#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK ANONNNN

[inoreuct]

more sanji drinking angst plis,,, 🙏🏼😁

y’know, it’s normal when zoro drinks. he has an iron liver and a sky-high tolerance. he get mildly tipsy with the amount of alcohol sufficient to kill a regular man.

when sanji drinks, though, it’s usually… not very good.

they’re in the galley, have been since dinner. zoro’s drowsy and full and slumped over the table with his chin in his hand as he watches sanji scrub at the dishes until they squeak, divested of his suit jacket and shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbow, and the cook looks haggard. they’ve all been expecting it, really, what with Whole Cake being a fucking doozy— but sanji’s been holding it together perfectly. big smiles and neatly-pressed suits and coiffed hair and all.

zoro knows him well enough to know that he’s due to break at some point. still, tonight is the first time he’s seen sanji like this; like he’d just decided to say fuck it all and throw pretence to the wind. maybe it had been thanks to the emptiness of the galley, save the both of them. maybe sanji had considered it safe because zoro was in no place to judge.

but when sanji had picked up that bottle of rum, he hadn’t put it down until there was nothing left.

zoro had let him drink. the cook hadn’t even been smoking any more than usual— hadn’t had a single hair out of place, no sign of the pressure except the strain at the edges of his smile. everybody had been walking on eggshells for the past few days and sanji had just kept going like nothing was wrong, which zoro knows means quite a lot is wrong, because sanji’s a self-sacrificial bastard who wouldn’t be able to ask for help if his life depended on it.

didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt, though. he’s felt like he couldn’t breathe, the whole of last week; it doesn’t feel right seeing the cook with a bottle between his lips instead of a cigarette, liquor wetting the corners of his mouth instead of smoke. it makes part of zoro tighten into a dead knot. on one hand, it’s an unspoken show of trust— deliberately left alone so as to not draw attention to it, but one all the same. sanji would never let himself go in front of anyone else like this. maybe a few months earlier he’d think the cook just didn’t care enough for his opinion and get all offended, but now?

sanji knows he’s here. he’s never unaware of his surroundings, and especially now after… everything. he’s believing that zoro won’t judge him, and he won’t. he doesn’t. but enough is enough, and sanji’s grip on the edge of the plate is tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

it’s almost a relief in a really twisted way. zoro’s been hovering by the sidelines, sleeping with one eye open and waiting for sanji to crack just so he can catch all the pieces before the cook falls apart completely, and it seems like this is it.

his chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. “alright, let’s get you to bed.”

“no.” sanji doesn’t stop scrubbing. he doesn’t even bother looking up. “why?”

zoro scoffs. “because you’re fucking drunk, cook. you’ve been washing that plate for five minutes.”

“well maybe it’s just not fucking clean, yeah?” sanji spits, quiet vitriol leadening his words even with his head bowed, and his breathing is jerky as zoro walks forward.

“oi.” it doesn’t come out harshly, exactly, but he needs sanji to know that he isn’t fucking around with this. “What the hell’s going on?”

“i don’t know.”

“what do you mean you don’t—”

“i don’t know!”

zoro lurches back at the outburst as the cook whips around, seething within the span of a second, plate dropped carelessly into the water in the sink. he hears it thunk when it hits the bottom.

“i don’t know, alright?” sanji laughs, eyes wild. “nothing’s wrong. everything’s wrong. everything is fucking perfect and i feel like i’m fucking dying inside.” his voice cracks right before he takes a visible breath and turns sharply, dipping his hand under the water to grab the plate and sponge again.

zoro watches his shoulders tremble. every movement of his now is precise and carefully calculated; he’s moving like a fucking robot and zoro hates it. hates the way his spine looks rigid enough to snap with a touch. hates the way his face is a placid mask, still water with a storm roiling beneath. zoro doesn’t know how to approach this other than with barbed words and concern thinly veiled as confrontation. he doesn’t know what to do other than be here because it’s better than not being here at all.

sanji’s hands have been scrubbed pink and raw. “get out, mosshead.”

“no.”

the cook’s cuticles are peeling, his fingertips pruned. he never lets either of them get this bad. “i said get out—”

“and I said no.” zoro crosses his arms. he counts three seconds of silence before sanji snaps.

“god, for once could you fucking listen?!” the cook snarls, rounding on zoro like a cornered animal and waving his arms. “i don’t want to talk to you right now! i do not want you here! so please, fuck off and— put me down, you piece of shit!” sanji borderline screams, struggling and wiggling over zoro’s shoulder as he’s hauled up and marched out of the galley.

zoro winces as the toe of a steel-capped oxford jams into his ribs, digging in deeper as sanji grunts with the effort. he doesn’t know where he’s going but they end up outside the infirmary, and he shoulders the door open before depositing sanji on the bed without preamble. “stay,” he grunts, ignoring the noises of outrage and turning to go get water.

“you can’t tell me what to do,” sanji spits from behind him, cheeks red from more than just anger as he pushes himself unsteadily to his feet. he either doesn’t realise that he’s listing to the side or he doesn’t care.

“sit down or I’ll make you.”

the cook barks a laugh that snaps in the air like a neck in rope. “try! i fucking dare you, marimo, you—”

zoro tackles him down and he screeches like a trapped cat, trying to escape even as the swordsman pins his legs and shoves his shoulders down into the bunk. “you are drunk. stop it.”

“why?” sanji shouts in his face. the cook is straining against him, all wild eyes and bared teeth, shoulders jerking with a sardonic laugh. “don’t wanna fight anymore?”

“no. i don’t.” the air is suddenly too quiet, too heavy, with something zoro doesn’t know if he should name. he watches as the cook’s face falls and twists into something sullen as he tries one last time to jerk his way out of zoro’s hold. “not like this.”

their ship rocks gently as zoro slowly eases off, shifting his weight back and sitting on the edge of the mattress with a soundless, weary sigh. there’s still a stubborn set to sanji’s chin even as he lays there on his back, unmoving from where zoro put him— leave it to him to be contrary for the sake of being contrary. the swordsman takes a deep breath to suppress an eye roll and opens his mouth to say something—

“it hurts.”

zoro stills, turning so he can see sanji better. “what hurts, cook?”

“everything.”

the blond is staring at the ceiling, unblinking and unreadable. the fabric of his slacks is riding up and zoro swallows down the urge to curl a hand around his pale ankle for comfort. he tells himself he doesn’t know where the urge to soothe came from, but he knows, he knows— this melancholy is something that sanji buries so deep, none of them catch even a glimpse of it on a normal day. his face is a blank slate, his usual fire banked, and he looks so drained. an cracked shell of himself running on empty. “i don’t want to feel it. i don’t want to feel anything,” he continues, softly enough that zoro has to strain to hear, leaning in instinctively. 

glossy blue eyes flick over. golden hair scrunches against the off-white sheets as sanji turns his face towards him and whispers, “doesn’t that make me exactly like them?”

no. zoro swallows, at the same time both too wet and too dry, feeling a little like he’s been gutted with a dull knife. he says a mental to hell with it and slowly shifts his hand to wrap his fingers around sanji’s ankle, just a gentle grip, his thumb resting beneath the notch of bone. he can hear the soft sounds of the waves outside as it melds with sanji’s breathing, as he opens his mouth and comes up dry for things to say. “…get some sleep, curls.”

“can’t.” sanji purses his lips, shrugging a shoulder as he looks away like it’s no big deal. “can’t sleep. not well, at least. not since…”

zoro feels his own heart thud against his ribs as his gaze slips over sanji’s face, the redness rimming his eyes and the dark circles beneath. “i’m sleeping with you tonight,” he decides. 

the cook makes an aborted noise of indignation before apparently deciding that it isn’t worth the effort. “we can’t fit two people in a bed.”

zoro shrugs, unaffected in the face of the venomous look sanji shoots him. “we can try.”

sanji mutters something to the ceiling under his breath. the swordsman pretends not to hear it.

they end up crammed onto the infirmary bed, sanji squashed against the wall and zoro almost falling off. the blond wiggles around in discomfort for five minutes before sitting bolt upright with a hissed curse and undoing his dress shirt in a frenzy; zoro stifles a laugh as he balls it up and hurls it at the desk across the room before flopping back down with a loud huff. 

the cook scrunches himself up, spine pressed against the wall and one knee pulled up between them to maintain the distance, pointed at zoro’s gut as a subtle threat. “i’m not gonna bite you, y’know,” zoro grumbles. here he is doing this out of goodwill and this is how he’s treated. 

“i wouldn’t put it past you,” sanji snips in reply. “also, you stink.”

“no i don’t. i just showered.”

“irrelevant.”

“priss.”

“moron.”

“spoiled.”

“i have standards, you sentient piece of kelp.”

“you—” zoro grits out, before he stalls. somehow, throughout this whole exchange, they’d inched closer and closer together and now sanji’s shoulder is digging into his breastbone, his breath warm across zoro’s cheek even as a brush of his skin above the loose, low front of zoro’s shirt feels completely opposite. “why’re you so fuckin’ cold?” he mutters, briskly rubbing at sanji’s upper arms before the cook bats him away with a startled hiss.

“don’t—” he cuts off and huffs a harsh breath, sneering in the dark as he digs for the right word, “—coddle me.”

“why not?” zoro shoots back. the words are out of his mouth faster than he can process, but it’s too late to take them back. “give me one good reason and i’ll stop. just one.” 

the quiet that falls into place after that is broken by the sound of sanji’s swallow and nothing else. it’s nearly pitch-black; they’d put out the lamp on the wall and the infirmary has no windows. if zoro strains his eye he can see sanji’s outline curled close to his own front, golden hair darkened to honey and arms wrapped around himself.

he recalls how it had felt to have fine bones beneath his hand. how the cook hadn’t kicked him off. 

the hand he rests on sanji side is tentative. barely-there pressure, a ghost of a touch with enough space for sanji to back away. he settles his palm down more firmly after a few seconds, tracking his thumb up and down the bumps of sanji’s ribs, and he barely stops his breath from catching when the cook wiggles away from the wall and presses his spine into zoro’s hand. 

sanji’s looking at him. he can see the occasional flutter of long lashes, feel the weight of the cook’s attention like sanji’s preparing to say something, but it never comes. a soft breath slips from his lips before zoro feels a hand curl around his waist, fingers curling into his shirt. 

“sanji.”

the cook heaves a long-suffering sigh. it doesn’t hide how he’s affected by zoro using his real name; zoro can read him too well for that. knows him too well for that. “what.”

zoro readjusts, fingertips pressing into the small of sanji’s back to pull him closer, and wonder of wonders, the cook lets him. “you’re nothing like them.” 

he pretends he doesn’t feel sanji’s arm tighten around him after a few seconds. he notices that his shirt’s damp right before he falls asleep, right where sanji has his face buried in his shoulder.

he doesn’t mention any of it.

*

the next morning is… interesting.

zoro had woken to an empty bed, with the sheets just barely warm and hazy recollections of a lithe body tucked to his side, a leg thrown over his and soft hair under his chin. he stretches and ambles down to the galley, scratching at his stomach beneath his shirt as he yawns, and right on cue— sanji’s disdainful little tongue click reaches his ears, and he smiles. everything’s back to normal, then. 

there’s more of the usual; luffy getting yelled at to leave the eggs alone, i don’t care if you’re hungry, they are raw, and nami and robin being handed their special little tiny cups of coffee and tea respectively. the rest of the crew filters in, and zoro people-watches from his spot on the ratty corner couch before he eventually gets up and slides into his seat at the table. 

but when sanji takes his spot beside him, it feels different. the cook’s made onigiri for breakfast, the plate set down just a little closer to zoro’s side than usual before he sits, and zoro pauses with his chopsticks in the air as an ankle bumps into his. 

not roughly, or painfully, nowhere near, no. just a reminder. a small nudge that could say any possible number of things, but from the way sanji’s gaze meets his before darting away, he’d guess it’s the thank you that their cook always has so much trouble saying. it’s never a lack of gratitude— more of a refusal to acknowledge that he needed help in the first place, that he accepted it, but zoro will take what he can get.

the circles under sanji’s eyes aren’t quite so dark anymore.

zoro knocks back. he feels the rasp of his boot laces against the heel of sanji’s patent leather oxford, and neither of them pull away. the swordsman presses his lips together and takes a big bite to hide his smile, failing momentarily when sanji immediately starts berating his abysmal table manners, marimo, honestly, if you choke i will leave you to die, and yeah, sure. back to normal.

he catches sanji’s eye again, sky-cornflower-ocean blue, and he wonders what sanji could be seeing in his to make his face soften like that.

normal, and maybe a little something new. 

(he isn’t quite sure what to do the following night. sanji’s already in his own bunk when he slips in for a quick few hours of shut-eye, but it isn’t long before he feels someone climbing in with him, and he just knows instinctively without even needing to open his eye. they’ve got limbs hanging out here and there but they fit reasonably well and zoro wakes with sanji’s sleep shirt tucked in his fist and his thin blanket pulled up around his shoulders.

it goes on like this night after night to the point where their crew knows, he thinks. even if zoro discounts the fact that most of them share a bunkroom, they’ve still got to know something’s up; sanji glows like sunlight reflecting off the ocean now, real smiles and laughs that have him tossing his head back and holding his stomach, eyes in sapphire half-moons. robin brings it up offhandedly one day and zoro hums that proper sleep’s doing their cook good— she gives him that look that she does, and he turns away with a smile that he hides in his arm.

the first time sanji finds him in the crow’s nest, he’s still asleep when zoro’s watch ends. the cook’s stretched out on the bench above as zoro sits on the floor, hand draped down against zoro’s collarbone, his face so peaceful that zoro can’t— fuck, he can’t wake him.

and it can’t be comfortable lying on his own arm like that; zoro sits down and carefully pushes him up until sanji’s leaning on his shoulder, that sharp nose tucked under his jaw, and drifts asleep.)

(he stirs awake before sanji’s gone. his eye flutters open to find the cook mid-yawn, working out a crick in his neck and bathed in early-morning light, warm and golden. the cook realises he’s watching and freezes, shoulders going tense and stiff—

he deflates a little when zoro blinks at him, sleep-warm and bleary. “gotta make breakfast, marimo,” he murmurs, reaching out after a moment’s hesitation.

the hand that cups zoro’s cheek is gently callused and somehow familiar. he turns into it like a flower to the sun and breathes in something that he never even realised he’d gotten used to, olive oil and shoe polish and orange blossom pomade. “i know,” he replies, pressing the words into sanji’s palm, and a thumb drags across his cheekbone.

“need anything before i go?” sanji asks, and they both know it’s half a joke. what could he possibly give zoro in here? a dumbbell sandwich?

that other half, though— it’s far too serious. a cold plunge of water through zoro’s muddled early-morning brain. he knows what he wants, but zoro also knows that patience is a virtue for a reason.

the cook already has a hard enough time letting people in. zoro doesn’t want to push. the hand against his cheek is enough for him, even if it is all sanji could ever want, and so he slips the blond a wry grin. “onigiri?”

“you— ugh, fine.” sanji huffs. “anything else?”

zoro frowns, growing increasingly convinced that this is some sort of trap. these are unprecedented levels of generosity. “…protein shake?”

it takes all of two seconds before sanji puts his face into his hands, taking a deep breath before zoro hears something about having to do everything myself, don’t i? the cook plants his hands on his hips, tapping his foot with one brow arched. “of all the people in the world,” he mutters through his teeth, advancing on zoro with enough of a menacing air that the swordsman leans back into the backrest, “of course it had to be you.”

“me what?” zoro says warily, eyeing sanji up and down, and opens his mouth to continue before a fist grips his collar and there’s a brush of contact at his temple— a kiss, he realises, before all the thoughts drain out of his fucking brain.)

(he’s still reeling when he stumbles his way to breakfast. still wide-eyed as he washes the plates, for once, without complaint. it’s when it’s just the two of them, when zoro twists around to ask a question that he hasn’t yet phrased, that arms lock around his waist and sanji’s forehead presses to his nape.

they’re quiet for a long, long while. “you remind me that i’m not like them, y’know,” sanji breathes, barely loud enough to be heard.

zoro turns in his hold, hands dripping all over the floor, fuck, the cook’ll make him clean that up later, he knows and he isn’t even mad about it. “what do you mean, curls?”

sanji leans into him, all sharp edges and bony joints softened by lean muscle and zoro’s fondness, fingers long and thin and laced together over zoro’s hip. “i’m pretty damn sure they’ve never felt like this.”)

(not much changes after that. franky does make them a bigger bunk to share, though, and they fight perhaps even more fiercely now; afternoons are spent toying with each other across the deck, pushing their limits, pushing each other higher until nami yells at them to stop making a racket. zoro doesn’t pretend that he can’t tell when sanji needs a little more contact, keeping him close when perfectly filed nails dig into his shirt. sanji takes care of them all like he always does, and he lets zoro take care of him— most of the time, at least. it’s still a toss-up on whether he’ll explode or break down whenever anyone tries to help him, but with zoro it’s either both in succession or neither.

sometimes he picks a fight and then cries afterwards. others, he concedes to being wrapped in a ratty old blanket and tucked into zoro’s chest where he can hide from the world.

he sleeps through every night now, though. he’s fiery and sharp-tongued and bright-eyed and when he’s had a bit too much to drink he just gets loud, fooling around with their captain and cackling with nami in a corner of the galley between conspiratorial whispers, but zoro can’t deny him anything even though he’s fairly sure they’re plotting his downfall.

he wouldn’t have it any other way.)

[protosymphonette]

Your ‘hate wins’ Butch and lone survivor art eclipses my thoughts often, I love seeing ur fallout oc’s please talk more about John whenever you have the chance, his positive swag and earnest whimsy have me enraptured. hoping you have a good day 🙏🏼

hello anon sorry for leavin this in my inbox for so long, for some reason i have been PHYSICALLY UNABLE to draw my ocs for the past couple of weeks- i think i got over it though. here are some johns and also a little of my other fo ocs... just 4 u.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

really random and probably very out of place but…….. hypothetically……… if reader was invited to a bachelor/bachelorette party on another country for let’s say a week or so, how would geto react?? like, i know he would accompany reader to the airport and he’d be super supportive, but would he miss them? 🤨🤨 would he turn into a sad and nostalgic and soggy cat……….. a little yearner even though it’s only a week………

HE WOULD . HE WOULD . HE WOULD. I CANNOT OVERSTATE HOW MUCH HE WOULD DO JUST THAT.

anon this ask set every neuron in my brain on fire i’ve been WAITING to talk abt loserboy loverboy sugu……. because that is exactly what he is. he’s a loser. a lover. he loves you so much. he’s so good at hiding it, so good at keeping up a cool guy image, but deep down he’s a soggy little wet cat who just wants to play with your hair and have you play with his 😔😔 i think that once you’ve completely wormed your way into his heart he never wants to be away from you…. he loves just existing with you at home the most . that’s where he feels most at peace. most himself . :(((((( sniffle….

so when you go overseas…. i doooo think he sort of dies a little. very much turns into a little yearner!!! our little sad soggy cat!!!!! he WANTS to be normal about it so badly because . he knows it shouldn’t be a big deal if you’re away for a week or two. it shouldn’t be. and he desperately wants to pretend that he’s okay because satoru and shoko keep calling him codependent and he wants to prove them wrong. but i think he lasts like…. a couple days before his distractions stop working and he notices that everything just feels kind of wrong. like. where is his little baby!!!!!! where is his little baby who plays with his hair and eats his breakfast and smiles at him so sweetly :(((( he just feels sooo bored and so lonely and so mopey and after a while he gets bad at hiding it. satoru and shoko can’t bring him anywhere because eventually he WILL sigh longingly and go “i wish y/n was here.” sad little baby boy. 

when you’re talking on the phone i think he tries his best not to let you in on it though….. he just wants you to have fun where you are. he doesn’t want to be selfish and whine for you to come back :((((( even though that’s all he desperately needs…. i think he’s patient enough to just . wait . but he misses you. i don’t think he sleeps or eats very well when you’re not around either… but he really, really tries!!! and i do think he reaches a functional state eventually . especially if you remind him to take care of himself extra while you’re away :3 then he’s like . oh well. i guess i Have to. since they asked so nicely. say what you will but i think he’s whipped..

and when you come back……. yeah. you’re not leaving the house again anytime soon :33 he WILL keep you hostage in his lap on the couch and he will feed you a nice warm handmade meal. kisses your head every two seconds. cradles you soooo close . he needs to recharge!!!!!

[everybodyshusband]

Husband, husband, with that lovely fic of Aethers first orgasm floating around by another lovely author, may I request someone of your choosing first orgasm?

my first instinct was to say the new bug (aeon) because he's adorably wet and pathetic buuuuut i think the new buggette (aurora) deserves some first orgasm love :3

don't you think she'd be so shocked ? she's been feeling something strange in her abdomen for a while but hasn't really taken heed of it until she sits down to start getting ready for bed and feels some kind of.... moisture ? in her panties ?? so she lies down to assess the "damage" and some kind of instinct tells her she should touch herself and feel just how wet and slippery she is...

cue aurora kind of fumbling her way through her first orgasm by petting at her clit with an open mouth and being so shocked and overcome by what she's feeling that she falls asleep immediately and forgets all about it until she's woken up by a smirking aeon the next morning :3

[toshkakoshka]

Not a ChaiPunk suggestion, more of a general suggestion. You should try something if not everything from Yeh Jeewani Hai Deewani, the music is so good. Also, on the Tollywood side of things, I like the soundtracks from Baahubali 1 and 2 (they have more of a medieval fantasy vibe to them), so if you’re interested, give that a go.

YOOOO IM DEFINITELY GONNA LISTEN TO THESE!! ALSO TOLLYWOOD IS TAMIL MOVIES RIGHT??? lord ill give them a listen and get back to this post then <333 omgggg

[sleepygirlthing]

pushing my nuts in your mouth and rubbing my cock all over your pretty face...

mnnghhhehe hheyyy,, takes in ur scent and feels ur precum drip onto my face ^_^ nuzzles into ur cock so cutely

[mysummerchoi]

If you receive this, you make someone happy. Go on anonymous and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or some that you think need cheering up. If you get some back, even better. 💜💖💜💖

[whumpasaurus101]

Off topic to whump but my mom’s name is lee so I clicked on your profile because I wanted to make sure my mother hadn’t somehow joined tumblr/ writeblr and lurked through some of your posts and I wanted to say you seem cool

/gen /lh

OMGOMGOMF ILLL CRY THATS SO SWEET OMG 😭😭😭😭💜💜💜💜 dont mind me just ugly sobbing over here NSDJ

ALSO I PROMISE I AM NOT YOUR MAM SJJDJSJDKFK

[the-light-of-stars]

I really like the blue version of your OC's outfit! (and now that I think about it, if you're still looking for fanart ideas, and only if you want/it's not too much work, I'd love to see Rok-Tahk from Star Trek Prodigy in a blue Starfleet science officer uniform, she's such a great character but the grey ensign uni is just one more crime against her).

aww hell yea thanks anon, glad you enjoyed the outfit!! and oh yeah I do actually still need suggestions for the fan art challenge so this is perfect!

(and if anyone else sees this feel free to submit a character for it too)

[chocos-universe]

Hello!! How are you doing? ^^

-☀️

Hello dear Sunflower!:3

I'm doing alrightttt<3

Hbuuuu?

[sugarysakurakitty]

Lol no it's okay, thats a perfectly reasonable response! I get so excited to talk about stuff like this too

I've never heard of furrypaws, is it a website?

.....I will be getting a curly coated retriever puppy from a really good breeder next year, and I'm SO excited

Lol last question because I have to go to work, but do you like dog sports? Are there any you want to do some day?

Yes! If you wanna check it out. It's very fun in my opinion!

!! Awwww!!! So adorable!!! I'm so excited for you! I hope you show pictures when you do!!

I do! I've always had a love for agility in particular, but I don't think I'll ever be able to participate in any with my disability and all. I hope I can go to some shows in person someday, though!

Have a good day at work! I hope it doesn't exhaust you too much, and that something fun happens while you are there.

[dadsdaugther]

I just can’t stop thinking about my sexy hot little young cum dumpster. 

After raping you behind the club I just can’t stop thinking about having again over and over. 

My little cock addicted whore to use and abuse and dress up before her dates. 

Daddy raping and seeding your pussy raw before your dates. 

You coming home for daddy to wash and clean and face fuck before bed.

Waking you and raping you in the morning for being a filthy whore on your dates. 

(˚0˚)!! wow anon that is really hot I would to be a little rape slut and have fun on dates with warm jizz up inside my little girl pussy ꩜o꩜ it would be so hot if my future daddy would send me out on dates to get r@ped and then come home again so dad can take care of me and then they use me again *little girl scream* soo hot omg 🫦

[ourowndemise]

ღ

Munday Meme!

ღ ━ favorite canon ships for your muse(s). are there any you dislike?

Hello, sorry for getting to this late! I'd somehow missed it.

One thing to know about me is that I adore all ships, all the time. <3 As long as everyone is of age and consenting, that's about all I need!

Zelgan? Sure. Ganlink? Yep. KohGan? Yeah.

I just like every ship. All are good and make me happy, and I can find content no matter my mood! I just love love <33

[jollybone]

I love your Bell oc with all my heart honestly djcbcnd :[ <3

Awwww thank you so so much that means so much to me😭😭😭🥺🥺♥️

[hyuckmov]

shut up you're telling me you don't like the jaemin angst you wrote? (i mean it the nicest way i swearrrr) (also, just to make it clear ToT i do understand that you may not be satisfied with it and i'm not invalidating that)

BUT THAT FIC JUST 😩😩😩😩

i have an exam in less than two hours but tell me why i'm out here willingly tearing my heart apart. like, that was SOOOO GOOD!

the fact that jaem knew that y/n was in love with him all along? oh my god, so cruel.

pls, i'll need a few minutes to let all this sink in 😔

UMMM FR???? HAHAHAH thank you sm for assuring me 😭😭😭 idkkk personally i just wasn't really vibing w it but i'm happy you like it!!! also hope your exam went well omg and if you have more exams coming up all the best and good luck!!!

also yeah jaemin was pretty cruel in this one hehe which is why i couldn't really continue it after i was just sitting there like damn so what should i do now... wrote myself into a corner with that one

[moonselune]

I'm not the same anon who requested for BG3 ladies reacting to gn!Tav's silly sacrifice but could I request for the same prompt with Gale, Wyll, Astarion, and Halsin? - emoji anon

Hey emoji anonnnn, absolutely hope you enjoy it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The battlefield was chaos. Spells flew, swords clashed, and the cries of battle filled the air. Gale was caught up in a complex incantation, focusing intently on the weave of magic he was about to unleash. He didn’t see the enemy closing in on him, a blade poised to strike.

Without hesitation, you dashed across the battlefield, pushing through the pain and exhaustion that already weighed heavily on your limbs. The blade came down, aimed directly at Gale, but you intercepted it, feeling the sharp sting as it cut deep into your side. With a swift motion, you retaliated, your weapon finding its mark and finishing off the attacker.

Gale’s spell went off, obliterating another group of enemies, but his triumph was short-lived as he turned and saw you, bloodied and swaying on your feet. Panic flashed in his eyes as he rushed to your side.

“Are you okay?” you managed to ask, your voice shaky. “You’re not too hurt, are you?”

Gale’s eyes widened in horror as he took in the severity of your wounds. “Am I okay? What about you? You’re covered in blood!” His hands trembled as he reached out to steady you, fear and concern etched into his features. “Hold on, we need to get you some healing.”

You tried to smile, but it came out more as a grimace. “I’m fine, just a scratch.” Your vision blurred, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of consciousness.

Gale didn’t waste a moment. He muttered a healing incantation, his hands glowing with a soft, warm light as he pressed them to your wounds. “Stay with me,” he urged, his voice filled with determination. “You saved my life. Now let me save yours.”

As the healing magic coursed through you, some of the pain ebbed away, and you felt a bit more stable. Gale’s face was inches from yours, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. “You’re so reckless,” he chided gently, his voice breaking. “But thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You managed a weak smile, your hand reaching up to touch his cheek. “Anything for you, Gale. Always.”

He pulled you into a tender embrace, his heart pounding with relief. “Rest now. I’ll keep you safe.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The clamor of battle surrounded you, but your focus was on Astarion. He was fighting off two foes, his movements graceful yet deadly. However, he was so engrossed in the fight that he didn’t see the third enemy sneaking up behind him, blade raised for a fatal strike.

You acted on pure instinct. Ignoring the pain already coursing through your body from earlier wounds, you leapt forward, taking the blow meant for Astarion. The blade cut deep, but you gritted your teeth and fought through the pain, swiftly dispatching the attacker before they could cause any more harm.

Astarion finished off his opponents and turned just in time to see you standing there, blood pouring from the gash in your side. His eyes widened in shock and fury.

“You fool!” he exclaimed, rushing to your side and catching you as you started to collapse.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice weak but insistent. “You’re not too hurt, are you?”

Astarion’s anger melted into a mix of worry and exasperation. “Am I okay? Look at you! You’re bleeding out!” His hands were already moving, trying to staunch the flow of blood. “Why did you do that?”

You tried to smile, though it was more of a pained grimace. “I couldn’t let you get hurt. You mean too much to me.”

Astarion’s eyes softened, though his lips still held a hint of a scowl. “You ridiculous, brave idiot,” he muttered, his voice trembling. He tore a piece of fabric from his sleeve, pressing it to your wound. “Stay with me, love. We’re not done yet.”

You felt the edges of your vision darkening, but Astarion’s voice anchored you. “I’m here,” you murmured, trying to keep your focus on him.

Astarion’s hands were steady now, though his face was a mask of concentration and worry. “You are not allowed to die on me,” he said fiercely. “Not after everything we’ve been through.”

He managed to stop the bleeding enough to give you some stability, and he held you close, his face inches from yours.

“You’re so infuriatingly selfless,” he whispered, his tone softening. “But I love you for it. Just promise me you won’t do something like this again.”

You nodded weakly, your hand reaching up to touch his cheek. “Anything for you, Astarion.”

He kissed you gently, a mix of relief and love in his eyes. “Rest now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The battlefield was a chaotic blur of clashing steel and magic. Wyll, absorbed in a fierce duel with a powerful foe, didn’t see the enemy creeping up behind him. You noticed just in time, your heart pounding as you rushed forward, ignoring everything else. The blade aimed for Wyll’s back found you instead, slashing deeply across your side. With a fierce cry, you fought off the enemy, finishing them with a swift and decisive blow.

Wyll turned, eyes wide with shock and horror as he saw you stagger, blood staining your clothes. “No!” he shouted, rushing to your side. “Why did you do that? Are you mad?”

You managed a weak smile, trying to stay upright despite the pain. “Are you okay? You’re not too hurt, are you?”

Wyll’s eyes were filled with a mix of anger and worry as he quickly assessed your injuries. “I’m fine, but you… you’re not,” he said, his voice trembling. “You’re hurt badly.”

You swayed on your feet, the world spinning around you. “Just wanted to make sure you’re safe,” you murmured, feeling your strength ebb away.

Without another word, Wyll scooped you into his arms, carrying you to the safety of the nearby camp. He laid you down gently, his hands glowing with healing magic as he worked to close your wound. “You’re not doing this again,” he muttered, his voice a mix of determination and fear. “I won’t lose you.”

You could see the worry etched on his face, but you managed a faint smile. “I’d do it again… to keep you safe,” you whispered.

Wyll shook his head, a tear slipping down his cheek. “No more heroic sacrifices, love. We protect each other, remember?”

You nodded weakly, feeling the warmth of his healing magic seep into your body. “I remember,” you said softly, your eyes closing as exhaustion took over. “Thank you, Wyll.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The battle raged around you, and Halsin was busy fending off a group of enemies when you saw a foe raising their weapon behind him. Without a second thought, you dashed forward, intercepting the blow meant for him. Pain exploded in your side as the weapon sliced into you, but you gritted your teeth and retaliated, swiftly dispatching the enemy.

Halsin turned at the sound of your cry, his eyes widening as he saw you bloodied but victorious.

“What have you done?” he exclaimed, rushing to your side. “My love, why?"

You gave him a strained smile, barely able to stand. “Are you okay? You’re not too hurt, are you?”

Halsin’s expression softened, but his worry was palpable. “I’m fine, but you… you’re hurt badly,” he said, his voice tight with concern. “Why didn’t you call for help? Or alert me to the danger?”

You tried to stay upright, but your legs felt like jelly. “Didn’t have time.... Had to make sure you were safe,” you replied, your voice growing weaker.

With a gentle but firm grip, Halsin lifted you into his arms, carrying you away from the battlefield. He found a quiet spot and laid you down carefully, his hands already glowing with druidic magic as he began to heal your wounds.

“You’re too precious to me to be taking such risks,” he said, his voice both stern and loving.

You could feel the warmth of his magic soothing your pain, and you managed a faint smile. “Just wanted to protect you,” you whispered.

Halsin’s eyes were filled with tenderness and frustration. “I can take care of myself,” he replied, his hands moving steadily over your wounds. “But seeing you hurt… it’s unbearable, my heart.”

You reached up weakly, touching his cheek. “I’ll be okay,” you said softly. “Thanks to you. My big bear.”

Halsin chuckled and leaned down, the healing magic clearly getting to you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Rest now, love. We’ll talk about your reckless bravery later,” he murmured. “For now, just let me take care of you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

These were a little short but I hope y'all liked them - Seluney xox