Hello and welcome! You can call me Kivou/Poe —I won’t be sharing my real name for privacy reasons. Please take a moment to read through everything, including the rules, before requesting.
🌟 About Me
Age: //
Pronouns: She/They
Interests: I love listening to K-pop, especially Le Sserafim. I’m also an anime fan, and my all-time favorite is Inuyasha (though you won’t find any Inuyasha works here—sorry!).
✨ What You’ll Find Here:
One Piece (Requests are closed!)
Blue Lock (Requests are open!)
Alien stage (Requests are closed!)
Windbreaker (Requests are closed!)
Dr Stone (Requests are open!)
Record of Ragnarok (Requests are open!)
Masterlist
More fandoms may be added in the future! I previously wrote for Bungou Stray Dogs, but requests have been removed. However, some old works are still available.
Characters You Can Request!:
⚽ Blue Lock:
Yoichi Isagi
Meguru Bachira
Rensuke Kunigami
Chigiri Hyoma
Bunny iglesias
Itoshi Rin
Itoshi Sae
Ryusei Shidou
Michael Kaiser
Alexis Ness
Kiyora Jin
Seishiro Nagi
Reo Mikage
Shoei Barou
Kurona ranze
Karasu tabito
Hugo
Marc Snuffy
Hiori Yo
☠️ One Piece:
Monkey D. Luffy
Roronoa Zoro
Nico Robin
Vinsmoke Sanji
Trafalgar D. Water Law
Eustass "Captain" Kidd
"Red-Haired" Shanks
Killer
Portgas D. Ace
Boa Hancock
Dracule "Hawkeye" Mihawk
Crocodile
👽 Alien stage:
Hyuna
Till
Ivan
Luka
Mizi
Sua
Dewey
Isaac
Hyunwoo
Jacob
🚲 Windbreaker
Jay Jo
Vinny hong
Takeda Kaneshiro
Ryohei
Minu Yoon
Wooin
Joker
Hyuk
Noah austin
Shelly
Yumi
Hyouma
Oliver
🗿 Dr Stone
Ukyo
Senku
Gen
Chrome
Stanley
Xeno
Tsukasa
Sai
Ryusui
Moz
Matsukaze
Kirisame
Luna
🔱 Record of Ragnarok (newly added!!)
Qin shi huang
Simo Häyhä
Okita Souji
Nostradamus
Nikola Tesla
Hades
Beezlebub
Anubis
Buddha
Apollo
Poseidon
📜 Rules & Guidelines✅
What I Write:
Hurt/Comfort
FluffAngst (I’m still improving on this!)
Nsfw (only for adult characters!!)
🚫 What I Won’t Write:
inappropriate or disturbing content❗
Other Important Notes: Plagiarism is NOT allowed. Feel free to reblog, but do not steal or repost my works. Be respectful. Any rudeness or rule-breaking will result in being blocked or ignored. I may take time to answer requests.
Please be patient—I do my best to get to everyone! You can request as many characters as you want. Let me know if you want separate pieces or a poly request. I only write for female and gender-neutral readers. I struggle with writing male readers, so I won’t be taking those requests. With that said… Welcome to the Library! I hope you enjoy your stay! 💫
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“The clock says that it’s currently 6AM… but how do we know it’s accurate?” [Name] slurs, head in her hands. Simo huffs out a chuckle, eyes covered with his arm as he remains tangled in the sheets. “Stop being lazy, Hon.”
It’s been a while since the couple have had a chance to spend time with one another, due to Simo’s necessity in the army. His stunning success, although it brought great pride to their home, meant that Simo would be preoccupied more than ever before. As much as [Name] was proud of him and joyous of his resistance, she missed the moments where Simo was recognised by his name rather than status, because the schedule was kinder, and they were able to have more moments together.
“Well, this season brings it out on me. Glad you’re here to join me.” [Name] teasingly slips back to him, sighing as she wraps her leg around his. She groans into his chest, lightly skimming her finger over his arm. “I missed this, you know.”
“I missed this, too.” Simo’s eyes fall to the wedding ring nested in his wife’s hand, the jewel twinkling in the light of the window as day begins to break. “You keep me together, my Love. You’re my source of strength.” He admits, lowering his eyes to [Name]’s eager ones and cracks a smile.
“Aw, you’re too sweet. I love you.” [Name] locks her lips with his, smiling into the embrace when he eagerly responds. Shuffles and scratches at the door are audible, and a bark rings out. The couple laugh into the kiss, then separate to look at the shadow underneath the door. “Looks like Killa has her own opinion on how the day should start.” Simo chuckles at that, shoving off the blankets to feed his darling.
“On second thought, we should wake up. Brunch is not in my plans for the day. ” [Name] scurries out of bed, and rushes to the shower. She throws Simo a sly look, tilting her head towards the bathroom, and chuckling when he flusters.
“This was needed.” [Name] smiles at the snow-covered landscape below her, lush with life and blended with nature’s pallette. The trees, although covered with bits of snow, maintain their green due to the eternal sun of the season. Flowers bloom in the isolation, creating a vibrant canvas of different species.
“Yes, it was. Here’s your cup of tea.” Simo passes the drink to her, smiling at the brush of their hands. He ruffles Killa’s fur as she laps up warm water, pausing to rub against his jacket. “Thank you.” [Name] responds, and sips the warm liquid.
“Everything is so quiet at 3AM.” She sighs, taking in the ambiance of the occasional flutter of a tree’s leaves and Killa’s grunts as she digs into the snow across them.
“It brings me back.” Simo admits, looking away for a moment when shame crawls up to him. “It’s okay, Simo. You’re here now.” [Name] brings him into her arms, grounding him to the present. “You’re alright. We’re alright.”
“Thank you.” He says after a moment, and kisses her forehead when they separate. “You’re always welcome.” [Name] responds with a smile, and lightly rubs his shoulder.
“I’m so happy you’re here. I love you.” [Name] kisses his cheek, then leans into his warmth. Killa joins her, occupying their hips and licks Simo’s glove. He laughs at that, and strokes her coat with the occasional belly rub. “I love you, too… so, so grateful to be beside you.”
The night, bright in its embrace, marked another evening where the pair were bonded in their infatuation.
⋆˚ʚ the bllk boys see your thigh muscles and they’re inlove ! ɞ ᵎᵎ
⤷ background : you’re a professional volleyball player and you’re constantly working out to maintain physique, you invite your boyfriend to come with you to work out and he joins you!
⊱ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬: 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢, 𝐫𝐞𝐨, 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐮, 𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
| 𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢:
| 𝐫𝐞𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞:
| 𝐫𝐲𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐮:
| 𝐲𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢:
𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰: @sperocordolium and @kthice for dividers!!
characters apologizing for things they have no control over. mumbling sorry while losing consciousness. feeling ashamed of a bleeding wound. embarrassed when an infection sets in. deep seated feverish guilt when they need to be carried, when their legs won't keep them upright anymore and they lean heavy on a friend, slurring apologies..........
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You know how Gen is able to copy others voices? How about a SMAU Gen X reader (they’re already dating) where Mc is obsessed with a character from a video game they play almost daily
Gen thought it would be funny to talk in the character’s voice to mess with Mc for a bit. Huge mistake, because now Mc is begging Gen to talk in the voice again
Gen gets a bit jealous that Mc is fawning over their favorite character’s voice, not him. So now he’s pouting and being overly dramatic over texts saying stuff like “you don’t love me anymore 💔💔”
The only way to make him feel better is to give him attention for the rest of the day…and night 🤭
hi!! I'm so sorry for taking so long with this request, I know it's easy but I've genuinely been so stressed with Internships because my last place canceled me off and now I'm under lots of stress trying to find a new place within this month, I hope you aren't upset with me!! I haven't forgotten!
heyyyyy,of you are not too overwhelmed with request can I request this?
And to clarify,if you decide to take the request,you dont need to do all the characters,pls take It easy (I feel your pain,fellow uni student).
Lorenzo,kaiser,Ness,Noel,barou and kijora (specially him) with a fem s/o with amazonian body type (An "Amazonian body type" refers to a statuesque, strong, and athletic build, often associated with being unusually tall and powerful) that is very cheerfull and like phisical affection,but its secretly insecure she isn't femenine enough?
Ofc,only if you want :3
have a nice day (Or nigth)!
I feelt overly enthusiastic while writing this but I didnt want to come of as rude (It usually happens to me online)
Hello, hii!
So I’m about 3/4 done with this request now, and while I was working on it, I had a little thought. Instead of posting everything all at once, I think I’m going to post the characters separately. I feel like that way each one gets a bit more attention, and it also keeps things from becoming one giant post.
Sooo I’ll tag you each time I upload the next part, so you don’t miss any of them. That way you’ll still get the full request, just in smaller pieces instead of one big drop at the end.
We’re getting close to the finish line though, so the rest should be up soon!
Amazonian Body~
Blue Lock x Fem Reader
You notice it first in reflections.
Glass doors that catch you off guard. Dark phone screens that throw your outline back at you before you’re ready. Group photos where the flash freezes everything and, in that still moment, you suddenly become aware of yourself all at once—long limbs, broad shoulders, a presence that feels louder than you ever intend it to be. You see the space you take up before anyone else does.
Next to smaller girls, your body shifts on instinct. A subtle angle of the shoulders. A bent knee. Chin tucked in. You try to soften yourself, as if height and bone and muscle can be folded into something quieter if you just try hard enough. You laugh easily, hug freely, touch without thinking—but lately, there’s a pause. A flicker of calculation before every movement.
Am I too much?
Too tall.
Too broad.
Too heavy.
Too noticeable.
You wonder if softness only belongs to smaller bodies. If femininity is something measured in inches and kilograms. If the world expects you to apologize for every step you take.
Kiyora never seems to notice any of that.
Or maybe he notices, and simply refuses to agree with it.
When you hesitate before sitting on his lap, the doubt comes fast and sharp—Will this be awkward? Will I feel heavy? Will he have to adjust?—but he doesn’t give the thought time to root itself. His hands find your hips and pull you down without hesitation, without strain, like this is exactly where you’re meant to be.
He shifts once, barely, settling you against him. Not effort. Instinct.
He leans back, bracing himself, letting you wrap around him however you want. Your weight isn’t something he tolerates. It’s something he anchors to, like it gives him balance.
“Comfortable?” he asks, voice even, like your answer is the only thing that matters.
You nod, breath catching when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. His curls brush your neck. He smells like detergent and sweat and summer air—like sunlight on skin, like real life. He stays there, quiet and solid, as if he’s daring your doubt to come back and try again.
It doesn’t. Not while he’s holding you like that.
In public, he’s subtle about it. Strategic, the way he is on the field. You’ll be mid-conversation, half-aware of yourself, when his hand settles at your waist—firm, unmistakable, grounding. His thumb presses in just enough to remind you he’s there. That you’re not floating alone inside your own thoughts.
His attention never wavers. Blue-brown eyes tracking only you, even as people move around the room. There’s no comparison in his posture. No competition. No measuring or adjusting.
Just certainty.
During photos, he never asks you to lean in. He steps closer himself. Sometimes he dips his head so his curls brush your temple. Sometimes he stands straight, letting the height difference show. Letting it exist without apology.
When someone jokes about it, you feel the words land in your chest before they reach your ears.
Kiyora doesn’t react.
Later, when it’s just the two of you, he says quietly, “You look good in those pictures.”
You scoff, light and defensive. “You’re biased.”
“I’m precise,” he corrects, deadpan. “There’s a difference.”
And for a moment, you almost believe him.
At home, the old instincts creep back in. You curl against him on the couch, then pull away automatically, already apologizing, already shrinking before the thought even finishes forming.
He clicks his tongue softly, a quiet sound of disapproval, and pulls you back. This time, he guides you so you’re half on top of him, legs draped over his hips, your weight resting fully against his chest.
He stretches out beneath you, completely unbothered. Hands steady at your lower back, thumbs warm and certain.
“You’re allowed,” he says.
Not reassurance.
A rule.
Like gravity.
Like fact.
And something inside you loosens, just a little.
You never tell him about the word unfeminine that lives at the back of your throat. The way it echoes when you catch your reflection at the wrong angle. The way you sometimes wish you could step out of your own body and trade it for something smaller, quieter, easier to love.
You don’t have to tell him.
Kiyora notices the quiet battles anyway.
When you dress up and linger in the doorway, uncertain, tugging at fabric that suddenly feels too obvious, too revealing, too much, he looks at you with the same focused calm he brings to a match.
No surprise.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
“You’re beautiful like this,” he says. “Exactly like this.”
And the words don’t feel like flattery. They feel like truth, spoken out loud.
Sometimes, late at night, when the world shrinks down to breath and warmth and the slow rhythm of his heartbeat, you catch him tracing the lines of your arms. Thoughtful. Reverent. Like he’s memorizing something important.
He kisses your shoulder. Your wrist. The places where strength shows itself most clearly.
“You know,” he murmurs, voice low and certain, “grace isn’t about being small.”
His fingers rest over your pulse, steady and sure.
“It’s about how you move through the space you’re given.”
And with him, you start to understand.
Your height isn’t a mistake.
Your weight isn’t a burden.
Your presence isn’t something to apologize for.
You were never too much.
You were simply waiting for a place where you didn’t have to shrink to be loved.
With him, you breathe easier.
Not because he makes you smaller—but because he makes room, and then stands there, unmovable, like you were always meant to fill it.
If you’re able to, Qin Shi Huang meeting someone(preferably female) who went through the same thing he did when he was younger. Like she’s just trying to live through life, ignoring the way people treat her only to eventually reach her breaking point.
“ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴀɴᴄᴇ”
Summary: After a lifetime of swallowing pain, a woman reaches her breaking point. Qin Shi Huang sees in her the child he once was and reminds her that survival was never meant to be silent
genre: Angst • Hurt/Comfort • Trauma & Recovery
The world had always been loud to Qin Shi Huang. Not in sound, but in feeling: pain brushing against his skin, emotions crawling beneath his ribs, the weight of humanity pressing into his bones whether he wanted it or not. He stood above it all as an emperor, chin lifted, back straight, golden armor shining as if nothing could ever touch him. He smiled easily.
Arrogantly. Like a king who had never known fear.
But lies became easier when repeated often.
That is why he noticed her.
She was nothing special to anyone else. A woman among thousands, moving through life without recognition, praise, or a name worth remembering. She walked with her head down, steps measured, hands always clenched as if bracing for impact. People bumped into her and didn’t apologize. Voices sneered. Orders were barked. Blame fell where it was convenient.
She never protested. She bowed her head, murmured apologies that weren’t owed, and smiled that thin, fragile smile that seemed to say please don’t hurt me any more than you have.
Qin Shi Huang’s gaze lingered longer than it should have. It irritated him.
Not because she was weak—no, weakness never bothered him. It was the familiarity. The way her pain pressed against his senses in a dull, constant ache, like a wound that learned to live without healing. She reminded him of a child who had learned early that crying only invited more cruelty.
She reminded him of himself. Born into hatred. Raised as a reminder of slaughter.
A boy who felt every blow twice and learned to smile so no one would see the blood. He survived by pretending pain was irrelevant—by pretending he was already a king.
And she survived the same way.
Days passed, then more. Qin Shi Huang saw her often, whether by chance or something closer to intent. He watched how she worked harder than those around her, only to be dismissed as replaceable. He saw how she endured ridicule without flinching, insults without reply. Even kindness made her tense, as if waiting for the price that always followed.
Her pain never spiked. It never exploded.
It just accumulated.
Until one evening, as rain soaked the stone streets and the air tasted like rust and sorrow, it finally broke.
Qin Shi Huang felt it before he saw it—a sudden, violent surge of anguish tearing through his senses, sharp enough to make his breath hitch. He turned, gold eyes locking onto a narrow alley where lantern light barely reached.
She was there, kneeling in the mud.
Her hands shook as they pressed against her mouth, shoulders caving inward as quiet sobs escaped despite her efforts to silence them. Tears mingled with rain, streaking down her face as if the sky itself was mourning with her. Words echoed faintly in the air, remnants of cruelty still clinging to her skin—mockery, dismissal, that familiar venom of you’re nothing, and you always will be.
She had tried to ignore it.
And it had hollowed her out.
Something in Qin Shi Huang snapped.
Kings should not kneel. Emperors did not descend into filth for mortals who could not even lift their heads. That was what the gods believed.
He proved them wrong.
The mud stained his armor as he crouched before her, his presence overwhelming even in stillness. She froze when she sensed him, eyes wide with fear as she scrambled back instinctively, palms slipping on the wet stone.
“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, voice raw. “I didn’t mean to— I’ll leave, I—”
“Stop.” The word was sharp, absolute. A command forged from centuries of authority. She obeyed without realizing it, breath hitching as she turned her gaze anywhere but at him.
“Why do you endure it?” Qin Shi Huang asked. The question stunned her into silence.
“…What?”
“Why do you let them hurt you?” His voice was quieter now, but heavier. “You bow to cruelty as if it is law.” Her fingers curled tighter into her sleeves. For a moment, she looked like she might laugh—a broken, humorless sound caught in her throat. “I thought,” she whispered, “if I ignored it… it would stop.”
Ah.
That lie.
It echoed too closely with his own past.
“Pain ignored does not vanish,” Qin Shi Huang said. “It rots.” She flinched, tears spilling faster now, shame burning brighter than grief. “I didn’t want to be a problem. I didn’t want to make things worse.”
“You already are hurt,” he replied bluntly. “The only difference is that you suffer alone.” Her breath shuddered. “What else am I supposed to do?” For the first time since he had become emperor, Qin Shi Huang hesitated. Memories surged unbidden—of a child screaming silently, of mirror-touch agony tearing through his body, of hands that struck and words that crushed. Of Chunyan’s voice, gentle and fierce all at once, telling him that pain did not make him small, that surviving did not mean surrendering his right to exist loudly.
He reached out.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
His hand hovered for a heartbeat before settling on her shoulder.
The contact was light.
And devastating.
She gasped as if struck, body tensing, eyes snapping shut as sobs finally broke free—loud, ugly, uncontrollable. Years of swallowed pain came rushing out at once, her composure shattering completely as she folded inward, clutching at his sleeve like a lifeline.
Qin Shi Huang did not pull away.
He stayed.
“You are not wrong for breaking,” he said, voice low and steady. “You are wrong only if you believe you deserve it.” She cried until there was nothing left, breath hitching into weak, exhausted gulps. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were red, hollow, and searching.
“…Why are you helping me?” she asked.
He met her gaze unflinchingly.
“Because I know what happens when no one does.”
Rain continued to fall, washing mud and tears alike into the earth. A king knelt in the filth beside a woman the world had overlooked, and for once, Qin Shi Huang did not smile to hide his pain.
Instead, he let her see it.
And in doing so, reminded them both that survival was not meant to be silent.
I genuinely feel so locked in right now IM GIGGLING
ANYWAYS, so the poll confirmed for me that I should make smau' so feel free to request some smau ideas! Reminder that the fandoms I will make smau's for (FOR NOW) are..
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Hey so like I'm back lowkey.. happy new years gang.. I know I've been gone for awhile..
Ive been thinking of making Smau's lowkey.. and I recently binge watched Record of Ragnarok and am currently reading the manga so I thought It would be a good idea..
The main 3 fandoms I'm thinking of is
Blue lock, Dr stone and Ror..
Obviously I'm gonna make a poll so you guys can help me decide if making Smau's would be a good idea🥹 I need a fic writing break and I feel like doing this would be something new!
Hi Poe! I just wanted to check up on you to see how you’re doing! Also bro tell me why it’s only been like 5 weeks of school AND IM ALREADY SICK 😭🙏 I swear it’s either school air or the students being gross
don't worry!! I'm doing good, I'll be back soon don't worry.. ALSO GET BETTER SOON!!
hey it's me.. again.. so I've lost my motivation again and I'm really sorry!! I'll be back once it comes again, and I'll release my inbox requests.. again I'm sorry!!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Oh Shakespeare it’s time to take chrome to the basement with the others 😍
So I racked my brain for any ideas for chrome, which was kinda hard since I’m lowkey focused on the ones from the modern world + Moz, BUT THE LIGHT BULB LIT UP❗️❗️❗️
(Also sorry that all the requests I made are with a mc and reader from the modern world 😔🙏)
SO. Let’s say the primitive people have an odd way of courting people, or maybe it’s just only chrome who has an odd way of doing it. (We aren’t exactly sure what his type is cuz in the dr stone wiki it just says ‘Ruri’ 😭)
We’re Senku’s sister, instead of being a science dork, we’re more into gemology, so I guess technically are still are a science dork BUT WHATEVER
Chrome LOVES exploring places, he knows the area of the science kingdom like the back of his hand and is a natural at gathering resources. I have a feeling he’d find a cool gem he found while gathering things and excitedly show us, yapping about how cool it looked and asking us what it was.
Bro would probably ask us or Senku what our favorite gem is so he could secretly look for it and gift it to us 🤭 (personally I like rose quartz, idk why but it kinda just makes sense to me. What’s your favorite? 😋)
Remember the episode where he, Senku, and Magma went spelunking? He’d find a cool looking gemstone and be like “Woah this gem looks bad! I should get it for y/n!” out loud and Senku is just looking at home like this
Chrome would definitely ask the four other generals to help him confess. Senku would be a bit reluctant though, not only because he doesn’t really like romance crap, but also cuz THAT’S HIS SISTER 😟😡
But don’t worry he gives in anyway since he wants his dead sister, and only family member alive, to be happy 😋
The Rock That Says… Uh… Something?
It was a typical day in the Kingdom of Science — gears turning, furnaces blazing, half-built contraptions littered across the clearing.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, you sat beneath a makeshift shade cloth, sleeves rolled up and polishing a chunk of raw amethyst with a worn scrap of fabric. You weren’t a “science dork” like your brother, Senku, not exactly — but your heart belonged to the shimmer of crystals, the luster of polished stones, the stories told by minerals forged in the depths of the Earth.
Gemology might not save the world, but it made you happy. And that was what you were good at.
“Oi, Y/N. You spacing out again?” Senku called lazily from where he was tinkering nearby, goggles pushed up on his forehead.
“I’m working,” you replied, not looking up. “Unlike someone.”
Before Senku could shoot back a sarcastic retort, a distant voice cut through the noise of the village:
“Y/N—!!!”
You looked up — and blinked.
A very familiar wild-haired figure came tearing through the clearing at full sprint, a cloud of dust trailing behind him. Chrome. Face flushed from exertion, breathing hard, clutching something close to his chest as if it were the most valuable thing in the world.
“Whoa, what happened—?” you started, rising halfway.
“NO TIME—HOLD ON—!!” Chrome skidded to a stop in front of you, panting heavily. “Y/N—I—!! I found something BAD!!!”
“…Bad?” you echoed, brows arching.
He grinned so wide it nearly split his face. “Like—cool bad!! Not bad bad!!”
You couldn’t help smiling at his enthusiasm. “Alright then, show me.”
With a dramatic flourish, Chrome carefully opened his palms—and there, resting in his hands, was a cloudy pink stone, edges worn smooth from water, glowing faintly in the sunlight.
You sucked in a breath. “That’s—rose quartz.”
Chrome’s eyes lit up. “Yeah!! That’s what Senku called it!! Rosie quartz or—wait—rose quartz!! I—I found it by the river, while I was out looking for new minerals and stuff!! It was just sitting there, like—BOOM, right in the water! And I remembered that time I asked what your favorite gem was and you said rose quartz—so I was like, ‘WHOA, I gotta bring this back to Y/N!!’”
He babbled the whole thing out in one breath, cheeks flushing darker with every word. His excitement was infectious — and honestly, kind of adorable.
You reached out gently, taking the rose quartz from his hands to inspect it. The piece wasn’t perfect — slightly cloudy, a little chipped on one edge — but it was a natural beauty, its soft blush-pink color practically glowing in your palm.
“Chrome,” you said softly, “this is gorgeous. Thank you.”
He froze, eyes wide. “R-Really?! You think it’s cool?!”
“Absolutely,” you smiled. “One of the nicest pieces I’ve seen.”
If possible, his face went even redder. “BAD…!!! I mean—cool!! I mean—uh—great!!!”
You fought back a laugh. He was flustered. It was painfully obvious — not that he noticed.
“But—uh—also,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, “I-I kinda, um… asked Senku about… you know, how people do the whole, uh… courting thing…”
Your eyes twinkled. “Courting?”
He looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. “I didn’t get it!! They said flowers or chocolates or stuff like that—but none of that made sense ‘cause you like rocks!! And I’m good at finding rocks!! So I thought—‘Hey!! What if I gave Y/N a really good rock?!’”
He finished with a slightly desperate look, waiting for your reaction.
You tilted your head, smile growing. “Are you trying to court me, Chrome?”
His whole body locked up. “I—uh—I mean—not—uh—if that’s weird!! Or if you don’t want that!! I mean—! I thought it’d be BAD if you did wanna—!! But if not that’s okay too!! I just—!!”
At this point, you couldn’t help it — you laughed.
“Chrome,” you said warmly, “you’re very sweet. And I love the rose quartz. So… if this is your way of ‘courting’ me—” you gave him a wink— “I think it’s working.”
His jaw dropped.
“…BAD…!!” he gasped, pumping a fist in the air. “That’s—SO BAD—!!!”
You giggled, reaching out to brush a stray leaf from his hair. “Thank you, Chrome.”
At that exact moment—
“…Tch.”
Both of you turned.
Senku stood a few meters away, arms crossed, unimpressed. “Did you seriously just give my sister a rock as a love confession?”
Chrome flailed. “IT’S NOT A CONFESSION—!! I mean—maybe it is—?? But it’s just a COOL rock!!!”
Senku sighed heavily. “Unbelievable. This is why I don’t do romance crap.”
“Senku,” you scolded lightly. “Let him be.”
He gave you a long-suffering look. “Just don’t get yourself proposed to with a pebble. That’s all I’m saying.”
Chrome looked mildly panicked. “I—!! I wasn’t trying to propose!! I swear!!!”
You couldn’t stop laughing this time — the whole situation was so ridiculous, so perfectly Chrome.
But oh… you secretly hoped he’d keep bringing you “bad” rocks.
Later that day…
At some point, Chrome gathered the other generals in a whispered huddle behind the main lab hut.
“Okay listen,” he said urgently. “I need HELP. I-I gave Y/N the rose quartz and I think—maybe—she liked it!! But I dunno if it counted as a confession?? Or if I should… do more stuff???”
Gen smirked, one hand on his chin. “Oho~ A love confession via shiny rocks? How delightfully primitive~”
Ukyo blinked. “That sounds… oddly fitting for you.”
Ryusui frowned. “Are you sure this is wise? She is Senku’s sister…”
Chrome waved his arms. “No, no—Senku won’t vaporize me!! I think!! He just looked annoyed!! But he didn’t stop me, so it’s fine!!”
Kaseki (eavesdropping nearby) gave a hearty laugh. “If you’re gonna do it, do it with all your heart, boy!! Make her the best stone pendant this village has ever seen!!”
Chrome gasped. “THAT’S IT—!! A PENDANT!!! That’d be so BAD!!!”
He immediately sprinted off, shouting: “GOTTA FIND THE PERFECT STONE!!!”
What if Ryusui with a reader that just... doesn't really know how to express gratitude?
like. I do not process any emotions well, but I usually mask decently & am friendly. but one thing I CAN'T replicate well for some reason is gratitude for unexpected gifts. I appreciate all gifts i get, but I'm pretty sure I always just seem like "oh thanks... an avocado..."
I don't. purposefully try to be ungrateful or anything. I wear clothes people give me (as long as they're not Sensory Hell), jewelry goes in My Collection Of Shiny, I'll draw in sketchbooks, cuddle stuffed animals, etc, and I REFUSE to get rid of anything that was given to me as a gift lmao
i just think Ryusui trying to woo a reader who's default reaction is just a calm "oh- uhm- thanks-" would be a funny premise.
"I don't think reader likes my gifts :("
"... they hissed at me like a feral cat when I suggested using the jewelry for science-"
A Dragon’s Greatest Challenge
Ryusui Nanami was, in most things, a man of certainty.
Business, politics, exploration — all required clarity of vision, confidence, drive. And those were qualities he had in spades.
Wooing others? Please — effortless. He’d once made a career of it. Lavish gifts, charming words, the right timing — it was practically a science. An art form he had long since mastered.
But you…
You were a mystery wrapped in calm tones and polite smiles, and it drove him mad.
He’d noticed you early on in the Kingdom of Science’s growing community. You had a sharp eye, a steady presence — friendly enough, good at playing along, but something about you always felt… held back. Not distant, just controlled.
And Ryusui liked puzzles.
So naturally, he began his campaign: small, thoughtful gifts. To show you he was paying attention. A way to say “I see you.”
The First Gift
It was a bracelet — handmade from golden threads, small beads and shells, woven with care. Light enough not to be irritating, elegant in a subtle way.
He presented it with a grand flourish, because of course he did.
“For the most intriguing one among us,” he said, flashing a grin. “A token of admiration.”
You blinked up at him, startled.
A beat of silence.
“Oh. Uhm— thanks.”
A quiet voice. No flush, no spark of surprise. Just that small, soft phrase — and then you tucked the bracelet carefully into your pocket.
Ryusui stood there for a long moment, brows lifting. That was… not the reaction he expected.
The Second Gift
Maybe you didn’t like jewelry? He pivoted. This time: a rare fruit, sweet and juicy, one that took effort to find on the coastline.
He found you near the workshop, set the fruit before you with a wink. “For you,” he said, tone playful. “A delicacy worthy of a discerning palate.”
Again — that blink. A pause.
“Oh. Thanks. I’ll eat it later.”
You picked it up and moved on, leaving Ryusui standing there again, dumbfounded.
The Third Gift
Determined now, Ryusui crafted a beautiful leather-bound sketchbook, the cover embossed with a dragon — his signature motif.
He handed it to you with a note, a dramatic tilt of his head: “For the one whose eyes always see what others miss.”
And… the same reaction.
“Oh. Thanks.”
You took it gently and walked away.
By the fourth attempt, Ryusui was sprawled dramatically across a log in camp, arm slung over his face.
“They don’t like my gifts,” he moaned to Senku, Chrome, and Minami. “It’s tragic! No joy, no delight — nothing! Doomed, before I even begin!”
Senku didn’t even look up. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Chrome tilted his head. “I saw them using the sketchbook earlier.”
Ryusui shot upright. “What?!”
Chrome pointed: across camp, there you were, sitting beneath a tree, completely absorbed in your drawing — the dragon sketchbook open on your lap, bracelet glinting on your wrist.
Minami crossed her arms. “Maybe your ego’s too big to see it, but they like your gifts. They just don’t show it the way you expect.”
Ryusui stared at you for a long moment.
You weren’t faking. You weren’t being polite out of obligation. You were using the gifts, wearing them. Treating them with care.
A grin tugged at his mouth. “How fascinating…”
From then on, he adjusted his strategy. No more grand gestures, no big expectations. He would give quietly — and watch, and learn.
Weeks later, he left a delicate necklace in your work kit, with a simple note: “For no reason but my own greed — to see you shine.”
He didn’t approach you about it. Simply waited.
Later, he spotted you — the necklace around your neck, no fuss, no words.
That was better than any blushing thanks.
But the real breakthrough came soon after.
Ryusui was helping Senku test a new metallurgical process, in need of a conductor for the circuit. He happened to spot, neatly tucked in your box of personal things, a few of the necklaces and trinkets he’d given you.
“Mind if I borrow this for science?” he called lightly, reaching.
You froze mid-step. Your gaze sharpened. And then — you hissed.
An actual hiss. Shoulders hunched, eyes narrowed, arms wrapping protectively around your collection.
Ryusui blinked. Then — he laughed. Loud and full of life.
“Oh-ho! So that’s how it is! A dragon guarding their hoard!” He beamed. “You do like them — you treasure them! I knew it!”
You flushed, but stubbornly didn’t deny it — simply gathering your things and tucking them safely away.
From that point on, it became a private game.
Ryusui still brought you gifts: small, thoughtful, useful. A rare stone for your collection. New cloth, smooth and soft. A book of pressed flowers.
He never pressed for thanks. But each time, he watched.
When he saw a bracelet appear on your wrist, or you used a tool he’d repaired for you, or found the fruit he’d left tucked in your bag eaten the next morning — it thrilled him.
You weren’t cold. You weren’t ungrateful.
You were simply… someone whose heart worked in quieter ways.
And that — to Ryusui — made you all the more fascinating. A new kind of treasure, one he had to learn how to read. And he would — gladly.
Months Later
Sitting beneath the stars on the deck of Perseus, you glanced up at Ryusui where he leaned against the railing, arms crossed, watching the sea.
“… You’re still giving me gifts,” you said softly.
He looked down at you, grin lazy but warm. “Of course. I’m greedy, remember? Greedy for everything beautiful.”
You fiddled with your bracelet — one of his first gifts. “I’m… not good at showing thanks. I do appreciate them. A lot.”
Ryusui’s grin softened. “I know.”
A pause. He reached out, gently flicking the dragon pendant at your throat.
“I see you wear them. Guard them like treasure. That says more than words, my dear.”
You blinked at him — then, for once, smiled. Small. Real.
“…Thanks.”
And for Ryusui Nanami — king of the new world, sailor of seas and hearts — that was worth more than all the riches in the world.
