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kitswag · 4 months

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A little art about a headcanon of mine for Dragon and Sabo, and a little fanfic about it under the cut

"Dragon-san," a familiar voice, Sabo's voice came knocking from the door of the cluttered office. Dragon perked up, putting down the pen he's writing with- just a follow up rough plan for the revolutionary's next strike.

The door was opened and there was Sabo with a bleeding arm. Instinctively, Dragon reached for the cabinet on his desk, pulling it open to grab for a roll of bandages and a bottle of antiseptic.

Sabo sat in front of Dragon, reaching out his roughed-up arm, his face not showing a trace of pain. (Dragon always knew the surges beneath his mask anyways.)

Dragon sighed as he saw the gnarly wound on Sabo's arm. The boy had a knack on being risky, sometimes even too keen on self sacrifice. Even though being a revolutionary always costed a price, Dragon couldn't help but worry about Sabo's knacks.

"I got a little reckless with my plans, " Sabo offered a little charming smile to Dragon (cut out the reprimands just this time?)

"I always told you to be careful. You're too good to lose, " Dragon said (again, Sabo?).

Sabo offered another cheeky smile, "Next time," he said, as if Dragon never feared for his name written on the list of fallen revolutionaries in a mission report.

When Sabo first arrived in Baltigo, still wrapped with bandages all over, not even able to move his wounded limbs freely, he would only turn to Dragon to replace his bandages, any nurses who tried to replace it would only make him flinch violently.

Dragon tapped a cotton smeared with antiseptic liquid on his arm, following it up with the roll of bandages. Soon, after falling into the familiar act of wrapping Sabo's wounds, Dragon couldn't resist the nostalgia that went flying right to his head.

But of course, they understood (despite being concerned) , that Sabo was a child, a child that had no one familiar except for Dragon in an unfamiliar, new building far far away from his home island.

When his burns healed, and when he finally got to trust the nurses, it still became a habit. He would knock on Dragon's door or tug at his coat, show his wounds, and Dragon would pull out his cabinet and fish out a bottle of antiseptic liquid and some bandages. And there it was, a repeating pattern of tapping a cotton smeared with the antiseptic against Sabo's wounds and wrapping it up with soft bandages.

Dragon always thought of it as a comforting habit.

It was not rare that he would receive reports about his fallen men, people that had died for his own cause. And being here, bandaging Sabo, feeling the warmth of his skin, reminded Dragon that his Chief of Staff, his son, was still here, still alive. Still able to go knock on Dragon's office and offer a smile and a wound.

Sabo's small hiss of pain suddenly brought Dragon abruptly out of his daze. He softened his pace and grip, finishing wrapping Sabo's arm with tying the end, cutting the excess bandage with a small pair of scissors.

"Thank you, Dragon-san, " Sabo smiled, softly.

Dragon couldn't resist reaching his hand out and ruffling Sabo's hair, "Be careful next time," he warned.

Sabo's smile turned into a grin, "This time is just a slip up. "

Dragon couldn't help but smile back. Thin, but soft with fondness for his son sitting in front of him. He pulled his hand out of Sabo's locks of blonde and hope that tomorrow, his name wouldn't be written on the list of the fallen.

#phew that's a good writing warm up #a sweet headcanon i had #anyways dragon is sabo's father figure and i refuse to believe otherwise #btw fun fact when i wrote this my body was screaming at me DRINK WATER!!! 👉💧💧❗❗but i was so engrossed in writing this #that i actively ignored myself tying to keep myself alive #revolutionary sabo #one piece #one piece fanart #one piece art #one piece fanfiction #sabo headcanons #one piece headcanons #monkey d dragon #revolutionary dragon #op fanfic

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tender-rosiey · 6 months

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“GOOD! NOW PUNCH HIS FACE!”

— when your baby and gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna get protective over you (f!reader)

a/n: I am alive!! as an apology here is a multi-character post 🙏 btw in toji's part, you're megumi's mom

GOJO SATORU:

two peas in a pod, twins, copies: these are all things people have called your husband and son.

honestly, they’re not wrong. your son has his father’s looks—satoru swears he has your nose and ears but anyway—and he carries the same protectiveness and love he holds for you, if not amplified.

you can’t count on one hand the amount of times the house has been turned upside down because of their fights for a cuddle session with you.

of course, you have always tried suggesting them simply sharing you, but these problem children would rather eat raw zucchini than ever share the cuddle time.

so while your son is barely six, you can still count on him to team up with satoru against anyone who wrongs you in anyway like what’s happening right now for example.

you’re out with your lovely family to buy some groceries, and since they both were whining about getting some sweets, you allowed them to go and snatch a couple from the next aisle.

on the other hand, you stayed to look for another type of detergent to clean the floor—especially since satoru got this new type of paint for s/n and it’s quite an endeavor to remove it with a regular detergent.

however, being in the cleaning supplies section never guaranteed the lack of filthy men who can’t take no for an answer. this one man approaches you, smug grin on his face as he leans on the wall, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone?”

“buying groceries like a normal person; now please leave me alone.”

he quickly frowns, “don’t be so stingy doll,” his hand extends towards your arm, “I can show you a good time; I promise—“

the man is swiftly smacked with an egg on his face, and he is left with the egg dripping down his face, “what’s your wrong with your kid, man?!” he yells at the person behind you.

he then grumbles, “ruined a potential good night.”

“my kid was absolutely right in what he did,” you hear satoru’s voice. you then feel a hand on your shoulder, and you’re pulled into a chest you’re all too familiar with, “’toru—“

your husband shoots a small smile your way, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, before looking at his son, “that last throw was very good, s/n! throw another one but just below his stomach."

a cheshire cat-like grin is plastered on your husband’s face as s/n prepares to launch another egg at the man.

there is a very evident scowl on your son’s face as he yells, “don’t you ever bother mama again, you stinky bum crumb!”

the man gasps and tries to make a run for it, but your son wouldn’t be the son of gojo satoru if he doesn’t manage to land the hit exactly where he wants.

the man quickly crumbles to the ground screaming and alerting literally everyone in the store.

so satoru picks both you and s/n and makes a run for it.

you hold tightly onto him, “wait, ‘toru, the groceries!”

“we can always order! saving my princess and son is more important!”

your son grumbles, “but I want to hit the rude man!”

“me too, champ, but—“ satoru sweat-drops and glances behind him, “I doubt the angry security guards would like that!”

GETO SUGURU:

your twin girls are one of the sassiest to exist.

in a way, they take after their father who is also pretty sassy but very low-key.

the sass of all three combined is terrible to be the victim of. luckily for you, they don’t dare direct their triple ray towards you, especially—in any argument—at least one will try to win you over.

if it’s suguru trying to stay on your good side, then he is hugging you from behind, pressing feather-like kisses on your shoulder and whispering about how sweet you are. if it’s the girls, then they cling to your legs and keep yelling about how much they love you.

so it is safe to say that you have a small squad to protect you from any potential “danger”.

“oh my, dear shouldn’t you focus on refining yourself a bit more?” you hear a woman say beside you.

you turn towards her, offended, “excuse me?”

“I mean,” her eyes scan you, disapprovingly, “you look average at best, and with that you won’t be able to find yourself a husband, let alone have children.”

you’re still processing her audacity as she continues, “but then again, it’s probably for the better that you don’t have children; you can barely take care of yourself.”

“can I help you?” your husband says as he approaches the woman.

she smiles condescendingly before chuckling, “I was simply telling this lady to take care of herself more; she hardly looks presentable.”

geto’s smiles tenses up as he is about to give the woman a calm peace of his mind, but his daughters beat him to it.

your older twin stands in front of the woman, scanning her with pure disgust in her eyes.

she grimaces and voices out her thoughts, “you are like a crunchy lizard.”

the woman gasps, “how dare you—!”

you cut off the woman, curious about your daughter’s conclusion, “why a crunchy lizard, sweetheart?”

your daughter looks at you with a small frown, shaking her head, “a crunchy lizard is an ugly sad lizard.”

a snort escapes your husband, and you’re barely able to contain your smile.

your other daughter follows up, looking at her twin sister, “the lady looks like that one green thingy we saw yesterday,” she taps her little foot, trying to remember and beams at the woman, “shrek! you look like shrek!”

then they both glare at her, frowning, “you’re a monkey!”

your husband doesn’t let it go as he deals the final—subtle—blow, “come on now girls; we shouldn’t bully the lady with the mcdonald’s like hairline anymore.”

it seems like the woman can’t take it anymore as she starts sobbing and running to the hills.

a moment of silence is shared across the four of you, before you carry both of your girls in your arms and start tickling them, “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or scold you, little evil girls!”

they squeal, trying to escape your hold and calling for their father.

geto chuckles and wraps his arms around the three of you, “let them have it for tonight, y/n,” he ruffles their hair, “they were brave and defended their mom, after all.”

“yeah, papa is right!”

“yes mama, please!”

you pout then smirk at geto, “well I don’t mind, and since papa is also very proud of you girls, he will buy any toy that you guys want today!”

the color drains from your husband’s face, and he watches motionlessly as his girls latch onto him, screaming about the toys they want.

you giggle at his expression and blow him a kiss. he reluctantly blows you one back, while the girls excitedly pull him towards the toy store.

NANAMI KENTO:

you and your husband were blessed with the sweetest girl as your daughter, and she was just recently joined by another sweet girl.

you can never forget the happiness on your daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister.

it also seems that no matter how many times you give birth, your husband can’t help but get emotional when he holds your baby. his hands are forever delicate as he cradles her to his chest.

you remember what he said during the birth of your first daughter.

“I feel like a piece of heaven has been plucked and placed in my arms.”

the way he always goes soft for the three of you is honestly adorable.

today, you were going on an outing with your—now 6 months old—baby and your older daughter who is almost six.

your husband never brags about his muscular form, but he never misses a chance to carry the baby or the baby supplies.

you have offered to at least carry the bag, but he always refuses, stating that ‘you already carried the baby for nine entire months in your belly; this is the least I can do.’

so yeah, sometimes you wish to smooch your husband till forever, but that’s not the point.

you’re walking hand in hand with your daughter as she sings her favorite song. you hear someone click their tongue, so you look to the side and lock eyes with an old lady. she takes the opportunity and approaches you.

“you should be ashamed of yourself!” she yells pointing at you, “your husband shouldn’t be carrying the baby supplies nor the baby itself for the matter,” she scowls, “that’s your job!”

“with all due respect ma’am, but that isn’t her job, and taking care of the baby should be something we are both responsible for.”

“yeah!” your daughter huffs, “and don’t take out your sad life on my mama!”

your eyes widen as you stare at your daughter.

on the other side, your husband is just as speechless. your daughter pays no one any mind as she continues, “mama works hard every day! you wouldn’t know that! you immature nugget!”

nanami frowns lightly, “d/n, that’s not nice—“

and for the cherry on top, your baby daughter throws the bottle cap she was playing with at the old lady, and frowns at her.

she starts babbling some nonsense that you're pretty sure are curse words in baby language.

having had enough, the old lady huffs, “the utter disrespect,” and starts walking away.

the rest of the spectators’ eyes follow her till she is out of sight. finally then, people start minding their own business, and you and your little family are left to the aftermath.

you giggle, “that was funny.”

“really?!” your daughter beams.

nanami cuts her off, “no,” he then looks at you with a small frown, a sigh escaping his lips, “y/n don’t encourage them—“

your baby daughter screams happily when she sees her sister smile. she starts kicking her feet with the biggest smile on her own face.

your older daughter starts laughing with her and tries to make her little sister laugh more—she was successful.

meanwhile, you chuckle, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “admit it, kento; it was kind of funny.”

his resolve softens at the sound of laughter from all three of his girls, “okay, maybe a little, but—“

“yay!!”

ladies: 1

kento: 0

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

your husband and son are so alike, save for the part that your husband is a bit more shameless, and your son is more on the shy side.

however, they both have the same bluntness and the tendency to give anyone who they don’t like attitude.

for example, today, you were walking in the park with the both of them to unwind a bit.

not to mention that megumi wanted to walk his dogs which was a plus, since you would be able to watch your dear son play around with them.

it was all going great until you saw an old ‘friend’ who came running at the sight of you. he was someone who has always been way too touchy and in your personal bubble.

you have tried talking to him about it, but you’re confident that he does it to somehow force you into reciprocating the intimacy.

even if you’re a married woman with a freaking kid.

he giddily clasps your hand, “y/n, ‘been a long time!”

“h-hey,” you smile awkwardly.

he laughs, “I was passing by when I saw your figure, and I couldn’t help but come and say hi.”

you nod, “that’s great, but I am busy, so maybe later?—“

“you’ve gotten even prettier!” he exclaims, “I wish you would finally take me out on a—“

“can’t you see that she is uncomfortable?” your son retorts, “also, you should step back; you shouldn’t touch someone like this without asking them.”

megumi squeezes himself between the both you and glares at the man.

the guy was about to reply to your son, but toji pushes him back with ease, pulling you beside him and hand resting on your waist almost by instinct, “kid is right,” he tilts his head a bit, “ever been taught manners or do I have to do the teaching for you?”

the guy is taken back; offended, he snaps “you can’t speak to me like that!”

“and you can’t hold my mom’s hands like that, but here we are,” your son cleverly sasses him.

on the other hand, your—shameless—husband pulls you into one scandalous kiss and smirks at the guy when he pulls back, “and you can’t hit on a married woman, by the way.”

you hear your son gag in disgust at his dad’s actions, but you’re too busy burying your face in your husband’s chest, hoping that the guy disappears before toji makes even more of a bigger scene.

you also hope that the ground would swallow you, but that’s the alternative option.

the guy clutches his fist, before walking away, spewing insults at the sky—since he is too scared to cuss out your buff husband. once the man is out of sight, toji ruffles megumi’s hair, chuckling, “good job, kid.”

your shy bean’s cheeks redden slightly as he looks away, “…thanks.”

you’re still thinking about what just happened when you slap your husband’s chest, “toji, literally why?” you grumble, patting megumi who started holding onto your leg the moment you hugged toji.

“why not,” your husband shrugs with a small smile, taking pride in your flustered form.

“dad, I want ice cream.”

“no, you just want me to let go your mom, so you can hog her for yourself,” toji grumbles, staring down at megumi.

unfaltering, megumi looks up at him ,“dad, I want ice cream.”

“god damn it, listen here you—“

“divine dogs.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

there is no denying that both your son and your husband care for you very much, and they both—very aggressively—compete for your attention.

I am talking he literally throws the kid across the room kind of aggressive, and your son, in turn, throws whatever he has at him.

it’s eventful, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t one of the reasons why you will get grey hair earlier than everyone else.

so their very aggressive nature is also shown in their protectiveness over you.

a person doesn’t need to insult or even dare flirt with you for your devil duo to make their life a living hell; your husband and son don’t tolerate someone speaking to you if it causes you to ignore both of them.

for example, this one new servant was clueless to where the broom is, and unluckily for him, he saw you sitting with your husband and son in the gardens. he humbly approached you, “excuse me, m’lady.”

you turn to look at him with a smile, “yes?”

he clears throat, a bit flustered by the attention, “I—I wanted to ask where the—“

“up your ass, you disgusting fiend,” your son sneers followed by his father’s ever-permanent scowl.

“who gave you the permission to come and speak to her so casually?” sukuna presses, and the servant quickly falls to his knees.

“m-my apologies, my lord! I did not mean to disturb you!”

sukuna crosses his arms, “well, you did, and you also disturbed your queen and prince,” his eyes narrow at the servant, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

meanwhile, you’re watching all of that, mouth agape and trying to articulate anything to save the poor guy. you finally find your voice, “sukuna, it’s okay; he didn’t mean—“

your son hugs you tightly and glares at the servant, “to think he would so brazenly speak to you like you’re old friends is terrible, mother.”

you can almost see your son’s cursed energy flaring, and you can spot the small smirk on your husband’s face as he watches his son.

before it escalates any further and you find yet another dead corpse in your palace, you pick up your son, kissing his cheek which makes him flustered and causing him to bury his face in your neck.

you look at the servant, “you’re dismissed, and you can ask the head maid about anything you need, okay?”

“y-yes, m’lady!” he, however, stays glued to the ground, “may I have the permission to lift my head?”

sukuna grunts, “sure.”

“thank you, m’lord,” the servant says, before scurrying towards the gate, having secured his freedom after his little mistake.

or at least, that’s what he thought.

your husband slices his legs off with a flick of a finger, and your son, who has inherited his father’s technique, slices the head off.

and so the body falls to the ground, and the other servants hurriedly start cleaning up the mess.

you frown at your husband, “sukuna! he apologized!”

he rolls his eyes, and pulls you by the waist, “do I look like I care? he shouldn’t have interrupted our time together.”

“aww, you’re jealous!”

“no, I am not—“

“hands off, old man!”

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