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somanyratsinthewalls · 9 months

Note

Heya ^^ ! This is my first time ever making a request so pardon me senpei for any mistake ! =^_^= * blushes * Can you plz plz plz write a scenario about a female reader who is treating and taking care of Zoro/Sanji/Law ? After being exhausted from battle with wounds and high fever and being dizzy .

I've searched a lot about this scenario but no one wrote about it T○T so it will be amazing if you do ♡_♡. Arigatoo senpai ~♡

Hey hey! I picked Zoro from the three, because like, vulnerable Zoro? *drools* …but if I have time I might do the others! I made this a wee bit smutty (ok maybe a lot) but... I hope you still enjoy!

Tender, Loving, Care. (+18)

Pairing: Zoro x afab!reader

Summary: Zoro suffers serious injuries. You provide him comfort in the ways he needs it the most.

Trigger Warnings: sex, injured sex, p in v sex, sponge bath porn?? I didn't proofread this my apologies. <3

You saw him go down. You could tell by the way he wasn’t getting back up that Zoro had been severely injured. You held your breath watching his body in a pile of smoldering rock. He still wasn’t moving.

“Zoro! Zoro you need to get up! Please!”

Still nothing. You started to run towards his body, not caring about the danger around you. You had to get to him. You screamed his name while you were running hoping he would pick up his head. Eventually, after what felt like both an eternity and a single moment, you reached his still body.

“Zoro it’s me, I’m here! See? I’m right here! We’re gonna get you to Chopper and you’re going to be fine!” You lifted his massive shoulders up to try and prop him up on his knees. This was the point where you saw the amount of blood. Maybe he wasn’t going to be fine… no. He had to be okay. There was so much left unsaid between you. He couldn’t go now.

Struggling to hold him up you tried to look his face.

“Please… Zoro… I need you… I need you to be okay…”

Zoro’s swollen eyelids fluttered open.

“Y/n…?”

The tears in your eyes that were welling finally spilled over. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re gonna be okay.”

You barely remember getting him back to the ship. Especially with his condition progressing as much as it was. By the time you had found your other crew mates Zoro’s skin was burning up, you worried his wounds were already getting infected.

You handed his heavy body over to Chopper and an annoyed Sanji, irate that he had been chosen to help carry this green lump back to the ship’s med bay.

“Waisshh…. Y/n? Where’shh y/n going?” Zoro slurred out, eyes darting around in all directions, clearly dizzy with pain and fever.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, moss head I will drop you on your ass and sail out of here without you.” Sanji bit back.

——

You paced in front of the med bay for an hour biting your nails, waiting for Chopper to come out with news on Zoro’s condition.

Nami popped her head into the hallway.

“You seriously need to chill out before you wear holes in the floor going back and forth like that. He’s gonna pull through, he always does.”

“You don’t know that. You didn’t see how bad it was…” Tears pricked at your eyes again.

“Yeah but it’s Zoro.” Nami made a good point. The man hadn’t become the world’s greatest swordsman, there’s no way his heart would give up on him without achieving it.

She ducked her head back into the hallway and you continued pacing. After a few moments your tiny fluffy doctor came out of the room taking the rubber gloves off his han-… hooves.

“He’s going to live.”

You shakily exhale, finally feeling able to breathe again.

“Luckily I had the type of antibiotics he needed on hand and I was able to suture up the wounds across his chest and clean them up. He’s going to need to rest for awhile but-“ Chopper diligently explained his course of treatment. You interrupted him by scooping up his tiny body and squeezing it.

“Oh thank you so much! You’re the best doctor in the whole world, we’re so lucky to have you!” You set down the reindeer and asked, “Could… could I see him for awhile?”

Still heart-eyed at your praise, he agrees.

“Sure y/n, it might do him some good to have a little company!”

You nod and grab the doorknob and open the door to the med bay. Zoro lay on a hospital bed low to the ground. You barely recognized him under all the gauze bandages, some showing old blood stains. You carefully tread over and kneel beside the bed… You had never seen him so fragile. He was always so forceful, so confident, so unbreakable. But here he was, sweating and wincing in a hospital bed. You were scared that just breathing too hard around him would make his pain worse. You were so mesmerized by his state that when he spoke you jolted upwards.

“Y/n…”

You let out a sigh, “I’m here.”

“You saved me-“ He could barely make out the words, straining for each breath.

You shushed him quickly, “No. No talking. You need to save your energy. Please, just rest.” You reached out and gently placed his bandaged hand in your shaking one. He struggled to get out a protest before lolling back into a deep sleep.

You waited until he started snoring to let go of his hand and head over to the sink and grab a washcloth. You dampened it with cool water and returned to Zoro’s bedside. You spent the next few minutes dabbing the sweat beading his forehead and clearing up patches of blood on his body that Chopper had missed.

You were so worried about him, but you couldn’t help enjoying this intimacy. There had always been something between you and Zoro. Neither of you would ever acknowledge it, but it was clear to everyone that you were special to him and he to you. He always passed the first plate of food to you at dinner (if Luffy didn’t rip it out of his grip), he would stick close by you in difficult fights in case you got into a jam, and he would hold your gaze longer than he would with anyone else.

You slept next to him that night. In fact, you slept next to him every night for the next week. After each long day with your crew, you returned to Zoro’s side, silently switching places with Chopper as his attending. You would freshen his pillows, re-wrap his bandages, all while telling him about your day. Each day his strength grew and he was able to move more and engage in more conversation. He was still too weak to sit up or lift his arms for more than a few moments. After 7 days in the infirmary and however many days before that you had to insist…

“I’m giving you a bath. You smell like literal shit.” You sidle up next to his bed on your knees with a bucket of water and a fluffy sponge.

“The hell you are, woman! You’re going to drop me in the tub and I’ll crack my head open!” Zoro tries to sit up on his elbows.

“I know I would, that’s why I’m going to wash you here.” You begin to soak the sponge and wring it out over the bucket of warm water. "I don’t care what you say, you reek.” You reach your spare hand over his chest and start removing his bandages. You unwrap them to his waist and start moving the damp sponge gently over his broad chest. He let out a hiss at the sudden moisture on his skin. Silently you continue to wash him, nearly knocked backwards when you lifted his massive arms to scrub the pits. After awhile his upper body was sufficiently clean and you moved your position a few feet down on the bed to begin at his lower half.

You felt your breath quicken and your heart start to beat faster. Your intentions were to care for him and his health but you failed to realize this would involve you seeing him completely naked. You hands hover over the bandages on his pelvis before reaching forward.

“Y/n… you really don’t have to…” Zoro protested, his cheeks tinged pink at the awkwardness of the situation and how close you were to touching him there…

“I want to, Zoro, it’s fine. Please just relax. Let me do this for you.”

He flopped his head back onto the hospital bed in frustration, knowing he was far too weak to argue with you or stop you. You hands starting removing the bandages around his lower half, trying not to stare at his penis even thought it was directly in your line of sight.

*hmm… carpet does match the drapes…* You chuckled to yourself. He was impressive, even soft.

His breathing quickened as you starting washing his lower stomach. Trying to stay platonic, you zone out and stare at a point across the room. You slowly moved the sponge in circles, trying to eradicate his body of any filth left behind by fierce battles. You felt something tap the outside of your wrist. You snap out of your focus and realize it was the tip of Zoro’s cock. He had become hard from your hands on him, his huge dick leaking and bobbing up towards his stomach.

You were shocked, your head snapped up towards his face. You felt your face turn red. He felt his cock brush you again and moved his wounded arm to cover his eyes. Zoro groaned into the pit of his elbow.

“I am SO sorry about this y/n… I just can’t help it… You’re just so… you know… ugh” Zoro turns his head to the side to further hide from your gaze.

You couldn’t believe he was like this… so shy and tender in front of you. You decide to push it further.

“I’m so… like what, Zoro? Tell me… You can trust me…” You lower your voice to barely above a whisper. You needed to hear him say it.

“Fuck, y/n…” Zoro still covered his face. “You’re so fucking hot, okay? You’re so pretty. Look at you, beautiful, even? I mean of course you are, I don’t know, okay? And your hands are so soft… and you saved my life, y/n…” He finally moved his arm and turned his head to look at you.

“How could I not feel like this around you?” He finally said.

Your brain went haywire and you could have sworn you blacked out. You jumped up, dropping the sponge back in the bucket and caged in his head with your arms. You met his eyes for a moment, so soft and pleading, unlike anything you’ve ever seen in him. You smashed your lips on his in a frantic kiss. Zoro returned your action as much as he could in his state, not able to move his arms or neck the way he wants. He wishes he could have his hands all over your supple body, round and heavy breasts, your plush ass… But he couldn’t… not tonight at least.

You pulled back from him for a moment to remove your clothes. You were so needy for him that he didn’t even get a chance to enjoy your naked form in full before you jumped back on top of him. Zoro groaned as you slid back and forth across his thick length against his stomach as you worked yourself up on him. You were letting out soft pants, grinding your pussy on his member at a quick pace. As you moved on his body your breasts dangled dangerously close to his face. He was so close to being able to suckle your soft pink nipples, just begging to be kissed, but his injuries wouldn't allow for it. Damn it.

“Slow down woman…” Zoro breathed out, he never suspected you as someone who was so bold sexually. “What are we rushing for? I’m half dead, baby.” Zoro panted out a laugh.

“I-I’m sorry Zoro it’s just I need you so bad… been waiting so long to have you like this… and when I thought I lost you? I-“

Realizing that this situation had affected you greatly as well, he simply must oblige to your needs.

“Okay then, baby, you can have it. Take it. It’s yours.”

You held your hips up and lined his fat cock up with your seeping hole. You sunk down and sighed dreamily as it filled you better than you had ever imagined in your wettest dreams.

“Fuck-“ Zoro groaned and slammed his eyes shut. You cunt was fluttering around him and he thought that was going to be it for him. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. You had your head thrown back, hair dangling down to your ass, lips parted in an open mouthed slight smile.

“Oh my God Z, why didn’t you say it was this good before?”

Zoro smirked at your praise.

“You never asked.”

You start to bounce up and down shallowly on his cock. The way it was deliciously filling you to the brim each and every time had your head swimming. Your belly was starting to tighten with each bounce and he could feel your pussy gush more and more down his balls.

“You’re close babe, you’re so messy. I had no idea you were such a dirty little girl. You in here every night, taking care of me like you’re so innocent. But really? You wanted to be here riding my cock, huh? Such a perfect, nasty little thing. You wanna cum for me? Make it even messier?”

You had no idea he could be so dirty! He had been barely alive a week ago and now he was reading all your filthiest thoughts through telepathy with his dick buried in your womb.

“Yes please, yes I want to cum please! Wanna make a mess on you, Zoro, please!” You tried to grind yourself to your own release, but you felt two large scarred hands grab your waist. Zoro was using what little strength he had left in his body to push you down further on his cock and grind it into your sweet spot.

“Oh my god I’m gonna-!” You scream. The pressure releases and your pussy rapidly spasms, each bringing you a wave of pleasure as you gush onto Zoro’s pelvis. Zoro never lets go of your hips, wanting to make sure he is working you through your full orgasm.

“There it is baby, I know,” He coos at you as he grinds your body into him frantically. You were whining incoherently. “I know baby, I need it too, I’m almost there… fuck, y/n”

Zoro groans as he pumps your body full of his cum. He was gasping for air, he had never cum like this before.

He looses his grip on your waist and you fall towards him, landing on his huge chest. He splays his arms out as his sides and you wrap your arms around him. Both of your chests were heaving. After a few moments Zoro looks down.

“Fuck… I think one off my wounds opened up…” He touched his chest and brought his fingers up to his face. “Shit…”

You were immediately brought out of your post coital bliss and jumped up to grab your clothes.

“There’s no time for that! What if I die here!” Zoro shouted at you.

“Oh you’ll be fine! And I am NOT explaining to Chopper why I’m leaving this room naked! And frankly, you better not either.” You snap back at him.

“Fair…”

“I’ll be right back.” You say as you finally pull your shirt over your head. You reach for the doorknob and pull the door open to leave.

“Oh hey y/n?” Zoro hollers at you from the bed in the center of the room.

“Yeah?” You respond.

“Love you.”

You smile back at him.

“Love you too.

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portgasdwrld · 11 months

Note

Hiii <3

Could you maybe write the monster trio + ace reacting to when their s/o is sick and has a fever? I’ve been pretty sick this week and I think this would be a cute idea T-T

Tysm<3

Hiii, you are my first ask and yes no problem! I hope you will feel better soon 🤍 Sending you much strength 🫶🏻

I Hope you will like it somehow. I didn’t know truly what direction I wanted to go but I would like to think it still satisfied your demand💕it’s 2am here so sorry for any mistakes, I will correct later 🤷🏻‍♀️

📂Op men + sick s/o reader

Featuring: Monster trio + Ace

Warning: Pure fluff so none, F!reader

Note: I got carried away. I wrote sm oml 💀

Luffy

Your name was being screamed across the ship by none other than the captain himself. He was excited to show you a new goofy trick that Chopper and him had come up with. But when he didn’t receive any response from you, he turned to the small reindeer with a confused expression.

-Oi, where is y/n ?

-She said she felt dizzy so she went to lie down in her room.

Nami answered him while putting down her magazine. She furrowed her eyebrows now also worried about your silent behaviour. It’s been now around three hours since you had left. You weren’t one to be overly loud like your boyfriend, but having you completely out of sight was worrisome.

-Aahh?! Nami! You should’ve told me she was feeling unwell!

Chopper screamed worried as he ran across the ship to grab his medical bag. He ran to your room, soon followed by Luffy and Nami.

As they opened the door, they watched your frame all curled up in the sheets as if it was cold outside. Luffy ran to you and touched your warm forehead.

-Chopper ! She’s burning hot! Do something!

-Yes!

Your eyes slightly opened from all the noises suddenly filled in your room.

-Everyone…what are y’all doing here…

-Y/N! ARE YOU OKAY?!

Luffy screamed happy to see you awake.

-DON’T SCREAM LIKE THAT! ITS NOT GONNA HELP HER HEADACHE AND FEVER!

-You are one to talk…, he mumbled under his breath after being yelled at by Nami.

-I think you simply caught a cold. I will ask Sanji to make you something warm and you will eat some medicine to help your fever go down.

Chopper concluded as he looked at you with his big eyes, reassuring you that you will be okay. You weakly smiled.

-Thank you, Choppy

-Y/N! I will keep you company until you feel better !

He announced suddenly determined. He caressed your hair softly and his eyes filled with worries. Nami shook her head and gave you a sorry smile.

-You don’t have to… I’m fine…

-No, you’re not. I will stay here with you until you are yourself again. I won’t leave you alone.

He retorted suddenly full of seriousness. It wasn’t like him to be so serious about things in general, but seeing him like that with you made your heart warm.

He indeed stayed the whole day and the day after too. He kept you company until you started feeling better.

He tried to make you laugh by telling you stupid stories about his childhood and doing goofy ass shit. He would ask Sanji to make you the best nutritive food he could so you will heal faster. He cuddled with you at night even though Chopper told him he could catch your cold. He tried his best to brush your hair, but he let that to Nami after failing miserably 💀.

He tried his best to make you forget you were suffering even though it could be just for a second. If he was able to make you smile, he considered you were slowly getting better. He loves you so much. So for him, you needed to stay by his side until you both achieved your goals and more, and he was gonna make sure of it.

Zoro

-Zoro, I think we’re lost.

-No we are not.

He said convinced of himself. You rolled your eyes well aware of the direction skills of your boyfriend. Y’all stopped for a second trying to figure your position (mostly you) in this jungle. You leaned against a tree and let your body slide down until you were sat on the ground. Your head leaned on the tree as you searched for the map you found on the ground yesterday.

-Aren’t you a bit too exhausted for a little walk in the forest?

Zoro teased unaware with a slight chuckle as he watched your frame completely relying on the tree to hold your body. You have been sweating a lot more than you are used to and fatigue waves were hitting your body since y’all slept in this jungle. You didn’t say anything not wanting to worry your boyfriend or the crew, but it was starting to take a toll on you.

-Yeah, I don’t know…

You replied without much interest to bicker with him. You pulled the map out of your bag and started to try to localize y’all position.

-Hey, are you okay?

You feel your boyfriend tower over you, creating a much needed shade. You blinked at him as you felt your vision getting weak and nodded. He shook his head and leaned towards you and placed his hand on your forehead.

-You are burning. We need to get you to Chopper.

-No don’t bother, I’m alright. It’s probably the heat from this place.

-Y/n, you’re obviously not feeling your best. You’re sweating and your body is barely keeping you conscious at this rate.

-I’m fine seriously.

You insisted with now tears in your eyes because of a sudden sharp pain you felt in your head. You had a bad headache in the morning but it seemed to have left, but now it came back even worse. Zoro eyes filled with worries seeing your eyes get teary. He picked up your body in a bridal style and pecked your forehead.

-Okay let’s try to find the others as quick as we can.

You chuckled knowing it would probably take hours with his poor direction skills. You let your head rest on his chest and closed your eyes. You trusted him no matter what anyway.

-Okay

It was the last word you said before you fell asleep in his arms. Sanji and Chopper had randomly fell on the both of you as Zoro was walking with you in his arms and yelling the crews name to grab their attention. He explained shortly the situation to the doctor. They decided it would be better to head back to the ship.

After some time you opened your eyes and saw y’all were still walking in this warm jungle, but with now Sanji at the front followed by Chopper.

-You’re awake? How do you feel?

Zoro deep voice asked you softly, but his eyes were still following the cooks figure.

-I’m okay, thank you for carrying me.

He didn’t reply but simply smiled and nodded. His eyes looked down at you with a rare grin.

-Let’s just heal you already so we can go back to our explorations.

-More like finding our way out of being lost, you mumble weakly with a weak smirk.

-Yeah yeah whatever.

Sanji

-What a beautiful day, especially when I’m accompanied by my beautiful lady~

Sanji exclaimed while lightening up the cigarette at the edge of his lips. He tightened slightly his grip of your hand as he gave you a sweet look. You chuckled and rested your head for few seconds on his shoulders.

-Of course, how could I say no to a grocery shopping with my beloved man.

He blushed like crazy at the nickname and left a quick kiss on your cheek.

-AHHHH, Im so lucky to have you~ Look! The vegetables look fresh which is perfect when we have to sail for a long time.

He excitedly walked to the few standing shops to see the quality of the vegetables and you followed behind him, your hands still intertwined in his.

You weren’t paying much attention to what he was saying due to a little fever you caught this morning. You didn’t know the cause but you were still able to function, it was just giving you a harder time to do simple task. Like walking around the new island and spending time with your boyfriend, it was surprisingly more demanding than you would’ve thought.

-Did I lost you, ma jolie ?

He asked worried that he got carried away with his excitement to try new ingredients and buy fresh food for everyone. You used your other hand to caress his arm and reassure him.

-Of course not, I’m sorry. I think the heat is getting to me, it’s making me feel a little dizzy.

-Would you like to sit somewhere in the shade until you feel better ? We can go back to the ship if you want? I will make you something refreshing.

-I think sitting in the shade for a moment could help.

-Alright my love.

He kissed you once again and you two walked to a cafe and sat on one of the table on the terrasse. He ordered a cold drink for each of you. You closed your eyes and let your body lean over the back of the chair. You felt nauseous on top of the fever, it wasn’t your day.

-You look pale, darling.

Sanji expressed in a soft and worried tone.

-I think I’m sick, you retorted plainly, accepting your fate. You hated being sick but you knew not to push yourself too hard to heal faster.

-Should we head back to the Sunny ?

-I will. You still have to shop for the food. It’s important.

-You are important too. It won’t kill anyone if I do it tomorrow or later.

-Sanji, we can’t afford staying somewhere too long. Robin stayed on the ship, I’m sure we will figure something out until Chopper comes back.

-Are you sure darling? Let me at least walk you to ship and make sure you are okay before I go. Please?

You sighed and a smile curved your lips.

-I cant say no to you, can’t I ?

He smirked satisfied. After drinking your refreshers and paying, you both started to walk to the Sunny.

-Do you want me to carry you?

Sanji asked looking down at you. You were walking a little slow and you seemed out of breath. Your sweaty hand was tightly holding into your boyfriends one. He pushed your hair behind your ear and you blushed a little.

-I think I can do it…

-Like I’m gonna let my lady walk all the way to the ship in a sickness state.

He retorted determined after you turned him down. You secretly smiled to yourself. You loved how much of gentleman he was. He carried you all the way to the Sunny and asked Robin to take care of you until the doctor was back from his exploration.

He made sure she would run to any doctor if your state got worse. You reassured him it was simply a little fever and you were fine. He reluctantly left after making sure you were all comfortable in your sheets, that you had your favourite snacks, a big water bottle, your favorite books, etc.

-You are sure, you don’t want me to stay?

-Sanji, I swear to god if you don’t go I will kick your ass out of the boat.

He caressed your hair back and pecked the top of your head. He lifted your face by putting his finger under your chin as if he was trying to read your eyes and make sure you were truly honest with him. He gave you a long kiss on the lips and brushed your cheek with his thumb before pulling back.

-Alright! I WILL BE BACK SO REST A LOT! I WILL MAKE YOU A GOOD SOUP!

He exclaimed as he ran out of your room. Robin walked in after his departure to check up on you. You collapsed in your bed, eyes closed as sleep took over you. Robin shook lightly her head as she closed the door behind her. You stayed strong in front of him just not to worry him. Sanji made a bussing soup when he returned tho.

Ace

-So my girlfriend is sick ?

Ace spoke as he opened the door of your room. You were reading a book that you bought not too long ago at the last island y’all stopped. Your eyes looked at your freckled lover that had just bursted into your space.

-I guess I’m not so untouchable, you declared sarcastically with a smile. He scoffed and walked over to your bed. He softly grabbed your face and kissed you.

-Aren’t you scared of being sick by kissing me, you idiot.

-Like I care, I know I have my pretty girl who will take care of me.

-I ain’t no doctor Fire boy. The only nurse fantasy you will get is Marco.

-Can you not put images in my head.

You both started to laugh. He sat on your bed and stared at you.

-What

You finally ask after he stayed silent.

-You are still cute even in that state.

You lightly push his big arm as you roll your eyes. You were really self aware that your hair was a little bit a mess and you had a red nose. It wasn’t your best day, but it still made you blush to hear those words from him.

-I got you some candies. I know those are your favourite.

-Omg, I was in need of those. Thank you!

You exclaimed at the view of the candies in the small bag he had brought. Your pulled him into you and pressed your lips against his. He smiled against your lips and pulled away.

-I thought you were worried about me getting sick too.

He muttered barely few inches away from your lips. You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck.

-Shut up and cuddle with me.

-Don’t you have a fever?

He asked conscious of his abnormal body temperature because of his DF.

-Yeah but my body feels cold. You know how getting sick just fucks up your body temperature.

He shrugged his shoulders not truly sure to understand what you meant but he kissed your lips again before pushing himself in the bed next to you.

-Sooo, what were you reading?

-A romance book- oh babe, can you grab the bottle on my desk? Marco told me to drink some this morning before he left but I got distracted.

He nodded and stood up grabbing the bottle for you on the desk. He opened it and poured some on a spoon.

-Open your mouth.

You grinned and opened your mouth. You drank the bitter medicine with a slight chill going down your spine.

-Damn that was gross

You said while sticking your tongue out.

-When it’s gross, it means it’s gonna work fast.

You perked your eyebrow at him and smiled.

-Since when are you a doctor, baby?

-Since my pretty girl is sick.

He replied after jumping in your bed and pulling you to rest on his chest. You closed your eyes to just enjoy the moment. You let your arm rest on his waist as your ear was pressed against his chest, hearing his soft heart beats.

-I think I’m already feeling a little bit better, you comment as you feel your body relax in his embrace.

A silent fell between you two. You furrowed your eyebrows.

-Ace ?

You looked up only to see he was dead asleep.

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 3 months

Text

🗡️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Twelve

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: None.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~3.0k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

The clock hanging on the wall told you that it was just shy of four am, and your eyes burned something fierce to back that up. At this point, Shanks had developed a fever that made sweat drip from his forehead and cold sweats rattle his body. Was this common enough of an occurrence that the men usually just left him to sleep till morning? The thought horrified you because Shanks was clearly suffering. You had suffered from a fever once, your mother had punished you by making you stay outside in the rain overnight after you had made a mistake. The headache alone had left you whimpering in bed and the cold sweats combined with body aches had you all but catatonic. Your mother hadn’t apologized and had even gotten mad all over again because you had been bed ridden for a week.

Blinking away the haze in your eyes, you reached over and placed the back of your hand against his forehead once more. How could he feel even hotter now? Your lips pinched and you reached for the cloth, dipping it back in the bowl of cool water to wipe the newest layer of sweat that had accumulated. You ran it along his forehead, brushing back sweaty red strands and contemplating if you should just go and grab Hongo. Moving to stand up, you were caught off guard when clammy fingers closed around your retreating ones.

“Leaving so soon?” Your eyes darted to Shanks, your face brightening up that he was awake. Sitting back down, you gave him a faint smile while giving his fingers a gentle squeeze.

“I should get Hongo, your fever is only getting worse and I think you might need medicine.” You told him, looking to the door of the cabin. Shanks’ grip on your hand tightened.

“And leave me all alone?” The look in his eyes was pleading, but you could also see something simmering deeper within his dark eyes. Shanks tugged on your hand, pulling it towards his mouth were he kissed your knuckles. “You wouldn’t be so mean, madam.” Your fingers twitched beneath his hot lips and you swallowed hard.

“I absolutely would,” You replied faintly, tugging your joined hands away from his lips and back to his side. “Your fever is getting worse and I’m concerned.”

“Everything will be fine if you are here,” Shanks said, his voice dropped in tone. His lips curved into a teasing smirk that you had always found rather attractive and you had to count to five in your head. Clearly his fever had addled a few brain cells… or had it? “It’s always nice to have such treasure at my side.”

“Wishful thinking,” You told the man, using your other hand to push his head back to the pillow. “Go to sleep, you need it.” Shanks followed your orders, but his intense gaze didn’t stray once from your lovely face. You were going to pull your hand back, but his grip on your fingers remained firm and strong. “Are you going to let my hand go?”

“Why would I do that?” Shanks shot back, his lazy smile widening. “It fits in mine so perfectly.” You blinked at him and raised an eyebrow. Oh yes, most certainly addled…

“Will you rest if I hold your hand?” You probed, hoping that you could sway him into making a good choice in regards to his health by staying in bed.

“If the madam insists,” Shanks agreed, snuggling back into his bed. You sighed in relief and slumped back against the chair. Observing his face, you noticed that while he had closed his eyes to rest, a big grin was still plastered on his face.

“What is so exciting about holding my hand?” You asked, Shanks didn’t open his eyes but replied nonetheless.

“What isn’t exciting about holding your hand?” He stated with honesty. “There are a great many things I would like to do with you, treasure, and holding your hand is the least of it.” You rolled your eyes and told him to go back to sleep.

When Shanks woke up after breaking through the worst of his phantom pain fever, he was surprised to find himself staring at the ceiling of his cabin. Last he remembered, his stump had been throbbing as he and the men pushed through jungle and storm to hunt down the devil fruit they had come for. He must have had a flare up. But why was he in his bed when you were occupying it?

“Aria demanded it,” Hongo’s voice was whisper soft, and twisting his head to the side, Shanks saw him packing up a few medical supplies. Hongo eyed his Captain. “The bed. She demanded Benn put you in your bed, put her foot down so I hear.” Shanks eyebrows rose.

“Aria got up when we got back? Did the men wake her?” Hongo snorted, clearly the overnight fever had gotten to his Captain because in what world would you have gone to bed worried?

“You’re assuming she went to bed in the first place, Shanks.” Hongo corrected him. “She never did. Spent the entire day pacing around like a caged animal. I had her do inventory to get her mind off worrying.” Shanks wasn’t happy to hear that. He knew you hadn’t been happy with their decision to follow through with their plans, but you hadn’t tried to stop them. But he hadn’t expected this bad of a reaction! “She said she had a bad feeling, lasted all day and it was making her physically nauseous. Turns out she was right.”

“Job still had to be done.” Shanks rasped back, grimacing from the lingering headache.

“Aye, and you can tell her that yourself.” Hongo agreed before snickering. “After she gives you a lecture about doing jobs in bad weather.” The doctor nodded his chin to the other side of Shanks bed, and that is when the red haired pirate realized he had his fingers wrapped around a hand. Rolling his head to the other side, Shanks was met with the sight of lavender hair spilling onto the side of his bed next to his hand which was enveloping yours quite securely. “Don’t know when she finally passed out but by the looks of it she was up for a while.”

Shanks was not pleased to hear that you had stayed up so late because of him, but he was grateful to have you at his side. Now if he could just get out of this bed and get you into it…

“And don’t even think about swapping places with her,” Hongo called Shanks out. Shanks gave his doctor a glare while Hongo picked up his med box. “You still have a bit of a fever and Aria will not be happy to wake up in bed.”

“Remind me again who the Captain of this ship is?” Shanks asked, grimacing as a shaft of sunlight hit his eyes.

“Not you while the madam is bossing everyone around.” Hongo snorted, making a quick get away before Shanks could toss out a come back. “Stay put, for Aria’s sake.” With that, the doctor was out the door leaving Shanks alone in his cabin with you still blissfully asleep next to him. He didn’t dare wake you from your sleep, not after the night you had. Who was supposed to be watching over who again?

The longer you remained on the Red Force, the more you came out of the shell hardened by your upbringing. It was rather amusing to watch you boss men twice your size around, and yet, there was something so nice about having a company of a female on board his ship. He glanced down at his hand, firmly wrapped around yoursin great indicator of who was holding who’s hand. He could take secret enjoyment in how nicely your fingers fit in his. Perfectly even.

Shanks settled back into his bed and allowed the floral scent of your soap to fill his senses. Lavender. He and the men always made sure that you had what you needed when if came to personal care items such as soap and shampoo. None of them really knew what scent to get you, but they all knew of your hate for roses. They had argued more than any of them cared to admit over the choices of scent before Benn had suggested lavender. It was a nice enough scent, the men would always remember it because of your lavender hair, and you had been looking at some lavender products on one of their stops.

Your fingers twitched in his grasp and you let out a soft groan. Shanks watched as you slowing lifted your head and blearily blinked through lavender strands of hair. Your eyes met his and for a few precious moments, Shanks got to stare into your unguarded eyes. Then it clicked into your mind that Shanks was awake and staring back at you and you jerked into a sitting position, you fingers abruptly sliding from his and eyes re-guarding themselves.

“You’re awake!” You exclaimed, relief flooding your sluggish and tired body. Shanks gave you a small smile before squinting closer at your face. He’d been so taken by your unguarded eyes that he hadn’t even noticed that you had dark marks beneath them.

“And you look exhausted,” Shanks replied, raising his hand to brush his fingertips over the evidence of your exhaustion. You gave him a look in return.

“That tends to happen when one stays up worrying,” You stated dryly. Shanks didn’t miss the light barb in your words and let his fingers trail down your face before reaching for your hand again. You let him take it.

“I know you aren’t happy that we went out in that weather,” He started, observing your eyes which narrowed. “But think about it, bad weather, low visibility… it was the perfect time for us to nab the item we were after and had the least amount of risk.”

“Least amount of risk?” You repeated, hardly believing what you were hearing. “Shanks, Benn had to carry you back to the ship and I spent the night watching your body temperature go higher and higher! I might not be versed in the conditions you suffer from but even I know that the weather conditions you headed out in yesterday habitually worsen your ailment.” Shanks dropped back against the pillow and tried not to groan at your scolding.

“Amputation, stump, call it what it is Aria. No need for you to dance around calling it an ailment.”

“It’s called having tact,” You snipped out with attitude. “I’m finding that many people are without.”

“Aye, and that’s what makes you so special.” He agreed, ignoring the ache his shoulder made at that moment. “I know what triggers flare ups but this trip wasn’t one I could put off.” You still had a sour look on your face. “It is also not the first time I’ve had a flare up, nor will it be my last.” Your scowl deepened and the pirate sighed. He was making this worse, wasn’t he? “Forgive me for putting myself in harms way for the sake of the mission?” An almost unbearable period of silence followed as you thought over his words.

“Considering you will most likely be repeating such circumstances in the near future, I shall acquiesce to your apology.” You finally sighed out. “Such are the perils of pirating and I shall never truly understand it, but it is your passion and therefore I will respect your choices.”

“That was the most passive aggressive response to an apology I have ever heard.” Shanks huffed out, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But if it means you aren’t going to be scowling at me I will take it. Your smile is far too lovely for your face to be etched with worry.”

“Then take the rest you need lying down,” You chided, fussing over him once more.

You were back on dry land, handing over the devil fruit the men had claimed during the storm. Well, Benn was, you were with Shanks exploring the local market. It wasn’t as busy as the one you had been to on Ingles so you were far more relaxed in the environment. Shanks let you wander from stall to stall, eyes shining brightly from the hand crafted goods. You were content to look, preened over the simplest of objects, and never asked for a single thing.

Shanks would have bought you anything you desired, but you didn’t ask for anything. Not for one of the pretty necklaces a craftsman had tried to peddle to you. Nor any of the fancy, decadent pies that smelled heavenly. Not even the delicate taiyaki that were being freshly made despite you setting your eyes on them and not being able to take them off. The hungry look in your eyes became too much and he placed his hand on your back and pushed you towards the stand.

“Come on,” He spoke with a smile and chuckle. “It’s been a few hours since breakfast and I think we’re both due for a snack.”

“You aren’t just saying that because I’ve been drooling, have you?” You probed, eyeing the red haired man scrupulously while patting your lips. His grin widened and pushing you up to the stall, Shanks proceeded to order a batch of red bean taiyaki, handing coins over to cover the cost of the treats. You watched in rapt attention as the fish treats were made fresh, right in front of you. A thought popped into your mind when the treats were being filled with a brown mixture. “I have no idea what red bean tastes like Shanks.”

He gave you a reassuring smile.

“Do you like chocolate?”

“Based on the rare occasion that I had a taste I believe I do.” You answered, thinking back to the last time you had chocolate. That’s right, it had been a tea party for one of your mother’s friends and the cook had made special chocolate tarts. They had looked delicious and smelled divine! But naturally, your mother had only allowed you to eat a few meager bites before declaring that it was such a nice day and you had wanted to show the ladies the garden. So with several approving tuts from the older women you had been herded away from your barely touched tart. Shanks saw your mind disappear on him for a few moments, shrouded in distant pain, but didn’t press what you were thinking about.

“Well I can’t say you’ll definitely like red bean because you’ve never had it, but they have chocolate in the filling.” Shanks told you brightly.

“I am more than willing to try it if my drooling hadn’t clued you in,” You said with a frank look. “At this point in my life I am willing to try everything.”

“Don’t overdo it, I don’t want you getting sick again,” You snorted as Shanks took the bag of freshly cooked taiyaki from the vendor. He held out the bag to you and you peered inside before taking one. Golden brown, the treat was almost too hot to handle as you and Shanks began walking again. You started nibbling on the edge of the pastry, getting a sense of the texture first. Then deciding that you liked how the breaded part tasted, took delicate bite to not burn your mouth. That was all it took for you to take another bite, and then another, and another, until the entire taiyaki was gone and you were reaching for another one. “What did I just say?”

You ignored Shanks’ comment and devoured the next treat, sighing in such happiness that anyone around you might have thought that nothing in your little world could have ever been wrong. Your petulance was amusing and despite the fact that Shanks was worried you might over do it with the taiyaki, he didn’t stop you from demolishing half the bag. Walking around some more, you made several stops to look at fabric bolts, a stall with various trinkets, and even a little shop that sold music boxes!

You took extra time looking at the music boxes, finding one that played a short little piece that reminded you of your childhood nanny. She had been nice to you and a wonderful supplement to the lack of maternal presence in your life. But she had been too nice to you and your mother had gotten rid of her not even a year after she had first come to Bonn Manor. You remembered that she used to hum a song from her home island as she bathed you, brushed out your hair, and tended to your needs. It was, perhaps, the only fond memory you had in your life.

You couldn’t buy it, not when you had to be careful with your Berry.

So you moved on, leaving an observant Shanks to trail after you while making a mental note to come back and buy the music box you had spent so much time staring at with such a fond expression. It wasn’t something you’d let him buy for you outright, so he was going to have to resort to playing dirty. Grinning at the knowledge that you both would play dirty towards each other, Shanks lounged after you thinking about all the sneaky ways he could spoil you for surely at this point in your life you were deserving of it.

Well, all of his crew, Shanks included thanks to his red hair, had a piece of red on them. For Benn it was a special red hair tie that never came loose or got lost. Lucky Roux had his favorite red goggles, Limejuice a red shirt that he always wore, and Bonk Punch a red vest. All of the crew had some red item, except you. But Shanks didn’t want you to have a red shirt, or a red hair tie, or a pair of goggles. You needed something that fit you. His eyes caught sight of a local jewelers stand and the pirate began sneakily steering you towards it while you happily munched on the remaining taiyaki.

Date Published: 2/28/24

Last Edit: 2/28/24

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#shanks x reader #shanks x you #one piece shanks #red haired shanks #shanks #one piece #opla #opla shanks

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tennessoui · 5 months

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wip wednesday

aka something i started writing in a fever dream last night lol (the anakin pov of 'hold my heart more gently than you do my throat')

(so squick tag:a/b/o, reversal au, dub-con, dubious morality the whole thing)

What Vader’s precious padawan doesn’t seem to realize about himself is that he is young.

And he is restless.

Perhaps he thinks in his panic and his pain that the best place for them to go is to some seaside cottage where they will spend the rest of their days locked away from society—Vader because he has revealed himself to be a monster.

And Obi-Wan, because he still loves him despite his monstrosity.

Perhaps he thinks this is what he needs, what they need.

To be farmers. Traders. Fishermen.

But Vader knows his padawan better than anyone else in the galaxy, even himself. He knows that he longs for more, that he cannot just sit by the ocean when people are suffering, when lives are at stake, when there are actions he can take to relieve that suffering—to save those lives.

It is what would have made him such a good Jedi, if Vader had not gotten there first.

And yet it is Obi-Wan who looks at him suspiciously when he lets the ship touch down outside a small shack. Vader bites at the inside of his cheek so he will not roll his eyes.

Always suspicious. Always questioning. Always pushing back against him as if Anak—Vader has not spent the past four years trying to give him what he wants. Anything he wants.

At least now there is nothing and no one stopping him from pushing his stubborn padawan up against the wall of the ship to kiss him quiet. At least now he is allowed to slip his hands under the bands of his padawan’s tunics and press his fingers into the soft skin of his thighs, his hips.

“Nhhg, Anakin,” Obi-Wan complains, pulling his head away and freeing his mouth. “Stop it, we must—there are messages we must get ou—“

“Can’t I touch it, sweetheart?” Vader asks, taking advantage of Obi-Wan’s tilted head to nuzzle into his throat, over his scent gland. What a sweet padawan he has, to allow him to scent him so freely over the last few years. Anakin will never leave him bare again. “The cunt I gave up an empire for?”

#wip wednesday #i will be picking at this over the course of a while i think #but it was one of those things where i thought about it #and wanted to lol #it's gonna be a bit more dark and dub conny than the first one #because its from vaderkin's pov #and vaderkin would probably struggle to see the love obi-wan has for him #even if it's very obvious that he loves him #he thinks in terms of power and control #not usually love #obi-wans next line is basically to point that out

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herstarburststories · 2 years

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Imagine you being the first person Soldier Boy goes after when he breaks out

* soldier boy x reader imagine under the gif :)

What happens when someone has accomplished everything everyone would love to catch a glimpse of?

Booze, drugs, and frivolous sex. Especially when said person is trying to feel like a human again. Especially when said person is seen as above a person, as something (never someone) closer to some kind of ancient god, as an entity.

“Another night,” you let out an empty laugh, observing your reflex on the television staring back at you: not a day older, not a wrinkle, not a grey hair, not an aching bone, no sign of flesh rooting like it should do. Untouchable by the worst creation: time. “Same old me.”

Heroes are just heroes because they don't have time to be anything else. Any other being with spare time would become, well, just like Y/N. A fucking mess surrounded by empty pizza boxes and a TV that speaks louder than any person ever did.

Being a god must be so lonely, you wonder to no other than yourself. It's even more solitary when you're eternal, and everything you've ever loved is temporary.

Drowning in self pity like most days, you sigh and turn on the tv— quickly your reflex was replaced by an equal, which was even more tearfully. Homelander and Starlight putting on a show with pageant smiles and two pairs of eyes reflecting all the violence that humans learned how to adore.

“I can't hide it anymore!” the twisted superman says excitedly, making you arch an eyebrow. “Me and Starlight are together!”

Even though the woman — who leaked innocence and power anytime she popped up on your television — starts the kiss, you can't help but notice the slightly disgust in the corner of her eyes, or the quiet anger on the edge of her mouth.

Women still don't have all the power they should have. You can only hope Starlight be a rebel. She certainly has the bravery to do it. Too used to sit and smile to idiots. Someday they won't even see when she comes for their asses.

Just like you, couple decades back that never look bad on you. Same woman, but with a little more of... Courage? No, not really. Hope. Some more hope that built up courage, isn't it always about this sneaky hope?

But now all your friends are dead and it doesn't matter in the long run. That's the thing about time, in all it's relativeness, surrounding and rushing through people complaining or praising its pace, it tends to show what lingers. Usually not much, mostly memories. They are like a fever that should kill you, but it doesn't have mercy so you remain breathing and suffering with all the reminiscence.

You, a lonesome hero who lives in delusion on old time's memories, the woman who never moves on from her lover's death.

You'd turn off the tv show, but then you'd be alone with yourself in this house haunted by the past. So, let it be it, a whole ass scoop about #Starlander or whatever their name was.

Destiny, orchestrated by a real God who isn't in the tv nor wore a cape, has other plans. As usual.

It doesn't even take a second to discover which ship name the superheroes were using before your door was on the floor with no further warning. Nothing, but a scarlet light strong enough to bend metal. Not a clue but the smell of burning, just like, like...

Mornings, just like morning when he'd try to use his power to cook toasts and accidentally put the kitchen on fire because he was too stubborn not to do it. Or just like the accent of incinerated bodies when he was at war and could hide under the excuse of saving the country to be merciless.

Soldier Boy, your cruel savior. Standing at your door like a mad man.

But, that isn't possible. Soldier Boy was dead. You cried in way too many radio interviews to consider otherwise. You mourned, and everyone made a feast out of that pain. Your teammates disbanded. You kept looking for him for years before accepting that he wasn't here anymore. Everyone applauded his bravery, and then they never talked about him again. Just like any other dead hero.

He couldn't be alive. He can't be alive.

Yet, your mind, always messed up with those hopeful perspectives, whispers to you that there was never a body. It takes and twists the facts into saying, take a other step, he could be there. It makes your head dizzy. It makes you raise and walk towards the entrance with no door. Your calamitous heart is so filled up with hope as his glass used to be with whiskey and his body with drugs, overflowing in every sense. And you feel like a human at the simply chance of seeing the man you loved again. Even though this man was a monster, even when hurt you many times in that rose-colored golden age— the worst pain he ever put you through was dying. Even gods have their addictions, and he was yours.

Your steps are slow, your eyes watching as you pray for him to be seen. Doesn't take long but certainly take much. There, in the midst of brutality, he stands. The man you loved to adore. The hero with a villain mind. Soldier Boy.

Your eyes spark like stars with the tears. All you want to do is come closer, like always. His beard makes him look even older, and his hair is longer than you've ever thought you'd see (he'd probably call it hippie and comments that would be considered.. Well, Twitter certainly wouldn't like it). But his naked body is the same, just like his green eyes, just like his lips. Do they still taste like blood? Does making love to him still like a combat?

You used to believe that living forever was a punishment, but you'd do it all again just to get to this moment.

You study him carefully, trying to convince yourself not even this joy could make up for the fact that he was presumably dead for decades. All the sleepless nights, all the ache, all the torture you put others through to get information to save him, all the love you wasted on strangers to try to get ride off him.

All is washed away when you saw him, but the question was still hanging around in the air: how was he here?

Soldier Boy is quiet, more quiet than he could ever be with his smart mouth. You didn't know how to do this, do act rationally when he was around. This was the man you'd get your hands bloody for. How is there any room left for rationality? And he is there, right in front of you.

Your eyes lock with him like it was the night you two fucked in that Oklahoma jail when he took your virginity. Your body still burning at the idea of coming closer. Your hands shaking in anticipation like it it was the first time he touched you. You just wanted to take him home, you just wanted to kiss him, to spread your legs to him, to let him fuck you until you forget you were anything but his. That same fervor, that same man. When you love forever, you spend most of your time wanting to die. But he was reborn, and suddenly eternity didn't seem like enough. He was back.

You are scared to open your mouth, to say a word and watch him dissipate like a hallucinative smoke. Therefore, you keep quiet to allow your body to speak instead.

You take one step towards him, unsure if he'd throw you across the room with his power or if he'd pull you into a kiss so hard it would make your lips bleed. Who cares? Red was always your very favorite color anyway.

Soldier Boy's chest shines a little, and you're ready to strike back and punch him. But the closer you are, the less his power shines.

You're my Achilles heel. Recall his naked words back then, and how they always came after you sucked his cock or when you dared to leave him. Recall how messed up you two were, but you always came back to each other. Despite all the shit, Soldier was the one who was as fucked up as you were. All that ache and he was still yours, and you were his.

Solder Boy is alive. He's alive!

One step. You were right in front of him.

When he speaks, it's just one word.

“Y/N.”

And you'd burn the whole world for him to say it.

Did you like it? Comment and reblog! It helps me to know you want more The Boys content. Taglist on reblog.

SOLDIER BOY TAGLIST OPEN (SEND ME A DM OR ASK TO BE ADDED)

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boy imagines #the boys x reader #the boys x you #jensen ackles the boys #soldier boy imagines #soldier boy headcanons #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy imagine #jensen ackles imagine #jensen x reader #jensen ackles imagines #soldier boy x super!reader

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breakfastteatime · 1 year

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To Cere’s complete not-surprise, Cal’s asleep not long after she coaxed him into changing out of his icy clothing. He’s burrowed under nearly every blanket left on the ship, hair splayed across his pillow. He's finally lost the ashen, blue-tinted skin tone too, a distinctly pink tone flushing his cheeks. Cere places the back of her hand against his forehead and finds a healthy warmth rather than signs of a fever. She can't contain her relieved sigh.

Stirring under her touch, Cal makes a valiant attempt at waking up. "Cere?"

"Shhhh." She runs a hand through his hair, red strands surprisingly soft between her fingers. "Go back to sleep."

Cal drifts off. Cere leaves him be under BD’s watchful gaze. “If you’re worried, come and get me,” she tells him.

BD whistles and nuzzles closer to Cal, who stirs again, raises an arm for BD to sneak under, and mumbles something unintelligible before settling again. Content to leave them, Cere retreats and heads through the ship.

“So, Bogano?” Greez asks as Cere enters the cockpit.

“Bogano,” she agrees.

Greez glances into the depths of the ship. “Kid asleep?”

“Yes,” Cere says. “BD’s with him. He’s going to need a day or two before he’s ready for Dathomir.” She knows what he said, and believes he’s emotionally ready, but they’d best make sure he’s not suffering any ill effects before he takes on another challenge.

“Great, because I need time to work myself up for Dathomir and its dead witches, and I’m not the one who took a dive in freezing water during a whiteout blizzard.” Greez’s hands fly over the ship’s controls, preparing the jump to hyperspace. “He’s got enough blankets, right? You know the ship runs cold when we’re going full speed and I’m pretty sure he was turning blue before so – ”

“He’s got every blanket except two – yours and mine. He’s dry, wearing warm clothes, and he’s got BD with him. And he's talking in his sleep."

“Okay.” Greez’s shoulders drop down. “Good. I’ll make him some more soup later.”

“Might want to wait until tomorrow,” Cere says. “If we hear a peep out of him tonight, I’ll eat my datapad.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Greez says.

#scratched that write something soft itch!#also i am setting something on ilum to counteract the weather here #star wars jedi: fallen order #jfo headcanon #jfo minific #look i'm not gonna get tired of post-ilum stories anytime soon #cal kestis #cere junda #brb having more parental!cere feels than i know what to do with #greez dritus #bd 1

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ocdeeznut · 4 months

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Commander and his second. (Red and Blue.)

(-A first draft stream of consciousness melancholy fever dream. I have not slept it is 7am.-)

Lance shoulder-checks the door on his late night stumble into the hallway, gasping a yawn into an unfurled hand before elegantly smearing it down his face. Dry skin, tacky eyes, a weakness in his legs. He recalls scraping his alarm clock with his knee, the time reading something completely incomprehensible in Altean. 'Maths is universal' my ass, he muses, puling out his phone and blinking at it headily as he walks. 3:30. Ouch. They're up at 6 for group training, now that Keith is parking his ass in the castle for longer than 60 seconds at a time. He snorts to himself, and briefly wonders if tired-piloting is the same as tired-driving, and if it could land him a fine. He debates slipping down to the hangar, just to sit with bl- red. Red. Right. He's the red paladin now. The right hand. Keith's right hand. He looks down at his phone again, nearly buffing the wall as he rounds a corner, hankering after a good cup of coffee.

What a load of bullshit-

THUNK.

His phone hits the ground before he does, sprawled out atop his own limbs like a baby giraffe in space. And there, towering above him - like he always is - Keith Kogane. Still in his Blade's issued uniform, he reeks of stale blood and B.O. Those dark eyes have the nerve to look pitifully down on his second as he extends a hand. Lance, in what he thinks is appropriate cool-and-smooth fashion, slaps it away, awkwardly cobbling himself back to his feet.

"Keith. Wasn't expecting to see you up this late." Red comments, curtly. "Ditto." The black paladin crows. His voice is creaky, thick with exhaustion. Now that Lance gets a good look at him, he's... lacking fight. Haggard and pale, new cuts and bruises glanced across the scarce amount of skin Lance can see. The red paladin wonders briefly just how many scars Keith is hiding from him, under that sleek black leather. "What time is it?" "Like 3:30-something, last I checked." ".. Fuck." "Don't say 'fuck' Keith, it's crass."

"Fuck, sorry." He is not, arms over his chest, fingers curled against his biceps.

Touché.

"We're up in a few hours, so uh. Get some rest." Keith samples leadership.

"If that was gonna happen, dude, I would not be stood here with you in this dark, dark hallway." Lance spits it back out.

"Right, no. Of course. Do what you have to, and don't be late tomorrow." "Today." Red helpfully supplies. "You're uh, dismissed..?" The subject of said dismissal gawks. "You can't dismiss me from a -hallway- in the ship I sleep in, this isn't a board meeting." Lance grimaces, and steers himself back onto course - the main kitchen. He was getting coffee, Keith or no Keith. Quiet footsteps fall behind him, and then louder ones as the black paladin remembers he doesn't have to hide his presence in the castle. What a strange person he'd become. Their fearless leader, living a life of concealment and solitude. How lonely that must be. He shakes away the sympathy before it makes a home inside him.

The bright lights of the kitchen hurt his eyes, and Lance bemoans such to himself, making every effort to keep his griping from Keith's prying ears. They'd made the tactical discovery recently that the man's hearing was almost twice as effective in range and clarity as the average human's.

Which would be sick, if it wasn't Keith.

But he hears him, like he always does, and stalks off to fix the problem in that begrudging, duty-bound manner that's supposed to make him seem long suffering and martyred. He scans something against the indent below the light fixture, and smacks away at an airborne keypad for a few seconds. The atmosphere around them shifts to an admittedly much more tolerable dim yellow. Lance grumbles his thanks, and Keith just nods his head sluggishly, dead on his feet. "Why don't you take your own advice, hm? Go to bed. We need the black lion operational tomorrow. That can't happen if you're passed out until noon."

"Don't tell me what to do." "I wouldn't have to if you weren't so pig-headed. You're still in uniform, man. You reek." Keith actually has the decency to sniff himself, and Lance bites down on a laugh as he recoils from his own underarm. "Message received. But I'm not tired." "Bullcrap. You look exhausted."

"I am."

And Lance understands what he means. Hell, he's feeling it too. There's this odd collision of interest now, and he goes about making his coffee in silence, with dark eyes watching him from the corner.

He pulls open a stiff drawer at hip-height, crouching down to reach inside for his stash of dark roast coffee - sourced from a space-mall excursion a few months ago. He keeps it sealed in an airtight container, in a paper bag, in the back of the most neutral temp cupboard on deck. It's not great stuff, some cheap American bastardisation of actual dark roast, but it'll do.

"If you're going to stay, please stop staring at me." He pokes his head up and hauls himself back to his feet. Where was that sugar again..-

"Alright."

It's in Keith's hands, apparently.

"How did you-" "Café cubano. You think you're good at hiding the coffee, but it smells strong. I sometimes follow the smell into the kitchen. From there, the awful mess you leave behind makes it pretty easy to guess what you were making. Who takes an espresso pot into space?" "Not me. I had Hunk and Pidge make it for me. It's a lot more advanced than I need it to be. It actually lowers the boiling point of the water, without blanching the coffee's flavour. Might be why the smell is so strong, though."

Lance chooses to rise above the slight on his cleanliness.

"Huh. Go Hunk and Pidge."

"Seriously. Genius freaks, the both of them."

Red smiles.

Lance sets his whisk down, and pours off the dark coffee from the jug in his left hand, sending azuquita frothing and bubbling to the top of the pot. It floats, sweet and bitter, as he transfers it to an oddly shaped Altean mug, and takes a sip. It's boiling, and it burns, but it's good.

Just like Keith had described, there are spoons and whisks and bowls and dustings of sugar and coffee grounds strewn across the tabletop, and the Red paladin flusters as Black swoops in to clean. Something about this felt entirely too personal, domestic. Like they weren't fighting a war. Like they weren't fighting eachother. He scoops up his mug, and turns heel. "I'm going to the bridge."

Keith is silent except for a hum of acknowledgement.

Loud footsteps approach him again, hunched over himself, hair fluttering from his eyes with each heavy breath. His coffee still half-drank, to be savoured. He preferred to finish his drinks in company, but it wasn't like he'd been expecting Keith to follow him.

So why he isn't at all surprised when Keith slumps down beside him is anyone's guess.

The stars are, well, about as starry as usual. The air is a comfortable degree and the floor hums quietly as the belly of the metal beast around them croaks and groans, driving them through empty space.

Keith is looking at him, and the mess of his hair, those dark, impossibly bright eyes... it all feels so Keith. He smells a little better, and he's back in his usual t-shirt and jeans, jacket forgone for informality's sake. For just a moment, Lance can pretend it'll be Shiro waking them both up tomorrow. As equals, tired and late to dash into the hangar. Keeping score, neck and neck.

"Your coffee's gonna go cold." Keith snips at the silence.

"Oh, so what I'm hearing is that you wanna make the trek back to the kitchen to reheat it for me?" "Shut up.. You wouldn't drink it even if I did." "You're probably right, Mullet."

Lance pauses for a moment.

"Why'd you come down here?" "Why haven't you told me to fuck off yet?" "Not sure." "Ditto." Touché. Again. Conversation starts to feel a little easier now.

"Fuck man. This is so bad. We're in for it tomorrow. We quite literally will not have our head screwed on straight." Lance laughs at his own joke, swiping a hand through his hair and leaning back on an open palm.

Keith laughs too, rolling his eyes up into those remarkable bangs.

"Not to mention we'll be keeping the rest of the team at -arm's length-'."

Keith's turn to laugh at his own joke, while lance digs his fist into the other man's shoulder. "Boo! That was lame. You're lame, Kogane. Lame Kogane is what I'm calling you now." "How will I ever recover." "Try and sound a little hurt."

They're both laughing now. "No- no, really, I'm slighted." "You sound like you're reading the fucking weather forecast!" "You said fuck!" "Fuck off!" "Hah! Said it again."

And there it is. The film that keeps them bound by duty is broken, and they come undone into something far deeper than 1st and 2nd.

Blue bites and red bites back harder, but they never break the skin.

They're on their feet now, dancing around the deck under the intimate gaze of a hundred-thousand burning stars. Surrounded by life, yet completely and totally alone.

"I'm not drinking that-! Lance, I'm serious- Lance!" Red warns, hands extended to keep Blue at arm's length. (He'd appreciate the call-back.) But Lance, brandishing cold coffee and an impish grin, is quicker, and likes to watch the impenetrable fortress that is Keith Kogane crumble. He vaults the central control panel, to Keith's shrieking horror, and manages to dump half the remaining cup down the back of the other's shirt. It elicits another delightful shrill from Red, as he wrestles with his own skin in an attempt to flee the sensation. Lance swears that for a moment, there's something glinting yellow in Keith's eyes. He bares his teeth and grunts in a way that is decidedly inhuman.

It should scare him, but it only excites him, fills his blood with ice-hot curiosity, intrigue that borders on an inescapable infatuation. SO much about Keith that he didn't know. So much that he wanted to find out.

"Sorry!"

He wanes, half-heartedly, still in fits of laughter as Kogane manages to wrest his shirt off, wearing a flimsy navy tank underneath. He'd have preferred red, but space makes fashion a slim-pickings ordeal. Lance finds it brings out his eyes.

Somewhere along the way, they ended up like this. Lance shifts his arm from where it's pinned under Keith's head to check the hour. 5:30. They're running out of time. Red and Blue will be packaged up neatly again, and in thirty minutes Black and Red will take the helm and shoulder of a beast they have no business knowing how to fly.

Lance aches, body and mind. They're sprawled out in Allura's holodeck, heads side by side as they stare up at a night sky so very different to the ones they see from the castle. It's earth, just a few miles south of the Garrison. A cliffside overlooks the desert, and Blue can almost feel the dust under his fingers, sweeping through Keith's hair as it ruffles against his cheekbones.

Blue pulls red just a little bit closer.

Just twenty minutes more.

Neither of them are ready to lead.

Chiselled soldiers made of hollow glass. Lacking experience, robbed of simple youth.

They are driven by duty. It pumps their lungs like great bellows, keeps their legs moving when their hearts have stopped.

Ten more minutes.

Lance feels his eyes slip shut, damp and tired. He curls into red and lets himself dream for a few minutes more.

#vld lance #voltron #odesrambles #keith voltron #lance mcclain #voltron legendary defender #voltron fanfic #klance

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 2 months

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<<Previous Chapter <<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: Will Izzy's guilt continue to drive him away from being by your side or will he finally accept the light and free himself from the brewing darkness within?

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who voted. I hope this is everything you want! This chapter follows the events of the Bonus Anti-Hero chapter, so if you haven't read it, you can follow the 'previous chapter' link above.

Content Warning: Knives, mention of injuries, trauma, vomiting, mentions of drowning, blood, begging for death and angst. I think that's everything. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

=============================

"I can't do this, Captain." you admitted through gritted teeth, as you leaned heavily onto the bucket you cradled between your legs.

You were in Hell. Actually Hell. So sure you had died upon the treacherous waves and were now bring subjected to the worst of tortures. Perhaps that was why you were yet to see Izzy yet. Despite his own harsh opinions of himself, you truly believed that Israel Hands was a good man. Maybe even one of the best you had had the good fortune of meeting, during your travels across the seven seas. No, someone as loyal- albeit, sometimes misguided and stubborn in their decisions- would be in Hell alongside you.

The co-captain could tell you were struggling and damn it, he felt completely powerless to ease your suffering. He himself was no stranger to infected wounds and all the delightful symptoms that entailed. The fever, the shivers, the nausea- all played a part in the general unpleasantness that came with an injury. "You have to, okay? I know you want to give up right now but you can't. Just be brave for me a little bit longer, yeah?" not a wordsmith by nature, he was doing his best to comfort you. Was that not what Edward had always craved when he had fallen ill on Hornigold's ship? Just someone to hold his hand and tell him it was going to be alright. Such a simple request that had been denied to him time and time again. Of course, then he had met Izzy but that was a walk down memory lane for another time. "That's it, there you go. You're okay." the small circles he rubbed into your back, were most welcome, while to once again coughed your guts up into the bucket. "What's the diagnosis, doc?" Edward focused his attention upon the other man present in the room.

"The wounds infected. Looks like there's pus gathering. Probably going to have to drain it. Truthfully," there was a pause as the medical professional chose his words carefully. "things are going to get a lot worse before it gets better." he had seen wounds worse than the one inflicted upon your body. Though certain you would live to see your next voyage, the gentleman was still exercising extreme caution when it came to treating you. One small mistake or negligence on his part and it would be lights out for you. "I'm also concerned about the fever and vomiting but let's focus on one thing at a time."

"Captain, it'd be quicker just run me through with a sword."

"And probably less painful." the doctor joked, hoping to add some lightness to the dire situation but his quip did not garner the jovial response he had been hoping for. Instead, Ed glared daggers at him. Oh, if looks could kill, the sliver of a men would have been dead a thousand times over. "Ahem, anyway. I'll go an prepare my tools. I won't be long." he excused himself, wanting to make a hasty retreat. Ed's reputation preceeded him and the doctor just prayed that he made it out of this house all with all of his bones intact and fingers still attached to his body.

Upon his exit, you heard a murmured exchange between him and another in the hallway but your focus was on the raging fire that engulfed your entire being and the churning in your stomach, that threatened to provoke another round of coughing up your guts.

"How're ya hanging in there, kid?" though his words were good-humoured, there was a undeniable tenderness in your Captain's actions, as he brought a cool wash cloth to your fash, washing away any rogue spittle from around your mouth. It felt almost perverse to have the legendary Blackbeard dote upon you in your time of need but hey, you were not going to start counting chickens. You were just grateful to be a part of a misfit crew, who cared about one another and that you could call family.

"Just fucking kill me already, Captain." you all but begged, already struggling under the immense physical exertions of your current symptoms. Though not known to be a coward by nature, you were fully prepared to be removed from the rotation of existence, if it meant forgoing the experience of more afflictions upon your persons.

Oh, how the pirate knew the wanting of death well. How many times had he begged Izzy to out him out of his misery, during their time together on the Queen Anne? Hell, Ed had literally handed the First Mate a gun and giaded the man to shoot him right there and then, when he had been in the wicked grasps of the Kraken. "Mmm, can't do that. Sorry." he replied almost playfully, trying to lighten the mood slightly, as he aimed to pull your thought process away from such dark desires.

"Fuck you, then. I guess." you grumbled miserably, wondering if Izzy had been by your side, would he have relented to your request? Perhaps if you annoyed him enough, he may have run you through with his sword.

"You heard the doc, it'll 'get worse before it gets better'. Just gotta weather this storm and then it'll be...fuck, what's the metaphor Stede uses? Oh, yeah! Sunny skies!"

"Yeah, no offence but Captain Stede isn't the one who's about to have his arm fucking-"

====

"Drained? Oh...that doesn't sound very pleasant." Stede grimaced, nose and mouth scruching in that irritating way, that never failed to irk the First Mate, whom stood diligently beside him.

"It's not. It's incredibly painful. I'll try and administer some kind of mild sedative to help lower the pain levels but really, some decent rum will probably take the edge off better." the doctor further explained, his gaze shifting between the two men. There was something incredibly unnerving about the way the silver-haired pirate continued to stare daggers at him. What was it with this crew and having murderous expressions?

"Izzy's got a bottle of rum. Haven't you, Iz? It looked unopened too, right?" of course Stede fucking Bonnet had noticed such a minor detail. Man was a total idiot when it came to things about piracy but give him a brief insight into your lodgings and suddenly, the twat had a photographic memory. Upon hearing the doctor's prognosis, Izzy wished he was black out drunk right about now.

This was his fault. Everything you were about to experience. Every second of pain, any blood you had needlessly shed, whatever horrors you were about to face at the hands of this twatty doctor- it was all Izzy's fault, he decided.

"Get the patient to drink some. In the meantime, I'm going to go and prepare my tools and-"

"(Y/N)." Izzy's sharp tone cut across the doctor's explanation like the knife he was about to go sterilise.

"Pardon?"

Stede almost smirked at the unwarranted hostility. Izzy might have thought his was covert in concealing his feelings for you, but in reality, the man was an open book. Who else would the silver-haired pirate borderline snarl a warning at for forgoing the usage of someone's name? Well, that just proved that you were not a mere 'someone' to the First Mate.

"Their name is (Y/N), not 'patient'."

====

"Hey...hey, C-Captain?" you gasped between another round of vomiting. How was it even still possible for you to be emptying the contents of your stomach? Surely, there was nothing left to generate into...

Edward winced as you bent over the bucket once more, this time merely dry heaving. A sheen of sweat covered your body and soaked through your flimsy shirt and linen trousers- all hand-me-downs from the crew, after you had already perspired through your own attire. Though you felt warm to the touch, you shivered as if you were made of ice. In conclusion, you looked like shit. "Yeah, kid?"

Under normal circumstances, you would have been hesitant to make any kind of request to the Captain but desperate times called for desperate measures. Having been stripped of your pride and dignity, you had no inhibitions when you beseeched the silver-haired pirate to fulfil your only desire. "Can...can you get Izzy, please? I..."

====

"I'm not going." it had to be said that Israel Hands was many things but never would have Stede labelled the great swordsman to be a coward, especially when it came to matters involving you. Sure, he often- okay, always- shied away from divulging his true feelings to you but that did not make him a coward, so to speak. The co-captain understood how difficult it was to admit your innermost desires to the one you so adored. Goodness knew he had literally fled back to his wife and kids, just to hide away from how he truly felt about one, Edward "Blackbeard" Teach.

However, repressed feelings or not, there was absolutely no need for Izzy to be digging in his heels now. Especially when Stede had asked the silver-haired pirate so nicely to accompany him to your room. "Oh really? And why's that exactly?" he huffed. Whatever the excuse, Stede was not going to let Izzy off the hook so easily. His presence was required and by he'll or by highwater, Stede was going to deliver the First Mate to your bedside. Maybe he could ask Fang to carry Izzy down the hallway?

Even Izzy had to admit, his wanting to remain locked away in his lodgings was a weak excuse at best. Truthfully, he had no real reason for wanting to stay away, other than to wallow in his own brooding. The guilt of knowing that your injuries were the culmination of his past actions and the ill-judged decisions during the storm, was eating away at him. Carving a hollowed space within his chest, where the darkness liked to dwell. That obsidian black, bitter thing. Nothing good was ever born from that corrupted gloom. With each passing moment, it threatened to consume him in his entirety and honestly? Izzy was more than ready to embrace the darkness. When had men like him ever been able to freely enjoy the light? The warmth of innocence was for people like yourself. Fundamentally good and beautifully flawed, not jaded and wicked as him. He had fed another's darkness once, it was time to nurture his own.

Knowing you were alive was enough for Izzy. To see you suffering from the aftermath of your knife wound was a sight he did not need to witness. The image would surely become seared into his retinas. "What use am I going to be, Bonnet? Do I look like a fucking doctor to you?"

There was some truth to his words. What was the point exactly of him playing witness to your agony? He could hardly relieve you of whatever symptoms plagued at current and let's face it, Izzy was not exactly known to be the most...in tune with his feelings. If it was comfort you needed, you were better off with someone like Stede fucking Bonnet or even Fang. Gods, Fang knew how to comfort a person like it was nobody's business. Had the pirate not been the one to hold Izzy in his time of vulnerability? And if Frenchie had not been fighting for his life in the room adjacent to yours, well, he would surely have been first in line to offer a hand to hold.

At the vocalisation of the First Mate's harsh response, Stede's facial expression soften ever so slightly. Maybe that was it, then. He concluded, realising that Izzy's reluctance to be by your side, steamed from his inability to provide you with the level of care he believed you needed. No, deserved. The silver-haired pirate was so overly critical of his own skillset that, he truly did not see all that he could offer to the situation. Give the man a sword and he became a soldier. Ask him to be in attend the bedside of the person he loved most? The man was a bloody mouse.

And it was not as if the feelings were not reciprocated! You were so clearly besotted with the man too. In fact, Stede was in no doubt that Izzy's companionship alone, would bring some joy to your otherwise currently very bleak existence. Perhaps a smile would even be on the cards, if only he could just find a way to lure Izzy down the hallway.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. "FANG!" the Gentleman Pirate called out, much to the confusion of the First Mate. What on earth was he up to now?

====

"Okay, okay, try not to talk, yeah? I hear you, kid. Loud and clear. If it's Iz you want-" a knock at the door interrupted Ed's assurance. Hell, the co-captain was prepared to drag the First Mate by the scruff of his neck if he had to. Anything to get him to darken your door way and finally put an end to his unceasing cycle of guilt. "come in!" his focus was torn away from whoever tentatively opened the door, as your body was wracked with another gagging fit.

The circles rubbing your back in soothing circles faltered momentarily and you found yourself craving the comforting gesture. "Can...can you just get him, please?" you cried, tears streaming down your face, as you sobbed. Damn it, Israel Hands, why were you always so far out of reach, you thought, anguished. "I don't-I don't think I can do this without him. I need him. I fucking need him like I need oxygen. It's easier to breathe when he's around." you doubted your words made any sense but still, you rambled on. Needing Ed to understand just how serious you were in your appeal. If you could have left the room and retrieved the First Mate yourself, you woukd have been down that hallway in a blink of an eye but you were now reliant on the goodwill of another. "He's my Stede." you murmured, hoping the comparison would truly articulate just how important Izzy was to you. "He's my lighthouse. So, please. Please just go get him. Even if he doesnt want to see me. Even if he thinks it's pathetic how much I need him, just go get him. Can you do that, Cap-" you lifted your gaze to finally face your Captain but gone were the familiar brown eyes. Instead, replaced with cerulean blue. A oceanic gaze you had wished to drown in a thousand times over. "Izzy." you murmured between sniffles.

Countless nights had been whiled away, as you fantasised about the seemingly unobtainable opportunity to share a bed with one, Israel Hands. The scenario and setting had always changed depending on your nocturnal preference, but one element was always certain- the First Mate of the Revenge was always, always your bedfellow. Just how Not Safe For Ship the daydream was, depended purely upon how riled up the mere sight of the silver-haired pirate had made you feel throughout your morning duties. Oh Calypso, the things you had imagined doing to that man. Never had you imagined him sitting beside you, playing nurse while you were plagued with fever.

However, there was absolutely nothing alluring or desirable about your current predicament. His hands may have been upon you, but there were no burning touches that sparked a flame of yearning. The only rising temperature was your fever, which continued to climb in numbers and refused to break any time soon. Gods, you felt disgusting. Absolutely putrid. Down right dreadful. To add salt to injury, you looked equally wonderful, too. There was a delightful touch of corpse about your appearance.

You did not have much time to dedicate to your self-deprecating thoughts, as you felt another unpleasant wave of nausea take hold of your senses, forcing you to heave whatever was left within the containment of your stomach. Long gone was the clear broth and crackers. There was no sipped at water left in your system. Hell, even the bile seemed to be running thin now. Soon, you would be gagging on nothing but air and your own tears.

Still, the hand rubbing your back was nice at least.

The wretching gave away to exhaustion. With your body unable to expell any further contents from your stomach, you indulged yourself a little and leaned into your companion's hold. "You're here." you breathed incredulously and despite the agony and torment, you smiled for the first time in...goodness, how many days had you even been occupying the inn? Keeping time had seemed so irrelevant in the grand scheme of simply trying to survive. Nonetheless, you smiled at the pirate. Genuinely thankful that he was now with you. Your beacon of hope, of light. Here to guide you through your darkest hour.

"I..." though being by your side felt as natural as breathing, the truth was a little less romantic. In failing to drag the First Mate to your room himself, Stede fucking Bonnet had enlisted the help of Fang, whom had- quite unceremoniously- carried Izzy down th hallway. All while that twat of a Captain had demanded that the First Mate stop being so stubborn and for once in his life, listen to his heart instead of his head.

Seeing you now, a former shadow of your usually vibrant self, was a difficult sight to process. He had been correct in his earlier reluctance, the image of your chapped, bloody lips and bruised eyes would surely haunt him every time he closed his eyes.

Upon hearing your heartfelt admission, Izzy's mind was in a tailspin. His insticts were telling him to flee, that he should not have been here but maybe, by your beside was the only place for him to be right now. No, Izzy knew in his heart of hearts that, he should have been by your side sooner. Much, much sooner. Except extreme guilt had kept him away. That same guilt was still present, gnawing away at his subconscious like a fiendish creature of insatiable appetites. However, upon hearing you say you needed him- you needed him!- the man had experienced a perspective shift. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting."

"It's okay." you smiled at him. Genuinely smiled at him. There was not disappointment in resent in you tone. Just pure relief that he had finally made it way to your side. Bless the gods, for answering your prayers. The road ahead was going to be one full of pain and distress but with Izzy holding your hand, maybe- just maybe- you would be able to weather the storm and survive long enough to witness those 'sunny skies'. "Just don't leave me again this time, yeah?"

As much as Izzy wanted to address your labelling of him as your 'Stede', the pirate rationalised that there were more important matters at hand. For starters, he realised it would be more productive to seek atonement for his sins, rather than allow himself to be consumed by the darkness, that threatened to drag him down into a never-ending spiral of despair. After all, how could he possibly deny such a heartfelt request from the one he was now eternally indebted to. Gods, you had called him a 'lighthouse', for fucks sake. You bewitching creature, you. In that moment, the First Mate knew, he would follow you to end of the earth, should you ask him so.

He loved you. He loved you, he loved you, he loved you!

The past was unchangeable but Izzy did have some say on how the future could play out. You had needed him that night on the ship and you needed him now. Like hell was he going to let you down a second time. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

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thesilversun · 5 months

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For the wip title game, can you spill sometjing about 'sea in storm'?

This is, as much of what I write, a canon divergent AU.

DFS and LXY are fighting on the ship right at the start, they get to the point where dfs has pinned lxy to the deck with his sword in his shoulder and dfs is telling to admit defeat.

lxy tries to use his yangzhouman to free himself, but the bicha poison flares up for the first time, and he can't. He accuses dfs of poisoning him - he doesn't know what poison is, but he knows it's bad.

dfs denies it, denies knowing anything about sgd's death either. lxy doesn't believe him. If he's going to die he's taking dfs with him - he'll avenge sgd and himself. Can't reach his sword, grabs a jagged, broken peice of timber from the deck beside and stabs dfs in the stomach and then passes out from the poison.

dfs is angry, in pain and he can see on the distant shore the attack against the Sigu sect - an attack he had never ordered or wanted.

Someone has set them up and used them both. Someone has used him, made him their weapon. Again. He's absolutely furious. He's going to find out who dared do this and kill them.

First he...no, they, need to survive. he needs lxy to know that he fights fair. Dfs is barely on his feet, but he manages to get him and lxy into the small boat lxy had arrived in.

They huddle together in it, lxy barely conscious, both soaking wet, freezing and bleeding, the stormy sea threatening to drown them both. finally the boat washes up on the beach, the storm has lessened, the moon is visible through the racing clouds.

Wuyan finds them, assist them to get to Medicine Demon. It's early enough in the poisoning he can do something, but it's likely to permanently damage lxy's energy. Dfs says save him, they can fix anything else later.

Anything else include himself, as dfs tells Medicine Demon that his only priority is lxy. Which means by the time lxy is something like conscious and not actively dying - although still feeling absolutely awful - dfs is suffering - there are wooden splinters still stuck inside him from the piece of timber he was stabbed with.

He sees wuyan being as gentle with dfs as he can, while he holds him down, so medicine demon can open up the wound and remove the wooden fragments that have cause it to become infected. He sees dfs caught in horrible fever driven nightmares and learns for the first time of the Di Fortress.

Lxy is still too sick and weak to manage to walk more than a few steps, but his mind is clear. He runs over everything, he talks to Wuyan. comes to the same conclusion as dfs - that they have been set up. He still gets wanmian's letter and the news that so many of the sigu sect have died.

dfs and lxy slowly recuperating, trying to work out who could have set them up. They will have to play a long game for now.

Not sure where I'll take it after that point - perhaps it doesn't need more.

Also not sure when I'll get round to writting all of that up as a full fic, I've go so many that I'm working on.

#wip meme answer #fic idea #mysterious lotus casebook

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theflowerofhumanity · 1 year

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Familiar

multirptrash:

Uhura didn’t know what her relationship with the captain was in this strange world, but frankly, she didn’t care - everyone here was soft and weak, and even if she wasn’t in a sexual relationship with Jim, she doubted she would really suffer for guessing wrong.

Still, she checked that the halls were clear before stepping over to his room…of course she knew his password to get in, but was it the same here? She shrugged and punched it in…and was immediately let through, and she smirked to herself. No longer in her uniform with the long sleeves but still irrationally short skirt, but in a light blue nightgown, Nyota stepped through into the dark.

Her chest ached a little as she saw him…he looked miserable and in fact pretty sick, but he was also without a shirt, and she was glad to see that this Jim still kept himself in shape.

When the captain heard the soft beep of his door, followed by the sound of it hissing open and closed, he wasn’t sure if he had finally dozed and was dreaming, or if he was imagining things, or... He blinked into the darkness of his cabin and sat up in bed again, trying to peer through the screen that separated the bed from the rest of the room. It looked like a woman standing there. His first thought, even in this quasi-dreaming state, was that something was wrong on the ship. If only he didn’t feel so...lousy!

“Is somebody there?” he asked in a sleepy mumble. If this was a crewmen and not a dream, he couldn’t make out her face even as she came to stand closer to his bed. His whole body was still covered with a light sheen of sweat, and his hazel eyes were fever-bright even in the shadowy room.

#familiar #it was driving me bonkers so I just started another in hopes that it will let me edit properly lolol

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meidui · 4 months

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steve whump for @steverogersbingo 😋

“No,” Steve begs again, his voice grinding in Tony’s ears. “Don’t let them, Tony!” He’s breaking Tony’s heart, the way he’s desperately seeking an ally in him, delirious from his fever and begging to be spared from some suffering, but they have done everything else they could and none of it has made a dent in this murderous fever. There’s a reason they waited until they exhausted every single one of their other options before bringing up an ice bath: they all knew what this would do to Steve. They knew what they would be putting him through, but this is the last and only resort. It’s this or risk letting the next eight hours take his life.

Rating: T

Word count: 2.4k

Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Major tags: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional tags: Fever, Hurt Steve Rogers, Sick Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Whump, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Tony Stark, Protective Avengers, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together

#stony #stevetony #steve rogers bingo #*

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gumnut-logic · 5 months

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Because it is that time of the year again, I just can't help myself :D

-o-o-o-

Looking back, it really could have happened to any of them. Hell, now it had happened once, it was even more likely it could happen to any of the rest of them, but of course it had to be Virgil and, of course, it had to happen a week before Christmas.

Fortunately, not only Gordon and Alan, but also John was aboard Thunderbird Two when her pilot folded in half with a groan. The great green behemoth responded to his touch and for a second there, the whole ship tipped sideways.

Alan lost his hard-earned sandwich, and Gordon, who had been half asleep in the co-pilot’s chair, despite the coffee he had consumed not five minutes ago, received an adrenalin spike that was well used in the next half an hour or so.

It had been a hard week. Australia was on fire. Every year the drought dried continent suffered and every year International Rescue did all it could to help. Brains had even designed some specialised equipment, deployed through Tracy Industries to help dampen the eucalypt fuel load, but the change of climate over the last hundred odd years had done its damage and the ecosystem suffered for it.

It was painful to watch.

And tiring to fight.

John had taken to coming down not only for Christmas, but for the fires. He had developed a communications network, tied into TB5, to help coordinate the fire services of the country and pin point the hot spots. At the end of the last outbreak, Gordon had been gobsmacked to find his usually reclusive brother sprawled in a chair beside the Australian Fire Defense Network chief, beer in hand, swapping stories.

It had helped that the chief was the middle of five himself and a communications specialist pushed into management. There was much commiseration.

But none of the past really foretold this little hiccup.

Later when Gordon referred to said incident as a ‘hiccup’, Virgil’s eyebrows had frowned so much, they’d physically climbed off his head and slapped Gordon around his.

Or it could have been Virgil’s hand. Gordon was too busy ducking to really identify the body parts his brother was using.

So, with three brothers aboard, Virgil had plenty of back up.

Gordon was fully awake and stabilising Two before he had even had a chance to draw in a breath. They were halfway across the Tasman Sea, finally on the way home for a well-deserved break.

“Virgil?” John was out of his seat and moving towards the pilot.

“Uh, I’m okay.” The man straightened, still in his silver firefighting suit, minus the helmet. A quick look in his brother’s direction and Gordon could see it was all a lie. Even through the soot on Virgil’s face, his brother’s complexion was pale, almost green. “Just a stitch.”

“Doesn’t look like one from here, bro.” Gordon frowned as John gently nudged Virgil back in his seat. The pilot closed his eyes and lay back, his shoulders dropping just a little. John reached over to the console and flicked a couple of switches. Virgil’s vitals sprang up in all their holographic glory.

Even Gordon could see something was seriously wrong. “You have a fever. What the hell, Virg?”

His brother stared at his stats and frowned. “Just thought I was hot.”

No surprise considering the conditions they were working in.

John sighed. “Your suit has active refrigeration, Virgil, you know that. You should be the coolest of all of us.”

If it had been a different situation, Gordon would have then started a ‘discussion’ on who exactly was the coolest or the hottest of the brothers. As it was, another groan from his engineer brother killed all conversation other than medical concern.

“What is it?” John disengaged Virgil’s seat from the dash, pulling it back and giving him access to his older brother.

“My side.” Virgil’s eyes were squeezed shut.

His lower right side.

Five minutes later and Gordon was beelining Two to the nearest hospital, which turned out to be Auckland near the northern tip of New Zealand.

Less than an hour later, Virgil had his very angry appendix removed.

Of all things.

For the past three days, it had been a mixture of firefly pod and fire exo-suit. His brother had been tossing about massive hoses, shifting huge amounts of timber, excavating firebreaks and water bombing from Two.

Apparently, all while suffering from appendicitis.

When Scott arrived on scene, he was a walking facepalm.

When Virgil woke up, it was all kind words for the first hour or so while he recovered from the anaesthetic, but after that, the tongue lashing Scott delivered was enough to strip the paint off the walls of Virgil’s hospital room.

Grandma ended up dragging the man from the room.

Everyone was quiet after that.

No one liked it when Scott got scared.

Least of all Scott.

But even Gordon had to agree that his eldest brother had a point. Appendicitis wasn’t something that didn’t come with symptoms. Virgil admitted that he had noted some pain, but he had been busy. There had been more important things.

Scott’s response to that was only suitable for mature audiences.

Gordon couldn’t help but agree after having to watch his brother writhe in pain on one of his own hover stretchers while they had been on approach to Auckland.

But it had happened when it had happened and everyone was safe, Virgil included. There were much worse scenarios available considering their occupations and the entire family was grateful it had turned out best it could.

Scott was still livid, though, likely because the man was exhausted. They were all exhausted.

Grandma eyed all of them in turn, cornering each of them in their hotel rooms. It didn’t take her more than half a day to conclude that International Rescue needed a well-earned break. Virgil’s illness made a great excuse and her meeting with Scott was short, sharp and to the point.

The Commander of International Rescue contacted the GDF not long after, advising their aunt that their organisation would not be available for the next week. Eos was tasked with redirecting emergency calls after Grandma grabbed John by the scruff of his neck and with an equally sharp word in his ear, grounded the spaceman beside his brothers.

Virgil received a few glares, but the tired man just rolled over awkwardly and went back to sleep. Apparently, he agreed with Grandma.

Always did, the big Grandma softie.

Except perhaps with her cooking, but that led Virgil to being the biggest victim in that department because despite his incapacity to lie, he would do anything for the woman.

Virgil was released from the hospital a day after his surgery and they helped him back to their hotel rooms and set him up with the holoprojector and an appropriate stash of snacks and engineering journals. Kayo even bought him a sketchbook and an array of art materials.

For two days, the brothers hung out with him or darted out to the shops for convenience’s sake. Copious amounts of takeout were consumed, a treat they were often denied on the Island. But ultimately five usually very active men got very bored very quickly.

They couldn’t go home, because Virgil wasn’t allowed to fly. His operation excluded air travel for at least seven days, which meant, to add insult to injury, they would be stuck on the mainland for Christmas Day.

Their first Christmas off in who knew how many years, and they couldn’t even share it at home.

John distracted himself by linking in with Eos and helping out with emergency calls...until Grandma discovered him and rounded on both him and Eos with the ire Scott had managed to inherit.

Both father and daughter behaved after that, Eos a little stunned at the power of the eldest Tracy.

Alan dove into his computer games and hermitized. Gordon could only swim so much, so resorted to pranking Alan, which ended up in the brawl of the century and half the penthouse draped in toilet paper.

Scott turned to Tracy Industries and began phone calls that lasted hours. Virgil sent Gordon to chase him down.

Scott quite frankly ignored him, which led to Virgil hauling himself off the couch and doing the chasing himself.

That led to a screaming match that ended with both men pale when Virgil twisted angrily and groaned as he pulled at his stitches.

The atmosphere plummeted after that and the whole penthouse floor deteriorated into a sullen gloom.

It was shaping up to be an ass of a Christmas.

Until Gordon had an idea.

-o-o-o-

We'll be Home For Christmas

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #kermadec au #my longest fic #and special to me for many reasons

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tigirl-and-co · 5 months

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The Heart Lies Behind the Ribs

Hiiiiii everybody it is Yamgeta week, as decided by @dballzposting! I had considered this ship maybe once back in like 2014 and then never thought about it again. But god knows I'm such a sucker for this type of stuff, so I wrote a fic! Yippie!

This is assuming a pre-established relationship! I don't know how to write build-up, so you get a fic set in the stages of a relationship after they've already moved in together and have been together for quite some time.

Proofread, but still technically a first draft. Apologies for the clunkiness, but I wrote it in a fever pitch after being beset by the idea literally before I got out of bed.

Please enjoy!

The Heart Lies Behind the Ribs

"Get up."

Yamcha had been relaxing on his couch, watching Dirty Jobs and scratching Puar around the base of his neck while he napped on the man's lap. He craned his neck to look behind him at Vegeta, the man who issued the command.

Gently moving Puar off his lap, Yamcha stood up and stretched. At least four vertebrae popped. As he looked over at Vegeta, he realized the shorter man had his armor on. Historically? Not a great sign...

"What's up, man?" Yamcha had learned that it was better not to try to lead Vegeta in a conversation; he'd say what he wanted to say with or without his prompting. And to be honest, he didn't want to bring up the armor, just in case. Being able to play at naïvety hadn't worked yet, but it was bound to someday!

Vegeta fixed him in an icy glare, which stopped affecting Yamcha after he realized that's just how the man's face looked normally. "Go put your gi on and meet me outside."

"Wh-Huh?" Yamcha wasn't stupid. Yamcha knew that all this meant Vegeta wanted to spar. Yamcha didn't want to have his entire ass caved in by his superpowered boyfriend.

Or, at least, not on the battlefield.

He rubbed the back of his head in the way he knew Vegeta found cute. Maybe if he was cute enough he could avoid his fate. "Vegeta, I really don't think you'll get much out of training with me! You're like wayyyyy above me, y'know?"

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose in a face that once terrified Yamcha, but that he now found pretty cute. It meant Vegeta was trying really hard not to show what he was feeling.

"Tch. Idiot. Flattery will get you nowhere." He crossed his arms. "Besides, this is for your benefit. I'm sick and tired of you being unable to defend yourself!"

Instinctively, Yamcha put his arms out in a defensive/placating gesture. "I mean, I'm still stronger than most of what hangs around on earth... Unless more aliens show up I'm safe, and if more do show up, it's not like I'll be useful."

Vegeta immediately scowled, hard, looking almost as fearsome as the first day they met and startling Yamcha. "That's exactly the kind of attitude that got you killed by a damn saibaman! I refuse to suffer a mate so weak any longer! Go get your gi on, and meet me outside."

Vegeta stormed out the front door, and Yamcha could sense him standing a ways away from the house.

Suddenly, a small voice piped up from behind Yamcha. "I'm glad he's not evil anymore, but Vegeta can still be really scary when he's mad!" Puar had apparently woken up from all the racket and stuck his head just above the back of the couch. Cute.

Yamcha let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Yeah... But it's kind of nice, I guess. To have somebody actually worried about me like that." He let out a little signature 'Heh.'

Puar gave him a look that managed to mix both fondness and exasperation. "Hey, what about me? I care about you, Yamcha!" He smiled wider. "Anyway, you should probably go do what he says, he seemed really serious this time!"

Yamcha smiled back. "Yeah, you're right. Besides, I could use the exercise! A little training never hurt anyone."

"With Vegeta?"

"Hm. Yeah, true."

And with that, Yamcha shrugged and headed to his room to change. His gi was folded neatly into a drawer, at Vegeta's insistence. He hated mess, Yamcha had found out. He felt it was important to know where everything is, in case of emergency.

~~~

Yamcha stepped outside, tightening his belt. Vegeta was waiting back near the tree line, arms folded and as neutral an expression as the man ever gave.

"Hmph. Good of you to finally try training for once, Animal." It was a nickname Yamcha didn't care for at first, but over time he realized Vegeta meant it in a half demeaning, half complimentary sort of way. The same way he gave every compliment.

Sure it originally started as just another way to call him a lower lifeform and mock him for the wolf theming, but over time it morphed into a somewhat endearing term. Yamcha had heard Goten call people who were doing really well 'beasts' on occasion, and he figured it was probably the same sort of concept. Wild and cool. Untameable.

"I thought you might just crawl back into your den and wait out the storm," he egged on further.

Yamcha smiled back at his partner. "And lose out on one-on-one time with His Royal Highness? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

This drew a snort and a smug grin from the alien. The promise of training always brightened his mood, and his outburst from earlier was already fading away. "Always with the flattery..." Vegeta moved his feet into proper fighting position, striking a pose that showed him for the ambush predator he was. "It's not going to make me go any easier on you, you know!"

Yamcha braced himself, both physically for Vegeta's first attack and mentally for the hours of this ass beating he was going to have to endure. "Ha! Bring it on, you pampered prince!"

Oh, the things he does for love.

Surprisingly, the first two hours went pretty well! Vegeta allowed Yamcha to get a few good hits in, never dishing out more than Yamcha could handle. There was plenty of stopping so that Vegeta could demonstrate something, and then Yamcha could try it out.

Then it happened.

A kick delivered at just the wrong angle and at just the wrong place and with just the wrong amount of force snapped Yamcha's lower left rib.

He went down.

Vegeta knew what happened, he could pick up on the horrible sound of cracking bone as easily and perfectly as a pianist could pick out middle G.

It was what he was raised into.

The panic set in almost immediately. Vegeta had no idea what humans could survive. Saiyans could recover from almost anything that didn't directly stop their heart or lungs, but he knew humans weren't so resilient.

After he recovered from the shock he was at Yamcha's side almost instantaneously. Vegeta knelt down next to Yamcha, who was curled up in a twitching ball in the dirt.

He gently placed one hand on Yamcha's shoulder, and tried to get his other into the spasming ball of flesh, just below the ribcage.

"Yamcha, listen to me." Vegeta kept his voice calm, but there was no disguising his worry. "You need to uncurl. If your muscles spasm around the broken bone, it's harder to repair."

He heard that bit while he was in a healing tank when he was eight.

Slowly, ever so goddamn slowly, Yamcha allowed himself to be straightened out and laid flat on his back. Vegeta wasn't sure where to go from here.

Vegeta, still kneeling, desperately wracked his brain for anything he could remember about treatments on earth. Every now and again someone would come out to treat a player during one of Yamcha's matches, but it was the off-season. No one would be at the stadium.

Bit by bit, Yamcha calmed down as the pain subsided. He saw Vegeta at his side, face frozen in panic. It was a face he didn't wear often, and Yamcha was glad for that. He reached out his hand and gently grabbed Vegeta's wrist.

"Hey."

Vegeta snapped back to reality and looked down to see Yamcha smiling softly. "It's okay. I'm not gonna die." He released his grip and then patted Vegeta's hand. "It wasn't even one of the important ribs anyway."

Vegeta stared humourlessly and allowed himself to sit.

"How do I fix this?" he asked, both of them knowing he meant not only 'How do I help you?' but also 'I'm sorry.'

Yamcha wanted to let out a small chuckle of reassurance, but figured a broken rib would make that a bad call.

"You wouldn't happen to have a senzu bean on you, would ya?" He knew, of course that neither of them did. He also knew that Vegeta probably didn't know where the hospital was.

Immediately Vegeta stood up straight. "I can't believe I almost forgot about the damned beans!" He looked down at the man still lying in the dirt, eyebrows now knitted together. "I'll be right back."

"WAIT!"

Yamcha sucked in a sharp breath; yelling like that was not a good idea. "H-Hold on, man! You can't just go zipping up to Korin's Tower and demand some beans!"

Vegeta looked down at him, unimpressed. "And why not?"

Smiling up at his boyfriend and accidental assailant, Yamcha answered "Because you have to climb it first, or Korin won't give you any." He patronizingly flumped his hand onto the other man's shoe before continuing.

"Plus, you have to be polite about it, and I know you're not up for that!"

Vegeta scowled, but it seemed almost good-natured as far as Vegeta scowls went. Maybe it was relief that Yamcha was feeling well enough to tease him, maybe it was just the thought of a challenge making its way to his brain, but either way he seemed much more relaxed.

"I am perfectly capable of being polite."

The snicker that left Yamcha's lips hurt just a bit, and after he winced he cocked an eyebrow. "Even if Yajirobe is there?"

Vegeta sat back down, arms crossed, and refused to answer.

He looked at his mate, and let out a fond sigh. "We're going to have to do something about your rib."

"Yeah, yeah, in a bit. It's a really nice day out, though. Look at how blue the sky is!"

It was a simple ploy, one that wasn't even meant to fool Vegeta, more a sort of way to ask him to lay down. It worked, of course. Always did.

And so, the prince of all two Saiyans lowered himself to the dirt and laid beside his damaged goods. He rested his hand on top of Yamcha's and looked up at the sky.

"Hmph. I suppose it is an intriguing shade..."

#my writing #dbz #dragon ball #dragon babble #yamcha #vegeta #yamgeta #im. SO TIRED.#but yaaaaaay it's done woohoo!#romance can be. tough love #im imagining vegeta either had been thinking about this for weeks or had a nightmare the night before #anyway yamcha is watching Dirty Jobs bc both my grandpa and father (unrelated) are still watching it #so to me it is the ultimate innofensive dad show #like regardless of political leanings u understand #and vegeta keeps things organized both as a royal and as a military kid #okay. goodnight

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soopsiedaisies · 2 months

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suffering will be your teacher

I don't think it's too late to share this one :)

Rating: E, for violence

Tags: Time Travel; Scarless Zuko; Zuko & Zuko's Crew; Jee has only had Zuko for a day and a half but if anything happened to him he would kill everyone on this ship and then himself

Summary: Zuko falls asleep on the evening of his official coronation, when he’s twenty-one-years old and has finally reached his majority. Zuko wakes on the morning of the Agni Kai with his father, eight years earlier. This is annoying for several reasons, like the fact that the War is still ongoing, that he has zero friends, and that Ozai is not in jail. It’s time to scheme.

Also, here are some ficnotes under the cut, if you're interested in some of my reasoning in regards to how the Agni Kai went in this universe. It's a bit spoilery but not if you've read chapter 1:

I’ve received a small handful of comments being shocked and/or delighted by Zuko deciding to burn Ozai the way Ozai burnt him: hand over the face like wiping away a tear, and then just going to town with their natural flamethrower ability. Whether this would be seen as in character or not, I wrote it in because I think it’d be in character, and I suppose that’s a rather important bit of writing lol.

You can probably interpret it as Zuko perpetuating his family’s violence, or suddenly being okay with being goaded into a fight. But here’s the thing: he’s not okay with it. I’ve tried to hint at Zuko being disgusted with himself post-burning, yet simultaneously satisfied—because, hey, he’s back to fight-or-flight mode. He’s gone from the relative comfort of a palace filled with people he’d show his soft underbelly to, to the metaphorical viper’s den that was the palace when Ozai still ruled. Despite it having been a few years for him, Zuko still knows that it’s dangerous to be there, and that he cannot, under any circumstance, show aspects of his natural personality that may be deemed as weak. He’s the Prince and kindness, or mercy, will be punished. And he also doesn’t want to be burnt again—he’s not going to take that challenge lying down.

So Zuko takes a risk. He fights back and uses his own experience to get his father to his knees. He burns Ozai before Ozai can burn him, despite the detail that harming the Fire Lord is probably illegal. And yes, like Azula told him, a simple burn on the shoulder would’ve been enough… but with someone as dangerous as Ozai, it’s better to incapacitate him. Ozai clearly doesn’t care about fighting fair and nobody would’ve stopped him either: in the show, Zuko went on his knees, refused to fight, and begged for mercy, but Ozai burnt him anyway without any sort of protest from anyone there. Zuko was in an inescapable and incredibly violent situation where the only way out was violence from his side. It’s an easy choice at that point, I think.

Additionally, it’s also a revenge fantasy come true. I do believe that during the confrontation between Zuko and Ozai in Day Of The Black Sun, Zuko would’ve considered killing his father for a moment—or at least harming him. He doesn’t because it’s Aang’s responsibility to do so, and because killing your dad at age 16 after a lifetime of loyalty is kind of…. hard, but I’m certain there was a brief moment he thought about it. And burning your father instead, in the exact way he burnt you in another life, with him on his knees instead of you? Possibly a little bit satisfying. Zuko was granted a chance and took it.

So, he’s scarless (if you have trouble imagining it: think of his face in the flashback of The Storm, plus his Fire Lordly face in his fever dream in The Earth King). I can hear people go like, “But Soopsie, that’s not our Zuko! The scar is a very important part of his character!”, and that is very fair. But keep in mind that he’s a 21 year old man who only occupies the body of his thirteen year old self, and he’s actually older than the Zuko of the show. I also think it’s not the scar which makes Zuko Zuko, but rather the mental/emotional scarring that lies underneath. Ozai still very much burnt him. There’s just not any physical proof right now.

(I also don’t need to do any physical character design for this, which is a plus. He’s a lot less recognisable rn)

#putting it under this blog because my atla blog is mainly ZK meta and posts and this is a gen fic lmao #zuko atla #jee atla #zuko's crew #atla fanfiction #ozai #suffering will be your teacher #atla fic

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