#( verse | winding of the gears )
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It's late and I'm thinking about older Lu.ffy.
He's definitely the same old dumbass but he's matured even more, less impulsive more wait and see because his curiosity doesn't hold any fear. Wants to see what the thing can do before just punching it, knows he can take it no problem. Still willing to do most things but it's not cause he's dumb just experienced. Island needs saving? Sure but how bad can it be, long as no one gets hurt on his watch let the bad guy cook a little. Does he still wander off? Oh absolutely but he takes a den den mushi with him. Do people wasting food still piss him off? You bet. He knows when to be silly and relaxed and when to stand on business. He never lets his status as King inflate his ego. I can see him deferring to his crew more for input on what they should do and how. He's able to focus more buuuuut things can still go off the rails this is him after all. He still follows whims and feelings, still doesn't do anything he doesn't want to, still sees the good in people, still open to new experiences.
I want him to always be himself even as he ages.
#verse: ╮━━━ ✦( older n wiser) ━━━#wind in your sail ) ✦ .'✦ ━━━#ooc#i want to play around with older Luffy it's giving a less depressed shanks#shifting '✦ gears. ) ━━━
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My King
Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?
Chapter summary: You and König attend a holiday party.
Pairing: König x Fem Reader
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, vague racism, heat (omega verse)
Word count: 3.1k
Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.
A/n: Omg....Hi guys......it's me.....hey.......I am alive. This chapter is defiantly geared more towards my poc readers. Theres some angst that i'll revisit in a later chapter. Some comments are made. You'll see. Anyways, I can't promise I will be posting super consistently but I will definatly try to post more then I have been.
Previous Chapter
Chapter Five:
Your editor droned on about deadlines and writing engines as you ate some soup König got you earlier. You can hear the desperation through the computer screen. You'd be lying if you said you were listening. They'll get the pages when they get them, with you, no money. König sat on the couch waiting for your meeting to be done.
“I'll get the next chapter done, Frankie.” You said.
“You promise?” He was almost teary-eyed.
“Yes, I promise.”
You hung up and closed your laptop while sighing. You got up and walked over to your giant Alpha. You outstretched his arm, inviting you to cuddle. You obliged plopping yourself on his lap and resting your head on his chest. The November winds were seeping into the atmosphere slowly. You didn't mind. That meant the holidays were coming.
“The 141 is having an early holiday party. Everyone goes on leave one week into December, so we celebrate early. Would you like to go with me, Schatz?”
“Oh yes, that sounds lovely. When is it?” You asked delightedly.
“This weekend. It's a dressy event.”
The weekend was in four days. You haven't done your hair or dressed up in a while. You'd want a new dress for this especially with the cold, but you supposed you could make something work. As for your hair, it was time to hit up a YouTube tutorial for some ideas. König seemed to sense your internal struggle.
“We can go shopping today, I need a button-down shirt.”
“You don't have a button-down?” You asked a little amused.
“Never needed one.”
“Huh, well I also want to get my hair done. But, I've never been to a stylist here.” You started searching for braiders in the area, and to your surprise, there were some.
The prices were comparable to ones in the US so that gave you some comfort. König looked over your shoulder browsing the different styles along with you. Some he has seen and others he hasn't. He chimed in with some styles he thought would look cute on you every so often.
“Oh, she has an appointment available tomorrow.”
“Book it, I'll take you.”
“I can take myself it's alright.”
“Nein. I'll take you.”
You grumbled a bit at his stubbornness but gave in. You booked the appointment and placed your deposit.
“How much is it?” König asked.
“Um, all together with the deposit, one hundred fifty euros. I was also gonna tip but I forgot Europe doesn't do that.”
König replied with a 'hmm' and tapped away on his phone. Your phone dinged and you checked the notification.
'König has sent you € 150,00'
“Kö, You don't have to pay for this.”
“Why shouldn't I? You are mine, You want it, I like it when you look beautiful, so I pay.” He said simply.
König had a habit of paying for everything. You liked it but it made you a little uncomfortable. This wasn't how you'd be treated back in the States. Whenever you mentioned it, König would always rant about how American men were cheap and lazy. He also would mention how he has more money than he needs so spending it on you is fun. König loves to see your little face light up whenever he buys you something sweet, or a piece of jewelry you were looking at. He told you to get dressed for the shopping trip and you obliged, making sure you were bundled up for the cold weather.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two of you opted to shop for König's clothes first. Finding clothing that fits him nicely is a challenge with how tall and muscular he is. There were some stores specifically made for big and tall men that you went into first. One store only had bright floral patterned shirts and loosely fitting dress pants. Neither you nor your Alpha liked that. The next one had some nice boots in his size. They were a fancier version of combat boots. Finally, you found a simple black button-down shirt and slim tapered dress pants for him. You made him try it on before leaving the store.
My god...You had to keep yourself from drooling. The pants hugged his waist perfectly, and the shirt was just tight enough for you to see some muscle peeking through. König smirked at your reaction.
“You think this will look good with my sniper hood?” he asked.
“What?! You're gonna wear your hood and cover-up that gorgeous face? No way.”
“I don't show my face to anyone on base, Schatz.”
“Hmm, well you look good in anything so... I guess.” You pouted.
König got dressed and paid for his clothes. Nearby there were a few boutiques with dresses. You wanted something nice, but not too fancy. You didn't want to overdress. König was patient with you as you browsed a bunch of stores. Eventually, you found something you liked. It was a midi deep purple knit dress. It had elegant sleeves and looked like it could be dressed up or down. Perfect for a cold night. König sat on the bench of the fitting room as you tried it on. You came out and twirled giving him a full view of the dress.
“So?” You asked.
“Beautiful.” He motioned for you to come closer. When you did he placed a hand on your hip gingerly.
“I can think of many things I could do to you in this dress.” He said quietly.
“König!” You gave him a light slap on the arm and went back into the changing room embarrassed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day you started prepping for your hair appointment. You had to wash your hair but the stylist said she could blow-dry it for you. You spent about an hour washing your hair and another detangling it. König kept you company on the couch as you combed and sectioned it out. You sighed and slumped on the couch once you were done. Your arms were a little sore but you were glad you were done. You put your bonnet on to keep your hair neat and moisturized. You made sure you had your tip ready and a book to read while you got your hair done. König stood at the door watching you pace around the apartment gathering your things.
The drive to the salon was quick and smooth. König gave you a kiss on the cheek before you exited the car. You opened the door to the building, and the smell of hair spray wafted into your nose. A tall woman greeted you as you walked in. Her hair was braided back into neat rows and her dark cheeks had a warm glow to them.
“Are you my twelve pm?” She asked with a smile.
“Yes, I am, nice to meet you.”
She guided you into a salon chair and got started. Her hands were quick, skilled, and gentle as she worked her way through your head of hair. In about two hours she finished. You admired your new do in the mirror and thanked your stylist profusely. König waited at a café down the street. You spotted him sitting peacefully at one of the outdoor tables, away from most other patrons. As you got closer he glanced up to meet and look at you. His eyes widened, taking in your new look. Although he had his mask on you could tell he was smiling under it. He stood up to greet you.
“You look beautiful, Liebe.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead careful to avoid touching your freshly done hair. You giggled bashfully and returned his kiss on his cheek.
The next few days went by quickly. You did some extra work and scheduled an editor meeting before the weekend. When Saturday rolled around, you were anxious. You wanted to make a good impression with your Alpha's coworkers. How do you act around military personnel? Your father never brought you around any of his military friends. As you got ready you just tried to keep an open mind and stay confident in yourself. Also, you will get to see Soap again. You slipped on your dress and spritzed a light mist of perfume.
You walked out of your room while looking through your purse to make sure you had all of your essentials. König was sitting on the couch but stood when he saw you. He was dressed and ready, looking over your form affectionately. You zipped around the dining room and kitchen making sure you had everything in order. König walked over to you, stopping you in your path. He slinked his hand around your waist pulling you out of your thoughts. He pulled you into his chest gently.
“Relax, Schatz.” He purred. You looked up at him and gave him a nervous smile.
“I think I left my wallet in my room. Do I need it? Should I bring a gift?” You rambled.
König pulled your wallet out from his back pocket and handed it to you. He shook his head and gave you a small smile. His sniper hood was hanging haphazardly over a dining room chair. He led you towards the door swiftly grabbing it and opening the door. You followed him out reluctantly.
The drive to the base was uneventful aside from your occasional worrying that was quelled by your alpha quickly. You can't help but feel more on edge than you usually would, but you can't put a finger on why. König pulled up to the massive, barbed wire-lined fence. A man in full military gear and a large gun strolled up to the window. You hadn't noticed that König out his hood in a while back. He rolled the window down and quickly flashed his ID to the soldier. The man nodded and waved his hand in the air. The gate slid open almost painfully slowly. König placed a hand on your thigh as he drove slowly through the base. It helped calm you for the time being.
There was a large building with a few dozen cars parked outside. König Parked the SUV rather haphazardly a good distance away from the entrance. When you opened the door you heard faint music coming from the building and lots of voices and laughter. Your alpha lapped the car and met you on the passenger side. You started to walk towards the door but he stopped you.
“What is the matter, Schatz?” His eyes softly gazed down at you.
“Nothing is wrong, I'm fine.” You said quickly.
“If you are uncomfortable, we can go.” He gently caressed your cheek., his scent enveloping your senses.
“I'm ok, I'm just a little nervous.” Deep down you knew something was off, but you were confident you could get through this night.
“Shcatz, You forgot your collar.” König said nonchalantly.
You gasped and your hand flew up to your neck covering your exposed scent glands.
“Oh no! Why didn't you tell me? Now I'm gonna stink up a storm in there.” You turned around embarrassed and even more on edge.
Your Alpha said nothing, he simply opened the back door of the car and pulled out a small black bag before closing the door. He spun you around by the waist to face him waving the bag in front of you. You glanced at him unsure before taking the bag. König gave you a small nod waiting for you to open it. Inside was a large square jewelry box. When you opened it it held the most beautiful gold metal collar. The one you looked at from the boutique a while ago.
“König....” You truly didn't know what to say. Tears pricked your eyes but you quickly wiped them away and replaced them with a smile.
“Thank you, Alpha.” You said while wrapping your arms around his middle.
He held you close and kissed the top of your head through his hood gently. He pulled away and took the collar out of its box. He clasped it around your neck locking it with the provided key. It fit perfectly, you could barely tell it was there. König held the small key out for you to take but you shook your head.
“Keep it safe for me Alpha.” You said giving him a warm smile.
Although you couldn't see his face, you could tell he was happy you trusted him with the key. König held out his elbow for you to hold and led you towards the event. You were still nervous but you brushed it off, you had someone there to protect you. The large hall was buzzing with conversation. Most people were sitting around in large groups having conversations and others were at the bar. There were string lights hung all around the ceiling giving the place a relaxing atmosphere. König led you to the bar eager to get a drink. Parties are not you or your Alpha's natural element.
He ordered a beer for himself and a gin and tonic for you. As you waited you glanced around taking in the different people. You were probably one of the very few omegas. You could tell who was military and who wasn't very easily. Some were still in uniform, others wore masks or dog tags. Some soldiers brought a plus one but it was a minority. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. You turned to see a familiar mohawk.
“Hey! There they are!” Soap exclaimed pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You could smell the alcohol on him.
“Hey, soap.” You eked out while being squeezed.
Soap turned to König and gave the large Apex a hug as well. König grunted, a little uncomfortable with the contact but patted his back affectionately.
“We've been waiting for you two to get here, everyone wants to meet the Colonel's Mrs.” His Scottish accent was thick and slightly slurred.
The bartender set your drinks down and you quickly scooped yours up and took a sip. Soap led both of you away toward a group of men. You lingered behind König slightly allowing him to greet the group first. Soap announced your name loudly sparing König of the burden. You waved shyly giving everyone a small smile. Everyone greeted you and your Alpha before returning to the conversation they were having. You were grateful the attention on you didn't last as you could sip your cocktail and listen to the drunken ramblings of the soldiers.
As the night dragged on, you met various people. You chatted with Ghost a bit and met Captain Price, as well as Gaz. Though the drunker people go the more rowdy things become. You sat on a chair near the group, only on your second drink. Your Alpha was loosening up after four. Soap suggested they go out to the field and play football, challenging Ghost to a team match. The whole group along with some others from the party joined them outside. König glanced over at you.
“Will you be ok if I join them?” He asked gingerly.
“Of course, go have fun.” You gave him a reassuring smile.
You watched him follow his coworkers out of the door into the frigid night. You decided to hang out at the bar as your drink was almost done. Although the night has been fine so far there was still something nagging in the back of your head. You plopped down on one of the bar stools and ordered another drink. Good thing this event had an open bar. You scrolled on your phone for a while not noticing how fast an hour has passed. An Alpha sat on the bar stool next to yours sighing loudly. You didn't bother acknowledging him as many people have sat there in the time that has passed.
“It's a nice night huh? Not too cold.” The guy said in a European accent you can't place.
You looked up from your phone. “Oh, are you talking to me?”
“Yeah, I am. So uh, are you a new recruit or?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Oh no, I'm just a visitor.” You glanced back at your phone hoping he would leave you alone.
“I've never seen an omega like you.”
“An omega like me?” You looked at him puzzled.
“Yeah, you're so exotic. I thought omegas like you have to stay in your own countries.” He said while taking a sip of his drink.
“Well, that's rude and extremely ignorant.” You scowled at him.
“Come on, it's a compliment. I mean I knew your kind your be spicy but damn.” He chuckled.
You took that as your cue to leave. And you stood up from the bar your felt a tug on the crown of your head.
“I mean, is this even your real hair?” He rubbed the hair he grabbed in between his fingers.
You ripped away from his grip. “What is wrong with you?! Don't touch me!” You yelled. Everyone at the bar turned to look in your direction.
“Relax, I'm just joking around.” The Alpha said trying to diffuse the situation.
“You don't touch a random person's hair, who raised you?!”
You felt a hand rest on your shoulder gently from behind. The Alpha you were confronting turned pale.
“Schatz? What did he do?” Your Alpha asked lowly.
You turned to face König anger still written all over your face. As angry as you were, you wanted this to be a teaching moment for this young Alpha. You turned back to the Alpha who was standing up now sweat forming on his face.
“Nothing Alpha, this guy just needs to watch where he's going, right?” You eyed him carefully.
“Yes! Yes, I'm very sorry miss.” He looked down at your feet.
You looked up at König who seemed unconvinced. He was staring daggers into the young Alpha. You saw König take a deep breath closing his eyes while doing so. When he opened them he looked down at you.
“Time to go, it's a long drive home.” He placed a hand on the small of your back and led you out.
Some people glanced in your direction as you left. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You hurried to the car in an effort to get out of the cold. König opened your door for you and helped you slide into the passenger seat.
“I forgot something inside, I'll be right back.” He said quickly shutting the door and storming back inside the building.
You couldn't tell if he was about to torture that soldier or not. But you did what you could, if he gets in trouble it's his own fault. König came back out no more than two minutes later. As he started the car, you got cozy relishing in the heated air.
“What did you forget?” You ask him.
“I had a project for Ghost, I had to tell him about it.”
“Hmm.” You responded, not buying it completely.
As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.
As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
König shook you awake gently. “We're home.”
You stirred and sat up stretching gently. You felt warm, a little too warm. Did you drink that much? You followed König into the apartment and kicked off your shoes at the door. That's when the cramp hit you. It was so painful it made you dizzy causing you to stumble. König caught you by the arm and ushered you to the couch.
“Schatz? You're burning up.” He laid you down and hurried to the kitchen.
You felt the sweat forming on your brow. Your heat had come early. You whined into the couch cushions trying to breathe through the dull achy pain. König brought some water and sat you up to drink.
“Why didn't you tell me your heat was coming?” he said concerned.
“Early...it came early.”
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#konig fluff#konig mw2#konig cod#konig x you#konig x reader#könig call of duty#könig fanfiction#könig#alpha könig x reader#alpha könig#alpha konig#alpha/beta/omega au#könig mw2#cod mwii#könig x reader#könig cod
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[part four] to build a home - gojo satoru
word count: 3.8k
warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting
series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.
series masterlist
[part four] : "Megumi and Tsumiki
___
To her luck, there was a public bench stationed just across the street from the address (y/n) had followed. So she was able to sit there and mindlessly scroll through her phone while she waited for any sign of the Fushiguro children.
It was nearing five o’clock, and school had long been out, she’d known because she’d just come from breaking into the empty building, so it was only a matter of time before there was some clue of this being the right house.
She could have approached it, peeked through windows, perhaps even tried to break in since getting into the elementary school had been so easy. But she figured it would look pretty suspicious to break into a house in broad daylight, especially if the kids caught her in the act.
It probably wouldn’t look too good if I was caught breaking into a house to spy on kids, she thought to herself. So in the end she opted to spy from across the street, at a much safer distance.
But the longer she waited, the more anxious she became. The battery on her phone was dwindling, the sun was starting to set, and to be honest she was getting a little hungry. She worried that she would run out of time, and she’d have to come back another day to try again.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she turned her phone off to save what little power it had left, and ran her clammy palms against her jeans.
Just as she was gearing herself up to abandon her investigation for the night, the front door opened.
She quickly turned her head, appearing to look down the street, while she kept her gaze on the house from the corner of her eye.
Megumi, the little boy, stood there, and after a few seconds, his sister, Tsumiki, also appeared.
(y/n) bit her lip to keep her smile hidden. She’d found them. After months, she’d finally found them.
She couldn’t help herself from returning her gaze to where the pair stood at the doorway, only to find them running across the street, towards where she sat. Anxiously, her head whipped in both directions to make sure no cars were coming- to her relief there weren’t- but she still stood to scold the pair as they approached.
“Don’t you know not to go running in the street!?” She asked them. “You could get very, very hurt!”
She hadn’t seen them so close yet. Last week when she’d seen them in an altercation with older kids, she’d been too far to get too good of a look at them, but now they were right before her.
While young, Megumi looked just like his father. She tried to keep her expression neutral, even as a painful, sinking feeling swallowed her gut.
“Why are you spying on our house?” The boy demands, his brows in a deep furrow and his hands on his hips.
She almost wanted to laugh at how adorable he looked.
“I was not spying on your house” She says with a nervous chuckle.
The young boy raises a brow, as though asking, really?
“Megumi, be nice” The girl next to him hissed, before looking up at (y/n) with a sweet smile.
“She’s a stranger!” Megumi hissed back.
(y/n) chuckled at the amusing pair.
“I don’t want to freak you out, or anything,” She tells them. “I… I know your dad”
She’s not sure if that was the right thing to say or not, but it was the only thing that she could come up with to make her a little less of a freak that was just stalking their house. They had every right to be scared of her, after all.
“Oh” Tsumiki’s smile faltered.
“Unfortunate for you” Megumi rolled his eyes.
Tsumiki smacks the back of his head, earning a glare from him.
“Yeah,” (y/n) agreed, letting out a breath. “Quite unfortunate”
The pouty kid eyes her up and down, regarding her agreement with a curious eye.
“Who are you, then?” He asks, albeit unsurely.
“I’m (y/n),” She responds, and crouches down to their level. “I suppose I already know your names,” She says, smiling between them. “Tsumiki… Megumi”
The little girl grins ear to ear.
“Dad told you about us?”
Megumi scoffs, rolling his eyes at his sister’s ridiculous sense of hope.
“More or less…” She trails off, trying to find where to draw the line of honesty and oversharing.
It seemed like these kids didn’t even know their father was dead… but she chalked that up to them barely knowing the man at all.
“I don’t know him very personally,” She decides to settle on a small truth. “But I know enough to know that you two shouldn’t be here all alone”
“We’re not alone,” Megumi deadpans. “We’re here together”
(y/n) gives him a small smile, finding his words sweet, even if he was still frowning.
“And that’s good,” (y/n) agrees. “I’m glad that you’re together, you’re safe together, and you should stay together,”
Megumi visibly relaxes a little before her. His shoulders slump down a bit, and his eyes soften. (y/n) can tell that the prospect of being taken away from Tsumiki is something that scares Megumi, just from this small interaction.
“I suppose that’s why I’m here,” She tells them. “I want to help, to make sure that you can stay together”
“That’s nice of you,” Tsumiki says, her elbow nudging into Megumi’s ribs. “See? Not everyone is a bad person” She chides.
Megumi shoves her elbow away.
“And what’re you going to do to help?” Megumi asks, still not sure he could trust her. “We don’t need money”
Tsumiki glares at her brother, but (y/n) speaks up before they could pick a fight with each other.
“Well, for starters, if you’re living here alone, you’ll need someone around to help you with adult things”
“You’re a teenager” Megumi’s brows furrowed again.
“I’m eighteen,” (y/n) shrugged her shoulders. “And I might be all you got,” She adds. “So when there’s a parent-teacher night at your school, or you need to pay a grown-up bill, that’s what I can be here for,” She explains. “I know you two are very grown up, and you’ve been very brave, taking care of yourselves,” She smiles warmly between them. “But it would do you some good to have someone looking out for you, alright?”
Tsumiki nods in agreement, seemingly happy with the arrangement. Megumi still looks unsure, but he’s not arguing anymore, so (y/n) took that as a good sign.
“If you’ll let me, of course,” (y/n) adds, looking at Megumi directly. “If you want me to leave you alone, I will. We can both pretend this never happened, and I’ll go home and you won’t ever see me again”
“No” Tsumiki frowns, shaking her head.
(y/n) smiles at her, and turns to Megumi.
“It’s up to the both of you,” She tells him. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”
Megumi looks over at his older sister, who’s giving him her best puppy dog eyes and pouty lip. He caves.
“Fine,” He says to (y/n). “You can help out”
(y/n) stands, ruffling up both of their hair, much to the young boy’s dismay.
“Alright then,” She says happily. “Have either of you eaten?”
Both kids shake their heads no.
“Is there any food in your pantry? I’m an excellent cook”
Standing in the kitchen of what was Toji Fushiguro’s home is odd. (y/n) finds herself examining every little thing that she passes. For two kids living alone for the last six and a half months, the house wasn’t in as much disarray as she was expecting. Although she does tell them the next time she comes by, she’s going to catch up on some chores that need doing. Dusting, vacuuming, but the house is otherwise kept tidy.
“Tsumiki cleans everything” Megumi says, sitting at the dinner table in the kitchen.
(y/n) smiles over at the girl.
“Good for you” She compliments.
“I just clean up the dishes and do the laundry,” She says bashfully, looking down at her hands in her lap. “I don’t really know how to do anything. I only know how to make mac and cheese”
“Well, mac and cheese is delicious,” (y/n) tells her. “But I can make anything you want with what’s here,” She says, looking back at the fairly stocked pantry.
Did these kids shop for themselves?
“So, what sounds good?” She asks.
Megumi and Tsumiki share a glance.
“Anything?” Megumi asks after a beat of silence.
“Sure,” (y/n) agrees. “Something in mind?”
A small smile finally shows up on his face.
“Do you know how to make french toast?” He asks, hopefully.
(y/n) laughs to herself, and nods her head eagerly.
“I do!” She says. “Breakfast for dinner it is!”
As she gathers the ingredients and supplies, she tries to make a mental note of where everything is in their kitchen. She wanted to get familiar quickly, so that she could establish herself as a regular figure in their lives.
She’s not sure what kind of figure that is, caretaker, she supposed, even though they’d done alright taking care of themselves all this time. She feels warm, and proud, that she’d finally found the elusive Fushiguro kids, and that they’d welcomed her into their home
She spends time getting to know them as she makes them their dinner. She learns that Megumi is eight, and Tsumiki is almost ten. (y/n) excitedly told her that they’d have to celebrate her upcoming birthday in a special way. Megumi wasn’t as open to sharing as his sister, but (y/n) didn’t mind. For now she’d take his age and that his favorite food right now was french toast, and that was enough.
He’s the one to ask her a question she wasn’t expecting once they all sat down to eat.
“You’re one of those sorcerers, aren’t you?”
(y/n) blinks, quickly trying to think through her answer. She knew that he was of age to know he had special abilities, so if she lied, she’d get caught in it later if he reveals he’d already known of his cursed technique. But she’s not sure telling the truth is a good idea, either.
With a sigh, she goes with her gut.
“Yes…” She says, slowly, still trying to find the right thing to say. “I am”
Megumi nods, stabbing a rather large bite of french toast onto his fork.
“Toji told us about them,” He says. (y/n) notes how he doesn’t call the man Dad, although she doesn’t blame him. “Are you a good one? Or a bad one?”
(y/n) chuckles, and her laughter seems to take Megumi by surprise, as his chewing slows and he waits for her answer.
“Well, I suppose I try my best to be good,” She tells him honestly. “But there’s not really such a thing as all good or all bad, is there?”
"Like yin and yang” Tsumiki says thoughtfully. (y/n) nods at her.
“Exactly,” She agrees. “Does that make sense?”
Megumi nods, swallowing his food, and goes back to being quiet.
He spends a long time thinking about what she said.
Once dinner is finished, (y/n) cleans up their plates and does some light organizing in the kitchen while the kids get ready to go to bed. She feels odd, knowing that she has to leave when they go to sleep. She doesn’t like the idea of leaving them here alone for the night, but tries to keep in mind that they’ve been doing it all this time.
They’re the most resilient people she’s ever met, for being eight and nine year-olds.
She checks her phone when she wraps up in the kitchen, and curses to herself at how late it was. It was almost nine o’clock. She’d have to get back to Jujutsu Tech soon.
She wanders over to the hall where she’d seen Megumi and Tsumiki disappear, and finds their bedrooms across from one another, both of their doors open. They’re settled into bed, Tsumiki cuddling a small plush tiger, and Megumi holding a book.
They look so comfortable, she thinks, and smiles to herself.
“You’ll both be okay if I go home now?” She asks.
“We don’t need to be tucked into bed, (y/n)” Megumi says dryly.
“Yeah, we’ll be okay” Tsumiki says sweetly from across the hall.
“Alright then,” (y/n) sighs. “I left my phone number on the table. If you ever need anything, call me, okay?”
“Okay” The little girl agreed.
Megumi only nodded.
“Goodnight. I’ll be back as soon as I can”
When she leaves, she pauses on the front steps of the house. Shutting her eyes, she brings her index and middle finger to her forehead.
“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure”
With that, she relaxes a little, knowing that no one with cruel intentions could step on the premises. They were safe for the night, and she could go home without the weight of paranoia now.
___
It’s dark outside when she steps foot through the gates of Jujutsu Tech. For anyone else, a walk home so late would have been unpleasant, but (y/n) hadn’t minded a little stargazing on her journey.
She’s smiling to herself, recalling fond moments with Tsumiki and Megumi, and is already eager to go back into town the first chance she could get to see them again. There was a lot she wanted to do, besides chores, she wanted to treat them to some new clothes, maybe toys, too.
She wanted to give them everything that they deserved, and even after a short introduction, she knew they deserved the world, and not the shitty hand they’d been dealt.
If Toji Fushiguro was still alive…
(y/n) shakes her head, pushing away the bitter thought. He was gone. His kids were safe. And she would keep a protective watch over them. As far as she was concerned, from here on out, they were her responsibility.
When she turned the corner to the hall where her dorm was, there was a figure waiting just outside her door. Curiously, she crossed her arms as she approached him.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Suguru?”
He smiles down at her, still leaning against her door. He wasn’t going to move until he got what he waited here for, and he’d been waiting there for some time now.
“How was your trip?” He asks.
The question sounds casual, but she has a feeling there’s a reason Geto Suguru would stand and wait at her dorm, rather than just text her whatever it was he wanted to say.
(y/n’s) face remains blank as she goes along with the act.
“It was nice,” She answered, reaching for the handle of her door. “Are you going to let me in?”
He responds by sliding his body in front of the handle before she could grab it.
“In just a minute,” He tells her. “You’ve been troubling Satoru” His words are bold, matter-of-fact.
She cocks her head to the side, feigning confusion.
“Troubling?” She repeats the word. “How so?”
Suguru raises a brow, pausing for a moment long enough to give her the chance to drop the act. She was certainly getting better at playing coy, but she was still a shit liar.
“Well, for starters, I think you hurt his feelings earlier,” He told her. “He was looking forward to some time with you away from here, you know”
She didn’t know that, but the guilt in her stomach started to claw it’s way around, bringing her great discomfort.
“Oh,” She hums. “I didn’t realize. I’ll make it up to him tomorrow-”
“He took another assignment,” Suguru cuts her off. “He’s leaving tomorrow. Probably gone for the week”
“Oh” (y/n) repeats again.
“Yeah,” Suguru sighs. “Oh,” (y/n) frowns back at him, unsure of what he wanted her to say or do. “Look, whatever it is you’re up to, just clue him in a little, alright?” Suguru asks.
Suguru knew she was up to something? She wondered, her eyes flickering over his features quickly, only to find that he didn’t seem to be interested in whatever it was. He’s not going to ask me about it?
“It’s freaking him out. And it’s making him…”
“Worried?” (y/n) mumbled guiltily.
“I was going to say obnoxious,” Geto chuckled. “But, yeah, he’s just worried about you”
“There’s nothing to worry about,” (y/n) shakes her head. “I’ve just been shopping around in town more”
Such a terrible liar, Suguru thinks, but he doesn’t press the issue. Whatever she was up to, wasn’t his business unless she wanted it to be. She could fend for herself just fine, so if she wanted to spend alone time in the city, then so be it.
Still, he was a little curious as to what it was that she was so adamant about hiding from them. Especially Satoru. If (y/n) was keeping a secret from him, she was going to have to be better about it, because he was going to sniff it out himself if she didn’t come clean.
Clicking his tongue, Suguru finally steps away from her door.
“I wasn’t trying to interrogate you, (y/n/n),” He tells her kindly, reaching out to place a hand on her arm. “I came here as a friend. To both of you. Really”
(y/n) nods back at him, believing him.
“Okay”
“That’s all. Goodnight, (y/n)”
She watches as he turns and wanders down the hall towards his own dorm.
“Goodnight” She mumbles, but he’s long out of earshot by the time she finds her voice.
It’s a near sleepless night for her.
___
The next morning, (y/n) makes a point to get up early to find Satoru before he took off on whatever assignment he’d taken for the week. After her talk with Suguru the night before, she felt like she should ease his nerves.
She also rarely saw him go, and he’s been taking so many missions lately, a part of her was worried it would be a mistake to not say goodbye. Just in case.
Not that anything would ever happen to him, he was the strongest, after all.
But still.
She finds him with a backpack thrown over his shoulder and a duffel bag in hand, heading towards the front doors.
“Satoru!” She calls, jogging to catch up with him
He turns around instantly, his features noticeably brighten upon seeing her. Had she been looking for him?
“Come to say goodbye in case I die?” He teases as she approaches. She rolls her eyes.
“Yeah right,” She snorted. “But I did come to say goodbye”
He grins, dropping his duffel to the ground. Her hair was messy, and she was still wearing her pajamas. The idea of (y/n) waking up and coming to find him first thing made his heart melt.
“Don’t you worry your pretty head about me,” He tells her. “I’m not dyin’ anytime soon”
She laughs, shaking her head at his insufferable need to make her blush. He almost always succeeded. As he did with most things he took a crack at.
“Well, good,” She replied. “I happen to not… totally hate having you around”
Satoru gasps, laying a hand over his chest dramatically.
“(y/n) (y/l/n),” He gasps. “Such a confession could knock a man out, you know”
She laughs at him, smacking his hand.
To her surprise, she succeeds. He must not have his infinity up right now.
Was it for her own satisfaction from hitting him, or did he always turn it off when she was around?
He laughs with her, enjoying her presence for just a few minutes longer before he had to go.
“And yet you’re still standing” She muses back at him.
“Ah, you only give me strength, sweetheart” He teases.
Her eyes are rolling. He’s smiling fondly.
Suddenly, he wants to tell Yaga to send someone else to Hong Kong to check out the mysterious murders. Maybe it would have been immature, but he had no problem saying suck it to the elders and hanging around here for a few more days.
“You’ve been taking on a lot of assignments,” (y/n) notes, dropping the playful mood for a more serious one. “If I didn’t know any better, I might think you were avoiding us”
“Avoiding you? Tch,” He chuckles. “I could never”
Despite her smile that she can’t seem to wipe off her face, she gives him a look.
“Satoru,” She chides, gently. “Really,”
It’s quiet, and he gives her a sad sort of smile.
“You’re not giving yourself much of a break,” She says. “Being the strongest doesn’t mean you always have to be out there, you know”
Her voice grows smaller as she speaks, almost unsure of saying something so bold. He didn’t exactly ask for her advice, and she didn’t love being vulnerable enough to make it clear that she worried about him when he was gone.
Behind his shades, his eyes search hers, finding the concern that she tried so hard to conceal. He reaches out, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as he pulls her against him, hugging her tightly to his chest.
“I’m just fine,” He tells her, resting his chin on the top of her head.
Sighing, (y/n) gives in, and slowly circles her arms around his waist, hugging him back.
She doesn’t think she’s ever hugged him before. He smells like mint, and something fresh, like clean laundry. Against her better judgment, her eyes flutter shut.
“I’ll be back soon,” He says. “And then we can get right back to perfecting that teleportation of yours”
He pulls away, grinning down at her, poking her nose affectionately. When she crinkles it and steps back from him, he chuckles.
“Alright,” She nods, wrapping her arms around herself absentmindedly. “Might want to be careful, though. Could surpass you one day”
Satoru picks up his duffel bag.
“I hope so,” He says, and it doesn’t sound like he’s messing with her. (y/n) raises a brow. Would he really give up his title of being the strongest so easily? “See you in a week, (y/n/n)” He waves, heading out of the building.
“Have a good trip” She calls, watching him go.
Why was her heart pounding so hard in her chest? He was always going on missions these days, would she really miss him this much?
She worries, as the door shuts behind him and he’s out of sight, that it might be so.
___
taglist: @whats-humanity-lol @malinq-ashida @mor-pheus @bekahtaylorgriggs @pookiea @megumimind @thealchemical @pearlstiare @niallerhere @96jnie @purpleguk @peqch-pie @yukinemaroop @strayreader @makis-girl @daisy-the-quake
xoxo - jordie
#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru fanfiction#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo imagine#satoru gojo fanfiction#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jjk imagine#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk fanfiction
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old fashioned
jim hopper x fem!reader. mentions of masturbation, sex toy use, dirty talk, praise, light degradation, implied age gap, period typical sexual ignorance??? ig?, “kid” as a petname
a/n: i haven’t written in so long this is ass i’m sorry. apologies for the glitchy repeating paragraphs, tumblr won’t let me fix them.
word count: 1.1k
When you pass through the doorway of your bedroom to see Hopper crouching by your bedside dresser, the bottom drawer pulled open, you stop on your tracks. Your blood runs cold, all your heat rushing to your cheeks. He turns his body to look at you, and things only get worse when you spot the bright pink rod in his hand.
“The hell is this for?” He scowls at it in his hand, as if staring hard enough might make the answer pop out at him. You nervously play with your fingers.
“The hell is this for?” He scowls at it in his hand, as if staring hard enough might make the answer pop out at him. You nervously play with your fingers.
“The hell is this for?” He scowls at it in his hand, as if staring hard enough might make the answer pop out at him. You nervously play with your fingers.
“Y-you really don’t know?” Your face steadily warms up as he passes you a dumbfounded glance. His thumb finds the button situated at the vibrator’s hard plastic base, and you cringe when it starts buzzing in his hand. There’s a brief pause, the gears turning in Hopper’s head, but after a moment he looks up at you with a faint smirk on his face.
“Actually, I think I might have an idea.” His smug expression and the low timbre of his voice makes your stomach flip excitedly. You swallow.
“Actually, I think I might have an idea.” His smug expression and the low timbre of his voice makes your stomach flip excitedly. You swallow.
“I can’t believe you’ve never seen a vibrator before.” Hopper rises to his full height and stalks towards you, his footsteps resounding in his heavy boots. He shrugs.
“Call me old fashioned.”
You let out a puff of air through your nose in a half-assed show of amusement. Hopper holds out the toy- still buzzing away in his palm- and raises a brow at you.
“So this is what you do when I’m not around, huh? You lay all sprawled out and pretty in your bed and use this on yourself?” Your cunt throbs, and all you can do is nod, averting your gaze.
“I didn’t take you for such a dirty little thing.” He murmurs lowly. You worry your lower lip, and he reaches out to cup your chin, thumbing over the soft cushion and pulling it out from between your teeth. You blink up at him, eyes wide, and his heavy gaze keeps you distracted, leading you to gasp when he brings the vibrator down between your legs. The sensation is muted, muffled by two layers of clothing, but its enough to make your clit tingle.
Hopper smirks. “That feel good, sweetheart?”
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Hopper’s hand moves down from your chin, smoothing across your throat and moving around to grip the back of your neck. The hold grounds you. “Good.” He nods behind him, motioning to your bed. “C’mon, I wanna see what else this thing can do.”
You look at him in shock for a moment. You’re not sure why, but part of you is surprised that he’s so accepting of your toy- that he isn’t angry or wounded, that he doesn’t feel threatened. You’d always imagined that, should a partner find your vibrator, there would be some long winded conversation assuring them that they aren’t inadequate. You suppose that Jim just isn’t that insecure.
While you were lost in your thoughts Hopper had backed you up towards the bed. You scramble to take off your shorts and underwear before climbing back onto the mattress. Hopper doesn’t bother to disrobe at all, he just crawls right up so he’s above you, leaning down to envelope you in a heated kiss. Your legs fall open automatically, well versed in this position, allowing his body to slot in between them.
You’re so caught up in his lips against yours that when cool plastic presses once again against your now bare clit, you yelp into his mouth. The buzzing sensation is intense without the barriers of fabric, and you can’t help the pleasured moan that you let out.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re never so quick to moan like that with me.” Again, he doesn’t sound accusatory- a bit teasing, sure, but the grin on his face tells you that more than anything he’s happy to see you so feeling so good.
He experiments a bit- tries different levels of pressure, noting the way you exhale with the reprieve of light contact and the way your toes curl with the intensity of firm force. He tries drawing circles on your clit the way he would with his finger, and that’s what makes you cry out the loudest, the steady rhythm dragging your body up towards the crest of release.
“There it is,” his low murmur heightens your arousal. “Getting close for me already, hon?”
“Yes,” through your mounting pleasure you suddenly feel a surge of doubt, a surge of need for something you don’t have. “Hopper- please, I want-“
“Easy, kid,” he soothes, smoothing a big hand across your shoulder, holding you down to the mattress when you lift up to grab at him desperately. He’s smiling smugly, and a bit of arrogance seeps into his comforting tone as he reads your desire perfectly. “Just let go. I’ll fuck you afterwards, don’t you worry. You can have my cock as soon as you show me how pretty you look when you cum.”
That’s all it takes to sate you; the assurance that if you finish now you won’t be left empty for the night. With that you’re allowing your body to fall right over the edge, your orgasm coming on hard and fast and so strong that you can’t even hear the loud moan that escapes you.
Hopper keeps the vibrator pressed against you as you tremble through it. Gentle encouragement spills freely from his lips, keeping his presence known even as your eyes squeeze shut. “That’s a good girl, sweetheart. There you go. Bet that feels good, doesn’t it? Fuck, look at you. Prettiest little thing ever.”
He pulls the toy away the moment your hips twitch away and your whines turn from blissed out to pitiful. You’re left panting, clit still throbbing, gaze blurry as you open your eyes and look up at Hopper’s smirking face.
“You back with me now, hon?” He asks gruffly, turning off the vibrator and tossing it aside then bringing his big hands down to knead at your limp thighs. “Goddamn, that thing does a number on you.” You nod, letting out a content hum.
“Still want your cock, though.”
Hopper laughs, shaking his head at your insistence. “I know, kid. I know.”
#hopper smut#jim hopper smut#jim hopper#hopper stranger things#stranger things#stranger things smut#stranger things fanfiction#jim hopper imagine#stranger things imagine#jim hopper x reader#jim hopper x you#jim hopper x y/n
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7Seals
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Chapter 6*
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•Previous Chapter: Chapter Five
•Next Chapter: Chapter Seven
• New chapters every Thursday
•Content: Levi Ackerman × OC female. Slow Burn! Canon verse!
• Word Count: 2.7k
• Warning: This content may not be suitable for all readers. If you've watched all of AOT then you will understand that the show handles heavy subjects such as abuse, racism, violence, and other heavy subjects. This fanfiction will also have the same heavy themes. Chapters with heavy themes will be marked with * at each chapter. This chapter contains themes of abuse. If this bothers you please do not read.
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78Fahrenheit (demo) - Ethel Cain
2:22 ─────━❍─ 1:25
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The wind whispered through my hair as I guided my ODM gear through the intricate patterns of the training course. My body moved with a dance-like grace, effortlessly slicing through the air to sever the napes of the practice dummies.
The past three days had been a relentless cycle of one-on-one training with Captain Levi. His focus? My ODM gear and nape-slicing skills. Not a word escaped his lips during these sessions; he merely observed, occasionally mirroring my movements with his gear.
"You're using too much gas," Levi's blunt comment reached me as I returned from a practice run, my body dripping with exhaustion. Collapsing to catch my breath, Levi's foot jabbed into my leg, a harsh reminder that rest was a luxury.
"Get up. I didn't say you could sit, brat," he grumbled, his impatience evident.
"You're making unnecessary movements with your gas. Release, then move."
"Are you trying to kill me?" I retorted, still catching my breath. Levi's response was curt.
"It's not impossible."
"Fine. I'll do another run," I conceded, my determination overshadowing the fatigue.
"No. We're finished for right now," Levi declared. "Take five, then meet me on the training fields. We're recruiting today."
His words hung in the air, and I didn't argue. The training had pushed me to my limits, bruises from the gear darkening every day. The ODM gear, a relentless companion, left my thighs raw and my legs trembling. Levi's challenges extended beyond physical strain; they tested my mental fortitude, an arena where I was already grappling with the mess left by Alexander.
The pain echoed not just in my body but in the foggy recesses of my mind. Mentally checked out, I wondered how much more my body could endure and whether the cloudy aftermath of Alexander's actions would ever lift.
Doubts lingered in the air as I took my short break, sweat clinging to my skin from the relentless training. The question haunted me: Was I truly good enough for a spot on a special operations squad, especially one led by someone as formidable as Levi?
My mind circled back to Alexander, the one who knew me best, my companion for the past six years. His silent presence loomed in my thoughts, and a nagging doubt crept in – perhaps he had been trying to protect me, knowing my strengths and weaknesses better than anyone. Maybe he was right; maybe I was too weak for Levi's squad.
Levi made me feel like a mere shadow in his presence. Every spar was a reminder of my incompetence. He urged me to pin him, a simple task, yet one I struggled with. I hadn't even secured a spot in the top ten of my class. So why did Levi choose me? What did Erwin see in me that warranted such a position?
Survival haunted my past, with Alexander by my side for the last six years. Did Erwin consider my mere survival a qualification? My thoughts spiraled, questioning why I had lived through the fall of Wall Maria. Levi's intervention had saved me, but why?
Wouldn't it have been simpler to let me perish? It would have spared everyone the trouble, and given Alexander a chance at happiness. My internal debate echoed with the possibility that perhaps I wasn't meant for Levi's special squad. My presence, a potential burden, could jeopardize him and the entire squad.
Training days blended into a haze of exhaustion, my body pushed beyond its limits. Bruises marked my skin like a roadmap of pain, a testament to Levi's relentless regimen. Mentally checked out from the mess with Alexander, my mind felt clouded, a storm brewing beneath a calm exterior.
The haunting question persisted: Why me? Why did Erwin and Levi see potential in someone who couldn't even pin their captain during sparring? A whisper of doubt insinuated that maybe I was a mere survivor, not a true Scout.
I just keep going in circles.
I questioned Levi's motives, Alexander's warnings, and my abilities. Was I destined for more than just survival?
As I reached the training fields, Levi's gaze met mine. Where was the emotion that lay behind those eyes? Inner turmoil gripped me, a symphony of conflicting emotions. Every move felt like a step closer to revealing my inadequacy.
"You're late." Levi's voice broke through my thoughts. "I said five minutes, not twenty."
"I lost track of time." I stumbled over my words.
"Save it." Levi groaned. "My office after dinner."
"Yes sir," I said to him as we walked towards the group's training.
The sun dipped lower, casting a golden hue over the training grounds. Levi's voice cut through the air, a command that echoed with authority.
"I need high ground." His groan spoke of a tactical mind at work, and without hesitation, he navigated the field, reaching the closest building.
With practiced ease, he utilized his ODM gear to ascend, his silhouette against the darkening sky. From my vantage point below, he seemed like a shadow, a silent observer seeking an advantage. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, scanned the training fields.
"Oi," his voice rang down at me, a summon I couldn't ignore. "What the hell are you waiting for? Get up here."
The dread settled in, knowing that the pain of using my ODM gear awaited, yet duty demanded my ascent.
With gritted teeth, I propelled myself upwards, each motion a reminder of the physical toll training had taken on me. When I reached the rooftop, Levi had already claimed his spot, his eyes fixed on the recruits below. The town sprawled beyond, a canvas painted in the hues of dusk.
"Wherever I go, you go," Levi declared his words a simple directive that held more weight than spoken. His gaze remained focused on the ongoing training, looking for potential new members of his squad.
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The world below unfolded like a patchwork quilt as we soared through the dense woods. The ODM gear granted us an exhilarating freedom, taking us to untouched corners of the training grounds. The rush of wind against my face, the feeling of power coursing through every movement—it was a sensation unlike any other.
"Guys! Stop!" Hange's voice echoed through the trees, halting our swift progress. Alexander, always the assertive one, zoomed past me, hooking into the trees ahead. "Get up here, Hange!" he called out, his words carrying a playful challenge.
"Yeah, Hange, stop being scared and come join us!" I added my teasing encouragement. Hange's reluctance toward the ODM gear was known, a fear born from a face-first landing during their first attempt.
"Our gear is supposed to be used for emergencies only on this exercise, remember?" Hange's voice drifted from below, a reminder of the rules we were supposed to follow. But rules were always meant to be bent, weren't they?
Following Alexander's echoed voice, I found him perched high on a sturdy branch. "Come here," he beckoned, and I ascended to join him.
"What's up?" I asked, settling onto the branch beside him. The scenery spread out below us, a sea of treetops and greenery.
"Enjoy the view with me," he suggested, and I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty surrounding us.
"It's beautiful," I commented, my gaze lost in the vastness of the woods.
"Yeah, but you're prettier," he said with a casual grin, a compliment that never failed to make my cheeks flush. His words, always laced with a charming boldness, echoed back to the first day we met at training camp.
"Wherever I go, you go. Okay?" Alexander's tone shifted his words carrying a weight of seriousness.
"I can't afford to lose you, Iris."
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The memory lingered, a snapshot of unspoken promises amid the rustling leaves. As I returned to the present, perched on a rooftop with Captain Levi, the echoes of those words whispered through the air, a reminder of something that once was.
"Are you done daydreaming?" Levi's baritone voice asked cutting through my thoughts.
"I-" I stumbled over my words but it was pointless.
"Do you see anyone from the squad below worth our time?"
"Oluo and Eld." I quickly said. "They work well together."
"Oluo doesn't take his training seriously. All he's done is talk." Levi observed. "Who's his captain?"
"Alexander."
I saw Levi's gaze in the corner of my eyes. It wasn't too kind but it wasn't angry either.
"Should have known, guessing Eld was on your old squad as well?"
"Yes sir. Oluo has fifteen solo kills and Eld has ten. Together they've had ten assists. They work really well together." I explained to him. "We have a lot of trust in each other."
"Trust?"
"Yeah, without trust, you're as good as dead," I muttered, avoiding Levi's eyes as my gaze lingered on the vast landscape below. His eyes, usually intense, now held a curiosity that felt like it delved into my very thoughts.
"What are you guys doing up there?" Alexander's voice snapped the fragile thread connecting us, and I turned my attention to the man with ash-brown hair, scowling up at us.
Levi and I exchanged a swift glance, a momentary understanding that vanished in the face of Alexander's intrusion.
I haven't seen Alexander in the last couple of days. The mess hall had been a lonely place without him, and the tension that lingered between us found no resolution in his avoidance.
"Recruiting," I responded, breaking the silence with words that carried more weight than he could fathom. The distance between us felt like an unspoken chasm, fueled by his baseless accusations.
"Well, recruit somewhere else. My squad's off-limits."
Alexander's words, delivered with a glare aimed directly at me, cut through the air like a knife. Levi, embodying an unexpected calm, stood up and gracefully descended from the roof, landing in front of Alexander.
"Problem, soldier?"
As they faced each other, I stood on the roof, caught between past accusations and an uncertain future.
"Yeah, there is. You're interrupting a training session with my squad," he snapped, his stern gaze fixed on Levi.
The towering figure of Alexander made Levi appear even smaller. Anyone could sense the tension and understanding that Alexander wasn't about to extend a warm welcome.
"Your soldiers lack discipline if being observed is a distraction."
Levi had a calm and confident demeanor that I know made Alexander mad. His words lingered in the air like the tension between them, prompting me to leap off the roof and join Levi on the ground. I could feel the squad converging, drama was the scouts favorite activity after all.
"Then that's more of a reason to move along and recruit elsewhere. My squad's off-limits."
"Nothing is off-limits for me. I have free rein to choose any member of the regiment, whether they want to join or not. Including you." Levi's assertive voice could be heard all around us.
"And who gave you such power?" Alexander questioned, his disbelief apparent.
"Commander Erwin. I'd love to chit-chat about meaningless shit all day, but I have a job to do."
With those words, Levi turned and walked away, leaving a stunned squad and a seething Alexander in his wake.
"Get back to training," Alexander bellowed at his squad, eyes lingering.
As Levi walked away, leaving Alexander fuming with frustration, the tension in the air lingered longer than it should have. I felt the weight of Alexander's disapproval as he turned his piercing gaze toward me.
He grabbed my wrist, leading me away from the unfolding drama. As we entered the nearby building, my thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the power dynamics shifting within the regiment.
What have I gotten myself into? The clash between these two is like a storm, and I'm standing in the middle of it.
Alexander's grip on my wrist tightened as he led me away from the gathering crowd. The building's interior enveloped us, shielding our conversation from prying eyes.
"Explain yourself, Iris," Alexander demanded, his voice low and harsh.
I struggled to find the right words, torn between defending Levi's actions and pacifying Alexander's evident anger. This is a delicate dance, and one wrong step could lead to more trouble.
"He's just doing his job, Alexander. Recruiting for the Special Ops," I offered cautiously.
Alexander's scowl deepened.
"And you think that gives him the right to disrupt my training session? To challenge the authority of my squad?"
I bit my lip, contemplating my response. How do I make him understand without making things worse?
"He's persistent, but it doesn't mean he disrespects you or your squad. He sees potential, that's all," I tried to reason, trying to choose my words wisely.
Alexander's eyes bore into mine, searching for sincerity. "Potential or not, this isn't the way to go about it. We have rules, and he can't just waltz in and disregard them."
"Just trust Erwin. He knows what he's doing." I said trying to calm his nerves.
The room hung heavy with tension, a suffocating silence enveloping us. I turned to face Alexander, uncertainty clawing at my insides. His gaze, cold and unforgiving, pierced through me like a blade. The air was filled with unspoken words, and I felt my stomach plummet into an abyss of dread.
Before I could comprehend the storm about to erupt, my body stumbled backward, colliding with the sturdy desk behind me. Panic surged as I braced myself, my trembling hands reaching out to steady the chaos within me. The echo of the impending storm reverberated through the room, drowning out any semblance of peace.
A sharp contact against the right side of my face sent shockwaves through my senses. I winced, instinctively cradling the stinging pain. The heavy breathing in the room intertwined with the shiver that ran down my spine. The sting of tears welled up, soothing the physical ache but doing nothing to quell the storm raging within.
"Who do you think you are?"
Alexander's voice cut through the silence, each word a lash against my already battered composure. He advanced, a looming presence that seized control of the room. His hand found a fistful of my hair, yanking me mercilessly closer to him. I bit back a cry, my eyes locked with his, a silent plea for mercy.
"Do you think I'm fucking dumb?"
His words lashed out like a whip, each syllable seething with anger. His grip on the back of my head tightened, and I felt the world tilt under the force of his rage.
"Answer me."
His demand hung in the air, a command that brooked no disobedience. I swallowed hard, my voice a fragile whisper in the charged atmosphere.
"No."
The tears streamed down, tracing a path of despair on my cheeks. His eyes bore into the raw vulnerability laid bare before him. My body was locked in the vice of his anger, and I braced myself for the tumultuous storm. His words sliced through the room, anger boiling beneath the surface.
"Tell that captain of yours to stay the fuck away from our squad."
Another demand hung in the air, a venomous command that echoed in the silence. I nodded, a silent acknowledgment, but it was never enough. His fist collided with my face, a burst of pain and frustration.
"When I ask you something, you answer. Got it?" His voice was a relentless storm, demanding compliance.
"Yes," I whispered, the word hanging in the charged atmosphere.
"Do you understand what's going to happen if you don't listen to me?" His question sent shivers down my spine, and my voice trembled as I replied,
"Yes."
The weight of his expectations bore down on me, and I felt the vulnerability in my compliance.
"Good. Now come here," he said, lifting me off the floor and holding me close. His touch was a paradox of comfort and pain, his hand gentle in my hair as he cradled me. I felt his lips press against the very spot his fist had struck moments ago.
"Please listen, Iris. I do this because I love you." His words were a desperate plea, a conflicted confession that hung in the air. He squeezed me one last time before releasing his hold, his departure leaving an emptiness in the room. He didn't look back, and the silence that followed echoed with the weight of unspoken struggles. I was left standing, all alone in the dark training room while the day still passed on.
It wasn't the first time he hit me.
━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━
Authors Note:
Abuse is never to be romanticized. This is to spread awareness and help others cope in different outlets. You are not alone.
For more help:
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233
Text START to 88788
You are not alone.
━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━
#levi ackerman#levi x you#captain levi#aot x reader#attack on titan#levi aot#aot#levi attack on titan#snk levi#levi x reader#shingeki no kyojin#levi ackerman x reader#levi angst#levi#snk
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Fellas is it gay to travel together to a dude's homeland
To see the story drabbles the prev part is here (all tagged under "#Hunter and the Mask Verse Story") Yone design ref for this verse can be seen in detail here
Again story rambles under the cut lol
Their travel from Navori to Bel'zhun was uneventful, the worst thing being Yone's initial seasickness at the start of the trip. Despite that Yone was quite thrilled to see the world outside of Ionia. He often wondered if this was what his brother had seen years before their last encounter. It waa also nice that K'sante recalled a few of the things he had seen in these stops (a day in Bilgewater, three days in Piltover/Zaun), so it was not a wild whirlwind of him getting lost or stranded in strange lands.
The other man grounded him, made him feel...safe. The feeling reminded Yone of how he felt at home back in his more innocent childhood days, just a little.
As they finally reached Bel'zhun, K'sante eagerly brought Yone up on deck so both could see the Shurima harbor city coming closer and closer. Unlike the elegantly branching city of Navori (Ionia being famed for melding with their arboreal environment), Bel'zhun had a different kind of structural beauty carved from the harsh wind and sand.
"We still got a long ways to go before reaching Nazumah, but welcome to my homeland!"
Yone smiled. The morning heat was overwhelming and the lack of spiritual energy, a presence taken for granted in Ionia, was very different but not unwelcome. This was the lands that shaped K'sante, and he did join him because he wanted to know more.
In Bel'zhun, they take a few days to prepare for travel. K'sante even takes Yone to a bazaar where he sees a Nazumah cloth merchant selling their wares. There he buys Yone a travel cloak as a gift. Yone immediately wears it, feeling less out-of-place in his Ionian garb. He noted that the cloak's weight was heavy enough so it would not be blown too easily away by the strong desert wind and gave him decent protection from the sun. It was also...much thicker than what he expected for desert wear. Werent they supposed to be lighter to be cooler? In fact, K'sante kept wearing his thick gear even in the heat...
"Wouldn't your clothes be a hindrance while we travel out through the desert?"
K'sante laughs.
"Daylight is ideal for short hunts and trips. Longwr travel is done when the sun is low. Trust me, the desert isn't all heat."
Yone inwardly chastises himself for assuming, and nods.
After their prep, the two set off to the southwest with several other travelers going in and out through Bel'zhun for various businesses. And just as K'sante said, the desert certainly was much colder at night...and the cloak was perfect in keeping Yone warm. By day they would take shelter in the shade produced by the ruins or crags of rock that stuck out in the dunes. All were apparently remains of ancient wars and civilizations, according to K'sante.
It was hard work trekking the desert. For Yone, the best part of traveling was around dawn, when the sun would rise and they would settle for the day. No matter how tired the two were, K'sante would talk about some folk tale or a story he had related to the area they were at. He was very expressive during these moments, pointing out to the skies, the landmarks, or just making gestures to emphasize his narration. Regardless of what he did, Yone would listen, and quietly place his hand over the other man's own whenever K'sante used it to bring Yone closer to him. This often happened when his storytelling got intense. Initially K'sante would apologize about it, but over time the two didn't even bring it up.
After all, they felt like they belonged, being together like this under the vast sky as life went on around them.
#k'sante#yone#yosante#hunter and the mask verse#Hunter and the Mask verse story#kyleeart#league of legends#k'yone
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I'll ask for a piece of writing featuring Sky, please!
Wind looked a little too cheerful for the situation, but then again, he usually did. “I can’t say it’s comfortable, but really, I’m fine. In fact, I’m so fine that I’m bored.”
Sky cracked a little smile at that. Leave it to Wind.
“Oh, no,” Legend muttered. “Anything but a bored Wind.”
Wind turned onto his back. He took a deep breath.
And started singing. Loudly.
“‘Twas heard about in ports all down the archipelago! Ho! A thousand and two hearty men, a-whaling-fore to go-ooooo… Blow ye winds in the mornin’, blow ye winds hi-ho! Clear away the running gear, and blow ye winds hi-hoooooo!”
Around three verses in, Wind paused for a split second to add in, “Wow, I really expected someone to stop me by now—” before continuing.
Sky’s smile grew. He joined in on the next chorus, and Wind added an extra, excited “hi-ho!” in there somewhere. He had no idea what the song was about, but it sounded somewhat threatening and very peppy, pretty on-brand for Wind’s endless repertoire of sailor songs.
I created this document September 2022, it is a bit over 18k long, and nobody is ever gonna read it in its entirety. XD
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Every one here needs to go listen to the ‘At All Cost Demo” because it is so Zolu coded I can’t.
The only problem I have is which character gets which verse belongs to which character. Because these two are so crazy devoted to each other it’s wild.
The first verse goes
Is this Zoro reflecting on his captain? That line about someone being tangible happiness is so Luffy. And Zoro was lost before he met his captain. He had no direction on how to get to his dream. Until his rubber boy bounds into his life and sweeps him up into his adventure. This wind pulling Zoro along, pushing him forward. Giving Zoro a feeling of belong and home. His captain is a wonder that people search for all of their lives.
Or is it Luffy. Zoro is his first mate. The first person to join his crew, to make his dream of being the pirate king a reality. Zoro’s friendship and support have to bring joy to Luffy. He’s always praising his swordsman telling everyone how amazing he is.
Then you have the second verse
And on one hand it’s so Zoro, especially Thriller bark. Because Zoro fought for Luffy in a way Luffy could never imagine. He never wants his captain to know what he was willing to sacrifices that day. But everything he does is for the hope that he can stay right by his captain
On the flip it could be Luffy. Especially Skypia “how could this happen when you (Zoro) were here?” Luffy can’t imagine Zoro losing, can’t imagine him getting hurt. Luffy also fights in ways Zoro doesn’t know to protect the crew. (Does the crew ever find out that gears 2 and 3 shorten Luffy’s life span when he uses them (Enies Lobby) or what he went through in Impel Down?)
They both hit the second verse so hard like I can’t with these two fools.
The you have the bridge.
Swearing to find the other when ever they are lost you can’t tell me that isn’t Luffy guiding Zoro
Followed immediately by a line about swimming and ocean to be beside the other. Like Zoro has tried and will try again for Luffy.
And this isn’t even touching the refrain. Like just go and listen to it and see my vision.
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The house was quiet when Joel got home, the only noise he could hear being the slight shuffle of trees outside the cracked windows, the setting sun forming streams of light on the unoccupied couch. Blankets were strewn across the back, almost like someone had been laying there.
He laid down his backpack, gently setting the rifle next to it. “Ellie?” He called, surprised that she didn’t come running up to greet him. She was always there to see him when he came home, talking a mile a minute as she told him about whatever things she’d done that day.
But by the looks of the house, today was different, today was silent, peaceful.
He walked gently throughout the house, smiling at the sound of the birds chirping outside. It was an overcast day, rain coming down every now and again to form this little halo of safety around their home. It was a feeling he never thought he’d see again, and yet here he was.
Sighing contently he made his way to Ellie’s room, surprised when he didn’t see her curled up at her desk drawing or laying in her bed reading. Closing her door he walked to his study, and the door was wide open and vacant there to.
He sighed, smiling when the gears began to turn.
There was only one place left she could be, and it made his entire heart melt when he caught sight of it. There on his bed was his little girl, curled up beneath a blanket with the guitar laying next to her, windows wide open so she could hear the rain. He took a minute to dwell in this, capturing the entire scene with his eyes and locking it so tight in his brain that he could never ever forget it.
He watched for a moment longer before following through with what he knew she’d wanted. Even if she was asleep she still liked him to do it, it calmed her, made her feel at complete and total ease, and so of course, he did it.
He took off his boots, grabbing the sixth string and sitting down on his side of the bed where she was, his back to the night stand.
Ever so gently he began to play, fingers moving with muscle memory as he watched her chest rise and fall.
‘If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself’
‘Everything I have found dear, I’ve not found by myself’
She shuffled slightly, leaning closer at the sound of his voice.
‘Try and sometimes you’ll succeed, to make this man of me, all my stolen missin parts, I’ve no need for anymore’
Her hand reached out for him, resting against his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but to lean into her touch, placing a kiss on her knuckles before continuing.
‘And I believe, and I believe, cause I can see, our future days’
‘Days of El and me.’
A small smile coated her features at the sound of her name, and he watched them relax again as he continued to sing, closing his eyes as the wind blew against his cheeks.
These were the moments he lived for.
Moments where it was just him and his baby, the only thing filling the silence being the unspoken ‘I love you’s’ that were said with every verse of their song.
And he thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, one day he’d find the courage to say it again. Because he did love her, sometimes he was just scared of how much.
#ellie williams#joel and ellie#joel miller#the last of us#tlou#I don’t know what’s gotten into me today#but Joel and Ellie fluff is all I can think about
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thinking about vampire luffy
idk how many of ya'll have read noblesse but the idea of luffy being the protector of vampires/nobles.
it'd translate the whole conquers haki really well and him not caring about the politics of vampire society. his power is hardly ever needed given how strong vampires are.
🤔 might follow the story of noblesse a lil and luffy went missing for 800 some years, the families having no idea what happened to him. then he just pops back up not really remembering why he needed to sleep for so long (probs ace's death).
I have a bunch of personal vampire lore I might apply to this verse too
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Target Practice
Nock. Raise. Draw. Anchor. Aim. Still. Release.
Nock. Raise. Draw. Anchor. Aim. Still. Release.
Over and over the porcelain figure went through the motions, sending arrow after arrow downrange. As the wind shifted with each shot, her clockwork whirred in adjustment.「Range: 150 meters. Wind: 3 meter per second increase in velocity, angle consistent. Aim: 1 degree, 7 minute adjustment left.」 the doll computed.
Nock. Raise. Draw. Anchor. Aim. Still. Release.
It was an obscene distance for most archers to use for practice. The smallest error in the shot process would be so magnified that nothing useful could be gleaned from the result, yet this is what the doll needed to refine herself; machine perfection driven nigh to its limits.
Despite the incredible distance between her and her target, a decent grouping was forming, the likes of which any being of flesh would think impossible. For those versed in the body language of dolls though, it was obvious to see how perturbed and unsatisfied the archer was.
Her form looked the picture of perfection. Not a wasted movement. Not overdrawn or overlong. A consistent, steady anchor position. But the bow shook a hair’s breadth in her hands. She ratcheted the wrong cog too far to reach full draw. She clicked more noisily than spec on release.
Her Witch watched from afar, noting those invisible signs. She had thought to leave her doll alone, let her work out her feelings by herself. That was several hours ago. It was clear she needed to intervene. Rising from her seat, she winced, before making her way to the range. Too absorbed in the shot process, the doll didn't even notice as her Witch approached. Nock. Raise. Draw. Anchor. Aim. Still. Release. Between shots, the Witch made her move.
Taking hold of the bow and arrow, the Witch wrapped her hands over her doll's. Like a dance teacher correcting their student, the Witch pushed herself flush with her doll's backside so she could guide her every move, exhaling painfully as she did so.
"M-Madame, you should be resti—" the doll attempted to exclaim.
"Shhh. You're wound too tight, doll," the Witch replied. "Come now. Loosen up. Two clicks."
"But your stit—"
"I don't remember allowing you that much autonomy. Quiet yourself and do as I command."
Giving in, an audible click emanated from inside the doll's chassis followed by a second. Immediately the tension in the hand gripping the bow loosened. "Better. Now draw. Together."
The Witch initiated, dragging her doll's dominant hand to the quiver at her side before the doll gave in and followed along. Two hands reached for the arrow, nocking it to the string. Two arms raised the bow to the proper position. Two beings pulled the bow to full draw. As the doll ticked that one gear too far, the Witch called her out.
"No. Stop. That's a suboptimal tension distribution. Unwind one tick and rewind using your mainspring."
There was a whirring sound as strings and cogs redistributed force, the doll standing taller as they did.
The Witch released her grip from the doll's weapon, instead lightly embracing her from behind. Her lips but an inch from her doll's audio processors, she said, "Good. Now, you have it from here. Do me proud."
Finding her anchor, the doll took sight at the target downrange. Once she found her mark, she stopped, letting Stillness take her for a moment. Releasing the tension from her fingers, she let the arrow fly. Not a noise could be heard except the sound of the arrow whizzing by.
The doll knew it even as the arrow left the string. It sailed across the landscape, over the hill between her and the backstop. Wind pulled the arrow ever further on course. The back spiraled and spiraled as it flew until it found home. Bullseye.
"Satisfied now? Can we call it quits?"
The doll stared at the arrow. Exactly where she had meant to place it. Exactly where she should have placed it the first time. Exactly where she would place it next time.
"Yes, Madame. This one is satisfied," she responded.
"Good. Because I need a strong pot of tea after the day we've had. Maybe two... Come along now, dear."
As the Witch began the trek back to their cottage, the doll looked to the bandage covering her Witch's thigh. It was sure to scar. A permanent reminder of her failure today in her charge. Yes. Next time, she'd put the arrow exactly where she meant to place it.
End 🧵
(Old story reposted from Twitter)
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...What time is it...? It's time to slowly clear out Dess's massively over-stuffed inbox with another LIGHTNING ROUND!
> both does and doesn't survive
Oooh, that choice of words!! /pos
> a refusal to stop just because the story says its finished
And ahhhh, this too!! /pos
...Okay, wow, I need to draw more Beast Pack now... (Sorry, I wish I had a more intelligent response than that but I daresay you already laid claim to the most brilliant words!)
--
Hello hello! As a fan of the show Firefly back in the day, I APPROVE OF GALACTIC WILD WESTS!
But no, this is really smart! Most of the people who come to Popstar could be easily categorized as shipwrecked or refugees of some kind. People from the "greater" more modernized galaxy winding up on a backwoods-y planet. (And I think it's been described that way in certain works. Or implied?)
Depending upon how you take the Floralia situation, Popstar could be a bit like Australia or some other small island callously "claimed" by the British Empire. Outside of a few places like Butter Building (and even that is a maybe) most of its locales seem to be places that are still standing from ancient history. Not a lot has been done with it from this generation of Popstarians. It's frontier-land.
Also, Max as a robber-baron is a A+++ idea! This all reminds me of how in my expanded Dreamy Gear concept, I made the HWC one of those shady AF age of expansion railway companies! It just feels very in tune with the way the HWC was doing things! (Under the table and independent of any galactic authority, to be certain!)
--
As far as that particular puffed up depiction of Dedede goes, I can see it too, tbh! ...Nyeh. XD
Pardon my YGO Abridged reference.
--
I have to admit, I haven't read every novel in-depth, but Takase-sensei is getting a lot closer to my own views of Kirby + Kirby-verse here. I feel like the Planet Robobot novel might be the last one of hers where I really appreciated the specific take she took with things!
(Btw, I wonder if we'll get a third novel this year? I still don't think a Mago Epilogue novel is coming just because no Meta Knight XD but I'm curious what other story she might cook up now...!)
--
I think it's a great thing to think about! Just like HAL and Kumazaki love to dump lore in the most obscure places, I think we're meant to think about these things! Enjoy going in depth on them!
Now, I think I lean towards a more emotionally balanced Taranza, even while seeing him as someone in mourning. I've of course laughed at the various crying/distraught reactions people have given him (which are all really funny!) but I also think that maybe he'd be someone to take it more as what it is - a tribute?
(At least, I don't think Magolor means it negatively. I'm not 100% on that, because he DOES like to play tricks on people. But I also have a personal HC that he learned about Halcandra and the Lor/Master Crown during time he spent with the spiders so I don't think he'd do that to Taranza to be mean. Maybe Magolor never reached the stage of being "friends" with Taranza and Sectonia, friendless wizard that he is, but I think he liked them, potentially?)
So, I think Taranza would be touched by the mask (he MIGHT cry though) and the way it is labeled. It's subtle. It doesn't flaunt the fact that Taranza never got his feelings across to his beloved. Nor does it disrespectfully rewrite history as if he had.
I think Susie is also able to have a fairly calm (?) or at least highly restrained reaction to seeing her father's visage. But again, I like the concept that she might mock-threaten to sue Magolor too!
If Magolor DIDN'T get contracted by Susie to make that Weekend Outfit Susie mask and instead made it himself based on observations of her in his trip through the timelines, now THAT would get him in some serious hot water for sure! (But she probably would compliment him on how she looks appropriately cute in it.)
...Daroach would have something quippy to say, I would feel. Probably something a li~ttle prickly about how it's funny he doesn't see a mask depicting MAGOLOR's time under the possession of an evil artifact!
Magolor: "......"
I suppose Marx's reactions to a mask of his soul form depend entirely on where you place Marx on the "more intelligent than he looks" slider. If he's just a silly little guy, then Magolor just made a palette swap mask of him and that's funny!
If he's actually very, very SMART then he would say the same thing as before - on the surface. And then he and Magolor would have a very serious talk about things. In private.
(I, of course, love a Marx who is exceptionally magically inclined. Possibly more attuned to magic than a non-Master Crown empowered Magolor. And he might be able to recognize just from a glance what exactly is "going on" in the Marx Soul mask - certainly from the invocation of "Soul" in the name. Namely, that Magolor saw something HE SHOULDN'T.)
Coo: "...Why am I gray??"
And I agree that Kirby would love the different colored Kirbys and probably made all the Dream Team try them on!
PS: I would love to write/draw/read/see more depictions of the others enjoying Merry Magoland! It's such untapped ground!
--
I did, in fact, post my treatment for my best attempt at coming up with an entry-evel Kirby movie with plenty of easter eggs back in this post! I'm not... 100% satisfied with it, as it's so heavily and clearly an ADAPTATION smooshing several plots into one.
But I did what I could with the idea of trying to cram as many games and major characters into three movies as possible while sticking with Kirby = Friendship as a major theme.
To be honest, I'm more in love with the plot concept I teased for the "second movie," that combines Squeak Squad and Triple Deluxe and RtDL together and pits Kirby and the gang against the Squeaks against Magolor and Taranza against Sectonia against Traitor Magolor in a wacky mystery of mistaken motives!
I think the "thief vs thief" and "royalty vs wannabe royalty" aspects make the characters from that game mesh together a little better than trying to speedrun the Dark Matter Saga + Marx in one movie.
But lets answer some of the rest of this, shall we? ...If you go back enough years, I would have liked to see a Kirby movie done entirely in 2D, but even the old anime series recognized it was easier to keep Kirby on model if he were 3D. So nowadays, it would have to be 3D.
I don't expect it would go for a particular visual style, ala Spiderverse or Puss in Boots. I really think it would look like your average Disney/Pixar/Illumination "clean" CG movie....
But it would be fun if they tried for a more impactful style! Something heavily cell-shaded, perhaps? I love the aesthetics of Epic Yarn and Rainbow Curse, so while a movie might not be the place to get super experimental, I wouldn't mind them trying!
Mario has proven that you don't need to massively twist the characters into the Hollywood "cartoon" model to be successful so I think Kirby could lean more toward a "faithful" depiction.
That said, while -I- personally would do everything possible to work in as many references as possible if I were put in charge, the sad truth is, I never would be, and so I expect a Kirby movie would be a little vanilla in its plot. A "Kirby vs King Dedede only oops, Dark Matter/Nightmare is really behind things!" story?
I wouldn't necessarily expect to see the Animal Friends or Adeleine or Gooey in it. Maybe Marx, given he's popular. (But I don't expect a massively nuanced take on him. ^^; )
...I'd go see it though, either way!
--
Oho!
This is a pretty interesting concept because Elfilin is not really anything resembling a combatant. Then again, Adeleine isn't much of one either...
Because Adeleine takes a lot from the Artist copy ability (and the same can be said for other Dream Friends who call back to certain movesets) I think I would continue along that path and base Elfilin at least partly on the ESP copy ability.
Elfilin would have a few unique attack moves, based on the use of their tail, probably. Little excited, flicky movements! As well as moves based around their ability to make portals/rifts!
They might be able to use weaker versions of Fecto Elfilis's moves including a softer version of Elfilis' Antares spear? (Probably made of light or a phantasmal version, rather than just a miniaturized version of it XD ) And of course, every X number of times you use the move that summons objects from a dimensional rift, a miniature Big Rig falls out and rams into something! XD
--
...Anon...
How you tempt me...
.
Our setting is a dimly-lit smoky bar. A woman with thick hair covering one of her ruby eyes and with warm, earthy skin leans in, her gold jewelry flashing, her dress sinking past her feet.
“The others call me...'clingy.' Said I don’t know how to let go.”
Her partner, an older gentleman with plenty of blond left in his slicked back hair and a surprisingly attractive squint shuts his pocket watch and smiles a cat-like smile at her.
“Misty, you know my only purpose in life is to grant your wish.”
.
May you all be damned with that visual as I have been!
--
If I don't say this enough, I have received so much support from this fandom and I'm just so very grateful to all of you.
I hope all of you are receiving the love and care you deserve as well for being such creative, kind, patient, understanding people...!
#Kirby#Elfilin#Galactic Nova x Mistilteinn#...and a bunch of others I'm too tired to tag ^^;#Dess daydreams about being hired to adapt Kirby again#...It's fine. I'm sure doing it officially comes with a bunch of red tape and rules. I'm happy just drawing my HC and such#But every now and then... I start to imagine 'what if...?'#Dess Answers Questions
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emo meow meow wet cat ghost green wannabean
hiiii alo this definitely didn't take me twelve years. nope. i answered this the moment it was aksed
ANYWAYS YIIIIIPPPEEEEE THE GHOST GUY
hes so emo and wet cat core. man goes "I CONTROL THE WIIINNNDDD" and like. fails at climbing a mountain or smth hes so funny TOT
this is less of a thing and more of a moment but. WHY DID HE SIT IN SOME BONE CHAIR WITH TEETH IN IT THAT ONE TIME. WHY WAS HE DOING THAT. he thought he was SO cool. imo he looked like a little kid that just got permission to sit at the adults table he looked so SILLY.
WHERE DID HE EVEN GET THE BONES........ morro u look so stupid rn please stop.
3. "auto...graph...?" seeing morro not understand modern technology will never not be funny to me. this man got hit with a GRENADE and he STARED AT IT FOR THREE MINUTES BEFORE THINKING "oh this explooooodddeeeess" AND THROWING IT BACK.
4. umm uhhh destiny duo, green cousins or ghost duo. im indecisive.
5. uuuhhhhh, i mean i dont really ship him w/ anyone + i think it might be a hot topic b/c of his age?? idk
6. UUUHHHHHH. barring any of the obvious ones? i lowkey dont really get citrus shipping ;-;
7. this is more of a silly thought i had than a real headcanon, but i think that Morro spent a lot of time training and preparing to take on the green ninja and take his place. and he had to be well versed in a lot of skills.
cue morro saying "i MUST defeat the green ninja" to the preeminent then, with the most serious expression ever, pulling out a tuba and playing it perfectly.
SORRY THIS IS SO DUMB BUT EVERYTIME I THINK OF IT IT MAKES ME CACKLE. what if he needs to beat the green ninja in a tuba off.
8. redeemed morro is pink. magenta to be specific. every other redeemed morro color can go home hes barbie pink or bright magenta
9. anything MCR related no i will not be elaborating (especially mama..)
any scene where hes on his dragon + that ENTIRE fight scene on the boat. bonus points if the ss is from the end of winds of change when nya goes "hes found his second wind" and morros theme kicks into full gear as the dragon roars. that was sick.
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Hello! Before I continue, I'd just like to say that you have been doing wonderfully with the plethora of matchups you have received! I'm pleasantly surprised by your level of pace and generosity; I haven't seen such a prolific writer on this app in a while. :)) Thanks for all the amazing works you've written so far!
Well, going forward, I would like to make a request for a matchup myself, if you don't mind: Can I please have a Tokyo Revengers perfect match with one of the males? If so, thank you so much in advance. ^^
— ABOUT ME (see below) —
— My pronouns: I am a cisgender female, so I go by pronouns aligned with my sex.
— My love languages:
• What I give: I primarily give Quality Time, Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation.
• What I'd like to receive: I have a preference for receiving Acts of Service and Words of affirmation. They definitely make me feel most appreciated! Though, since I don't frequently initiate physical intimacy, a partner who is well-versed in expressing Physical Touch is sweet, too.
— My personality:
• I’m an extroverted-introvert: though I can be long-winded, and I appreciate the many beautiful impacts conversing can bring, my solitude tends to be where I feel most comfortable. I also much rather prefer a small circle of trusted people to a large group, unless they’re my family.
• I’m a broad thinker and enjoy delving deep into topics with close friends and family members, especially my mother! Being insightful and empathetic—and with what I deem deep holistic perception of others—I can act as a great advisor to others—if they're receptive to my aid.
• I tend to work quite hard and ambitiously in honor of my goals and plans; I'm very dedicated and hardworking when I set my mind to something.
• I’m self-aware and introspective, and I need plenty time to reflect and shift inwards; after all, the source of my art and insights is my vivid internal world. My imagination is strong, too, and in much mental processing, I tend to creatively articulate my thoughts and feelings; thus, analogies and longer, verbose dialogue is practically an inveterate habit of mine — when I'm doing well. ^^'
• Though I'm caring and even friendly at times, I’m known to be just as direct and firm; to an extent, I've carried intensity in my aura ever since a young age—it's much been embedded in my soul, I believe, so essentially, it's an integral part of my being.
• I dislike superficiality and shallowness, uncleanliness, procrastination, overstimulation, and those who hold little regard for others and themselves...
• My downsides reside in my tendency to overanalyze and overthink. I'm highly detail-oriented and put much care and thought to whatever I may be handling, and while I consider that to be one of my greatest strengths, it can also warp into a weakness as it can greatly impede me from taking necessary steps forward.
Secondly, I also have a small liability for self-sacrifice: I care profoundly for others, but—mind you—as an introvert and sensitive person, I've found that my usage in energy matters greatly—so on occasions, I have ended up overextending myself as I attempt to satisfy the needs/wants of those around me.
And lastly, when I've not been well or have been overstimulated from my environment, I can feel either a) drained and tired, and consequently isolate myself from others until rejuvenated; or b) infused with anger, on constant edge, and have near explosive reactions (and while this takes much more of a push than the former state, it is extreme). :')
And if it is of any help to you, here is part of my typology and Big 3 in astrology: I'm an INFJ 1w2 125, and an Aries sun, Virgo moon, and Libra rising individual.
— My hobbies:
During my leisure, I orient my time mainly towards productivity and relaxation, as well as activities geared towards learning and expanding my knowledge.
• Dancing and singing (both are my high-energy releasers), reading, listening to music, cleaning around my home, and studying astrology, psychology, and philosophy are all hobbies I do here-and-there.
Again, if you do accept this matchup, then you have my gratitude — I truly appreciate it. Have a great day, Aly!ヾ(＠⌒ー⌒＠)ノ
Hello 😊. Thank you so much. It gets very overwhelming but I’m powering through it. I’m happy you like my work and I hope you like your matchup!
You Got…
Takashi Mitsuya!!!!
He’s very loving person and likes to help those he cares about whenever he can.
Would love that you show much interest in what he likes. Would talk to you for hours about sewing, fashion, Toman, etc.
I think his sisters would love you. They’d ask for you to teach them how to dance or sing.
Mitsuya can handle any person in any mode (apparently his youngest sister Mana is scary if you wake her up lol). So if you are overstimulated, he will do whatever he needs to do for you depending on your mood.
Loves imagination and creativity and I think philosophical and astrological topics. It would help give inspiration for new designs.
He’d help you clean.
Dates would be something like star gazing or walks in the park. Something where you two can have great talks.
#first division girl#tokyo rev#tokyo revengers#tr matchups#tr matchup#tokyo revengers matchups#tokyo revengers matchup#tokyo rev matchup#character matchup
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When you are old - Human AU, professors, there was only one office, Rated E
Aziraphale was an old soul.
He always had been. From the time he could talk, it was said he was wise for his age. Intelligent, dignified, he enjoyed the finer things in life. A well-versed book of poetry penned by an esteemed writer, the firm press of piano keys to a time-worn tune. He loved old movies and ancient gardens and hand-me-down baking recipes and long-forgotten, grown-over graveyards. Some thought him odd, set in his ways, stuffy. But he loved what he loved, and it made him happy. Why would he ever change?
Aziraphale lived a simple life. He woke each morning with a prayer of gratitude for his historic two-bedroom home. He showered and shaved and dressed for the day. After tea and breakfast, he mounted his vintage Azor Amsterdam (a very good bicycle indeed), and set off for the campus. His leather book bag rested safely in the forward basket like Toto and Dorothy.
He was getting on in years where he sometimes had to walk and push the bike up the hill near the park. Fifty had come and gone, but he still felt seventeen. Even if his body had accumulated extra baggage, his mind was sharp and agile. And besides. Age was just a number.
Aziraphale was lucky. He had a good job as a tenured professor in the English Department, teaching three classes a semester. His colleagues were more than amiable, several of them having become fast and firm friends. He had a nice stash put away, portioned his salary into a decent 403b, with enough money left over for frivolous things like root beer floats with chocolate ice cream and summer-colored sprinkles.
All of that changed with the entrance of one Anthony J. Crowley.
It was August. The summer was winding down, and the school year gearing up. Staff had returned, faculty soon to follow. His building had scheduled an informational meeting to welcome newcomers and catch up with the old. The department head had oodles of Big Ideas he wanted to share, even though Gabriel didn’t have the greatest track record of follow-through.
Still, the appetizers were always lovely, and the conversation was scintillating.
The glorious smells of freshly ground coffee and sweet, steamed milk welcomed Aziraphale as he entered the eating establishment. It was a venue he’d visited twice before. They offered an eclectic menu, vegan and vegetarian-friendly. If Gabriel did anything right, it was to put on a good show with an inviting atmosphere. And this place met the bill.
Aziraphale waved at Sociology-Anthology. The professors there shared a secretary with the English Department. This meant that whenever anything needed doing, the two departments would cross over, meeting in her office, fighting over territory and who needed what first.
Criminology was there, too, at least two out of the three of them. Though Aziraphale didn’t have an imagination open enough to figure out what curating future police officers had to do with literature and poetry. It was probably just the collapse of resources; more cuts to save the bottom line.
He stopped at the first table for a glass of sparkling something, pausing to sniff its contents before tasting. It proved to be something along the spectrum of apple to pear. Passable, if dry and tart.
He greeted Technical Writing with a handshake, accepting the slap on the back in congratulations for Aziraphale’s newest published work. It was nothing, really, just a spot of poetry he’d been working on for a few years. But sometimes it was nice to be recognized.
“Oi! Professor!”
The sound of that melodic voice, pure and simple and joyous, brought a surge of warmth in Aziraphale’s chest. He’d grown quite fond of the two adjuncts over the past few years. Taken them under his wing, so to speak. They’d both blossomed and flourished and branched out in the fullest way possible, and the radiant smiles on Eric and Muriel’s faces were a sight to behold.
“Hello, Dears,” he crooned, laying a gentle hand on each of their shoulders. Muriel had sprouted patches of freckles over their soft, flat nose, and Eric sported beautiful, long, sparkling lashes. They both looked well-rested and refreshed, eager to begin another year. And eager to spill with the latest gossip.
“Did you hear?” Eric hissed, beckoning Aziraphale to take a seat with them. “They’ve hired a new prof in Cosmology?”
Muriel, too excited to wait for his answer, flapped their hands and picked up where Eric left off. “He’s straight off sabbatical, working on his book. Something about gravity waves, and LIGO?”
Aziraphale sucked in his chin and tilted his head. ”Hm. Cal-Tech. Very impressive. I imagine they’ve brought him on to pick up the pace with retention rates in the scientific fields.”
Eric chortled and shared a look with Muriel. “Oh, he’ll retain ‘em, all right. I have a feeling they’ll be filling his classes like wildfire. The waiting lists will be miles long.”
“Yeah,” Muriel gushed. Their cheeks flushed rosy with excitement. They raised an unhurried hand, fanning themselves daintily. “He’s definitely going to create waves.”
Aziraphale huffed. “I suspect you young people crush on all the older professors.”
Eric looked scandalized. “No! Not on you, not at all!”
Muriel was backtracking faster than Aziraphale’s humility could keep up. “Of course not! You’re more of a father figure.”
Eric nodded enthusiastically. “Right. Father. Where this guy is more of a Daddy.”
The two youngsters giggled, leaning in towards each other, sharing a moment of unbridled glee. Aziraphale smiled, amused, mildly curious. If he read Generation Y’s signs correctly, the newest Physics instructor was handsome.
Aziraphale was decent enough looking. He took care of his skin and his teeth, practiced self-care, and rode his bike daily. If he happened to overindulge a bit on – well, on everything – who in their right conscience could equally judge him?
“How was your summer,” Aziraphale redirected, noting the delightful way Muriel leaned onto Eric’s shoulder. There was something platonic about it, something wholesome, endearing. Two of his favorite people in the world getting on so well warmed his heart.
There was a shared retelling of travels, to the Ozarks, the Upper Peninsula, the ocean. Both spoke with such animation it was like being part of the live-action. Aziraphale nodded and exclaimed and generally felt proud of the quests the two young people had accomplished.
As they spoke, Aziraphale’s mind drifted. Back to the unfinished drawing on his easel. To the rising bread dough on his windowsill. The new sheet music on the piano. He hadn’t traveled, but he still had a lovely summer himself, alone, unbothered. At home. Part of him wished he were back there right now.
But time marched on, and future generations depended on him. Who would guide them through dangling participles and that delicate tipping point between over- and under-describing?
Aziraphale folded his hands in his lap and smiled as his colleagues drew up memories and painted exciting retellings. And when Gabriel entered the building, commanding the attention of all gathered there, Aziraphale considered escaping through the back door on the way to the lavatory.
He didn’t, of course. He stayed. Aziraphale stayed and he listened to the corporate wafflings of a man so far in the bureaucratic shift, he risked falling into the abyss, never to be Humanities again.
Aziraphale humored his boss, greeted him warmly when his speech was done. It wasn’t Gabriel’s fault he was a pompous blowhard; he’d been designed that way.
“So,” Aziraphale posed, taking a step back when Gabriel leaned too far into his space. “We’re to move offices again? I’ve heard?”
Gabriel stared blankly at him for two seconds too long. “Oh! Yes! That’s right! They’re remodeling the offices in Tower to take care of the leaky roof. And that means we all get to be a little bit cozy for the first semester.”
Aziraphale didn’t like the sound of that. He’d only occupied his single office for three years now. After sharing for years before that, constantly shifting office mates, the thought of having another was unbearable.
“Oh? When will we find out where –?”
“All in good time,” the man drawled, rocking back on his heels. “There are still two weeks left until freshman orientation.”
Gabriel patted Aziraphale’s shoulder awkwardly, bouncing with misdirected importance along to Human Resources. He didn’t know. They were weeks from the beginning of the semester, and the department head didn’t know where their offices were.
“Oh, dear.”
Imagine Aziraphale’s surprise when, exactly thirteen days from then, he received an email from the chancellor.
We appreciate your patience as we work to secure the safety of our faculty, staff and students. Office numbers are now posted on the Campus Portal.
Imagine Aziraphale’s surprise when, upon logging in, he discovered he was to be sharing an office in the science building with the new professor in Cosmology.
Aziraphale pinched the bridge of his nose just below the reading glasses and sighed.
He packed up his bike the very next day, bright and early, intent on claiming the desk with drawers that locked. He parked his bike, looped the chain through the tire, and hefted his bag over one shoulder.
The Science Building lay perpendicular to the English Department, cozying up to the two-story library and campus store next door. It was an older section, much older than Aziraphale’s short tenure. It was notorious for musty smells and loud, echoing halls, and not because of the experiments in two large labs.
The halls were empty, his footsteps falling on dull, worn tiles. He followed the numbers on doors, searching for the assigned seven-seven-seven, armed with a key and a foreboding sense of doom.
Aziraphale needn’t have worried about drawers. The two desks that occupied the space didn’t have any. There were no windows, no bookshelves, no storage space at all. Just aging dark wood paneling on the walls, the two pieces of Ikea furniture pushed together like naughty children forced to hug each other in a timeout.
The heavy plank of a door closed behind him, rattling the ancient hinges and Aziraphale’s composure.
He exhaled heavily, set his bag against the wall, and pushed one of the desks into the far corner. Then he collected his nameplate and desk calendar out of his personal things. He set them on his desk and staked claim to that portion of the room.
With no chair, there was little else he could do. He’d have to wait until Maintenance chased down something suitable and —
The door flew open, banging against the wall with the force of a sledgehammer. A clatter sounded in the hallway, and a talk, dark, gangly someone shoved a chair on rollers through the entryway.
“Oh!” Aziraphale exclaimed, quite taken aback. The chair skidded to a stop as it connected with the desk. And then another chair rocketed into the room, colliding with the other and toppling over.
“Goodness!”
If Aziraphale was shocked and startled by the unannounced entrance of flying furniture, it was nothing compared to his reaction to their pilot.
It wasn’t the dramatic upsweep of burgundy-red coils and the angular frame. It wasn’t the warm, California-brown skin, the completely unnecessary dark glasses worn indoors. And it wasn’t even the hipster black-on-black ensemble that hung off the man’s shoulders in an unfairly attractive way. At any other time, the combination of these characteristics would send Aziraphale’s heart into overdrive.
But the way the man said his name was unforgivable.
“Hiya, ‘Ziraphale! How’s it going?”
He completely left off the first syllable, negating the importance of his identity, a proverbial thumbing of his nose at any sense of first impressions.
Aziraphale’s disgust caught in his throat. Never mind the positively aristocratic nose, the sensual hint of an underbite. The unmistakable air of confidence, the flirty tease of hair on his chest. It didn’t matter he swaggered inside like he owned the place, bending elegantly to set the chair right, smiling with moviestar quality and impeccable grace. He was a flash bastard, and Aziraphale decided he strongly disliked the man.
The new professor leaned against the desk in the center of the room, crossing one long, thin leg over the other at the ankles. He grinned unabashedly, waiting for Aziraphale’s response, capable-looking fingers spread wide over his knees.
“Oh, excuse my manners,” he exclaimed, abruptly pushing away from the desk and taking two steps in Aziraphale’s direction. “Anthony J. Crowley. Gen R.”
He offered a hand, peering over the sunglasses with wide, striking amber eyes. For a moment, Aziraphale was caught looking, drinking in the animal-like qualities within, like a wolf, or an eagle. But it would take a lot more than a stunning set of peepers to get Aziraphale to shake a man’s hand who couldn’t even get his blessed name right.
“Charmed,” he hummed, lips set firmly against the surface of his teeth, hands clenched at his sides. Mr. Crowley raised one eyebrow quizzically, a feat Aziraphale had attempted and failed many times. He straightened from his forward-inclined state, kicking out one foot and cocking his hip to the outside.
“So, we’re to be ‘mates, eh?”
Aziraphale didn’t trust the way he drew out the ‘m,’ making it seem dirty, insinuating innuendo in the vilest manner possible. It was crass. It was uncultured. It was – well, it was infuriatingly alluring.
“Appears so.”
Aziraphale watched as Mr. Crowley’s gaze swept from tip to toe and then back again, ending with a coy smile and the smacking of pink lips.
“Any allergies?”
“What?”
“All-er-gies.” He strung it out as if Aziraphale were stupid. “You know. Rashes, hives, uncontrollable sneezing. That kind of thing.”
Aziraphale huffed, drawing himself to his fullest height as if he were above such trivial chatter. “I heard what you said. I just needed clarification.”
Mr. Crowley’s chin dimpled as he nodded. “I’ve got a carload of plants I’ll be stashing here. Brightens the atmosphere. Cleans the air.”
Aziraphale scoffed, gesturing to the absolute water closet of an office. “There’s hardly room for two people, let alone decorations.”
“Oh, they’re not just for decoration,” the man argued, shifting from one foot to the other, still grinning. “They’re family.”
Before Aziraphale could open his mouth to protest, one such specimen appeared in the doorway, a broad-leafed, pod-bearing monstrosity held securely in the arms of one Muriel the Adjunct.
“Oh!” They startled, allowing the potted leaf-bearing object to be lifted from sturdy hands. “You’re here too! How wonderful!”
Aziraphale bit back the snarl that threatened to vocalize and forced a smile. “You’re helping. That’s – very kind of you.”
Muriel wiped their hands on their cutoff jeans. “Yes. Mr. Crowley needed a hand, seeing as his were full with the two chairs. Isn’t it great that he brought one for you as well?”
Aziraphale shifted his gaze from Muriel to Mr. Crowley, noticing the smugness with which the man slouched once more against the desk. “These are your chairs?” he asked, hoping he sounded appreciative of the gesture, even though he very much intended to procure a chair of his own, with much better lumbar support.
“Yep. One for you. One for me. Figured it was the least I could do, knowing what it can be like sharing an office with me.”
Aziraphale couldn’t determine whether the man was teasing or not. “That was – decent of you.”
“Wasn’t it now?” The strength of Mr. Crowley’s smile was as powerful as two suns. He really did think highly of himself, didn’t he?
Muriel cleared their throat, looked proud and absolutely honored to be carting the man’s things around like a servant. “Right. I’ll just run down and collect the rest of the plants.”
And they were off with the jauntiest of steps.
Aziraphale rounded on Mr. Crowley, intending to scold the man for taking advantage of Muriel’s kind and overzealous nature. But the professor had removed his sunglasses and was peering down that elegant nose, a self-assured grin on the most perfect of mouths.
It was honestly quite stunning.
“It was good to meet you,” the man crooned, voice dripping like the smoothest of honeyed concoctions. “I’m sure we’ll be great friends before the semester is through.”
Aziraphale highly doubted that. They didn’t seem to have anything at all in common.
“You as well,” he offered, never one to be impolite.
Anthony Crowley, with his suave hair and clothing, sun-kissed skin, and frankly unprofessional demeanor for one of such stature, gave a little salute and slunk past Aziraphale and out the door. There, he paused, backed up a step and leaned once more into the room.
“By the way,” he drawled, one hand on the doorframe, sunglasses dangling from long, manicured fingers. He nodded in the direction of Aziraphale’s cornflower blue cardigan. “Nice jumper. I have the same one. Wouldn’t it be wild if we both wore it on the same day?”
His smile widened to gremlin-like proportions, and then he disappeared, leaving Aziraphale wondering how things could possibly go more wrong.
He looked down at the soft cabled material, at the swell of his abdomen over the top of his substantial beltline, running a hand over the faint column of buttons from the shirt underneath. It was one of his favorites, wonderfully soft and incredibly comfortable. He looked over at the potted plant, thought of the youthful, energetic enthusiasm of Anthony J. Crowley. And suddenly, he felt very, very old.
“Well, ol’ boy,” he said to himself, reaching for his bag and pocketing his key. He’d forego moving the rest of his things for another day. He suddenly didn’t feel much like returning to work, anytime soon. “Looks like you’re in for one hell of a semester.”
On AO3
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who is shabira?
!!!!!! Shabira is part of the (blog canon!) future-plotting me and @/dolhood have done:
Shabira is a girl from Singapore. Her parents, Teratai and Jebat, were a young, newly married couple who opened shop in the wharf-town where the pirates were known to gather and do business. (Why there? ... I wobble on, but it stands to reason they were somewhat outcast, or breaking free of circumstances they didn't enjoy.) They quickly became close contacts of Elizabeth's, working with her to manage the re-sellable goods that came in off the ships of her fleet and waters. Growing up, Henry was left with them a few times, when he was younger and Elizabeth needed him looked after for one reason or another, so the families became close. Allies, but also friends. This, naturally, leads to Teratai and Jebat's shop becoming a regular landing place for Henry and Carina once they set out on their own.
Enter- Shabira! She is born in this era, closely post-canon, when Henry & Carina are newly set out to explore the world. So Bira grows up knowing Henry & Rina all her life, coming with the wind and tide to stay awhile -seemingly, by her perspective, just to see her!- and they get to watch her go from wiggly little bean to a brilliant kid. And probably Henry teaches her at least one really horrible trick she absolutely should not have been taught, but what can you do.
Some a few years into this general state of things, Shabira's parents are killed. I have a couple concepts of the who and why but nothing concrete, right now, but. Bira's parents (and many of their neighbors, the community of the town at large) die, and... either she was already with Henry & Carina for some reason, or when they get there they finds her, but either way she really just. Latches on. They're the last people she really knows.
Initially Henry & Carina plan to find her other family. She's got an uncle and cousins -her father's family- in theory, but finding them proves to be a nightmare endeavor. And you know, days turn to weeks. A couple months. They, admittedly, kind of stop looking. And it gets to a point where it seems more cruel than anything else to send her away to a new place nothing like the life she's known where she'd have to start all over with nothing and no one familiar. (Which is ...debatable, in terms of if it was the "right" thing to do, and really kids are generally very adaptable and she probably would have been fine if they committed and sent her to live elsewhere, but it comes from a place of love and good intentions (and also Henry's inability to let go.)) Bira, who has always been dear to them, really just gets... shuffled into the strange little family of the Lighthouse Island. And this is really what shifts gears for Henry & Carina, pulling them from their wilds and grounding them a little more firmly to Shipwreck. Transitioning event from arc iv. -> arc v. (so if you write with me in Henry's Shipwreck-bound verse, Bira is there!)
Primarily, Rina & Henry look after her. And it settles into... they both are, and aren't, her parents? She had parents, and she remembers them, and Henry & Carina do all they can to keep Shabira's memory of her parents alive and maintain that tie to who she is. And also, that's her parents. That's her family, anyway. She's known them all her life and Henry was always her favorite for silly games and Carina understands completely what it means to be a little girl who got left behind and they just. Cling to each other. Family!!
And all of this prompts Henry & Carina to kind of realize.. family. And settling a bit (not all the way, they're all still pirates living among pirates on untamed seas!) actually sounds... Nice. And wouldn't you know it before very long at all Bira has a (yet unnamed, we're working on it) little sister--
uhhh additional details I know but didn't make it into the paragraphs:
Bira & her mother, Teratai, were born in Singapore, but Bira's father, Jebat, moved there as a young man; this is why they're so cut off from her only other (living) family
Bira is around 5 or maybe 6 years old when her parents die
She is a little bit shy. She might outgrow it, who can say! but she's a little bit shy and quiet, it takes her a little time to open up
a natural bookworm, who spends a lot of time in the company of grownups, and her language skills are crazy impressive
#i love her i really do#there's a light that never goes out ( hc. )#dyn — ( henry / carina. )#arc v — love them through and through and through ( shipwreck. )
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