( shanks had been so handicapped in the village that he'd never had a chance to sense any of the unique auras of the straw hat crew. it wouldn't have been entirely necessary, but it would have been a convenient way to check in on them if he needed to. largely, he stays out of their business, because it's not his place; he's not their captain nor their father, and they're all perfectly capable of handling their own problems. but here? he'd be remiss if he didn't at least acquaint himself, in case the need arises. (and zoro, he's heard, does have a tendency to get lost.)
he's lying on a lawnchair out by the lake when he zeroes in on zoro's aura, bright green and strong-willed, moving through a series of familiar training exercises. normally, he wouldn't intrude, but — )
Take a break, Zoro. I can feel your frustration from here.
( the vibration of his phone in his shorts pocket is, actually, enough to get zoro to finally take a fucking break. it's with a grunt that he drops his barbell onto its rack, collapsing back onto the bench, almost dizzy from exertion as he lays there, panting, trying to get his bearings again.
blearily, he squints up at his phone, propped up on his chest because his arms feel like fucking mashed potatoes right now — and honestly, it's the whole proper grammar shit that makes him double check the username. not koby. shanks? huh.
zoro scoots from under the barbell and sits up, looking left and right around the otherwise empty gym and then right back down at his phone. )
you spying on me or something?
( just to be sure, he looks up towards the window — still nobody. )
( sleeping with zoro is like sleeping with an oversized radiator in bed. apparently, somethings stayed changed after his brief stint as an overgrown kitty — he still likes sleeping in the middle of the bed, body carved around whoever he's with like a protective little guard cat, who insists on payment in cuddles. nami complains, but really, she's thrilled. maybe this whole breakfast ultimatum was a slightly childish endeavor, but she can admit she's never felt better about the pair of them — sometimes zoro comes in the morning, or sometimes he spends the night, but every morning regardless he's in her room, a hand in hers, guiding her to breakfast. because she asked him to do it, because he has something to prove, because he loves her. imagine that.
plastered against his chest, nami unconsciously kicks out a leg from the inferno of blankets, her cheek against his sweaty, bare chest, seemingly unbothered by the summer heat they make between them. in her usual pajamas — underwear and t-shirt — nami grunts awake, surging up on instinct to press her mouth against the curve of his neck. bullying him onto his back so she can take her shirt off, or so she can do something to cool down. only, when she gets him on his back and her eyelids flutter open, she finds it's light out — light enough to be past sunrise and, peering over at zoro's phone on the side table, a minute off until his alarm goes off. that is, the alarm he set for breakfast, the alarm enabling him to actually succeed at being a good boyfriend. the alarm that in turn forces nami to accept his feelings.
when his phone lights up in the split second before the alarm goes off, nami's still sleeping brain cooks up a trap for him, reaching over and shutting the thing off, observing zoro still asleep beneath her. she can make them miss breakfast — can return proof in her own right that, actually, he doesn't love her as much as he thinks he does. it's foolproof, maybe. or it's at least fun.
from her perch on him, nami straightens up, body rolling against his, his cock rutting through the fabric of his boxers against her panty clad pussy. it feels wrong to do while he sleeps, but oddly — kind of nice, too. zoro doesn't require much to excite his dick, and once her fingers lower down the elastic of his boxers, he's already stiff in her hands, a glob of spit in her palm enabling her strokes to be wet, languid, and smooth. nami uses him, a little excessively, rubbing his cock through her panties, tucking it into her own waistband, rolling his swollen cockhead against her clit until she's slippery and wet, until he slides home right inside her without any resistance, hips flush to hips, her head thrown back in lust. she was already sweating but now it's a different kind of heat — palms flat on his pecs, hips lifting and rolling slowly around his cock, trying to keep him asleep as long as she can while she uses him, getting herself off on his unconscious body.
hopefully he wakes up so horny, he forgets the deal and they miss breakfast altogether. that's the goal, at least — the swiftly disappearing goal as nami rides his cock, lips bitten to keep quiet, tits bouncing as she picks up speed. )
( it's been a little over half the month so far, and honestly, zoro's starting to think that sucking matt's dick was the best thing he ever did for he and nami's relationship.
— okay, not really, but after all of the heartache, their relationship's deepened, their bond strengthened all because of nami's veritable ultimatum to him: if you come by my room every day early for the next month. and you walk me to breakfast. then i'll believe you. sleep in, or show up late? hit the gym and miss breakfast altogether? zoro's done for.
he needs her to believe that he loves her, because he does — and there's no doubt in his mind about that. not after everything they've been through, after everything they've done together.
it's why he's been so diligent about setting alarms in the morning, giving himself more than enough time to get dressed and focus on the route from his bedroom to hers so his mind doesn't wander and make his feet wander, too, like they tend to do during the day when he occasionally finds strange new parts of the mansion to nap in. no, the route to nami's room is well-mapped in zoro's head — so good that the navigator herself could've made it. he's never been in a relationship before, but this is probably ... what other people do, right? hold hands on their way there. talk about mundane things like the best time of day for sunbathing, the different islands they'd been to back in their world, zoro's training plans for later in the day. eat a few bites of her fruit-laden pancakes even though he doesn't really like sweet things, but he promised nami that he'd split them with her.
it's nice and it's normal and zoro doesn't even find himself groaning when his alarm goes off in the mornings.
the nights that he sleeps over are definitely better, though, admittedly. sleepily making out, slow traces of his tongue against hers, blearily blinking his eyes open and lazily kissing her again like he didn't just fall asleep, a hand on her ass when he finally gives into it and drifts off.
zoro's started to get used to these earlier mornings, though — which is why, even when his alarm doesn't go off, he still just barely starts to wake up, eyes still closed, pure muscle memory. what's different, though, is the weight of nami on top of him, her pussy wet as she almost leisurely grinds against his cock, sliding easily between her slick folds with the pre leaking from his slit after all of her teasing. mmm. it's a good dream — which is why zoro allows himself to drift right back into unconsciousness, only a small sound leaving him when she sinks down onto him, a perfect fit. he doesn't need to be awake for nami to know how much zoro — his body enjoys it, his core flexing when she tightens around him on a roll of her hips, a sharper inhale before his breathing regulates again, slow, downright peaceful. )
( zoro glances up to catch a glimpse of nami across the room, brows seeming perpetually furrowed. at the very least, he lets go of the hilt of the wado, letting it rest on the floor beside him, fingers flexing when he realizes how tightly he's been clutching it. with a small sigh, he draws his knees in towards his chest, practically huddling over his phone. )
[ At some point in the afternoon, just as Matt's last breath leaves his body, a small golden light appears in his room. It's about the size of a marble, and instantly, it flutters through the air as if on an errand it knows well. Walls and locked doors are no impediment to it, as it isn't strictly solid, and it leaves no trace behind it.
Eventually, the little bauble finds Zoro. It winds and dances around him, gentle as a blown kiss but insistent all the same. If he follows it through the halls, the light will direct him to a folded slip of paper with his name on it. ]
I'm sorry I couldn't help you get it back. I hope you find it somewhere out there.
( At some point during the day, Zoro will find a bottle of expensive looking wine on his doorstep, along with a card that reads "Heard it tastes better when stolen from the basement. Happy birthday. Luffy." )
( when zoro wakes up in the morning, there is a little present box outside the door to his room, very lovingly wrapped up in a green ribbon. inside — a well made collar and leash, the gold tag on the collar laser etched with the name nami on it. underneath are three earrings studs instead of his usual dangly, the decoration on each made from polymer clay. a lime, a lemon, and an orange respectively.
deeper in the box, hidden by tissue paper just in case someone went snooping, is a polaroid picture of nami. written on the back —
[ cooking in a cloud of sugar sweetness, his cigarettes replaced just for the hour with the saccharine box won from the tennis competition earlier in the week, sanji tries his damnedest to focus on icing the sticky date cake as a practice option for aemond's (stupid) request for his nephew's birthday. it's an easy task, one he should conceivably be able to do with his eyes closed. it's icing on a damn cake. and yet his attention keeps wavering to the... thing moving atop the flour-dusted counter top. the shitty swordsman's prize, which is just a pile of moss that may or may not be alive.
in the shape of a goddamn cat.
more specifically, a kitten, because it's tiny. it's just a heap of quivering greenery, moving about curiously, and sanji has already had to scoop it up and place it into a clean mixing bowl just so it wouldn't get in the way or crawl face-first into a knife or find itself in the oven while he worked. he looks at it now, and it looks back at him, and sanji puffs out rose-scented smoke as something clenches in his gut. ]
come get your shitty cat. i'm trying to work. i'll make it into a stir-fry if you don't hurry up.
( honestly, it takes zoro a reread to realize what the hell sanji's talking about because he's so used to being called a shitty cat. )
relax i'm trying to look for my magic beer cup it probably just wants somewhere warm to sleep and the kitchen is warm
( or at least that's what zoro used to do, curled up next to the oven with his tail curled around himself to fight off the urge to shiver so hard his teeth hurt from the frigid cold of the village. )
Zoro, I got a question It's been heavy in my heart and mind for a while and it's no biggie but I figure I should ask before the next weird thing happens and I'm too busy freaking out to ask about daily life yknow?
[The gift comes wrapped meticulously in paper that, while not strictly holiday-themed is nevertheless very appropriate, considering who it’s from. The gift is inside, nestled in pale blue tissue paper:
[ he doesn’t know nami’s on the list of performers until it’s too late to do anything about it. too late to back out. too late to unsign his lobster’s death warrant, since his spectacular seafood pasta recipe calls for one fresh lobster and he intends to follow through. so he watches nami’s performance from backstage, which makes him feel desperately horny and miserably depressed, a lethal combination, and pretends he doesn’t see zoro in the crowd.
zoro, who came for nami and not him. he can’t exactly be mad about it, since he hadn’t told zoro he wanted him here or that he was even in the show. he hasn’t been telling zoro much of anything, because it actually, genuinely hurts to look at him or even think about him, and it’s much easier to slide back into old habits and let inexplicable enmity fester between them. he’s dumped zoro enough times that it shouldn’t be hard anymore, but he’s never done it when he didn’t want to. but cutting away rotting flesh to preserve the rest of the meat is a necessary course of action. even unskilled cooks know that.
after his performance, sanji returns backstage in a rustle of pink and sky-high heels, his makeup intact despite the sheen of sweat on his skin from the steaming heat during his cooking show. jinx, for all her annoying blabbering, had done a decent job painting him up, and now he owes her another blue dessert that he’ll enjoy every moment of creating. he’s reaching for the gauzy, furred robe so he can lounge the rest of the show away when he spots a figure leaning against the back wall, near the table of food. whoever it is isn’t dressed in anything special, so sanji juts his cigarette in their direction with a scowl. ]
Get dressed or get the hell out. [ he stalks over, tossing a lock of his blond wig over his shoulder, then stops at the familiar sight of the last person he wants to see, his scowl marring his done-up face. ] What the hell are you doing here? Nami’s show is over.
[ it takes an effort to remain stone-faced when his heart seizes and his already flushed cheeks bloom hotter, all his earlier horniness running him aground. ]
Don’t make me kick you out again. [ it’s meant to be a threat, but a thread of desperation runs through his words. don’t make me do this again. don’t make me hurt you. ] Idiot.
( a drag show? it's a first for zoro, that's for sure. weirdly enough, it wasn't even nami who invited him but koby, who told zoro he was doing something called "stage managing" — so, ever the supportive bro and ever looking for an excuse to drink and enjoy himself, he sits at his own little table and watches the acts.
nami's act is unexpected, his face going hot when he sees the straps of her harness sticking out from her green velvet shorts. even her name — mike hunt, ha ha, he gets it — can't stop his sheepish smile as he watches her performance. koby's invitation makes a hell of a lot more sense, until —
it doesn't. it's time for the talent show and candy graces the stage with a live lobster and a huge knife (is that the one he found for sanji for christmas?) in tow, pink frills and long blonde hair and mismatched eyes framed by long lashes. seeing sanji at all feels like a punch in the gut after a few weeks of trying to ignore him (like he can ignore him. like he wants to ignore him) and go about his boring fucking days in this shitty mansion. watching candy perform, zoro decides that maybe he should just fight koby because if he's — managing the stage, or whatever, surely he had to know who would be performing. and maybe zoro hasn't explicitly said that sanji broke up with him, but. it feels obvious, at least to him.
that's how he ends up backstage, looking for a familiar head of pink hair and instead finding ... pink heels and a long, fur-trimmed robe, barely concealing legs that suddenly seem to go on for miles that zoro can't seem to look away from, another punch to the gut. ) I was looking for Koby, ( which isn't a lie, but it might seem like one with how long he ends up staring, eyes begrudgingly sweeping upwards until he meets sanji's.
he can school his face into something neutral, too, even if he mentally can't decide whether he wants to kiss sanji or kick his ass. ) Not you.
( except he found him, and isn't making any effort to leave, arms folding over his chest. )
i'm not sorry that i died. i've been dead before, technically. my shitty father told the whole world i was dead and locked me under our castle. i had a gravestone and everything. life goes on. dying again really doesn't feel that different from the first time.
what i am sorry about is that i made you do it. that was shitty of me. i should've done it myself.
oh, and when i told you to fuck off last time i didn't mean it like that. i just needed to make sure nami was taken care of. and about what you said to me? me too. but you still lose to me. i loved you first.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text | un: KINGOFTHEPIRATES
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probably about 2 months?
the first couple of days were kind of a blur but that seems about right
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text | un: shanks
he's lying on a lawnchair out by the lake when he zeroes in on zoro's aura, bright green and strong-willed, moving through a series of familiar training exercises. normally, he wouldn't intrude, but — )
Take a break, Zoro. I can feel your frustration from here.
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blearily, he squints up at his phone, propped up on his chest because his arms feel like fucking mashed potatoes right now — and honestly, it's the whole proper grammar shit that makes him double check the username. not koby. shanks? huh.
zoro scoots from under the barbell and sits up, looking left and right around the otherwise empty gym and then right back down at his phone. )
you spying on me or something?
( just to be sure, he looks up towards the window — still nobody. )
shanks? like
red haired shanks
luffy's dad shanks
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sometime post-pushups cause I crave stupidity
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now i have to think about what you owe me
drink some water
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text — un: NAMIGATOR
hey so who was is that you blew in otherworld? just wondering.
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this feels like a trap. or a test. or some secret third thing. )
his name's matt
he's nice
( she didn't aSK, but. )
what's up
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1/2
2/2
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text | un: KINGOFTHEPIRATES
would you rather fight an elephant sized duck or a group of duck sized elephants?
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i'd slice them all in half
who the hell is roman?
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action — cw: nsfw, somno
plastered against his chest, nami unconsciously kicks out a leg from the inferno of blankets, her cheek against his sweaty, bare chest, seemingly unbothered by the summer heat they make between them. in her usual pajamas — underwear and t-shirt — nami grunts awake, surging up on instinct to press her mouth against the curve of his neck. bullying him onto his back so she can take her shirt off, or so she can do something to cool down. only, when she gets him on his back and her eyelids flutter open, she finds it's light out — light enough to be past sunrise and, peering over at zoro's phone on the side table, a minute off until his alarm goes off. that is, the alarm he set for breakfast, the alarm enabling him to actually succeed at being a good boyfriend. the alarm that in turn forces nami to accept his feelings.
when his phone lights up in the split second before the alarm goes off, nami's still sleeping brain cooks up a trap for him, reaching over and shutting the thing off, observing zoro still asleep beneath her. she can make them miss breakfast — can return proof in her own right that, actually, he doesn't love her as much as he thinks he does. it's foolproof, maybe. or it's at least fun.
from her perch on him, nami straightens up, body rolling against his, his cock rutting through the fabric of his boxers against her panty clad pussy. it feels wrong to do while he sleeps, but oddly — kind of nice, too. zoro doesn't require much to excite his dick, and once her fingers lower down the elastic of his boxers, he's already stiff in her hands, a glob of spit in her palm enabling her strokes to be wet, languid, and smooth. nami uses him, a little excessively, rubbing his cock through her panties, tucking it into her own waistband, rolling his swollen cockhead against her clit until she's slippery and wet, until he slides home right inside her without any resistance, hips flush to hips, her head thrown back in lust. she was already sweating but now it's a different kind of heat — palms flat on his pecs, hips lifting and rolling slowly around his cock, trying to keep him asleep as long as she can while she uses him, getting herself off on his unconscious body.
hopefully he wakes up so horny, he forgets the deal and they miss breakfast altogether. that's the goal, at least — the swiftly disappearing goal as nami rides his cock, lips bitten to keep quiet, tits bouncing as she picks up speed. )
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— okay, not really, but after all of the heartache, their relationship's deepened, their bond strengthened all because of nami's veritable ultimatum to him: if you come by my room every day early for the next month. and you walk me to breakfast. then i'll believe you. sleep in, or show up late? hit the gym and miss breakfast altogether? zoro's done for.
he needs her to believe that he loves her, because he does — and there's no doubt in his mind about that. not after everything they've been through, after everything they've done together.
it's why he's been so diligent about setting alarms in the morning, giving himself more than enough time to get dressed and focus on the route from his bedroom to hers so his mind doesn't wander and make his feet wander, too, like they tend to do during the day when he occasionally finds strange new parts of the mansion to nap in. no, the route to nami's room is well-mapped in zoro's head — so good that the navigator herself could've made it. he's never been in a relationship before, but this is probably ... what other people do, right? hold hands on their way there. talk about mundane things like the best time of day for sunbathing, the different islands they'd been to back in their world, zoro's training plans for later in the day. eat a few bites of her fruit-laden pancakes even though he doesn't really like sweet things, but he promised nami that he'd split them with her.
it's nice and it's normal and zoro doesn't even find himself groaning when his alarm goes off in the mornings.
the nights that he sleeps over are definitely better, though, admittedly. sleepily making out, slow traces of his tongue against hers, blearily blinking his eyes open and lazily kissing her again like he didn't just fall asleep, a hand on her ass when he finally gives into it and drifts off.
zoro's started to get used to these earlier mornings, though — which is why, even when his alarm doesn't go off, he still just barely starts to wake up, eyes still closed, pure muscle memory. what's different, though, is the weight of nami on top of him, her pussy wet as she almost leisurely grinds against his cock, sliding easily between her slick folds with the pre leaking from his slit after all of her teasing. mmm. it's a good dream — which is why zoro allows himself to drift right back into unconsciousness, only a small sound leaving him when she sinks down onto him, a perfect fit. he doesn't need to be awake for nami to know how much zoro — his body enjoys it, his core flexing when she tightens around him on a roll of her hips, a sharper inhale before his breathing regulates again, slow, downright peaceful. )
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text — un: NAMIGATOR
not in the mood
( after a second, )
not feeling good
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i'll stop at the dining room and swipe a tangerine for you just in case
you want anything else?
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text | un: KINGOFTHEPIRATES
(attachment.jpg)
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that doesn't even look like me
( zoro. please. )
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un: koby
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i was 13 which was like a hundred years ago
a couple weeks maybe? a month?
( it's a small wonder that he didn't get an infection and lose his ear entirely, truly. )
what's with the sudden interest in my ear health
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un: koby
forward dated after the votes bc i def didn't miss this tag obviously
someone should be keeping watch over you tiny marine
( after the voting, he's Worried. )
y e s excellent
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text — un: NAMIGATOR
( nami is actually in the same room as him — but her throat hurts, and she doesn't feel like talking. especially not in front of everyone. )
you look like a rain cloud
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( zoro glances up to catch a glimpse of nami across the room, brows seeming perpetually furrowed. at the very least, he lets go of the hilt of the wado, letting it rest on the floor beside him, fingers flexing when he realizes how tightly he's been clutching it. with a small sigh, he draws his knees in towards his chest, practically huddling over his phone. )
besides
i'm not brooding
( he says, mid-brooding. )
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delivery.
Eventually, the little bauble finds Zoro. It winds and dances around him, gentle as a blown kiss but insistent all the same. If he follows it through the halls, the light will direct him to a folded slip of paper with his name on it. ]
I'm sorry I couldn't help you get it back. I hope you find it somewhere out there.
Matt
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text
hey
thanks
you wanna share it?
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delivery — un: NAMIGATOR (nsfw)
deeper in the box, hidden by tissue paper just in case someone went snooping, is a polaroid picture of nami. written on the back —
happy birthday
don't jerk off too much
and signed n. with a lipstick kiss! )
— mosskitty angst
in the shape of a goddamn cat.
more specifically, a kitten, because it's tiny. it's just a heap of quivering greenery, moving about curiously, and sanji has already had to scoop it up and place it into a clean mixing bowl just so it wouldn't get in the way or crawl face-first into a knife or find itself in the oven while he worked. he looks at it now, and it looks back at him, and sanji puffs out rose-scented smoke as something clenches in his gut. ]
come get your shitty cat.
i'm trying to work. i'll make it into a stir-fry if you don't hurry up.
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relax
i'm trying to look for my magic beer cup
it probably just wants somewhere warm to sleep and the kitchen is warm
( or at least that's what zoro used to do, curled up next to the oven with his tail curled around himself to fight off the urge to shiver so hard his teeth hurt from the frigid cold of the village. )
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text | un: the great usopp
It's been heavy in my heart and mind for a while
and it's no biggie but I figure I should ask before the next weird thing happens and I'm too busy freaking out to ask about daily life yknow?
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what's up?
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sorry im done i promise
IM CRYING AND OBSESSED
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IM CRYINGGGGGG
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text — un: LOVECOOK
i need you to go cut down a tree
a good one
don't bring back a shitty ugly tree for koby's party
text — un: LOVECOOK
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you should've just come and woke me up, idiot
i'll go find a tree
sorry
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🎁 delivery, 12/24
The note, on thick, cream-colored card stock, is in a somewhat wobbly, but earnest hand:]
backstage @ the drag show
zoro, who came for nami and not him. he can’t exactly be mad about it, since he hadn’t told zoro he wanted him here or that he was even in the show. he hasn’t been telling zoro much of anything, because it actually, genuinely hurts to look at him or even think about him, and it’s much easier to slide back into old habits and let inexplicable enmity fester between them. he’s dumped zoro enough times that it shouldn’t be hard anymore, but he’s never done it when he didn’t want to. but cutting away rotting flesh to preserve the rest of the meat is a necessary course of action. even unskilled cooks know that.
after his performance, sanji returns backstage in a rustle of pink and sky-high heels, his makeup intact despite the sheen of sweat on his skin from the steaming heat during his cooking show. jinx, for all her annoying blabbering, had done a decent job painting him up, and now he owes her another blue dessert that he’ll enjoy every moment of creating. he’s reaching for the gauzy, furred robe so he can lounge the rest of the show away when he spots a figure leaning against the back wall, near the table of food. whoever it is isn’t dressed in anything special, so sanji juts his cigarette in their direction with a scowl. ]
Get dressed or get the hell out. [ he stalks over, tossing a lock of his blond wig over his shoulder, then stops at the familiar sight of the last person he wants to see, his scowl marring his done-up face. ] What the hell are you doing here? Nami’s show is over.
[ it takes an effort to remain stone-faced when his heart seizes and his already flushed cheeks bloom hotter, all his earlier horniness running him aground. ]
Don’t make me kick you out again. [ it’s meant to be a threat, but a thread of desperation runs through his words. don’t make me do this again. don’t make me hurt you. ] Idiot.
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nami's act is unexpected, his face going hot when he sees the straps of her harness sticking out from her green velvet shorts. even her name — mike hunt, ha ha, he gets it — can't stop his sheepish smile as he watches her performance. koby's invitation makes a hell of a lot more sense, until —
it doesn't. it's time for the talent show and candy graces the stage with a live lobster and a huge knife (is that the one he found for sanji for christmas?) in tow, pink frills and long blonde hair and mismatched eyes framed by long lashes. seeing sanji at all feels like a punch in the gut after a few weeks of trying to ignore him (like he can ignore him. like he wants to ignore him) and go about his boring fucking days in this shitty mansion. watching candy perform, zoro decides that maybe he should just fight koby because if he's — managing the stage, or whatever, surely he had to know who would be performing. and maybe zoro hasn't explicitly said that sanji broke up with him, but. it feels obvious, at least to him.
that's how he ends up backstage, looking for a familiar head of pink hair and instead finding ... pink heels and a long, fur-trimmed robe, barely concealing legs that suddenly seem to go on for miles that zoro can't seem to look away from, another punch to the gut. ) I was looking for Koby, ( which isn't a lie, but it might seem like one with how long he ends up staring, eyes begrudgingly sweeping upwards until he meets sanji's.
he can school his face into something neutral, too, even if he mentally can't decide whether he wants to kiss sanji or kick his ass. ) Not you.
( except he found him, and isn't making any effort to leave, arms folding over his chest. )
text — un: NAMI-SWAN, substanced era
How are you? Do you ever think about getting married?
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i'm okay
( except not really, because zoro ran into sanji at the gym and it was very.
fucked up.
so maybe the unsettled feeling he has while reading (and rereading, and rereading) nami's text is just residual from that. probably. )
well
i've never really uh
thought about it i guess? because there's always something else going on.
do you?
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cw: breeding kink just in hindsight
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text — un: LOVECOOK
i'm not sorry that i died. i've been dead before, technically.
my shitty father told the whole world i was dead and locked me under our castle. i had a gravestone and everything. life goes on.
dying again really doesn't feel that different from the first time.
what i am sorry about is that i made you do it. that was shitty of me.
i should've done it myself.
oh, and when i told you to fuck off last time
i didn't mean it like that. i just needed to make sure nami was taken care of.
and about what you said to me?
me too. but you still lose to me.
i loved you first.