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cinnamonest · 10 months

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Yandere Profile - Kaveh

Happy birthday baby boy. Angel. Blessed boy. I want to hold his face in my hands and squish. I love a man that's just a lil bit pathetic, as all men should be. If I can't occasionally point at a man and laugh what's even the point

(Also I added a question to the list that I'll be using in all future profiles as well ^_^)

//dubcon/noncon, yandere, fem reader, manipulative behavior, n/s/fw section + implications/mentions of not sfw throughout

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Kaveh falls head over heels, face-first, and he tries so, so hard. It's pitiful, really.

He's somewhat on the milder side in terms of what he'll actually do to you and others, provided you comply with him and don't give him reasons to become worse. He's just... very, very intense. In lots of ways, he's a very ideal partner to have, so much so that there's a very good chance you'll end up together of your own volition, making him more of an over-attached boyfriend than a stalker from a distance.

At the very least, even if not a romantic partnership, he will surely become an active part of your life very quickly. Which you likely won't mind, given his pleasant disposition and empathetic nature. What's not to like? Compared to a roster full of individuals ranging anywhere from unhinged and violent to cold or cruel to prideful and infuriating, Kaveh feels like a breath of fresh air. He's considerate, he's empathetic, he really likes making you happy. He recognizes his feelings very early on and has no trouble understanding them, so there's not a lot of time that passes between meeting you and trying to get closer to you. It doesn't take a lot to get him infatuated, either, namely just showing him some kindness.

A waitress or bartender that he sees regularly that's always sweet to him, a stranger that calls out to him to give him something he dropped, a former classmate he still sees around sometimes, pretty much anything, he just latches on to any gesture or display of kindness or affection. Kaveh has the same vibe as a stray cat -- you feed it once, and watch it come back again and again until it just decides to permanently stick around you, only he feeds off of smiles and nice words and gestures. He's always conveniently showing up where you are, trying to brush it off as if he's surprised to see you there.

And again, it's head over heels, boy is in love, the sort of love where he's going around in this smiling daze all the time, mind off somewhere else to the point that he hmm?'s every time someone is trying to talk to him. He asks around about you to people who know you, starts showing up a short ways outside your door and greeting you in the mornings (you never told him where you live, though), starts making small mistakes in his work that he has to go back and fix because his mind was preoccupied with you. He also starts following you around a bit, just to a degree that he feels is still normal. He's not, like, some creep or anything.

Which is how he rationalizes things to himself -- he's well aware of his own feelings, yes, and he's not really a full-blown delusional type per se, but he does have a tendency to rationalize abnormal actions to himself, convince himself that certain things he does are okay or normal or reasonable when they very much are not. Or sometimes, he can acknowledge something is in fact not normal or okay, but he lies to himself that it's just this once and he won't do it again (he will), that everyone makes poor decisions or does some not-so-good things every now and then, or that he's doing what he does for good reasons, which justifies the action itself. It's a specific sort of delusion wherein he maintains lucidity and objective perception of everything else -- he doesn't think that everyone else who likes you is actually super evil and has malicious intent if they clearly don't, nor does he convince himself that you must love him, or anything like that -- it's limited to rationalizing his own actions.

And even then, it's fairly weak, not so much true delusion, because in the back of his mind, he doesn't actually believe it, it's just what he tells himself for a time to feel better about what he does. Even so, it can't last forever, and eventually he gives up and just has to live with the guilt. Thus, it gradually progresses to following you more and more, taking some things that won't be missed, and maybe he might or might not have climbed into your room and laid on your bed for a while because you left the window unlocked. Which is bad, but he won't do it again, it was just a one-time thing, really.

While he does rationalize acts he knows are considered "bad," he also engages in other behaviors he isn't quite as self-aware of, including both clingy tendencies as well as other behaviors that aren't noticed by anyone else, but he fails to stop and realize how abnormal and unwell said behaviors are. For the clinginess aspect, the closer to you he gets, the more comfortable he gets with complaining about his frustrations and stressors onto you, and frankly, he can get a bit whiny. It's not intentional, it's just that he doesn't have a lot of outlets, and he's under so much stress and you're so nice to him and you don't stop him from drinking so he just starts to go on and on and on, eventually leaning over onto you as he continues on about his woes. Sometimes for very long periods of time, if you don't stop him. He likes the attention and sympathy you never fail to give him.

Which tends to happen a lot anyway, since you notice the poor thing seems rather prone to misfortune and mishap, at least whenever you see him. There was that time he showed up to you all scraped up, forearms covered in little cuts because of, when you inquired, apparently helping that traveler friend of his fight some common criminals as part of some mission or another. He didn't bother to take care of the wounds in any way, seeing as they were fairly minor, but you started fussing about infections and insisted he come over and sit down and let you wrap them up and treat it to the best of your ability.

You poor thing, you said. He can recall the softness and concern in your voice. You said something about how he should be more careful, that he could come back to you if he got hurt again, that he must be rather brave and strong to get into fights like that. He doesn't remember all the exact words due to the dizzy fuzzy warm feeling all over. You only recall that he started to show up to your home within a few days with significantly worse wounds, which you once again worried and fretted over and tended to for his sake. It becomes something of a routine. You think to yourself that it's sweet that he smiles the whole time despite being hurt. You assume it's forced so as to not make you worry more.

Also, Kaveh has a drive to learn about the things he likes, more intensely so than the average person. He's been academically successful for a variety of reasons, such as being both naturally suited for at and passionate about his craft, but also possessing the general ability to intake, retain, understand, and apply information. And when it comes to you, he undergoes an experience very much akin to how he used to discover some area of special interest in his field while studying, he'd come across and become fascinated by a certain style or era of architecture or the like, and spend days on end absorbing information on it.

Similarly, he feels a compulsion to know you, to learn everything he can in relevance to you. He takes any available avenues to do so, be it from others, from quietly observing you and your behaviors and habits, normal things... and maybe some more intrusive things. It can't be that private of a conversation, since you know he's supposed to be in the other room, so it can't be that big of a deal if he just quietly shuffles his way over and puts his ear to the door, just to listen in on who you're talking to. And if you wrote things that were really that private or secret, you wouldn't leave your journal sitting right there on your desk, you'd hide it away somewhere, so it can't be that bad to read it.

Regardless of those more secretive behaviors, his outward, non-secretive behaviors are a lot more obvious than he realizes, so much so that you're not at all surprised when he finally does muster up the courage to say something to you. He's also rather nervous and consequently awkward, at least when sober. He's like a little schoolboy trying to confess to a playground crush, stumbles over his words, lots of nervous smiling.

Still, you're fairly inclined to accept. He's always been so sweet, he's pretty, you see no reason not to, and he seems positively elated when you agree. The poor thing is in such a daze that he walks headfirst into a lamppost after walking you home and parting for the night (you laughed, but you still ran over to help him back up). Sure, he's a bit clingy, that much is already obvious, but you figure he'll calm down at least a little bit once you start seeing each other more.

That, however, turns out to not be the case. Quite the opposite.

The most noticeable behavior from the get-go is that he is almost a bit too attached, and he develops a bit of a dependency very quickly. Now, it's more acceptable for him to know where you are and be around you and all that, so he makes sure to do so at every opportunity. To an even greater degree than before, which turns out to be somehow possible. He moves very very fast, in terms of a relationship. You've heard the phrase I love you within a few days, he wants to move in together within no time, he's spending what little extra money he has on you at every opportunity from the get-go. Sure, there's a "honeymoon phase" where it's normal to be super clingy to each other, but it quickly becomes clear his is not dying down any time soon.

And he cares about you so much, so it's okay for him to want to know where you are if he can't find you, to get a bit upset and frustrated with you when you disappear for fifteen minutes because you went to the store to pick up something and didn't tell him (or, ideally, take him with you). Which you can dismiss and blow off as him just being stressed or anxious once or twice, but it soon becomes clear you can't so much as leave his line of sight for a few minutes without him going to look for you.

Then starts the isolation from others. Sure, you could go out with your friends, but he forgot you had that planned and may or may not have gotten takeout for both of you, so you can miss it this once, right? And then the next time, it's that it's just that you all are planning to meet so late at night, and he doesn't feel comfortable with that kind of risk... so on and so on. You soon realize you haven't spent time with anyone else in quite some time. Whenever you do talk to someone, he always wants to know who they are and what you talked about. He doesn't demand to know, or sound angry or anything, he just... asks. Just out of curiosity, you know.

He just wants to be with you, spend time with you, talk to you, be involved in the little aspects of your daily life. It's just that that means... everything. All the time. Every single second of every single day. Even the phrase "every waking second" doesn't quite cover it, because he'll be there every second of your sleep as well, clinging to you tightly. He wants to be there when you wake up, and when you get ready in the mornings, and when you walk to your daily routine of work or school or whatever, and he'll linger and talk and talk until the last possible second, until you remind him for a third time that you're both going to be late if you don't go your separate ways, where he'll finally relent and wish you a good day. Then he starts to make sure he gets to eat lunch at the same time as you, so you see each other then too! And then he's right there to greet you as you leave for the day, and then you can walk home, and then he'll be there the whole evening, clinging to you both emotionally and physically, talking and cuddling and staying right there by your side, and then he'll ask if he can stay over for the night as he always does these days, and then you'll go to bed and he won't leave your side all night long. And of course, he'll bring up the idea of moving in with you yet again, that he could pitch in for the rent and it would save you both money, and you'll give a vague non-answer because you're not quite ready for that but don't want to hurt his feelings, deflect and try to change topics again. And then the cycle repeats.

Day after day. Without relent. Endlessly. To say it's starting to affect you psychologically would be an understatement.

Of course, with all the unfavorable aspects combined, you might just start to think that maybe you made a mistake, maybe you should think about suggesting you take a break...

Except he seems to kind of sense that. Even if it's just subconscious, he sort of detects your body language and recent behaviors and realizes something has you unhappy or discontent or just distant from him. It makes him feel this awful pit of dread in his stomach, the mere notion makes him sick. You wouldn't ever leave him, though, would you?

He was already attached to you beforehand, but now, his entire happiness and sense of purpose depends on you. You become his entire world, the only thing that really matters. The only thing he really thinks about or cares about. If, for whatever reason, you were to suddenly disappear from his life... well, then he would have nothing left. His passion for his work alone can't keep him going, now that he's had a taste of the euphoric feeling of such intense emotion towards someone. Nothing else will ever compare. You wouldn't do that to him.

But just in case. Whenever he gets this feeling like you're getting distant or like you're going to soon tell him something he doesn't want to hear, he makes sure that he has something prepared to prevent the worst. Expensive gifts he scraped enough together for, planning some big night that will make you happy, doing some significant act of service or favor for you. Something that wins over your favor, makes sure you remember you love him and don't ever think of leaving him. Or maybe even just holding you close and reminding you that you're everything to him, that he needs you, that he wouldn't know how to keep going if he didn't have you. Just to make sure you know how much you'd hurt him, how awful you would be, if you ever got any ideas about not needing him as much as he needs you.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Kidnapping is something that would only ever be a last resort. Kaveh ideally wants something very close to a normal relationship. In his mind, what he wants is a normal relationship, he's just... maybe a bit clingier and more protective than most. But otherwise, he's very normal!

Nothing unusual, he just wants to... move in together. Get a place together that he can pay part of (eventually he'll make enough to pay for it all by himself, so he promises). Or you can even just move in with him where he is now! It'll be, uh, awkward, but Alhaitham will probably be okay with it. You've already spent a lot of nights there, and he's only told Kaveh to go over to your place instead so he can 'get at least one night without having to sleep with earpieces in for once, you do realize I can hear literally everyth--' well, anyway, he's only been driven to the point of saying that a handful of times, so as long as you're careful with the, uh, timing, it should be fine.

The whole moving in together thing does get sprung on you very fast, like, a matter of maybe a week at minimum. A bit too fast, so you can gently put him down and try to hold off for a while, but he'll take the first opportunity you allow, and with enough pushing, you're bound to agree eventually.

Which makes him very happy. Now he can be around you that much more.

He does have some ideas, though, to gently suggest to you, on your future and how the relationship should work and all that. He saves up enough to decide that you don't need to work or have a job, you can stay at home and take care of domestic stuff and not have to worry about ever leaving. Oh, well, you can leave to get groceries and stuff, just... don't go by yourself, okay? Let him go with you. That way you'll never have to be alone outside without him, that's all. You know, he read this headline on a public news board the other day, said pickpocketing and theft in the area has been rising, so you know, just to be safe, you never know who's out there. Best to just not go out in public alone. And if you really do have to go meet someone or get something alone, just be sure to let him know. In fact, here's a fun idea, how about each morning you give him an hour-by-hour plan of what you anticipate doing that day? Just so he can have an idea of where you'll be, just for safety's sake. And be sure to be there at this and that time, since he'll use his breaks to come back and check on you, and he would get really worried if you weren't exactly where he anticipates you to be, you know?

As long as you can mutually agree to be safe by following those little guidelines, everything will be fine, he won't have any reason to worry, and he'll be content. Should you disregard his suggestions, though, he might get a bit more paranoid. Check on you more often. Try to talk it out, just let you know that, hey, he would really appreciate it if you could do like he asked you to and stick to the plan, he just worries about you is all. You understand that, don't you? He'll have to continuously bring it up the more you deviate from that plan, and maybe he'll have to, in is own words, 'get a bit annoying about it, haha...'

There is, however, one way that could potentially get you truly imprisoned in the classic obsessive-lover sense: attempting to go through with those thoughts of yours about leaving him.

You don't actually get to finish your spiel, when you try to bring it up and lay it on him as gently as possible. It's very obvious where you're headed, what you're about to say, so there's no need to let you finish talking, to make it all too real and actually be forced to hear the words he'd rather not. You can already see his face fall, his eyes get wide. It's... it's actually kind of creepy, unnerving and unsettling in a visceral way, a way that sends a genuine chill down your spine, like some instinct telling you something is very, very wrong. You find yourself trailing off and going quiet before you can even get the words out.

You instinctively take a step back when he moves towards you, but he's faster. Locks his hands around your wrists with a crushing grip. His face is completely blank, pupils small from having widened eyes.

You don't... you don't mean that.

HIs voice is eerily quiet and soft. You try to pull back, but his grip is unrelenting. You say something else, but he acts as if he doesn't hear you. Pulls you along as he starts to walk. Doesn't respond when you ask what he's doing. You feel a sense of alarm growing heavier in your chest. He pulls you into your shared bedroom.

I think we both need to just calm down for a while.

His voice is still ominously quiet, devoid of emotion. You try to step back, but he pulls you forward again. Lays down, takes you with him. Holds you tight, runs a hand up and down your back, slow soothing motions, totally silent. A moment ago you were trying to end things, but you suddenly feel very, very nervous at the thought of saying anything further, some instinct telling you that trying to break away or insist on leaving would be a very, very bad idea. You don't like the thought of that, the implications of the fact that you're pretty sure it's your innate danger and self-preservation instincts telling you to stay quiet. You find yourself trembling in his hold.

And after a while like that, he finally says something.

I really love you.

You know what the appropriate response is. Even if you're filled with resentment and irritation, those same self-preservation instincts force out the correct response. He sighs when you say it, like he was afraid of hearing something else.

I'm... glad. See, we just needed to relax for a moment. That's all.

And when he stands up, smiling again, you think the moment is over, that the eye-opening momentary episode of whatever the hell that was is done and you can escape. But then, he gently pushes you back onto the bed.

I think... you need to stay in here for now. I'll be back in just a little while with some food, okay?

Once more, the instincts tell you not to resist, at least not now. O-oh, uh... okay...

He hums in response and smiles, and for a moment, you think everything is fine now, that maybe he's just emotional and in a bad state of mind, maybe he'll come back and apologize, maybe he'll finally agree that this isn't working out and wish you the best... but when he shuts the door and you hear the distinct sound of heavy furniture scraping against the floor as something is pushed in front of the door, a sinking feeling of dread swells in your stomach. Another instinct, somehow even worse than your prior fear, tells you you won't be leaving this room for a long time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

Because he doesn't really want to restrain you much in the first place, the only thing really holding you in any given place, at least initially, is his gentle suggestions on where you should or shouldn't be, and specifically some very strong urging to stay away from certain places or people. Really, the biggest hurdle is his presence, seeing as he clings to you so much, it's hard to get away, and he'll do everything in his power to stop you from leaving if he's right there, namely standing in between you and your path, trying to change the subject or stuttering to find something to say to distract you and deter you from leaving.

Should you try to slip away and get a little bit of time to yourself, it probably won't last long. Firstly, he notices your absence near-immediately, and seems to have some innate ability to find you, like a bloodhound or something. You didn't give him any hints or implications as to where you'd be going, yet somehow he manages to show up there as his first guess of places to look...? The only possibility that actually makes sense is that he's obsessively learned your own mental process tendencies to such a degree that he was able to predict your own conscious choices, which frankly terrifies you in its own way, so you choose to believe it's coincidence.

He always calms down once he does find you, but he stays quiet as you head home (he insists you go home right now, and the unusual, almost out of character intensity to the command makes you nervous enough to comply). Once home, he'll go through his usual cycle of being cold and quiet, then expressing his feelings all in one frustrated rant. Holds onto you, buries his face in the crook of your neck.

This is where one of his talents comes in -- albeit largely a subconscious behavior, he's masterful at guilt-tripping. Keeps talking about how he was so worried, how he doesn't understand why you want to hurt him like this, he cares so much about you and it feels like that means nothing to you, on and on it goes. Any irritation on your part is met with more and more guilt-tripping, sucking you down until you can't be mad or express your own frustrations that led to this for long because come on, look at him, he's looking like a wounded puppy and talking about how much he loves you, how can you be so mean? It's not asking a lot, is it? Are you really mad that he cares so much about you...?

No? Now you sigh and shake your head and get out something about how you're sorry, but-- You don't get to finish the sentence, though. He's already wrapped his arms around you, smiling and assuring you he'll try to be around more so he can take you wherever. Just... don't do this to him again, okay? The way he grips your shoulders like he's trying to break them when he says it makes you inclined to stutter out an agreement out of impulse, even if you regret saying it a moment later.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

It's easy enough on a purely practical level, but honestly, it's hard to not feel guilty for doing so, given how sincere and loving he is. He's pretty gullible, it's not hard to fool him. He'll just get really sad once he realizes you did, in fact, lie to him. Or, if you lie about something like where you'll be or what you'll be doing because you didn't want him to get all worried and paranoid (such as going out with friends, which always makes him very paranoid), he gets nervous. If it's bad enough, it might be one of the few occasions where he really raises his voice and gets upset, asking you what you were thinking and why you didn't listen to him, why you couldn't just talk it out, and so on. But his anger very quickly gives way to being rather hurt and bitter, resulting in him isolating himself and sulking for some time. He takes a few days to get over the sense of betrayal, but his recovery is expedited if you try to make it up to him or apologize for it. Apologizing is especially a wise move -- even though he tries to be understanding and often tries to agree to whatever you want to make you happy, when it comes to things like this, where it's a matter of your wellbeing or a moral issue, he really toughens up and becomes much more firm in his resolve, even stubborn, when it comes to things of that nature.

And as easy as lying to him is, manipulating him is even easier, you barely have to try. Just give him a little bit of affection and talk to him in a sweet cooing voice, and he'd walk off a cliff if you asked him to. You hold a lot of power in your hands. If you end up abusing it enough, he'll eventually realize he's being manipulated... but even then, he can't bring himself to stop. He just loves you so much, he lives for the high he gets from hearing you thank him and hug him and kiss him for doing things for you. You can even convince him to do morally bad things for you, if you push him enough, although he'll be sullen and sad afterwards, so if you have a heart, try not to abuse this power.

And another thing. The moment sex is involved, he becomes somehow even more manipulable than he already was. An inch of bare skin or a few sweet suggestive words in a sultry voice will have him going red in the face before bending over backwards to do whatever you want and performing requested tasks at the speed of light, often without even thinking through what it is he's been roped into doing. It's rather cute and amusing, really. Again, please be careful with the power you hold.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He would like to allow you to do anything you want -- and he'd never force you to not do something you want, of course! -- but obviously, anyone who cares for someone has certain limits and boundaries, which are there because of love for someone. After all, if you love someone, you won't let them do something reckless and stupid or dangerous. If anything, allowing someone to do whatever without regard for safety would indicate apathy. That's why it's understandable -- you should be glad, even -- that he's very conscious of your well-being and risks thereof.

You can do pretty much anything, so long as it's inside. He'll spend whatever he has buying you anything you want to do, supports any non-dangerous hobbies. It's just... you can't go outside, not without him at least. He'll gladly take you anywhere you want as long as it's when he has free time, though! Just... just abide by this one simple request, please? That's the only thing he takes an issue with. You can dress however you want, act however you want, do whatever you want. He just doesn't want you putting yourself at risk is all.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Again, it's pretty much entirely about staying inside and not going out, and he would really appreciate you do that one thing for him. It's not asking a lot, right? Well, then there's all the checkups throughout the day and insistence on communication, but that all ties back to the same main rule. But to be honest, he really doesn't like thinking of it as a "rule," that word has this... authoritative, controlling connotation to it that he really doesn't like. It makes him feel guilty to think of it like that, like he's doing something wrong. He'd be really hurt if you referred to it that way.

Likewise, punishing you for not following something you both agreed to sounds a bit harsh. He'll try to talk with you about it, of course, communication and mutual understanding is important, and the key to a happy relationship. The only issue is you might not come to that mutual understanding. But even if you don't agree, he can't just let you do as you please, and put yourself in danger, as well as give him constant anxiety. If you can't seem to reach an understanding, he might just have to get an extra lock from the outside. You may call that unnecessary or absurd, but he's very insistent, and if confronted on it, will get huffy and cross his arms, say something about how it's incredible you're getting mad about him caring about you. He's good at overdramatizing like that to deflect from his own actions, to sort of shift the blame onto you. The more you try to bring it up, the more he'll talk over you, keep distracting and refuse to acknowledge the actual problem.

While he also doesn't call it a rule either, he also is really insistent that you communicate. He gets very paranoid if you won't talk to him, if you try to give him silent treatment or something like that. So if you pull this behavior a few times, he'll try to sit down and have a talk with you about how communicating is very important, and how when you refuse to speak to him it makes him really really nervous and he feels so sick to his stomach and his mind assumes the worst and the paranoia eats away at him and... well, just, can you both maybe agree to not do that? That when you're upset, you'll just tell him you are and why? Please?

He'll be very relieved if you agree, but do note that in practice, this rule actually only applies to you. He, on the other hand, will very commonly get quiet and refuse to elaborate on why he's upset without coaxing. But he tells you eventually once you give him the attention he wants, so, it counts as compliance with the agreement, in his mind.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Kaveh would strongly prefer to avoid homicide if at all possible, and will go to great lengths to avoid it. He's not a particularly confrontational or aggressive person at all. He's also self-aware enough to know that starting any actual up-front conflict with someone else would just be embarrassing himself, and you as well.

It's not as if there isn't a brief second where the thought does cross his mind, though. That it would be so much easier to deal with everything if he could just permanently get rid of someone.

But he's just not that sort of person. He's rational and empathetic, he's not the sort of obsessed that will convince himself the other person is committing a transgression worthy of death just by liking you. He knows that killing them would be an incredibly selfish, abhorrent act... and, of course, very much a crime, one that has the potential to ruin his life if found out.

He does try roundabout ways. He's a sweet person and most people like him, so he has heard his fair share of talk and gossip that circulates around the community. Ideally, he can find someone else that likes the person who likes you, encourage them to go for it and pursue the one they want, and everything works out perfectly. Well, that's how he envisions it in his head, but he knows it probably won't be that easy.

He puts himself to work trying every other angle he can. Digs around for information on the individual, trying to find some negative thing to use against them — a violation that could get them expelled or jailed, a secret he can post on a public bulletin and ruin their reputation, anything. He feels bad, of course, but it's the morally superior option to murder, and that thought helps him feel less guilty.

If worse comes to worse, he can still cause inconveniences. They're going to go meet up with you? Not with their keys hidden they aren't, preventing them from locking their door. He'll find countless little ways to sabotage, all in the hope that it will somehow ruin the relationship between the two of you... he'll feel bad, but it's worth it.

For him to ever actually, truly reach a point where killing is a realistic possibility, it would require a lot of pushing and desperation. He would have had to exhaust every other possible option, and feel that he's at a point where he'll lose you permanently unless he takes some form of drastic action. Even then, the downside of this is that he actually doesn't plan a murder, he ends up doing something spontaneous and impulsive out of a sudden panic response. There's an opportunity — they're standing at the edge of a railing they would die if they fell from, he knows which drink is theirs and there's pest poisons just sitting right there so temptingly, or something of that nature — and he just takes it on an impulse, only to process his own actions a second too late.

The downside of this is that the homicide will certainly be discovered, so it's not as if it's just a person gone missing, but it's just perfectly done enough that they never have any idea who might have done it, or, it may be written off as an accident, depending on the specifics. Nonetheless, you notice that you haven't seen Kaveh in a few days... turns out he's holed up in his home, with his roommate saying something must be wrong with him, because he's been sick and feverish... it's very unfortunate timing, seeing as you were hoping to go to him for some comfort over the loss of another friend, but you can just wait for him to feel better.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He may be sweet, but it's not really that hard to get him upset. He's rather patient, tries to be understanding. If you have some disagreement, he tries his best to be calm and see things from your perspective and all that. But there is a limit to his patience.

However, his poor moods aren't really what you'd call true anger, he's more prone to this quick cycle where he first gets frustrated and huffy, then sullen and sad and moody. The first stage is lots of heavy frustrated sighs, he crosses his arms and grinds his teeth. He doesn't yell or shout, but he does raise his voice just a bit, and it's clearly audibly irritated. Prone to using those phrases with "if" and "just" -- if you would just listen, or if we could just do that, then, or if they just leave you alone, so on and so on, creating these scenarios where his ideal is the most reasonable outcome, and it's dependent on you or someone else to meet some simple condition, at which point everything would work out perfectly, making you or some other person the only thing inhibiting said ideal outcome. If he's really, really mad, he doesn't want to end up saying something that would hurt you or anything, and he gets the impulse to just go walk it off and cool down, so he actually ends up storming off, muttering something about needing just a few minutes. It's actually one of the few times he ever leaves you alone, funnily enough. It doesn't last too long before he comes back, and that's only on rare occasions that he reaches that point.

After that first stage, after getting out the frustration, it gives way to feeling all sad and melancholy, so he tends to mope. And whine. And sulk. And wallow in feeling sorry for himself. And, if possible, drink the feelings away. It's kind of childish, really, and often overdramatic. If you're present and it's not you who made him feel that way to begin with, he doesn't actually outright say anything or ask for anything, but he goes out of his way to be extra mopey and sad and makes sure it's right within your field of vision, hoping you will give him attention and love and encouragement. Just sort of silently sits there all sad and waits for some attention. And yes, this means that if you haven't caught onto it due to being spaced out or focused on something else, and go into another room, he will sort of quietly trail behind you and go into the next room with you before sitting down and sulking again, until you finally catch on and give him the attention he craves.

If you are the reason he's all hurt, even unintentionally, he might resort to giving you a bit of silent treatment, with a similar goal: hope that you'll give him attention and ask what's wrong and then ask what's wrong again when he says 'nothing' and then gasp and apologize when he tells you and say you didn't mean what you did or said that way and hold him and kiss his forehead and... well, that's how it plays out in his head.

If you're trying to make him mad intentionally, though, he's likely to see through it, and again, he just gets hurt. Why are you being so mean? Did I do something? He actually gets really, genuinely hurt by this sort of behavior, and will likely make you feel so guilty for trying it that you cease and refocus your efforts to a different tactic.

How do they express affection, or attempt to endear themselves to you?

It would be easier to ask how he doesn't. He tries every angle, every means of expression, manages to have every "love language" simultaneously. He's always getting you various little gifts (how is he affording that?), always saying nice things, always doing things for you and helping you with any task you wish, always spending time with you (even if you don't want it), and if you'll allow it, he's very, very cuddly. While he does it all, he's especially focused on getting stuff for you, despite his lack of funds.

Maybe it's because it's just his preferred way of expressing his affection, but perhaps there's also a more manipulative side to it -- he knows that you know that he doesn't have a lot of money, so if you see that he's spending what little he does have on you, it will seem that much more significant, right? You'll notice, and then it will seem like an even bigger, more meaningful gesture because of that. You'll thus be more emotionally moved by the gesture, and you'll surely want to repay him with affection and attention. Whether that's just a natural exchange of sentiments or a subtly manipulative means of trying to win your favor, well, you can think whatever you like.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It somewhat depends on his mood. On better days, he'd like to just disregard such notions as "value" of an individual person, thinks the concept is shallow and meaningless, the sort of thing only either very prideful or very insecure people would even care to think about. Who cares what someone's "worth" is, or if someone is "better" or "worse" than someone else? As long as two people love each other, nothing else should matter, right?

But on worse days, when he's sulking and his thoughts wander to negative places, he starts to feel like you're better than him, to the extent it can make him depressed. When he's not in a good mood, he often lays around wallowing, deep in thought about how you can do so much better than him, there's no way you'd ever choose to stay with him permanently, and even if you do like him, surely someone better will come along and he'll lose you... sigh.

When he's in such a sulking mood, it's very outwardly obvious, he gets quieter than usual and a sad look on his face. So if you just give him a bit of reassurance, maybe a hug and cuddles and a kiss to the forehead and some sweet uplifting words (please), he'll perk right back up. Well, the thought will still be in the back of his mind, but he can't stay too sad when you're giving him attention. He'll just keep feeding off your reassurance for a while until the contentment from it runs out, and then he gets depressed again, and then you reassure him again, and, well, it cycles like that.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

If you haven't accepted him, he's still incredibly determined, in spite of a tendency to sometimes be pessimistic in his own thoughts about the matter. He bounces back and forth -- he'll undergo a brief sad spell thinking about how he'll never make you like him, but he comes out of it with newfound determination that he'll either win you over or die trying. This repeats over and over, at least until you show some semblance of affection or attention, which will serve as a fuel he manages to stretch out for an incredibly long time thereafter.

...And don't give him any ideas, because seriously, he will die trying. This man will put his own well-being at great risk for a chance to impress you. Seriously. He doesn't even really need you to do anything to push him, even. He will do something incredibly stupid and he will get himself hurt if you don't actively stop him from doing so. Over time you kind of develop a sixth sense, a radar where you can feel when he's about to do something stupid, so use it wisely.

If you do accept him and agree to be with him, he'd like to think you already do love him, but to be honest, he gets insecure pretty easily and, while he won't actually ask for it because he deems it too pathetic, he would very much appreciate if you remind him you love him on a regular basis.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

His reluctance to do anything he deems immoral does not combine well with his desire to secure you all to himself. The two don't exactly go hand-in-hand, it's difficult to ensure someone remains around you at all times and never interacts with anyone else without taking some unsavory measures to get to that point. Hence, he takes so many roundabout measures of getting the results he wants, and does so much by proxy -- not only does it prevent a lot of things from being tracked back to him, but it also alleviates himself of guilt. That alone sets him apart from the typical type of obsessive lover and their tendencies to kill, rape and kidnap without much hesitancy.

When he does engage in morally questionable behaviors and manipulative tactics, though, it's really not even intentional. That behavior isn't even necessarily a conscious choice, he doesn't really think about it or intend it to be part of some bigger picture of control, it's just that whenever you mention going out to see other people, or when he doesn't know where you are, or when you're paying more attention to something else than him, he gets this awful sick feeling and acts on impulses to soothe his nerves, which just so happens to be keeping you right by his side and ensuring he has your full attention. It's not malicious, or intentionally controlling or manipulative. He just cares so, so much and loves you so, so much and the behaviors just come out without him really putting any intentional thought into them, nor has it ever occurred to him as an afterthought. It just doesn't really cross his mind, he doesn't reflect on his own actions all that much.

If he was made aware of how manipulative he can be, forced to come to the realization of everything he's done, it would come as a bit of a shock to him, and would leave him more or less a psychological mess for a little while as he comes to terms with the fact that, despite his best conscious intentions, he's actually been pretty awful in some ways. He would come out of it swearing to himself to be better, thinking he will keep better track of himself in the future and think his actions through, that he'll make up for anything bad that he's done before... but, of course, the chances of that resolve lasting in the face of situational impulses is not that great, and in the heat of the moment, any thoughts he has that what he might be about to do is kind of distasteful behavior will be overridden by some momentary justification, which will be reinforced and repeated to himself afterwards to make himself feel better.

On a more wholesome note, Kaveh also gets really enthusiastic about your passions, talents and hobbies. He understands passion and dedication to a craft or art form, having the same experience himself, and gets really into supporting you in your endeavors, should you have anything of the sort. Whether it's something artsy like music or drawing or dance, or something more sport-related or science-related, doesn't really matter, he just really makes an effort to support you and encourage you. He'll tell you whatever you've created is amazing (even if you both know it's not), he'll spend whatever money he gets his hands on to buy materials or supplies or other thematic gifts (even though you keep telling him not to, to save his money), and he always asks tons of questions. It's partially a genuine, heartfelt sentiment, and it's also just partially an obsessive compulsion to know everything there is to know regarding you, but he also does very much hope that you will be happy and appreciate his efforts, and that in turn you'll think more highly of him and have more affection for him. Basically, it's partially yet another means of trying to win your favor. Nonetheless, it's really sweet and endearing.

Finally, in all honesty, Kaveh can be pretty sensitive. Especially in regards to you. It's easy to hurt his feelings, and when he's hurt, he goes into one of his attention-seeking moping sessions. You often find yourself feeling like you can't be entirely honest with him, because he's so sensitive to your words and feelings, so if you're bluntly honest, you'll end up hurting his feelings fairly often. You sometimes have to just find ways to articulate what you want to say in a way to deflect from anything he might take too personally. Regardless, be prepared to deal with a lot of his sad wallowing. He'll be sad (and make sure you see it) until you come cheer him up, preferably with hugs and kisses and sweet words. He can get rather childish when it comes to this, so it's easy to get frustrated by his sensitivity, but it's easier for both of you if you just comply and be all sweet like he wants, or else you'll just create a bigger task for yourself when he gets even more upset.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

He's incredibly touchy, if you allow it. He's perceptive enough to tell if you flinch or draw away from his touch, so he'll refrain if he feels like it's bothering you, but if you seem to be receptive to his touches, he can't keep his hands off of you. All throughout the day, laying on the couch or in bed, he keeps his arms wrapped around you, always holds your hand in public, and clings to you in some way even just walking around the house. Depending on your height difference, he likes to rest his chin either on the top of your head or your shoulder, arms wrapped around you from behind while you work on whatever you're doing.

He's admittedly developed a habit of masturbation fairly regularly, so he's used to getting to cum pretty often, needs it at least once a day. He's fairly horny overall, but in particular, his drive increases as an emotional response. If he's in a good mood, the slightest of visual stimuli or touches can get him going, and he's very eager. If he's sad, though, he still gets horny over it, the purpose of wanting sex just changes, now being that it will cheer him up. The only time he really can't get easily aroused if when he's under very intense stress, situations that need to be resolved as fast as possible, he's just too focused on whatever the task at hand is to think about much else. He'll still very much appreciate (and not outright ask for, but maybe strongly hint at wanting) a nice blowjob or riding him when he's finished as a means of praising him for getting through his task, though.

He's a mix of reserved and not reserved. He's awkward about it and very new to it all, so he has a tendency to be shy about it, the sort of thing where he can't make eye contact, keeps sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. But the raging hormones and eagerness make him simultaneously still very much unhesitant to participate and discuss, even if he's burning on the inside with embarrassment the whole time.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Of course he cares tremendously. Forcing someone into doing intimate acts against their will is one of the most horrific crimes he can conceive of, and he despises people who would do something like that. Rapists, in his mind, are all strangers, a certain class of bad people who exist solely in certain unsavory spaces and groups.

But people who are in relationships are supposed to be intimate with each other and all. It's natural and healthy. Relationships are said to suffer if there's a sudden drought in that department.

See, Kaveh has a sort of slow descent. A lot of his approach depends on whether or not you've had sex or any sort of intimacy before. Before you've ever done so, he's very respectful of your wishes, would never push anything onto you, would never pressure you, is willing to maintain a perfectly squeaky-clean relationship where you never touch below the neck, will stiffen and turn around and cover his eyes automatically if you start to change or have a wardrobe malfunction that reveals something, won't even talk about such things if you don't bring it up first. Much to your amusement, he even asked to kiss you the first time he did so. The sort of "pure" relationship that you've seen particularly religiously pious or socially traditional people promote.

Things change a bit with time, though. Still, he'd never ever ever force anything, of course, but, you know. There's a lot of space between forcing something and being totally okay with not having it ever.

Once you've gotten somewhat hot and heavy, late at night alone in your place, mouths latched onto each other, but you pull away because you don't want to move too fast or whatever your reason is, he accepts that, really. He just looks very visibly disappointed, might mope a bit... but no, really, it's fine. You can tell how badly he wants it, and he seems to think every night is going to be The Night based on how quickly he seems to perk up and eagerly latch onto you if you embrace him or kiss him or anything of the sort. But no pressure. It's fine, really.

The pressure of the blatant disappointment is not so bad, really, it can be more amusing than anything, but it gets significantly worse after you actually do sleep with him for the first time, because he gets hooked like some sort of drug. And consequently, without even realizing it himself, he gets much pushier. In a more rational mind, he'd probably at least try to stop himself in his worst moments, but one's self-awareness and inhibition are severely compromised when you have a flood of hormones pumping through your veins, and the object the brain associates with that burst of a chemical high right in front of you, complete with visual stimuli. He's still not forceful, of course, just... encouraging. Touchy. Can't get behind closed doors for more than a few moments without pulling you close and holding onto you while you two lay on a couch or bed or whatever at the end of the day, just like you always have, just much more sensual with the places being grabbed and the not-so-subtle tugging on your clothes. If you actually want it, it's rather cute, always strikes you with the imagery of an eager puppy wagging its tail or the like.

But you don't have to, and if you aren't feeling it or something, that's fine... he'll be really sad, but that's fine. Maybe you'll feel like it again in an hour or so. He'll be sure to check. But if not, that's fine... he's just going to be even more sad. And quiet. And mopey. Blatantly so, such a contrast to his usual self you can't not notice it. It makes you feel a bit guilty, makes the atmosphere a bit awkward. But hey, if you give in and give him what he wants, he immediately perks right back up.

It's really not a conscious behavior, not something he's ever really stopped to think about, it's just something he sort of does without ever really thinking about it or how manipulative it is. If you ever point it out to him, he'd feel awful about it and try to stop himself from subconsciously engaging in that behavior... which will last about a week or so.

What is intimacy with them like? What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Poor baby is a total virgin. He won't admit to it unprompted, but it's kind of obvious, and he'll be (albeit sheepishly) honest if you asked. He's incredibly nervous, but also very eager, hands that tremble yet rush to pull everything off of you and run over your bare skin with intense fixation. He pays a lot of attention to you and your reactions, at least in the beginning, and is very afraid of accidentally hurting you or something.

Oral fixation

Kaveh is a very simple boy, he gets off to knowing he's getting you off. He likes making you feel good. He quickly discovers that he really likes having his head between your legs. Loves the way you squirm and moan and fuck it feels so good when you lace your fingers in his hair and pull, when you clamp your thighs down on either side of his head. It gives him such a rush, a sense of pride and excitement at the same time. He can spend literal hours like that, and likes to just do it at random. Expect to be often pushed against the wall when you're home, any of your whining about how you were cleaning or working on something soon replaced by noises of pleasure you can't restrain when he drops down and buries his tongue inside you. He keeps insisting that you sit on his face -- yes he can breathe, don't worry, and even if he can't, he'll be pretty content if that's how he goes anyway, doing what he loves.

It goes both ways, though, not just on the receiving end. If you go to reciprocate, he'll be in total, sheer bliss. He starts off trying to be cautious and worries about your comfort, but quickly gets lost in the feeling, grabbing you by your skull and pulling your head down, jerking your face up and down like a toy until he cums down your throat. Of course, after he does, he'll be apologizing for it over and over, but if you reassure him it's fine, he might just lose inhibition and control like that more readily in the future.

Praise

This probably doesn't even qualify as a kink for him, it's more like a need. He desperately needs you to tell him that he's doing a good job. Moans and other such noises are very nice on their own, but specific verbal praise is very much appreciated. Tell him it feels good, that he's good, that you love him, that you love his cock inside you, that you need him and want him and will never ever leave him. He eats up any positive words you say, depends on them even. It's partially an emotional thing of course, but it also makes him cum that much faster, each word of praise about how good it feels like an electric shock of pleasure.

Oh, and if the phrase "good boy" leaves your mouth, his soul might actually leave his body and ascend right then and there.

Marking

He discovers this because he has a tendency to get rougher than he realizes in the heat of the moment. He'll get more intense halfway in, start thrusting harder and gripping more firmly, nails digging in and even, without consciously intending to, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. Only after it's over does he start sputtering all wide-eyed because he sees the marks his actions have left across your skin, stammering out an apology and asking if you're hurt or need something and why is hot, why does it make him feel weird. What is this? This weird feeling, he feels so bad about having done it, and yet, it's... kind of nice...

If you don't mind it, maybe just maybe he can do it again... the thought of which makes him nearly hard again already. He finds himself tracing a finger over the indents of his teeth in your flesh, over the hickeys and scratches... he still feels guilty, but provided you don't seem upset, he finds himself sort of attracted to it. It feels nice, in a way, like it's marking something as his own, makes him feel a sort of prideful swelling feeling that also very much correlates to making his cock twitch. Like he's writing his name on you with each mark. Or, hey, maybe he could quite literally do that instead...

He grows a fast affinity for any sort of marking on you, be it scratches, bites, hickeys, actual writing, or even just cumshots on your face and back. It's rather cute how he still feels guilty about it, mumbles out an apology for it, but it's very evident that he's enjoying it nonetheless.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them? What are they like as a parent?

He'd prefer to be financially stable first, of course, but yes actually, very strongly so. He really likes the thought of eventually having a family, likes to picture it in his head. Just you, him, a bunch of kids, maybe you guys could get a dog or a cat or something, in a nice but modest house, living a peaceful, happy, simplistic life... it's a nice thought. He knows it's a bit embarrassing to be dreaming of stuff like that with someone he doesn't know that well, so he tries to refrain, but the thoughts seep in nonetheless.

It wouldn't be something that would practically, actually happen, though, until later stages, if you've finally accepted him, most likely via an "accident" wherein he forgot (or rather, tells himself he forgot) to wear protection, and one thing leads to another. Granted, he probably won't actually make it to the point of financial stability before it does, but... hey, having love and hope is what matters, right? Sure, maybe it'll be a struggle, but you'll manage... probably.

On the bright side, he's actually a very good father, one of the best you could have. Very caring and loving, and highly involved in every aspect of the kid's life. He's always trying to take care of tasks for you to "give you a break," wants the full Parent Experience™ -- which is rather endearing, seeing as you know a lot of men tend to push the boring or annoying or tedious tasks off on the mother, but Kaveh gladly helps you with a smile on his face and enthusiasm in every second.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

It would be a stretch to call it that, largely because he doesn't really intend it that way. But if you happen to trigger his anxieties when he's already in one of his worst moments, where he becomes more forceful and irrational out of paranoia or panic, the solution his mind comes up with for the issue of your discontentment is to make you feel good. Orgasms trigger a critical part of a bonding process (he remembers learning that in some mandatory class years ago), and you can't have room for too many bad thoughts when your mind is completely consumed by pleasure.

As always, he's not going to force you, of course not, he's just a little more pushy than usual, talks fast enough you can't get a word in, hands on your shoulders with a firm grip and an even firmer push as you get quickly guided into the bed (not forced! If you really didn't want it, you could always shove back), pushed down onto your back. A hand held over your mouth, should you try to talk, not because he's trying to prevent you from getting a word in, but because you're going to get yourself more worked up and distressed if he lets you talk. Just... just calm down, okay? Just let me handle it...

You have the opportunity to say no, despite the crushing grip and frantic voice and the ominous intensity of his stare. Looming over you, light from the hallway casting a shadow over his face that makes you feel uneasy. But you know he wouldn't hurt you, he's sure of that, so if you really wanted something else, you'd just tell him. Your stillness and quietness and wide eyes are an unspoken form of permission in and of themselves. You're clearly in recognition of your own distress and need for him to help you, and he'll do his best to make you feel good, which will in turn make you feel better and relax. Rather, maybe just keep going until you eventually pass out. Get the negative emotions out of you so that you'll be back to normal in the morning... and if not, he can just keep going then, too.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

If you ask, he'll say something really sappy like your eyes or your smile. Which is true, but he also likes all the soft squishy parts. Thighs, chest, anything he can rest his head on after a really long day and blissfully relax on. It's probably the closest thing on earth to what heaven feels like, he thinks. There's something comforting about the soft warmth that just melts his anxieties and stress away. Sometimes, if he's been dealing with a particularly disagreeable or demanding client or been pushed around all day, he just comes home at the end of the day silently sulking, makes a beeline over towards you, flops down and stuffs his face into your chest without a word.

But going back to his affinity for your eyes, over the course of his career, he's become somewhat familiar with certain stones and metals often inlaid into more ornate or sacred works of architecture, and he will definitely at some point get you some form of necklace or bracelet or the like with some stone or metal in it that matches the color of your eyes. He just puts a lot of effort into trying to be classically romantic like that, which is cute at least.

#alhthm staring up at the ceiling laying in bed at night trying to ignore the sounds before just sighing and putting the earpieces in #hes a real one for allowing it though ty alhthm #yandere genshin impact

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greenishghostey · 1 year

Text

The Gang's All Here

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Your friends had told you on several occasions that still having stuffed animals on your bed at twenty years old would be a boner killer for your boyfriend. Luckily, your boyfriend made up elves and orcs on the regular. Some stuffed animals weren't gonna scare him off so easily.

Word Count: 4,979 (2,200 of this is the smut, im sorry)

Warnings: 18+ content MDNI, graphic smut, p in v, protected sex, face sitting/riding, enthusiastic pussy eating, fluffy smut, sort of sub!Eddie, extensive dirty talk, this guy cannot shut up ever, established relationship, enthusiastic consent (everyone's having a grand ol' time), a lot of affection, the stuffed animals don't watch, I think that's all please let me know if I missed anything!

Author's Note: Hi everyone, I wrote fluffy filthy again! This came from me seeing one of those Eddie + text post pictures saying, "she let me hit because I was polite to her squishmallows". That is why this exists. Please enjoy because this was so much fun to write! Also, I know that this definitely isn't an original idea, I think I've read fics similar to this but can't think of the exact ones right now. But, I know they're out there. DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY WORK

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Being 20 years old and still living with your parents in the sleepy town of Hawkins wasn’t anything to sniff at. Some people have to work a little after high school before packing up and moving anywhere else. It also helped that you had a boyfriend who was on his third try at senior year. He was a pretty cool reason to stick around your dull hometown. Eddie made it all a bit more colourful.

You and Eddie had been dating for a few months. You had been friendly in high school, but then he started flirting with you when he came into the grocery store. Eddie was a smooth talker when he wanted to be, and it had worked on you. He had knocked over a candy bar rack at your register but also had cleaned it all up. The sweetheart that he was.

Your relationship was great. It was adorable. It was intimate. It was healthy. You guys were best friends and told each other every little thing, regardless of how insignificant it may seem. Eddie told you about his passion for writing and about his family. You told him about your future plans beyond Hawkins - him hopefully being included - and your past and present knitting projects. He wanted a burgundy hat and scarf set for his birthday. A bobble hat was preferred - he wasn’t sure if those were hard to make, so he wasn’t too picky.

However, there was one thing that you had kept from Eddie. You had worked pretty hard to hide away this tiny part of yourself whenever he came to your house. Shoving the incriminating objects into a box at the back of your closet, even though it pained you to do so.

It was embarrassing to be 20 years old and still have a beloved little group of stuffed animals perched on your bed. Well, that’s what your friends had told you anyway. No guy would want to fuck a girl while a fluffy lizard, Reggie, from the Indianapolis zoo, is staring at him.

In addition to little Reg, there were three others. Woolia, a fleecy sheep that you got on your third birthday. Jules, a light blue dolphin with big shiny eyes. Finally, there was Mimi, a fluffy white unicorn that had been with you since birth.

The soft animals had been with you through thick and thin for the majority of your life. First days of school, homework meltdowns, the day you figured out what boys were. All of the essential milestones had been witnessed by their little plastic eyes. They were as much your family as your parents were.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to let Eddie know about them in any capacity. Hiding them away was a tedious task. If Eddie said he would pick you up from work, you’d shove them in the box before you left for your shift. If Eddie stopped by, you’d tell him you had to tidy your room before he could come in. He always laughed and insisted that he would be fine if your room were like a bomb site. He was too modest for his own good, but he still wasn’t seeing your fluffy little secrets.

You had just dragged yourself home from a, quite frankly, hellish evening shift. Your shift was supposed to finish at 9, but your manager had bitched at you enough to make you stay for an extra hour. Fridays from 5-8 were discount hours and the time frame when everyone came to buy their weekend booze. Older people were horrendous when their favourite beer brand was out of stock - like you had personally gone to the trouble of buying every pallet of the dishwater piss just to be annoying.

There was some Chinese takeout in the microwave for you since your parents had headed off to their respective night shifts at the hospital. You balanced two boxes - sesame chicken and chow mein - with a can of Pepsi in your arms as you dashed up the stairs to your bedroom. Fresh pyjamas were waiting for you, Eddie had lent you his copy of Fellowship of The Ring, and you were so ready to turn your brain off and-

“Honey, you’re home!” The chipper voice almost made you drop everything. A chill ran down your spine, and, honestly, you felt like you were going to start eroding away into the atmosphere from humiliation. Eddie was lounging on your bed, his waves splayed over your pillows, and soft animals moved carefully to be at his sides - two on each side, making sure no one felt left out. “What you got in the boxes? And can we share?”

You stood at the foot of your bed, taking in the weirdly domestic image in front of you, “why are you here?” you asked, voice sounding distant.

Eddie’s brows furrowed, and he began to sit up, “Should’ve asked first, knew I should’ve. Sorry, just thought it would be all romantic and shit, ya know.” He mumbled. Eddie looked very dejected. Had he overstepped a boundary? Did you want your alone time? God, he could be so dumb sometimes when it came to you.

Shaking your head, you moved to put down the takeout boxes and your bag, “No, no. Don’t worry,” you smiled, patting his thigh as you passed him, “just wasn’t expecting to see you all comfortable and cosy there with - with all that.”

“I am pretty comfy. These lil guys kept me company until you got back.” Eddie beamed, practically melting into your sheets and gesturing to your stuffed animals. Did he like them? He didn’t think it was weird that you still had them. Your expression showed that your mind was running a mile a minute when you really should be starting to relax. He knew that evening shifts were the pits for you. “How come I’ve never met the gang before?”

“The gang?” You snorted, pulling off your sports jacket and throwing it on your clothes chair, “I just thought it was a little kiddy to still have stuffed animals on my bed. Was worried you’d - I dunno.”

“Worried I’d what? You know who you’re talking to?” Eddie raised his eyebrows, fixing you with a look that made you squirm, “some fluffy little secrets aren’t gonna scare me off, promise.”

“You sure you don’t think they’re weird?” Your voice wasn’t more than a mumble as you sat down beside him on the bed, “the girls said they’re kind of a boner killer.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, and he started to wriggle his way over to you to lay his head in your lap. When he was in this type of mood - a big softie mood - you had to wonder why you thought he’d care about some stuffed toys. Those thoughts didn’t soothe your anxiety entirely, though; you would need to hear the confirmation from him - potentially in writing, for your own sanity. His big, molasses eyes stared up at you with a determined look. God, he was going to monologue in a minute, and it was going to be correct, and you would feel all mushy.

“I want names, place of origin, and lore if you got any,” Eddie stated, counting on each of his fingers to really hammer in his point and make it clear that he was interested. It warmed your heart in a way you hadn’t felt since your first date with him. Of course, the guy warmed your very soul on a near-daily basis. But when he showed just how much he cared, it made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire. “We’re starting with the sheep. Obviously. Give me the deets.” He picked up Woolia and placed her on his chest, arranging her hooves properly.

You couldn’t fight back the grin that spread from ear to ear. Your fingers gently carded through Eddie’s hair as you introduced him to the ‘gang’ “This is Woolia.”

Eddie barked out a laugh at the name, not in malice but in a combination of pride and pleasant surprise, “I never knew you were so creative, babe.”

“Shut up. Do you want the full run down or not?” You teased, flickering his forehead lightly until he stopped laughing. “As I was saying, I’ve had Woolia since I was 3. My grandma got her for me when she went to Wyoming.”

“A Wyomingite? Christ, it’s a good thing she’s cute.” Eddie grimaced, moving the small sheep from his chest and putting her back in her original place. He was so careful with her - you usually squished her in your sleep and woke up with her under your tailbone. “Green gecko dude next.”

Reggie was whisked from his spot and placed onto Eddie’s chest, now the introduction stage for your stuffed animals. You had been so concerned about being embarrassed if Eddie ever caught wind of them. Yet here he was, demanding all information on each of them individually.

“This is Reggie, short for Reginald Von Scales II,” you were interrupted by yet another loud chuckle from Eddie. He was having the time of his life - he might have to start asking you to help with character names for this campaign. “Yeah, I’m hilarious, I know. Anyway, I got Reggie when I was eight and went to the big zoo in Indianapolis with my parents. All the stuffed animals in the gift shop were begging to be taken home. My dad said since I was good, I could get anyone I wanted. Reggie was hidden at the back of a shelf, and I knew I had to get him when I saw him.”

Talking about the origins of these soft creatures was nostalgic and brought a warmness to your body that was relaxing. So many great memories were linked to the toys, and now you’d have a new one with Eddie there.

“Hey, he’s kinda like me! You could’ve had your pick of guys around here, but you chose little ol’ me.” Eddie enthused. He blinked his eyelashes up at you and wiggled his eyebrows - screw Woolia; it was a good thing he was cute. “You got me from the very, very back of the man shelf. Like, you must have been digging for some weird shit to get - well, this.” He gestured to himself.

Your gaze softened. He wasn’t “weird shit”. He wasn’t just any guy. Sure, he was pushed to the back of the line when it came to discussing eligible bachelors around Hawkins, but he was all yours now. That’s all that mattered. “I’ve got specific, immaculate taste, and I’ll be damned if it wasn’t being met.” You stated matter of factly.

“Aw, you always know how to make a dude swoon.” Eddie sighed dreamily. Christ, he was a mushy idiot. If anyone saw him like this, his reputation would be in the toilet. “Reggie is the running for the favourite. Let’s see what blue boy here can bring to the table.” Eddie made the switch between Reggie and Jules, the extra soft dolphin.

“Jules is just… Jules. Got both boy and girl vibes, if I’m honest.” You explained, shrugging at Eddie, who nodded in understanding, “Got them in a thrift store with my mom when I was five, I think? Another case of a toy sitting on a shelf and me deciding to call forever dibs.”

A giddy smirk appeared on Eddie’s face, “you’ve got a thing for picking up strays, huh?” He was wiggling his eyebrows again, so you flicked his forehead again.

“Stop acting like you’re some flea-infested cat. I’ll get mad.” You huffed, trying your best to sound genuinely stern with him, but it definitely didn’t work. You ran your thumb across his knuckles as he started poking Jules’ squishy head.

Eddie took hold of your offered hand and kissed the back of it, “fine, I’ll quit bad-mouthing your man.”

“Thank you very much. Now, onto Mimi.”

“I did save the unicorn for last,” You knew that. If there was anything to do with the high fantasy genre, Eddie would be all over it. Even the pretty magic horses.

“She is the oldest of the bunch. Been perched by those pillows since before I can remember.” You informed, fixing a stray tuft of hair on her bright mane. “My mom has a ton of photos of me carrying her around everywhere.”

Eddie looked at the unicorn toy with a distinct fondness, a soft smile and an even softer gaze.

“What’s got you all smiley?”

“Nothin’, that’s just really sweet, is all. Mimi’s had your back forever.” You didn’t know if you wanted to kiss or smother him with a pillow. He was too fucking adorable when he was like this.

“I guess she has, yeah.” You breathed, running your fingers through Eddie’s hair again, “What do you think of the gang then?”

“Big, big fan. I think Reg is my favourite. He’s got that underdog vibe going on, which I respect.” Eddie leaned over and tried to give the gecko plush a fist bump with his finger.

You weren’t sure what came over you. A warmth had been stirring inside you since Eddie put his head on your lap and was polite to your stuffed animals. He listened closely and handled them like they were valuable to him too. The intimacy of this whole situation was not lost on you. If anything, you were far too aware of it. Eddie loved you and your quirks the same way you loved him and his.

You bit your bottom lip slightly and turned to glance down at the blissful man in your lap.

“C’mere a sec,” Eddie said, leaning up on his elbows. You knew what “c’mere” meant, so you let Eddie place one of his hands on the back of your head, bringing your lips together. The kiss was so sweet. The usual saccharine kisses that the town’s resident satan worshipper was a big fan of laying on you at any opportunity. Eddie’s lips were always soft as his kiss became firmer.

He pulled away by a hair to sit back against your pillows and guided you to straddle his thighs before diving back into your waiting, wanting mouth. You were hungrier for him now. The warmth in your stomach was being fueled as Eddie ran his hands up your thighs to rest of your ass. Feeling the fat and groaning when you shifted your hips - your ass and thighs drove the poor guy mad, and you loved it.

Your eyes opened slightly to make sure you closed your bedroom door but made contact with Mimi's big, black plastic eyes. Quickly, you pulled away from Eddie with heaving pants. It felt like torture to let him go at that moment. The stiff bulge of his cock pressing into your clothed cunt. Yeah, the gang was going to have to move - and move quickly.

“Wait, wait, Eddie,” You panted, clambering off his lap.

“What? You good? Did I get the wrong hole?” Eddie rambled, sitting up abruptly and looking more than a little frazzled. He was all rosy cheeks and glossy eyes, and he had to ruin it by thinking it’d simulated anal. So charming.

“No, you’d know if you’d done that, trust me,” You said as you gently placed your plush friends on the carpet, far away from your bed and facing the wall. It wasn’t a comfortable position, but they would have to deal with it while you rode your boyfriend until he screamed.

“Ah. You don’t want an audience, I gotcha,” Eddie nodded, winking at you from his spot on your bed. Satisfied with the gang’s relocation, you turned back to Eddie, pulling off your work shirt and getting to work on your jeans.

Eddie quickly got the hint and nearly ripped his baseball tee while trying to get it over his head fast enough. His belt was launched somewhere in your room as he opened his arms to welcome you back onto his lap. Your hungry mouth again devoured his in a wet kiss, full of groans and rapid breaths. Eddie made quick work on your bra, having become intimately acquainted with this particular nude one. It was an old faithful that you didn’t want him to see as much as he did, but that’s just how getting naked seemed to go for you both.

You threw yourself onto the mattress beside Eddie and started to claw at your jeans to get them off. Eddie followed suit as you were both in a tangle of legs and denim, fidgeting desperately to get that glorious skin-to-skin contact.

Once down to your underwear, you grabbed Eddie’s head and pulled him in so you could lick, kiss and nibble at his pulse point. He really loved it when you got grabby and roughed him up a little. The lack of control over your own strength had his cock twitching in his boxers.

“Can we do that thing, please?” You sighed, running your fingers up and down Eddie’s chest. Fuck, you were sweating and close to humping your cunt into Eddie’s erection - chasing friction that only he could give you.

Eddie moaned when your fingertips grazed his nipples, his darkened eyes struggling to say open, “Which one? There’s a couple. We can do anything you want, babe.” You could punch him, kick him or rip his hair out right now and he’d be so cool with it.

Eddie was finally getting to experience heaven. The god squad of Hawkins would be so jealous of him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled him onto his back with a bounce, pinning him and shooting him a toothy grin.

“Me riding you. Everywhere. Face, cock. Sound like a plan?” You chirped, wiggling your hips how he liked it. Faking some innocence in the moment was too fun to pass up. Plus, riling Eddie up was a surefire way to make him lose his mind in the best ways.

Eddie nodded so fast he almost gave himself whiplash, “Amazing idea. God, my lady’s so smart.” He grabbed the backs of your thighs and pulled you towards his head while he shifted his body down the bed. Eating your cunt was one of Eddie’s favourite pastimes, but it was so much better when you rode his face and used him to get yourself off.

You had forgotten to pull your panties off before straddling your boyfriend’s head. Usually, this would have led to you fiddling and contorting yourself to get them off.

Not today, though. Eddie just grabbed the lace trim, yanked them to the side, so they bit into your ass cheek and shoved his face into your dripping cunt.

“Fuck yes, thank you,” Eddie groaned before licking and sucking your clit. He was like a man starved as he groped and massaged your ass, making sure you wouldn’t hold back on him.

You let your head lull back as your mouth opened in a silent moan, your hips beginning to grind and ride his full lips and hot tongue. The wet, sloppy sounds of Eddie, essentially making out with your hole and clit brought a feral smile to your face. God, he always made you smile so big that your face hurt in the best way.

Eddie started shaking his head between your legs, his tongue circling your hole before returning to flicking your puffy, needy clit.

“Still can’t believe you let me do this,” Eddie sighed, saliva and your wet covering his flushed lips, “‘m I making you feel good, sweetheart?”

Your moans were getting louder and more hoarse as Eddie started to move your hips himself, urging you to use him. You loved when he talked like that - his tongue, his lips, his voice. His mouth was everything.

“Y-Yes, yes. You really want me to drench your pretty face, huh?” You giggled, sweet sighs of ecstasy huffing from your throat. Eddie whined while his tongue fucked you. “Pretty, pretty boy - fuck, please.”

“Shit - yeah, you taste fucking incredible. Gimme it all, babe, ah fuck.”

Eddie doubled down his efforts. Straining his neck a little to fuck up into you with more force and precision. You were leaking down his chin and making yourself all sticky. A blissful state, full of love and affection. Eddie huffed a laugh on your cunt as he saw the dreamy smirk on your lips.

Groaning, whining, cursing. You two must have sounded like animals in heat as the springs in your mattress started to bounce and squeak. The room was that familiar warm - cosy, somewhat comfortable sweat and the smell of sex.

Eddie forced your cunt down more onto his face. He would gladly suffocate right then and there. He needed your cum before you rode him because he knew he wouldn’t last long. Eddie liked the mess; it was filthy and made him feel so alive. But the lady has to finish first, and then you keep going until she nearly rips your damn head off. Eddie got that tip from a magazine one time.

“Christ, you’re so so good - fuck, Eddie, your mouth!” You growled. You tended to make much deeper sounds when you were close. Eddie felt like he was going to blow his load in his boxers. “Just a little m-more.”

“Uh huh, uh huh,” Eddie chanted wetly, “Please - soak my pretty face.”

That did it.

Your hands knotted further into Eddie’s sweaty hair and gripped it like a lifeline as you wailed your release. He always liked when you pulled his hair. It made his eyes roll back in such a beautiful way. That was no different now. Big brown eyes were glazed over as they rolled into Eddie’s skull; you could feel a smug smile on his face. You gave him all of you, just like he wanted. You were the fucking best.

You moved down Eddie’s torso in panting silence to straddle him again. You couldn’t wait for him to get his boxers off entirely, so you pulled them down enough for his swollen cock to slap against his stomach. It had become a talent of yours to make quick yet effective work of getting a condom on. Eddie fucking you raw was going to be on the table at some point, just not tonight. Too risky.

Fuck, he felt like he was going to scream or melt or just-

There was a distinct, sloppy slap. Followed by two even louder cries of pleasure. You knew that Eddie would slip inside you without any resistance. You needed him too much.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re spoiling me today.” Eddie giggled, staring up at you through heavy lids. “Do I get all this because I was friendly with the gang?” He settled back into your pillows and basked in the warm embrace of your cunt.

You mewled at the feeling of being so full - it may have sounded shallow, but you loved his cock so goddamn much. “You were just so damn polite to ‘em. It’s hot seeing you be all sweet and caring.”

“They’re important to you, ‘course I’m gonna be polite.” Eddie laughed. “They’ve taken care of you for ages, and now it’s my job to help out, right?” He smoothed his thumbs across your hips.

“Eddie…” you sighed, caressing his face. His dreamy, beautiful, smug face. He was just so good to you and to the world. It always hurt that you were one of the few who truly understood that he had a heart of gold, in addition to being a weirdo. But he was your weirdo. “Love ya, Munson.”

After your tooth-rotting words reached his ears, you started to grind down onto his stiff length. Eddie couldn’t do much, but he groaned in agreement with you. He never knew how good being ridden could feel without any bouncing. Sure, he adored when you bounced on his cock, chasing your high and fueling his, but there was a sensuality to the circle of your hips. The sight of you making his cock massage your g-spot was one he wanted to be tattooed behind his eyelids.

“How you doing down there, sweetheart?” You smiled, alternating between bouncing and swivelling. He had to give him some form of reward, “please soak my face,” that was such a good line. Damn, he was good.

Eddie let out a shaky groan and stared at where his cock disappeared into your cunt. When you called him sweetheart, he didn’t know what to do with himself. The flush that covered his upper body was rosy and fiery. “Fabulous as always.” He chuckled and shot you a bright grin. “I really don’t tell you enough how much I love your pussy. And she loves me.”

“You’re so weird,” You snorted, running your hands through the sparse hair on his chest. “She’s gonna care really good care you.”

Eddie started to wonder if god finally decided to smile down on him as you started to ride him properly. The wet squelch of fucking filled his ears alongside your beautiful laughs and moans. He could see the slick from your cunt on his throbbing cock as you moved. Watching you in your element, so happy, on top of him, was hypnotic. Eddie would never cease to be mesmerised by you and your body. He began to thrust his hips up to meet your carefully curated rhythm.

Your head fell back, and your jaw swung open when you met at the perfect angle, at the perfect time. “Oh. My god - yeah, yes, Ed-” you called out. You were so happy that both of your parents had taken night shifts.

Eddie’s thrust began more forceful, faster, as he moved to push his feet into your mattress for leverage. He was a sweaty, whining mess under you, but he was still going to try and do a little bit of the work. “Uh huh, use me. Fuck, fucking shit - cum on me again.” He was rambling like a horny maniac, smiling like one too. He was having the time of his life. A pretty lady who loved him and had cute stuffed animals was riding him until he wanted to scream. What more could a dude ask for?

“Don’t stop - don’t stop talking. Fuck.” Yeah, you were losing your mind. Sex with Eddie always came with a satisfaction guarantee, but it was his dirty mouth that sealed the deal for you most of the time. “Does my pussy feel good?”

The harsh slapping of his balls hitting your ass richoted off the walls. Eddie wasn’t going to be lasting much longer by any means. “So - so good. She’s leaking all over me, such a good girl.”

Now he was just trying to be annoying. It was working very well.

“Am I a good girl too?” You groaned, lightly gripping Eddie’s jaw so he could look you in the eye. The pace of your fucking had reached its peak. How you were still speaking in sentences was a mystery. Eddie was hitting your g-spot at the best angle and slipping deeper inside you every time you slammed your hips down.

“Yeah, f-fuck. But, you’re a woman too.” Eddie slurred, loving the feeling of you keeping his eyes fixed on you. His left hand moved between you to rub your swollen clit in fast circles. Again, sensuality is what really did it for him. He would call you a good girl until he was blue in the face. But it was the fact that you were a full woman that warmed his blood - and his heart. All soft body, whispy hair everywhere, and markings on your skin showing how you’d grown into the person he got to love. “Mine,” he whined the word like prayer.

“‘M your woman, huh?” This was going to be over soon, but you needed a few more words out of him. “Then you’re my man, all mine.” You leaned down to whisper straight into his ear, followed by a long lick up the column of his throat - tasting the salty sweat dripping off of him.

“Oh, oh god - yeah, ‘m yours, baby.” Eddie grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into a scolding kiss. All tongue and saliva, but neither of you cared. This is always how it went. Right when you were both on the precipice of orgasm, start making out furiously. His cock was pounding into you, trying to mould your puffy walls to the shape of him. Eddie could feel his heart hammering and his eyes rolling back - he was almost there and so were you.

“All. Yours.” Eddie punctuated each word with a hard, impossibly deep thrust. Then he was a goner. Shooting ropes of cum into the condom and moaned like a girl in the porn he watched sometimes.

You could feel the pulsing heat of him in your stomach. His nimble fingers were still focused on your clit. He always knew how to make you melt. So, melt you did. The world exploded into white, and you screamed into Eddie’s neck as your orgasm shook your body.

The aftershocks of bliss left you both shaky and panting like you had run a marathon. You had already collapsed on Eddie’s chest as he started rubbing your scalp with his calloused fingers - the added roughness provided a good scratch. Your heart was hammering like his, each keeping pace with the other in the afterglow of that near-religious experience. You snuggled into his touch and trailed your fingers down the bridge of his nose, feeling his beauty and memorising the dips and peaks of his face - for what may have been the hundredth time.

Eddie shifted to catch your wandering hand and covered it in small pecks up to your wrist. “So, you got any more members of the gang to introduce? I’d love an audience with a penguin if I’m being honest.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #fic #smut #fluff #my writing #yeah this is actual filthy #or at least the best im capable of at the moment #enjoy!!!

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writing-in-the-impala · 6 months

Text

Secret Smokes (Part 4)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: 3307

A/N: I know I always say I love you all, but I am blown away by all your support on each chapter. Comments are appreciated I love hearing your thoughts, it helps guide me in what direction to take the story! Anyway get ready we're starting to get a bit angsty in this chapter....

| SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 4, Next Chapter

Over the weekend you and the twins did manage to go to Hogsmeade you didn't really need anything for your prank but it was nice to get out of Hogwarts for a bit. You walked around and browsed the shops, making a stop at Honeydukes for some tiny black pepper imps, fragile sugar-spun quills and exploding bonbons. The twins assured you all of this would be useful for future pranks. Before heading back to the castle Fred suggested a quick stop at the Three Broom Sticks and all of you thought it was a great idea. You sat down at a corner table that you loved as it gave you a view of the whole place, you could gossip about all the people there especially teachers. After ordering your drinks you saw a familiar face walk in "Guys looks it's Lupin with the library lady." Fred mentioned.

"Irma Pince?" You questioned maybe slightly too loudly as you watched them walk in, at this moment Lupin's eyes met yours and he gave you a gentle, distant, smile to acknowledge your presence. He held the door for her like a gentleman, pulled the chair out for her before sitting down, very old fashioned you thought. Your eyes didn't leave them until George began to speak again.

"Do you think they're on a date?" George asked.

"Surely not." You answered too quickly.

"What if they know about our prank." You whispered.

"Even if they did why would they out of all people meet here just them to discuss it." George questioned you.

"Maybe Lupin found out and he wants to warn her." You tried to think of any reason apart form a date why he would bring her here.

"Find out from who? There's no chance. It's definitely a date." Fred stated.

"Y/N is just jealous." George stated.

"Who doesn't have the hots for Lupin? We're all jealous." Fred said jokingly.

Your eyes were glued to the pair as Lupin ordered a drink for the two of them, your eyes once again met his and you immediately diverted your gaze to the glass in front of you. "I think we should make the prank bigger." You blurted out.

"Now you're talking. What are you thinking?" Fred asked.

"I don't know, we hex the whole library somehow make everyone who entered there regret it." You didn't know where this sudden hate and anger towards the library came from but the twins enjoyed scheming and you began devising a plan to make it a better, bigger prank. You kept gazing towards Lupin throughout the conversation watching his interaction, he seemed happy, they spent the whole time chatting or maybe discussing. He was dressed more casually then usual, in a shirt and sweater over it but he didn't looks like he dressed up just like he wanted to be more comfortable, you hated yourself for analysing him so much but you struggled to look away. When you were leaving you didn't notice him looking at you the same way and thinking the same thoughts about you.

The weekend ended a bit too quickly and you were back to sitting in classrooms all day waiting for the day to finish, you nearly forgot about your extra DADA lesson in the afternoon but Lupin sent you an owl during breakfast with a reminder. You made your way to his class after a very boring positions lesson with conflicted feelings, you didn't want to do extra lessons but at least it was with him. You knocked on the door gently and heard a soft "come in" from inside. All the desks were already moved against the wall leaving a large open space, Lupin was sitting at his desk at the front of the room grading some papers it seemed he greeted you with a warm smile. "Glad to see you didn't bail Miss L/N."

"I would've forgotten if it wasn't for your owl if I'm being honest." You admitted.

"How was your weekend?" Lupin asked politely. "Uneventful, it went by quicker than expected. Yours?" Lupin sorted the stack of papers he had putting it to the side. "Mine was pleasant, I had a meeting with Irma Pince I'm trying to get more muggle books introduced into the library taking, inspiration from you actually, I think not only will it help muggle born students feel more at home I think it'll be good for everyone to have some diversity." Great so you caused them to have a date, you thought to yourself.... Or maybe it wasn't a date at all just a professional meeting. "And how's that going?" You asked. "Horribly, she's a stubborn old woman stuck in her ways. But I think with a little more convincing I might succeed. We'll see." He said honestly.

"So how does this work? Do you give me spells to practice I do them and then that's it?" You wanted to change the topic. "I thought we'd focus on your weaknesses," Lupin stood up and walked in front of the desk leaning on it. His tie was loose and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. "I am aware that the practical side is a weakness of yours now two core thing I want to cover with you before Christmas is your Patronus charm and your defensive spells, starting with the latter."

Lupin began by turning on the record player with music he then began teaching you the hand movements and starting to talk to you about posture and how you should be acting during casting these spells, at moments he got quite close to you even once holding your arm from behind to help you figure out the movement, the feeling of his chest pressed against your back and his arm on your hand send shivers through you making you feel a bit hot and bothered. By the end of your hour with Lupin you wanted to stay in the room keep going because you were enjoying yourself and the fun dynamic. He was gentle and helpful and really cared about helping you. He expressed that these spells aren't just for your exams but rather to protect you navigating the wizarding world. After the hour was up you thanked Lupin for the lesson and left the room with a quick "see you later."

After dinner you headed straight for the bridge to meet Lupin, he wasn't there when you arrived and you began to think he won't show today but he did walking up with his hand in his trouser pockets and a soft look on his face. "You know Y/N you don't have to come here to meet me everyday especially after I've just forced you to spend some of your evening with my in my classroom." He stood next to you leaning over the side but looking at you, not lighting a cigarette. "You make it sound like it's torture to spend time with you profesor." He laughed at your comment. "Besides this isn't like spending time with a teacher this is Lupin not the same guy who teaches DADA." You continued. "How so? What's the big difference?" He pushed.

"Well this guy encourages bad behaviour, he's a good laugh, he encouraged me to actually care about school." You began. "That last one sounds like something a teacher would do." Lupin interrupted.

"That's true, but it's different. Can I tell you something honestly?" You asked vulnerable and Lupin gave you a go on nod. "I see you, as in you who I meet right here as someone I can trust and call a good friend. I feel like your someone I can really trust in, don't get me wrong I have friends but I feel like you understand me in a different way, you understand everything I struggled with over the last few years at Hogwarts the isolation, the-"

"Y/N..." Lupin interrupted. "Sorry I got a bit too deep, I probably shouldn't have said anything." You said in embarrassment. "No Y/N, I appreciate every word. And I appreciate your honesty, if we're both being honest right now I agree completely. It's my first time teaching here and it's weird all my old teachers are now my colleagues and now I'm the old guy do you know how soul crushing that is? I felt so alone moving here all my friends have turned into people I can only see on weekends as I'm stuck on school grounds. But you were someone who decided to speak to me like a human not like a profesor or like a past student and it was so refreshing. Although I don't think I've ever smoked this much in my life." He laughed to himself. "We're both losers." You replied laughing. "What are your friends like?" You asked honestly. Lupin began telling you about Harry's parents and about Sirius Black and how they were school friends and now they're the most important people in his life. He talked openly about missing them but knowing that working at Hogwarts had given him opportunities he wouldn't have had anywhere else. Around 10pm Lupin checked his watch and realised he's kept you up with his stories past curfew, this was the moment you realised you had a prank to pull so you said goodbye to Lupin and made your way back to see the twins.

The twins were both sitting in the common room on one of the sofas as soon as you walked in they both jumped up. "We've been waiting for you." They said in unison. "You need to stop flirting with boys all night we have work to do Y/N." Fred stated. "Everything is ready we've got Harry's invisibility cloak we just need the map." George reached his arm out and you handed him the map. Around midnight you set off towards the library, once you were inside it was completely empty it was pretty cool to be there in the middle of the night, you straight away began jinxing the books it took a while to do all of them but thinking of new ways you can jinx each book made it a little bit more fun. You were maybe making a bit too much noise as you noticed on the map Filch was walking towards you. The three of you quickly jumped under the cloak of invisibility and went left the library, Filch ran past you and went into the library "Students out of bed." He shouted as he ran into the library but then he saw no one you wanted to laugh but you kept silent as you began to walk back to the Gryffindor dorm rooms. You heard Filch's voice complaining out loud behind you approaching you as your turned the corner, you were moving very slowly as you were trying to stay completely covered as you walked down the corridor. "What's wrong Filch?" You heard a familiar voice coming towards you from the opposite direction.

"Students out of bed profesor, they're hiding in the library." Filch said standing right next to you. Now Lupin was standing so close that if you breathed to loudly you were sure he'd hear. The three of you froze the twins shut their eyes probably to avoid laughing you stood there watching. "Now Filch why would students sneak around at this time of night to go to the library?" Lupin asked amused, it felt like he could see right through the cloak of invisibility.

"I could hear their voices." Filch replied.

"Okay." He looked right where you were standing almost making eye contact with you. "Let go check Filch come on." He said and they walked away from you and you felt like you could finally breathe, you ah the twins practically ran back to the dorm as sons as they were out of sight. When you returned, you began laughing about how you nearly got caught thankful that you didn't.

The next day at lunchtime is when the announcement came about your prank profesor McGonagall was the one to break the news "it has come to our attention that last night a group of students decided to jinx the library, now if anyone knows any information about this we urge you to come forwards..." she began her speech. Throughout the whole speech it felt like Lupin was staring at you and the twins. "Do you think he knows?" You asked them on your way out the hall.

"How could he?" George began. "We were under the cloak the whole time there's no way." Fred finished. You went on with your day and luckily no one knew it was you and the twins who pulled off the prank, every teacher would remind the class after the lesson that the library is closed and to come forward with any information during your DADA lesson you felt like Lupin was acting a bit different you didn't know if your conversation with him last night caused it or if he knew about the prank. During his own speech about how the library is closed it felt like his eyes were glued to you, you were confident he knew somehow. That evening he didn't show up to the bridge, you checked a marauders map and he wasn't in Hogwarts at all you felt wrong checking the map but you wanted to know if he went to the bridge after you left.

The next day after your lessons you had your DADA extra session, you went to the class like last time and just as before when you entered the tables were all moved to the side of the classroom. Lupin was sitting behind his desk as before and looked up to you to greet you "Good afternoon Y/N." He simply said.

"Afternoon Professor." You replied he was wearing his shirt properly buttoned up and his tie all the way up a lot more profesional looking than last time. "Today we'll be working on counter-jinxes as I believe you've already mastered jinxes let's see if you can counter them." He stated pulling out a pile of books onto the table, books from the library... "Luckily we have a lot of jinxed books that some students gracefully prepared for us." He handed you the pile of books. "So you want me to remove the jinxes this feels more like detention than tutoring." You felt annoyed at how he was treating you suddenly. "Why would you get detention unless you were the one who jinxed these books, no I don't want you to remove those jinxes I want you to open the books and use a counter jinx to protect yourself from whatever the books have to offer."

"But how am I meant to do that? I don't even know what will come out of them." You were scared of some of the things that the twins may have made the books do. "That's the point, that's the challenge." Lupin said. "You're not making this easy when I have no idea what to do, all I know is how to remove the jinx all together." You stayed in annoyance. He took a book, opened it and preformed a counter-jinx. "See that easy, now imagine you're in the library and you open a book a jinx comes out how do you defend yourself." He hands you a book and you look at it, it's one that you had jinxed so you knew what to expect and knew what spell to preform. Lupin seemed shocked at how well you did he probably wanted you to fail. "Not many people can think of a specific counter jinx before seeing what the book is jinxed with you know." He said simply. "I'm a faster learner." You replied and Lupin handed you a book on Herbology. "Very well, again." This one you didn't know the jinx so you opened the book slowly but you still didn't manage to use the correct counter jinx and you got completely covered in dirt and leaves. Lupin couldn't hold in his laugh at your state and you laughed along with him. "Okay now the first thing you need to know about counter jinxes-"

"Hold on you just wanted me to get jinxed before you began to teach me?" You questioned. "If you're going to jinx a book at least be able to protect yourself from it." He winked at you after saying it. "I didn't jinx this book." You began to wipe all the dirt off your face and Lupin handed you a tissue. "No but you jinxed that one." He pointed to the first book you opened. "You can't possibly know that."

"All I want to know is why Y/N? Because the way I see it is I tell you I'm trying to get muggle books into the library and that very night you and the Weasley twins go in and jinx every single book. No don't deny it, I was already sure that I sensed you there, and with how you knew what was in that book you provided it. Now believe me I appreciate the commitment to getting every, single, book. However I was doing something to try and help you and instead you decided to completely jeopardise it. If Pince ever finds out you were part of the efforts there will never be a muggle book allowed in the school even less so the library do you understand?" You had never seen Lupin so annoyed.

"Profesor, I'm sorry. I truly am, I don't know if it'll make you feel any better but this had nothing to do with you or Pince. I didn't even consider how this would affect you we just thought it would be funny and a great first prank of the year. We had this planned before, when we saw you in the pub with Pince we thought you had somehow found out and you were warning her and then we decided you couldn't know and that you guys are on a date" Lupin nearly chocked on the cup of tea he was drinking when you said the last part. "Me and her? On a date? Look I've made some odd romantic choices in life but I have some level of standards. Thank you for your apology Y/N, I may have taken it a bit personally especially after our conversation on Monday night, now let's begin before we spend the whole hour talking. So to perform a counter jinx..." There was no more mention of your prank and no more mention of anything personal profesor Lupin mode was on and he was back into teaching you still shared a few moments of laughing and a few jokes especially when you were victim to jinxed books but apart from that it was purely professional. When the lesson finished Lupin informed you that he is cancelling Fridays session as he will be away over the next few days he apologised and you simply replied with, "so no smokes on the bridge?" His facial expression became soft and he gave you a smile. "Unfortunately you'll have to wait until I'm back dear." He winked and then looked mortified with his own words as he opened the door for you it was as if he said that last word by accident he quickly continued with. "Have a lovely rest of the evening Y/N." and that was the last time you saw him for a few days, it was because of the full moon. You had already figured out after the first few months that whenever the full moon was approaching he wouldn't come to the bridge and then after the full moon he would get Snape to cover his lessons. You should've known straight away when he said he sensed you it meant he could smell you or even hear you from a distance that's why he knew that it was you hidden under the cloak of invisibility.

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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naomihatake · 6 months

Text

In search of freedom (Ch. 7)

7. What do you wish for?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ; Chapter 8

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence, tiny bit comfort at the end

Word count: 8,4 k

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I'm glad I could finish the chapter so early and there are some scenes in here that I really loved writing. Also, I want you to pay close attention to the fight Witch has with the fishman. The anime watchers and manga readers that got far enough with One Piece will probably get it faster ;)

I'd be happy to hear your opinions on this chapter. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

"What is your dream?"

While she would've rather expected that question to come from Luffy, the tipsy Zoro by her side, leaned against the mast, seemed to be rather intrigued by her reasons to remain with Luffy.

When she turned her head towards him, one of her suppositions was proved to be right: the stars above shone beautifully, but nothing could compare to the swordsman's brown eyes. In the dark, his dark chocolate irises were swallowed by pupils dark as the depths of the oceans. No. Dark and beautiful as the night sky she teared her gaze away from.

Her silence could've been interpreted in many ways and Zoro might become suspicious, but his already flushed state seemed to swallow everything in. He only looked back at her.

The witch couldn't exactly spot the specific aura of his gaze. He wasn't only flushed because of the alcohol, no. He seemed… soft, even. His shoulders were relaxed and the grip on the empty bottle loosened up.

His question was simply something she didn't expect, as he was always down to earth, similarly to Nami. However, there was a tiny difference — he proudly admitted he wanted to become the strongest swordsman in the world.

"I—," the word left her lips like a mere whisper.

Her determination faltered under the weight of the alcohol. Until that moment, after sharing some ugly parts of her past, his remarks made her laugh and chuckle happily.

"I want to be free."

One simple wish that could have so many connotations.

"I don't see any rope around your wrists."

His voice was like a low rumble coming from the depths of his chest, such a pleasant and soothing sound.

Their eye contact didn't break. Their gazes were locked together and she couldn't bring herself to be mad about it, especially when she was drunk enough to let vulnerable sides of her poor soul see the light of the stars.

Faint, shy, but it was there.

"I want to be free from myself and the expectations everyone has of me," she clarified. "Free from the rules of the world, written or unwritten. Free from the Marines that are now on my tail."

"Why did you become a pirate if you wanted to be free from the Navy?"

"The sea always looked like a place where I could be free," she admitted with a weak voice. The same tiny voice her younger self used to have when dreaming of a future.

Zoro knitted his eyebrows together and blinked, staring at the small beauty mark on her face he just noticed. He seemed deep in thought or rather trying to figure out the meaning of her words.

He was rarely so concentrated outside of critical situations like fights.

"Are you free now, then?"

With a gulp, she shook her head.

"No."

One word. One heavy weight on her soul.

"How do you wanna be free?" came another question from the swordsman.

"I have no clue."

The cage around her was a metaphor. She always felt like iron bars squeezed her tighter and tighter, until she broke down, a situation that occurred only a few times a year and was always hidden from prying eyes.

Realistically, there was no free place in that world. The Marine wasn't by any means as righteous as they wanted to look like and they were certainly not saviors. Of course, there were plenty of pirates that did nothing else but harm everyone and everything they laid eyes on. Some of them had ugly souls, dark and dirtied by greed.

However, there were plenty of people that were so-called pirates and yet never harmed unless they had to protect someone. Like Luffy or Usopp. They never took anyone's life.

Like her father.

She wasn't one of those pirates. The witch has killed people, even if never solely for blood thirst. Or, at least, not yet. She deserved to die, to never see the light of a new day.

A personal justice system — that's what she's always had, that's what she grew to learn about from the crew she left barely a year ago.

Deep down, she knew she would never be free. There was no liberty for a monster.

When she looked at Zoro, she also wanted him to taste freedom on his tongue. Maybe he already knew what that felt like.

If she couldn't find her own freedom, she could settle for protecting her friends' freedom. That would be more than enough, right?

"Aren't you at fault for your own lack of freedom?" Zoro pulled her out of her thoughts.

His question might've sounded as insensitive and accusing, but she was aware the swordsman didn't mean it that way. He always had his own way with words and, unfortunately, he got misinterpreted most of the time.

He was simply stating a probable truth.

Then I suppose I should get rid of my—

No. There was no time to think of such things, even if she was drunk and vulnerable. Admitting that to his face would be shameful of her.

Maybe she wasn't that ready to share secrets yet, was she?

"I most probably am," the witch whispered as she averted her eyes back to the sky splattered with stars. "At the end of the day, I'm the only one taking into account what others say and how they affect me."

She didn't know exactly how to pursue freedom, but she was certain of something else: if that beautiful future stood in front of her, Zoro was probably one of the ways to find out.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch wasn't able to find freedom if she died at that moment, with the blue hand of a fishman gripping at her throat. There was a lingering ache at the crown of her head from when he pushed her against the wall.

Her eyes squeezed shut while life seemed to slip from her hold, the same way her fingers lost their force while clutching onto the fishman's forearm. She had to find a way to get out of there, to breathe, because her lungs were already begging for some oxygen. Her vision was getting blurry and the pain in her entire throat spread like fire through her body.

Maybe it was because of her hyper-aware state, but she could swear the wound on her bicep was bloody again considering the sharp pain shooting through her arm.

No. There was no time to die and beg for forgiveness — and whose forgiveness could she ask for if she stays alive? Exactly. No one's.

The witch didn't know if she breathed in air or it just felt awfully familiar to that sensation, but her lungs suddenly swallowed something fresh and powerful. It ate the pain hungrily, destroying every doubt in her mind the more she thought of her promises, of the corpse of a father who still whispered in her dreams "go find your freedom".

The grip on the fishman's arm grew tighter, stronger, until her nails dug into the scales and penetrated them. Her fingers ached, the skin around her nails scratched harshly by the sharp broken scales. Fresh blood surfaced.

Her eyes opened up slowly, burning with each one of her promises, this time including her own — If I can't find freedom, I'll make it.

Every nerve in her body burnt and she tasted drugs on the tip of her tongue, an addiction threatening to clutch onto her and take control.

Power.

The witch has never been one to love power, to ache for it and yet, there she was, with a devil-like grin growing on her face.

Power.

It ate her alive and she loved that sensation. The steadiness of her heartbeats, the cage of ribs that broke to make place for that overwhelming feeling.

Power will never take control of me.

Her eyes bore holes through the fishman's entire being. There was no need for her revolver when two shining irises had the same effect.

Her vision and mind has never been clearer.

The fishman was struck. A weight settled on his shoulders, pulling him down, doubts flickering in his head.

Claws sank into his eyes, into his face and throat, clutching at his heart, threatening to pull it out of his chest.

The fishman stumbled and dropped her.

His strong grip on her throat left blooming red marks. They were ugly and her neck felt tender, but her nerves didn't register the pain properly because of the adrenaline running through her veins.

The witch immediately took the opportunity, despite the lack of air in her lungs. She crouched down to take her gun, but before she could shoot again, a loud sound got her attention.

The door of the restaurant broke at the floor underneath her when Luffy got thrown right into it by Arlong.

On the side of the stairs where Usopp crawled down was Sanji struggling to get back up after he cracked his back at the harsh contact with a table.

People were hiding under chairs and bars from the fishmen's wrath.

Her anger was fueled by each single detail. One of her shoulders felt light, while the other was heavy. The monster lurking inside her had one eye open — the same one that pushed her to cuss out Mihawk back when Zoro got a cut through his chest. The same monster she wouldn't trade anything for, because wrath has always been her forte.

The small flame of revenge started burning in the pits of her stomach. Steadily. Still vague, easy to control.

She ran down the stairs and passed by Usopp, who was at that moment helping Sanji get on his feet. The witch got out of Baratie, suddenly stopping in her tracks when she saw Arlong standing a few meters in front of her.

That fucker—

Luffy shouted something along the lines of Gum Gum and she knew that was his fight to deal with.

However, it was a fight she didn't know if he would win at that time, considering the way Arlong only turned his head to the side when he got punched in the face by Luffy's fists. The fishman spat blood on the wooden floor while he stepped closer and closer to the Straw Hat.

In a fraction, the punch Luffy received sent him flying in the sails of a boat and he fell down with a thud, grunting. It was stupid of him to provoke Arlong further, but Luffy has never been to give up or let his enemies feel the satisfaction of a victory without a proper fight.

The witch wondered if her captain didn't break a rib or two after being punched and thrown around for so long. He still had the energy to throw his fists into Arlong's face with all he's got, using his rubber arms to attack from meters away.

His Devil Fruit powers were definitely the only reason why he was alive.

But not for much longer.

Arlong muttered something with a growl and once he sank his hand in the water, the witch knew it wasn't going to end well.

The fishman didn't just splash Luffy; no, he soaked the Straw Hat to the bone and the hit with both sea water and brute force got Luffy to the ground. It was his biggest weakness.

The witch's eyes widened when she saw Arlong grabbing at Luffy's shirt and lifting him in the air, opening his mouth to reveal razor-sharp teeth.

Her feet carried her for only a second and she almost shouted out for Luffy out of despair — she would rather be stabbed in the stomach countless times than feel helpless again. Out of instinct, the hand holding the gun raised, aiming at—

"Arlong, wait!"

Nami.

The witch snapped her head towards her friend.

The orange-haired woman stomped her feet and came, leaving the Going Merry behind her. The tank-top she wore exposed a strange old tattoo on her left shoulder. She was clutching tightly onto a thin and long cylinder.

"I have it," she addressed Arlong. "I have the map."

The map.

"I got it for you, just like I said I would."

The witch blinked away the confusion that almost made her hazy and stepped in front of Nami, stopping her from moving forward.

"Nami," the witch knitted her eyebrows together. "What's going on?"

Nami's eyes held no clear emotion besides a flicker of anger.

"Exactly what you knew all along."

It was one of those times when the witch wished her tarot was wrong.

She shook her head, one of her hands gripping at Nami's wrist.

"Nami," the witch squeezed her friend's hand tighter, scared it would slip from between her fingers.

"Let go."

Nami snatched her arm out of the witch's hold and her jaw ticked. She wasn't only annoyed, there had to be more in her eyes.

"You cannot possibly tell me you want to do this," the witch insisted, stepping even closer, until she was one breath away from the navigator.

Their intense gazes clashed together and none of them let the walls fall.

"But here I am, ain't I?" Nami cocked an eyebrow.

When the orange-haired passed by, her shoulder collided harshly with the witch's who was still stuck in place.

No fucking way.

The witch needed time to think, she had to search for some clarification with her tarot cards. She needed more time to read the energy, to figure out the situation, to understand what, where, why and when. Nothing made sense and time passed by so fast she couldn't even process it all.

Luffy was so disoriented he didn't even pour enough force in his hands to get rid of Arlong's grip on the collar of his shirt.

"Nami?" he firmly spoke. "What are you doing?"

"I tried to tell you, Luffy," Nami continued walking towards him. "I was never on Your crew. I only joined up with you so I could steal the map."

"I don't believe that," Luffy denied.

"That's because you only believe what you want to believe. Doesn't make it true."

Nami, for fuck's sake, we both know you're lying—

The witch opened her mouth, ready to argue, to yell from the top of her lungs, but with one glance thrown to Arlong, she stopped. Saying the wrong thing might get Nami in great danger and she might lose credibility in front of him.

"Sister Nami's a loyal member of the Arlong Pirates," Arlong started speaking, pointing with his chin towards the one in question. "She has been for years."

The witch didn't know why she still protected Nami, but she was certainly not going to give up on her friend at that time.

Nami shoved the map in Arlong's nose to get his attention to her — or maybe the witch has gotten to another level of delusion.

"Why waste your time killing a Devil Fruit eater?" Nami reminded the fishman as if it wasn't a death sentence. "Let the sea do it for you."

"Nami, this is too far, cut the crap—" the witch revolted immediately.

Before she could make any step towards Luffy, she was grabbed by the back of her neck and launched into the wall of Baratie with sheer force — it was one of Arlong's asshole crewmates. She groaned in pain and squeezed her eyes. The shoulder she fell on sent sharp spikes through the entire left side of her body.

She cussed out, struggling to get back to her feet when Arlong let Luffy drown in the sea. The witch let out a shout of the Straw Hat's name and one of her knees betrayed her, resulting in another unceremonious fall to the ground.

Lucky for her, an arm curled around her front to help her up, a silver ring resting on the finger of the man.

"Luffy fell in the water, go now!" she didn't even wait to be properly raised to her feet to urge Sanji to jump.

Her aching body and the lack of strength wouldn't help her get Luffy out of the sea. She didn't even clearly notice when the cook left her side and jumped into the sea, too caught up in the agitation inside of her. Events passed by her faster than light. All she saw was a discarded shirt.

She wasn't sure because of what powers she managed to walk on the deck, at the edge where the other two should appear from under the water. Her head turned when she recognized Usopp from her peripherals.

"Luffy?" he asked, panic building up as his hands shook.

The witch would have responded if not for the answer to appear right under their noses. Sanji held Luffy tightly by the collar and pushed him on the dock with Usopp's help who dragged him.

The witch extended her hand to bring Sanji on the dock with them and since then, things turned blurry despite her open eyes.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Now the only woman in the crew, the witch sat on the floor in the room that used to be Nami's, her back leaning back against the wooden wall. With eyes devoid of life, she stared up at the ceiling while pulling her knees closer to her chest, once again trying to hide herself from everyone. From everything.

On Nami's bed there was still an inert swordsman and he didn't even flinch when she tentatively said his name after entering the room.

"Fucking dammit," she squeezed her eyes shut.

Nami left. Zoro was unconscious. Luffy almost drowned if not for Sanji. Usopp was bluffing about how "everything has to be alright".

She didn't know if he was trying to convince himself or her.

Because everything was wrong. It felt wrong.

The witch took in a deep breath, but only half of the oxygen she inhaled got to her lungs and brain because of her constricted throat. Tears were sitting on her waterline for the fourth time that day.

Too much happened since the crack of dawn and it wasn't even sunset.

Exhaustion made her look years older than she was. Her head fell forward, forehead hitting her knees before the light sneaking through the windows could fall on her face.

Tears filled with anguish ran down her cheeks and it was the first time she allowed herself to let at least an ounce of the weight on top of her body dissipate. The droplets of pain melted down her cheeks and sank into the material of her shirt.

The witch sneaked her arms around the back of her thighs and squeezed herself tighter in a ball, lips trembling. Her breathing was ragged not only because of the lump in her throat, but also because of the firm grip that fishman had on her neck. The skin was sensitive to the touch and it hurt to swallow.

Every event of that day got added one on top of another. Her fight with Zoro, the fact that he was unconscious after that dwell, Nami leaving just like the witch expected to.

Betrayal. Maybe I was a fool for trusting her.

Or am I?

Teeth sank so deeply into her lower lip it drew blood and she tasted copper on the tip of her tongue.

Pain. That was right.

The only right thing happening that day was the physical pain. Palpable, real, bringing her back to earth.

Except that time it failed, because the tears didn't stop. She squeezed her eyes shut as sharp pain traveled through her body, from her chest into her limbs, puncturing each nerve, shaking her to the core.

Her soul screamed, caged by sorrow, an ugly animal that sank its fangs into her flesh and ripped from the inside. Blood was pouring from her heart, soaking organs and bones, melting into the skin like acid. It burnt so fastly, yet it never seemed to end. With a throbbing head, she couldn't hold the pain back anymore.

However, no sound ever left her lips parted in a silent scream. No whimper, no sob, no cry for help. The room was filled with silence as a heartbeat drummed in her ears in an agonizing rhythm.

I shouldn't have come on this ship in the first place. Only if I had been wise enough to leave when I got the chance. Syrup Village was a perfect option, I could've gone on another ship and continued my mindless traveling. Why did I bother myself with this? Why did I suddenly decide it was a great idea to be part of another crew when this only has brought me suffering?

With each second, she willingly aimed the gun at herself and every word was like a bullet.

I should've left. I would've been happier. I should've left it all behind when I realized this won't go well. Fuck the premonitions, fuck the destiny, damned be the world.

A body stripped of clothes and skin, only burnt flesh left behind the monster's bites. Broken ribs and a shattered heart pumping a meaningless life.

As seconds passed by one after another and her tears came to an end, the gentle swinging of the ship pulled her into a half-asleep state.

She noticed when Luffy came into the room and she was aware of his position on Zoro's bed — the cracking of the wood gave him away. As the Straw Hat talked, she only heard the swordsman's name being spoken, some words here and there, but most of his monologue was muffled.

He probably thought she was asleep because of her slow and steady breathing.

Exhaustion was clawing at her muscles and brain, but something kept her aware of the surroundings for a few more minutes.

Everything turned pitch black in her perspective. A husky and deep voice made her believe she was dreaming, the tips of her mouth curling shily upwards.

Only if it would've been reality.

"Zoro!"

Her entire body flinched and she raised her head, wide eyed. If she didn't know any better, she would've said her soul jumped out of her.

"Luffy?" she whispered, confused on why he yelled the swordsman's name—

"You're not dead!" Luffy shouted again, loud enough for everyone in Baratie to hear.

He's alive? the witch thought to herself. I really heard his voice.

Luffy crawled on top of Zoro and squeezed the life out of him. Literally.

"Now I wish I was," she heard Zoro mumble between grunts.

He was alive.

The witch's lungs filled with fresh air for the first time that day. Relief washed over her and her body relaxed, shoulders deflating as some of the weight sitting on them fell into the sea below.

While leaning her body against the wall, she managed to get up just to get a better view of the swordsman who was squinting his eyes at the ceiling. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, head falling forward.

At least one thing went right, didn't it?

After Luffy got up from above Zoro, the swordsman managed to take some deep gulps of air, chest raising up and falling rhythmically.

"I had the strangest dream that Nami left," he said with a frown on his face as he closed his eyes.

"She did," the witch responded faintly.

There wasn't enough courage in her to look at him as she said that, instead choosing to glance at the window.

Zoro looked again at the ceiling and realized her voice was too faint for all of that to be a mere joke, a prank thrown at him for staying unconscious for… for how long?

"It's my fault," Luffy said with his chin lowered.

From the corner of his eye, Zoro saw the witch place a hand on their captain's shoulder.

"We'll find a way."

There was a promise etched onto her fragile smile. As if a simple brush of air or one wrong world could make her crumble.

But she didn't. Instead, she threw a knowing look to Zoro and silently told him to talk with Luffy. She knew the Straw Hat needed his first mate's support at that moment.

What confused Zoro the most was watching the witch get out of the room without too much of a word. Her hair bounced as she stepped further away from him and their friends. Even as his ribs and body hurt at every inhale, he wanted to understand the real reason for her leaving.

Last time they talked, she expressed worry. What happened in the meantime? What the fuck went wrong?

There was a fat chance she was still mad at him for whatever reason. Sure, she was calm, collected, but he could swear he's seen fire burning in her eyes more than just once and a grin splayed on her face at the thrill and adrenaline of a fight. She snapped at him when they fought and he had to admit it would've been sadder if she treated him with silence.

However, he didn't know if that was silence or something more.

Weird, he concluded.

His attention went back to Luffy. The swordsman couldn't manage watching the ever happy-go-lucky captain speak like a ghost.

"You didn't do anything wrong." He seriously hoped he could find the right words to bring Luffy back to reality.

There's no way that crew would fall apart without a proper fight. What has been was just the beginning.

"You acted like a captain."

"But the crew is falling apart," Luffy pulled his lips in a tight line.

"No, it's not," the green-haired firmly affirmed.

Maybe a lot more than Zoro thought has happened, but that was definitely not the end.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Before the sun could set and hide in the sea, they gathered some supplies for their new journey. They found out from the clown head — who they found out told Arlong where to find the Straw Hats — that Nami was most probably heading to Conomi Islands, specifically Cocoyashi Village. Sanji joined their crew, which made Luffy jump in excitement for the second time that day.

Luffy's folded arms were resting over the railing of Going Merry while he stared down at the water splashing against the ship.

"Does it always take so long?" Luffy spoke so softly.

Sanji chuckled with the fishing rod in his hand as he waited for a fish to catch the bait.

"We've only been here for two minutes, be patient," the cook reminded him. "Some days, they bite as soon as you drop the line and some days, it takes hours."

Then, he threw a knowing glance towards Luffy with an arch of his eyebrow.

"But we're not talking about fishing, are we?"

"I highly doubt it," the witch mumbled as she curled her fingers around her tarot deck.

She didn't dare to shuffle through the cards again, a side of her afraid of what was waiting for them. It felt uneasy everytime she got the impulse of taking the cards out and finding out which one of them holds the truth.

The witch was leaning with her back against the railing, not so far away from the Straw Hat, pressing her fingertips into the old box made of cardboard that fit perfectly in her hands.

Luffy smiled towards Sanji before he stared into the horizon with hope.

"I just want to know if Nami's okay."

"A beautiful, talented woman does not choose to ally herself with a pirate like Arlong," Sanji said firmly, convinced of his beliefs. "Nami clearly needs to be rescued."

The witch breathed in deeply and widened her eyes, trying to find the right words to tell them what she knew. A pair of heavy steps caught her attention and she immediately recognized the chiming filling the air.

Zoro. His hand was resting on his Wado Ichimoji — his only sword now.

"Her tattoo says different," he said.

The way he looked at the witch was bringing back to life some shattered pieces of her soul. He might look serene when sleeping, but he was better that way — wide awake and an asshole.

Also, he noticed something she couldn't pinpoint. There must've been a scar on her face, most probably. At first, he only stared at her face, just to lower his gaze. Oh. She didn't sleep for two days and got in a fight with a fishman, which left some nasty bruises on her bare neck.

"Well," Sanji argued, "tattoos don't tell the whole story. And like any woman, she's a mystery to be unraveled."

"Am I supposed to feel flattered?" the witch arched her eyebrow at the cook after she turned her head towards him.

Right at that moment, Zoro stepped between her and Luffy, restricting her view. All she could see was his chest, bandaged and with a red patch in the center.

"You should change your bandages," she looked up at him.

However, the witch was hesitant when she did so. As if the man in front of her could vanish in thin air.

Zoro turned to Sanji and decided to completely ignore her comment.

"Nami made her choice."

The cook immediately frowned, creases appearing on his forehead. His scowl was deeper than Zoro's.

"You don't know why," Sanji retorted.

As if getting snapped by Usopp, Zoro scoffed:

"The only thing I want to hear from you are dinner specials. You don't know Nami."

"Sounds like you don't know her either, Mosshead," Sanji spat with a taunting smile on his lips.

"Oh God, stop, you two," the witch sighed heavily, annoyed.

Just to get the swordsman's attention to her, she poked his back with the tip of her finger, digging deep enough to receive a light flinch. It seemed like she took him by surprise. She bent her back more as she continued resting her elbows on the railing to glance at Luffy over Zoro's shoulder.

"I'm sure Nami has her reasons," their captain nodded.

"I know Nami's reason."

All of their heads turned to the witch.

Usopp was just walking up the stairs of the forecastle when his eyes sparkled curiously.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Nami," Zoro said quickly. "Why didn't you say anything until now?" that time, his sharp words were directed to the witch.

The witch shot him a glare, displeased by his reaction. However, she would've acted the same if someone was to hide something so important.

"It would've felt unfair to tell you before talking with her," the witch clarified.

"You talked with her about it?" Usopp suddenly intervened, surprised by the news.

The witch gripped at the tarot deck in between her hands tighter and clicked her tongue, trying to find the best words to explain.

"I did. Somehow," uncertainty latched onto her voice.

None of them rushed her anymore so she took her time.

"Listen, this isn't as easy as it seems to be. Yes, Sanji, she didn't willingly get into Arlong's crew."

A snarky remark sat on the cook's tongue and he wanted to throw it Zoro's way.

"But," the witch continued in order to stop an eventual argument, "she's fully aware of her actions. She was forced by the circumstances to do what she's doing, but it doesn't mean she likes acting like Arlong's crewmate. Nami certainly hates him from the bottom of her heart. He did something. Something that forced her to act like she's a friend just to protect something or someone. Or both. She's not only protecting herself, she's protecting what's most dear to her heart."

It wasn't the witch that spoke, but the gut feeling she had. Her thoughts didn't seem so clear in months, since her last successful tarot reading. Now, as the significance of each card sank into her brain, she knew what everything meant.

It wasn't her that spoke, but her intuition.

"She's keeping us away because she's scared we'd get hurt, not only because we would get in her way. Nami cares about us and that's exactly why she's pushing us away."

"Who does that?" Zoro wondered out loud.

Maybe he should've kept that to himself.

"You do that," the witch's head snapped towards him. "I do it. And Nami does. She said she tricked us — which was true. At the same time, she's tricking Arlong. He isn't her crewmate, he's an asshole that stole something from her—"

The witch got so carried away she didn't even realize what she just said. She suddenly furrowed her eyebrows into the void and received confused looks from her friends.

"He stole something. Her freedom."

Those words were said as she actively figured the details out, staring into the void.

"Witch?" Usopp nudged her.

"Yes?" she turned towards him.

"Did she tell you all these things?"

There was a light chuckle that left her lips at that question.

"The cards did. Her reactions just gave her away and answered my doubts."

The witch knew what games she was playing. She's been doing these things for years and not only — she trusted her gut feeling above everything else.

She received an especially confused look from the cook, who had no clue why she was called a witch. He probably supposed it was because she was beautiful or maybe secretive.

He should've taken that nickname literally.

"What do we do then?" Zoro turned his head towards their captain.

Luffy listened intently to everything the witch had to say and he made up his mind since long ago:

"I want to hear her decision for myself."

"That's for the best," the witch nodded.

There was more she would've liked to say, but speaking from the gut was both easier than usual and harder when tired. Considering the last time she got some proper sleep was before they got attacked by the Marines, she could say it's been long enough for her mind to get clouded.

Stuck in her thoughts as she was, the grip on her tarot deck loosened up and the object fell from her hold on the wooden floor. The witch's exhausted brain registered that too many seconds later.

A deep frown appeared between her eyebrows, blinking in an attempt to clear her vision while she bent down to take the deck in her hand.

Obviously, she failed.

When her back was straight again, her vision went pitch black and a heavy throbbing settled in her temples. The ship swayed worse than a second ago. She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed.

The witch has been in that situation before. She stood still, because attempting to walk would've ended in a passionate kiss with the floor.

When the sensations dissipated little by little, tiredness was everything left behind.

"I'm gonna get some rest," she mumbled, the words a little slurred.

With her eyes now opened wide enough to see where she's heading, she walked towards the stairs and cussed them out one by one.

Falling like an idiot wasn't on her to-do list for that day.

By some miracle, she managed to walk all the way into the galley. The room she shared with Nami was hers, but it was too far away. Her feet barely carried her to the dark red sofa she let her body fall on like a sack.

She didn't care about the clothes she hasn't changed from, too caught up with everything that has happened. There was enough time for a shower later, when exhaustion wasn't seeping into her bones. The only thing she had the decency to do was to take her boots off.

She stretched her legs and put an arm under her head, resting on her side to face the room. Not the most comfortable place to sleep in, but after all of that tumult, nothing mattered anymore.

The sweet sound of jingling disturbed her again.

Oh, god dammit.

She was one breath away from cussing Zoro's ass and his earrings — despite being in ecstasy that he woke up. The witch, as if expecting his next move, bent her knees to make space for him. The swordsman plopped himself down with a grunt at the other side of the sofa and her bare feet touched his thigh.

She didn't dare mutter a word about his presence. Zoro could stay. Gosh, as she was thinkingln about it, she could only believe it was a blessing he wasn't only awake, but also throwing remarks her way.

It was so much better than telling stories of her past to an unconscious Mosshead.

Right.

The edges of her mouth curled in a smile.

"What?"

"Mosshead," she chuckled, eyes still closed.

Zoro let out a scoff and she could imagine him rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Didn't you say you were going to rest?"

His voice was unusually low and even soft, pulling her towards the dreamland.

"I'd say this place is perfect," she mumbled.

The witch didn't bother to explain she was tired out of her mind or that her feet would most likely betray her if she dared to get up.

The silence was filled with their breathing and the sounds of the water splashing against their ship, the cracks of the wood. She remembered the times when she traveled with her father's crew and she would many times fall asleep curled next to a barrel while the vice-captain was still singing sea shanties in the middle of the night.

"Zoro," the witch whispered.

She was too weary to care about what left her mouth. It acted like alcohol — it clouded her mind and she felt shameless.

"What if I wouldn't have stepped on this ship?"

That question plagued her mind and she finally said it out loud.

"So the last ship was more to your taste?" he snickered. "It almost sank in the sea."

"You're such an ass," and while that phrase might've sounded harsh in the past, at that moment it was filled with fondness.

"Been told that before."

I really missed that voice.

"For someone with a big ass bruise on your neck, you sound more like a coward than I thought."

Maybe she deserved that serious tone thrown her way. Was he right? Only halfway through.

"No," she was stubborn enough to fight the sleep for a few more minutes. "What if I would've been happier? Y'know, less worries, no people to haunt my ass. No anxiety."

No crying over you for being almost dead.

The continuation sat on the tip of her tongue and got swallowed back with a gulp. Was there really a need for an admission? Puffy eyelids and dark circles under her eyes, chapped lips and bandages around her forearm soaked in blood. Those details were enough proof.

"Do you hate us that much?" his low voice sent shivers down her spine.

"It's not about that. Just…" she gulped and curled her fingers around the tarot deck she was still holding onto. "I want some peace."

"I say you should get some sleep."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Standing on the deck felt right, even if the witch doesn't remember why she was there. She can't point out the weather clearly, it feels blurry. Seconds ago she was in the kitchen talking with Sanji about some unusual topic she couldn't remember.

Then why was she suddenly on the deck, face to face with a kneeling Zoro who had two swords piercing through his upper body from behind? She didn't only know it was him, she felt like it was him, as if the pieces connecting in her head were just right. However, it horrified her. Everything around him was blurry except for him.

Him, whose essence of life was pouring down his body, creating a puddle under him, sinking into the cracks of the wooden floor. The crimson liquid melted into his white t-shirt. Now that she was looking better at it, she noticed the sharp point of a sword penetrating all the way through his stomach to the front side of his body.

He was looking up at her, despite the way his chin was tilted down. Those sharp brown eyes were boring holes through her. His beautiful irises painted with the warm nuances of chocolate and coffee were scary, like no other time.

Was Luffy next to her? It feels like it was him, even if she can only distinguish a silhouette in the corner of her right eye.

Why was Zoro looking at her like that? She couldn't move, as if her feet were stuck in place. She didn't know if she was breathing or if she was alive anymore. She didn't know why she was on the deck, why those swords took his life away. It barely made any sense that he had enough energy to stare at her.

He didn't falter once. He didn't beg for help, her name didn't come out of his mouth, no groans, no nothing.

She couldn't move. As she stood in the same place, her anxiety was rising up, up, up, until she felt like panicking despite the lack of reaction. She felt like exploding, but she couldn't express those horrific feelings.

She couldn't help him. Her arms were stuck by the sides of her body, as if someone had put a spell on her. She had the will to move her legs, to get closer to him, she wanted to, but she remained glued in that spot. She couldn't feel her body.

She had to do something, but she was trapped inside an unmoving object that was her own body. Why?

Everything snapped.

The smallest hope towards an escape woke her up. Her eyes opened instantly and she raised up in a sitting position, eyes frantically searching for more clues, for answers about the horrifying images she just saw before her eyelids.

Her heart was beating so fast it made her wish she didn't have it at all, a deafening ba-dump repeating in her eardrums over and over again.

Unfortunately, she was face to face with the swordsman she dreamt of. Instantly, as if she was shot, she looked at his upper abdomen. For no more than two seconds, she saw a big black patch on his bandages.

She inhaled deeply and her heart was beating faster, suddenly unable to release that breath of air. Her eyes widened and her hands shook, chest tight.

"Hey," she heard more of a background sound.

She blinked countless times, until her tired brain figured out that it was just her imagination. It was so dark in the room and her nightmare was a shock, the reason why at some point the patch started blurring out, inviting her to blink until it turned to be one small spot. It has been there since he woke up from his slumber.

When the realization sank in, she let go of that breath and let out a pitiful whimper. Deep inside, it felt like relief, her eyes now squeezed shut.

This time, he clearly called her name after his fingers securely gripped at her shaking shoulders, avoiding her wound. Her hands were trembling, her entire being disturbed.

Zoro said her name, not the nickname she got so used to hearing on that ship. Not the usual Witch, a word that sounded so endearing coming from her crewmates; no, it was her name and it was spoken so softly she could've confused him for someone else.

She had a poor attempt at recalling those images in order to figure out the reality, but it backfired. The bloody scene stuck before her closed eyes pushed her to open them up again.

Thankfully, his dark gaze was warm, filled with unspoken worry. For a brief moment she wondered how he woke up, since he slept like the dead sometimes.

"I'm surprised I managed to wake you up," her voice trembled.

He didn't joke back at her. Instead, his thumbs started rubbing slow circles into her shoulders in order to bring her back to earth. Or, better said, back to the ship that was peacefully sailing on the sea during the night.

"I think you should correct your breathing," he pointed out.

Once she changed from autopilot breathing, it felt like her throat was tight.

"Breathe in."

Blindly, she trusted his instructions. That mere breath shook her again, feeling shivers when she allowed the oxygen to sink into her lungs, the same way his voice sank into her being, in the cracks of her soul.

It took a few minutes until that normal bodily process didn't seem like an impossible task. Her muscles were tense until Zoro squeezed her shoulders again.

She could distinguish more of his face than just the warmth she noticed not long ago. His expression seemed pained with worry and not from a wound that could kill him, even if there still were bandages wrapped around his torso. Maybe it was also fear that made him look so different from usual; or was it confusion?

"I'm sorry for destroying your sleep."

It was half a lie. She wasn't sorry about the touch keeping her afloat, about how she managed to breathe again only because of his presence, because he was clearly awake and alive. At the same time, she knew he needed to rest so his wound could heal properly.

"Be serious," he huffed in a lower voice, clearly displeased.

"I am. You should sleep."

"Just like you should, but I doubt you will."

"I'd argue about that."

She was still tired, even if her shock from earlier struck her like thunder. Her eyes could close at any moment, which she feared, because another nightmare didn't sound good even for how stress resistant she became.

Since he heard her soft whimper when she was still sleeping, he had no clue what to do, how to act. One thing was clear: it was better to wake her up, despite the possibility she might get defensive and attack.

Alright, now what the heck do I do? He's had nightmares before, he's seen horrendous things during his sleep countless times, but he didn't have any idea about what to do for her. Was he even supposed to do something? She didn't like being pampered — maybe he should act like nothing happened. However, the fear coloring her face earlier shocked him as well. The witch has always been collected, she had such a firm grip on her reactions it was annoying sometimes.

The swordsman shook his head, but didn't let go of her. Instead, he leaned against the cushions on his side, while his hands fell down to her forearms to get a comfortable position of his limbs and upper body. The wound on his chest sent daggers through him at each movement. Barely a day of consciously dealing with it and he's already got annoyed.

The witch looked down at where their bodies were connected. His long calloused fingers were securely wrapped around her arms, close to her wrists. When did her legs end up in his lap she didn't know. Her bare knee tingled with warmth — why?

"You had a weird reaction after you woke up," his whisper stirred something in her heart.

"What do you mean? I had plenty of reactions."

Are you playing the idiot with me? Zoro thought.

"You were more scared of seeing me than of the nightmare."

"Oh."

Why did the Mosshead have to be so observant? It was one of the reasons why she was attracted to him, evidently, but sometimes he exposed her too easily.

She dropped her chin and looked down at her own hands. Admitting that she feared his role as the main character of a tragedy for the second time felt embarrassing for some unknown reason. She's been in enough humiliating situations and he never ridiculed her.

Zoro was utterly stuck. Was he supposed to move away? His body felt too heavy to get off the sofa and go to his room. It wouldn't be alright leaving her alone with her crippling anxiety either, considering she was prone to overthinking.

He wanted to do something, but what?

He let out a long sigh and rested his head against the cushions, his fingers still curled around her wrists. Her pulse was fast, but as seconds passed by, it slowed down under the weight of his thumbs.

The witch became hyper aware of the situation, but it felt too good to move away. Her tired brain entirely registered his presence and her eyes closed. She breathed in the chill air of the night and, while focusing so intently on Zoro's presence, she fell into a deeper state of mind, half asleep.

He was disturbed from his own journey into the dream realm when he felt a light weight on his shoulder. Once his eyes opened, he saw the cause: she leaned in closer to him, clearly unaware.

He smelled like the sea and the familiar scent of soap clung to the unbuttoned blue t-shirt he wore. With her forehead resting against his neck, the witch could vaguely point out his pulse. The safety of his embrace lulled her into a dreamless sleep while she focused on his slow breathing and the secure grip he had on her.

Zoro filled her senses so fiercely it was impossible not to melt into him, inhaling and exhaling in sync with him.

The swordsman had different sentiments about this and they were all confusing.

What am I doing? he scolded himself.

He moved his head and angled his face so he could look at the right side of her sleeping face. With long eyelashes resting over her soft cheeks, she looked like she didn't have a worry in the world, even if he knew better. Her shoulders would rise and fall rhythmically in such a slow pace, making him wonder what exactly exhausted her so much.

Then, his gaze fell on the purple marks on her neck and his jaw clenched. If he would've been awake when Arlong appeared at Baratie, maybe none of them would be like that. Maybe he would've had enough stubbornness to get answers from Nami and maybe Luffy wouldn't have been so close to drowning. Maybe those marks on her neck wouldn't have been there in the first place.

What the fuck am I doing?

Giving up, he rested his head back against the cushions with a scowl. He didn't understand himself and it was even harder to understand the woman sleeping so peacefully, too close to him.

Zoro let out a low displeased sound and closed his eyes, deciding to rest for a while. He didn't dare move away or wake her up either.

First and foremost he was displeased about the fact that he liked the proximity.

I wonder what that fishman's face looks like. It'll surely be a pleasure to slice him in half.

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58 @katiemrty @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @freyademartel @boofy1998 @ponyboys-sunsets @melsunshine @loveyluv7 @waddlingwanderer @jesssssmaybankk @nadlx33333 @yoong1c0re @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mizzy-pop @zoromyluv

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iris-black13 · 11 days

Text

In honour of Merlin trending for literally no reason today, I would like to share my theories that I came up with during my recent rewatch. (I'm only up to season 3 right now so there really aren't that many theories yet.)

1. Merlin and Arthur 100% fell in love with each other in season 1, but they aren't aware of it at all.

2. Merlin is so gay. I'm not sure if he knows it or not, but Merlin is not attracted to women. Every time he's seemed interested in a woman, it's because she's been a powerful sorceress or a magical creature. Speaking of Freya; his only real female love interest, what he loves about her is that he sees himself in her. He feels a sense of kinship towards her as someone who is trapped and hunted for something out of her control. I don't think he feels any actual romantic love for her. He loves her, sure. But I think he's confusing romantic love for something else. (But idk I could be wrong.)

3. I don't think the Morgana we got back after her disappearance is the same Morgana we had pre S2E12. I think she probably died and came back wrong. Because otherwise the personality difference is too drastic. Her relationship with Gwen for instance. It makes sense if she didn't forgive Merlin for what he did, but why is she so mean to Gwen?? Gwen was her best friend and maybe even her first love? Morgana was never classist before season 3, but afterwards she acts like Gwen is lesser than and it just doesn't make sense. Anyway that's my in-universe explanation for her terrible shift in character.

4. This is the most important one. Merlin doesn't realize he's in love with Arthur until some time shortly before the season 2 finale. Before the finale, Merlin is happy to cheer on the romance between Arthur and Gwen. Two of his best friends fell in love! Why wouldn't he be happy? Even if they think there's no future for their relationship, he's more than happy to help them get together because Merlin believes in loving who you want to love.

Now, I could go on about how falling in love with Gwen is basically Arthur's way of expressing his repressed feelings for Merlin since Gwen and Merlin are of the same social standing and since Gwen is a woman he can experience the love he could have had with Merlin if it was allowed, but I won't do that. This ain't about him. What's important is that Merlin, in the season 2 finale- knows he's in love with Arthur, and that Arthur can't love him back. After the finale, he's still happy to help his friends in their affections for each other, but his bright goofy smile is gone. It's replaced with this melancholy smile and a hesitant voice.

I'm so serious right now. If you don't believe me, just go rewatch seasons 2 and 3 and see the shift in his demeanor yourself. He actively avoids them when they're interacting in season 3. In- I think it was the changeling episode, at the end, Arthur and Merlin walk into a hallway at the bottom of the staircase. They both see Gwen on the staircase, and when Arthur starts up the stairs, Merlin immediately leaves. It's not a "I'll give them their space" moment. It's a "I can't be here right now" kind of moment. He doesn't even try to stick around to protect Arthur on their date in the episode where Morgana frames Gwen for witchcraft. (and don't even get me started on that episode of my god.) Normally, he would stick around in the shadows to make sure nothing goes wrong and they aren't attacked or anything. It's weird that he doesn't try to stick around!

And oh my God. There are so many moments where Colin Morgan's acting just makes my heart ache. In the crystal caves, Merlin trying to banter with an unconscious Arthur while trying desperately to heal him makes me want to cry. And any time he's encouraging Gwen to follow her heart and be with Arthur just makes me ache. In the "...you still have feelings for him." And the "you like him. He likes you. Isn't that all that really matters?" I just can't.

Honestly, I could go on, but this post is already wordy enough. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

#merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin analysis #merlin spoilers #merlin 2008

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krizariel · 7 months

Text

"You need to stop this."

"What?" Tim said, taken aback

"You like me. I have noticed the way you look at me, the way your eyes linger when you think im not looking, how you try to advocate for me in front of Bruce or Dick. The way you always stick around. At first I thought you were just keeping an eye on me making sure I don't go batshit but I'm not an idiot. I know what that is like and you have a big fat crush."

Tim didn't assent or denied, he just stood there, unmoving.

"You need to find someone better. Someone who actually, genuinely, cares for you. I'm an asshole but I'm honest and I'm not one to play around with someone's feelings especially not someone I've come to genuinely respect. Right now, right here, I'm telling you: it's going nowhere. Deal with it however you need to and find someone worth your affections. I'm sure it's out there, it's just not me."

That was the last time Jason saw him.

…With his eyes open that is.

----

When he first heard the news, it hit harder then he let on. A mission with Batman went wrong and Tim was shot in the head. Although Bruce managed to take him to the hospital in time and he survived, he had fallen into a coma. As he stood there while Bruce reported the details, his words suddenly felt further and further until he couldn't hear anything. He didn't want this. Yet another Robin falling for the mission. But most importantly… he never got to make peace with him. Now the last thing he remember of Tim is his saddened eyes quickly turning blank and turning away. Maybe one time he had misplaced hate towards him but he doesn't feel any of it now. He had hurt him before; he didn't want to hurt him again. He thought letting him down fast and hard would be better for Tim… but maybe it was just better for himself. He could've done better but he didn't. So he did what he did when he feels he screwed up and he can't do anything about it: He focused on what he CAN do. The assholes who got Tim were still out there. They escaped while Bruce focused on saving Tim's life. So Jason didn't waste time. He knew Bruce would not rest until he found them so he offered his unsolicited assistance, with the caveat that he cannot refuse. "It's either this or I'll do it my way and we both know you'd prefer it if we do it your way."

(and so would Tim)

(If he was angrier and he broke a more bones than intended, no one said anything)

-----

At first he'd sneak during the night, seat at the further corner of the room, staring at Tim's hospital bed. The room ever so silent tormented him at first.

At first maybe it was torture. Maybe that was the reason why he'd come almost every night. Sometimes he'd doze off for an hour or two and then he'd head out the same way he came.

Later he decided… the least he could do is bring flowers. Maybe. It was too late to find a flower shop so he stole some gardenias he thought were pretty.

Another day he brought some white lilies because they seemed bright and somehow reminded him of Tim.

And so on, different kind of flowers made their way to Tim's bedside table.

(Jason finally found himself inside a flower shop almost at closing time, browsing flowers)

It finally hit him that he doesn't know what Tim's favorite flower is. He thought…that is something he would like to ask him when he wakes up.

Slowly, he found himself getting closer to the bed, keeping the flowers watered and seating in silence, just reading. Somehow knowing that Tim's heart was still beating was good enough. Months passed and this became his routine.

Sometimes, he'd just seat beside Tim's bed to tell him about his day; sometimes he'd read for him some of his own favorite stories (and wondered what did Tim like to read for leisure? what were his favorite books?)

Sometimes he's just have a shitass day and sneak around to Tim's room. No one ever thinks to look for him there. Great hiding place.

Sometimes he feels like talking about his past, his present and wistful future.

And sometimes he wonders if any of it reaches Tim's subconscious, somehow.

He started thinking about Tim opening his eyes. He is starting to forget how he looks awake, fighting or working. It is then that he decided to just loook for photos of Tim… just about any he could find in files or at the mansion. Alfred had quite a few, most of them were of younger Tim.

There were some others of older Tim in the news (Thank you Vicky!) And that brough him back to the last memory he has of Tim's bright blue eyes, clearly heartbroken.

And so he wonders if he could be given another chance to see him again.

If he was granted another chance, he promised this time he'd do anything to make him smile instead.

"Hey there, sleeping beauty." Jason greeted him as he bumped his forehead to Tim's. This close he could see those pretty eyelashes, pretty and still unmoving. But could also feel a bit of Tim's warmth and that was enough. He couldn't help himself and hopes Tim would forgive him for that.

It's been over a year, but Jason hopes. It finally happened, not long afterwards. Tim's eyes finally fluttered open.

"Who are you?"

Part 2 Part 3

#jaytim #jason todd #tim drake #red hood #red robin #was originally going to post this on jaytimweek amnesia #but didnt have time to finish haha #also partially inspired on recent comics were timmy was shot in the neck and bleeding #oh my poor boy #It has a happy ending but you know #i have to put it together #not fic

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au-wannabe-the-very-best · 7 months

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Misplaced Super Train is absolutely AMAZING and is for some reason scratching a bit of my brain so if you don't mind I had some possible thoughts that could maybe be incorperated for like. AU World Building, if that's alright

what if the Super Train "Clan" end up building their camp around the ruins of the battle train, both for the easy shelter it offers but also to keep any other people from poking around and finding Future Stuff

bouncing back and forth between teaching Ingo about who they are and where they came from but also stuff about Hisui and trying to differentiate the two so his "past" and "future" knowledge won't get muddled

the STC's giving the other Clan's/Galaxy Team a HEART ATTACK with just how calm and relaxed they are with their pokemon becuase they've all seen how strong they are

they do bond with Laventon tho since he's very interested in all these new, seemingly domesticated pokemon as well as how powerful they are

I was actually going on the assumption that their camp is where their totaled train is! I still don't know where exactly I'd want them to crash at, I don't want them in either Pearl or Diamond territory, and I don't want them near Jubilife Village. So it just leaves the coastlands and the highlands, I think. And, if Ingo still becomes Lady Sneasler's warden, it makes more sense for the train to have crashed in the highlands.

So I suppose they're, like, the new official Highlands Clan. On account of the fact that they can't live anywhere else. They don't know how to build tents. Have to stick with the train cars.

(Okay I guess I now know where I want them to crash at.)

As for teaching Ingo, he may be able to understand what these people are saying, but despite knowing he has a brother and a family and works with trains etc, he doesn't remember any of it. It becomes clear to the depot agents that telling him these things aren't actually helping his memory at all, just forcing him to feel pressured into remembering, so they stop trying altogether. They'll tell Ingo things if he asks, but otherwise, they're not going to try and force remembrance of certain things anymore.

Akari's own amnesia and the fact that she has no expectations of Ingo or knew him previously is actually part of the reason why Ingo is so comfortable with her, and why he finds it so much easier to remember things around her.

Anyways, I don't think the clans are all too alarmed by being close to Pokémon so much as the Galaxy Team are, honestly speaking. I mean, they all seem to have Pokémon partners? I think it's more normal for the clans than the Galaxy Team, but understandably EVERYONE is very wary of the fact that their Pokémon are just. So insanely strong in comparison to everyone else. Because these crazy people battle for FUN. Nobody else does that! Battling is for survival, judging someone's character, asserting authority, or proving a point. It is NOT for enjoyment!

Every time a Clan or Galaxy Team member passes by them while they're battling, they sort of just skirt the edge and stare wide-eyed at them like they're absolutely insane. Because by native standards, they are.

As for Laventon, he's literally the kind of guy to just run up to a stranger and start a conversation, so I imagine he does actually get along with the depot agents and Ingo quite well. Even if he does ask enough questions to remind them all of reporters.

#Submas #Misplaced Super Train #Ingo #Subway Boss Ingo #Professor Laventon #PLA Ingo #Pokemon #Pokémon #Akari #PLA Akari

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moraxine · 8 months

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Echoes of The Heart [I]

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader // geto suguru x fem!reader

genre: fluff, future smut

words: 3.1k

summary: Having Gojo Satoru as a roommate comes with a weekly price. And while your best friend is busy fucking random people almost every Friday night, this time you find yourself at a nearby bar, where you meet a mysterious man, Suguru, that has his ways of entering your heart.

Next Chapter

As the city lights filtered through the windows of your shared apartment, you sighed softly, realizing it was once again time to make yourself scarce. Gojo Satoru, your charismatic and enigmatic best friend, was entertaining yet another admirer tonight. Before you could make an exit, Gojo leaned against the doorway, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you gather your things.

"Off on your secret mission again, huh?" he teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. You rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at your lips.

"Someone's got to make sure you don't cause any earthquakes, Satoru." You shared a knowing look, an unspoken understanding of your unique dynamic.

With a dramatic sigh, Gojo feigned a pout.

"You're the best wingman a guy could ask for," he remarked, earning an exaggerated eye roll from you.

"Just promise me you won't bring the house down, okay?" you retorted with a smirk, the familiarity of your banter filling the room with a sense of companionship that only years of friendship could cultivate.

Gojo had been your best friend for years, and even though he was a total goof, he held a special place in your heart as someone who supported you through shitty situations. If it weren't for Gojo's demeanor, you would have ended up desperate and even depressed. You owed the guy a lot, and leaving once a week in order for him to get some, was probably the easier way you could repay him.

With a resigned smile, you expressed your farewell and slipped out the door, giving them the space they would soon need.

Finding yourself amidst the vibrant lights of Tokyo, you allowed your feet to take you on a long walk around the city to help clear your head. Eventually, you sought solace in the warm ambiance of a cozy bar. Nestled on a stool, you ordered a drink, the clinking of glasses and hushed conversations providing a comforting backdrop as you navigated the swirling thoughts in your mind.

You caught yourself adrift in a sea of uncertainty, your future stretching out before you with a disconcerting lack of direction. You stared into your glass, contemplating the void that lay ahead.

You moved in with Gojo when university started a couple years ago. And even after your graduation, you decided to stick to it for a little longer. Splitting the rent was ideal for you, since you had yet to find a stable job. Gojo on the other was simply used to it, or at least that's what you believed.

Because if there was one person without any money-related worries, it had to be Gojo. You never let him help you on that, however, since your biggest goal was to build your independence yourself. He never asked for you to part ways as roommates, so you thought that maybe he was too lazy to look for a new place and move out. Or he was too much of a gentleman to kick you out. Whatever the reason, it was more than okay for now.

It would be way too lonely without him anyway.

As moments turned to minutes, and you got lost in contemplating your future, a mysterious man took a seat beside you, his lip piercing glinting in the warm ambiance, a man-bun crowning his head, and a captivating sleeve tattoo peeking from beneath his white shirt.

Engrossed in conversation with the bartender, he exuded an intriguing presence that gradually pulled your attention from your own introspections.

With a glance at your phone, your gaze shifted, fingers tapping the screen in an act of implicit awkwardness, and quiet anticipation.

It was then that the man turned his attention to you, his words laced with curiosity, "Waiting for something?"

You found yourself opening up, your voice carrying a mix of resignation and a touch of vulnerability as you spoke. "My roommate, who's also my best friend, he's... busy tonight," you began, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"He pretty much kicked me out so he could have his...fun." Your words held a hint of playful exasperation.

"But truth be told, it's not just that. There's a lot on my mind lately, and I needed some space to think. Uni is over, and it's like I'm staring at a blank canvas, unsure of what to paint. I work at a cafe in the area, but that's not really what I want to do for the rest of my life."

Your gaze drifted, as if searching for answers in the amber depths of your drink.

You could not comprehend where this sudden urge to overshare came from.

"So, here I am, in this bar, trying to find a bit of clarity in the chaos."

Yup, you were already starting to regret it.

The man's lips curved into a wry smile as he listened to your words, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Ah, I see. Though, a bar might not be the ideal setting for philosophical contemplation." he mused, his tone light and playful.

"But it's totally a place to find some camaraderie and fleeting connections, if nothing else." He leaned slightly against the bar, his gaze locking with yours.

You felt your cheeks getting hot. The way his eyes locked on yours felt like he was getting access to your soul, the door of which you had gladly opened. There was something enchanting about him, about his aura, about-

"You know, I'm a regular here. Friends with the bartender and all that," he added with a subtle nod toward the person behind the counter.

"And if there's a connection with someone interesting, well, who am I to pass up a chance for an eventful night?"

Your laughter twinkled in the air as you responded, "You'd get along well with my best friend, Satoru."

His eyebrows rose in curiosity. "Satoru, you say?" he inquired, his voice tinged with interest.

"I suppose you could introduce us. Now, about the other thing..."

His gaze held a sense of reassurance as he responded, his words carrying a soothing quality.

"You know, life has a way of unfolding unexpectedly. Sometimes the paths we take aren't the straightest, but they often lead us to where we're meant to be. So don't stress too much, sweetheart, you'll get there."

If it wasn't for the music and the conversations in the dimly lit room, you swear he would be able to listen to the strong pounding of your heart against your chest.

What the hell was going on with you?

Getting flustered over a guy felt like a distant memory until now. The feeling was odd, and started to scare you. You had barely exchanged any words.

There was something about his presence, the way his hands tapped on the glass, the way his lips moved as he spoke, the way a few strands of hair covered the sides of his forehead that had you utterly trapped in his beauty.

As you were about to thank him for his little advice, a woman entered the scene, the familiarity in her demeanor suggesting a deeper connection. She wrapped her arm around the man's waist with an affectionate grin, interrupting your conversation.

"Suguru! It's been forever! We need to catch up," she exclaimed, her voice carrying a hint of warmth. Suguru's lips curved into a polite smile, his voice calm as he replied, "I'm actually here with a friend right now, but yes, let's do that another time." His gaze shifted towards you, a subtle signal for you to step in. You met his gaze and responded with a gracious smile and a nod, subtly letting Suguru off the hook.

The woman's frustration was palpable as she let an exasperated sigh. And yet, she eventually relented, leaving Suguru and you alone once again, after mumbling something you didn't quite catch.

Suguru offered an apologetic smile, a rueful chuckle escaping his lips. "I don't even remember her name," he admitted with a shake of his head.

"We've only met once or twice, purely for... enjoyment, you could say."

Your eyebrows quirked up in curiosity, the contrast between your lives and her own experiences stark.

"I've often wondered how you and Satoru can engage in these casual relationships without things getting complicated," you confessed, a touch of perplexity in your voice.

It was true, even though you had discussed it with Gojo before, you couldn't imagine yourself having sex with someone just for "preservation purposes" as your friend claimed, whatever the hell that meant.

Suguru's gaze held a depth that matched his insight as he looked into your eyes.

"Intimate relationships only lead to hurt if there's a deeper connection, emotions involved beyond the surface," he explained, his tone tinged with a mixture of wisdom and experience.

"Sometimes, keeping things light and detached is a way to avoid that pain. But," he added softly, "it's not a path everyone can or should take."

It was a moment of profound connection, as you both exchanged perspectives on the intricate dance of human emotions. You frowned a little at the thought of him having the same habits as Gojo.

It shouldn't matter to you y/n, it's not like you had a chance, anyway. Right?

Suguru's fingers deftly pulled out a cigarette, and after a few thoughtful puffs, he extended it towards you.

"Wanna?" he asked, a casual offer tainted with a hint of caution.

You shook your head with a small smile, your reply laced with a hint of amusement, "Nah, I don't smoke."

Suguru's lips curved into a grin.

"Wouldn't want to be a bad influence," he remarked, his tone light. "But you know, sometimes it's the only thing that helps me unwind and calm my nerves." He offered the cigarette once again, his gaze curious.

Without having no control over your actions, your fingers reached out to accept it, and you eventually brought it to your lips with an unpracticed ease. In that moment, you seemed to channel an unexpected familiarity, handling the cigarette as if you'd been doing it for years. The way you inhaled, held it between your fingers-it was a revelation that piqued Suguru's intrigue, a silent reminder that appearances could often be deceiving.

You offered a grateful smile as you returned the cigarette, your words carrying a touch of realism.

"Thanks, but I think it's probably not the best time for me to develop a smoking habit," you commented as you came back to Earth, a hint of humor in your tone.

Suguru chuckled in agreement, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of understanding and intrigue.

After that time passed by faster than expected. Suguru tried to keep the conversation light, avoiding to talk much about himself, but rather focusing on general matters that wouldn't bring your spirits down.

The clock showed almost two in the morning.

As you conversed, a call interrupted your interaction. Suguru excused himself and moved a short distance away to take the call. Upon his return, he offered you a small smile as his hand found its place at your back, touching it softly, as he expressed his appreciation for your company.

"I should be on my way, unfortunately. I had a delightful time with you tonight."

You nodded softly, your eyes reflecting a touch of sadness.

Suguru extended his hand, finally introducing himself.

"Suguru Geto. You probably heard my name from that woman earlier but it would be rude to depart without a proper introduction."

You reciprocated with a smile, sharing your name in return.

The unexpected softness of his hand against yours, his eyes locked onto yours, held a certain magnetism. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hand, his gaze warm and lingering. "Remember, y/n" he murmured softly, his lips curving into a smile, "if you ever need that cigarette or just a chat, you know where to find me."

It was a farewell that left an impression, an unspoken connection formed in the midst of an ordinary night. He left as quickly as he had appeared and you were left alone again, but this time with a new kind of torment occupying the spaces of your mind.

As you walked back home, your thoughts were still swirling around the encounter with Suguru. His mysterious charm had left an indelible mark, and your steps seemed lighter as you approached your shared apartment.

Unlocking the door, you entered to a rather unexpected sight. Gojo, shirtless and casually clad in a pair of pajama shorts, stood before you, an air of nonchalance about him. Beside him, the woman who had occupied his attention earlier offered you a small smile and a casual greeting before walking past you and making her exit, leaving a sense of quiet acknowledgment in her wake.

Your lips curved into a rueful smile as you watched the woman depart. It was just another ordinary night in the life of Gojo Satoru, that fucking idiot.

Gojo's grin widened as he looked at you, his curiosity piqued. "So, how did your night out go?" he inquired, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, a hint of mischief dancing in your gaze. "Well, for once, I'd say you kicking me out was actually a lucky move," you admitted with a playful smile. "I met someone at a bar a few blocks away. We talked, had a pretty interesting conversation." You paused, your tone lightening. "It was different..."

Gojo's eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "Oh, I see how it is. You're finally stealing my spotlight," he quipped, a laugh bubbling in his voice. It was a fleeting moment of camaraderie, a shared understanding.

You slipped off your coat and set your bag down, your playful demeanor intact as you turned to Gojo. "Hungry?" You asked with a grin. "I'm thinking of whipping up something to eat. You interested?"

"I mean, sure, but it's three-"

You couldn't help but tease, "You're awake anyway. You don't like your guests overstaying their welcome, you have to escort them out." Gojo chuckled, a lighthearted twinkle in his eyes. "Ah, come on, I've got manners," he retorted, his voice filled with feigned innocence.

He followed you into the kitchen, the ease of your banter a testament to your deep friendship. You started gathering ingredients and utensils, setting about the task of preparing a meal for the two of you. It was a scene that showcased their camaraderie, the moments shared beyond the unpredictable adventures that often colored your lives. (Mostly Gojo's, unless going to work is considered an unpredictable adventure.)

As you moved about the kitchen, Gojo took a seat at the table, his grin still evident. "So, this guy you met, is he more handsome than me?" he quipped, his tone playful.

You turned to face him, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. "Hmm, it's very possible," you replied, your eyes twinkling.

The playful exchange continued, a dance of words that had become second nature between you. Talking to Gojo was as easy as breathing, after all this year it was only natural that you were comfortable with each other.

Gojo leaned back in his chair, feigning exaggerated offense. "I can't believe it," he lamented dramatically. "I've been outshone by a random guy from a bar!"

You chuckled, a warm affection evident in your gaze. "Well, Satoru, there's only one way to find out," she responded, her tone light. Gojo's curiosity was piqued, but before he could dig for more details, you raised a hand to halt him. "Actually, nevermind. Sorry, but I'm not sharing any more details," you declared with a playful smile. "I don't want to jinx it." It was a moment of lightheartedness, a comfortable familiarity that made your friendship so enduring.

Gojo's gaze held a thoughtful glint as he nodded in agreement. "It has been a while, hasn't it?" he mused, his words carrying a touch of understanding. You nodded, with a wistful smile.

It's also a dreadful occurrence.

"Exactly, that's why I said I don't want to jinx it," you admitted, her voice soft. As the food was served and you both settled at the table, you mirrored Gojo's grin.

"Funny thing is, I didn't even get his number, or Instagram, or anything, really." you confessed, a hint of disappointment in your tone. "But he did mention he's a regular at that bar."

Gojo's laughter filled the air, his amusement evident. "Well then," he quipped, his tone playful, "guess you'll have to pay that bar another visit sometime soon."

You nodded, eyes sparkling with a mix of playfulness. It was a shared moment of encouragement, a reminder that sometimes taking chances and stepping into the unknown could lead to unexpected connections. Your best friend's encouragement was exactly what you needed at the moment.

"I'll definitely consider it, yes."

Gojo's soft laughter filled the room, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But hey, you know I'm the only man you really need, right?"

Your own laughter bubbled in response as you playfully shook your head. "Oh, Satoru and that fucking ego of yours."

You both focused on your food after that, your voices dying down.

As you took a couple bites, you couldn't help but notice Gojo's sudden shift in demeanor, your concern evident in your furrowed brows. He stopped eating. Instead, he started fiddling with his fork, his ocean blue gaze drifting away from focus.

"Hey, what happened?" you asked, your voice laced with genuine worry.

"If you don't like the food, you can just tell me and I'll make you something else."

He shook his head, a somber expression lingering on his face. "No, it's not that," he said softly, his gaze distant. He looked back at you, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"Thanks for the food, y/n, but I'm just not hungry anymore." His tone held a hint of finality. Without further explanation, he stood up and turned to leave, his words carrying a sense of weariness.

"I think I need some rest, it's been a long night." It was a sudden departure which only left you with a sense of unanswered questions and an unexpected void in your shared space.

You took a deep breath, your worry for Gojo lingering even as you cleared the table and tidied up. With a determined mindset, you decided that discussing it could wait until the morning, unwilling to disturb him at such an hour.

Later, as you settled into bed, your thoughts shifted to Suguru, his enigmatic presence and your intriguing encounter at the bar. The events of the night played out in your mind like scenes from a movie, a delicate tapestry woven into your consciousness.

In the quiet of the night, you found yourself navigating the delicate balance between concern for your friend and the unexpected connection you had found with a stranger. And as the night wrapped around you, you drifted into dreams.

Dreams where everything's just feels right.

moraxine, august 23.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #getou x reader

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brights-place · 4 months

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Dating Spruce aka Bruce

- Okay Okay! Probably the one who's best equipped to be in a relationship out of everyone in the group.

- This man Has an wife and kids

- He’s the heart Throb for an REASON - Speaking of which, if you think him settling down in the movie and having kids of his own was cute - he has ways with kids and I headcannon he made funny faces for branch when branch was younger in the BROZONE Eras - when first seeing you when he first arrived to Vacay island he was in awe. - You offered him an job and place to stay if he would work for you, you hit it off and formed a relationship with each other. - he couldn't believe there was another troll in the area and gladly took the job - would help you around the restaurant whenever he could. - he owed you so much for you welcoming him and offering him an place to stay - He's the heart throb which drags in the customers which you tell him is good for business - You liked him for his personality and how kind he was to everybody. -You would praise him every time he helped you out and if he just did something simple for you. - You gave him an shell necklace you found after searching through the beach and looked through shells intensely after an year of him staying and working with you for so long - He noticed you sticking your tongue out focusing on putting the shell you found perfectly that would look good - When you gave it to him he was shocked and took it gently afraid it would break - THAT WAS THE EXACT MOMENT HE REALIZED HIS FEELINGS FOR YOU - When seeing you blush and looking away thanking him for his hard work he was shocked - He planned on confessing to you at sunset on the beach after a couple months later - When he did you blushed and you both agreed to take it slow - HE WAS THE HEART THROB FOR AN REASON - First date at an cafe and second date at the beach he confessed to you again - would give you your favorite flower on each date - Would continue to go on more dates and would start officially dating on the 2nd one cause you knew he was perfect for you. - Bruce is loyal, dedicated, and protective of his partner

- Bruce is known for his great sense of humor and being able to make his partner laugh

- Bruce always tries to find the positive in any situations - He loves food he's an foodie but he mostly loves your cooking - The menudo he was eating was made by you and he loves eating it - You and him cook together smiling at eachother lovingly - Vacay Islanders thought you where dating cause you two would hold hands and held eachother close before you started dating and because you two where the only trolls in vacay island - if you ask about his brothers he'd sit you down and complain to you about them but he will also go on and on about them one by one, and go into some detail about what kind of person they are and what he loves about them. - Bruce has a fondness for romantic gestures and will often surprise his partner with thoughtful gifts, gestures, and surprises - Bruce is a gentleman and treats you HIS partner with respect and care always putting their needs before his own JHABIVWRINS - Bruce is a passionate lover, and he is known for being a great kisser cause he was the heart throb for an reason - Bruce is a passionate listener and always tries to understand his partner's feelings and needs whenever he can

- See's you listening to brozone and would grin seeing you dance and sing his parts would walk towards you and sing with you - will praise you for minor or major accomplishments. even if you don't think something deserves praise he gives it to you anyways. he's so proud of you and you would do the same back. - He secretly adores that we look at him so fondly while working

- Small Little 18+ thing he has an breeding kink - Planned on proposing to you one day he has it hidden inside an drawer where you'd never find it - Planned an whole future with you two together having kids and would smile when staring at you when you talk about if you should have kids - In the future when the others come to try get bruce aka spruce to join you guys had... too many kids

- You would grin greeting bruce is siblings in shock and just gave an thumbs up - You two kiss goodbye and waved godbye you were stuck with the kids.. The kids had pink eye - Bruce would be an sweet and loving boyfriend and husband forever you can't change my mind <33

#bruce #bruce trolls #trolls band together #bruce x reader #bruce trolls x reader #bruce headcanons #trolls 3 #Trolls #Trolls X Reader

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totallyboatless · 5 months

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It is time, friends, for another Pip's Weed Essay game. The rules: I'm about to take an edible and start writing a mini-essay in one sitting. I edit a tiny bit as I go, but for the most part this is on the fly. I've thought about this topic a lot, but haven't outlined it. I'll let you know when the edible hits, but there's a chance you'll realize it before I do. (PIRATE FRIENDS STICK AROUND - this is Pip from the future, I get pretty high in this, but anyway I'm here to tell you that this goes in a very unintended OFMD direction that i'm still reeling from. Anyway back to Past Pip)

Edible ingestion commencing, time: 7:37pm Mountain Time

I polled my followers for the topic, so today we're going to talk about:

Fixing the Puck Problem

I've read and seen A Midsummer Night's Dream more than any other Shakespeare play. At this point I don't know if I've seen it so much because it's my favorite, or enough opportunities for me to see it have lined up that it's become my favorite by default. It's easily the Shakespeare play I know best. I haven't seen a staging that I fully disliked, but there are two elements of this show that I feel like are rarely handled the way I want them to be.

Problem one:

Puck will never be as funny as Bottom

It's common to consider Puck to be the main character of A Midsummer Night's Dream. He's at the very least the most famous character in the play. Puck is a dream role, and obviously with his being a fairy, he's usually directed to be weird and whimsical--and a lot of the time, playing for laughs. It makes sense, he's a trickster, it's built into his nature.

But in modern day, his lines and actions don't translate as well as Bottom's. In all of the times that I've seen A Midsummer Night's Dream, I've *never* seen a production where Bottom fails to steal the entire show away from Puck. I've had multiple experiences where I could feel the director wanting me to laugh at Puck; I could see the reasons for the direction, but it just wouldn't hit. In those same productions, I've laughed so hard at the Bottom scenes that I cried.

I'm thinking particularly of the 2010 production with Judy Dench reprising Titania (honestly still in shock over seeing that lolol) and the 2019 Bridge Theatre production (which you can find streaming, it's *incredible*).

In the 2010 show, the Puck actor kept doing what honestly felt like a Woody the Woodpecker impression lol. He would pause for laughs and they just...wouldn't happen. Meanwhile, Bottom was set up with the kind of success that let him steal at least one scene from fucking Judy Dench.

In the 2019 Bridge Theatre production, I genuinely like the direction they gave Puck--he's a weird little twitchy Irish punk doing fucking aerial silk shit. But even with a unique vibe and a fun performance, it's still not enough to outshine Bottom.

Basically my thing is that I want to get to the end of A Midsummer Night's Dream and feel more connected to Puck. I *want* him to be my favorite. And there's just absolutely no way to make him my favorite if his core purpose is to be funny. Puck is supposed to be a larger-than-life being--the audience is never going to buy that when he's not even the largest character on the stage.

The second problem is smaller, and in fixing it there's also a fun chance to fix the Puck problem:

Problem two:

The audience usually doesn't understand why Titania and Oberon are fighting.

If you've gotten this far you're probably already a nerd who knows this, but gonna pose the question like I've done for other people I've seen the show with: Why are Titania and Oberon fighting? What's the core reason?

Bc you're a fucking nerd you probably yelled CHANGELING! Which yes, good for you, if I had become the Shakespeare professor I wanted to be but didn't have the money to become, you would be in my class and I would throw a snickers at you for a reward.

But the thing is, a *lot* of people who only know the play casually don't know. And most productions don't assist them in knowing.

Elaboration for non-nerds: Titania had a "and they were roommates" totally not at all lesbian relationship with a human women who was pregnant. The women dies in childbirth and Titania takes the child to raise, and she cherishes him more than anything, which is an extremely straight thing to do. In the play, the character is only referred to as the changeling. Oberon gets super jealous of this kid and wants to steal him away and make him join the Wild Hunt so that he can have Titania's full attention back, because he's got that issue creepy men get when they have kids and then are like "I'm jealous of my son because he's making it less likely for me to fuck my wife" and it's like "dude calm down with this projection of an Oedipal complex."

If you're not a coward and read Titania as in love with the changeling's mom, then Oberon's issues are maybe slightly less creepy, but like not really

So that's it really. Titania loves this kid of her sapphic lover that died. Oberon is jealous about it. He decides to play a trick on Titania both as a way to get revenge, and also as a distraction so he can steal the kid.

But the issue is that 1.) all of this is communicated in a long and kind of boring speech, and 2.) the changeling literally never has a line and also no stage directions

The 2010 production had a hot dude chained up and writhing on stage in a kind of hot dance snake movement thing when Titania talks about him, but most productions never even have an actor cast as the changeling. I was really shocked they didn't have anyone for the 2019 production, given how much I love most of the rest of their choices.

OKAY SO. We now have the two problems: Puck isn't the fan favorite even though he should be; and most people in the audience have no fucking idea about the changeling.

(THIS IS HIGH PIP FROM THE FUTURE I FORGOT SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT TO THIS PROBLEM: If you do know about the changeling/follow along with that plot, it's *very* hard to root for Titania and Oberon when they reconcile. Which can be fun and cool and a little hot even maybe if you're going all dark, but thIS IS A PLAY ABOUT HORNY FAERIES HAVING A GOOD TIME so I won't be having that. I want this play to make me like that Titania forgives Oberon so easily. Okay Past Pip, take it away)

lol okay yeah weed friend has landed, I just wandered away for a minute with a desperate need to put taquitos in the air fryer. Time stamp: 8:16.

OKAY FOR REAL NOW LET'S GET INTO:

Pip's Most Ideal Staging of A Midsummer Night's Dream Which Fixes the Problems in Theory

The Staging:

First off I want the production to be in the middle of the literal woods where there's pretty lights in all the trees and people are sitting on blankets and have snacks and drinks and drugs and whatever they want, and the whole staging has the actors weaving through the audience. Not just theatre in the round, full immersion

I also want people to not fully know where the production is, just that it's on the outskirts of the forest, and then the actors emerge from the woods at a designated time and bring the audience to the secret stage section. And ideally this would be like a park on the outskirts of woods so that there would also be people there who wouldn't know what the fuck was going on. And ideally some of the fairy actors convince them to come along and the people go having no idea what they're about to get into. That's how A Midsummer Night's Dream is meant to be experienced in its purest form: with actors dressed as fairies trying to seduce unsuspecting strangers to follow them into the woods to an unknown location where they'll probably be offered drugs.

TAQUITO TIME

Taquitos acquired.

Puck's direction and motivation:

When Puck is first introduced, it's by a fairy called Peasblossom who's otherwise not a big part. Peasblossom lets the audience know who Puck/Robin Goodfellow is by basically going stan-mode and being like "holy shit you're famous." PB literally starts listing his greatest hits.

So picture with me: instead of an extremely fairy-like whimsical Puck, I want a Puck that wanders on-stage like a burnt-out rockstar. Cigarette in one hand, beer in another. Probably on a cocktail for faerie super magic mushrooms. Just fully numbed out. In this moment, Puck feels way more human than faerie--and I want the performance to be in a way where that feels off. To have it be communicated in manner and clothing, and the juxtaposition of PB recounting Puck's glory days, that Puck hasn't always been like this. This isn't a faerie trickster in his prime. This is a man who's lost all sense of fun and is going through the motions.

That's what happens, right, when you become just a little too famous?

Puck is the only one of the main characters who gets to the end of the show and is entirely alone.

(my favorite thing about being high is how *good* it makes food taste, these taquitos are not fancy but with the power of the devil's lettuce it's so good--oh my god I have Dr. Pepper)

(I'm back with the Dr. Pepper. I'm having fun, are you guys having fun? If you've made it this far i kiss u)

So Puck is alone at the end of the play while everyone else of import is either with their lover or with their theatre-kid-found-family. And it's largely because Puck lives between worlds. He's not powerful enough to be fey royalty; he's Oberon's right-hand man, but he's not Oberon's peer. But the lower fey court are also not his peers -- they treat him like a celebrity, he can't actually connect with them. He's not allowed to frolic and play with them anymore, not really.

With this interpretation and direction, we now have a Puck whose action in the plot can lead to a happy ending (keep with me), and whose existence isn't just to be quirky and whimsical for the audience. Instead it's a Puck with a motivation: he's lost all joy in his job, he's disconnected from him community, and Oberon only treats him like a fuckbuddy so he's sexually frustrated. (Oh right yeah I was supposed to write about how Puck is in love with Oberon. He is.) That's all fucking sad, bro! And you know from the Pip that traveled into the past that this play is fun and should be fun!

Now for the final part, where we put in the special ingredient to tie this particular Puck direction into the happy ending:

LET'S 👏 GET 👏 GAY 👏

Do you guys (gn) remember the changeling? It was like possibly an hour ago, the time-warp this particular edible always sets me on has fully set in. It's possible this essay is like 5k words long. It's also possible it's only 500 words long. I wish I was lying when I told you I don't know.

Anyway, the changeling. Let's make him a fuller character and let's give him to Puck wrapped up in a sexy, charming bow.

Picture this: The Changeling, from now on capitalized as a character, shown on stage in Titania's court. Locked up like a princess in a tower because Titania is desperate to protect him. And the Changeling is all *sigh and flutter big beautiful princess man eyes* because he wants to explore what's out there. Because he's a man who's grown up and been forced to live between two worlds. He's not fey royalty, he's not Titania's actual kid and she kind of honestly treats him more like a momento of her lesbian lover than an actual adopted kid. He can't be one of the fey court, because he's not fey, and also he's not allowed to frolic and play with them.

That should sound familiar to you if I did it right.

Puck and the Changeling, both feeling the same sort of empty spot. So let's smush them together.

Give the Changeling all of Peasblossom's lines. It makes more sense for a detail I left out before, too--Peasblossom doesn't recognize Puck they see him for the first few lines. Once they do they're all like "omg you're the dude that makes people horny for each other and also some other trickster things." They know all of Puck's stunts, but they don't know what he looks like? It's clearly an exposition device, but it's a weak one (sorry, Shakesy). He's the rockstar of the fey world. You'd have to be living under a rock or, I dunno, locked away like a beautiful man-princess --

(Okay you know where I'm going and I have to stop there because I'm cry laughing, I swear to you -- I swear to fucking god, guys, I wish I was joking -- I thought I was being cute and clever saying "man-princess". Not because of irony. IT'S BECAUSE I FORGOT THERE IS A WORD FOR A PRINCESS WHO IS A MAN AND THAT IS A PRINCE. Okay i should clearly wrap this up lol)

In this staging, the Changeling clearly doesn't want to be locked up. So...he finally finds a way to sneak out. He goes on a romp through the forest and that's when he runs into Puck (this is the scene where we first meet Puck). The Changeling wouldn't recognize Puck, though he's have heard of him. He probably loves stories because what the fuck else does he have to do, so he's asked the fairies to tell him about Puck's adventures over and over. Meanwhile, Puck wouldn't recognize the Changeling because Titania has been keeping him so under lock and key. It allows an opportunity for them to connect on more of a peer basis as they--

Holy fuck. Wait. Hold on. Is the Changeling Stede. Is Puck Ed. What the fuck. Did I write an AU on accident. I don't even like AUs very much (sorry AU writers it's not personal it's just not my thing).n ANYWAY sorry for the pirate aside. God this is properly off the rails now.

They like each other, you get it. And now Puck has someone he wants to impress. There's not a lot of opportunities to give the Changeling more lines, but that doesn't mean he can't appear on stage. He can stay with Puck (hiding from Oberon whenever he's there, leading to some good chances for physical comedy) and go on the nighttime adventure of his dreams.

This leads to a fun, unique choice: having Puck fuck up the love flower juice plan on purpose. So that he can show this hot dude following him around with wide enthusiastic eyes the kind of things he's capable of OH MY GOD THIS IS ED AND STEDE I SWEAR THIS IS NOT ON PURPOSE I AM JUST NOW SEEING THE PARALLEL

Okay we're nearly at the end I promise. We just have one more problem to solve: How are we supposed to root for Titania and Oberon to get together when Oberon literally publicly humiliates her and then steals her adopted son and forces him to join the Wild Hunt even tho Titania REALLY doesn't want him to? Well, the first one is easy, Titania and Oberon are so fucking kinky, and Oberon likes getting cucked (remember he's only jealous of the Changeling, never the lesbian).

The second one is also easy. Make it the Changeling's choice. Leaving Titania and joining Oberon's court means two things: He gets to be with Puck, and joining the Wild Hunt allows him to go on exciting adventures. If Titania saw that the Changeling wanted this with the staging that both Titania and Oberon look over and see Puck and the Changeling making out right after Titania's spell is broken. Then Oberon can jokingly delivers the line about having stolen the Changeling, realizing that the plan worked but in the most ridiculous way possible. And how could Titania not find joy in all of that?

It makes me so much more glad to see them get back together.

Puck's closing soliloquy is his most famous, but I like his last big monologue right before it better. There's a very important line he says that communicates an important shift within the context of his particular staging:

And we fairies, that do run

We.

Puck isn't a lonely, washed-up rockstar anymore. He's part of a "we." Not just the Changeling, but the other fairies, too. Puck and the Changeling act as bridges for each other, to be part of each other's worlds in a way that feels like a whole -- OH MY GOD IT IS ED AND STEDE

Puck being alone on stage isn't so sad anymore, after all that. Because Puck, who starts off the play with so little sense of belonging, now has so much to go back to.

And that's it, that's my ideal staging of this play. Honestly, I really, really want to direct it. I have no experience directing but I have the audacity to think I could do it lol. No resources, tho

OH ONE LAST THING HELENA NEEDS TO BE INTO PUP PLAY

also the lovers are all in a polycule, that's just a given, any other staging is cowardly

alright bbye

[exit]

final time stamp: 9:25 PM, not rereading, just hitting post. We die like Mercutio.

#Pip's Weed Essays #shakespeare #shakespeare staging #a midsummer night's dream #ofmd sort of i don't know how this happened #i mean it could have influenced me coming up with this staging??? It must have somehow??#I didn't start conceptualizing it until this year #I wasn't in the middle of a pirate hyperfixation at the time tho #but i guess they just always are there in the back of my head #shakespeare analysis

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