, as you’re about to move away, hands grasp you firmly in place.

“You’re not going anywhere, doll,” the voice is laced with a menacing energy. Slowly, you turn around to see Eustass Captain Kidd, his eyes glinting with a predatory gaze.

Usopp, from across the chaos, yells out desperately, “Y/N! Snap out of it!”

You shake your head vigorously, trying to dispel the disorienting effects of Law’s earlier move. The power still lingers, making it hard to think clearly. "That’s some power," you mutter to yourself, trying to steady your nerves.

Kidd’s smirk widens as he holds you in place. “Struggling, are we? Not so easy to escape from me, doll.” He lowers his head, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, his tone laced with menace and seduction. As his tongue traces a teasing path along your earlobe, you moan involuntarily, a shiver running down your spine. Kidd smirks triumphantly as he continues to hold you firmly.

You grit your teeth, struggling to free yourself from his grip. As you do, you notice Shalria, holding a gun trained on Camie. “Oh no, Camie!” you shout, panic rising in your voice. Everyone turns to assess the dire situation.

Nami’s voice cuts through the chaos. “We’ll never make it in time!”

Just as Shalria cocks her gun, she is immediately stunned along with the other guards, their bodies collapsing to the ground. “It’s the same power as before,” you recognize, feeling a surge of hope.

Seizing the opportunity, you kick Eustass hard, breaking free from his grasp. As you make your way down the stairs, your heart pounds in your chest. A loud explosion echoes nearby, causing you to stumble. You open your eyes to see the same man who had helped you with the explosive collars and the giant walking out of the smoke.

The old man looks at you with a knowing smile. “My, what do we have here?” he says, his voice carrying a sense of calm authority.

Luffy, breathless but relieved, steps forward. “Who are you?”

The old man bows slightly. “I’m Rayleigh, and I’ve been eagerly waiting to meet you, Monkey D. Luffy.”

You step forward, your eyes locked on Rayleigh. His warm smile reassures you. “Good to see you reunited with your crew,” Rayleigh says, turning to you. “Now, let’s get your mermaid friend free.”

He turns to Camie, who looks nervous. “Trust me and don’t flinch. I’m going to remove your collar.”

Pappag and Hatchi shout in unison, “No, don’t! It’ll explode!”

Tension grips the crew as they look on in worry, but both you and Luffy trust Rayleigh’s expertise. With one swift movement, Rayleigh removes Camie’s collar. The expected explosion happens, but it’s controlled and nothing more than a flash.

Franky emerges from the chaos, waving a set of keys. “Hey! I got the keys! What the hell happened here?”

He tosses your weapons toward you with a smirk. “And Y/N, I found your blades too.”

You catch them and feel a wave of relief. “Thanks, Franky!” you exclaim, examining your weapons. Your joy turns to disappointment as you notice one sword is damaged beyond repair.

“These bastards must have been toying with them,” you mutter, assessing the damage. “No worries. Once we get to Fishman Island, I’ll get a new one made.” For now, you have one good sword and two small blades.

Rayleigh’s presence has left Law and Kidd stunned. Law, his eyes widening slightly, says, “Rayleigh? I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Kidd, equally shocked, mutters, “That old man... he’s the Dark King?”

Rayleigh chuckles softly. “Indeed. Now, let's focus on getting everyone out of here.”

Franky, with a decisive gesture, throws the keys toward the remaining slaves. “If you want to escape, now’s your chance!” he calls out, his voice booming with authority. The keys scatter,the free slaves begin to unlock their collars and start rushing toward the exit, desperate to escape their tormentors.

Franky then grabs Camie and Pappag, making sure they’re safely with him. Rayleigh, ever composed, reaches for Hatchi, pulling him away from the chaos.

Suddenly, a loud voice booms through the auction house’s remains. “This is the Navy! We have this place surrounded, pirates! Step out and surrender!”

Luffy, brimming with determination, starts moving toward the exit, ready to face whatever the Navy has in store. However, Kidd and Law step up beside him, their faces set with equal resolve.

Kidd, with a confident smirk, steps forward. “I’ve got this,” he says firmly. “Law, Luffy, you two stay back. Let me handle the Navy.”

Law raises an eyebrow, his tone clipped. “Just stay out of my way.”

Luffy scowls. “You’re the last people I need to deal with right now.”

Nami, watching the bickering, shakes her head in disbelief. “Are all captains this childish, or is it just ours?”

You chuckle, your gaze shifting to Zoro, who’s smirking and readying his swords. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a challenge,” you say, your excitement palpable.

Zoro’s grin widens. “You bet.”

Sanji grabs your wrist firmly, his usual flirtatious demeanor replaced by a deep concern. “Y/N, you’re still injured. I can’t.. lose you…

Sanji POV..

Grabbing Y/N wrist, I try to get her to understand my point of view. She just got out of an injury she is in no condition to fight. “Y/N, you’re still injured,” I said, my voice strained and trembling. “I can’t… lose you…

I look up and watch as her determined gaze meets mine, a fierce resolve in her eyes. “Sanji, I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ve got this.”

But that still wasn't enough, I'm scared something else might happen,“You don’t understand. You’re important to us… To me… If something happens to you... I don’t know what I’d do.” my hands tremble as I cling on to her, trying to steady myself.

Y/N’s touch on my cheek is warm, comforting, and for a moment, it eases the panic I felt inside. “Sanji, I promise I’ll be careful. Just trust me, okay? I need you to stay strong for the crew.”

Taking a shuddered breath, struggling to keep my emotions in check,I mentally say “Now’s your chance, tell her how you feel”. But instead I said “Alright, but if you get in trouble, I’m coming for you. I swear it." My voice is firm but laced with vulnerability.

You offered me a reassuring smile, and your fingers gently squeezed my hand. “I’ll be safe. And when this is all over, I’ll be right here with you.”

I nodded, my face etched with anxiety “Be careful, Y/N. Please.”

As you prepare to leave, Chopper approaches with a small vial in hand. “Hey, I’ve got something to help with the pain. It should last about 45 minutes.”

You take the vial with a grateful nod. “Thanks, Chopper. I’m going to need this.”

Y/N POV…

You take the vial with a grateful nod. “Thanks, Chopper. I’m going to need this.”

Opening the cap, you drink the liquid, and begin to feel a bit better. You move your injured leg to see if you can add weight to it.

Smirking you say “Ok, now i'm ready”

As you prepare to head out, Bepo, looking a bit nervous but determined, steps up. “I admire you, Y/N. I hope you can stay safe.”

You smile at the cute bear, touched by his words. “Thanks, Bepo. I’ll do my best.”

Bepo looks up at you with a mix of shyness and determination. “Y/N, can I... can I have your number? Just in case something happens, you know?”

Penguin and Shachi exchange glances and shake their heads. “Bepo, what are you doing? What about Captain Law?”

Bepo lowers his head, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things awkward. I just... I really admire you.”

You smile warmly at Bepo, finding his nervousness endearing. “It’s okay, Bepo. I appreciate it. Here, you can have my number.”

Bepo’s face lights up with relief and gratitude. “Thank you, Y/N! I promise I’ll keep it safe.”

Giggling, you turn to Bepo with a playful smile. “I’ll see you out there, Bepo.”

You then glance at Penguin and Shachi, giving them a mischievous wink. “And as for your captain,” you say, looking them up and down with a grin, “I’ve got something special planned for him.” You give a final wink before turning on your heel, heading out with Zoro by your side.

Zoro smirks at you, his sword ready. “Looks like we’ve got some fun ahead.”

You grin back, feeling the adrenaline rush. “You bet. Let’s show them what we’ve got.”

Outside the Auction house….

As you and Zoro head out, the battlefield’s chaos unfolds before you. The clash of steel and the shouts of combat fill the air. Just as you’re about to engage, you notice someone standing nearby. Without turning to face him, you smirk and call out, “Nice of you to stop by, Killer.”

Killer, his mask revealing only his intense eyes, looks at you. “Didn’t think I’d miss this,” he replies, his voice muffled but serious. His grip tightens on his weapon, ready for action.

The first cannon shot is fired, but Luffy quickly reacts with his Gum-Gum Balloon, deflecting the blast and sending it crashing into a group of navy soldiers. “Gum-Gum Balloon!” Luffy yells, grinning as he lands among the enemies, his infectious enthusiasm lighting up the scene.

You watch in awe as Kidd’s powers come into play, metal bending and twisting around him. The sheer force of his abilities is captivating. You can’t help but feel curiosity. "What’s it like to wield such raw power?" you wonder silently, watching him with a mix of admiration and intrigue.

Law’s powers are equally impressive. You’ve seen him use his “Room” ability before, but witnessing the precision and control up close is something else entirely. The way he manipulates space with a flick of his fingers is mesmerizing. You can only imagine the extent of his abilities.

Zoro and you both shout, “Luffy!” in unison. Luffy turns, his face lighting up with his trademark grin. “Hey guys!” he responds, clearly thrilled to see you both in action.

As the battle rages on, Kidd’s voice cuts through the chaos, calling out, “Nice moves, doll!” The term stings, and you see Law’s expression darken. He turns to Eustass with a snarl, “Don’t you dare call her that. She’s not some object to be tossed around!”

Luffy, charging in with a determined look, adds, “Yeah, she’s not just a doll. She’s my crewmate!”

Killer, on the other hand tries to advance, his eyes locked on you with an intent that suggests he’s about to flirt, even amidst the fight. Before he can make his move, you spot a cannonball hurtling towards him. Without hesitation, you leap into action.

With a swift, acrobatic maneuver, you land on top of Killer, your legs securely around his waist. The cannonball explodes harmlessly in the distance, sending debris flying. You find yourself in a striking position, your eyes meeting Killer's with a playful smirk.

Killer’s eyes widen in surprise as you land securely, your position giving you the upper hand. You sense a faint blush behind his mask. Your gaze briefly meets Kidd’s and Law’s, then you lower it back to Killer.

Leaning in close, your lips brush just above Killer’s ear as you whisper, your voice low and sultry, “It’s a shame there’s such an audience, don’t you think? I rather enjoy having you beneath me like this.” You press your body closer, your breath hot against his skin as you continue, “Tell me, Killer… wouldn’t you agree that this position suits us perfectly?”

Your words drip with dominance, each syllable meant to tease and unnerve. You feel the slight shiver that runs through him, the tension in his muscles betraying the effect you’re having. The power dynamic is unmistakable—you’re in control, and you both know it.

Killer’s breath hitches,the playful glint in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed as you hold his gaze, letting the weight of your words linger.

You lean in even closer, your lips just grazing the edge of his mask as you purr, “Too bad we’re not alone… I could show you just how much I enjoy this.”

Your teasing smile widens as you feel him tense beneath you, your words clearly hitting their mark. From the corner of your eye, you catch Zoro’s knowing smirk, fully aware that you’re playing a dangerous, thrilling game, and you’re winning.

Sanji, who’s been watching the entire exchange, can’t hide his irritation. He’s seen this trick before—you’ve pulled it on him more than once. His eyes narrow, burning holes into Killer as he watches him pinned to the ground beneath you. With a frustrated sigh, Sanji pulls out a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of his lighter. “Does she really have to do all that?” he mutters under his breath, unable to tear his gaze away.

Robin, catching his reaction, smirks and leans in slightly. “Is someone jealous?” she teases, her voice soft but laced with amusement.

Sanji grumbles, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Yeah, yeah… Let’s just get out of here so we can make our quick escape.”

As you glance up, you see your crew making a swift exit toward Grove 13. “Perfect,” you think, watching them disappear into the distance. They’re making their move, just as planned.

Kidd, who has been silently observing the entire interaction, feels a surge of possessiveness boil up inside him. His eyes narrow dangerously as he lashes out at Killer, his voice sharp and accusatory. “What the hell are you doing, Killer? We’re in the middle of a fight, and you’re letting yourself get distracted?”

Killer, now pulled out of his daze, looks up at his captain, realizing the predicament he’s in. “Captain, I can explain—” He hesitates, his usual calm demeanor shaken. “I think… I might be in love.”

The absurdity of his confession hangs in the air for a moment, and you can’t help but chuckle softly. With a fluid motion, you gracefully rise from your position, leaving Killer lying there, flustered and bewildered. You cast a final, teasing glance his way before turning back toward Zoro.

Zoro, still grinning, shakes his head as you approach. “You sure know how to stir things up,” he comments, his tone admiring.

You shrug playfully, adjusting your grip on your blade. “Just keeping things interesting. Now, where were we?”

Luffy, still laughing at the scene he just witnessed, dodges effortlessly as the Navy soldiers fire cannonball after cannonball at him. He weaves through the explosions with ease, grinning as if this were nothing more than a game. The Navy soldiers, growing increasingly desperate, switch to firing bullets. Zoro and you move in sync, your blades flashing as they deflect the incoming rounds, the sharp clang of steel on metal ringing out.

In the midst of the chaos, you notice a Navy soldier charging toward you, blade drawn. With a swift move, you sidestep, slashing through the soldier’s defenses with precision. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of another threat—a soldier poised to strike Law from behind.

Without a second thought, you shout to Zoro, “Cover me!”

“What?” Zoro mumbles, momentarily confused by your sudden request.

“Just do it!” you yell as you sprint toward Law, determined to intercept the attack. Your heart pounds as you close the distance, ready to strike the soldier down before he can harm Law.

But just as you’re about to make contact, Law glances at you, his eyes sharp with concentration. With a swift gesture, he uses his ability, switching your body with the soldier’s in an instant. You barely have time to register the change before you find yourself tumbling forward, only to land squarely on Law’s chest.

Law’s arm wraps around you instinctively, holding you close as you both catch your breath. His usual cool demeanor cracks slightly as he looks down at you, his expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement. “You really need to watch where you’re going,” he mutters, his voice low.

You smirk up at him, your face inches from his. “I had it under control. But thanks for the save”

Before Law can respond, Bepo comes bounding down the steps, followed closely by Penguin and Shachi. The sight of you lying on Law’s chest doesn’t escape their notice.

“Captain, looks like you’ve caught something interesting,” Bepo teases, his voice a mix of admiration and embarrassment.

Penguin snickers, nudging Shachi. “Hey, Shachi, think the captain’s finally met his match?”

Shachi grins, adding, “Or maybe he’s just found a new way to ‘switch’ things up.”

Law’s grip on you tightens slightly, his eyes narrowing at his crewmates. “That’s enough out of you three,” he snaps, though there’s a faint blush creeping up his neck.

You can’t help but laugh at the banter, the tension of the battle momentarily lifted by the playful exchange. “Careful, Law,” you whisper teasingly, “wouldn’t want your crew to get the wrong idea.”

As Law helps you to your feet, you take a moment to brush yourself off, your eyes lingering on his for just a second longer than necessary. A playful glint sparkles in your gaze as you step closer to him, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“Thanks for the assist, Law,” you purr, your voice dripping with flirtation. Before he can react, you lean in and press a quick, soft kiss to his cheek, leaving a faint blush on his usually stoic face.

Law freezes for a moment, clearly caught off guard, his cool demeanor slipping. “What was that for?” he mutters, his voice a little rougher than usual as he tries to regain his composure.

You smirk, stepping back with a teasing grin. “Consider it a thank you. You know, for keeping me from getting skewered.” Your tone is light, but there’s a sultry edge to your words that leaves Law momentarily speechless.

Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi, having witnessed the whole thing, burst into laughter, unable to resist adding their two cents.

“Oh, Captain, you’re really moving up in the world,” Penguin teases, his grin wide.

Shachi chuckles, nudging Bepo. “Guess our captain’s got some charm after all.”

Law’s face darkens as he glares at his crewmates, though the blush on his cheeks betrays his usual composure. “You all really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he grumbles, clearly flustered.

You can’t help but laugh, thoroughly enjoying the effect you’ve had on the normally unflappable surgeon. “Don’t worry, Law. I’ll be around if you need another ‘thank you’ later,” you say with a wink, your voice teasing.

As Luffy’s voice echoes outside the auction house, you feel the weight of the battle and the urgency in his call. “Hey Zoro, Y/N! Let’s head out! The coast looks clear! Right!” Luffy’s voice is full of determination, but before you can make a dash for it, a marine manages to grab you from behind, pulling you down with a strong grip.

You struggle against him, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “Luffy, don’t worry! I’ll stay for a few more minutes! You guys go ahead!” you shout, trying to keep your voice steady despite the situation. “I’ll yell out when you pull me, got it, Luffy?”

Luffy hesitates, his wide eyes full of worry. “I can’t leave you!” he yells back, torn between his loyalty and the need to keep moving.

“Just do it! Trust me!” you command, grabbing the marine by his uniform and slamming him to the ground with a forceful move. “Go now!”

Luffy grits his teeth, torn but knowing he has to trust you. With a reluctant nod, he dashes off, joining Zoro as they make their escape. It’s not long before Luffy catches up with Sanji’s group, but the tension is palpable.

Sanji’s eyes darted around, his heart pounding with anxiety. “Luffy, why is Y/N staying behind?!”

“She’s only staying for a few minutes, but she’ll signal me when it’s time,” Luffy explains, his voice tight with worry. “Damn it!” Sanji curses under his breath, his fists clenching in frustration. He can’t stand the thought of you in danger, especially when he’s not there to protect you.

Back at the auction house, you fend off wave after wave of marines, your movements becoming slower as the effects of Chopper’s medicine start to wear off. “Damn it, I only have a few good minutes left,” you mutter to yourself, feeling the exhaustion creeping in.

Suddenly, a marine captain looms over you, his blade raised high, ready to strike. “You’re mine now, pirate!” he snarls. But just as his sword begins to descend, something strange happens. The blade slips from his grasp, clattering to the ground. The captain’s eyes widen in shock as he watches all the metal around him, including the armor of his men, get sucked away by an unseen force.

You feel your own blade tugging in your hand, but your strong grip keeps it in place. Before you can fully comprehend what’s happening, a flash of movement catches your eye. Suddenly, you’re being lifted off the ground, strong arms holding you securely.

Kidd’s power repels the metal toward the marines, knocking them out one by one with a relentless force. You look up to see Killer holding you tightly, ensuring you’re not hurt. His presence is both comforting and protective.

Kidd hovers over Killer, his gaze intense as he kneels down to check on you. “I got you, Doll. You’re safe now,” Kidd murmurs, his voice surprisingly gentle as he caresses your cheek and hair, his fingers lingering a bit too long.

With what little strength you have left, you reach up, your hand resting against Kidd’s chest. You smirk, your voice low. “You know, Kidd, you’re not so bad up close. Maybe next time, we’ll skip the battle and get straight to the fun.” You let your fingers trace lightly over his chest, enjoying the way his eyes darken with a mix of surprise and desire.

Kidd’s grin widens, his possessive side flaring up as he leans closer. “I’ll hold you to that, Doll. The New World’s gonna be a lot more interesting with you around.”

You chuckle softly, but before things can get any further, you yell out, “Luffy! Now!”

In an instant, Luffy’s stretched arm wraps around your waist, and you’re pulled away from Kidd and Killer’s grasp. As you’re being drawn back toward your crew, you blow them a playful kiss. “This was fun, boys. Can’t wait for a repeat in the New World,” you tease, your voice carrying a flirty edge that lingers in the air.

Kidd watches you with a heated gaze, his hand still tingling from where you touched him. Killer’s eyes, though hidden behind his mask, seem to follow your every movement.

As you’re pulled back toward safety, a sudden bright light flashes from your left side, catching your attention. Your eyes narrow as you try to discern its source, wondering if it’s another enemy lurking in Grove 13. The light grows brighter, and you feel a new wave of tension rising within you, knowing that whatever’s coming could change the course of this chaotic battle once again.

. We Got another long chapter! What can I say I love the details and this was very fun to write. Looks like Sanji got himself some competition with Law, Killer and Kidd. and Y/N cant help but flirt with these men! cant complain cause id do it too lmfaooo!!! This next chapter you guys don't want to miss! Thank you guys for following, liking, and reblogging the story. Chapter 4 will be written tonight and posted tonight!

#vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #killer one piece #onepiece x reader #one piece #monkey d luffy #luffy #kidd x reader #eustasscaptainkid #captain kid #one piece sanji #sabaody archipelago #one piece rayleigh

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andaniellight · 5 months ago

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Nine books that I— have been putting on hold since forever— want to read/finish in 2025

in no particular order:

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi (1)

The Radiant Emperor Duology (2)

Cinder (1)

The Sword of Kaigen (1)

Babel (1)

The Biology of Human Survival: Life and Death in Extreme Environments (1)

A Reaper At The Gates (1)

Gideon The Ninth (1)

More about the books below because, mainly, the summaries are spot on (and kind of represent my taste / why I'm terribly intrigued to read them):

✨️🧋🥡📖✨️

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi by S. A. Chakraborty

Amina Al-Sirafi is a middle-aged single mother with bad knees who lives in a modest country house and minds her own business. She was also one of the most fearsome pirates who ever sailed the Indian Ocean, at least until strange magic claimed a beloved crewmember and drove her to retire on dry land.

2023 historical fantasy.

—

The Radiant Emperor Duology by Shelley Parker-Chan

She Who Became The Sun

Set in an alternate China, She Who Became the Sun is a fascinating genderqueer retelling of the founding of the Ming dynasty, follows Zhu Chongba who had to become a monk even though she's only a little girl for her survival, from childhood to early adulthood, using her dead brother's identity, fighting to claim his destiny as her own.

2021 historical fantasy.

The sequel: He Who Drowned The World

Got the hardcopy as a birthday present for me because I couldn't stop yapping about it to my friend 🥹🥹🥹

—

Cinder by Marissa Meyer

Cinder is a cyborg mechanic living in New Beijing who, along with her best friend (a robot named Iko) and sister (a fully human gal named Pearl), fall in love with Prince Kai. But, life isn't all cleaning and singing, there's a ravaging plague and crippling poverty. The plague can strike anyone at any time.

2012. Part of The Lunar Chronicles.

—

The Sword of Kaigen: A Theonite War Story by M. L. Wang

Better to die sharp in war than rust through a time of peace. A mother struggling to repress her violent past;

A son struggling to grasp his violent future;

A father blind to the danger that threatens them all.

When the winds of war reach their peninsula, will the Matsuda family have the strength to defend their empire? Or will they tear each other apart before the true enemies even reach their shores? High on a mountainside at the edge of the Kaigenese Empire live the most powerful warriors in the world, superhumans capable of raising the sea and wielding blades of ice. For hundreds of years, the fighters of the Kusanagi Peninsula have held the Empire's enemies at bay, earning their frozen spit of land the name 'The Sword of Kaigen.'

Set on the planet Duna, on Mount Takayubi in the Kaigenese Empire, the story revolves around the populace of a remote, highly patriarchal village that, for generations, has raised and trained swordsmen with magical, almost supernatural abilities to fight enemies that invade the realm.

—

Babel by R. F. Kuang

Robin Swift, orphaned by cholera in Canton, is brought to London by the mysterious Professor Lovell. There, he trains for years in Latin, Ancient Greek, and Chinese, all in preparation for the day he'll enroll in Oxford University's prestigious Royal Institute of Translation—also known as Babel.

Babel take place in an alternative-reality in which Britain's global economic and colonial supremacy are fueled by the use of magical silver bars.

—

The Biology of Human Survival: Life and Death in Extreme Environments

Solely for writing reference since I am a deprived and amateur writer first, human second, after all.

—

A Reaper at The Gates by Sabaa Tahir

3rd book of Ember Quartet. To understand this, you must read its 1st book: An Ember in The Ashes (inspired by Ancient Rome, the story follows a girl named Laia spying for rebels against the reigning empire in exchange for their help in rescuing her captive brother; and a boy named Elias struggling to free himself from being an enforcer of a tyrannical regime.)

—

Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

1st book of The Locked Tomb Series. Brought up by unfriendly, ossifying nuns, ancient retainers, and countless skeletons, Gideon is ready to abandon a life of servitude and an afterlife as a reanimated corpse.

That would be all! Thank you so much for tagging me, @kanronotatsu ! ! ! 📚🔍

Fingers crosed I get to at least finish one or two, this year. Now, I shall tag my friends @ikjun @dykealloy @reineyday @radiashen @lunaticus @beguilewritesstuff and YOU, whoever is reading this, are also welcome to share it with us ! ! ! :D

#Book List #Books To Read #genuinely can't care less about the thought that someone might label me as a pick-me #but i will definitely bring and read that book everywhere i go #Ask Game #nine books to finish

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vigilxntesht · 5 months ago

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⋆. 𐙚 ̊ 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

hi, my name is robin! ✮⋆˙ i’m from the netherlands and go by she/her pronouns. i have 5 beloved cats who mean the world to me. i love squid game & taylor swift and i like to write fanfics in my free time, which is what this account is for.

i love writing out people’s requests, so please feel free to leave one in the requests box on my profile! 𖦹°‧ i don’t really have any rules, but for romance stories, i will exclusively write about wlw pairings. all of my fanfics are written from the pov of a female reader.

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙪𝙩 ❤︎

𝙠𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙖𝙚-𝙗𝙮𝙚𝙤𝙠:

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ a sip of fate part 1 | part 2

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ dating kang sae-byeok headcanons

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ a night to remember

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ lost and found

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ mine

𝙠𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙤-𝙚𝙪𝙡:

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ moonlight confessions

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ “let me take care of you.”

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ even in the silence

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emmalovesfitzloved · 2 years ago

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Can you tell me about Fitzloved?

"OH MY GOSH, AM I ABOUT TO INTRODUCE YOU TAYLOR SWIFT?!"

that's what i first meme when i saw your lovely ask! hahahah

Introductions

So its a fandom based on the epic fantasy series that follows for the most part, 2 soulmates, from their childhood all the way to their older years as they grow from friendship, partners to lovers. And I have to admit, the way it's written is almost euphoric. It's utterly lyrical.

So introductions now put aside, 'Fitzloved' is the ship name for "Beloved" (one of his many names) name of the characters and "Fitz". They are the two ongoing protagonists in one of the most respect and wonderful high fantasy series ever created, Realm of the Elderlings by Robin Hobb. They are the main couple shall we say that span the 16 book series. I think a lot describe it as the "mona lisa of fantasy series" within the genre. It's aesthetic is very much evermore meets folklore meets Merlin. Its veryyyyy cozy fantasy and perfect for the season but also the Fall/winter.

The big 5 writers of fantasy rn i have been told are: Brandon's, Robin Hobb's, GRRM (Although he's lost a lot of respect in the community because of his insane hiatus!), Steven Erickson's (Malazan series) and Joe Abercrombie. While you will see with the Cosmere, Brandon is very much straight to the point, prioritises fights, magic system building and very cohesive ensamble casts. Unlike her peers, Robin Hobb on the other hand, is a delicacy. A slowly made dessert that has sweet and salty tastes if you will. And another defining feature is that her series does not involve a massive war at the epicentre of the fantasy plot, which ironically is rare in high fantasy now a days.

Of Cats and Closed Doors by @tragediegh

HOWEVER. The WAY in which i was introduced to this series is kind of dumb and silly, i.e. very me lol. i stumbled across a fiction on ao3 under 'in a the cabin era way' tag and stumbled across @tragediegh's soul-binding, amazing wonderful fiction called Of Cats and Closed Doors that is still ongoing and she updates mostly weekly! At first, not joking i thought it was an original work, but only well into crying, loving, reading, laughing, did i realise when i looked better at the tags it was actually based on ROTE lol. I was new to ao3 that's my only defence :P

And what @tragediegh and Hobb are doing probably tell from my handle, is make literally my roman empire. Like I reread chapters everyday before going to sleep. It's fr fr my safe space. and what i love is the maturity in which they both write, as they create stakes in different ways. She creates a very tangible atmosphere, a world you can touch, the foods cooked, how they smell, and what the character's rely on. From banquet halls, to the wood carvings the Fool leaves behind, the well lit fireplaces, mugs of ale and coffee on the table, through jewels adorned, to how the dragons gleaming like jewels in the sky… it's simply amazing. You get me. There is NEVER a moment where you feel like it's a slog or dull moment. Like I did sometimes while reading the Stormlight Archive or Outlander (those books in their defence, are longer individually).

And like I said, the thing I LOVE the most with how they make us and fall in love with Fool (one of the protagonists) through the eyes of naive and a socially sometimes challenged Fitz. Fitz himself, is the most passionate, handsome, humble hero i've ever read. He is a bastard prince who from day 0 was neglected, abused, unwanted, un-named, manipulated, gaslit just all around most traumatised character one could read. Which most people end up overlooking and resenting bc he is riddled with insecurities (despite him being a hotttie hot chiseled smokie pie that everyone wants to cuffff) and developed unhealthy copying mechanisms that can effect the readability of the main series. Which is entirely relatable. I strongly believe the hero of Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson that everybody loves, is heavily inspired by Fitz in ROTE. In fact I think Brandon said it was one of his fav series.

But really, the masterpiece of this world is obviously the Fool. When I look at the other characters, its a bit like watching a glorious puppet show - I can see how the strings are moving and what the puppets are made of…But not so with the Fool, he is an infinite mystery and creating a character like that is something I`ll never be able to get out of my head. he is other worldly. Put Tolkien fae and beautiful faeries to shame with his grace, elegance, mysticism. His story with Fitz (the other main character) with that @tragediegh and Hobb are doing imo is one of the greatest love stories of all time.

Gender Identity

And I think also, Fool (also known as Beloved to a special someone 😉) is a lgbtq+ individual, and their identity and how they chose to present and address themselves daily (and not address it!) plays a massive role in the ROTE/OCACD overall. It extremely realistic, how it's writen, where for the most part some characters are confused, don't know how to navigate the topic. Which isn't helped by how private and mysterious the Fool remains. But for the most part, is heart warming, as the gender fluidity of the Fool is openly accepted by his mate (YES MATE) with open arms as he accepts it, and it's got me CRYINGGGG as i type this fr....! These characters were created pre-2000's, which just goes to show how timeless these gender questions and acceptances really are i think!

Music

CANON FOR ME swiftie songs that are FOR fitzloved to get a feel r:

ur loosing me

my tears ricochet

invisible string

stay don't go

the lakes

mastermind (YASSS beloved go manipulate ur boy fitzieee ily)

dress (as of chapter 48 and beyond hopefully alkdfjalkdjfj)

and Fitz's song for me for ever will be:

i see fire live and in session by ed sherran (i just feel the literal passion that fitz has through this song not to mention the howl XD)

Conclusion

So yeah, I cannot recommend enough this ongoing story and series to you.

TLDR: Fitzloved is a ship i read myself to sleep every night and cry about how amazing they are XD

Feel free to ask any more questions about them or even my favourite artists that do ROTE work bc ngl this post was 2x as long as i included artistic work but it was getting too long so i decided to leave that for a more specific ask :)) As you can tell i can just dedicate entire evenings singing from the top of these crusty english rooftops how amazing and life changing these two silly beans are. I hope this was enough of a good overview of my love for them and why! :)) Hopefully one day you will give it a go, and i swear your life will be changed for ever ! <333

#fitzloved #OCACD #realm of the elderlings #tragedigh #ILYSM #MUAH #alastairstorm #ask #ROTE #fitzchivalry farseer #Fitz #The Fool #The Catalyst

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