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thesharktanksdriver · 7 months

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Determination! (Platonic)

Warning for this chapter: fisher tigers part is much more serious. It’s talks of slavery and while it isnt too graphic it does included a lot of mature themes. If that makes you uncomfortable please skip over it

You find that your dreams are very disjointed

Granted, you normally don’t dream at all

It’s typically just empty blackness as you fall into unconsciousness and then back into the waking world

But when you do have a dream every once in a blue moon

It’s…odd

Even for Dream standards you think their somewhat odd

The voices of those long past that you’d met cheering you on

Flashes of multicoloured sparks

The endless expanse of space as you stare at a star

It’s an old one, a dying one

Your not sure how you know that information yet you do

And you watch it die with sparkling eyes

It implodes on itself

Creating a massive explosion of light and energy that dispersed throughout the galaxy

Bright white light shattering into every colour imaginable into the void of space

The energy going in every corner of the universe

A supernova

Your not sure how you know that word but it comes into your mind

Perhaps it hasn’t even been invented yet because you know for a fact that knowledge on stars was vastly limited

Yet that doesn’t stop you from knowing knowledge you never knew before

You reach out towards the remnants of the dead star in a trance

The cheers of the dead yelling “stay determined!”

You open your mouth to eat the star shards

And then you wake up

How curious

Sun Pirates

In your time adrift at the endless sea you had come across many people of many races

Humans, odd winged people, mermaids, devil fruit users, marines and pirates

So it doesn’t come as a surprise when you come across a group of fishmen sailing the sea

They all look over deck at you with a mixture of expressions

Some worry, others pity and some with conflict

But as they all watch a Fishman with rose red skin, a tattoo of a sun on his chest and black hair tied back with a bandanna

He ushers them aside to look Down at you from what you assume to be his ship

“Hi! Do any of you know what part of the sea I’m in?. I think it’s the north blue? But I’m not sure. You’d think with the amount of time I’ve been afloat I’d be able to tell but-“

“Kid are you alone?!”

“Do you see anyone else on this ship?”

You don’t have much of a choice before your brought upon their ship

To their surprise though your not scared?

In fact you seem rather amused at the predicament your in

One that would usually leave normal people scared shitless

But it’s easy for the entire crew to tell your not a normal kid

Especially as you seem to find interest in what type of marine animals each member is

Even more so when you ask about how the capabilities/features of said marine animal

It’s…odd how knowledgeable you are despite your young age

And when they ask about it you just say “I know from experiences on the sea”

Like the fuck is that supposed to mean when your talking about the dangerous venom of the stonefish

They are worried

Like real worried

Some are still off put by the fact your a human but with how your talking the mixture of shock and concern overpower it

God they never thought they’d be fretting over a human but when you talk in visceral odd detail about how sharks occasionally eat people when desperate or confusing them for other prey

It’s a bit freaky

Doesn’t help that it’s oddly specific which makes it seem much more personal

And how you explain all these facts with a completely wide smile not noticing how their all horrified

Their captain Fisher tiger is especially worried when he questions you about how you ended up alone at sea in the first place

He keeps pressing you on the matter but always gets the same response of “I set out to sea and haven’t looked back” and “I’m not sure if my island exists anymore. It’s not like anyone would remember me, I’ve been gone for such a long time”

That implies so much and at the same time is very vague

This poor man is a few migraines away from bashing his head against a wall

But other than that and the worry he finds you to be an interesting kid

While watching you interact with his crew he notices that you treat them all as regular people

You don’t make snide comments nor do you go off of stereotypes to categorize them

Instead you see them as their own individual people

People who were owed respect no matter their race or appearance

And even when a few aren’t exactly the most friendly towards you your respect

Giving them space as you see their uncomfortable

For a kid your emotionally aware in a way that even most adults can’t compare

You can tell if someone has deep rooted trauma and don’t push the subject

Going out of your way not to bring up bad memories associated with humans if your presence did so

There were seemingly no bad feelings about it either

Just pure understanding in your eyes from possible personal experience

Even when he harbours hate for you it’s brushed off as seemingly nothing personal

When your not conversing your quietly helping around

Somehow knowing how to raise the sails and properly clean the deck

Never telling anyone of your deeds and just doing them to help out

It’s clear by how organic it is for you that your used to doing it

Yet your own …”ship” is something more akin to a poorly put together raft

Everything about you is odd

And for a long while he isn’t sure if that’s good or bad

Fisher is a man haunted by the actions inflicted upon him

A shared trauma among all his people from humans

He does not discriminate when rescuing slaves but he still has his own afflictions towards humans

The actions of them still on his skin and baring his soul

Yet he allows you on his ship despite it

Because he knows your a child

Someone who had not harmed him nor his people

Someone who’s innocent to the horrors of the world

To the harm done by your race

He grapples with his own hated for you because of something you cannot pick

He feels guilty and horrible for it

Yet the look in your eyes says that you understand him somehow

And that makes him feel worse

A child should not understand hatred from others

Let alone understand why he feels hatred towards them

And then also accept it with such empathy

it hurts

he's reminded of the guards who used to sneer at him for being who he was

you feel no sadness due to his gaze

only kindness as you do your best to avoid him

in some sense you understand why he gazes at you that way

you can't blame him, not when you yourself had been victim of the abuse of your own kind

looked down upon as dirt

seen as lesser

what hurts worse though is that you can't solely blame one group like he and some of his men can do

your human and your hurt by other humans

maybe it's worse in some aspects

it's why you give an understanding look in your eyes despite his occasional glare

Jinbe is perhaps the one you spend the most time with on the ship other than Hatchan

There is apprehension at first but what follows after a short period of time is kindness

Your just a kid

One not guilty for the crimes of others

He can’t blame someone’s actions on you

Especially when your nothing but respectful to them all despite their hesitation due to your race

He reminds you of a gentle giant which is fitting with what marine animal he’s acquainted to

Most times spent with him are ones where he listens to your words

Finding interest and intrigue in your stories and facts of the sea

It seems far fetched a child experienced all this but the look in your eyes says it’s true

The small mementos that hang on your form like hand woven bracelets, necklaces of shells and shark teeth, a coat befit for a captain hanging on your shoulders and bandana tied around your forehead to keep your hair tangled with pearls back

Their all signs that somehow your tales are true

As amazing and horrifying as they seem their true

And it leaves him feeling anxious

Your a good kid

Maybe one of the best he’s met so far and seeing the wear and tear on you hits him hard

You put up a smile and bare through whatever someone throws your way

Never once speaking back unless your standing up for someone besides yourself

It’s admirable but he sees how it has worn you down

Once upon a time he can imagine you smiling out of actual joy

And now it’s a mechanism for you to write off your pain

Your selfless to a fault

And on the sea people take advantage of that

But perhaps you already experienced that

And it leaves Jinbe’s stomach swirling with unease

He frets over you like a mother hen when you throw all regard for safety away and when you get something simple like a paper cut cause he knows either way you won’t care to tend to your own wounds

He honestly at the point wonders if this is what being a mother feels like

But he can’t contemplate that long cause Arlong is being a dick once again

Tension with him was high before but now Jinbe has half the mind to knock him square in the jaw if he kicks you again

And now he has half the mind to shake some sense into you when you walk it off

God he needs some sort of therapist cause he does not know how to help you beyond being protective and patching you up

It’s obvious that your hurt beyond repair on the inside

The times he’s found you just simply staring off towards the sea with a dead look in your eyes is a testament to that

A call of longing in long gone innocent eyes that still retain kindness despite it all

In those moments he just sits by your side and holds you

You grasp him like a lifeline

Something anchoring you down to reality as your mind makes you remember

He tells stories of fishmen island to distract you

He noticed though that when he tells of the promise to fishmen island from joyboy something in your eyes light up

Sparkles of light within them that dance but then fizzle away after a moment along with a shiver gliding down his back for some reason

He writes it off though

Just going back to his tales

It’s under yet another moon lit night you end up staring out at sea again

Memories of the past swirling in your mind like a hurricane

You can’t help it

Not after being reminded of one life you particularly didn’t like

You didn’t mean to overhear Fisher and Jinbe but it just happened

The captain of the crew talking about his time as a slave

The horror inflicted upon him at the hands of humans

You just keep staring out at the water

Burying yourself deeper into your subconscious trying to escape

But you can’t

Too distracted by the memories that you don’t even notice the two coming out the captains quarters to find you

Vacantly staring out at sea

Your staring out at the water

A deep empty stare

Darkness swirling in your irises

Occasionally you twitch, a jolt of imaginary pain burning your back once more

You sometimes still feel the pain of the brand that luckily now doesn’t haunt your skin

You hadn’t felt it in a long while until you realized after hearing him talk the tattoo of the sun on him was his brand covered up

It served as some sort of trigger

The memories came flooding back

The pain

The torture

The screams

The death

The rot

The overwhelming plea for death in a hell that became a limbo realm

Your hands trace the symbol on the wood lightly

Every couple of months (or maybe years? Your not sure) these thoughts and memories came up

It’s a normal cycle for you

Yet now they hit harder after seeing his tattoo

Cause it makes you think of them

Of the 3 sisters, the names of you never got as your mind makes the effort to forget what you experienced

Up until now you always had the worry of forgetting

You had been alive for a long time

so much so that your memories are inconsistent and blur together

Yet your time as a slave is something clear in your head that you wish erase

To wipe clean from your mind and bury

Yet you can’t will yourself to forget them

Because of those 3 girls you’d befriended over scraps of dry bread

Of the shared pain that was all understood from the four of you

Crying silently together while huddled in the dark

Cleaning one another’s bruises

The eldest girl of the bunch holding you one night when noticing your shivering form, the other two following in the action of huddling around you

A budding friendship formed from barely any words but silent understanding and conversations though looks

You can’t abandon their memory even if it’s attached to other ones you wished to bleach from your mind

It’s there staring into the darkened water you mutter 2 words that had been erased from your mind out of fear

“Celestial dragons”

The words are spat out like a curse yet your tone is full of emptiness

It’s something only someone affected by them could say in such a tone

Perhaps that’s why Fisher now looks at you with realization

“You…you were one too?”

“Yeah, it…I think it was a couple years back, I’m not sure though. The passage of time is hard for me to notice anymore, it all blurs together. Hell I can barely remember my life before the sea, I know I had parents and then they died but…I can’t remember their faces. Anyways, I was captured and sold, ended up in some dungeon.” For a moment you pause going over your memories as you pinch your chin in thought, the way you speak about it is nonchalant yet holds a lot of untold weight “it’s a blur of pain, I remember it specifically on my back. I try to limit how clear it is cause I don’t specifically like remembering it. There were these 3 girls though, sisters who all ended up in the same cell as me. We found kinship in our situation, I gave them the scraps of food I got since they needed it more than me.”

“Do you know what happened to them?” At hearing this you turn to Jinbe, a solemn expression crossing your face as an answer

“Not sure. I…like to hope that their ok, that they found their way back home” your tone is anything but hopeful, cracking with gloom that’s evident in your eyes “but hoping is all I can do. I wished for death when I was there, hoping they’d just finish me off so I could move on. At some point though I began to hope, those 3 girls needed someone there for them and I hoped I could remain just for them”

“Why’d you escape then?”

“I didn’t have choice.”

“What do you mean? That doesn’t really make sense”

They watch as an odd look forms in your eyes

They sparkle with unknown mystery

Something old and sentimental

Something ancient despite the young face you have

“Can you keep a secret?”

They look at one another for a moment

A silent conversation between the two

Jinbe is the one who nods first, your gaze then shifting to Fisher who takes a moment to look at you

He never noticed it till now but your eyes have something about them that…seems inhuman

For a second he swears he even sees stars sparkle in them

Great big shining stars that light the night sky’s and allow sailors to navigate the treacherous seas they love and call home

Stars that when he looks at reminds him of his freedom

Of not staring at the ceiling of a cage

Stars he wished to grasp at back in the days he wore shackles

Stars that for some reason now seemed to shine brighter, as if mirroring your resolve

He nods, watching a moment of vulnerability shine through eyes that look blank for a child

Eyes that have seen horrors

Eyes that had lost their twinkle of innocence yet still retain childlike charm in viewing the world

Eyes that sparkle of something ancient and old, residing in the depths of your irises like a great deity in the void of the night sky

“Have you heard about a star that never dies?” And so you begin your tale

By the time your done your tale they both sit there in silence

A deafening and choking silence that grips at you like the old collar of rusting steel or ball and chain that used to be attached to your leg

A sign of having your freedom weighed down

Locked away

You had once tried to break that leg but the girls stopped you

The eldest of them crying for you to stop

So you did

You watch them both stay in silence

And then see the tears line their eyes

And then they crumble like a cracked heart

Jinbe falling first as he grips you

Strong and battle-worn hands now soft and gentle

Afraid that you’d fade away

Afraid what would happen if he let go

It’s what you expected from him

But then You look to Fisher and find him in a similar state much to your surprise, if not he might be even worse than how Jinbe is handling what you told

Pure grief in his eyes

Regret

Pain

Solidarity

Familiarity

And most of all empathy

It pours out from him like his tears

Like a waterfall with never ending raging water crashing down onto the rocks

it’s loud and passionate

Covers up the internal screams of the past latching back onto him, into the lingering scars

Stinging Pain sinking back into those same spots like the angry gnashing claws of a beast

He’s hurting

But so are you

Your hurting together through shared experiences and ones he could never wish to experience

Jinbe holds you for a long while

Time melts away as do the phantom pains of those long past days

You hold him back

The soft material of his yukata pulling you in even further

Warmth

Comfort

Understanding

And your unspoken words of ‘thank you’ to his of ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’

You let time melt away a little more as they find themselves once more

“Why did you tell us this?” Fisher asks this with tears still falling down his face. Jinbe holds you close, webbed hand behind your head as he pulls you closer. You hear the waves lapping at the boat and the beats of his heart, it thumps like a drum. Rhythmically helping your equally torn apart emotions.

“I heard you talking about your experience. I thought it’s fair that I do the same” it’s said in such a simple manner that it makes the two fishmen reel back in shock for the third time in a night. It’s said in such sincerity and innocence, as if that was something normal “an equal exchange,If you will”

The crew watch on in confusion the next morning at the expression of thinking Fisher has on his face

Along with the clear signs of crying that Jinbe and him hold

People push but neither say a word

They say it isn’t their story to tell as their eyes trail back to you sitting with Hatchan

Playing a game innocently

Obliviously

Like a regular kid

Most don’t push after their captains grim expression

The look in his eyes

Some keep their curiosity to a low lit flame yet don’t get anywhere on the account they can’t get you to spill anything and Jinbe doesn’t exactly like them being nosey

So it eventually fizzles out

Things back back to normal

You tell your tales

Show them games they’d never played

You in turn learn more about fishman and mermaid society

But then you leave just as abruptly as you appeared

It’s weird to say but at a diner with them all as shanties are sung you just randomly say that soon you’ll be leaving

And despite how most of them hate to admit it

They didn’t want you to go

Hatchan is comically crying as a few others stubbornly argue against it

That it’s dangerous and you could get yourself killed

They look to Fisher and Jinbe who had been more observant of you as of late (if that’s even more humanly possible for Jinbe)

But their met with a reaction none had thought would happen

They object

They say it’s your choice and they can’t shackle you here

The sea was your home

And so the decision for your leave was cemented

In the days leading up to it you spend time with most the crew

But they all notice that at night you and their captain look out to the sky at night

Silence conversations happening through mere looks

pure understanding

Just pure solemn understanding

None make comments on it if they see it

Don’t mention it and forget it ever happened out of respect for both parties

And when the time comes to leave they all watch (some crying even) while waving goodbye

You promise them you’d meet again

“You’ll all be at sea right? Then that means you’ll definitely see me again someday! Wait and see! Grasp your freedom strong and tight, never take it forgranted”

Fisher watches and waves as you drift off into the distance, he holds a gentle smile

He hopes he’d meet you again

Hopes that perhaps you’d somehow end up on fishman island and talk to his people

As much as he thought Otohime’s talks of humans and fishmen working together in harmony were a naive and impossible dream

Perhaps if there were more humans like you it could work

And maybe

Just maybe

It would help both sides see that in the end neither were that different from one another

In your words on the silent night before you left “we both bleed, we feel and in the end we both have the same fates don’t we?. At heart no matter if your fishman, mermaid, human or anything else we experience the same gifts of life. We are all equal in the fact we are born on this earth and die here, and with that comes the desire for freedom and the pursuit of happiness”

He and his crew still have a lot to grapple with on the road to change

But you helped them start the first steps in overcoming the hate for your kind

A young immortal human child who had seen horrors upon horrors

Inflicted by their own kind that they will never stop loving with all their heart

Because you believe that inherently almost every sentient creature is born with kindness in them. It’s the world that corrupts it

When they are asked to take a former slave girl back to her hometown he does not have any hesitation to do so

He hopes that this is the next step in overcoming his hatred

Mihawk

Mihawk thought he was going to have a nice and relaxing day

His morning had been going great, a nice glass of red wine before he trained, a good breakfast

And then when he went outside of his castle there he finds is a young child looking around confused

….god damn it

So yeah, you died and just randomly appeared on the island that houses the greatest swordsman currently in the world

Not exactly your first choice but it wasn’t the worse

Well wasn’t bad instil the swordsman himself shows up looking as confused as you were

Yeah seems like you have some explaining to do

And dying or running away wouldn’t exactly help with the endeavour either since he seems intent on an answer

So here you are

In a gothic mansion lead by Mihawk into a room as he calmly sits down and asks you to explain

Now

And so you do

Well…you do the best you can to explain your entire situation as he sits there with a blank expression

By the end he just sighs

To be honest he’s not sure if he believes it or not but he takes it as an answer for now

And after that you two form an odd friendship and routine as you spend your time on his island

To his pleasure your polite and not loud

Silently watching him train or go about his day

Along with that conversations with you are actually quite pleasant

Mihawk is a man of very few words

Only shanks is able to get him talking with the help of finely aged booze

Yet talking with you comes naturally as breathing the air around him

It’s intriguing

Especially as it seems your story isn’t a bluff for how personally and detailed your recounts of events are

Colour him impressed

you talk of Roger in a way that only Shanks could do

Describe the gods valley event with details only found in classified marine files

Not only that but your also a good storyteller

Telling such events in glorious ways that he can’t help but listen to the liquid gold that is your voice

The treasure trove of stories that flow out your mind

He must admit that he can’t help but sit on the edge of his seat

Wanting to hear more

In this time he comes to care for you

Your a child eternally

One in a cruel world that preys on the weak

While you may be strong mentally (god knows if you hadn’t then you would’ve gone insane) but physical your not

What doesn’t help is your total and utter lack of self awareness

God knows the amount of times he’d saved your ass from being killed by Humandrills

After awhile they seem to get the memo of leaving you alone but that still doesn’t stop you from almost dying in other ways

Almost walking off a cliff

Almost falling into a river

Almost getting hit by a piece of falling stone

He is now paranoid and trails you like a shadows or has you stick around him incase of yet another near death incident

God is this what being a dad feels like? Cause that’s how Mihawk feels at this point

He has half the mind to buy a child leash or something similar

Cause if you wander off one more time and almost die he’s gonna-

You make his stress levels go through the roof

Doesn’t help you completely brush of dying as no big deal

As if being eaten that one time isn’t traumatic as hell

He wonders if his position of warlord has some sort of health benefits cause he might look into therapy

Not that you think you need it though, you think your completely fine yet he begs to differ

You find it funny how stoic he is yet you can read him like a book

He shows his growing care through actions

Like making breakfast or decorating a spare room of his castle to something more suited to your taste

The unspoken offer of “if you need a place to stay your always welcome here” through these actions

A silent way of also prepping for you leaving

He knows that moment is coming

Especially as your small “boat” drifts ashore

He’s hardly call that a boat but nether the less it floats on water and you call it a boat

In your time preparing to leave he insists on at least teaching you the basics of using a sword

The proper positioning of your grip and stance

How to give a powerful slash

You pick up quickly, years of watching experienced swordsmen coming into play

He’s proud yet worry sows itself into his brow

Your a kind soul

One that has been put through untold hell and back

Even the strongest sword can bend and break if pressure is put on the perfect point

He doesn’t know what your breaking point will be but he’s worried

Cause inevitably it’s bound to happen

He at least has some peace of mind knowing he taught you how to fight

And when he sends you off he promises that when you next meet he’d have Sword fit for you

The castle feels more lonely without your small pitter patter of footsteps

The air is still when it should be filled with your stories of old

The garden takes more effort than he remembers when your not there to pull out the weeds

The Humandrills seem to miss your presence

It’s odd but you’d left such an impact in such a small amount of time

Mihawk wouldn’t have it any other way though

Hiriluk

Recently on the spring island you found yourself on there had been rumours of a thief going by

Normally this wouldn’t had caught your attention

But one day as you walk past an odd eccentric man with Snow White hair in a ridiculous manner with clearly stolen objects you can’t help but be intrigued

Especially as he shifts into an alleyway, leaning against the grimy wall with a hand over his heart

Coughs racking his entire form

Almost crumbling down as the subsequent spoils of his stealing fall as well

It’s then and there you become invested in this odd man

His story

So you decide to help him

For someone’s who’s a thief you’d thinks he’d be less enthusiastic about giving out his name

But your sorrily mistaken (in a good way) as the man introduces himself as Hiriluk

A master thief of the grand line

A plunderer of countless treasures and various tales

You nod along

Listening intently to his words as you help walk him to his hideout

The poor man is still shaken after his illness acting up again

Apparently as of late it’s been worse, so much so that he fears his days are now limited

But despite that he keeps a quite chipper attitude

Somehow finding enjoyment despite his circumstances

He’s…much like yourself in that sense

Finding joy even in the bleak conditions of your reality

It…is nice in some sense

To find someone a lot like yourself in mindset

Makes conversation much more interesting as you both talk of similar viewpoints

Much like you he is plagued with a curse that follows him everywhere he goes

From island to island

No matter the pace he canning escape his disease

A factor of his life that he must now deal with as he enjoys the time he has left

He’d given up on a cure by now

But…despite that you can’t help but research a bit to at least try

He appreciates the effort but solemnly admits that he’s tried everything

Hell, his island is known for their doctors and they couldn’t help him

He’s a lost cause like anyone with white lead disease

It’s a fact he accepts

And sadly you do so as well

Your stand only works for you

It’s entire purpose is for its user and not for anyone else

Not versatile or has any multiple uses

At least not that you knew of anyways

So on that factor you can’t do anything

So as you accept that fact you instead focus on spending time with the man

Listening to him get drunk and talk of someone named Kureha

An “old witch” with a stubborn edge and sharp tongue

But also has a kind heart

Someone who became a doctor for a reason, to help others as best she could even if she caused some chaos in the process

An odd one just like him (and you he adds with a smile) someone who didn’t fit in with the crowd

But maybe that was ok

Being different could very much be a curse for several reasons

Especially in a judgmental society that is maintained by the world government

But that otherness was also a blessing

Weirdness serving as a catalyst for so many wonderful things

For new ideas

For stubborn creativity that wouldn’t be snuffed out but instead burn bright

For brining together the people society looked down upon and giving them a chance to rise up

Your stay on the island is coming to a close but despite that Hiriluk doesn’t panic or seem depressed at the thought

Instead he finds happiness in the time still left

The conversations that have been spoken

The time he has left in this world being used for something truly nice

Not just stealing

Instead now truly engaging with life

The spring island your both on is now at its fullest bloom

The place was somewhat famous for how beautiful it was but neither of you had yet to see it

So the day before you go you asked if he’d like to go see it with you before you left

A last hurrah

One that would be spent watching the cherry blossoms in full bloom and have lunch

He agreed

The next morning is spent with him getting snacks of all kinds

Him packing them in a small basket as you lead him with the directions you got from locals

The two of you go up the hill overlooking the light pink trees in full bloom

His hand gripping yours as he goes still in shook

The sight is breath taking

Even the air from your lungs is seemingly sucked out at the sight of the trees in full bloom

The petals gently cascading down like snow around you

Getting stuck in your hair and pooling in his cupped hands

His eyes tear up and stare down at the pink petals

It’s breathtaking

And for the first time in a long while he feels ok

There was no blockage in his chest

Nor the looming grip of death on his shoulders

He felt cured

Like an average man that he always wanted to

The dream of his that died long ago in a doctors office when they said it was incurable

But now as he stares he feels hope

Something igniting in him in place of his Illness

These small fluttering petals had an impact on him just as you had

It cured him somehow

You showing him this magical sight cured him

And now he wanted to do that for others

He wanted to show the people of his bleak winter island this magnificent sight

To see pink instead of the white fluttering snow

To see trees not covered in snow that dampened their beauty

To feel the air escape their lungs

The lunch goes by quickly as does your leaving but both of you do so with a smile

He sets off with a new goal and you wish him luck

Telling him that you believe he’d somehow come up with a solution cause people like the two if you always did somehow

He smiles

When he returns back to his home island he sets out to be a doctor

To help cure others just as you had done with him

Some of The petals he collected that day kept in a small glass jar he kept as a souvenir and for testing

When Kureha calls him crazy he takes the words in pride

Recalling back on your time spent together

That odd little kid who had a spirit beyond their days

One who would humour his ramblings

Took him to that fateful place of blooming Sakura that would go on to change his life course forever

A parting gift in both an experience and in changing his life for the good

So he works on bringing that miracle to the winter island he lives on

Despite how impossible it seems he tries

And he tries and tries

And he keeps going despite how many times he is pushed down by yet another failure

You motivate him

The gift you gave him that he wants to share with others motivated him

His new student that in a lot of ways reminds him of you motivated him

Chopper sometimes still wonders why Hiriluk had taken him in

It lingers on the small reindeer’s mind

And it’s glaringly obvious what he’s thinking making the old “doctor” laugh

“Us weirdo’s have to stick together. I learned that from a friend of mine” as he says this the small blue nosed reindeer watches as the man pulls a framed photo off the wall. In it is him and a child with a large smile. “Hopefully one day you’ll meet them.”

“You…do you think they would accept me?”

Hiriluk let’s our a large laugh at that, clutching his sides as small tears line his eyes “if they hung around a old crazy coot like me then I’m sure they’d love you”

His young apprentice feels hope at his words

Sometimes silently staring at the picture with faint hope that one day he’d meet the doctor-….no his dad’s old friend

Perhaps in the future

But for now he had to help him find a cure

His sickness is getting worse and chopper doesn’t now if he could live with himself if he didn’t find a cure

His only lead as of now is some mushroom that can apparently cure anything

It’s a long shot but he has to try

He gazes as the photo once more

Hiriluk’s smiling face staring back along with your own

He’ll make sure Hiriluk will get to see you again

He promises it

With that the young reindeer sets off in the snow

Whenever you see the cascading petals of cherry blossoms you wonder how that odd doctor was doing

Brook

It was at reverse mountain that you had found yourself being picked up by a particular crew

The rumbar pirates had originated in the west blue

A musical band of jolly singing pirates with instruments of all kinds

All of which varied from different islands and cultures

Brough together in musical harmony

It’s amazing to you how music seems to come to them wordlessly

They play and magic is produced from their songs

So much so a baby whale follows them in their journey and is now waiting for them to return

A promise they intend to keep as the travel the sea like any good crew

Whilst the captain and crew are welcoming and friendly there’s one person in particular your drawn to

Brook is a fun and free soul

Constantly with a smile or chuckling out his odd but charming laugh

The musician teaches you piano as best he can

His hands guiding yours as the crew eagerly watch with bright smiles

Eventually as they sing and dance he has you play side by side with him

Placing his top hat in your head as they all call you “mini brook”

It’s fun

Especially as the giant of a man picks up his violin and lets you play alone

The two of you stringing together a melody that the others join in on

Dancing and singing with slurred speech and jumbled steps

Those nights feel like a haze in your mind

One with a rosy tinted filter overtop those memories

Of the songs sung

The dancing as the crew took turns showing you their groove

Taking your hands into their own and your feet atop theirs as they showed you to dance

But then the music began to die

Despite your many deaths you’d experienced and saw of pirates

This was one that was common yet still chilling

Illness

Honestly with how many ships you’d been on your surprised you’d never experienced a death like this

And it’s certainly one you’d never thought they’d have to suffer through

It starts off as one person

And then it spreads

Brook and the others keep you away from the sight

Telling you that they were just hungover

You don’t tell them you know hangovers don’t last several days

As others being to fall Brook keeps to at least trying to keep the facade of things are fine in front of you

Even as he has to take the place of their captain

He has a good facade

But you hear his sobs at night

For his fallen Crew and the fact it’s still spreading

And for you

By god is he worried for you

They’d all talked of the possibility of having you take your small shipped tied to their own and leave

But they all agree it’s too big of a risk

Their at the middle of the sea, it would be a death sentence if they let you go on your own

They can’t have that happen

Even if there’s still a chance here that you’ll die

There’s still the possibility that at least someone will spot their ship

That help can come and at least rescue you

So for now they have you stay

The symptoms come slowly

You feel more tired

Burning up

Laboured breath

Their all mortified as you one day pass out on deck

When you wake up your tucked into bed

Nearby someone sobs

You recognize his voice and blurred figure despite your senses being dulled

Small shaky hands reach for his

And he reciprocated the action repeating that he’s sorry

That he’s so sorry

That it’s his fault

That he was supposed to keep you safe

You say it isn’t his fault but it falls on deaf ears

He keeps crying even as he coughs

You keep saying it’s alright even as it feels harder to breath

Eventually even though everyone is dead or on the brink of dying they decide to do one last number

One last piece

Binks booze

You sit beside Brook having to lean against him for support as both his and your hands drift along the ivory keys

The songs plays full force

The few left playing the tune

Some cheerfully sing with smiles and dance withe one another

But they fall first

Dying with smiles despite it all

You sing in their place along with those who are left

The singing goes down by one as yet another falls down

Violin clattering to the floor

You sing louder in his place despite how your lungs burn and throat feels as if needles scrape against it

Another violinist goes down after this

Brook shakes beside you

He keeps up a smile

You do so as well but tears escape your eyes

A quartet

The cello goes down

A trio

His smile wavers and tears trail down his face now

He’s breaking

The final goes down now

It’s just you and Brook left, but you feel yourself getting weaker

The edges of your eyes have black dotes and every time you close them it’s harder to open them once more

A duet

You keep playing for his sake

He looks down at you sobbing silently as he continues to play

Their flag waves silently in the wind

“I’m not sure how longer I can play…do you think you can do a solo?”

Tearfully he nods

Playing as you sing

Continuing even after the lyrics stop flowing from your mouth and you slump down into his side

A solo

He cries

Eventually the piano comes to a close

Despite there being no skeleton of you to put with the rest of the memorial Brook doesn’t question it

The sight of Your body disappearing into golden light was just a trick of the mind all those years ago to help with the grief of him failing you

He knows he went insane a long time ago

He’s spent years alone at sea mulling over their deaths, of yours and the promise to Laboon

His mind is long gone as he wanders the old tattered ship that used to be filled with song

Despite it all he tries to put up a mask of being happy

But he never sings

Never plays music

He can’t deal with another solo

Can’t deal with that last performance

Sometimes he thinks of the songs they made

The one the crew made about you that surprisingly got popular

Based off the odd tales of stars you talked about

An undying one

He wonders if it still plays

You remember they made a song about you

It’s long forgotten to the many new sailors of the sea

But on occasion you hear it from old souls. Those who had traveled the seas for many years and had retained the songs and myths now forgotten to the new

The sound of it always makes you smile, but it is tinged with sadness as you do so

Whenever it is sung or Binks Booze you promised yourself you’d always join in

A promise to them, that kind musical crew all those years ago that suffered a horrible death from a bad stroke of luck

You carry their memory along with Laboon

Whenever you end up at reverse mountain you always sing the songs they once did to ease the whales heart ache

It can only do so much but Laboon at least stops jutting against the mountain momentarily

Wanting to one day reunite with those jolly sailors

You wish you could one day do the same

But for now you carry their memories

Their songs that house the remnants of their souls

Sometimes you swear you see their rotting ship

But you always wave it off as missing them

Of delusions of your mind as you stare out into the darkness of the sea

#platonic #one piece x reader #brook x reader #hiriluk x reader #mihawk x reader #dracule Mihawk x reader #Jinbe x reader #fisher tiger x reader

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naomihatake · 7 months

Text

In search of freedom (Ch. 7)

7. What do you wish for?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ; Chapter 8

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence, tiny bit comfort at the end

Word count: 8,4 k

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I'm glad I could finish the chapter so early and there are some scenes in here that I really loved writing. Also, I want you to pay close attention to the fight Witch has with the fishman. The anime watchers and manga readers that got far enough with One Piece will probably get it faster ;)

I'd be happy to hear your opinions on this chapter. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

"What is your dream?"

While she would've rather expected that question to come from Luffy, the tipsy Zoro by her side, leaned against the mast, seemed to be rather intrigued by her reasons to remain with Luffy.

When she turned her head towards him, one of her suppositions was proved to be right: the stars above shone beautifully, but nothing could compare to the swordsman's brown eyes. In the dark, his dark chocolate irises were swallowed by pupils dark as the depths of the oceans. No. Dark and beautiful as the night sky she teared her gaze away from.

Her silence could've been interpreted in many ways and Zoro might become suspicious, but his already flushed state seemed to swallow everything in. He only looked back at her.

The witch couldn't exactly spot the specific aura of his gaze. He wasn't only flushed because of the alcohol, no. He seemed… soft, even. His shoulders were relaxed and the grip on the empty bottle loosened up.

His question was simply something she didn't expect, as he was always down to earth, similarly to Nami. However, there was a tiny difference — he proudly admitted he wanted to become the strongest swordsman in the world.

"I—," the word left her lips like a mere whisper.

Her determination faltered under the weight of the alcohol. Until that moment, after sharing some ugly parts of her past, his remarks made her laugh and chuckle happily.

"I want to be free."

One simple wish that could have so many connotations.

"I don't see any rope around your wrists."

His voice was like a low rumble coming from the depths of his chest, such a pleasant and soothing sound.

Their eye contact didn't break. Their gazes were locked together and she couldn't bring herself to be mad about it, especially when she was drunk enough to let vulnerable sides of her poor soul see the light of the stars.

Faint, shy, but it was there.

"I want to be free from myself and the expectations everyone has of me," she clarified. "Free from the rules of the world, written or unwritten. Free from the Marines that are now on my tail."

"Why did you become a pirate if you wanted to be free from the Navy?"

"The sea always looked like a place where I could be free," she admitted with a weak voice. The same tiny voice her younger self used to have when dreaming of a future.

Zoro knitted his eyebrows together and blinked, staring at the small beauty mark on her face he just noticed. He seemed deep in thought or rather trying to figure out the meaning of her words.

He was rarely so concentrated outside of critical situations like fights.

"Are you free now, then?"

With a gulp, she shook her head.

"No."

One word. One heavy weight on her soul.

"How do you wanna be free?" came another question from the swordsman.

"I have no clue."

The cage around her was a metaphor. She always felt like iron bars squeezed her tighter and tighter, until she broke down, a situation that occurred only a few times a year and was always hidden from prying eyes.

Realistically, there was no free place in that world. The Marine wasn't by any means as righteous as they wanted to look like and they were certainly not saviors. Of course, there were plenty of pirates that did nothing else but harm everyone and everything they laid eyes on. Some of them had ugly souls, dark and dirtied by greed.

However, there were plenty of people that were so-called pirates and yet never harmed unless they had to protect someone. Like Luffy or Usopp. They never took anyone's life.

Like her father.

She wasn't one of those pirates. The witch has killed people, even if never solely for blood thirst. Or, at least, not yet. She deserved to die, to never see the light of a new day.

A personal justice system — that's what she's always had, that's what she grew to learn about from the crew she left barely a year ago.

Deep down, she knew she would never be free. There was no liberty for a monster.

When she looked at Zoro, she also wanted him to taste freedom on his tongue. Maybe he already knew what that felt like.

If she couldn't find her own freedom, she could settle for protecting her friends' freedom. That would be more than enough, right?

"Aren't you at fault for your own lack of freedom?" Zoro pulled her out of her thoughts.

His question might've sounded as insensitive and accusing, but she was aware the swordsman didn't mean it that way. He always had his own way with words and, unfortunately, he got misinterpreted most of the time.

He was simply stating a probable truth.

Then I suppose I should get rid of my—

No. There was no time to think of such things, even if she was drunk and vulnerable. Admitting that to his face would be shameful of her.

Maybe she wasn't that ready to share secrets yet, was she?

"I most probably am," the witch whispered as she averted her eyes back to the sky splattered with stars. "At the end of the day, I'm the only one taking into account what others say and how they affect me."

She didn't know exactly how to pursue freedom, but she was certain of something else: if that beautiful future stood in front of her, Zoro was probably one of the ways to find out.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch wasn't able to find freedom if she died at that moment, with the blue hand of a fishman gripping at her throat. There was a lingering ache at the crown of her head from when he pushed her against the wall.

Her eyes squeezed shut while life seemed to slip from her hold, the same way her fingers lost their force while clutching onto the fishman's forearm. She had to find a way to get out of there, to breathe, because her lungs were already begging for some oxygen. Her vision was getting blurry and the pain in her entire throat spread like fire through her body.

Maybe it was because of her hyper-aware state, but she could swear the wound on her bicep was bloody again considering the sharp pain shooting through her arm.

No. There was no time to die and beg for forgiveness — and whose forgiveness could she ask for if she stays alive? Exactly. No one's.

The witch didn't know if she breathed in air or it just felt awfully familiar to that sensation, but her lungs suddenly swallowed something fresh and powerful. It ate the pain hungrily, destroying every doubt in her mind the more she thought of her promises, of the corpse of a father who still whispered in her dreams "go find your freedom".

The grip on the fishman's arm grew tighter, stronger, until her nails dug into the scales and penetrated them. Her fingers ached, the skin around her nails scratched harshly by the sharp broken scales. Fresh blood surfaced.

Her eyes opened up slowly, burning with each one of her promises, this time including her own — If I can't find freedom, I'll make it.

Every nerve in her body burnt and she tasted drugs on the tip of her tongue, an addiction threatening to clutch onto her and take control.

Power.

The witch has never been one to love power, to ache for it and yet, there she was, with a devil-like grin growing on her face.

Power.

It ate her alive and she loved that sensation. The steadiness of her heartbeats, the cage of ribs that broke to make place for that overwhelming feeling.

Power will never take control of me.

Her eyes bore holes through the fishman's entire being. There was no need for her revolver when two shining irises had the same effect.

Her vision and mind has never been clearer.

The fishman was struck. A weight settled on his shoulders, pulling him down, doubts flickering in his head.

Claws sank into his eyes, into his face and throat, clutching at his heart, threatening to pull it out of his chest.

The fishman stumbled and dropped her.

His strong grip on her throat left blooming red marks. They were ugly and her neck felt tender, but her nerves didn't register the pain properly because of the adrenaline running through her veins.

The witch immediately took the opportunity, despite the lack of air in her lungs. She crouched down to take her gun, but before she could shoot again, a loud sound got her attention.

The door of the restaurant broke at the floor underneath her when Luffy got thrown right into it by Arlong.

On the side of the stairs where Usopp crawled down was Sanji struggling to get back up after he cracked his back at the harsh contact with a table.

People were hiding under chairs and bars from the fishmen's wrath.

Her anger was fueled by each single detail. One of her shoulders felt light, while the other was heavy. The monster lurking inside her had one eye open — the same one that pushed her to cuss out Mihawk back when Zoro got a cut through his chest. The same monster she wouldn't trade anything for, because wrath has always been her forte.

The small flame of revenge started burning in the pits of her stomach. Steadily. Still vague, easy to control.

She ran down the stairs and passed by Usopp, who was at that moment helping Sanji get on his feet. The witch got out of Baratie, suddenly stopping in her tracks when she saw Arlong standing a few meters in front of her.

That fucker—

Luffy shouted something along the lines of Gum Gum and she knew that was his fight to deal with.

However, it was a fight she didn't know if he would win at that time, considering the way Arlong only turned his head to the side when he got punched in the face by Luffy's fists. The fishman spat blood on the wooden floor while he stepped closer and closer to the Straw Hat.

In a fraction, the punch Luffy received sent him flying in the sails of a boat and he fell down with a thud, grunting. It was stupid of him to provoke Arlong further, but Luffy has never been to give up or let his enemies feel the satisfaction of a victory without a proper fight.

The witch wondered if her captain didn't break a rib or two after being punched and thrown around for so long. He still had the energy to throw his fists into Arlong's face with all he's got, using his rubber arms to attack from meters away.

His Devil Fruit powers were definitely the only reason why he was alive.

But not for much longer.

Arlong muttered something with a growl and once he sank his hand in the water, the witch knew it wasn't going to end well.

The fishman didn't just splash Luffy; no, he soaked the Straw Hat to the bone and the hit with both sea water and brute force got Luffy to the ground. It was his biggest weakness.

The witch's eyes widened when she saw Arlong grabbing at Luffy's shirt and lifting him in the air, opening his mouth to reveal razor-sharp teeth.

Her feet carried her for only a second and she almost shouted out for Luffy out of despair — she would rather be stabbed in the stomach countless times than feel helpless again. Out of instinct, the hand holding the gun raised, aiming at—

"Arlong, wait!"

Nami.

The witch snapped her head towards her friend.

The orange-haired woman stomped her feet and came, leaving the Going Merry behind her. The tank-top she wore exposed a strange old tattoo on her left shoulder. She was clutching tightly onto a thin and long cylinder.

"I have it," she addressed Arlong. "I have the map."

The map.

"I got it for you, just like I said I would."

The witch blinked away the confusion that almost made her hazy and stepped in front of Nami, stopping her from moving forward.

"Nami," the witch knitted her eyebrows together. "What's going on?"

Nami's eyes held no clear emotion besides a flicker of anger.

"Exactly what you knew all along."

It was one of those times when the witch wished her tarot was wrong.

She shook her head, one of her hands gripping at Nami's wrist.

"Nami," the witch squeezed her friend's hand tighter, scared it would slip from between her fingers.

"Let go."

Nami snatched her arm out of the witch's hold and her jaw ticked. She wasn't only annoyed, there had to be more in her eyes.

"You cannot possibly tell me you want to do this," the witch insisted, stepping even closer, until she was one breath away from the navigator.

Their intense gazes clashed together and none of them let the walls fall.

"But here I am, ain't I?" Nami cocked an eyebrow.

When the orange-haired passed by, her shoulder collided harshly with the witch's who was still stuck in place.

No fucking way.

The witch needed time to think, she had to search for some clarification with her tarot cards. She needed more time to read the energy, to figure out the situation, to understand what, where, why and when. Nothing made sense and time passed by so fast she couldn't even process it all.

Luffy was so disoriented he didn't even pour enough force in his hands to get rid of Arlong's grip on the collar of his shirt.

"Nami?" he firmly spoke. "What are you doing?"

"I tried to tell you, Luffy," Nami continued walking towards him. "I was never on Your crew. I only joined up with you so I could steal the map."

"I don't believe that," Luffy denied.

"That's because you only believe what you want to believe. Doesn't make it true."

Nami, for fuck's sake, we both know you're lying—

The witch opened her mouth, ready to argue, to yell from the top of her lungs, but with one glance thrown to Arlong, she stopped. Saying the wrong thing might get Nami in great danger and she might lose credibility in front of him.

"Sister Nami's a loyal member of the Arlong Pirates," Arlong started speaking, pointing with his chin towards the one in question. "She has been for years."

The witch didn't know why she still protected Nami, but she was certainly not going to give up on her friend at that time.

Nami shoved the map in Arlong's nose to get his attention to her — or maybe the witch has gotten to another level of delusion.

"Why waste your time killing a Devil Fruit eater?" Nami reminded the fishman as if it wasn't a death sentence. "Let the sea do it for you."

"Nami, this is too far, cut the crap—" the witch revolted immediately.

Before she could make any step towards Luffy, she was grabbed by the back of her neck and launched into the wall of Baratie with sheer force — it was one of Arlong's asshole crewmates. She groaned in pain and squeezed her eyes. The shoulder she fell on sent sharp spikes through the entire left side of her body.

She cussed out, struggling to get back to her feet when Arlong let Luffy drown in the sea. The witch let out a shout of the Straw Hat's name and one of her knees betrayed her, resulting in another unceremonious fall to the ground.

Lucky for her, an arm curled around her front to help her up, a silver ring resting on the finger of the man.

"Luffy fell in the water, go now!" she didn't even wait to be properly raised to her feet to urge Sanji to jump.

Her aching body and the lack of strength wouldn't help her get Luffy out of the sea. She didn't even clearly notice when the cook left her side and jumped into the sea, too caught up in the agitation inside of her. Events passed by her faster than light. All she saw was a discarded shirt.

She wasn't sure because of what powers she managed to walk on the deck, at the edge where the other two should appear from under the water. Her head turned when she recognized Usopp from her peripherals.

"Luffy?" he asked, panic building up as his hands shook.

The witch would have responded if not for the answer to appear right under their noses. Sanji held Luffy tightly by the collar and pushed him on the dock with Usopp's help who dragged him.

The witch extended her hand to bring Sanji on the dock with them and since then, things turned blurry despite her open eyes.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Now the only woman in the crew, the witch sat on the floor in the room that used to be Nami's, her back leaning back against the wooden wall. With eyes devoid of life, she stared up at the ceiling while pulling her knees closer to her chest, once again trying to hide herself from everyone. From everything.

On Nami's bed there was still an inert swordsman and he didn't even flinch when she tentatively said his name after entering the room.

"Fucking dammit," she squeezed her eyes shut.

Nami left. Zoro was unconscious. Luffy almost drowned if not for Sanji. Usopp was bluffing about how "everything has to be alright".

She didn't know if he was trying to convince himself or her.

Because everything was wrong. It felt wrong.

The witch took in a deep breath, but only half of the oxygen she inhaled got to her lungs and brain because of her constricted throat. Tears were sitting on her waterline for the fourth time that day.

Too much happened since the crack of dawn and it wasn't even sunset.

Exhaustion made her look years older than she was. Her head fell forward, forehead hitting her knees before the light sneaking through the windows could fall on her face.

Tears filled with anguish ran down her cheeks and it was the first time she allowed herself to let at least an ounce of the weight on top of her body dissipate. The droplets of pain melted down her cheeks and sank into the material of her shirt.

The witch sneaked her arms around the back of her thighs and squeezed herself tighter in a ball, lips trembling. Her breathing was ragged not only because of the lump in her throat, but also because of the firm grip that fishman had on her neck. The skin was sensitive to the touch and it hurt to swallow.

Every event of that day got added one on top of another. Her fight with Zoro, the fact that he was unconscious after that dwell, Nami leaving just like the witch expected to.

Betrayal. Maybe I was a fool for trusting her.

Or am I?

Teeth sank so deeply into her lower lip it drew blood and she tasted copper on the tip of her tongue.

Pain. That was right.

The only right thing happening that day was the physical pain. Palpable, real, bringing her back to earth.

Except that time it failed, because the tears didn't stop. She squeezed her eyes shut as sharp pain traveled through her body, from her chest into her limbs, puncturing each nerve, shaking her to the core.

Her soul screamed, caged by sorrow, an ugly animal that sank its fangs into her flesh and ripped from the inside. Blood was pouring from her heart, soaking organs and bones, melting into the skin like acid. It burnt so fastly, yet it never seemed to end. With a throbbing head, she couldn't hold the pain back anymore.

However, no sound ever left her lips parted in a silent scream. No whimper, no sob, no cry for help. The room was filled with silence as a heartbeat drummed in her ears in an agonizing rhythm.

I shouldn't have come on this ship in the first place. Only if I had been wise enough to leave when I got the chance. Syrup Village was a perfect option, I could've gone on another ship and continued my mindless traveling. Why did I bother myself with this? Why did I suddenly decide it was a great idea to be part of another crew when this only has brought me suffering?

With each second, she willingly aimed the gun at herself and every word was like a bullet.

I should've left. I would've been happier. I should've left it all behind when I realized this won't go well. Fuck the premonitions, fuck the destiny, damned be the world.

A body stripped of clothes and skin, only burnt flesh left behind the monster's bites. Broken ribs and a shattered heart pumping a meaningless life.

As seconds passed by one after another and her tears came to an end, the gentle swinging of the ship pulled her into a half-asleep state.

She noticed when Luffy came into the room and she was aware of his position on Zoro's bed — the cracking of the wood gave him away. As the Straw Hat talked, she only heard the swordsman's name being spoken, some words here and there, but most of his monologue was muffled.

He probably thought she was asleep because of her slow and steady breathing.

Exhaustion was clawing at her muscles and brain, but something kept her aware of the surroundings for a few more minutes.

Everything turned pitch black in her perspective. A husky and deep voice made her believe she was dreaming, the tips of her mouth curling shily upwards.

Only if it would've been reality.

"Zoro!"

Her entire body flinched and she raised her head, wide eyed. If she didn't know any better, she would've said her soul jumped out of her.

"Luffy?" she whispered, confused on why he yelled the swordsman's name—

"You're not dead!" Luffy shouted again, loud enough for everyone in Baratie to hear.

He's alive? the witch thought to herself. I really heard his voice.

Luffy crawled on top of Zoro and squeezed the life out of him. Literally.

"Now I wish I was," she heard Zoro mumble between grunts.

He was alive.

The witch's lungs filled with fresh air for the first time that day. Relief washed over her and her body relaxed, shoulders deflating as some of the weight sitting on them fell into the sea below.

While leaning her body against the wall, she managed to get up just to get a better view of the swordsman who was squinting his eyes at the ceiling. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, head falling forward.

At least one thing went right, didn't it?

After Luffy got up from above Zoro, the swordsman managed to take some deep gulps of air, chest raising up and falling rhythmically.

"I had the strangest dream that Nami left," he said with a frown on his face as he closed his eyes.

"She did," the witch responded faintly.

There wasn't enough courage in her to look at him as she said that, instead choosing to glance at the window.

Zoro looked again at the ceiling and realized her voice was too faint for all of that to be a mere joke, a prank thrown at him for staying unconscious for… for how long?

"It's my fault," Luffy said with his chin lowered.

From the corner of his eye, Zoro saw the witch place a hand on their captain's shoulder.

"We'll find a way."

There was a promise etched onto her fragile smile. As if a simple brush of air or one wrong world could make her crumble.

But she didn't. Instead, she threw a knowing look to Zoro and silently told him to talk with Luffy. She knew the Straw Hat needed his first mate's support at that moment.

What confused Zoro the most was watching the witch get out of the room without too much of a word. Her hair bounced as she stepped further away from him and their friends. Even as his ribs and body hurt at every inhale, he wanted to understand the real reason for her leaving.

Last time they talked, she expressed worry. What happened in the meantime? What the fuck went wrong?

There was a fat chance she was still mad at him for whatever reason. Sure, she was calm, collected, but he could swear he's seen fire burning in her eyes more than just once and a grin splayed on her face at the thrill and adrenaline of a fight. She snapped at him when they fought and he had to admit it would've been sadder if she treated him with silence.

However, he didn't know if that was silence or something more.

Weird, he concluded.

His attention went back to Luffy. The swordsman couldn't manage watching the ever happy-go-lucky captain speak like a ghost.

"You didn't do anything wrong." He seriously hoped he could find the right words to bring Luffy back to reality.

There's no way that crew would fall apart without a proper fight. What has been was just the beginning.

"You acted like a captain."

"But the crew is falling apart," Luffy pulled his lips in a tight line.

"No, it's not," the green-haired firmly affirmed.

Maybe a lot more than Zoro thought has happened, but that was definitely not the end.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Before the sun could set and hide in the sea, they gathered some supplies for their new journey. They found out from the clown head — who they found out told Arlong where to find the Straw Hats — that Nami was most probably heading to Conomi Islands, specifically Cocoyashi Village. Sanji joined their crew, which made Luffy jump in excitement for the second time that day.

Luffy's folded arms were resting over the railing of Going Merry while he stared down at the water splashing against the ship.

"Does it always take so long?" Luffy spoke so softly.

Sanji chuckled with the fishing rod in his hand as he waited for a fish to catch the bait.

"We've only been here for two minutes, be patient," the cook reminded him. "Some days, they bite as soon as you drop the line and some days, it takes hours."

Then, he threw a knowing glance towards Luffy with an arch of his eyebrow.

"But we're not talking about fishing, are we?"

"I highly doubt it," the witch mumbled as she curled her fingers around her tarot deck.

She didn't dare to shuffle through the cards again, a side of her afraid of what was waiting for them. It felt uneasy everytime she got the impulse of taking the cards out and finding out which one of them holds the truth.

The witch was leaning with her back against the railing, not so far away from the Straw Hat, pressing her fingertips into the old box made of cardboard that fit perfectly in her hands.

Luffy smiled towards Sanji before he stared into the horizon with hope.

"I just want to know if Nami's okay."

"A beautiful, talented woman does not choose to ally herself with a pirate like Arlong," Sanji said firmly, convinced of his beliefs. "Nami clearly needs to be rescued."

The witch breathed in deeply and widened her eyes, trying to find the right words to tell them what she knew. A pair of heavy steps caught her attention and she immediately recognized the chiming filling the air.

Zoro. His hand was resting on his Wado Ichimoji — his only sword now.

"Her tattoo says different," he said.

The way he looked at the witch was bringing back to life some shattered pieces of her soul. He might look serene when sleeping, but he was better that way — wide awake and an asshole.

Also, he noticed something she couldn't pinpoint. There must've been a scar on her face, most probably. At first, he only stared at her face, just to lower his gaze. Oh. She didn't sleep for two days and got in a fight with a fishman, which left some nasty bruises on her bare neck.

"Well," Sanji argued, "tattoos don't tell the whole story. And like any woman, she's a mystery to be unraveled."

"Am I supposed to feel flattered?" the witch arched her eyebrow at the cook after she turned her head towards him.

Right at that moment, Zoro stepped between her and Luffy, restricting her view. All she could see was his chest, bandaged and with a red patch in the center.

"You should change your bandages," she looked up at him.

However, the witch was hesitant when she did so. As if the man in front of her could vanish in thin air.

Zoro turned to Sanji and decided to completely ignore her comment.

"Nami made her choice."

The cook immediately frowned, creases appearing on his forehead. His scowl was deeper than Zoro's.

"You don't know why," Sanji retorted.

As if getting snapped by Usopp, Zoro scoffed:

"The only thing I want to hear from you are dinner specials. You don't know Nami."

"Sounds like you don't know her either, Mosshead," Sanji spat with a taunting smile on his lips.

"Oh God, stop, you two," the witch sighed heavily, annoyed.

Just to get the swordsman's attention to her, she poked his back with the tip of her finger, digging deep enough to receive a light flinch. It seemed like she took him by surprise. She bent her back more as she continued resting her elbows on the railing to glance at Luffy over Zoro's shoulder.

"I'm sure Nami has her reasons," their captain nodded.

"I know Nami's reason."

All of their heads turned to the witch.

Usopp was just walking up the stairs of the forecastle when his eyes sparkled curiously.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Nami," Zoro said quickly. "Why didn't you say anything until now?" that time, his sharp words were directed to the witch.

The witch shot him a glare, displeased by his reaction. However, she would've acted the same if someone was to hide something so important.

"It would've felt unfair to tell you before talking with her," the witch clarified.

"You talked with her about it?" Usopp suddenly intervened, surprised by the news.

The witch gripped at the tarot deck in between her hands tighter and clicked her tongue, trying to find the best words to explain.

"I did. Somehow," uncertainty latched onto her voice.

None of them rushed her anymore so she took her time.

"Listen, this isn't as easy as it seems to be. Yes, Sanji, she didn't willingly get into Arlong's crew."

A snarky remark sat on the cook's tongue and he wanted to throw it Zoro's way.

"But," the witch continued in order to stop an eventual argument, "she's fully aware of her actions. She was forced by the circumstances to do what she's doing, but it doesn't mean she likes acting like Arlong's crewmate. Nami certainly hates him from the bottom of her heart. He did something. Something that forced her to act like she's a friend just to protect something or someone. Or both. She's not only protecting herself, she's protecting what's most dear to her heart."

It wasn't the witch that spoke, but the gut feeling she had. Her thoughts didn't seem so clear in months, since her last successful tarot reading. Now, as the significance of each card sank into her brain, she knew what everything meant.

It wasn't her that spoke, but her intuition.

"She's keeping us away because she's scared we'd get hurt, not only because we would get in her way. Nami cares about us and that's exactly why she's pushing us away."

"Who does that?" Zoro wondered out loud.

Maybe he should've kept that to himself.

"You do that," the witch's head snapped towards him. "I do it. And Nami does. She said she tricked us — which was true. At the same time, she's tricking Arlong. He isn't her crewmate, he's an asshole that stole something from her—"

The witch got so carried away she didn't even realize what she just said. She suddenly furrowed her eyebrows into the void and received confused looks from her friends.

"He stole something. Her freedom."

Those words were said as she actively figured the details out, staring into the void.

"Witch?" Usopp nudged her.

"Yes?" she turned towards him.

"Did she tell you all these things?"

There was a light chuckle that left her lips at that question.

"The cards did. Her reactions just gave her away and answered my doubts."

The witch knew what games she was playing. She's been doing these things for years and not only — she trusted her gut feeling above everything else.

She received an especially confused look from the cook, who had no clue why she was called a witch. He probably supposed it was because she was beautiful or maybe secretive.

He should've taken that nickname literally.

"What do we do then?" Zoro turned his head towards their captain.

Luffy listened intently to everything the witch had to say and he made up his mind since long ago:

"I want to hear her decision for myself."

"That's for the best," the witch nodded.

There was more she would've liked to say, but speaking from the gut was both easier than usual and harder when tired. Considering the last time she got some proper sleep was before they got attacked by the Marines, she could say it's been long enough for her mind to get clouded.

Stuck in her thoughts as she was, the grip on her tarot deck loosened up and the object fell from her hold on the wooden floor. The witch's exhausted brain registered that too many seconds later.

A deep frown appeared between her eyebrows, blinking in an attempt to clear her vision while she bent down to take the deck in her hand.

Obviously, she failed.

When her back was straight again, her vision went pitch black and a heavy throbbing settled in her temples. The ship swayed worse than a second ago. She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed.

The witch has been in that situation before. She stood still, because attempting to walk would've ended in a passionate kiss with the floor.

When the sensations dissipated little by little, tiredness was everything left behind.

"I'm gonna get some rest," she mumbled, the words a little slurred.

With her eyes now opened wide enough to see where she's heading, she walked towards the stairs and cussed them out one by one.

Falling like an idiot wasn't on her to-do list for that day.

By some miracle, she managed to walk all the way into the galley. The room she shared with Nami was hers, but it was too far away. Her feet barely carried her to the dark red sofa she let her body fall on like a sack.

She didn't care about the clothes she hasn't changed from, too caught up with everything that has happened. There was enough time for a shower later, when exhaustion wasn't seeping into her bones. The only thing she had the decency to do was to take her boots off.

She stretched her legs and put an arm under her head, resting on her side to face the room. Not the most comfortable place to sleep in, but after all of that tumult, nothing mattered anymore.

The sweet sound of jingling disturbed her again.

Oh, god dammit.

She was one breath away from cussing Zoro's ass and his earrings — despite being in ecstasy that he woke up. The witch, as if expecting his next move, bent her knees to make space for him. The swordsman plopped himself down with a grunt at the other side of the sofa and her bare feet touched his thigh.

She didn't dare mutter a word about his presence. Zoro could stay. Gosh, as she was thinkingln about it, she could only believe it was a blessing he wasn't only awake, but also throwing remarks her way.

It was so much better than telling stories of her past to an unconscious Mosshead.

Right.

The edges of her mouth curled in a smile.

"What?"

"Mosshead," she chuckled, eyes still closed.

Zoro let out a scoff and she could imagine him rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Didn't you say you were going to rest?"

His voice was unusually low and even soft, pulling her towards the dreamland.

"I'd say this place is perfect," she mumbled.

The witch didn't bother to explain she was tired out of her mind or that her feet would most likely betray her if she dared to get up.

The silence was filled with their breathing and the sounds of the water splashing against their ship, the cracks of the wood. She remembered the times when she traveled with her father's crew and she would many times fall asleep curled next to a barrel while the vice-captain was still singing sea shanties in the middle of the night.

"Zoro," the witch whispered.

She was too weary to care about what left her mouth. It acted like alcohol — it clouded her mind and she felt shameless.

"What if I wouldn't have stepped on this ship?"

That question plagued her mind and she finally said it out loud.

"So the last ship was more to your taste?" he snickered. "It almost sank in the sea."

"You're such an ass," and while that phrase might've sounded harsh in the past, at that moment it was filled with fondness.

"Been told that before."

I really missed that voice.

"For someone with a big ass bruise on your neck, you sound more like a coward than I thought."

Maybe she deserved that serious tone thrown her way. Was he right? Only halfway through.

"No," she was stubborn enough to fight the sleep for a few more minutes. "What if I would've been happier? Y'know, less worries, no people to haunt my ass. No anxiety."

No crying over you for being almost dead.

The continuation sat on the tip of her tongue and got swallowed back with a gulp. Was there really a need for an admission? Puffy eyelids and dark circles under her eyes, chapped lips and bandages around her forearm soaked in blood. Those details were enough proof.

"Do you hate us that much?" his low voice sent shivers down her spine.

"It's not about that. Just…" she gulped and curled her fingers around the tarot deck she was still holding onto. "I want some peace."

"I say you should get some sleep."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Standing on the deck felt right, even if the witch doesn't remember why she was there. She can't point out the weather clearly, it feels blurry. Seconds ago she was in the kitchen talking with Sanji about some unusual topic she couldn't remember.

Then why was she suddenly on the deck, face to face with a kneeling Zoro who had two swords piercing through his upper body from behind? She didn't only know it was him, she felt like it was him, as if the pieces connecting in her head were just right. However, it horrified her. Everything around him was blurry except for him.

Him, whose essence of life was pouring down his body, creating a puddle under him, sinking into the cracks of the wooden floor. The crimson liquid melted into his white t-shirt. Now that she was looking better at it, she noticed the sharp point of a sword penetrating all the way through his stomach to the front side of his body.

He was looking up at her, despite the way his chin was tilted down. Those sharp brown eyes were boring holes through her. His beautiful irises painted with the warm nuances of chocolate and coffee were scary, like no other time.

Was Luffy next to her? It feels like it was him, even if she can only distinguish a silhouette in the corner of her right eye.

Why was Zoro looking at her like that? She couldn't move, as if her feet were stuck in place. She didn't know if she was breathing or if she was alive anymore. She didn't know why she was on the deck, why those swords took his life away. It barely made any sense that he had enough energy to stare at her.

He didn't falter once. He didn't beg for help, her name didn't come out of his mouth, no groans, no nothing.

She couldn't move. As she stood in the same place, her anxiety was rising up, up, up, until she felt like panicking despite the lack of reaction. She felt like exploding, but she couldn't express those horrific feelings.

She couldn't help him. Her arms were stuck by the sides of her body, as if someone had put a spell on her. She had the will to move her legs, to get closer to him, she wanted to, but she remained glued in that spot. She couldn't feel her body.

She had to do something, but she was trapped inside an unmoving object that was her own body. Why?

Everything snapped.

The smallest hope towards an escape woke her up. Her eyes opened instantly and she raised up in a sitting position, eyes frantically searching for more clues, for answers about the horrifying images she just saw before her eyelids.

Her heart was beating so fast it made her wish she didn't have it at all, a deafening ba-dump repeating in her eardrums over and over again.

Unfortunately, she was face to face with the swordsman she dreamt of. Instantly, as if she was shot, she looked at his upper abdomen. For no more than two seconds, she saw a big black patch on his bandages.

She inhaled deeply and her heart was beating faster, suddenly unable to release that breath of air. Her eyes widened and her hands shook, chest tight.

"Hey," she heard more of a background sound.

She blinked countless times, until her tired brain figured out that it was just her imagination. It was so dark in the room and her nightmare was a shock, the reason why at some point the patch started blurring out, inviting her to blink until it turned to be one small spot. It has been there since he woke up from his slumber.

When the realization sank in, she let go of that breath and let out a pitiful whimper. Deep inside, it felt like relief, her eyes now squeezed shut.

This time, he clearly called her name after his fingers securely gripped at her shaking shoulders, avoiding her wound. Her hands were trembling, her entire being disturbed.

Zoro said her name, not the nickname she got so used to hearing on that ship. Not the usual Witch, a word that sounded so endearing coming from her crewmates; no, it was her name and it was spoken so softly she could've confused him for someone else.

She had a poor attempt at recalling those images in order to figure out the reality, but it backfired. The bloody scene stuck before her closed eyes pushed her to open them up again.

Thankfully, his dark gaze was warm, filled with unspoken worry. For a brief moment she wondered how he woke up, since he slept like the dead sometimes.

"I'm surprised I managed to wake you up," her voice trembled.

He didn't joke back at her. Instead, his thumbs started rubbing slow circles into her shoulders in order to bring her back to earth. Or, better said, back to the ship that was peacefully sailing on the sea during the night.

"I think you should correct your breathing," he pointed out.

Once she changed from autopilot breathing, it felt like her throat was tight.

"Breathe in."

Blindly, she trusted his instructions. That mere breath shook her again, feeling shivers when she allowed the oxygen to sink into her lungs, the same way his voice sank into her being, in the cracks of her soul.

It took a few minutes until that normal bodily process didn't seem like an impossible task. Her muscles were tense until Zoro squeezed her shoulders again.

She could distinguish more of his face than just the warmth she noticed not long ago. His expression seemed pained with worry and not from a wound that could kill him, even if there still were bandages wrapped around his torso. Maybe it was also fear that made him look so different from usual; or was it confusion?

"I'm sorry for destroying your sleep."

It was half a lie. She wasn't sorry about the touch keeping her afloat, about how she managed to breathe again only because of his presence, because he was clearly awake and alive. At the same time, she knew he needed to rest so his wound could heal properly.

"Be serious," he huffed in a lower voice, clearly displeased.

"I am. You should sleep."

"Just like you should, but I doubt you will."

"I'd argue about that."

She was still tired, even if her shock from earlier struck her like thunder. Her eyes could close at any moment, which she feared, because another nightmare didn't sound good even for how stress resistant she became.

Since he heard her soft whimper when she was still sleeping, he had no clue what to do, how to act. One thing was clear: it was better to wake her up, despite the possibility she might get defensive and attack.

Alright, now what the heck do I do? He's had nightmares before, he's seen horrendous things during his sleep countless times, but he didn't have any idea about what to do for her. Was he even supposed to do something? She didn't like being pampered — maybe he should act like nothing happened. However, the fear coloring her face earlier shocked him as well. The witch has always been collected, she had such a firm grip on her reactions it was annoying sometimes.

The swordsman shook his head, but didn't let go of her. Instead, he leaned against the cushions on his side, while his hands fell down to her forearms to get a comfortable position of his limbs and upper body. The wound on his chest sent daggers through him at each movement. Barely a day of consciously dealing with it and he's already got annoyed.

The witch looked down at where their bodies were connected. His long calloused fingers were securely wrapped around her arms, close to her wrists. When did her legs end up in his lap she didn't know. Her bare knee tingled with warmth — why?

"You had a weird reaction after you woke up," his whisper stirred something in her heart.

"What do you mean? I had plenty of reactions."

Are you playing the idiot with me? Zoro thought.

"You were more scared of seeing me than of the nightmare."

"Oh."

Why did the Mosshead have to be so observant? It was one of the reasons why she was attracted to him, evidently, but sometimes he exposed her too easily.

She dropped her chin and looked down at her own hands. Admitting that she feared his role as the main character of a tragedy for the second time felt embarrassing for some unknown reason. She's been in enough humiliating situations and he never ridiculed her.

Zoro was utterly stuck. Was he supposed to move away? His body felt too heavy to get off the sofa and go to his room. It wouldn't be alright leaving her alone with her crippling anxiety either, considering she was prone to overthinking.

He wanted to do something, but what?

He let out a long sigh and rested his head against the cushions, his fingers still curled around her wrists. Her pulse was fast, but as seconds passed by, it slowed down under the weight of his thumbs.

The witch became hyper aware of the situation, but it felt too good to move away. Her tired brain entirely registered his presence and her eyes closed. She breathed in the chill air of the night and, while focusing so intently on Zoro's presence, she fell into a deeper state of mind, half asleep.

He was disturbed from his own journey into the dream realm when he felt a light weight on his shoulder. Once his eyes opened, he saw the cause: she leaned in closer to him, clearly unaware.

He smelled like the sea and the familiar scent of soap clung to the unbuttoned blue t-shirt he wore. With her forehead resting against his neck, the witch could vaguely point out his pulse. The safety of his embrace lulled her into a dreamless sleep while she focused on his slow breathing and the secure grip he had on her.

Zoro filled her senses so fiercely it was impossible not to melt into him, inhaling and exhaling in sync with him.

The swordsman had different sentiments about this and they were all confusing.

What am I doing? he scolded himself.

He moved his head and angled his face so he could look at the right side of her sleeping face. With long eyelashes resting over her soft cheeks, she looked like she didn't have a worry in the world, even if he knew better. Her shoulders would rise and fall rhythmically in such a slow pace, making him wonder what exactly exhausted her so much.

Then, his gaze fell on the purple marks on her neck and his jaw clenched. If he would've been awake when Arlong appeared at Baratie, maybe none of them would be like that. Maybe he would've had enough stubbornness to get answers from Nami and maybe Luffy wouldn't have been so close to drowning. Maybe those marks on her neck wouldn't have been there in the first place.

What the fuck am I doing?

Giving up, he rested his head back against the cushions with a scowl. He didn't understand himself and it was even harder to understand the woman sleeping so peacefully, too close to him.

Zoro let out a low displeased sound and closed his eyes, deciding to rest for a while. He didn't dare move away or wake her up either.

First and foremost he was displeased about the fact that he liked the proximity.

I wonder what that fishman's face looks like. It'll surely be a pleasure to slice him in half.

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58 @katiemrty @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @freyademartel @boofy1998 @ponyboys-sunsets @melsunshine @loveyluv7 @waddlingwanderer @jesssssmaybankk @nadlx33333 @yoong1c0re @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mizzy-pop @zoromyluv

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saradika · 8 months

Text

Masterlist Headers + Matching Divider Sets

edit: as of 11/20/23 this will no longer be updated - please go to @saradika-graphics for requests & new resources!

FANDOMS

Star Wars

— Andor (The Eye)

— Dark Blue (& R2D2)

— Din Djarin

— Din Djarin & Boba-themed (Star Wars)

— Endor (Forest)

— Pastel Colors

— Pink/Mauve (Star Wars)

— Poe Dameron

— Red & Orange-themed

Marvel/DC

— The Batman

— Blue Beetle

— Bucky Barnes

— Marvel Inspired

— Loki Inspired

— Miguel O’Hara

Games/Series

— Astarion (BG3)

— Call Of Duty

— House of the Dragon

— The Last Of Us

AESTHETICS

— Ace (Moon/Stars)

— Alchemy

— Bi-Pride Colors

— Blush Romantic

— Burgundy & Gold

— Constellations (Blue/Green)

— Cottagecore / Dark Academia

— Forest-themed

— Golden-themed

— Halloween

— Hyacinth

— Maroon/Purple Witch

— Misty Forests

— Orange-themed

— Seasonal Aesthetic

— Skulls & Lace / Skeletons

— Taupe and Teal

— Yellow-themed

✨(Everything was made in and using Canva - so definitely check that app out if you’re looking to make your own! Here, here, here and here are some tips on using the app / making graphics if you haven’t before!) (and credit is not required but a reblog would be great if you use! 💕) ✨

#pulled from canva colored/arranged by me #dividers #fic dividers #graphics #masterlist headers #tumblr dividers #headers

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vladdyissues · 4 months

Text

We Have A Problem

Danny could scarcely contain his excitement. After eight long months, the wait was finally over: Tonight was the premiere of the hotly-anticipated new television docuseries, Knowing Universe.

The product of decades of research and collaborative efforts from the world’s greatest minds—astronomers, physicists, astronauts, engineers—Knowing Universe was rumored to have had a production budget somewhere in the hundreds of millions and boasted the latest advancements in computer graphics and long-range photography. New lenses had to be fitted to NASA’s telescopes to provide viewers with high-resolution images. Helmed by a famous Hollywood director and scored by Hans Zimmer, Knowing Universe was expected to go down in history as the most pivotal science documentary ever created, eclipsing even Carl Sagan’s beloved Cosmos.

A year ago Danny would have eschewed such blasphemy, but the litany of promos and sneak peeks on The Science Channel had finally won him over. It was all he had talked about for the past month.

Every member of the Fenton family knew what a monumental occasion this was to Danny, and had marked their calendars accordingly. With the big day finally here, a festive atmosphere descended upon Fenton Works. Pizza was ordered. Living room furniture was rearranged around the TV, the windows blacked out with construction paper. Glittery blue streamers festooned the ceiling. Glow-in-the-dark stars and meteors spackled the wall. Jack made three enormous batches of “galaxy brownies”, a regular brownie recipe but studded with white chocolate morsels and multicolored candy sprinkles. Maddie and Jazz took care of the music, arranging a playlist consisting of space-themed songs that featured such hits as David Bowie’s Space Oddity and anything by Daft Punk. Sam brought over a tray of veggies that had been cut into star shapes, and Tucker had printed out cards for an astronomy-themed parlor game to play while they waited.

At eight o’clock the lights were dimmed. Everyone gathered in front of the TV. Danny, hyped out on too much sugar, grinned like a maniac, practically vibrating with anticipation.

Sam passed a smirk to Tucker. “I think we know what to get him for his birthday this year.”

“Yeah,” Tucker laughed. “Posters, t-shirts, the DVD set—”

“Shh, shh,” Danny hissed. “It’s starting!”

Six pairs of eyes glued themselves to the opening sequence: a panning, high-definition shot of Earth, complemented by a gentle, sustained note on flute. Then, a voice:

“For as long as humanity has existed, we have looked to the stars…”

The ecstatic grin slid off Danny’s face.

It wasn’t David Attenborough’s educated gravel, or Neil deGrasse Tyson’s friendly, conversational baritone. No, this voice was intimately familiar, lightly accented, arrogant, with phlegmy fricatives and a rolling, almost musical modulation.

Tucker clapped his hand over his mouth. Sam goggled at the screen.

“Oh, my God, no,” Danny murmured.

Jack Fenton popped to attention. “Hey! That’s Vladdie!”

“No.”

“Vlad’s narrating the show!”

“No.”

“Hey, Danny, isn’t this—”

Outside Fenton Works, a howl rose over the rooftops, and every dog in the neighborhood took up the call:

“NOOOOO!”

Read on AO3

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #hjbwrites #dp fanfiction #humor #this is a long way to go for a joke but

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otherworlds-inside-my-mind · 9 months

Text

Xenofiction (& similar) Media Masterpost

PS. This list is for keeping track only. This is not a recommendation list and I won't be advocating for any Work, Author or Company listed. There will be footnotes about a work/author for undesirable behaviour or themes if necessary.

This is a WIP and will be updated whenever I have the time to. Feel free to recommend works or inform me about an author so I can update the post. Be Aware works on this list might have been cancelled or on indifinitive Hiatus and not all works are available on English.

Sections:

Literature

Comic Books & Graphics Novels

Picture Books

Indie Written Works

Webcomics

Manga

Animated Series

Live-Action & Hybrid shows

Webseries

Short Films

Animated Films

Live Action & CGI Assisted Movies

Documentary

Theather

Videogames

Online Browser Games

Table Top Games

Music

Other Online Projects

Youtubers

Gen. Videos

Worlds

Franchises

To search is Ctrl + F (Windows) or Command-F (MacOS), on phone browser you have "Find in page" (Drop menu at top right)

Literature

Age of Fire - E. E. Knight

Adventure Lit their Star - Kenneth Allsop

Alien in a Small Town - Jim Cleaveland

Alien Chronicles (Literature) - Deborah Chester

Animal Farm - George Orwell

Animorphs - K. A. Applegate

Am an Owl - Martin Hocke

At Winters End - Robert Silverberg

Avonoa - H.R.B. Collotzi

Astrid and Cerulean: A Parrot Fantasy - Parasol Marshall-Crowley

A Wolf for a Spell - Karah Sutton

The African Painted Wolf Novels - Alexander Kendziorski

The Alchemist's Cat - Robin Jarvis

The Amazing Maurice and his educated rodents - Terry Pratchet

The Amity Incident - C. M. Weller

The Ancient Solitary Reign - Martin Hocke

The Animals of Farthing Wood series - Colin Dann

The Art of Racing in the Rain - Garth Stein

The Author of Acacia Seeds and Other Extracts from the Journal of Therolinguistics - Ursula K. Le Guin

A Magical Cat Named Kayla: Whiskers of Enchantment -Carlos Juárez [AI Cover]*

The Animal Story Book - Various Authors [Editor: Andrew Lang]

Abenteuer im Korallenriff - Antonia Michaelis [DE]

Bambi: A life in the forest & Bambi Children - Felix Salten

Bamboo Kingdom series - Erin Hunter

Bazil Broketail - Christopher Rowley

Beak of the Moon & Dark of the Moon - Philip Temple

Bears of the Ice series - Kathryn Lasky

Beasts of New York - Jon Evans

Beautiful Joe - Margaret Marshall Saunders

Beyond Acacia Ridge - Amy Clare Fontaine

Birddom - Clive Woodall

Black Beauty - Anna Sewell

Blitzcat - Robert Westall

Blizzard Winds - Paul Koch

Books of the Raksura - Martha Wells

Braver: A Wombat's Tale - Suzanne Selfors & Walker Ranson

Bravelands series- Erin Hunter

Broken Fang - Rutherford Montgomery

Bunnicula series - Deborah Howe & James Howe

Burning Stars - Rurik Redwolf

A Black Fox Running - Brian Carter

A Blue So Loud - Tuesday

The Ballard of The Belstone Fox - David Rook

The Bear - James Curwood

The Bees - Laline Paull

The Biography of a Silver Fox - Ernest Thompson Seton

The Blue Cat of Castle Town - Catherine Cate Coblentz

The Book Of Chameleons - José Eduardo Agualusa

The Book of the Dun Cow - Walter Wangerin Jr.

The Book of Night with Moon - Diane Duane

The Books of the Named series - Clare Bell

The Bug Wars - Robert Asprin

Call of the wild - Jack London

Callanish - William Horwood

Catwings - Ursula K. Le Guin

Cat Diaries: Secret Writings of the MEOW Society - Betsy Byars, Betsy Duffey & Laurie Myers

Cat House - Michael Peak

Cat Pack - Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

Cats in the city of Plague - A.L Marlow

Celestial Heir series - Chester Young

Charlotte's Web - E. B. White

Chet and Bernie mysteries - Spencer Quinn

Chia The Wildcat - Joyce stranger

Child of the Wolves - Elizabeth Hall

Clarice the Brave - Lisa McMann

Cry of the Wild - Charles Foster

Coyote's Wild Home - Barbara Kingsolver; Lily Kingsolver & Paul Mirocha

Crocuta - Katelyn Rushe

Coorinna: A Novel of the Tasmanian Uplands - Erle Wilson

Cujo - Steven King

The Calatians Series - Tim Susman

The Cats of Roxville station - Jean Craighead Georde

The Chanur Novels - C. J. Cherryh

The Cold Moons - Aeron Clement

The Color of Distance || Through Alien Eyes - Amy Thomson

The Conquerors - Timothy Zahn

The Council of Cats - R. J. F.

The Cricket in Times Square - George Selden

The Crimson Torch - Angela Holder

The Crossbreed - Allan Eckert

The Crucible of Time - John Brunner

Darkeye series - Lydia West

Deadlands: The Hunted - Skye Melki-Wegner

Demon of Undoing - Andrea I. Alton

Desert Dog - Jim Kjelgaard

Dinotopia - James Gurney, Alan Dean Foster

Doglands - Tim Willocks

Dimwood Forest series - Avi

A Dog's Life: The Autobiography of a Stray - Ann M. Martin

A Dog's Porpoise Duology - M. C. Ross

Dogs of the Drowned City - Dayna Lorentz

A Dog's Purpose series - W. Bruce Cameron

Dolphin Way: Rise of the Guardians - Mark Caney

Domino - Kia Heavey

Douglas' Diary - Andrew John

DragonFire series - Lewis Jones Davies

Dragon Fires Rising - Marc Secchia

Dragon Hoard and Other Tales of Faerie - Cathleen Townsend

Dragons and Skylines series - Rowan Silver

Dragon Prayers - M.J. McPike

Dragons of Mother Stone series - Melissa McShane

Dragon Girls Series - Maddy Mara

The Deptford Mice series - Robin Jarvis

The Dogs of the Spires series - Ethan Summers

The Dragons of Solunas series - H. Leighton Dickson

The Duncton Chronicles - William Horwood

The Destiny of Dragons - J.F.R. Coates

The Diary Of A House Cat - Ileana Dorobantu

Dogtown - Katherine Applegate & Gennifer Choldenko

Die schwarze Tigerin - Peer Martin [DE]

Die weiße Wölfin - Vanessa Walder [DE]

Die Wilden Hunde Von Pompeii - Helmut Krausser [DE]

Das wilde Mäh - Vanessa Walder [DE]

The Eyes and the Impossible - Dave Eggers

Eclosión - Arturo Balseiro [ES]

Ein Seehund findet nach Hause - Antonia Michaelis [DE]

Fantastic Mr. Fox - Roald Dahl

Faithful Ruslan - Georgi Vladimov

Feather and Bone: The Crow Chronicles - Clem Martini

Feathers & Flames series - John Bailey

Felidae series (1) - Akif Pirinçci

Fifteen Rabbits - Felix Salten

Fire, Bed & Bone - Henrietta Branford

Fire of the Phoenix - Azariah Jade

Fluke - James Herbert

Firefall series - Peter Watts

Firebringer - David Clement-Davies

Flush: A Biography Book - Virginia Woolf

Fox - Glyn Frewer

Foxcraft series - Inbali Iserles

Frightful’s Mountain - Jeanie Craighead George

Frost dancers: A story of hares - Garry Kilworth

The Familiars series - Adam Jay Epstein

The Fifth - Saylor Ferguson

The Firebringer series - Meredith Ann Pierce

The Fox and The Hound - Daniel P. Mannix

Freundschaft im Regenwald - Peer Martin [DE]

(1) Felidae's Author - Akif Pirinçci - is known to be a Xenophobic, Anti-muslim, Anti-Lgbt and Extreme Right-Wing guy (A N4zi by his on words). Won't be going onto details just know he has a non-fiction work called "Germany Gone Mad: The Crazy Cult around Women, Homosexuals and Immigrants." His works has been out of print ever since.

Guardian Cats and the lost books of Alexandria - Rahma Krambo

Guardians of Ga'Hoole series - Kathryn Lasky

Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Griffin Quest - Sophie Torro

Gryphon Insurrection series - K. Vale Nagle

The Ghost and It's Shadow - Shaun Hick

The Golden Eagle - Robert Murphy

The Golem and the Jinni - Helene Wecker

The Good Dog - Newbery Medalist

The Guardian Herd series - Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

The Goodbye Cat - Hiro Arikawa

The Great Timbers - James A. Kane

Haunt Fox - Jim Kjelgaard

Haven: A Small Cat's Big Adventure - Megan Wagner Lloyd

Heavenly Horse series - Mary Stanton

Hive - Ischade Bradean

Horses of Dawn series - Kathryn Lasky

House of Tribes - Garry Kilworth

Hunter's Moon/Foxes of First dark - Garry Kilworth

Hunters Universe series - Abigail Hilton

A Hare at Dark Hollow - Joyce Stranger

The Hundred and One Dalmatians & The Starlight Barking - Dodie Smith

The Hunt for Elsewhere - Beatrice Vine

Hollow Kingdom Duology - Kira Jane Buxton

I am a Cat - Natsume Sōseki

I, Scheherezade: Memoirs of a Siamese Cat - Douglass Parhirst

In the Long Dark - Brian Carter

The Incredible Journey - Sheila Burnford

Im Reich der Geparde - Kira Gembri [DE]

Joe Grey series - Shirley Rousseau Murphy

Jonathan Livingston Seagull - Richard Bach & Russell Munson

Julie of the Wolves - Jeanie Craighead George

The Jungle Book - Rudyard Kipling

Journey to the West - Wu Cheng'en

Kävik the Wolf Dog - Walt Morey

Kazan duology - James Curwood

Kine - Alan Lloyd

Kona's Song - Louise Searl

The Killers - Daniel P. Mannix

Kindred of the Wild - Charles G.D Roberts

König der Bären - Vanessa Walder [DE]

Lassie Come-Home - Eric Knight

Last of the Curlews - Fred Bodsworth

Lazy Scales - D.M. Gilmore

Legends of Blood series - Ethan Summers

A Legend of Wolf Song - George Stone

Luna the Lone Wolf - Forest Wells

Lupus Rex - John Carter Cash

Lutapolii: White Dragon of the South - Deryn Pittar

The Last Unicorn - Peter S. Beagle

The Labrador Pact & The Last Family in England - Matt Haig

The Last Dogs - Christopher Holt

The Last Eagle - Daniel P. Mannix

The Last Great Auk - Allan Eckert

The Last Monster on Earth - L.J. Davies

The Life Story of a Fox - J. C. Tregarthen

The Lost Rainforest series - Eliot Schrefer & Emilia Dziubak

The Lost Domain - Martin Hocke

The Last Whales: A Novel - Lloyd Abbey

Mammoth Trilogy - Stephen Baxter

Manxmouse: The Mouse Who Knew No Fear - Paul Gallico

Marney the Fox - Scott Goodall & John Stokes

Mattie: The story of a hedgehog - Norman Adams, & G.D. Griffiths

Matriarch: Elephant vs. T-Rex - Roz Gibson

Migon - P.C. Keeler

Minado The Devil - Dog - Erle Wilson

Monkey Wars - Richard Kurti

The Mistmantle chronicles - M.I. McAllister

The Mountain Lion - Robert Murphy

The Mouse Butcher - Dick King-Smith

The Mouse Protectors Series - Olly Barrett

Maru - Die Reise der Elefanten - Kira Gembri [DE]

New Springtime series - Robert Silverberg

Nightshade Chronicles - Hilary Wagner

Nugly - M. C. Ross

Nuru und Lela - Das Wunder der Wildnis - Kira Gembri [DE]

Old One-Toe - Michel-Aimé Baudouy

Of Birds and Branches - Frances Pauli

Outlaw Red - Jim Kjelgaard

The Old Stag - Henry Williamson

The One and Only Ivan - Katherine Applegate

Painted Flowers - Caitlin Grizzle

Pax & Pax: Journey Home - Sara Pennypacker

Petrichor - C.E. Wright

The Plague Dogs - Richard Adams

The Pit - Elaine Ramsay

Pride Wars - Matt Laney

A Pup Called Trouble - Bobbie Pyron

The Peregryne Falcon - Robert Murphy

Pork and Others - Cris Freddi

Queen in the Mud - Maari

Quill and Claw series - Kathryn Brown

Rak: The story of an Urban Fox - Jonathon Guy

Rats of Nimh series - Robert C. O'Brien

Raven Quest - Sharon Stewart

Raptor Red - Robert T. Bakker

Red Fox - Charles G. D. Roberts

Redwall series - Brian Jacques

Rose in a Storm - Jon Katz

Rufus - Rutherford Montgomery

Run With the Wind series - Tom McCaughren

Runt - Marion Dane Baeur

Rustle in the Grass - Robin Hawdon

Rusty - Joyce Stranger

The Remembered War series - Robert Vane

The Rescuers series - Margery Sharp

The Red Stranger - David Stephen

The River Singers & The Rising - Tom Moorhouse

The Road Not Taken - Harry Turtledove,

The Running Foxes - Joyce Stranger

Revier der Raben - Vanessa Walder [DE]

Salar the Salmon - Henry Williamson

Scary Stories for Young Foxes Duology - Christian McKay Heidicker

Scaleshifter series - Shelby Hailstone Law

Scream of the White Bears - David Clement-Davies

Seekers saga - Erin Hunter

Serpentia Series - Frances Pauli

Shadows in the Sky - Pete Cross

Shark Wars Series - EJ Altbacker

Silverwing series - Kenneth Oppel

Silver Brumby series - Elyne Mitchell

Sirius - Olaf Stapledon

Solo's Journey - Joy Aiken Smith

Sky Hawk - Gill Lewis

Snow Dog - Jim Kjelgaard

Song of the River - Soinbhe Lally

Spirit of the West series - Kathleen Duey

Survivors series - Erin Hunter

Stray - A.N Wilson

String Lug the Fox - David Stephen

Swashbuckling Cats: Nine Lives on the Seven Seas - Rhonda Parrish & Co.

Swordbird series - Nancy Yi Fan

The Sheep-Pig - Dick King-Smith

The Sight & Fell - David Clement-Davies

The Silent Sky - Allan Eckert

The Silver Claw - Garry Kilworth

The Stoner Eagles - William Horwood

The Stink Files - Jennifer L. Holm & Jonathan Hamel

The Snowcat Prince - Dina Norlund

The Story Of A Seagull And The Cat Who Taught Her To Fly - Luis Sepúlveda

The Story of a Snail Who Discovered the Importance of Being Slow - Luis Sepúlveda

The Story of a dog called Leal - Luis Sepúlveda

The Story of a Red Deer - John Fortescue

The Summer King Chronicles - Jess E. Owen

Schogul, Rächer der Tiere - Birgit Laqua [DE]

Stadt der Füchse - Vanessa Walder [DE]

Tailchaser's Song - Tad Williams

Tarka the Otter - Henry Williamson

Three Bags Full - Leonnie Swann

Thy Servant a Dog - Rudyard Kipling

Tomorrow's Sphinx - Clare Bell

Torn Ear - Geoffrey Malone

Thor - Wayne Smith

Trickster - Tom Moorhouse

Two Dogs and a Horse - Jim Kjelgaard

The Travelling Cat Chronicles - Hiro Arikawa

The Trilogy of the Ants - Bernard Werber

The Trumpet of the Swan - E. B. White

The Tusk That Did the Damage - Tania James

The Tygrine cat - Inbali Iserles

Ultimate Dragon Saga - Graham Edwards

Under the Skin - Michel Faber

Varjak Paw duology - S.F Said

Vainqueur the Dragon series - Maxime J. Durand

War Bunny series - Christopher St. Jhon

War Horse - Michael Morpurgo

War Queen - Illthylian

Warrior Cats series - Erin Hunter

Watership Down/Tales of Watership Down - Richard Adams

Ways of Wood Folk - William J. Long

Welkin Weasels series - Garry Kilworth

West of Eden - Harry Harrison

Whalesong Trilogy - Robert Siegel

Whale - Jeremy Lucas

Whispers in the Forest - Barbara Coultry

White Wolf - Henrietta Branford

White Fang - Jack London

White Fox Series - Jiatong Chen

Wild Lone - Denys Watkins-Pitchford

Wild Animals I Have Known - Ernest Thompson Seton

Willow Tree Wood Series - J. S. Betts

Wings of Fire series - Tui T. Sutherland

Winterset Hollow - Jonathan Edward Durham

Wolf: The Journey Home | Hungry for Home: A Wolf Odyssey - Asta Bowen

Wolf Brother series - Michelle Paver

Wolf Chronicles - Dorothy Hearst

Wolves of the Beyond series - Kathryn Lasky

Woodstock Saga - Michael Tod

A Whale of the Wild - Rosanne Parry

A Wolf Called Wander - Rosanne Parry

The Waters of Nyra - Kelly Michelle Baker

The Wolves of Elementa series - Sophie Torro

The Wolves of Time - William Horwood

The Wolf Chronicles Series - Teng Rong

The Way of Kings - Louise Searl

The White Bone - Barbara Gowdy

The White Fox/Singing Tree - Brian Parvin

The White Puma - Ronald Lawrence

The Wild Road & The Golden Cat - Gabriel King

The Wildings & The Thousand names of darkness - Nilanjana Roy

The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame

The Wind Protect You - Pat Murphy

The Wolves of Paris - Daniel P. Mannix

Yellow eyes - Rutherford Montgomery

The Year Of The Dinosaur - Edwin H. Colbert

Zones of Thought series - Vernor Vinge

Z-Verse series by R.H

Comic Books/Graphic Novels

Animosity - Marguerite Bennett

Age of Reptiles - Ricardo Delgado

Legend - Samuel Sattin Koehler

Mouse Guard - David Petersen

Pride of Baghdad - Brian K. Vaughan & Niko Henrichon

Rover Red Charlie - Garth Ennis & Michael Dipascale

Stray Dogs - Tony Fleecs & Trish Forstner

We3 - Grant Morrison & Frank Quitely

Beasts of Burden - Evan Dorkin & Jill Thompson

LOBO: Canine Crusader of the Metal Wasteland - Macs-World-Ent

The Sandman: Dream of a Thousand Cats - Neil Gaiman

Animal Castle - Xavier Dorison & Felix Delep

Blacksad Series - Juan Díaz Canales & Juanjo Guarnido

Scurry - Mac Smith

The Snowcat Prince - Dina Norlund

Rankless - Maggie Lightheart

Animal Pound - Tom King & Peter Gross

Animal Castle - Xavier Dorison & Felix Delep

BlackSad - Juan Díaz Canales & Juanjo Guarnido

Picture Books

Steve the Dung Beetle: On a Roll - Susan R. Stoltz & Melissa Bailey

Hot Dog - Doug Salati

The Rock from the Sky - Jon Klassen

Whoever Heard of a Flying Bird? - David Cunliffe & Ivan Barrera

A Cat Named Whiskers - Shana Gorian

Ocean Tales Children's Books Series - Sarah Cullen & Zuzana Sbodová

Jake the Growling Dog - Samantha Shannon

Indie Written Works

Fins Above Series - MIROYMON

Journey of Atlas - Journey of Atlas

Webcomics

Africa - Arven92

After Honour - genstaelens

Awka - Nothofagus-obliqua

Arax - Azany

Amarith - Eredhys

The Apple's Echo - Helianthanas

Alone - Magpeyes

The Blackblood Alliance - KayFedewa

The Betrothed - Kibisca

Black Tyrant - Zapp-BEAST

Blue - HunterBeingHunted

Beast Tags - TheRoomPet

Spy - Utahraptor93

Be Reflected in my Eyes - Aquene-lupetta

Carry your voice - TacoBella

Caelum Sky - ALRadeck

Crescent Wing - Mikaley

Crescent Moonlight - AnimalCrispy

City of Trees - SanjanaIndica

Corpse - doeprince/ratt

Darbi - Sherard Jackson

The Devils Demons - Therbis

Doe of Deadwood - Songdogx

Dyten - Therbis

Desperation - PracticelImagination

Equus Siderae - Dalgeor

Empyrean - Leonine-Skies

Enchantment - FeralWolf1234

Fox Fires - Pipilia

Forget me Not - Nitteh

Fjeld - Dachiia

Felinia - Rainy-bleu

Golden Shrike - doeprince/ratt

Ghost of the Gulag - David Derrick Jr.

Horse Age - BUGHS-22

Hiraeth - AFlameThatNeverDies

Half-Blood - majkaria

Horns of Light - ThatMoonySky

I Hope So - Detective Calico

The Ivory Walk - TacoBella

I'm not Ready - Wolfkingdom372

Jet and Harley - doeprince

Kestrel Island - Silverphoenix

Kin - Fienduredraws

KuroMonody - IrisBdz

Krystal - Nitteh

The King of Eyes - CloverTailedFox09

Legend of Murk - Azany

LouptaOmbra - Loupta Ombra (OngakuK, MlleNugget & joeypony)

Leopards bring rain - Kyriuar

Mazes of Filth - petitecanine

Minimal All You Are - mike-princeofstars

Nine Riders - SpiriMuse

No Man's Land - TacoBella

Never seen the Day - R3dk3y

Norra - shadowmirku

Obsidian Fire - SolinaBright

Oren's Forge - teagangavet

Off-White - Akreon

Out Of Time - IndiWolf

Rabbit on the Moon - Songdogx & Nitteh

The Rabbit Hole - Detrah

RunningWolf Mirari - Mirella Menciassi

Raptor - ElenPanter

Redriver - FireTheWolf777

Repeat - Songdogx

The Rabbit's Foot - riri_arts

Scurry - Mac Smith

Simbol - Zoba22

Spirit Lock - Animal Crispy

The Sylcoe - Denece-the-sylcoe

Sunder - Aurosoul

Tainted Hearts - Therbis

Taxicat - owlburrow

That's Freedom Guyra - Nothofagus-obliqua

Three Corners: A Kitten's Story - Lara Frizzell

Tofauti Sawa - TheCynicalHound

Two of a Kind - ProjectNao

To Catch a Star - SleepySundae

Under the Ash Tree - ChevreLune

Uninvited - Nothofagus-obliqua

Water Wolves - LuckyStarhun

What Lurks Beneath - ArualMeow

Water Wolves - LuckyStarhun

Wild Wolves - Lombarsi

White Tail - SleepySundae

What's your damage? - FrostedCanid

The Wolves of Chena - Yamis-Art

Waves Always Crash - Hellhunde

The Whale's Heart - Possumteeeth [Warriors Fancomic]

Manga

A Centaur's Life - Murayama Kei

Beastars - Paru Itagaki

Chi's Sweet Home - Kanata Konami

Ginga Series [Silverfang] - Yoshihiro Takahashi

Gon - Masashi Tanaka

Houseki no Kuni | Land of the Lustrous - Haruko Ichikawa

Inugami-Kai - Masaya Hokazono

The Jungle Emperor - Osamu Tezuka

My roommate is a cat - Minatsuki & Asu Futatsuya

Crimsons – The Scarlet Navigators of the Ocean - Kanno Takanori

Rooster Fighter - Shū Sakuratani

Simoun - Shō Aikawa

The Fox & Little Tanuki - Mi Tagawa

Yuria 100 Shiki - Nobuto Hagio

Massugu ni Ikou - Kira

Cat Soup

The Amazing 3

Cat + Gamer - Wataru Nadatani

Animated Series

101 Dalmatians: The series & 101 Dalmatian Street

A Polar Bear in Love

Baja no Studio

Bagi: Monster of Mighty Nature

Bannertail: The Story of Gray Squirrel

Bluey

Centaurworld (2021)

Chirin's Bell

Chironup no Kitsune

Dokkun Dokkun

Gamba no Bouken

Hazbin Hotel

Invader ZIM

Inu to Neko Docchi mo Katteru to Mainichi Tanoshii

King Fang

Koisuru Shirokuma

Kemushi no Boro

Kewang Lantian

Konglong Baobei: Shiluo De Wenming

Little Polar Bear

Manxmouse's Great Activity

Mitsubachi Maya no Bouken

Mikan Enikki

Massugu ni Ikou -

My Life as a Teenage Robot

Mikan Enikki

Ore, Tsushima

Okashi na Sabaku no Suna to Manu

Primal

Polar Bear Cafe

Robotboy (2005)

Seton Doubutsuki: Risu no Banner

Simoun

The Amazing 3

Tottoko Hamtarou

The Adventure of Qiqi and Keke

Tama & Friends: Third Street Story

Watership Down (2018) & Watership Down (1999)

What's Michael?

Wolf's Rain

Wonder Pets

Live-Action/Hybrid show

Fantasy High

A Crown of Candy

Burrow's End

Good Omens

Webseries

Dinosauria - Dead Sound

My Pride - tribbleofdoom

Whitefall - Chylk

The Stolen Hope - Galemtido

Dragon's Blood - FluffyGinger

Helluva Boss -

Murder Drones -

Short Films

Alone a wolf's winter

Baja's Studio

Beautiful Name

Burrow

Cat Piano

Cat Soup

Chicken Little

Far From the Tree

Ferdinand the Bull

Frypan Jiisan

Genji Fantasy: The Cat Fell in Love With Hikaru Genji

Gaitou to Neko

Hao Mao Mimi

Houzi Dian Bianpao

Je T'aime

Kitbull

Lava

Lambert the sheepish lion

Laoshu Jia Nu

Mahoutsukai no Melody

Monmon the Water Spider

Mushroom - Nakagawa Sawako

Of Mice and Clockworks

Osaru no Tairyou

Piper

Robin Robin

Rusuban

Sauria - Dead Sound

Smash and Grab

Street of Crocodiles

She and Her Cat

Space Neko Theater

Shiroi Zou | White Elephant

Shi | Food

Sugar, With a Story

Straw-saurus NEO

The Chair

The Blue Umbrella

The Shell Shocked Egg

The Dog Door

The Dog In The Alley

That's Why They Were Made

Ushigaeru

With a Dog AND a Cat, Every Day is Fun

Zhui Shu

Animated Films

101 Dalmatians duology

A Monkey's Tale (1999)

All Dogs go to Heaven

The Adventures of Lolo the Penguin

Alpha and Omega saga

An American Tail

The Aristocats

Antz

Animals United

Annabelle's Wish (1997)

Alakazam the great (1960)

Back Outback

Balto

Bambi / Bambi II

Bolt

Brother Bear / Brother Bear II

A Bug's Life

The Big Bad Fox and Other Tales

Bee Movie

The Brave Little Toaster

Birds of a Feather

Back to the Forest

Cars

Chance

Chicken Run

Dinosaur

Speckles: The Tarbosaurus || Dino King: Journey to Fire Mountain

Dumbo

DC League of Super-Pets

Elemental

Fantastic Mr. Fox

Fantastic Planet

Felidae

The Fox and the Hound

Finding Nemo/Finding Dory

Free Birds

The Fearless Four

The Good Dinosaur

Ghost in the Shell

Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio

Happy Feet/Happy Feet Two

Help! I'm a Fish

Home on the Range

Hoero! Bun Bun Movie

Hokkyoku no Muushika Miishika

Ice Age Franchise

Isle of Dogs

I Am T-Rex

Jungledyret Hugo

Koati

The King of Tibetan Antelope

Kuma no Gakkou trilogy

Lady and the Tramp

The Land Before time Franchise

The Last Unicorn

Leafy, A Hen in the wild

Little Big Panda

The Lion King Franchise

Lucky and Zorba

Lilo & Stitch

Luca

Last Day of the Dinosaurs

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

Marona's Fantastic Tale

Millionaire Dogs

My Friend Tyranno

Minuscule: Valley of the Lost Ants || Minuscule - Mandibles from Far Away

Mouse and His Child

Nezumi Monogatari: George to Gerald no Bouken

Oliver & Company

One Stormy Night

Over the Edge

Padak

The Plague Dogs

Pompoko

Pinocchio by Guillermo del Toro

Pipi Tobenai Hotaru

Raggedy Ann & Andy: A Musical Adventure

Rango

Ratatouille

Raven the Little Rascal

Reynard the Fox (1989)

Rio

Robots

Rock a Doodle

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1998)

The Rabbi’s Cat

Samson and Sally

Sahara

The Secret of Nihm

The Secret Life of Pets/The Secret Life of Pets II

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron

Sheep & Wolves

The Seventh Brother

A Stork's Journey

Stowaways on the Ark

A Turtle's Tale

The One and Only Ivan

Toy Story

Twilight of the Cockroaches (1987)

The Trumpet of the Swan

The Enchanted Journey

Unico

Underdog

Vuk the Little Fox

WALL·E

Watership Down (1978)

White Fang

Wizards

The Wild

Wolf Children

Wolfwalkers

You Are Umasou

Zootopia

Live Action/CGI Assisted Movies

Au Hasard Balthazar

Beverly Hills Chihuahua franchise

Cats & Dogs franchise

Charlotte's Web

Fluke (1995) - Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

Homeward Bound duology (1963 & 1996) - Disney

The Legend of Lobo (1962) - Disney

Strays (2023) - Universal Pictures

Pride (2024) - BBC

101 Dalmatians duology (1996 & 2000)

Documentary

March of the Penguins

Meerkat Manor

Lemur Street

Gangs of Lemur Island

Orangutan Island

Prairie Dog Dynasty

Chimp Empire

Monkey Thieves

Monkey Kingdom

Theather

Cats

Videogames

Animalia Survival - High Brazil Studio

Cattails - Falcon Development

Endling: Extinction is Forever

Gibbon: Beyond the trees - Broken Rules

The Lonesome Fog - Might and Delight

Meadow - Might and Delight

Niche - Stray Fawn Studio

Shelter / Shelter 2/ Shelter 3 - Might and Delight

Paws - Might and Delight

Stray - BlueTwelve Studio

The WILDS - Gluten Free Games

Wolf Quest - eduweb

Golden Treasure: The Great Green - Dreaming Door Studios

Spirit of the North - Infuse Studio

Ōkami - Clover Studio

Rain World - Videocult

Feather - Samurai Punk

Eagle Flight - Ubisoft Montreal Studio

Copoka - Inaccurate Interactive

Untitled Goose Game - House House

PaRappa - NanaOn-Sha

Night in the Woods - Infinite Fall & Secret Lab

Monster Prom - Beautiful Glitch

Them's Fightin' Herds - Mane6

Toontown

E.V.O.: Search for Eden - Givro Corporation

(Pretty much most of Might and Delight games)

Online Browser Games

Lioden

Wolvden

Flight Rising

Lorwolf

Table Top Games

Bunnies & Burrows

Chronicles of Darkness

Wanderhome

Mage: The Awakening

Werewolf: The Apocalypse

Pugmire

Three Raccoons in a Trench Coat

World Tree (RPG)

Pawpocalypse

Heckin' Good Doggos

Humblewood

Dungeons & Dragons (Depends on the GM)

Music

In My Eyes You're a Giant - Sonata Arctica

It Won't Fade - Unia

The Cage - Winterheart's Guild

Other Online Projects

Youtubers

Cardinal West

Xenofiction Reviews

Gen. Videos

Trope Talk: Small Mammal on a Big Adventure by Overly Sarcastic Productions

youtube

Worlds

Mirolapye - Varverine

Franchises

Sonic the Hedgehog

My little pony

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Hamtaro

Pokemon

Digimon

Kirby

Monter High

Tom & Jerry

Baldur’s Gate

Maya the Bee

The Little Polar Bear

#xenofiction #fantasy #masterlist #wip #scifi #fiction #Youtube

130 notes · View notes

tamapalace · 7 months

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Converse x Tamagotchi All Star Sneakers

Just announced, Converse will release new All Star Tamagotchi sneakers in collaboration with Tamagotchi this November 2023 in Japan! These are beyond adorable, and the box too. Converse collaborated with Tamagotchi on sneakers that are themed after the Original Tamagotchi released back on November 23rd, 1996 with the concept of nurturing your digital pet which cause a big boom, a global phenomenon!

The Tamagotchi All Star sneakers feature ankle patches on the high tops with the Tamagotchi logo in original font from the 90s, the iconic Tamagotchi UFO with Tamagotchi written on it, and the Original Tamagotchi clock that was featured on several Tamagotchi Original’s.

The tongue of the shoe features a Tamagotchi Original screen patch featuring both Mametchi eating, and Ginjirotchi pooping! Inside the tongue, you'll see the happy and health meters too.

You’ll even see some Tamagotchi pixel graphics featured inside the shoe too, which is the branding for the Converse x Tamagotchi collaboration featuring both Mametchi and Masktchi.

The Tamagotchi All Star sneakers will come in both white and blue, two of the colors featured on the Original Tamagotchi back in 1996.

Size will be available for adults, kids, and baby sizes! It is recommended to wear them matching with your family. Adult sizes will be priced at ¥10,450, child sizes will be priced at ¥7,150, and baby sizes will be priced at ¥6,600.

Did we mention the box is decorated as a Tamagotchi Original box from 1996? These are absolutely a MUST HAVE on your list this holiday season!

#tamapalace #tamagotchi #tmgc #tamatag #virtualpet #bandai #collaboration #collection #converse #allstar #all star #sneakers #news

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 1 year

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Baby hotline

You’ve been talking to a man who calls himself big daddy for over a month now, he calls every night to talk to you. Some conversations are wholesome whereas some lead to sin. When he calls you tonight you wonder which it shall be.

Big daddy! Elvis x call girl! reader smut.

Word count: 3k.

Warnings: Descriptive talk of sex. Mutual masturbation, fingering and jerking off. Explicit detail, graphic imagery. Hint of stalking. Innocence and corruption kink. Daddy kink. Talk of prostitution. Smoking and language. Talk of unprotected sex and cream pies. Age gap of 20 years. Heavy sexual themes. Mature.

A/n: Based around 1975, Elvis is a lonely pervert looking for young 🐱.

The silk curtains were tied in the middle as you pushed them aside. The large window in the hotel room overlooks the dark alleyway of Hollywood Boulevard. A few lights were scattered throughout the building across from where you stood. Traffic was slow and the people were scarce. Cars are parked by the sidewalks. Most are Volkswagens. The block you stayed on was occupied by protestors who preached free love and peace. It was a warm inviting community that brought you here, all those months ago. However, there was a dark brooding car that made you anxious. It was out of place in the rainbow pallet. A shiny 1973 Stutz Blackhawk. It loomed over all the other vehicles, like a dark storm cloud on a clear night. The car was parked on the other side of the road, closest to your window without being directly below. It was strange but maybe they were just visiting for a session with one of the girls.

The residents of the hotel you lived at including you were either prostitutes or call girls. You being the latter. It was a movement to lift women's sexuality. You decided what's the harm in selling the most organic thing, sex. You get paid for doing it as well and won't have to see the person who's paying. A man who was your most reliable client paid the highest. You didn't know his real name or what he looked like. Only what he told you throughout the months you've known him. You knew that he liked being called big daddy, and he loved routine. He told you he had blue eyes and dark black hair, and that he was a very wealthy man. However, with all that charm came a cost. Some of the calls he made were personal, talking to you like a child. Telling you that he was a lonely man, that women didn't love him like they used to since he gained some weight. He was older, more mature. He talked to you like a guardian. He wanted to protect you, a stranger. A call girl he's never met at that.

Unabashedly you liked him more than you should. He paid fairer than most of the men you talked to, and he always kept his word to spoil you. Big daddy also had a routine of calling you, every other night at midnight. Tonight however is nearing that hour and you haven't heard a word from him. It was strange since he was a creature of habit. Has he lost interest? Surely not, sometimes he called just to talk to you. He didn't care that every minute was ten dollars he just wanted to know how his little darling was doing.

You sighed, sitting on the window banister. Propping the window open you hear Hollywood's busy atmosphere. People yelling and conversing, and the traffic. The cool night air hitting your bare thighs made you shiver. Your baggy sleep shirt isn't adapting to California’s climate.

Hitting the bottom of the pack of reds, you open the brim. Plucking one of the last cigarettes out of the box. Placing it between your lips you take the lighter you keep stuffed in the box out. Cupping your hand around the flame you light the smoke. Puffing the flame to keep it steady. You tuck the lighter back and set aside the box on the side of the sill.

If you focus hard enough you swear you could see the stars behind Hollywood's fog. You inhale the smoke and breathe it out of your nose. You feel a pit in your stomach grow as the minutes pass as he doesn't call. The embers fall onto the window pane and you throw the rest of it out, puffing a long train of smoke and pushing it out into the night.

There's rhythmic rapping on the other side of your door. The sudden noise makes you jump, your skin tingling with fear. Who could be asking for your presence at such a late stage of the night? Hesitantly you stand and walk over to your door. Wrapping your fingers around the knob, bracing yourself for what’s to come when you open. When you open it, nothing is there. You stick your head out and look at both sides. Empty. You take a step out, and your toes hit something solid. Looking down you find a box. The box is about not big, not small either. More of a rectangle than anything. One of those boxes you find at a woman’s boutique. It doesn’t have a brand but it’s a hot pink color. There’s a white bow on top, and a small card tucked under it. Did someone else’s mail get delivered to you? You crouch down and take the card out from the sash. In barely cursive writing, it reads.

To my sweet darling,

May you bless these garments, with your lovely body.

Sincerely,

Your daddy.

Briefly your cheeks heat up, and the rest of your body follows. Your hands are sweating when you pick the box up. A smile erupts across your face. He cares. However, it strikes you with fear about how much he does. For example, how did he find where you lived? Did he trace the line? Surely not, you were just overthinking. You set the box down on your bed. You tucked the card under the lamp on your side table. The only light that is shown in your room. It illuminated the pink rotary phone on standby.

You slipped the baggy shirt over your chest, the cold air of the night made your skin prickle. Your nipples pebble from the icy grasp. Your little white panties were the only thing you had on. Untying the sash you opened the box. Your eyes turned glassy, your pussy clenching around nothing. Your brain is running wild with assumptions. A dusty pink bra with a little white bow in between the cups and matching lace panties. Your ears started to ring. You took the fabric into your hands, examining your gift further. It was silk. The stitching was embroidery, not factory-made. Did he get this tailored to you? You snorted a laugh at the idiocy. But upon further inspection, picking up your chosen underwear for the night. You found a pink sticky note with the number three written on it. Three thousand dollars in one hundred bills wrapped with a pink rubber band stuffed into the crotch. You huffed a loud noise in the form of a gasp. You should've known he’d do something like this. Taking the wad out you placed it by his note.

Unclasping the delicate strap you place the bra on. It shouldn't be a shock that it fits you perfectly, but it also raised the question. How did he know? You hooked your fingers under the waistband of the white panties you had on and slipped them off. You shake your head at the damp spot in the middle. God. Did just thinking about him do this to you? He could be the ugliest man alive for all you knew. His voice though. That heavy southern drawl, that makes him sound drunk sometimes with how slow he talks. You roll your eyes and groan. There it is again, you psycho-analyzing your client. It's just business. Where is the line between client and lover? You didn't know and you're afraid that you're too far gone to understand the concept.

You slid on the soft pink ones and pulled them up your legs and they hung snugly around your hips. Bizarrely you felt a wild hit of lust. Like those smelling salts they've been selling around your street lately. A boost of confidence hits your psyche. You knew you looked pretty just from how the lingerie felt. He somehow knew what looked best on you. He knows what's best for you. You ran your palms flat over your curves, stroking yourself. Suddenly, you understood what men saw. That unbridled sexual libido.

The phone rang. Your eyes almost bulged out of your head and you ran over to the pink plastic. Kicking the box off of your bed in the midst of it all. When you first pick it up and hold it to your ear you don't hear anything. Other than the hushed sound of breathing.

“Hello?”

You whisper into the bottom. You lay flat on your stomach, anticipating who is on the other line.

“Hello, darlin’. Been missin’ you.”

Your heart hammers against your chest. You smile widely. His voice is deeper than it usually is, softer as well. He's composed.

“Really?”

Listening to his breathing fogs your thinking and makes your stomach tighten.

“Of course, honey, been thinking about you since our last call.”

You snort a little at how silly his answer was. You trail your fingers over the curly cord.

“You’re so funny daddy, our last call was yesterday. You couldn't have thought about me that much.”

Instead of the line going quiet and listening to his breathing he immediately replies.

“Trust me, yittle girl, I have.”

You start to burn. He’s thought about you so much to the point where it’s not even a question. He adjusts himself and you hear leather squelch. Is he calling you in his car? You can’t think about it for long.

“Do you like my present?”

You scoff.

“Like it? I love it, daddy! Thank you so much!”

“I was a little worried it wouldn’t fit. Had to make a guess using what you’ve told me.”

You wonder if he keeps tabs on you, a notepad dedicated to details about you. You feel flattered by the sentiment.

“Are you wearing it?”

You can hear his swallow, a thick audible sound coming from his throat. Hearing him lick his lips too. You smile.

“Mhm, it’s very pretty. Expensive too, and I noticed the cash. You didn’t have to, our call was only a couple hundred last night.”

You felt a little apologetic for the amount of money he gave you. You honestly valued the conversations you have with him, you felt saddened to know that he probably thought you only talked to him since you got paid in the end. You hear him scoff on the other side.

“Baby, I'll tell you one thing. You don't know nothin’ ‘bout me if you think I can't spoil my yittle girl.”

You smile.

“Point taken.”

It’s quiet again. His deep breathing follows, it’s strangely comforting hearing him breathing. It’s as if you were cuddled up next to him. You’d lay on his chest, rubbing your hand on his bare chest. Feeling his heart beat faster as you trail your hand lower under the waistband of his velvet track pants. You wondered what color they’d be. You know undoubtedly he wouldn’t have trouble getting hard. A pretty little thing like you was the only dose of medicine he’d ever need. You rub your thighs together trying to appease the urge to touch yourself. Fantasizing what his hands would feel like on your body. How big he was.

“Need to stop smokin’ honey.”

You blink dumbly. Your heart is running fast. How’d he know? Was he watching? No. You refuse.

“W-what?”

Your words are rushed.

“A lotta girls in the valley are startin’ to smoke those cowboy killers. They’re called that for a reason. Pretty young girls can’t take that kinda smoke. Makes your poor daddy sad seein’ them ruin’n their lives because of a fad.”

“How d’you know I smoke?”

“Like I said, lotta pretty youngins are startin’ up the nasty habit.”

Shutting your mouth you think for a few seconds, contemplating his answer. He’s most likely around your demographic all the time for his profession. He’s just in one of his overprotective moods. He’s been getting into those moods more often lately. A hint of jealousy grows a pit in your stomach. If he’s always around young women then why does he talk to you? There’s nothing special about a call girl. Or so you think.

“Daddy, do you ever think about me outside of our little talks?”

“I'm ‘fraid you got a listen’in problem. Told you before darlin’, I think ‘bout you every damn minute.”

He starts huffing, breathing quicker.

“Starts gettin’ bad when I'm on the job and I start thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

You push your hand on the mattress, laying flat on your back. Adjusting the phone to your other hand so the cord isn't in your way. Smiling mischievously to yourself. Running your nails along your stomach.

“What do you think about me when you're working?”

“Oh, Lord honey, all kinds of things. Your daddy gets so very lonesome without his yittle sweet thing. He starts thinkin’ ‘bout how it feels to have her legs wrapped around his hips. How her tiny sooties wouldn't be able to touch. If he put all his weight on her if he’d feel his cock in her stomach every time he fucks up into her.”

You can't speak, running his filthy words through your mind. How your feet wouldn't be able to touch just from how wide his hips are. The confidence he has in his size is a complete contrast to the insecurity he normally voices. You don't know what the change was in his ego but you love it. So much to the point where you cup your hand over your pussy. The warmth from your labia makes your arousal build. You can feel the dampness of your essence seeping through his lacy panties. Your clit is already swollen and throbbing from the friction of the elastic band.

“How-,”

You bite back a whimper, clutching the phone closer to your ear to hear his rapid breaths.

“How big are you?”

He chuckles under his breath, how innocent you are. He's talked to you about what he wants to do to you. You're not shy or bashful when you warm up to him. The fact of the matter was you were as much of a freak as he was, maybe even more. All you were was just a little minx.

“You know those glass co-la bottles that used to sell wild back in 55?”

“It's like that honey.”

You dip your fingers under the band of the panties, you tease the outer lips of your slit. Your folds are soaked in your juices. Hearing him talk in that dirty southern drawl makes your hips buck. The poor man can't even say cola right because of his accent. It causes your breath to hitch. You spread open the lips of your snatch and drag the wetness from your core to your clit. Up and down.

“Goddamn, I don’ even think my pinky could fit in your little cunt. I betcha you couldn't even take in your daddy's knuckle.”

He cleared his throat, the pause made you push two fingers into your fluttering hole. Automatically your back arches. You can only imagine his features pushing into you, how his cock would stretch you out. The burn of him pulling out only to plunge back in.

“How am I makin’ you feel?”

He pulls you closer to the edge, you can hear the wet squelch of your fingers fucking into your channel. Your palm flattens and rubs on your clit. Your body feels electric and pulsing with every thrust.

“Listen real close, daddy.”

You bite down hard on your lip to stifle a whine. Taking the phone from your face you place it between your thighs. Right above the hand, you're fingering yourself with. He groans loud and heavily into the speaker.

“Uh huh, mhm.”

The tension in your stomach snaps, and you can feel the rush flow from your abdomen and down into your hand. Your legs straighten out and you let go of the phone, soaking the plastic your bed and his panties. Your eyes roll back and your mouth parts as your breath becomes ragged. When you come back down to earth, the only thing you can imagine is his face stuffed into your neck telling you how good you did. You lift up and take the phone back up, wiping it off with your duvet.

“How’d that sound?”

“Lord have mercy on me.”

You smile at how astonished he sounds.

“That darlin’ sounded as good as the lord's gospel.”

“I swear to god daddy's gon’ fill you up, make you his forever. Allow you to be blessed by raising his kid. He’ll never be alone again having you as his little mama.”

This was new. His mantra about wanting to play house with you. Maybe it was because you had a crush on him or that your mind was still foggy but that didn't sound bad at all. Actually, it sounded like a dream.

“Did you cum daddy?”

He laughs into the phone, one of his warm authentic ones. The one that makes your stomach flutter.

“Honey, I finished when you told me you were wearin’ the little thing I gotcha.”

You blush, smiling wide. Maybe it's because of him telling you that he wants a future with you. Or the delusion that you'll have a life with him, but you can't help but ask him.

“When can I meet you?”

He sighs on the line, a deeply disappointing one. That crushes your soul a little. Your feelings get twisted slightly before he answers.

“Tonight.”

The line goes dead after his reply.

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rottenparasite · 4 months

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rui kamishiro rentry graphics for anon ~ f2u

[id: three blue and orange themed rui graphics. the first is a msked gif with a rui png on the left. the second is a masked gif in a star themed frame with a laced ribbon png on the left. the third is a pop out rui graphic in a star shaped frame with a rui gif on the bottom right]

psd filter credit

#rentry graphics #project sekai

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hananenetanabata · 1 month

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THANK YOU ALL FOR VOTING ON THE GOOGLE FORM!! Submissions for the HanaNene Tanabata Week 2024 prompts are now closed! 💕

With that said, this year's Tanabata Week will use the following prompts, starting Monday, July 1st, and ending Monday, July 8th!

DAY 1: Constellation/Galaxy

DAY 2: Sun/Stars

DAY 3: Fate/Dreams

DAY 4: Separation/Tears

DAY 5: Reunion/Shine

DAY 6: Reflection/Evening

DAY 7: Marriage/Blue

DAY 8: FREE DAY/First Kiss/Escape

As usual, the prompts for Free Day were taken from user submissions, and they don't adhere as closely to the Tanabata theme! Thank you all so much for your answers and your prompt submissions--there were so many good ones that I'll be keeping some of them for next year's prompt selection poll!

With all that said-- I hope to have the official graphic up sometime before June (I make no promises; life is crazy haha)!

Thanks again, everyone. Hope to see you all under the stars and beneath the Tanabata Tree 🎋🌌

#hananene #hananenetanabata #hananenetanabata24 #jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun

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justjams2003 · 9 months

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Can you write a dark!Thor fic, with fem!reader (Medieval AU), where the reader is taken as a slave, when her village was destroyed. I LOVE your writing so you can do whatever plot or theme you want :)whenever you can. I hope you're safe and I wish you a great day/night. xxx

Sweet Savagery

So... I loved this request so much! And it gave me so many ideas and motivation that I decided to make this a series! Hope you enjoy it!

Paring: Dark!Thor Odinson x Slave!Reader

Summary: All your life, Thor's blue eyes have haunted you. You believed you outran him, but now all your hopes come tumbling down.

Warnings: Death of loved ones, violence, nightmares, non-con, p in v, degradation. Tell me if I missed any.

Word count: 2k+, Unedited

1st Divider by: @firefly-graphics

2nd Divider by: @cafekitsune

Are you cursed by the Gods? Or is it entirely only him? You were only just a small thing when it happened. The violently blue lightning striking down on your father’s wheat fields. You can remember it as though it was yesterday. Even after years of trying to forget.

When the dark consumes you, the light of the colossal fire takes over your mind. Your mama had scolded you just the same evening, pleading with you not to wander too far into the forest. Repeatedly saying that she wanted you home before sundown.

Like always, your mind floated into the sky, only to be vehemently struck down to earth, by that lightning bolt.

The one that started it all. Your little legs carried you as fast as you could, and still, the flames had engulfed the little farmhouse you had lived on for so long. The wall of fire had long since cleared any sign there ever was of your family’s only income. Leaving only a black streak of ash as it made its way further into the village.

If only you could’ve cried so much that it put out the fire. If only it didn’t burn down Aunty Cathy’s house, who was practically your second mother. Or the local baker’s house, who always gave you a free loaf, unable to resist your doe-eyes. Or even the blacksmith’s house, which you only saw on occasion. At least you knew him.

There are a lot of regrets surrounding that night. The most prevalent one is; not listening to your mother. The gods might have been merciful and have let you die with your parents. They might have spared you from looking into those blue eyes. The same shade of blue that caused this all.

The fire still roared; the moon was full and round; even the stars twinkled and yet those aggressively blue eyes lit up the dark of the night more than any of the previously mentioned. You remember the fear that surrounded you, praying to the gods you knew at the time, that those eyes weren’t searching for you in the night.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if the man with the eyes was the one to cause the lightning. Or maybe you were cursed by the gods. If they were laughing in their ivory towers at the cruel joke of a coincidence.

At that time, you thought that these deaths would be the worst of your worries. That those eyes wouldn’t surround every part of your fate. The gods did laugh.

Thieves found you hiding in the woods. They tied you up and used you as they saw fit. Only to grow tired of you, purely just because you became too old for them and sold you off to a slave trader. Which is where you find yourself now. Just barely clothed, waiting in the throne room.

Your bones are clattering and you’re unsure if it’s from the cold or utter fear. You’ve heard many stories of this deranged king. Crimes are punished harshly in a superfluous manner. The circles from which you’ve spent your formative years, the best thieves on the globe, could only speak in terrified tones.

And when they did, they spoke of a man who defies god’s creation. Some even mentioned that the fates and time itself dare not touch him. A king, with the stature of a giant, unmissable and unmistakable. The people who made other people shake in their boots, questioned if this king is just maybe an ancestor of the Titans.

Bred to raise an army and challenge the gods' thrones.

Judging by the extreme size of the throne, all rumours seem to be true. With each passing moment, your anxiety only grew. Until, finally, you can feel the vibrations through the floor. Slow and steady steps, no need to rush. Each of the slaves would stand there waiting for however long they are told to.

The doors open, again; slow. The men that enter are huge, yes, but none compare to him. The king, no doubt. Nevertheless, his size is the least of your worries. All you can see is that night flashing before your eyes once more, the same eyes.

What scares you most is that you haven’t made up his power, or just how much his eyes remind you of storms. His gaze follows from your far left until it finally lands on you. The storms in his eyes are steady, he remains stoic and unreadable.

The room stays silent. His gaze does not move from you, but he does. You can hear his throne creak, which now looks small in relation to former imaginations. Your eyes meet the floor and soon after his perfectly polished boots. He doesn’t dare look as silly as the other kings, with no tights and no pointy shoes.

His breath is heavy, you can’t help but fear breathing. He towers over you, and you can feel his gaze burning holes through your skull. Suddenly his hand grips you by the neck, forcing you to meet him face to face. At first, he seems to scan your body, what for, only the gods know.

Then finally his eyes meet yours. If he recognises you, he certainly doesn’t show it. He gives nothing away. At the same time, it feels like those blue eyes are burrowing themselves deeper into your mind. As if he’s saying, “Remember. Remember what I did? I fucking loved it.”

The king lets go and the second he does your shackles are undone. Maids shuffle all around you and the last you see of him is his blood-red cloak dragging across the floor.

You can hear the slave trader audibly sigh in relief. You can hear the few coins that your life and body was traded for being handed to him. That’s it, it seems. The end.

Once more, you feel barren. Exposed in the little amount of clothes you were given. This is his chambers? You wouldn't be able to tell it from any other room in the castle. To such a degree that you wouldn't be able to see a difference from any other bedroom in any other castle in the world. It's almost entirely empty.

There is no smell that lingers, no portraits, no trinkets. There is no soul. It's kept pristinely clean, so much so that you wouldn't even know a man of his size stays here. The bed, yes, is huge to match his stature, but the bedding is one you would expect from any other.

A sudden thump erupts in the room, this causes you to jump. His hammer, his weapon of choice hits the ground. The wooden floor is dented, in the spot you presume where the hammer is placed every night. Once again, he's quiet, yet somehow you know exactly what to do when he turns his back to you.

Your hurried, shuffling steps can be heard across the oak floor. Like the mouse running to the cat. You unclip his blood-red coat from his steel shoulder plates. Now, after the initial shock, you can truly take in all that is him.

His blonde luscious hair that falls just below his shoulder is kept loose. It’s covered in dirt and grime but still, somehow it looks like golden threads, each placed perfectly. You then unbuckle the mentioned shoulder plates. They each carry a heavy weight from their sheer size. You fold it all neatly together and place it by the cupboard next to the door.

The mighty king turns to you, and with one quick shrug, he throws off his shirt. Could he indeed be a giant? Was he made to overthrow the gods? Or perhaps he was made by the gods himself, made alluring and beautiful to gain the human's trust.

You've experienced the lies of beauty before. Beauty earns trust that years of friendship can't compare to. Just the same, it stabs you in the back. At least with beauty, there's a pretty sight while you bleed.

Heavy footsteps shake you from the past, his presence forcing you all the way with your knees against the bed. The king's hand engulfs your neck, all around. He's warm against your icy skin, your body leans against him, for the heat. At the same time your mind fights, fights the need to give in and want this.

The man in front of you bends his neck low, his nose grazing from your collarbone all the way to your ear. A sudden storm begins to rumble in his chest, shivers form up and down your body as he speaks his first words to you.

"I know who you are." A rash of emotions hits your mind. He knows. He knows. He knows. The words reply in your head. The little hope you had that he would use you as just another whore is defenestrated. His wrath is not limited by time and his grudge will not fall.

"I remember that night. How can I forget how your parents screamed?" It's as if he chuckled, but at the same time, it can be heard as a growl. Like that of a clap of thunder. "They begged and pleaded for me to save your life."

The cruel king takes the thin straps of your night dress and pushes them off your shoulders and onto the floor. The wind sweeps through the windows, cold air making your body perk up.

"I was merciful, was I not?" That same cold air clashes with his hot breath. Now comes the time to decide. Would it be worth it to run?

Is there a point? He-His hot tongue is pressed against the base of your neck. It follows the curve of your tendons all the way up to your lips. "Now you must pay the debt of your life." Those plump lips ghost against your own. -He will catch you. "Yes, my king."

He is not soft; you have decided so. The thoughts that swim behind those icy-blue eyes, those which the world cannot see, do not contain mercy.

Yet, somehow, his hands are soft on your upper arms. “You will learn to love it.” He furrows his brows ever so slightly. The corners of his mouth are pulled down, just barely. As though he is seeing your future, the future he will cause, and is somehow saddened by it.

As if he suddenly realises that he’s shown more than the rock wall around his heart, he twists you around and throws you on the bed. You can hear his bottoms hit the floor and know it’s started.

His hands are rough, and huge, surrounding all of your waist. And just like every other part of him, his cock is immense. And in one harsh stroke, he impales your insides. There is no possible way to hold back the gasp that escapes your lips.

Your hands grip the sheets and already, you can feel the tears form in your eyes. On top of all that, he grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you even further down on him.

Sweat beads down your back after many violent thrusts. Grunts escape from the man, but not another word. There is no halting the moans that free themselves from your body.

Not soon after you can feel his dick grow even bigger somehow. His legs pull himself closer to yours and the liquids between your bodies soon are joined by steaky loads of cum.

Everything rocks and shakes your body. Your legs are raw and littered with bruises from the brutal beat of bodies. There are red marks all over your back and an ache in your shoulder.

Exhaustion is heavy weight forcing you down onto the mattress. Fire burns between your legs when he pulls himself from you. He seems to lay you down gently, still on your stomach.

You can feel his hot breath on your back. In contrast to the earlier savage fuck, he places gentle kisses on your neck. His beard tickles your skin, and you can feel his long hair graze against you.

“Thor. You may call me Thor.” You furrow your brows but before you can protest, the giant man is gone. Not that it matters, fatigue has taken over you and like every time before the dark is filled with bright blue eyes.

#thor odinson #thor #thor x reader #thor x you #dark!thor x reader smut #dark!thor x reader #dark!thor smut #dark!thor

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ordinaryschmuck · 11 months

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Quick Thoughts on Nimona

Based on the graphic novel by the creator of that She-Ra reboot no one likes anymore, Nimona is a movie that is well-worth the wait.

For those who don’t know, this WAS originally a Blue Sky Studios produced movie intended to be in theaters. They got about...80-90% done before Disney shut down the studio and forced Nimona to be indefinitely shelved until someone wanted it.

And it turns out that Netflix wanted it. And boy...Blue Sky REALLY dodged a bullet with this one.

Oh, not because the movie is bad. Again, it is VERY well-worth the wait.

The animation is stellar, having a unique style that sets it apart from other animated movies, as well as having fluent movements and bombastic facial expressions. The most it shines are in the action sequences, which are fun to watch even if there’s not many of them (really wish there were, though).

And the characters are also pretty decent. Ballister has a very tragic beginning to his story, as well as a character arc that’s pretty endearing.

His boyfriend Ambrosius is also endearing, having a decent conflict that makes you understand his side and why he’s always willing to go back and forth on what to do.

And the main antagonist, who is a surprise that’s cleverly revealed halfway, is a great villain representing the flaws of authority and why the people who make the laws actually have zero value on human life. It IS easy to tell they’re the twist villain, and their motivations are a little lacking, but you can let that stuff go if its thematically appropriate, which it is.

But then there’s the real star of the film: Nimona. At first, I found it a little weird how she’s top billing with how much of the story’s conflict is based on Ballister, but the film really picks up with Nimona, who is the heart of the movie. She’s definitely that character who some are going to love while others are going to hate, but I find her wild and violent tendencies entertaining and her chemistry with Ballister to be on point. Plus, her backstory and attitude towards how people see her really helps to endear her.

Seriously, I wasn’t expecting too much drama from Nimona, but BOY does it deliver with a few heart-clenching scenes that almost got to me a few times.

Not to mention that the themes of...I guess anti-police is the best way to put it. It’s made pretty obvious that the knights and their director are to represent the police system, and the movie does well to illustrate the flaws of it. Not EVERYTHING is perfect, but it’s...good enough.

Any real complaints I have towards the movie is the pacing and the jokes. The movie knows when to slow down for when it’s important, but there are some scenes that fly by, particularly some bonding moments between Ballister and Nimona and the development of their relationship. And the jokes can be hit or miss. When it hits, it’s REALLY funny. When it doesn’t, it’s REALLY awkward.

But that’s about it...So, WHY do I say that Blue Sky dodged a bullet with this one?

Because this is a movie that’s very against police and VERY supportive of the LGBTQA+ community. Nimona makes it clear that the bad guys are the ones who kill what society deems as monsters, even though some of these monsters got that name because all they did was exist.

If Disney didn’t kill Blue Sky, the amount of homophobic and conservative parents demanding that Nimona got pulled from theaters WOULD.

People already aren’t alright with the gay and mind-changing stuff that’s on TV nowadays. Hell, I saw on Twitter that a guy destroyed his sons Funko pop collection AND TV just because the kid was watching THE OWL HOUSE. There are VERY bad parents out there who would do anything to “protect the children,” and Blue Sky would have undoubtedly went down for a VERY brave stand to take.

Which is a shame because Nimona really is that good. It’s a solid 7/10 film that left me entertained throughout and should be seen by everyone. Bit of a warning, there’s a bit of an attempt to self-harm/suicide near the end...but thankfully it was only an attempt.

Still, check out Nimona. It’s fun, it has heart, and it’s pleasant on the eyes. You won’t be disappointed by this one.

#nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #quick thoughts #what i thought about

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choicesseptemberchallenge2023 · 9 months

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[Masterlist]

Welcome to Choices September Challenge!

Hello everyone! I'm Aura (@midnightmelodiz ). This is my first time hosting this monthly challenge, so I'm really excited about it. I really hope you all will like the prompts chosen for this month.

🍁GUIDELINES🍁

This is a prompt based contest. There's a prompt given for everyday, using which you'll have to create a content. Some days have multiple prompts, and different types of prompts. Feel free to use them all in the same work if you want.

You can use multiple prompt for the same work if the prompts are for same day. Don't mix and match prompts from different days.

Almost all kind of contents are acceptable. List of acceptable contents : fanfictions, drabbles, short-story/one-shot , poetry, microtale, art, mood board, theme, banner or other graphics etc.

Work based on any book from the Choices universe are welcome.

Submitted works will be featured on a weekly masterlist.

You can participate as many times as you want throughout the month.

Multiple entries for the same prompt, or same day prompts are allowed.

If your work contains NSFW/mature or triggering content, please use appropriate warning.

Mention/list the prompt(s) you are using in your content.

If possible, in stories, drabbles etc., write the prompt(s) in bold.

You can use the tag #choicesseptemberchallenge2023 & #choicesmonthlychallenge .

Please tag @choicesseptemberchallenge2023, feel free to tag me too : @midnightmelodiz . You can dm me your entries as well since Tumblr glitches a lot. Honestly I'd prefer if you dm your works, as Tumblr tags don't always work.

If I don't mention your work in the weekly masterlist, please send me a dm with the link.

🍂PROMPTS🍂

🍁 DAY 1 : Memories •||• "I can't be who you want me to be"

🍁 DAY 2 : Stars •||• Two people who keep crossing paths but miss actually meeting.

🍁 DAY 3 : Sea, Ocean •||• "You really like it?" "No, I was kidding."

🍁 DAY 4 : Moonlight, Moon •||• They have been secretly in love with each other for a long time.

🍁 DAY 5 : Diary, Journal, Notebook •||• "We're here now. Everything's alright."

🍁 DAY 6 : Dreams, Day Dream •||• "I'm in love with you!"

🍁 DAY 7 : Hope •||• Sharing something personal about them that they've never shared with anyone before.

🍁 DAY 8 : Coffee, Hot Beverage •||• "Come back! I'm not ready to get up yet. So you aren't either."

🍁 DAY 9 : Date Night •||• "I'm home, sweetheart!"

🍁 DAY 10 : Gift •||• "I care about you. I always will."

🍁 DAY 11 : Travel, Holiday , Vacation •||• Sharing an ice-cream together.

🍁 DAY 12 : Books, Reading, Writing •||• "You and me, it's never going to happen."

🍁 DAY 13 : Flowers •||• "I want to be with you." "I don't."

🍁 DAY 14 : Polaroid, Picture •||• Clicking candid pictures of their S/O to capture the special moments.

🍁 DAY 15 : Childhood, Nostalgia •||• "I love you. It's always going to be you."

🍁 DAY 16 : Cooking, Baking •||• Pretending to date each other to get out of a situation.

🍁 DAY 17 : Picnic •||• "That's all I really need. Some time with just you."

🍁 DAY 18 : Cuddle, Snuggle •||• Taking care of the other when they're sick or feeling low.

🍁 DAY 19 : Museum, Library •||• Picturing a future together even though they know it might never be true.

🍁 DAY 20 : Blue •||• " Are you saying that there's hope? Maybe in the future-" "No."

🍁 DAY 21 : Love, Kiss •||• Sending love letters to the other.

🍁 DAY 22 : Friends, Friendship •||• "It feels like I've known you forever."

🍁 DAY 23 : Fall •||• "I'm seeing someone."

🍁 DAY 24 : Serene •||• "Guess all those romance novel paid off after all, huh?"

🍁 DAY 25 : Secret, Surprise •||• "Is that my shirt?"

🍁 DAY 26 : Chocolate •||• Predicting the other's words or moves.

🍁 DAY 27 : Sunset •||• "Why did I know you would say that?"

🍁 DAY 28 : Wedding •||• "I always knew you would get together someday. What took you two so long?"

🍁 DAY 29 : rêveur, rêveuse •||• " You are all I could ever ask for."

🍁 DAY 30 : Home, Heart •||• "I'm here for you. Always."

**{Credit for most of the dialogue prompts goes to this blog~ @youneedsomeprompts}**

Have fun creating!

#choices stories you play #choices #choices monthly challenge #choicesmonthlychallenge #choicesseptemberchallenge2023 #choices september challenge 2023 #writing prompt #dialogue prompt #fic prompt #prompt challenge #word prompt

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punk-in-docs · 2 years

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‼️YOU (don’t) KNOW I’M NO GOOD‼️

Detective (Killer) Quinn x Reader

3.6k words - Sequel to Tainted Love -

Inspired by *that* photo shoot - this is for @ceriseheaven 💋

Summary: Danger is apparently closer than you realise. ‼️ TW dark themes within: graphic descriptions of death/murder, and some mild stalking ‼️ porn coming up hot in the next one folks (I forever wish I could be one of those writers who just hops right on into writing smut - you’ll have to hear me waffle a little bit first Kay?)

A Hooker is found dead off Sunset Boulevard. Throat slit.

Her lanky limbs, stuffed into a horrible stinking dumpster behind the Whisky a Go-Go.

A blue dime store high heel lays in the alley. There’s blood spattered on it

You were there like a flash. Still tripping into your heels and zipping up your skirt, pulling on panty hose. Doing up your pussy bow blouse as you waited at the bus stop. No food or coffee in your belly. You’d no time.

Just sheer gut adrenaline and deep throbbing hunger for this continuing nightmare. Your story is here and you’ll hunt it out.

The bucking up bootstrap talk you give to yourself every morning. Shaking off shallow sleep. Finding that well of your elbow grease and getting the bit tight between your teeth. Grabbing your lipstick and your voice recorder as you run out the door.

Forever hauling ass to and from the corner of Clinton and Larchmont at the Chronicle office. Whenever you’re needed; have pen and gumption, will travel.

Sleeping at your desk with a deadly knotted crick in your neck. Back and fucking forth, from your baby pink and slowly rotting Las Palmas apartment building.

You exist from ends to end of cigarettes and chucking back shots of bourbon at night after a steamy shower. You scrounged your way by on half snatched lunches on the go, mustard hotdogs or everything bagels, black coffee, two sugars, no creamer. Gin with ice and lemon on Friday nights, and little to no sleep at all.

News never sleeps. Why should you-

You’d scrape to the bottom of this hellscape crime if it killed you.

Oh Birdie, Birdie, Birdie.

Another girl mangled dead. Another bloodstain soaking into the very same stretch of tarmac that’s laid with the gold star walk of fame.

A house way up in the Hollywood hills with two male roommates. And now a Hooker dead a stones throw off the boulevard. It’s random. There’s no pattern there. No food-chain event to yet glimpse a rhythm in.

You’d managed to elbow your way past the male reporters. Balding fat Murray’s and Brad’s, who came flocking from the Times and the Glendale Press.

With their cheap brown suits and oily moustaches. Ketchup blobbed on their polyester shirts and sweat pit stains, and usual brand of misogynistic bullshit. The way they talk about the dead hooker is like she was vermin.

You struck gold. You found the girls. You shamelessly shove your nose, and your cheap Jet Rag heels, all up into the business of the deceased’s friends.

Gathered around the cordon with you, tear streaked. Wiping weepy mascara trails. Last nights make up still caked on and very high heels. Hickies around their necks and up fingertip marks cobwebbed up their thighs.

You don’t take shit from them. No male reporter thinks their input is valuable? You do. You carve out time for them in this callous fast paced city that sees them as unwanted features.

You learn her name. Skinny Tina. So called because of her love of smack. Junkie to it. Liked leopard print dresses and her blue denim jacket. Smoked lucky’s. Came from Nashville. Old fixture on this block. Older than the stars she trod over.

You learn how she kept her corner. Worked her patch solid, from Bob Hope, all the way up to Ella Fitzgerald. That was her turf.

They tell you about the John she got off with last night when they last saw her. You cling to that morsel like it’s your lifeline. Root out as much as you can.

Scribble furiously. White male. Mid forties. Red Thatcherite braces, whiff of Wall Street about him. Prick from a lawyers office or some shit like that.

You nod. You ask. You write. Pulling meat off the bones of this case

You’ve no idea you’re being watched.

From behind the shiny windscreen of a Porsche no less. He sips his shitty weak coffee. Slips his eyes all over you as you stand there with the hookers. Unswerving determination behind those glasses lenses of yours.

You give each of them your card. You tell them to get in touch if another girl goes missing. Or if anything happens. Catch anyone skulking around. Ring you. Day or night.

Like you care toots. You just want your name in the paper right? They stand there with one hip cocked. Eyeing you with spiky pessimism.

You’re punchy. You meet eyes and you don’t shrivel away. “I care.”

You scribble your personal number on the back in red biro and hand it over. Shove it at them with hard core stoicism. You take the time to stand here and give a shit about these women.

You stand behind the yellow tape and write endlessly on your pad, the girls drift away from you. Heels clicking sharp on tarmac. Back into the filthy streets. Back to brutality and drugs and trying to make a living.

The cops buzz around the scene like the very same flies that drift off the trash. Shooing people off from the alleyway. Overflowing garbage trampled all over the sticky greasy puddles in the concrete.

Poor girl. No place to die.

You feel your heart sink low, dragging deeper down like sediment as you consider how it must have been to have it all end like that, in a place like this.

This shining golden city of angels and hope and promise, and this is the worst part of its seedy underbelly. Rock clubs of legendary name and girls selling themselves outside of it. Dying out in the back alley, being left to rot like trash.

Worst of all, is that no one gives a shit. Another hooker dead.

That’s LA’s normal beat baby.

Out the corner of your eye you catch that car again. Flash of it. Hot rod red. Waxed shiny. You know he’d be here somewhere.

He strides into the crime scene past you. Time of no concern. Dunkin’ coffee cup in hand. Licking sugar glaze off his lips. Box of six glazed his other hand. Like this is some sort of brunch date, and not the scene of a homicide.

The big boots are still a fixture. Bell bottom black trousers like he’s on the set of Starsky & Hutch. Sitting on that trim slutty waist. Sways with his hips as he walks. A satin black button up with a too big collar, undone to his sternum. Wearing a gold medallion chain with a saint, but he sure as hell ain’t one.

His neck swims in sainted things but his hands have committed all manner of sins.

Peers at you across those ray bans. Brown eyes swimming up your legs. Licks his lips. Sweet sugar.

That prim little blouse he swears he can see your bra poking through. Dainty lace cups holding your tits. Skirt grazing good big sexy handfuls of your hips.

Fuck you look heavenly.

“Well well. If it ain’t my little Birdie.” He calls across to you as the tape is lifted for him by a stony faced cop. Macabre grin.

You look up from your pad. Meet those swallowing chocolate eyes. He’s leering over his shades at you.

“Quinn.” You swallow.

Try to ignore the way the blaze of morning sun slips like liquid amber down his skin. Slipping between his pecs and collarbones like he’s bathed in mandarin orange oil. Glimmering off that necklace. Ocean cold blue neon from buzzing sign shot through those dark curls from behind. Bleeding out the alley.

You don’t know what it is about him that you like. He looks so wildly slutty that it’s making your mouth water. He’s definitely anything but boring, and your mind absolutely runs to a filthy place with that insinuation

He’s got you trying to recall the last instance you carved out time for some sex in your life. It had been months. The clench in your gut made you aware.

“Are we making a habit of this?” He checks. Narrows eyes at you all playfully.

You, me, the yellow crime scene tape. Mangled bodies. Sirens shrieking. Yeah. Romantic as hell-

“Let’s hope not. Detective. Hardly the stuff of foreplay.” You counter. “Can I get a quote for tomorrows edition.”

“Wouldn’t that be neat of me.” He teases.

You bite back annoyance. He sees it in the scrunched set of your jaw.

He brings up another doughnut to his lips and takes a huge untamed bite. Smirking at you.

He swaggers away and up to the dumpster. Prances around the evidence. Not that the killer left much- blood spattered shoe. The cut throat. Same old same old. Blah blah blah.

You sigh as you make ready to leave. Blood out of a stone. You won’t get anything else here.

Only a small scrap of what you’d hoped for clutched in your pocket. That will get you shunted back to your usual place on page six.

You turn away and begin to head up the Boulevard. Maybe you’d find a place for some breakfast. Your feet are aching. Head sour for lack of caffeine.

“Miss.” Comes a bark from a gruff cop. Who steps under the tape and towards you.

“Chronicle. I was just leaving.” You flash him your staff badge and back away thinking you’re gonna get chewed out for being nosy. You’re a girl reporter, the axe blows tend to fall heavier on you from grumpy cops. Sexist fuckers.

“Quinn asked me to give you this.”

He hands you an empty cigarette packet. Lucky Strikes. The paper is worn thin. Perfumed like it’s been in a purse. Not a pocket.

Skinny Tina smoked Lucky’s.

You look at the cop. He just rolls one shoulder up in a shrug. Not his job to care. Plods away.

You open the well thumbed crimson cigarette packet and inside is a line of scrawled text. Slanted spidery scrawl. Pin nib stabbing into the paper.

This is the work of a serial killer.

Your world grows cold. Sudden and terrible like someone’s sucked out all the dry choke of that LA heat. You thumb the packet in your hands. When you peer up and spin back to the cordon-

Quinn locks his eyes on you. And smiles. Those eyes glow at you.

There’s your story, Birdie.

Rain is LA is vanishingly rare. But when it comes, it comes fucking furiously.

It’s spitting down your windows so hard it’s like it will do anything in its power to shatter the glass.

Palm fronds from the stumpy trees outside your windows skate and scrape the glass and cast long fingers of spindly shadows. A faded essence of tropical paradise about this shabby place. The pink walls, palm trees. The empty pit of a mouldy swimming pool out back, filled with graffiti, crumbling tiles and trash.

The air walking home was so thick and smooth you could sip it. Full up of rain clouds and chasing away the humidity.

You turn home and show your back to this water-logged night. Your shoulders and hair damp from running from the station.

You draw your thin drapes but the red light soaking into the room through the shitty pink things. The light stains them up like they’ve been left bloodied.

Your bedside lamp glows in the corner. Peachy pink from the rosy shade. Your room is entirely bathed in lapping tongue red and rose pink.

You cranked your pathetic shower up high and stood under the warm spray until it drained to cold. Your scrubbed your hair from dripping to damp, and slipped on an old white t shirt that slipped off one shoulder. Black lace panties.

Hair still wet as you padded through to your bedroom. Empty glass of bourbon on the nightstand. Half full bottle. You’ll be dipping well into it tonight.

Today was long. Endlessly so. Dragging you down like you’ve got concrete blocks tied on your heels. Cutting into skin as it drags you down.

There’d been another one. Found tonight way out past skid row, under the 6th street bridge.

Stabbed in the back and left to bleed. A kid. A stupid punk teenager, with his apple green spiky hair, belt chains and ripped spray painted anarchist shirt. Bruises on his knuckles showed he put up a fight.

A bag of weed and ketamine in his pocket. Track marks up his arms. All tangled and fired up in fiery self-rebellion. And it led him to dying under a bridge like some junkie.

There was such a clamour at the crime scene cordon that you got physically shoved aside, and ended up skinning your knees in the process. Tearing your pantie hose. Walking home with blood peeling down your calves. Stuck with muck and grit.

You felt miserable. You were miserable. Another day designed to sink you. All teeth and stomping jaws clamping on your pride and happiness.

You hounded as much as you could squeeze out the cops on scene with bleeding knees burning. Hands scraped from your fall. Not much at all.

Your mood was as far in the gutter as it could get. The shower helped. You swiped stinging betadine across your broken skin and chucked back Bourbon to ignore the grating pain.

You drunkenly shuffle to your small strip of a kitchen. Aqua blue and white tiled lino. Cheap but clean. Your whole place was really. Pink drapes and thick blue carpets bleached and matted with age.

Bathed briefly in the blue light and puff of cold from the fridge. You reach and chuck more ice in your used glass and fill it up with even more brown liquor. Mind swirling away and you let it. Close your clunking fridge door with a sloppy hand.

The booze helped. You were ignoring the irony that after a hard day you were crawling into the bottom of an Old Taylor bottle.

You were supposed to be a man about all this. Man up. Well. You’re a woman and you have to do this job twice as hard and relentless and with double the scrutiny from men. And in heels. So you decided long ago;

Fuck that.

You laid on your bed and thought about having dinner. A sad tin of soup or some box of ramen you’d forgotten about in your cupboard.

But instead you just lay there on your sheets and let the bourbon take you away.

And then your phone rings. Shrills to attention on your bedside.

You twist your head back to look at it. Past your cheap peach satin sheets. Your crappy cracked pink telephone won’t shut the hell up.

You launch over the bed and sit up to answer it. If it’s another call out to a murder site, you swear you’ll quit. “Yes?”

There’s a second or two of huffing crackling static the other end. And then,

“Nasty night isn’t it?”

That voice makes your whirling head sit up and pay attention. Oh that voice. He hears the way skin grazes on your covers. The pull of your lungs seeking breath. That makes him outwardly think of your tits too and he can’t help his mind wandering off into filthy plains.

“Quinn?” You check. Your mind is curling and blurry. But by now you’d know his tone when you hear it.

He bites his lip cause it gets him hard. Rubs his fingertips into the square box of the telephone he’s curled against. Sweat on his fingers chafes against the black plastic.

“Hey Birdie.”

“How did you get this number?” Your drunk mouth blurts out. Your tongue feels all fat and clumsy with drink. Loose- even.

He chuckles. It’s breathy and it’s beautiful. Slips like melted chocolate into your ear through the receiver. It may be a smooth sound but it does something sharp and twisting to your gut. A tug.

“I have my ways.” You can hear his stupid big grin.

“Cop ways I’m guessing?” You counter. He detects a tone levelled at him. Flash a badge and he can own this town. Walk in anywhere.

You reach over and bring the phone onto the bed. The cord of it trailing behind as you wrap the coiled wire around your finger. You sit up and cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder.

Eyes flicking over for a second to that well thumbed Lucky Strike’s packet. The one he wrote in and gave to you.

“I don’t need to go flashing my badge as much as you’d think. I can be very persuasive.” He charms. Like he could pluck down all the hanging stars and set them at your feet.

You don’t doubt that. Silver tongues and doe brown eyes seldom mix.

“You weren’t at the scene today. Worried me a little.” He adds.

“I worried you? You hardly know me.” You state.

“I personally-“ There’s a clink as he presses his hand flat to his collarbone. Clink of a chain. “Think we should change that.”

You sigh in confusion because you just can’t think of what else to do. Is he asking you out? Is he hitting on you? Is that what’s happening here?

“I was at the 6th street bridge today. Up until I got knocked down by the clamouring TV and camera crews and skinned my knees. And then it started to rain, I was getting nowhere so I called it a day.” You offered up.

The blazes up something in him. Sparks churning friction against the liquid gunpowder of his temper. All it takes is a spark. He has to take a deep breath at the thought of you bleeding.

“You alright?”

No not really.

I saw a kid brutally mangled and stabbed today. Skin ripped where someone tore him open with a knife.

I’m fucking lonely in this city and I have no friends for miles.

My job is the fucking pits of Tartarus some days.

“Ask me after my hangover tomorrow. When I don’t feel like a failure. And I didn’t see a dead kid torn to strips. And I’m- sober.” You curse under your breath.

Bulldog tone of yours all snappy and treading the borders of your patience. Bone weary.

“That sounds like a lot on your plate.” He offers. He sounds tender. The tenderest thing you’ve heard in a while.

“It sure as shit is. But I’m not sure I should be venting to a cop about it.” You admit gruffly. Standing up and holding the phone to your ear. Idly gazing at the rain outside. Coming down in sheets, hammering cold at your window ledges.

You pour yourself out more bourbon. Cause fuck it.

Oh, you play spiky and icy and he likes it. He’ll play you into his hands. You’ll be worth the wait.

“What if I’m one of the good ones.” He grins. Licks his lips. Outright lies.

“Don’t play games with me, Quinn.” You warn.

Funny; that was his line. Usually with a knife in his hand edged against a fragile throat.

“What if I can help you out with some private information on these cases.” He leans right in and purrs into the phone. It makes you feel squirmy. Like you’re under his gaze again. That flirty one that gets peered over his ray bans.

“And why on earth would you be doing that for me?” You keep your head screwed on straight. What little sense there is left that Bourbon didn’t steal.

“Mutually beneficial arrangement.” He drawls.

“Listen Detective, if you think you’re gonna get your dick wet just cause you toss me some scraps, you’ve got another thing coming, and it’ll be my heel stabbed in your eye.” You promise with punch.

He chuckles. He can’t deny the threat of that and the thought of fucking you had him harder than he’d care to admit. The glimpse of you he had in his head on your back and taking it. Indecent. Glorious.

“I’m no idiot, Birdie.”

His dark eyes graze through the glazed rain walls of the phone booth. Glass striped with wriggling rain and haloed car lights burst through in reds and searing white. The Porsche sits waiting behind him. Dotted in silver.

He can see you through your window.

He’s across the parking lot in the phone booth. One arm braced against the metal wall. Eyes pinned on the slice of that tongue pink room and the vague shape of you he can see through the thin drapes.

White shirt. No bra. Lace panties. Sat on your bed in that entirely pink-red washed room. Light kissing and wrapping your skin. And you’ve no clue he can see you.

You’ve no idea how bad he truly is for you. It’s delicious that.

“Why did you give me that cigarette packet, Quinn?”

He’s quick to answer. He’s thought about this answer. “Leverage.”

“Leverage?” You repeat like you can’t comprehend the word.

“Over those assholes at your paper who think that you don’t deserve your spot alongside them. Scraping together your sanity for every shot at the front page.” He says.

He cut to the quick. Like he’s torn your skin away to see in. Your dimly lit life with your bottles of booze and your struggles. Somehow he pieced you together so well it was like he had your blueprints.

“You don’t know me.” You gasp out. It’s incredulous. He’s making your head spin.

“I know a lot more than you’d think. It’s my job, after all. I like to think I’m good at it.”

“That sounds like a lot of ego talking.”

“In that case you should let me take you out for lunch tomorrow and see for yourself. Buy you something to soothe that little Bourbon hangover.”

Your spine flashes clammy.

“How the hell do you know what I’m drinking?”

Your head is thumping. Dread curling horrid up in your stomach like dead burnt leaves come fall. Crunching and crushing.

“Like I told you. Birdie. I’m just that good.” He chuckles.

Oh but he isn’t.

There’s a click and he promptly hangs up.

You’re left there watching the rain skate furiously down your windows. Listening to the dead tone on the other end blare. Thunder grazes the valley.

It feels more sinister than it should.

My Taglist for my JQ babes: (if I’ve missed anyone out I’m so sorry !) if anyone would like to be added drop me a comment on here babes !

@indouloureux @stiegasaw @munsonquinns @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @ceriseheaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @starbxcks @morganamoonstone @ramona-thorns @gvtosbith @poppy-metal @munsonswhore86 @munsonlov3r @lunatictardis @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @harrys-tittie @anaisweird @cerinthussulpicia @cinnamoncunt

#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn stranger things #i would die for this man #Eddie munson #joseph quinn gif #joseph quinn character #joseph quinn characters #punkwrites #serial killer #killer #murderer #stalking #crime scene #1980’s LA #pretty woman vibes #pretty woman

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