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elodieunderglass · 1 year

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the first chapter of Moby Dick rewritten in tiresome modern idiom

CHAPTER 1. Loomings.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - it's none of your business how many - being mostly broke, and bored with the land part of the world, I thought I would sail around a little and look at the watery part of the world. I'm probably the most mentally healthy person you know. Whenever I feel my face getting grim; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself accidentally reading the ads in the window of funeral homes, and following funeral processions through traffic; and especially when I'm hangry, and only my extremely strong moral principles stop me from deliberately going out in public and methodically slapping people's earbuds out - then I know it's high time to get to sea, ASAP. This is my substitute for getting in fights. I'm too mentally healthy to kill myself; I quietly and considerately put myself on a ship and sail myself away instead. There is nothing surprising in this. Everyone feels exactly the same way, and if they don't, they're lying.

You think I'm lying? Exhibit A: a city. Go to your local coastal city. Everyone is looking at the water. They drive over from other neighborhoods just to come to the water. They make a day of it. They're not doing anything, they're just staring at the ocean. Why? Is it because they all work office jobs? No! Here come more of them! They cram themselves up to the edge of the water and stare at it. WHAT DO THEY WANT? WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING AT. Perhaps the ships themselves all packed together, each one with several compasses on it, creates some kind of critical mass - all of the small compass-magnets on all the ships in the harbor combining into one really big magnetic field - and the people get sucked into the field and trapped there. That's science.

Exhibit 2: the countryside with lakes in it. Every path you follow in the countryside brings you to some water, such as a stream. There is magic in it. If you take your standard fool with ADHD dissociating in the middle of a supermarket and put them outside and give them a shove, they'll automatically lead you to water (if there is any nearby) (try it). Another good experiment to try is to get lost in the great American desert in a caravan supplied with a metaphysical professor! Try it in the great American desert at home!

Yes, as everyone knows, meditation and water are a match made in heaven. Married forever. That's science.

Here's an artist who wants to paint you the dreamiest, most enchanting landscape. What does he put in it? Trees, meadow, cows, a cottage with smoke coming from the chimney, obviously. He will probably put a path in it and make lots of triangular mountains in rows and have them be different shades of blue (naturally.) But there's gotta be a stream in it. Go visit the prairies in June, and wade for forty miles through knee-deep through tiger lilies. What's missing from this picture? Water!

If Niagara Falls was made of sand instead of water, would you travel your thousand miles to see it? Why would a guy given a handful of cash have trouble deciding whether to buy a coat (which he needed) or go to the beach? Why are all the best, healthiest, sexiest and most mentally healthy people obsessed with the sea? (You get me.) When you were first on a boat, did you not succumb to VIBES? Consider ancient Persia. Consider ancient Greece. They understood about vibes, and also gods.

SURELY ALL OF THIS IS NOT WITHOUT MEANING.

And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all! You get me! You understand it now.

Now, when I say that I am in the habit of going to sea whenever I get weird, don't you dare imply that I buy a ticket and get on a boat. I have never had money in my life. How dare you. Anyway I don't go as a passenger - that's bougie, and something boring people do. Passengers never have a good time. And although my C.V. is incredible - I go to sea SO MUCH, you guys, I have lots of experience - I don't go as a boss, or a cook. That sounds like far too much work. Hard work. Disgusting, respectable, bougie, and far too responsible. I can literally only look after myself. Do not ask me to look after ships or shit. In fact, I have only a vague idea of what a ship is. There's so many different kinds of ships - don't get me started and DO NOT GET INVOLVED. Also, I'm allergic to glory.

It's kind of attractive to go as a cook. I mean, I'm allergic to glory and there's some glory attached to the position of the ship's cook, but, like, you're not management-track and so it's still credible. But I don't really want to cook (say) roast chicken. I really fucking love to eat roast chicken. I'm one of the best at doing it actually. I really appreciate when people go out of their way to butter, season, baste and roast a chicken for me. Picture a roast chicken and I am Looking Respectfully at it. Maybe something more, maybe I'm worshipping it. Don't make this weird. If you want to get weird about my relationship with roasted chicken, why aren't you getting weird about the ancient Egyptians? They ate roasted hippos (look it up) and the pyramids were basically pizza ovens. So it's pretty hypocritical to think that I'm being weird about roasted chicken when I've never made mummies out of chickens or built a religious pizza oven dedicated to honoring them: check and mate, haters.

Anyway - I like to go to sea as a manual laborer. A simple sailor. Salt of the earth… er… sea. Yeah, true: as a job it sucks. They make you jump around, order you around, treat you like shit. They expect you to jump around the boat like a grasshopper. And yes, at first, this sucks. It's degrading, especially if you come from a middle-class family. Worse, it's awful if you've already had some kind of professional job before signing on to be the dirt on the boss's boots - like, if you went to college and worked as a teacher and actually got kids to pay attention to you, really feeling this connection to work/teaching/identity or some shit, and now you are just literally the scum on this captain's boots, in the lowest possible job in the world. It hurts! It hurts your dignity. But the hurt, and also the dignity, both wear off in time.

So what if some old bastard sea captain orders me - ME! - to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, compared to the shit in the Bible, compared to the shit in the news, compared to the shit everyone else has to take. Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain’t a slave? Tell me that. We're all just serfs under capitalism, right, so why not just be honest about it: I prefer the honesty. Anyway, however the old sea captains may order me about - slapping and punching of course - I have the satisfaction of knowing that it's the same experience everyone else on Earth has, but more honest. Everyone else in the world is being served the exact same way. Either in a physical or a metaphysical way - sometimes people get the shit beaten out of them in person, sometimes online, sometimes emotionally, it happens to you in EVERY JOB, you sign on to get pushed around and slapped in the teeth: so the point is that when you're a sailor, it's a clean and honest slap. All the workers of the world share the same universal slap to the face that gets passed round, one slap passed all 'round the chain, like paying it forward, but it's a slap; and we should all accept this Universal Slap as the price of living, and then offer each other healing back massages, brother to brother, and slap each other and then kissed the places we slapped, and be happy.

I could examine that but I'm not going to.

Anyway: I always go to sea as a sailor. I've said that already. You're welcome. BUT THE POINT IS, they pay you. If you're a passenger, they don't pay you, at least, not that I've ever heard of [citation needed] (do they pay passengers?? Is there a job I can get where I can be a passenger and get paid?? Look this up.) Yeah so passengers have to pay. And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. (That's Adam and Eve. You get it.) But BEING PAID. GETTING PAID IS THE BEST. NOTHING COMPARES TO GETTING PAID. EVERYONE LOVES THAT SHIT. Which is surprising, since we also apparently believe that money is the root of all evil, and isn't there something in the bible about "no rich people can get into heaven," right? And yet it's universal, literally everyone loves payday. Ah! How cheerfully we send ourselves to hell.

Finally, I always go to sea as a sailor (I've said this already) because it's FRESH AIR AND EXERCISE. Okay so think about ships. Normally, bosses stand on the "bridge" thing, and because we're sailing a boat, the nose is going into the wind and the butt part of the boat is at the back. That's how wind works. But if you think about it, winds usually go in one direction more than other directions (unless the men have been eating beans and farting: it's Pythagoras, look it up) SO if you're a boss standing on the boss-deck, the wind is blowing FROM the sailors TOWARDS you, and YOU ARE ACTUALLY BREATHING THE AIR THAT SAILORS ALREADY BREATHED. The boss THINKS he breathes it first, but he doesn't. He gets the air at the BACK of the boat and sailors get the air at the FRONT. So it's better to be at the front of the boat (sailor) for health reasons. This is a metaphor for life and work, etc.

But I have smelled the sea lots of times as a paid sailor and WHY I should decide to go on a whaling expedition - ok so you know how there's an invisible police officer of the Fates who has me under constant surveillance, who secretly dogs me, and influences me in some unaccountable way? YOU get me. You know him. "The poor FBI agent tasked with reading my search engine history" YOU GET ME. Anyway, "Ishmael, why, after having a perfectly well-reasoned, and very smart of you, part-time job as a spontaneous random sailor, did you decide to escalate that to joining a WHALING EXPEDITION, which is worse in every way?" Well, ask my fucking secret FBI agent, he can answer better than anyone else. Including me. You get me. Also, obviously, this was predestined, part of the Universe's Grand Programme for its talent show, which was all scheduled way before our time. The concept of sending me on the whaling voyage comes in as a kind of interlude or solo between the main performances of the Universe's great talent show. I bet it was advertised llike,

"PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF THE UNITED STATES EMBROILED IN ONGOING LEGAL DISPUTE.

Whaling voyage by some guy called Ishmael.

BLOODY BATTLE IN AFGHANISTAN."

Like a commercial break in between the big acts. A filler episode. Lightens the load for everyone else. Though I can't explain why the stage managers - the Fates - chose such a shitty role for me, a WHALING VOYAGE of all things, when it feels like others were given magnificent parts in high tragedies, and short and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces - it seems a little unreasonable at first. Why doth Ishmael get shat upon, etc. But then I think about all the circumstances, the plot points and motivations that were cunningly presented to me under various disguises - FBI agents, bouts of random hanger, gay awakenings, you get me - and you can see that actually, I was set up. And worse, between them all, these Fates and Circumstances conspired to make me believe it was all my own choice and good judgment. Is Free Will an illusion? Are my decisions bad? We will NEVER know because I, Ishmael, am just a little guy that the Universe plays head games with.

One of the ways the Universe tricked me into starring in this performance and then mocking me for it was the overwhelming idea of the great whale himself (whaling expeditions usually contain whales.) Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity. Then of course, if you have a whale, you have the wild and distant seas where the whale rolls around with his body-the-size-of-an-island; the dangers and nameless perils of the whale; whales are also found in interesting places I haven't seen; this all tipped me over the edge. Maybe normal people could've resisted, but I am tormented with an everlasting itch for obscurity. I hate everyone else's oceans. I want the forbidden seas.

You know The Horrors? Of course you do. You might be surprised that I, the most mentally healthy person you've ever met, a person who is self-aware enough to go to sea when they're at their fucking limits, a guy who likes fresh air and manual labor and normal things, is familiar with The Horrors. Well, you'd be surprised. I know what's good, I'm an extrovert. But I'm still quick to perceive The Horrors. And how I deal with the horrors is a very extroverted thing: I'm social with them, if they'll let me. It's smart to be on good terms with The Horrors. You should always be on good terms with your permanent neighbors. That's how extroverts deal with The Horrors, and I recommend it.

I think that's enough explanation for why I welcomed the whaling voyage. The great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild figments of imagination that pushed me into doing it, the whales came marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah. They marched into my innermost soul in endless processions and occupied it, you see, I was quite helpless under this occupation - I consented to the haunting and the whales marched in to haunt me - and amidst them all was one grand shrouded white phantom, like a snowy mountain in the air.

You get it.

You know how it is, with whales.

(read the actual first chapter of Moby Dick here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2701/2701-h/2701-h.htm)

#mody bick

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 2 months

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Imagine telling Luffy about why you don’t like Shanks…

“Why are you always so upset with Shanks?” Luffy wondered.

You brushed the young boys damp curls and twirled a finger around each strand to define the shape.

“He and I used to travel the seas, you know? We fought sea beasts and all kinds of pirates together.”

Luffy leaned forward. “Really? Was it cool?”

“Very cool and dangerous.” You reminded him with a small hair ruffle to set him back on the chair properly. “We were caught in an ambush and I was injured. Shanks brought me home, promising that we’d set off again after I was healed.”

Luffy grew excited. Maybe if Shanks came for you, he could also be taken along for the journey.

“Are you healed? Do you know when he’ll take you?” He asked.

You frowned and replied rather bitterly. “I was healed up over four years ago.”

Shanks had the audacity to pay a visit these last few months and spend time with Luffy while pretending like nothing had happened. It infuriated you and Luffy clearly caught wind of it.

There was a knock at the door. Your eyes darted up to see Makino standing there with a smile for Luffy.

“The ship has made port.” She told the boy.

Luffy jumped off the seat and ran for the exit. “Sorry Y/n, I have to go!”

You sighed at his speed hoping that he’d be careful on his way to the docks.

Makino looked at you while you put the chair away. “Are you coming as well?” She asked and when you didn’t reply she continued. “He’s been asking for you.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Tell him I-”

“I’m not telling him you drowned again. You’ll have to face him one way or another.” Makino said and then left to resume her duties at the bar.

Honestly, you’d rather not seek out the pirate who abandoned you. Let him have his fun. Yes, you couldn’t avoid him forever but you could reduce the hours in his presence.

And so that’s what you set out to do, you walked wherever the straw hat wasn’t. If he was at Party’s Bar, you were at home. If he was at the docks, you were by the furthest windmill.

You last saw the red-haired pirate downing a bottle of booze at the bar with his little curly haired shadow on the chair beside him. While they were busy, you decided to rearrange the furniture in your home finally able to tend to things that had been long neglected thanks to Luffy always running in and out of trouble.

Fixated on stacking books by the corner of the front room, you missed the soft padding of footsteps coming to a halt by the open door.

“I heard you ‘drowned’.” A voice said, sending chills down your spine. “Imagine my surprise when Luffy told me that you did his hair this morning.”

Shanks mused at you as he stood by the threshold of your door.

Damn, when did he leave the bar? You rolled your eyes and then turned around to place a blanket into a wooden drawer near to where he stood.

“Odd.” You hummed. “I thought you would have welcomed a lie? Aren’t you filled with them or is that only when they’re directed at me?”

Shanks stepped into the room and took your hand to stop you from walking to the next task. He knew exactly what you were referring to. For months you both had avoided the topic by the way you dodged him but this was finally the opening he needed to clear the air.

“I never lied. I fully intended to come back here in three months. But each danger I faced, every terror that sailed into our path and all I could see was the risk of losing you.”

You scoffed at him. Captain Shanks of the Red-haired Pirates was scared? You were surprised his nose hadn’t grown.

Not wanting to talk further, you attempted to leave the house entirely when the man who stole your heart caught you once more.

“Hey,” Shanks took the reins and guided you to the wall, gently bracing you against it. He was tired of the anger of the anger in your eyes, only wanting you to see him like you once did. His hands settled in their rightful place on your waist.

“There are very few things that I am afraid of - but from that list, the fear of losing you is at the very top.”

As you stared in his warm eyes, you were reminded of a saying he often said aboard calmer seas and private moments.

Shanks gazed back at your face, the one he was deprived of seeing each day. He brought one hand to rest against your chest and raised your own to sit above his own. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a delicate kiss before pulling away gently.

“I’m not a selfish man by nature.” He whispered. “But for your life and your love, I can be.”

~ More imagines here ~

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #shanks opla imagine #shanks x you #shanks imagine #shanks x reader #opla!shanks x reader #opla!shanks imagine #opla imagine #opla x reader #one piece live action imagine #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #akagami no shanks imagine

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nina-ya · 4 months

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Ways That Law Wordlessly Says "I Love You"

Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Kid Shanks Pairing: Law x reader CW: Mentions of blood. Fluff overall. WC: 1.2k

Leaning against the railings of the Polar Tang, the moon casting its gentle glow on the calm waters, you found comfort in the rare moment of the submarine surfaced on the open sea. Law joined you, and a comfortable silence settled between you, the only background noise being the ship's engines and the crash of waves.

“You know,” he starts, his fingers idly tracing the railings, “I’ve heard of these groups of islands on the Red Line, uninhabited and unexplored,” his fingers seem to trace circles into the railing, mimicking the islands as he continues, “I can see the entire crew living on one of those islands, just all of us together.” His fingers halt in their place, and his gaze shifts to you, “... and I see you there. I see you and me together, just living without a care in the world.” The atmosphere fills slightly with a tension and you sense a rare vulnerability in Law's demeanor.

“There's something about the uncharted,” he muses, his gaze fixing onto the stars above. “It’s just so pure and untouched. Not ruined by horrible people, and we would be the ones to shape its story.”

As he speaks, Law's demeanor softens, revealing a side of him rarely seen. His eyes hold a glimmer of anticipation, and the corners of his lips betray a subtle smile.

"I've seen enough chaos and battles," he admits. "What I want is to discover a future with someone I care about."

In the quiet between words, Law’s hand reaches for yours, fingers intertwining. "I can picture it," he confesses, "a life where you and I are free from the constraints of the world. One where we can live freely."

The conversation drifts into the early hours of the morning, the shared hopes and dreams only giving way to the certainty of being together forever. You know Law loves you when he talks about a future with you in it.

- - - The dim light of Law's cabin barely illuminates the room as the submarine sails through the night. As a habitual insomniac, he found himself immersed in the quiet of the late hours. Papers, maps, and various other books are scattered across his desk, evidence of a night spent deep in thought and planning.

The first rays of sun begin to filter through the porthole of his quarters, Law, weary but determined, pushes himself to finish what he has already started. Knowing that you will wake up soon, Law decides to ignore the drowsiness that threatened to consume him. Without a word, he closes his books, tidies the clutter on his desk, and heads to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Law moves with purpose. He selects ingredients, and soon, the aroma of fresh coffee beans fills the air as he brews a strong pot for you. The soft sizzle of eggs hitting the pan accompanies the noise of the coffee dripping into the pot

Despite the evident weariness in his face, Law continues. He plates a simple yet thoughtful breakfast—scrambled eggs, toast, and a steaming cup of coffee.

Just as the sun begins to shine over the submarine, Law returns to his quarters. The signs of a long night are evident in the disheveled papers, the scattered books. Yet, on the small desk, there sits a neatly arranged breakfast tray, just for you.

As you stir awake, the smell of breakfast fills your senses. You look over to the source of the smell and your eyes land on the desk. There, you find the meal and right next to it, lays Law, who is sound asleep. You smile softly as you take in the sight in front of you. You know Law loves you through his silent acts of service towards you.

The smell of blood fills the air as the battle comes to an end. Law surveys the aftermath, assigning the uninjured members of the crew to tend to the more severely injured ones as his own attention turns to focus solely on you.

“Here, let me help you.” He commands in his usual stern tone as he guides you to a less chaotic area, the subtle urgency in his voice betraying the composed facade. He quickly starts his examination on you, not wanting to miss any bump or scratch.

As other more bruised and battered crew members come to seek medical attention from Law, he quickly dismisses them. "Give us some space," he declares, a firmness in his voice indicating that he is not to be disobeyed.

Law meticulously examines you and your injuries, his fingers tracing every cut, every scratch, every bruise on your body as he decides his next course of action. He determines that your injuries are only surface level, but insists on staying with you and patching you up himself.

His attention never wavers as he tends to each and every wound on you, making sure to give you extra care and love and attention. He knows the rest of his crew needs proper medical attention, but a lingering voice yells at him to make sure that you are completely taken care of before anyone else. As he applies the bandages, you can see the care and love for you he has in his eyes. You know Law loves you when he puts your health and wellbeing above others.

Law sits in a corner of his quarters engrossed in the latest issue of "Sora the Warrior." The glow of the lamp beside him casts a warm light on his face, emphasizing the focus in his features evident in the furrow of his brows.

You enter the room, your purpose being to look for something, but your gaze falls upon Law and the unexpected sight of him being lost in a comic. A hint of surprise crosses your face, quickly replaced by a playful smirk. Law, sensing your presence, looked up, his expression shifting from concentration to embarrassment.

Caught in the act, Law instinctively closes the comic, a poor excuse falling from his lips as he utters "It's not what it looks like," a rare flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. His attempt at nonchalance only fuels your amusement.

You can’t help but tease him. "Didn't take you for a comic book fan, Captain," you say, a playful glint in your eyes.

Law sighs realizing he can't talk his way out of this one. "Fine, yes I'm into comics." he confessed, embarrassment evident in his tone.

Out of curiosity, you encourage him to share more. "Really? I had no idea you were into this stuff. What do you like about it?" you asked, taking a seat beside him.

Law hesitates for a moment before launching into an unexpectedly enthusiastic explanation. His eyes light up as he dives into the storyline, the character development, and the battles. As he rambles on, the embarrassment melts away, replaced by a childlike enthusiasm.

He begins to show you the comic, pointing out details in the artwork, discussing plot twists, and even theorizing how the story might go. The more he talked, the more animated he became, his initial embarrassment transforming into genuine enthusiasm for the comics. You find yourself smiling in complete and utter infatuation as his more unexpected nerdy side comes out as he rambles passionately. The excitement in his voice and the sparkle in his eyes shows you a different side of Law, one that you hope to see more often. You know Law loves you when he shares his unexpected passions with you.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x reader

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d-targaryenshoe · 1 month

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Blooming Love - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 1610

Summary: Having a picknick in a garden, together with your children, truly is a treat, is it not?

As the sun slowly crept across the sky, casting its warm, golden light upon the emerald green grass, Anthony and you, laid out a cozy picnic blanket in the Bridgerton's family garden.

Your two daughters, Edith and Florence, giggled as they chased each other through the lush foliage, their delicate dresses billowing behind them like the sails of a ship.

Little Gerald, meanwhile, sat contentedly in front of his father, absorbed in a game of peekaboo.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of roses as if nature itself was conspiring to create a perfect, idyllic scene.

Your hands were full with a basket of freshly baked treats, and you paused for a moment to admire the view.

"Anthony," you said, your voice tinged with wonder, "isn't it simply marvelous?"

You glanced over at your husband, his strong, handsome features etched with a look of contentment that seemed to radiate from within.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of love and gratitude for him, for your children, for this life you had built together.

Anthony smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection.

"Yes, my dear," he said, taking your hand in his. "It is indeed marvelous. And it's all the more so because we're sharing it with those we love most."

He leaned in to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away.

The tenderness of the gesture was not lost on either of you.

You knew that soon enough, your lives would change irrevocably with the arrival of your newest child.

But for now, you were basking in the quiet, peaceful joy of this perfect moment.

As if on cue, little Edith skipped over, her brown curls bouncing, her blue eyes shining with excitement.

"Papa, Mama, look what I found!" she exclaimed, holding up a particularly beautiful flower.

Anthony and you exchanged amused glances before thanking her and admiring the flower.

"That's a lovely bloom, Edith," Anthony said, his voice full of pride.

"Why don't you put it in your hair?" You suggested, helping your daughter pin the flower behind her ear.

You placed the basket down on the blanket as you tried your best to sit down on the blanket with the round bump in the way, but Anthony held out his hand and helped you settle down gently.

"There you go, dearest," he said with a warm smile. "You're going to make quite a beautiful picture sitting there like that."

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness, knowing that soon enough, your lives would change forever.

But for now, you could just enjoy this moment, this time together as a family.

As Edith ran back to her game with her sister, Gerald started crawling towards the picnic basket, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Oh, let me get that for you, young man," Anthony said, scooping up his son and setting him down next to him. "You're just a bit too small to reach it quite yet."

Gerald giggled, his tiny hands flailing in the air as if to prove his point, and Anthony couldn't help but laugh.

The sun continued to climb higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the lawn, but you all didn't seem to mind.

You were content, for now, just to be together, to soak up the last moments of this idyllic, peaceful life before your world was turned upside down.

And as you sat there, surrounded by the beauty of the garden and the love that bound you together, Anthony couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for everything you had.

You broke the silence, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you ever wonder what kind of life they'll have, Anthony?" you asked, gesturing toward your daughters. "What kind of world will they grow up in?"

He looked at you, his expression thoughtful.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I do know that we'll give them love, and we'll give them strength. And we'll teach them to always be true to themselves."

You smiled at him, a tear trickling down your cheek.

Your conversation was interrupted by a sudden burst of laughter from your daughters. Edith and Florence had found a game of tag and were chasing each other around the garden, their giggles filling the air.

Anthony's heart swelled with love for them, for the joy they brought to his life, and for the promise of the future they represented.

He couldn't help but wonder what kind of young women they would grow up to be.

As if sensing his thoughts, you reached out and took his hand in yours.

"They'll be fine, Anthony," you said, your voice steady and reassuring. "Everything shall be fine."

Gerald, meanwhile, had managed to crawl his way over to the picnic basket and was now sitting up, his tiny hands reaching for a cookie that he had spotted.

"Careful there," Anthony said, gently pushing Gerald's hands away from the cookie. "We haven't had lunch yet. We should wait until Mama says it's time to eat." Gerald pouted, but reluctantly let his hands drop to the blanket.

Time seemed to slow down as you sat there, watching your children play.

The warmth of the sun, the smell of the flowers, and the sound of laughter all blended to create a perfect moment that you knew you would cherish forever.

But Anthony knew that this idyllic scene would soon change.

He was about to become a father again, and with that came new responsibilities, new challenges, and a new sense of vulnerability.

"Do you ever think about the past, Anthony?" you asked, your voice barely audible over the sound of your children's giggles.

He turned to look at you, surprised by the question. "Of course I do," he replied. "But the past is gone. We must focus on the present and prepare for the future."

You nodded, your expression thoughtful. "Yes, you're right. But I mean, do you not ever have a single thought about what would have been different if we didn't wed one another?"

Anthony considered your question for a moment. It was true that you could have ended up in vastly different places if you hadn't met and fallen in love.

Perhaps he would have married someone else, or you would have found someone else who could give you the life you deserved.

The possibilities were endless. But as he looked at your happy family now, he knew without a doubt that he wouldn't change a thing.

"I suppose I do think about it sometimes," he finally said, "but only because it helps me appreciate what we have now. We could have easily been apart, and yet here we are, stronger than ever. Whatever it was, I'm grateful for it."

"No, no, I am grateful for you, for your family, all the lot."

Your conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

You turned to see Violet Bridgerton making her way toward you, a smile on her face.

"Oh my-, Violet," you said, rising to your feet. "What a lovely surprise."

"It surely is" Violet replied, hugging you. "I couldn't resist the opportunity to see my favorite little ones."

Violet leaned over to plant a kiss on each of your daughters' heads, eliciting giggles from both Edith and Florence.

Anthony smiled at his mother. "And how are you feeling, Mama? How has life changed with Eloise getting married?"

Violet considered the question, her eyes drifting toward the garden.

"Well, it's certainly different, Anthony. I never thought I'd see the day Eloise would be wed. But, she's grown into herself so beautifully, and she and Philip are so very much in love. It's hard not to feel happy for them."

She paused, her gaze returning to the two youngest girls, who were now running around the blanket, their laughter filling the air.

"Of course, I do miss having her around as much. She was always such a bright light, even when she was at her most mischievous. But children grow up, and they move on to their own lives."

You reached over and took Violet's hand in yours. "You know we'll always be here for you. And you must remember that Eloise will always be your daughter, no matter where she is or what she does."

Anthony nodded in agreement. "And who knows? Perhaps one day we'll have grandchildren running around the manor."

Violet smiled at the thought, her eyes shining with happiness. "Oh, I hope so," she said wistfully. "It's such a wonderful thing, watching your children grow up and start their own families."

You sat together in silence for a moment, lost in your thoughts until the sound of the children's giggles grew fainter.

Realizing that they were getting hungry, Violet spoke up, offering her hand to her grandchildren. "Shall we go inside for some tea?"

Gerald accepted her hand. "That sounds lovely, doesn't it?" she replied. "I'm sure you all would love some freshly baked scones."

You watched the kids go inside the house with Violet and you let out a content sigh, leaning back on your hands.

"It's amazing how much they've grown, isn't it?" you said, looking at your husband.

Anthony nodded in agreement, his gaze following your daughters as they disappeared into the house. "They are the lights of our lives."

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, the sounds of laughter and clinking teacups drifted out from the house, reminding you of the life you had built together.

It was a life that had started so uncertain, with so many obstacles in your way, but you had managed to overcome them all.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton netflix #colin bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #anthony x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x y/n #x reader #anthony bridgerton x you

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griancraft · 19 days

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Hi guys, this is sort of my official "please, for the love of god, listen to Skyjacks with me” post because I’m losing my mind and all the content I can find is from the latest stuff right now, and I don’t want to spoil myself. I want to be able to talk about this with people!!!! I will make a watch (listen) party discord if there is enough interest. Just give it a chance; you won’t regret it. Also, some information may be wrong or outdated. I’m on episode 11 out of over 200.

Skyjacks is a ttrpg podcast about sky pirates in a world where there was a catastrophe about 200 years ago that left the sea unsafe to sail and maybe even damaged the entire world to the point where civilization is scattered and in small groups. There is very casual queer rep, and it’s casual to the point where it really just fits into the world perfectly.

A brief summary of the premise of the first episode will hopefully get you hooked. I’m really bad at summaries, but I promise it’s a billion times better than how I talked about it here:

Captain Orimar Vale is dead, and a mutiny will be on Gable, Jonnit, Travis, and Dref’s hands if they are unable to keep up the ruse of him being alive. To do this, necromancy (deeply forbidden magic) is performed by the Dref, the ship's doctor, to turn him into a semi-functional zombie. Captain Orimar is famous for his abilities as a captain; to replicate this will take great skill.

As they run out of supplies, they make a desperate decision: port on the land of one of Orimar’s scorned lovers or deal with the growing uneasiness of the rest of the crew. They haven’t seen their captain healthy in months, and whispers about his health are starting. However, greater danger will await them when they take to the skies again, lurking just beyond the clouds…

And more propaganda as to why I think you guys will like it:

There are unique and interesting gameplay mechanics they use to tell a really cool story, and if you like Hermitcraft or any other sorta storytelling-based SMP, I promise you’ll like it. Like. If you liked Boatem from Hermitcraft 8, you’ll love the characters in Skyjacks. The players are exceptionally good at playing their characters, their humour is unmatched by anything similar I’ve had the pleasure of seeing, and the story is prioritized, which I think is an amazing choice.

Best part? It’s still ongoing after, like, 5 years. Some people have left, but a good chunk of the OG cast has stayed. Not that leaving is bad, because holy crap, 5 years is a long time, and stories have to end at some point! It’s a good way of getting into something and knowing there is still a shit ton of content to be explored.

The music is good. The story is good. The characters and humour are amazing. The lore of the world is sprinkled throughout, and as you learn more about the world, the more excited you get. It’s incredible so far, and if you decide to listen to it, I will actually love you forever and ever. My boyfriend is on episode 190, and he finds it so funny every time I go. Oh my god, this is so cool.

Link to the podcast, but in a playlist (up to 180). So it’s in order and easy to find, since it’s a part of something else from the oneshot network:

#I need you guys to get into skyjacks I cannot do this alone #Can’t even look in the skyjacks tag for fan art to loose my mind about because I am literally over 200 1hr+ episodes BEHIND #I promise it is so worth it #I’m almost done episode 11 :#which is so so early so it would be very easy to catch up to me #I’m going to reblog this once a day or so I think #collapses in a heap of dust this post was never supposed to be this long #also please don’t spoil me if you’re ahead or get ahead guys istg i will kill you with my bare hands I’ll put my episode number in my pinne #ack tags too long #me when I infodump for 45 minutes straight when I should be working on my final essay #I’m dragging you fuckers kicking and screaming. Please guys.#I realize now this will like definitely show up in the tags but honestly I don’t know if that matters

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short-honey-badger · 1 month

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Peppermint Tea 31 - All Blends 2

Holy crap is this chapter a doozy lol. It's quite a bit longer than my other chapters. Lotta stuff happens. So I hope you enjoy!

Warnings! None this time? Sad stuff happens ofc. We are introduced to someone new.

P.s. I was going to use some random son for Big Mom but like. I did a Lil research and I can't help but like Katakuri. 😬 again. I apologize if Big Mom and Kata seem a bit off. I'm trying to keep myself spoiler free for the anime.

Masterlist

Benn runs through the courtyards of Mihawk's castle, dodging swipes from the Humandrals until he hears the sound of striking steel. He turns that way, picking up speed as he goes until he arrives at a small clearing in the dirt. Shanks and Mihawk are both grinning, a joy so easy to see that Benn thinks he may go blind. Usually, he'd stay and watch, but he can still hear your terrified voice pleading for help.

He slides to a stop, and the two men sparing turn and look at him, brows raised.

“Benn? What's going on?” Shanks asks his first mate. Benn wouldn't come get him unless it was important.

“It's, _ Shanks. They found her.”

The temperature of the surrounding area plummets, and all ambient noise disappears. Neither man can believe what they are hearing. They'd both been so sure that no one would be able to find your tiny island tucked away in Paradise, so close to the Calm Belt that most ships would be torn apart by sea kings. How could this have happened?

“What did you say?” Mihawk hisses and his grip on Yoru tightens to the point of pain, his nails digging into the flesh of his palm. He ignores the feeling of hot liquid dripping down his hand.

Shanks isn't faring much better. He looks ashen, pale faced and nervous. He and Benn share a look, one that Mihawk easily catches.

“_ called the transponder snail. She said that the Big Mom pirates had made landfall,” Benn frowns, one hand running through his graying hair.

“She sounded terrified.”

Mihawk is moving before his mind fully registers what's going on. He speeds through the castle, grabbing his coat and bag he'd packed the other day in case you called them. His haki is lashing, sending furniture falling and making the old stone walls of the castle crack and fracture. The ringing of his snail grabs his attention, and Hawkeye grabs it before loping out of the castle and to the bay.

Shanks is right behind him, Benn keeping up with his captain. It is with a silent, shared look with his lover that Mihawk reluctantly steps aboard the Red Force. He isn't fond of being on another's ship, especially one as big as this one, but like hell, would he let the younger man out of his sight.

While Shanks is barking orders, Mihawk takes the time to answer the still ringing snail that he clutches too tightly.

Ca-lick

“Mihawk! Finally! I've been calling forever!”

Perona’s shrill voice is a little comfort, but fear still clutches Dracule by the heart. She is rattling on before he can get a word in.

“You've got to get back to _’s island. She thinks it might be Big Mom and her crew!”

Mihawk feels a vein pop in his brow with his hard he scowls down at the snail.

“I know! Where are you? How quickly can you go back?”

“I'm three days out! So, two and a half if the sea doesn't hate me. What if she's already gone? What if…what if it's worse?”

Mihawk can hear the thickness in Perona’s voice and knows that the ghost girl is probably crying now, having worked herself up in a tizzy. He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Perona. I need you to calm down, girl. Listen to me when I say that _ will be fine. We can handle anything that's happened, but I need you to do something for me, okay?”

He hears the pinkette sniff over the transponder, but she sounds like she's gotten a hold of herself.

“Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to go back to her island. Find out if she's still there, but be safe. If you see her jolly roger, then you sail right to us. You've got your log pose, right?”

Perona sniffs again and nods even though her father-figure can't see it, “Yeah.”

“Good. If the island is clear, then investigate carefully.” He stresses the word, “Call me back as soon as you can, got it?”

“Yes, Mihawk. Will she really be okay?”

His heart breaks at the fear that he can hear swimming in his charge’s voice. He licks his lips. He is terrified in all honesty, but he keeps it together for her sake.

“She will be. Be safe, Perona.”

The ghost girl assures the older man that she will be careful and the transmission ends after that. Mihawk pockets the snail and looks around the ship to try and find Shanks.

The redhead is at the helm, still barking orders at his crew. Dracule picks his way past the pirates until he arrives at his lover's side. Shanks glances at him and then looks away, his haki curling tight around himself as if he was trying to hide away from the other man. Mihawk can't help but feel a little hurt.

Shanks is panicking. How could he tell Mihawk that all of this was his fault? That it had been him That had slipped up, his lips loose with drink and his heart heavy with wistful thoughts of his treasure that night so long ago.

The hawk hadn't trusted him with this from the beginning, and it killed him to admit that Mihawk had been right about Shanks after all? All the trust and affection that his lover had given him would go up in flames so quickly that Shanks wouldn't even be given a chance to mourn it. The redhead had little doubt that Mihawk would spirit you away from him as soon as he was able once he found out about his mistake.

The captain keeps himself busy for as long as he is able, but Mihawk is nothing if not patient, and he stays by his side until there are no more orders to be said. Before he can make a getaway, his hawk grabs him by the arm and practically drags him across the deck and into the Captain quarters. Shanks could have wrestled away, but then Mihawk would have been even more suspicious of him.

Shanks is shoved in a chair, and his lover putters around the room, pouring them both a drink before settling down in the seat across from Shanks. He sips delicately, but Shanks' nerves have him knocking back the glass of rum like it's a shot of whiskey. He jumps when Dracule speaks up.

“Perona is three days out from _’s island. She'll call me with news as soon as she gets there and if the island is clear or not.”

Shanks forces himself to nod. He licks his lips and scrubs his hand through his hair, “Good. That's good.”

Mihawk raises a brow at the other man's attitude. The man was acting more like a scared rabbit than the powerful Emperor that Dracule knows him to be. He sets his glass away and stands, crossing the short distance to stand between the redhead’s legs, and sets his hands on those tense shoulders. Mihawk guides him forward to rest his head against his bare chest, and his hands snake up to thread into red hair.

“How are we going to find her, Mihawk?”

The Emperor’s voice sounds shot, broken and beaten, and it breaks his heart listening to it. His grip tightens in Shanks’ hair, and Mihawk sighs softly.

“I don't know. But we'll search every island in Big Mom’s territory if we have to.”

~~~~~ Tomura ~~~~~

Tomura dashes through the streets of the city, a mischievous smirk on his face when he looks behind him and sees his little sister chasing after him. You look furious, but the expression just looks adorable on her chubby baby face. Tomura had snatched her favorite blanket this morning to try and wake up the sleepy head, and the chase had been on since.

Obviously, he wasn't going as fast as he could. Tomura was older than her by almost a decade, after all, and he didn't want his sister to get lost in the crowds of people. Not that the citizens of their Kingdom would let their only princess get lost.

The people laughed and urged her in the way her oldest brother ran, encouraging her to catch up to him. Their king and Queen had always been kind to their subjects, and in turn, they stayed loyal to the royal family.

Tomura slows to a stop, ducking behind a stall selling fruit and waiting for his little sister to dash past him. He springs out and grabs her by the waist, spinning you around in the air. You shriek in laughter, clutching at his wrists as he turns his lower body into dust and flies back the way he came, back to the castle and to where breakfast awaits.

Tomura opens his eyes, squinting when the sun makes them water. He wonders what you look like now. Had you found a way to survive and flourish after he left you behind? Would you even remember him? The thought of you not knowing who he is made his chest tight with fear and his throat clog with emotions he carefully hid from his men. Could you forgive him for leaving you behind, even if it had been the best course of action?

An angry scowl twists his lips, and Delemur lets out a string of quiet curses, mostly centered around a certain red-headed Emperor who had somehow stumbled across the safe house. Damn Red-Haired Shanks.

“Captain! We're going to make landfall soon!” The voice of one of his crew startled Tomura out of the fond memory and his less than savory thoughts. He rubs his face, sighing as he straightens up from where he'd been leaning on the railing.

“How long?” The white-haired man asks and looks at the lieutenant before him.

“Lookout said we're about thirty minutes out, Sir.”

Tomura nods. They would need to be prepared if some of Big Mom’s crew were there. Same with Shanks and his crew.

“Get the men prepared for a skirmish. Big Mom won't be here, but I'd bet she'd send some of her stronger men to get my sister.”

The news of his little sister being the reason behind his sudden disregard of orders had swept through the ship quicker than scurvy. But his marines were loyal, and technically, they were still chasing after pirates, so the higher ups could be too mad at them.

“Yes, Sir!” his lieutenant snapped, and then he was off, getting the other crew members up and running.

Tomura stalked to the front of the ship, and from here, he could see the outline of your island. His mouth twists in a grimace, and he prays that he's gotten here quick enough to beat Big Mom’s crew.

However, the closer he gets, the more his chest grows tight. There is grey smoke rising into the sky on the east side of the island, and even after so long away, Tomura knows that is where the safe house is.

The shore comes into view soon, and Delemur frowns when he sees a small ship docked at the shore, a large cross on the flag. He's seen that before, but he doesn't understand why Dracule Mihawk would have a shit all the way out here. Maybe it'd been stolen?

They drop anchor in the next couple of minutes, and Tomura flies ahead and drops to the sand, taking a look around with a frown. The beach looked awful, the beautiful sands trampled all the way up to where it became grass. Most of the lush forest had been torn down, most likely caused by the larger members of the raid party. He followed the trail up, picking up the pace until he was in an all-out run.

Tomura slides to a stop, sticken at the sight before him. The entire place is a disaster, the cottage a charred husk of what it used to be. The scent of burning wood is thick in the air, and the once lush and full gardens that you had cared for have been overturned and stomped on. He can see the broken remains of a small pen on the side of the building, but there were no animals in sight.

Carefully, he steps forward, bending down to collect a shard of green sea glass that had survived the fire. The Vice-Admiral flips it end over end then pockets it before walking inside the destruction. The living room is full of burned books and clothes, the furniture broken and ashen like the rest of the house. There is a shelf holding on for dear life, an old record player with a stack of melted records resting beside it.

Tomura moves to the kitchen, taking in the shattered glass of the window and the many planters that take up the majority of counter space, each plant dry and brittle or nothing but ash. A wind chime is still intact, and he reaches forward to brush the pads of his fingers across the metal tube, frowning when the beautiful melody fills the air. That kind of sound didn't belong in such destruction.

Onward Tomura goes, learning about his little sister as best he can through the ruins of her home. Your love for music and books could easily be seen, but how could he ever know what they were? What is your favorite song to listen to now, or what you liked to do on long lazy days. Were you all alone? The pen outside suggested his sister had found animals, but where were they?

Your bedroom was in a bit better shape from the rest of the house since the door had been shut before the fire had started. Tomura carefully sits on the ashen bed, green eyes looking at everything he can as quickly as he can see. He wanted to know everything about you. He had missed so much of your life, and the regret of leaving you behind was suffocating.

Would you have been safer in the military? Maybe, but Sengoku would have taken one look at you and your devil fruit and thrown you into training, just like they did with him. Tomura didn't want that for his baby sister. He had wanted you to live a good life, even if it would be a lonely one.

His thoughts are stalled when he catches sight of what hangs in your closet. His green eyes zero in on the long coat with a high collar decorated with intricate designs. Delemur knows that coat. He has seen it on the occasional times he had run into Mihawk.

The two of them had a mutual understanding to not speak about what had happened between them. Tomura didn't like that the older man had helped Big Mom, but being in the Navy gave him a different perspective. Not to mention his own skeletons hidden away in his closet, and in the end, Mihawk had been the reason that Tomura and his sister got out alive. They were even as far as he cared.

But seeing the Warlord’s coat made him pause. The tiny ship in the bay had already been suspicious, but the coat only added to his rising confusion. All the rumors had pointed at Shanks being the one to have found you, so then why in the fuck wasn't he seeing anything that might belong to the Emperor?

The sound of a bleating goat suddenly grabs his attention, and then he picks up the sound of his men shouting. Delemur bolts out of the house and finds Mihawk's pink charge, Perona glaring daggers at his men, specifically Private Nitchell, who points a shaking pistol at the young woman. Three chickens and an ornery looking goat stand behind her.

“What the fuck is going on out here?” He demands, and glares at the private, “Stand down, Nitchell. Does she look like a threat to you?”

The young man shakes his head, a blush high on his cheeks at getting reprimanded, “No, Sir! Sorry, Sir!”

The Vice-Admiral watches Nitchell stow his weapon and back up from where the ghost girl looks ready to tear his head off. Tomura rounds on the pinkette, cockimg a brow at her.

“Perona right? The hell are you doing here?” He demands and crosses his arms over his chest, unimpressed by the glare that she proceeds to aim at him.

“What's it to you?” She spits at him and floats up, crossing her own arms. He spots several ghosts behind her and prepares to turn himself into dust if one flies at him. He'd seen what those things could do. However, his annoyance skyrockets at her answer, and Tomura is hard pressed not to reach out and try to wring her neck.

“I asked you first,” he snarls right back, and feels like he is arguing with a little kid when Perona sticks her tongue out at him.

“I was coming to visit my friend, Navy Man. You should leave before my dad gets here.”

Tomura rolls his eyes and ignores the threat, “Your friend is my little sister. How did you find this place?”

Whatever argument that Perona was hyping herself up for deflated like a popped balloon when she registered what the marine said. She looks him over, dark eyes flickering from head to toe. The more she sees, the less Perona thinks that this man is lying. He looks like you. His cheekbones and brow are a familiar and comforting sight. But what should she tell him? Perona didn't think that Mihawk would be very happy with her if she happened to spill the beans on everything that he's been doing.

Perona licks her lips and floats back down, dismissing her ghosts and setting a hand on top of Neal's head. The goat grunts at her and butts his head into her hand, happy that the only other person he tolerated had found him and the three chickens hidden away in the intact part of the forest.

“Mihawk found this place a few years ago. After a while, he told me about your sister, and I wanted to be her friend. She seemed lonely, and I know what that's like,” Perona begins and shifts her weight with a sniff. She's been here for two days looking for anything that would help them find out where Big Mom’s crew may have taken you. The only luck she had was finding your goat and chickens. Hank and Sukuna were nowhere to be found.

Tomura's hands clenched into fists at the information. Mihawk had known about you for years, and Delemur was just now finding out about it. How were Shanks involved then? To his knowledge, the redhead and the hawk stayed away from one another. Until recently, that is.

Just what the hell had his baby sister gotten up to?

“She called me five days ago and said that some of Big Mom’s crew had found her island. I came as fast as I could, but I was too late. Shanks and Mihawk are on their way here now.”

Tomura doesn't like the thought of such powerful men working together and all for the sake of his little sister. What had you done to catch their attention? Did he even want to know the answer to that?

“How long until they get here?” Tomura asks after a moment. He would wait here until they arrived. At least he wouldn't have to go tracking the pirates down. He had a couple of choice words to give both of them now that he knows that Mihawk has been here as well. That bastard had looked him in the face not four months ago and had said nothing about knowing you.

Perona shrugs at him, her face morphing into a pout, “I don't know. Another week?”

Shanks and his crew were strong enough to go through the Calm Belt if they wanted to, and that would cut their travel time down by a lot. Gloom Island was a two week trip from here by normal means.

Tomura grumbles at having to wait that long, but he isn't that much of an asshole, and so stalks forward and offers Perona his hand.

“I apologize for getting off on the wrong foot with you. My name is Tomura. Thank you for being my sister's friend.”

The ghost girl blinks dumbly up at him before tentatively taking his hand and shaking it.

“Uh. You're welcome?” Perona has never been thanked for being someone's friend before. It was a little weird, but Tomura seemed genuine and kind like you. Just a bit more…violent it seemed.

Tomura blushes and takes his hand away, rubbing them together before pointing at Neal and the chickens, hoping to change the subject.

“Are those _’s?”

Perona nods and introduces Neal and the chickens. She couldn't remember if you had named the fowl, so she had taken it upon herself to name the rooster Henry and the two hens Harriet and Henrietta. The crew of his ship piddled around the island while Perona told Tomura stories about his little sister, and soon, the sun was beginning to set on the little island. He sighs heavily and invites Perona on his ship for dinner. They may as well get to know one another if they were to be stuck on an island together for the next couple of days.

Those days pass in the blink of an eye, and it is late in the evening on the fifth day when the lookout on his ship announces that the Red Force is entering the bay. Tension skyrockets, and Perona stands away from Tomura while they watch the pirate ship navigate to the shore. She can see two people standing at the bow of the ship, and tears of relief sprout in her eyes when she spots Mihawk's wide hat.

~~~~~~

The fear and anxiety that Shanks has felt during the entire trip explodes the moment they spot the navy vessel docked at his treasure's island. Of course, the rumors had reached your brother. Shanks should have known Tomura would be on his way here to see you. He curls his haki close to himself, refusing to let the older man feel just how manic he is right now. He needed to keep his head clear for this.

Next to him, Mihawk's haki lashes like an angry snake, golden eyes wide and full of fire when he sees the ship. He recognizes who it belongs to and cuts his eyes over at Shanks, who won't even look his way. Dracule had been silent about his concerns with just how Big Mom had found out, and he doesn't like the picture that has been painted for him. He doesn't want to accuse anyone of anything until he has all the knowledge he needs.

Mihawk and Shanks flash to the shore, and the warlord gets an armful of sad ghost girl the second his feet touch sand. Perona buries her face in his chest, arms wrapping around his waist and holding the warlord tightly. Tears sprout and run down her cheeks, and Mihawk can do nothing but sigh and hold the young woman close, one hand stroking the back of her pink hair.

Shanks steps up beside him, a kind smile that he forces on his lips as he pats Perona on the back, “It's alright, kid. We're here now.”

Mihawk shoots him a grateful look, and thankfully, Perona decides to pull away, reaching up to wipe her eyes free of smeared makeup.

“It took you two long enough to get here,” She grumbles and takes a step away, turning to look over at the Vice-Admiral, “Tomura has kept me company.”

Dracule looks up and catches the Navy man's eyes, the green dark and full of suppressed rage. He doesn't expect the younger man to bypass him almost immediately, instead, aiming that almost familiar glare at Shanks. The tension deepens, and sand is kicked up by the haki that coils between the three men. Tomura wasn't anywhere near the pirate's power level, but that wasn't about to stop him. The Emperor was the one responsible for his baby sister getting taken.

“Did he, now,” Mihawk murmurs and carefully maneuvers Perona to stand slightly behind him. He didn't want her to get caught in this, and the Warlord could tell that whatever was about to happen wasn't going to be very pretty.

Tomura isn't here to beat around the bush and cuts straight to the case, “Did you have any fucking plans to tell me that you knew my sister, Mihawk? How the hell did you even find her?”

Mihawk keeps his face free of any kind of expression that may give away his true feelings. Brother or not, Mihawk wasn't in the mood to deal with this right now. Not when you were obviously still missing. What he doesn't expect is Tomura rounding on Shanks, his tone dropping and turning dangerous.

“And you, you son a bitch. You're the fucking reason my gods damned baby sister was found.”

The silence that blankets the shore of the island is deafening. Tomura grins meanly when he sees that panic that pools in Shanks’ dark eyes and stands taller, pointing an accusing finger at the redhead. Mihawk follows the gesture, his heart seizing in his chest when he catches sight of the look of devastation that paints his lover's face. He takes two steps back, bringing Perona with him, away from the man who had promised Dracule that he could trust him.

“You promised me, Shanks,” Mihawk remarks and tries to keep the hurt out of his tone, but the younger man easily picks up on it, making him feel worse than scum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. The hurt quickly turns to anger, and the warlord reaches for Yuro, the blade swinging around to point at Shanks.

“You promised me that you would keep your mouth shut! You drunken, lying bastard. I never should have put my trust in you again.”

His ringed eyes blaze with a rage Mihawk hasn't felt in decades. Not since he was young and impressionable. His heart feels shattered, and out of everything, disappointment rings through his body like a live wire. He shouldn't have allowed the redhead to pass his walls.

Shanks’ eyes widen at the threat, and he takes a couple of steps back from the wicked blade. His own hand curls around Gryphon, and Shanks braces for the fight that would no doubt happen because of his mistakes. He didn't want to fight Mihawk, but he would defend himself if the older man made the first move. He quickly began to explain before Dracule could try and take his head from his shoulders.

“I know, and I'm so sorry, Mihawk. I was drunk that night, and I missed the two of you so much. I didn't know I was being so loud until Benn told me to shut it. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

Shanks is pushed back when Mihawk's haki lashes out, his face flushed red from how angry he is at the lame excuse. How dare he.

“When are you not drunk off your ass, Shanks? There is no excuse that you can give me that will make any of this okay. _ is gone! Most likely slated to be married off to one of Charlotte’s sons because of your inability to keep your mouth shut!”

Perona grabbing him by the arm is the only thing that prevents Mihawk from following after Shanks. He glares at her, about to snap at the girl to let him go, when he sees the unshed tears and fear in her dark eyes.

“We need his help finding her, Mihawk,” Perona says, voice thick with emotion. She doesn't like seeing them fight, and it hurts seeing what she has begun to call family fall apart in front of her eyes.

Her words seem to bring everyone back to the situation at hand, and the wild haki from the three men is pulled back and settled. Tomura relaxes his shoulders, shifting his weight and glaring at the two pirates.

“She's right. Big Mom has a lot of territory. It'll take months for us to search each of her islands if we don't work together,” Delemur frowns even as he speaks, disliking the idea of working with the men who'd found his sister. What even were the three of them?

“What is she to you?” Tomura demands and regrets it the second both men look at him like he was an idiot.

“We,” Mihawk begins and then swiftly corrects himself. He didn't want anything to do with Shanks right now, “I love her. She had no idea who I was when I found her, and it was…refreshing to have someone like that. We should move quickly. _ is in a delicate state.”

Tomura doesn't even want to think about what that means and glances at Shanks for the redhead’s answer.

Shanks shifts his weight, his hand falling from his sword once Mihawk had sheathed his own, but he keeps his distance. He gives Tomura a helpless shrug.

“My crew and I drifted close to her island one day, and we got to know one another. I can admit I was jealous of what Mihawk had with her, so we made it work. The three of us.”

Tomura doesn't know what to say to that, so he keeps his mouth glued shut. How the hell had his little sister pulled not one but two of some of the most powerful men on the Grand Line. He would ask once he found her.

“I'll use whatever resources the Navy can give me to find her,” Tomura says after a moment of rather awkward silence. He reaches into his pocket and takes out two mini transponder snails, and hands them to Shanks and Mihawk.

“I'll ring you if I find anything. I hope the two of you do the same.”

Mihawk dips his head in agreement, handing the snail to Perona and Shanks pockets his. They would work together to find you, even if none of them wanted to.

“I'm going to take a look around and see if we can't find something that'll lead us in the right direction,” Shanks says and whistles loudly to signal to his crew that it was fine to disembark from the ship now. He chances a glance at Mihawk, but the dark-haired man refuses to look his way. He frowns, guilt eating him up from the inside out before he lopes away without a word.

“Perona and I will head to the New World and begin our search,” Mihawk says and then he struts to the ship Perona had taken from his island, not bothering to look back at the Vice-Admiral. He can't bring himself to search the island. Dracule had seen the smoke curling into the sky, and seeing whatever remained of his home away from home would only make the hurt worse.

Tomura is left standing alone on the white sands, and he sighs heavily, looking out over the crashing waves. He smooths his white hair away from his forehead, and he murmurs to himself.

“Where the hell did they take you, Princess.”

~~~~~~

Thousands of miles away, you are escorted past hallways full of mirrors that make you feel dizzy if you look too closely. You cast your eyes back to the floor, one hand tangled in the fur of Hank's shaggy coat and the other holding Sukuna close to your chest. Your pets had chased after the men who had dragged you kicking and screaming from the tiny cave you'd forced yourself into.

Surprisingly, once they had seen that you were pregnant, the men had handled you with much more care and had even allowed you to take the cat and dog with you. Despite not wanting to leave, you had been much more willing once they assured you that you could have them. Hank and Sukuna were the only two things keeping you sane right now.

Sukuna wouldn't stop hissing, a constant low growl echoing in the hallway. His tail was poofed, and he glared at everyone with furious golden eyes. Hank fared no better, his hackles raised, and his ears pulled up. He stayed pressed against his human’s legs as they walked, unwilling to let you out of his sight.

It wasn't long before your group stopped at massive double doors that creaked open. You waltz inside, relieved at the lack of creepy mirrors, but that relief disappears the moment your eyes lay on who hovers in the middle of the room. She is the biggest human you've ever seen, sitting atop a cloud that glares down at you.

Beside her, another massive man stands. He has deep purplish hair, and the bottom half of his face is covered in a black and white scarf. He wears an open vest, and you can see a tattoo running down his exposed chest.

“It's about time you showed up,” Big Mom’s booming voice startles you, and you cut your eyes up to look at her. She grins down at you, her smile wicked as she looks you over.

“Such a pretty young thing. You'll make a nice wife for my son Katakuri. Don't you think so?”

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat @atricksterwithwings @black-swan-blog27 @breadedloafs @enpvrirnce @gottalovethefandom

#reader insert #fanfic #one piece #fluff #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #shanks x reader #opla mihawk #mihawk x you #mishanks x reader #mishanks #opla shanks #Peppermint Tea #charlotte katakuri #one piece x reader

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snippychicke · 7 months

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It's Just Business-- Part Two

Ya'll have seen that gifset of this man's smile, right?

Addicting.

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen so far

Pairing: Sanji/Reader

Warnings: No real warnings, but god, I hope you like pining

Summary: You felt like you had known Sanji forever, considering your family had been the main merchants Zeff used to supply the Baratie. You had a small crush on him, but knew it was hopeless considering you were the one woman he didn't seem to pine over.

It was fine. Or so you thought until you ended up on the Going Merry as a bookkeeper and supply manager. Being around him 24/7 was a lot more difficult than just a few days a week.

(Please note 》°《 denotes a scene in the past while -*- will be a regular scene break. Because yeah, I like my non-linear story telling.)

Masterpost | Ao3

Voyage

You had been raised on a ship. Solid land was unnatural to you compared to a swaying wooden deck. And you were well aware Sanji was the same, except one crucial thing: the Baratie was free-floating for the most part. Sailing and navigating had not been a large part of the chef's education.

And looking at Luffy, Zoro, and Usopp, you had your doubts it had been theirs. None of them struck you as experienced sailors. "Do any of you know how to sail?" You bluntly asked as you watched them prepped their ship to leave the Baratie after Nami.

You definitely hadn't followed Sanji down to the docks, your stomach in knots because he was leaving the Baratie. And joining the upstart pirate crew that had both fought the legendary Mihawk and the infamous Arlong. It didn't bother you. You weren't worried at all.

It was bullshit and you were fuming underneath all the fear you couldn’t shake. There were too many emotions that it was far easier to just bottle them up and focus on the problem at hand.

As you suspected - and feared - none of the men looked completely confident as they shrugged their shoulders. "Kinda?" Was the general consensus between the three men you didn’t know, which is not what you wanted to hear.

You looked at Sanji, who had already stepped onto the deck. But he was hardly helpful considering he simply shot you an impish smile as if he knew what you were thinking and was all for it. The look in his eyes was virtually daring you. 'Come on. You know you want to.'

Granted, you weren't even sure what you were doing. Or why. (You did, you just didn't want to admit to it.)

You groaned as you rubbed your forehead. Men. "Okay, follow up question. Do you even know where Arlong's base is?"

Luffy lightened up at that question, giving you a moment of hope. "I don't, but Binky does!"

Binky?

To your horror, the wanna-be pirate captain led you along with the others into the cabin where a black bag sat on a table. Before you could even question what was going on, Luffy pulled a decapitated head out of that bag. "Bendy knows where Arlong is, and will tell us as long as we get his body back!"

You had a moment of severely doubting Luffy’s sanity before the head moved. And spoke, glaring up at Luffy. "The name's Buggy. Not Bendy, not Blinky, Buggy."

The only reason you didn't fall over or bolt was Sanji's arms suddenly wrapping around you as soon as you screamed, pulling you close in an attempt to reassure you.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

The clown's grin grew, amused by your reaction. "Hello to you too, gorgeous. You boys didn't waste any time replacing the redhead, did ya?"

"She's not replacing Nami," Luffy stated firmly, which was at odds with his smile. "But she's going to help us rescue her, right?"

Rescue. Right. Because that is what comes jumping to your mind when you heard Nami apparently left with the towering fishman of her own volition, as well as a map to the Grand Line. Why was no one else freaking out over the living bodiless head?

"She's one of the best sailors I know," Sanji said, his grip tightening slightly around your waist. "And could punt your head off the deck like a ball if you insult her again."

Oh. You felt a blush rising to your cheeks despite yourself. "And she is right here and able to talk for herself. Besides, I know where the Conomi Islands are, it's just that most avoid it like the plague since Arlong took over." Including yourself. Because you liked living.

Gods only know why.

-*-

Which is how you ended up as the in-term navigator of the Going Merry, and seriously considering jumping overboard after just a day of sailing with the Strawhat pirates.

Luffy was both obnoxiously optimistic and bullheaded. It probably wouldn’t be too awfully bad if he wasn’t determined to find out what your dream was, and the fact he was absolutely certain you were now part of his crew.

You never agreed to anything of the type. You just didn’t want the idiots - mainly your idiot - getting lost at sea.

Zoro was decent on his own, except he was also being rather bullheaded for an idiot that was just on death's door days earlier. Either he was green with seasickness, or from the combination of blood loss and pushing himself too far. And then there was the fact that when he was around Sanji the two were constantly moments away from throwing punches. Well, kicks and swinging swords, to be more accurate.

Usually you would instantly be on Sanji’s side, but considering Sanji was currently smitten with Nami you were about ready to take one of his skillets and knock some sense into him as well.

You knew he flirted with girls. Ever since you were both teenangers, he'd been a massive flirt with every female-presenting person that walked through the doors of the Baratie. Every week you heard the stories that were romanticized by Sanji, incriminating from the rest of the crew, with the truth probably somewhere in between.

But you had never seen it up close like this. Usually it was an hour or two at kost before he moved on to the next.

Nami was beautiful; there was no denying that. You had met her briefly while you helped Zeff stitch Zoro up - being a merchant meant pirate attacks, which meant first aid was a necessity to survive - and you could get why he was infatuated. But god, it made you ill to hear Sanji be as determined as Luffy that she had done nothing wrong and was incapable of being a traitor. You weren't jealous. Not at all. Nope.

Then there was a talking head of Buggy that was thankfully usually handled by either Zoro or Sanji. And actually, Usopp was pretty decent other than either being a compulsive liar or just enjoying telling tall tales. Sailed the East Blue by himself? You called that bull within seconds of watching him trying to manage the sail. You'd be surprised if he had more than a week's worth of sailing experience.

-*-

You managed the helm, noting the direction of your trusty compass when a shadow fell over you. Your stomach twisted, hoping it wasn’t Luffy again asking how much longer.

"Figured you could use a little afternoon snack," Sanji offered when you looked up, causing a moment of relief. There was no denying the warmth that filled your chest at seeing him, or to see an assortment of finger-foods --each more appetizing than the last-- on the small plate he offered.

"I shouldn't… I'm still pretty full from lunch." Yet they looked so good, and smelled even better. But god, you had eaten so much at lunch, far more than you usually did. One of the perks of having a chef aboard instead of deciding how much energy you wanted to expend on cooking.

Sanji didn't seem convinced as he leaned closer so he could faux-whisper: "If you don't accept them, I'm pretty sure Luffy will inhale them before you get a second chance."

Fair. The boy had an appetite more legendary and unbelievable than his gum-gum fruit abilities. He was thin as a rail, but you had seen him eat more than his own weight already.

As if sensing your waivering judgment, Sanji picked up one of the treats and held it to your lips. You hope you didn't look as red as you felt as you hesitantly opened your mouth to accept. Especially when you glanced up at his eyes while you did so. It did nothing well for you seeing that pleasant faint smile on his face as he fed you, his fingers brushing your lips slowly and softly.

"I'm glad you're with us," He confessed as he pulled his fingers away. "I'd hate to have to rely on a clown for directions."

You smiled despite a full mouth, taking your time to enjoy your treat - and maybe enjoying watching him relax against the nearby rail, indulging in one of the finger-foods himself. Seeing him relaxed and set against the open sea, wind teasing his blonde hair was quite the sight if you were to be honest.

"Well, that's what friends do," you offered once.you were finished. "Back each other up even if the other is being incredibly stupid."

His eyes narrowed though his expression was playful. Which did not help your heart fluttering any.

Oh yes, this was a very stupid idea. On both parts.

You were not going to join once they got their navigator back. No way. You couldn’t stand being around him day in and day out.

》°《

You frowned as you saw Sanji leaning against the railing overlooking the main floor of the Baratie, the young teen looking like a love struck idiot. You adjusted the plastic tote of used dishes and silverware in your hip as you approached, looking over the railing.

A group of girls - probably a few years older than you - sitting at one of the center tables. Dressed in beautiful gowns, hair sleek and shiny, and all laughing as they talked amongst themselves.

It had been the running theme since your parents left you in the care of Zeff while they sailed to Logue town for some convention - apparently not trusting you enough to take you to one of the largest cities of the East Blue.

You weren't bitter. Not at all.

"You'll just make a fool of yourself," You sighed as you returned to clearing the empty table from the lunch rush, well aware of Sanji's eyes glaring holes into your back.

"What do you mean by that?" He shot back as he followed you, setting out new dishes and silverware from his own tote.

"I mean exactly that. If you go down there and even try to talk to them, you'd end up making a fool of yourself. They'll be laughing their heads off."

"They would not," He defended hotly. "And I would not make a fool of myself. I'd be absolutely charming."

You laughed at that. Stuck between a kid and a teen, Sanji was anything but charming in your eyes. He had reached a growth spurt, losing some of the baby weight from when you had met him, but now looked like a bean pole with gangly limbs. "Sure, Sanji. Be honest, you haven't even kissed a girl before. How are you going to sweep them off their feet if you have no idea what you're doing?"

It was fun to watch him turn bright cherry red as he spluttered. "You haven't exactly kissed anyone either, I bet!"

You could feel your own cheeks brighten as you huffed. "That's besides the point! You're the one doing the fawning, not me."

There was a lull of silence as you worked until the rest of the tables were cleaned and ready for the dinner rush. "You know," Sanji said as you both surveyed your work. "There's an easy solution to our problem."

You frowned as you looked up at him. "Our problem? I wasn't aware we had a problem."

There was a pink tinge to his cheeks as he avoided your gaze, itching his neck nervously. "The fact we've never kissed anyone."

Oh.

You blushed as you looked away. "I think that's more of a you problem, more than anything." Still, your stomach twisted with butterflies at just the mere thought. Surely he wasn't implying what your mind was jumping to.

"I'm just saying if we kissed each other, then that's one less thing to worry about."

Nope, he was.

Up until this point, that was something that you had never worried about. Yet here you were, questioning if that was something a girl your age should be worrying about. You hadn't been around a lot of other people in your age group, except Sanji really.

Did those girls down there already have their first kiss? Were they talking about their boyfriends or girlfriends or whatever?

You screwed your eyes shut, annoyed at the sudden onslaught of questions your own mind was coming up with.

"Fuck it," You swore - your parents were going to regret letting you live on the Baratie for a few months because of your new colorful language.

You sharply turned towards Sanji, grabbing his tie and tugging him closer to press a kiss to his mouth

Well, you were aiming for his mouth, but being as flustered as you were, it was equal parts his lips and cheek. But it still counted, right?

"There, happy?" You bit out despite the burn in your cheeks as Sanji stared at you. It didn't help that he looked as startled as you had ever seen him.

"Y-you…" He stammered for a moment before his brain finally started to work, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "You call that a kiss?"

"My lips touched yours!" You defended huffily. "So yes, I do."

“That was not a kiss,” He argued. “At least, not one that counts.”

“Oh? And who made you the kissing expert?”

As if you weren’t feeling flustered enough, Sanji stepped closer as he cupped your cheek, pinning you with those light blue eyes of his. You couldn’t move as he leaned in, gently pressing his lips to yours. And, okay, it wasn’t bad, but you still didn’t quite see the appeal of it as he pulled away. Granted, the way your heart was pounding painfully in your chest didn’t help matters much.

“That’s a kiss,” He murmured after a moment.

Your anger rose to protect your honor as you took a step back, “Same thing as what I did. Just slow, like yourself.”

The soft expression on his face changed as he crossed his arms, “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy it?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I mean, it was nothing special.” Honestly, him touching you had made your heart quicken more than the actual kiss itself. It was nothing like the earth-shattering experience your books made it out to be.

“Let me try again,” He insisted, causing you to scoff.

“No,” You stated, already turning away. “You got two kisses, that’s more than enough.”

Sanji whined your name as he followed you back towards the kitchens. “C’mon. You’re practically saying I’m a bad kisser!”

You smirked to yourself as you shot a look over your shoulder. “Well, I mean….”

The stricken look on your face made you laugh. “I’m kidding, Sanji. It wasn’t bad. I just don’t see the appeal. You’re a playboy, so of course you’d like it. I’m just different from you.” “I’m not a playboy,” He huffed. “Finding women beautiful does not make me one of those. Once I find the one, that’s it. I just… have to find her, is all.”

#one piece #one piece live action #sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji

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mountain-in-springtime · 8 months

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pairing: jake x fem!reader | word count: 4.4k | warnings: swearing, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls) | my masterlist

summary: an unexpected visit from your ex turns into something more

author’s note: so first things first this is named after the matchbox twenty song but let’s not focus on that!!! I started this fic forever ago and brought it up multiple times, but it’s finally here!! i’m really happy with how it came out, but also i’m new to writing smut so sorry if it’s not the best!! ALSO this is my longest fic by far AND it’s my tenth gvf fic that i’ve posted here so yay!!! also the second half of this is not proofread so sorry

*******************************************************

The harsh knock against your door rang through your apartment, pulling your attention away from the movie playing loudly on the TV in front of you. An irritated groan fell from your lips as you dragged yourself off of the couch and plodded to the door, swinging it open. Upon seeing the man on the other side, you silently cursed yourself for not looking through the peephole.

“What are you doing here, Jake?” you asked, your voice hostile as you eyed him with a cold glare.

A small smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, but he at least had the decency to try and hide it. “Hello to you, too,” he greeted, his voice too even for your liking, “I just came to get my shirt. The navy one with the buttons, y’know?” He spoke with his hands, and his fingers trailed along the buttons of his half-open shirt, drawing attention to the bare skin of his chest. The question caught you off guard, and upon your lack of response, his eyes peered into your apartment, his body leaning forward, but he was careful not to cross the threshold.

After a long pause of awkward silence, you sighed defeatedly and stepped back, allowing him to walk through the door. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen it, but I can look, I guess,” you grumbled and turned away from him. You marched into the living room and grabbed the remote, making sure to make a big show out of pausing your movie and tossing the remote back down.

Your eyes anchored to Jake as you faced him again. He leaned against the kitchen counter and nonchalantly looked about the room. It was a sight that was so familiar to you, but now it left a deep, twisting knot in your stomach. He shouldn’t look so comfortable here, and you blamed yourself for ever giving him the chance to be. Still, you couldn’t deny the lingering fondness that fell upon you when you saw his handsome frame relaxing in a place that was so intimately your own. If you looked at him long enough, you could almost feel all the memories of hurt fade away, unearthing the happiness you once shared together.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” his question rang in your ears as it pulled you from your daze and reminded you exactly who you were talking to. He looked at you expectantly and raised his eyebrows as he waited for an answer.

You rolled your eyes. “That ship sailed a long time ago, Jake,” you seethed, sending him a glare that could kill.

He simply shrugged and relaxed even further against the countertop. “Just thought I’d ask. Since you kept looking my way, y’know?” he quipped.

You scoffed, not even dignifying him with an answer. You knew he was only trying to get under your skin, and unfortunately for you, he was doing a damn good job at it.

“I’m gonna go look in my closet,” you stated as you walked towards your bedroom before turning back and looking at him again, adding sternly, “Stay there.”

You watched as he held his hands up in mock surrender. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he remarked, and it made you want to march over to him and knock the smirk off of his lips. Instead, you just let out a low groan and stomped down the hallway. You heard him call out a sarcastic, “You say something, doll?”, which you ignored, deciding that humoring him would only make his behavior a million times worse.

As you reached the door to your bedroom, you threw it open and stormed to your closet. You pulled the worn, dangling string, turning on the closet light as you began to rifle through the clothes hanging inside. A stream of curses and grumbles fell from your lips, your frustration barely contained, and to make matters worse, you still couldn’t find his stupid shirt.

When you reached the end of your rack of clothes you let out a loud sigh. Great. You tilted your head back, moving to run a hand over your face when something caught your eye. On the top shelf of your closet, you noticed a familiar back brim peeking out. Jake’s hat. You groaned again but thought that at least he would probably leave you alone if you gave him the hat. Then you could go back to living separate lives and acting like nothing ever happened between you, the way normal exes do. But then again, nothing about Jake was exactly normal.

With a huff, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes and reached for the hat. After a few moments of blindly grabbing atop the shelf, your hands closed around the brim. Unfortunately, when you pulled the hat loose, it sent an avalanche of shoeboxes and forgotten keepsakes tumbling down onto the floor, knocking you to the ground and earning a loud yelp from you.

“Fuck,” you grumbled as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You started to move boxes aside, trying to get up before handling the mass of clutter around you when you heard footsteps coming from behind. As you turned to the doorway, you saw Jake sauntering into the room. He tried and failed to hold back a laugh as he saw you on the floor.

“Had a little accident?” he asked as he moved to you. He continued to chuckle to himself as he grabbed boxes, carefully closing them and setting them aside in a neat pile.

You groaned. “I recall telling you not to come in here, Jake,” you said with a glare that would turn anyone else to ice but only made Jake smile wider.

“Oh, I’m sorry, princess,” he retorted, “Didn’t realize helping you was some sort of grand offense.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his remark. “I don’t need you to help me.” Your hands closed around the box he was holding, ripping it from his grip. The gesture caused him to let out a loud, irritated groan, which made you smile. It was a short-lived victory, though, as the contents of the box flew across your bedroom floor, spilling out pictures of you and Jake that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away quite yet. Mortified, you scrambled to pick up the photos before he even had the chance to see what they were.

It seems you weren’t fast enough, however, as Jake bent down, lifting up one of the snapshots, staying silent for a moment as he studied it. Finally, he spoke. “Looks like someone misses me,” he said, smirking down at you as he turned the photo around in his hands.

You quickly rose and snatched it from his hands. “Shut up. I was gonna throw that away, anyway,” you lied as you bent down to gather the polaroids that littered your floor, gracelessly shoving them back into their box.

He looked at you with a wide grin and crouched down to your level. “Hey, baby,” he cooed as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We had some good times together. I’m sure it’s a little hard to forget.” His hand reached out and slowly wrapped his fingers around your wrist, his touch searing hot on your skin.

“Well, those times are over, Jake. I moved on,” you answered as you ripped your hand free from his hold and got up from your place on the floor, desperate to distance yourself from him. You turned your attention to the rest of the clutter that littered your floor and pretended to be busy shoving hats and pieces from old Halloween costumes back into your closet.

“Then why are you hoarding a box of our old pictures, baby? Surely someone as strong as you wouldn’t have a problem tossing them out, hell, maybe even burning a few” he challenged. The tension in the room immediately thickened, and you stopped dead in your tracks. When you looked at him, his eyes met your own with an infuriatingly smug expression. He caught you off guard, and he knew it.

“I…,” your brain scrambled to find an answer, something to say to get him off of your case, to make him think that you had the upper hand, but words completely failed you. You stared at him blankly, your cheeks flushed and your lips parted.

He took a step towards you, and you could practically feel the space between you getting smaller with every movement. “And another thing,” he started, “if you’re so ‘over me’, then how come you can’t keep your eyes off of me? I saw how you were staring at me in the kitchen. Don’t deny it, babe.”

You swallowed thickly as he looked expectantly at you, waiting for your answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered out, and you hoped with everything in your being that he believed you.

A small “tsk” fell from his lips as he shook his head at you. “Lying’s not gonna get you what you want, princess,” he teased, his hand reaching out to rest along your neck, his thumb grazing your skin carefully.

You pulled back from his touch and glared at him. “I don’t want anything from you, Jake. Not unless it involves you leaving this apartment and staying out of my life forever,” you seethed, trying to keep your voice even.

“I don’t believe you,” he answered, a sly grin on his face, “But you’re a big girl. It’s your call. Just look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me. You do that, and I’ll be gone. That’ll be that.” He eyed you intensely, and you could feel the heat in your face rise. He was challenging you, daring you to deny him, and despite your pride and your anger, you just couldn’t do it.

You stared at him in silence, fighting against your mind and heart until a small, pitiful, “…Jake,” fell from your lips in a whimper.

He smirked and leaned forward. His hand wrapped firmly around your waist while the other gripped the back of your neck, pulling your face until it was an inch away from his. “That’s what I thought,” he whispered as he crashed his lips onto yours.

An uncontrollable sigh of relief escaped you as your fingers came up to lace through his hair. You wasted no time breathing in his scent and melting into his touch. You spent so much time holding onto the hatred and hurt you felt that you forgot how badly you wanted him. You forgot how good he could be.

His touches were hungry and impatient. His hands gripped your flesh roughly, pulling you close and leaving bruises in his wake. You moaned and gasped against him as his kisses consumed you, all teeth and tongue and aggression. He was beyond lingering feelings and simple desire. His thoughts of you in this moment were consumed by a hungry, insatiable need.

Your hands moved to grip his, pulling them toward your center. You felt his calloused fingertips toy with the hem of your panties that peeked out from under your jeans, but they remained there. You whimpered in frustration, trying to move his touch further down, but you felt him resist, and it was clear that this was going to be happening on his terms.

“What do you want, baby?” he breathed out between kisses, “Tell me. Use your words.” He smirked at you through half-lidded eyes, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but, eager to get what you wanted, you swallowed your pride, mumbling softly, “I want you to touch me, Jake. Please.” Your eyes met his, desperate and pleading, but you could tell by his returning gaze that this wouldn’t be so easy.

His lips quirked up in a smug grin as his eyes raked over you, taking in the obscene beauty of your swollen lips and red cheeks. “Aw, is that what you want, honey? My touch? You want my fingers on you, in you?” he asked, his voice teasing.

You nodded timidly, hoping that he would show you a little mercy and give in to your desires, but you knew that was just wishful thinking.

He smirked wickedly at you. “Alright, princess. Then apologize,” he commanded.

A small squeak of disappointment left you. “...Apologize?” you asked, confusion and frustration coloring your voice.

He nodded, “Mhm. Tell me you’re sorry, and then I’ll maybe give you what you want.” You could feel his fingers fidgeting with the elastic of your underwear, making you restless beneath him.

“…Jake,” you whined, “please…” Your eyes bore into his, hoping desperately that he’ll give in and spare your ego, but as his hands slowly began to pull away from you, and he gave his head a small shake of disapproval, your desire overtook your pride.

You grabbed his hand, pulling it back to your skin. “Wait,” you whimpered. A small, ragged breath fell from your lips. “I’m sorry.”

A slow, mischievous grin bloomed on his face. “Sorry for what, princess?” he asked. You could tell how much he was enjoying torturing you, and it only made you want him more.

You let out a pitiful whimper as apologies tumbled from your lips before your brain could stop them. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I’m sorry for playing so hard to get, for being so mean to you, for starting all those fights with you. It was stupid, and I was selfish. I should have known better. I should’ve known that you’re the one for me. Only you. I’m sorry, baby.”

His eyes were blown with lust as he listened to your words. You were so fucking obedient, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t drive him wild. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours in a rough, hungry kiss before pulling back and whispering into your ear, “Only because you said it so sweetly, princess.”

In a flash, his fingers pushed past your hemline and started massaging your aching core. A loud cry of relief fell from your lips, and your nails left small crescent marks on his biceps as you clung to him. Your lips latched to his neck, leaving feverish kisses and small bites along the exposed skin of his throat. You were sure they would turn into small bruises by the morning, but you didn’t care. The feeling of his fingers working against you awoke a hunger deep inside you that hadn’t existed before or after him. “Oh, Jake,” you whined, “I missed you, baby”

A dark chuckle left his throat as he nodded. “I know, baby. I know,” you heard him coo, “Gonna make it all better, alright?” The pace of his fingers increased, curling deep inside of you.

You sobbed weakly, your head nodding along to his words, too far gone to process anything he said. Your head found its way against his shoulder and nuzzled into the crook of his neck as your body trembled under his touch. His movements were relentless, and you knew that he was doing all he could to send you over the edge, to remind you how good he can make you feel.

His effort soon paid off as the familiar, aching pressure grew deep within you, signaling your inevitable climax. Your whimpers became louder and more desperate as you gripped him tightly and rolled your hips against him. Deep groans poured from him as he could no longer contain his own arousal at your blissed-out state. His breath was hot against your ear as he mumbled to you. “You close, baby? Gonna let go all over my fingers, huh? Just like you used to?”

His words alone sent you over the edge, your body crumpling against his as your climax hit you in a strong wave. A loud, pitiful whimper ripped its way from your throat, and his name fell from your lips in a sacred mantra as the edges of your vision began to blur. You screwed your eyes shut and continued to grind your hips against his palm in desperate rhythm as you rode out your high, only coming back to your senses as the blinding pleasure subsided and finally left your body. As your eyes fluttered open, you lifted your head and saw the unmistakable look of satisfaction painted on Jake’s features. He held your gaze as he removed his fingers from you, earning a small whine in response. You watched wordlessly as he brought the digits to his lips and wrapped his tongue around them. His eyes drifted shut as he sucked on them, letting out a deep sigh as he pulled the fingers out of his mouth. “Just as sweet as I remember,” he teased.

Your hands flew to his neck, pulling him close in a deep hungry kiss. You tugged at his hair, and a grin pulled onto your lips as you heard him moan against you. His lips were soft as they worked in tandem with your own, and you could feel his hands roughly gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his arousal pressed firmly onto your thigh, a gasp falling from your lips in an uncontrollable reaction. In response, he ground his hips harder against you and moved his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you close as he growled into your ear, “You feel that, baby? You feel what you do to me?”

Before you could stop yourself, a loud, high-pitched whimper escaped your throat, and your head nodded in a silent answer to his question. A smirk appeared on his face as he looked at you, his eyes dark and full of lust. Only ten minutes earlier you would’ve wanted to wipe that look off of his face, but now you were casting all grudges aside, leaving hot kisses along his neck and down the exposed skin of his chest that peeked through his half-open shirt as you trailed lower down his body. Your hands moved to the waistband of his pants, moving to unbuckle his belt until his hand closed around your wrists, stopping your movements. “Uh-uh, princess,” he chided, “I don’t think so.”

You looked up at him, your brows knitting in confusion. “You don’t want…?”

“Oh, I do,” he answered with a dark chuckle, “but I think there’s something I want even more.” His eyes met yours, and a devilish grin played across his features as he moved his body forward, guiding you backward until you felt the back of your knees touch your bed. Your eyes flit up to his as you carefully lay against the bed. You brought your hands up to the hem of his shirt, allowing your fingertips to graze his lower stomach as he leaned over you, his hands planted on either side, caging you in. He smirked at your actions and looked down at you. “Want me to take this off?” he asked, his fingers moving to the buttons on his shirt.

You nodded shyly and gave him a quiet “please” in response as you held his gaze expectantly.

He laughed softly and smirked down at you. “All you had to do was ask, princess,” he cooed as he moved back to stand at the edge of the bed and made quick work of his shirt, allowing you to bring your hands up and push it off of his shoulders. Your eyes hungrily wandered the canvas of his bare torso, and you forgot any possible notions of being resentful towards him. With a gentle hum, you brought your hands out to touch him, his stomach twitching slightly as your fingernails grazed his tender flesh.

“Somebody’s sensitive, huh?” you teased as your eyes moved to meet his, your gaze half-lidded.

His hands quickly and firmly wrapped around your wrist, stopping your movements and removing the smug grin from your face. “Watch it, princess. Don’t wanna bite the hand that feeds you,” he warned, “Now, you wanna finish what you started?” His gaze drifted down to his belt buckle, and you wasted no time in reaching out. Your fingers fumbled with the leather strap until you finally undid it, quickly moving to the buttons of his jeans and undoing them. Soon after you had pulled down his zipper and began to shove the fabric down his legs. He quickly kicked them off, leaving him in only his underwear. Your eyes wandered to the significant tent in his boxers, and you couldn’t help the hot flush that crept upon your cheeks.

Your reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Jake, who let out a satisfied chuckle. His fingers moved to your shirt, toying with the hemline as he met your gaze, silently asking for permission. You nodded, and he made quick work of your top as he pulled it over your head and tossed it to the far corner of your bedroom. Impatient, you started to work on your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them. Jake laughed wickedly as he grabbed the rough denim and yanked it down your legs. “Feeling eager, baby?” he teased.

Shamelessly, you nodded in response. “I need you, Jake,” you whimpered, grabbing his hips and pulling him forward, grinding your clothed sex upon his own to further emphasize your point.

A deep, guttural moan left his lips as he pressed himself against you. “God, you’re gonna be the fucking death of me,” he murmured, letting out a shaky breath before he wrapped his arms around your back, unhooking your bra and casting it aside. His fingers came to your chest, hungrily grabbing and pawing at your tender breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers and drawing steady, high-pitched moans from you.

“Jake…” you finally whimpered out, your breath heavy and labored, “please, baby… I need you now.” Your fingertips wandered to the hem of his boxers, carefully dipping below the fabric and grazing his sensitive skin.

He let out a shaky moan before nodding his head. “Alright. I hear you, baby,” he cooed, “I ain’t gonna make you wait any longer.” He pulled his boxers down, freeing his hard length. Your mouth practically watered at the sight as he moved forward, carefully sliding your panties down your legs and throwing them to the side. He took himself in his hand, stroking his shaft as he lined himself up with your entrance. “You ready, baby?” he asked, “Gonna take all of me, just like you always did?”

Helpless and desperate beneath him, you nodded, shifting your hips forward in anticipation. As he finally pushed himself through your wet folds, your head fell back in pleasure and a loud cry of relief left your lips. You gripped his biceps tightly as you moaned out, “Oh, Jake… fuck, baby…”

He let out a mix between a chuckle and a moan as he finally bottomed out inside of you. His fingertips dug into your hips as he held you there for a second before slowly sliding out of you and pushing himself back in again, slowly working towards building a steady pace. You continued to mewl and whine below him with every movement of his hips, and he looked down at you with nothing but all-consuming lust. “You like that, baby? Is it as good as you remember?”

His mocking words only spurred on your arousal as you nodded your head and wrapped your legs around his waist. “Mhm,” you cooed between moans and whimpers, “Still the best fuck I ever had.” The sound of skin slapping on skin began to fill the room as your hips began to roll forward, meeting his own in a desperate attempt to chase your already oncoming high.

A loud moan fell from his lips as his head fell forward and his grip on you became almost unbearably tight, sure to leave bruises in the morning. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he groaned as his hips picked up their pace, “That’s what I like to hear.” His thrusts were merciless, pounding into you with an unmatched ferocity.

Your moans echoed through the room as you reached the back of his neck and pulled him down to you. You caught his lips in a searing kiss, taking all the passion and pleasure that he had and giving it right back to him. Your fingers wound tightly in the locks of hair that hung at the back of his neck as you felt the familiar knot growing in the pit of your stomach. Your hips began to buck into his wildly as your orgasm drew closer and closer. You pulled your lips away from his own for a moment to whimper softly to him.

“Jake, baby, I’m close. I’m so close,” you sobbed into the soft skin of his neck. Your words seemed to only heighten his arousal as he fucked into you even harder. He moved one of his hands to grab your own, holding it tightly.

He dipped his head down to the hollow of your ear, mumbling to you in a desperate stream of consciousness, “Fuck, I love you, baby. I never stopped. Tell me you love me, too. Tell me you love me while you come all over my cock, baby. Come on, lemme hear you say it.”

His moment of unmasked vulnerability threw you over the edge, your own hold on his hand tightening as you cried out. “Oh, Jake… Jake, I love you. Fuck, I love you… love you so much, baby,” you whined as you buried your face into him, taking on each wave of pleasure as his hips thrusted into uncontrollably until they finally stilled as he climaxed, spilling his seed deep inside of you.

Your name was the only thing on his lips as he finally pumped into you slowly a few more times, riding out what was left of his high. He fell on top of you, his body spent. You sighed softly as his lips delicately traced the skin of your neck, ghosting along the hickeys already forming there.

“Love you, baby,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You looked at his face, feeling nothing but pure adoration as you answered him quietly, “I love you, too.”

You laid that way with him until the both of you drifted off into a deep sleep. You knew that you would have a lot to discuss in the morning, but in that moment, everything felt okay, and as you looked down at Jake’s sleeping form, you knew that that was more than enough

taglist: @westernwoods @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @alwaysonthemend @andtherestishistory13 (send me an ask/dm me if you wanna be added to my taglist!!)

#mal writes #jake kiszka x you #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka #jake gvf #gvf fic #gvf smut

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

Text

kelp

summary: after being taken captive by a band of pirates, Y/n is caught off guard by a gentle soul that roams the barbaric ship.

warnings: Remus Lupin x reader, smut, angsty, pirate au, historical au, pirate!remus, reader is taken prisoner by the pirates, alcohol consumption, kissing, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, remus being a strong boi, desperate you have to stay quiet kind of fucking

word count: 3160

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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We have a code. No women, no children. So, today is your lucky day, miss. You get to live. For now at least…

The captain's words still rang in your ears, even now as you were fighting hard to stay awake, jerking every two seconds to rip yourself out of slumber. Even with cold and heavy manacles restricting your movements and effectively keeping you upright on your tired feet, sleep was still inevitable, no matter how uncomfortable or scared you were.

You were down in the makeshift brig below decks, it was really just some chilly quarters used for storage purposes but being chained to one of the thick wooden pillars standing tall by one of the forever-dampened walls made this room on the black sailed ship seem like as much of a prison as any to a young and wide-eyed lady such as yourself.

Suddenly, the heavy door creaked open, letting in a sliver of moonlight from above. Stirring, you jolted upright and warned the unwanted guest still completely enveloped in the shadows, “don’t come any closer! I swear, I-I’ll scream!”

“Miss,” the man's tone was careful not to spook you, “you forget you’re on a pirate ship.”

Suppose that was true. You had screamed yourself hoarse till the sun went down and not an eye had come down to check on you.

Stepping into the low light, you saw a young man. Catching you off guard, behind the scarred and rough exterior, peeped a pair of kind amber eyes. His unkempt chocolate hair was tied together with a thin leather cord and in his clearly yielding, upturned hands were what looked like a stale piece of bread.

“I just thought you might be hungry,” he offered, but when your frightened expression didn’t waver, he said, “tell you what,” and unholstered the small blade at his side, causing you to flinch, “how about I set this down right here,” letting it clang atop a barrel by the door, “I promise that is the only weapon on me.”

When you didn’t reply, he simply accepted that would be as much of a confirmation as he would get under these pressing circumstances.

“Here,” he held out the chunk of bread for you to take a bite, but when you simply eyed it mistrustingly, he added, “it’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Why should I believe you? You’re a pirate after all.”

Tearing off a corner of the crust himself, he chewed, “see, if it is, then I’ll join you in the grave.”

Holding his gaze, you slowly opened your mouth just ever so slightly. Lifting it up to touch your lips, you eventually bit down on the rough bread. Chewing on it for what felt like forever, it completely dried out your mouth and made the swallowing part even more difficult. Maybe because he himself just had a taste, “oh, here,” he got out his waterskin, “this might help,” and popped off the small cork.

Carefully helping you take a sip, the strong drink within it made you cough and nearly choke on the last remaining crumbs.

“Sorry,” he apologised for the unexpected beverage and instinctually caught the drop of rum that trickled down the corner of your mouth with his knuckle, unfortunately causing you to jump back at the contact.

After an apologetic glance, he aided you in the consumption of the rest of the simple meal, till no crumbs were left.

You didn’t remember seeing him on the boat when the rest of the pirates pillaged and slayed the small crew you travelled along with to get to your destination on the other side of the ocean.

As the man turned to leave, you finally spoke up, “wait,” and he turned to look at you, “what’s your name?”

“Moony, miss,” he answered out of habit, but then corrected himself, “or that’s what the crew calls me. My real name is Remus. Remus Lupin.”

As Remus sneaked down to see you, scavenged food in hand, every night for weeks, the primal desperation to simply settle your rumbling tummy gradually turned into something else. He became an unexpected comfort on this horrid ship.

Early on in his visits, he had pushed one of the heavy barrels over towards you, giving you a spot to sit on and a chance to rest your sore legs.

When noticing how you slowly began to relax more around him, he found his mouth running off as he helped you eat, telling you cautionary tales of creatures of the sea. Everything from mermaids to krakens flowed from the natural storyteller’s lips, legends that often stretched out long after you had had your last bite.

But tonight, when he wrapped up his dramatic fable and turned to leave, you yelped, “wait! don’t go! Please, not yet. Just stay until I fall asleep.”

Not needing to be convinced, he simply smiled and scooted a large crate over beside you. Feeling a couple of butterflies flutter around your belly as he moved it with surprising ease, you averted your gaze. As per usual, the sleeves on his tunic had been rolled up, making it easy for you to spot how his burly forearms flexed and danced under the strenuous work. Taking a deep breath, you tried to settle the flutter, though it didn’t help much when the crate finally came to a stop right beside your makeshift chair, and he hopped up to sit down right next to you.

“Just as long as I get back before people start to wake up, then I can stay here as long as you want,” he bowed his head to catch your eye, offering you a kind smile.

Feeling your shoulders relax, you asked with a low voice, “could you maybe tell me another one?”

The corners of his lips curled up once more and he breathed out, “sure,” leaning back against the wall, he found a spot on the ceiling to fix his gaze upon and let out a soft hum, thinking of what story to tell next.

When he finally began, it didn’t take too long for your tired neck to give in and bend down to rest your head upon his broad shoulder.

“What’s with all the yelling?” you asked as soon as you saw the face of Remus appear and before he even closed the door completely causing him to shoot you a nervous look, wordlessly telling you to lower your voice, and flinched to look around the outside before carefully closing the door behind him.

“They’re not yelling,” he scratched the back of his neck, “they’re singing.”

“That’s them singing?” you quickly silenced the burst of laughter that bubbled out of you, flashing your companion an amused yet apologetic look.

“Yeah, they were bored, so they decided to throw a bit of a party tonight.”

By now you were well aware of how he usually waited to sneak down to see you till the majority had fallen asleep and only the unperceptive night watch was there to fear. “Won’t they come looking for you?”

“No, they won’t notice that I’m gone, they are all drunk out of their minds.”

“Remus…” your tone made him avoid your gaze, “should you really be down here and not up there? What if they notice? I mean, why even are you down here? Wouldn’t you much rather have a night off, relax a bit?”

“Like I said, they’re drunk out of their minds,” he bit down on his lip and admitted, “I just got a bit nervous that’s all. Couldn’t stop imagining what a drunk group of pirates could come up with as entertainment when a beautiful lady was in their reach…” had he just called you beautiful or had you imagined that? “So, if you don’t mind, I’d very much like to just stay here and sleep by the door, just in case.”

“You're willing to miss a party in order to protect my honour?”

Finally meeting your gaze with just the hint of a smirk, he said, “who says I didn’t bring the party with me?” and conjured a bottle filled with dark liquid.

Could you call it a party if it was just two distressed people sharing a drink? Who knew, but at least you tried. Keeping your voices hushed, not wanting to call attention to your small gathering, he expertly helped you take small sips, being quite good at the motion by now.

The strong liquor warmed you up and quickly brought on a wave of hope and happiness that you gladly let wash over you.

In order to be able to hear each other's soft whispers, Remus had periodically moved closer and closer to your bound form. Leaning against the barrel, you rested your now slightly dizzy head against the beam you were chained to and let out a warm giggle at the amusing yarn Remus was spinning you.

Tilting your chin up again, this time he seemed to be standing even closer, causing your laughter to die down. The room was spinning, and you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or the proximity.

And in a flash, before he had even finished his sentence, you lifted yourself up onto your toes and pressed your lips against his.

It took him a long moment before he realised what was happening, but when he did, you felt his large hands glide over your waist, pulling you in closer. In the haze of it all, he had completely forgotten about your limited field of movement and began to sway back, pulling you with him.

You let out a small hiss as the manacles stopped you from straying any further.

“Ouch,” you stumbled back, making the chain slacken and giving your bound-up hands the opportunity to rest somewhat more comfortably against your heaving chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Shut up,” you caught just the essence of his tunic between your knuckles and tugged him closer, “please,” your short words came out sounding breathy and desperate.

The corners of his lips curled up into a genuine smile before he gently grabbed both sides of your face and bent down to kiss you once more. And in time, as his lips moved over yours and his tongue snuck its way past to dance across your own, you felt the terror that was your reality slowly drift away.

Sliding his palms down your body, he tugged at every inch of your dress just to somehow ground himself in this dreamlike moment. As he pressed his body impossibly close to yours, even through the fabric of your dress, you felt the rapidly growing bulge, chasing after your warmth like a compass searching for its north.

As he instinctually began to grind against the fabrics of your skirt in pure desperation, you let out a gasp and parted from the kiss. Halting his movements, he stayed there, completely close to you, nose still ghosting against yours as he searched your eyes and watched as they grew heavy at the thunder he had started inside of you. And after many heavy shared breaths, when he finally confirmed the obvious storm that was brewing under your skirt, he pushed back in, kissing you passionately once more.

Palming your bottom through your dress, he quickly grew more desperate and started to gather up the material. Sneaking a hand in from behind, palm curving around and under your ass, he supported some of your weight with a tense forearm as his fingers found your weepy cunt.

As his bullying fingers found your swollen pearl, your side of the kiss faltered, letting out a shaky moan instead. Your lips were parted, and your glistening tongue still rested against your bottom lip.

Slowly, he stuck out his own and swiped it over yours, swapping even more saliva and licking up your whimpers.

Sinking his fingers into your waiting hole, his dark eyes bored into yours as he mocked, “oh, now who needs to shut up, huh?”

You tried to answer, you really did, but only more mewls escaped your lips, mixing in with the sloppy sounds of his fun beneath your skirt, as your heavy lids fought to stay open.

Placing a small peck on your parted lips, he reluctantly withdrew his fingers and pleaded, “come on darling, we have to stay quiet,” swiftly lifting up one of your legs, resting it nearly all the way up on one of his shoulders.

Biting down on your lip in an attempt at stifling your sounds, you saw him quickly free himself from his breeches. Since your dress had bunched up around your waist and he had already cracked you wide open, nothing stood in the way of his bulbous tip to brush up against your drooling folds. Feeling the head nudge up against your clit, you felt his right hand flex and fondle your ass, moving your frame against him.

But as he bucked his hips, stuffing you full in one fell swoop, his left palm came up to clasp over your lips, silencing your shuttering sob.

“Please stay quiet,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours, “don’t let the others find us, I beg of you,” you could easily hear how hard he tried to stifle the filthy sounds that so desperately wanted to escape his lips, “don’t let them take you away from me, please, I’ve barely even had a taste.”

You tried to keep quiet, but with every hard thrust of his hips, whimpers bubbled out of you and vibrated against his rough palm. Digging your fingers into his shirt, loathing the fact that it was the only part of him within your limited reach, you felt him kiss your brow and bathe you in quiet shushes.

Clenching your jaw, you finally managed to swallow most of your moans, although when he pulled back and removed his hand, the eye contact that he ignited made the mission to stay silent seem unbearable.

Scooping you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing, nearly folding you in half in the process, the gentle pirate then continued to bounce you up and down his rock-hard length, sinking impossibly deep within your fluttering hole.

How could you feel this good when you were being held captive on a ship seemingly sent from hell itself? Why did you have to be in the wrong place in order to find something this right?

Within just a few more overwhelming flashes of him repeatedly impaling you on his dick, the floodgates opened, and you creamed all over his cock, soon thereafter, his movements eased down and you felt his own essence begin to leak down your inner thighs as he needily kept on stuffing your sensitive hole, right until you assumed that his painstakingly slow thrusts might just pick up again.

Though when he finally pulled out and carefully set you down on your wobbly feet, leaving you a dripping and trembling mess, you heard his heartsick voice find your ear, “I promise I’ll get you out,” as he held you tight in his arms, “whatever it takes.”

“Did you get them?” you asked frantically as Remus returned. The visage of him in the doorway made you feel as if you might start crying out of pure relief that his risky stealth mission had gone to plan.

“Damn nearly woke up when I grabbed them, but yeah,” he proudly held up the captain's jingly ring of keys, “I got them.”

Rushing towards you, he reached up and worked to free you of your binds, huffing and cursing damn near every time the key didn’t match. But when one of them finally did fit and your left bruised wrist fell free, a triumphant breathy sound escaped your lungs, half a cry and half a laugh.

Feeling tears prick the corners of your eyes, within but a moment you had reached up and kissed him, effectively choking out your sob against his lips. Finally tangling your fingers into his soft hair, you heard the keys fall from his grasp and onto the floor in a soft clang.

Pulling back, you rested your forehead against his for but a moment before he recalled the task at hand and swiftly bent down to snatch up the keys, freeing you completely.

As soon as the last lock clicked open and before you could begin to blubber out an affectionate string of thanks, he informed, avoiding your teary eyes completely, “Smithy is asleep at the helm tonight,” his voice was shaky but sure, as if he was attempting to hold back tears himself, “so no one should notice you till you're long gone on the dinghy.”

“Remus…” you raised up a palm to cup his cheek, letting your thumb dance over his cheekbone, ready to catch any tears that dared to escape.

“No,” he kept his eyes on the floor and shook his head lightly, “I already know what you’re gonna ask and please, I beg of you, don’t.”

“Remus-“

“No, I can’t go with you,” he snapped, finally meeting your gaze, “I am a wanted man. Even though the claims aren’t true, it is still my head the bounty is still out on and not the actual person who killed them.”

He had previously told you about how after a mysterious murder, his hometown had turned against him, pinning evidence against him, and forcing him into the barbaric life he now led, simply in order to not rot in prison for the rest of his days for a crime he did not commit.

“They’ll hang me if I go back there,” his fingers gently wrapped around your bruised wrist and pulled it down, removing your hand from his cheek, “do you know what the punishment is for hiding a fugitive? They’ll probably hang you as well if you try and help me, for all I know!”

But with your heart burning for him the way that it did, his warning didn’t overrule your stubbornness and you exclaimed, “then let's go somewhere else! Someplace where no one can find you, where it’s just the two of us.”

Almost taking a step back, he blinked down at you, “…you’d really do that?”

“I would do anything for you,” you caught both of his hands in yours, “I don't-… I don’t have anyone… not anymore…”

That was the reason why you had been on that ship the pirates pillaged. Your parents had gotten sick and soon thereafter had died, leaving you to be shipped off to some far-off relative that you had never even heard of. Someone who was undoubtedly going to marry you off as soon as you landed on shore, just to get you out of their hair.

“You have me,” he promised you, a single tear slowly rolling down his cheek, glistening as it caught in his scraggly beard, “from now until the day I die, you will always have me.”

“And I you.”

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fluffycalamari · 1 year

Text

One Piece Relationship Headcannons

Content warning: Fluffy!!

Characters included: Luffy, Sanji, Ussop

Characters you can expect in other parts: Zoro, Law, Kid, Killer, Bartolomeo, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Buggy

Luffy

I feel like Luffy wouldn't know how to express his attraction and love for you properly. Like he loves you so much he can't physically express it the way he wants to.

He's definitely asking you if he can take your food instead of outright taking it. I can also see him offering you a LITTLE bit of his food.

Definitely gives amazing hugs

A very affectionate partner

Very blunt; doesn't matter whose around he will tell and possibly yell about how gorgeous/handsome/attractive you are.

I can see him doing this goofy little thing where he'll act like he's dying very poorly for your affection like:

"Oh noooooooo!" luffy shouts, clutching his chest; falling to the ground all in dramatic fashion. You snicker at the scene while the other straw hats continued on with what they were already doing. "I think..." he throws his hands to his forehead, palms facing the crystal clear sky. "...I think it dying!! If only...." The goofball coughs a few times too many. "[Name]!" He snaps his head to you when he says that, eyes wide, tounge hanging out. "You can save me! With a kiss! A couple of kisses and I'll be better instantly!!" Who are you to deny saving the life of your captain!? You trot right on over to him, lie on top of him and pecker his face with kisses.

Sanji

Over the top boyfriend!!

He loves you, he craves you, he adores you, he'll love you even more if you're a tad bit obsessive!!

Will love if you offer to help him cook, he loves instructing you!! Will make an amazing teacher if you want to learn to cook!

Showers you in gifts and words of affirmation, anything you do is amazing.

Hype man!!

He's a bit protective, but he trusts you entirely!!

Now when I say obsessive I don't mean it in the "I'll kill anyone for you" type of fashion. Sanji may be down bad but he isn't insane. This is what I mean:

Moments like these are what the both you crave; the ocean was calm and you guys were currently smooth sailing. You and Sanji laid together completely tangled on his bed in the male dorms. Smothering eachother in kisses and praise you cup his face. "I wish I could buy an island; kidnap you, and we could live together happily forever!" You beam and his face goes red. The fact that you basically admitted that you want to have a life with him warms his soul. AND HES THE REASON FOR YOUR HAPPINESS?!?! he'll eat that shit THE FUCK UP!!!!

Ussop:

Very flustered boyfriend

He knows exactly how he wants to show undying love to you but gets embarrassed or flustered and it never goes the way he plans. It adds to his dorky charm!!

I think he'd be constantly jealous, idunno my Usopp senses are tingling on that one

He loves to tell you stories!! Whether they're true or not.

Will tell you stories to sleep!!

Gets very defensive and will actually shoot at sanji whenever he makes a move on you

"[Name] SWAAAAAA~" The blond shouted from across the ship, running towards you with horrifying speed. It was hot as hell today, so you opted for a tank top and a pair of usopps shorts. "Hello to you too." You chuckle at his behavior, there were hearts bulgding from his eyes; literally drooling over you. "Sanji please...you know they're with Usopp, you KNOW Usopp doesn't like when you do this!!" Chopper shouts, medkit in hand; knowing how the situation was going to play out. "Sorry prince, I'm happily with Usopp; you can stop drooling over me now," You lazily smile. The blonde now on his knees banging on the ships floor dramatically shouts "What does that long nosed bastard have that I don't!! How did he manage to win your heart when I'M RIGHT HERE!!! This is-ACKK!" Sanji howls in pain as you notice rocks being shot at him. Not small rocks either, simular to an snowball. Ussop fires back to back everytime Sanji opens his mouth; only stopping when he's outta rocks. Ussop walks up to you, planting a big fat kiss on your left cheek, smiling. "I have [name], Sanji, you don't!" He retorts as Chopper quickly runs towards the1 bruised cook tensing to his injuries.

My writing is actually so bad I need to improve LMAO

#vinsmoke sanji #usopp #ussop one piece #monkey d luffy #sanji x reader #usopp x reader #luffy x reader #one piece oneshot #one piece #the one piece is real #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #gender neutral reader #gender nuetral

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themotherofblood · 4 months

Text

chapter 6 | river of fire | d.t x reader x r.t | there is much to say

series masterlist | masterlist | previous chapter

a/n: so finally we pick up from where we left off, with some major changes, while I will always love the first original chapter of the brothel scene, i needed to do my girlie some justice

warnings: daemon being kinda gross.

synopsis: daemon returns to the red keep, to find a much grown version of his young cousin and his niece.

The court had finally come to weigh upon Viserys’s shoulders, three parchments, all borne by white ravens. One from the Stepstones, one from Storm’s End and the other from the Old Palace. The missed warmth and wrath were all returning at once.

One rebel posed as his brother, one nuisance his daughter and the other, his wounded pride— his ward.

“Preparations have been made your grace, at the cost to the crown, a feast seems appropriate given the occasion. The Targaryen seat brimming full again.” Lord Beesbury coughed out his accounting.

“In lieu, your grace. I don’t find a feast appropriate upon the way all three of them have disobeyed your wishes.” Otto Hightower interjected, “perhaps the costs could be levied elsewhere.”

“Nonsense! My family is together after many moons, we should celebrate, find a reason to indulge in cups,” Viserys chuckled, looking at Lord Strong for his support.

It was the truth, Daemon begun a war without the direct command of his King, aiding Lord Corlys in his excertions upon the Stepstones. Whereas Rhaenyra, dismissed an entire court of suitors, ending a very heftily paid for tour to an end; three moons and early— then there was you. Fleeing the Capital without the King’s consent, boarding a ship to return to your brother, the cause? Knew no one but one, Alicent and she too shielded the truth of the matter.

And thus the word spread, the dragons had come to roam the streets of King’s Landing again.

Rhaenyra was the first to return, anxiously awaiting the brunt of her father’s disappointment.

You must marry, it is your duty. You must bear heirs, it is your duty.

She had grown tired of what her possible duties would be when she herself couldn’t implement one condition at the Small Council table, a poser amongst the one’s with true power. She felt left out, unseen— and her father believed that marriage would fix her unmoving temper, like a man in her vicinity would make her womanly thinking turn to putty.

Not one, not one of those morons would come near to be a possible husband for her, but more so than that, she wished that her lover would understand so. That for her, you would forever be the true bearer of her unencumbered devotions, her unconditional love. Yet the weight of responsibility had weakened your shoulders too, for you heard the same but one less.

You must marry, you must bear children.

And thus the fight, a terrible arguement between two hearts that always beat as one.

“I would never be your wife! Ever.”

There had been copious tears and then a conspicuous letter, then followed silence and Rhaenyra��s tour.

Her heart wasn’t in this, she cared not if she ever loved her husband, she didn’t want one in the first place. Even beyond Viserys’s advise, a man? A man couldn’t be worth her happiness.

She is a dragon rider, the Heir to the Iron Throne. A measly being possessing a cock wouldn’t cut it.

Her ship’s sails had caught the wind, she stood on the deck, twiddling her thumbs as she laments of returning to a cold half of her apartments. Her ladies in waiting and plenty other friends to keep her company and yet she couldn’t muster an apology to make you return home. More than a year apart, without a word— the agony should have dwindled but it lingered, prickling around her heart every night as she slept alone.

Nyra held hope that she would catch a glimpse of your face once more, run her hands through your wild hair, feel the burning chill of your fingertips and the softness of your full lips. If the world around her was just quiet enough, she could feel it, a ghostly touch pressed to her lips— only to break her heart once more as she opened her eyes.

“Princess?” Criston Cole tore her attention from her wide eyed face staring down at the Blackwater.

“We should make landfall within the hour.”

She hums following with a nod, her lips part with hesitance.

“How do you think he will take it?” She seeks perspective, perhaps to find a lighter response of possibilities than the terrible ones that stirred in her head.

“Do you speak of how curtly you’ve rejected every suitor put before you or how you have abruptly ended the tour with three months remaining.”

Rhaenyra defensively blinks away, understanding the point Cole made but partly from the anxiety of it all, willing Syrax to fly to her and flitter her away to the Summer Isles or far up the mountains in the Vale.

She returned to the storm in her head, hearing the waves and the wind jostle by her ears, the smell of salt and fish in the air and chirping, wild chirping.

Her head bolted to the skies, a noise she hadn’t heard for years.

“Take cover!” Cristin Cole screamed, taking his princess down with him.

However Rhaenyra’s eyes were fixated upon the red creature that flew dangerously close to her boat.

Caraxes… Uncle Daemon.

The smell of this bustled city once again graced Daemon’s nostrils, the cheap mead of the people and the golden painted whores of his cherished brothels all celebrated the return of their beloved Prince.

Armour clad and crowned with his haughtiness adorned in his hip, he swaggered in the Throne Room, the familiar scent of pompous perfumed cunts made him sick and yet, the smirk of victory did not leave his face as he eyed down his brother.

Gods he looks sickly, gloved hands and his body weight leaning upon Blackfyre, a sword once meant to wield the firey might of House Targaryen was now diminished to be an old man’s cane. What had happened to him. They are but four years apart in age, and while one brother stood tall in posture and tore down enemies by the hundreds. The other a King, dressed in fineries to shield the dismantling resolution of his health— he reeked of illness.

He stops in front of his brother’s Kingsgaurd, arm outstretched with Craghis Drahar’s axe at the hilt of his palm, pointing it straight at Viserys’s face. A fine present that he drops by the King’s feet.

“Add it to the chair,” he blankly says before retreating, clutching onto the pommel of Dark Sister.

He could feel it, the plenty of gazes fixated upon the crown of bones and rubies placed on his head, there could only be one king.

While Daemon adored the amusing chaos he brought to court, the unpredictability— they all saw him a monster, he knew so. Defiant, vulgar and a rake through and through. He wouldn’t disrespect his brother, not in open court and not without reason.

Daemon knelt, head bowed as he presented his earned crown to his brother.

“There is only one true King, your grace.”

Viserys looked to Otto Hightower, the cunt, eyeing away at Viserys to reject Daemon’s honour— once more denying Daemon’s adoration for his brother to be a malformation of his envy or ambitions.

Viserys descended the steps, still eyeing his younger brother with contempt, or mayhaps doubt.

“Rise.” He ordered, patting Daemon’s shoulder.

Both of them stiff yet brothers once again untied, Daemon bowed his head, resting on Viserys shoulder as they embraced one another.

Daemon relished the embrace as the court around him erupted in an applause, he heard a distinct voice— whose eyes he had witnessed preening at him as he walked into the Throne Room.

rūs— Rhaenyra.

Daemon turns to her, leading himself out with Viserys as the court begins to disband. Viserys however shoots scorned look towards his daughter, a look Daemon frowned over, in Viserys’s eyes Rhaenyra could do no wrong. His curiosity caught a waft of tension and he wondered. What could his brother’s heir have concocted this time to truly face the wrath of Viserys’s rare occurrence of anger.

It seemed that his worries about him not being welcomed home had been for nothing, Viserys had already a feast awaiting for his brother in the Godswood. Wines and musicians, foods of his liking and women of his taste already lined the halls.

“No no, I will not hear it. You were always mother’s favourite!” Viserys chuckled as he reminisced stories of their shared youth with his young wife in presence.

A gauche scene really, and yet Daemon eyes seemed to have caught another serene sight entirely.

The head of silky silver locks, developing curves accentuated by the low hemmed cream gown and eyes that much looked like his, Rhaenyra, much had truly changed, and perhaps a salacious opportunity.

He wandered over to her, avoiding one droll conversation after the other.

“What have you done?” Daemon nudged her shoulder.

“Rejected every suitor in all of Westeros.” She hummed back, licking the sweetness of the lemon cakes off her fingertips.

“Well done!” He chuckled.

She looked to him, rolling her eyes, “well you have return, the prize of my father’s eyes.”

Daemon chuckled once more, shaking his head. His eyes finding a much familiar necklace adorning her neck, and just so— much had changed but nothing at all.

“You’ve changed.”

“As have you Princess.” Daemon looked around as the crowd in the Godswood dwindled.

“You seem calmer, more content perhaps.”

“You seem besides it.” Daemon countered.

“Well it seems my station provided me with ample— discrepancies.” She scoffs.

He sat there, in an odd sense of familiarity. Once again loved, not in the thrall-ish way he often seems to force it out of the common folk, but truly wanted. In the presence of his family, his only pride and at times joy.

Though one figure he registered had been missing all this while, a little dragon in viper’s clothing. The wild mess of dark curls and hesitant eyes— he’d have thought he’d see you first, and yet you were no where to be seen.

The air pulled against the loose wisps of your done up hair, you leaned against the barricaded balcony of your cabin, feeling the waves sway beneath as your ship sailed into the Blackwster Bay. The muddled dark colour of the ocean taking over the serene blue of The Sunset Sea, the murky waters leading it ugly way to once a place you dearly wanted to return to but were afraid too.

On the horizon you could see Rhaenys Hill, the gates of the city and the Bell Tower. Calling to you as you thought of all the possible earfuls of lectures Viserys was about to grace you with.

“How could you take off with my leave?”

Much had changed since you had left, both in reality and within yourself, you looked more a woman than a child, you had flowered. While showing to court in the robes you had on now would be just a little inappropriate. The Martell that you once pushed away, now towered with you with a spear in hand. Such was the Gods choosing you wondered, while your brother Qoren was the perfect portrait of Martell seed, leaving but just his olive skin a testament to your father. His brownish curls and striking purple eyes called to his Targaryen heritage even as he sat on the Martell seat to rule its lands.

You on the other hand, had paler skin than most of the Dornish kin, wide and expressive hazel eyes and ever since you flowered. Thicker streaks of silver that shone bright within the ample strands of your wild brown hair. A small token of your Valyrian heritage, of your mother Daenerys and her eyes. If one looked closely, a ring of lilac crowned the brown of your pupils.

Just this time as you returned, perhaps born anew to your role in the Targaryen dynasty. You were no longer timid, your tongue as sharp as the shot you could take with your bow and arrow and a mind far wise to irk the pompous men at court. Returning home did you good, as your people would call it. All though you were sure Septa Marlow would do naught but sneer at how mismanaged a young princess could become.

Fuck that.

Even as your ship anchored to a halt, with boats circling to receive you and your party. You couldn’t take your eyes off of the Red Keep. Would it have changed in the past year and half, would Viserys be healthier. You wanted to know this instant and yet no answers were brought to you.

Your old jeweled palaquin sat waiting for you, with four Targaryen guards at each pole hilt, you hiked your soft pink skirts to prevent any dirt staining the delicate fabric as you crouched to enter the vessel.

The city still smelled the same, perhaps worse— but it was home, your childhood. The swaying of the palaquin pulled you further into your thoughts, a sick anxiety twisted at your insides as you readjusted your dupatta.

There was barely a procession levied to your name as you stepped out to the courtyard, you heard Oberya scoff behind you; her arched brows scrunched to portray her dismay to the empty courtyard. You were a Princess after all, a name deserved the gathering of at least the Small Council if not the King himself.

“yahain vapis nahi ana chahiye tha rajkumari.” Oberya shook her head. We shouldn’t have returned Princess.

You sighed, hiking your skirts once more to walk behind the guards escorting you— no doubt to the Throne Room where you were certain you would hear an earful from the King himself or perhaps a monotone warning from Otto Hightower. A chill ran down your spine, imagining the steel purple eyes glaring down at you with the weight of his disappointments.

You stood by the door, reminding yourself to breathe, nice large huffs of breaths to fill your lungs and ease the sinking pit in your belly. You nod your head, letting your party and Oberya disperse to their own duties.

Your sweaty palm pushes against the massive heavy metal doors, the sound of creaking so loud against silent hallways it made your ears ring just a bit. The sight within was something you didn’t expect at all.

Empty, not a soul.

The gallery, the Throne and bleachers. Not a person here to watch you catch an earful from the King.

No one at all but one maid crouched by the statue of Jaehereys, scrubbing away with a sudded cloth.

“Where is everyone?”

She looked up, confused for a moment and then meekly replied.

“The Godswood, milady.”

You hummed, turning to the Throne once more before heading to the west doors.

You thought of all the reason’s as to why the entire court would have gathered in the Goswood, you wondered if Alicent was with child again. It couldn’t be though, when you left she had just announced the quickening of Haelena, it was too soon for her to be with child again.

Perhaps a marriage? Rhaenyra?

You prayed not, you had just returned. You didn’t think yourself capable to feel the burn of jealousy but you did, you imagined whatever lord hoped to wed her and then you imagined something untoward happening to him.

You stopped by the wooden doors, you could hear the bustle of the people in the gardens, the smell of meats and perfumes tickled at your nose.

The guards stood by the door appeared confused by the sight of you, your dressing extravagant enough for you to be a noble but they couldn’t quite place which one. You looked between the both of them as the hunched closer, whispering amongst themselves to place your identity.

“Princess Rhaenys?” One whispered.

“Does she look old to you?”

“It is the Princess of Dorne, now if you may.”

You flinched at the abrupt voice behind you, you turned to find Lord Strong looking down at you.

“Princess.” He greeted “We were not expecting you until tomorrow.”

“The winds were in our favour, I’m afraid.” You explained, smiling at the gentle favour of his hand.

The wooden doors opened as you were greeted to the blossoms of the gardens, many of which now thrived and grew from your efforts over the years.

Then it dawns the reason as to why the court had gathered, two heads of very prominent silver hair stood in the crowd.

You were frozen looking at them and everyone else was frozen looking at you.

In the surprise of it all, Alicent approached you first.

You in all regality, bowed on her approach. “My Queen.”

“Y/N!” She gushed, patting your shoulder as a formality when you’d rather embrace her. The warmth of her palm easing your nerves just a bit. You were home for now.

Daemon froze solid to the ground for a moment, a gentle tilt to his head as he registered who stood a couple feet from him. There were many stale bets he would have placed in his lifetime but he saw this coming from so far away.

Even as a little boy learning to spar over the summer and watching his cousin Rhaenys grow wisps of Targaryen silver with the black of her Baratheon head.

When he looked down at his niece, she shared the confusion he had— her head too finding answers to whatever this creature stood in front of them was.

The truth was in the blood, the magic that people sing about stood in person.

By the gods

The blue gowns changed for a soft summery pink, and the cut of that neckline— torture. So much to see but nothing at all.

You turned their way, eyes fixated on Rhaenyra for a moment and then around her before you turned to greet the rest of the Small Council members.

There was commandment, a tantalizing graze to how the shimmery fabric moved as you did.

It wouldn’t be appropriate, Rhaenyra knew it but her impatience grew as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

A year and a half— too long, too fucking long.

She was waiting to hear every footstep coming her way, from the jangles of your payal. The sway of your skirts coming to a stop a foot away from her and Daemon.

“My Princess,” you acknowledged “My Prince.”

There stood a moment of awkward silence between you and Rhaenyra until you turned to Daemon.

“I must congratulate you for your valiant victory in the Stepstone, cousin. One can only hope the poets sing about it till the end of time.” You smile at him.

That’s when he sees them, twinkling against the soft glow of the sun, the purple hiding behind the brown of your eyes. He never could place it, even as he fucked false silver haired whores in brothels, the image of Targaryen seed trampling the viper blood in your veins gave him so much joy.

Rhaenyra still remains silent, pulling the strings in her head to conjure up words.

In the Common Tongue, in Valyrian— just speak please!

Viserys however interjects, Alicent following behind him “What joy, my family; whole again!” He smiles with his teeth barred.

The smile persists cheek to cheek as he looks at Alicent, then to his brother and then you. Though as her turns to Rhaenyra, his eyes fall to disappointment. Reminding Rhaenyra yet again of how much trouble she was in.

Alicent with much grace however, shifted the conversation.

“Perhaps Prince Daemon would like a tour to the tapestries gifted to you by Novos and Qohor?” an innocent suggestion.

Viserys’s face scrunches for a moment as he slaps his hand around Daemon’s shoulder.

“Tell me, would you like to see the tapestries?” He breaks in to an ugly cackle.

Daemon, though oftentimes expected to be the one devoid any manner contains himself for the sake of his young sister by law. He hated her father, not her.

“Well I, would love to see them.” Rhaenyra sheepishly chimes in.

“Well then you should not deprive yourself, daughter.”

The curt sting could be felt from a mile away as she hangs her head in defeat.

“I would love to see them, care to escort me cousin?” You turn to Rhaenyra, smiling at her with an arm extended.

The two of departed from the court, rigidly walking hand in hand to the galleries. She couldn’t say anything out fear that you were still angry at her and her uneasiness amused you.

When the doors to the Grand Gallery finally closed she turned on her heel hastily.

“Forgive me, everything I said. I take it back.”

You looked up at her, this time tilting your head to the side, eyes purposefully stern. You held her hand and began pulling her to the closest wall and pushing her against it.

“I’m sorry.” She repeats.

“Shush.”

You pressed your lips against hers, taking her aback as you grab at the cotton fabric around her waist as you pulled her closer.

She hums, relishing the taste of your lips before finding her footing and turning you around— pressed up against the very lovely tapestry sent by Essosi envoys.

Only painted eyes in witness as you took your liberties with your lover.

“A dozen chambers,” a sing song voice tore the two of you out of your trance.

A deep pit of fear flutters in your belly as you pull yourself away from Rhaenyra.

“Haven’t I taught you better?”

Daemon stood at the door with his palm questioningly pointed at the two of you. His mind found a new source of amusement and by the gods he was going to enjoy toying this time.

THE NEXT CHAPTER IS SMUTTTTTTT. Lemme know if you wanna be on the taglist.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #desiblr #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #houseofthedragon #house targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra #rhaenyr #river of fire series #river of fire us

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bey0nd-1he-stars · 7 months

Text

A line of beauty - Nikolai Lantsov

Masterlist

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Wordcount: 1942

Summary: Based on this request

Warnings: none

A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything in FOREVER but I really haven't been able to. Also, I don't know how happy I am with this but it'll have to do. I hope you like it nevertheless <3

Walking on the ship, Tolya led the three of you to the captain’s quarters. He knocked quickly three times and when a “come in” was heard from inside he pushed the door open and ushered you inside. You, Alina and Mal all stepped over the threshold and into the carefully decorated room. A mahogany desk stood in the middle of the room and behind it, lounging in an elegant throne-like chair, sat a young man. He raised his eyebrows at the three of you before taking a swig of whiskey from a carved crystal glass.

“And what brings the sun summoner and her friends to my quarters?” he wondered from behind the glass in his hand. You raised your eyebrows at his knowledge of your company and he smirked at your reaction. Mal met your gaze through a side glance but looked away when Alina started speaking.

“We need charter out of here immediately.” The captain nodded and threw a glance out the window and when you followed his gaze you saw the lights from the docks quickly getting further away. Nikolai noticed as you did your discovery and when you looked back at him he was already looking at you. You just gave him a nod and he smiled, standing up and walking past you with a promise to show you where you’d be able to sleep at night. Alina, Mal and you quickly went after him, letting Tolya close the door behind you.

You’d been on the Volkvolny for almost three weeks now and you, Alina and Mal helped the crew out wherever you were needed and on this particular night you’d been asked to join the night’s watch. You were standing on deck, a shawl wrapped around your shoulders. It was a calm night. Warm winds swept across the sea, soft waves crashed against the sides of the boat, the smell of fresh sea air filled your nose and billions of stars covered the dark sky above you. They reflected in the water making it look like you were sailing in an endless sea of stars. It was breathtaking. You stood at the front, keeping watch forward and at the same time enjoying the view and the peace and quiet.

The clinking sound of boots against the wooden floor pulled you out of your thoughts and when you turned around you were met by the now familiar sight of Nikolai in his teal coat making his way towards you. His steps were heavy and he had dark circles under his eyes, but tried to hide it away with his usual smirk, hoping it would make him look more awake and alert than he really felt like.

“Everything okay up front?” he came to rest his arms on the railing beside you and you turned back towards the sea with him. A small nod told him everything was in order and he let out a breath of relief, letting his shoulders fall slightly.

“Everything okay with you?” you spoke back with a hint of worry in your tone. Nikolai turned his head to meet your gaze, searching for something in your y/e/c eyes before giving you a stiff nod. With a gentle hand you pushed away a few strands of his hair from his eyes and his eyes fell close for a second, relishing in the gentle touch.

“You sure?” you mumbled and pulled your hand away. His breath got stuck in his threat for a second when your warm touch left him, leaving him speechless for just a moment. He nodded. Neither of you said anything else that night but you both stayed there, at the front of the ship, shoulders pressed together as you watched the stars fade into the morning glow.

Nikolai knew he’d fallen in love after you’d been a month and a half on the Volkvony. You had your hair in a braid tied up with a ribbon that day but the winds had been hard and when you had been wrapping up some lines of rope on the starboard side of the ship, a particularly hard wind tugged your ribbon away. You just barely missed it reaching out for it, watching as the silk slipped between your fingers. Nikolai saw it flying out to sea, carried away with the wind. He followed it with his gaze but when he blinked, he lost it. Instead he turned his gaze back to you and the sight took his breath away. Now your hair flowed freely, whipping around your face in the wind and dancing like wildfire. He couldn’t take his gaze away from you.

Tamar walked past you and noticed the chaotic state of your hair and said something that made you laugh. You threw your head back, eyes glittering and your melodic laughter carried on the wind. Your beauty had bewitched him and he found himself not minding it a bit.

“Welcome to the spinning wheel.”

You’d traveled on horseback since you came back to Ravka and now you were standing in front of two massive stone doors in the mountain wall. The top of the mountain disappeared into the clouds but you could almost see the outlines of it.

A few guards pulled a lever and the great doors opened themselves revealing a set of stairs carved out in the stone. You all jumped off the horses and walked inside with Nikolai in the front. He explained that this was one of his secret hideaways that he’d built when being Sturmhond. Now it was a grisha sanctuary and a secret base hidden away in the mountain and above the clouds. The only way to get inside would be by the mountain doors or flying. The air was his domain.

When you reached the top of the stairs Nikolai pushed a heavy door open and light flooded in through the opening. You had to shield your eyes for a moment when you walked in, but when you’d gotten accustomed to the blinding light, the sight of the Spinning wheel took your breath away. The place was fabrikator made. The whole building was made entirely out of glass, except for the floors. It let the sunlight in from all directions and it let you see across the sea of clouds. Nikolai smiled at your reaction, pulling you with him to show you around. He showed you your room where you’d be sleeping, the war room, his office, the great balcony and he even had a garden up here. It was overflowing in greenery, trees rising along the wall of the building, flowers thriving in every direction. It was messy, the garden unkempt but the grass was cut neatly. It was so perfectly Nikolai and that made it even more beautiful.

When Nikolai suggested having a ball it was the last thing you’d expected out of his mouth. You’d been prepared for a declaration of war against the Darkling or storming the little palace and taking it back. You’d been prepared for anything but a ball. That didn't mean you thought it a bad idea. All the people at the spinning wheel could probably use the distraction and a night of fun. So, a ball it was. Nikolai got some fabrikators to decorate the grand hall and a few of the grisha could assemble some kind of orchestra and fix the music. Everyone was invited so the only problem really was whatever were you going to wear?

After moments of trying and retrying a few different dresses you settled for a lightweight gown that flowed like a waterfall around you. I moved smoothly whenever you walked and it shined in the light. A few flowers from the bouquet that Nikolai had placed in your room matched the color of your dress and you carefully picked a few of them out and placed them in your hair. When you were happy with your look you walked out and set off towards the ball.

Nikolai had been mingling with Zoya, sipping lightly on a glass of champagne while making a bit of small talk, when the doors opened and you stepped through the door frame. If Nikolai hadn’t already fallen in love with you, he would’ve fallen then. You were breathtaking. The light from the chandelier made our eyes and dress sparkle and he found himself almost at a loss of words. Those who’d been dancing when you entered had slowed down to be able to take in the look of you.

You moved with elegance and ease when you walked across the room, smiling at the festivities, ignoring all the looks she got. A slight blush dusted her cheeks when Nikolai caught her gaze. He set off towards her, meeting her halfway.

“Well, you certainly know how to stop a party,” he smirked at her, offering you his arm, inviting you to dance.

“What can I say? I like to make an impression,” you accepted his offer and he spun you around one time before gathering you up in his arms. His heat radiated off of him and it enveloped you in a feeling of comfort and love. He swayed you across the dance floor, the rest of the company were stunned by your beauty and grace. Nikolai smiled at that and chuckled softly.

“That I believe, love.”

You spent the night mingling with the other guests, laughing, drinking, talking. When the clock was almost hitting midnight and the moon shined brightly upon the spinning wheel, you went outside to take a breather. The air was chilly but fresh, the bleak light from the moon lit up the whole of Nikolai’s little garden. It was beautiful. The sound of the door getting shut behind you made you turn around, smiling softly when your eyes found Nikolai’s. The sound of the music from inside slipped through the wall of glass, but it was muted greatly making the night quite peaceful outside. You’d slipped off your heels when stepping outside and Nikolai spared them a glance, grinning at the sight.

Looking at you, Nikolai found he’d never set eyes on something so beautiful as you. You were swaying softly to the music from inside, the moonlight illuminating you and making your dress look like a waterfall of moonlight. For a moment, he was afraid you’d hear his heart skip a beat. Elegantly, you reached out a hand for him. In a few strides he was within your reach and he took your hand in his, pulling you in to meet him halfway. Wrapping you up in his arms, keeping you close and relishing in the feeling. A smile made its way to his lips. Your y/e/c eyes looked up into his, getting lost in the hazel that swirled in them.

“You are astonishingly beautiful, Nikolai,” the words left your lips before you could stop them. Nikolai felt his breath hitch in throat. He swallowed hard, taking in the sincerity in your words and in your eyes. His words melted on his tongue and he couldn’t find anything to say in return. He hadn’t heard those words from someone he cared about and finally hearing them seemed to have stopped his body from functioning normally. You smirked at the reaction.

“You don’t have to say anything back, Nik. I just wanted you to know that.” He only nodded and pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before pulling you even closer to him. Finally he whispered out a quiet “thank you”, letting the words linger in the air along with the fog from his breath. It swirled up into the night, disappearing and fading into the clouds.

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #shadow and bone imagine #six of crows #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone netflix #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #king nikolai #prince nikolai #netflix shadow and bone #sab

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frenchkisstheabyss · 7 months

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♡ I Will Follow You Into The Dark ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!felix x fem!reader

♡ Genre: cotton candy fluff

♡ Summary: After a long night filled with tough emotions, an early morning bubble bath cuddled up with your boyfriend while he tells you a story is the perfect thing to ease your mind.

♡ Word Count: 1.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: It's briefly mentioned that the reader has gone through trauma in the past that led to a breakdown. You're in a bathtub together so, ya know, no clothes. You get a little flirty. Kissing. Mention of a snake bite in the story he tells you.

♡ A/N: Tonight was another "let's be all in my feelings night" so, as always, please hop into the feels with me and partake in some fluffy sweet comfort.

It’s early enough in the morning when you slip into a warm bubble bath with Felix that it feels like you’re the last two people on Earth. The small window above the vintage clawfoot tub is cracked, allowing birdsong to float freely into the room on the coattails of a crisp autumn breeze. As you curl up between his legs, your head tucked comfortably under his chin, he brings his arms around to embrace you.

Lilac blossom scented bubbles cling to his arms, dripping down your chest and shoulders to rejoin the others that float atop the water. You haven’t turned the lights on yet, leaving you tucked in the shadows, partially hidden from the sliver of light that breaks through the pleated cotton curtains. What little light that does reach you soaks your skin in rich amber. “The sunlight,” he says, “Makes you look sweet.”

You look up at him, smiling soft as autumn leaves falling from trees when you realize he’s been staring at you this entire time. “It makes me look sweet?” “Yeah, like honey. I could just eat you up.” Kisses rain down on you, a tender yet ruthless attack that has Felix holding you still as his lips jump from your cheek to your neck to your shoulder and back to your cheek again.

It tickles something fierce, leaving you unable to do much else besides kick your feet and giggle. Water splashes onto the marbled tile floor, clusters of bubbles sailing across puddles like ships out at sea. Felix couldn’t care less about causing a small flood, every bit of his focus is on you. He only stops when he’s satisfied, kissing your cheek one last time for good measure just when you think he’s done.

Together you gradually settle into a space of quiet tranquility. There’s no awkwardness. No underlying pressure to do or say anything in particular. You’re here in this moment together. Just the two of you. Your love for each other prominent enough in its essence that words aren’t necessary. But even in the comfort of his arms, emotions from last night linger within you.

Your trauma, you do what you can to manage it, but sometimes it comes back to haunt you. When it does it clings to you like sticky pink bubblegum on a hot summer day. Last night was one of those times. You felt lost, fully incapable of holding yourself together, so you came to Felix. The safest place you’ve ever known for your broken pieces. There’s so much distance now between the brokenness that consumed you last night and the peace you feel this morning.

A distance that grows wider and wider the longer you’re with him. “No matter what you do,” he’d whispered only a few hours ago, cuddled up behind you on his couch, “I’ll always be in awe of you.” He meant it then and, watching you zone out playing with the bubbles, he hopes that, even in your daze, you know he means it now. That he’ll mean it forever.

Felix takes your hand, placing his fingers in the spaces between yours just as the universe intended, “Hey.” “Hi,” you say, sensing almost immediately that he wants to do something—anything—to ease your pain, “I could use a story.” “Ooh, a story. What kind of story?” You pet his cheek, closing your eyes in preparation for the full ASMR experience of listening to him speak. “Dealer’s choice. I’m just here to listen.”

He pokes his lips out, pushing air from one puffed up cheek to the other as the gears turn in his brain. “I’ve got one. Okay, so, there’s this story Hyunjin taught me about. A myth actually.” “Mythology. Sexy.” you tease, lightly running a nail down the side of his neck. Felix shivers when you hit that one spot that always gets him. He tilts his head to whisper in your ear, “Did you want a story or something more...active? Cause if you keep doing that—”

One of his hands glides down your right thigh, sending the shivers from his own body straight through yours. “Fine, I’ll behave,” you pout, “Continue.” You don’t clarify what to continue. Rubbing your thigh? Telling the story? He chooses both. You’re nearly glowing, clearly pleased with his decision. And so he begins—

“There’s this ancient Greek myth about Apollo’s son Orpheus who fell in love with this really gorgeous woman named Eurydice. It was love at first sight. He saw her and just knew she was who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.”

“How romantic,” you sigh, eyes still closed, blissfully unaware of the adoration in his eyes when he speaks. He just knew.

“Very much so,” he agrees, continuing the story, “So Orpheus and Eurydice. They were married shortly after they met. Not everyone supported it but they loved each other. That was all that mattered. And they were happy. At least until Eurydice died. There are lots of different versions of how she died. Most commonly it’s a snake bite though.”

Felix bites your cheek a little, hissing like the cutest snake on the planet. If this is the snake bite that ends you, you’ll take it.

“Losing her…he wasn’t able to accept it. So, with the gods’ protection, he traveled to Hades to bring her back. Once he reached the underworld he played a song for Hades that was so beautiful he was offered a deal. Eurydice could return to the world of the living but she couldn’t walk out by his side. She had to walk out behind him in her spirit form, only becoming human again when she stepped into the light. And if he looked back—”

You open your eyes, dramatically clutching your hand to your chest, “If he looked back what?” Felix runs a finger across your neck, sticking his tongue out in his best attempt to mimic a corpse. “Dead for good. Lost forever.” “Let me guess. He looked back, didn't he?” “That’s right my smart little cookie."

"The closer they got to the world of the living, the lighter her footsteps became. He started to doubt she was following him so when they were only a few feet from the surface he looked back just in time to see the face of his love as she disappeared into the darkness.”

Readjusting yourself in the tub, you turn to face him, your face near enough to his that the air you breathe out is what he breathes in. “If it were me would you look back?” “No,” he answers without hesitation. “Because you trust me?” He leans in closer so that his words are spoken directly onto your lips, “Because I’d never take that deal. We come out of the dark together or not at all.”

It steals your breath away to hear such a heartfelt answer. To feel him spell it out across your lips. Felix kisses you, his arms closing back around you as he fills your hollow lungs with the passion laced air of his own. It’s enough to make you cry, that he loves you so completely.

If you hadn’t woken up and asked him to take this bath with you. If you wanted to lay in bed all day with the curtains closed and the lights out. He would’ve stayed there with you in the darkness. In the underworld. Playing songs of devotion not for the pity of Hades but for the love of you, his Eurydice, until you could return to the light.

Together or not at all...

#lee felix x you #lee felix x reader #lee felix x female reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #lee felix flu

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theredengineapologist · 2 months

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Happy Valentine's Day Everyone! 💙❤

Of course, I had to do something Jameward for the occasion. Even though this meme is literally called "Understand my Ship in 5 Minutes", I still wanted to include some commentary/headcanons because I've been DYING to talk about them forever. So if you're interested, read on under the cut!

(Also, please note that the interpretation of the characters depicted here is specifically for my AU, TTTE: Sudrian Boys)

NAMES: For the sake of making sure their names fit in the boxes, I used the last names they picked for themselves before they got married. When they do eventually get legally married, they'll combine their last names together (a conclusion they got to after much bickering). So respectively, they will be James and Edward Hughes-Pettigrew.

GENDER + SEXUALITY:

James is GAY. GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY. Sorry not sorry, but there is not a woman-liker bone in his body.

Edward, on the other hand is bi. Part of me thinks he tends to prefer the company of men, but maybe that's just because there's significantly more male engines on Sodor. Also he is nonbinary. This will be something I explore later. But to summarize, Edward never felt entirely male in the strict sense that humans define it. However, he felt the need to be the consistent, steady, "old reliable" his peers saw him as, so he never questioned what others chose to call him. This changed when "The Great Shift" happened (aka, the engines learning to shift into a human-like form). Edward saw an opportunity to experiment with his presentation, and so he had a brief stint where he tried going in the opposite direction, presenting as a woman named Alice. As fun as it was, however, he found that it didn't feel quite right either. To him, "Edward" was where he felt most at home. He's not a man or a woman, he is just "Edward". Edward uses "he/they" pronouns because those feel the most neutral to them.

HORNY LEVEL: I will not be elaborating.

AWKWARDNESS LEVEL: I don't think Edward and James ever really had an "awkward phase". Before they got together, they always felt comfortable with each other as close friends would. They never really had that thing of "oh I want to tell him I like him but I also don't want him to know". Edward always knew he liked James, he just didn't say anything because he didn't think James was interested. And once James admitted to himself that he liked Edward, he confessed and it was all smooth sailing from there. To be honest, not much changed when they moved from "close friends" to "boyfriends". They still act like close friends, just with added kissing privileges.

JEALOUSY LEVEL: At the point where they're at in their relationship right now, both James and Edward are pretty secure, so it's rare for either of them to act jealous.

From Edward's perspective, he knows that James is young (relatively speaking) and very attractive, so it's hardly surprising to see that other people would try to flirt with him. There's a small pang of jealousy that comes from him thinking James would have preferred someone younger or stronger, but that quickly goes away once he sees James return to being on his arm and very proudly proclaiming he's already spoken for.

From James's perspective, he thinks Edward is the real catch between the two of them. Plus, it's not often that other people would try to shoot their shot with the silver fox. So when other people do try to get a little too close for comfort, James would certainly be stewing in jealousy. If the feeling gets to a certain point, he'd probably make himself known. But once they get home, the situation gets explained out, and they're cuddling on the couch with a blanket and some tea, James finds he can let go of the jealous feeling relatively quickly.

BIG SPOON/LITTLE SPOON: Majority of the time, James is the little spoon. He likes to be held and Edward LOVES holding him. James's favorite thing is when Edward keeps their hand on his chest. But occasionally, they do switch places, especially if Edward has a particularly hard day. Sometimes Old Iron wants to be cuddled too.

LENDS/BORROWS CLOTHES: Both of them tend to steal borrow clothes from each other, but under different circumstances.

At home, it's relatively commonplace to see Edward walking around in one of James's pants, shirts, or even his prized red coat. But more often than not, these are cases of Edward just picking them up of his own accord and James just letting him have it.

Outside, it's James who more actively does the borrowing and Edward who does the lending. James likes to go out ✨IN STYLE✨ without taking into consideration pesky things like the weather. So when James (inevitably) gets cold at night, Edward is the one to lend him his jacket.

PET NAMES: They don't use pet names often, but they do use some of the more basic ones on occasion. For James, Edward would sometimes call him "Jamie", "darling", "dear", or his personal favorite, "love". James usually calls Edward by his full name because Edward prefers it, but sometimes he might slip in an "Eddie", "baby", or a "kitten" in there just to make the old man flustered.

AFFECTION THROUGH WORDS/ACTIONS: This one might seem paradoxical, but let me explain.

James is more receptive to affection through words because he's used to being dismissed. In his worst moments, he can be pretty down on himself as his insecurities eat away at him. At times like these, Edward knows exactly what to say to help James pick himself back up again. It's especially meaningful because Edward absolutely means everything he says. He's not the type to lie just to make James feel better. He's honest and straightforward. If James did something wrong that needs calling out, Edward will tell him (politely of course). So when Edward tells James that he's wonderful or that he's a "really splendid engine", he 100% means it. And you can tell from just the look in his eyes that Edward loves his red boyfriend SO DAMN MUCH.

Conversely, Edward is more receptive to affection through actions. Edward is always the one out caring for everyone else and tends to forget to care for himself too. But at the same time, he's very much the type to never ask for help (even if he needs it). James knows this, so he goes the extra mile to help take some of the load off. If Edward is especially tired one day, James will step up and do Edward's share of the housekeeping without being asked. He'll volunteer to go supervise Bill and Ben so that Edward can take a day off. He'll fix up a warm bath for Edward after a hard day. Anything to make sure Edward is taken care of, James will do it. Not only that, but James is also the one planning most of their dates. ;)

CONFESSING:

Edward NEVER had any plans to confess to James. Romantic relationships are uncommon amongst engines since there's no real use for them. Plus, he didn't think James would be interested in a plain old iron like himself (as he views himself anyway). So Edward was just content to just feel his feelings and never act on them.

James, on the other hand, took several years to both realize and accept that he was in love with Edward. But once he got to that point, he confessed fairly quickly. Sure, there was a normal amount of hesitation and worry that Edward might not feel the same. But he was about 90% sure that Edward loved him back so he didn't end up worrying that much leading up to the confession.

CAN'T DRIVE LOL: Even as engines, they can't drive themselves. Plus, they know trains are the superior way to travel. So if they ever need to go somewhere while shifted into humans, they just catch one of their friends' trains. I don't think they've ever even sat in a car before.

COOKING: Edward loves to cook (especially baking). It was one of the first hobbies he picked up after learning how to shift and he would often make meals to share for the entire Steam Team. James, on the other hand, can cook, but not nearly as well as Edward. He doesn't know as many dishes as Edward. Even the ones they both know, James's, for some reason, aren't as good. The only time James would ever take over cooking is if Edward is feeling too exhausted to do so. There's a mutual acknowledgement between them (and also the rest of the Steam Team) that Edward is the superior chef (and he also enjoys it more). So if he can help it, James prefers to leave the cooking to Edward.

PDA: James absolutely LOVES PDA. He will take literally every opportunity he can to dote on Edward in public so that the entire island knows that they're together, much to Edward's embarrassment. Edward secretly loves the PDA too, and he appreciates how proud James is to be his boyfriend (and later husband). But Edward would never admit it. He tries really hard to at least appear decent in public. That said, when the opportunity arises, Edward does like getting to flip the script and fluster James in front of onlookers.

OVERPROTECTIVE/CHILL GOING: Both are more than reasonably protective over each other, but for different reasons and under different circumstances.

James gets into accidents relatively often, usually as the result of his own dumbassery. So Edward has gotten to a point where he's not too concerned if James winds up in an accident again. He'll still worry a little and warn James to be more careful next time, but Edward knows after a trip to the Steamworks that his boyfriend will be good as new again.

It's when they're shifted into humans when Edward becomes more protective of James.

Because of the way James looks, it's unfortunately not uncommon for James to get harassed while shifted as a human. When this happens, Edward goes into full protective mode to make sure his beloved stays safe. Thankfully, it doesn't happen too often. But it does happen often enough that Edward feels like he has to keep close watch of James while they're traveling after nightfall.

James, on the other hand, always has a bit of worry for Edward at the back of his mind. He knows Edward is capable of handling himself, but he also knows that Edward is old and doesn't recover from accidents as quickly or easily as he does. He worries that if the damage is too great, Edward could be scrapped. So if Edward were to end up in any sort of accident, James would go ballistic. He's puffing over right away to make sure his beloved is okay and may or may not have a fierce word with whoever caused the accident. The same thing goes when they are in human form. If Edward were to end up in some sort of fight, James would put himself in harms way to make sure Edward is protected (even though in human form, Edward is actually physically stronger than James).

RELATIONSHIP EXPERIENCE: Neither of them had any relationship experience before each other, they were each other's firsts. You can maybe argue that Edward has slightly more experience because he's had crushes on other people in the past, but fleeting attraction that is never pursued could hardly count for true experience. Their whole relationship is something that James and Edward are navigating together. It's new and at times a little scary, but there's nobody else James and Edward would rather be with than each other.

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dancingintherainwithchifuyu · 15 days

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𝔚𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔱

Chapter 1

The mountain bandit stared at the girl who was busy packing her bag, throwing in the few articles of clothing and books she had. “

Are you sure that you want to travel with that idiot of a brother?” She asked. Only getting a slight grin in return.

“ I can’t let him travel alone; this is a way we can share our dreams,” she explained honestly. The girl walked up to Dadan before wrapping her arms around the woman.

The action brought the older bandit a sudden realization of how much Aster had grown; it felt just like a few days ago, she was still just a little kid who ran around the house laughing. The girl definitely kept her spirits up, especially with how rowdy and loud her brothers were when they were growing up.

“Thank you for taking me in! I promise not to get into trouble.” Dadan looked away from the girl, already tearing up. Aster couldn't help but giggle at the older woman, despite her tough exterior and harshness. Aster knew that Dadan cared for her and her brothers a whole lot; it showed how properly she raised them.

“You two better look after each other.”

“I promise we will!” Dadan nodded and left to join the rest of the mountain bandits, leaving Aster to finish her packing.

Aster looked around the small room for the last time. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough for her. She didn't need much with the bandits anyway, plus with three brothers, there wasn't much privacy.

Luffy still sometimes snuck into her room to come hang out with her and talk about the adventures they would have together once they set sail.

“ASTER!”

“I'm coming!”

She closed her door before passing the bandits, greeting them all one last time. Luffy peaked past the door as his sister reached him.

“We're going now. Aren't you gonna see us off?” He said glancing at the mountain bandits

“Shut up; the mayor and Makino know us, but we'd scare the other villagers if we came down from the mountain.”

“But..”

“Come on, Luffy, Dadan is right. We don't want to cause trouble.”

“..Okay, thank you for everything!”

The rest of the bandits seemed bashful as they said their goodbyes to the siblings, reminding Luffy to take care of his sister and not be reckless. Aster only smiled at the interaction, grinning proudly when Luffy reminded the bandits that he normally hated bandits, but he liked them. This again caused the older woman to pull out her handkerchief and cry.

Aster smiled at the bartender, who was fretting as she fixed her clothing. She grabbed a hold of the older woman’s hands

“I’ll be okay, really; I’ll be with Luffy the whole time,” Makino sighed softly at the brunette girl

“Are you sure? What if you two wait a bit?” She suggested as she glanced towards the grinning boy, busy greeting the rest of the town, smiling happily at them all, and promising to become the pirate king. She smiled at this turning back to the woman, but before she had the chance to respond to the woman she squeaked as Luffy wrapped his rubber arms around her and suddenly pulled her toward him.

Makino had a similar flashback of the two running around Foosha village; Luffy had always dragged his younger sister around; the two would always visit the bar and wait for a certain pirate to entertain them with stories of his travels.

“LUFFY!” Aster lectured her older brother, but the boy just grinned at her.

“We have to go!” He rushed her, causing the younger girl to roll her eyes.

“Luffy, there’s plenty of time.”

“ I can’t wait forever!”

Aster smiled back at the villagers as Luffy dragged her towards the small boat. Aster stared at the ship nervously before glancing at her brother and his choice of boat.

“Luffy, maybe we should take the old fishing boat…”

“Nope, this is how we start!”

“I'm going to kill him.”

Aster sighed softly as she leaned against the railing; after getting separated from Luffy, for better or worse, she found her grandfather.

Once again, Garp had tried to recruit her into the Marines, but she had her heart set on sailing and traveling the world freely. It was just one of the many reasons she decided to travel with her brother. She told her grandfather as much but she was bound to get punished for this once again, and Garp had a unique way of punishment.

This is how Aster ended up on a boat owned by the G-5 marine branch with Captain Smoker, the man who was hunting her brother at the moment. Last she heard, Luffy and his crew were on their way to Alabasta.

She was really proud of Luffy, who had managed to recruit a crew of his own, and she couldn't wait to meet up with all of them. Pushing herself off the railing, she shakes her head with a smile and stretches her arms out above her head.

“I don't understand why you would follow your brother.” Smoker huffed out glancing at the girl

“You don't have siblings?” She asked the marine curiously, giving him a half smile when he shook his head a grumbled no escaping his lips

She couldn't imagine her life without her brothers. She wouldn't have come this far without them; she glanced at Smoker again.

Smoker wasn't as terrible as other marines she had met when she was with Garp; most marines had let their title go to their head and lost their way. She was thankful for the few good marines out there who genuinely wanted to protect people.

“I respect you as a Marine, Captain Smoker, and I know you don't understand why I would want to travel with a pirate. But my brother wouldn't just hurt someone unless they deserved it. Luffy is really perceptive when it comes to bad people.” Aster spoke honestly, being aware of how Luffy had never gone out of his way to try and harm people regardless of the situation.

Smoker only stared at the younger girl in disbelief; she seemed to know the consequences and still followed through even though being a pirate, or in her case being associated with one, was a crime punishable by death.

This girl didn't seem to care that she could be punished if she traveled with her brother. Garp had told him that Aster always wanted to see the world and travel from island to island. That was her dream, to learn about the world and cultures of people since she was little. This teenager was willing to risk it all to make a dream a reality.

He soghed shaking his head once again

“You're Grandfather trusted me to take care of you and keep you safe, “Smoker spoke, turning away from the girl, watching as the ship got closer to the coast of Alabasta.

“You are you stay on this ship” he finished

Aster looked up in shock at the captains words, she was ready to argue with the man but Smoker called out to Tagishi to guide Aster to the room she'll be staying in for her stay.

“You can't do that!”

“I'm the captain of the ship, you follow my orders “

The woman smiled apologetically to the teenager as she guided her toward the room. Tashigi stopped in front of the door looking back at the pouting girl before she placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder and smiled

“Captain Smoker means well. He just doesn't want to see people get hurt, you're still young”

“I'm not stupid! I know how to fight and protect myself!”

Aster let out a frustrated groan before walking into the room, closing the door behind her. Her grandfather had truly chosen an awful punishment ,she was sailing with a man who was actively hunting her brother and trying to capture him when all she wanted to do was reunite with Luffy.

She fell down on the bed staring up at the ceiling, maybe she could come up with a plan to sneak off at Alabasta.

Aster was shocked at the state of Alabasta with the Intel she had managed to get through eavesdropping.

Luffy and his crew should be here, as well as a warlord. She had only heard rumors of Crocodile. He was a notorious warlord. So why was he here in this country? What was he scheming for?

From what she heard about Luffy and how he had fought not only Buggy but Arlong, he was likely here to find out what Crocodile was up to. Now, all she had to do was look out for a commotion, and that was where she would probably find him.

“Miss! Wouldn't you be interested in buying this fruit? I heard it should make you live for a thousand years!”

Aster tilted her head as she listened to the older merchant try to sell her the golden apple; she smiled at the older man.

“Then it must be really, really valuable. Why haven't you eaten it?” She asked innocently, causing the man to freeze up. She grinned at him as she held her hands behind her back.

“You should really work on a better sales pitch…” She spoke while looking around.

“Have you tried selling it to a boy in a straw hat?” She asked, hoping that Luffy had run into the merchant, who shook his head in response.

“Thank you anyway!” She bowed before walking further into the market. She rubbed the sweat off her forehead before fanning out her clothes, if she didn’t find shelter soon her brain would fry like an egg on the pavement from the blinding heat.

Speaking of food, she wouldn't mind grabbing a bite after finding some clothes that could protect her from the raging sun.

Aster stepped out of the building, already feeling much better after her wardrobe change; she preferred something that would move more freely. But at least this would protect her from the sun's rays and the heat.

She glanced toward a group down the street crowded around a restaurant. She guessed right. Just look for trouble, and she might find Luffy. Before she could move past the crowd, a red flash ran out of the restaurant and back into the streets, with Smoker following close by.

“Looks like Captain Smoker found him…”

She sighed before running down the streets, following after her brother and keeping an eye on the roof. She ignored the marines running past her, following Smoker's orders to capture the rest of the straw-hat pirates.

Aster moved past the crowded streets, pushing past patrons and merchants following behind the two in the chase. Within minutes, she collided with a body, and they both fell to the ground; when she looked up, she grinned

“Luffy!”

Luffy gave her a grin back before jumping to his feet and grabbing her.

“ We have to go! Smokey guy is after me!” Before she could comment, Luffy started running, carrying her over his shoulder. Aster glanced up, noticing Smoker's shocked look. She pulled her eye and poked out her tongue; the marine captain scowled, cursing under his breath before he ran after the two teenagers.

“HEY GUYS!”

“AT LEAST LEAD THEM AWAY FIRST!”

Luffy ran towards his crew with a smile, still carrying his sister over his shoulder. The crew didn't have time to ask him about the stranger on their captain's shoulder when Smoker and the Marines arrived to capture them and take them in. Smoker had sent smoke out of his body towards the pirate crew.

The crew watched as the attack was halted by a wall of flames separating the pirates and marines.

A familiar figure, wearing an orange hat, landed before the straw hat crew, grinning at the marine captain before looking back at the straw hat pirates as Luffy finally put his sister down and looked back at at the manshocked.

“Is that you, Ace?”

“You haven't changed a bit, have you, Luffy?”

Ace had assured the group that he would handle the marines and catch up with them later, letting them run away from the conflict and back towards their ship. The crew started questioning their Captain about how he knew the girl and Ace, only receiving a boyish grin as a response, much to their frustration.

Smoker stared at Ace with his arms across his chest, the marines standing behind him.

“I don't understand why are you helping the Strawhats?” He asked the whitebeard pirate. Only to receive a grin in return,

“It's natural for an older brother to protect his younger siblings.”

@alexa-fika for editing

@firstdivisiongirl @kazenomegaminowanpisu

@cafekitsune for the dividers

#one piece zoro #one piece ace #one piece luffy #one piece nami #one piece chopper #one piece usopp #one piece oc #one piece oc insert #one piece self insert #one piece selfship #one pieces #one piece imagine #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece

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