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hoomandoescosplay · 1 month

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Eternally Yours | Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Oneshot

The Garden of Eden is truly a paradise. All the plants and flowers are vivid and beautiful, and have a sweet fragrance.

As I sit on the grass I take a deep breath of the pure air before focusing my attention on the wildlife around.

It feels as though everything is in harmony with me. And Adam of course. I glance over at him walking around observing all the nature as well.

He has walked quite far away so it’s hard for me to fully see him.

My eyes dart to my side as I see some sort of creature with a yellow beak nudge into my thigh.

Its beak feels soft to the touch when it nudges against me. Its head tilted to one side, chirping with curiosity as it looked up at me.

“And what kind of creature might you be?” I ask out loud. It tilted its head again and chirped once more.

Whatever reply it was giving me was gibberish to my ears but it certainly was an adorable little creature.

I pick it up and pat it on the head gently as we both just continue to stare at one another.

After a few moments I jump at a sudden voice coming from behind me.

As I jumped with surprise at the voice, I instinctively tightened my grip on the creature.

“I call them ducks.” The voice says, causing me to turn around.

The creature squirmed slightly but didn’t cry out in pain or discomfort. Suddenly the voice spoke again.

“Oh my, I see I have arrived during a very adorable moment.” As I make eye contact with him I immediately recognize the man. It’s Lucifer.

I glance towards Adam’s figure before looking back at Lucifer. “I don’t think you should be here. Adam won’t be happy.” I say slightly louder than a whisper.

He gives me the most innocent look he can pull off before saying, “What, me being here is surely not a problem. I have just come for a friendly visit.”

The expression on his face says that he knows that’s complete bullshit, even though his tone was polite and sincere.

“He told me I shouldn’t talk to you.” I admit. Adam never explained why he didn’t like Lucifer or why I shouldn’t talk to him.

I’ve never questioned him or what he’s told me. All I know is that I was created for Adam and I should do everything in my power to be his equal and keep him happy.

Lucifer’s lips curl up in a mocking grin at those words. “Did he now? But I see nothing wrong with just a friendly chat to pass the time.” And he chuckles again as he takes a seat next to me.

I hum out as I think. “I suppose you’re right. A friendly conversation never hurts anybody.” As I finish saying this I give him a small smile.

His grin only grows as I hum out my agreement. “So.. What’s your name? I don’t think Adam ever mentioned it.”

“My name’s (Y/N).” I pet the duck some more as I respond.

He chuckles a little bit as he sees me petting the duck. “Aww, my little duckie seems to be enjoying your attention.”

He leans over a little to give the duck a little pet as well. “I’m Lucifer, Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Well it’s nice to officially meet you.” The duck chirps at all the attention it’s receiving.

“Same here! So, how much of paradise have you explored already? Has Adam shown you everything?”

I glance away, focusing on the duck. “He actually doesn’t like me leaving this area. He says it’s safer for me that way.”

Lucifer looks a little shocked at that. “He doesn’t let you go anywhere beyond this? This place is big though, but I can’t imagine staying just here and not seeing the whole of paradise!”

I sigh as I look at him when I speak this time. “I’m curious what the rest of the garden looks like. It must be absolutely gorgeous. But I was told to listen and trust Adam.”

“You’re missing out on the rest of this wonderful place! If I remember correctly, there’s even a pond and a beautiful waterfall in the middle of it. How’s that for gorgeous?”

My eyes sparkle as I hear Lucifer talk about the other parts of the garden. “Really?”

“Oh absolutely, and it’s definitely worth seeing!” Lucifer looks at me, matching my excitement.

“And.. I might know a way we can get there and look at it without getting Adam angry. A little sneak out, if you will.” He adds.

“Oh I would love to see it.” I then glance back at Adam and see he’s starting to make his way back over to where we are.

I frown slightly. “I guess we can’t go today though.”

Lucifer follows my line of sight and also sees Adam coming back. He raises an eyebrow as he watches Adam come closer.

“What a shame. Now it seems we won’t be able to go today. But, hey…”

Lucifer smiles widely as he leans in. “I said we won’t be able to go today... But, that doesn’t mean we can’t go any other day. Maybe tonight, when it’s dark and Adam’s asleep, we can sneak out and explore together?”

I juggle the thought in my mind for a while and glance back sadly at him. “I don’t know. That would be more than just a friendly conversation.”

Lucifer smiles at me even as I declined his offer to sneak out tonight. “I know it would be more than friendly, but I understand.”

I pause to glance at Adam again before directing my attention back to Lucifer. “How about this? Give me a day or two to think about it. When you come back I’ll have an answer for you.”

He nods as he hears my counter-offer. “A day or two, eh..? Alright, you have yourself a deal. I’ll come back tomorrow at this exact same spot to see what you’ve decided.”

We share a small smile before he turns himself into a snake and slithers off to be undetected by Adam.

As Adam comes back, he takes note of the duck in my arms. He frowned at the little creature.

“(Y/N).” His voice was very serious and firm, but I could also tell there was hurt hidden in it as he said my name. It was almost as if he was disappointed.

“Yes Adam?” I ask confused. “Is something wrong?”

“Where did you get the duck from?” His face was still stern and serious, but he had moved on from looking hurt to looking like he’s angry.

It’s clear he’s upset at me for having the animal, but why? I don’t understand what’s so wrong about this wonderful creature.

“It just wandered my way.” I hold it up for him to look at a bit closer. “Isn’t it cute?”

Adam takes a closer look at the duck. He squints at it and seems to size it up. It takes him a few seconds before he speaks again.

“Get rid of it. Actually no, I’ll get rid of it. Give it to me (Y/N).” He says as my eyes widen. “Oh, I- can I not keep it?” I ask meekly.

Adam seemed to be getting increasingly irritated by my attachment to the duck. He frowned more as I asked for permission to keep it.

“No.” He says firmly. He holds out his hand to her, waiting for me to hand him the duck.

I hand the duck over hesitantly. As Adam grabs the duck it chirps confused and I can feel my eyes start to well up.

He walks over to a bush farther away from where I stay and places it down. The duck refuses to move and just stares at me.

After a slightly forceful shove the duck eventually walks further into the garden.

As the duck walked away into the distance, Adam stayed right there and stared at where it went. His eyes were narrowed in a glare. He was definitely irritated, maybe even angry.

He didn’t move until he was certain the duck was far away enough. At which point he turned and started walking back to me, his expression still firm and upset.

─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───

My head was spinning with worry and doubt, questioning whether or not he was even going to show up at all.

He said he’d be back in two days and now it is the fourth day.

Everyday I made sure to sit in the exact spot as last time, keeping my eyes on the direction Lucifer slither away.

As I sat there, alone and waiting on Lucifer, I noticed that the garden was just not the same anymore.

Adam had gone exploring, as was his habit. But without the little duck, I began to feel lonely.

It was a strange feeling, especially since I had gotten used to staying here all day, everyday, by this point. But just now it felt wrong.

I couldn’t help but think that my mind was going a bit crazy waiting for Lucifer.

I had been waiting for two extra days than we agreed upon, and it was getting to the point where I was questioning my own sanity.

It was so out of character for me. I had never broken the rules once - and now I’ve been waiting on the edge of my seat for Lucifer to return.

I lay down on my back just staring up at the sky and clouds as I let out a sigh. I begin to close my eyes and just listen to the sounds around me.

Eventually, the light dims causing me to open my eyes confused. As I do so I’m greeted with Lucifer’s face peering down at me and a smile forming on my lips.

He leaned in close, staring down at me, his eyes locked on my own. The warmth of his smile was comforting like a warm blanket.

He looked like a shining angel under the sunlight with that radiant smile.

He had come, like he promised he would. I had thought he had forgotten me, but here he was.

“Hi.” Is all I could say to him as we continue to stare at each other.

A soft and almost angelic laugh escapes him seeing my reaction. “Hi indeed.” He walks around to my side as I sit up. He extends his hand out to me, helping me stand up.

There was a mischievous glint to his eyes. “Glad you waited for me.”

I let go of his hand after I'd completely stood up and dust off my dress. “I was thinking you wouldn’t show up.”

“Well, I told you I would. And I’m a man of my word. I am sorry I was late though.” He puts on the most genuine smile that he can manage, all the while his eyes are full of mischief.

“So, have you thought about my offer yet?” Wanting to mess with him a little I stayed silent for a while. “Hmm, you know I think I need more time to think.” I tease.

Lucifer’s cheeks flush a little in embarrassment as he realises that I’m playing with him.

This makes him grin widely. “How much time do you need? Tomorrow? Day after that? A week?”

“How long would you be willing to wait for me?” I ask.

I then immediately get shy as I don’t know where that came from. I’ve never spoken like that before.

“For you? I’d be willing to wait all eternity if need be.” Lucifer speaks without hesitation, and without any sign of exaggeration.

It makes me wonder, is he being honest? Or is he just teasing me back, in turn?

I smile at him. “Tonight we can go to the waterfall. If that still works for you of course.”

Lucifer gives me an excited grin at the news. “Of course it works for me. It works extremely well for me.”

He then leans in closer to me, a small devilish grin on his face. “Are you excited?”

I realize I don’t mind being this close to him. Whenever Adam tried to get close to me like this I never liked it. But with Lucifer? It feels so different.

“I’m so excited.” I beam at him not being able to contain my excitement. A devilish sparkle is in his eyes as he smiles back at me.

“If you’re so excited, how come you’re not jumping up and down?” He teases her playfully.

That makes me laugh. “I’m obviously saving the jumping up and down for when we get there.” Lucifer chuckles along with me at my playfulness.

“But surely you can’t keep still right now, can you?” As if to demonstrate, he moves his hand to my waist and pulls me ever so slightly closer.

“You’re too excited for your own good. I can feel the energy coming off you.” I immediately feel my face heat up as I’m not sure what to say in response.

He lets his fingers trail up from my waist to my chin, and his thumb traces the curve of my jaw for a moment. “Aww, look at you. All flustered.” Again, he gives me that devilish little grin.

I lean into his touch slightly. After a moment I feel his hand tense slightly as I look up at him to see his eyes shift to look behind me.

I turn my head to look as well and notice Adam is coming back earlier than usual. Lucifer lets out a sigh.

The devilish sparkle in Lucifer’s eyes disappears as his face hardens into a serious expression as he watches Adam walking towards us.

“Ahhh damn it.” He groans under his breath as he pulls away from me. “I guess we have to cut this short. I’ll be back tonight around midnight.”

“Alright. I’ll see you then.” I give him a small wave before he disappears into the garden.

─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───

Adam falls asleep quickly after the sun has gone down. After I’m sure he’s asleep I sit up to help keep myself awake.

I’m not sure how much longer until midnight but I wait patiently doing my best to stay up.

Every minute seemed like an hour and every hour like a day, but eventually, midnight rolled around.

The moon was visible in the night sky, brightly filling the darkness, and it was about as bright as it was going to get.

Lucifer appears in the distance, making his way towards me once again. “You’re still up? Impressive.”

“Impressive and very hard to accomplish.” I reply as I yawn. He reaches out his hand and I take to pulling myself up.

He chuckles. “Well, I’m glad you did. Because now we have the whole night ahead of us.” He takes her hand in his and brushes his other hand through her hair.

“So, are you ready to go see the waterfall now?” I grin at him. “So ready.”

He chuckles as he squeezes my hand a bit. “Then let’s go.”

He starts to lead me through the garden towards the waterfalls. We walked down a slightly hidden path for a little while before stepping into a clearing.

The waterfall was right ahead of us. It was so beautiful with the moonlight casting shadows, and the water making lovely and tranquil sounds as it dropped down.

My eyes light up at the view and a wide smile forms on my lips. “This is absolutely stunning.” I squeeze his hand slightly from excitement.

The moonlight hit Lucifer’s face making him look even more angelic as he beamed at my compliment. “It really is. It truly is amazing.”

He gazes at the waterfall for a few moments, taking in the sounds and the sights. “It’s even prettier with you here as well.” He leans in closer to whisper in my ear.

My face flushes and I giggle. “Come on, let's get closer to the water.” I pull him along as we get to the edge of the water and take a seat.

I let go of his hand to reach out and touch the water. Afterwards we sit in silence for a while admiring the view and the tranquillity of the night.

“Why didn’t Adam want me to see other parts of the garden?” I wonder out loud. I notice his body language and expression soften as he lets out a sigh.

"Well. The main reason he didn't want you exploring other parts of the garden was because there were things he didn't want you to see." He looks down at the ground for a few moments as if he's pondering something.

I look at him confused. “Like what? If it’s anything like this then why hide such beautiful things?”

Lucifer makes an apple appear in the palm of his hand. “This is the fruit of knowledge.”

I continue to stare at him more curiously now. I can tell he’s reluctant to say any more but he sighs and continues.

“It's a little bit complicated. If you eat this, there will be some things you'll know that you may not be ready for. You can't turn back once you eat it."

I study his face, trying to get a glimpse of some extra information, any advice at all. But his expression doesn’t give me any hints.

I reach out to take the apple from his palm. If he felt a need to tell me about this fruit of knowledge then I trust him.

“Just remember, you can’t take it back once you’ve eaten it.” He says softly, almost whispering.

I nod, taking one last look at the apple before bringing it up to my lips and taking a bite.

As I take a bite of the apple a sudden wave of knowledge comes over me. Everything makes so much more sense now.

Why Adam never wanted me to talk to Lucifer, why he didn’t like the ducking, why I was created. The whole reason I was created was to be a better made version of Lilith and Eve. All of it is finally coming together.

I was starting to understand things at an even deeper level, things that no one has ever thought to explain to me before.

“Why does Heaven want us to be shielded from this knowledge? It’s so… it’s so fulfilling to know I have the mind to make my own choices.” I say trying to wrap my head around why I was so shielded from this.

As I look at him he looks proud, proud that I’m an equal with him now. “Because they think we can’t handle it.” He responds. “We’re supposed to just do whatever they tell us with no regard for our own free will.”

“That’s not fair.” I whisper out sad that humanity is supposed to have a date like that.

“It’s not.” His voice is now tinged with frustration. “We should be able to make our own choices with full awareness of the consequences. If you had free will, there is no reason you shouldn’t have a full knowledge of that free will.”

He looks down at the waterfall for a moment to gather his thoughts. “You deserve to have the choice without being kept in the dark about certain things.”

“Thank you. Thank you for helping me realize this.” I grab his hands in my own to show how much I appreciate him.

Lucifer wraps his hands around mine, taking comfort from the warmth.

He looks down at our hands and his expression softens. His voice is tender when he speaks back to me.

“You deserve it. Anyone does. Knowledge is the most valuable thing one can possess, and you were robbed of it for too long.”

“I don’t- I don’t think I can go back to Adam knowing all of this.” I start to worry. “What will happen to me? The same thing that happened to Lilith and Eve?”

Lucifer seems to have been anticipating this question. He lets out a sad sigh as the expression on his face turns somber.

"Yes. You will most likely get cast from the Garden of Eden just the same as Lilith and Eve were." His eyes drift to the horizon for a moment as he thinks of ways to comfort me.

"But,” He gazes back at me with a gleam in his eyes. "If you come with me you’ll be spared of most of the pain that comes with being cast from here.”

My eyes dart over his whole body until they end up looking back at his own eyes. “I can do that?”

Lucifer's expression softens even more as I ask him that very important question. "Yes. You most certainly can." He says with a smile.

His eyes search mine, hoping this is the thing I really want. "Just say the word, and you're free to leave with me and never come back."

“It will cost you a lot. And it’s nowhere as pretty as this.” He adds making sure I fully understand.

I grab his face in my hands and kiss him. As I pull away I stare at him with such a fond expression. “I’m eternally yours Lucifer.”

He pulls me back in and kisses me again, taking his time to enjoy the moment.

When we pull apart again, his eyes are filled with such raw love. He can’t help it. The feeling just overwhelms him.

Lucifer smiles at me and he cups my face in both of his hands this time, his eyes staring into my own.

"And I'm eternally yours, my love.” I start to giggle. “Does that mean I get to be the queen of Hell?”

A devilish grin spreads across his face at this thought. “Why yes, I think the title suits you just fine.” He winks at me as he stands up, pulling me up with him.

Lucifer also takes one last appreciative glance at the waterfall before turning to look at me.

His eyes are glittering as he smiles at me. "So, my love, are you ready to leave?" I nod.

“I like where this friendly little conversation led us.” I say as Lucifer gets ready to transport us to Hell.

The next moment, our surroundings are completely changed. The waterfall is gone now, replaced by the harshness of Hell.

“I told you there was nothing wrong with just a friendly chat to pass the time.” He teases me and I give him a huge smile.

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loopyarts · 4 months

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Rated teen and up warning before you read this fanfic it contains lots of heavy subjects such as dysfunctional/toxic family relationships, child abuse, bullying, death, blood and violence.

It was written by Me and shouts out to my editor Sangerie they went above and beyond making this the best it can be they even partly co-written the fic mainly the Sanji scenes near the end and Sora POV.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52099930 also here’s a link to the fic on Archiveofourown.org if prefer to read it there.

With all that said enjoy your read of oneshot fic of Ichiji. :3

Sora's Pov

Cries of pain echoed from Sora and all throughout the walls of Germa castle as she went into labour hours ago. She pushed with all her might as the midwives scurried about to-and-fro to aid her. Through teary eyes, she heard the cries of her first baby boy ring out before sunrise.

Her breathing was slow and ragged as the midwives held him up so she could gaze upon his features. He was a quiet newborn. He blinked around the room, unfazed by his surroundings as his deep yet dull ocean-blues that reflected her own gazed back back down at her.

Tufts of vibrant red hair strands fell down and framed his little chubby face. She longed to reach out and hold him so badly, but a shot of pain surged through her body. Her second son was clearly itching to get out.

As she braced herself with a deep breath, she noticed her husband, Judge, enter the room and watched as he was handed their firstborn son by a midwife. His face beamed with pride and joy.

"Ichiji. His name shall be Ichiji, and all throughout the North Blue–no, all throughout the world will know of him one day!" he laughed proudly as their son remained expressionless in his arms, blinking at him with dull eyes.

Sora's heart grew heavy as she watched Judge hold him almost as if he were a doll. Her body strained through labour and her spirit did too as she lamented that she'd failed her firstborn son while tears pricked the corners of her eyes at the knowledge that her husband had robbed Ichiji of his heart.

She watched on bitterly as he coddled Ichiji tenderly in his arms, giving him a love that she'd never seen him give to their daughter before. She gnashed her teeth as the long grueling morning marched forward.

23 minutes passed and out popped "Niji" with a round pouting face, squinting eyes and arms flailing about blindly as he whined ever so slightly. Not long after Niji came "Sanji" into the world wailing out loudly as he was washed and then placed neatly beside his brothers. And then finally 40 minutes later her fourth and final son, "Yonji" was born. He seemed to be a curious one as his eyes fluttered across the room and he babbled softly.His eyes settled on her for a moment, but much to her dismay he quickly lost interest in her and looked away with a dull blue expression, too.

After the many hours of pain, she laid her head down into the pillow with a heavy sigh. Sweat rolled down the sides of her face and she was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to hold her sons, but her eyes could barely stay open a second longer. Her vision narrowed, her body ached.

She will just have to coddle them tomorrow.

_______

Ichiji's Pov

Ichiji blinked as he stared up at the ceiling of the castle walls, he then felt one of his brothers latch onto him and snuggle him tightly. He turned his eyes to his left and gazed at his blonde brother who babbled and giggled as he cozied up further into Ichiji. He laid his head around Ichiji's stomach as he wrapped his arms around him in contentment.

Ichiji felt annoyed at first–he shifted around but stopped when he realised his brother wasn’t coming off.

He huffed to himself as he laid there hot, bothered and annoyed. Although after a while, it actually started to feel nice as his blonde haired brother clung to him. It felt warm, comfortable–safe. His eyelids grew heavy as he began drifting off to sleep along with him–cuddling back into him tightly.

_______

Ichiji was startled awake by voices. Quickly, he was being lifted up into the air with his blonde brother-along with his blue and green haired brothers carried in tow by another.

He'd wondered where they were going before they'd stopped in front of a woman with golden hair, basking in the beams of morning's light.

The strangers carrying them had then placed them into her warm embrace. She poured over them with her oceanic eyes and smiled fondly. "Hello my dears, I'm your mummy." she said in a soft honeyed voice.

Ichiji's dulled blues met her bright ones along with his brothers. They gazed up at her, taken in by her loving expression.

Her, now "mummy" began to comb through his red hair gently with her fingertips. Ichiji held a puzzled expression at her actions. He blinked at her, letting his head lay gently in her hand. He began to drift off while letting his brothers flail, giggle and babble to her while he relaxed in his mummy's embrace.

_______

At two years old, Ichiji walked about and around the playroom, it was playtime mother said (or "mummy" he called her sometimes–but father didn’t like that.) He would say to Mummy, "No son of mine would ever be calling their mother such a childish thing."

Ichiji found the toy box, it had dress-up stuff inside; it had probably belonged to his older sister, Reiju.

He dug inside the box and found a toy crown and placed it atop his head. He then found Sanji's blue blanket-or in Sanji's words–"blanky", he wrapped it around his shoulders and tied a knot to make a cape. Sanji wouldn’t mind if he borrows his blanky for just a little bit, Ichiji thought cheekily.

He set off to find mummy to show off his new kingly look to her, his little shoes pitter-pattered along the stone castle hallways towards his mother’s bedroom.

“Mummy!” called Ichiji in a happy yet deadpan-sounding tone as he entered the room to see that his mummy was reading a book cuddled up with Sanji whose eyes sparkled in awe as he was read to. Ichiji then stood proudly puffing up his chest attempting a smirk as best he could on his mostly static face.

“Look Mummy, I’m king now! Look at my majestic crown and cape!” he twirled a little as his mother giggled at him while Sanji looked a bit annoyed as he realised that the cape Ichiji was wearing was actually his blue blanket.

“Oh I see, aren’t you a handsome king” his mummy chuckled bookmarking Sanji's book and placing it on her lap as Sanji walked up to Ichiji with puffed cheeks.

“Ichiji, why do you have my blanky?” His younger brother asked, tilting his head with a pout yet curious expression on his face.

“It’s not a blanket Sanji, it’s a cape and I’m only borrowing for a short while, little brother.” Ichiji taunted.

“You’re a big meanie!” Sanji whined as he pounced on his eldest twin and knocked the toy crown off Ichiji's head to which the redhead responded by playfully fighting back. The pair tumbled about, giggles and laughter could be heard but mostly coming from Sanji. Ichiji grinned as he easily pinned Sanji down.

“I win” he said flatly yet filled with pride.

“No fair, you always win!” screamed Sanji as he tried to get Ichiji off of him. Ichiji looked down blankly and watched as Sanji struggled, he huffed and loosened his hold on his younger brother.

In the next moment, to his surprise–he'd found himself toppled to the floor and pinned down by Sanji instead, his tears had been a sly trick!

Sanji beamed at him proudly, "I-I did it?" he said, dumbfounded. It honestly amused Ichiji, he was always so dramatic over the simplest of things. Then again, Niji and Yonji both had similar reactions when he'd let them win, too. When Niji won, he'd grin cockily and taunt him with a "Ha! Who's the little brother now?" While Yonji would loudly and playfully cheer at his own victory.

Ichiji stayed on the ground as Sanji attempted to tickle him to no avail.

Just then, he heard his mother’s voice call out to them, saying how messy they had gotten from play-fighting and that she'd help tidy them up. Ichiji noticed then how messy his hair was, it was all fluffed out of place.

He walked up to the end of his mother's bed and promptly sat down. He watched idly as she first brushed Sanji's hair waiting for his turn.

Ichiji never had Mummy brush his hair before, it was usually the maids and servants that did that. Then again, rarely has it ever gotten dirty or messy unless he was training. He was tidiest out of all of his brothers, even Reiju in some rare cases.

As his Mother finished brushing Sanji's hair, she looked at him with a smile and asked “Would you like me to brush your hair too, Ichiji?” He nodded yes to his mummy and crawled on over to her side, sitting where Sanji was, while Sanji took his spot placing himself at the end of mummy’s bed.

His Mummy hummed as she gently brushed through his messy red hair. It felt nice. He peeked up at his mummy, fidgeting his fingers slightly.

She continued to brush his hair humming her tune. “You know, Ichiji...you have such soft hair just like your mummy and your big sister. It makes it much easier to brush–” she chuckled a bit and then continued, “unlike your brothers, who have your father’s much thicker hair.” Ichiji dully blinked at his mother as something similar to a genuine small smile crept onto his face. He wondered why mummy broke down into tears and pulled him into her embrace, holding him tightly at the sight of his smile. He was confused–"Mummy and Sanji are so strange", he thought.

_______

At four years old, Ichiji was honestly still so confused by Sanji. Why was he always slacking off and playing with rodents? It was not playtime, it was training time. He managed to drag Sanji back, although he was clearly not happy about it. He shivered at the mere sight of Ichiji and the redhead didn’t understand why. He was just doing what was necessary to make sure Sanji got back in line. Why did he insist on defying father if he knew it would make him angry?

_______

After the training, they all played in the garden with mummy. It was one of rare times she was allowed out of her room given her sickly condition. Niji was running around chasing Sanji, who hopped over Yonji causing Niji to slam into him.

Ichiji shook his head, his younger brothers were all such fools in their own way. Sanji cried, running behind their mother–or "mummy" why does he still call her that, anyway?

He stared down at the grass with his head propped up by his hands as his dull eyes locked onto a butterfly. He didn’t understand why he fixed his stare on the insect, but the yellow and gold wings reminded him of mother. The butterfly took off however, the moment Ichiji was suddenly pushed onto his stomach from behind. He was now covered in dirt, blades of grass and scattered petals from the flower patch below him.

“Gotcha, Ichi!” laughed Niji, lying on top of him covered in dirt with leaves sticking out of that blue hair of his. Ichiji huffed in annoyance as he hopped up, knocking Niji off of him in the process. He glanced down at the sight of himself–he hated being dirty. He shot an icey cold glare at Niji causing his younger brother to flinch and turn on his heels rushing away to join Yonji who was kicking a ball around with Reiju in the distance.

He didn’t understand Niji and Yonji sometimes and how they could run around like idiots–seemingly not having a care in the world about getting dirty or keeping up appearances.

Ichiji sighed as he walked over to his mummy who was resting with Sanji in the shade,who held his favorite book close to his chest as laid his head next to mummy's side. His annoyance rose at the sight of them together, "why does Sanji get her attention all of the time?" Ichiji thought as he approached his mother and tugged at her dress gently.

"Oh, Ichiji! What is it sweetheart?” asked his Mummy. His deep dull blues looked up into her glistening ones as he pointed at his untidy hair covered in dirt and fauna and then pointed over to his mother's brush quietly.

“Ohh, I see...so you want me to brush your hair and tidy it up a bit–is that right?” she smiled and patted her lap, signaling Ichiji to sit down there. He propped himself up and sat quietly in his mother’s lap. She began plucking the petals and grass out of his fluffy red hair, treating him delicately.

She dusted him off and then began brushing through his red locks. He relaxed and closed his eyes as she began to hum a familiar tune while running her brush and warm hands through his hair gently.

His siblings chattered off in the background–a cool salty breeze blew by. He liked moments like these between just him and her.

Reiju skipped over a rope gleefully as it was held by Niji and Yonji at opposite ends, swinging it over and under in sync. Sanji sat at his and mummy's side reading his favourite book–"The All Blue" as he recalled. The story was a fairy tale but for some reason, Sanji believed it was real.

Ichiji closed his eyes and listened to his mother humming away with cheer in her voice as birds flew overhead and his siblings giggled and laughed happily in the distance .

It would have been nice if good moments like those lasted forever–but good things never do.

In fact, he only saw his mother again 4 more times after that.

_______

It was so strange, lately he barely had time to think. Most days were spent training day in and day out like clockwork. Sanji was getting on his nerves as he was always falling behind–he couldn't even take down a simple foot soldier. Ichiji thought it was no wonder that he got his ass handed to him by Niji and Yonji so often.

“Why is he so weak?” he muttered to himself in a hushed tone. Weren't they born from the same womb? They'd shared a crib for the first few weeks of their lives and practically did almost everything together...yet only he was so different, why?

Just then, he heard a sharp crash followed by someone wailing. He watched as Sanji burst out of a room and ran past him in tears. He then saw their father walk out shortly after, “Pay no mind to that failure, he’ll get over it.” was all his father said as he continued to walk away.

Ichiji curiously made his way into the room shortly after to inspect the scene. He then noticed the broken window with splashes of food on it. He pushed up a chair and hopped atop it to look down only to see a spot of red below and what looked to be a dead rodent surrounded by shards of what once was a plate and a discarded meal scattered about.

"Is this really what he was crying on about?" Ichiji sighed. How could he cry for lowly vermin?

He hopped down from the chair and briskly made his way back to the training grounds so as to not keep his father waiting.

_______

Ichiji never sees his mother much anymore. Too busy with training and studying, then again–when has he had any free time at all in this past year?

Father boasted how proud he was of him and that he wanted to push him harder, saying it would help him become a better king when he’s older. So Father doubled his training and studying for this year.

Ichiji's body felt hot for some reason–he stayed up late last night because those were the only hours he had time to himself these days to relax. He liked how quiet it was whenever he went out in the garden at night to stargaze. Sometimes he’d bring a book as well to read under the glow of his lantern.

Suddenly he began to cough, he blinked in confusion. Why was he coughing so much? He stroked his throat as it grew sore. He continued to walk through the castle hallways and he noticed how the maids looked at him with pity in their eyes as he kept coughing and coughing. He heard them whispering from under their breaths–“Poor dear” said one.

“Maybe if it were Prince Sanji, I would feel more pity.” scoffed another.

“But, I thought those monsters couldn’t get sick?" said the third in a confused tone.

Despite the servants' attempted whispers, Ichiji had heard it all. He coughed profusely once again and carried on with a groan. This was starting to get on his nerves. He made his way to the library and sat down with materials to study. When he tried to start taking notes, his hand began to shake. He attempted to steady it but it wouldn't obey and the ink from his quill fell to the page leaving wobbly indecipherable scribbles in the place of words.

This shocked the young prince. He threw the pen aside and slammed the book closed in frustration. “Ahh! What in the world's wrong with me today!?” Ichiji shouted in a monotone voice–even his screams of anger and frustration were quieter than all of his brothers.

He then lifted his face up from the table, his vision was getting a little fuzzy. He shook his head to clear it up and coughed with a wheeze into his hand. He then thought of mother’s room–almost by instinct, he started to rush over to the infirmary where his mother's room was while coughing all the way there.

As soon as Ichiji entered her room, his mother sat up with surprise at his sudden arrival. "Ichiji-!" his mother said with cheer "Oh, it's been so long since I've seen you last! How have you been, my dear?" He made his way over to her, "Mother.." he said flat and breathlessly as he climbed up into her bed and seeped down by her side, looking up at her with hazy eyes.

Her skin had grown so pale since the last time he'd last seen her. She looked almost transparent, like a ghost. Her once golden hair now carried only a drop of the vibrant glow it once had.

He talked to her about his training and how he's been working very hard. She nodded along, smiling softly at him–until he mentioned how his father had been giving him extra special training. This seemed to have upset his mother after hearing that.

As the conversation carried on, his coughing fit flared back up again and his mother bounced up with great attention and worry. She placed the back of her chilly hand to his forehead, "Ichiji, you're burning up-!" she said with great worry in her tone. He began to feel faint and the room spun more as his coughing continued in his mother's arms. She held him closer and whispered gently, "Rest now, Ichiji. Don't worry, mummy will take care of you."

There was that word again, "mummy".

His eyes began to grow heavy almost as soon as he'd gotten permission to rest. He snuggled further into the warmth of her embrace. A strange rhythm in her chest became his lullaby as he drifted off to sleep.

_______

As he slept on, he thought he'd heard yelling, although it was faint and everything sounded muffled as if it had been underwater.

It sounded like...mother and father? Were they yelling at each other? His breath rushed a bit and then halted more as the voices drew near him and became clearer.

"How could you!? He's only 7 years old, Judge!"

"I will do whatever I must to ensure that he reaches the height of his potential! You need to stop treating them as if they were average children, Sora!"

A pained scoff fell out of her, "Are you truly the man that I married? What happened to the man that swore he'd do anything for his family–? Or has your pride and ambition to bring back the 'glory days' of Germa turned you into a blind and heartless fool!?"

"Sora–why can't you see that I'm building a future for us all? Ichiji is to be the future king of Germa, failure is not an option! He must be strong, he must be the best of the best! I must make sure that he is perfect! Together we will retake the North Blu–"

A stifled sob came from her, cutting him short as she coldly turned her back to him and faced towards the still and silent Ichiji wrapped up in her bed, "You've taken enough, haven't you? You've taken his heart, his freedom, his will–why can't you see...? There's nothing left to take anymore."

Loud footsteps plodded away followed by the sound of a heavy door closing behind him. A moment of silence hung in the air before his mother sat down softly beside him and stroked his hair ever so gently. He then felt warm wet droplets rain down over his cheeks followed by an embrace with quiet sobs at his side.

His eyes remained too heavy to open them and his ears rang louder. Why was she crying? And what did they mean by all of that before? His mind became fuzzy again as he drifted back off into a deep sleep.

_______

When he woke up, it was already late at night. He turned his head to see he was laying by his mother's side as she held him close. He still felt dizzy, but he laid in her embrace looking up. Tear stains were dried on her cheeks. Why did she cry to this extent? Was it because of him?

Ichiji yawned and cuddled in closer to his mother and then he heard something in her chest–the same rhythm as earlier, "ba-thump, ba-thump" it went. How strange...was this part of her illness? And yet...the sound was nice. He slipped away into sleep just like that.

_______

In the morning, his mum's personal maid ("Époni", as he recalled) came into her room and halted with a horrified expression at the sight of the two. She wasted no time in hurrying up to the redhead to collect him away from his Mummy. In a panicked voice she pulled him away explaining that if he stayed with his mother, he could potentially give the queen his fever and rapidly deteriorate her health further. Ichiji looked back and saw the sadness in his mother's eyes as he was guided away from her side.

He spent the next few days bedridden and was forced to lay there with nothing to do, much to his annoyance. He'd run his hand across his red satin sheets out of sheer boredom. Worst of all, Niji and Yonji would stop by only to just taunt him for getting sick. In the redhead's mind, he hoped they'd get sick as well so he could get back at them.

"Just you wait, Niji, Yonji...!" the eldest had a devilish plan brewing indeed. Once he was fully recovered, they were in for a nasty surprise.

_______

Ichiji was very pleased indeed as he heard from the maids and staff within the castle chattering on about how Prince Niji and Yonji were now also bedridden by a sick bug caused by mysterious food poisoning.

He giggled to himself in a tone so flat that it was almost creepy. His little prank had worked. He slipped into the kitchen the night before and spiked their soup with a few special ingredients of his own–a slightly mouldy turnip, some dirt and a slug for each of them. He was surprised they didn’t notice the odd taste as they consumed it all.

“They’re so stupid!” he laughed monotonously once more as he headed to the training grounds. Now they have to miss a few days of training too, he thought snidely to himself. Strangely enough though, his father seemed to have lightened up on his training schedule. Instead of double the work; it was just the same as his sister and brothers.

However, his father set a cold gaze upon him today and Ichiji didn't like it. He tried to shake off his father's piercing stare and focus on his training.

Sanji still fell behind the same as ever, but what else was new? Meanwhile Reiju nearly outran the hotblooded prince himself that day on the running course.

Almost beating him in a race?! He would not stand for that. He wasn't going to let Reiju of all people get the satisfaction of beating him on the track, that'd be shameful! He'd just have to work even harder from now on.

_______

After training he saw Sanji heading into their mother’s room. He peeked inside to see them laughing together. Ichiji blinked between the two, why are they laughing? There is nothing to laugh about. Ichiji's mouth felt dry. Mother only ever smiles like that for him. What in the world made Sanji so special? Sanji's just a good for nothing failure; meanwhile Ichiji himself is far from it.

He stopped peeking from around the corner and continued walking down the hall, remaining vexed by his swirling thoughts.

It's not fair.

"...it's not fair!!" he roared out in anger, slamming his fist into the wall causing it to shake by the force of the blow. The wall cracked and left behind a crater the size of his fist as he pulled it away. What is this fury that brews inside him, making his body tremble and his teeth grind within his mouth?

Why couldn't he make his mother smile like Sanji can?

_______

Throughout the week, he continued to see Sanji; he couldn’t stand him at this point. Why is he always trying to cook mother a meal? He should be training! He started to hate mother as well–she only ever pays attention to Reiju and Sanji nowadays, it’s not fair! All she ever gives him is a look of pity and sadness. Then again, she always loved Sanji more. He hated it so much-! Niji's jealousy was far greater than his, though–to the point that he harassed Sanji every chance he got or whenever saw him exit mother’s room.

But on the last day of that week, something in Ichiji snapped and he made a mistake he'd regret for the rest of his life.

"I hate you!", Ichiji said with enough venom that it pierced through his normal dull tone.

He towered over the cowering Sanji as he cried against the side of his mother's bed. Ichiji continued hurling insult after insult his way, rubbing salt in his wounds further.

"I sometimes wish you were dead, so I no longer have to see your fa–" he was cut off abruptly by the impact of his mother's frail hand meeting the side of his face.

Her weak body trembled as she struggled to remain standing upright. She shot daggers out of her eyes at Ichiji–a sight he'd never seen from his mother before.

"Don't you EVER say that to your brother again-do you hear me, Ichiji!?" she yelled with tears dousing her fiery eyes as she shielded Sanji from him with her body.

Ah, he'd made her cry again…

A moment passed as she made Sanji leave the room saying she'd like to have a word alone with Ichiji. He stood there frozen in place with a stoney expression as Sanji nodded quietly and turned away from Ichiji and their mother to exit the room. The door clicked behind him and then it was just Ichiji and mother.

As she approached him, his breath grew heavier and hitched in his throat when his eyes met her cold gaze. It wasn't the first time he'd been looked at this way by someone, but this time it felt different.

His legs began to buckle and his marked cheek stung the more she yelled at him and cried. But it was when her voice fell and she said softly "I'm so sorry my love, I've failed you-" something in the normally quiet Ichiji just snapped like it never had before as he yelled at the top of his lungs, "I hate you! I hate you, mother!! You're a liar–!" He closed his eyes tightly, feeling his whole body tremble with rage, "You've never loved me or Niji or Yonji the same way you love Sanji, so don't you lie to me!!" he finished huffing and panting and then suddenly he felt something wet–something warm slide down his cheeks.

His mother looked on in shock as her hand covered her mouth. "I-Ichiji, I'm-" her voice trembled as she hesitantly reached out.

Ichiji didn't understand this unfamiliar feeling that was overcoming him but his mind went blank and he turned on his heels bursting out of the room fleeing the scene as his mother fell to the floor crying out to him begging him to come back. Her voice grew smaller and more faint the further he ran through the corridors.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" her voice still lingered and rang in his ears even though he could not hear her anymore.

He ran into his room and threw himself onto his bed, burying himself deeper into it. He couldn't stop the hot unpleasant wetness from flowing out of his eyes.

_______

After some time had passed, Ichiji lifted his head from his pillow which was now dampened by the mysterious liquid from his eyes. He got up to look in the mirror and inspect his face–his eyes were puffy and red, did that water really come from there?

He walked over to his window–it was sunset now and orange dyed the sky in its vibrant hue. The sun's rays bounced off Ichiji's scarlet red hair as it dipped down slowly behind Germa's high walls. He'd calmed down now, sitting by the window transfixed on the far off horizon. He felt so confused. He was supposed to be "perfect" but then why did he-? His thoughts drifted back to his mother and his chest grew heavy. He just couldn't understand.

"I have to go see her again–" Ichiji made up his mind, standing up with determination. He made his way over to the door but then paused for a moment, deciding to pick up his crimson hair brush on his way out–he didn't know why but he felt he needed it.

When he arrived at her door he hesitantly peeked inside her room. And there he saw her sitting up in her bed with glassy and distant eyes facing the window as she watched some birds fly by.

Slowly, he stepped into her room and climbed up onto her bed, making his way to her side. He then took his brush in hand and began to brush her hair remembering the times she used to brush his. He thought that maybe this will make his mother–mummy happy?

His mum took notice of him as he remained fixated on brushing her hair. He went through her soft golden locks steadily bit by bit. And then he felt something gliding through his own hair–his mum reached back behind his head with her own brush and faced towards him brushing his hair in return. She gave him a small genuine smile with cheerful eyes as they held a peaceful silence between the two of them brushing each other's hair back and forth for a while.

The silence broke however when his mother spoke up, "Is this your way of apologising to me, Ichiji?" she inquired. He looked up at her blankly and tilted his head, he was a little confused–was this really some type of apology? He wondered.

"I forgot–you've never been a big talker, you've always been such a quiet boy.." she continued to brush his fringe, "and yet you're a good listener aren't you–you always listen to what Niji and Yonji have to say." Ichiji nodded along–but in the back of his mind he thought about the real reason why he didn't talk much. It wasn't because he didn't want to but because he found speaking to be so tiresome.

Sometimes Niji would speak for him and he liked that. It made his life so much easier when his loudmouth brother did all the talking–although he and Niji still did butt heads every now and then.

With Yonji, he loves attention and enjoys prattling on about things that interest him. Right now it's bread. Ugh seriously, why bread of all things...? But even still, it's nice that he talks on and on–filling the air so he didn't have to.

Ichiji remained quiet, continuing brushing his mum's hair as he lingered a little longer on the thoughts of his brothers.

"Mhm, maybe..." he muttered back to her. His hand stopped brushing and gently lowered a bit as he closed his eyes while his mother continued on brushing his. She made her way through the rest of his cowlicks and smoothed them out one by one as the brush caught the loose strands in its grasp. His mind drifted away. He wondered why she was even brushing his hair–wasn't she still mad at him? This thought made his chest feel weighted again...but maybe–maybe mother would know?

"Mother...my chest hurts, am I ill again?" he said, pointing to the side of his chest where the ache was.

His mother then placed her hand at the spot where he pointed and said to him, "That is your heart, Ichiji. Sometimes when something is bothering us, our hearts react to how we're feeling." She closed her eyes and lowered her head, resting it against his chest, "And having a heart is, well–it's what makes someone human." his heart pinched at her words that were laced with a hint of pain.

She sighed and held him all the tighter, "I'm so sorry, Ichiji...I wish I had known sooner."

The redheaded prince didn't understand, why was his mother apologising to him? What did she mean by she "wished she knew sooner"? He didn't know the answer–but he reached out and started to pat his mother's head and then he wrapped his arms around her gently.

They stayed in each other's embrace for what felt like hours (his internal clock told him it had only been 20 minutes, though.) He looked up outside her window and saw that it had already become dusk. He pulled away steadily from her, "Mother, it's getting late. I should be getting back to my room now." he felt his frail mother tighten her grip on him and she whispered weakly with glassy eyes, "Ichiji, sweetie, can't you stay just a little bit longer?" Ichiji didn't know what to think of her request...no–it was more like a desperate plea for him to stay.

He could easily pull away and break her hold on him if he wanted to–yet seeing her tired eyes made him ache for some reason. He then nodded with an affirming "mhm..." and leaned back into her. Despite her ghostly appearance, she was still just as warm as he'd remembered. She pulled him down to rest with her and began to hum a nostalgic tune as her silken fingertips petted him softly. He couldn't see his mother's expression, but he could tell she was happy.

_______

Sunlight filtered through the window and into his heavy lidded eyes causing him to groan. He raised himself up and blinked idly around for a moment before looking down towards his mother.

"Good morning, mo–" he stopped in his tracks. She wasn't moving. He then reached out and held his hand to her face–ice cold to the touch. Her lips held a soft smile with ruby red stains that painterly poured down her chin and pooled into the ridges of her sunken neck. "M-mummy-?" her eyes once bright like ocean mornings were now dull and cloudy like rainy skies. Lifeless. He began to shiver and in a desperate attempt, he grabbed his hairbrush and began to brush her faded hair hoping it would become the vibrant gold it once was again.

When it didn't work, he halted and the brush slipped from his hand. He couldn't move, he couldn't feel anything. He stared at her in shock until he heard a piercing scream come from the doorway, "Ahh! Prince Ichiji!! What on earth are you doing!? What have you done to the queen!?" yelled his mother's maid, Époni as she gasped in fright with mother's morning meal smashing to the floor.

He didn't understand her insinuation at first but then he looked down to his hands and shirt and saw that they were stained with the same ruby red colour that trickled from his mother's lips. He realised then what she thought he had done.

No–he didn't do it! He didn't do that to her-!

The terrified maid scowled at him with a fierce glare and at the sight of her weighty judgment, his eyes became wet again–the warm liquid poured down his cheeks and his vision blurred. Seeing this, the maid's expression softened and her anger melted away. In a flash she rushed over to him and picked him up with a hug, "Ohh, don't cry you poor dear!" startled by the abrupt shift in mood, Ichiji watched as the maid fell into tears along with him for some reason.

"I'm going to miss her, too!" she sobbed.

“Miss her"...is that why he's crying?

He froze as she cried into him and found himself wondering how she could go from being terrified of him to coddling him? She was really a strange woman indeed.

_______

Nobody found out he was in mother's room that day and yet rumors and whispers still scurried throughout the halls that the queen had been murdered by one of her devil sons.

He'd pass by and hear the murmurs thinking that the servants honestly had way too much free time if they could spin up that huge web of lies in such a short span of time.

It was complete and utter rubbish and yet he felt offended, but why?

_______

Mother's death was strange. Being at her funeral was strange. He stood in deep thought recalling how his mother's eyes were so cold and yet she still had a warm smile on her face even in death. He just couldn’t get that image of her out of his mind. He looked over to his other siblings–his older sister Reiju and younger brother Sanji were crying while his other younger brothers Niji and Yonji looked confused and bored. Ichiji felt nothing, yet something weighed on him; he never got to apologise to his mother did he? Not that it matters anymore...she was dead now and nothing will ever change that.

_______

In the evening, Ichiji laid down on his stomach in his bed with a book and started reading. His expression was as stoic and stoney as ever. He found himself sighing as loose strands of hair fell into view in front of his face. Just then, he heard someone come into his room but he couldn't be bothered to see who it was and so he kept on reading.

Much to his own surprise, he'd picked a fairy tale book today. One that he and mother used to read together–"Iron Hans" it was called. Everytime he reads the tale, he feels a sense of karma to it. Despite it being make-believe and a folktale, he found it rather endearing.

“He raised himself up quickly but the whole of the hair of his head was already golden and shone like the su-” Ichiji paused his reading–someone was behind him.

He peered over his shoulder to see who the trespasser was, only to find Sanji!? Whose face was still stained wet with tears from earlier that day and in his hand was...his crimson hair brush?

"Sanji-" Ichiji said with some surprise, colouring his tone at the sight of his younger brother. It wasn't long before Sanji piped up, "I-I'm sorry, Ichiji...I should have told you I was here." he began to fidget where he stood, "It's just that...I remembered how much you loved it when mummy brushed your hair before, so I–"

'God...', Ichiji thought when he heard the word "mummy" fall out from Sanji's mouth. And of course it was Sanji of all people that would say such a strange thing. He wanted to brush his hair just because mother used to? Why? It wasn't even particularly untidy at the moment and besides, if he wanted to brush it; he could just do it himself for crying out loud. There was no need for all of this.

“I don’t need you to brush my hair, you failure. I can do it by myself.” Ichiji glared at his smaller brother and shot upwards to snatch his brush back from him.

“And even if I wanted my hair to be brushed by another–it would be an insult to have it done by the likes of you, so scram!" his blonde brother broke into a sob at his words and began to yell back at him in anger. This surprised Ichiji as Sanji was normally so meek in his presence. It was rare for Sanji to even talk back to him at all. He looked down at his younger brother watching his wet eyes simmering with a roaring fire behind them–he hadn't heard a word he said but his eyes told him all the same.

"I was only trying to help you, Ichiji–you big jerk-!" Sanji yelled with eyes falling to the floor, "Reiju was right about you and the others–" he continued with fists shaking, "you really are just heartless monsters!" he shouted one last time before turning his back and running off, leaving the room cold again.

A "monster"? Is that what he was?

He didn't cry at the funeral, but his chest felt heavy again at Sanji's biting words. He'd made Sanji cry again...although, that wasn't particularly rare. But Ichiji thought it felt different this time as he grabbed his chest and quietly hunched down with wet eyes of his own.

_______

Not long after the death of their mother–their father announced that Sanji had died to all of Germa. But Ichiji knew better than to take his father at his word. He'd later spotted a servant sneaking off carrying a tray with covered food down into the dungeon depths and discovered the real truth behind the "death" of Sanji. He'd been locked up and caged like an animal, placed in an iron mask that hid his face from view.

"If Sanji had just done what he was told..." Ichiji thought, "then none of this would have happened."

The brother's traveled down into the depths to continue their harassment of Sanji once they learned the truth of his whereabouts.

They found that he was cooking even in the depths of the dirty grimey dungeon.

A familiar scene played out once more where he'd found himself in front of Sanji as he'd just baked a cake with a cream and strawberry topping. Ichiji snatched it from his hand just as he did before–and all the same, Sanji sprang at him with a punch that reverberated a loud clang echoing in the depths.

Ichiji could hardly believe it–after all this time, Sanji was still so terribly weak. Ichiji's body shook with fury and his vision turned red as he lunged forward with a growl, taking Sanji down and pinning him to the floor.

His chest erupted with a burning heat as he began to wail on the younger for displaying such a pathetic sight. The echoes of the other two laughing bounced off the walls and rang throughout their ears as he kept beating down further and further.

''You're an embarrassment–you embarrass even me!" just the sight of him made his blood boil, he was the source of his rage–that's right, it was him! It was all his fault!! All of his pain was because of Sanji, wasn't it? It was always him from the very start!

Catharsis overcame him as his fist became bloodied. He released his rage as Sanji sobbed beneath him, attempting to claw back and begging him to stop–crying out how it hurts. But he wasn't going to fall for his tears again, not this time.

When Ichiji finally stopped, he rose up and pulled away from the bruised and battered Sanji. He stood up and over him and felt that Sanji had become even smaller than before. Ichiji looked down at the ruby red dripping from his fists and he left without a word, leaving Niji and Yonji to their own devices.

As he walked away, he crunched some remaining shards of the shattered plate that once carried the cake beneath the heel of his boot.

It was their 8th birthday today and he felt nothing. He only tasted bitterness in his mouth.

He brought his bloodied hand to his face and stroked his cheek where Sanji had landed the blow. There wasn't even a bruise there. Honestly, he was pathetic beyond all measure. Why would he ever expect any different?

Sanji was Sanji. A failure will always be a failure.

_______

Sanji had gone off and ran away not long after the incident in the dungeon. Despite him leaving, not much had changed between those that remained. Years began passing by like clockwork for Ichiji as every day settled in a fixed routine. The boy was becoming a man quickly as he remained ever static and cold.

He laid on the experiment table often as the scientists dug into his body, refining him into an even more perfect soldier. Scalpels and needles poking and prodding him became something normal that he'd bear with a dull and never changing expression. One scientist however was rather strange, often reaching out and remarking about the color and softness of his hair calling it "pretty". But what use does that spoken sentiment hold to a weapon? What a waste of breath.

_______

At 12 years old, he was sent on his first mission with Reiju tagging along to teach him how things were done and show him the ropes. Most of the opponents were easily mowed down by Ichiji.

On the battlefield he was called many things–freak of nature, devil, monster.

The rain started to fall heavy that day as blood ran from the corpses littering the streets with it. His hair flattened in the rain as he walked through the broken roads that reeked of sulfur, dampened smoke and iron. He still felt nothing as he looked on at the decay around him. But then his chest began to twinge and his heartbeat fell as he took it all in. He still couldn't understand why.

"Their lives were all so meaningless" he thought–but then again, so was his.

Even if he died, he wouldn't care. He was made to not fear death–he cannot fear it. Death was just another worthless word to him, no different than "pretty".

Ichiji may have been a child but he wasn't naive in knowing that death came for all. The world is cold and humans are ugly–he couldn't change this fact.

He stopped and faced his head towards the sky, taking in the sound of the rain crashing down from up above him. It carried bloody water his way, creating small rivers that branched off as it hit his boots.

At least the rain sounded peaceful.

_______

On one of his missions at age 14 and a half, the young prince happened upon a lost kitten who seemed to have been left behind without its mother–wandering in search of her. Ichiji made up his mind to promptly put the small stray out of its misery and end its life as he knew it wasn't long for this world anyway all on its own. He reached out with cold and malicious intent only to feel his heart thump in his chest and skip a beat when the kitten buried its round face into his hand and mewled happily in the act of doing so.

Against the "emotionless" young prince's better judgment, he picked up the lost kitten and carried it back to Germa in his arms. He didn't know how his father would react, but luckily his father was too busy making preparations for an upcoming political meeting he, Ichiji and his siblings were to attend. It was of such high importance that his father paid little mind to the new creature now rummaging within the castle, let alone the detail of who had brought it in.

Ichiji had named her "Nyasha". At first, he wasn't quite sure how to treat her. He'd either hold her wrong or be "too rough" with her as the observing servants would remark in hushed voices within an earshot distance from him.

He had no idea what she wanted when she circled him with a barrage of meows or how to tend to her.

Funnily enough, it was seemingly the most timid servant that approached him and offered the suggestion that petting her gently would please her. The servant then crouched down and began to rub the side of Nyasha's chin with her fingers as an example.

"Gently"? Who am I, Sanji? Ichiji thought to himself with almost a scoff at the notion. But low and behold, Nyasha began to purr away in delight. After a moment, the servant removed her hand from the kitten, "Now you give it a try, Prince Ichiji." she said stepping up and back, giving the two space "Nya would enjoy it even more if it were you. She loves you most, after all."

Ichiji paused for a moment to fully absorb her words, realising just then that the woman that stood before him had actually been quite brave indeed. He then turned his head to Nyasha and began to quietly imitate what he'd been shown. Nyasha looked up at him with eyes big and adoring, she purred in contentment, blinking them slowly at him.

"Love" huh? Was that what this was?

_______

In the evenings, Ichiji would give the ever-growing Nyasha all of the attention she deserved. She'd lay with him and stargaze in the fresh cut grass and she'd even let him read aloud to her or vent his daily frustrations. It didn't matter how flat his voice was or what he'd say, she'd sit with him and listen all the same. He'd found that animals were much easier to understand than humans.

From time to time as Nyasha grew, he'd wonder how strange it was that she had almost tripled in size. She was unusually big for a cat and she had even grown to be half the height of the young prince himself. She grew without any definitive end in sight or so it seemed. Was it something he'd been feeding her? He would question. She was quite chubby, after all.

But as he watched her roll in the grass pleasantly beside him, he concluded that while she may be an anomaly in her own right, it didn't really matter.

Ichiji faced his head up towards the sky–the stars twinkled above them as a cool salty breeze blew through the garden, rustling the leaves on the bushes and nipping through his hair. Nyasha nestled herself into his arms and he couldn't help but feel a small smile creep onto his face.

_______

Present day

Ichiji fell to his bed when he returned home. He was exhausted. Saving Niji and Yonji was no easy feat, especially with the dead weight that was Caesar Clown also tagging along. His raid suit was torn and covered in burn marks–his face was covered in cuts and bruises along the whole of his body, too. His hair hung tangled and messy in the view of his face. At this point, he didn't even care anymore. He was far too tired to even think about getting up to tidy it.

Honestly, it was hard to fully absorb everything that had happened in such a short span of time. Between the wedding preparations and Sanji's return to Germa as a prince–well, rather than saying he'd "returned", a better choice of words would be that he'd been dragged back and forced into an arranged marriage between he and a daughter from the Charlotte family.

And then there was also the matter of the admittedly intimidating Big Mum and her practically endless slough of children at her fingertips.

He was supposed to have died that day, they all were. They were ensnared in a trap and all that was left was the order to pull the trigger–but then Sanji appeared before them and shattered what bound them all beneath the heel of his shoe in an instant. Ichiji just couldn't fathom why. After all he'd done to him...didn't Sanji despise him, hate him even? Why would he go as far to save someone who he'd once called a "heartless monster"?

No, Ichiji knew it had nothing to do with him. Sanji had just done it to spare Reiju's life, that much was obvious. But even still...it moved Ichiji to the point that he sprang into action moments after.

He mulled over all that had happened days before in his head. Thirteen years had passed between them but Sanji remained just as confusing as he ever was.

He thought back to his childhood days and the turbulent feelings that overcame him at times throughout the years.

Perhaps his father...had been wrong about Sanji, and maybe Ichiji himself had been wrong, too. Perhaps Sanji's kindness was never the grand weakness he'd thought it to be. Maybe...he and Sanji weren't so different after a–

It was then that Ichiji's thoughts came to a halt as he sensed a sudden presence standing behind him. He removed his sunglasses and looked over his shoulder only to find Reiju standing there with a slightly curious expression.

"Well, that's a surprise–you never take those things off. What an honour–" she jested with a smile and continued, "Wow–I'd forgotten how much your eyes looked like mums. Such a rich and deep blue–just like the night sky..." she remarked leaning forward just a tad to soak in the rare view.

Ichiji blinked, pausing for a moment at her words–were his eyes really just like mothers? He'd always thought that Sanji's–hell, even Niji or Yonji's eyes looked more similar to hers when compared to his deep ocean-blues.

Ichiji sat up, "Right. So...why are you here?" Ichiji inquired with a monotone inflection, "Do you have something important to say, or are you just here to annoy me?"

To his surprise, she'd then revealed a pink hairbrush that she'd been holding out from behind her back. "I remembered how mother used to brush your hair. You always looked so happy and content when she did it, so..." she drew in closer, "I just thought you might enjoy having your hair brushed by me as well." Ichiji wanted to protest her assumptions but he held his silence for a moment. He was too tired to argue.

"I can brush my own hair, Reiju. I'm not a child any longer." He muttered in a low tone.

She then reached forward and began to brush away as if she didn't hear his reply. Soot and ashes fell from his hair as she kept at it diligently. He sat up further and maintained his silence as he accepted she was stubbornly going to do this whether he wanted her to or not.

It was strange to have his hair brushed by Reiju of all people. And yet...it still felt nice. Comforting, even. He closed his eyes in contentment and in his mind he saw a faint memory of his mother.

He remembered as she hummed that tune while gliding the brush carefully through his cowlicks. He saw her golden locks cascaded over her shoulders as he viewed her from below. His memories of her were faded now but he could still hear her tune and see her smile backlit by the sun. She spoke to him but he could no longer remember the words.

The memory dissipated as the brush left his hair in better form now. "There...all done." Reiju said, doing the remaining finishing touches with her fingertips.

"Good." He got up to pat the dust from earlier that day off of his clothes. He then turned to his sister and looked her up and down with just his eyes–she looked so much like their mother now, it was almost scary.

"Thank you, Reiju..." he spoke softly. At his words, his usually stoic sister lit up a bit and smiled softly in return. He didn't understand why she'd go this far–didn't she hate him? Wasn't he just another heartless monster in her eyes as she once told Sanji?

"Anytime." she said. He nodded in reply and then she slowly turned, leaving the room with a faint warmth it didn't have before.

Ichiji walked up to the window, taking in the pale of the moon. He thought of Niji and Yonji pinned in Big Mom's book like butterflies in some sick display. The night carried on right before his eyes and soon the sun's rays pierced through the high walls of the crumbled desolate country that was known as Germa.

A bird took flight outside his window, becoming one with the sky. It reminded him of his once-weak brother, Sanji as it disappeared and flew far out of view.

His mind wandered further as he rested his head against the wall and closed his heavy eyes.

A small thought popped into his head as he drifted off–he'd wondered if one day they, too, could fly off.

To become free, just as he was.

#vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke sora #vinsmoke reiju #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke family #vinsmoke siblings #vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #Fiction #short story fanfic #oneshot fanfiction #cover art #digtal art #my art #my fanfiction #Me in head I’m expecting many to read this :> but I don’t mind as long people who leaves note like it #Ichiji has rotted my brain and I that this whole fanfic and cover art is done I can now rest peacefully knowing that it is done #one piece

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nichenarratives · 7 months

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Crescendo

An Obscure Oneshot

Inspired by this post.

Deep within the forested trails of Missouri, an orange aura licks the midnight sky, casting a glow as potent as the early morning sun over the trees. Closer, the crackle of wood as flames engulf an inconspicuous log cabin is as intrusive as the heat itself radiating from the cabin's carcass, a bright, monstrous creature waning and waxing with the wind, too powerful to be thwarted by the thin flurry of snow fluttering down on the three who watch the building burn.

To the left, an austere feline with a strong jaw and face stripes hunches forward to light a cigarette. Despite his proximity, Atlas May has done little to set these wheels in motion; he arrived with the other two and set them upon the establishment instead, holding back to watch his pilfered heavy hitter and triggerman work their first mission together, gauging if his earlier deduction - that they would be perfect partners - were accurate.

Smoke lit, the striped feline straightens and flicks his match into the snow, where it promptly extinguishes. He raises his gaze to the flaming cabin and calmly drags on his cigarette, relishing the heat it brings to his chest, enjoying the potent hit of nicotine as his rival's storehouse burns to the ground at his order. Atlas quirks a slight smile and exhales smoke in a steady stream.

The night was almost flawless. Almost.

He can feel the young triggerman staring at his cheek, the anxiously perfectionistic tuxedo attempting to discern their boss' opinion on the job. Mordecai Heller has worked for the Lackadaisy Speakeasy for almost eight months, keeping on top of their books as an accountant, but this is his first job as triggerman, and he fucked up getting into a physical altercation with a guardsman, almost costing him his life.

Atlas knows that's not what worries the tuxedo, however; he isn't begging to return to his desk job nor in crisis after a brush with death, but concerned he's been inadequate. The boy has a lot of anxiety compared to his partner who, even before he had completed dozens of similar assignments, had the confidence to handle himself.

Viktor Vasko never looked for reassurance or validation, never pandered to his boss, and it's those qualities Atlas wants to encourage in their new triggerman. With life or death hanging on the pull of a trigger, Mordecai couldn't be second guessing himself. He has to be confident, capable, and possess enough autonomy for self-preservation, not hinge his worth on the words of an authority figure that won't always be there to pat him on the back.

The striped feline takes another drag of his cigarette as the experienced bobcat draws Mordecai's attention and hands him back his dropped spectacles. Another slip up, the older businessman turned smuggler muses, sharp eyes still on the roaring flames. Had he lost those, he'd be useless as a sharpshooter and an accountant until they were replaced, if he'd even managed to get out of the flames without time to find the exit with blurry vision. He's got a lot to learn. Viktor will have his hands full for a while.

"Job done," Atlas finally states, drawing the attention of both the man and the boy. He pauses to take a last drag on the cigarette before dropping it to the snow, the sizzle of hot ash lost to the violent crackle of the larger fire. "Take him to see Elsa," he orders, catching Viktor's gaze over the tom's head. He doesn't intend to address Mordecai directly tonight; such attention is reserved for when he does a good job. "Get his arm stitched, then get some sleep. I want you both back in my office tomorrow at one tomorrow, to debrief."

The bobcat simply nods in acknowledgement, then watches as Atlas turns and strides away, back to his own car, taken swiftly by the trees and snow, tracks buried as if he were never there. Only once their boss is gone does Viktor look to the young man now in his charge, the tuxedo barely out of adolescence, a boy with a man's weapon at his hip and an unerring need for acceptance he won't find in Atlas May.

Mordecai drops his gaze to the snow, hand clutching at his injured arm more tightly. He doesn't need to be explicitly told he messed up; he's supposed to be their trigger man, to keep his distance, to protect the brawler and take out any who tried to get the jump on him. He'd been a fool not to take the second shot before approaching, to try to save ammunition instead of safeguarding himself.

The subsequent shot had been aimed at his heart. Had he not brought his satchel, had he not raised it in time, he'd most likely have bled out on the stairs long before they set fire to the building. Falling through the banister, rotted wood splintering into his arm, the dull thud of landing on the joint, are all still visceral memories, as was the lightning decision to shoot at the man who loomed over the broken banister, weapon raised for a second shot.

Mordecai hadn't even aimed, didn't have time, but it was enough to bring the man tumbling down on top of him, whereupon the tuxedo managed to get the upper hand and impale him with the shattered banister, the crescendo of the fight. He'd lost his pince nez in the scuffle but ordered to leave immediately after, had scurried off without them, teeth grit against the aching throb in his left shoulder, the gun still grasped in his less dominant hand.

He'd survived, but barely. Mordecai shudders, both from the cold and the icy reception from Atlas, the man he wanted to impress. Alive, but a disappointment.

Viktor hadn't wanted to bring the boy on this job, but Atlas had insisted, touting that he needed to learn the stakes, that easing him into it would be detrimental. He believed the boy had what it takes to be a successful triggerman, if only he had the right teacher. "You," Atlas had posited, clapping a hand on the bobcat's shoulder as they watched Mordecai through his office window. "That's why he's coming tonight, so you can show him how it's done. You wait; a couple of jobs, and he'll be the best triggerman we could ask for."

The tuxedo looks as far from a triggerman as anyone could be in that moment; fragile, sullen, freezing. Mordecai shivers and clutches his arm, barely suppressing a cringe of pain into a slight flinch. He's a lost and lonely body, out in the woods all on his own, and without guidance he may perish. An almost vacant expression plays in downcast eyes and the bobcat's expression softens slightly, a sudden wave of empathy in his stomach.

He saw that face looking back at him in the mirror many times after returning from the war, and knows the hollow feeling that accompanies leaving everything you love behind to start anew, only to feel wholly inadequate. It's the wonder if the difficult decisions you made really were right, or if you've screwed everything up so badly, perhaps you'd be better off not waking up tomorrow.

Without a word, the bobcat side steps to close the distance between them to mere inches. Mordecai sees his feet shift and glances up through his lashes, shoulder still hunched against the cold. Eyes still locked on the raging fire, Viktor opens arm arm out behind the tuxedo, his hand pressed into a pocket so his coat also fans out, silently offering the tom a chance to step closer if he wants.

An offer of comfort and warmth, in a moment of uncertainty.

Mordecai hesitates, ears half-turned away from the crackle of the fire, eyes slowly shifting between the bobcat's stony face and the free space at his side. It would be a step to the left - a simple, single step towards his new comrade - and he'd have accepted the unexpected offer, an offer he's not sure he fully understands the scope of, but is enticed by the warmth nonetheless.

Eventually, much like Viktor, he sets his eyes on the fire and silently steps closer, allowing his injured arm to brush the other's fluffy jumper before angling the appendage to rest on the bobcat's front. Viktor gently closes his arm around him, encasing Mordecai in half of his overcoat, which the tuxedo grabs the edge of to hold around his body, trapping the heat in with them as he pulls it tight, unperturbed by the feel of Viktor's arm around his back and side.

The flames continue to lick the darkness, burning the inky black in orange and yellow as they watch, mesmerised by flames in a comfortable silence. A bobcat, offering simple solace to a tuxedo, in need of reassurance... and perhaps a warmer coat.

#mordecai heller #lackadaisy #fanfiction #lackadaisy cats #lackadaisy mordecai #fanfic #niche narratives #tracy j butler #obscure oneshots #oneshot fanfiction #oneshot #inspired by art #vikdecai #cute husbands being husbands before they were husbands

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guardian-of-fun-times · 11 months

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❄️Rise of the Guardians: Closer to You Pt.2 [Jack Frost X Reader]❄️

The next morning you awake to Jack's heavy arm draped over you. Upon opening your eyes, you glance at his face. His long lashes spanned across his cheeks, and you could say that the expression on his face was one of relaxation. You brush his hair from his forehead, your lips forming into a small smile. The fact that he stayed with you made your heart swell. Your feelings were deepening the more time the both of you spent together.

It was still baffling that you managed to find yourself in a relationship with him. While it’s never been a fantasy of yours, how many girls can say being swept off their feet?

You weren’t sure if he was actually sleeping, but if he wasn’t, he didn’t seem to mind you touching his hair or any part of him really. Your fingers dance across his pale skin, barely touching him. A thought passes through your head, and you shake your head at yourself. You weren’t sure why it crossed your mind, and at this hour, but you realized that Jack’s been the one doing all the exploring, getting to know the small and…not so small touches that made your body turn into goo.

You turn your head to eye your clock, seeing that it was still early in the morning. With that thought in mind, you turn back to his resting form, pressing your hand along his chest, feeling his heart beating steadily. “Jack?” You whisper, merely wanting to see how alert he was. He shifts a little, and his arm tightens around you. “Hmm?” He hums, though he kept his eyes closed.

You gently push on his shoulder, wanting him to lay on his back. Of course he doesn’t budge, and you add a bit more pressure for him to hopefully realize you wanted him to change his position. As he rolls over, he keeps his arm under you, and you decide to just go for it before you let your nerves get the best of you. You slowly roll over on top of him, the lower part of your body straddling his hips. You steady your hands against his chest, and his brows raise, but he keeps his eyes closed. You curiously run your fingers along his bare chest, feeling the cold of his skin beneath your fingertips. “What are you doing?” He inquires softly but doesn’t stop you.

“Just…exploring….” You murmur, sliding your hands up towards his neck, leaning your body down so that you could whisper in his ear. “If you’re okay with that…” You smile against his neck as he swallows. From there, you press small kisses on his skin, starting from the shell of his ear down to his shoulder. His left hand drifts to your thigh, softly squeezing. You continue your decent, growing eager the closer you got to his abdomen. “If this is about last night…” He trails off, feeling your tongue dangerously close to the waistband of his unzipped pants.

You lean back up, and his eyes are open, searching your face. You shake your head slowly, leaning forward to kiss him. His hands go to your waist, and he groans softly, your sweet lips like a drug to him. You gently bite down on his bottom lip, licking it afterward before speaking “No. I get it. I just want to…make you feel good. Can I?” You whisper, eyes flickering to meet his intense stare. You take his silence as a yes before wiggling a bit down his body. You slowly run your hands down his arms, feeling his muscles flex underneath your touch. He widens his legs out, and you settle in between them, excitement and anticipation flowing through you. His hand is suddenly placed over yours, guiding your hand to the outline of his already hard cock against the fabric of his pants.

Your hand barely covered it. You tentatively squeeze, and he’s letting out a breath. You slowly reach, sliding your fingers behind the waistband, pulling them down. He maneuvers his legs for you, and you set them to the side. He was a little more than average, that much you knew. You swallow before releasing a breath.

You wanted to make him feel the way he made you feel.

With that in mind, you take your hand, wrapping your fingers around the shaft. Your fingers didn’t meet your thumb in a full hold. You settle at the edge of the bed, leaning down. You take your other hand, tentatively brushing your fingers against his balls, watching his body for any sign of pleasure or discomfort. His head settles deeper into the pillow, a low groan leaving his mouth. You move your hand up and down slowly, the very tip of your lips touching the head. You experiment with the way you move your hand, twisting your wrist just slightly, earning you another groan in response. Using that as your guide, you slowly take your time jerking him off, tightening your hold the harder he became.

Your attention was mostly focused on his face and upper body. His eyes were closed, and his body seemed very relaxed, though you noticed he kept his hands by his sides, his fingers every so often clenching against the sheets. His chest rose and fell with even breaths, his head angled towards the ceiling. The moment you flick your tongue against the head of his engorged cock, his legs stiffen, and his deep moan vibrates through you. With your hands still retaining their tasks, you suck in a breath through your nose as you take him deeper into your mouth. You flatten your tongue, tasting him for the first time. “Mmmm.” He breathes, sucking in a deep breath.

Never had something felt so damn good.

You bob your head up and down in time with your hands, your eyes watering slightly the deeper he went down your throat. You notice the change in his body when you almost release his cock, your lips touching along the sensitive head. You change tactics a bit, deciding to take his cock as far as you could handle before coming back up to the tip before repeating.

You could taste the precum on your tongue, and you’re lapping up his sweet and slightly salty cum every time you dipped your head. You kept the pace slow, and you’re assuming he’s okay with it as he doesn’t shift your head or move his hips. He lets you do what you want, enjoying every second of it. He fingers tighten in your sheets, his moans fading in and out, getting longer with every minute. As you come up for air, you decide to lick along his shaft from bottom to top, moaning softly in the process. “Fuck….” He whispers, his hips raising ever so slightly.

You do it again, wrapping your lips around the head, sucking softly before repeating the process. You decide to stop with your hands, instead bracing your hands on his thighs, running your fingers along his skin. He’s softly panting now, his heavy breaths giving you the confidence that you could make him lose his mind too. You run your hands up towards the top of his thighs, your hands finally resting on the sides of his hips as you moved your head a bit faster. One of his hands are now gripping your thigh, almost painfully, sliding towards your panties. You swat his hand away, and he lifts his head, his adorable look of confusion staring back at you. His eyes then follow your hand as you do something you’ve never done before. You slip your hand into your panties, surprised that you were as wet as you were. He slowly sits up then, leaning on his elbows.

His eyes stay fixated on your hand, able to see everything you were doing. When you slip a finger inside your wet pussy, his eyes almost cross. On one hand, he wanted to be the one physically bringing you pleasure, though on another, the sight was almost too much. Your moaning around his cock makes him tense, and you can tell by the way his eyes suddenly meet yours, he’s about to cum. His eyes flutter shut, and his whispers of fuck are heard as his warm cum flows down your throat with every swallow.

You give the head one final lick as you release his cock from your mouth. His eyes seem darker in the small filtering of light from the window as his eyes focus back on your hand. You become slightly nervous for some reason. It was different when you were pleasuring him and doing this, though now his attention was fixated on you. He leans forward, still breathing heavily, cupping your chin so that he could bring you in for a heated kiss. You moan into his mouth, and he’s gentler this time in taking off your underwear, the material sliding off your foot. You let out a surprised breath as your back was against the bed, your head near the edge.

“I want to see.” He almost purrs, and makes no move to touch you, merely watching you pleasure yourself. It somewhat makes you more comfortable, knowing he enjoyed just the simple act of this. Your fingers make this wet, almost sloshing sound as you fuck your fingers. With your other hand, you rub your clit, unable to help yourself as your legs spread wider. You go to close your eyes, but his voice is beckoning you to open them. “I want to see your eyes…” He whispers, now above you, leaning on his arm. Your heart beats faster the closer you became, little whimpers leaving your throat as you kept his cold gaze.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, fully meaning it. You looked so good here, your eyes wide, lips parted, chest heaving. “You’re so good like this." He murmurs, his words of praise igniting a fire under you, and he could see the effect it had. Your vision almost blurs into nothing as you cum, his lips swallowing your moans of his name.

It leaves you breathless.

He takes your hand, letting up allowing you to breathe. He licks your fingers slowly, before releasing them, threading his finger through yours. “Now that’s what I call a wakeup call." He whispers with a grin. You smile sheepishly, and he kisses the back of your hand. He pulls you into a sitting position, pulling you in for a much softer, sweeter kiss.

He holds you close, nuzzling his nose into the top of your head.

#rise of the guardians #rotg #jack frost #rotg matters #guardian #rotg fandom #rotg jack frost #guardian of fun #oneshot fanfiction #smut fanfiction

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hymn-of-muse · 6 months

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Heartfelt Advice

A platonic Cassandra Cain + Barbara Gordon oneshot. A family talk.

A knock sounded from the doorway and Barbara set down the tea she made on the table, wheeling herself over to the door and opening it, giving the person in the doorway a soft smile as she moved back to let the other in.

Cass had her head hung low when the door opened, feeling ashamed and guilty for events earlier that night, almost like she'd prepared herself for a lecture.

"Come on in Cass. Do you want some tea?" Babs asked, soon closing the door behind the girl. "I just got a fresh box of chamomile yesterday." She offered.

"Um..sure" Cass agreed, taking a seat on Barbara's couch, hands tucked into the front pocket of her hoodie as she observed the red head move about her apartment. "Barbara...look, I know I shouldn't have-"

"Relax, Cass" Babs smiled over her shoulder with a soft time of voice to match. "I didn't ask you to come over after the op just to scold you, I can see you've already done that to yourself enough."

"Then...why did you ask me to come over?" She gave a confused look as her eyes scanned over the other, Barbara carefully pouring water from a kettle into a cup on the counter.

"Because i wanted to talk with you about your behavior. I know how that sounds but it's alright, trust me." She carefully brought the tea over to the coffee table to which Cass took from her hands.

"I...I didn't mean to blow up like that, I know it's not a great excuse, I normally have myself under control and level headed but this time I just...I ruined the operation because of my outburst.." Cass gave a sigh of self-disappointment with her admission, staring into the cup of tea sadly

"Do you know why you had that outburst?" Babs asked softly as she hoisted herself into the couch next to Cass.

"No...well, yes. It's just" she paused to find her words. "Were supposed to work as a team and follow our plan, but Tim as so adamant about changing things and his reasoning made no sense to me." Cassandra explained with growing frustration.

"I really try to understand, I do. And it's not just Tim...I find it hard to understand a lot of the decisions and suggestions that come from everyone but they seem so rooted in emotional responses and...I struggle to..understand that. The whole emotional thing.." Cass' eyes stay on her reflection on the surface of the tea.

"You struggle to connect with people on an emotional level, but you also struggle to understand emotions and cues from others in social situations. I'm guessing this frustration built up and that's why you snapped at Tim?" Barbara pointed out, leaning back on the couch with her eyes on Cass.

"...I'm not used to having to read by emotions, people's reactions to things are so different and it makes it hard to predict things. This whole.. emotional response to things in so many varieties makes people harder to read and I don't like it. Actions, physical details, I can read posture and gestures, all that is predictable..." She spoke softly, indirectly confirming Barbara's suspicions.

Babs took a moment as Cass took a sip from her tea before speaking up. "Have you considered bonding might make it easier? If you get to know your team members better, they might become easier to understand emotional wise." She offered.

There was a moment of silence before Cass broke it again, glancing up at Barbara with searching eyes. "What would I even do? I've said the wrong thing and upset people before, it seems about all I can do, I'm not even sure how Steph tolerates me some days.."

"You're putting too much thought into it Cass. You're too focused on details, and you're afraid of overstepping or losing people that you've shut yourself down and built new walls to keep yourself in. You need to let yourself take a step out of your shell and try talking. And I mean actually talking. Communicate your feelings and they'll communicate theirs too." Barbara placed a gentle hand on Cass' shoulder with a sweet smile.

"The further you box yourself up the more likely you are to snap at others again. Steph tolerates you because she cares, she's probably just waiting for you to open up so she can understand you better too."

Cassandra's eyes drifted over Barbara's face before falling back onto the tea in her hands. "That...would make some sense.." she admitted as she gave it some thought. "If I talked about how..frustrated, not understanding some things made me feel, they would explain what I'm not understanding?"

"Exactly. You're not the burden you think you are, Cass, we all have trouble understanding something, and for you that's your emotional intelligence. There's no shame in that, you just need to learn to open up and communicate rather than bottling up and lashing out when it gets too much."

Cass set down the cup on the coffee table and turned to Barbara. "Would...it be alright if I practiced on you?" She asked tentatively.

"Of course. Thats a great place to start." Babs nodded, motioning for her to go ahead and talk.

"I...I don't understand why you're so...gentle. as Batgirl and as oracle, both, you're fierce and determined, you always remained level headed, you seemed clear and focused and yet...whenever we talk you're always so...different. your voice is softer, your eyes are softer, you smile...youre just...gentle. I don't understand why you seem to have such a drastic change about you. I mean I know when you put on the mask youre braver, it's like that for all of us, but you're always brave mask or not, yet when you're just Barbara...you're...you're sweeter."

Babs held a warm smile as she listened to Cass list her observations and explain her confusion. "And you want to understand why I'm like that?"

"Yes. Why are you so..sweet?"

"Cass, what you're noticing is fondness and care. I'm softer around you and others off duty because I know it's okay to be, and that's just how I am, especially around people I generally care about, like you. I'm not going around being a stone wall because that's not who I am" she chuckled

"And I know you need it." She added, tilting her head. "How was that?"

Cass let out a breath. "..that was...nice, actually. And...much easier than I thought." She admitted, shuffling a little closer to the woman.

Babs opened her arms and wrapped them around Cass, pulling her into a warm hug. "Good job, Cass. Thank you for talking with me, I'm proud of you."

Cass felt herself smile as she leaned into Barbara's arms and returned the soft embrace. "...thanks babs."

this is in no way a ship fic please never tag it as such

reblogs are appreciated!

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lawful-evil-novelist · 9 months

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Fandom: War Of The Spider Queen, Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Nalfein Do'Urden & Original Male Character(s), Gromph Baenre & Nalfein Do'Urden Characters: Nalfein Do'Urden, Original Drow Character(s) (Dungeons & Dragons), Vizaeth Xunhrae Thaezyr (OC), Maya Do'Urden, Dinin Do'Urden, Artemis Entreri, Gromph Baenre Additional Tags: Nalfein Lives AU, Maya and Dinin Live AU, pre War of the Spider Queen, No Spoilers, Necromancy, Teaching, Mage and Apprentice Relationship (Platonic), Gromph is a Good Teacher, Being Nice to Vizaeth for Fun and Profit, Implied eavesdropping

Nalfein gives Vizaeth an opportunity to examine a real necromantic artifact, his siblings tag along.

#legend of drizzt fanfic #forgotten realms fanfic #oneshot #fanfiction #oneshot fanfiction

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tentajack · 11 months

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Wrote a little thing for mermay, and while there's much more to the idea than presented in this oneshot, I hope everyone enjoys this little preview of the constant aquatic!

Tumblr version will be under the cut:

Hurried steps pounded the dirt by the cliffsides.

Wilson tried his best to catch his breath, but could see it was all for naught- he was too late.

He and a few other survivors were attempting to unravel the small timeloop the constant had tucked away in one of it’s many layers, quite aptly named ‘the gorge’, but their current attempt to satiate the cruel beast in the sky had already begun with rocky progress. They were hoping if they could satiate it in a way superior to their previous successful attempts, perhaps this loop could end and free the poor residents into the grater constant, but…

The looming Gnaw’s appetite had reached its limit before they could finish enough dishes, favor run out and time cut short. The ground and air rumbled with spite and ancient magic, and Wilson’s harried breathing started to turn into coughing fits, his lungs rendering themselves apart to transform into gills.

Despite the harsh circumstances, Wilson had a little surprise up his sleeve for such an occasion: a little life amulet and the broken shard of a tentacle spike he had brought with him in secret when traversing to the gorge. Had failure halted his process before? Many times, too many times. Wilson was quite keen on figuring out what would happen of a survivor should find themselves after the Gnaw’s point in time where it punished failure with mermification, though the process seemed to kick him out of his body once there was no trace of his humanity left, back into the blank nothingness when reforming a body in a new layer of the constant or starting the time loop over again. He had quite hoped that Wanda could help, but in her absence… well, Wilson had plenty of experience with practical suicides and timely revivals, he was willing and able to make do.

He looked over at the sea while he rushed to put the amulet on, unchanging in this particular area despite the moon rising the sea in every other area of the constant. The rocky cliffs remained high and impassable to attempt to sail. Never the less, it made for a serene sight to calm his mind for what he needed to do next.

He took up the tentacle spike’s remaining shard and raised it up for a quick pierce to the heart. He’s normally one to opt for draining a major artery, but time was of the essence while he felt his legs mutating and his skin turning to scales in patches.

The pierce was agonizing but the results were swift.

Wilson stumbled backwards while twisting the spike until he could feel his heart stop. His lung had gotten nicked in the violent act, spewing blood into his choking fits, but he was in so much pain he paid it no mind.

His heart stopped beating.

His last step back met air.

Wilson didn’t have enough oxygen left in his brain to fully realize he was falling, stony sea rocks out of perception in his blacked out vision.

He didn’t have anything else left in his brain once his skull hit the sharp shore, killing him a few seconds sooner than the lack of a functioning heart would have.

His partially mutated body was swept away by the waves, and under the surface where his amulet began to glow and activate.

Oo0o0oO

Wilson wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he become conscious after his revival, but it wasn’t a chestful of water when he took a breath. He opened his eyes in haste and was rewarded with the sting of salt water, hands grasping at his burning torso, unable to right himself to stand or push himself up.

His panic and flailing motions continued for a long moment. After all, why would he expect to wake up submerged? As the pain in his eyes grew to a more bearable level, the gentleman scientist was able to perceive his surroundings, as well as himself.

The light of the cloudy sky just barely illuminated the peaks of the waves from below, just enough for Wilson to know he was indeed under the waters surface. As baffling as it was to be underwater without blacking out, he could at least tell what direction ‘up’ should have been.

He made no hesitation to swim towards the surface, doing his best to ignore the small collection of air bubbles as he breathed out and the deformed scales jutting out of his gloves.

He breached the surface and tried his best to breathe in, but found himself exhaling water every time he tried to empty his lungs out. Despite having a strong breast stroke to fall back on, his thighs felt numb and difficult to move, leaving him unable to kick past moving his knees. He pushed himself with a stronger stroke upwards, and breathed in as hard as he could, only to spasm with pain once he receded under the waves.

He hacked and gagged as a burst of air bubbles came out of his mouth and his sides, the pain lessening as he involuntarily took in more batter between fits.

Wilson became weary with confusion and strain alike and decided it might be worth it to just let himself drown at this rate.

He let himself sink to the bottom, the little granules of sand floating up with the soft impact.

Letting himself go slack on the seabed, he couldn’t help but think of how peaceful this moment in time was despite drowning to death, the gloomy light of the gorge glistened above and the water around him was so much quieter in the depths away from the violent waves and whooshing winds. It was a shame he fell into the sea and wasted his chance to explore the gorge beyond the looping point, but he’s just have to try again the next time he could sneak some ‘extra items’ by in the portal. He closed his eyes and sighed, a few leftover bubbles rolling out of his throat, relishing the feeling of a rare, peaceful death.

…

He felt the current pick up, water gently flowing through his hair in a rather pleasant way.

Wilson didn’t feel any pain in his chest anymore and wondered why he wasn’t upright at the florid postern back at their current base yet.

He opened his eyes to the same underwater view, and a gentle breathing in of the sea water seemed to be like breathing thick air, his eyes didn’t even sting anymore. He took another deep breath to confirm it; he was breathing water, but something on the side of his ribs was sticking to his shirt. His mouth formed a line once it caught up to his brain that was was going to be in the here and now for some time.

He pushed his arms out in front of himself to properly investigate what happened to him; it was clear he wasn’t able to die quickly enough to prevent his lungs from turning to gills, and he could feel the wrongness throughout the rest of his body too. His arms retained a more human shape than the blobby merm appendage it was doomed to turn into, but his nails turned into sharp white claws at the end of his more angular fingers, and something felt like his skin might have been partially degloved beneath his actual finger-less gloves, though the rest of the gloves had been torn up with some prominent green scales lifting the fabric up and away in too many spots. Removing the gloves proved to be a small hassle, but once he got them off the pressure on his forearms and palms receded. He mostly has human skin where patched of various sized scales didn’t grow in, but between his fingers were thin growths of skin akin to webbing. He waved his right hand around, feeling the increased resistance of the water when his hand was outstretched. He simply observed and muttered “Huh.”

The mutter was something he felt vocalize in his throat, but he could also feel the subtle vibrations on the sides of his neck. He reached a hand up to touch, and the tips of his claws he could feel small ridges, just like a sharks gills. He kept his hand nearby while he yelled out “Hello, is anyone there?” into the distant kelp masses. Naturally there was no response, but Wilson took the time to look around the environment, finding himself in a little patch of fine sand between the high rocks reaching up and past the surface, a thick ‘field’ of an unknown kind of short kelp, and a clear stretch of water that seemed to go… somewhere.

Wilson had momentarily become distracted with all the new things to discover around him that he had neglected to finish inspecting the changes within him. As soon as he tried to swim over to the kelp, he had the strange sensation in his thighs again, not quite numbness but he couldn’t explain why he couldn’t feel them moving they way he was trying to. Looking down, he was that his trousers were in a precarious state, not just torn up but sucked into the mass patch of scales on his lap, spreading over each thigh and twisted into a mass of flesh that bridged the gap between his thighs. He put his hands over the mass and tried his best to spread his legs with a strenuous grunt, but to no avail- his thighs had become stuck together in the middle, possibly a healing error from the amulet mistaking the scales for a wound and trying to fix a body that had expired between states of being. He pulled his muscles so hard that the new skin formed over it began to tear and bleed slightly, but without a means of healing, Wilson wasn’t willing to try to cut his legs back apart just yet. He sighed and looked down at the rest of his legs, his calves were free and still human shaped though the scales had shredded the lower portion of his trousers completely, and his shoes had split at the tips to accommodate his longer toes, also with skin webbing added.

The changes to his body were novel and fascinating, but the rumble of hunger in his stomach was a familiar feeling, both a reminder and confirmation that he would still need to feed himself despite his physical state and new location.

He swam over to the seaweed growths he saw earlier, though to say ‘swim’ would undermine just how clumsy his movements were- he had not had a chance to practice such movements since he was a younger man, leaving him paddling and flailing and doing little incomplete kicks like a miserable creature going every which way in all directions until he remembered how to do a breast stroke. By the time he actually got to the seaweed patches, he had managed to regain some competency in his form, despite the atrocious changes to his body.

He started to grab at some of the kelp, noting small and short brown leaves next to bundles of grape-like growths that would bob up with a distinct translucent yellow tint. He picked at some of the leafy fronds, and taking a nibble out of one proved disappointing, empty of any value much like eating the leaves of a deciduous tree. He grabbed one of the ‘fruits’ off the bunch and popped into his mouth like a berry. The foul burst that came out of it was horrendous, like a concentrated sample of the most seal and seagull infested coastal pungency he had ever had the misfortune to experience, and the salty water around him was a stark relief as he clawed any remaining substance from his mouth.

As his frenzy died down, he fingertips and clawed nails brushed over his teeth more slowly- he could feel his teeth had become sharper, but at this point the shock of his mutations has dulled down. He still needed to find something to eat, and swam towards the more open water to explore.

The sand stretched far and long into the distance.

There was nothing but sand for a good while.

At this point, Wilson had to take an occasional break to look around for any distinguishing features, clutching his grumbling stomach to soothe the growing ache. Something seemed different not to far off from where he wound up, the long stretch of sand seemed just a little bit shorter, stopping abruptly where the water became brighter and the current became stronger.

Once he swan to the void in the ocean floor, he grasped the edge to keep himself steady and peered over.

The entire sea poured over into infinity, the water around him spilling over into a torrent and down onto a floating disk that looked an awful lot like the land masses and circular sea Wilson could easily recognize from any of the maps he made over the last however-many-cycles, in turn high above other disks of land and sea that poured into one another like overflowing goblets, going repeatedly into a black infinity. The sun over and under each disk looked like blurry stars in their own right, their lights beautiful and small through the refraction of the water spilling over from the high level of the gorge. Maxwell once mentioned the darkness that laid ‘out of bounds’ wherever the layer he would generate, the odd tranquility of quietly looking off to something beyond what even their eyes could not truly peer, and Wilson understood how breathtaking the whole system was and how interconnected each ‘world’ of the constant really was in ways he couldn’t perceive.

As much as he would have loved to stay where he was to observe, he knew his hunger was a clock ticking down, and he’d rather have a much better reward for the risk of death. There didn’t seem to be much in the way of edible or usable materials here, so that left the massive volume of water cascading over the edge and wherever that might lead; a much more exciting sort of death than starvation by any measure. Looking straight down, Wilson could see the water falling a great distance before forming a base of mist and cloud, and began to tip himself just a little further with each moment looking at it, lest he scare himself out going down preparing for a big leap over.

The pull of the current did the rest of the work once he had reached out far enough.

The sudden acceleration of being pulled down had caught Wilson off guard, but he had a long way to the bottom. He was swam under the pressure of the current towards the edge of the water, just enough to stick his head out but not far enough to risk a premature ejection, and was rewarded with the clarity of the beautiful sight he had sampled before. He could see each segment fly past him, most unfamiliar, but a few he had an odd recollection of, like a circle of rocks around a crab king right by where the sea poured over, just like the one he saw five ‘start-over’s ago, same placement and everything! He was swept down past a few more, but the one he could see that got his attention was another familiar world where he could see a boat.

He could see himself on the boat, with the same prime-mate killing him in the exact way he remembered dying that time.

Wilson extended a clawed hand to his chin in thought- the time issues the gorge experienced surely meant that time’s rules had different changes depending on where one was in the constant, and being between all the worlds and layers and sets and boards meant that for the briefest of moments, he too was between time itself, however long this ride would last.

Another world he was still high above was folding in onto itself, crumpled into a ragged ball like a failed blueprint before massive shadow hands flexed their fingers over the mass, forming trees and rocks and other things as the ball stretched out again into something new. Wilson could just barely see two little dots coming out of a flash in the center before that world passed him by entirely, only a deep sort of rock with it’s own little leaks visible from underne-

Wilson hit the end of the waterfall, but realized mid-air that the end wasn’t the splashing water against the surface but a storm absorbing all the water to rain down on everything below it.

Wilson flipped past the freezing cloud and through the sky, screaming all the water in his gills out and drowning in air for a brief moment until he landed hard into the sea on his belly with an impressive splash.

The pain of the landing caused Wilson to be dazed for a long while, only just being able to breathe to regain his composure. He left himself drift in the new current. He had plenty to mull over in his own brain, there would be no urgent need to see where he wound up, if not for the continuous hunger pains. He brought himself back upright (What he thought was upright? All he had to tell was the light on the surface and the slightest sense of buoyancy) to look around, and he found himself in a much more lush environment.

Far from a flat sand field, the would around him had too many things to note at once, lots of little rocks next to bigger ones, familiar stretches of bull kelp reaching high from their roots to the surface, and a variety of shells all across the seabed. Wilson went right for the kelp, knowing it to be edible even when raw, grabbing fistfuls and shoving into his mouth with haste. While the texture wasn’t particularly appetizing, the salty taste seemed mellow after getting used to breathing and swallowing salt water. Luckily for the scientist, there was plenty to harvest when one wasn’t restricted to the very top, though it was hard to say how much he had picked when most of it went right between his pearly whites to try to fill his stomach for the next while. He put the remaining amount after his feeding frenzy into what was left of his pockets for later, though he certainly wasn’t excited to eat it again if he had to.

Now that his immediate need for food had been taken care of, he could properly explore!

He began to grab at some of the shells, recognizing the familiar shellbells from his time on the surface, and raising some of them up to see if the tiny creatures inside behaved differently when underwater. The tiny green… snails? Crabs? Salamanders? seemed to be just as reclusive as on the surface, tucking themselves further into their shells. Wilson supposed he’d have to look into them later when he could get a hammer.

The thought of a hammer had Wilson reaching into his pockets for the materials. His hands met the distinct squish of kelp fronds and nothing else.

Wilson began to sober up from his need to explore. He had no materials, not even an axe or a spear to defend himself when the need would arise, and it would arise here in the constant, no matter his special circumstances.

He began to look around for things to gather, easily finding rocks and flint on the sandy bottom and pocketing them as well. He swam up closer to the surface and was able to grab a little bit of grass, but he felt his immediate findings would be inadequate, and so swam away from his landing zone.

Skimming the surface let him find some floating bundles of sticks and more grass, but with how much he had to swim between each find, he couldn’t help but be worried. He was at least able to make a regular spear, but… Making a few test thrusts with it let him know his mobility would be an issue when attacking, putting enough power behind the spear also forced his entire body to stiffen, and hitting a rock below had him pushing away without ground to properly stand on. Wilson sighed, making do and putting the spear on one of the loops on his pants, keeping it ready to grab the moment he felt he needed it.

He stroked a webbed hand though his hair whilst looking around for anything of use, swimming forward while his mind drifted. The fact his hair seemed to retain some of its shape rather than floating everywhere was nice, though it floated off his scalp just enough to make him feel the need to smooth it back down before it got in his face again. His fingers brushed by his ear, pointed and lengthened in various places like a merms head fins, though thankfully only on the edge of the helix, helping to keep the side of his magnificent hair in place.

The thought was interrupted when he got close to a pillar of white rock, and to the familiar shadows that made Wilson’s heart speed up with stress.

He hated cookie cutters and he was certain they hated him too. They seemed to always swim too close when it was most inconvenient, and today would be no exception as one plunged down from the surface and towards Wilson, jaws open for all the sticks Wilson had gone though the trouble of collecting. Wilson took his spear back out, jabbing it the things creepy creepy face, backing up as much as he could swim to make sure it didn’t try to eat his spear if it got too close. Sure, they were aggravating to fight on a boat, but at least they were face down and distracted eating rather than opening their empty maw and eyes right at him. After a few more unnerving blows and a lucky bite from the grey menace, the cutter began to twitch and turn belly up, Wilson did not hesitate to grab the purple meat before it could float to the surface, and swam away as fast as he could before the others drifted close enough to take an interest.

While swimming away, he lamented he could not collects their discarded shells to make a helmet, but he knew better than to take a risk with such foul little bastards close by. He rubbed the bite wound on his left arm and got as far away from the salt pillars as his stubby little flippers could bring him.

Wilson drifted off into darker water, concerned that it was already dusk, the seafloor fading from gritty white sands to murky grit and white roots. All sorts of silhouettes could be seen from below, faded with less sunlight to highlight them but still recognizable as tree tops and figs and hanging spiderwebs of the waterlogged environment. Wilson sighed with relief, the darkening skies above the sea merely the shade of the great massive knobbly tree, and all the boons that could be found under it. He swam over the larger looping roots of the tree and up to the surface, collecting a little haul of grasses and twigs and driftwood. He made an axe, a backpack, plus a torch by habit for later, and quickly got to work on cutting the smaller trees from the root up for some regular wood, eager to get back to being fully equipped.

A few sweetfish swam by during the cutting, Wilson made a mental note to invent some sort of sea-trap to harvest them later.

He was able to get plenty of wood, and quite a bit of entertainment watching the sea striding spiders comes down with nobody to find on the surface. Once Wilson felt confident he had the upper hand, he began to stab at them from below, completely safe as long as he remained under the surface. He felt satisfied for how much silk he was able to get from a little pest control, proud as he could be despite the circumstances, and almost wished Maxwell could be here to see how well he was doing with a new kind of environment to discover. He laughed to himself with a memory of the first time he brought Maxwell to a waterlogged forest like this. Maxwell had gotten into a bit of a sour mood once he realized the only thing easy to access were the figs, and hadn’t gotten into better spirits until Wilson showed him how to harvest the tree nuts by recklessly ramming the boat at top speed into the tree. Of course, Maxwell was furious whilst patching the many holes the boat had sprung open, but once they retrieved the nut he seemed to be quite amused with such a ridiculous harvesting method, even laughing about it until the fireflies came out and the lantern needed more fuel. Remembering that spontaneous laugh made Wilson feel warm all over, lights still all around him.

He looked up and realized the fireflies were already out again, and the darkness was starting to encroach.

His warm feelings halted immediately, he held his breath and swam up to breach, and lo and behold, the sun was already setting above the surface, and setting quickly.

Wilson supposed it was his own fault for not being more diligent about checking the conditions above sooner, but he did not panic. He pulled out his torch the same way he had thousands of times before, and stroked a stick over the main knob to ignite.

He remained in darkness.

Wilson slapped his clawed hand to his scalp, scales on the sides of his palms scraping down his stupid face. He forgot for the briefest of moments that he was underwater, and fire of any sort was out of the question.

Panic began to seep in as a familiar, distant hissing started to approach.

He swam up to the fireflies on the waters surface, kicking so hard that his thighs began to tear apart again, but there was no time to care about that, he needed light more than anything else!

The fireflies scattered within seconds of getting splashed, leaving Wilson in their fading memory of a glow.

Wilson took the torch and tried to hold it up over the surface, only to be defeated by the waves spilling over the highest point he could attempt to keep it up.

He was dragged down by claws before he could get another attempt.

While the scent of roses didn’t carry well in seawater, her touch was something Wilson could always remember.

It was not frequently that Wilson had the chance to hear Charlie speak, and less so that it did not fill him with dread.

“You thought you were so clever, didn’t you?”

Her voice echoed around him, full of venom and amusement alike. The claws around him and inside of him dug in. He was stunned- no words could come out of his mouth, not that they would be anything more than a stuttering plea made in pure terror.

A charming little laugh wasn’t quite fitting with the mood, but that didn’t stop Charlie, nothing could stop her in her own domain. Wilson could just barely see her face peering out from shadow.

“But this little detour of yours has given me some lovely… inspirations. We have some new plans for you. I wouldn’t trust anyone with my new little project more than you… Do you trust me?”

Wilson couldn’t muster an answer to that predatory smile. To Wilson, this was a loaded question; he didn’t have a choice. To Charlie, this was surely like a cat playing with the poor little bird it already began to mangle on the ground.

Wilson hesitantly nodded his head, figuring it was better to not resist whatever great and terrible thing Charlie was about to throw him into.

“Good.”

Charlies visage snapped into a terrorbeaks maw and around Wilson’s head, making quick work of the half-mutated form.

Charlies face returned to normal with a smile and she let what was left of his body sink down into the depths. She was excited to see what he would do at her new postern, and all the little things she had created.

The new plan had begun in earnest.

#tentatext #tentafic #dst #dst fanfiction #mermay #oneshot fanfiction #don't starve together

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asklenkase · 6 months

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Worm [lenkase oneshot]

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Fukase groggily opened one eye "What?"

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

"Len, it's four AM" Fukase complained looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand

"But would you?" Len insisted.

"Well if you were a worm and you'd woken me up at four am I'd probably feed you to olive's pet bird" fukase paused for a second "or just oliver himself. He's weird like that"

Len pouted and threw a pillow at him

"Fuka, I'm serious"

Fukase slowly got up, rubbing his eyes and faced his boyfriend who was indeed serious. In fact he looked like he was about to cry.

Fukase's mood shifted immediately from annoyed to concerned "Lenny, did you have another nightmare?"

Len nodded. "I dreamt I was just a small ugly worm in the dirt and you were there but I couldn't get you to notice me because I was too small and I felt like you would just leave and I would never see you " he paused to calm down his hectic breathing for a second.

"But even if you had noticed me I would just be an ugly worm and you wouldn't care about me" continued.

He sniffled "and also Oliver was there eating dirt for some reason"

Fukase did his best not to laugh at the last part "yeah he does that sometimes."

He then then moved to put his arm around his boyfriend so that Len could rest his head on his chest.

"Listen. If you were a worm I would definitely notice and recognise you because even as a worm you would still be you and there's no universe where I wouldn't notice you" Len seemed comforted by that

"And then I would get a huge terrarium with the most high quality dirt I could find and keep you in my room in it so we could still spent time together. Also I would never let Oliver or his pet bird anywhere near you. Never."

"I would sit by the terrarium for hours each day talking to you and I'd even get a small carrier box so I can bring you places with me so we could still go on dates" he finished

"That's nice" Len mumbled sleepily

"Also I'm sure you'd be the cutest worm in the entire world" Fukase assured

"Can we please go back to sleep now?" he asked quietly but his boyfriend was alread asleep on his chest

"I love you" he mumbled

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auramanipulation7-5 · 4 days

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Bleach (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ishida Uryuu/Kurosaki Ichigo Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo, Ishida Uryuu Additional Tags: Angst, Kurosaki Ichigo Has a Bad Time, POV Kurosaki Ichigo, Traumatized Kurosaki Ichigo, Kurosaki Ichigo Needs a Hug, No Beta we Die like Kaien Shiba, Asexual Character, Asexual Kurosaki Ichigo, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, but only at chapter 214, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort Summary:

Ichigo has made up his mind to confront Shinji about his Hollow--but he accidentally finds himself on Uryū's doorstep in the pouring rain instead.

#bleach #ichiishi #ichiuri #bleach anime #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanfic writer #bleach fanfiction #ichigo kurosaki #kurosaki ichigo #uryu ishida #ishida uryu #oneshot #oneshot fanfiction #oneshot fic #fic #archive of our own

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fandomfantasyy · 6 days

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aindcfhfbdhc i saw you do fnf fics!! i was wondering if you could do a garcello x a tired gender neutral reader?

𝜗୧ ,, garcello x gn!reader !!

꒰꒰ type ;; oneshot ,, ꒰꒰ pov ;; second person ,, ꒰꒰ cw ;; cigarettes, health issues ,, ꒰꒰ characters ;; garcello, gn!reader ,, ꒰꒰ fandom ;; fnf ,, ꒰꒰ note ;; life laugh love garcello (hes literally the top reason i put fnf on the list) also you didnt specify pov so i hope second is okay, if not re-request and ill redo it !! ,,

⌒ 𓈒 fanfic under the cut !! ꒱

ㅤYou were extremely drowsy, laying on the couch with Garcello. Your head was laid one one of his thighs as he stroked your hair, feeling yourself lazily blink as you stared at the TV in front of you. You didn't even exactly know what was on. Some comedy, maybe. You were too exhausted to remember or even tell.

ㅤYou felt the thigh under your head shift and you whined, looking up at him. He was looking right back down at you with his normal expression, however with just a tinge of guilt and concern.

ㅤ"…Thought you were asleep." He mumbled. You saw the cigarette pack in his hand, you knew he did this every night. He let you fall asleep, went to the alley, and smoked. Then he tended to get off on an errand or got completely distracted, and wasn't normally back by the time you woke up in the morning. You still pretended to be asleep, though. The small yet love-filled mumbles he whispered to you as he waited for you to wake up warmed your heart.

ㅤYou reached up, grabbed the pack, and placed it on the table next to you. You didn't want him leaving you in the night to smoke again. You stood up, albeit uncoordinated, and tugged him by the sleeve to the bedroom. Whether you were strong or weak didn't matter, he just let you tug him around with a quiet chuckle. It was adorable watching where you went and why with him.

ㅤYou pushed him onto the bed, turned off the lights, grabbed the blanket, and flopped ontop of him. "You're staying here tonight." You huffed. You were tired, exhausted. You probably forgot to turn off the TV in the living room-

ㅤ"…Hon, the TV in the living room is still on."

ㅤYou sighed, getting up and walking out of the room to turn that damned TV off. You just wanted to sleep and spend a genuine night with your love. You knew discussing how him leaving in the night hurt you, but that was a story for you when you didn't want to pass out from exhaustion.

ㅤYou laid next to him after locking the bedroom door, pushing yourself into his arms. "Tonight you're staying with me." You stated, not taking any questions. You didn't want to hear shit, you just wanted to wake up with him still asleep with you in his arms.

ㅤHe hesitated before shaking his head slightly with a smile, realizing there was no way out of this. Not like he was against it, but still.

ㅤYou were too sweet. He knew you were only doing this for his health. He didn't sleep as much as he should, even he accepted that. He just pulled you close as you drifted off into sleep.

ㅤ"…Rest well." He said, as his eyes fluttered shut and he fell asleep against you. ♡

#fandomfantasyy #fluff #sleep #oneshot #oneshot fanfiction #fnf #friday night funkin #friday night funkin garcello #garcello #garcello mod #fnf garcello #fanfiction #drabble #sleepy #safe travels

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legylou · 24 days

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BUGALOOS ONESHOTS HAS BEEN RELEASED ON WATTPAD!!

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hoomandoescosplay · 1 month

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The Adventures of Alastor Cat | Collection of Oneshots

Please send me or comment any requests you have for chapter ideas!! I’d love to write any ideas you all have for this fic!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

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maggie8317 · 3 months

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InuKog <3

#inuyasha #kouga #koga #inuyasha x koga #ust #oneshot fanfiction

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nichenarratives · 8 months

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A Doggone Shame: Part 1

An Obscure Oneshot

Inspiration art by Tracy J Butler

It's a rarity Mordecai finds himself home before sunrise, so it is with great delight he's enjoying some time to himself that fine autumn evening in 1926. He'd made dinner - a warming and nostalgic Matzo ball soup, with enough for tomorrow - had a shower, made a hot cup of tea and had just settled into his favourite armchair to continue reading Soldier's Pay by William Faulkner when there's a hurried, desperate knock on his apartment door.

The monochrome tom glances up, stilled in place with book in hand and cup halfway to his lips. He's not expecting to be bothered. The Lackadaisy would still be in full swing, which would keep most everyone Mordecai knows occupied until gone three tomorrow morning. It's possible Atlas has sent someone to fetch him at the last minute, but Viktor would not knock so gently, nor not announce himself.

Another knock, this one faster, more urgent. Mordecai sets his teacup down on its saucer and closes the book without saving the page, placing it on the chair. Slippered steps are silent as he crosses the room, habitually drawing a pistol from within his dressing gown on the way. He's tense as he presses his body to the wall beside the door - not the wood, as it's too flimsy - and cranes his neck to peer through the peephole, expecting at least an enemy.

Familiar large, yellow eyes framed by a deep brown bob cut stare back. The black feline sighs, though he's unsure if it is out of relief or vexation, and slips his pistol away. Taking a breath, he composes himself once more before answering the door. "Miss Pepp-Urgh!"

There had been more to his greeting, some formalities and an honest query for her visit, but Mordecai can't help but recoil when he sees what Ivy holds; a mangy animal, beady black eyes and nose standing in sharp contrast to scruffy, white fur. The creature is small enough to fit in an austere lady's handbag, sharp, unkempt claws loosely grasping Ivy's sleeve as its ratty tail swings uselessly between its legs.

A dog, he realises with disdain, scrunching his nose at the scent of slobber and damp fur. He takes a step back into his apartment and half-closes the door between them, as if the partial physical barrier might make it less revolting. Sadly, it does little. "Miss Pepper," he tries again, forgoing formality for precision. "Why is that… thing, outside my apartment?"

The girl puffs out her cheeks. "He's not a thing, he's a dog!"

Mordecai scowls at the creature, which seems to find joy in his discomfort; the thing wags its tail more intensely and in a fit of excitement, begins to squeak and struggle in Ivy's arms until unable to get free, begins frantically licking her chin. Ivy giggles and tries to block the slobbering tongue lashes with a hand, with very limited success. "Isn't he cute? I found him running about on campus, no collar or anything. He might be a stray!"

The very prospect of being slathered with dog germs makes Mordecai feel nauseous. He has no idea why anyone would willingly cohabit with such a beast, let alone allow it to share its microbiome so recklessly. Ivy has also pointedly avoided his questions. "If it's a stray," he asks carefully, choosing his words to evoke an accurate response. "Why bring it here? Why not transport the infernal thing straight to the pound-"

Ivy gasps and foregoes protecting her face from more licks to pointlessly cover the animal's ears with her free arm and hand. "Mordecai," she admonishes through grit teeth, yellow eyes wide and judgemental. "You can't be serious? They put strays down in the pound." She uncovers the dog's ears and snuggles him close, trapping its head under her chin. "I'm going to keep him! I just have to convince someone he'll be a great addition to the cafe!"

"Wonderful," the tuxedo tom cat answers flatly, ears laying flat and eyes narrowed with resignation. He doesn't want to run into this animal again, certainly not at his place of work. Unfortunately, given their unique brand of relationship, explaining as such would only encourage Miss May to keep the thing. He'll just have to pretend not to care. Starting now. "If that's all you wished to discuss, my tea is going cold. Good evening."

"Actually," the student interjects, even pressing a boot into the space between the door and frame before it can close, bringing the dog even closer while doing so. It's difficult for Mordecai not to hiss in discomfort at the renewed proximity. "I was hoping to ask a favour."

Green eyes fixed on the mongrel within inches of his pristine home, the statement snaps his gaze to wide, hopeful yellows. Ivy looks almost as pitiful as the animal she carries, gazing up at the man her Godfather would take everywhere like his personal shadow, batting her eyelashes and offering the soft smile that always works on Viktor.

He doesn't need to hear her question. "No."

"Come on, please?" The university student begs. Apparently still oblivious to his aversion, she holds it at arm's length towards Mordecai, forcing them within an inch of each other. Its tongue lolls absently, eyes devoid of intelligent thought, and its breath is faintly tainted with an unidentifiable stench. Mordecai grimaces. "It's just one night, and Atlas is so small! He won't get in the way or anything!"

Gingerly pushing her arms - and by extension, the dog - back into the hall, Mordecai snorts humourlessly. "Naming it after my employer does not garner additional sympathy for its wretched existence," the sharpshooter responds flatly. He feels like he needs another shower just being in the same building as the creature. "What on Earth led you to believe I would willingly shelter this creature at all?"

Her mouth twisting and brows knitting together, Ivy looks away. "Actually, I… you're kinda my last choice," she admits, holding Atlas tightly as he begins to whine and squirm anew. A few gentle pets calm him down, but her eyes water when their gazes lock once more."We're not allowed to keep pets in the dorms, so I asked Viktor and Freckle and even Miss May already if he could stay, but they were all yoo busy to talk tonight. I just need time to convince someone to keep him for a night or two while I convince Atlas to keep him. Please?"

Factoring in his own sacrifices and discomforts, Mordecai can see two possible outcomes to this request. First, he can refuse to assist and force her to take the dog to the pound. While this option would make his evening more pleasant, it could also incur negative affiliations with his character, of which he already has plenty. While unbothered by their perceptions, Atlas would likely find fault, something Mordecai does care to incur.

Alternatively, he could agree to house the glorified rat for a night or two, bolster his social standing with the few people he cares for the opinions of - namely, Atlas and Viktor, who are both fond of Miss Pepper - and garner appreciation from Ivy. Factoring in time to feed and clean up after the dog, it's a substantial and exhaustive alternative, but the potential benefits could outweigh the short-term detriments.

Despite the logical analysis, Mordecai feels like he's making a mistake when he sighs and opens his door wider again. "It can stay in the bathroom tonight," he concedes, but raises a stilling palm when Ivy begins to vibrate with excitement on the threshold. "A single night, Miss Pepper. I don't have the time nor patience to coddle the mongrel beyond that."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" The young feline speaks as she steps inside, bouncing on her heels as she heads for the bathroom backwards, so she can continue talking to her newest benefactor as she goes. "I'll bring him some food in the morning and go straight to Miss May to talk about Atlas after! I promise, you won't even know he's here! We just have to set him up with some old blankets for a bed."

Dark ears fold back, already regretting his decision. He'd not considered the messier components of a dog staying in his apartment, having assumed it would sleep on the tiles. "I do not own any old blankets; they are of the finest-"

"That's okay, he won't mind!" Ivy deposits the small bundle of problems onto the tiled bathroom floor and pivots straight to the airing cupboard, opening it up and extracting a slew of pristine, carefully folded sheets. To the tuxedo's horror - and before he can object - said sheets are dumped onto the likely bacteria-ridden tiled floor next to the toilet. "There! It's perfect! Now, some newspapers."

Mordecai has yet to recover from his dirtied sheets, hackles raised and tail fluffed when he dares to ask as Ivy retreats into the living area: "Newspapers?"

"Of course!" She yells from the next room, a sifting of paper as she rifles through his magazine rack. Mordecai stares at the little dog sniffing around his bathroom and the bundle of sheets with great interest. Its nose creates an obnoxious, displeasing snort with every breath, like a wheezing vacuum cleaner in dire need of a filter change. "In case he needs to go potty!"

Ivy reappears with an arm full of old broadsheets just as this new information clicks into place. The tom turns on her with a sharpness that could dislocate a lesser man's neck, his disgust evident on his usually carefully modulated muzzle. "Potty-? No, he is not… relieving himself in my bathroom. He will have to refrain until morning."

The black feline glances back to see Atlas is making himself at home in his borrowed sheets, climbing all over them while his nose works overtime. Mordecai shudders, deciding that once this ordeal is over with, he'll burn them, just to be sure whatever contaminants the beast left behind are dealt with. Ivy seems less concerned as she kneels down and sets out a number of sheets of paper. "He's a dog, not a person. He can't just hold it until you take him out."

Sitting back on her haunches, the university student studies her handiwork with a look of satisfaction. "There!" She says, leaning over to scratch behind a flopping ear. Atlas tilts his head slightly into the attention and begins jerkily twitching a back leg, his tongue lolling stupidly from his drooling maw. Ivy giggles. "You're all set, little guy! Now, be good for Uncle Mordecai, okay. Of course you will! Yes, you will!"

Mordecai watches the pair exchange idiocies with a sense of dread. He feels foolish, for being so shortsighted with his expectations. What had seemed to be a simple favour has already evolved into discomfort in his own home. The oddly overly-affectionate farewell Ivy offers the dog only intensifies those feelings, though he can't pinpoint a distinct emotion to associate it with as she kisses it's revolting head and stands back up.

"Thank you so much!" She reiterates as she turns back to the older feline lingering in the bathroom doorway. To both his surprise and relief, Ivy seems to step toward him for a hug, only to reconsider and falter at the last moment. An awkward second of silence passes before she clears her throat and edges around him, towards the front door. "I really mean it. Thank you! You saved that dog's life, Mr Heller. I'll make sure Atlas knows what a good man you are! See you tomorrow!"

She lets herself out, and Mordecai finds himself alone with a panting mongrel, the warm scents of saliva and dog seeping into the air as they stare each other down. The tuxedo tom cat wrinkles his nose, takes a step back into the living room and closes the bathroom door with care, eliminating the new problem from his peaceful evening. One night, he reassures himself as settled back into his chair, book in hand and a sip of lukewarm tea, trying to relax. How difficult can a dog be?

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