#I USED TO BE AGAINST THIS SHIP I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED

[l-in-the-light]

The most embarrassing series of posts about Lawlu you will ever read: edition Wano (part 15)

Finally, it's time to analyze the raid! Lots of scrutinizing, sometimes literally frame by frame analysis here, hehe. I had a blast preparing it, hope you all enjoy :3

And we start from the very beginning of the raid, yeah, that's right :D it's interesting how Luffy had the choice to fight in samurai attire but decided against it at the last moment and went on with his own clothes instead. The mantle looks a bit similar to what Shanks wears, but it's curious how both Law AND Luffy suddenly came up with the same idea, both wearing mantles while never caring for it before, right? Great minds think alike, or perhaps...? It's always curious to see Luffy, who is very attached to his usual clothes, to change his wardrobe to fit the occassion :D it's more evident in movies I guess. But on the way to Dressrosa, Luffy did enjoy dressing as a samurai a lot.

Those mantles are reminescent of Shanks and Cora-san respectively ofc. I don't count Kid, he was wearing his furry one ever since Sabaody, heh.

Law allows Luffy to get the spotlight here btw and for him to say one of the coolest lines of the whole raid too. He might mind taking orders or looking bad in front of third parties (like Kid), but overall? He gives away the credit. Aren't they equal in this alliance after all? Yet he chooses again for Luffy to take the centre of the stage.

In a moment Law will be moody and picking up fights lol, but it doesn't override this tranquil moment of just "standing" side by side with his ally. Speaking of picking up fights, manga and anime provide us two different reasons behind it though. Let's start with the anime.

Anime added a tiny little interaction which I made into a gif above (I wanted a vid, but eh, no matter how much I converted, it still didn't want to upload here, so the gif would have to do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯).

Luffy (his ship passes by Law's ship, he smiles but doesn't say anything to Law, instead shouts to Kid): You came after all, Gizao!

Kid: I won't let you have Kaido's head, Strawhat!

Law: *tsk*

Luffy doesn't say the usual "HI TORAO!" or give any sort of acknowledgment to Law and instead focuses on Kid there. But if you followed with my analysis for all the previous parts then you know already that it basically never happened before. Luffy is always spotting Law and giving him attention immediately. But here, arguably only the smile might have been meant for him (or not, debetable, he did smile towards Kid before in Udon when he asked him to beat Kaido together).

Law's reaction to all of that? He just made an annoyed noise. He didn't get Luffy's attention, even though by all means he should have expected to get some acknowledgement of his presence. And to rub salt into the wound, Kid got that attention instead. The very same Kid Law was jealous about twice before! LOL The first time was on the way to Dressrosa (Luffy getting excited finding out about Kid's alliance) and second time in Wano, when Law noticed news about Kid being kept in Udon. He made quite a big reaction, especially so in the anime, when he was completely spiraling into his own thoughts and neglected everything happening around him for a bit, lol. I think this indeed proves, perhaps, that Law is jealous. Kinda relatable, he's Luffy's ally, he was there for the whole ride, not Kid, why would Luffy give all the attention to the new friend he found in Udon instead? If I can relate to this so easily then perhaps it means I'm just as petty omg.

But little does he know, Luffy probably acted this way because of his undying confidence in Law. Of course Law appeared at the day of the raid, Luffy would never doubt that. Kid, on the other hand, was a big unknown in comparison and told Luffy before that he won't show up, so... Luffy is lowkey calling out Kid for his lie here, heh. And we know Luffy dislikes it when people lie to him!

Luffy was in fact so confident and had so much faith in things working out (despite leaving it all in other people's hands, like Law's or Kinemon's), that he stuffed himself silly and fell asleep, so he's well rested before the battle. The very same Luffy who protested in WCI that rest and bath should be reserved for after-battle celebrations, mind you. Now he acts almost like he listened to doctor's advice to gather the most strength and not waste it around before the raid. You think he listened to Chopper? Nah, for once that wasn't coming from Chopper. We heard that discourse of "saving up your strength for the raid" from this particular individual:

Which means, Luffy again did listen to Law. Good boy. But wait, you might say, Luffy wasn't present in this scene! Sure, he wasn't, but his crew was and Law basically drilled into their heads this mindset (now that I think of it, he probably can be a bit annoying with repeating the same stuff again and again. He has this slightly preaching vibe about him). They for sure told Luffy after he broke out of Udon.

This one is a bit curious. Kinemon is apologizing that the plan got leaked and Luffy looks very surprised (he's not looking at Kanjuro despite their frames being right after one another). Luffy didn't know about Kanjuro's betrayal yet at this point, so it would make no sense for him to stare at him (Kanjuro's frame is there because he's gleefully proud of himself as being the source of trouble). So what or who is Luffy looking at? Considering what Kinemon is saying, he's looking in his direction, clearly confused. And where is Kinemon kneeling? On Law's submarine.

Yes, it's likely Luffy isn't looking at Kin directly, but more like searching for Law's reaction to this. But Luffy isn't distressed, he's a bit surprised instead and seeking for confirmation, imo. Despite that, it doesn't faze him, not really (when was Luffy ever fazed in situations like that anyway? Luffy's usual idea how to deal with complications is by beating more bad guys), he's just concerned because he cares a lot for both Kin and Law (and by extension for samurais and the raid).

In next page, they find out from Kaido's minions that Kaido and Big Mom formed an alliance together. Everyone is reacting with shock to the news and focus on the alliance part... except this guy again, reacting with a very annoyed face and spurting "Big Mom...?!!" instead.

Law reacts to the news about Big Mom firstmost, because he remembers who travelled to her territory to get one of his people back, uhum. And swore not to cause any trouble and do it discreetly. Now Law found out the "discreet" part completely failed and Luffy managed to bring his tail (in the form of a very furious emperor of the sea) with him to Wano. He doesn't seem very pleased with that. He's so overfocused on it that the whole "alliance between emperors" thing feels *less siginificant* in this moment, even though it's devastating news! LOL. Please, mr Strategist, keep it together, without you this raid won't ever reach Kaido!!

He's not very pleased with this outcome, because in the next pages he calls Luffy per "idiot" which he actually doesn't do very often (just sometimes), but always when it's deserved (it's completely deserved here lol).

And I think this disappointment that Luffy brought Big Mom with him is the explanation of why Law is acting like a brat and wants to take over (in the manga). No more giving away the spotlight! Law has to again tidy things up after Luffy, after all. This might also be his silly anger that is hiding the fact he got worried. What exactly did Luffy do in WCI? Law must have asked himself that question countless times before, but decided it's not important to know the details as long as Luffy is back. Seems their escape was not safe at all and it's the moment Law realized it. It probably hit him like a piano to the coyotte's head like in that cartoon, you know which one, right??

Putting his inner thinking process aside, we shouldn't forget how rare it is that Law is feeling like "showing off" and quarreling like a brat with the other Supernovas. He's always the responsible guy, only with them he acts a bit like a child, and we know most of his childhood got robbed from him. So all of this results in unforeseen wholesome consequences, Law can behave more freely, like a bratty teen for once.

Important to note here is that Law is only speaking to Luffy directly and facing him as they quarrel. Kid faces Law, but never gets any attention back, lol. It's even more emphasized in the anime version:

Oh boy, in the anime the insult only gets worse. Not only Luffy didn't acknowledge Law's presence, he also gave out an order "stand back" in everyone's hearing range. Add Law's jealousy to it and annoyance about the Big Mom, and Law's big reaction isn't suddenly so strange anymore. It's easy to understand why he would tell Luffy to stand back instead and that he can't rely on him anymore.

Luffy doesn't want to give in and doesn't understand why Law doesn't let him take care of things. Luffy is a simple person, when he says someone takes care of something, he always lets them do it, so he really wants to know why Law wouldn't let him. Normally Luffy also would just proceed to do whatever he wants anyway, but he stops and takes time to actually *listen to Law* first instead. He's also (comically) taken really aback when Law shouts at him, calling both him and Kid morons. Luffy is not used to Law treating him like that lol. Seriously, he's not! Law always downplays Luffy's blame in everything, gives away his own credit and gives in to Luffy, but here, for some reason, he insists not to. But Luffy realized whatever it is, Law is not feeling like sharing the reason, so he decides to do what he usually does: showing Law he's capable of dealing with this no problem, on his very own.

Now let's take a closer look at Law and his body language here. Despite Law's assertive words and declaration that he can't count on Luffy, when Luffy asked to leave the enemy ships up to him, Law did lower his hand that was already prepared to set up the room. Again, his body language and words contradict each other, he says he can't rely on Luffy but he also lowers his hand like he's prepared to do just that: rely on him. He still respects Luffy enough to pause and talk, even if he has no intention of giving in. He also clenches his hand into a fist right afterwards, which can mean that he's made a firm resolve here: to act a certain way and preservere despite his initial instinct. To provide another examples of similar situation, he clenched his fists when he wanted to run out of the hospital and didn't want to visit any doctors (in the flashback), but he stayed for Cora-san. He also clenched his fist like that when Luffy was leaving for Whole Cake Island, like a reminder of his own resolve. did Law actually want to go with him instead? I guess we will never know...

Want my wildest guess here? I think Law regretted leaving Luffy alone with the WCI mission (if he did go as well, he would make sure not to bring Big Mom along!), thought he was wrong to leave for Wano himself and should have followed Luffy like he wanted to, which is why here he wants to take over now to compensate for it, lol.

But you know, he might just be simply petty because he disliked that Luffy gave him an order, in front of Kid of all people. It's rarely just one reason for Law's behaviour anyway.

Of course Law wins in their little competition thanks to the rain. He also says: "You two are losers, no complaints then, right?" which shows that he thinks that winning in the race is enough to make them stand back, because (in his mind) he won his right to take care of the things. In a way, that's somehow honorable. But it's also his answer to what Luffy said "first come, first served" - Law was the first one so Luffy should by all means back off, lol. Luffy almost got forced to accept that, but he doesn't, he's too stubborn for that. It's hard to say who is more stubborn sometimes: Law or Luffy. Law also constantly regrets his decision to compete in the first place, if his furrowed brows reactions are anything to go by.

It's funny how Luffy is still going on about Law retreating, like he truly expected him to. Who knows, maybe in other circumenstances, Law actually would, lol. Here we are, taking Law's reaction in the raid as a given, as his *usual* reaction (hating to take orders, not leaving things up to Luffy, not liking to be treated as support), but seems it's actually something that is *against their usual dynamics* instead. Why would Luffy be so baffled otherwise? Luffy is not an idiot who doesn't pay attention to his friends, he does his best with that. He's at least smart enough to figure out how Zoro and Sanji are super important for each other, despite always fighting and quarreling. And yet here Luffy is only getting more and more baffled, which explains why he later paid so much attention to Law's moody attitude at Onigashima's roof battle as well. He knew Law was in bad mood ever since the beginnng of the raid and acted strange, and Luffy finally was able to identify the (biggest part of the) reason behind that (spoiler alert: it was the presence of Kid). Not here yet though, lol.

Law's comments about his room are also quite hilarious. When he answers Luffy he's just like "who cares" or "so what", dismissive, because Luffy should have known better not to pick up a competition with him in the rain, Luffy knows his devil fruit ability pretty well by now. Honestly, Luffy can blame only himself here. Law didn't even have to acknowledge his comment in any way, but he did, because well, he can never resist giving attention to Luffy, even when they're quarreling. That's some crazy standards he has right there and seems he only has them for people he likes/respects (and in most cases it's Luffy). Law's answer to Kid is much worse: "I don't want to hear that from you (who is a show off)". He's just being mean to him and only because he can, lol. Though it's true Kid is a show off, so you know, just stating the facts ;)

Now after they destroyed that ship, it's time for more arguing, of course. In previous series of screenshots I included the frame in which they attack the ships. Law destroyed the ship's keel at the top (his attack is indicated by the blue light), while Luffy and Kid both did side attacks instead. If you remember Water 7, keel is the ship's spine, doing damage to it is literally rendering the ship useless and beyond repair. I will let you judge who was the one who ultimately destroyed those ships :D also this sorta proves Law has some basic knowledge about how ships work! Not that I ever doubted it.

Kid immediately tries to brag, but Law ignores his comment completely and doesn't even look at him, he just points towards the next target. He has already resigned himself to be in company of morons lol. Luffy also looks at Law and decides he will show off to Law some more, by destroying the very ship Law pointed towards! He's surprised that he got Law's direct reply (his face goes all :O for a second). Why would Luffy be so surprised that Law answered him? He should be used to it by now? Indeed, but Law is behaving strange according to Luffy here and he just saw him ignore Kid completely, despite Kid complaining for being ignored. Luffy must have thought he will get the same treatment as Kid did, perhaps because Law is angry, but surprise, Law didn't ignore him. He talks to Luffy and even looks at him as he does. I can only imagine Kid fuming even more when he noticed the difference in treatment lol.

But the thing he tells him is another matter heh. Of course Law points out that he was the one who destroyed the ship and the others are just playing around, not taking this seriously. Luffy is mad, because he is taking it seriously, he's just unaware that the damage he dealt and the damage Law dealt are fundamentally different (one was fatal, the other didn't have to be). It's still quite a childish thing to quarrel about anyway, lol.

In the manga as well, Law is mostly facing Luffy and pointing at him when they quarrel, completely ignoring Kid. So who thinks Kid feels here like a third wheel?

I also wonder if Luffy secretly slightly enjoys having a competition with Law (just the competition part, not the quarrel part!). You can see his eyes going all serious and business-like a couple of times, lol.

Then we have a break from the fight and everyone learns the raid is gonna be just fine, samurais made it. Luffy cheered up quickly and Law calmed down as well, seems he let out the steam and he embraced the Big Mom's situation already. He even is back to being worried 24/7 and reminds Luffy that Big Mom is unforeseen circumenstances here so he shouldn't let his guard down. Look at him, he doesn't even mention that it was Luffy's fault that Big Mom is even here in the first place! Despite this being a perfect opportunity for it! Now that I think of it, I can't remember even one situation in which Law blamed Luffy openly or directly for anything. He is capable of doing that to other people though, he blamed Zoro from head to toes at the start of the arc, lol. Just not Luffy... He kinda accepted it as something caused by, you know, natural causes ;) Besides, if Law really thinks he should have come along to WCI, then of course he takes the blame on himself instead in the end (as in: he could have prevented this outcome).

After they learn about Denjiro's betrayal of Kaido, Luffy laughs. Law looks to his side then, and when we follow the next frame we see of them, it seems he was looking at Luffy, not the ships. Catching Luffy smiling made him look at him and smile too, huh. I love the anime staff for adding this little interaction here between them. It's almost too cute and wholesome ❤

Anyway, I guess they're good already, quarrel's over, we can all go home now, lol.

In next moment Law already moved on, somehow thinking Luffy and Kid are done as well. They're so not, lol. Law doesn't bother anymore though, finally leaving it up to them, even though he thinks destroying the few leftover ships is actually no longer neccessary.

It's especially funny to compare it to his attitude from the very beginning, before they learned about the Big Mom being in Wano. He's commenting "they're showing off again" and smirking at the sight, completely calm. That attitude won't be back till the end of the raid lol. RIP.

Then we learn that Jimbei is here to join the Strawhats crew. Law is disbelieving with "uso daro?!" (literally: "you're lying, right?" or less literally how it's translated above lol). No one's tricking you Law, but his reaction proves that he never heard of this development before, despite the fact Luffy wanted Jimbei to join ever since Fishman Island! He had multiple occassions to mention it to Law, even if he couldn't have the opportunity to do it after WCI.

Now why does Law care so much? Is it because he feels ignored as an ally? Or perhaps? He feels a bit weirded out, because after Marineford, it was him and Jimbei in Amazon Lily witnessing Luffy rampaging in grief and sorrow, and now it turns out that same Jimbei is joining Luffy's side... I wonder what incredulous thoughts are going through Law's head in this moment. Is he terrified? Impressed? Both at the same time? Let's not forget Luffy did declare Law his crewmate all by himself in Dressrosa already and Law's expression might be the flashback to that memory, because this puts Jimbei and Law in suspiciously similar positions here (parallels-wise). Both of them were there at Amazon Lily with Luffy, both are captains of their own crews, even both of them were warlods of the sea at some point! Tbh I would be also questioning my sanity here, if I was Law, lol.

Kid's reaction to the new development quickly turns to him smirking and walking away, minding his own business. It's interesting, because right after we see Law's reaction which is the direct opposite. He's staring in Luffy's ship direction, not even looking away when Kinemon joins him. He seens a bit whimsical or even has this odd lonely aura around him. Actually, he kinda is left out here. He's Luffy's ally, right now they're together, but he gets kinda excluded from this event. Like yeah, it's not his business, it's Luffy's own crew, not Law's. And yet his *stare* says something different here.

Anime really put emphasis on it, but he does the exact same in manga, if you pay attention. He's also saying that slightly spiteful and petty comment (it is a bit spiteful, come on, let's face that fact). Also I can't help but think that Law is staring at Luffy directly again who is doing all those cheerful excited gestures with his hands raised above him. Their ships are close enough that they can hear what the Strawhats are saying, so definitely can see it too.

Also if you think Law never intended to create a plan for Strawhats because he finally learned to leave them be, then think back to what he did right after explaining the plan (very reluctantly because he was still holding some grudge apparently) to Kinemon and samurais.

His plan already included Strawhats in it (in quite a brilliant way, he decided to use their natural tendencies and made place for it in his double diversion tactics, even if it is also funny af). He calls them just "two idiots" which in Japanese is a bit more nuaunced... he says "baka nikai" (a very curious phrase to use. Nikai is how you count the number of times something happened, most often used as "twice". So the meaning should be closer to something like this: "no matter what plan you think of, there will be an occurance of some idiot (make the occurance twice) appearing to ignore it anyway". Would be so fitting for his peculiar way of speaking sometimes, lol). He feels the need to specify how many idiots he means, because he's speaking to the samurais and they don't know Kid, so he provides helpful context (not really, just the base minimum of it lol). He actually specifies it like an afterthought here, which proves he uses "baka" for plural people quite frequently. This is also second time he officially does that, I wrote about the first use in the previous post. Baka can be used to refer to plural number of people, no need for unnatural forms like baka-tachi, it all depends on the context in the end, as always.

Right after he tells samurais the plan, he goes back to stare at Luffy's ship only to realize it's gone now. He probably wanted to try to tell them what they decided, despite what he declared earlier: that there's no need to set up a plan for Luffy's group or share anything with them, lol. He went back on his own words really quickly.

It happens in anime as well and is more emphasized. Someone's worried again lol. What happened to "don't bother with them" attitude, Law? :D yep, already completely gone. So yeah, if you believed his petty spite from earlier, congrats, you fell for him pretending not to care, lol yes, I fell for it too, only after analysis it dawned on me that he was just petty.

In manga he's much calmer, but then he's also turned with his back to the reader, so it's also harder to tell. His reaction seems less big in comparison and his speech bubble is normal, not shouting :) he also doesn't seem very alerted, which indeed proves that in the manga, Law got a bit more used to Strawhats antics and doesn't overreact to every tiny thing anymore (which is both awesome and a bit of a pity, but at least we have the anime to still deliver on that overreacting front, hehe).

For comparison purposes. Completely different attitude, haha.

Luffy and the Strawhats destroy one of the minor (but important) enemy bases and Luffy spots Law's submarine and waves to Kinemon immediately, looking very happy. This shows Luffy probably did hear Kin shouting to them before, he was just too excited to react in time :D

If you think Luffy only thinks of Kinemon here, you would be gravely mistaken. It's likely he spotted the submarine and got happy instantly because of the Polar Tang's captain as well. After all, Kinemon and Law ARE on same ship. I swear Brook is looking there too... or is he staring at Zoro and Sanji bickering with each other? Lol.

The same moment in the anime. You can spot the exact moment in which Luffy's beaming smile appears as he spots the submarine ❤ he's also doing his happy X pose and waving his hands like crazy hoping they can see him.

Luffy wants to celebrate Jimbei joining the crew with the Strawhats here (it was actually prompted by Franky first, believe it or not), but then ditches the idea after submarine swims by. This moment puzzled many fans, me included, which is why I was cracking my head open to try to see if I missed something and why does this feel so damn important. Even the chapter's title, "Party Off", underlines the fact that they're delaying the party for crew joining, and by all means this chapter should be called instead with Jimbei's crewmate number (shall be the 9th, because Brook's chapter was called the 8th). I have come to my own conclusions and I will share them at the end of this post.

There will be a lot of focus on the anime, because it really expands on this scene. It's also one of the episodes done by the most oustanding animator in OP's anime department (she also did the famous One Piece Fan Letter special).

Luffy is really moved seeing the energy of the samurai, who are led by the Polar Tang and Kinemon in the front. Now, Kin is not the captain of the ship. He was not the one to give the order to move on, that was Law. We don't see it happen, but it's a natural logical conclusion; only captains give orders for the ship to charge forward. We need to have it clear in our heads, Law originally wanted to kick out the samurais from his ship and refused to do anything before they get off. But after he gave in and included himself in the revised plan, he wanted to tell Luffy the news. Look at the things from his perspective. Luffy didn't wait, just moved on and tried to make a celebration while they should be moving on immadiately, like samurais say it: time is of essence because Kanjuro is already on the move to report to Orochi! So Law wanted to tell Luffy stuff, but Luffy just wanted to party. Remember Punk Hazard and how taken aback Law was when he asked Luffy to move on quickly and that they don't have time for parties now, but Luffy ignored him? This is payback. Law told samurais to move on and not wait for Luffy, because he got annoyed, both by the fact Luffy didn't wait for him here and also because of the flashback to Punk Hazard. This time, Law pushes his point across, which is: THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO CELEBRATE STRAWHAT-YA.

You can see Luffy's change of mind as meaningful answer to that. This time, he listened and followed Law's lead. LUFFY FOLLOWED LAW'S LEAD. You heard me right.

But that's not all there is to it, there is a lot of subtle subtext going on besides that. In many visual cues like Luffy's mug timed to Oden's footstep, the emphasis on Luffy putting his hat back on while he stares after the submarine, and in all the small reactions each Strawhat shows to Luffy's decision. It's a feast to analyze.

In this visually stunning moment, Kin and Oden are facing opposite directions, but it looks like Oden is charging ahead, encouraging his samurais to follow behind him again. And the last of Oden's stomps turns into Luffy's mug landing on the ground with a loud "don", replacing the sound from the present with the one from the past.

And then Luffy announces to just delay the party for later, after they win and everyone follows through with smiles.

But who started this dynamic exchange? Do the Strawhats know why Luffy called quits here?

Zoro quickly smirks, he would follow Luffy no matter what, but he's also the one who is with Luffy the longest, so he knows thanks to his extraordinary intuition what's in his captain's head.

Sanji is only observing at first, more every detail about Luffy's behaviour than his words. Then Luffy does his "heeheehee" laugh (as opposed to his usual shishishi), which finally makes Sanji crack a little smile that turns into full blown hehehe laugh mirroring Luffy's own when he says the line "after we beat up Kaido". Their interaction here gives off some sharing our very own little secret vibes, ngl. And my guess is that it reflects their reinforced bond from Whole Cake Island.

Quick refresher from WCI situation. Sanji tells Luffy "I didn't tell you to wait..." despite the fact he can't even face him, because he did write in his letter a lie that "he will be back". Luffy laughing again with this "heeheehee" to both Zoro and Sanji, and basically never to anyone else (again, his usual laugh sounds this way: shishishi). Luffy knows the truth in both cases (Sanji's lie and Zoro's worry), but he also did something else amazing in WCI: he mirrored Sanji's own promise with his own one "I will be back", "I made a promise". In both cases, after my analysis, I came to the conclusion that both Luffy and Sanji meant specific people with their promises, but have real trouble admitting it outloud. This laugh became their little secret sign that it's okay, I know what you mean even if you don't say it. And in Wano episode they do it again. What's the secret message this time? It actually didn't change. By laughing and talking about beating Kaido Luffy actually means the person he's beating Kaido for. Momo? Kinemon? You think? Nah, the deal was made before Kin or Momo were even part of the picture. It was because of alliance with Law of course. And yes, I think the animator behind this Wano episode saw the same secret communication I saw as well between Luffy-Sanji-Zoro and this episode is 100% refering to that, lol. Ngl, feels good that someone else picked up on it too.

And then we have Nami, who also seems to understand, braves herself and scolds Luffy (which surprises Usopp, he can tell she's faking it lol). Whether she gets the secret message doesn't matter, though I'm sure if she got it she would think it was to be expected and "very much like Luffy". Usopp can definitely tell something's oddly special about this too (his eyes dart scrutinizing from Nami to Sanji to Zoro, all the people who always "can tell what's up"), but he didn't pinpoint the reason himself yet. He will probably realize it only muuuch much later, but he gathered the pieces for now. Robin is an enigma like always, Chopper is clueless (also like always), Franky probably just doesn't mind (he was the one reminding Luffy to stay undercover in Dressrosa so he can be the responsible one when needed, so why would he mind it here. The reason provided by Luffy was probably 100% enough for him), Brook keeps his thoughts to himself (I'm sure he knows though lol), and Jimbei complies. Tbh the latter has no reason to complain, he *was* extremely late to the raid anyway. But it's very lovely that they ask him to be the one to make the final decision, because the shared drinks was to welcome him! He makes sure to be the first one to follow through with Luffy's gesture and everyone joins in.

Even though they delayed it (kinda indefinitely, curiously enough), this scene makes it look like even just putting the mugs down is already partial celebration, which is pretty wholesome.

And it all ends with this shot, just before the "to be continued" screen, which makes a perfect scene rendition and end of the episode, and also something often being recalled to later on in the anime, even in the endings, suggesting the circle, despite looking complete, seems to be waiting for continuation, just like the "tbc" screen spells it.

From this point on, this post enters the headcanon/speculation territory, so please keep it in mind or skip it if you're not interested! There won't be anything new in the analysis after this, as I'm finishing this post with that.

You know what's great about One Piece's storytelling, right? The parallels. How about we parallel this ending frame to the one from the very beginning of the same episode then? :D It's actually a shot of Onigashima island but we see that also right before the mugs were placed down, so okay, we can see common theme here. So what's the very next scene?

Law looking towards both Onigashima and the torii gate Luffy will ransack later on in this same episode, the very same place they're supposed to celebrate Jimbei joining the crew. The very same celebration Polar Tang with Kinemon in front of it interrupted :) do you see the full picture?

"I want to celebrate it with everyone" says Luffy. Law's name doesn't get mentioned, but he is definitely part of the "everyone". Maybe even a very special part of it, if this little parallel is anything to go by.

I think Luffy is waiting for Law to join the crew, which is why the celebration and the numbered chapter with Jimbei's number is still on hold. Maybe even the numbered chapter will be a joined one (both for Jimbei and Law), just like it was for Usopp and Franky in Water 7. It won't happen in Wano though, not that we know of at least. "But Law has his own crew!!!" Funny you mention that, Jimbei used to be a captain of his own crew of Sun Pirates as well, that didn't stop Luffy nor anyone else from recruiting him. "But he loves Heart Pirates!!" do you suggest Jimbei didn't love Sun Pirates??? "But Law will never serve under Luffy!!" Please, that's never how it worked in Strawhats either. No one is Luffy's subordinate! In fact, I don't think you can find any other crew that is as equal as his. Even Law's own crew has more hierarchy going on. But let's put all those doubts aside, because this is honestly not the place for it.

Let's focus instead on Luffy's decision: that Law is gonna be his crewmate, because That Actually Happened and it's canon. It all started in Punk Hazard, Luffy called alliance with Law as "it's something like being friends!". In Dressrosa, that already grew into "He's my crewmate!" (told to Cavendish to prevent him from trying to harm Law, but we all know Luffy, he would never toss those words like that if he didn't actually believe them himself). And now, in Wano, Luffy looks after Polar Tang and that makes him put his mug away. They're not a complete crew yet, someone is missing and Luffy wants to do it properly. Luffy decided to wait till Law is ready. That's how I see this.

But Law refused him twice already! He said in Dressrosa he's not Luffy's crewmate, he protested in Zou when Luffy declared alliance is friendship! Double refusal! Yeah, he did that, even though second example wasn't about Luffy's friendship in particular that he protested against, just Luffy's definition of the alliance concept (ffs Law they warned you. Usopp and Sanji both warned you! You deserve every single second of this suffering lol). And yes, in Dressrosa he clearly denied, but Luffy also never asked him, just made a declaration on his own. Without a question, there's no refusal that he will take into account. And even if there was a question, Luffy often decides on his own and pursues someone he chose relentlessly. He did it with Nami before (following her to Arlong Park), Zoro, Usopp, Sanji (how many times did Sanji manage to refuse Luffy? it barely fazed the latter), Chopper, Robin (Water 7/Enies Lobby situation), Franky (it was prompted, but still counts), Brook (remember? he also refused Luffy despite initial agreement), and Jimbei (how many arcs did Luffy chase after Jimbei again? since Fishmen Island till Wano, huh). You see the pattern? I gotta say Law fits 100% into it, lol.

This time though, Luffy doesn't ask Law directly himself. Would Law have it in him to blatantly refuse if he was asked directly to join instead of "assumed to be part of the crew"? Seeing how bad Law is at refusing Luffy anything much at all, even a stare or some attention, I'm thinking he would have a really hard time if Luffy put him in such position and Asked The Question To His Face.

Luffy doesn't do it though, not that we know of. Interesting, considering Luffy usually wouldn't hold back and chases after people relentlessly. Maybe he wants Law to be the one to declare it instead of putting him on the spot? He does respect him a crazy amount, after all. But damn, that would be a first time Luffy is holding back so much. Also, everything that happened post Sabaody? Actually happened because of Law's own intiative. He chose Luffy for the alliance, he saved his life in Marineford, he sticked with him in Dressrosa despite his plan getting trampled and stomped on multiple times, his steel resolve to die together with Luffy if he fails is impressive, he also waits for Luffy in Wano and doesn't betray him despite perfect circumenstances for it just before the raid. Law always chooses Luffy. I wouldn't be surprised if Luffy thinks Law will choose him yet again, to finally join him. He also happens to be probably one of the only people in whole OP world who chose Luffy over and over again instead of Luffy actively chasing after him, like he did with each of his current crewmates.

By the end of Wano Luffy will get his "biggest feast". Jimbei stays in the castle though instead of going to the town to celebrate with the rest, so his "joining the crew" drinking party is still postponed and didn't happen then either. He did drink after Egghead with everyone, but seems that's not the "right moment" yet. The anime ending of Egghead still shows the scene with 10 mugs, reminding us we're still waiting for continuation too.

Here's the clip of most of the scene of ditching the mugs, if you prefer it in more dynamic form. Sadly no subs. Please notice the scene rendition of Oden's stomping the ground and it sharing the sound with how Luffy puts down his mug. And how Luffy's singing gets interrupted by Kinemon's apology as Polar Tang presses forward. Kinemon there stands for Law, but Law would not apologize here haha. The same way Kinemon stands for Oden and Oden stands for Luffy, the scene renditions are "passing on" the inherited will forward. And who does Oden follow? Most likely Joyboy, Oden wanted to open the country to welcome him. In this scene multiple characters stand for Joyboy who isn't present himself, but he's everywhere, thanks to the characters following Oden's will. It's later emphasized when Yamato says he's been waiting for Luffy, but the underlined stomping in the scene suggests, yet again, that Yamato was waiting for Joyboy (the same way Oden was) and thought Luffy would be him. It's all in the subtext.

But, the first one to start this "passing on" in the raid, was Law, whether he's aware of it or not doesn't even seem to matter for the gears to turn. He also lifted up samurais in his Polar Tang at the very beginning, rescuing them in similar way to Oden: Law elevates them from the stormy waters, while Oden holds them above the pot in his execution.

Also artistically it's absolutely stunning scene and I just wanted to appreciate it again ❤

This marks the end of this part of the analysis. Will I manage to end Wano in the next one? Not sure tbh haha. Might take two more posts! Sorry for slower pace in updates, but this takes so much more work to do than just copy-pasting manga panels alone, eh. It's still fun though, I hope :)

[hallufabrication]

It's a small world

A fic about various things I wanted to write about instead of rambling about them; focuses on Manta and Hannah. The whole thing is under the cut.

Manta didn’t expect his and Hannah’s connection to fizzle out the way it did.

Not that he was expecting anything specific; She wasn’t someone he would really consider a friend. At the same time, though, he couldn’t deny that they weren’t exactly strangers, either. They hung out sometimes, she tried to help him during his illegal race against Corto, and they bonded over how great they thought Teach tech was – something that left a bitter taste in his mouth now.

He would have expected some kind of a lukewarm goodbye, or an awkward wave as they stepped onto the boats meant to take them to their homes. But as the boat steering towards the Solar Sea took off, there was no exchange between them - in fact, he wasn’t even anywhere nearby, instead preparing for his and Shino’s attempt at getting a better life for themselves.

He did think then if he should have approached her outburst the day before the way he did. Back then, he didn’t see it as anything more than a show of weakness; she wouldn’t have lasted a day in what he had to live through on Polaris. Why should she get sympathy for being a double-crosser? For only feeling bad now that it was too late anyway, now that Gavinda’s plan was in full swing?

But it wasn’t too late. Not to her and the Tikis, anyway. And she did her part in fighting against Teach…

Unlike him, at first.

No, Hannah wasn’t weak. After everything, Manta could tell that much.

Maybe he shouldn’t have underestimated how cruel Teach could have been to her. Maybe that shouldn’t have been his last words to her.

“Oh well. Too bad”, he thought, going back to packing his stuff. What’s done is done.

He hasn’t really thought about this, or anything related to the Mirages, for the next few months. He had more important things on his mind - building a new life from scratch with Shino (and Debbie) on an entirely new island was challenging enough to take away any time he could have had for reminiscing about his old acquaintances from the Whale Cup.

They weren’t on his mind these few months later, as he was walking through one of the lesser known alleys of Tortuga to his boat, either - at least not until he saw a familiar looking silhouette walking through one of the streets he’d usually pass.

“Hannah?” He called out instinctively, more out of surprise than anything else.

“Oh– hi, Manta.” She replied, turning around to face him. “Been a while, huh?”

“Yeah, but– What are you doing here?”

“On Tortuga? I came for the Rotor Punch, obviously.” She shrugged. “But, I wanted to see how you’re doing with my own two eyes while I’m here, too.”

“You heard of me?” He asked, squinting his eyes.

“Duh. It’d be harder to not hear of the famous White Tiger, honestly.” She said, leaning on the wall next to her. “You’re taking Aquagram by storm– You know that, right?”

He shrugged and made an indecipherable hum. Debbie did tell him that he was getting more popular day by day, but he never really got interested in how popular he was outside of Tortuga, exactly. His winning streak mattered to him more than whatever she was doing over on her hologlove.

“Wait, but– Rotor Punch? You’re competing?”

“What, you think I can’t handle it?”

“It’s just– I didn’t know if you’d still be racing after… Everything.”

Hannah frowned for a short second, but quickly smirked instead.

“It takes more than that to make me quit, you know. I managed to get into Solar Empire’s drone guard.”

She crossed her arms, still leaning on the wall.

“So, I’m the one representing the Empire this year.”

“Oh, wow. You got yourself a solid position, huh?” He said, walking over and sitting down on the stairs next to her. “How’d you even do that?”

“Eh, turns out getting to the finals of the Whale Cup was good enough of an achievement to sign up. Only had to climb a few ranks after that.”

“Pshf, sounds easy.” He teased. She only hummed in response.

“What about Adam? Is he participating with you?”

A slight grimace showed up on Hannah’s face. Manta wasn’t sure how to decipher what emotion it was supposed to show.

“...No, he’s not. He hasn’t reached out to me after Teach’s defeat.”

“Oh.” Manta said. “...Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Hannah sighed, sitting next to him on the stairs.

“...I haven’t tried to reach him, either. At first I thought I should, since Teach manipulated him, too, but… He was always more invested in her plans than I was. It seems like we both picked our sides.”

“...I see.”

“Yeah.”

A moment of silence fell upon them.

“And you’re…not worried?”

Hannah glared at him for a few seconds before deciding on an answer.

“I… don’t know. I have mixed feelings about it all.” She stated, resting her chin on her hand.

“Teach was cruel to him, too. She’s not going to suddenly do a 180. But, if that was his choice, then–”

She suddenly waved with the same hand in the air, leaning back.

“--so be it! I’m not going to chase after someone who made up their mind!”

She let out something between a groan and a sigh, hiding her face with her hands for a moment.

“...What’s it to you, anyway? I didn’t take you for the type to talk about this kinda stuff.”

Manta shrugged, looking somewhere else.

“You were the one who said it’s been a while.”

“Heh– yeah, that’s true.” She chuckled. “I guess it did a number on you.”

“Hmm.”

They sat for a moment in silence before Hannah stood up from the stairs.

“...Well, I should go. I take it you’re taking part in the Rotor Punch too, right?”

“Of course. Who do you take me for?”

“Yeah, thought so.” She smirked again, turning back to go about her way.

“I’ll see you around, then. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Psh, as if I’d need that. But yeah. See you around.” He replied, also getting up from the sidewalk.

As he got back to walking to his boat, he felt a sense of a relief he didn’t expect.

Turns out, he was sorta glad to see her again.

[cold-neon-ocean]

2, 9 for LOK?

✨ love your fandom ask game ✨ 

2. A headcanon you weren't sure about at first but have come to like!

Ooh this one is kinda tough~ I'm generally rather removed from the fandom at large so I actually don't really know of a lot of popular headcanons out there, let alone ones I initially didn't like and came to like~ I really only ever consumed content about Baatar and Kuvira as they're my favorites, and with them I'd either like a headcanon outright, or dislike it outright. I will say, at least in the limited fan content I've consumed, there is a common idea of Baatar having gone to university in Ba Sing Se for a period of time. I've seen at least 3 folks use that in their writings for him, and while it was never something I was "unsure" about, I didn't initially include the idea in my version of him. I don't know who penned that headcanon first but I was always hesitant about being seen as "copying" anyone lol. I do like the idea though, especially with my very codependent versions of Baatar and Kuvira, some time apart like that during their "good years" would be rather interesting, since they have been in each other's lives for most of their lives, Baatar choosing to go where Kuvira can't follow- even for a short period of time, I can see her holding against him for a little while. Especially with her preexisting abandonment issues.

9. A ship that isn't your OTP but you enjoy

Once again I'm pretty singularly invested in Baatar and Kuvira but there are definitely some canon and fan ships that I like! Canon wise I'll always have a soft spot for Bolin and Opal, just because they're cute and I like the potential dynamic it creates with Baatar specifically. A lot of it is pretty contingent on my rewrite versions, but what can I say, I'm a bit of a sucker for puppy love. Lyn and Kya was an early ship I'd see in the fandom that I always was like *Kermit nodding gif* ooh yeah I like that, and I've also seen Lyn and Bumi which I also really like, but I never really delved into fan works of either admittedly. I'll confess that lately the crack ship of Baatar and Zhu Li has been on my mind, but definitely not as a positive ship in any way, more like a mutually waged psychological warfare that they aren't even trying to hide from each other kind. I don't remember what sparked the idea- I'm not usually one for crack ships as I tend to be pretty single-ship through and through, but it's been a fun dynamic to think about, especially the kinds of conversations they'd have.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Alt Rock to the Rescue

[Inspired by this art]

"...Alright, I might have an idea," John Constantine, who was seemingly busy texting someone for the past ten - or twenty, no one really counted - minutes, puts his phone away and snaps his head up.

The room falls silent. Superman blinks in surprise, Diana frowns slightly, and Batman's mouth is pressed into a thin, stubborn line. Flash recovers first.

"You have an idea?" He huffs a short, disbelieving laugh, "No offense, but I'm not sure a magic trick can help us against, you know, an alien fleet." He gestures to one of the screens on the wall, where said fleet is approaching Earth on live.

The rest of the Leaguers present don't exactly agree with him, at least not verbally, but the mood in the room shifts from tense, anxious alarm to an almost palpable annoyance. To be honest, no one was even sure why or how John Constantine of all people ended up in the meeting. It's not like JLD could actually help with an ongoing, massive invasion that was about to happen in less than three- Correction, less than two and a half hours. Besides, it's John Constantine. The man that never shows up unless outright bullied into submission.

The magician winces briefly and starts rummaging through his pockets under the weight of everyone's attention.

"I said I might," he amends gruffly, getting a cigarette out of one of his pockets and sticking it in his mouth but not lighting it. Seems like it wasn't what he was looking for, though, because after that, the man keeps going through the various places on his coat, patting himself down. "I know someone who can deal with it. Granted, I already owe him a great deal, but he won't say no," he pauses and grimaces, "At least I hope he won't."

"I do not think it would be wise to call upon gods in our situation," Diana tries carefully, but John pays her little mind.

"Or demons," Green Arrow adds, crossing his arms on his chest, "I'm not selling my soul to get rid of some rocket ships or whatever they are."

Now, that makes the magician bark a laugh. Or, maybe it's the piece of lime green paper - a sticky note, actually - that he finally finds in the depths of his pockets.

"Oh, your soul's gonna stay where it is."

"Constantine-" Batman starts, but John cuts him off instantly.

"Mine will stay wherever it is as well," he reassures the man, "It's not that kind of entity." And with that, he promptly sets the green note on fire - green fire - and uses it as a lighter for his cigarette.

The next moment after the note is reduced to ash, there's a shift in the air in front of him, and, before any of the heroes have a split second to react, there are two people floating in the middle of the room, backs pressed to each other.

Two teenagers, to be exact. A girl and a boy, both of them so pale that their skin looks gray, and both dressed in grunge, like they just came from a rock concert. Yet, that's where the 'normal' parts of their looks end - the boy's hair is so white it looks blinding, and moves in the air slowly, undeterred by gravity, and the girl's hair is neon blue, her ponytail flickering up like a flaming torch.

The boy nearly topples over as the girl leans her back on him harder and kicks her feet up slightly. The movement is awkward, like both of them were taken by surprise by the sudden relocation, and maybe the guess about the rock concert was not so far from reality; there are drumsticks in the boy's hands, and the girl is holding an electric guitar in her hands.

"The fuck?.." The boy asks no one in particular, as the girl makes an annoyed groan and straightens up, still floating in the air. Her guitar makes an aborted sound. Meanwhile, the boy's eyes land on Constantine, and his whole face scrunches in disgust, "John, for the love of Ancients, I was in the middle of something."

The girl takes a look around while her friend is busy expressing his annoyance and elbows him in the side, "Oi, look, it's the whole Comic Con in the flesh here."

Green Arrow sputters. Flash makes a wordless but very offended sound. The floating boy looks around, taking stock of faces in the room, and the disgust on his face morphs into exasperation.

He turns back to Constantine, "Really? I thought I told you I want no part in your furry parade."

"Alien invasion," the magician decidedly doesn't address any of that, instead pointing his finger to the screen behind him. "Thought you ought to know," he adds, a bit of sarcasm bleeding into his tone.

"Ooh, is it my turn to be your world saving buddy, Phantom?" The girl perks up, turning around and draping herself over the boy's shoulders with a giddy laugh. Her guitar shifts to hang in the air on her side all by itself.

The boy - Phantom - rolls his eyes. Bright green, glowing eyes that definitely don't belong to a human being.

"If I had a nickel every time I had to save the world, I'd probably be able to buy myself my own guitar," he grumbles and looks back to Constantine. "Do I, like, have to? Right now? You know, I don't get paid for this bullshit, and the studio we rented for rehearsal has an hourly rate, so if we can postpone this for about an hour and a half, that'd be real nice."

"The fleet is only two hours away from Earth," Batman supplies suddenly, and, when both floating kids turn to look at him, adds, "I can pay for your next rehearsal. Or a few of them." Evidently, Phantom's comment about nickels struck a nerve. Or, maybe, the man just likes throwing money at any teenager he encounters. Who knows.

The boy blinks, taken aback by the proposition. But the girl grins, sharp and wicked, and shoves her drummer - if the drumsticks are to tell - in the side again.

"Hey, free studio. Better than the last time."

That snaps Phantom out of his stupor, and he groans, "Don't remind me." With a weary sigh, he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in the air, almost like reclining on it. "Okay, fine, sure. Do you want them, like, away from Earth- um, this is Earth, right?" He turns to Superman, surprisingly, looking for confirmation, and the man nods, thrown off guard. The boy nods back and continues, "Or you want them blasted into oblivion, or what?"

"Whatever suits your mood, kid," John waves his hand at the screen as if making a welcoming gesture, "But all the aliens gotta go."

Unexpectedly, that makes the girl's grin even wider, and she reaches for her guitar, floating around Phantom and looking him in the face. The look she gives him speaks of mischief, and the boy seems to understand what she's implying before she as much as opens her mouth.

"Ember, no," he pounts a drumstick at her.

"Ember, yes," she wiggles her eyebrows, "Come on, your wail is boring as fuck as it is, why not spice it up?"

"I'm not wailing," Phantom scrunches his nose, "My throat will hurt for weeks."

Ember runs her fingers over the strings of her guitar, and it makes a comparatively quiet, vibrating sound. A few cords shoot out of the bottom of her instrument, like ones used to plug an electric guitar to an amp. She raises her eyebrows, still looking at Phantom, a silent conversation between them.

Then, the boy huffs and rolls his eyes, twirling a drumstick in his fingers.

"Fine."

The cords fly at him like snakes, aiming at his neck. None of the Leaguers watching the encounter get to say even a word as the metal pins insert themselves into the boy's neck, acting like some twisted kind of collar. Phantom doesn't even flinch.

Ember's guitar, on the other hand, reacts to the connection quite violently: it makes a high-pitched sound all on its own and then changes color from black and blue to white and green, with lightning bolts instead of flames for design. The girl's ponytail flares up higher as she softly murmurs in delight.

Then, she turns to the people around them and smirks, "Which way is the evil alien fleet?"

Flash wordlessly points his finger to the right and up. The girl nods in satisfaction, turning in the air so her guitar is facing that way.

"You might want to cover your ears," Phantom advises, a sly smile on his face and a glimmer of anticipation to his eyes. John Constantine follows that direction immediately, and, taking his move as the best course of action, the other heroes follow as well. Except Batman, who only narrows his eyes and looks at both teens in the air apprehensively. Phantom shrugs, "Or don't, I don't hold any responsibility for your shattered eardrums."

"Pick up where we left off, then," Ember tells him, and the boy blinks:

"Wait, I thought you'd just-"

[For some wholesome experience, put your headphones in and listen to 'KULT' by Jisaiah, grandson, and Steve Aoki]

But the girl has already started a tune, nodding her head to the rhythm of it and slowly picking up the pace. Phantom huffs, but doesn't protest any further, floating up as much as the cords allow him and spinning a drumstick in his hand.

"Maybe I should join a cult

At least they'll tell me it's not my fault

That the world's a fucking circus

That my life feels fucking worthless," he spits the words out with a sneer, slowly rotating in the air until he is hanging upside down. His eyes are closed, and his voice becomes more and more staticky with every new sound. The volume of Ember's guitar gets up, higher and higher, until the walls and the floor of the room around them start to vibrate.

Then, Ember's voice joins Phantom's, and the boy brings his drumsticks down on thin air, mimicking the moves. Only, even with the actual drums not there, the air around him ripples like they are, and they all can hear the beat.

"Maybe I should join a cult

At least they'll tell me it's not my fault

When it all comes crashing down

We'll see who's laughing," both kids pause, just for a beat, and Ember uses that split second to spin the volume knob to the max before strumming her guitar in one wide, sharp move.

"NOW!"

The sound wave is not only palpable, it's visible. A wave of toxic green ripples through the air, knocking everyone present - sans the two kids in the air - to the ground, and goes beyond. The screens on the walls flicker and turn off, sending sparks in the air, and the comms give off loud, screeching noises, and-

The following silence feels almost deafening.

Batman, unsurprisingly, is the first one to stand back on his feet and see a few of the screens come back online.

Just in time to see that same green wave of... sound? energy? power?.. decimate the entire fleet like a wet cloth over a chalkboard. One moment, the spaceships were there, and the next they are gone, wiped out of existence.

Ember laughs, leaning back and almost doing a backflip in the air.

"That was nice, dipshit!" She shoves Phantom in the shoulder, and the boy snorts, plucking the cords out of his skin and grinning.

"Yeah," he agrees with a smile, not even looking at the screens around, "Maybe we should try rehearsing in space next time. Sing to the stars and all that crap."

"Sing to the stars?" Ember raises her eyebrows mockingly as the rest of the heroes scramble to their feet, bemoaning their ringing ears. "Na-ah," she clicks her tongue and turns to Batman, "You still up for paying for our studio?"

The man just grunts in a semblance of affirmation.

"Sweet," the girl grins and offers Phantom a hand for a high five, which he returns instantly. "Cheers to the world being saved once again!"

The boy just rolls his eyes and turns to Constantine, "Next time, be a dear and text me before summoning, or I'm going to sell your soul to Morpheus, and who knows what he'll do with you."

John Constantine grimaces. "I did," he offers grudgingly.

But both unearthly teenagers are already gone without a trace.

[Edit: I want everyone to know there's ART now!!!]

[Edit 2: There's more art!!!]

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[ozzgin]

It is the 19th century and you are returning home by ship. Before you embark, you happen to find a glowing shell abandoned by the docks. It seems that the sea creatures are searching for it. Or maybe it's something else they're interested in. content: gender neutral reader, violence, dubious consent, based on Return of the Obra Dinn

January 1802 What's the matter with me, I wonder? As if my luggage wasn't heavy enough already, I had to drag around a big shell of sorts. Found it by the docks while I waited for my ship to arrive. It has a strange glow to it, this shell. Can't quite place it.

January 1802 Cheeky bastards! The seamen are such a flirt. From the moment I stepped onto the main deck, a handful of them haven't dropped the whistles and stares. One of the topmen - I recall he's Scottish? - he's been pestering me about the ship. "I'll show ye around, can't find a better guide," he says. His mates laugh and clap to his petty attempts.

February 1802 Some of the sailors are dying from lung illness. I was on the orlop deck, playing cards with the three Russians, when the surgeon rushed to one of the cabins ahead. "If it was contagious, we'd all have it by now. Damned if I know what it is, or where it comes from," I could hear him groan. I wondered out loud if I might catch it myself, but then I noticed one of 'em rascals trying to cheat the cards. February 1802 I saw it again tonight. Ever since we launched from Falmouth, as soon as the sun sets, there's an eerie glimmer in the distance. It reminds me of this damned shell. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Oh, the sea is so terrifying in the dark. There's nothing but black stretching all around. My window is low; whenever the waves break against it, the wooden walls let out a groan that awakens me from the deepest slumber. Surgeon gave me pills to sleep. The creaks of the ship sound like a weeping maiden. February 1802 I think the cursed glow is getting closer. I couldn't sleep anymore, so I snuck onto the main deck. Scotsman found me wandering towards the bow, so he quietly hoisted me up by the waist. I thought he'd tell the Captain, but he sat me on the lower rigging, next to him, and we listened to the waves. I was afraid I'd fall off, but he kept a steady hand on me. I wish I could tell him about the light stalking our ship. Would he think I'm mad?

February 1802 Second Mate returned today on a small boat. We heard shouts coming from upstairs, so we rushed to see what was happening. Bosun had his pistol readied next to the Captain, and the sailors lifted the cargo from below. I thought I was dreaming at first. Some creatures, unholy beings, were caught in the net. They had the body of a human, but thick, fish tails covered in spikes. One of the Formosan passengers muttered something in Chinese, and some of the tail spikes suddenly pierced him dead. The old Miss next to me fainted on the spot, and the stewards urged us to leave. Right before I turned, I noticed one of the beasts pointing at me. It had a monstrous grin on its face. Oh, what a sight! The Scotsman guided me away, but I can't forget those eyes. Was it malice? Such an intense stare, burning straight into my soul. Now that I'm writing all this, a memory has come to mind: the creature had the same shell as mine, dangling from its neck.

February 1802 The pills no longer work. I can't rest anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I hear its wretched voice, calling me from the lazarette. That's where they locked those sea monsters. It sings nonsense, blasphemous lies. We're not fated soulmates. I've nothing to do with those devils. I should've never picked up the shell. I can only pray we reach land soon.

March 1802 God, oh God, what disaster has befallen us? I don't have much time. The gun deck is in shambles, more than half the crew dead. Underwater beasts have crawled their way up our ship; strange humans with spears, saddled on top of crabs larger than I've ever seen. The poor midshipman, oh, a young boy! He set himself on fire to stop the nightmarish fiend. Threw the lamp across the floor, and the flames swallowed both of them up. I scrambled up on the main deck, but there was no peace to be found; colossal tentacles sprawled around the ship, pulling the rigging apart, tearing humans like insects. The Captain's wife was struck by a falling pillar, I saw her crumble right before me. Scotsman is still alive, but his arm is missing a good chunk of it. I don't know where to find the surgeon.

March 1803 They left. They took the last boat, I only found out this morning. I tried to join them, but one of the sailors stopped me. "Witch," he shouted at me, "the beast down by the cargo hold screams your name. You must've called it here, brought this curse upon us." I don't know what he's talking about. Tonight I'm going to the lazarette, I can no longer bear the calling. This blasted fiend, oh, he's ruined me. I'll rot on this wreck. Mother, I don't think I'll ever reach the shore.

Your steps are hesitant as you tiptoe your way around the dried blood and debris, until you reach the locked chambers. The door is bent and folded away, as if hit by a great force. You do indeed notice the round prints against the rusty surface: giant suckers from a blasphemous being.

There he is, the wicked varmint who plagues your sleep! A pale creature is propped up, halfway out of the water, welcoming you with a toothy grin. The shell around his neck glows mockingly.

You throw your own shell at him. The small, ivory object rolls with a hollow thud.

"Is this what you wanted, damned monster?"

"Why, what am I to do with two?"

His voice is harsh and deep, rapping against your eardrums, scratching the inside of your head.

"I've been waiting for you. Can't leave this place without my beloved, can I?"

"There you go again with this nonsense. Villain! Drown me if you must, but spare me your deceit."

His smile falters, eyes narrowing in a frown.

"Is that how you find my love? Some petty lie told by a charlatan? Ungrateful brat, who do you think freed you from their shackles? Who do you suspect has summoned the leviathan, from the deepest trenches of the sea, to save your mortal soul?"

"The kraken left with the storm," you counter as the blood drains from your face. Could it be that you were to blame, after all?

"No, it left after the bargain."

He pulls himself up and sits on the edge of his former cage. You observe his features in mild awe: the texture of his skin, the dark locks of hair reaching all the way to the tail, the spikes breaking out of the thick, hard scales.

"What bargain," you ask fearfully.

"The last ones are free to escape, if they leave you to me."

Why, your horrified expression is not quite something he expected. Surely one must feel relief once their freedom has been guaranteed. And not just any kind of freedom - you've been returned to your soulmate.

He's spent weeks chasing the currents, trailing the faint glow in the distance. He hasn't stopped once, tail pushing forward to the promise of a reunion.

Yet, you seem unsure. Perhaps his approach has been too hurried, too nonchalant. You need a little bit of convincing, and he happens to be a master of courting.

His thorax suddenly expands, and you can almost hear the twisting sound of his ribs cracking and breaking under the pressure. A sweet voice rolls out of his mouth, a song you've never heard before. Your heart pounds tremendously, threatening to burst out of your chest, and a foreign panic floods your senses.

Despite your desire to flee, your lids are heavy, eyes slowly closing. Through your lashes, you can discern the beast crawling towards you, the same defiant grin plastered on his face.

It's time for you to come home.

[nefastnefertiti]

WHY CHAPTER 431 OF MY HERO ACADEMIA SCREAMS CENSORSHIP

First let's start by the "afterword", the note Horikoshi left after 430 and before the extras, chapter 431.

Original japanese for those who understand.

The best traslation I found and most people are agreeing with.

Key sentences are:

1.The real final chapter is 429, 430 is more like a curtain call.

2. PS: For chapter 431, I turn off the cameras and free the characters from their dramas.

This note being left after 430 and before the extras is so important. . The clarification of "the real final chapter is 429" and 430 is the curtain call is screaming: the show has ended here. This is further stated by "i turn the cameras off" by the man who use to refer himself as the camera man, I leave you with an example.

(They're talking about Vol 37 cover)

And back to point number 2: "and free the characters from their dramas", which could perfectly be understood as "the characters are no longer tied to their previous plots and drama" no longer connected to the main story.

It may seem like a reach until here, we're just trying to convince ourselves that's not canon, right? They´re delusions, right?

The problem is how far away everything about 431 antagonizes the whole story, the characters doesn't feel like themselves, they even regress back all their development, the drawing style looks totally different and there are many irregularities that call for our attention.

Dabi, 431 and by Horikoshi

Toga and Ochaco in 431:

Toga and Ochaco by Horikoshi:

All Might's signature for Katsuki (Horikoshi would never mess this up):

Kirishima with 6 fingers lol, Horikoshi loves drawing hands, he would never.

Katsuki's odd teeth what the fuck. (His hand looks good to me)

Ochaco and Shoto just look, weird. It's clearly not Horikoshi's art style.

And this awful background (center) was the main giveaway.

Horikoshi's backgrounds are so professional:

At this point I'm getting tired since the difference is astounding, don't believe me, just check the manga.

I don't think Horikoshi would've allowed those mistakes had he have a role in the making, maybe he did, there's no saying about that, but clearly if he did his involvement was very low.

Character's development wise now.

Seriously? "Deku"? And Katsuki complaining for picking him up. He cried his eyes out when Izuku lost his quirk and now he's back at season 1?

Izuku would never in a million years turn down that offer. And if he did, it would never be like this, so devoid of emotion and empathy.

430 showed us an Izuku aiming for his dreams again and at 431 this Izuku ¿? It's okay with being a teacher? Ok. And if that's not the problem, why he outright rejects Katsuki out of nowhere? When their rivalry was one of the main points of the plots for 430 chapters and now just um over? Without justification? Ok.

Ok.

Now specifically about that ship canonization and bkdk.

Horikoshi has been doing this for 10 years. The choices he took the whole manga were incredibly intentional, all those romantic tropes given to bkdk, his interviews, all stand in direct opposition to what happened in this last chapter.

I, myself, don't know much about Jump but what I've heard is they end lot of shonens with the same heterosexual formula. I don't think all of this is a coincidence.

Something really important that needs to be adressed to is what happened back in June (I think), when suddenly MHA announced it was ending in 5 chapters could've something to do with this. The manga was suddenly rushed to its ends with unsatisfying resolutions and as if that was not enough, one month later (at most) the same happened to JJK and all of this came accompanied by a switch of one of the heads of Jump.

About 431 again though.

I was just thinking what would I do if I was pressured to write something that ruins the biggest project of my life and goes against everything I was hoping for? Refuse. Tell them to write it themselves. If I can't do anything to stop it and it'll be there, alright, but I WON'T DO IT.

And I think this could be Horikoshi's case.

I've never seen a shonen manga come so close to implying his male protagonist and his male deuteragonist are in love before. Yes, it was not EXPLICIT but it was so fucking clear if you knew how to read, all the way up to 430. All those cliches tropes he gave them, he knew, we know.

I thought I'll die trying to explaineverything that seems wrong with this with nothing to back me up but the fact that he added that note is clear for me. I'm surprised they allowed him to publish it, I thought we wouldn't even have that.

PS:

It's interesting this being posted the same day 431 comes out. Also "heroaca is pretty dark, huh?"

I'll not go into this anyways because it's kind of a reach but the conclusion is: I think it's a "soft" censorship and Horikoshi did his best to relay his message given what he had.

Thanks for reading!

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Burns Like Rum

Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav

Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.

Word Count: 7,840 words

Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet

18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock

Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.

The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.

He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.

It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.

But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.

You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.

"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.

Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.

And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.

You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.

"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.

"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.

"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"

You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.

"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"

Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."

She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."

You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."

You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.

It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.

The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.

She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.

"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."

"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.

She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.

You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"

"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.

But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"

"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."

Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.

Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.

He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.

You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."

From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."

He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."

"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.

"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."

You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."

"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.

You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.

Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"

"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.

Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"

"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.

He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.

"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable

"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."

He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.

"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.

Astarion sighed. "...Night."

~❊~

You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.

You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.

"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.

"Stop what?"

"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.

Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"

"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."

You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"

Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."

You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"

"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."

You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.

His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.

"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."

"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"

Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.

"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.

Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.

"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"

"I could go for a little," you said.

Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.

You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.

He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.

"You're starving, aren't you?"

"You have no idea," he whispered.

"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."

Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"

You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."

His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"

A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.

Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."

"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.

He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."

~❊~

Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.

You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.

You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."

Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.

He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.

A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"

You nodded. "Just a bit."

Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."

You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.

"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.

He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.

"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"

Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."

Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.

"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.

"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.

You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.

It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.

Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"

You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.

The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.

"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.

You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.

Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"

You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."

"Are you ready?"

You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.

Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.

One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"

"Please do," you said.

"Arms up."

He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.

"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.

"Yes, dear?"

You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."

He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.

"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.

You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.

"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.

You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"

"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."

Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.

Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.

The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.

"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"

You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.

Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.

Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.

He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.

Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.

Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.

"Look at you," he whispered.

The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.

He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.

He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.

You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.

"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."

You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.

You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.

"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.

He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.

"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.

He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.

"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."

Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.

He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.

You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.

Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.

Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"

"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.

He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."

He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.

You smiled. "There's more where that came from."

Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.

You nodded. "I can take a few more."

He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."

You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."

The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."

He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.

Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.

He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.

"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.

You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."

The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."

You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."

He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."

You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"

Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.

"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.

Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.

You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.

You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.

"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.

He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.

Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.

Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.

The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.

Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.

You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.

But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.

He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"

You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.

"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."

He snorted. "Excuse you!"

"It's all over your face!"

He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."

Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."

He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.

"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.

"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"

Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."

You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.

"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.

You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"

The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.

"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."

He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."

You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.

His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.

His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."

You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."

Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.

"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."

He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.

You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.

When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."

You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."

You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."

He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."

Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.

You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.

He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"

~❊~

You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.

Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.

Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.

You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.

You were wrong.

Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.

"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.

"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"

You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"

She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"

"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."

She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."

You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.

You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.

Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"

You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"

"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"

You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."

Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.

"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.

Astarion smirked.

"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."

He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.

Karlach squeaked.

"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."

"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."

You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"

Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.

A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.

"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.

You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."

Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"

Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"

"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."

"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."

☞ ❊ ☜

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin

part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}

[yeahxsurexokay13]

ideal weekend, lando norris

summary: while fans stress about the fact that, following their breakup, the actress won't be there to witness the driver's first ever f1 win, y/n gets asked about her ideal weekend off in an interview and accidentally manifests it [actress!reader]

warnings: i think only very bad editing (i tried) and me bringing up yet another footballer i feel affection for for literally no reason

fc: madelyn cline

started this as something completely different from what it ended up being but i think i like it. i'd love it if you let me know what you think tho (((:

y/n.y/l

📍miami

Liked by rudeth and 1.059.326 others

y/n.y/l yet another victim of a @/maxverstappen1 win. had so much fun but i think i'll just stick to acting 🙃🙃🫠 thank you @/redbullracing for having me!!! <333

view all 2.071 comments

username at a red bull event? what happened to once a mclaren girl always a mclaren girl????

username this event was basically work for her ?? you ppl need to stop taking everything so personally omg

username professional SUPER FAST driver, part time actress ❤️ by author

username you're in miami the same week of the miami gp. coincidence? i think not 😌😌

username GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL

redbullracing Glad you had fun Y/n! Maybe we should start considering you for a guest appearance in our garage 😉

mclaren Thanks for the offer, Red Bull! But we've already got dibs on her 😉

username UM I HOPE THIS ISN'T A JOKE ??

username don't play with me like this admin!!

mclaren Don't worry. We won't hold this against you 🧡

y/n.y/l ily guys 🧡🧡🧡

username Ok cool now go finish season 4

username Why are u in Miami shouldn’t u be filming obx 4 😪

y/n.y/l side quest

username not the Y/n x F1 content I was hoping for but at this point I'll take what I can get

maxverstappen1 Next time I'll give you a head start. Enjoyed having you with us, Y/n 🫶

y/n.y/l there will definitely not be a next time but thanks tho!!!👍🏼 always a pleasure seeing you ❤️

username pretty 🩷

username Why is Max literally this🧍🏼‍♂️❤️ by author

landonorris Um what's this?

y/n.y/l 😶 not what it looks like

username seeing you two banter like this makes my heart ache 💔

username i'm never moving on from y/nlando sigh

username OBX S4 WHEN QUEEN

29 April 2024

mclaren added to their story

y/n.y/l

Liked by maxfewtrell and 1.890.345 others

y/n.y/l me and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER lando norris

view all 3.830 comments

username JUST WHEN I THOUGHT TODAY COULDN'T GET ANY BETTER OMFG

username formula 1 race winner lando norris has a nice ring to it 😉 ❤️ by author

username What a race, and what a win for Lando!!!

username IM LOSING IT YALL I JUST CHECKED OUT OF CURIOSITY AND BRIGHTON ALSO WON TODAY Y/N MANIFESTED HER IDEAL SUNDAY

username minus the relaxing part lol i know for a fact bestie was stressing in that garage

carlossainz55 It's great to see you back at a race! Missed having you around! ❤️

y/n.y/l thank you carlitos ❤️ wish i could've got to see you up there with lando

charles_leclerc ouch ? 🫤

y/n.y/l noooo, i didn't mean you!!! x

maxverstappen1 ouch?

y/n.y/l i did mean you. sorry /:

username are we back in 2022 and i didn't realise?????? not complaining at all tho

mclaren You and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris look amazing! 🧡 ❤️ by author

username admin definitely ships

username children of divorce rise !!!!!!! ❤️ by author

username u think u're so funny liking this @.y/n.y/n but we're actually hurting we want our mum back!!!

username seeing you celebrate with lando was everything 🥹🥹🥹

username when i tell you i sCREAMED !!!!!!

username Everything in the world has been healed due to this post

oscarpiastri Awesome that you could come watch. Missed you ❤️

y/n.y/l missed you more pastry boy ❤️❤️

username we were robbed from this friendship !!!😪

username can't believe how emotional I am seeing you two together at his big win

francisca.cgomes ❤️❤️❤️ ❤️ by author

username just realised i am not as over y/nlando as i thought i was. in fact i am not over y/nlando at all.

username well seeing you with FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris just hit me right in the feels💔

landonorris Thanks for being there to share the moment with us ❤️ ❤️ by author

landonorris Also I think after this you might now have to come to every race ever

y/n.y/l clearing my schedule as we speak 🫡

username i am so ready to be delusional

05 May 2024

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.

hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.

I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.

"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.

like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.

and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."

and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.

(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)

this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?

my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.

I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.

if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:

[zarnzarn]

TW: jumping on the manwhore au but aftermath, discussion of S/A, read carefully.

Three weeks pass.

Odysseus is carried through them with ecstasy and joy, reuniting and grieving and laughing and rearranging.

But then everything settles down, and-

It was him who'd ordered it. Ordered owls to be carved into every free inch of Ithaka, coveted shipments of the secretive birds for his personal menagerie, sold trinkets in the market. Made no secret of who favoured them, when he had half the houses painted blue.

But now every step he takes in his own home haunts him.

He cannot so much as look to the side before feeling the urge to flinch away, shame growing inside of him until it chokes him up. Cannot look at any owls. Cannot look at any of his men.

("Well, if our captain can't think his way out of it, at least now we know talking filthy works just as well!" One of the men chortles, unaware of how Odysseus' blood had run cold, standing with his hand raised to knock.)

("This day, you've lost it all, consider this as my goodbye-")

("Come on, she's a beautiful, powerful lady! How bad could it really have been, Captain?")

("Captain?" Eurylochus whispers, as Odysseus wipes the blood off his mouth and reaches for his cloak. The ships are silent, even though the roar of the waves has left. Eyes stare at him from all directions, wide and-

Pitying? Horrified? Odysseus can't really tell.

"Full speed ahead," He says, voice ruined, and keeps his chin high as he hobbles back to his room.)

(When the sirens come, all he sees is Penelope. It is nice, at least, to know that he can discard the intrusive thoughts creeping in about natural reactions and forced pleasures.)

("Please- please don't do this, don't make me choose, I'll do anything-")

("Leave me the fuck alone, both of you. If Penelope does not take me back after all of this, it's her choice. But I have to get all of us off this island and it's better me than you.")

"Ody- Your Majesty!" Odysseus reaches into his robes, pulls out the whittling tool and the wood, busies himself as he walks. It's one of the younger men, the ones who'd barely been boys when they left. "Listen, we were wondering if- if you'd come join us at the festival! The- all of the men, really, we've been- heh- missing you since we now have to share you with the rest of the kingdom. We could- we could sing together? Like we used to?"

Athena's prayers.

"You go ahead," Odysseus murmurs, eyes on the carving. "Next time."

"But you didn't come for the last one either!"

"I have-" He hears his own sharp tone, stops and swallows to soften it. He was terrible to all of them, he knows, those last few days aboard the ship, rude and sharp and brutal like all the other royals, where he never was before. "I have work to do. Have a good day. I've heard the new hound stock is coming in today, you should see if you want a pet."

He ignores whatever is said in response, walking on. He wonders, darkly, what they think of him. Do they still think he enjoyed it? That it was a privilege to be had by gods?

("He won't speak to us!" One of them hiss that night, when the lad comes back sniffling and downcast, like all the others. They'd grown up with Odysseus, almost like younger brothers, and all of the younger ones were taking the sudden frigid silence hard. They all were. Somewhere they had lost their friend, left him behind without noticing, until only their king returned. "He cannot possibly think we think less of him for sacrificing so much, for- the gods are impossible to hold up against, he can't think we blame him for-"

"We don't know what he thinks," Polites says, pulling his head out of his hands and wrapping his arms around himself. "He doesn't even look at us."

The men around the fire are all silent.

"He has to know, right?" Someone whispers. "He has to.")

"What did happen on the trip back?" Penelope says, voice quiet, sitting next to him. He jolts. When did he reach their bedroom? "Something did. You have barely touched me since that first day."

Odysseus opens his mouth, but for the first time, he has nothing to say. What can he? She had known, the first second he had turned his eyes from her in shame, and yanked him back in anyway with eyes blazing like a lion, growling that she didn't care what he had to do to come back, as long as he had.

Odysseus doesn't feel like he has.

Penelope carefully takes the whittling knife away from him, as well as the spear he'd carved. "And you have not prayed, after your return."

(He had tried. Had walked right upto the temple steps when everyone was asleep, and then turned around and thrown up in a bush.)

"Have you heard the story of the high priestess Medusa?" He murmurs, staring at the wall. Watches the shadows dancing across. "Athena used to tell me about her. One of her favourite devotees. I never understood why she cursed her, when it was not her fault."

Penelope puts a hand on his shoulder. Both of them are shaking. She has seen the scars, the ones that glow beautiful and bright, left behind by each god who touched him.

"A gorgon, snake-woman, capable of turning anyone she looked upon to stone, gods and humans alike. No eyes upon her, ever again."

The breeze blows in.

"At the time, I thought it to be a curse." He whispers. Remembers the story of the way she had screamed in the temple bower for Athena's help, insane, at the feeling he knows now is violation of self and celibacy both; Athena's chosen, ripped away from one of their ways of worship by force. "Now I know it was a blessing."

"But-" Penelope swallows. "Perseus-"

"Was a mercy." He looks at the ground. "She was pregnant. She did not wish to be. Athena granted her so."

"The shield is to honor her," Penelope murmurs. "Not a trophy."

He hums.

"I-" Penelope starts, voice thick. "I remember when you asked. When we first got married. If I was fine with not being joined with you in bed often, as long as I was satisfied. Was it-?"

"Only her priestesses can have true celibacy, her devotees less, me lesser. I had a crown to continue, so Athena accepted a more lenient vow, when I became her student." He stares out at the sea, the sky. "But I had vowed. I had sworn." A half-sob escapes him, some delayed noise of grief. It feels far away now, and the scars have all healed, but he cannot move past the violation, the stares, the whispers. The shame of betrayal. "I had an oath, Penelope."

"It was not your fault," Penelope whispers, taking his hand like he will shatter like glass. "Poseidon seems to target all of Athena's people. If anything-"

"We fought," He says, turning his head to press his face to her shoulder, shuddering as he confesses it. Abandoned by his own god. "She left. Maybe this is her punishment, all the eyes, all the time. Paranoid that another Olympian will jump out of the shadows, do it again."

"Or," Penelope says after a long pause. "She does not know. Only one way to truly find out."

Odysseus considers.

"Could you," He swallows, throat clicking. "Could you get me- the things from my shrine?"

-

He does not expect her to actually arrive.

He shakes in front of her, for the first time, feeling small and foolish and broken. Wishes he could go back to being twelve, do it all over correctly. "Lady Athena," He says, as formally as he can. "I beg your forgiveness. Please- please, is there anything I can do to-"

"About time," She interrupts, bored. "Finally willing to concede that I was right?"

Odysseus feels bile rise in his throat. "Yes, goddess. I was- stupid, to ever consider otherwise."

Penelope's hand is clenched tight in his robes, kneeling with him.

"Good," Athena says, pleased. "A war well won, all things considered. Our glory will go down in the history books." A pause. "Why are you on the floor?"

"What?" He chokes out.

"You've never kneeled to me once, even when I've taken you out at the ankles, you impudent brat," She snorts. Odysseus feels his pounding heart freeze in his chest at the- fondness in her voice. Fondness. She is not furious with him, not unforgiving. "What, do you want something else-"

She knocks him on the head, flicking him on the forehead playfully- then freezes as he looks up at her. Goes completely still, and he knows she can see what they did to him.

Penelope's hand reaches out to steady him.

"Only your forgiveness, goddess," His voice breaks. "Only that."

-

After, Penelope holds him, crying silently herself as she wipes at his cheeks. Athena sits with her head in her hands, helmet removed, anger finally under control but completely silent. Just sits there at the edge of their bed, bent over, face buried in her own palms.

Finally, she straightens, inhaling. Turns to look at him. "You may not be alive to see it," She tells him, quiet and furious. "But this is their last transgression, I swear to you. I will find a way to get revenge. They will die."

"I do not-"

"They will die. And no vows have been broken." She hesitates, hand hovering over his ankle. Odysseus crumbles, nodding desperately, and nearly passes out at the relief of the familiar touch, sharp and cleansing, godly and unlike the chaos of all the others. "You need not apologise to me about that."

He sniffs, turning his face into Penelope's shoulder. It feels freeing, some latent relief that Athena finally sees him, understands, forgives. She is not the terrifying goddess so far removed, cold and cruel, that he was starting to think she truly might be; bowed over in grief and horror for him, like a friend- he just wishes this was not the reason why.

Her eyes are gold at the edges. Crying. Nauseated almost, at the fact that- her uncle. Her father.

"Would you-" Odysseus wheezes. His heart hurts still, for their fight, for what happened after, for how hard he knows she will take it. "Can you-"

"Anything, champion," She says softly, strained. Gives him a half-smile. "My friend."

"The wings-" He whispers, feeling stupid, but-

"Slow," Penelope murmurs, reaching out to steady Athena as she climbs in close. Her voice is wrecked. She does not say anything more.

Owl wings fold around him, not white or blue or pink, patterned and brown like the mud; home. Home.

"No one will see you," Athena murmurs, and her voice is wretched, but caring. "No one can see you. Peace."

"Peace," Odysseus repeats, and leans into them both, letting the darkness shroud around them like an embrace. Peace.

Home.

[annievrse]

happy new year!

roronoa zoro x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: watching explosions of colour in the sky on the night the year changes from old to new… but something else is changing too. c/w: so extremely self-ship coded, she/her, no use of y/n, ‘pretty girl’ aka zoro’s fave pet name for fem!reader, one sex joke, alcohol a/n: happy new year!! i started writing this in september but never posted it, so i changed the occasion and speedran to finish it so it would be ready for nye. i hope you guys enjoy it!! see y’all next year ;)

“Here, let me—“

“Wha—?” Zoro ducks away when he sees your hands nearing his collarbones, his palms covering the sides of his neck. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not gonna tickle you, you freak,” tilting your head in annoyance, you sigh, hand falling to your sides. “Your collar’s messed up.”

“Oh,” Zoro stands up straight and steps toward you, shoving his chest in your face. You go to step away but are pulled closer to him when Zoro grips your hips and grunts in irritation. A giggle bubbles in the back of your throat. “You don’t need to go that far away to fix it.”

Rolling your eyes, you raise your arms again and pull at the fabric to right it. Zoro’s breaths are heavy and warm against your forehead, and you refrain from peering up at him, knowing what will happen if you do. Your fingers knock his earrings gently, and the sound, combined with the silence, makes a shiver go down Zoro's spine.

The girl's quarters of the ship are quiet, unlike the boy's quarters, which are overly rambunctious at all times of the day. The perfect hideaway for the pair of you while the rest of your crew gets ready for the explosion of colours in the sky. A fleeting moment of peace and privacy amid the usual chaos of the strawhats.

You stand like this for a while. His collar has long been fixed, yet your hands remain firm on his collarbones, smoothing the fabric. You’ve forced him into his only suit, one that strains against his broad biceps and deliciously thick thighs.

Zoro exhales deeply and drops a kiss on your hair, his fingers dancing on your spine, the backless dress doing wonders for your figure.

"We should hurry up," He mumbles against your scalp, making no moves to do so. "Who knows what those idiots are up to."

You laugh breathlessly and nod, shrugging one shoulder hopelessly. "Surely, they'll be fine without us for once."

Zoro hums in disagreement but dips his head down, nudging your nose with his. "Doubt it."

You roll your eyes and press your mouth against his. Zoro inhales sharply and squeezes your sides, lifting you up against him.

"Anything you want tonight, I—"

"—they're down here having sex!"

You jump away from your boyfriend, accidentally biting his bottom lip when the wooden door slams against the wall. Your eyebrows furrow at the familiar yell of your captain, your mind still hazy.

"Literally what, moron?" You don't even see Zoro's mood shift; his face has already morphed into his usual scowl before you can comprehend what's happening.

"Fuck," Zoro mumbles as an afterthought, his thumb coming up to wipe the dot of blood collecting on his lip. He throws you a heated glance, and you try to ignore the connotations behind his look in front of your captain.

Luffy stands in the doorway proudly, sporting a suit jacket and his usual denim shorts, his scar on full display. "No wonder they're not helping!"

You feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment as your mind finally catches up to what he initially claimed. "Luffy—"

"Luffy, get out! No boys allowed in the girl's quarters!" Nami's voice echoes down the hall, and the younger boy's mouth opens to respond. But before he can, Nami stands beside him and eyes you and Zoro wearily.

Her shimmering green mini dress reflects the warm glow of the lamp in the corner, and she looks as dazzling as she always does.

"Get upstairs! You need to move the dining table," Nami barks at Zoro, who rolls his eyes and leaves you standing there, shoulder-checking Luffy as he passes.

“Can’t that damn cook do it?” He mumbles as he walks through the doorway, sending you a transient glance of annoyance—not at you, never at you. You smile warmly, ignoring the glare Nami gives you.

"Go!" Nami snaps at Luffy, who salutes and stretches his arm down the hall. And from the strangled yelp that follows, you know he's grabbed Zoro by the throat. Nami kicks Luffy's shin, and he cackles before shortening his arm and flying to meet Zoro wherever he stands.

"And as for you," Nami points at you. "Robin and I are sitting in the Crow’s Nest. C’mon.”

—

With a glass of something sparkling in your hand, you lean back and watch the stars twinkle. The island a few hundred metres away is alive with rambunctious laughter and squeals of joy, and the music that echos across the water makes you eager to dance.

“If you want to leave,” Robin side-eyes you, ever the observer. “You can.”

You shake your head, a small laugh falling from your lips. “It’s fine. I’m sure he’s having fun with the boys.”

“You know he’s not,” Nami quips, sipping from her glass. “He’s probably in a corner, sulking with his sake.”

The image in your head of Zoro doing so is not an unusual one, but it makes you giggle nonetheless. “I don’t want to ditch you guys; the show is about to start.”

Nami flicks her wrist. “We don’t want you here.”

Robin rolls her lips between her teeth, a telltale sign that she’s a little intoxicated. “Yeah, go to the back of the ship; I’ve heard there’s something waiting for you.”

“Guys,” You sigh, butterflies swarming your stomach.

“Go!” Nami almost yells, her cheeks pink. “He made us do all this for you anyway.”

Robin slaps the navigator’s shoulder and laughs, and you know she’s trying to keep her composure. She says your name softly and nods. “He’s waiting.”

You twist your lips and place your drink on the wooden floor. “Thank you.”

They brush you off and urge you to leave, both grinning wide with sparkles in their eyes.

The trip down the ladder is a shaky one, thanks to the sparkling wine the girls had been feeding you. Your hands may be steady, but your heart thunders loudly in your ears.

When your feet hit the deck, you see Luffy and the crew laughing on the grass, their backs to you and attention on nothing but the drinks in their hands and the anticipation of the incoming celebration.

You follow Robin’s instructions and make your way to the back of the ship, your footfalls quiet. Peering around the corner, you see familiar green hair.

Zoro paces back and forth, whispering things far too quiet for you to hear from here. You take the opportunity to sneak up behind him.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

You sigh with exasperation, though there’s no irritation in your tone. “Seriously?”

Zoro smiles; a real smile that reaches his eyes despite one of them being permanently closed. You grin back, forever grateful that he chooses to present himself in such a way to you—he’s utterly and irrevocably beautiful.

He shrugs, reaching for your waist before pulling you into him. “I always know where you are.”

You shove your face into his neck, cheeks warming at his admission. “You’re weird.”

Zoro scoffs, the action vibrating through his chest. “Yeah, okay. You’re the one who says she loves me so… who’s the weird one now?”

You peer up at him, eyes wide with adoration. “Still you.”

All he does is hum and drop his lips to your forehead. “Guess I am considering I love you more.”

“Hey!” You giggle, pulling your face back. Zoro’s dark iris is obscured by his blown out pupil, and the tender look in his eye makes you shiver. You sigh after calming down. “Why’d you wanna meet out here?”

He tilts his head. “Thought it’d be a good spot to watch those things in the sky… you know, since you’ve been talking about them so much.”

There’s something he’s not telling you, but his intention is enough to make your heart flutter tenfold.

“And, I, uh—”

“It’s starting!”

You ignore the yells from your captain and focus on Zoro, who is trying to formulate what he wants to say. He averts his eye when you give him a look that tells him to keep going.

Bang!

You jump in surprise at the explosion behind you, but the urge to turn and watch doesn’t cross your mind, not when Zoro is before you.

He looks up, and you can see the reflection of the pink sparkles lighting up the sky in his eye.

You nudge him. “What do you wanna say?”

He lets out a breathy, nervous laugh, and looks at your hairline. His fingers move quickly to brush away the stray hairs that got swept out of place by the breeze.

“It’s nothing, just that I—”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

This time, Zoro startles. He blinks into the night once more, and blues and greens reflect off the glassiness of his eye.

“Zo.”

His attention returns to you, and you squeeze his clammy hand.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Zoro’s inhale is sharp as he nods, cheeks blooming with a pink hue.

“I love you,” He says, swallowing thickly. The cheers and laughter of your crew fade into nothing, and the explosions of colour in the night don’t dare deter you from the light expression on Zoro’s face.

“You know I’m bad at this shit,” He grumbles, brushing a pretend eyelash from your cheekbone. “Words.”

You laugh softly. “I won’t disagree, but you know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.”

You wait patiently for him to continue, and the joy around you is nothing compared to what you feel inside.

“I, uh,” He finally says, digging his hand in his pocket. Your heart starts racing before you can even fathom what’s happening. “I found this on an island a few years back.”

From his slacks, Zoro pulls out a gold ring. Its intricate diamonds and elegant design cause your breath to catch in your throat, and you feel your bottom lip start to quiver. He grips the metal a little too tight between his fingertips and it catches the orange hue of the fizzing lights.

“It’s not an engagement ring, or whatever Nami keeps telling me to get you, but a promise ring.”

Your chest aches and tears blur your vision as your shaky fingers hover in the small space between you. Zoro’s own trembling hands slide the ring onto your ring finger, and it’s a perfect fit.

“A promise that no matter what happens to us, to our crew, I will always be with you. You’ve got me for as long as you want me. There’s nobody else I wanna do this shit with.”

There’s an unspoken vow—every broken part, every scar, every piece of him that’s been lost along the way of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman, it’s yours.

“Zoro…”

His hands cover your cheeks and he smiles. You blink away your tears, choking out a laugh of pure happiness. Zoro’s palms smooth down your hair and return to your cheeks before he leans in close.

“Don’t get mushy on me,” He whispers, breath hot on your lips. You giggle as his thumbs wipe away the wetness under your eyes. “You’re the one thing in this world I’m not willing to lose, alright? I’ll fight for you, protect you, be there when you need me—whatever.”

His words are quiet, almost lost in the moment, but the weight of them hangs between you—real, undeniable, and from the deepest depths of his soul.

“You mean to world to me.”

You sniffle and lean forward to capture his lips with yours. His wraps his strong arms around you and pulls you into him. He kisses you like it’s the last time, but that reality is far from where you stand now.

“I love you,” You whisper against his mouth. It doesn’t feel like much after he’s poured his soul out to you, but Zoro doesn’t need it. He already knows, from the way your eyes shine and your heart pounds relentlessly against his chest, that you feel the same. He always knows.

“Did he do it?”

Zoro groans into your mouth but refuses to pull away. The crew gathers on the deck behind you, all snickering but with hearts full of warmth for their crew mates.

When you lean back, Zoro chases, and the world fades back in. The whole crew stands there, shaking with anticipation before Luffy breaks first, flinging himself at you. He wraps his arms around you and Zoro multiple times, squeezing you together as the rest of the crew, all eight of them, rush to embrace you too.

The salty air and the dying bursts of coloured light make the night feel like a transition; one that marks the end of another year, and the start of a new, exciting embodiment of raw commitment.

And in the midst of the group hug, Zoro finds your lips again. All that matters is the quiet weight of the promise he’s just made, and the ring on your finger that shines, not in the warm light of the hanging lanterns, but with the love and respect it’s been holding for years, waiting for this moment.

[aventurineswife]

A touched starved reader who craves to experience physical intimacy with their partner/s but is too anxious to do so. How would their partner help them get more comfortable and deal with it? (Aventurine, Kazuha, Lumine, Dan heng, Veritas, and Kaveh together)

Touch Without Fear

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Kazuha x Reader, Lumine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Ratio x Reader x Kaveh, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Emotional Vulnerability Gentle Reassurance, Touch-Starved Reader, Established Relationships (in some cases).

Warnings: Mild themes of anxiety and insecurity, Discussions of fear of intimacy and vulnerability, Reader's struggles with physical touch and emotional closeness, Safe, consensual exploration of boundaries and comfort zones.

Aventurine leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room, the weight of his thoughts hidden behind his ever-present smile. He had noticed the way you seemed to recoil whenever he brushed against you, the way you flinched at the slightest touch, as though something inside you held you back from embracing the intimacy he so naturally offered. You, the one who had always been so close, so real to him in ways no one else could comprehend—yet you were distant in a way he couldn't quite reach.

His hands tapped against the edge of his desk as he mulled over how best to approach you. Despite his reputation for manipulation, he understood your hesitation wasn't something to be bent to his will or simply willed away. It was a deep-seated fear, something that perhaps even your own mind couldn't fully articulate.

One evening, when the two of you found yourselves alone, his voice broke the silence. "You know," he said softly, though his tone remained laced with an amusement that masked his true feelings, "I've always been intrigued by how people manage their fears. Some run from them, others face them head-on. But you…" He paused, catching your eye. "You play it safe, don't you? Not that I blame you. But I wonder… what might happen if you just let go, just once?"

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your gaze darting away. He could see the anxiety flicker in your eyes, but he didn’t press. Instead, he moved closer, his footsteps soundless on the polished floor, and placed a hand just barely on your shoulder, lingering for a moment before pulling back. "I'm not asking for you to let me in," he murmured, his words soft and patient. "I'm not asking for anything. I’m only offering you a chance to feel safe. To touch… without fear."

His presence was warm, inviting, and you could sense his sincerity beneath the layers of charm. His voice continued, this time quieter, more intimate. "Intimacy is not something you must rush. It's an experience, one to savor and trust. If you'd let me, I'd show you that there’s no pressure, no rush... just us, exploring at your pace." He held his breath, watching you closely for any sign of resistance or acceptance.

You hesitated, but this time, when his hand found your shoulder again, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you allowed him to gently guide your hand into his. His smile softened, genuine and warm. “One step at a time,” he whispered, “And if you ever feel overwhelmed, you only need to say so.”

With his guidance, he helped you confront your fears, his presence reassuring as he let you dictate the pace, giving you the space to explore the world of intimacy without the pressure of needing to be anything more than what you already were—together.

[Header credits]

Kazuha sat on the edge of the wooden railing, the gentle swaying of the ship beneath him mimicking the rhythm of his calm thoughts. The wind tousled his hair, and he took a deep breath, savoring the moment of peace. However, despite the tranquil setting, his mind kept returning to you. The way you looked at him, longing to be close, but always holding back, as if the desire for physical closeness was a yearning you couldn’t fully embrace.

It wasn’t as though you didn’t trust him. He knew that much. But there was something within you—a hesitance, a fear—that kept you from taking the leap. And Kazuha, ever the observant and gentle soul, noticed the way you would shy away from his hand when it lingered too long on your arm, how your heart rate quickened when he ventured too close. He knew it wasn’t that you didn’t want him—it was just that your own fears had built walls that were hard to climb.

One evening, as the crew settled down for a rare moment of rest, Kazuha approached you. His footsteps were quiet, deliberate, as he sat beside you, his presence like the calm after a storm. He didn’t force the issue or demand answers. Instead, his voice was soft, his words like the breeze that whispered through the trees. “You know,” he began, “there’s no rush. You don’t have to be in a hurry to figure everything out. Sometimes, the most beautiful things unfold naturally, in their own time.”

You turned your eyes to him, your shoulders tense. He could feel the hesitation in your movements, but he didn’t push you. Instead, he offered a gentle smile. “It’s okay to want closeness. But it’s also okay to take small steps. Let’s start with something simple. If you want, I can teach you how to be at peace with it, slowly. No expectations.”

Kazuha held out his hand, palm open, a simple gesture of invitation. He didn’t try to overwhelm you with grand promises of intimacy—he simply offered the quiet comfort of his touch, the warmth of a hand willing to wait. “There’s no pressure,” he reassured. “Only trust, and time.”

His fingers lightly brushed against yours, a fleeting touch, as though testing the waters. When you didn’t pull away, he gently intertwined his hand with yours, his thumb brushing along the back of your hand in small, comforting circles. His smile remained calm and patient, showing you that closeness didn’t have to be rushed, that intimacy could be built upon slow, steady moments of connection.

Through his tender approach, Kazuha helped you realize that it wasn’t the touch that you feared—it was the vulnerability. And with him, that vulnerability was met with nothing but warmth and patience. He would wait for as long as you needed, guiding you back to yourself, helping you rediscover the comfort in shared closeness, one gentle step at a time.

[Header credits]

Lumine had always been an enigma to you—a quiet, steady force, often hiding her true emotions behind a calm, collected demeanor. But you noticed, as your journey together continued, that there were times when she seemed to hesitate, just like you, when it came to expressing something more than friendship. Whether it was a hand resting too close, or a gaze lingering a bit too long, there was an unspoken tension between you, and yet, neither of you made a move. You, with your fears of intimacy, and she, with her quiet strength that belied her own uncertainties.

It was one evening, as the two of you found a quiet place by the river, that Lumine chose to address it. She had sensed your discomfort, the way you tensed when her hand brushed against yours or when you found yourself in close proximity. Rather than push or pull away, she simply sat beside you, her presence as calming as the cool breeze that drifted across the water.

"You seem... anxious," she said quietly, her voice soft but carrying the weight of understanding. She didn’t look at you directly at first, giving you space to process her words. “I can tell you want something more, but there's hesitation... something that holds you back.”

You felt a pang of embarrassment, unsure of how to respond, but she turned to you then, her eyes gentle. "It's okay," she reassured, her voice a soft whisper. "I understand. I’ve seen the way you long for closeness, but don’t know how to reach for it."

Her hand slowly reached out, hovering in front of you, as if giving you the choice. “If you want, we can take it slow. No rush. I don’t want to push you, but I also want you to know that you don’t have to be afraid. It’s okay to want more... and it’s okay to be unsure. I’m not going anywhere.”

There was a deep sincerity in her words, an openness that allowed you to feel safe in your vulnerability. Slowly, you reached out, your fingers brushing against hers. And as her hand gently closed around yours, Lumine offered a small, understanding smile. She didn’t need to say more. Her actions spoke volumes, reassuring you that this connection, this closeness, didn’t have to be rushed or forced. You didn’t have to be ready right now—what mattered was that you felt safe enough to start, with her by your side.

Lumine, too, was learning the rhythm of intimacy with you. And just like the ebb and flow of the tides, you knew that it would come, in its own time, when you were both ready to embrace it fully. Until then, she would stand by you, patiently guiding you toward the peace that came with letting go.

It had been a long day aboard the Astral Express, filled with turbulent space storms and stressful situations, but Dan Heng still found his thoughts drifting to you. He had noticed the subtle way you avoided close physical contact, the way your body tensed whenever he was near. He understood that the weight of unspoken things could make it difficult to open up. He never pushed you—he could see the discomfort written on your face each time you hesitated, pulling away from even the smallest gestures of affection.

But tonight, he had decided, was different.

The night sky through the window was peaceful, the stars softly glowing. Dan Heng found you sitting alone, eyes downcast, a little too quiet even for you. He stood by the doorway, just watching for a moment, before his soft voice broke the silence.

“You don’t have to be alone,” he said gently, his tone uncharacteristically warm. He had seen the way you ached for touch, but he also saw how nervous you were, how uncertain. It hurt him, but he had no intention of pushing you.

You looked up at him, and he slowly crossed the room, each step deliberate and cautious. When he reached you, he didn’t immediately reach for you; instead, he knelt down before you, lowering his gaze to meet yours.

“I can wait. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured you. His hand hovered just inches from your own, waiting for your reaction. He wasn’t rushing. He wasn’t going to force anything.

You nodded, unsure, but desperate for the connection. Slowly, your fingers brushed his, and that was all it took. Dan Heng gave a small, knowing smile, his touch soft and steady as it slid into yours. He wasn’t someone who liked to speak about emotions, but in that quiet moment, his presence was more than words could say.

He didn’t pull away. He didn’t demand more. He simply stayed with you, offering the comfort of his quiet, constant companionship. The warmth of his hand in yours felt like the safe harbor you so desperately needed.

“Whenever you’re ready, we can take the next step,” he murmured. “There’s no need to rush. Just… let me be here.”

And so, together in the quiet, you began to understand that intimacy, true intimacy, was not something to be feared—it was something to be built slowly, carefully, and with trust. And Dan Heng was willing to help you take that step, at your pace.

Kaveh had noticed the way you flinched at even the slightest touch—how your hands pulled back when he reached for you, how your eyes darted away from the warmth of a hug, the soft intimacy that others might take for granted. It made his heart ache for you, but he knew better than to push. He had always believed that love was something to be nurtured with care, not rushed or demanded.

“I’m here, you know,” Kaveh murmured, sitting beside you, his voice full of understanding. His hand reached out, hovering in the air as if seeking permission. “You don’t have to be afraid to want this. I won’t rush you.”

Ratio, always the more analytical of the two, observed the scene from a distance, his eyes watching intently. He wasn’t one for unnecessary displays of affection, but he understood that your need for physical intimacy went beyond mere desire—it was a longing for reassurance. He too had seen how you yearned for closeness but were too scared to take that first step.

Ratio’s voice broke into the silence. “You fear being vulnerable. It’s understandable, but you must understand this: vulnerability is strength, not weakness.” His words were sharp, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity to them, a rare softness that only you could see. “We won’t judge you. We’re both here for you, and we’ll take our time. No expectations.”

Kaveh, always the compassionate one, leaned closer, his hand gently resting on yours. “I know it’s hard,” he said with a small, affectionate smile. “But you’re not alone in this. I promise you. We’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”

Your heart raced, but instead of pulling away, you allowed yourself to lean into the warmth of Kaveh’s presence. You felt the soothing calm of Ratio’s understanding gaze, and it eased the tension that had been building in your chest.

Kaveh’s hand slid gently into yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Whenever you’re ready to take the next step, I’ll be here. We’ll all be here.”

Ratio added, his voice softer than usual, “Intimacy doesn’t need to be rushed, nor should it be forced. It’s something to be discovered at your own pace.”

With them by your side, you felt a small glimmer of hope. You didn’t have to move faster than you were comfortable with. With Kaveh’s patience and Ratio’s calming wisdom, you could begin to find a way to embrace that longing for touch, piece by piece, with the understanding that you weren’t alone in it.

The two of them, each in their own way, showed you that intimacy wasn’t a race. It was a journey, and with them, you could take it at your own pace, in your own time.

[froggiewrites]

May I request some Luffy smut? Maybe including some aphrodisiac of some kind or influence from a devil fruit- I don't mind! I'd just love to see your ideas

I am SO sorry this has taken so long, thank you to everyone who's sent in requests for being so patient. Life has been kicking my ass this month so badly I haven't even been able to read any fanfic, let alone write it. Fingers crossed that the end of November is kinder than the beginning!

I'm really excited to have finally finished this request, I'm a big sucker for sex pollen/aphrodisiac stuff so this was really fun for me! Also, this was my first time writing for Luffy, so I hope I did him justice!

Need

Pairing: Luffy x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You find your Captain in dire need of a little help. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't provide? Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac, Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Vaginal Sex Word Count: 1.8k

You should have known something was wrong when the ship was quiet. The Thousand Sunny is never quiet. There’s always the sound of clashing metal, of excited voices, of a song dancing its way across the deck. But you don’t hear a single noise outside of your door, nor do you see anyone as you pad your way outside. 

You knew that you were docking soon, that your crew would leave to explore the island, but you didn’t expect them to leave without waking you up. You had been on night watch last night, so you certainly needed the rest, but you’re not used to them not at least momentarily waking you to let you know where everyone’s going.

Your surprise and confusion only grows as you hear someone crashing through the brush, and you see your Captain emerge, sprinting precariously toward the ship as though he’s being chased.

“Luffy?”

He doesn’t answer as he continues to rush forward, launching himself up onto the Sunny. Luffy stumbles onto the deck, teetering dangerously towards the railing. Before you can rush to catch him, his back hits the wood, and he lowers himself to the ground, legs splayed out. You can’t even tell if he can see you until he murmurs your name. He’s dripping with sweat, his face red.

You kneel down between his legs, leaning forward to try to get a good look at him. You can’t see any visible injuries, but clearly something is horribly wrong. “Are you okay, Luff?”

“No.” His voice is nothing but a whine, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Need…something.”

“Something?”

Luffy glances around, pout on his face. “Something. Dunno what.”

You reach out to rest your hand on his forehead, which is burning so hot you almost pull it back in shock. He leans into your touch, giving off a soft hum. “You have a fever. Do you know what happened to you?”

“Nothing happened. We were all exploring, and we split into groups, and then…hm…I ate that fruit Zoro picked.”

Oh god. Zoro’s not exactly a botanist, or a survivalist, and for a single moment you believe with every fiber of your being that your dear friend has accidentally poisoned your captain. “What kind of fruit was it?”

“I dunno. It was sweet. And red.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t narrow it down at all. God, you would think that eating one mystery fruit in your life would be enough for you.”

His indignation beats out his discomfort for just a moment. “The first one went really well.”

You guess you can’t argue with that. “Can you remember anything else about it? We can rule out any devil fruit since you haven’t…exploded.”

“It was warm. And it made me wanna come find you.”

That makes you pause. “It…made you want to find me? Like specifically me?”

“Yeah.”

You have a bad feeling about this. “Do you know why you wanted me?”

He squints in concentration. “To…make it better.”

“How?”

He grabs your hand and places it back on his face. The sound he makes is borderline erotic. “Like this. This helps.”

The warmth against your hand, the moan that escapes your captain, the tent you can see growing in his pants, it all starts painting a very troubling picture. A very tempting one, but troubling nonetheless. “Luffy, are you warm anywhere in particular?”

“My stomach. And lower.” He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around you and burying his face in your neck. His nose nuzzles against you, and he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and sighing. His hands gently massage against your hips, reveling in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You’re soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing lightly against you. You clench your thighs involuntarily, a move you hope he doesn’t notice.

“You’re—ahh!” One of his hands moves up to your breast, squeezing your breast through your shirt, and he moans again at your squeak. “You’re not in your right mind, Luffy! I think that fruit was—ah!” His hand slides beneath your shirt, then your bra, and finally he pinches your nipple. 

“Come closer.” His voice is thick as he pulls you onto his lap. “I think this is fixing it. Feels nice.” He jerks his hips, and you can feel his hardness rub against you. You try to keep your moan inside of your mouth, but when you do, he huffs, and ruts into you harder.

“Luffy!”

He grins. “That’s better.” As his hand begins to slide down the front of your pants you finally come to your senses and grab it, stopping him in his tracks. He blinks at you, a little clarity coming back to his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You–you’re clearly under the influence of something, and I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want–”

“I want it.” The hand slides slowly down further. His voice grows hungrier, more desperate. “I need it.”

With the way he’s looking at you, pupils blown out and cheeks flushed, you believe him.

“Well if you really need it, I’d hate to deprive you, Captain.”

He grins, and before you know it, you’re pinned to the deck, your shirt and bra removed, Luffy’s teeth pressing insistently against your chest. He shoves his hand unceremoniously between your legs, making a small noise of satisfaction against you when you squeal. His fingers slide against your clothed clit, sending a shiver up your spine and slowly building the heat in your gut. He hums quietly, “It’s wet.” He looks up at you. “For me?”

You flush, before nodding quickly. You can’t bring yourself to look at him out of fear you’ll combust. You can see the sweat sliding down the muscles in his arms and chest, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he pants. He looks even better than you’d ever dreamed, his eyes radiating a hunger than you never expected to be directed at you.

He quickly slides down your pants and underwear in a single motion, and in your surprise you press your thighs together, shielding yourself from him. He practically growls, “Stop that. Wanna taste.”

He pries your thighs apart, diving into you with the same enthusiasm he does everything else. His tongue laps at you with reckless abandon as he sloppily takes everything you’ll give him. His hands pull you impossibly closer, his nose brushing against your clit as his mouth explores. When you moan, he laughs against you, the rumble of it spreading across your sensitive skin and making your thighs tense around his head. You worry you’ll suffocate him, drown him, but he doesn’t seem to mind losing to you.

You can feel the tension building in your body, your legs shaking as you come closer and closer to your peak. Your hands grip the grass beneath you, one second away from ripping it out of the deck entirely. Some part of you is hyper aware of the fact you are out in the open, where anybody could see or hear, but the rest of you is lost in the pleasure of the moment, in the feeling of your Captain’s tongue against you. So you don’t try to stop your back from arching as your climax grows nearer, nor do you make any attempt to hold back your cry as you cum on your Captain’s face.

He pulls away from you, his face dripping, his pupils blown out, and his lips upturned into a dazed smile. You can’t bring yourself to look away as he slowly licks his lips, savoring every drop of you. Without a word, his mouth crashes into yours, and you can taste yourself on his lips. His hands roughly force down his pants, exposing his weeping cock to the cold air. He lets out a borderline whimper of relief against your lips, before pulling back just long enough to whisper, “Get ready.”

“Lu–ah!” He thrusts into you in one smooth stroke as his lips once again insistently press against yours, stealing your breath away. You can feel every inch of him as your body welcomes him in, clenching around his length. He moans into your mouth, the sound deep and wanton. He gives both of you little time to adjust before his hips are rocking, chasing the release he’s been so desperate for. He’s moving so quickly you’re surprised he was patient enough to even wait this long. His hands are borderline bruising on your hips, his teeth clacking against yours as your kiss grows rougher and rougher, as your dear friend and Captain pounds into you with the fervor of an animal in heat. 

You can feel his muscles tense under your fingers as you pull him tighter. His breaths grow more ragged with every moment, and as he finally pulls away from your kiss you get to see the beautiful sight of the dam breaking as Luffy finally cums. His face is filled with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and affection as he gives a final few thrusts, your own climax coming not soon after. He collapses on top of you, and the weight is more comforting than crushing, though it steals your breath away anyway.

“I was right.” His voice is sleepy and slow, and you can’t help but picture the faces of your friends as they find you stripped bare and pinned to the deck below your Captain. Sanji might have a breakdown.

“Right about what?”

“I needed you. You fixed it.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your head affectionately, and he places a comically loud smooch on your forehead.

“So you’re all cured?”

“Ye–” He hums, and you can see an idea take him as his face scrunches up and his eyes shift away. “No. I think we’ll need to do this again.”

You can’t keep the smile out of your voice as you respond. “Oh yeah? How many more times, do you think?”

“I dunno. A lot. It could take a while.”

You laugh. “You know, I think we can do this as many times as it takes.”

He lets out an overjoyed laugh. “Awesome!”

“But first we should get inside before anyone else gets back. I don’t really want them to see me like this.”

He nods, quickly scooping you up and carrying you in the direction of his cabin. Before you can say anything else, you hear the voices of your crew coming closer, and you quietly urge him to rush.

You only get a moment of relief before you hear Zoro’s confused voice.

“Whose clothes are these?”

Your panic is quickly overshadowed by Luffy’s booming laugh rumbling through his chest, spreading the same infectious joy that he always does. The embarrassment is worth it, just to hear such a wonderful sound.

Tag List:  @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[rennalaqotfm]

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (PART I)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Swearing and a lot of 'fucking politicking,' as King Viserys said.

WC: 3.9k

Series Masterlist

(A/N at the end of the chapter)

The cold castle of Dragonstone stirred back to life in the early evening as the Black Council was hastily reunited after receiving news from an unknown sender, most likely one of Lady Mysaria's informants. The hall was silent as the members of the council cocked their brows in confusion.

"An alliance with the Triarchy?" Rhaenyra Targaryen shook her head in disbelief.

Daemon took the message from her, not believing what she had just said. He tossed the piece of parchment on the table, letting everyone have a look.

"An alliance with the Free Cities is a risk, but a necessary one nonetheless. Their hold on power currently hinges heavily on Vhagar. Aemond knows that the city will be defenceless once Vhagar leaves King's Landing and we could easily overtake it. That is when the Triarchy will come in, to break the blockade of the Gullet," Daemon said, adding a ship figurine to the Table Map.

"We should have enough ships—" Lord Corlys said.

"Forgive me, Lord Corlys, but I do not think they will be enough. The Triarchy can muster a much larger naval power than any house in Westeros, including House Velaryon." 

"Are you underestimating my fleet, my King Consort?" Lord Corlys said through his teeth.

"I am just being realistic. It is not just the Triarchy we might end up encountering," Daemon countered, adding two more ship figurines to the Table Map. "The Greens know that we will solely be relying on the Velaryon fleet, and with enough luck, we would be able to defend ourselves against the Triarchy. Which is why they would also want to send Hightower and Lannister fleets."

"We would be outnumbered," Rhaenyra muttered. 

Daemon shook his head as his eyes scanned the map, realising that the Greens had managed to amass a larger number of allies, from the Crownlands, all the way to the Westerlands. He raised a brow in a particular spot in the South, a place the Targaryens haven't been able to tame after centuries of their rule.  

"Not if we make an alliance with the Dornishmen," he finally said.

After a brief moment of silence, everyone in the Black Council but Daemon erupted in laughter. 

"I don't know which is worse, the Greens making an alliance with the Triarchy or us with those goatfuckers," Ulf laughed. 

"Have we no other choice?" Rhaenyra muttered, staring at the map. "The Hightower and Lannister navies would need to sail around Dorne before reaching the blockade, after all."

"My Queen, you cannot possibly be considering this," Jacaerys stepped forward. "We cannot make a deal with those barbarians. Our houses have been at each other's throats for generations... What makes you think that they would want to help us? There is a reason why the Greens would rather turn to the Triarchy instead of House Martell."

"The Prince is right, my Queen," Lord Corlys said. "We do not know how those Dornishmen operate, where their loyalties lie. What if they withdraw their support after making a deal, or demand more than we agreed upon? I should not be reminding you of this, my Queen, but the Dornishmen... Well, they are known for being unpredictable. They might even end up switching sides and joining the Greens."

"That will not be happening, Lord Corlys. After all, the Greens are still Targaryens. At present, the Dornishmen have a neutral stance. They do not wish to partake in this war—"

"Because they're just watching everything from afar and placing bets on who's gonna win," Ulf sniggered, earning a glare from Rhaenyra.

"As I was saying, they do not wish to partake in this war," Rhaenyra paused, watching as Daemon picked up another ship figurine and placed it strategically in front of the Hightower and Lannister ships. "But if we manage to convince them to join us, then we could eliminate the Triarchy and block the Summer Sea, preventing the Lannister and Hightower fleets from crossing it."

"Convince them to join us? How are we going to do that?" Lord Corlys shook his head, growing irritated as Rhaenyra seemed to have decided to carry on with the plan. "This is another reason why Aemond has not even bothered negotiating with those barbarians in the first place. Those Dornishmen—House Martell... they would not easily accept any deal. They are too proud. And in this case, we need them more than they need us. We cannot show our desperation or else they will bleed us out—"

"But we are growing desperate, Lord Corlys, and we are running out of options," Rhaenyra raised her voice, causing everyone in the Council to flinch. "The Velaryon fleet alone does not stand a chance against all of them." 

"This is absolutely—" Lord Corlys burst out, clenching his fists as he tried to hold his ire.

"Making a deal with them would be the hardest part, but I am certain they would be satisfied if we offered them a dragon," Daemon suggested. "Ulf, how do you feel about flying to Sunspear with Silverwing and spending the rest of your days with those... goatfuckers?" 

"I don't really have a choice do I?" He grimaced. "But it wouldn't be all too bad, I s'ppose. I've yet to taste a beautiful Dornishwoman and—"

"Looks like it is sorted," Daemon waved his hand, cutting him off. 

"Send a raven to Sunspear," Rhaenyra ordered Maester Gerardys.

"My Queen, please listen to me," Jacaerys raised his voice, catching everybody's attention. "This risk that we are taking is completely unnecessary. We do not even know whether the Greens would be sending the Hightower and Lannister fleets. If they do not, then we would have wasted our time in trying to reason with those savages. Besides, how would that make us look? To think that you are even considering trading Silverwing for a handful of ships..."

The Black Council grew quiet, letting Jacearys' words hang in the air, and they hummed in agreement.

"Listen, boy," Daemon cut him off. "Aemond just burned Sharp Point out of anger. Do you think he is the type to hold back? He is going to want to strike with everything he has, and House Lannister and Hightower would not want to miss a single chance to appease him."

"But House Martell—?" Jacaerys snapped.

"It will not just be House Martell, Jacaerys. If we somehow manage to convince them, then other Dornish houses will follow. Think about House Allyrion, Blackmont, Dayne..." Rhaenyra tried to reason with her son. "Maester Gerardys, send a raven to Sunspear. Now. We have no time to spare." 

The room was filled with exasperation. Some were nodding their heads, murmuring and pointing at the map, whilst others shook their heads yet kept their mouths shut nonetheless. The maester himself began to hesitate as he began to write the message:

To the Honourable Prince Qoren Martell of Sunspear,

In these dire times, as the fleets of the Triarchy, Hightower, and Lannister press upon us, Her Grace, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, seeks the aid of House Martell to join forces with our Velaryon allies at sea. In return for your assistance, we offer the protection of our dragon, Silverwing, as a symbol of our alliance and mutual respect. We acknowledge the history between our houses, but now, unity is essential more than ever. We hope to set aside past tensions and forge a partnership that will benefit both our realms.

From Maester Gerardys, in service to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

To Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,

House Martell has long stood apart from the conflicts of the rest of the realm, and we see no benefit in entangling our house in this war. Our independence is our strength, and we will not risk it, even for the promise of a dragon. Dorne will continue to walk its own path.

Prince Qoren Martell of Sunspear.

Three weeks have already passed, only to receive a cold rejection from the Martells. Their enemies were already making their move, as according to one of Lady Mysaria's informants within the Red Keep, the Green Council had agreed to send Tyland Lannister as an envoy and were soon going to start preparing the ship for the lengthy journey to the Free Cities. 

After reading the message, Rhaenyra scoffed and threw the note in the fireplace, watching as the paper shrivelled into ashes. The Council needn't ask what the Martells had replied since the indignation from the rejection was written all over her face. 

"I told you they were too proud, my Queen. Making a deal with those savages... it was never going to work," Lord Corlys said.

"Do not give up so easily Lord Corlys. That just meant our deal was not good enough," Daemon said.

"You cannot be serious. They have already refused to help, even with the promise of a dragon," Jacaerys snapped. Baela placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

"What else could they possibly want?" Rhaenyra inhaled deeply as she closed her eyes.

Daemon paced back and forth as his eyes wandered on everyone present in the hall. 

"Maester Gerardys, remind us again of the children Prince Qoren has sired,"  Daemon asked.

"Don't name the bastards, though. We'd be stuck 'ere forever," Ulf joked, only to be met by an awkward silence and glares from those in the council.

"His eldest is a daughter of two-and-twenty, Princess Y/n Martell; Prince Elyas Martell, of nine-and-ten; and Prince Farien Martell, of seven, my King Consort," Maester Gerardys said.

"And is Princess Y/n betrothed?" Daemon asked.

"Not that I am aware of, my King Consort."

"It seems that securing an heir is not her main priority," Rhaenyra muttered. "I wonder why she remains unwed..."

"Well, with the number of bastards Prince Qoren has sired, they would never run out of heirs," Lord Corlys muttered under his breath. 

"I do not know, my Queen. I am not entirely familiar with Dornish customs, but I have heard that Prince Qoren has yet to find a suitable match for his daughter," Maester Gerardys said.

"If I may speak, my Queen," Addam bowed his head, waiting for Rhaenyra's nod of approval. "Some of the men who've sailed in Dornish waters have shared stories about why Princess Y/n Martell remains unwed. It's not that Prince Qoren hasn't found a suitable match for his daughter; rather, many of those suitors have met... untimely ends. Their bodies have been discovered in the desert, feasted upon by scorpions. Of course, I can't say how much of this is true and how much is mere sailor's tale."

"Fuckin' hell..." Ulf exclaimed in amusement at Addam's story. "Hopefully that princess was worth dying for."

The Council grimaced, their prejudice somehow convincing them that everything they'd just heard was true. Jacaerys was starting to grow uneasy, feeling Daemon's gaze piercing his as Addam of Hull told the story. He didn't like where the conversation was going, and even if he knew what Daemon was going to say, he still wasn't prepared to hear those words.

"We present Jacaerys as a suitor for Prince Qoren's daughter," Daemon declared, silencing the council.

"No. No. Absolutely not," Jacaerys clenched his fists, his voice trembling with anger as he shook his head furiously. "I am to wed Princess Baela," his gaze darted to Rhaenyra, desperation in his eyes. "The Queen would never agree to such a preposterous match," he said, searching his mother's face for reassurance. But Rhaenyra's gaze was cast downward, and fear gripped his heart. "Mother... you would not marry me off to a savage, would you?"

Rhaenyra felt her son's pressing gaze upon her, yet she refused to look him in the eye. She turned away from the table and stared at the fireplace illuminating the room, trying to find answers in the dancing embers. At first, she found Daemon's proposal outrageous, but his unconventional thinking often led to surprisingly effective strategies. The fire seemed to whisper to her, telling her it was the right thing to do. The Martells. Dorne. She slowly began to realise that if they managed to secure the support of House Martell, and most importantly, the hand of Princess Y/n, then the whole realm would be united.

However, as everyone in the Black Council had already warned her, it wouldn't be an easy feat. House Martell despised the Targaryens after the mass destruction Aegon the Conqueror had caused during the First Dornish War in his attempt to bring Dorne under Targaryen rule. Cities were burned to the ground, leaving much of Dorne a barren waste of sand and ashes. But even then, the Dornish resisted. Led by House Martell, Dorne fought fiercely for their independence at the cost of hundreds of thousands of lives. Yet it was all worth it in the end, as they remained free from the binds of Westeros.

Then she thought of her father, Viserys, and his dream of The Song of Ice and Fire, and how he urged her to unite the realm for what was to come. The alliance with Dorne was necessary, and though they were in dire times of war, there was no better time to unite the two realms.

With a heavy heart, she turned to face her son, Prince Jacaerys, whose eyes were full of desperation. As a mother, she had hoped she could've spared the heavy burden of her duties from her beloved son, but it couldn't be helped. He was going to be the Crown, and sooner or later, he was bound to carry the burden one way or another.

Rhaenyra exhaled and slowly nodded her head, mustering the courage to speak her final decision. If there was one thing she could handle, it was the hatred from her enemies and the smallfolk, but being despised by her own son was something she wasn't sure she could bear.

"Maester Gerardys," Rhaenyra spoke, trying to ignore how her son's eyes widened in disbelief at her words. "Send another raven to Sunspear for a marriage proposal between Prince Jacaerys and Princess Y/n."

Jacaerys stormed out of the room, and Baela looked at Rhaenyra for permission to go after him. 

As Rhaenyra looked at the Table Map, she felt a hand momentarily ghost at the small of her back.

"You made the right call, my Queen," Daemon whispered, his lips lightly brushing against her ear, causing a chill to run down her spine.

To the Honourable Prince Qoren Martell of Sunspear,

I write to you once more on behalf of Her Grace, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, about the proposal concerning an alliance between our houses. While we understand and respect your initial decision, the urgency of our situation compels us to make another appeal. In light of the escalating threat posed by the combined forces of the Greens, we recognise that the need for strong allies has never been more critical. As such, we wish to renew our proposal.

Her Grace is prepared to betroth her son, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, who eagerly seeks the hand of your daughter, Princess Y/n Martell. We believe that this union will not only strengthen our positions but also signify an enduring alliance between House Targaryen and House Martell.

From Maester Gerardys, in service to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Rhaenyra's footsteps echoed in the stone hallways of the castle as she made her way to her son's chambers. The night was quiet, nothing but the flickering sounds of the torches and the distant waves crashing against the shore could be heard. A few days had passed since she ordered Maester Gerardys to send the raven to Sunspear, and she decided that it was best to give Jacaerys some space so he could come to terms with his future betrothal to Princess Y/n.

Jacaerys refused to speak to anyone, not even Baela, and Rhaenyra's concern for her son was beginning to keep her awake at night to the point she began to question her decisions. However, the raven had already been set, and there was no turning back.

Rhaenyra knocked on the door, only to get no answer. After the second and third try, she sighed, debating whether she should just give up and leave her son. But she knew how Jacaerys felt, and she couldn't bear to see him so distant, losing himself at the thought of marrying a foreign princess they all knew little to none of. Rhaenyra thought Jacaerys was justified to feel the way he did.

She was pleased the marriage proposal between Jacaerys and Baela was approved by her father Viserys. She thought she could give her son the gift of betrothing someone close to him, someone familiar, someone he could eventually grow to love, just as she had been lucky to have been married to Laenor first, and though they weren't each other's preferences, they managed to come to an agreement.

"Jace, let me in," she said one last time. "We need to talk."

Jacaerys still refused to reply, and she expected as much. Rhaenyra slowly opened the door, only to find her son looking through the windows, watching how the waves violently crashed against the cliffs. She couldn't believe how much her son had grown over those past few years, the babe she used to carry in her arms had turned into a man of eight-and-ten, with sharp, handsome features and dark brown curls framing his face. Her heart was full of pride knowing that the Crown would be in good hands with her son, as not only he excelled in politics and affairs of the realm, but he possessed the kindness and compassion her father Viserys did. 

"Jace..." She slowly approached her son, placing a hand on his broad shoulder.

He flinched at her touch and stepped away, refusing to look at her.

"I wish to be alone, Mother."

Rhaenyra closed her eyes and sighed, leaning forward as she also gazed at how the ocean infinitely stretched before her eyes, not knowing how to address the situation. 

"I cannot even imagine how you must feel, Jace. If your grandsire had put me in the same position as you, my feelings would not be any different from yours... Though I still recall how your grandsire had me sit down and meet a never-ending line of suitors," she smiled sadly, feeling the soft breeze of the sea blow gently on her face.

Although Jacaerys remained silent, she still listened to his mother. They rarely had the opportunity to talk so casually about matters he deemed trivial, but he always appreciated those few times they got to talk about anything but war and politics.

"My grandsire already approved of my betrothal with Baela," he mumbled. "I wonder what he would think if he found out you wanted to wed me to a savage."

The sound of the sea seemed to have carried the whispers of her father's wish, as she heard distant voices murmuring The Song of Ice and Fire.

"Your grandsire would be proud," she smiled.

Jacaerys turned to look at her with furrowed brows, wondering if what she had just said was nothing more than a jest. But when his gaze met hers, he could see the love her mother carried for his grandsire Viserys reflected in her eyes.

"Before your grandsire made me heir, he said that I must unite the realm, and this alliance with House Martell is the key to that. This is not just about the ships and this war, Jace. It is beyond that. There are things you will come to understand in time. If this betrothal between you Princess Y/n comes forth, the two of you would finally be uniting the Seven Kingdoms," Rhaenyra said, with a faint glimmer of hope in her eyes, something Jacaerys hadn't seen in a long time.

"I know my duty as the Crown Prince, Mother," Jacaerys said, his voice heavy with resignation. "I understand that there is no undoing the proposal," he sighed. "But it pains me deeply, how you all discussed it as if I were nothing more than a pawn in a game, moved around as you see fit. Baela and I have known each other since childhood; it feels only natural that we should marry. We were just talking about the ceremony we would have once the war is over, imagining weeks of feasting and celebration... only to have it all snatched away from us."

"I am not saying you should, but if worst comes to worst, you could always make an... arrangement with Princess Y/n," Rhaenyra said. 

"An arrangement?" Jacaerys scoffed, shaking his head. "What for? So I can sire more bastards like me?"

Rhaenyra's features hardened as she glared at her son, a flare of anger igniting within her as he brought up those bitter rumours she had buried deeply in her memories.

"Do not speak of yourself that way," Rhaenyra snapped, her voice shaking as she spoke. "You are a true Targaryen, born of fire and blood, and of salt and sea. Let no one, not even yourself, suggest otherwise."

Jacaerys shook his head, growing tired of hearing the same words of denial coming from his mother. 

"I will do what I must for the realm and I will do my best to win the hand of Princess Y/n," Jacaerys muttered in defeat with his gaze cast downwards. "But I will not repeat your mistakes, Mother. I swear I will not sire any bastards, for I will not condemn my future children to face the same humiliation and torment that has haunted me all these years."

To Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,

How amusing it is, to send a mere bird in place of a prince, when seeking the hand of my beloved daughter. Mayhaps you are unaware of our customs, or mayhaps you believe a Targaryen name is worth more than the effort or courtesy. Here in Dorne, we value actions over titles. The hand of my daughter is not something to be bargained for in letters.

Prince Qoren Martell of Sunspear.

"My Queen, Ser Tyland Lannister has been reported to depart to the Free Cities on the morrow," Lady Mysaria spoke before the council. 

Rhaenyra clenched her jaw in irritation, not taking House Martell's second rejection well. Daemon read the message over her shoulder, amused at the words of Prince Qoren. Jacaerys hoped that his mother would give up the negotiations, but after the discussion they had weeks ago, he knew that she was going to do everything in her power to secure the deal with House Martell. 

"Calling us cravens for sending a raven..." Daemon sneered. "What, were they expecting us to march to Sunspear in person, just to deliver the message?"

"We are running out of time, my Queen. It's only a matter of weeks before Ser Tyland reaches the Free Cities if the winds are in their favour," Lady Mysaria said. 

"That is not all, my Queen," Maester Gerardys intervened, concerned. "Just as the King Consort predicted, we have just received various ravens from our allies reporting that they have sighted an alarming number of fleets departing from Lannisport and Oldtown a fortnight ago."

The Queen breathed in, feeling the pressure to make a decision as the enemy took another step. Reading Qoren Martell's letter one final time, she crumpled the parchment in her fist and turned to her council.

"Value actions over titles..." Rhaenyra muttered at the boldness of his words. "If what he desires are actions, that is what he shall get. Daemon, Jacaerys and I shall depart for Sunspear on the morrow on dragonback."

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I hope you enjoyed the first part of this series. This chapter was basically the Targaryens and the Martells sending emails at each other lol. I don't wanna spoil anything but this story will kinda go from 0-100 hehe. Chapter 2 is like 90% finished, but still needs a lot of editing. Anyway, would you guys prefer if I have a regular updating schedule (once a week), or if I just upload whenever a chapter is finished (obviously there will be times when I won't be able to update as much but I sometimes get random bursts of energy)? I would love to know what you think.

If you wish to be added to the taglist, please fill out this form for easier management.

Until next time ;)

[ericshoney]

Matching Costumes ~ Matt Sturniolo

Summary: You get invited to an iconic Tara Yummy party for Halloween, not expecting Matt's costume to be matching with yours.

Warnings: Possible swearing, nicknames, shipping, secret feelings, fluff

You were all dressed up in your costume for the party. Tara was throwing a massive Halloween party. You had chosen to go as Harley Quinn, after having a love for the DC character. You were now waiting for your ride, which happened to be Nick, Matt and Chris.

You had no idea what the triplets were dressing as and vice versa. You wanted it to be a surprise amongst your small friendship group.

A few minutes later, you saw a car pull up in your driveway. You grabbed your bag and walked out to see the familiar car. You climbed in the back besides Nick, who screamed upon seeing your costume.

"Fuck, Nick, have you got to scream!" Chris shouted.

"Sorry! But look!" Nick replied.

Chris and Matt both turned to look at you and that's when you realised what he was screaming about.

Matt was dressed as the Joker.

"Was this planned!" Nick shouted.

"Yeah dude, did you both like, keep this a secret from us?" Chris asked.

"Nope." Matt said shortly.

"No, totally unplanned." You replied.

"That's so cute actually." Nick then said.

You smiled as Matt faced forward again and started driving, Luckily you didn't see the blush on his cheeks.

The car was full of laughter and loud chatter as Matt drove to the party, trying to keep his secret feelings at bay.

As the four of you arrived and headed inside, you were instantly greeted by Tara. She noticed your costumes and smiled wide.

"Aw! You guys look so cute!" She shouted over the loud music.

"It wasn't planned!" You responded.

"Still cute! You know, you two would make a cute couple!" She commented.

You fell silent, alongside the trio. Nick and Chris both looked at Matt, who's eyes were wide at the host's comment.

"Hey Tara, I think you need a re-fill!" Matt said, nodding over to the bar.

"Hm, okay!" She replied with a laugh.

You sighed as the party was in full swing. You and the guys stuck to sodas for the night, Chris had eaten a load of pizza and some girls wouldn't leave Nick alone, which you found ironic.

However, many of your friends had come over and commented on yours and Matt's costumes, and since you hadn't really left his side all night, it made it even more obvious.

And the more comments that came, the more you noticed Matt getting irritated. After the last one from a random guest, Matt stormed out, leaving you, Nick and Chris.

"Go." Nick said to you.

"What?" You called.

"Go. Go after him." He said.

You sighed and followed Matt out of the house, seeing him leaning against the car. You walked over and placed a hand on his arm.

"Hey, you okay?" You asked softly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He mumbled.

"We can leave if you want." You offered.

"No, it's fine." He said.

"You can tell me what's wrong." You reassured him.

Matt sighed and turned to face you. He gave you a small smile.

"It's just..." He began to say.

"You can tell me anything, Matt." You replied.

"I like you. I have for a while." He confessed.

"You....You do?" You asked in shock.

"Yeah. I get it if you don't like me bac-"

You cut Matt off with a gentle kiss. His hands settled on your waist as yours sat on his shoulders. You pulled away and smiled at him.

"Wow." He mumbled.

"I know." You replied.

"So that means..." He mumbled, making you giggle.

"Yes I like you back." You said.

Matt smiled as he pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead, making you smile.

"Wanna head back inside and show everyone our matching couple costumes?" You suggested.

"Of course, sweetheart, then I can show everyone your my girl now." He replied.

You smiled as you both walked back inside, your hands connected and once Nick and Chris saw you, the eldest screamed once again.

"Fuck yeah! Finally!" He exclaimed.

"Shut up." Matt mumbled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

Tags:

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Dividers by @issysh3ll