Enjin is not supposed to be talking to anyone tonight, heck even to a complete stranger. And suddenly the idiot's trapped in a conversation that makes no sense and crosses no universes on paper. This was supposed to be a quick hang up that his collar picked up, the most sensible response when life gives you lemons, is you ignore them. Life, instead, introduced you to Enjin, but you're no lemon.
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Content: Fluff, angst and fluff, eventual smut (later chapter) yearning, angst and feels, alternate universe-canon divergence, some weird alternate universe going on, angst with happy ending. Some creative liberty was added. 4 chapters mini series. ANGST & YEARNING. our man is brave enough to cry. Multiverse! This is giving Iris by googoodolls, ig idk. Reader is not from enjin's universe!
Gachiakuta Disclaimer; This series contains unofficial fan-made content inspired by Gachiakuta. All rights to the original series, characters, terminology, and concepts belong to Urana-sensei/Andou-sensei and Kodansha.
No infringement intended.
Chapters
Chapter 1: Who're you?
Chapter 2: Still Don't Know My Name
Chapter 3: I'm Dreaming About All The Possibilities
Chapter 4: Hey, Wrong Number
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Pics above were edited for chapter aesthetics. I do not claim ownership of the original art.
Posted by @hachihanasposts, if you see my works elsewhere, then it's stolen. (Please let me know 🙏)
“So it’s either live with what happened or live without you? I can handle the first, I could not bear the latter, my light, so please don’t make me.”
Genre/Tropes: angst (with happy ending), hurt/comfort, established relationship
Word Count: 5,7k
Warnings: none
A/N: This scenario oughta have been done a hundred times, angst potential is just too good, but interrupting my Whole Cake binge with a Moulin Rouge rewatch really made me wanna write my own version, so let’s goo
“Sanji!!”
He doesn’t turn back around at the sound of your voice, no matter how much he may want to, but of course you catch up to him and grab a hold of his hand, forcing him to a halt. He knows he’ll break if he so much as looks at you, so his eyes stay downcast at your intertwined hands as you lean in close so only he can hear. “Whatever they’re threatening you with, we can take them. You know our captain, you know this crew, have some faith in us. Come home, okay? Come back to me.”
It takes every ounce of willpower he has left not to collapse into your waiting arms right here and now, to pretend all of this was nothing more than a long, horrid nightmare. But then you move your hands just slightly, jostling the golden bracelets still tightly closed around his wrists like a hangman’s noose and reality comes crashing back down on him with enough force to almost knock him to his knees. A reality in which the demons from his past that he so desperately tried to keep from reaching their depraved claws out towards his family, towards you, are a few mere feet away, ready to tear you all to pieces just for the fun of it if they decide he takes too long. The thought of you still holding onto him when the explosives are set off makes his stomach turn so violently, he almost loses last night’s dinner on the grass.
You have to leave. He has to make you leave. And just like he’s already done to his captain, he’ll have to hurt you to do it, even as he can feel every single cell in his body rebelling against it, rejecting the mere notion, turning his blood to poison in his veins.
Cold isn’t a word anyone who’s met the cook of the Strawhat Pirates would use to describe him. He’s passion and kindness and warmth; the sun reflecting off the ocean’s waves on a summer’s day in glittering patterns and the vast, bright blue sky on a clear, beautiful spring day, the smell of flowers on the breeze.
And yet his gaze in this moment can’t be described as anything but, the soft blue of his eyes replaced with sharp ice, scowling at you like you’re not worth more than the dirt beneath his shoes.
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you, we all told you, we’re bringing you home. Now drop the arrogant prince act and—”
“No, no, what are you doing here, I mean? I thought my message was quite clear.”
“I don’t— What are you talking about?”
He barks out a laugh then, harsh and cold and cruel, unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him before.
“Wow, you’re something else, you know that? I quite literally ran away from you to get married to someone else and you still don’t get it?” The wicked grin he’s regarded you with until then slips from his lips, leaving something apathetic and bored in it’s wake. “I’m done with you. Get lost.”
“And if I don’t?” you challenge right back, crossing your arms over your chest, utterly unimpressed with his performance so far.
Shit. You’re not buying a single word he’s saying. He needs to do worse.
“Then you’ll look even more pathetic and sad than you already do, but I suppose you must be used to that by now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs, stepping closer and crowding your space. “It means I’m about to marry a beautiful, sweet woman who also happens to be the daughter of an Emperor of the Sea. So what could I possibly still want from a dirty, used little lab rat like you?”
It’s brief, barely even there and if he didn’t know you as well as he did, he probably would’ve missed it, but Sanji catches the flicker of hurt and uncertainty in your otherwise defiant stare, the slight change in posture as your shoulders grow tense. It’s the right angle, the right button - now all he has to do is push.
But he absolutely can’t bring himself to do it while holding your gaze, so he drops his eyes to his hands again, picking at a nonexistent loose thread on his sleeve.
“If I’m so beneath you, why even put up with me for so long?”
“Honestly? Because you were there and so ridiculously willing. Easy and convenient, nothing more.”
“So look me in the eyes and say that.”
“Good grief…” Sanji groans under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, helplessly trying to keep his voice from cracking and foolishly ignoring the burn of tears behind his eyes.
Fuck.
He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t.
He has to.
He has made damn well sure you’d never doubt his love for you - and now it’s coming back to mock him.
Sanji curls two fingers under your chin to tilt your head up in a familiar gesture of warmth and tenderness in a pointless effort to lull himself into a false sense of security.
“You want the truth? You are a needy, clingy and exhausting little thing. Always looking for attention, needing reassurance and affection, disgustingly desperate for someone to love you. All it took was a hollow smile here, a fabricated compliment there and you were bending over backwards for me - or just bending over really, if we’re being honest.”
You physically startle at the crude comment, attempting to retreat and get away from his touch, but he doesn’t let you, even if it costs him his own sanity, the grip with which he traps your jaw is harsh and he prays to any deity willing to listen that the shock he watches take over your entire system has you mistaking the disgust he knows to be contorting his features at his own actions as something directed towards to you.
“Stop it…” you whisper hoarsely, clawing at his wrist, silently begging for him to let you go, to end this, defiant and stubborn, despite the tears he can see gathering at your lashes, his chest seizing like it’s about to cave in at the mere sight.
“Stop what? Telling the truth? Your own parents, the first people who were supposed to love you, sold you as a science experiment for a few Berry and you genuinely thought you’d find someone else in this world who’d love you unconditionally? You’ve only ever been worth what people could take from you, no more, no less.”
Every insecurity, every fear, every personal hell, entrusted to him during sleepless nights spent talking on deck with freezing fingers curled around steaming mugs, during rare lazy mornings whispered between the sheets with the first rays of the sun as the only witness. All of the pain, once calmed, hushed and made bearable, now weaponized against you with venomous intent to pull you apart at the seams by the very same person.
“It was fun while it lasted, but I’m done taking, so save yourself whatever little dignity you might have left and get. lost.”
Sanji turns then, striding towards the waiting carriage without another look back. He doesn’t need to. The image of your tear streaked face, bottom lip trembling, beautiful eyes glassy and wide in disbelief and horror and hurt, is gonna be burned into his retinas for the rest of his miserable life.
You don’t call out to him again, don’t reach for him, not when he climbs back into the carriage and not when they start moving again, pulling him further away from you.
He buries his hands in his hair, tugging on the blond strands harsh enough to sting, trying to hide his own tears and anguish from his laughing brothers and distract himself from the sheer agony of his heart coming apart in his chest, jagged, broken shards burrowing into his rib cage to make a new permanent home. His teeth come down on his bottom lip hard, struggling to keep the sobs at bay, until the tangy, warm taste of copper creeps onto his tongue.
Good. If he’s lucky, maybe he’ll choke on it.
Sanji wakes in a cold sweat, sheets tangled around his longs legs and shirt sticking to his clammy skin, the memory of the taste of his own blood still clinging to the back of his throat, sending him upright retching and gagging. No matter how many gulps of air he forces into his lungs, it isn’t enough to assuage the burning ache in his chest, so he scrambles out of his bunk, yanking a hoodie and his cigarettes from his locker as he stumbles toward the door on unsteady legs.
The low growl of thunder accompanied by the occasional streak of lightning cutting through the night off somewhere on the far horizon greet him when he steps outside, the gusts of wind reaching the Sunny still enough to snuff the flame from his lighter. Curses fall from his lips as he climbs the steps to the second floor, trembling hands cupped around the cigarette between his teeth until the end finally catches flame, a dimly glowing ember when he takes a drag. His back collides with the railing in exhaustion, head tipping back to exhale in a long heavy breath, watching the smoke curl up and disappear against the dark, starry sky. The second cigarette is already reduced to nothing by the time he realizes he’s wandered close to the sick bay without meaning to, drawn to you like moth to flame, as he always is.
He chances a glance through the bullseye on the door and finds Chopper safely tucked in and contentedly snoring on the bed, no doubt your handiwork; an attempt at a placating gesture, considering you are blatantly ignoring the doctor’s orders for bed rest yet again. As hard as the little reindeer has tried to make the space that is the sick bay as warm and inviting and comforting as possible, you could never stand to be around anything even remotely resembling a laboratory: syringes, vials, medical notes. Everything too much like the cage you’d been locked up and used in for so long, the subtle reminders always enough to leave you nauseous and anxious. Sanji knows this, of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve bolted from the infirmary to be literally anywhere else on the ship.
Most nights, you had ended up in the kitchen - supposedly because it was the closest room. Gentleman that he is, Sanji had never doubted you. Maybe, once upon a time, it had actually been the truth. Not anymore, though. It hasn’t been the truth, your real reason for seeking comfort in the kitchen of all places, for a long time. Now, with the remnants of a wreckage of his own making staring back at him, the cook has to wonder if you’ll ever look at him like that again. Between stopping the wedding and running for your lives, you two haven’t had the time to speak about anything that’s gone so wrong. But he has to set things right, try to at the very least, you have to know how he really feels, that he didn’t mean a single word of the hateful vitriol and vile lies he spat at you. Of course he won’t blame you if it doesn’t change anything; after he took the beautiful thing you’d built together and twisted it into something ugly and horrid? Yeah, you should hate him.
He makes a quick stop in the kitchen to prepare something to keep you warm tonight where he won’t be able or wanted, then proceeds to check the rest of the Sunny, ultimately finding you at the back of the ship, arms crossed on the railing, head buried between and it could be an illusion, nothing more than the moon’s rays reflecting off the waves, but he swears he sees your shoulders shake.
Are you crying?
‘And whose fault is that?’ a voice in the back of his head asks, snide and cruel.
‘Pretentious aren’t we? Why would they be wasting tears over a failure like you?’ another one answers, mocking and apathetic.
Sanji begs them both to just shut up for once in his life.
The scent of lavender and honey carried along with the sea breeze reaches you, your head snapping up instantly to find a steaming mug on the railing next to you, placed with such practiced ease and quiet care, if you weren’t so attuned to his presence, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until after he had gone again. Swiveling your head to search for the source of your comfort, you find him a few feet behind you, so busy shrugging out of his hoodie, he completely misses how your entire face lights up and the tension bleeds from your whole body at his presence. Warmth engulfing you follows, accompanied by the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and spices clinging to the fabric now draped over your shoulders, and the way he so desperately makes sure not to touch you while doing it, trying to preserve whatever fragile semblance of peace the blanket of night has provided over the current mayhem in your lives by not invading your space, has your heart twisting painfully in your chest.
“I know you don’t like being confined in the sick bay, my love—” He cuts himself off abruptly, unsure if he’s still allowed to call you his, then continues with a little shake of his head, voice quiet and strained. “Please do make sure you get some rest nonetheless.” He turns to leave so fast, you barely manage grab a hold of his hand, effectively and immediately stopping him in his tracks, frozen mid step, upper body angled away from you as you tug on his hand gently in a clear demand for him to stay. He does, yet he refuses to look at you and no matter how long you wait, silently begging him to acknowledge you, he doesn’t budge. Realizing you’ll have to be the one to make the first move, you circle around, coming to a halt in front of him, fingers still tightly wrapped around his wrist, terrified he’ll bolt if you let go. Stubborn to a fault, he’s still turned away from you, hair falling into his face to hide his ocean eyes from your searching gaze. Calling his name quietly, begging and oh so soft, only has him flinching away from you as if struck, so careful fingers instead trail up his arm to gently trace the bandage that peeks out from under his shirt sleeve, desperately trying to coerce him into lifting his head through touch instead of words.
When he doesn’t recoil again, your fingers drift higher, along his shoulder, over his collarbone, his neck, until finally your knuckles ghost over his cheek in a barely there caress, avoiding the fading yellow bruises, still an ugly violet in parts, matching the scabbed over cut below his visible eye and the split lip. All recent injuries, yes, but not fresh enough to have come from your struggle escaping Big Mom’s territory. You’re very well aware where they actually came from, who inflicted them on him and your heart aches for him all over again.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, my light.” you croak, the sting of unshed tears already in your eyes as you bring your other hand up as well, your touch growing firmer but no less gentle as you cup his face. “I wish I could’ve done more. I should have.” That’s what finally has his gaze snapping to yours, eyes wide in shock and horror, mouth falling slightly agape as he stares at you as if you’ve lost your mind. You don’t let it deter you though. “I was so worried about you the entire time you were gone, I… You didn’t deserve to get trapped with those monsters again.” He springs into action as if struck by distant lightning, long, slender fingers curling around your wrists in a soft, grounding touch, lips tugging upward in a joyless, rueful smile that doesn’t reach his sapphire eyes, wet with unshed tears. “You see that’s where you’re wrong, I did. I deserved that and so much worse, a just punishment for my actions and yet nothing they could inflict on me could ever pain me as horribly as what I did to you. Mon cœur, not a single word I said was true, I need you to know that.”
A small, sad smile matching his precedes your next words, heart cracking at the mere notion that he genuinely thought you’d ever truly doubt his love and devotion for you. “You really think I didn’t already know? You were trying to protect me by pushing me away, I understood that while it was happening, Sanji.”
The frown on his handsome face only seems to etch itself deeper.
“The end doesn’t justify the means. You trusted me with something as precious as your heart and I couldn’t even keep it safe and cherished, fitting for a failure like myself. Instead I humiliated you and treated you like dirt.” A bark of laughter, incredulous and self deprecating, as he releases his hold on you and steps out of your reach, digging a cigarette out of his pockets and lighting it with trembling fingers, a deep inhale to soothe his nerves before he continues speaking. “So why aren’t you furious? Why do you still care about me? After all of it, how can you even look at me with anything but disgust?! I don’t—” He interrupts himself with another long drag, then moves to throw the butt of his cigarette overboard, leaning his elbows on the railing, back to you and both hands buried in his hair, anxiously tugging at the blond strands like he always does when he’s upset or worried. Meanwhile you remain rooted to the spot, slipping your arms into the sleeves of his hoodie before wrapping them around yourself for comfort, aching to reach out and soothe him, but you know he wouldn’t allow it right now, so you give him his space, let him work through this on his own.
The lull of the waves against the hull of the ship and the song of distant thunder fills the silence between you for a while and only when you see him drop his hands from his hair, his shoulders no longer heaving with heavy breaths, followed by the familiar click of his lighter do you move towards his form with quiet, careful steps, coming to stand beside him, mindful to keep some distance between you. Your back is against the railing, stealing wistful sideways glances at his profile, trying to gauge what’s going through his mind as you watch smoke curl towards the stars.
It takes him another moment to gather the courage to speak his next words aloud. “My intentions don’t matter, there’s no excuse in this world or the next that could justify my actions, I… I hurt you.” The poor cook can barely bring himself to say it, fresh tears brimming in his pretty blue eyes when he finally brings his gaze to yours again. You open your mouth to argue, but he doesn’t let you, fully aware of what you’re going to try and do. “Please, mon étoile, don’t pretend I didn’t. I could see it in your eyes.”
Yet again you want to argue but one look at him is enough to have your shoulders slumping in defeat. “I… I won’t lie to you, my love, after all, you’d catch me in it anyways.” A weak, humorless chuckle follows, then you mirror his stance to stare out at the horizon, watching lightning split the sky as you stall for time, struggling to find the right words. Words that will be truthful but won’t cause him any more pain and guilt - a fruitless endeavor, the longer you think on it, so you start speaking even if you don’t feel ready. “There’s always been a part of me… a little, cruel and mocking voice in the back of my head, constantly telling me I’m not worthy to be part of his crew, that I don’t deserve to have someone like you loving me. Always reminding me that I’m too much, yet not enough and hearing you of all people confirm that just… well, that voice is just gonna be a little louder now, I guess…”
Said voice has also started to sound an awful lot like your lover, but you could never bring yourself to tell him that. Not when he already looks like he’d rather throw himself overboard and drown than to have ever had a hand in your suffering.
“I’d give my life to take it all back.” he confirms, grief making his voice crack halfway through.
Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you offer him a weak, but genuine smile as you push his hair away from his eyes and gently cradle his face in both of your hands.
“So it’s either live with what happened or live without you? I can handle the first, I could not bear the latter, my light, so please don’t make me.”
Tears slip down his cheeks, brushed away by a stroke of your thumb as he leans into your touch, nuzzling into your hand before turning his head to press his lips to your palm, the touch lingering and reverent, then, in a voice so low and wrecked with guilt it almost gets carried away on the sea breeze, “So what can I do…?”
‘Absolutely nothing.’ is what you want to say, that he’s long since been forgiven for any sins he thinks he has to atone for, that you’ve been waiting for him with open arms and an open heart since he left, but he’ll never accept that. Luckily you know him well enough to have anticipated this predicament.
“I’ve been thinking about that, actually…” you start, his full attention on you in an instant, sapphire eyes bright with determination, tightly clasping your hands in his like a lifeline.
“Anything. I’ll do anything.” The fact that he truly means it melts your heart as much as it terrifies you.
“Since you seem so adamant about proving that your words weren’t true, I want you to do just that. I wanna be showered in affection and compliments and fall asleep every night feeling cherished enough to not question my worth. Love me loud enough so that the little voice in my head doesn’t even get the chance to speak up.”
He blinks owlishly, processing your words, trying to make sure he heard you right. He couldn’t have.
Of course you know what you’re asking of him - or rather aren’t asking, after all, he already heeds all of these requests every single day without fail and without even trying. Your cook wears his heart on his sleeve and his love for you is no different; it’s ever present, constantly wrapped around you like a warm blanket. You’ve never felt more protected and cherished, downright worshipped, then when he’s by your side, inner demons recoiling and retreating at the light he brings into your life, yet he’s constantly insisting that he’s the lucky one to have you, readily and proudly declaring himself yours whenever given the slightest opportunity.
His arms your home, his voice your lullaby, his heartbeat your safe haven, his laugh your sun - his love loud and encompassing in the best, most beautiful way imaginable and it comes to him so naturally and effortlessly, you can’t imagine asking for more.
So you don’t, instead disguising his regular adoration and devotion as your idea for his supposed atonement, even though you know he’ll abhor the idea, yet what is he going to do, refuse you?
The longer he continues to gawk at you in utter disbelief, the harder it becomes for you to keep the self satisfied grin off your face, eventually trapping your bottom lip between your teeth in a futile attempt. Realization finally settles over his features and for a moment, you think he’ll argue, insist it’s not enough, but he only ends up heaving a sigh while running a hand through his hair before he leans in close to leave a kiss on your temple.
“Well, you sure set this trap up quite brilliantly.”
“Why thank you, I thought so, too.”
Sanji watches another lightning bolt branch across the horizon over your shoulder, bright against the dark backdrop of the night, the distant clap of thunder close behind. A storm just like this one had accompanied your first meeting and he almost wants to slap himself for how obvious it all was from the very start.
Coup de foudre.
A lightning strike. Or… love at first sight.
The universe itself going out of it’s way to show him just how important you’d be to him the second he first laid eyes on you and even so it had still taken him longer than he’d ever care to admit to finally understand why everything felt brighter and easier and more beautiful when you were by his side.
“There was a thunderstorm the night we met, too, do you remember?”
You pull back from his embrace to look at him quizzically, clearly confused by the sudden change of topic, but you go along with it, nodding in confirmation. “Yes, I remember that mess…”
A miracle really, considering most of your early time with the crew is a bit hazy. That night though… a horrible storm that had threatened to tear the ship apart, a frightened, feral little thing, freshly awoken in an unfamiliar place full of strangers after years of imprisonment and torture, and a poor cook with the misfortune to run into said terrified creature, who still carries the faint scar from that encounter on his jaw today. You’ll end up placing a kiss on that exact scar more often than not, a never ending apology, your memories of that night not something you recall fondly.
Judging by the look he’s fixed you with, though, he clearly feels differently and you understand the workings of his mind well enough to know what’s coming, so you immediately put a damper on what you’re sure he’s gonna say next.
“Sanji, if you now try to tell me something about love at first sight, I’m officially declaring you insane.”
He simply shrugs and grins at you, the bastard. “Would you prefer I phrase it differently, ma chérie? Becoming aware of the certainty that my life would change because now you were in it? The whole world shifting on its axis to bathe everything in a new light?”
“Considering the storm, you think that might’ve just been the ship tilting?” you ask, tone bone dry, earning yourself a slight pinch to your sides and an indignant huff, all mock annoyance and very real fondness.
“Not quite love at first sight maybe, but… intrigue. Curiosity. The need to learn everything. Looking back on it now, that stormy night was when I lost the first piece of my heart to you and the more I got to know you, the more pieces I willingly gave without even realizing until one day I just looked up and my heart wasn’t beating in my own chest anymore, safely cradled in your gentle hands instead and what a wonderful, magnificent, perfect place for it to be.”
Any and all teasing has slipped from your face, replaced by awe and reverence for the man in front of you, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when he gently gathers your hands to press your palms against his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft under your fingertips, the beat of his heart strong and steady.
“As long as it’s beating, it’s yours. Come what may, it’ll belong to you until I take my last breath. No matter the distance between us, no matter the time we have to spend apart, if nothing else please know it to be true that I will love you until my dying day.”
Sight blurring, you blink away the tears until his handsome, kind face swims back into focus, wetness now clinging to your cheeks instantly brushed away by warm, soft thumbs as he cradles your face, your own hands still on his chest, desperately clinging to the song the rhythm of his heart provides.
“Did you mean for that to sound like wedding vows?” Sniffling, you try for a teasing tone and a confident grin - you miserably fail both, if the way his blue eyes cloud over with shame and the hold on your face growing firmer, more reassuring is anything to go by.
“Not necessarily, no. But considering you’re the only person I’m ever truly going to marry, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be allowed to hear something akin to vows now.”
“Is that what you really want, though?” you question, voice quiet and strained with the effort to keep the sobs trapped in your throat, tears only falling harder, trembling hands fisting in his shirt and your head dropping low, unable to still meet his gaze, causing his hands to fall from your cheeks and find purchase softly wrapped around your tense wrists instead. You’re trying to keep it together as best you can, but the joy and relief of having him back is ebbing away, the grief and terror of almost losing him in so may different ways in such a short amount of time finally catching up to you, your own suffering and fears rearing their ugly heads. “Sanji, if you think the only way you can rejoin the crew is to come back to me as well even though it’s not what you want, then I… I don’t— You shouldn’t—”
I don’t want you to.
You shouldn’t have to.
But your battered, selfish, aching heart doesn’t let you say it. Doesn’t want to hear what his answer might be. And with all the damage he managed to do by trying to protect you now staring him straight in the face, Sanji can feel his own heart bleeding alongside yours.
“Oh, mon étoile, no, you have it the wrong way around. I longed to return to you above all else. Not even an hour went by when I wasn’t thinking of you and ways to make amends for what I did.” A stuttering, heaving breath from you, the terrible word ‘But’ barely out of your mouth when he’s already speaking again, voice soft and warm, utterly unwilling to let you continue this horrendous train of thought, closing the small distance between you to press a kiss to your hair. “Why do you think I always call you that, hm? My star?”
The question is enough to cut through the cruel voices in your mind, the beautiful man in front of you already delivering exactly what you asked of him, and has you lifting your head to look at him because it’s true - as fond as he is of pet names for just about anyone, you’ve never heard him use that for anyone but you.
You give him a tiny, uncertain shrug, releasing the death grip on his shirt in favor of wiping a sleeve over your eyes. A steadying hand finds your waist, the other cradling the back of your head while his lips brush against your forehead in a quick, soft caress before his ocean eyes find yours again. “It’s because you’re my North Star, the beautiful constant that will always be there to guide me home, the light that remains when the rest of my world goes dark, the invisible pull I will always blindly, happily follow.”
Heat crawls up your neck and has you burying your face in your hands, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world worth breathing for, coupled with his words too much for the current fragile state of your heart, hammering against your rib cage so viciously you’re certain he has to feel it in his own bones. Dragging oxygen back into your lungs with heavy, shuddering breaths, you try to calm and compose yourself, while long, slender fingers draw soothing patterns into your skin, not pushing or demanding, simply a constant, reassuring presence, as he always is. You scrub your hands over your face a final time before you instead go to hide in the crook of his neck, arms coming around his waist in a hug tight enough to steal the air from his lungs, not that he would ever mind.
“You’re really mine, then…?” It’s barely a whisper, yet oh so hopeful.
Sanji just barely bites back a laugh, he’d never mean to belittle or make light of your insecurities and fears, he’d have the moss head run him through with all three swords before he’d even think of it, but the notion of him being anyone else’s is so utterly ludicrous, he can’t help it.
He returns your hug just as fiercely, lips leaving a whisper of a kiss just below your ear, then, “Je suis avant tout à toi. Never doubt that.”
A little laugh, soft and helpless. “I don’t… I don’t think I can promise that.”
Another kiss, chaste and gentle, to your jaw this time, then your cheek. “That’s okay. I’ll be here to remind you whenever you need.”
Your press yourself impossibly closer, arms tightening further, nails undoubtedly leaving marks on his back, meanwhile the kiss you leave on the pulse point of his neck is as tender and vulnerable as your voice. “Gods, I love you.”
His heart stutters like it’s about to stop, jumping in joy and devotion, desperately trying to find a way out of the prison of his ribs back to it’s real home. “I love you, too. More than I could ever hope to put into words. And I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”
That has you pulling back slowly, carefully, not letting him go, never again, but far enough so that you can see his face, look into his beautiful ocean eyes when you speak. “Forever?” you suggest, peeking up at him through your lashes, lovely lips tugged upward in that crooked smile he adores so much. A low chuckle, his warm breath fanning over your face as he leans forward to seal his next words into your heart, body and soul with his lips finally finding yours again after so long.
Frozen Waters, Burning Hearts ( Sokka x fire bender! Reader )
— chapter 3
Summery : you're a powerful fire bender, a woman who was supposed to lead armies into war but you have a wish. A wish of being free. For the past few days, you've been at sokka's side, completely unaware of your father's plan to search for you. Sokka starts to worry , the thought of losing you begins to creep up on him, causing you both to make a very necessary decision.
Mentions: distress, mentions of past abuse, jealousy, physical touch/wandering hands
— 2 days prior
For the past few days, the sky had been full of thick, dark clouds, roaring thunder in the distance that was enough to make one jump . The streets were full of thick fog, thick enough to prevent one from seeing within 5 feet of where they'd stand. The ground was moist, and the wind was harsh, making it almost impossible for fire benders and non benders to live their normal lives without an intense gust of wind blowing out any flame or heavy droplets of water putting them out. The people of the fire nation almost began to feel panic as these intense storms continued to fall, they worried, but they worried even more for the woman down the street that had been weeping from early in the morning, in search for her daughter. She had turned her home upside down, walking up and down the street, asking every person who dared cross her path. She called out for her, but there was no response. One could possibly ignore the loud weeping and begging, perhaps continue walking or pretend you hadn't seen a thing, but that was impossible, because that weeping woman was the wife of one of the most powerful men in the fire nation.
A man stood by her side, his face was stern, gaze sharp enough to cut glass. His name was Zenji Hachiman, and he was the general of the fire army, and his daughter was the future general of the Fire Army .
His wife, Hanako Hachiman, was the lead nurse of the fire army. She was more sympathetic , gentle, and loving. One may even say she was the epitome of a perfect mother and wife. A perfect partner. Of course, not everything was as it seemed. Her husband was the one in charge of the house. Whatever he'd say was what would go . Which meant she was never able to defend her daughter from her husband's harsh punishments. She wanted to blame herself for her missing daughter, but she felt resentment towards her husband and knew all this was his fault . He was too harsh with her, and from a young age, she had threatened to leave them and forget about them . Hanako worried, but she never thought her daughter would ever go through with her plan. Han thought she had changed her mind when she stopped mentioning it, but now as she cried on the street, she realized that the only reason why her daughter hadn't mentioned running away in years was because she was planning it out the whole time. She blamed her husband in silence, refusing to look him in the face as he spoke.
" Han , I think it's best we go home, and talk in private. " the man said in a voice low enough to prevent others from hearing. His wife agreed , knowing that there was no use in crying out for her when she wouldn't answer. She willingly took her husband's hand, and let him lead her back home as she cried softly, as if she was mourning her own daughter. Her only child.
Back home, Hanako felt she had cried every tear in her body. She stared at small specks of dust on her floor , occasionally following her husband's feet as he paced back and forth in front of her. The house felt oddly quiet, cold, empty without her daughter.
The room was silent, nothing but the sound of footsteps until he came to a stop in front of his wife. She looked up at him, her eyes teary as he spoke, " we will find our daughter," the man assures.
" how will we ever do that, dear ?" She croaks.
He didn't speak for a moment, but took a long inhale , then exhaled. " I will speak with Fire Lord Zuko, and with my authority, I will launch a search for our daughter. "
" oh Zenji, do you really think he'd waste his resources on her ? She's just a girl." Hanako sobbed , but her husband quickly reassured her. " she's not just a girl, she's my daughter, a woman trained to take my place ! Zuko is a smart Emperor, he will know having her will benefit him."
——
For once, you felt warmth throughout the whole night without waking up with your body shivering and your face stinging from the cold. You slept well, too well. Your body remained pressed against sokka, picking up and absorbing all the warmth that came off of him. You didn't even notice the closeness in your sleep, not until you began to stir at the sound of his soft, sleepy voice .
"Hey, wake up, sleepy head. " he whispered, enough for you to hear, but not enough for you to wake up. Your eyes stayed closed, and he didn't dare push you away. He enjoyed the closeness as much as you did.
" Today's a very special day. You wouldn't want to miss it. " he spoke again, a little louder now, but you still didn't respond, hoping that if you ignored him long enough, he'd shut up, and you both could sleep a little longer.
" I guess that means I'll have to leave without you."
" No.." You managed to get out, your voice was weak, your eyes threatened to close as you forced them open, and you still hadn't realized just how close you were to him. Sokka did. He's wide awake and enjoying every second of it.
" Come on, I've got an exciting day planned for us."
You groaned, but you knew staying in bed wouldn't work, not with sokka pestering you to get out of bed. Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, your hair was a mess , and your body would rock softly to the sides as you struggled to keep yourself up.
Sokka watched in amusement, the biggest smile on his face as he took her in. She was a mess, but in his eyes, she was just so beautiful waking up. Her hair everywhere, sleep lines on her face from pressing herself against the pillow or sokka in an attempt to keep her face warm. Her clothes were a little messy too, the first few buttons of her shirt had come undone, but not enough to expose her, one of her sleeves had rolled up to her elbow, the collar of her shirt was folded inward and the cherry on top were her missing socks that she had thrown off to the side sometime around midnight. She didn't remember doing this, but sokka did, and he laughed about it for five minutes straight while she continued to sleep in his arms.
" What time is it ?" You asked, your voice soft, refusing to look at him in protest for being woken up.
" Seven in the morning!" His voice was so full of excitement, and it was a surprise how he seemed so ready for the day while you were still exhausted.
" Why so early?" You'd whine.
"Early bird gets the worm!" Sokka seemed to be so full of energy first thing in the morning, and that used to be you, but since your trip, and falling sick, you've felt far too tired and lacked energy throughout the day. You knew you'd recover soon, but for now, waking up early was a pain and felt extremely forced. The good news was that you had enough energy to get up and continue with your day. Also, sokka was a huge motivator. It was a lot easier to go on with your day when the person by your side seemed so excited about it. It gave you a reason to be just as excited.
" You get yourself all pretty, and I'll worry about the rest ." Sokka pushed himself onto his feet, fixing his own clothes that had been messed up and wrinkled from their very good sleep together.
" The rest ? What are you planning on doing so early in the morning? " you asked, very slowly moving over to your clothes you had neatly folded the night prior. Then, picked up the blue fabrics and brought them over to your bed, dragging your feet in the process.
" Don't ask questions ." He'd chirp, " just get ready ." And with that, he left and shut the door behind himself, hearing an exciting laugh leave his lips on the other side. You groan and turn to your bed where you had laid your clothes. You could feel the coldness come over you again and knew this needed to be quick before you began to shiver.
Stripping from your pajamas was quick, tugging at the fabrics and tossing them on your bed, desperately attempting to hold on to the little warmth you felt from your sleep. You were beginning to shiver already, whining quietly to yourself as you pulled on the clothes sokka had given you . This was probably the quickest you've ever gotten yourself changed , and you surprised yourself with how quick you were. Back in the fire nation, you'd take your time, making sure to enjoy the process of getting changed into expensive fabrics that sat on you so nicely, enjoying the warm room and shoes that sat a little uncomfortable on your feet but at least there you would be able to feel your toes. Unfortunately, that wouldn't be possible here, but you were thankful for sokka's attempt to provide you with as many articles of clothing as possible to keep you warm.
Quietly, you stepped out of the room and shut the door behind yourself. You were slow, silent, trying not to make any sound as you moved down the hall, then slipped into the bathroom to fix your hair and do other very important stuff. You were so used to waking up and taking your time combing out your hair in front of a very large mirror your mother insisted you needed. You would also take your time in applying a light layer of blush to your cheeks and adding lipstick. You wouldn't need the blush while you stayed in wolf cove, your cheeks remained pink from the cold, and so did your lips, You also lost your makeup bag on the way there, so it's not like you had anything you could use to make yourself more presentable.
Despite your attempts to be silent, sokka could hear your small footsteps . He could also hear your whining and complaining while you got dressed in the other room, so it was safe to say that the walls were fairly thin. He also heard you go into another room, which he could only assume was the bathroom.
" Where are you going so fast?" A voice called from down the hall, as soon as the bathroom door came open. You paused, looking over your shoulder only to be met with sokka's gaze. He had changed, looking more put together than ever. You assumed he had something special planned if he was going out of his way to put himself in clothes that weren't stained in oil or spilled paint. Which meant you also took a moment to check him out, and also take note of how he brushed his hair extra well. You were so used to seeing those few loose strands of hair that would hang over the front of his forehead and watch as he tucked them and brushed them out of his face multiple times throughout the day, but it was safe to say he looked just as good all cleaned up.
" Oh, I'm not going anywhere. " And you weren't. You were simply used to being as quiet as humanity possible . Something they taught you in training.
" You're dressed nice. Is there a reason?" You came closer but kept appropriate space between you two.
" there sure is ! I was doing some thinking.." sokka started, and you couldn't say you were nervous, sokka seemed like a pretty smart guy , so he must know what he's doing, right ? "And decided that I should show you around wolf cove and get you used to your new home ."
" you.. what ?" Your face dropped, concern washing over you once more and you began to regret it, began to regret thinking that sokka knew what he was doing, because it seemed he didn't. Maybe he wasn't as smart as you thought.
" should I repeat myself?" Sokka asked, seeing absolutely no wrong with his idea.
" No.. I just, is that really a good idea ?" You were worried. You didn't know how you felt about going out in public so soon, not when you were sure your father would initiate some sort of search any time now, but there was still a slither of hope that lingered in your thoughts. Only those of the fire nation knew you. You were unknown to the outside world. You were always just 'the general's daughter' to other kingdoms and tribes, but they never got a chance to lay their eyes on you. Only the fire nation recognized your face , but the fear still lingered. What if someone of the water tribe let's the fire gaurds know that there is a new face here , one that clearly didn't belong in the water tribe. You swallowed hard, and your stomach would twist , making you ache from the nervousness. You knew you couldn't hide forever, but you couldn't stop the feeling.
Sokka took a moment. He could sense your worry and was about to comfort you with words, but you speak before he can," You know what, yeah, that sounds fun. I'm really excited to see where you grew up, sokka." But your concern , for once, was clear, very clear. You always acted so tough, so stern , but without even noticing it, you were letting your guard down with sokka. Little by little, he somehow managed to chip away at the woman your father so desperately tried to mold you into. You refused it for years, and while you forced his strict ways on yourself, you couldn't completely hold on to it. You never could. That's why your father would get mad at you. You didn't want to be heartless like him.
"I won't let anyone take you if that's what you're worried about" He reassured, "I know this is a big step, and the people might look at you funny, but I won't let a single thing happen to you, and if they come for you, they'll have to get through me! I promise." His voice was loud, but soft as he spoke, something that you weren't used to. He spoke with ease, making you feel more comfortable in his presence and filling your mind with thoughts of him protecting you from fire gaurds. This caused you to laugh, a laugh so loud you were sure neighbors would hear you, " Thank you , sokka. I'm happy to know you're ready to be my hero ."
His eyesbrows lifted at the laugh, a smile so big on his face that he could feel his cheeks ache. "Any time, m'lady! You know, I didn't fight alongside the avatar for years just to not be a hero!"
" I didn't expect you to be so ready for action, sokka, and, the avatar ?" You'd question, of course you knew who the avatar was , but you never heard much of the others unless it was Zuko telling you a brief story of his time with the avatar and his friends.
"Oh, I'm always ready for action ! And the Avatar, I saved him from an iceberg and fought off enemies with my boomerage and trusty sword, I even took down an entire Fire Air ship!" He exclaimed.
Your expression dropped to surprise, almost suspicion. Sokka seemed to be too much of an ordinary guy to fight alongside the Avatar, and the mention of the fire air ships seemed to worry you a little. Surely he wouldn't cause that big of a scene if they come looking for you.
Sokka squinted his eyes at you, as if he was trying to see past you, "You don't believe me, do you?"
" no, its not that !" You reassured , "I just.. I don't hear much about you when the Avatar is mentioned, that's all."
" What ! But I was popular !" He cried .
You knew it'd shatter his little heart to hear such a thing, but you couldn't lie to him. You told yourself you'd be completely honest with him. He was doing you a huge favor, and you couldn't offer much, so being honest was the least you could do. You expected some hurt reaction, but what you didn't expect was sokka falling to his knees, hiding his face in his gloves with the most dramatic gasp he could muster up.
" Oh, why am i always left out ! I'm just as strong as them...I took down an air ship !"
You rolled your eyes at his dramatic act, but you still giggled. He's a strange one, that's for sure. "You're so dramatic, sokka." You reach out your hand to stroke the side of his face and down to his chin as a way to comfort him during his dramatic act, and while he was fooling around, you could tell he was a little hurt at the thought of being left out. And he was, sokka always felt bad whenever he was left out. Being a non bender wasn't the greatest, and while he lacked bending skills, he possessed other amazing qualities that made him just as useful as the others.
Sokka leaned into your touch, and this was enough for him to cut his silly little act and for once, falter at your touch. His brain short circuits and suddenly, he was at a loss of words, like he wanted to speak, but was caught off gaurd by the gentle gesture.
" well, if it makes you feel any better , you're now a hero in my book, and I won't leave you out. " you promised, hoping that was enough to make him feel better.
That reassurance made his heart flutter, and you could both see and feel how his face began to heat up. Feeling the heat against your cold hand made you press further against him, but your touch still being gentle .
" I should get you some gloves. " He'd whisper, "please." You'd respond.
Sokka was quick on his feet ,rushing down the hall to fetch you some gloves, leaving you on your own in the family room of his cozy home. You waited for him, fidgeting with the hand that once caressed his face . You didn't know what it was, but you felt something strange towards sokka. A man , so gentle with you, so caring. He made your heart flutter, and it felt almost overwhelming for you. It was a new feeling. You didn't know how to handle it, or if you even possessed the ability to.
You were thankful sokka didn't take long because you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts for too long. He's holding a pair of old but thick gloves in his hand. " These were mine from years ago, but.. they're good enough." His gloves, from when he was a kid. They were small but somehow fit you perfectly. How sweet. " they fit perfectly !" He said in surprise, and the surprise over a pair of old gloves fitting you was amusing. " they do, thank you."
" Come on, we'll have breakfast in town, then I'll show you around. "
Sokka led the way, his new friend trailing behind him as he talked. She did eventually catch up and was able to keep up with his fast steps. They walked close, leaving no space between them, rubbing shoulders, and occasionally, she'd trip and bump into sokka, who was always there to catch her. Sokka had a lot to say, but it was also her fault for asking. She wanted to hear more of his adventures with the Avatar and wanted to hear his part of the story and the things he did. He might have over exaggerated things a little, but the look of amusement on her face was too pretty for him to stop now. He did all sorts or gestures and crazy sounds and would occasionally jump and move around to demonstrate moves she's never seen before. She was definitely entertained with him, that was for sure, but as they entered town, he began to settle down , just a little.
" And.. that's just the first half!"
" There's more ?" You'd ask in awe.
" There sure is ! But I'll tell you later !" Sokka was so proud of his storytelling, and you were making the grave mistake of showing large amounts of interest. Oh, he'll never shut up, but also, you didn't mind him running his mouth. You loved how he was so talkative and unable to let silence take over.
Your gaze then shifted to take In everything around you. It was all so bright, the white snow and sheer ice. Long icicles hanging from buildings and tall mountains covered in thick snow. The sky was white, cloudy, but still so bright. The people around you all wore coats, blue and white fabrics , furs, and big hats that covered almost all their faces. You loved the brightness of the town, of the people. They smiled, greeted each other, and some even greeted you. People in the fire nation were usually a little too serious, and no random person would dare give you a good morning when you were standing in the middle of the street like you and sokka currently were .
" So what do you think?" He'd ask after giving you a moment to take everything in.
Your attention snapped back to sokka, looking towards him, but he was already at eye level with you, waiting for a response. The closeness made your face heat up, but you smiled. " It's beautiful. " You'd respond, and sokka's smile grew.
"Perfect, let's go get you something warm to eat first. " and he only says 'first' because he wasn't sure what he had planned for the day, but he wanted her to think he had everything planned out to perfection. All he knew was that he wanted to take her somewhere, show her his home and would it be too much to say he was probably showing her off ? She was worth showing off, a beauty. people would double take, greet her or mumble things under their breathes as they walked past, and he simply thought to himself that everyone agreed she was the most beautiful girl to ever step foot in wolf cove. And she was.
Unlike sokka, the looks and whispered bothered you. You felt uncomfortable, assuming people were talking about how you weren't from the water tribe. You tried to push away any unwanted thoughts , but it was far too difficult. You were only able to pull away from those thoughts when you'd focus on the man by your side, so, hoping he wouldn't mind, you reached out and wrapped your arm around his arm, again, closing the little space between you both.
Sokka looked over for a brief second, it was no longer a surprise to him, but something he was slowly getting used to. He enjoyed the closeness, and when he felt her lean in closer and rest her head against his arm, he couldn't help the way he melted into her touch. People would stare, they'd look, but it wasn't because of a new face, but more so admiring the two as they embraced each other. Sokka walked slow, not wanting to rush his lady who was walking a little slower, not by choice. She was still sick and slowly recovering from her long trip. He couldn't begin to imagine the pain she had gone through, the struggle, the hunger. Getting to Wolf Cove from the Fire Nation was no easy task, but she made it on her own in one piece, and that was pretty damn cool in his eyes.
He led you towards a cafe that sat on the main street of Wolf Cove. It was so tiny that it was almost swallowed up by everything else around it. It was simple too, a soft blue color, the windows and door had a wooden trim and a small windchime that hung just above the door and rang whenever a small gust of wind hit it. "My sister and I come here often. It's our favorite tea spot." Sokka spoke again, and you turned your head to him, not expecting him to have moved so close to where the tip of his nose almost brushed over yours. He seemed to be doing this more often now, you wanted to ask why, but perhaps you were over thinking it, and he was just trying to make sure you heard him through the thick fabric and fur that sat on your head, covering your ears.
"It looks lovely." You'd respond, and let sokka lead you in . You were thankful for the Cafe being a lot warmer , very warm, dare one say.. warm enough to take the coats off. You struggled a little with such a big coat, but sokka was quick to help and draped it over the back of your chair, which he also pulled out for you. Oh what a gentleman. " you don't have to be all this, I'm not royalty." You'd mumble, a laugh following your words.
" I mean.. technically you are." Sokka whispered back, and you took a moment to pause. He was right. You were royalty, but you continued to see yourself as any other person. you didn't like being treated differently because of your status , and being here, you could put that behind you. " treat me like I'm one of you , not royalty. " You'd whisper to sokka, and he nodded his head. "As you wish m'lady."
"Quit it."
Sokka sat right across from you, your eyes scanned the menu while his seemed to scan you. You could feel his eyes on you, and your lips threatened to curve up into a smile, but you forced yourself to keep that focused look and act completely oblivious to his staring. Once you felt you had him waiting long enough and mustered up the courage to look at him, you asked, " What do you recommend?"
Sokka was unaware of his staring, he knew he was looking, but not for as long as he did. He was caught up in his thoughts, admiring the woman across from him. Perhaps it was because she was a new face, or it could've been that today felt different. The air filled with a sudden, silent intimacy, and she no longer felt like a stranger to him, but something more. It could've been from last night, He could remember laying awake the night prior , feeling her warm breath against him, and how her body lightly shivered against him until she was warm enough to stop. How she'd move closer each time, searching for the warmth he provided for her throughout the night. He could've gone on forever, losing himself in thoughts of her, but hearing your voice again, he snapped out of his daze.
" Everything okay, sokka?"
" Huh.. yeah ! Yeah, I'm fine." He laughed
" What tea do you recommend ?" You'd ask again. You knew what you wanted, you weren't picky when it came to your tea and you were also interested in what he liked.
"Oh, jasmine tea !"
" Then I'll get jasmine tea."
" Do you want something to eat ?"
"I'm not really hungry."
" we could share a sandwich?"
Share a sandwich? Your face lit up in amusement, and suddenly, a lovely laugh erupted from your throat, cutting through the thick, tense air between both of you. "That's so cute, goodness, share a sandwich?" You repeated to him, wondering if you had even heard him right the first time.
" I'm trying to be nice!" Sokka whined, his voice seemed to become higher, and you could only giggle more, feeling your heart flutter as he joined your fit of uncontrollable giggles.
Soon enough, your laughter died down, and together, you both gasped for air ," Fine , we can share a sandwich. I just didn't think you'd be so...romantic on the first date." You'd tease, leaning forwards over the table as if you were making an attempt to close the space between you both .
" date ? Oh I..."
" I'm just joking !" You quickly correct.
" ... wouldn't mind this being our first date."
You wanted to protest, but you didn't. Not when it was sokka sitting across from you, "sokka , this doesn't have to be a date.." But you were cut off by another voice, one that greeted you with respect, welcoming you to the cafe. A server .
You didn't speak, not that you didn't want to, but because you worried you might sound too fire nation-y. It was a stupid thought, but you couldn't let your gaurd down. You knew you'd have to get over yourself eventually, but you were thankful sokka spoke for you. Oh he really was making all this a lot easier for you.
" we'll have a jasmine tea! Oh, and a sandwich for the lady and I, please ."
The lady and I ? You swallowed hard, forcing those giggles that threatened to come out back down your throat. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at sokka anymore, because you knew the second your gaze met his, you'd let a loud laugh rip from your throat and you couldn't have that right now. What he said wasn't funny, it was the simple thought of him considering this a date now, and the way he worded things that would make you laugh.
Sokka on the other hand, loved the sound of her laugh. There was undeniable chemistry between the two, how sokka's eyes would linger, and how the woman across from him would initiate their flirtatious banter. The air around them was thick, think enough to cut. Maybe one could say, Electric, enough for those around them to feel .Sokka wanted to get those laughs out of her, watch how her face would scrunch up in absolute joy .
The server who stood at the end of their shared table, could feel the tension they both shared. It was almost suffocating. The lady across from sokka had caught his attention the moment she stepped foot into the Cafe, she was a new face, and far too pretty to be sitting across some man who thought he was so grand only because he fought next to the Avatar. "I'm Anik, welcome to wolf cove." He spoke, interrupting their silent conversation .
You didn't expect the man to introduce himself. Last time you had gone to a cafe, the server simply took your order and then brought it to you, avoiding any sort of conversation. One may also say, avoiding you completely. Servers wouldn't dare look you in the face. It could've been because of your status , but you much preferred it that way.
"Oh , it's a pleasure meeting you.. my name is.." You froze, realizing you couldn't use your real name. It'd give you away.
"Kaya, her name is Kaya." Sokka states in a bitter tone.
Anik looked over at sokka, a nasty grin on his face, " Let the lady speak for herself. I'm just curious , I've never seen her around here."
"She's from the northern water tribe." Sokka snaps.
" Could you please just get us our food, I'm hungry." You interrupted, hoping that would be enough for the server to leave you both alone. And it was. You were taken aback from how unprofessional the man was, but at least he got the message and left the first time.
Sokka's arms were crossed over his chest, his back pressed against his chair, and his eyes followed Anik , nothing friendly in his gaze. His sudden outburst was uncalled for, but something about this guy wanting his lady's attention really bothered him. He just needed to protect her, and perhaps he was a little jealous but would sit in denial instead of accepting it.
Your gaze was on sokka again, but you didn't speak. You weren't sure what to say , but when his gaze fell on you again, he smiled. His face softened, and his shoulders relaxed as his eyes met yours. You did the same, relaxing in your seat as you locked your gaze with sokka once again.
" Is everything okay ?" You'd ask. He nods his head," I'm fine."
You both let the soft silence take over once more, but you didn't want this. You wanted to hear him talk, seeing how his eyes would light up, and you knew exactly how to do that. How to get both him and yourself at the edge of the seats.
"Hey, so, how about you finish telling me about your adventures with the Avatar?"
Seeing the way his face lit up made your heart flutter, the excitement in his voice gave you butterflies . His life was so full of adventures, you could tell he treasured his friends and sister more than anything, and deep down , you hoped you'd be part of his adventures in the future. It was a lot to ask for of a man you just met, but the way your heart would flutter for him, the warmth inside you that he provided you with. You've never experienced anything like this, the way he made you laugh so easily, how you couldn't look him in the face without smiling. How you'd watch him in awe as he spoke, all those hand gestures , the silly sound effects, and how he'd use things around him to describe something or draw out a picture for you to understand better. The food was brought to you both, and even while you both ate , he continued to keep you entertained. Breakfast was meant to be quick, but you both had spent almost two hours at the cafe, doing more talking than eating.
Anik, the server had eventually dismissed you both from the cafe, probably out of spite , maybe a little jealousy, but neither of you let it ruin the mood.
For the rest of the day, sokka had kept her busy, walking her through the early morning market where they sold a variety of fish and sea creatures she had never seen before. She refused to get too close to them, and sokka would occasionally pick up a fish or two and startle her with them. She wasn't too happy and refused to stand by sokka's side, knowing he would continue to mess with her. Sokka would reassure her each time that he'd stop, but he didn't. He didn't stop, not until they were out of the market. He walked her around wolf cove, showing her where everything was, both necessary places and not so necessary like a store that sold fishing supply. She was sure she wouldn't go fishing, but sokka insisted she'd try at least once.
It wasn't until seven in the afternoon, sometime around dinner, when the snow began tapping against the windows of the tiny restaurant , followed by the harsh whistling sound of wind. Sokka knew what was coming, a storm, a very bad one too . He needed to get her home before the snow hit. He knew it wouldn't be good for her. They hadn't finished their dinner but agreed together that it would be better if they left that very moment, so she quickly began to slip back on the multiple layers of furs and thick fabrics that she hoped wouldn't be easily penetrated by the cold.
You clung to his arm as the wind began to pick up, shivering lightly against him as he held you close to his body , which wasn't shivering. "How do you live in this place." You groaned , already feeling a string of complains ready to erupt from your throat. "You get used to it." He'd laugh, pulling you closer as he felt your shivering body. Maybe Wolf Cove wasn't a good idea. The earth kingdom was surely warmer.
"But don't worry, we're almost home, okay? Are you ready to keep going ?"
You weren't. Your feet ached, they were cold, and your toes felt numb. Your face also ached from the biting cold, but sokka was doing his best to get you home as quickly as possible. He'd pull you close, letting you bury yourself against him, letting him provide you with a little more warmth . You felt miserable, unable to keep up but he didn't leave your side, instead, he took your arm in his, leading you through the snow quicker, and before you knew it, you were at the door of his home .
He had his keys ready in his hand. He didn't want to spend any more time in the cold, not when she was visibly trembling in his hold.
To your surprise, sokka was quick to leave your side once you stepped foot inside. Not because of anything bad, oh he had gone to fetch a couple of those fur blankets. Your face lit up, and you wasted no time getting comfortable in what was now your usual spot, and let sokka drap those heavy blankets over your body.
" You're an angel ,sokka. " You'd whisper , huddling yourself in the blankets which you could say was one of your favorite things in wolf cove.
Silence. He didn't speak . Neither did you.
" I think we need to talk. " His tone was serious, it was sudden, and you became easily worried.
Sokka had thought about it all day, ever since the interaction with Anik. You were both playing a dangerous game, running a great risk that he wasn't willing to take. He needed to initiate his plan before things got out of hand and get her out of here before fire gaurds enter wolf cove. They had wasted too much time, he knew the fire nation was quick, they didn't like to waste their time and he could only imagine things would be quicker when they're looking for the general's daughter. Oh,He couldn't lose her, not now, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.
" sokka.." you started.
" I need you to come to Republic City with me before fire gaurds get here. I'll send a letter off to my sister, tell her I'll be there soon. We'll wait for a response, she'll surely mention any odd activity in the area, including fire nation gaurds or air ships. "
" how are you sure she'll tell you?" You'd ask, now you straightened up in your spot, this conversation was serious, sokka, was being very serious.
" she always does." He'd say, "she responds quick, in the meantime, we'll get ready for our trip, I have a couple things that'll make it easier for us to get there." Sokka sat by your side, something that brought great comfort to you, especially now when the idea of going on another voyage sat heavy on your shoulders.
You didn't hesitate. "Alright, I'll go to Republic city with you." Because you knew you had to. You were enjoying your time with sokka, and you'd do whatever to stay by his side, but this wasn't just about him, it was also for your safety.
Sokka was glad to hear her accept , and for the rest of the night, he spent his time talking to her, telling her about Republic city, how their journey there will be , and many other things. Anything that would sooth her worry just a little. Thankfully, it worked, and sokka managed to talk her to sleep. He tucked her in, then slipped away to write his letter to katara .
───❅✵ ·❆· ✵❅───
Sorry I took so long to put this out ! I'm hoping the next chapter is quicker, its also going to be more exciting
summary: Zodyl kidnaps Zanka and holds him for ransom, demanding payment from the Hell Guard. As his torture grows more and more severe, Jabber makes a decision:
Fuck the Raiders. Fuck Zodyl.
Zanka… I’m gettin’ you out of here.
Part 1:
It had started off as a mild and pleasant afternoon, like any other. Zanka had come into town after training to clear his head, stopping by the candy market to pick up treats for his team. He had been leaned against the alleyway, savoring a small piece of chocolate, when a cold chill suddenly ran down his spine.
Something’s wrong.
He scans across the crowd of people quickly, his heart full of adrenaline as he clutches his staff. Just as he’s about to turn around, a sharp and painful prick hits the back of his neck.
No, no, no-
His entire body freezes up with a paralyzing spasm. Soft giggling laughter rings out in his ears as he falls backwards into Jabber’s open arms.
“Caught ya,” Jabber giggles, his face flushed with glee as he drags him slowly back into the alley. “Sorry, buddy… boss man sent me to pick you up. You like the poison?”
Zanka tries to shout, but his throat only gargles in response. He tries to reach for his choker, but his arm barely twitches. The lights all around him turn into sickening rainbows. He feels his eyes lulling sideways as spit drips slowly down his cheek.
“Pretty trippy, right? Can’t move, right? I made this one just for you...”
Anger explodes in his chest, pounding viciously against the paralysis. Why is it always him!? Every ounce of strength in his blood is completely useless against the poison. But his fury quickly gives way to apathy as he feels his eyelids droop shut. His vision wavers in blackness as he feels himself being dragged slowly backwards into the Raider’s portal.
-
Zanka somehow knows, in the dark and hazy minutes before his eyelids flutter open, that whatever situation he’s in is worse than anything he’s dealt with before. His body seems to realize it before his mind.
Waking up only confirms it. As feeling floods back into his limbs, he realizes with a jolt of dread that his arms are handcuffed above his head. Handcuffed. His legs are shoulder width apart, each ankle cuffed to some kind of chain link fence behind him. He’s underground- deep underground. The air is suffocating, thick with the cloying scent of trash that clings to the back of his throat. He feels like he’s going to throw up.
Slave traders, traffickers, religious freaks- who the hell took him? Where is he? He tries and fails to break free as the sound of footsteps slowly come in from around the corner.
Sort of loving the Idea of Janka sneaky links… specifically when Zanka takes Mankira as insurance that Jabber won’t fucking kill him during one of their frequent hookups.
At first, it’s just Jabber putting her on the bedside table of whatever seedy motel they choose to stay at this time around, Zanka eyeing him warily from the other side of the room as he slides Mankira’s rings off, one by one. Only after Jabber’s fingers are bare(Mankira neatly arranged on the dresser, because she deserves no less) does he approach.
Slow, careful steps, a hand at the nape of Jabber’s neck like he’s trying to tread lightly; Cautious, despite everything about the situation at hand being the exact opposite. Just a few seconds of normalcy before this encounter—like any other that they have—descends into something abnormally violent, animalistic in all the ways that it shouldn’t be.
By the fifth time, they both know the drill. Zanka leaves Lovely back at the Cleaner’s HQ, brushing off his colleagues with lame excuses about running errands like he always does. Jabber takes off his rings, depositing them somewhere out of reach before they kiss, or fight, or fuck—or some combination of those three that leave fresh blooming bruises all over both their bodies. This time though, Jabber brings something extra:
A metal chain. Nothing too fancy—jewelry is hard to come by on the ground anyways. What makes it special is what Jabber does with it; Sliding all of Mankira’s rings onto it until they rest in a neat row on the chain, the metal clacking and jingling as he walks over to Zanka and clasps it around his neck.
Zanka swallows. The rings sit heavy in the hollow of his throat, and he swears he can feel the latent anima humming against his skin as he stares into Jabber’s wide eyes.
“Keep her safe for me, aight?” Jabber whispers to him, and then pulls Zanka into a kiss that spurs them both into action, a raw push-and-pull that ends with Jabber facedown on the dingy motel mattress, eyes rolling damn near into the back of his head while Zanka tries to ignore how the jewlery around his neck jingles with every rough snap of his hips.
It doesn’t work. The sound stays in Zanka’s head for weeks.
After that, Zanka wearing confiscating Mankira during their meetings becomes less about safety and more about ritual. The distance between them grows less and less every time they rendezvous, and eventually, they sit thigh to thigh while Jabber slips his rings onto the necklace that Zanka has become far too accustomed to wearing.
There’s something a bit profane, Zanka thinks, about displaying Jabber’s vital instrument back to him in such a manner. Wearing pieces of his enemy’s soul around his neck. It’s sacrilegious, but Zanka thinks they’re also way past pretending to care. Not that Jabber ever did, but…semantics.
Zanka looks on as Jabber fiddles with the ring on his pinky, the chain with the rest of Mankira jingling in his other hand. “D’you like it?”
“Like what?” Jabber replies, looking up from his ministrations to glance at Zanka curiously. He’s mellowed out over the course of their relationship(what exactly that relationship is, neither of them know, but), and it turns out that he’s less crazy than Zanka thought. Not that he’s entirely right in the head, but these isolated moments of sanity are becoming more and more frequent.
“Seein’ Mankira on me.” A question that’s been brewing for far too long. Zanka’s not an idiot; he knows that Jabber knows this isn’t about being cautious anymore. So why hasn’t he done anything about it?
Jabber hums. His hair is pulled back out of his face today, a half-up, half-down situation that gives Zanka a clear view of his face while he ruminates. He rolls his pinky ring around in his palm, magenta eyes darting from the chain to his bare fingers. Then, he lets go of one end of the necklace, letting all of Mankira tumble back into his hands.
Zanka should be alarmed, but he’s not, instead taking in the sound of the metal clicking, staring at the silver bands that he knows more intimately than he should. He doesn’t have it in him to be scared, not when he can already feel their phantom coolness resting on the column of his throat.
“Hey,” He barks in warning anyway, but Jabber just smirks at him, gathering all his rings in one hand.
The chain gets tossed somewhere on the inn (Booked by Zanka in the most neutral city he could find)’s bed, and Jabber swings a leg over until he’s straddling Zanka, knees brushing lightly against his hips.
“You always think I’m finna’ start something.” Jabber grins thinly, scooting closer when Zanka’s hands instinctively find the backs of his thighs. “Relax, Zan-zan.”
“Shut up.”
“Yeah, talk mean to me.”
Zanka rolls his eyes, stil conscious of the fact that Jabber never answered his question. He starts to voice that, but the words get caught in his throat when Jabber tugs on his wrist, bringing his hand up between them to slide a ring on to Zanka’s thumb.
It doesn’t stop there. Jabber puts Mankira onto Zanka’s hands, one by one—pointer, middle, ring, pinky, and then again on the other hand—until the full set rests heavy on his fingers, the silver cold against Zanka’s skin. They slide down further than they do on Jabber’s own hands, stopping right before his bottom knuckle, and oh, this changes things.
“She looks nice, don’t she?” Jabber murmurs, rubbing his thumbs along his rings, along Zanka’s fingers, gentler than Zanka has ever seen him. “On you.”
Zanka can’t respond with much more than a shaky exhale, trying to figure out whether he’s imagining the faint tingle in his hands or not. Jabber takes one of them and presses his thumbs into Zanka’s palm, forcing his fingers to splay before holding it up like a trophy.
“So pretty, my baby.”
Zanka doesn’t know whether Jabber is referring to him or Mankira. This is too much. “I…”
Jabber lets go, and Zanka finds his own hands wandering to Jabber’s face and neck, caressing the warm skin there. He grazes over Jabber’s pulse point with a thumb, taking in the way the raider gasps lightly at the contact. Mankira seems to respond—Zanka can feel her, an energy so distinctly alive running through to his fingertips and down to his wrists. It’s intoxicating. He wonders if this is how Jabber feels all the time.
“…Fuck.”
Jabber smiles at him, his bottom lip caught between sharp teeth. “Keep her safe while you mess me up, ‘kay?”
Keep her safe. Zanka has never wanted to do anything more in his life.
thank you ao3 for being an archive and not an algorithm. thank you for letting me like things without consequences, thank you for being free with no ads, thank you for having lawyers to defend our freedom of speech. thank you tag wranglers. thank you to all authors and thank you ao3
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