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standfucker · 3 months

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Hello!! I've been thinking about an AFAB reader in the straw hat crew who dresses as a man. Short hair and masculine clothes that cover her up. She doesn't want people treating her differently or going easy on her in fights because of her gender hence her constant charade. Because of this the crew doesn't know that she is actually woman. I'd like to request drabbles of how Zoro, Sanji, And Luffy would react when finding out and where they would. Also, SFW please!

This was fun! ^^ Thanks for submitting a request! I tried to keep these a consistent length and failed. Each one ended up longer than the last... I'll have to keep trying harder to pace myself.

Discovering Your Secret - Monster Trio

CW: chest binding, canon-typical violence, injury (not described in detail), gun violence, battle trauma, nudity, awkwardness

Luffy

Group bathing was one bonding activity on the Sunny that you had to miss out on. Shyness wasn’t like you, but the guys chalked it up to a weird personality quirk and long since stopped questioning it. Some people liked their privacy, no big deal. Really, it was never a problem until Luffy barged into the bathroom one day while you were soaking, the door swinging open so hard it bounced back shut behind him.

You tried to shout that the bathroom was occupied, but it was drowned out by Luffy’s own yell of “GUM GUM CANNONBALL!” The next thing you knew, Luffy had somehow launched himself out of his clothes and into the tub, making a massive splash that took out half the water. It was only by sheer luck that he didn’t collide with you.

Instantly you sank down low into the remaining water so only your head was above the surface. The clear water offered no protection, however, so you had to cover your chest and cross your legs. Embarrassment and panicky fear were rotten feelings to have when you had just gotten relaxed, and you found yourself getting angry on top of it all. This was such a stupid way to be found out, and it was only because your captain lacked any self-awareness.

Luffy came up with a laugh, then opened his eyes and blinked at you for a second. “Oh, hey!” he said, oblivious to your stress. “I didn’t know you were in here! Robin told me she just drew a bath, so I came in. Didn’t hear the rest of what she said–I guess she drew it for you! Shi shi shi.”

You stared at him, open-mouthed, too stunned to speak right away.

Luffy’s brows raised when you didn’t respond. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t like to bathe with others. Sorry!” “Luffy?” you tried, but he kept talking.

”Well, I’m here now, so we might as well share! We can wash each other’s backs.”

”Luffy.”

”What are you so shy for, anyway? You look fine to me.”

”Luffy!” you snapped.

”What?”

”Get out!”

”But I’m already wet!” he complained, and you mentally screamed at his stubbornness.

”Then I’ll get out! But you have to look away!” you barely managed to keep from yelling at him, trying not to lose your cool lest he get suspicious.

Luffy pursed his lips. “Fine, sheesh. I won’t look.”

He turned his head away. You hesitated, then quickly stood up and made to leave. You took one step onto the tub–and immediately slipped, thanks to the water Luffy splashed there a moment ago. A yelp left you as you fell fast.

”Y/N!” Right before you hit the tub, Luffy’s arms shot out and wrapped around you, pulling you safely back inside. “That was close!”

You froze in place, heart in your throat both from the fall and from your new position. Luffy’s arms were wrapped around your torso. He could clearly feel your chest against his rubbery arms. You gaped at him, wide-eyed in shock. Luffy smiled. Then he squeezed you again and frowned. Slowly, he looked down at your chest, then down even further.

”WHAT?!” Luffy yelled in shock, his eyes bugging out. “Y/N got attacked by Iva?! But when did you meet him?!”

You facepalmed hard.You’d heard about Ivankov through Luffy’s stories, so you had an idea of what he was talking about. But he missed the mark so hard it was astonishing.

Luffy quickly unwound his arms from around you and covered his face, stammering. “I’m sorry, Y/N! I had no idea!”

Even though your own face was hot, you couldn’t help but start to laugh, though it was a bit nervous. As you carefully exited the tub, toweling off and pulling on a robe, you contemplated letting Luffy go on believing you were attacked by Iva. But then you would have to make up a story about meeting him, and lying to your bright-eyed captain seemed wrong. He meant well, after all.

Maybe this whole charade was unfair to him. Luffy couldn’t hold onto a secret to save his life anyway, so once he knew, the whole crew would know too. Still…though it would be a big change for you, it would be one less thing to worry about…

You draped your towel along the edge of the tub and perched on it, crossing your arms. “What did we learn about respecting people’s privacy?”

”I’m sorry,” Luffy said, peeking through his fingers before lowering his hands. “I didn’t know you had a reason…I won’t do it again! But when did you cross paths with Iva? During the two years I was away?”

”No, Luffy. I’ve never met Ivankov.” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I’ve been a girl this whole time. I was just pretending to be male.”

”Whaaat!? Really?” Luffy’s eyes bugged out at you again. “But why?”

You did your best to explain your reasons. Luffy only seemed to grow more confused as you went on, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

”I don’t get it. Nami and Robin are strong,” he said.

“Never said they weren’t,” you replied patiently. “But Nami and Robin get underestimated constantly. Maybe they’re used to it, but I can’t stomach the idea. It’s insulting.”

“Hmm…” Luffy thought for a second. “Does this mean we can’t wrestle anymore?”

“Of course we can! The whole point is that I don’t want you to treat me differently!”

“Oh… Oh! I see!” Luffy said, his eyes lighting up with realization. “Okay then! I’ll whoop your butt like normal!”

A warm feeling filled your chest, and you smiled. Now he was catching on, and he didn’t seem to mind. The relief was almost dizzying.

You asked Luffy to try to keep it a secret for now.

He lasted about three weeks, until he asked you one day, point-blank in front of the others: “Hey, Y/N? Where do your boobs go when you get dressed?”

Zoro

“Behind you!”

Zoro’s shout made you whirl around, raising your weapon, but your opponent was already on the downswing. Their sword cut your chest open from clavicle to rib. Pain sizzled out from the gash, hot and burning, but in addition to that, you could feel that your binder was damaged, freeing your breasts. You grit your teeth through the pain and managed to strike your foe down. Then you hunched over yourself, arms crossed over your chest, quivering. The warm blood on your arms told you this one might be serious, but despite the wound, all that was on your mind was getting found out.

Zoro rushed to your side, mowing down foes as he went until he was there. “Did they get you? Let me see.” But you shook your head. “Let me see!” he insisted, an edge of panic to his voice as blood dripped onto the ground below you.

You looked up at him with visible fear, which he misunderstood. “You’re going to be okay, but you have got to let me see.”

Shaking, you lowered your arms, revealing your wound and your secret all at once.

Zoro’s eyes widened, momentarily speechless. Then he snapped out of it, hurriedly taking off his shirt and wrapping it around your torso. He picked you up, one arm supporting your bottom while the other tucked you against his chest to hide your front. You pressed your face into his shoulder, discomposed from the shock of the injury and from the sudden reveal.

What would he think of you now? All the times you arm wrestled, all the times you sparred, all the drinking contests and shared conversations and shared fights–would you never experience them again? You kept asking yourself those questions as Zoro took you out of the slowing battle.

Chopper was shocked, but promised to keep your secret. However, after he found out that you’d been binding your chest with bandages almost 24-7, he scolded you harshly, going on about how you could permanently damage your body.

At your request, Zoro’s the only one Chopper let visit you in the ship’s infirmary. For a while, Zoro didn’t say anything, just stared at your bandaged chest with an unreadable expression.

“I wanted you to respect me,” you said, breaking the silence. He didn’t respond. “I could never be your equal otherwise. Please understand.”

Zoro looked down at you and gave a heavy sigh, eyes distant for a moment. “...You remind me of someone I used to know.” He sat on the edge of your bed, some softness to his gaze now. “I get it. I get why you hid this. But you’re an idiot.”

”I know. I let myself get hurt.”

”No, dummy. Because you treated the crew like we wouldn’t understand. You didn’t trust us. It makes sense in the beginning, but after all these years?” He frowned at you, and you realize that deep down, he was hurt.

”I didn’t want anything to change between us.” You looked away, ashamed. “Between you and me.”

”It doesn’t have to.”

”You don’t like to fight women.”

Zoro grimaced at the accusation, knowing you’re right. The infirmary was quiet for a minute.

”I’m sorry,” Zoro finally said. “I’ll…I’ll do better. Nothing has to change.” He paused, and offered up a smirk. “After all, I go easy on you anyways.”

You feel yourself tear up at his acceptance, and grinned back at him. “Once I heal up, I’ll make you regret that.” You paused, face falling. “You won’t tell anyone, right? I don’t want Sanji to…you know.”

“Yeah.” Zoro made a face at the cook’s name. ”It’ll stay between the three of us,” he promised. “I still think you should tell them, but it’s not my secret to share.”

”Maybe in time. I’ll have to think about it,” you said, and he nodded.

Zoro held out his hand. You clasped it in a big swing, grimacing when it made your wound sting, and squeezed as tightly as you could.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Zoro said, squeezing back. “Okay? We’re still buds.”

”Okay.” Again, you felt the tears threatening to spill.

”But if you cry, I’ll make fun of you.”

”Shut up!”

Once Zoro realizes you were hindered by the binder for all of your matches against him, he got fired up. All the times he won, you had a handicap–it wasn’t a fair match, he decided. However, there wasn’t really a place on the ship where you could take it off in front of others, so he was forced to remain undecided on the topic of which one of you is stronger.

It wasn’t until you revealed your secret to the others that you and Zoro finally got to have a proper, no-holds-barred sparring session. True to his word, he didn’t hold back, too battle-hungry to care if he touched your chest when you wrestled or exchanged blows. (Sanji snarled in the background, but neither of you were paying him any attention.)

As it turned out, when you let your aching ribs heal and could breathe properly, you were far better than you were before. You ended up almost defeating the swordsman, and he was so proud of you that he threw an arm around your shoulders and noogied your head until you were certain he left track marks in your skull. “That’s my girl!”

Sanji

The impact of your sword against your opponent’s knocked the weapons out of the both of your hands. Undeterred, you dashed forward to take them on barehanded, confident in your unarmed strength. Right as you reached them, they drew a hidden flintlock from their back belt, and touched the muzzle to your forehead.

You froze. The battlefield seemed to fade away, nothing solid or corporeal except for the gun to your head. You couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in your ears, feel anything but the cold steel pressed to your skull. Everything rushed through your head in one synaptic burst, a thousand million thoughts of how soon, how final this was. All the years of adventure, ending here. One slip-up. You were going to die.

You couldn’t even feel regret. Just the sensation of your heart beating as if it was in every blood vessel. You didn’t hear the call of your name, nor the shouted “Diable Jambe!”

In the time it took for your opponent to squeeze his trigger finger, Sanji appeared seemingly out of nowhere and kicked the guy’s hand so hard you saw it break. The gun fired into the ground a few feet away from you, and with another burning kick, Sanji knocked him out.

You were in shock, standing there unharmed, but useless. Sanji took notice, calling for you again. When you didn’t respond, he rushed to you and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you hard. “Get it together! We still need you!”

Suddenly the sound, the sensation, everything came rushing back, hitting you all at once. You blinked, glanced at the surrounding battle, then at Sanji’s tense expression.

“Y/N!”

“I’m okay!” you said. “T-Thanks. I’m okay.” With that, you rushed for your fallen sword, ready to rejoin the battle.

It wasn’t your first brush with death, but this one rattled you worse than the others. After the battle you dwelled on it constantly, thinking back to that moment and breaking out into a cold sweat even though you’d just cleaned up. You couldn’t think about anything else, focus on anything going on around you. You skipped dinner, stomach too upset to eat, and were barely able to sleep despite your exhaustion from the day’s battle. You skipped breakfast the following day, and only around lunchtime did your mind seem to catch up to your body. You watched Luffy and the crew mess around, playing and laughing and arguing, and suddenly you realized that you almost lost this forever. Immediately, the urge to cry overtook you with tremendous force. You hurried through the ship’s interior, shoved yourself into a corner, and sobbed into your hands.

Dead. Oh god, you were almost dead. How was it that easy? All the strength you had worked so hard to build, meaningless. How could you have been so overconfident? How could you have let yourself lose so easily? Had Sanji not been there, you would have been gone. Gone.

The tears ran hot down your cheeks, and you bit your tongue to keep from being loud. It could have gone so much worse. Sanji was dependable, but tended to keep his eye on the girls during fights. He only saved you because you were close by. It was sheer luck that he saved you. Only luck.

“Y/N!”

Sanji’s call of your name made you go quiet. You resisted the urge to sniffle, even as your nose ran. If he found you…it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but you’d rather not be caught crying. You spent years building the image of the stoic, masculine fighter, and would prefer to keep up that appearance. Sanji called you again, closer this time, and you cleared your throat.

“Yeah?” you called out.

“Lunch is ready, so hurry on down,” he announced from the doorway, just out of your vision.

It took you a minute to gather yourself, but after washing your face and regulating your breathing, you were ready to rejoin the group once more.

In the weeks following, you dealt with your shock and processed it the best that you could. Eventually you started sleeping better again, your appetite returned, and life seemed to go on as normal…except for one thing: Sanji. He started acting strangely when he was nearby.

It started off small. He was far more pleasant around you than he normally was. Not that you and Sanji held animosity toward each other, but usually he treated you like another male: friendly enough if you weren’t Zoro, but not to this degree. He never really brightened up at the sight of you before. Nor did he ask for your opinion in his upcoming meal plan for the week. At first you chalked it up to him noticing your earlier distress somehow, but after you got better, he kept on acting saccharine.

One day, he brought you a drink. Not served you at the table with everyone else, but went out of his way to bring it to where you were sunbathing on the deck. You could only stare at him until he awkwardly left it by your side, stammered something about the heat, and then left.

Incidents like that kept happening, usually out of sight of the other crewmates, but not always. The others started picking up on it too. At one point, Sanji brought Robin, Nami, and Chopper slices of cake–and then brought you a plate as well. That time, everyone’s eyes were on him, but Sanji pretended like nothing was off.

When he chirped “Hi, Y/N-chan,” to you as he passed by you in the hall, you had enough. You grabbed him and shoved him against the wall, hard. He immediately knew he messed up, but despite your fingers fisted in his collar and your murderous expression, he only flushed red.

“What are you doing?” you hissed.

“I–I’m–” Sanji stammered. Blood started to run from one of his nostrils.

“Why are you acting like this?” you demanded. “Being all sappy and disgusting to me. Who do you think I am?”

“I–I’m sorry,” Sanji tried. You grit your teeth, beginning to fear the worst.

“Did you lose all respect for me when you saved my life?” you asked bluntly.

“Of course not! I think highly of you.”

“Too much so, don’t you think?” you had to struggle not to shout. “Is this because you heard me crying last month?”

Sanji shut his mouth, glancing aside and giving away the answer. He nodded.

“Am I weak to you or something?”

“No, that’s not it–” he tried, but you pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back into it.

“I don’t understand! You’re too soft with me. Why are you treating me so nicely?”

“Because you’re a woman, and women deserve the best.” He said it unflinchingly and with conviction, looking right back into your eyes.

The answer was obvious, but a part of you still hoped it was something else, hoped that because he didn’t go overboard with his affections that he didn’t know. Your grip on his collar weakened and gave away along with your hopes, hands hanging limply at your sides.

“When did you find out?” you asked quietly. “Or should I say, how?”

“I saw you crying.” Sanji pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his nose.

“So?”

“You may look and act like a man…but a woman’s tears leave no room for doubts.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Unfair. That’s what this was. Just unfair. Because after all those years living as a male, you got found out because of Sanji’s freakish sixth sense for women. Your sigh was heavy, and you had to rest your head in your hand for a moment.

“Okay, well, we need to set some things straight. You can’t keep slipping up around me, or the others will find out. They already suspect something’s up.”

“I'm trying!” Sanji retorted. “I knew you were hiding it for some reason, so I tried to keep myself in check! Do you know how hard it’s been?”

“How hard it’s been?” You wanted to punch him. “You have no idea what I go through every day just to keep up appearances! Just to earn the regard I deserve! Why couldn't you respect me as a man?”

“I don't respect men.”

“Ugh!” You punched the wall by his head instead. Sanji didn’t flinch. “You have to take me seriously.”

“I am!”

“We can’t keep going like this.” You bit your lip in frustration, trying to think of a solution. Maybe you could use his weird complex around women to your advantage, if he would just stop giving it away. “Okay, listen. Sanji. If you really want to do me a favor, the best thing you can do is help me keep my secret. That means whenever you have the urge to treat me like a girl, you nip it in the bud. Can you do that?”

“I…I’ll try.” Sanji went to take your hand, but you yanked it away.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about! You can’t be so familiar.”

“I’m sorry. It’s hard! I–I want to treat you right. I want to be close to you.”

“I want to be close to you to,” you admitted, surprising yourself. “But I. I’d… I’d rather hold onto my secret.”

He looked hurt, which sent a cold pang of guilt into your stomach. Reaching out, you patted his shoulder. “I’m depending on you, do you understand?”

Sanji took in your expression–serious, worried, uncertain–and nodded. The hand that reached for yours instead went over his heart. “I promise,” he said, “I will do everything I can to help keep your secret.”

The talk with Sanji helped massively, fixing his odd behavior around you for the most part. There was one thing he couldn’t give up, and that was giving you a nickname. He called you something in French–“mon petit chou,” he would say–but as it was foreign, you figured it was safe to use around the crew, and let it slide.

It was only a few months later that you learned Robin was fluent in French.

#replies #luciledreamz #zoro x reader #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #x reader #one piece imagines #finished requests #zen writes

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redriotinggg · 4 months

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Straw Hats reunion on Sabaody except SanUso are a couple and Sanji came back as a transwoman (shoutout Iva!). [read on ao3]

Usopp sees Sanji and his heart stops beating. He had imagined a million ways their reunion might go, and this was one of them, but he never thought it would ever become a reality. It's Sanji, beautiful as ever. The same but so different. Usopp looks at Sanji and is mesmerized by her shiny, long blonde hair as it cascades over her shoulders. He's enchanted by her artful makeup and the way her goatee has filled out, now complimented by some hair on her upper lip. Those lips, so full and tinted with a rouge gloss that stains the cigarette clenched between her teeth. She's got on a suit just like usual and her legs are long like usual but now she's got curvy hips and--Usopp chokes--boobs!! Sanji is so beautiful and looks so happy and Usopp cannot contain his joy or lust upon seeing her exist as her true self.

Speaking of lust, Sanji absolutely loses it when she sees Usopp. She's overwhelmed by the way Usopp is looking at her. She hadn't expected disgust from her boyfriend because he is sunshine incarnate and knew she was trans before she'd admit it to herself. But to have him look at her with such obvious pride drives her crazy. If that wasn't enough, she has to deal with the fact that the past two years have been extremely kind to Usopp. Her boyfriend is fucking hot now. He was adorable before, but now he is sexy, with his biceps and pecs and abs and back and smile and confidence and-

Sanji wakes up with a groan, squinting against the harsh sunlight. Warmth floods her chest at the sound of a familiar chuckle.

"Well, nice to see you, too."

Sanji realizes she's now lying down on the grassy deck of the Sunny. She groans again, realizing that she probably passed out--possibly from blood loss. Someone has got their arms around her, holding her up. Not just anyone. It's the object of her affection and the reason for her current state.

Sanji closes her eyes, squeezing them tight. Her body shakes as Usopp laughs.

"Oh, not so nice to see me after all?"

"More like it's too nice. If I look at you I'll definitely pass out again," Sanji admits. A moment later, she takes a chance to peek anyway. She gets an eyeful of Usopp's thick, muscled chest and shuts them again. Nope, nope! She can't handle it. She rests her head on that chest, relishing the way her whole body moves with his as he laughs again. Her wraps his arms around her and she feels safe.

"Nice to know that that part of you hasn't changed," Usopp teases. The softness of his voice as he utters his next words has Sanji's heart beating wildly in her chest. "But so much of you has changed. And I'd love to see it. Will you let me?"

"You can look at me if my eyes are closed," Sanji tries to argue.

"Yeah, but it's not the same. Please, Sanji? For me? I've waited two long years to be with you again."

Damn it all. Damn, Usopp and his sweet words. Damn, Sanji for being so weak for Usopp and double damn the sniper for being unshamed to use that fact to his advantage. Sanji loves him so much.

Using all of her courage and finding all of her self-control, Sanji opens her eyes and finds Usopp's.

Usopp's eyes have the same joyful, curious sparkle they always have and Sanji blushes as they look at her with wonder and amazement. Usopp runs his hand over her hair oh-so-gently, appreciating its feel and length. Sanji still has half of her face hidden, but now, her long bangs fall over her right eye. She is perfect in every way and Usopp doesn't know what to do with all the love pent up to bursting from inside him.

He also doesn't know what to do about the embarrassment that fills him as Sanji sits up and gazes at him just as intently. Her hands run over all the muscles he worked hard to obtain during their time away. She twirls her fingers through his long, curly hair and brushes them over his soul patch. She smiles at him and he can do nothing but smile back.

"You're so beautiful," the lovers say in unison. They laugh together, and unable to wait any longer, they finally seal their reunion with a kiss.

"Get a room!" Zoro and Nami yell from the sidelines. The navigator scoffs and the swordsman rolls his eye when they're met with two middle fingers courtesy of the couple still engaged in a lip lock.

They'll let it slide this time. It's a celebration, after all.

#sanuso #usosan #sansopp #transfem sanji #usopp #black leg sanji #god usopp #sabaody #one piece #I CARE THEM SO MUCH #i wrote this in a 15 minute frenzy I need to go lay down #red's writing #red's fic

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tiffanylamps · 1 year

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🔥🔥🔥🔥 of course, some beyond evil hot takes 🔥🔥🔥🔥 but also, what is some controversial opinion that you have about something entirely mundane :^0

ask me ask me ask me baby (Disclaimer: I started writing this, then had dinner, watched an episode of Bros on Foot, then had a shower and now I'm pretty exhausted (thanks rona + bad health). So my answers may seem a lil disorganised... they most likely are) Oh, gosh. I don't think I have that many opinions that are actually controversial when discussing be. But I shall still give it a go. I going to put a break here 'cause I really didn't know when to shut up. Also, sorry Iva but I feel like my answers are things we've already spoken about. So, I don't think any of this is new information to you 😩 TL;DR: Dong Sik and Joo Won shouldn't be represented by one aspect of their character. They're more complicated than that. (Including a mundane opinion at the end) (please excuse any weird funny business in this post (writing, grammar, spelling, clarity), we're trying our best here at Lamps HQ)

i. We as a fandom baby Dong Sik too much. I love Dong Sik. I adore him. He has seen and experienced far too many traumas, and I want nothing but good things for him in his future. What happened to him and his family when he was 20 was a tragedy that could have been avoided if the system (which should be in place to aid victims) wasn't systemically corrupt. He was beaten by police officers whilst in custody. He was framed and belittled, degraded, and humiliated. (the trauma he experienced is so layered and would take a lifetime for him to unpack and get closure from).

It almost completely ruined his life and future prospects, and it would have been done if Nam Sang Bae hadn't come in with his lvl 100 guilt and tried to make up for his actions. Dong Sik tried to make the best out of the awful circumstances that befell him and I sincerely admire him. Not everyone is as kind and loving as Dong Sik.... But but but... Buuuuut that doesn't absolve him of his actions. He murdered someone with his bare hands and allowed the system that was once put against him to be used in his favour.

Police officers shouldn't be murdering civilians. full stop. Yes, he was emotionally compromised- technically it could be seen as self-defence, but an unconvicted man, a suspect, was murdered and Dong Sik didn't face repercussions. Nam Sang Bae skewed the evidence so Dong Sik didn't get into trouble. Dong Sik took a year (?) off work after that event and to "help" him recover, Sang Bae got Dong Sik transferred to his substation (which Sang Bae had been demoted to as a result of one of his rookies dying on the job. Although, it wasn't deemed much of a punishment considering he was so close to retiring anyway). All the while, Dong Sik feels justified for his actions (as he did when he moved Min Jeong's fingers). (Screenshots from the translated script book/author's notes doc)

I think it's best that when discussing and exploring Dong Sik's character, we remember that he is a man capable of murder. He is a murderer. (Do I blame him for what he did? No, not really. I can see why he did it. Objectively, I fucking love it for the narrative lol). But yeah, he isn't a guiltless sweet baby angel who never did anything wrong in his life. (DISCLAIMER: obviously jokes are just jokes. I love them and I never want them to stop. I am super guilty of participating in this line of joking and I'm not about to stop any time soon. But when discussing DS in serious conversations, we shouldn't erase his history. By doing that, we are devoiding him of agency and retribution (which is one of the main arcs/themes of his character development)).

ii. Joo Won is autistic and people need to stop calling him stupid. I will die on this hill, I don't care. I fully encourage everyone to bully Joo Won, because, well, he fucking deserves it. I know that bullying him is a hilarious love language the fandom has developed and I fully participate in this pastime. I honestly love it. Yes, he has done a lot wrong and shouldn't be absolved of his sins (that being said, we should allow him the space to learn and grow. We should learn to forgive whilst still keeping him and ourselves in check). But where I draw the line is when people outright laugh at his characteristics/actions which are derived from the fact that Joo Won is coded as autistic.

I know not everyone is going to be particularly versed in neurodivergent symptoms and that is completely fine. I even didn't fully clock Joo Won being autistic the first time I watched the show- I "labelled" his actions as a result of one) his obscenely privileged upbringing and two) the fact that he (imo) has some degree of OCD (which is a type of anxiety disorder). Then it hit me one day that he is soooo autistic. A few examples (I'm too ill to list each one or go into full detail): 1- People say that he's a bad detective. Which, ugh. 2- That he should have seen the "obvious" signs that Dong Sik wasn't the killer earlier. This sentiment completely ignores the timeline of the show and the fact that the viewer is provided information that Joo Won doesn't have access to. And it also removes Dong Sik's accountability for being purposely obtuse and antagonistic. 3- the whole (very minor) narrative that joo won is lame because he has terrible people skills (or something along those lines, I can't quite remember the tags I read as it was a while ago). This one, in particular, ties in with Joo Won's autism coding. With a (relatively sound) understanding of what autism looks like in male adults, to me, it would seem that a lot of what Joo Won does (speaking bluntly, getting easily confused when provided a lot of information during an intense situation, overwhelm, struggling to gauge people's emotions/tone, being very black and white, hyper focussing on a topic of interest, struggling to adapt to new social environments, masking, issues with food and sensory stimulation, etc) can be credited to autism. Perhaps I'm connecting dots that don't exist and am projecting an ideal onto his character, but as someone who grew up with multiple friends and family members who are neurodiverse (and is neurodiverse myself), I can see so many similarities between Joo Won's actions, thought processes, and mannerisms to that of a person with autism.

^ (credit) here is an overview of some characteristics of autism in adults (obviously, it's a complex topic which differs from person to person. But I can definitely connect many of these examples to joo won's character and actions). [I feel like I could say a lot more about this subject, but it would be distracting away from the original point. I have thoughts on Joo Won masking and how he struggles to mask around Dong Sik]

How does this relate to Joo Won being "stupid"? One may ask. I will try to explain it as best I can (even though I don't fully have my answer planned out). Labelling Joo Won as stupid, as a stuck-up nepo baby who did nothing for the storyline, or just a useless dolt that needed Dong Sik to spoon-feed him, completely misconstrues the source material. Joo Won is intelligent, hard-working, determined, stubborn, foolish, annoying, pompous, proud, narrow-minded, snobby, short-sighted, dedicated, loyal, loving, persistent, and perceptible to change (and even more than that). We wouldn't have a story if Joo Won was stupid. We wouldn't have a conclusion if Joo Won was stupid. Downplaying Joo Won's intelligence and chalking up his characteristics as something that makes him less-than does a complete disservice to his character as well as his importance within the story. Beyond Evil is a story with TWO leads. It's not the Dong Sik show. I can NEVER subscribe to the act of bringing one character down in order to hold another up. Dong Sik is not this all-seeing, all-knowing, flawless character. If he was, he would have never been framed for murder, he wouldn't have been stuck for 20 years, and he wouldn't have needed help in uncovering the truth. He needed Joo Won (and Ji Hwa, Jae Yi, Jung Je, Ji Hoon, Du Soo, Sang Bae, etc). Without Joo Won, he may have never found out the full truth of what happened to his sister (as how many people in his life had a part to play in the traumas he faced). So, I think it's about time that people start to recognise Joo Won as a neurodivergent character (and stop giving him a hard time for not seeing signs that WE were given), as well as stop downplaying him. Kim Soo Jin, Sim Na Yeon, and Yeo Jin Goo created such a multi-dimensional, complex, flawed character with good and bad qualities, it does a disservice to their creativity and hard work when one belittles Joo Won down to one descriptor. Dong Sik and Joo Won aren't just the idiot and the downtrodden. They're more than that and fan interpretation shouldn't rewrite the facts of the show.

Anyway... there's a point in there somewhere... I think... I have no idea if I managed to construct a reply that makes sense. I don't think I fully relayed all my thoughts on this particular matter, but we live. tbh, I feel very icky when an autistic character gets labelled as stupid or useless. It gets on my nerves and if it wasn't obvious, I am pretty protective of Joo Won (maybe I shouldn't be, but... well... here we are!). Also, as a note: I don't expect anyone to agree with my opinion that Joo Won is autistic. But yeah, I was going to include more "controversial" opinions for be, but I have already said way too much. This post reads like a rant - which it probably is - and I don't want it to ruffle anyone's feathers. It's not an attack, it's just my opinion.

As for the mundane opinion: iii. kiwis are the scum of the fruit world. They're nasty and a lot of effort to eat (considering they don't taste great), and their texture is gross. But I do think their furry shell is pretty neat, even if it makes my skin cruel. (idk why this was the first thing that came to mind lol)

(sorry Iva. Maybe one day I will learn how to give short answers😂🫣)

#ask answered #ask game #chatty lamps #thank you <3 #beyond evil #i'm ill and yet I manage to write this beast of a post. this is what this show has done to me. i just can't help myself 😂#i do have more opinions for be that are less intense and a lot more fun but... i guess i wanted to have a bitch and moan #as a pre-emptive warning:#rn i will not be taking constructive criticisms. maybe in the future. but right now??? I'm trying not to be miserable #soooo if anyone thinks i suck for what i wrote then... 🤷‍♀️ idk... maybe keep it to yourself

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srjlvr · 2 years

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YOURS, CLASS PREZ !! // get out

The exam was easy, you’re used to be the only one in the class after everyone already submitted their exams and moved on with their life. If there’s anything you loved more than making Jungwon pissed off, it’s to stay until the very last minute of the exam.

You made sure your answers were well answered and full with lots of explanations and examples. You like making your teachers work hard by checking your exams. That’s why you’re the top student.

Everyone in the school knows about you, even teachers that don’t teach you, heard about you once or twice, you’re determined and desperate to top the whole school and make everyone know you. You’re sure you’re loved by you’re teachers and they respect you more than they should, so why did your teacher looked at you so deadly in the eyes?

Right after your exam you nervously passed through your friends to your teacher’s room. You heard giggles and laughs before knocking the door and it became quiet right after you did so. The door opened and you saw your teacher smiling lovely at you.

You gave her a big smile back and entered her room, you stopped walking right when you saw him, sitting on the chair in front of your teacher. Everyone in school knows how you two despise each other, if there was a bigger word than hate, it would’ve probably describe your feelings towards each other.

As soon as your eyes met his, you shot him a glare, that didn’t stop him from returning the glare right back. “Please, have a sit YN” You teacher pointed at the chair right besides him.

Out of respect you smiled and nodded, sitting on the chair right next to him, looking so disgustingly at his direction. “I called you two over here since,” She sighed, “I know you don’t like each other but we have no choice,” She bent over her desk, “The school needs you two to work on a project”

“TOGETHER?” You shouted in sync and immediately shot a glare afterwards. “I’m sorry i’m not working with her”

“What’s wrong with “her” ? If so, you’re the problem here,” You rolled your eyes, “My dear teacher, you know how I very much don’t like his figure, especially when he’s right here breathing next to me, please don’t make me live in a nightmare” You cutely smiled, hoping she would let you go.

“I would love to but, the principle wants no other but the two of you, i’ll be here to help you as well” She exclaimed. Jungwon groaned and you sighed, “Am I going to get a bonus if i’ll do this?” You curiously asked.

“You sure will” “I’m in” You both said in sync again, “Will you stop repeating me? God you’re so fucking annoying can’t you just shut up?” You were about to throw hands on each other for saying the same thing at the same time.

“This is going to be interesting” Your teacher giggled. “The plan goes like that, the school wants to throw a big show that will be on the news as well, a talent show for the kids in this school, we hope that a few of our students will be taken as trainees and it’ll help the school to get more famous as well”

“Why didn’t you just fake a murder in this school to make it more famous?” You casually asked. “A bit edged don’t you think?” She giggled.

“That’s the plan anyway, we’ll start working on it starting the next week, we’ll meet up in my room for an hour so you’ll update me with how the things are going, good luck!” She let you two off and you ran out of her room.

NOTES: yo that was kinda long im sorry💔💔 uhh hope it was good enough!! ty for reading<3

TAGLIST: @enhacolor @luvryuj1n @deafeningballoonnacho @lovienikitty @notrosemary @fairycheol @harperwasstaken1 @icywhatim @lil-iva @love-4-keum @anotherimaginesaccount @i4cho @nakolvr @tlnyjoong @hiqhkey @theboyzrightherex @pr0dbeomgyu @randomness7198

SYNOPSIS: In which the school’s top students, also known as the biggest class presidents of their own class and rivals, has to work on a huge project for their school and compete in a national competition……all together?!?

☆ ★ // previous — m.list — next

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commander-anya · 6 years

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me, wide awake at 4 am: what if bellarke never becomes canon?

#at the end of s4 I had no hope #I basically lost all hope when I saw how the writers and cast members talked about the show after I finished watching the first 3 seasons #early s5 I had hope #mid-late s5 I had none #the finale gives me mixed feelings #Idk it’s confusing bc one on hand I can’t ever even see them becoming canon or what that would be like on the show #but then on the other it’s like I’m stupid for seeing this and wanting them to get together so bad for years if it never even ends up #happening #at least I know that I’m not the only who would feel that way and that’s why I really appreciate that there is a Bellarke fandom #if only it was so INTENSE all the time maybe I’d get more active in it again but idk it really sucks ass sometimes #wasn’t*#anyway that’s a different conversation #can you tell I’m bored from my many textposts tonight #jadjjaaks okay I’m gonna shut up and go to sleep before Iva murders me in cold blood #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #bellamy x clarke #maru speaks

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tooweirdforyou · 3 years

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How ASL Bros React To Getting Married To You

A/N : well, I reallyyy want to write a nice long fic but like.. life man. I’m on spring break and have work all week and with my sleep problems 😭 just enjoy this please c:

Summary : what the asl brothers wedding would be like.

Luffy

“Woah! You look awesome, [Name]!”

So cheery and wholesome.

Zoro is his best man, ( much to Sanji’s dismay )

EVERYONE is there, every single person he’s ever met is there so it’s crowded and you basically had it outside, in Foosha Village, though he wanted it to be on the ship.

All of the girls Luffy’s met is responsible for your appearance, they all helped you on your big day.

Some of the marines were invited, of course.

Luffy’s best mans/groom mans ( idk) ( other than Zoro ) consists of Sabo, Ace, Sanji, Usopp, Franky, Brook, Law, Shanks and Koby.

Your bridesmaids consist of Nami, Robin ( maid of honor ), Perona, Tashigi, Vivi and Makino. ( shirahoshi and others didn’t have too much room to stand by you because of the guests so they just sat in their respective seats.)

Before it officially started, there was a lot of tension so separation in seats were needed. Big Mom’s crew is sitting on the left back, Marines in the front right, Law’s, Kid’s and Shanks and other pirates are put in the right back, and everyone else Luffy knows is in the front right.

Few are still in shock because of the fact that LUFFY is getting married before them.

A lot of yelling and laughter from everyone is around but as soon as the classic music is playing in the background, everyone shuts up and turns to face the back, where you’re walking with Garp.

Old man Garp is the one taking you, and even he is full of tears from the fact that his own grandson is getting married.

“You take care of my dumb ole’ grandson, you hear? If he ever becomes too much of an annoyance, just knock him a few times in the head.”

And when you finally reach him, everyone is quiet and has the proudest smiles on their faces. Their Luffy is all grown up.

His bright, radiating grin is plastered and he is pretty overwhelmed but right now, you’re distracted by his handsome look in his suit.

Of course, he has shorts instead of long dress pants but he still looked handsome regardless.

Vows are said, rings are given and you smile at Luffy as the minister ( Sengoku ) questions your commitment.

“Do you, [ Name LastName ] take this complete fool, Monkey D. Luffy, as your everlasting husband and, future pirate king?”

Chuckles are heard, and you couldn’t suppress a giggle either. “I do.”

“I see. I wish you luck on this journey. Luffy, you may now kiss the bride.”

Claps are heard around as Luffy grins. “About time!” He cheers and pulls you by your hands, quickly smashing your lips together in a kiss.

“Congrats, Luffy!”

“Not bad, Straw Hat.”

“Where’s the beer? Time to party!”

“Alright, Luffy! Woo!”

Music is quick to break out as everyone is celebrating and cheering.

You and Luffy already cut the cake, ( it took you a lot of force to make Luffy not shove his face in the cake and just CUT IT. )

The giant cake made by Sanji and the Big Mom family, was shared for everyone and there was still plenty left.

And it was just a fun time with everyone. You even threw your bouquet(?) behind you already and it seems the next to be wed was Tama!

Clearly some of the women weren’t too happy to see the little grow becoming married before them but it was a nice laugh.

The night goes on and it’s getting late. Guests are leaving after wishing the two of you well and you two head in for your suite that Nami booked as her present.

“It feels normal. I thought this was some big special thing, why is it such a big deal again?” Luffy questions, forgetting what the girls had told him the several nights before about weddings.

You smile gently and set the last wrapped gift to the side with the others, taking a glance at the shimmering ring on your left hand.

“Because,” you spin around and face your husband, reaching over and taking off his straw hat that he kept on.

“It swears our connection and commitment to each other. Why do you think Shanks married Makino, despite their long distance relationship?”

Luffy offers his gentle smile, seemingly more relaxed at the mention of the two of the most important people in his life, out of many.

“Because they love each other?” He guesses calmly, tilting his head and you nod, giggling at his black hair that swayed.

“And I love you.” You whisper, leaning closer and felt Luffy’s arms enveloping you in a tight hug, his face nuzzling into your neck.

“I love you, [Name].”

And he leans back, connecting his lips on yours.

Ace

“Oh..wow..”

Oh boy, did the Whitebeard crew go BIG.

I have a feeling that Ace would want something a little normal or smaller perhaps, just inviting his personal friends and family, and maybe a few people he met along the way of his journey.

He’s a friendly, outgoing person but for a personal occasion, it’s best to stick with the people you’re closest to.

But he wasn’t complaining when he saw the large äss party, feast and the important people in his life showing up.

Sabo, Luffy and his crew, Shanks, Makino, all of his brothers, members of his old crew, Garp, he was thrilled to see everyone!

The wedding was held on Whitebeard’s ship, of course. It wasn’t too fancy or grand but still pretty large and the ship was right in the middle of the sea.

Ace is all dressed up handsomely in his suit, with the help of Marco, Vista and Izo. His hair isn’t too messy and just styled neatly.

You were dressed beautifully in your gown/suit, with the help of the nurses, Nami, Robin and Izo.

There was a bit of trouble with seating but naturally, many people stood up anyways and were quite busy throwing confetti and other things at you, even if it was a wedding.

Whitebeard is taking you down the aisle, it’s a little bit difficult but he still did, and you can bet he’s excited to have a daughter/son that will help watch over Ace’s dumbass self.

“Rough him up real good, take good care of my stupid son. And call me Pops!”

When Ace sees you walking down, he’ll admit, he’s teary. He’s actually found love, someone like him.. and he’s about to be married to you, the most amazing, attractive, and sweetest person he’s met.

You look so amazing in your outfit, he’s in tears. He’s so lucky.. Marco has a hand on his shoulder and patting his back. “Congratulations, Ace. You deserve this.”

Wiping his tears with his finger, he nods and exhales, holding the widest, warmest smile he could muster.

He was going to love you and protect you all of his damn life, that’s for sure.

The minister is actually Vista! Ace’s best man is Marco and his groomsmans all include Thatch, Luffy, Jozu, Izo, and Haruta!

“Do you, [Name Lastname] take this young kid as your loyal, lawful and everlasting husband?”

“Really?” Ace pouts at Vista’s joke and chuckles are heard, even yours.

“I do, Vista. I’ll make sure he grows.” You giggle as Ace sighs in exasperation.

“Very well. I now pronounce you husband and wife, Ace, kiss your damn bride already.”

“My pleasure.” Ace grins and he’s quick in pulling your wrist towards him, and spinning you into a dipping motion before connecting your lips together in a kiss.

Whistles and catcalls are heard as loud cheers and applause are made.

“Go Ace!”

“Alright, Fire Fist!”

“Better not lose her, Ace!”

Ace rolls his eyes at the comments from his brothers and pulls you back up with a smile. He’s a little glad he didn’t fall asleep midway because of his narcolepsy.

Party immediately breaks out, Sanji aids Thatch in the kitchen to bring out everything and it’s a long night of dancing, boozing and more.

Ace is just off with the guys, having fun and celebrating while you are off with the women, talking about experiences and such.

And when Ace finally finds you and pulls you two away to his room for some alone time, he pulls you close.

“Well, Mrs. Fire Fist, what do you want to do first?~”

His arms are around your waist as he secures you towards him, a cheeky smile on display on his face.

“Not sure, what did you have in mind?” Playing coy, you shrug and tilt your head, turning away from his face which he pouts and uses his hand to force his back to him.

Pecking your lips, Ace smiles again and leads you to his bed. “I have an idea, if you’re up to it?” He wiggles his brows, making you laugh.

He jumps onto the bed, pulling you with him so you were on top. “Well?”

“Oh! Cuddles, I get it! Sure, I’m tired anyways.”

Ace groans at you, heaving a sigh and he whines. “Come on, [Naaamee]!”

You just giggle and sit up, repositioning yourself on his lap and straddled him. “Fine, fine. You’re lucky it’s our special day today.” You hum.

“Oh? So you don’t want to do this after today is over?” Ace muses, smirking a bit since he knew the answer.

You puff your cheeks out at the thought of not having sex with Ace anymore, but you weren’t going to back down. “..Nope!”

Knowing the truth, Ace chuckles and begins to grind upwards into you.

“Alright, I guess I better make this a special memory to remember.”

Sabo

“You look incredible, [Name]..”

The most average, normal one. It’s traditional, smaller than most would be, and it’s for personal guests only.

So close members of the revolutionary army, his brothers, Garp and Makino were the only ones invited. If Luffy wanted, he could bring his crew but that’s it!

It’s traditional, so it was held inside a chapel, of course. It wasn’t anything special, everything was set up already and prepared for a small group so it was great.

Sabo is in a dashing, handsome suit like Ace was, but somehow has a much more charming, princely appearance. He helped himself in the appearance, with smallest help of Inazuma.

Your dress too! Somehow it’s more Royal appearing and your veil resembles a crown in a way. Koala and Iva helped you out in this!

Sabo’s best man is actually Ace! The strongest brotherly bond overpowered the thought of having Kuma, Iva or Luffy as a best man, but fortunately, they didn’t seem to mind, since they were groomsmans anyways. Iva being both bridesmaid and groomsman.

Ace was pretty teary and honored, and felt so excited.

The one who takes you down the aisle is Dragon. He’s a little awkward about it at first but he is quite proud of Sabo, even if he doesn’t openly show it.

“Take good care of him, alright?”

“I will.” You assure, thanking him when you finally reach the point of Sabo’s side.

The whole time, Sabo is staring at you in awe, feeling speechless. How did he manage to get someone as beautiful and wholehearted as you?

He can’t contain his wide grin and excitement, his hands just a hint clammy from the nervousness of possible rejection. But he knew you loved him. Because he loves you.

“Someone looks handsome.” You whisper in a giggle and Sabo chuckles. “Not compared to the beauty you have right now.” He winks.

The minister is actually Kuma, of course. Kuma was the obvious choice. Kuma took the position with gratitude.

“[Name Lastname]. Do you take Chief of Staff Sabo, as your lawful, loyal and everlasting husband?”

“I do.”

“Congratulations. I now pronounce you husband and wife, Sabo, please do the honor of kissing your bride.”

Sabo is the most natural approach, taking a step forward and cupping your cheeks in his hands and pulling you forward, for a kiss.

Cheers and applause are made and heard, and Luffy, being the brother he is, pulls out a loud confetti popper and pulls it, it shooting it out everywhere like fireworks.

“Congratulations, you two!”

“Alright, time to get drinking!”

“Better not let this get in the way of your missions..”

“Luffy, how’d you even get that?!” Sabo widens his eyes and he laughs. “Franky made it for me! He said it’ll be super, for the wedding!”

“Geez..”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips and Sabo finds himself laughing alongside you and the whole place is soon filled with laughter and cheer.

It’s a small family party but it was still pretty chaotic regardless, and Sabo makes sure to take you outside for some fresh air when it becomes nighttime.

“Hey, feeling okay?”

Taking a seat on the bench nearly, Sabo sits beside you and you nod, immediately leaning into his shoulder.

“It’s overwhelming, I guess..” the warm smile that spreads your lips is contagious as he does the same when he sees it. “But,”

You take a look at your ring finger, that held the beautiful silver ring and diamond. “I couldn’t be happier with today. I’m married to the love of my life.”

Sabo smiles gently and closed his eyes, leaning against the backrest and let the moonlight light against his face.

“I am, as well. I couldn’t be any luckier to be married to you now..” taking your hand in his, he intertwines your fingers and brings your hand up to kiss.

He kisses your ring finger specifically and hums.

“Thank you.. for being with me.. I love you, [Name].”

“Of course. Thank you for being with me. I love you, Sabo.”

A/N : well! This was sweet~ I feel bad for Luffy’s part because it’s not the greatest. :/ but I hope you enjoyed! :D

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #one piece writing #luffy x reader #fire fist ace #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d. ace #chief of staff sabo #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo x reader #sabo x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #straw hat luffy

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

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Creatures in the dark Part 2

Pairing: witch!Steve x Reader

Warning: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, allusion to non-con.

Words: 2454.

Summary: A monster dressed in human flesh was waiting for you in the woods.

Part 1

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That night neither your grandfather nor you returned to your beds. Despite being afraid of revealing your secret, you told him everything: about the Plague and your encounter with the dead and the boy with a lantern who you thought came to save you. Your grandfather, and old, but tough man, had cried upon hearing your story, and you cried too. You didn't remember him dropping a single tear when his wife or grandson had died, but now his face was all wet.

Once the first ray of sun reached your house through the crack in a wooden shutter, the old man rushed to the witch living in a hut at the end of the village while you stayed home, putting more ash to the door. You didn't know whether the monster lurking in the woods could walk in the daylight, but you didn't want to risk it. Maybe he wasn't as powerful as the Plague if her mark prevented him from casting a spell on you, yet he was obviously strong enough to tear a human being apart.

You had no idea how much time you spent there all alone, praying in the corner, but your grandfather returned with both the witch and one of the elders, all of them with grim expression on their dirty faces.

"Not good, not good." The old woman whose grey hair were covered with a bleak blue scarf told you, spinning around you and shaking her head. "Not good at all."

"What's not good, granny Iva?" You asked, calling her the same way you did when you were a little girl. "What do you see?"

"The blessing of the Rotten One does no harm to you, dearest child, but she gave it to you for a reason. The boy you saw was no boy at all. His scent is all over you." Her quiet raspy voice sounded like a thunder to you.

"We'll wash it off!" Your grandfather exclaimed in despair. "I'll bring water and wood to the bathhouse-"

"Silly man, no water can help you wash it off her." The elder said in return, stepping closer and looking at your forehead suspiciously. "What's already done can't be reversed now. Besides, if the Plague herself had told you it's your fate to meet the monster in the woods, we mortals can do little about it."

"But he'll take me away. He will drag me out of the house and eat me alive!"

"No, my dear. That horned monster doesn't eat human flesh. He came to claim you." The old witch whispered, taking the red like blood beads out of her pocket. "To wed you, whether you come willingly or not."

Horrified with the revelation, you felt hot tears falling down your cheeks, and your grandfather quickly embraced you, dropping a kiss to your forehead. Looking at the two angrily, he shouted, "I'll better die than give her to that creature."

"Whether you want it or not, there's not much we can help her with." The witch bit her dry, chapped lips. "My magic has never been as strong as his even when I was young and powerful. But I keep wondering why Plague had given you a blessing, yet asked you not to run from the monster. Why? What is the meaning behind her words? What strength did she grant you with her mark?"

"H-he said I wouldn't rot now." You muttered, leaning closer to the old man. "Nothing else. What other strength could it give me?"

The woman motioned to the elder, and he returned to the door, opening it a little. Before your grandfather had snapped at him furiously, the witch pointed at something on the floor. As you looked there, you saw nothing suspicious and furrowed your brows. What was there so special? As you turned your head to the woman to ask her, your grandfather suddenly gasped.

"Look! Your shadow!"

Carefully observing it again, you realized yours was much longer than shadows of others, though you were all standing close, and it couldn't possibly be the play of light. You gulped down and bit your tongue painfully. What was that all about? What was this power, if there was any at all?

You slowly moved your arm, and the shadow moved its own, following your command as it always did. Except for its length, there was nothing particularly strange.

"Ask it to move by itself."

"What do you mean? How do I ask for it?"

"Just make a wish, it's simple."

Your grandfather was pretty much terrified with witch's words, and for a moment you thought you had never seen him like that in your entire life. The elder, however, didn't look suprised even the slightest bit, and the old woman was almost eager to see what would happened next.

Chewing your lips to bits, you closed your eyes, scared and confused. The next moment you heard one more gasp, knowing that your shadow did exactly what you demanded it to - detach itself from you and move to the wall behind the witch. Dear God, she was right. The blessing gave you something you shouldn't have.

"I don't understand anything at all!" You exclaimed loudly, tearing yourself away from your grandfather and moving back, covering your face with your palms. "Why didn't she tell me about it? And why give me power if I can't escape the monster, anyway?"

"If you can't run... it doesn't mean you can't fight." The wise woman muttered under her breath, but all of you heard her, and you chocked on air. Fight? Fight this deadly creature wandering in the woods?

You asked the shadow to move to the other wall, and it did it again. Dear God, maybe the witch was right.

"Teach her!" You heard your grandfather's desperate voice and saw him gripping the witch's wrinkly arm. "Take whatever I have, but-"

The elder rolled his eyes at this outburst, shaking his head with irritation. "Are you out of your mind, old fool? We will do anything we can. I have not become the elder to watch young girls being snatched away by monsters."

"And now shut up, you two. We don't have much time before the boy comes back. Bring me the bread, the blackberry, and a few candles, now."

____________

It had been two long days before the witch sensed your monster was coming back. You barely slept, spending all your time listening and doing what granny Iva had told you, watching the miracles you could now do all by yourself. She was right, the Plague did grant you power, and though you barely knew what to do with it, even the possibility to fight the creature brought you so much joy.

The woman called him the witch boy. You found it odd: was he the son of some other witch living in the forest? Laughing at you, the elder pointed out the clear difference: granny Iva was a woman who learnt witchcraft, but the boy was the one who was born with magic coursing through his veins, able to see the ghosts and cast spells most humans couldn't. He was only half mortal, and he was probably born to an evil spirit and a human woman. Judging by the huge antlers growing from his head, he was most likely the son of Yeev, the evil deer living in the Northern forests. People used to make human sacrifices to him, bringing him women he apparently mated with. Granny Iva had never heard of him having any children, but maybe one of those poor sacrificial brides was able to bear Yeev a son.

You wouldn't be able to defeate the boy right away, you realized. Although the Plague had granted you power, it would take time to learn how to use it, and the monster would hardly wait for it. You would have to go with him and figure out how to defeat him all by yourself. However, your magic would be enough to keep him from harming you, and it was already something.

That night granny Iva had given your grandfather a sleeping potion secretly. He didn't know that you would still have to leave with the monster, and you couldn't bare watching the old man struggle against it. It was better to put him to sleep.

When the monster opened the door, you had already been prepared to leave and turned to face him, suddely seeing not the skinny boy, but a huge bearded man who barely fit into the door frame. The ash near the door burnt out the very same moment he stepped inside, blue sparks flying the air.

"Were you waiting for me?" He smiled, walking into the house, his body muscular and strong as if he were a blacksmith.

You gawked at him, unsure whether he was the monster you were waiting for. Where was that little boy with a lantern, unhealthy pale and terribly thin?

"Don't look so surprised, little one. I took this form because I thought you'd like it better." Crossing the room, he barely looked at the elderly man, snoring lightly in the corner, and moved closer to you as you backed away from him involuntarily. "Don't be so cold, love. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You pressed your lips into a thin line, looking displeased and clenching your fists. That monster dared to play with you.

"This isn't funny, boy. Why would I care what form you take?" You said, figthing the urge to grab a handful of blackberries your pockets were full with and force them down the creature's throat. "Just get it over with."

Looking at your grim face, he offered you to take his hand, watching you intently with those dark blue eyes of his, and you reached out to him, biting your lips. You had definitely built up some courage from the night you met him, you thought, as he drew you closer, touching your hair. Running his fingers through it, the boy - the man - smiled at you again and drew a little symbol on your forehead, watching you becoming more nervous. Tensed, you furrowed your brows.

"Let's go." You urged him, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the door. "I don't want my grandfather to wake up and see you taking me away."

The man hummed with content and went after you, closing the door once both of you were outside. Feeling the chill in the air, you rubbed your shoulder and looked back at the man with irritation. He was still smiling at you, and you didn't like it.

Turning away from him, you had placed a few blackberries into your mouth, trying not to smash it with your teeth, and then immediately closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your hands around his shoulders and pressing your mouth to his. The man had opened his lips as if he welcomed you. You felt uneasy when he took all the berries willingly. Apparently, he knew of granny Iva's witchcraft.

"You can give me more." He whispered, his short beard brushing against your gentle skin. "It will be more fun this way."

You growled in frustration at his insolence, grasping a handful of blackberries and showing them into his mouth. Taking them all obediently, the man forced your hand to his lips as he licked the dark juicy drops from your skin, slipping his tongue between your fingers. Your face was growing hot with every passing second, but his grip was too strong to push the monster away.

All of a sudden, the antlers on his head appeared again, surrounded by a halo of cold blue light. The magic was starting to show his true colors.

His mouth was dirty with a few berries that got smashed when you pressed your palm against his lips, and you felt an odd urge to lick the little dark spots in the corners of his mouth clean. Damn, he was using his own magic, too.

"Let's go." You grumbled and started to walk in the direction of the woods, not wanting to awake the villagers. The man laughed behind your back and took your hand, speading up.

The silence between you as you moved was unbearable, but you didn't utter a single word until you finally reached the forest, the mist spreading slowly in between the trees. Glancing at the man, you saw he was still in that new form and chew your own tongue. When he was small, it was so much easier to imagine how you would outpower him.

"Could you please turn into the boy again?" You demanded as he came closer - you tried to hide your fear beneath the irritation.

The man chuckled, "Are you saying you'll be more obedient if I stay like this?"

Reaching out to the pocket of your dress, you smashed a few berries in your palm, colouring your skin with the sweet juice, and drew a sign on your arm before the monster reacted. You felt the wind growing stronger as you smiled at him wickedly. If the Plague herself had given you her blessing, you wouldn't become a mere prey of the creature wandering in the woods. You were not a sacrificial lamb.

The man jumped at you the next moment, and you two rolled on the ground, fighting for dominance. Cursing and growling, you bited and kicked and pushed, feeling the creature's cold hands caressing your body through the clothes. No, you wouldn't let him take you like that. Not now, not ever. Gathering all your strength and covering your palm in smashed berry pulp, you grabbed one of the antlers, and the man moaned under you, his huge form slowly changing until you saw a skinny boy lying beneath you. Amazed, he stared at you and stroked your hips lovingly with his arms growing warmer, licking his lips.

"You are so pretty." The boy muttered, looking at you through his trembling lashes. "Kiss me. Please."

Although you wanted to get up, instead you leaned closer, dropping a kiss to his soft discoloured lips and brushing your nose against his. Inhaling his earthy smell, you moved away quickly, glaring at him. Damn it, his magic was still bending you to his will.

"Don't you understand I won't stop?" You grunted, squeezing his antler stronger and making the boy wince and moan again, sitting on top of him. "I will learn, and I will fight you. I'm not gonna be your obedient little girl, listening to your every whim."

"Fight me." The boy whispered, and you felt something hard rising beneath you, brushing against your thigh. "Charm me; curse me. Do whatever you want to me, love. Just stay close."

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @lovelydarkdaydream

#skinny steve rogers #pre serum steve #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #yandere

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psychedelic-ink · 4 years

Text

Let it hurt

Bepo woke up somewhere in the afternoon, I swear Shachi and Penguin cried when they hugged their friend and I couldn’t blame them, it was one hell of a scare. My surprise was when the bear came to hug me! It’s not like I did anything special, but he gave me a big old hug that would’ve been cute if he weren’t a big furball of sweat right now. Law was the one that pulled Bepo off of me, I just know I saw the captain smile even as he complained that Bepo was now all over him. I don’t know, there was something about the bear that was just nice to be around, I’ve barely known him for a day all together, but if someone hurt Bepo I’d probably tear their throat out with my teeth. Just saying.

“Hey…” I tugged at Law’s sleeve making him turn to me “I need you to point two things for me, the showers and Ikkaku.”

He raised me an eyebrow “Why Ikkaku?”

“Bathing supplies.” I replied “Look, I know my wounds and stitches are still tender, but a girl’s got needs and one of them is a damn shower.”

“As long as you’re good on your word and are careful with those wounds of yours, ok?” I nodded and he looked around “Ikkaku!” I turned to find the brown-haired girl walk over to us “Do me a favour, will you? Take this annoying little cat to the showers, will you?”

I glared over at him as my tiger ears came out “I’m not little!” I say as I have to look up to look at him “And you’re the annoying one, panda.”

That wiseass smirk, I felt like slapping it off of his face “Little, annoying, cat.” He seemed like he was enunciating every damn letter and I couldn’t resist, I threw a punch at his face but he easily avoided it without batting an eye, like he was expecting it and that only pissed me off more “Go take a shower, you smell like a polar bear.”

I turned around to leave, having no idea where I was even heading, but my ears perked up when I heard him chuckle, but that wasn’t all I heard from him “Stay with her, I’m not a hundred percent sure about those injuries.”

“Is it worry I hear in your voice, captain?” she sounded teasing but I didn’t turn around “Hey! Kitty cat! Do you know where you’re going?” I stopped when she called me out and crossed my arms over my chest but this only made her laugh “C’mon girl.” She tapped my back as she passed with a smile “Let’s get my stuff.”

I smiled to her “Thanks Ikkaku.”

She rubbed my head like I was a kid “Cats are kind of obvious when they eavesdrop, you know?” I let my ears shift back to human as a reflex “Don’t worry, I notice cuz I used to have a cat when I was a kid.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping.” I’m aware I sounded like a child but I couldn’t really stop myself “Not on purpose anyway.”

She only laughed and rubbed my head again “You’re adorable!”

We passed through her quarters where she picked up a couple of clean towels, some clothes and her bathing things, then she lead us to the showers. We chatted all the way, she told me about her crew and I told her about mine, where we’d been and where they’d been! I could tell that she barely believed me when I told her about Skypiea, but then again, I’m not sure I’d believe it if I hadn’t been there. She told me about this island where they barely had gravity? It sounded like a blast! And like they barely made it too, but Ikkaku laughed as she said it, so I could tell she had a good time.

The Heart Pirates seemed like a good bunch and I found myself wondering how we even ended up in their care, I mean, I remembered seeing Law and Bepo in Sabaody, they’re hard to miss. But how had they ended up in Marineford? According to Jimbei, Buggy – the only ‘big red nosed pirate’ that I know of – caught us and he must’ve dropped us off on their ship? Part of me wanted to fill in the blanks of what had happened after I passed out, but the other half of me was terrified to even let my mind wonder into that…

What will I tell Luffy when he wakes up…?

“Hey.” Ikkaku gently placed a hand on my shoulder “Do you want me to help you with the bandages?”

I was so lost in thought that I hadn’t realized that we had made it to the showers. I smiled at her “Yes please, I have no idea where to even start.” I started to take off my clothes and I could feel her eyes up and down my body – was I that bad?

“Damn girl, have you been through a grinder or something?”

I looked at my bandage wrapped body and could barely make out what was what. Ikkaku started to help me with the bandages and I could finally look at my injuries from the war - there was the burns from Magellan’s poison all over my body but mostly on my arms; there were the bruises from fighting the beasts and let’s be honest here, from fighting just about every bastard that crossed our path; I had cuts that I had no idea where they had come from, I mean, had I fought anyone particularly alright with a blade? I mean, I only knew that it hadn’t been Mihawk because if he had ‘grazed’ me, I’d have lost an arm or something; I also noticed I got shot a couple of times in the arm?! When did that happen?! There were the injection marks from Iva’s help on my side; my arms were riddled with rough cuts from my wind from the other day and of course… I could tell Ikkaku was leaving it for last, the bandage around my torso… She gently unwrapped it off of me and I had to bite down my lip not to cry. From the top of my left breast all the way down to my right hip, was a slash that wasn’t really a cut, but more like a graze? A graze that had melted my skin and dented my form – Akainu’s magma power.

“Are you alright…?” Ikkaku asked me softly trying to meet my eyes.

I nodded “Always thought scars were cool…” I forced a chuckle and she gave me a tight smile “Don’t get me wrong… It’s just…” I felt my voice shake and knew that if I said that it reminded me of Ace and what had happened that I’d start crying, second time today. No thank you “I’m glad it missed my boobs.”

She laughed and I was glad I had managed to get away with it. I turned to the shower and we kept talking, random stuff, nothing too serious as I tried to sort through the mess that was my hair. I was thankful for her company, without Ikkaku there to distract me, I’d be a mess of thoughts by now and that was the last thing I needed. The big wound across my chest burned with every drop of water that hit it and I was too numb to feel the rest… When I was done, I wrapped my hair in the smaller towel and my body in the big one “Shoot!”

I looked over at her “What…?”

“I forgot clean bandages!” she replied “Wait there a minute, we’ll need to wrap you up again, mummy!”

I pulled up the bench she had been sitting on and waited. A few drops of water broke through the silence every now and then, my wound was burning as I clung to the towels, I figured it was normal – the door opened and Ikkaku had come back. She wrapped me up in bandages again as I got dressed, she had given me clean underwear, some trousers I had never seen and another t-shirt “These should fit, they’re mine.”

I smiled “Thanks.” She just waved me off like it didn’t matter.

After that much needed shower, she offered to do my hair, claiming that it wasn’t every day that she had another girl around, I let her, I didn’t have head to even brush it let along do something. She took me back to her quarters, sat me in front of a mirror and brushed my hair as she talked to me, it reminded me so much of when Makino used to do that. I clung to my trousers remembering how Ace had gone to her to teach him to braid so he could dote on me… How everybody thought he was so polite these days but nobody knew about the intense good manners classes he asked of Makino just to thank Shanks for saving our lives…

I swallowed back my tears and if Ikkaku noticed, she didn’t say. She made a braid on both sides of my head, then tied them up on the back of my head “Your hair is so easy to work with!” she’d say, looking at her thick curls, I wasn’t surprised she thought so. I thought it was a pain, had considered cutting it more than once, but I could never bring myself to, I loved my long hair… I thanked her for her help and I made my way back to the corridors, it was chilly again…

I walked through the crew, said my hi’s and everything and made my way back into the infirmary room I had been in. The door clicked behind me and I cried. Thinking about those early days had always put a smile on my face but now… Nothing hurt more, not even that big wound across my chest. The tears were silent as I leaned on the door behind me, I didn’t want to be heard, I didn’t want to be seen, I didn’t want to feel all of that, I wanted to stuff it all in a box and never look at all those feelings again! I looked up, took a deep breath and tried to rub the tears off my cheeks when my eyes fell on my brother’s hat. It was right where Bepo had put it before and I found myself remembering Law’s words “If you shut it out, it’s not a door you’ll be able to easily open up again.” I pulled myself off the door and walked up to my brother’s bed, leaned on the side of it and reached for Luffy’s hat. Luffy’s hat that had been Shanks’ hat… I put it over my head, letting it settle over the braids that Ikkaku had done and just as it did, the tears came back. I held onto the edges of my brother’s hat and I let it hurt, I let it burn over me as the hat seemed to protect me from the world around me. It was ugly and I made myself feel that I would never see Ace smile again, I let myself remember our days in the forest, I let myself remember the war, every moment of it, how we got to the scaffolding, how Mr.3 helped us get the cuffs off of Ace. I let myself remember how relieved I was when the three of us fought shoulder to shoulder again, how proud I was to be fighting beside my brothers and how there didn’t seem to be a force on this Earth that could stand up to us… I let myself remember the despair that struck me when Ace slipped from our grasp… It all hurts! It tore me apart more than all the wounds I had collected this past month…

When will I stop crying, Ace…?

I woke up to grunts and muffled screams. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I got to my feet and quickly turned to Luffy, he was as still as he had been. I took the straw hat off my head and placed it back over his chest, maybe I had dreamt it? But no, the muffled screams came back and I looked over at the vent over my bed – Law?

I got out the door and straight into his office, he was lying on his couch with an open book over his face, clearly struggling in his sleep. I thought if I should even do something when I heard him calling out for held in his sleep. I walked into his office and closed the door behind me, I knelt right by the couch, took the book from his face – when I noticed the tear stains on his face – and tried to gently shake him awake “Law… Law, wake up… Law, it’s just a nightmare…” he didn’t seem to respond but I tried again “Law!”

“LAMI!” he got up so quickly that I didn’t have time to pull back, we bumped heads and I fell on my ass rubbing my head.

“Ouch…”

“Lu—Luna…?” I looked up at him, he had sat up, his face in his hands and his shoulders rose and fell harshly “Wha-What are you doing here?” he was out of breath, like he had ran a marathon and maybe in his nightmare he had…?

“Sorry…” I whispered, leaning my shoulder on the couch “I heard you having a nightmare… This whole shared wall thing works both ways…” he didn’t say anything and I found myself looking over at the clock on the wall and smiled unconsciously “It’s 3 in the morning…”

“I don’t feel like talking.”

I nodded “That’s ok. Do you want me to go make you a warm drink or something…?”

“No.” he still had his face in his hands.

I sighed, maybe I had stepped over the line “Sorry I disturbed you.” I got up and walked over to the door, I was clearly not wanted there.

I’m reaching for the door handle when I hear his voice again “I was dreaming with my sister…” I let my hand hover in the air “About the day I lost her…”

I glanced over my shoulder “Sorry…” he raised his eyes to meet mine and I took that as an invitation to get back, so I did “May I ask something…?” he nodded as I sat on the couch beside him “How long ago did you lose her…?”

He scoffed away the pain as he rubbed his face again “About fourteen years ago…” he then looked back at me like he had read my mind “And yes, it still haunts me. I told you, it doesn’t go away, you just have to learn to carry it…”

“It’s because I mentioned her before, right…?” I spoke sheepishly “Sorry…”

He shook his head “I have been thinking of Lami and Cora-san more lately, it’s not your fault.”

“Good memories…?”

He leaned back on the couch, looking at the ceiling “Those seem to be the ones that hurt the most, right…?”

“Yeah…” I looked over at his tired expression “I’m told the best way is to let it hurt, though…”

He scoffed again “Is that so? What idiot told you that?”

“A grumpy panda.” I smirked over at him but I was too tired to hold it for too long and he was too tired to pretend to be annoyed at me “It seems to work though…” he raised me an eyebrow “I thought of the day we met him and how much things changed since then…” I chuckled at the memory “Ace hated our guts when we met him.” This seemed to tickle him too “I’m serious… Avoided us like the plague…”

“Can’t blame the guy, you’re a pain.”

I smacked him in the arm “You’re an ass.” But I couldn’t help but chuckle myself. There was silence for a moment and I thought I’d say it “You know… You tell me off, but you do it too…” he raised me an eyebrow again “When the conversation gets a bit too close to the heart, you turn it around.”

He tilted his head as his smile faded again “It’s a bad habit, but what can I do…?”

“Let it hurt…”

#burntsubmit #monkey d. luna #one piece #one piece oc #lunna-star-8 #submission

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gardenflowerswriting · 6 years

Text

“I fell in love with you, not him”

Hvitserk x Reader (mainly)

Ivar x Reader

A/n: So this request didn’t have anyone on it, but I still wanted to do it, so it’s kinda a Dark!Ivar x Reader and Hvitserk x Reader. Enjoy! Gif: whenimaunicorn (i would say the gif is pretty accurate to this, lol.)

44: You have always felt like home

60: You look like you could use a hug

96: Can't you stay a little longer?

99: I fell in love with you, not him

You lifted yourself off the chair in the hall, you were getting tired of see everyones smile painting across their faces, "where are you going?"

You turned back to Hvitserk, "to the hut," you muttered.

He pulled you back down, "can't you stay a little longer?"You rolled you eyes, his puppy dog eyes trying to convince you of what to do. You knew you wouldn't win when he's head nudged its way into your neck, "pleaseee?"

You shoved him away and rolled your eyes, "fine."

His smile reached across his lips, "yes! Lets get you a drink then!"

You filled up with mead as you still sat on Hvitserk's lap, you knew Ivar would be angry when he saw, but you didn't care, if he wanted to have slaves sit in his lap, you would sit in his brothers. You fell back against his neck, "you have always felt like home," the words slipped drunkenly from your tongue, you didn't even realize what you said until he lunged back.

"Y/N?"

You blinked for a while, trying not to match with his eyes, "I should go home, I-Ivar is probably waiting."

When you tried to get up, he pulled you down again, "no, come on, you're drunk. . . he'll be more mad at me if he saw I let that happen," you smiled, he did have a point. Ivar didn't like when you got too drunk, he knew your mind shut off and you fearlessness came out to play.

"Then what do I do than?" You began to play with his hair, twirling it between your thin fingers.

"You can stay in my room, tell Ivar you were up all night or make up a lie."

You raised your brows, "you wish for me to lie to him?"

His hands found a new place around your hips, "if he won't get mad at you, then yes. . . anyway, you deserved this night, Ivar keeps you locked away like a bird in a cage."

He was right, you couldn't remember the last time you had gotten this drunk, let alone sat in another mans lap like he was your lovers, "fine," you began to whisper so no one would here, "just can we hurry, I think I might throw up if we don't leave."

He laughed against your ear, "alright, come along Y/N."

He ended you carrying you because half way through the walk back to his hut, you told him your legs may break if you walk anymore, "how much longer!" You whined against his chest like a child would whine to be in their own bed.

"We are almost there Y/N, if I didn't have to carry you, I'm sure we would have made it," you rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off him and stumbling when you hit the cold ground, "what are you doing?"

You laughed when he rushed towards your side, "I will walk myself, thank you."

He sighed, "come on Y/N, I was just kidding."

You pushed his hands away from your side, "Hvitserk, let's do something! Ivar never lets me do anything!"

You didn't realize you were yelling until his hand covered your mouth, "shhh, alright, alright y/n what do you want to do?"

Your brows pushed together, "I don't know!"

He laughed, covering your mouth again, "y/n shut up."

You pushed his hands down, beginning to whisper, "fine, you pick something." He sighed, but then a wicked smile creeped across his lips, "what?"

"I know."

"What is it?"

His hands covered your eyes as he began to lead your body, "just be quiet, okay?" You nodded as he kept walking. After a while, he finally stopped, "okay."

His hands fell to your sides directing your body in the direction of where to look, you opened your eyes and could barely see anything, but you knew from the sounds where he took you, "Hvitserk!" You squealed turning back around to hug him tightly, "you brought me to the beach?"

"Ya, I know-"

But before he could finish talking to you, you ran out of his arms to the water, even if it was cold you let the end of your dress be touched by it, "come on!" You tried calling him over.

You could barely make out his figure watching with his arms crossed, "you know Ivar will kill you for getting sandy and wet?"

You ran out of the water, grabbing his hands, "let him," you say before yanking him to follow you.

"Y/N!," he tried stopping halfway through, "I don't want to get my clothes all wet!" He said with a smile.

You turned back to him and tilted your head, almost to say, 'really?' He nodded and you sighed, "fine," in almost a quick flash you tore your dress from you, walking towards him with a devious smile, you tilted your head, "your turn."

You could feel his eyes follow you as you began to push his leather down his arms, then his shirt, but he stopped you when you went to show his complete bare chest, "Y/N, stop, we can't do this."

You frowned, "we cannot enjoy a swim?"

His hand caressed your cheek, "no, you and I both know what will happen."

You stared him dead in the eyes, a cool breeze creating goose bumps down your open skin, "Hvitserk," you finally pulled his shirt off, revealing his bare chest, "in truth, I think I fell in love with you, not him," he looked at you for a moment, taking in your words like a cool drink in a hot summers day.

You placed your hand on his face and pushed him into you, his hands went to the small of you back, but you could feel his head shaking, he pushed off you, "no, we can't."

You frowned, trying to reach for him, "Hvitserk-"

"Y/N, Ivar will kill me and you," his hands rested on the top of his head as he tried thinking of a solution, trying to think of a way to tell Ivar how his pet stood naked in front of him, pushing her lips onto his, devouring him in every movement.

"Hvitserk, Ivar won't find out, who will be there to tell him?"

He walked towards you, holding your arms, "Y/N, you and I are both drunk, you need to go home to Ivar, he's probably already wondering where you are," when you stood still for a moment he spoke again, "go!"

You picked up your dress, placing it back on, though some of the fabric looked torn, that was the least of your troubles. You couldn't believe Hvitserk denied you, pushed you away like you were nothing to him. When you pushed the door of the hut Ivar was staying in, you felt your high of drunkenness and lust coming down. You could see Ivar's body lay in the bed, so you slowly lifted the furs to slip in without his notice, but you failed, "where did you go?"

His back was turned to you, "the great hall," you stared up at the cielling.

"Hhm, is that why Hvitserk was gone when I went to look for him."

You could feel the panic set in in the back of your head, you had to tell him the truth, you had to. . ."Ivar, I don't think I love you anymore," the words burned when they came out, like a bad fruit you ate.

You could feel his body slowly turn to lay on his back, "what did you say."

If was almost as though a switch was turned on in your head to set you emotions on because you could feel tears trickle down your cheek, "you heard me," your whisper was low, "I don't love you anymore."

His body lunged to lay over yours, "what did you say? Because I seemed to hear a lie," his hand finding a place to lay over your throat.

"Ivar-" You whimper.

"I don't give a damn if you love me or not Y/N, you're mine! I don't care what you say because you will forever belong to me! Do you understand?" His voice boomed through the small room.

You could feel your head getting aching from the lack of air reaching it, you hands scratched at his, "Iva-"

"Do you understand!" His question rang through your ears as you franticly nodded your head, trying to convince him. Suddenly, you could feel his grip loosen and his body fall to the side of you, "good." You turned away from him, coughing while your hands lightly laid on your neck, your breathe trying to catch up with the amount of air your body demanded to take in. You could feel his hands try and reach around your hips, "y/n," his tone seemed to be so soft compared to the ravage animal in him.

You jumped out of the bed, "don't touch me!" Pointing your finger in his face, "do not touch me!"

His hands tried to reach for you, but you jumped out of the hut, you could hear him faintly cuss under his breathe, but you didn't turn back. You marched your way back to the beach Hvitserk took you to as you could barely see the sun beginning to rise. It was a new day, you told yourself, a new chance of life. You jumped when a voice came up from behind you, "You look like you could use a hug."

You turned to see the middle Ragnarson stand with a sly smile on his face, "hugs don't fix everything in life," you mutter, looking back to the water.

Tags: @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @tephi101

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bellamyblake · 1 year

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tbh I am not defending F.inn and what he did because it sure as hell was a masacre and there’s no denying that but I wish the Arkers had asked for a grounder life in return because the grounders did slaughter innocent kids in s1 without them being at war or attacking, right? they just murdered at least 18 kids too before we got to the final battle in the dropship. If they really wanted peace, F.inns life could be taken but so would a grounder’s one, perhaps A.nyas if she wasn’t killed so early off in the season (which was again an idea that just Jroth loved which is why it happened for shock value). if blood must have blood, the arkers have every right to ask of the commander that they got their blood too for all the innocent children they masacred.

anyway rant over.

#the 100 #i just am saying i find some stuff grounder wise to be really dumb #anyway #shut up iva #the 100 rewatch

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sockablock · 6 years

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Something New for Me and You

• (start) (AO3) (prev) (next) •

Ch. 4: Vanilla, Cream, and Chocolate Shavings

Caleb opened his eyes, and rolled over in bed, and waited for his brain to catch up and tell him what time it was. When the tired answer of “7AM” finally crept through the fog of exhaustion, he sighed to himself, slipped off his covers, and trudged into the bathroom. It was only as he just finished brushing his teeth over the chipped sink in front of the water-stained mirror did he remember that he did not have work today.

Or, rather, that he should have had work today.

He spat out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth. He silently watched the suds swirl down the drain. He continued to stare long after the basin had dried. Then he put his toothbrush back on the ledge next to the green, untouched and very dusty child’s toothbrush that always rested there, and walked back to his bed.

He laid down and stared at the ceiling.

After about an hour, he shot up and marched out into the kitchen.

•

Around this time, Yasha awoke. The sound of pedestrians out on the street and the rush of cars passing by welcomed her brightly, as it did every morning. She rubbed at her eyes, yawned, and stretched.

•

“What’s all this for?” Not asked as she climbed onto the dinner table with a strip of jerky in her hands.

Caleb looked up from the massive pile of newspapers spread out before him, and gently tugged free a page that Nott had taken a seat on. Then he gestured at the nearest advert, which read:

Waiter Wanted—apply at the Meal Hearth, front counter.

“I’m job-hunting,” Caleb sighed. “We need a steadier stream of income than three days at a library and whatever you can steal.”

Nott raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know how to be a waiter?” she asked.

“Well, no,” he admitted, “but I suppose I will have to learn.”

“Maybe I could find a job too?” she suggested. “That way you wouldn’t be the only one caught in the cogs of our terrible capitalist society. And anyways, isn’t it good for you to have some free time?”

Caleb blinked a few times as he tried to process that statement. Then he sighed and said, “As nice as that would be, I do not think it is possible. You aren’t exactly…what, er, what most employers are looking for.”

“That’s true,” Nott agreed, and chewed a bite of jerky. “I’m also not technically a citizen, so that could make things complicated, right?”

“Right. Maybe you should just focus on just having sticky fingers for now. And speaking of sticky fingers, it is time to head out to Oglen’s soon, ja?”

Nott shook her head and waved the jerky in front of his face. “Actually,” she said, “I should head out to Oglen’s soon. You should be getting ready for your date.”

Caleb blinked. “My date? I don’t have a…oh. You mean coffee with Mollymauk?”

Nott pulled out her phone and beamed. “That’s the one,” she said. “He wants to meet up at ten, which is in…two hours. This is the address,” she added, flipping the screen around. “You’ll remember it, right?”

“Ja, of course,” Caleb said, though now suddenly overwhelmed. “But I do not understand why I would need two hours to get ready. Especially for a casual meet-up between acquaintances.”

Nott sighed. “The first time you met each other, it was at a crazy-fancy restaurant and you were in a dinner jacket that Jester custom-ordered for you. He’s going to have expectations.”

“But he was here for movies just two nights ago,” Caleb protested. “I was not dressed so nicely then.”

“That’s different,” Nott said, shaking her head. “There were a bunch of people around then, so it doesn’t matter so much. But when it’s just the two of you, the stakes are higher. You’ve got to be presentable. Come on, Caleb, even I know this, and I’m a goblin.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, sorry,” he sighed. “It has been a while since I’ve needed to bother with this sort of thing. Are you sure this level of effort is required for when two people who barely know each other go to a café?”

“I wouldn’t say he barely knows you,” Nott said, “but yes. It’s even more important if you aren’t familiar, because his impression of you isn’t finished yet. I know these things.”

“Yes, and how do you know these things?”

She shrugged. “Jester let me borrow her magazines.”

“…what are these magazines called?”

“Iva’s Secrets. They’re by some lady who runs a bookstore for ‘young wimmen’ and ‘lonely gents,’ according to the back page.”

Caleb was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed and rubbed his temples. “I am not sure you should be reading these, but I suppose I am not one to stop you from pursuing the written word—”

“—damn straight.”

“—so I will just shut up and…and…prepare for this casual meet-up, then.”

“Great!” Nott grinned and slid off the table. Then she passed Caleb her phone and added, “Here. I’ll leave this with you in case you need to call Molly while I’m gone. Oh, I’m so excited to see what’s in the store today. There are so many shiny trinkets and flashy baubles, and Oglen doesn’t even notice when I take stuff from him to re-sell.”

•

“I’m just saying,” Beau said as she slowly lowered the last of the kettlebells. “You’re going to need a lot of pantry space. Jester eats like…well, like a demon. Or a teenage boy.”

Fjord wiped a towel across his brow. “But pastries don’t even last that long,” he said. “And it’s not like you’re supposed to put them into a cupboard, right?”

Beau shook her head. “The point is that she’s going to try to. And when she realizes that they went stale, like they always do, then she’s going to buy sugary snacks and candy to make up for it. And if you aren’t prepared, it’ll be heaps and heaps of bags everywhere, and you’ll go crazy. Believe me, I’ve been her roommate for like…three years now.”

“And I always commend you for that sacrifice, Beau.”

“Thanks.” She tossed him a water bottle. “Now it’s your turn.”

Fjord took a seat on the bench and sighed. “Moving in together is a real big deal, you know? I just want to make sure everything works out right.”

Beau plopped down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Fjord, relax. She’s head-over-heels for you. It’ll be fine.”

“But what if it isn’t?” he pressed. “What if she ends up hating how much I snore, or she gets sick of me kicking in bed all the time, or what if I have a million little habits that it turns out she can’t stand? I mean, sometimes I leave clothes out, and maybe I forget to put the cap back on the toothpaste, what if that bothers her but she’s too nice to tell me, and it all ends up just…festerin’ until she hates me?”

Beau shook her head. “First of all, if she doesn’t like something she’ll definitely let you know. Nothing gets held back for her, that’s Jester 101. Secondly, if you already know you do these things, then warn her! Set some fuckin’ boundaries! You two need to sit down and have a chat about this shit, right? That’s what we did on day one.”

Fjord nodded, and gave her a weak smile. “Thanks, Beau. That’s…pretty smart.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “I’m an educated motherfucker, alright? Even if I ran away from school, I still know some shit.”

“I don’t really think they teach you that stuff in sch—”

Beau waved a hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. Don’t push it.”

He snorted. “Alright, alright, you got it.”

“Great. Now, it’s almost nine. Get your ass to class. If you fail, you can’t sneak me into the college gym anymore and our entire friendship will fall apart. Hop to it."

•

Mollymauk Tealeaf, standing out on the sidewalk in front of the large windows of the café, checked his phone. Then he examined his reflection the glass, adjusted his jewelry, and checked his phone again.

It was…okay to arrive this early, right? It was the proper thing to do, right? Even if was only 8:45AM and they were supposed to meet at ten, right?

After a few more moments of deliberation, he brushed off his jacket and decided to take another lap around the block. Then he’d definitely go inside and scout out the perfect place to sit.

He could also use that time to decide what to order. Yes. Good. Now he had a plan.

•

“Are you kidding me?” Nott shook her head. “That ring’s got to be worth at least forty. Do you see that? Those little flowers? That’s ornamental, that is. Sophisticated, that is.”

Oglen squinted through the lens of his spectacles. “Flowers? What, the squiggles? Eh…I’ll go thirty, but no higher than that.”

“Come on, come on, that’s genuine bronze, there! Caleb checked it, and you know how smart he is. We’re returning customers too, regulars even. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

Oglen seemed to consider this for a moment, then sighed and lowered his glasses. “Alright, Nott. Thirty-five.”

“Thirty-seven.”

“Thirty-six.”

“Deal.”

He nodded, and added the ring to a growing pile of random jewelry and knick-knacks resting on the wooden countertop between them. Then he made a small note at the bottom of a slip of paper and turned back to Nott.

“Okay,” he said. “What else have you got?”

She reached into her pouch and produced a set of earrings. “Now, don’t try to sell me short again, Oglen. These have got gemstones, alright? They’ll be worth more than a pretty penny to any lady coming here to buy from you.”

The wizened old gnome pushed up his spectacles.

“Bring ‘em closer,” he said. “I’ll be the judge of that.

•

Caleb finally managed to dig out a knit cardigan from the very back of his not-so-large closet, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was old, probably from a thrift store, and unsurprisingly a shade of light brown, but all the buttons were still there and the collar wasn’t too bulky and really, it was the best he could do.

He pushed aside the wrinkled t-shirts and occasional hoodie that had swamped his bed and lay the cardigan down gently on the covers. Then he nodded to himself and walked into the bathroom.

He stared at his reflection for a few moments, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, the pale tone of his face, the overall sunken nature of his features. He ran a hand through his beard, freshly-washed but rather messy and tangled, especially for its short length.

He put his forehead against the mirror. He stared into the sink. He reached a hand into his pocket, pulled out Nott’s cell, and dialed a number.

The phone rang a few times before the person on the other end picked up.

“Hello? Nott?”

“Er, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “actually, this is Caleb. How are you, Yasha?”

There was a brief pause on the end of the line.

“Caleb? Are you okay?”

He gave a nervous laugh. “No, no, nothing is the matter. I cannot just call one of my few friends for a chat? No such thing as pleasant conversation, anymore?”

“You don’t even have a phone you use, Caleb. Try again.”

He sighed.

“Yasha, you have known this group longer than I have. And you are used to dealing with many individuals from your work at the bar. I, on the other hand…I am an odd duck and this group is very large for me. I’ve only had Nott and Frumpkin for a year, you know? Then suddenly I met Jester and you and Beau, which has been wonderful, but now we are adding Molly and Fjord after barely having time to get to know the rest of you, and Beau and I have only just made up over the ‘bowl incident,’ and now today Molly and I are supposed to meet one-on-one, and…and I would like to make a good impression. I would like some advice.”

There was another, much longer pause. Yasha seemed to be trying to think of a response.

“Er, well…” she said, “...well, I mean...I am awkward too, Caleb, but...er...I suppose, if he tries to talk to you, you should respond, and, er...and you should be nice, and…and chew with your mouth closed, and wash your hands…”

And then they were both silent, for a while.

“I am confused,” Caleb said eventually. “Do you…have advice, or—”

Yasha sighed deeply. “Yes, yes, I do, I think, I am…not very good at this. Just, well, just be clean? It helps to be clean. How do you do that, anyway, stay dirty all the time?”

There was another pause.

“I did not mean that to sound so accusatory,” Yasha said quietly. “I apologize—”

“Nein, no, it is alright,” Caleb said quickly, “I got it. I just…er…well, this is a big city. And if you want to go unnoticed, the best way is to, as you said, ‘stay dirty,’ and people tend not to pay attention to you."

“I understand that,” Yasha said immediately. “I like to evade notice too, but I am…hard to miss. Not, you know, not hard to miss in the sense that, ‘woo, I am so pretty, I am so hard to miss,’ but more like…like…”

“Like you are built like a barn.”

“Exactly.”

“You know what I miss?” Caleb sighed, and pulled back to look at his reflection.

“What?”

He ran a hand through his beard. “I miss shaving. Feeling clean.”

There was another pause. Then Yasha spoke:

“I could…er…I could shave you, if you like?”

He blinked. “Was? Really? Have you…done that sort of thing before?”

“Yes, I have. Molly or Jester can tell you. Hang on, hang on, are you at home? I can be there in ten minutes.”

Caleb blinked again. “Oh, er, Yasha, it is alright, I do not think—”

The line went dead. He lowered the phone and stared at the blank screen for a few moments. Then he sighed, and went to go sink his face into a pillow.

•

“Jester,” Fjord whispered to hunched shape sitting next to him. “Jester, do you understand what Anders is goin’ on about?”

She glanced up from her notebook, covered in scribbled doodles and tiny comments in the margins. She glanced around the lecture hall, to the whiteboard, and then back at Fjord.

“Are…uh…are we still on chapter seven?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, good,” she grinned. “In that case, yes, I do know what he’s talking about.”

“Thank the gods. D’you think you could give me a hand, later on today? I’m lost.”

Jester reached over and gave him a pat on the hand. “Of course, Fjord. But really, I think maybe you should just get a tutor. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and Caleb would probably love more business, you know?”

He nodded sheepishly. “I think that’s probably a good idea. Otherwise I might have to kiss goin’ to Soltryce goodbye.”

She gave him another pat. “I can ask him for you later,” she whispered. “Now hush, I am in the middle of telling the Traveler what happened in The Courting of the Crick last night.”

•

“Yasha, is that a sword?”

“Yes? Why?”

Caleb rubbed his temples, and considered the wicked black pommel sticking out from behind Yasha’s imposing frame. The rest of the blade, wrapped in canvas, hung a foot off the ground. All in all, the weapon was probably almost as tall as its owner, which was saying something.

He sighed and waved a hand. “Come in, come in, I guess. You can put your coat on the rack, and…Yasha why do you have a sword?”

She took her boots off and hung her jacket up and followed him into the living room-area of the apartment.

“I don’t know,” she said, “for protection? You never know when you need a good sword.”

“Do…do you need a permit for that, or…?”

She shrugged. “Nobody has approached me about it so far.”

Caleb stared at her, took in her rock-hard biceps and sharp face paint and dead-eyed, cold-faced stare. She was probably a good foot-and-a-half taller than him, and twice as wide.

“I can’t imagine why,” he said. “Anyways, er…what am I supposed to do? Should I lie down?”

Yasha seemed to think about this for a moment. “Yes,” she said, “that might be best. Here, er…on the floor should work.”

He looked down at the wooden floorboards, and then watched as she casually unsheathed the sword. He quickly got down.

“Do you…always use such a large blade for these things?” he asked.

“No,” Yasha admitted. “Usually a dagger, or a razor, or something.”

“So why did you bring that?”

“It’s the only thing I have. Why, do you have a razor?”

Caleb considered this for a moment, weighing the options between having to actually go out and spend money on a pack of razors, versus putting his faith in Yasha.

He sighed. “Is this…is this going to hurt me? I know you are very strong, but is dexterity—”

“I have done this many times before,” she said. “I like having smooth arms, you know, and Molly likes having—”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Caleb squeezed his eyes shut. Then he opened them again and met her gaze. “I am glad we are friends,” he added quietly.

She cracked a smile at that. “I am glad also.”

“Oh. Oh, good.”

And then he closed his eyes and held his breath and steeled himself and waited.

•

“Oglen, it has been a pleasure doing business with you as always,” Nott grinned as the gnome grudgingly took her hand. “I admire your bartering skills, but know that on this day, you have been bested by Nott the Brave!”

He huffed. “You’re lucky I like you,” he said. “Not many others would be so nice about dealing with goblins. I hope you remember that next time you try and bargain the price up that high.”

“I hope you remember that I know what health code standards look like, and I know that the city isn’t so kind to merchants trading in illegal magical artifacts.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Oglen said. “It has been a pleasure. Come back any time.”

And with that, Nott shoved the bills into her pocket and cheerfully skipped out of the store.

•

Caleb turned back to a rather satisfied-looking Yasha standing in the doorway to his bathroom.

“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

He ran a finger along his jawline and over his chin, smooth for the first time in over a year. There was an occasional stubby patch, but nothing too obvious for those that didn’t know where to look.

“It’s…it’s fantastic, Yasha,” he said quietly. “Really. Thank you.”

She nodded. “You are welcome. Pay me back with Frumpkin?”

He chuckled at that. “Of course, Engel. I need to dress quickly now, but he will be in the kitchen. Stay as long as you please.”

Yasha's multicolored eyes glimmered. “Have fun on your date,” she said. “I will go find the cat.”

And before Caleb could correct her—it’s not a date, seriously—she darted out of the room with surprising speed, and he was alone in the bedroom.

He sighed, gave one last glance at his reflection, and started getting ready.

•

Molly, still out on the sidewalk, finally nodded to himself, slung a long, plastic garment bag over his shoulder, and strode into the café.

•

“Jester, why do you keep checking your phone?” Fjord whispered as the lesson continued. “It’s not polite.”

“It’s not any ruder than doodling,” she hissed back, “which is what I would be doing. Anyways, I’m checking to see if Molly’s sent me any texts. He and Caleb are going on that date today, remember?”

“Oh,” Fjord nodded. “Is that why Molly was so frantic this mornin’ about what to wear?”

“Probably,” Jester shrugged. “You know, you really shouldn’t have to ask me for information about his personal life. He’s your roommate.”

Fjord sighed. “Molly is an enigma to me, Jes. Give me Beau any day, I at least understand her. She’s a straight shooter. Well, not a straight shooter—”

Jester giggled. “Definitely not. Don’t worry, Oskar, I will keep giving you romantic updates. Even when you don’t want them, I will keep doing so.”

He sighed again. “Thank you, I think?”

“You’re welcome. Now hush, I am trying to focus. Go back to learning, or whatever you were doing before.”

•

A tiny bell over the door jingled softly as Caleb stepped inside. The Candleglow Café—its name scrawled proudly outside the large glass windows in curling script—was a small establishment with a warmly-lit interior. The ceiling sported a canopy of hanging plants, tiny yellow and scarlet flowers peeking through broad green leaves in wicker baskets. The hardwood floors gleamed from sunlight filtering in, and the afternoon crowd’s idle chatter created a soft blanket of quiet sound. Two figures stood at the wooden counter to the left, its surface piled high with platters of pastries. A chalkboard behind them listed drink offerings and announced that peppermint lattes were the season’s specialty. The smell of brewing espresso warmed the air.

Glancing around, Caleb could see that the clientele not only included the standard humans, halflings and such, but also a handful of more colorful folks. Their groupings varied; a tiefling sat across from a dwarf and a pair of sun elves shared drinks with two humans, and so on. None of the chairs they sat in matched either—some were painted with flowers, others sported cushions, a few metal, at the back were just sofas thrown in for fun. But instead of feeling haphazard and random, the atmosphere seemed strangely homey, weirdly honest. It was the very definition of snug. It said: we might not be organized, or coherent, or make any sense, but it works. And we serve damn good coffee.

As Caleb made one final sweep of the café, his eyes landed on a splash of purple lounging behind one of the small circular tables to his right, by the windows. It wore a maroon varsity jacket absolutely wrecked with embroidery, and had a pair of curling horns sporting silver and gold jewelry.

It was Mollymauk. Who looked over, saw Caleb, and immediately sat up and waved.

“Over here, dear!”

Caleb restrained himself from nervously combing through his hair, smiled weakly instead, and walked over.

“I hope I am not late,” he said, taking the seat across from Molly. “I was, er…shaving.”

He did not notice over his mounting panic, but Molly took a moment to respond and stumbled slightly as he did.

“You look dear, great—I mean, ah, you look quite nice.” He cleared his throat and turned around, revealing a long plastic bag draped over the back of his chair. He grabbed it and passed it over to Caleb.

“It’s your jacket,” he explained. “That you let me borrow. I had it cleaned for you, I hope that’s alright?”

“What?” Caleb blinked. “Oh, ja, er, that is very nice of you, Mollymauk. Thank you.”

“Yes, well. I figured it was the least I could do. You kept me from getting hypothermia that night, so I’d better make sure your clothes stay clean, right?”

“Ah…yes. Right.”

There was a pause, filled with background chatter and rustling as Caleb settled the bag over his own chair. Then he faced Molly again, and they stared at each other wordlessly for a few moments. Caleb scrambled frantically for something to fill the silence, and unknown to him, Molly did as well.

“So, do you—”

“Any preference for—”

Another pause.

“You first,” they both said at exactly the same time.

A final pause, which Caleb broke by laughing awkwardly.

“You go,” he said. “What were you saying?”

“Well, nothing too dramatic,” Molly grinned, and then tried not to wonder why he said that. He cleared his throat and continued. “I was just going to ask if there was a drink you’d like. I did promise to treat you, right?”

“Oh,” said Caleb. “Oh, yes. Ah…I usually just get black coffee,” and balked when he saw the offended expression on Molly’s face. “Er…is that bad?” he asked.

“My dear sir,” Molly said, pressing a hand over his heart, “that is a crime. Come on, the Candleglow has plenty to offer. Name any flavor combination you’d like, and I’m sure they can make it.”

Caleb seemed to consider this for a moment. “Anything?” he asked.

“Anything your heart desires, dear. Come on, is there anything you’ve always wanted to try before, or a drink you used to love? I bet there is.”

Caleb hesitated. Then he rubbed his chin. “You are going to think this is silly,” he said. “I had it mostly as a joke the first time.”

Molly’s eyes glittered and he leaned across the table. “Oh, dear. Now you’ve got my interest. Lay it on me.”

Caleb nodded. “It was something I had a long time ago, traveling with…with classmates. It was called a Rüdesheimer Kaffee. I think perhaps it is too early for anything alcoholic, but it was a very strong coffee drink, and then they added brandy, and whipped cream, and chocolate. And vanilla, I think, somewhere in there.”

He looked at Molly sheepishly. “A bit too fancy, though, ja?”

“It’s brilliant,” Molly said. “Gods, I want one right now.”

Caleb chuckled. “I do not know if they serve that sort of thing so far south, where we are,” he said. “And I would rather not have brandy before noon.”

“But vanilla and chocolate?” Molly asked, raising an eyebrow. “Now that sounds like much more fun than a black coffee, my dear. Hang on,” he said, and stood up. “I’m going to have a word with Thaddeus. I’ll be right back.”

And before Caleb could say a word, Molly had run off and was in deep discussion with a halfling—Thaddeus—behind the counter. He watched them go back and forth for a few moments, Molly pointing at various jars and nodding excitedly as two cups were brought out and filled and adorned to his satisfaction.

He returned and placed their drinks on the tabletop, pushing one towards Caleb.

Whatever coffee was inside had been absolutely buried under a large swirl of whipped cream, topped with little shavings of chocolate. It smelled like vanilla.

“To friends who help you stay warm,” Molly beamed, and lifted his own cup.

Caleb managed a smile at that. “Ja, alright,” he agreed. “And to warm cafés.”

When the drink hit his lips, Caleb’s eyes went wide, He lowered the cup and blinked. There was a line of white foam on his upper lip. “Scheiss,” he said, “this is much sweeter than what I remember.”

Molly wore an immense grin. “Just the way I like it,” he said, then chuckled. “Are you alright, Mister Caleb? Is it too sugary?”

Caleb shook his head and cleared his throat quietly. “No, no,” he said, “not at all. I am just unused to…to that taste. Give me a moment, do not worry.”

“Is it close to the…the rude drink, you mentioned before?”

Caleb actually snorted at that. “Rüdesheimer Kaffee,” he corrected teasingly. “And it was not too bad. Of course, I appreciate the lack of alcohol—”

“A shame, but you’re welcome.”

“—and the taste it not exactly the same, but it is quite nice. Quite nice indeed. Thank you.”

Molly beamed. “No problem, dear. Now, I assume we should talk about ourselves, yes? Especially since Jester and Fjord aren’t here to interrupt.”

“Ja, I suppose so. What do you propose?”

“I know virtually nothing about you dear.” Molly leaned back in his chair. “And I don’t remember talking that much about myself, so why don’t we do a trade? I’ll ask you a question, and you ask me one in return.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Okay,” he agreed. “That sounds like a good start. Er…go ahead?”

Molly laughed. “Hmm…how about…do you like your job? I seem to recall Jester saying you work at the library.”

“That would be correct,” Caleb sighed. “It is nice, all in all. Easy work, very quiet, and usually I am left to my own reading. The only problem, I would say, is that they do not give me more hours.”

“Well, that must be their loss, dear. You seem like the library type, you know.”

“Do I?”

“All you need are glasses, and you’d be perfect. It’s a, ah, a good look on you.”

“Oh. Er…thank you.” Caleb fidgeted with the handle of his mug for a few moments before speaking. “So, do you like your job? Being such a fancy singer at the Moondrop, and all?”

Molly grinned. “I’m definitely lucky to work somewhere so fun,” he conceded. “Though, and I think I’ve mentioned this before, I could stand to get into a little less trouble with the clientele.”

“Actually,” Caleb said, “I have been wondering about that. How is it that you are not swarmed on the streets? How is it that presses do not harass you, and all that? If you are so famed as Jester and Fjord said.” Then he balked and added, “That came out a bit, er…confrontational. Sorry.”

Molly waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, Mister Caleb, I got it. I think it’s mostly that…when I’m up on stage, I’m somebody else. I feel…like I was born to be the center of attention, in a weird way. And when I’m on the arm of some celebrity, or when I have a famous person on mine, I then for the rest of the world, I’m flashy and interesting. But when I’m alone…or in a quiet café out of the way like this…I don’t think I’m quite so interesting anymore. And not as recognizable. With someone famous, I’m exotic. I’m glamorous. Alone, I’m a random tiefling wandering through the streets of a very big city. Does that make sense?”

Caleb nodded slowly, and took another sip. “I think…I think that does.”

“Plus, I just have one of those faces that’s easy to mistake, you know?”

He scoffed. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely, dear. Now, my turn to ask. Hmm…can you tell me about how you and Nott met? She made…quite the impression on me during movie night a few days ago.”

Caleb smiled, and here there was no trace of strain or anxiety. “Ja, that is Nott in a nutshell, isn’t it? And, well, we actually met in…not the most elegant of locations.”

“Please, do go on.”

Caleb carefully met Molly’s gaze. “Tell me, Mollymauk, how…acquainted are you with things that are not always the most…legally up to standard?”

Those red eyes glittered. “I work at a bar, dear. Downstairs we run a club so popular we had to install more soundproofing than you can imagine. The mother of one of my dearest friends,” he continued quietly, “is a high-profile courtesan. And let’s just say tipping isn’t the only way to get coin from the pockets of patrons that wouldn’t miss it. What was your question, again?”

Caleb nodded, satisfied. “We met in a prison in a smaller township to the north. Both of us for stealing.”

Molly gave him a wicked grin. “And how did you get out?”

Caleb leaned back into his chair and examined his fingernails. For just a second, for a moment so short that Molly barely caught it, a lighter-sized flame burst from Caleb’s thumb and went out.

It sent shivers down Molly’s spine. He wasn’t exactly sure what kind.

“Of course, nobody got hurt,” Caleb added. “I…would not have done well if somebody had.”

Molly laughed. “Glad to see there’s a bleeding heart under the mysterious magical criminal, then. Now, ask me a question.”

Caleb tapped his chin, and then brightened up. “Jester mentioned you had your own magic to me once, I think? Is that true?”

Molly hesitated, and Caleb almost apologized. But then the tiefling smiled faintly and nodded. “I do, yes,” he said. “It’s probably not the same as yours, though. Actually, I think I can almost guarantee that it isn’t.”

“Is it innate, then?” he asked. “Like some of Jester’s abilities?”

Molly shrugged. “Maybe?” he said. “I don’t know, I’ve been able to do it as long as I can remember,” he added lightly. “Now, what is your favorite book?”

Caleb blinked, the sudden shift in conversation catching him off-guard. “My favorite book?” he asked. “Er, why?”

“It’s my turn to ask a question, right? Sorry, did you want to stop, or—”

“Oh no, no,” Caleb said hastily. “No, it is alright. Er…favorite book, favorite book…there was a novel I read once before called Before the River’s Dawn, about the creation myth of Wildemount. It is quite good, if you ever feel in the mood for history. And then there is The Mountain Range of Gold, that one was also excellent, and is a three-part fictional series. Actually, the second book is widely regarded as the best in the trilogy but the author believes the last was her most praiseworthy work, even though I really believe the first volume…”

And as Caleb continued rambling, Molly couldn’t help but feel relieved that the other man so easily dropped the subject of magic. It had been a pleasure, really, to watch Caleb’s usually-stoic mask crumble under the weight of sugary coffee and now light up animatedly at the opportunity to discuss his favorite novels. And most importantly, Molly was relieved that no sensitive topics would need airing out on a first date like this.

•

Nott cracked open the kitchen window of the apartment and crawled through, as she always did. It wasn’t until she had made her way across the counter and hopped cheerfully onto the white-tiled floor did she see a large figure crawling on the ground in front of her.

She screamed, which was understandable, and Yasha looked up in panic.

“What the fu—oh my gods.” Nott sighed, and rubbed her eyes. “Why are you in our house?”

Yasha stood up, dusting her sweatpants off as she did. “Caleb invited me over,” she said. “I helped him get ready for his date, and he said I could play with Frumpkin while he was gone.”

Nott only needed a second to go from terror to complacency. “Okay,” she sighed again. “Sure. Just…just warn a girl next time, alright? I thought there was a wolf in the living room.”

Yasha nodded immediately. “Sorry,” she said. “I can see why that would be startling.”

“Yeah, you think? And anyway, why were you on the floor?”

Yasha pointed at the couch. “Frumpkin ran underneath,” she said. “I was trying to get him out.”

Nott considered this for a moment. Then she unhooked her pouch from her belt, rolled up her sleeves, and marched towards the living room. “Hang on,” she said. “I’ll get ‘im for you.”

•

“Is Beau coming this time?” Jester asked as she and Fjord exited the Sutan Learning Hall and walked onto the street. “She mentioned that she might this morning, did she say anything to you while you were at the gym?”

Fjord nodded. “She said she’d meet us at the address. You know, I never expected her to be the type to enjoy apartment-hunting so much. Especially when she isn’t even the one hunting.”

Jester grinned. “She likes shaking up landlords. I think it comes from being a rich guy’s daughter. It’s probably therapeutic, or something.”

“Well," he chuckled, "I’m not one to get in the way of someone working out their personal problems. Shall we head over now?”

Jester giggled and held out her elbow. “I think we shall, sir Fjord. I’m actually super-excited to see this one. It’s pet-friendly and everything.”

•

By now, the morning mob had melted away into a rather bustling lunch crowd, that soon faded into the last stragglers of the late-afternoon. Molly, among other things, had learned about Caleb’s asshole of an apartment super, about Frumpkin the definitely-a-real-cat, and more about the underground smutty novel trade than he ever could have expected. Caleb, in turn, had learned about a number of the tiefling’s more riveting romantic entanglements, about Yasha and his friendship, and about life as a serial performer.

And as the empty cups of makeshift Rüdesheimer Kaffee slowly grew stone-cold, Molly began to see glimmers of somebody else swimming under the surface of the scruffy wizard in front of him. Somebody who, though perhaps he himself didn’t remember, not only knew what it was like to be the center of attention, but also had thrived there. And Caleb, plastic laundry bag pressed against his back, eventually began to notice a kindness and desperation for nothing but friendship, real friendship, lurking within in the man across the table, whose entire life was seemingly an act.

And just as Molly was wrapping up the story of how Ornna and Gustav nearly launched the Moondrop into a civil war over a simple spat—never underestimate that woman, Mister Caleb, she can be very persuasive when she wants to be—Molly’s phone started buzzing from its place on the tabletop.

They both glanced down. The screen read:

2:30PM

YOU HAVE REHEARSAL AT 3. DO NOT FORGET OR YASHA WILL KILL YOU

Molly sighed and silenced the alarm.

“Sorry, dear,” he said with an apologetic expression. “I should probably head out now. It…it truly has been lovely though. We should definitely do this again.”

Caleb smiled back. “I agree. I had a nice time also. You are…fun, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

Molly grinned. “Really? Well, that is quite a high compliment coming from you. Oh!” he added, and hit himself in the forehead dramatically. “Before I forget, are you doing anything this Saturday?”

“This Saturday?” Caleb echoed. “Oh, uh…I do not believe I am. Why?”

“Well, the Moondrop is having a big celebration for its 25th anniversary. I was wondering if, ah, perhaps you’d like to come?” he fished around in his pocket and produced a small white card, trimmed with gold. “Here’s an invitation,” he said, and passed it across the table to Caleb. “We’ll all be there, Beau and Fjord and Yasha and I, plus Jester is coming too. You’re welcome to bring Nott along also. If you’re…interested?”

Caleb blinked a few times, and studied the card in his hands. “Ah,” he said. “Is it…a party, then?”

Molly quickly shook his head. “Not at all, dear. It’s a show. From all the singers and dancers, including yours truly. Limited social interaction, and I’m sure Jester would love to cover for you if anyone actually tried to mingle. She was going to ask you to go originally but, well, I wanted to. I thought it might be a good step in our friendship if I did. It would…mean a lot to me, if you would come and see me perform?”

Caleb nodded slowly to himself. Then he glanced back up at Molly and gave him a tentative grin. “That sounds…like a very good step indeed. I will…think it over, if that is alright?”

“Excellent!” Molly said, and gave Caleb a clap on the shoulder. “Perfect. I’ll send Nott the details if you decide to come? It starts at seven in the evening, so there’s plenty of time to get ready and all.” Molly stood up. “Er…see you later, then?”

Caleb nodded again, this time much faster. His smile grew only the smallest bit, but it was enough to make Molly’s heart soar with relief.

“See you later, Mister Mollymauk.”

“Wonderful, Mister Caleb. Tell Nott I said hello.”

And with that, the tiefling gave Caleb one more pat on the arm, and headed out the door.

•

Today 2:42 PM

Molly Tealeaf: Jester your idea worked theyre probably in Jester Lavore: of course it did! and I assume the date was good too? Molly Tealeaf: it was wonderful dear Molly Tealeaf: now you just gotta help them get ready and navigate fancy people during the event Molly Tealeaf: does that sound alright? Jester Lavore: molly are you kidding Jester Lavore: i would want nothing more than to do that Jester Lavore: oh my gods im going to put nott in a dress Jester Lavore: thank you for this gift Molly Tealeaf: go easy on them please I only just met em Jester Lavore: ive known them months Jester Lavore: im unleashing hell Jester Lavore: okay bye gotta go fjord says this apartment might be perfect and beau is gonna start haggling now k bye Molly Tealeaf: have fun dear make sure she doesn’t kill anybody

•

Hard as he tried, Caleb’s heart refused to calm down as he rounded the hallway and made his way up the stairs to his apartment. He felt light-headed, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He felt anxious, as if he were expecting the clear skies overhead to suddenly turn grey, or as if he were about to get back scores from an exam he hadn’t aced after all.

And more than anything, he felt guilty.

He had enjoyed himself, at the Candleglow, with this strange man that had suddenly catapulted his way into Caleb’s life. This technicolor whirlwind that would go from high-energy to soft and thoughtful at a moment’s notice. This odd newcomer that made Caleb laugh, that bought him a drink that reminded him of home, that had managed to carefully coax him into opening up about his life where most could never get a word out. After all, Jester had been trying for months.

But Caleb shouldn’t have had fun. He wasn’t supposed to. He didn’t deserve that kind of happiness, and he had left it all behind.

Worst of all, up until now, the feelings now bubbling dangerously in his chest had unswervingly belonged to somebody else. And after it had become clear that they would never be needed ever again, Caleb had locked them up in a box and pushed them down, deep down, so far down that he thought they would never see sunlight again.

Until, apparently, now.

He sighed as he unlocked the front door. Then he yelped in surprise and backed up. Three pairs of eyes instantly trained on him from down on the living room floor.

Frumpkin—in Yasha’s hands, being scratched by Nott—meowed.

“Hey, Caleb!” Nott said cheerily. “Did the date go well?”

“Did Molly like your shave?” Yasha chimed in immediately. “Was it alright?”

He blinked a few times. Then he rubbed his face and sighed. “Have you been in my house since I left?” he asked.

Yasha glanced at Nott, who shrugged, and then back to Caleb.

“Yes?”

He nodded and took his coat off. “Don’t you have rehearsal, or something now?”

Yasha’s face suddenly looked stricken. “Shoot,” she said, and stood up. “I forgot.”

She handed a mildly disgruntled-looking cat to Nott, and quickly started to gather her things. She draped her large shawl around her shoulders, strapped the sword to her back, and gave Caleb a clap on the arm. “See you later. Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Er…no problem?”

And then she squeezed past, and bolted out the door.

“So anyways,” Nott said after Caleb had taken his shoes off and joined her on the floor. “Did the date go well?”

He nodded, and pulled Frumpkin into his lap. “I think it so,” he said, “though again, it was not a date. Mollymauk asked me to meet up once more, later this week.”

“Really?” Nott’s face lit up. “That’s great! Where?”

Caleb gave her a small smile. “At the Moondrop,” he said. “And you’re invited as well. How do you feel like being part of high society for a night?”

Nott raised an eyebrow. “Is that safe?” she asked.

Caleb considered the strange feeling of guilt weighing in his stomach. The dread he felt at having to interact with the upper crust. The terror of the past catching up to him.

And then he thought about the way Molly’s eyes had softened when he asked if Caleb would come see him perform. He thought about the distant glimmer of city lights at night as they stood up on the balcony together in the light snow. He thought about the way his mouth still tasted, ever-so-slightly, like vanilla and cream and chocolate shavings.

“It’s safe,” he said slowly. “And you know, I think the two of us need to just live once in a while. Ja?”

Nott’s eyes glittered. “Ja,” she echoed, and then grinned. “Yeah, absolutely.”

•

☕ ☕ 💚

#critical role #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #text #cr2 #widomauk #jay writes #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #fjord #jester #yasha #nott #beauregard #long post #longfic #something new for me and you

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inaweofdiana · 7 years

Note

"I don't take orders. I barely take suggestions." And Sabo??? ;u; ♡♡

Another one for the gang au?? I’m getting really into it!! I hope you enjoy it and that you actually like the gang au oops lol

other parts in the gang au are here (the SabAce one) and here (the MarcAce) one sooo this one features Sabo n Marco bc I’m shameless for MarcoAceSabo ngl

This was fun to write, I really love Sabo. I’m finally getting a solid grasp of his character too!! He’s also a potty mouth when he gets mad, apparently

Sabo sipped at his water, eyes scanning the flow of people on the sidewalk. He was seated against the building, under a broad umbrella. He had a nice chilly water and was waiting on a plate of pancakes. Brunch meetings really were the best, he reflected. Especially when it looked like your contact was on time.Sabo smiled up at the blond man approaching him. “Nice weather we’re having, huh?” He greeted.The man nodded to him in greeting. “It could be better.” He completed the greeting phrase. Because really, the weather didn’t get better than this. Nice and cool, with the sun kissing you of a promise of warm, but not too warm. “You’re the Phoenix?” Sabo assumed.The man nodded as he sat. “But you’re not the Queen.” He didn’t look too annoyed at the change as he appraised him.Sabo shook his head. “They call me the Piper. The Queen was called away on unexpected business. The Dragon thought I would be an acceptable substitute.” Sabo offered him a menu as he spoke.The man narrowed his eyes but took the menu, examining it.Sabo took the chance to admire him from behind his sunglasses, glad they were reflective. Blond hair, undercut, messy up top. Deep set eyes with deeper eye bags. A square jaw with a smattering of scruff. Shoulders that were broad, but not beefy, topping off a tall, slender frame. He was wearing a purple blazer, the cuffs rolled to his elbows. A plain white v-neck that dipped deliciously low, showing the top of a tattoo. He had ridiculously long eyelashes, and they fluttered gently with each slow blink.He had a lazy air about him, slouching in his chair with his tired eyes and sleepy blinks, but Sabo could see the steel underneath it. His eyes were firm, every movement confident. From the one sentence he’d uttered, Sabo knew he was authoritative and sure. And from the lack of phone call about the unpredicted change of plans, he was right to be authoritative and sure. He’d heard whispers that the Phoenix was very high up with the Whitebeards, but he didn’t know how high.Sabo wasn’t surprised when he ordered coffee from the peppy waitress. He noted with interest that their pancake orders were nearly identical. He pulled out that days paper and offered half to the Phoenix, keeping the important half. The important half being, of course, the half with the crossword.The Phoenix accepted it. “Business after we eat, I assume?”Sabo nodded, slipping his sunglasses off. The guy looked amused. “Something you Revs all have in common, then?” His eyes were raking up and down Sabo’s form in a sharp gaze.Sabo shot him a wink. “Call it conditioning.” He started on his crossword, pulling a pen from his pocket. Their food arrived and they ate quietly, the Phoenix reading the business section and Sabo working away on his crossword.Or he would be, if his damn pen hadn’t stopped working. He scribbled circles first in the margin of the page, and then on his palm, fuming quietly when it refused to work. He patted himself down for another pen only to come up short.“Here.” The Phoenix held his hand out.Sabo raised an eyebrow.The Phoenix raised one back. “What? You’re better company than the Queen.”Sabo threw back his head and laughed at the look on the Phoenix’s face at the thought of Iva. Like a cat that’d chewed on a lemon. “She can have that effect on people.” He tried to muffle his laughter in his palm, but was doing a poor job.“Take it.” The Phoenix looked exasperated but amused, still holding his hand out.Sabo leaned forward and grabbed the proffered pen, dragging the Phoenix’s hand along with it, pulling it gently to his lips to brush the barest of kisses to his fingertips. “Thanks.” He smiled sweetly at the Phoenix, giving it everything he had. He released his hand, keeping the pen. He swept his gaze over the other man’s face, taking in his surprised eyebrows and pink cheeks. He’d been reading him correctly then.He then dropped his gaze back to his crossword, abruptly. “Seventeen across would be… gobsmacked. Yes, that’s where I was.”After a moment, the Phoenix sat back in his chair with his coffee, slurping loudly.Sabo smirked.“So–” The Phoenix was cut off by a deafening explosion.They both bolted to their feet, and Sabo watched a plume of smoke rise from an uncovered manhole. He glanced up and dashed to the side, deflecting the manhole cover from several civilians with a haki-hardened forearm. A second later, the ground started to shake with the after-effects of the explosion.Sabo wobbled, but remained on his feet with the help of the Phoenix’s arm on his shoulder.“You need to get out of here. Get the civilians to safety.” He ordered.“Excuse me?” Sabo nearly gaped.The Phoenix looked at him, slightly apologetic. “You don’t have any fruit powers. It’s not safe for you down there.”Sabo scowled. “I got where I am without a fruit, thanks. And anyway, this is Rev turf.”“Disputed.” The Phoenix corrected, eyes narrowed as much as Sabo’s were.The strangeness of the situation would hit Sabo later, that they were calmly standing next to a smoking manhole cover in the middle of a screaming crowd of people, even as small tremors shook the ground.“It’s not safe.” The Phoenix repeated. “I have an idea of who we’re up against and I’ve fought him before, so you need to stay up here and let me handle things!” He looked annoyed.Sabo rolled his eyes. “How about you shut the fuck up instead?” He snapped. He peeled his nice sweater off, leaving him in a sleeveless top. He yanked his snapback from his pocket and combed his bangs back from his forehead before popping it on backwards. “I’m the fucking Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army. I don’t take orders. I barely take suggestions.” He shoved his sweater at the Phoenix, imbuing it with enough haki that he stumbled back and sat his ass down hard in a chair. “I’m the one who gives the orders.” He threw over his shoulder as he stalked towards the manhole. He had some ass to kick.

#marcosabo #sabomarco #one piece #lauras gang au #authenticaussie #smooches ur head #ty for always sending prompts youre a doll <3 #but fr i hope you do actually like the gang au?? i didn't even think of that while i was writing eek #mine

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pod-kozom · 5 years

Text

I was thinking about going on meds again but I don't really want that 'cause while I strongly believe it's the best way to be able to cope when you really can't exist and as a support function, I just don't see it helping me getting to the root of my mental problems.

I keep falling into spirals whenever something small happens and then I can't get out of them and I just create new layers of isolation and lost trust and bottled up feelings and they keep influencing my day and mood and relationships and I don't see it in those moments I am not mindful enough to reveal the actual problem behind those 'tantrums' (they of course aren't tantrums but it's the most fitting word I guess) or just episodes of endless sadness, depression and hopelessness. only after some hours when I've had distraction or some happy moments can I see behind those behavioural patterns I built and I want to face that now.

I love the people around me, they are amazing and they're there for me and I don't want them to ever think I don't love them 'cause I'm acting so weird and sad all the time. like whenever I'm with anan I just ruin everything 'cause I'm sad and I'm comfortable being sad around him 'cause he gets me and he knows how to help me but the point is he shouldn't have to do that every single time we're together. we don't see eachother often anyways so it's getting me more frustrated every time I'm 'using up' our time by being sad. and I know he doesn't mind and I ain't a burden and he understands but it's that I want him to know that I love him and that he makes me happy and it's the exact same thing with my friends.

I want to be able to express my gratitude and love I have for them by being the person I am, by being happy and supportive and funny and excited and not use up the little time I have with them by being closed off. and again, I know they understand but I don't wanna be that way anymore. I don't want the people around me to constantly have to act a certain way around me. I wanna feel good 'cause they do make me feel good and I just always fuck that up 'cause I can't talk about shit when it happens, I just shut up and then let it ruin my day or just talk about it in a self protecting way which is still isolating at the end of the day. and that's that spiral I fall into.

and I need to be with myself more, listen to my inner feelings and thoughts and be brave and talk about my fears and anxieties and not think that everyone will hate me if I ever open up my mouth.

I need to find my strong self again, and let it be here, not letting it constantly be overshadowed by my paranoid, protective me.

I know I am strong and amazing and loveable and loving and I am gonna work my ass off to get these characteristics to shine more through again. I want to release these shackles I have put onto my self and I want to see clearly through them. I am going to put an end to my trauma driven coping mechanisms that have created this string of neverending behavioural patterns that just make me fall more and more into isolation every day.

I know I can do it because I want to. and because I love the people around me and I wanna show them. I wanna be happy with them again. I wanna be happy when I'm with my mom, I wanna be happy when I'm with kat, when I see marko and viki and julie and kiro, when I meet up with anita, and I wanna be happy so I can meet up more with iva and of course I wanna be happy when I'm with anan. because I love those people. and while I'm not doing this for them, while I'm not putting myself at second place for them, I am seeing them as my biggest motivator to get back to that place of self love and expression and enjoyment of my person. 'cause I know that they deserve me that way and that's why I know that I deserve myself that way too.

and I love anan 'cause he brings out those things in me. he unknowingly helps me stand on this plattform different from my usual life and gets me this whole new view on it. it's more of a universe from which I'm able to see my life more clearly. and I love that when I'm laying on top of him and putting my legs and arms around him and my head into his neck, being all vulnerable and so not within my comfort zone of coping mechanisms, he holds me too that I am not afraid, not a single bit.

I am gonna be the best version of myself there is.

for myself. and every single fucking amazing awesome perfect person I have in my life.

I am connecting with myself again.

#and I'm not afraid anymore.#my cards said that the harder way is always the way to more growth #and it's gonna be hard but I am changing my ways #I am changing for the better #I am changing for alignment #for truth #for love

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iridulcentdays · 7 years

Text

[RusAme] Veritas

Guess who asked for this? No one. Guess who gets it–you guys. A short drabble because I am avoiding packing right now.

RusAme- Rated: T- Spy AU

Alfred’s wrists were screaming against the metal cuffs by the time his captives decided to move on in the interrogation.

“Alright,” said the woman sitting by the end of the metal gurney Alfred was strapped to. She looked bored, and minus a few stay blonde hairs and the slightest smudge of her cherry red lipstick, it would have been hard to recognize she was getting impatient. “I thought Americans never shut up.” She pressed at a bruise on the lower end of his shin and Alfred glared at her. “Maybe we should have taken the Russian.”

“I hate to break it to you,” her partner said, a wall of a man who looked like he owned a cross fit gym or two. He ran his hand through black hair before he drummed his fingers next to Alfred’s head. It was giving him a migraine, the way the vibrations carried up his spine and rand in his ears. “But if this kid isn’t talking, there’s no fucking way ice king would.”

“Original,” Alfred muttered under his breath. Either his captors didn’t hear him or didn’t care that he was still snarking. He tongued at one of his front teeth, which felt loose to him. The dried blood below his nose was itchy and driving him crazy.

“Why don’t we try something different before you break his jaw,” she offered, and walked out of Alfred’s sight. Alfred flexed his arms again to see if he could get out of the cuffs holding him down. He couldn’t.

“Why not,” the man offered. Alfred thought his name was David for some reason. He wasn’t really sure. After the second punch to the head his thoughts had grown a bit fuzzy. Man, Ivan was going to kill him for getting caught again, he thought. Although this time it wasn’t even his fault. Could he really be blamed for getting caught when getting away meant a bullet in the head of a kid? “You want to give it to him?”

Alfred’s body stiffened when he felt the sharp piercing of a needle into his thigh.

He tried to pull himself away, and felt her dig her fingers into the upper part of his thigh through his pants, nails digging in as she calmly administered the drug. Alfred swore, and received a slap for it. He blinked, focusing on a patch of water stains in the ceiling as his vision wavered.

“I thought I said no foul language,” she chastised and pulled her fingers back to check her nails with a frown. “You made me chip my thumb.”

“Sorry,” Alfred huffed. “A real inconvenience.” He knew he was going to get it again, but he couldn’t help rolling his eyes. He clenched his teeth as she gripped his sprained ankle and squeezed. His heartbeat pulsed behind his eyes.

“Calm down,” David said, sitting on the edge of the table. He had an apple and carved it apart with a thin red penknife. As he popped a slice into his mouth he asked, “How’s it going kid?”

“Fine,” Alfred snapped. “Better if you loosened these handcuffs a bit.”

David raised a brow a shrugged. “Sorry. Can’t do that.” David leaned in as though about to share a secret. “You’d wiggle out too easily,”

“At least it’d be a fair fight,” Alfred said. He turned his eyes back to the water patch. It kind of looked like a rabbit. “Actually, I forgot, it wouldn’t. Obviously you’re such a fucking coward or you wouldn’t hold a six year old hostage.”

“But see I must have done something right,” David said, tapping Alfred’s exposed stomach with the cold blade of the knife. His shirt had rucked up in his struggles. “I’m not strapped to the table, am I?” He smirked and took another slice of the apple, crunching on it obnoxiously. “Now I’m going to come back in about 10 minutes, and I want you to think real hard about your partner, because we’re real curious about him.”

Alfred said nothing and David shrugged. He hopped off and left Alfred alone. Alfred stared at the rabbit looking stain, blinked when it looked like it moved. Fuck. This wasn’t good.

He chattered when he was nervous. About stupid inconsequential stuff that usually got at Ivan’s nerves halfway through a mission. But being strapped to a table and pumped full of drugs for questioning? Well he wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Oddly, he’d never been stuck quite like this before.

So Alfred tried stuffing down everything he knew about Ivan. How he had two ‘sisters’ who had taught him how to cook and how to kill a man with a single hit to the back of the head. How he loved sunflowers, but never bought them for himself. He pushed down the memories of what Ivan looked like: staring down the burning barrel of a gun, waking up in a cool purple morning with the constellations trapped in his eyes, reading a map in the middle of a snowy forest with snowflakes sticking to his eyelashes. The rabbit started to turn its head towards him.

Why did they want to know about him anyway? Does it matter why? The rabbit asked.

What the fuck was in that syringe?

“Oh, just a pinch here a dash of that,” Came David’s voice from left of his head. Alfred, startled by the sudden teleportation, jumped as well as he could being tied down to the table. His wrist welled blood from cutting into the cuffs. “Lucky you don’t seem to be allergic to anything.”

“Real lucky,” Alfred agreed dryly. Damn. He hoped Ivan would get here soon.

“We do too,” the woman said. Alfred raised his head a bit, could see her standing next to a metal tray. Metal trays were never good. Alfred bit down on his tongue to make sure he wasn’t talking without realizing it.

“What’s your partner’s full name?” she asked, tapping her fingers along his bare forearm.

Alfred kept quiet, but the answers ran though his brain. Held up on the answer, repeating: IVAN BRAGINSKY. IVAN BRAGINSKY. IVA–

“Give him a minute or two more, Lexi,” David said. Oh. That was her name. “It’s only been 10 minutes. We might need to give him more.” Oh, well, Alfred hoped not. His heart was racing as it was. He felt flushed, like he had a fever, and the rabbit was twitching in the ceiling above.

But then again, he sure did feel good right now. His wrists didn’t hurt. His jaw didn’t hurt. But everything was getting too bright and his eyes and head hurt. Christ where was that son of a bitch? Was he still in Poland–

“Poland?” Lexi asked.

“Fuck,” Alfred said. “Shit, no. Where am I again?”

“Greece,” she supplied.

Okay, so, no. Braginsky was just taking his fucking sweet time. He definitely hadn’t left him in Poland. “Do you think that looks like a rabbit?” Alfred asked, still looking at the water stain. The rabbit was cleaning it’s paws right now which would look adorable if it were real.

“Sure,” David said.

“Huh.” Alfred said. He was as high as a kite, wasn’t he?

“Yes,” David said, and Alfred could feel his hand press along the outside of his thigh were a pulsing bruise had mellowed out to a murmur. “Now, what is your partner’s name?”

 “Ivan?” Alfred asked. He frowned when he saw the rabbit turn to him. It frowned. How the fuck did a rabbit look grumpy?

“Ivan what?” Lexi pressed.

“I dunno,” Alfred said. Because he had doubts. Sure, he and Ivan were pretty close, but Alfred wondered if Braginsky was really his last name. It didn’t seem very Russian. Wouldn’t it be spelled B-R-A-G-I-N-S-K-I? Or was that Polish? And shouldn’t he have a middle name or something? Like Ivanovich?

“Sandwich,” Alfred snorted. That rhymed. Ivan Sandwich Braginski. No wonder he never said his real name.

“You gave him too much,” Lexi accused. Alfred felt David’s fingers press hard into the wound and he let out a strangled whimper. Immediately it dulled when David pulled his hand away and Alfred sighed.

David walked further into Alfred’s line of sight. “Why don’t you tell us something about Ivan?”

“He can hit a target at 200 yards with a pistol.” Alfred said. That had been thrilling to watch at the practice range. “And he really likes pirozhki, but they’re literally stuffed bread? Like I just don’t get it. It’s like a hamburger calzone.” The place smells like wet cement. His hair is plastered to his head from a wound and it itches.

“How long have you worked with him?”

Alfred chewed on his lip in thought. “A year now, I think. He thinks I’m too young. I wonder if that’s why he doesn’t like me.” The rabbit was running around in circles. It started to give him a headache.

“You don’t get along?”

“No we do, but,” Alfred sighed. He could feel phantom fingers running through his hair. His mother used to do that. But he could now smell cedar. Ivan always smelled like cedar or juniper somehow. “I mean, I just don’t know why he doesn’t.” Alfred’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“Where do you work?”

“Everywhere,” Alfred said. He and Ivan had been set all over Europe at this point. Notably there was the mission in Buenos Aires that had somehow wedged something between them. Alfred had thought they were getting along perfectly, and then he had taken a shot to the back and blacked out, and after that when he woke up in the hospital, Ivan wouldn’t talk to him. Still hadn’t talked to him. Not really. “Ivan really wants to go back to Russia though, so I always try and see if we can work there. I’d like to meet his ‘sisters’.”

“How many sisters does he have?”

“Two,” Alfred raised his head and colors swan dived around the room. His head fell back down with a heavy thump. The rabbit began to clean its paws, disinterested in the events below.

“Does he have any other family?”

“He doesn’t have a family. They’re all dead.” Not that they’d ever talked about that. It had been in his personnel file that Alfred had stolen to read when he first learned they’d been assigned to each other. Not that he could complain. He’d never said anything about his family either.

“I thought you just said he had two sisters?” Lexi walked closer to the table and something wobbled through his brain, a diminished whisper of warning. That he should keep his mouth shut. His heart was beating against his chest. Painful. Eyes hurt from the light.

“They died,” Alfred repeated. Held onto the truth by a quickly unraveling thread.

“Give him more,” Lexi snapped.

 “His heart rate is already too high.” David walked around to the metal tray Lexi was standing at. He picked up another syringe. Alfred’s breath hitched.

“Ah, I can see you don’t want another injection,” Lexi said softly. Her icy fingers trailed across Alfred’s cheek gently. Revulsion rolled though his gut. Lexi grabbed his chin hard. “So start talking.”

Alfred bit down on his tongue and tasted copper. He flexed his hand against the cuff and the dried blood cracked and itched. Alfred blinked as he watched the rabbit bound around the ceiling dizzyingly, looking as through it was being chased by a furious fox. He tensed as he felt the needle back in his leg.

“Lexi,” David snapped.

“It’s a half dose,” Lexi said. Alfred listened to something clatter against the metal tray. He shut his eyes. “It shouldn’t kill him.”

Alfred felt warm. Far too warm. The silence of the room drummed in his ears with each heartbeat and his breathing quickened as the drug took effect. He panted shallowly, looked up to the ceiling. Colors ebbed and swirled around, too vivid. He swallowed, mouth too dry. Fingers twitched. Tapped out useless messages against the board he was held to.

“Now,” David said after what felt like only a second. But he had been standing at the other side of the room before. Now he was suddenly here. Alfred stared at him in confusion. “Tell us about your partner.”

“Ivan is going to kill you,” Alfred said with certainty. Maybe after killing Alfred for getting caught. His partner really didn’t like people who hurt Alfred. And Alfred destroyed people who hurt Ivan. Insurance, Ivan had told him when Alfred had been musing to himself if it was love. “You won’t even know what hit you. He’s so fast and strong, and christ, does he have amazing forearms like,” Alfred exhaled slowly. He felt fuzzy. Sort of good. But bad. Like he had guzzled too many drinks and his stomach was sea sick but the rest of him felt cloudy and warm and great. “Damn. He could probably rip a tree apart.” The rabbit was gone but he could hear a voice talking to him in his ear. Stay clam. I’m almost there.

“He knows six languages, and can get by in two more. He can open safes faster than me, but he doesn’t like using explosives. He likes tea, but no sugar. He hates super sugary things.” Alfred swallowed again. His mouth was too dry. The room still smelled like mold and rust. He smelled like gun oil and wood smoke and something like cedar and something not. The first time Alfred had met him at his house the air had been thick with bacon and onions and mushrooms and his breath had smelled briny.

“And his eyes,” Alfred continued. “Amazing.” He thought of the sea at sunset, of the amber city lights brushing blue storm clouds. Violet eyes, the color of the shadows to the wall that never revealed his thoughts. Are you okay? Alfred shut his eyes, felt dumb pain roll down his shin as Lexi pressed down, angry with his answers. He moaned. There was a growl like thunder.

“What the hell? This is all nonsense,” David said.

“Do you love him?” Lexi asked.

Alfred laughed and his lip split painfully. “Yeah.”

Silence reined. “We could use him as bait for the other, he might be more useful. He might talk at threat of torture of this lovesick idiot”

Anger welled up in Alfred’s gut, so tight and horrid it made it hard to speak. “If you touch him I’ll rip your throat out. I’ll kill you.”

“Not much you can do tied to a table,” David said and turned back to Lexi.

“I’ll kill you,” Alfred repeated. The world wobbled around him, a tilted carousel of lights and sounds and colors. I’m almost there. Just hold on. His lungs hurt. His whole body twitched, muscles seizing painfully.

“He’ll be more useful,” Lexi said.

“He won’t come,” Alfred slurred. His throat ached. Everything ached. Another growl. “I love him, but he hates me. You don’t come back for people you hate.” What are you talking about.

I don’t hate you. Have I ever left you behind. “He won’t come. He’ll finish the mission without me.”

“What was your mission?” Lexi asked, eyes sparkling at the new possible information.

“Infiltrate your organization and then remove all of your sources of financing so your business would topple and your backers would finish you off. But then you got into human trafficking and we had to make sure there was no way your were coming back from any of this.” Alfred looked at Lexi and smiled “Unfortunately Marcus wasn’t fully on our side. He helped us get in, but he tipped you off, which is how you found out about us.” Alfred turned his head and looked to the darker side of the room. Or was it that one of his eyes was loosing it’s vision? There was a gray film over everything. “Ivan was smarter. Did his own thing,” Alfred mumbled under his breath.

“When I found out what Marcus did, you found me on my way out. I woulda made it too, but you’re a real piece of shit that uses kids as shields.” Lexi grabbed his knee, fingernails digging viciously under his kneecap. Nerve pain flared hot and bright until it fell away, pulled out to sea by the drugs.

“You’ll pay for that,” Lexi snarled.

Stop making them mad. “I’m sure,” Alfred said. He hiccuped a laugh. “But truth is, you’re not gonna get him to say anything, even if he was coming back for me.”

“We should cut our losses and go,” David said. He tossed a knife to Lexi.

“What so now you want to kill him?”

“That knife looks sharp,” Alfred commented to no one. What knife.

“We should go to ground. We know enough.”

“We don’t know anything!” Lexi snapped. “He’s said useless shit this whole time!”

“Lexi, just slit his throat and let’s go.”

“Slitting the throat’s pretty messy,” Alfred said. It usually hit an artery and that shit went everywhere. Arterial spray did not fuck around. Do not tell them how to kill you. “Just like, a good hit to the liver will get the job done pretty quick.” Stop talking. “Brachial Vein’s a good one too. But the artery’s next to it, so ya gotta make it precise.”

I’m outside. Don’t move. Do not let them kill you.

“Two shots to the head’s the best way, really. One, they might live,” Alfred shut his eyes. “But two?” he scoffed, “Ain’t coming back from that.”

There was a crash and two cracks of a gun. Deafening. Alfred winced and listened to a dull thud. The metal tray crashed to the floor. Foot steps stalked closer. Two more shots, spaced out and final. Gloved fingers touched his chin, warm and familiar. Alfred blinked, watching as Ivan pulled his gloves off with his teeth, putting his fingers along his pulse. “Hi gorgeous,” Alfred said.

“Your pupils are dilated.” Ivan said. He pulled back, putting the gloves back on and pulled out a set of lock picks from his pants. “And your pulse is too fast.”

“What are you doing here?” Alfred asked, watching Ivan quickly pick the locks.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t come for you?” Ivan asked quietly. His accent was thicker and Alfred could tell he was upset, even in a drugged haze.

“Yeah,” Alfred said. “You don’t like me. You’ve been mad at me since last mission. It’s why we split up.”

“No,” Ivan corrected, opening one of the locks. Tacky blood pulled at the skin and Alfred winced. Ivan slowed his motions, being far more gentle than before. “That is not why we split up.”

“Yeah it was. Me n’ Marcus, you by yourself.”

“Alfred,” Ivan muttered, “I needed to be able to open the safe without Marcus watching me. That’s why you took over watching him.”

“Oh. Alfred said. He watched Ivan as he focused on opening the lock on his other hand, face close. Lips close. “I want to kiss you, “Alfred said sadly.

Ivan’s fingers faltered. He looked up, and Alfred was fully caught in his eyes. Red crested his cheek as he looked down. “Later,” Ivan muttered. The lock opened and Ivan gingerly freed Alfred’s wrist. His thumb trailed parallel to the wound.

“Later?” Alfred asked in confusion. Ivan helped him sit up. The world spun and Alfred leaned over, vomiting away from Ivan. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It is okay,” Ivan said. He moved on to Alfred’s feet. Alfred watched silently, fingers clenched on the fabric over his thigh.

“Later will be too late,” Alfred said.

“Why?” Ivan asked, moving to the last lock.

“I won’t be able to tell you that I love you.” hot tears of frustration welled up. Ivan watched him in confusion. “That I want to kiss you and hold you and f–“ he stopped when Ivan’s hand rested on his leg.

“Don’t tell me things you don’t mean,” Ivan said. He pulled his hand away and the silence felt cold in the room.

“I do mean it,” Alfred said, voice hitched with emotion.

“No,” Ivan said finishing with the last lock. “You don’t. You are not yourself at this moment. You are drugged.”

Alfred moved his legs over the side of the table and stared at the concrete floor. “I do mean it. I’m just scared.”

“Of what?”

“That you don’t like me.” His voice fell, small. Fragile.

Ivan watched him and Alfred’s face felt hot. “Tell me,” he finally said and Alfred looked up. “When the drug’s gone. Be brave and tell me. See what my answer is.”

“Okay,” Alfred said. Ivan helped him up, and Alfred could barely stand. “Where’d the rabbit go?” he mumbled, head lolling in exhaustion.

“There’s no rabbit,” Ivan said, shifting Alfred’s weight to better carry him.

“Mmhm. But it left and I heard you instead.”

“That’s the radio in your ear,” Ivan said simply.

“Oh.”

“Come,” Ivan moved them forwards to the door. Alfred didn’t look at Lexi and David’s bodies. Ivan was warm against him and Alfred shivered. He smelled like gun oil and sweat. “Let us go and get you help.”

“Okay.”

#rusame #rusame spy au #tw: drugs #tw: violence #tw: blood #iridulcentwritings

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missmungoe · 7 years

Text

TOURNESOL // Sabo x Koala & baby // rated G // It takes a revolutionary army to raise a child. Or something like that, anyway.

His daughter is so small it almost beggars belief.

Her head fits into the cup of his palm and with room to spare, the soft curve of it so fragile his hand feels almost too large in comparison, fingers curled around the back of it with all the care he can muster. And he’s never been more aware of the strength sitting in his grip than he is now, holding her – and for the first time in his life the knowledge is entirely humbling.

That tiny, wrinkled face doesn’t so much as twitch, and she’s been asleep for several minutes, eyes shut above a nose so small he can’t stop staring at it.

“She won’t disappear if you put her down, you know.”

The tired murmur drags his eyes from the baby to the bed, to find Koala awake and watching him.

“I have a vague memory of you holding her before I fell asleep,” she says, pushing herself up on the mattress, and Sabo’s smile falls at the pain that contorts her features into a grimace. “And I feel like I’ve been out a while.”

“Twelve hours,” he says, and watches her eyes blink slowly, as though she’s having trouble processing the words. There are no windows in the infirmary, and between the sterile walls and the fluorescent lights the passage of time tends to disappear.

He comes to take a seat on the bed, careful not to disturb the baby, or Koala, and her expression softens into one of relief when she sinks back against the pillows. “How do you feel?” he asks.

A sigh drags loose of her, and he feels a pang of worry, before the corner of her mouth lifts, just a fraction. “Is it Iva-chan’s stuff that I’m on, or something else? It’s really good.” But even as she says it there’s a sheen of sweat clinging to her brow, and Sabo has half a mind to call for the doctor.

“Don’t,” Koala says, before he has the chance, and he feels the near-desperate touch of her fingers against his thigh. “I’m okay,” she adds, no doubt at the look on his face, and he’s tempted to tell her it would sound more convincing if he couldn’t still hear the pain in her voice, but – “Can it just be us for a moment?” she murmurs, and whatever he’d been about to say leaves him with a breath.

Her gaze flicks to the baby in his arms, and it’s another small marvel in a line of many – the fact that us means more than just the two of them now.

“Here,” Sabo says then, shuffling closer, only to find her smile quirking, amusement bright in her tired eyes. “What?”

“I’m just surprised you’re handing her over without a fight,” Koala says.

He tries not to look affronted. “You’re her mother.”

A single brow lifts. “Have you given anyone else a chance to hold her?”

Sabo averts his eyes to the ceiling, and Koala’s sigh holds a laugh, but when he places the baby into her arms her expression changes – shifts, exhaustion still clinging to her features, but the smile on her face mirrors his, wide and silly and tinged with that now-familiar disbelief.

“She’s so tiny.” She touches a fingertip to that little nose, the small movement seeming entirely natural, her own hands sure in their handling where his still feel awkward, even though he’s seen them wreak just as much havoc. For a moment the sight holds his gaze entirely captive, before Koala lifts her eyes, grin widening. “And cute.”

“Yeah,” Sabo laughs, touch lingering by the pale dusting of hair on the baby’s head. “I’m still having a hard time wrapping my mind around it.”

“That we made something this small, or this cute?”

He grins. “She was always going to be cute,” he quips. “Have you seen her mother?”

He receives a look for that, and, “You’re such a dork,” Koala sighs, but her grin chases some of the exhaustion from her features. “Imagine her teen years. She’s going to be so embarrassed.”

He pouts. “I resent that.”

“Don’t,” Koala says, with a surety that strikes like a blow, even before she adds, “She’ll adore you.”

“In spite of it?” he teases, but when he looks at her he finds her expression entirely serious. And he’s not surprised that she caught the underlying note of genuine worry, however self-deprecating the suggestion.

“Sabo,” she says then, the honorific retired some time ago, but the sound of his name always feels like a new thing. “I’m really glad you’re her dad.”

Despite himself, he allows his grin to turn wry, gaze shifting to the baby tucked against her breast. “I hope she’ll feel the same.”

Koala’s fingers curl around his wrist, her grip tight enough to hurt, but her expression is a far kinder thing, and speaks volumes where she doesn’t – enough for him to shove his concerns about the future out of the way, at least in favour of the moment before him now; their daughter, coming out of her slumber, frown firmly in place.

A moment passes where they both watch the baby, snug in her mother’s hold and still so small it’s hard to fathom, even as he tries to imagine what she’ll be like one day, years from now – too big to carry, and with a personality all her own.

Then, her tone brimming with dry amusement–

“You’re already thinking of ways to embarrass her, aren’t you?”

“I have so many ideas.”

—

“She’s chubby.”

“Most babies are a little chubby, Luffy.”

His brother’s hand hovers a moment, before he touches a careful finger to the baby’s stomach. Awake and alert, her eyes track every movement above her field of vision, focused now in a way that’s brand new, and entirely thrilling.

“Does she do anything?” Luffy asks then, when a moment of silence has passed wherein the baby has done nothing but meet his gaze, although he hasn’t looked away, Sabo notes.

“What,” he laughs. “Like tricks?”

“Yeah!”

“Eats and poops, mostly,” Sabo supplies, and Luffy’s grin widens.

“Cool.” His gaze is still focused on the baby, and Sabo observes, fascinated for an entirely different reason. His little brother’s notoriously fleeting attention span notwithstanding, he hasn’t dragged his eyes away from his niece for several minutes.

Luffy reaches out to touch a small foot, and grins when her toes curl at the contact. “So I’m her uncle now?” he asks, lifting his eyes to Sabo’s, before they’re claimed again by a small noise.

“You’ve been her uncle since before she was born,” Sabo reminds him. “But yeah,” he adds, smile curving. “You are.”

“But what do uncles do, anyway?”

Sabo smiles, eyes on his daughter, enthralled by the scarred and curious face peering into hers. “You could teach her things.”

Luffy’s grimace is as earnest as his every other feeling, and, “I don’t like teaching,” he announces.

There’s a second where Sabo feels tempted to point out that Garp’s idea of teaching isn’t the textbook standard, or anything to aspire to for that matter, but he curbs his tongue, aware that they both carry the weight of their childhoods with them, and in vastly different ways. And there’s a nameless emotion swelling in his chest at the sight of his brother’s face now, as though a decision has been made; the determined slant to his brow holding a promise.

And Sabo knows it will be years before his daughter is old enough to grasp the meaning behind that look, but it’s something to behold, still – one uncle’s silent promise of the whole world, to put at her feet.

“Then you could show her things,” Sabo says, voice thick. “The things you like.”

Luffy’s entire countenance brightens. “D’you think she’ll like beetles?”

Sabo smiles. “If you show her your favourite, she might.”

The grin his answer sparks stays, and Sabo watches, a little mesmerised, as his daughter’s own widens in response. A reflex, most likely – she’s too young for it to be a conscious action, but it makes Luffy laugh, visibly delighted at the sight, and so Sabo tucks the words under his tongue, and finds his own smile hard to remove.

Then, his voice quiet – too quiet for his usual volume, and at any other time it might have been cause for concern, but when Luffy lifts his eyes to Sabo he finds concern is the furthest thing from his mind as his brother asks, with more care than he’s ever heard–

“Can I hold her?”

—

“Sabo-kun?”

The use of the honorific alerts him, long before he picks up on the far too cheerful note in her voice.

Lifting his eyes from the pile of paperwork on his desk, it’s to find Koala standing on the other side, arms crossed over her chest. And he’s almost afraid to ask, but – “Yes?”

Her expression is carefully patient. “You wouldn’t happen to know where our daughter is, would you?”

He blinks. “She’s not with you?”

One brow raised, she spreads her arms, as though to say does it look like she’s with me?

He’s about to ask if she’s checked the nursery, already knowing it’s a stupid question, but even so she beats him to it.

“The crib is empty,” she says, and even though her expression shows nothing but that careful calm, the one that’s hard to shake even in the direst of situations, he catches the slight furrow to her brows as she speaks the words.

Despite himself, he feels a flicker of worry, even as he blurts, “She’s two months old. She can’t even roll over yet. How did she get out?”

Koala presses her knuckles to her brow. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking.”

He’s rising from his seat, requisition forms forgotten. “Maybe Hack has her?”

Koala shakes her head. “I checked.”

“Iva-chan?”

“Sabo, I asked everyone. I can’t find her anywhere!”

A note of panic has slipped into her voice now, and he would tell her it’s alright – that freaking out before they’ve considered the most obvious facts won’t get them anywhere, but with his own panic rising he’s not really one to point fingers. And it’s something he’s yet to grow used to – that irrational fear that sometimes grabs hold of him, prompted by anything from a suspicious couch, to the sudden fear that she’ll stop breathing in her sleep.

“Okay,” he says then, running a hand through his hair. “Is there anyone you haven’t asked?”

She opens her mouth, as though she already has a retort ready, but before she can speak she lets it snap shut, and – blinks, as though the answer just presented itself.

“Koala?” Sabo asks, but she’s making for the door, and he’s given no choice but to follow, still calling her name, but there’s purpose in her step now, and he’s too busy trying to catch up to notice where they’re headed.

It’s not before she’s opening the door to Dragon’s office that Sabo reacts, but the words die on his tongue before he can speak them, whatever protest he’d had planned driven clean from his mind as he comes to a stop beside her just beyond the doorway.

“Anything the matter?” Dragon asks, without looking up from the report in his hand, severe features drawn into a familiar frown. In the crook of his other arm their daughter lies sleeping, the fluffy yellow blanket tucked around her a stark contrast to the dark cloak their illustrious leader is shrouded in.

There’s a moment where all they do is stare, before Dragon lifts his gaze from the document to look at them.

“She was crying,” he says simply, as though that answers everything. “This seemed a suitable arrangement for both of us.”

His look turns decidedly wry then, hard features shifting into something akin to amusement, and, “New parents should take whatever moments of reprieve available to them,” he says, before calmly turning his gaze back to the report. “The requisitions can wait a few hours, Sabo.”

He’s about to respond – to say what exactly, he’s not sure, but then Koala’s hand is on his elbow, tugging, and through his surprise Sabo finds the mind to follow.

They’ve rounded the corner when his laughter falls, a startled breath, and Koala raises her eyes to his, her earlier worry having bled away, leaving something playful and amused. And Sabo knows it’s echoed on his own face as he comes to a stop, and asks–

“Do you think he sang to her?” It’s the only surefire way they’ve found to make her stop crying, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t imagine it.

“The itsy-bitsy spider is her favourite,” he says then, although that doesn’t really help matters – or make the image any more believable. “He probably knows it, too.” Then again, there isn’t a soul at their headquarters who doesn’t know that fact, or the song – people have been humming it in the corridors for weeks.

Then with a breath – “I’m telling everyone,” Sabo declares.

He receives a punch in the shoulder for that. “Good luck cleaning the communal toilets for the next two months,” Koala says. “Let’s just accept Dragon-san’s offer and be happy. No teasing about tiny spiders.”

He grins, fingers winding through hers. “I don’t know – does cleaning toilets get me off diaper duty?"

Eyes twinkling, she gives his hand a tug, the gesture clever with intent and holding the promise of a very specific form of reprieve. But her smile contains the same barely-contained amusement that he feels as she chirps, laughing–

“Not a chance.”

—

She’s a curious creation – at once like both of them, but at the same time entirely her own, from that singular, toothless smile to the shade of her hair, pale gold tinged with copper.

Her obstinate personality, though, is all her mother’s.

“Sol,” Sabo says, a sigh clinging to the name, a familiar thing now for how new it still is on his tongue. “Lie still.”

She doesn’t. Instead she wiggles, the diaper coming loose, along with all his efforts. And he knows she can’t understand him, and that it’s not done with mischievous intent, but sometimes Sabo is sorely tempted to believe she does – and that it very much is.

“You’re never this difficult when your mom changes you,” he says, poking her stomach, but he can’t even feign being reproachful when the giggle he receives in response sounds like that.

“That’s because she knows she can’t get away with it,” comes the voice from behind him, before a pair of hands slip past him, to fasten the loose ends of the cloth, fingers quick and certain in their movements. When she draws back, she tucks a kiss against his cheek, and cheerfully ignores the glare.

“Show-off,” Sabo mutters, to which Koala sticks her tongue out. “So what’s your secret? Do you give her a lecture if she doesn’t stay still?”

“She’s four months old,” Koala says, giving one small foot a tickle, and prompting another gummy grin. “But even if she did understand, I doubt she’d listen,” she adds, sliding him a look. “I have a feeling she’s going to be a lot like you.”

Sabo pouts. “You make it sound like such a bad thing. Doesn’t she?” He looks to their daughter, as though for confirmation, and wonders if there’ll be a time where she’ll be ready to offer it – some kind of mischief made, and a mutual alliance formed between them.

The thought dredges up another, of parents who’d never indulged his schemes but told him to be quiet and go back to his studies. But instead of the regret he usually finds, looking at his own daughter now, with her cheeky smile promising numerous future schemes and invitations for him to partake, Sabo finds an entirely different feeling.

Koala’s smile is soft, and when she reaches out to smooth her hand over the soft down on the baby’s head, some of the strands having begun to curl–

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing at all,” she says quietly, the simple honesty in her voice ringing like a truth, and Sabo doesn’t think he could have managed a response to that if he’d looked for it.

—

“Block!” Hack announces, voice ringing out across the group of recruits, all paired up and sparring, their movements holding the still-awkward tension of beginners, along with the occasional wince following the instructions shouted across the training grounds.

“I don’t see you blocking,” Hack sighs. Then to the baby on his arm, fingers shoved in her mouth and her eyes wide and taking in the sight before her – “Do you see them blocking? No?” And to the recruits, “My assistant doesn’t see you blocking, either. Shape up!”

“Was this your idea?” Sabo asks Koala, observing the spectacle from a little ways off.

“Don’t look at me,” she says, bumping her hip against his as she comes to stand beside him. “I’m technically still on maternity leave. I can’t help it that Hack filled my position in the meantime.”

Sabo offers her a look, but finds it difficult holding back his grin. The baby on Hack’s arm looks at once entirely out of place, and like she was made to fit, eagerly kicking her legs as the recruits scramble to follow instructions.

“Was putting her in the whale-shark onesie a happy coincidence?” Sabo asks then, the blue-and-white pattern noticeable even from where they’re standing, along with the tiny fins sown into the fabric.

“Knowing Hack?” Koala laughs. “Probably not.”

“It’s stupidly cute.”

“Isn’t it?”

Hack’s sigh carries all the to where they’re standing. “See now, if this had been a real fight, you’d be dead,” he calls to one of the recruits, who lies sprawled on his back in the dirt. Then to their daughter, “Isn’t that right?”

The baby offers a happy gurgle, and Hack seems momentarily distracted by the sound, before he clears his throat, and – “Uh– right. Good job, recruits. Er– go take a break.”

Sabo slides Koala another look. “That’s the second break he’s given them in an hour. We were lucky if he’d give us leave to go to the bathroom when we were staring out,” he says, before looking back to where the rookies have gathered around their colleague and daughter, training quite forgotten. And it’s a curious sight – the towering fishman bouncing a baby so small he could balance her on his palm, but every movement is made with care, and a keen awareness that Sabo has felt himself on more than one occasion.

Then, “Do you think he’s going soft?” Sabo murmurs, and Koala winces even before Hack turns, his shout carrying across the grounds–

“Who’s going soft?!”

—

“We managed to relocate the prisoners, and there have been measures taken to accommodate them, as there were more than we’d anticipated. But overall the extraction was a success.”

The gurgle beneath his chin punctuates his recount, before an insistent tug on his cravat follows, but Sabo doesn’t glance down as the baby proceeds to try and shove the whole of it in her mouth.

“Casualties?” Dragon asks, considering the written report in his hands.

“None on our side.”

“Resources spent?”

“Uh – let me get the numbers. Koala made some adjustments.”

Someone hands him the documents, and his daughter changes hands without a fuss, although Sabo has to tug off his cravat when her lower lip wobbles, tears threatening at the promise of separation from it. But no one in the room bats an eye as he yields it to small, grabbing fingers, although he catches more than one barely-contained smile when a delighted noise follows, accompanied by a slobbering raspberry as she proceeds to shove it back in her mouth, and Sabo briefly laments the fate of the silk.

He recounts the numbers, and has to raise his voice only a little in order to be heard over the excited shriek that rises from across the room, followed by another bubbly gurgle of laughter.

For his part, Dragon seems entirely unperturbed. “You’ll make arrangements for the transfer of funds?”

“Already done.”

“And the weapon requisitions?”

“Still pending your approval.”

“What about our honorary recruit?” Dragon asks then, dark eyes holding quiet amusement, and Sabo’s mouth lifts.

“Changed and fed.”

“Any troubling behaviour to report?”

Sabo spares a glance towards the baby, his cravat cheerfully forgotten with the new and exciting prospect of Inazuma’s glasses, now within her reach. “Displays some disregard for private property, but the incidents are minor in nature.”

Glasses now in her possession, Inazuma’s expression is as level as ever, but at Sabo’s look that toothless smile stretches around the glasses, a thin thread of drool dribbling down her chin.

Sabo grins. “She also tries to pass off blatant acts of insubordination by being unfairly cute.”

Dragon is almost smiling. “Hmm. See that you keep an eye on her.”

Somehow, Sabo isn’t surprised when a whole chorus of affirmations rises up in response to that order.

—

He’d known, from the day he’d first learned of her existence, back when she’d been just a quickening of life under his palm, what his impending fatherhood might end in if he wasn’t careful.

He’s always been impulsive – split-second decisions and daring risks, grabbed before he’s had the chance to feel regret. And it’s served him well, all the way through his training and as he rose in the ranks of the Revolutionary Army. It had earned him a reputation – and his share of pinched ears and lectures from Koala, but the results had always been worth it. His actions had made a difference.

Things change, after his daughter is born. He makes himself think twice – still while on his feet, because that’s the way he works best and always has, but he’s more careful now; if not for his own sake, or even Koala’s, then for the little life that depends on them both. Theirs is a dangerous profession, and the world more dangerous yet, but when he’s huddled in a trench now, bullets flying overhead, his heart is the calmest it’s ever been, certain in the vow he made, to not let his daughter grow up in that world without him.

Of course, certain fears run deeper than others, and can’t be allayed by a simple change in routine.

He’ll dream sometimes, of the nursery burning.

It’s always the same dream, and it always ends the same way – the flames consuming everything, and he wakes with a start, sweat coating his back and a shout lodged in his throat; nothing more than a choked noise in the quiet, even as the screaming in his head persists – his daughter’s the loudest of all.

“Sabo-kun?”

When she’s tired she’ll slip into old habits, Sabo knows, the syllables of his name sitting thick on her tongue, along with the old honorific. But he roots his mind in the sound of it, until he’s managed to rein his breathing back into something that isn’t threatening to make him throw up.

“I’m fine,” he says, voice rough – from sleep, and that silent scream still wrapped around his windpipe. “Just a bad dream.” He touches his fingers to her hair, fanned out across the pillow, and watches her eyes flutter. “Go back to sleep.”

He waits until she does – until he hears her breathing even out, by which time he’s regained control of his own. And he spares her a last glance before he drags himself off the bed, steps half-stumbling and his heart still threatening at the bottom of his throat as he makes for the door.

He’d joke about it, back when he’d first gotten his devil fruit powers, that the fire was hard to control. But the old joke doesn’t feel funny anymore, especially not now, remnants of the nightmare still clinging as he picks his way across the corridor to the door opposite, following a route he could walk in his sleep. He almost doesn’t dare breathe until he’s reached the crib, and even then it’s an effort forcing air into his lungs, as though he’s afraid of what he’ll find when he looks.

But his daughter sleeps, arms above her head, her rest undisturbed. And for a moment all Sabo does is watch her, allowing his heart to settle, and his shoulders to yield some of the tension that’s knotted in his muscles.

Touching a shaking fingertip to a round cheek, he finds it smooth an unblemished. And it’s been years since he learned to control his powers, but there are other memories of fire that are harder to forget – ones that are older and even further out of his control, and that seem all the more terrible for it, with a life as new and innocent as the one at his fingertips.

He stays until sleep reclaims him, his back against the crib, too tired to make his way back across the corridor. And there will be a time where he’ll be called upon to stay, to offer comfort rather than seek it, but for now he’ll draw his assurances from those little breaths, and his comfort from the whole of her, still untouched by the world.

—

When he wakes next it’s to find a blanket draped across him, and Koala tucked against his side, fast asleep. The crib is digging between his shoulder blades, and he has no idea what time it is or how long he’s been asleep, although the kink in his back suggests a few hours, at the very least.

Koala doesn’t stir, and there’s no sound from behind him that indicates their daughter is awake, either. And so he stays where he is, head leaned back against the crib and Koala’s nose pressed into his shoulder, sleep far beyond his grasp, but it doesn’t matter. Because it’s a kinder awakening than his last one, and as the early morning hours begin to crawl across the room, manifesting in the familiar sounds of recruits starting their morning training, and tired feet shuffling towards the mess, accompanied by muted voices through the walls, Sabo looks for his fears–

–and finds nothing but the pale shadows of cold ashes; no fire in sight.

—

It’s the quiet moments he likes best, stolen between duties, the gentle weight of her on his chest and her back warm under his palm, rising and falling with her breaths.

He’s dozing when there’s a touch to his brow, and he blinks to find a familiar pair of blue eyes looking down at him.

“How’s that report going?” Koala asks, amusement brimming, but her voice low so as not to wake the baby.

His grin is a tired thing, and when he feels the touch of her lips to his brow he lets his eyes slip shut again. “She was fussing. I had to prioritise.”

The laugh that ghosts across his brow is soft. “Some Chief of Staff you are,” she muses, but he feels the worn couch dipping with her weight as she takes a seat beside him where he’s stretched himself out.

Then, feeling her tug the crumpled documents out from where he’d fallen asleep on them, “What are you doing?”

“I’ll finish these for you,” Koala says, and Sabo feels the gentle touch against his hand where he’s rested it across their daughter’s back. And he hears the note of fondness in her voice when she adds, “I don’t mind.”

He’s caught her wrist before she can move away. “The paperwork can wait one hour,” he says, the invitation clear but unspoken, as most things between them.

She twists her hand in his, intertwining their fingers; the gesture her answer even as she says, “You’re taking up the entire couch.”

He shifts, the action a wordless response, but one that’s mindful not to wake the sleeping baby on his chest. And it takes a moment, but then Koala’s sigh falls, and he hears the rustling of paper as she puts the unfinished report away.

Then he feels her weight settling against his, and the tuck of her head against his shoulder as he slips his free arm around her back, rearranging themselves around the little shape with an ease that the last few months have taught them.

“One hour,” Koala murmurs, but the warning is softened by the fact that she’s fast on her way to sleep. “Dragon-san called for a staff meeting at four, and the paperwork needs to be done by then. One hour will give you plenty of time to finish it.”

Fingers touching against the tips of her hair, her response is the tender press of her lips against the juncture of his neck, before he feels her hand curl around the one he still has wrapped around their daughter’s back. And his hum of agreement is swallowed by the yawn that drags loose of his chest, but, “One hour,” Sabo agrees.

—

They wake five minutes to four, the documents gone – the paperwork completed and filed, but the culprit nowhere to be found.

Although – Sabo has a feeling of who it might be, even as Dragon’s expression refuses to yield so much as a hint. And as the meeting commences he finds it suddenly hard to concentrate, their daughter asleep in her crib and their duties once again taking first priority, except–

Except there’s a knot of something sitting at the bottom of his ribcage; a tight coil of gratitude and regret and a whole number of other emotions, realising suddenly the privilege they’re offered every day, and in numerous little ways, to steal a single hour to be parents first, revolutionaries second.

All because another man relinquished that right once, to create the very organisation that now allows them the chance of being both.

—

Considering his life, retrograde amnesia included, it’s safe to say he hasn’t had the best role models – at least insofar as being a parent is concerned.

Barring one obvious exception, that is.

The Den Den Mushi stares back at him from the table, wide eyes furrowed and mouth trembling at the corners – that near-uncanny mimicry of expression betraying the stubborn attempts of the person on the other end of the line, to hide their tears.

“Happy birthday, Dadan,” Sabo says, and laughs when he has to pull small hands away from reaching for the snail for the umpteenth time. “Sol would say the same if she could talk. And if she wasn’t so busy trying to put the Den Den Mushi in her mouth.”

A racking laugh crackles over the line. “Got your hands full, do you?”

He’s tempted to point out just how literal that saying is, when he has to curve his palm around his daughter’s stomach to keep her from tumbling off his lap. “Something like that.”

“Well. Serves you right, with all the grief you boys have given me over the years,” she says, and Sabo smiles, and keeps from pointing out that it sounds far too fond to be properly irritated, suspecting already that she’s given up pretending, even before Dadan asks, a quaver of hope accompanying the question – “So you gonna bring her for a visit one of these days?”

Sabo pauses. Not even a full year old, they’ve yet to take her off the island, even when their positions have demanded their attentions elsewhere. And he thinks of the turbulent seas, and the long distance – all the dangers spanning the waters between their two islands, and everything that could happen on such a voyage.

But then he thinks of the woman who’d taught him, however rough and unconventional her methods, what it meant to have a mother, even when he’d thought he’d known the meaning of that word. The woman who’d grieved him, and who’d for so long considered him lost.

And so, “Yeah,” he says, curling his fingers around the small, chubby ones still stubbornly reaching for the snail. And when his daughter looks up, blue eyes wide in a face he knows as well as his own, Sabo tries to imagine what he’d do if he never saw her again – if he thought her lost for twelve years, and when he found her, had to live with the fact that she’d made a life for herself, miles and seas away.

Having tightened his grip around her stomach, he pretends he doesn’t hear the tears in Dadan’s laughter when Sol gives a happy shriek, before making another grab for the receiver. And when he speaks next his voice is the one that breaks, but he doesn’t care, knowing she’ll hear the truth in the words when he offers it–

“Count on it.”

—

It’s not always easy, given their pasts and the world they live in, to imagine what their daughter’s life will be like.

“Sometimes I’m worried,” Koala murmurs, voice quiet so as not to wake the baby, tucked between them on the mattress, fast asleep after hours of restless fussing. “That we made the right choice bringing her into this world.”

Sabo meets her eyes from across the top of Sol’s stomach, rising and falling with her small breaths. But he doesn’t tell her not to worry, knowing how many times he’s thought the same, ever since the day he’d placed his palm to the curve of her stomach and felt that first flutter of movement.

He thinks of how vastly different their experiences have been – the mother she remembers so fondly, and the parents he’d rather forget. The life of privilege he’d had for so many years, and the hell she’d suffered. All her mother’s love hadn’t saved her from that, just like his parents’ indifference hadn’t cushioned the hard truth of the life he’d been born into.

“We can’t control what happens when she goes out on her own,” Sabo says, and finds even as he speaks the words a keen reluctance – an almost visceral reaction, watching her sleep. Because he’s seen all the dark corners of the seas, and what hides in them – and what’s worse, he’s seen the things that don’t make a point of hiding; the things that exist in broad daylight, and are all the more terrible for it.

He watches their daughter, still such an infinitely small thing, copper-gold hair curling in earnest now and her blue eyes shut beneath heavy lids. And it’s hard to imagine what she’ll be like, and what kind of mark she’ll leave on the world. That she will in some way or another he’s never doubted – it’s a curious certainty that sits, somewhere beneath his heart.

“But we can give her a good life,” he says then, and finds his smile comes without effort, despite that lingering curl of worry that he suspects will always be there. “I’m not worried about that.”

When he looks up it’s to find that Koala has fallen asleep, her breaths heavy from a long night without rest, and her hand resting across the baby’s stomach. And touching his fingers to hers, Sabo finds it’s been months since he last thought of what his own were capable of, and what it would mean for their daughter. Now it’s second nature, the care that comes without thinking, prompted by a knowledge that’s burrowed so deep within him he can’t separate himself from it – the one that says you’re a father, a steady reminder offered with every little heartbeat under Koala’s palm.

But it’s not just the two of them, and he thinks of the nursery, fashioned from an old storage closet, and the shifts they’d all taken those first few weeks when she’d refused to sleep through the night. Dragon’s endless patience through numerous mission briefings interrupted by screaming and babbling in equal measure, and Hack’s gentle hands. And Luffy, who calls her beetle and looks at her like she’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

“Even if the world isn’t good, she’ll never doubt it was a good thing that she was born,” Sabo says, voice low so as not to wake either of them. And when his smile curves now it’s a sombre thing, except the feeling kindling in his chest is anything but as he adds quietly, and for someone he always hopes is listening–

“Eh, Ace?”

#Sabo #One Piece Sabo #One Piece Koala #Sabo x Koala #Saboala #Sabo/Koala #Monkey D. Dragon #Hack #Monkey D. Luffy #One Piece #opfanfiction #opfanfic #kidfic #my fic #mungoe writes

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