#and that certainly would have been a shorter process!

[cat3ch1sm]

hii! could i request hcs about illumi's fiancé meeting the zoldycks? something along the lines of her being expected to be the next lady of the house and getting used to the mansion's lifestyle (having butlers, being secluded on a mountain, having the entire family living together)? it would also be nice to see her getting along with the little siblings (killua, kalluto, and alluka)

sorry if i left out any necessary details in this request :(

~✰♡✰♡✰~ hellooo! thanks for ur request :)) haven’t written for hxh in a little while so im happy to write this for you and our favorite bug-eyed assassin :3 if you’re ever unsure about what info to put in a request, just visit the pinned post! ily 💚

fem!reader

𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜é 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐤𝐬

illumi isn’t close with his family in the same sense that normal people are close with their families, but nonetheless he feels the need to inform them of major developments in his life. through a letter he tells his family of his engagement, and says that he is going to bring you to his home to see them all.

silva is indifferent, and zeno couldn’t care less, but kikyo is ecstatic that her illumi is finally going to marry someone- and that it isn’t that awful clown hisoka. she’d been seriously concerned for a second there. but she rounds up all the members of her family to be present on the day of your arrival (using excessive force because nobody really wanted to come besides alluka, who was only allowed to meet you because killua threatened to not show up unless alluka was permitted as well).

when you and illumi first arrive after the lengthy trip up the mountain, you are greeted by butlers gotoh and canary, whose presence startles you. you were aware of illumi’s great wealth and status, but it was certainly different from how you’d grown up. just getting inside the actual home is a process- illumi’s strength slightly freaking you out when he pushes open four of the doors to the entrance of the mansion without breaking a sweat and then encountering Mike, the Zoldycks’ monstrous dog. illumi does notice your apprehension, though, and plainly assures you that the dog won’t harm anybody it isn’t supposed to. you’re still visibly nervous, though, so illumi has you come closer to him and hold on to his arm. regardless, you realize it may be tougher to settle in than you thought.

at last, though, illumi brings you to his family. nobody reacts much outwardly to your presence, but you notice a white-haired boy with catlike eyes observing you closely, his expression a mixture of suspicion and confusion. standing beside the boy are two other black haired children- one with short black hair standing somberly with his hands folded in front of him, and the other an eager blue-eyed girl whose gaze sparkles as she looks at you. the white haired boy stands right behind the blue-eyed child. the tall, blonde man with a large frame illumi tells you is Silva, his father, and the slightly shorter man with white hair beside him is illumi’s grandfather, zeno.

without warning, you feel thin arms thrown around you in an embrace, and you almost jump out of your skin. but when you are released, you see the woman that can only be your fiancés mother, the only member of the family illumi had warned told you about prior to the visit. kikyo wears a large dress with an ostentatious petticoat and hat, and most notably a visor over where her eyes would be with one red glowing dot. her appearance is unsettling, and you find it a little difficult to force a smile when she greets you. illumi watches you from the side of his eye, his face unreadable.

just as kikyo is pulling away, something gleaming and silver and large is thrown right at your head, whizzing right by kikyo’s hat and slicing off a single hair from the feather on her hat. you don’t hesitate to lift your hand to your face and catch the sword immediately, the blade slicing your hand- but you don’t flinch as the blood seeps onto the blade and down your arm. you tilt your head to the side to see your assailant is silva, his arm still poised in throwing position. his expression grows less stony once he sees you’ve caught his weapon.

there’s a moment of icy silence, you lowering the weapon to your side, and silva watches you even more intently before uttering a flat “welcome to the family.” with that, he and his father turn and disappear elsewhere inside the mansion. kikyo, though, takes this as her cue to immediately grab you so you two can walk by yourselves throughout the mansion. illumi doesn’t look super pleased to see his mother take you, but he knows better than to try and stop her.

you two are navigating the long, hollow corridors of the zoldyck home. you pass many unsettling family pictures and paintings as well as various weapons like swords and arrows on the walls, and several human sculptures that seem a little too realistic. you’re also sure that you pass at least two torture chambers. it’s an eerie atmosphere, which was what you’d expected, but it doesn’t help your nerves.

kikyo either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about your apprehension, and instead starts talking about how much she’s wanted a daughter and how thrilled she is to finally have a “daughter” to take in. but then she grows eerily serious. she talks about how you’ll be expected to be the next lady of the house and, since you’re becoming a zoldyck, how you’ll have to follow the same codes they do as a family and exhibit the same values- which makes you antsy. the woman clearly seems a bit unhinged. you’re relieved when the walk ends and you’re returned to your fiancé, who gestures for you to take his arm again. illumi’s mother’s mood changes drastically yet again and she storms off, shrieking to her husband that it’s rude for him to walk off after hardly having said anything.

now you and illumi are left with the four other children- the white-haired boy, the girl with long hair, the boy with short hair and purple-pink eyes, and a homely fat boy behind the three younger ones. he holds a small console in front of his face and doesn’t even seem to acknowledge your presence. illumi introduces them to you.

“y/n, i’d like you to meet my siblings,” illumi states in his usual manner, walking slowly towards them. gesturing to the white-haired boy, he says, “this is my brother, killua. i call him kil.” he looks down at his brother with an eerie smile and black eyes like pits, but killua keeps his stony gaze straight ahead. his hand rests on the shoulder of the girl in front of him.

“this is my youngest brother, kalluto,” illumi continues, placing a large hand on top of the boy’s head. his hands remain folded in front of him, and he gives you a polite nod. looking toward the fat boy behind kalluto, his expression slightly curling into one of disdain, illumi tells you, “and this is the second oldest, milluki.” milluki doesn’t acknowledge you at all, which seems to visibly irritate illumi, but he doesn’t reprimand the boy.

you’re confused when illumi doesn’t introduce the girl, and you glance up at him in confusion. “illumi, what about her?” you look down at the girl in front of killua, who looks surprised for a second, and so does killua behind her. “you forgot to tell me her name. she’s a beautiful little girl.” you manage a small smile, leaning down slightly to stroke the girl’s hair. her blue eyes sparkle with joy, and killua looks up at you as well, looking a little confused but also very relieved. “your mother said she had no daughters.”

illumi’s eyes lower ever so slightly, giving him a dismissive look. “she doesn’t,” he answers flatly, and his tone makes you feel like that’s the end of the discussion. you’re definitely lost- but you suppose it’s something illumi will have to fill you in on later. you glance sideways at illumi, hand still resting in the girl’s hair. she definitely doesn’t seem to mind you, and killua appears to have warmed up to you as well. milluki’s vanished elsewhere and kalluto watches the whole exchange from the corner of his eye.

suddenly you all hear kikyo call for illumi, who immediately stands up upon hearing his name. “you will remain here until i return.” he tells you, his tone no-nonsense, and heels clicking he makes his way down the dark hallway, leaving you alone with the kids.

the second illumi is out of earshot, the girl brightens up. “hi!” she chirps, bouncing on her feet excitedly. “my name is alluka!”

you’re slightly startled, but you smile at the girl anyway and tell her hi, still wondering why illumi seems so detached from this girl in particular.

killua seems to read your mind. “i know what you’re thinking,” he tells you, not unkindly. “listen, my family doesn’t like alluka much- and they refer to her with male pronouns. just go along with it in front of them. it’s safer for you.” he pauses, then looks down. “but thanks for being nice to her.”

you frown and nod, deciding not to ask any more questions about it. kalluto still hasn’t said anything, but somehow you don’t feel like this boy will be anything to worry about.

with alluka and killua having warmed up to you, you get into a conversation, and kalluto eventually offers a few words after awhile- although never acknowledging alluka directly. most of it is basically killua wondering how the hell you managed to get engaged to someone like illumi.

“No way he didn’t force you to go out with him.”

“What the hell do you even see in that guy? He’s batshit crazy- and he’s definitely not a model.”

“How’d he propose? Did he try to kill you and you survived?”

“‘Man, you really gotta be messed up for Illumi to like you.”

“What even made him wanna get married to you? What even made you wanna get married to him?”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“And you said yes? You’re crazy!”

that’s all i got :3 hope u enjoyed <33

[krahk]

Blood for Ruin

Part One : Part Two

Masterlist

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

Part Three

(Or Alastor learns it’s never to late learn your kinks, hell welcomes all)

18+ from here on out to be safe.

Warnings: entering smutty content near the end, written by an amateur. No smutty smut, but it’s beginning from here on out. I am opening that can of worms.

__

You really hoped you were harder to kill in hell, because these people simply had no sense of preservation of life in them. First full day in hell and you had been invited to a BDSM club, thrown off of a roof and hid from gunfire trying to keep the creepy little janitor from jumping into the crossfires. Trust exercises were not supposed to be life threatening, but the mania of the day had certainly made it harder for you to focus on your situation for the time being. Back at the hotel you gratefully accepted a drink from Husk as the group recapped the day they had just gone through. For a bunch of terrible sinners, they were pretty alright. Like when you were all alive, the group of you was simply trying to get by day by day.

You had learned that Angel was a porn star in Hell, Nifty’s kinks were both frightening and dangerous (mostly to her, but still), Husk you were certain liked nobody, and Vaggie was an aggressive woman who had no issues throwing you through the fire if she thought it would make you a better person on the other side.

You supposed there were worse people to attach yourself to given your situation. Part of you was grateful that you landed in a place that offered you a place to stay, food to eat with a generous host who made sure you were dressed and comfortable all around. Even though you had processed your death fairly quickly (that was normal, according to Angel) you did know that you could have it so much worse and be dealing with everything alone.

Grateful that everyone was heading to their own quarters when Alastor had returned with the little egg creatures, you made sure to avoid hovering your attention in his direction and ran upstairs after Angel, who had the room next to yours. While passing by Alastors room he had pointed a finger towards his open mouth and gagged, to which you could only respond with a forced chuckle. You waved goodnight to him as you opened your room door and found yourself falling onto the bed and passing out before your head even hit the pillow. Day one, over.

After a few weeks of Hell, you had settled into a comfortable routine. In the mornings you would join the others in the lounge for breakfast and coffee, you would all chat and discuss the next redemption plans before everyone would set off on their own plans for the day if Charlie and Vaggie didn’t have an exercise planned. You still had not left the safety of the building, knowing from your first day that it was strictly mean streets out there. Charlie had grabbed you a few more articles of clothing to complete your meagre wardrobe, and you were not picky in the slightest so you accepted your role as a doll she could dress up. She had picked a lot of modest, but cute A-line dresses, shorter skirts with turtlenecks, a suit - she had a clear preference of clothing seeing as your new items closely resembled her and Vaggie’s overall style. One thing you were grateful for was that the shoes she chose you didn’t require you to wear socks. Like your arms, your legs were black from the end of your limbs until your joint, where the black faded after it passed the knee. So it always looked like you were wearing little stockings. In your time in Hell getting comfortable in your new skin you had also discovered a scattering of black and white freckles on your shoulders and upper arms. You found yourself to be one of the luckier sinners, because your feet were still feet. Many souls like yours had come to hell with hooved feet, but you received a tail instead, which was not quite as common.

Angel had been your link to the world outside, he was constantly on his phone and for some lucky reason the underworld had a similar system of communication like earth. Cell phones, social media, advertisements, etc. It was truly not a far cry from what you knew. He had given you an older phone of his to use, the hotel members being the only contacts in your phone (minus Nifty & Alastor, for which you were grateful) and the two of you texted on the daily, him quickly becoming the closest member of the group to you. Even though Husk was the most recent being to die aside from you, Angel was the most willing to adapt to change. He effortlessly weaved through this complicated lifestyle with ease. He was confident, smart, and an all around great guy. If he would consider easing up on the partying and perhaps manage a way to distance himself from his industry he really would be an excellent candidate for redemption.

Alastor had still not spoken with you since your initial confrontation. Not that you were complaining but it was getting to the point that Angel had noticed his distance from you. It was if he was deliberately avoiding any chance that the two of you would end up in the same room. When asked about the radio, you found that even if you wanted to mention what you thought were unimportant details of it, your tongue snapped to the bottom of your mouth, preventing words from coming out. You had lamely said it was a motel item that got caught in your descent and you really had no idea why it followed you. Charlie had simply declared that possessions must occasionally follow a soul, but usually souls don’t fall in a space with decent people who won’t steal your stuff. It was simply considered an anomaly and after the first week thankfully people seemed to forget about it.

And while Alastor might have prevented you from mentioning anything to anyone about the symbols that were in the radio, it didn’t prevent you from researching the symbols. Charlie had a very extensive collection of books in the hotel library that you had been working your way through. Since you had no job and minimal expectations, you were sifting through the books quickly. And because Angel had left in a rush for a shoot earlier in the morning, your recent hobby started a few hours earlier than usual. You had made your way through a large portion of the ‘Historical Literature’ section before hearing a commotion outside of the library. With your ears being so sensitive it was easy for you to not make a sound while honing in on what was being said. It was more Husk and Angel bickering, but this one sounded worse than usual, ending with Angel storming out of the hotel and Vaggie immediately harping on Husk about his behaviour.

You shot a quick message to Angel by text, getting a read notification but no response. Oof, he was really in a mood. You sent another one telling him you were there when he was ready and a heart emoji, which resulted in a heart being sent in return. Husk had followed him shortly after so you weren’t too worried about how his night would go.

You had started sifting through the next category of books, which appeared to be something of a ‘Human Magic’ section. It appeared to start right at the beginning of humanity’s creation, which meant this was another hefty subject you’d have to filter through. You were only going shelf by shelf because you had started with ‘Runework’, ‘Salem Witchcraft’ and ‘Hell’s Overlords’, hoping to find the information right away with no luck.

Your phone vibrated and you absentmindedly opened the message from Angel, and your stomach dropped.

‘I need help.’

You tried calling and the phone went straight to voicemail, disconnecting as his mailbox was full. You shot out of the library and looked around. With Husk going after Angel, was he in trouble as well? Damn you wished Husk carried a phone. Vaggie and Charlie were also absent from the hotel or at least very very quiet with whatever they were doing.

You decided there was no time to hesitate and you went out the front door, running straight for the Vee’s district in an attempt to remember every bar that Angel had mentioned frequenting in the past. He was a famous porn star, surely someone had noticed the giant spider passing by them on the street. It wasn’t as if he was capable of being a wallflower after all.

You had started into a light jog as soon as you hit main street, the people out and about making you nervous. You were grateful that your new form allowed you to run without any difficulty, the benefits of being a deer hybrid being in your favour today. You ran quickly towards the bright district, making it there in a short period of time, and merging with a larger crowd entering. It seemed dangerous making it obvious that you were out on your own. You were due for trouble after all, it had been a fairly calm life since keeping your distance from him.

The group you had followed went straight into an arcade bar. Great. You were certain that Angel wasn’t here, games weren’t his thing but the giant windows peering into the establishment made it easy to recognize that he wasn’t present. You had made it a few blocks before trying to call Angel again, with it still failing. During your second attempt you noticed that there were a few people heading your way on the sidewalk so you shrunk over to the edge of the building to give them room to move past you.

But you found yourself bumping into one of them who deliberately stayed in your path, and when you looked at their face you came eye to eye with a wolf demon smiling and growling down at you. You glanced around you and noticed that you were surrounded by two additional wolves and your back pressed against the wall behind you in an attempt to create some space away from them.

“Hey baby,” The one you ran into started, “Eager for a good time? Can’t keep your hands off of me?” The other two laughed, one even licking his lips before his friend continued. ”You look cute, how about we find some privacy?” He stepped towards you with his arm reaching for yours and you took a step away, right into the other wolf. Shit. The three laughed at you shoving the one aside and walking backwards to try and make a gap, but they were advancing quickly. Panicking, you threw the only thing you had on you - the phone - with which the corner smacked one of them squarely in the eye, making him shout in pain. Another jumped at you and you quickly dodged his lunge by bracing a hand on his head and leaping over him to start into a sprint once your feet hit the ground.

Note for next time: Heels are super cute, but super terrible to run in, because they caught up to you quickly, despite your quick escape. One wolf immediately punched you in the face, causing your nose to have a minor explosion of blood shoot out of it, which made your brain rattle.

”You might just be cuter like this,” One guy said, pulling your arm so hard you lost your balance and was dragging behind him as the three took you into the closest alleyway. “We could have had a nice night, but you had to go and fuck it up. Now you’ll get what’s coming to ya.” The one who held your arm roughly lifted you back to your feet and slammed you against the brick wall, making your head hit it just as hard. It was getting hard to think about a way out, your head was so foggy.

“Hey this bitch was texting Angel Dust!” One of the guys said, probably the one who had her phone thrown to his face. “She’s got to be a dirty slut! Have you seen any of his shit? It’s messed up man, we got ourselves a wild one here!” He cheered, whooping with the other demon who wasn’t holding you up. You made eye contact with your captor and he was growling low with a sinister smile on his face.

”Lucky us! Prime meat for free? Baby I’ll make your night better than anyone you’ve ever been w-“ his words were cut off, as his neck suddenly had a black tentacle wrapped around it, squeezing so hard his eyeballs were protruding out of their sockets. You fell to your ass, legs bent on the ground, hands trying to steady your swaying head. Looking over you saw the bodies of the other wolves, already separated into a few pieces, some appendages being swung around by the tentacles.

Looking forward you noticed who came to your rescue. It was Alastor, and he was pissed. Thankfully not at you, although you certainly had a concussion so there was a chance you were misinterpreting the situation. He said something to your assaulter about how to be a gentleman and ‘perhaps he would discover how to treat a lady in his next life’ before all the tentacles had wrapped about his and his friends bodies before disappearing with them into the ground. Your surroundings now quiet except for your heavy breathing, you watched Alastor take even, steady steps towards your fallen form.

“Well now! Haven’t you got yourself in a bit of trouble, hmm?” He taunted, entirely too chipper. Closing one eye and squinting the other to avoid seeing double, you noticed that he had blood on his face, under his nose, which you apparently pointed at, because he raised a brow and questioned it.

”Blood on your face.” You said with a bit of a slur, “S’little bit here.” And pointed to your own nose, fingers getting coated in blood. His hand reached up to his face and he touched his nose, only for blood to begin to flow from it. Shocked, he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at it while he frowned at you before offering a second handkerchief to you. You shook your head, well tried too, and said something about being sleepy.

”Now, now, sleeping after a head injury is most certainly bad for you!” He chirped, putting his handkerchiefs away now that his face was clean. He leaned over to inspect your injuries, taking note of your head and nose specifically.

“Care to explain why you are wandering about on your own my dear? Itching for a second death?” He asked in a condescending manner. “Quite foolish of you really, to come without an escort - why you are quite lucky I happened to be around, darling!” He waved his hand about in a dramatic fashion before offering his hand to you, lifting you up. On your feet you dusted off what rubble had got on you, found your phone settled on the ground a few feet away and began to try and walk to it only to find that your balance was way off course. With one hand holding your head you reached for your phone, noticing new texts from Angel.

‘with my script later, are you free?’ Followed with: ‘Sorry babe! That first message didn’t send all the way, love ya xoxo’

For fuck sakes.

”Hmm?”Alastor hummed, looking down at your phone, reading the messages. “Oh-ho! So you were on a rescue mission were you? Noble indeed, considering your naivety and lack of knowledge of any part of Hell outside the hotel.”

You shot him a nasty glance. “I was worried.” Augh. Pathetic response.

“Very stupid thing to do, really.” Picking at one of his claws, attempting to be indifferent. “Very stupid indeed, especially since I have just had an unfortunate revelation.”

”Hmm?” You responded, still trying to get the throbbing in your head to settle down. “I know it was stupid,” agreeing with him made him in a good mood, Husk had told you, “But I had to try and find him, I don’t think he has many people to depend on.”

He gave you a look of contempt. He really did not care for anyone other than himself.

“You and I need to have a chat darling.” His eyes narrowed as he wrapped a hand around your upper arm, painfully putting pressure on a new bruise from the previous baddie. He dragged you alongside him, holding you so close to him you could feel the heat of his body through his jacket. “Say nothing until we make it to the hotel my dear, there are always eyes on us out here.” He gestured with his microphone cane in a wide sweep, indicating literally every where could be listening. You obeyed him by not responding which kept Alastor in a good mood during the walk home.

However upon arrival, he dragged your sorry ass through his shadow travel again, but thankfully to your room. More specifically your bathroom. He gestured for you to sit down, which you did on the edge of the tub, and watched him gather a pathetic amount of first aid. He removed his coat and rolled up the sleeve of his right hand, almost all the way up to the elbow. You noticed his arms were covered in scars that stood out from his black skin that was similar to your own pattern, except fading away before the joint of his elbow. The scars were all thin and bright white, a stark contrast. However what he was looking at intensely was a large bruise that had formed right below his elbow, right above the fade of his black skin. He then turned to you and grabbed your right arm and lined up the two. You had a much darker bruise that matched his. Weird. Didn’t Pentious say that no one had landed a hit on Alastor before? And that a small piece of coat was all he himself had managed to get? So how did those stupid wolves get up on him? And when?

The room had a massive chill fill the air as Alastor processed what he was thinking. What was he thinking? Could you talk now? Should you? You should at least thank him.

”Thank-“

”Quiet.” he interrupted. No filter on his voice for that one. Just a deep, sharp command.

Your lips tightened into a thin line and you nodded despite your killer headache. He released your arm and went back to the counter. With his jacket off you could see that he, too, had a small deer tail on his backside. It was red and black, much like his hair. It was probably the only cute thing about him, and you’d die before you said that out loud. Alastor came back to you with a warm wet cloth and some antiseptic. He instructed you to wipe up the blood on your face and he wiped a few of your more surface scrapes that were on your legs and knees. You narrowed your own eyes, why on earth was he doing this? It was as if he was trying to memorise every little injury you had received. Once you felt as if you had removed all the dried blood from your face you braced both hands on either side of you as you watched Alastor tend to your wounds. When he was quiet and focused he wasn’t too terribly frightening, but in the way that a poisonous snake might be. Obviously dangerous, possibly venomous, and could certainly kill you given the chance, but still captivating to watch. He released a huff of air when he was done checking out your head, just a bump he said, he moved to your nose. He had gently grasped your chin and moved your head from side to side, where he traced some of the worst damage with his free hand.

“Not broken, my dear, but guaranteed to have a couple of black eyes by this evening.” He announced. “You shall not be leaving your room until you have healed or found a way to cover those up.” Man was he bossy. He put his coat back on and leaned into the mirror to check his own face before tapping the floor with his microphone for your attention. His shadows enveloped the small room, and it was as if you were sitting on a void of nothingness, large symbols hovering around you in green. And just as quick as the dark arrived it disappeared with another few taps from his cane.

“Preventative measures darling, we cannot have anyone listening in on us.”

”Uhh…okay? Okay. Why?” Why are you so creepy?

”Creepy keeps the fear alive darling.” Well shit, that last bit was said out loud. Stupid concussion. “I think it is time to discuss the Radio, because you have proven to be a thorn in my side that I cannot simply be rid of with my usual methods.”

You nod along with each word slowly and focus on the last bit - the usual methods? “Do you mean eating people?” the statement escaped your loose lips, feeling drunk from the head injury .

His smile turned even more wicked if that was a possibility, eyes and teeth glowing like dim lamps. “Among other things…” He trailed off, closing his eyes and being sure to cock his head up in a very proud manner. He seemed pleased you had heard some of the more…graphic methods of dealing with other demons. His cool composure only lasted a moment. Once he opened his eyes, his mood was icy, eyes sharp and narrowed as he came a little closer without overwhelming your personal space and spoke bluntly, radio voice effect gone, “It appears as if you have linked our souls into an agreement that even I am unable to break.” He stared into your eyes, his fury palpable. You frowned in response out of both confusion and fear.

“What do you mean? I don’t even know who you are! I still don’t know who you are, how can we possibly be…like that…?” You ended lamely, hands wildly gesturing between the two of you. He had surely made a mistake, because this sort of thing just didn’t happen. Besides, you had only met him after death, so there was simply a misunderstanding. You shook your head in denial, causing blood to leak out of one nostril.

“A-hem” He said, getting your focus back on his face. His nose, same nostril, now had a slow trail of blood trickling out. He stood straight and a handkerchief appeared in his hand to dap his face while you grabbed some bathroom tissue off the roll beside you. It was hard to meet his eyes as it was obvious he was upset with you.

Attempting to end the silence, you spoke up. “Did you get hit as well? Your nose has been bleeding just as much as mine.” His eyebrows arched so high it was lost within his hairline, the stretched skin the only visual evidence of his reaction.

“No. I do not get hit.” He scoffed. “This is a result of the damage you incurred today my dear.”

Your lack of reaction, compounded with the cold molasses that was currently your brain, made him sigh and begin his explanation.

”The Radio was mine as a young man. It never worked quite right, so I was constantly repairing it. But this was before my Radio Show! So fixing instead of purchasing new was all I could do at the time. I would have kept it forever if I could, it was one of the only things my mother had given me on her own.” He had started picking under his middle finger with his thumbnail, trying to appear indifferent to his admission. You caught on to the way his voice softened when his mother was mentioned but you weren’t inviting death over tonight so you kept a straight face.

“Just before my career took off, I had been dabbling with some other gifts that came from my mothers side. Her ancestors were practitioners of creole magic, something that I am familiar with, but not proficient enough to use in my day to day.” Eyes back to you, he continued on. “The symbols in the radio were a deal I made with it, naively, early on in my practising. I was certain I would become a radio star, first of my kind, and well, sometimes we do questionable things while drinking.” He rolled his eyes at that, resulting in a smirk on your own face. “A friend and I had quite a night out! She knocked my radio over and the back panel came off. I cut myself on a stray piece of metal inside, cutting myself quite deep-“ He opened his palm with the scar to stare into it. “Beyond my better judgement I wrote, in my own blood, symbols I was not familiar with and apparently created unfinished magic that was only completed and sealed when your blood went over my runes.”

Still confused, you gave him a look that caused him to roll his eyes at you, as if you were the malicious force at play here and continued.

”What was a foolish act of an immature man at the end of a bottle of rye has now tethered our souls together. Akin to,” he shuddered, “Soulmates. However where fate might have chosen different paths for our souls, we have become united through dark magic powered behind the power I hold now, which is significantly stronger than when I wrote the symbols within the machine.” His smile was tight, still present as always, but certainly not the smile of a happy man.

But wait - “I don’t have any magic though, so why…?” You started, trying to steer the conversation away from the dreaded admission of the demon.

“Your being has little to no effect, my dear. The deal I was attempting to make with the Radio relied on magic supplied by me and me alone, as one cannot make a Radio respond to such a request.” One hand came up to his temple to put pressure on it, like you would do when you had a headache. “Foolish, foolish man.” He said, quickly and quietly, your ears picking it up as if he made no attempt to remain unheard. “And because the deal was made in blood, with the same instrument, on the same hand, even - I suspect that blood is our tether. Some link love or minds, so they can reciprocate feelings and thoughts to a person of their choice. And due to my being well, dead, the only thing we were able to link was our blood. In layman’s terms, darling - you bleed, I bleed. Your blood rushes to an impact, my blood rushes to an impact. You blush and, augh, etc. Do you understand?”

”Yes. But that honestly sounds ridiculous, and would be hard to believe if I didn’t die and land in hell a month ago. But I will admit, my knowledge of creole magic is absolutely zero, straight up nothing, so this was honestly just an unfortunate…mistake, that we can possibly undo?” You said with hesitancy at the end, but Alastor shook his head before you were even done speaking.

“I have looked into it extensively, and I am afraid it is not something we can separate - not even with Death. You die, I die. And I have far too much unfinished business to bow down to death just yet.”

“Oh, super duper!” You replied, chipper like Charlie. His face dropped at your tone, frowning down at you.

“No, not ‘super duper’, finger quotes around his snarky repetition, “Quite terrible for me actually. You have become my greatest liability. I am not worried I will get either of us in any kind of danger, but as we have both learned this evening, you are incapable of even walking on your own without getting into trouble.” His microphone now bracing both of his hands in front of his body.

Well excuse you for being a basic, simple individual without knowing everything about everything in the whole wide world, and also not knowing anything about the thing that Alastor told you not to talk about? This guy was an asshole on so many levels that you missed when he just left you alone.

”Well, I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me, because it was totally my plan for this to happen.” Giving him a deadpanned look that made him smile tighter out of…well, you didn’t really know. He wasn’t that easy to read when he wasn’t angry.

“That is quite enough funny business for today, I am afraid that your galavanting around Hell will stop immediately. You will stay within the confines of this hotel. You will stay in your room during the extermination-“

”This is bullshit! I am a free person to do whatever! You can’t control me like this-“ He was growing again, filling the small bathroom with his demonic figure.

“Foolish girl, I can do whatever I want with you!” He growled, tendrils coming up from the shadowed ground to wrap themselves around your calves and wrists, another wrapping itself in your hair to control your head, forcing you to look right into his demonic eyes.

“I have been kind, considering your unfortunate and pathetic self has been on my nerves since the moment you arrived. You are a senseless creature who-“ he choked on his words, pausing as his smile lowered. You were breathing much harder now, and suddenly it made sense why you were so unbothered by the BDSM club Angel brought the group to. This was turning you on, being helpless and controlled by such a force like Alastor. Still staring at each other face to face, you could see a blush start to spread like a brand across his cheeks. His breath began to match yours, and you shifted your ass that was still seated on the bathtub edge in a vain attempt to get comfortable. In record time you had become wet from the situation. You were turned on, girl, and he was feeling the same effects. Wherever the blood rushes was no lie.

You started to laugh at the situation, manically as you realised what had happened. He was still frozen in place, clearly unsure of how to proceed. He needed to teach you a lesson, to know who was in charge of this unwanted union but obviously this was doing nothing but cause your blood to rush to your cunt, because he felt a pressure almost unfamiliar to him below his navel. He was disgusted that you were causing this reaction from him, he was an elevated creature with no need for carnal pleasures. And now you were laughing at him.

The tendrils released from your person so quickly that the movement caused you to slide back into the tub, hitting the bottom of the tub with your ass, but catching the sides with your elbows to prevent your head from smacking backwards. Alastor had returned to his usual form, blush still visible on his cheeks but definitely going away as you yourself had woken from your horny stupor.

“I believe I have made my point. Perhaps I am being far too protective of you, we will have to discuss a proper method to exist in spite of our situation. I expect reasonable suggestions when we revisit the topic. For now I will leave you be, as your injuries have been attended to and have already begun the healing process. Does all of this sound reasonable to you?” Wow, how quickly the tables have turned, being turned on was obviously not something he had thought of dealing with, and it was easy to get you going. Certainly more so now that you had so much more peach fuzz on your skin as a deer hybrid - you were extra sensitive to any touch. Perhaps that was why Alastor disliked physical touch as well? Your smiling of this thought clearly made him wary of you at this moment. He repeated his last sentence again.

”Yes, Alastor, it sounds reasonable. We can talk about a game plan later, and I promise I will try to make it as easy as possible.”

He nodded at your answer and narrowed his eyes with a slight smile, “Good Girl.”

You felt the shocking return of arousal at those words and released a very small “oh!”, and he sank into his shadows immediately, leaving you alone in the bathtub bruised and turned on.

Well, turns out you had a praise kink too.

***********

First three parts is over 11K word wise. I can’t stop writing, I’m at 32k now, I just keep plugging away editing/writing/thinking. I’m so grateful for all the likes and comments.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016

[zorosdimples]

AFLOAT

pairing ༄ zoro x gn!reader

warnings ༄ this fic is slightly suggestive, but it’s more fluffy than anything else. reader has an unspecified devil fruit power, and thus cannot swim. reader wears a bra and underwear, and is implied to be shorter than zoro, but no gendered terms are used.

word count ༄ 1365

notes ༄ my birthday fic for zoro! this has been in my drafts since july. it’s disgustingly self-indulgent and filled with emotion; i hope you all enjoy regardless <3 tagging my beloved wife @redskyvenus!

sitting on the edge of a rickety, weather-worn dock, you dip your legs in crystalline water and try to keep your focus on the depths: on the flora that roots at the bottom and reaches to the sun, on the schools of tiny fish that flit around the underwater jungle.

but your gaze keeps drifting to the man swimming laps around the spring, admiring how gracefully his strong body cuts through the water. the midafternoon sun hotly caresses your skin and presses into you like a greedy lover. you lean back on your palms and tilt your head up to soak in the barefaced sky; its cerulean is only obscured by the dense foliage that surrounds the secluded watering hole.

you’re startled from your thoughts when you feel something tickle your toes. with a strangled yelp you scramble back from the edge of the dock. as you steady your breathing and wonder what the hell just touched you, a familiar mint green head bobs up to the surface.

“asshole!” you shout, slamming your hands down on the wooden planks for emphasis.

zoro laughs heartily as he hoists himself out of the water and plops down next to you. he ruffles his hair, sending sparkling droplets flying in the sunlight, landing on your sweat-damp flesh. your eyes flicker to the rivulets that ebb and flow down his naked torso into a little pool beneath him.

remembering your irritation, you half-heartedly punch his tricep and scold him. “you scared me so badly i could’ve fallen into the spring and drowned. and then you have the audacity to laugh at me?”

zoro snorts at your dramatics, but glosses over them, nudging you with his elbow. “i’d never let you drown and y’know it.”

he’s right, of course. zoro is certainly strong enough to haul you out of the water. you’ve watched him save countless people—friend and foe alike—from a premature grave. you put your feet back in the spring, playfully kicking the swordsman’s leg in the process. the chilled water cools your body but isn’t enough to stop the perspiration that beads at your hairline.

“i miss swimming,” you state, thinking aloud more than speaking to the man beside you. you can’t see the way his lone eye maps your profile as though he will forget the cant of your nose and the curve of your lip once this moment passes.

silence hangs comfortably for several breaths before zoro turns to you with a sly—or is it sinister?—smile. “let me take you swimming.”

you blink at him a few times, face scrunching into the signature scowl he secretly adores.

“did you hit your head on a rock or something? i’m a devil fruit user. it’s physically impossible for me to stay afloat in water, let alone swim in it.”

his grey eye shines with mirth. “just listen for a sec, will ya? no need for insults,” he chuckles as he rises to his feet and offers you a hand.

you appraise him with a quirked brow. you will yourself to push away thoughts of how beautiful he looks bathed in sunbeams and how you wish you could chart the planes of his body the same way you are charting the grand line. how you would see and count and kiss every scar etched in his flesh and tell him how happy you are that he’s alive.

zoro keeps his expectant stance, and you focus on his outstretched hand, just as sinewy and scarred as the rest of his body.

“d’you trust me?” he inquires. his eye searches yours for truth.

“more than i trust myself,” you answer without thinking. the admission is perhaps too honest, but you catch his dimpled smile and feel a little lightheaded as you grasp his rough palm and stand up beside him.

zoro leads you off the dock and around the rocky curves and edges of the spring to an ideal point of entry. you reach a stretch that resembles a beach: a sandy shore that slopes into the water. he starts walking into the spring expecting you to follow, but when you hesitate, he pauses and spins to face you.

“somethin’ the matter?” he asks.

you wordlessly glance down at your jean shorts and white top. “ah,” he says with a curt nod. “you should just wear your swimsuit. don’t wanna get all bogged down with wet clothes.”

you absentmindedly fiddle with the edge of your shirt and clear your throat. “i don’t have a swimsuit, zoro.”

“huh? nami’s always got one on. you’re tellin’ me you don’t?”

you rub your temples. “oh my god, zoro. nami can swim—i can’t. why would i ever wear a swimsuit when i have no intention of swimming?”

after a few tense beats, he tries again. “so—”

you interrupt him with a huff. “just turn around and wait a second. please?”

he obeys without question and you sigh. before you second guess yourself, you undress, leaving your shirt and shorts in a tidy pile on the sand. you’re left in your bra and underwear. they’re nothing special: just a matching cotton set that has seen better days. they are well-worn and comfortable—perfect for the sticky summer heat. you muster all your courage and start walking toward the shoreline.

it’s not a big deal.

it’s just like a swimsuit.

he won’t care.

it’s not as though he likes me.

zoro can hear your tentative steps, faint splashes in the water behind him. he doesn’t turn to you since you never told him he could. once you reach his side, he angles his head so he can look you directly in the eyes, saying, “we’re gonna walk until the water is up to your shoulders. is that okay?” if you saw a rosy flush on his cheeks, you could have easily mistaken it for the heat or too much sun.

“yeah,” you breathe.

the two of you walk in silence. you feel fine until the water hits your waist, then reality sets in. you haven’t been in a body of water since you were a young child. icy panic surges through your veins when you feel a fish graze one of your legs; you instinctively grab zoro’s tanned forearm to steady yourself.

“easy there, s’okay,” he soothes, stopping so you can get your bearings. when you don’t let go of him, he adds a simple “c’mere,” securing a strong arm around your waist. the water is cold, but his touch burns you.

it’s a strange sensation, delving deeper in the clear water, the surface lapping at your shoulders. it’s both nostalgic and new, familiar and foreign, frightening and exciting—even more so with the man holding you.

“see? you’re a pro,” zoro teases, calloused fingers gentle as he squeezes your waist.

usually, you would bite back, but you’re transfixed by the feeling. you attempt to turn and face zoro, but stumble in the process, unused to how clunky your legs feel underwater. he wraps both his arms around your waist, anchoring you to him.

it dawns on you how close you two are: your bodies pressed together, a thin layer of sodden fabric separating your flesh from his. the swordsman hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart is beating. (you would if you weren’t so focused on your own heartbeat.)

you peer up at zoro, hands splayed on his firm pecs, and for the first time, you see unguarded longing in his steel gaze. it’s awkward, the way neither of you can bring yourselves to speak. but leaning into one another feels right.

uncharacteristically, zoro breaks the quiet. his voice is rich—husky—as he asks, “you okay?”

boldly, you link your hands around his sun-warmed neck, thrilled when he doesn’t pull away, but instead sinks into your touch. you stand on your tiptoes, inching closer to him. zoro’s head hangs low, chapped lips parted, breath heavy. he’s so close that you can see him and smell him and hear him and feel him, but you want to taste him, too.

“let’s just stay like this,” you murmur.

and in the middle of the chilly spring, two burning souls stay afloat, zoro’s lips moving, melting, blurring against your own.

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION: Miscellaneous questions about lore and art!

Tried to address some of the shorter ones, thank you everyone as always for the endless patience as I struggle to keep up with my inbox ☠️

On the upside, found a few that went into my "future art prompt" folder ;)

As someone who prefers animals who roam and largely take care of themselves, only coming around to ask for a pet, a cuddle or a treat when they very well want to - cats would be perfect for him.

Thank you! I'm glad you like her. There's plenty of Orin in the horizon, it's unfortunate that I can only draw so fast 😂

Lacking

Thank you so much for giving it a shot! And I very much understand that personal policy LOL

Hopefully between life, art, and plain occasional laziness we will both live long enough to see it finished 😂 at least the bulk of it is set!

And I'm glad you enjoy my writing! Always a pleasant surprise to hear that considering that I have no idea what I'm doing. But I do constantly try to improve it!

[MORE BELOW THE CUT]

Hmm I hadn't considered it, but you never know!

We all know the answer to that already

I really don't think there is DU drow without the DU part. It's a pivotal aspect of his development not only biologically but in regards to all that happened in his life that eventually led him to be the way he is 🤷‍♂️ Like, his name itself is kind of a joke, he really isn't much of a drow to begin with!

His size, features, strength, it's all due to being a Bhaalspawn, and not a matter of winning (or losing, depending of how you look at it) the genetic lottery. Without it, he'd just be some forgettable Jaluk.

Thank you both so much!

I'm surprised about how often I get this question. He does, but he doesn't react to fear conventionally, he just buries it, powers through, or fuels his anger with it. This ask isn't about fears, but I think it applies better here than any summary or bullet-list I could type out. Feel free to draw your own conclusions!

Thank you so much!! And I'm also sorry to anyone who's had a similar experience, because I've certainly gotten a couple of messages about it by now 😂😂😂 listen If I could make him real I would!

It depends! Usually, anywhere between 1-3 days.

(Right now I'm in the process of dropping the smokes and because of that it's become more of a 5 day process, though. Send aid in the form of nicotine patches I Beg)

What do you mean, don't YOU dress like that???

Astarion is far more Bowie to me, personally, but something to think about 🤔

The only sword I've drawn him wielding more than once is the Balduran's Giantslayer from the game itself! Otherwise, they've just been random designs I made up on the spot.

Hello!

I'm pretty positive that by the time Minthara was invited up to be enthralled, the Dark Urge had already been shipped off under Kressa's care - but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

Either way, I don't really read too much into Minthara's and Orin's "relationship" myself, seems like a pretty clear cut victim/tormentor situation, which Orin and DU drow had plenty of prior.

[twit-ter-pa-ted]

Yes, Ma'am. – Final Part

pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x afab!Reader

warnings: flirting, kissing :O, swearing, reader lore, mentioned events from the anime/manga

overview: 5 times you accidentally run into sanji, and 1 time you plan to meet; or – 5 times you rejected Sanji and 1 time you finally gave in.

a/n: this has about an 8.3k word count! ⊙⁠.⁠☉ i tried revising and making it shorter and wound up with more words instead,, anyways, eat up! <3

p.s. requests are open for anyone interested!

part one — part two

You drank your fifth bottle of beer despite not having enough Berries for even one. It had been a bad day – the worst, you think. It had been less than a year since you started as a sea merchant, and here you were now, not a Berry to your name thanks to a band of thieves. Thankfully, they left most of your products alone, only grabbing what they needed.

You tugged your father's jacket closer to your body and pulled out the stack of wanted posters that a News Coo bird had dropped off for the town you docked at. Most were new faces, some were pirates whose bounties increased.

You had asked for another bottle when the bartender questioned how you would be paying for it. You didn't answer. He rolled his eyes and muttered as he moved onto the customer a few seats away from you.

As you looked through the bounties, someone's booming voice chuckled as they entered the pub.

"Hey! Bartender, give us your finest liquor. Today is a day for celebration!" You turned to glare at the cause of loud noise when you realized at first glance that he looked familiar. You quickly whipped your head around to look at the posters again, shuffling through them.

Just as you found the one of the pirate that had just entered the pub, someone snatched it from your hand.

You turned to find that you had caught the attention of the pirate, Nepto Edda.

You saw the poster long enough to know his bounty would be more than enough to pay for your bill and get you back up on your feet.

"Looky here, men!" He chuckled again, showing his wanted poster to his crew with pride. They laughed as well.

Edda turned to you. "What are you planning to do with these, girl? You shouldn't be messing in these parts of the turf."

He slapped the posters off your hand, causing them to scatter on the pub floor. The bartender was too intimidated to reprimand the pirate.

Despite your recent loss, you held your chin high. You turned to completely face him.

"I'd love to hear you say that after I turn you in to the Navy."

He laughed before he swung to hit you, which you quickly avoided, sliding off your seat in the process. One of his crew was about to reach for his sword when you kicked his hand down and took the sword for yourself.

He and his crew kept his distance as you held the sword between you and them. At the last second, you sensed someone behind you. Before you could turn around, their blade was to your neck, their arm around your waist to keep you in place.

You clenched your jaw hearing their captain chuckle.

Your arms quickly fell to your side as a plan came to mind, though you were surprised to find the other person at the bar jumping into action.

He had taken one of his three swords and sliced at one of Edda's crew, catching everyone's attention.

You took the chance to slice the person behind you by their leg, the blade barely grazing your neck as you got away and sliced towards their chest.

The rest of the fight was a blur with the rush of adrenaline, though you had taken out your hidden gun at some point and pointed it to Edda.

His chuckle was nervous now, unlike how it was full and confident just moments ago. Who wouldn't be nervous, being at the mercy of a gun and a katana?

"Hey, back off, he's mine." The man that had jumped into the fight was first to speak.

You let out a surprised exclamation. The man certainly had the audacity. "How is he yours? I found him out and did the hard work, I didn't even need your help."

"I've done more damage to him than you have. It's only right that I'm the one to take him in," the green-haired man justified.

"Bullshit. I don't abide by that logic."

"Well, that's not my problem."

"I need to pay for my bill," you reasoned.

"So do I," he retorted.

"Please, it's both on the house if you just leave," the bartender, already sick of the bickering, pleaded with the pair of you.

Still, you continued even as the bartender spoke. "You wanna take this outside?" You said in a flurry of anger.

"Fine." He started to head out. You watched as he did, hitting Edda's temple with the butt of your gun to knock him out. You tied the pirate up before you quickly followed.

You settled right outside the pub, readying yourselves for a duel.

You recognized from his Three-Swords Style that you had challenged Roronoa Zoro, the notorious pirate hunter. Still, you did not prevail, taking out your own sword and placing your hand on your gun.

Before taking on the business in the seas, you had mastered the skill of swordsmanship and marksmanship, at least to your own extent.

"No guns," he announced.

"What, afraid you'll be at a disadvantage?" You knew he could most likely deflect bullets just as you could, but that couldn't stop you from taunting him.

"Fine. Do whatever you'd like."

Still, you obeyed, crouching and throwing your gun to the side. You instead equipped brass knuckles onto your now free hand.

You were now both ready, observing each other, waiting to see who would be first to offend and defend. Getting impatient, Zoro charged towards you.

His right hand rose to strike, which you quickly blocked with your sword. He pressured his sword forward, grunting when you didn't even seem to struggle upon keeping his blade away from yourself. You deflected it and stepped away as the blade swiped downwards, leaving a trail of dust as its trajectory hit the ground.

Your duel had caught the attention of a crowd, though it slowly depleted in size as your fight went on for hours.

Though you were exhausted, sweating and panting, the fight went on. You had both grazed each other multiple times, your knuckles even inflicting bruises onto his face, but neither cut a wound too deep into each other. The pub was closing and the moon had long risen by the time the bartender from earlier called your fight off, announcing it as a draw.

Reluctantly, and because the bartender had run his mouth off with scoldings, you split the bounty and parted ways. You never saw him again after that, and you were glad you never did.

* * * * * *

Once is an accident.

After leaving Baratie, you pulled out your map to head for Cocoyashi Village. It was under Arlong's reign but he allowed you to make trades with the village. As long as he got a share of your profit, of course.

You arrived every midweek to trade with the fruits they bore, most specifically the tangerines one villager named Nojiko grew. In return, you would give a few of the fruits and vegetables you traded from other villages. You would also give a few Berries to Genzo to help them pay for their monthly tributes.

For sailors and pirates of the sea, at least those with common sense, fruits and vegetables were essential to have on board to avoid getting scurvy. Naturally, you had to get the best of products to have a greater profit.

It took a few days for you to arrive. Though it was night when you did, the village seemed livelier than you had ever seen before.

Genzo greeted you as you docked your ship. He seemed to be in a bit of a drunken stupor as he called your name with joy. "Welcome!"

"Genzo, what's the occasion? I'm surprised Arlong let you have any fun," you remarked as you placed an arm around his shoulders to support him.

"You came at the right time! This marks the start of a new age in this village. We've been set free!" He announced, your eyes widening in disbelief.

"Coco's free?" You questioned for confirmation.

Genzo nodded with the grin that has remained on his face since he began to approach you. You had never seen him smile this much.

"This kid named Luffy beat Arlong into a pulp!" He then chuckled.

"Luffy?" You repeated. Genzo laughed again.

"And he had the nerve to challenge Marine's Vice Admiral Garp!" He said through his laughter.

"He fought Garp?"

Genzo nodded enthusiastically. He had begun leading you into the village at some point. "The Marines left without arresting them, though. Even if Garp could have completely beaten the kid."

"The village has been celebrating for four days now. Especially those pirates, they never seem to get tired!"

Just as he said it, you caught sight of Zoro sound asleep with a bottle of beer by his side.

"Oh. I guess it's just their captain that has endless stamina," Genzo concluded.

"Nojiko is resting, you ought to wait until tomorrow comes before you can trade."

You nodded in understanding.

"Have you eaten yet? You should try tonight's dish – tangerine garlic chicken." He grabbed you by the shoulders and led you to where the food was.

"Oh? Sounds interesting." You turned to face the person serving the food, your heart jumping in surprise as you did.

"Sanji!" Genzo had walked away to conversate with Luffy.

He had been keeping his eyes on the pan of cooked chicken as he scooped up a serving, his head suddenly whipping up to look at you as you called his name in surprise.

His eyes lit up as he called your name as well. "What are you doing here?" He was too shocked to tease you with something along the lines of, "how did you know where to find me?"

"I'm here for business, I trade for tangerines and other fruits with Nojiko. What are you doing here? What happened at Baratie?" You asked with confusion.

He shook his head and smiled, scooping a serving larger than usual to put on your plate. "I was, but I quit. I was too good for that place, anyway. I joined a pirate crew."

"You joined Luffy's crew?"

"You know him?"

You shrugged. "He pestered me at Baratie."

He chuckled as he looked away to find his captain, shaking his head in disapproval. "That idiot."

Usopp suddenly approached them, "Say, Sanji, have you eaten? Maybe you should take a break," he recommended, and something in his eyes told Sanji he was not taking 'no' for an answer.

"Hi, nice to see you again, miss Trader." He held his ground and stood with confidence beside Sanji as he greeted you with a grin.

"Likewise, I suppose, Usopp."

Usopp's confidence and courage seemed to crumble in less than a second as he cowered behind Sanji. "She remembers my name…!"

You fought an amused smile off your lips. "I'm not an ally to the Marines, there's nothing to worry about."

He didn't seem at all convinced, yet decided to trust you anyway. "A-Anyway, you should take that break, Sanji. Don't worry about the food, I'll handle it."

Sanji looked at him for a few seconds, almost reluctant, before taking a plate for himself.

"Make sure Luffy doesn't get near it – the village needs it more than he does, especially when he's had five servings and he's still starving," he instructed as he scooped himself a serving and took utensils for himself and for you. He handed you a fork and a spoon.

"Yes, sir!" Usopp saluted the chef before the latter gave him a grateful smile and began to walk away, a hand gently on your back to lead you along.

"What really happened?" There was silence on his end for a moment, so you spoke again. "I went back to Baratie the other day."

He chuckled. "Missed me that bad?"

You rolled your eyes yet a smile was on your lips. "The owner said you'd left. Figured that since I was a sea merchant, I'd be bound to run into you. That's all he said."

"Well, the old man's an idiot, he knows I'm headed for the Grand Line."

"You are?" You asked before taking a bite out of the chicken.

"Good?" He asked for your feedback.

You closed your eyes. You hated raising men's egos but you also couldn't lie. "It's the best I've had," it almost pained you to admit.

He couldn't help but chuckle at how cute you looked as you blurted it out, almost as if it were against your will that you did.

A somewhat comfortable silence fell between the two of you.

"I left Baratie because I wanted to find the All Blue." He looked at you and, as expected, you gave him a puzzled look. "It's a place where all the Blue Seas meet. You can find fish from all seas there."

You hummed with interest and intrigue. "Sounds like quite a chef's paradise."

He only smiled at you for a moment. He liked how you understood how he felt in an instant. "Exactly."

"So you're setting off to the Grand Line?"

"That's where we're headed. We just came here to get Nami." Your brows raised in surprise as you looked around.

"This is Nami's hometown?" He nodded.

"Turns out she joined the Arlong Pirates to buy her village back," he explained, "He set the price to a hundred million Berries then cheated her when she was about to reach that goal."

You couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief. "A hundred million?"

"It's hard to believe, isn't it?" Sanji laughed as well just thinking about how Nami collected a hundred million Berries in eight years. "Luffy beat the shit out of Arlong for that. Now we have our navigator back, we're headed for the Grand Line."

You could listen to him talk for hours, and so you did just that. You and Sanji talked for the rest of the night. Next thing you knew, Nojiko had awoken and approached you to trade.

Sanji helped load the crates of tangerines onto your boat, despite him usually refusing to use his hands for anything other than cooking.

"Come with me," he offered as Genzo loaded the second crate onto your boat. "Come with us."

"The Straw Hat Pirates?" You asked for confirmation. He nodded. Genzo left the two of you to talk.

You smiled and shook your head as your eyes avoided his gaze. "I'm a merchant, not a pirate."

"We're headed for the Grand Line."

"All the more reason not to go. That place is treacherous," you retorted.

Sanji suddenly had a cocky smile. "You'll miss me."

You matched his smile. "I'll live."

"You'll miss my cooking," he rephrased. You rolled your eyes again, unable to respond.

Sanji, dejected, forced a smile despite the rejection. "If your mind's set."

You only watched as he departed, hands in his pockets as he watched his feet with every step he took. You, too, watched his feet as he left. You felt like you should be doing something to get him to stay – maybe change your mind and come with him, become a pirate.

It was the first time you had made a real connection with anyone. Even before entering the business of a sea merchant, you never really clicked with anyone, platonically nor romantically. Sure, there were people who were there, but they never really felt right.

As you watched his feet, you looked curiously as they stopped, then turned around. Your eyes travelled up to his eyes when he turned.

"Maybe I'll come see you once we've left the Grand Line – once I've found the All Blue."

He spoke as if he was confident that he would leave the Grand Line. You knew the chance was small, but you decided to hope that he would leave the Grand Line, too.

"I'll look forward to it."

* * * * * *

Twice is a coincidence.

"Zoro, what's the deal with you and that merchant from Baratie?" Usopp had been the one to ask this time. The whole crew was curious, they just didn't want to pry, but the questioning and the lack of answers was getting to everyone.

"Please, just answer them. The asking is getting irritating," Nami complained as she looked at him.

They were currently strolling along a village they had come across while on the way to the Grand Line. They decided to stop by only with the purpose of buying supplies for the kitchen, yet everyone decided to come along. Everyone reckoned they needed a walk around for what they had gone through in just less than a month – what they had gone through ever since they became a part of Luffy's crew.

Zoro rolled his eyes and gave in. He told them the story of how he and you fought for a bounty, only for it to end in a draw.

Sanji smacked him upside the head as he finished telling the story of your first interaction. "You don't have a single ounce in you that's a gentleman, do you? How dare you fight her?"

"She was the one who challenged me," Zoro defended himself, facing the blonde.

"That's not an excuse." Sanji faced the moss head.

"She pissed me off."

"She had every right to after you tried claiming her find."

"You wanna take this somewhere else?!"

"Hey! Don't you dare fight or I swear, I'll knock you both out myself," Nami threatened.

At that, both men went silent. As they both turned to face the main street forward again, both pairs of eyes landed on you.

Sanji called your name again, in confusion and in surprise.

You hadn't heard, as you were in the market where all voices overlapped with each other.

"Oh, it's the bounty hunter!" Luffy exclaimed with a grin.

"Shh…! She might hear us!" Usopp covered his captain's mouth as they all kept their eyes on you.

"Her again?" Zoro groaned in frustration.

"Shut up, moss head." You were picking out fruits, picking the best ones then asking for their prices.

As Sanji watched you, a cigarette between his lips, he saw your eyebrows furrow, your eyes darting between the fruits in your hand and the merchant. Upon seeing the conversation begin to get heated, he quickly made his way to you without second thought.

The rest of the crew watched as Sanji spoke to you, still with the cigarette in his mouth. You had been surprised at his seemingly sudden appearance, though your anger quickly returned.

You spoke to him, though the crew wasn't near enough to hear exactly what you said, but all they knew was it was enough to rile their cook up as well.

Luffy scratched his head as he watched you and Sanji argue with the merchant who began to sweat anxiously. Sanji had approached you with the purpose of diffusing the tension, though he seemed to only add to it as he, too, became frustrated with the merchant and his product's pricing. His cigarette almost fell from how much he was yelling at the merchant.

"They're a perfect match," he concluded. The others agreed with hums.

"Zoro, you said you fought and it ended in a draw?" Luffy affirmed, his first mate nodding.

"Great! She's joining the crew."

"What?!" Everyone exclaimed at his quick decision making.

* * * * * *

Sanji found that the village they were now docked at was your hometown. You visited every once in a while to check in on your parents, who Sanji offered to cook for as the Straw Hat Pirates resided in your home for the day to rest.

You were one of the first to receive their captain's wanted poster, being considered an ally of the Marine despite you denying it time and time again. It was yet to be shown to the public, but you knew it was bound to appear in newspapers. It wasn't often that someone's first bounty would exceed the former highest's by 10 million Berries.

You would depart the next day and so would they, just in time to avoid having your parents seen as associates of the pirates.

Sanji offered you to join them again, telling you the captain's decision to invite you along as well.

You declined, again.

Sanji could see in your eyes that you wanted to, and not just because you wanted to join him. There was another reason that wasn't there the first time he gave you an invitation. Still, he knew he was in no position to pry.

You parted ways once again despite the both of you knowing you wanted the exact same thing.

* * * * * *

Third time's a pattern.

Only a few weeks passed when you saw each other again. You saw him first this time, almost thinking your eyes were deceiving you as he shopped for kitchen knives, while you searched for a better sword.

This village was known for their blacksmith being the best in the East Blue, so you knew to head here after earning just enough Berries.

You slowly approached him as he examined knives. He caught sight of you from one's reflection, his leg swinging towards you in defense as he was surprised. Only halfway through his action did it process in his mind that it was you.

Still, though he couldn't stop himself, you deflected his leg with your forearm. You knocked him upside the head afterwards.

He rubbed his head to ease the pain. "You are good."

You didn’t ask how he knew of your abilities when he had never seen you fight. "Thank you."

You already knew he would ask what you were doing here. "I'm looking for a better sword," you answered his silent question, "I'm thinking it's about time. I recently turned in a million bounty, anyway."

"Good job, darling." Your eyes darted to his with surprise at the pet name, a chuckle leaving your lips as you looked away from his eyes that bore into yours.

"Thank you." He smiled as you tried to hide your flushed cheeks.

"Have you eaten? I'd love to cook lunch for you." It was comedic how he didn't trust any restaurant, only offering his own cooking every time you ran into each other. He knew you only deserve the best in everything, so he always offered you his cooking.

Still, you never really refused.

You had to admit that he had every right to be cocky about his cooking skills – he wasn’t just all talk, anyway. You do believe that he was the best chef in the East Blue – maybe even of all the Seas.

After finding the right sword for yourself, you walked through the market to buy supplies for lunch. Sanji couldn't help but complain to you how Luffy had consumed a month's worth of food in less than an hour just as they had left the village prior to this one.

You couldn't help but laugh as he told the story, imagining Sanji chasing Luffy around their ship and pleading to Nami for a lockable fridge. After buying meat and vegetables, you started to head back to the boat.

Luffy was more than delighted to see you, Usopp still a bit skeptical (it was only in his nature), and Nami welcomed you aboard. Zoro was asleep.

Sanji cooked lunch for you, making something special for you and Nami as well as dessert, staying by your side as you ate your food.

You stayed with them for dinner, as well, finding that you made a connection with the rest of the crew as well.

"Do you really not want to join?" Sanji asked for the third time, you only chuckled as you already expected the answer to pop up at some point. You sat with the crew on the main deck's floor, deciding to dine under the night sky instead of inside the cabin.

"Yeah, it’ll be fun, come on!" Luffy urged you on before stuffing his mouth with the contents of Usopp's plate.

"Hey!" Usopp scolded him as soon as he noticed his plate empty again.

"I thought you were heading for the Grand Line, what are you doing here?" You asked while Usopp stood and went to the kitchen.

"Don’t change the subject." Sanji caught your attempt, causing you to give him a sly smile.

"We were, but Luffy can’t keep his hands off our fridge.” Zoro glared at the oblivious captain who only continued to eat.

Nami hummed in agreement. "We keep needing to stop by islands to restock every other day, even if we stock a month's worth of food."

"Your turn to answer," Sanji urged, leaving you no choice but to do so.

"I’ve told you – I’m a merchant, not a pirate. I’m not in these seas for gold or adventure, I’m here to make a living."

"You’re a negotiator," Nami chimed in.

"And a good fighter!" Luffy exclaimed with a full mouth. You could only assume that Zoro had told them of your first encounter.

"Pirates don't negotiate," you chuckle out.

"Usually not, which is why we need a great fighter if things go south," Luffy explained persuasively.

"You already have good fighters on board," you motioned towards everyone.

"It wouldn't hurt to have one more."

You ran out of rebuttals.

"Still, I’m not joining a pirate group with him." You cocked your chin towards Zoro's way. He had finished his dinner and shut his eyes to go to sleep while still sitting with his arms crossed.

"Done, he’s off the group," Sanji concluded in a heartbeat.

"You don’t get to decide that," Zoro reminded him without opening his eyes.

Usopp had returned with a plate full of food while you had started rebutting. He kept his eyes on it the whole time, yet it disappeared the second he looked away to listen to what you were saying.

"LUFFY! Stop eating my dinner!"

* * * * * *

Fourth time's a sign.

It was less of a surprise than a concern, the fourth time you ran into each other. You headed to Loguetown not long after you left the Straw Hats again. You arrived at the town and stayed for a few days.

You were currently in Captain Smoker's office. Usually, it was pirates that passed by Loguetown, as it was the island closest to the Reverse Mountain in the East Blue. He wasn’t expecting that his ex-subordinate’s merchant of a daughter would be found in a place such as this. He knew this was your father's hometown, but you being in his office told him you weren't here for family reasons.

"Will this take long?" You asked impatiently.

"Not at all." He pulled out a piece of paper. You waved your hand around the air in front of you, trying to swat away some of the smoke to see even a little bit of the writing on the paper.

He flipped the paper and slid it towards you. "State your purpose here, write your name here, sign here." He pointed at different lines on the paper.

"You will not be permitted if you’re after the One Piece," he informed you before you started writing, "You’ll be considered a pirate and arrested, effective immediately."

"And if my purpose is private?" You questioned.

He only sighed before replying, "You have to put something down."

At that, you began to fill up the details. "Your father, how is he?"

Your brows raised at his decision to make conversation. You knew he wasn't the best at it. "Fine. Better since he finally retired."

It was difficult taking care of your father. Once an ex-marine, then a merchant, his life had always been on the line especially in this age of pirates. You always worried and wondered whether or not your father would come home. It was only four years ago that he retired at the age of 71.

"And your mother?"

Your mother had been supportive of every decision you and your father made, finding that it would be difficult to get either of you to change your minds anyway.

She always wanted at least two children, though fell ill and became unable to before she could. Your mother always assured that you were enough, though she never really said it.

She was remorseful that you grew up alone, and you were sad that she never got to completely have what she wanted.

However, she had recently begun teaching art class to the children of your village as a way to pass the time. You were happy she did – it made her happy.

"She’s fine, too. Dropped by for a bit before I head for the Grand Line."

Silence filled the suffocating atmosphere that wasn't even as severe as when Captain Smoker would be alone in his office. As you finished filling up the form, you flipped the paper again to face him.

"I'm not going there for the One Piece, by the way."

"I thought you weren't," Captain Smoker affirmed, as if to elucidate the trust he had on you, despite your father's other connections.

He read your reasoning and seemed to be stuck on it. He glanced between you and the paper multiple times before he put out his cigar on the paper, putting out the fire so it didn't completely burn. That served as his seal of approval.

You left his office afterwards, and you couldn't help but scan the streets as you walked. It had become somewhat of a bad habit, looking for Sanji in every village you visited.

As if fate was on your side, maybe even rooting for you, you heard the certain North Blue accent of a certain blonde haired chef call out your name.

You cannot hide the smile from your face as you turn to face the source of his voice, and it is evident by the grin on his face that he was all the more elated to have been able to run into you just before he entered the Grand Line.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, though you already knew the answer.

"Heading for the Grand Line," he answered as if it didn't need to be questioned at this point, which it really didn't. "You?"

"Heading for the Grand Line," you mimicked with a grin.

Though you expected him to be joyful, his face fell with confusion. "What?"

"There's something I have to tell you," you admitted sheepishly. "Lunch?" You offered before you gave him the news.

He couldn't help but smile at your offer, knowing he couldn't refuse it.

* * * * * *

Sanji found out your favorite food in your hometown. Given that, to your parents, it was a blessing for you to come home, they had decided to cook your favorite food for you. It was a simple tonkatsu, yet he wanted to make it perfect for you – just the way your parents would make it.

You learned that every Straw Hat had gone to different parts of the town, looking into every shop and spoiling themselves for as long as they could before they entered the Grand Line.

Meanwhile, Sanji set aside the task of buying supplies to cook for you instead.

"Why are you suddenly going to the Grand Line?" He asked while chopping up a cabbage. You sat at the dining table of the place you rented for a few days.

"It was never my intention, I always planned to stay in the East Blue," you admitted. "But my father, he…" you couldn't help but chuckle at how ridiculous it was.

"He and an old friend hid their family treasure in the New World – swore to one day come back for it."

"Your father entered the Grand Line?" You nodded.

"He really did make the most of it during his golden age back then," you remarked.

"So now, you're going to the New World to get your family treasure back?" You nodded again.

"And his friend's. After everything my parents have done for me, I think this is the only way I can repay them. Especially since my father grows weaker everyday now."

He nodded in understanding. He moved to sit next to you while he waited for one side of the tonkatsu to cook. He usually wouldn't, but he wanted to savour the moment he had with you – to be as close as he could to you.

"So, would you want to join us, now?" He offered again.

He noticed you took longer than usual to respond.

"I can't."

Sanji chuckled, unable to feel gray by the fourth time you rejected him. "Do you at least think about it?"

You couldn't help but chuckle as well. "I've always travelled alone," you reasoned, "and I think this should be something that I do alone."

"Agree to disagree," Sanji decided.

"I'm still not changing my mind." He raised his hands in surrender and he stood to turn the tonkatsu to its other side.

"So, I guess this is the last time we see each other," you deduced.

"Unless we run into each other at the Grand Line," Sanji added.

"Right." You looked at each other for a moment, and being under his gaze suddenly made you feel small, so you straightened your posture as you and he made sure to take with you every detail of each other. You weren't even sure either of you would be able to enter the Grand Line safely, yet somehow you were both still confident that you would.

"There's different islands and different paths to take in the Grand Line," you brought up, implying that your paths may not cross again.

"Well, if it's our fate to meet again, I will continue to ask you," Sanji reassured.

You chuckled. "Your captain has the highest bounty in the East Blue, you might not even leave the town."

"Please, our captain's an idiot. People, even in the Grand Line, will underestimate him and end up regretting it." His tone was distracted as he spoke, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

Your corner of your lips knowingly curled up to a smile, "You might meet other women."

"I will meet them, but I wouldn't pursue them – can you please just let me kiss you?" He asked impatiently. His eyes had settled on looking only at your lips by now. He knew by the smirk on your lips how you knew about his growing need to kiss you every time you two saw each other.

"Yeah, alright," your answer was all the more casual as if it didn't make your heart skip a beat to hear how desperate he had sounded. The words barely left your mouth before he had gently cupped your cheek and his lips met yours.

A groan left his lips and vibrated against yours as your hand tangled in his hair, his hand now resting to cup your jaw so he could feel how fast your heartbeat was from your pulse point.

You soon pulled away for air, your hand still in his hair and his on your cheek. Your foreheads touched as you leaned onto each other, both panting. You smiled and soon chuckled, pressing a kiss on the apple of his cheek.

"The food might burn," you reminded him that he was cooking.

He panted out a few more breaths and savoured the moment. It seemed as if the sentence you uttered took a moment to process in his brain after you had stupefied him with your kiss.

"Shit."

He quickly left your side, disconcerted as he overcooked one side of the tonkatsu.

Oh, well, he thought. He supposed he would have to endure eating this one if it meant you would have a perfect meal.

* * * * * *

Fifth time's an obstinacy.

It was as if your fates had been intertwined the moment you two first met.

You glanced at your Log Pose every once in a while as you waited for your order at the restaurant. As you did, you couldn't help but wonder where Sanji was at this point and time. It was taking quite some time for your Log Pose to record the direction to the next island with the path you chose to take, so you wondered if they were already far ahead of you.

"Man, I'm starving!" A familiar voice exclaimed upon entering the restaurant.

"You just finished eating every free sample at the market," another familiar voice responded, his tone nonchalant.

"Yeah, those were the appetizers!" You turned to face the entrance with a confused look, both heads immediately turning to face you, too.

"Oh, hey, it's you again!" Luffy walked towards your table, his first mate reluctantly following suit.

"What are you doing here?"

"We got lost, I think!" He announced as if it were something to boast about.

"Don't say it so confidently," Zoro scolded.

"Good to see you, moss head," you greeted with sarcasm.

"Hey, don't you start, too." You were about to give a snarky remark when Luffy spoke again.

"We just came from an island called Little Garden! We're planning on heading to Alabasta since we have their princess on board," Luffy explained, unknowingly preventing another duel between you and Zoro.

"For the record, we didn't kidnap her for ransom," Zoro cleared up due to the nature of Luffy's odd way of phrasing.

"Technically, we did, because Nami's asking for one billion Berries in return," Luffy argued.

"That's Nami we're talking about," Zoro retorted.

"Oh, waiter! I would like to order, please!" Luffy's voice boomed at the restaurant.

"Where's Sanji?" You asked. Your eyes had scanned around in search of the chef the moment you saw Luffy and Zoro, though you knew deep down that Sanji would only trust his own cooking. He would probably even scold you if he caught you dining here.

"Buying food supplies," Luffy responded while still eyeing the waiter who was serving another table.

"You ate it all again, didn't you?"

Luffy grinned at how well you seemed to know him. "I did!"

He was an open book – he seemed oblivious of the fact.

The waiter soon arrived with your food and Luffy took the chance to order every dish on the menu.

"Oh. Zoro, do you have any money?" Luffy had asked in the middle of his fourteenth dish. Zoro only looked at him, then they turned to you in unison.

Your eyes widened at the pair. You had finished your meal by Luffy's eighth dish, yet you stuck around both because of your amusement and manners.

You cleared your throat and looked away from their gazes, slowly taking out a few Berries that were enough for your meal before you stood and fled from the restaurant.

You could hear Luffy's frantic exclamations from outside the restaurant, growing distant as you continued to run.

You let out a surprised exclamation as you ran into someone upon your lack of focus. They had stopped you from completely crashing onto their chest by grabbing you by the shoulders.

He called your name and your head whipped up to face him.

"Sanji!" You grinned and threw your arms around his neck in an embrace, glad that he had entered the Grand Line safely. He wrapped his arms around your waist as well, lifting you off the ground as his grip tightened a bit.

He placed your feet back down on the ground a moment later, pulling away from the hug.

"Glad to see me again?" You teased.

"Very much, darling," he didn't attempt to deny, a wide grin now on his lips.

You noticed that he was with Nami, Usopp, and an unfamiliar woman with blue hair. You greeted the pair and gave the woman a puzzled look.

"This is Vivi," Nami introduced her, telling Vivi your name as well.

"It's nice to meet you," Vivi uttered sheepishly.

"Oh, are you the princess?" You presumed, panting from your running.

"Wait, you know?" Usopp questioned with confusion.

"I ran into your captain and swordsman. They almost trapped me into paying for their lunch at the restaurant." You pointed your thumb over your shoulder at the restaurant ahead of them.

"That's our captain for you." Nami shook her head in disapproval as she looked at the restaurant.

"Would you like to join us for lunch?" Sanji offered, smiling. "I'd be delighted to cook your favorite for you again."

You gladly accepted.

You were once again found boarding the Going Merry. Luffy and Zoro were yet to return, and presumably got lost, so Usopp volunteered to return to the village to search for them.

Once Vivi and Nami retreated to their shared room and left the two of you alone in the kitchen, you couldn't keep your hands off each other.

Your lips met again and things turned heated until you soon had to stop yourselves and let Sanji prepare the crew's lunch.

Sanji had a sly grin on his face as he buttoned back up his top button that you had unconsciously unbuttoned.

"I'm still not becoming a pirate." You could see the question coming from a mile away now.

Sanji clicked his tongue in playful annoyance. "Think about it."

"I have!" You chuckled as you spoke.

"And do you see yourself coming with us?" It took you a while to respond, contemplating whether or not you should tell the truth.

"I do," you admitted.

"So why don't you want to?"

"Because I feel like I'll forget what my goal is when I'm with you." He seemed taken aback by your response. "I forget about everything else when I'm around you. I forget there's a whole world with real people beyond that door and that it's not just you and me."

"I won't let you forget it," he reassured you, "I'll be there to support you, to help you."

He took your hands in his. "It pains me to be parted from you."

You rolled your eyes at how cheesy he sounded. "You'll live."

"I'll live in agony." You couldn't help but chuckle despite how serious he sounded. You squeezed his hands in comfort.

"Well, I do recall my father telling me that his friend left a clue somewhere in Alabasta." His eyes lit up at the thought of seeing you again, of having certainty of when and where you'll be able to meet again.

"Suppose I head there next; are you willing to find me?"

"I would scour all of the Blue Seas to find you."

Your heart jumped. "Then it's a date."

* * * * * *

It had only been two weeks since you last saw Sanji. You had encountered one more island, an autumnal kingdom, before you arrived at Alabasta.

Your father and his friend had made a riddle. It was almost as if you were on a scavenger hunt on the world's most dangerous land and waters.

In a desert land where droughts hold sway,

Soon an oasis, you'll find me one day.

But don't expect to see a mirage's grace,

I'm real, with life, by North's palace.

Rainbase. It had to be. It took days for you to travel to the location, the desert just as deadly as the open waters of the Grand Line.

You looked at the map of Alabasta, with it the piece of paper with the riddle your father had given you. In the event that neither he nor his friend would be able to return to their treasure, they decided to mark their clues with their initials.

And so, the paper was signed 'A.P. & G.D.R.'

Though there was commotion near the casino, you scoured the streets and alleys of Rainbase to find any sort of clue. Once you were sure to have checked every alley, your shoulders sagged as you failed to find the clue. It was only when you entered the pub that you found what you were looking for.

There was a wall of photographs in the corner of the pub. You drank a bottle of beer as your eyes scanned the unfamiliar faces of the pub's patrons.

You almost spat your beer out when you found one of your father and his friend. You unpinned it to take a closer look, noticing that it was slightly indented at some parts. You turned the picture around and found another riddle written with messy handwriting. It matched that of the riddle in your possession.

Way up high a place God is resided,

On stolen land from which its people are prohibited,

With fate and luck you will reach this land of Vearth,

Found far within the clouds where you will prove your worth.

– A.P. & G.D.R.

…What was that supposed to mean?

Rainbase was a piece of cake to decipher, but this one seemed to be utter nonsense.

You supposed it was up to par with how the Grand Line was. Nothing made sense and everything made you clueless.

You walked away from the wall, glum as you headed for the exit, when the bartender called for you.

He had been bartender long enough to recognize your father's face and your resemblance of him. He gave you something your father and his friend had left – something they entrusted to him to keep until someone came looking for clues.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the gold coin with Gol D. Roger's Jolly Roger. His flag had long fallen, yet the coin still assured your protection so long as you had it on your person as you continued in your journey.

And so, you left the pub with a photograph and a rare treasure.

"Oh!" Someone called your name just as you were walking back to the inn. You lifted your head off the ground to see Sanji up ahead.

A smile immediately found its way to your lips as you began to approach him, his arms raising as an invitation to an embrace.

You burrowed your face into his chest as you hugged him, his chest vibrating as he chuckled upon seeing you again.

"I hope you didn't miss me too much," he remarked.

You shrugged with nonchalance. "I survived," you retorted.

He had a cigarette between his lips that curled up at your reply. His hand took yours. "Come on."

Your eyes widened as he began running, leading you along. "Where, exactly?"

He forced a laugh to lessen your soon-to-be anxiety. "Err…Me and the gang are sort of on the run from Crocodile."

"The Warlord?!" He nodded.

"We got split up, but we're headed towards Alubarna to stop a war," he said too casually. You sighed exasperatedly.

"Nothing's ever dull with you guys, is it?" He only laughed.

* * * * * *

You successfully helped stop a war.

Luffy had fought and successfully defeated Crocodile. Unfortunately, he had been poisoned in the process, though was quickly given an antidote. This caused him to be in a three-day coma which fortunately left the rest of the crew to rest as well.

Since the last time you first saw them, you found that they recruited a reindeer doctor that had eaten the Human Human Devil Fruit.

You and Sanji decided to go out for dinner during those three days. By that, it means that Sanji cooked a five-course meal for just the two of you. You insisted that he didn't need to, but he insisted otherwise.

You both had taken hits and gained wounds during your attempt at preventing a war, so Sanji made sure to implement food that would help your wounds heal faster and give you more strength.

He told you the story of how they had met and recruited Chopper, the reindeer doctor. Nami had fallen ill days after their stay at an island called Little Garden. He also told you how the island had dinosaurs and two giants who had been in a century-long fight for a reason they didn't even remember anymore.

He told you of Baroque Works and the members they had come across and defeated, and how Crocodile had secretly been the organization's boss.

You noticed that he was yet to ask you the question that came every time you came across each other. Throughout your night, you waited, and it never came. You supposed he had come at peace with your seemingly compelled answer that never changed every time he asked you.

By the third day of your stay in Alubarna, Luffy finally woke. His crew was quick to devise a plan to leave the kingdom before the sun rose to quickly get back to your ships.

Vivi was torn between staying for her kingdom or joining the Straw Hat Pirates, so they had given her twelve hours to decide, which was just enough for their ship to pass by the eastern part of Alabasta and let Vivi board if she ever decided to join them.

Vivi chose her kingdom. She bid the Straw Hats farewell during her coming-of-age speech, staying by the coast as she showed off her 'X' tattoo that matched the others. It was a symbol that said no matter where they were, they would always be a Straw Hat Pirate.

The others had shown off theirs, too, while they sailed away from Alabasta.

Now, you remained on the Going Merry. Your boat was connected to the ship by rope. You were lounging at the main deck with the crew.

"We'll untie your boat from ours once we get far enough away from the Marines," Nami explained.

"Alright…" You replied, seemingly distracted.

Naturally, Sanji was the first to notice this. "Something on your mind, love?"

You had gotten used to the pet names at this point. You looked up at the ship's Jolly Roger as you rethought your decision one last time.

You closed your eyes. "Fine," you started.

You opened your eyes to see everyone looking at you curiously and expectantly.

"I'll join your crew," you clarified.

In the blink of an eye, Luffy lifted you to your feet and began to dance you around in celebration, Usopp and Chopper joining in. You couldn't help but chuckle at their delight.

Once the moment passed, Sanji approached you and held your hand.

"Are you sure?"

You smiled up at him. "I've thought about it a lot, like you said."

You looked around at the faces you've come across multiple times already. "And I guess I wouldn't mind being with a few friends – the journey to the New World is long, anyway."

You turned to Sanji. He had been looking at you with a smile.

Then, he suddenly swept you up into his arms and kissed you right there and then, finding himself too overwhelmed with emotions to say anything – so he just kissed you.

Most of the crew let out a surprised exclamation while Luffy began to laugh gleefully.

Nami was about to scold the cook as she saw your flushed face when you pulled away and chuckled sheepishly.

"Not in front of the crew," you spoke through gritted teeth as you gently smacked him upside the head.

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry, I got carried away."

"Sanji! This calls for a celebration! Cook something for us!" The Straw Hat Captain boomed.

"Aye-aye, captain!"

The door to the cabin swung open just as Sanji began to approach it. He halted in his steps.

"So, we've finally left the island?" Nico Robin, Miss All-Sunday, seemed to have snuck on board.

"...AAAHH!"

* * * * * *

a/n: i wonder if anyone figured out reader's father's friend was roger before it was stated…?

taglist: @inf4ntdeath @x-uno @miloonmetis @angeli-fucking-cat @zzbloody-animezz @watercolorskyy @saltyfriendsaladbandit @mbekgsv @mischiefmanaged71 @leslielovestedalot1 @theamazingtrinitysky @stevenknightmarc

[jungshookz]

smitten mean jimin is … 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ it would complete my life if u had made a smol mean jimin drabble 😫😫 love love loveeeeeEeew ur works and have been reading for a long time!

“watch where you’re going!” jimin snaps, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder before scoffing, turning to look down at where you are on the ground 

there he was, just minding his own business and making his way to class when all of a sudden you decided to ram yourself right into his shoulder and knock yourself to the ground 

and not to mention, he did upper body yesterday at the gym so his shoulders are particularly sore today! 

god

some people are so inconsiderate 

“watch where i’m going? you’re the one who shoulder checked me-“ you grumble, picking your textbook up from the ground and dusting it off, “thanks for offering to help pick my things up off the floor, by the way, really courteous of you-“ 

“i didn’t shoulder check you, you were literally in my way-“ jimin pauses, bending down to pick up your student ID by his boot before bringing it up to look at it, “y/n y/l/n.” 

“oh, fantastic. now you know my name and you’re going to send your people after me, princess. give me that-“ you snatch your ID from his slender fingers before slipping it into your back pocket, “thanks for making my first day here so lovely, sir.” 

“sir- i’m- we’re practically the same age!” jimin rips his sunglasses off with a scoff

sir??

SIR????

his skin is plush and bouncy and glowing and he doesn’t get a snail mucus facial every week to be called SIR by someone whose skincare routine is probably just using the generic drug store brands and rubbing that in with hard tap water 

and if this is your first day here then it makes sense as to why you don’t seem to know who he is 

because everyone on this campus knows who he is 

“yeah… it’s okay to dress your age, you know. getting older is a graceful process, truly-“ you shrug with a shoulder and jimin feels his grip tighten around his bag strap

“we are the same age, i saw your graduation date on your ID-“ he snaps, faltering a bit when he feels your gaze pinning him in place a little, eyes peering at him through your lashes before you blink twice and offer him a sweet smile 

“i skipped two grades in high school. maybe we’re graduating the same year but we’re certainly not the same age. and you know what- now that i realise you are much, much older than me, i will go ahead and apologise to you for bumping into you. we really do have to be more caring towards our senior citizens-“

“you- i don’t know who you think you are-“

“well, you already know my name is y/n y/l/n, so do with that information what you will.” you chirp, spinning around on your heel, “see you around, sir!” 

for the first time ever, jimin is rendered speechless as he stands there with his mouth agape and his sunglasses in his hands

did you just- 

are you- 

who are you-

what the hell just happened?!? 

🎙️ ask jimin where his sunglasses are from (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!) 

[arcane-ish]

@alisha-on-arcane

So on rewatching I've convinced myself that the flashback is very, very rose-tinted. That we're seeing Vander's heavily processed memory of their lives together (though the vanco love shack looks pretty cosy) minus the fights and the hardship and the dirt.

The main thing I got from the flashback is that Vander is secretly the world biggest Silco simp and to him, through his mind's eye Silco was just the cutest most stylish little twink, complete with fuzzy water colors.

Now there are parts that are certainly real (the shack and the letter). But Vander's memories. Eh..

The problem is that there's always the character level and the meta level.

1.) Who is the flashback for?

IMO the flashback, particularly the music sequence to me is complicated that to me it doesn't feel like it is primarily about Vander.

In the end, this show is not about Vander and it's not about Silco. It's about Jinx and Vi (+ a little bit of Cait). And to me that Memories sequence felt even though within the story it is triggered by Vander, structurally, within the episode, I think it's much more about showing us young!Vi and young!Powder being happy. Because the whole vibe of the arc to me is about Jinx getting better and almost getting a better life unless if it brutally ripped away from her again.

Vi and Jinx reuniting for the sake of Vander, getting their family hugs in plus the memories montage about how happy they once were is supposed to make us feel wistful about Vi and Jinx so we can then be crushed by the Isha ending and Jinx going back to having her hallucinations.

Like how the montage imo shifts from a Vander POV (Vander thinking of Silco, Vander thinking about boxing with Vi at various ages) to the point of view of the children.

This is Felicia greeting her children, not Vander. This is Felicia giving Vi her glove, from Vi's POV, not Vanders.

This is Vi smelling the food and turning around and seeing her mom cooking for Powder, this is Vi remembering her mother cutting her hair.

To me those moments just don't feel like moments where Vander would have been around (ie the moment where the POV camera moves to look into the soup the mirror images contain Felicia, Vi and Powder but no Vander, so another vote for Vander was not part of this moment).

I don't think that there's any in-universe reason to why the memories switch in perspective. Like Vi and Vander's minds are connected. Or being around Vander makes Vi think a lot about her own mom. So I think the sequence is just "vibes" based. It shifts from Vander's POV to Vi's POV simply because somebody (probably Christian Linke....) wanted to have those scenes in there, whether they make sense of not and structurally/dramatically this montage is there as a calm before the storm before Isha eats it.

(also note that the sequence starts on Vander, his memories, then switches to Vi's POV and then the sequence exits on Vi, Jinx and Isha, with no Vander in sight:

, so yes, my read that it starts on a Vander flashback but it morphs into a Vi respectively Vi/Jinx centered one for artistic reasons)

2.) artist fuckups + fanwank or intentional varity or fuckup followed by intentional variety?

I have to find it but I recently came across another person complaining about the flashback and noting that in Silco's version of the The Drowning his hair is shorter and styled different and they also claimed that Amanda Overton said that the original flashback was a fuckup and Vander and Silco were not supposed to look that young.

So, here's my thinking. If Vander's POV is rose tinted glasses. Who says that Silco's version of events is the real one? Maybe the truth was somewhere in the middle?

And there is some basis for a "memory is relative" approach. Jinx has always had a warped perception of the world. But now we at least have Vi's flashes of Caitlyn. Or Viktor's version of Skye not having glasses and fewer freckles. Or Cait's warped view of the world or how she pictures Jinx right after her mom's death.

Now IF we take this line that ALL flashbacks are colored by the perception of the characters and we can't take any of them 100% per face value, that brings up a ton of interesting things to think about. (maybe Silco is the cutest twink in Vander's memories because that's Vander saw him, maybe Silco is much grimier and the world much darker because there's some self hate there, maybe Vander is scary and bearded on the bridge because that's how Vi sees him in this situation).

But even though this is a fun fanwank and you can get some mileage out of it, I always run into "okay, but how much are we just covering up production fuckups and the creators just being messy and not as careful.

To me the idea that Vander is still "lying" in his memories is a super interesting character idea to me. But the problem is that I have no faith that this will ever be anything but a theory. Because I don't think that with just 3 episodes left and so much shit left to cover we will get another dark version of those memories to reveal that there's a contradiction. Like it could easily fit in just maybe before the final Warwick transformation. But I just don't think it will happen.

But yes, as just a fun character theory, I can get into Vander being strapped down being tortured by Singed and just retreating deeper and deeper into happy memories of his cute boyfriend even if those memories aren't real, they need to be made even lighter and prettier because they have to balance out so much torture. Vander doesn't want to think about the dark things they did together because he's trying to preserve his sanity in the face of a ton of torture and chemicals.

sure if you like they can both have been in love with Felicia, though I think the jackets make a much stronger zaundads case, and 'three close friends' is a thing),

At this point my read is still 100% Zaundads were an item and they were friends with Felicia and Connol and they care about them as fellow friends. I can maybe get into the "but Vi looks like Vander and Jinx has Silco's hair" (but let's remember, Silco could just have styled her hair after she started living with it rather than that being a physical property), but just on what is being said, the looks being exchanged, my read is that they are just concerned friends. (especially with my read that at least part of the Memories montage is Vi gazing onto Felicia and not Vander gazing onto Felicia)

But yes, I can see why the normies might read it differently.

I don't need Vander to have been in love with Felicia for him to freak out after her death. Right now my pitch is, Vander was really into project ankle biter and lived a bit vicariously through Felicia and Connol's family.

And if Silco maybe does something reckless that gets Felicia killed this is more deeply symbolic about how he just doesn't respect Project Anklebiter at all the way Vander wants him to. (with my personal presumption that they maybe were on rocky terms about Project Anklebiter before)

(that said, if all that Silco did was throw a molotov cocktail that is still weak sauce if they are really not going to add anything to that. Like I was at least counting on Silco I dunno, wanting to fuck up the air vents or something like that. Especially since in Vi's version of the Day of Ash Vander still seems moderately into it at the beginning rather Vander never wanted Day of Ash because he wanted to stop way before Vi was born and Silco kept provoking more and more fights. And if Vander didn't lead the charge on the Bridge how the fuck did he ever get any reputation as a revolutionary if all he did was found a moderately successful bar. It feels like there should be more to the story, I'm just doubtful it will ever come)

ETA: I should probably note that project ankle biter doesn't just have to be read in a mpreg "Vander wants to breed his boyfriend" kind of way as much as a joke about it. It can also be seen metaphorically about what status children should have within their community. Especially if you consider that Silco's arc ended up being all about valueing Jinx's life and freedom over Zaun and this arc just ended with Jinx becoming a symbol for resistance and almost instantly her pseudo daughter gets killed. [and of course there's Ekko as the middle ground, who has child aged people fighting, but not doing full on revolution, so maybe there is a middle ground between kids should be tools or soldiers or ignored and kids need to be kept protected and in the dark]

[thethirdromana]

Mina says in her letter to Lucy that she has delayed writing to Lucy despite their upcoming vacation together because she has been "overwhelmed with work". Did the schoolmistress assistants work long hours?

So last year I read an absolutely fascinating article about the economics of Victorian schools for genteel young women - precisely the sort of place that we assume Mina works at.

It said that the schools and the teachers at them were required to present themselves as being of the same social class (upper middle class and upper class) as their pupils. But that was expensive, and the fees paid by the pupils were often not high enough to support that kind of lifestyle, so it was a difficult balancing act for headteachers to manage.

I can't for the life of me find that article again, infuriatingly, but assuming I've remembered it correctly, headteachers would have been under a lot of pressure to squeeze as much work out of their staff as possible, and to cut expenses wherever they could.

In the process I did find this interesting article about salaries of assistant schoolmistresses from 1904 - note that Mina is almost certainly earning less than the amounts specified in the article, since we can safely assume she doesn't have a degree.

In some industries, negotiations between employers and unions secured shorter working hours, and there was some (minimal) legislation. For instance in 1886 the Shop Hours Regulation Act limited the hours of shop workers under the age of 18 to less than 74 hours a week. There were greater restrictions on working hours in factories and coal mines. But servants, by contrast, could expect to work 14+ hours a day and only stop when they were asleep.

Mina's working day probably isn't quite that bad, and we know she gets a long summer holiday. But if I had to take a guess (and it really is just a guess!), I wouldn't be surprised if 10 or even 12 hour working days are routine for her.

[littlegreenteacup]

After All | Chapter Two

Summary: Waking up with a stranger in your arms is odd to say the least. When that strange feels like home? It's hard to let go.

Word Count: 2,422

Next Chapter

Warnings: Discussions of symptoms of PPD, Fleur leaving, Anxious thoughts, recovery from a werewolf attack, mentions of nightmares, probably mentions of PTSD - depending on how you look at it, a failed marriage, Bill being a single father, mention of Molly and Ginny not liking Fleur, and the sorry state of mental health care of any sort in the wizarding world, references to sex (possibly?). Please don't hesitate to let me know if I've forgotten something.

A/N: Not much dialogue in this one, just a few comments made in the background and a lot of Bill's thought process and some background.

“How much did they drink last night?” a man’s hushed voice whispered, concern evident in his tone.

“Fuck if I know, mate!” another, exasperated and distinctly Irish, voice responded, louder than (Y/N) would have liked, given the pounding in her skull.

“They were at your bar, Alex!” the first voice - almost certainly Charlie, though (Y/N) refused to open her eyes to confirm her suspicions - remarks, vague amusement now present as well. She heard what sounded like someone’s hands hitting their thighs in irritation, followed by a scoff closer to where the door to her room would be.

“Well, it doesn’t matter either way, Charlie,” definitely Charlie and Alex, she thought, burrowing her head further against the source of warmth she was laying half on top of. “We can come back later,” there was a pause, almost as if Alex was inspecting the situation more closely, “and we can bring them somethin’ to eat too,” another pause, this one shorter and interrupted by an aggravated sigh, “lord knows (Y/N) won’t have bothered ta pick up any groceries.”

There was a soft chuckle from Charlie, probably halfway across the living room by now, and something she didn’t quite catch was said before the soft click of her bedroom door, and the more distant one of her front door were heard in the distance. The man, probably - hopefully - the one she had met at the bar the night before, pulled her closer, wrapping her more fully in a warmth she was far too comfortable in to even try escaping from. Maybe she should have been more concerned about there being a stranger in her bed with her, but she felt safe, and warm and, oddly enough, like she belonged here wrapped in these arms - like two puzzle pieces designed to fit together - so she let herself be lulled back to sleep by the rhythmic rise and fall of the man’s breathing, and the wonderful rich warm scent of an oddly familiar cologne - cloves and leather, old parchment and the warm honied-milkness that she always associated with magic.

—

Bill had instinctively pulled the form of the woman next to him into his chest, pressing his nose into the top of her hair. It took him a minute, maybe a minute too long, to remember that there should not be a woman in his bed. Certainly not one so willing to curl into him as she - ‘(Y/N)’, Bill remembered, hazy memories of her introducing herself to him at the bar and the warmth he had felt around her floating quickly into his brain, and leaving just as quickly - had, the moment he had pulled her in; Fleur - long gone and moving on to a new relationship, a new life - had not been the sort to do so. But (Y/N) - even thinking her name made his heart pick up - was warm in his arms. Bill inhaled deeply, nose still pressed to her hair, and smiled sadly - sad at the realization that this would not be something he would likely experience again. She smelled of old books, and milky tea with honey. There was something else too, something that reminded him of the pears he and Charlie would put on their porridge in the mornings as children. Bill was sure that if he’d had a vile of Amortentia at that moment, it would smell just like this.

He was alerted to (Y/N) beginning to wake when she rolled over in her sleep, and burrowed her head under his chin, her nose pressed against his chest, and her eyes guarded against the warm late-morning sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains of her bedroom - it had to be her bedroom, Bill thought absently, it was lacking the cold uniformity of a hotel room and it was nowhere he recognised as a room that could have belonged to him. For a moment, the unfamiliarity of his surroundings reminded him of the strangeness of this situation. Even when he and Fleur had been at their best - and they had had something, even if it hadn’t worked out - even when they had decided to have a child together - mistakenly thinking that a child might help to iron out the wrinkles in their relationship that were starting to make themselves known - Fleur had been to used to pushing everything and everyone away. She had kept everyone at arm's length - literally and figuratively - to keep herself from getting hurt. He couldn’t blame her for it either. Bill had certainly kept his own distance, becoming cold and harsh for a time after a fragile peace was found. It was no one's fault, really - or if it was it was both of theirs - but it had put a strain on their already crumbling marriage when things became difficult.

The attack by Greyback - one which had nearly ended his life and had left him scarred emotionally as well as physically - had sealed their fate, just not for the reasons his mother and Ginny had thought. Fleur hadn’t cared about his scars, or that he might have some lycanthropic tendencies - even joking that she would have to ask her mother for a good recipe for steak à l'Americaine - and for that, and for giving him Victoire, a part of him would always love her. No, what Fleur had cared about - what she had focused on and obsessed over until it made her sick with worry and unwilling to tell anyone about her feelings lest they judge her for it - was the very real possibility that the man she loved could be taken from her at the drop of a hat. It had been a reality check for her, one that she choked back and refused to acknowledge until it was too late.

For a while after the attack, things had seemed to be alright. Fleur had visited Bill at St. Mungos while he was recovering, she had helped him with his physical therapy, and sat with him when his nightmares woke him in the night, leaving him shaking and soaked with sweat. And then things got better - or seemed to anyway. The war ended, their families were safe without the constant threat of death and torture at every turn. But their joy and relief came and went all too soon, and as it did they were left broken. Strangers unsure of what to say to one another, made stranger still by the odd hours caring for a newborn required. Their conversations had become short, lacking any real depth when their most frequent topic of conversation was no longer one that they could fall back on. Actual communication was exchanged for clipped sentences stated with an unfeeling coolness regarding the care of their daughter. A daughter whom Fleur had been unable to force herself to care for the way she felt she should have - for which she berated herself constantly, not allowing Bill, or Molly or even her own mother to console her for the guilt she felt at not caring that she didn’t care. For perhaps the first time in her life, there was a person not immediately charmed by her. This little girl, who had her blond hair and Bill’s blue eyes, and who was so wholly dependent on her for everything, who demand her mother’s attention for nearly everything and never seemed pleased with anything, or so Fleur insisted, finding it easier to blame her detachment on Victoire then to acknowledge that something was wrong.

Bill, in a desperate attempt to make things easier for his wife, asked his mother what might be the problem - ‘surely,’ he thought ‘after seven children she might have some idea.’. The best Molly could offer was the suggestion that they see a doctor from St. Mungo’s psychiatric ward. Fleur had been furious at the suggestion, she had flown into a rage, screaming that she was perfectly sane, that to suggest such  a thing was cruel and unnecessary. Bill had thought it might be a pride thing - that Fleur didn’t want anyone to know the difficulties she was having - it wasn’t. Molly, though lacking the correct vocabulary to describe why she thought Fleur should seek out medical help, had had a point. Months after they had separated, after Fleur had gone back to France to stay with her mother - to get her thoughts straight, she had said, as Bill watched from the doorway of their bedroom helpless to do anything but hold Victoire in his arms and hope that she might sleep through her mother leaving, as Fleur had packed a suitcase, closing it firmly. Brushing past him and wrapping her cloak around herself, she placed her hat neatly atop her perfectly done hair and tossed a handful of floo powder into their living room fireplace, she had given her mother’s address, and blown a kiss in Victoire’s direction, offering Bill a sad smile as she stepped into the green flames and disappeared. It was the most warmth she had shown either of them in so long. Bill had fallen asleep in the glider in Victoire’s room that night, unable to let her go for even a moment, tears drying and leaving tracks down his face as he tried to keep this hiccuping sobs from waking his daughter - Bill had heard a muggleborn colleague in  the next carrel over while researching something he can’t remember explaining to someone else how the wizarding world was sorely lacking in treatment options for struggling new mothers. She had described her wife’s symptoms and, feeling slightly guilty for listening in, Bill was shocked to hear how closely, how nearly exactly, they matched with Fleur’s. It had been the first and only time Bill had ever heard of such a thing, and he had gone home that night and cried, blaming himself for not being able to do more to help - for not knowing that there was more he could do to help.

It was (Y/N)’s soft yawn that drew Bill’s attention from his spiraling thoughts - thoughts that had a tendency to spiral further and further into what if territory when he wasn’t careful - and back into the present moment.

When he’d finally blinked away the last remnants of sleep, Bill was once again met with sight of the unfamiliar room he’d caught a glimpse of earlier. The sunlight seeping in gave the room a golden glow, and the pretty blue floral duvet and white linens surrounding him and (Y/N) smelled of sunshine and clean laundry. Bill shifted slightly away from her, carefully tucking the duvet around her to keep out the chill of the early spring morning. He would need to find a way to owl his mum, make sure Victoire was okay and see if she could watch her for a few more hours.

When (Y/N) had yawned again, it had drawn Bill’s attention to her side of the bed, and that was when he saw it.

On the nightstand, a pair of glasses laying atop it, was a large piece of cream parchment - only a simple gold foiled border around the edge of it belying its importance. Reaching for the paper, careful not to disturb (Y/N), who was still mostly asleep as he leaned over her form to grasp it, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he should remember this. Lightly, Bill traced a finger over the words on the page - over the dried ink of both his and (Y/N) signatures, of the names of officials his still tired brain vaguely remembered but couldn’t quite place. His gaze followed his finger as he traced upwards, and then he felt his heart give a lurch.

In solid black letters at the top of the page were three simple words: Certificate of Marriage. He went back to the bottom, tracing over the names of the officials from before. Now he could place those names. They were the names of officials who worked at the ministry, in a department that primarily worked processing and granting approval for the requests for marriage licenses and, not infrequently, performing what might be able to be called a courthouse wedding - Percy would often complain that the people in that office spent too much time doing nothing, and that the work they did do could easily be absorbed into another department. He was wrong, of course, that particular department handled not just marriages but divorce proceedings as well, something that was an unnecessarily involved ordeal for all involved parties in wizarding england. Everyone, namely due to several pieces of interesting gossip Hermione had unwittingly offered, had their suspicions that it had less to do with the department itself and more to do with Percy’s  dislike of several of the people who worked within that spurred such comments.

Bill spared a glance at (Y/N). As he did, she shifted, her arm now resting over where he had been laying moments before, and as he turned, the sun glinted off the gold of a delicate ring on her left hand. Bill glanced down, realizing that not only was he wearing a similar one, but that he had already fallen back into the easy, familiar habit of twisting it around and around his finger with his thumb without even noticing. He sighed, running a hand through his hair - it was long enough now that Molly would soon begin pestering him to cut it again. Bill slowly rose, standing, completely naked, in the middle of the room. Hastily, he gathered what he could see of the clothes he had been wearing the night before - hoping that that was everything. Whoever (Y/N) was, she was, as far as he could tell, his wife. Bill sighed, walking into the bathroom, and, as quietly as he could, shut the door behind him. This was something they were going to have to talk about - whatever decision was made it would impact not only the two of them, but Victoire as well, and the last thing he wanted was to cause her any harm because the decision that was made was made hastily and without all the facts. For the time being, or at least until his wife woke up, he wanted a shower. Maybe the running water would do him some good, help him clear his head a bit before he was able to get his hands on a hangover remedy.

One thing that had been made clear from the marriage certificate - (Y/N) was a witch - and that simplified things at least a little.

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 22nd December ✨

I have been SO ill this week oh my god, I can’t even express how much hands this virus has 🤧 Thank you to all the shows who have kept me company this week!

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (178) Olivier!!!! Oh, it is breaking my HEART that his parents essentially pulled him out and dropped him in bloody France with no more power and no way of finding out what happened to the rest of the expedition. He doesn’t even know about Riot 😭 Also, I wish the gang had just been told the truth about that chapel because, my god, if it’s not Marco that goes wandering in there, it’s definitely going to be Hope!! Eek, Cole, man!!! You are not showing that you understand any of the principles that made Clem a good detective!! She had a process and a Shelby and years of practice!! You, sir, are going to fuck this up! We obviously now know for sure that Heather was one of the quartet and I feel like Ignatius is probably one because of the fire. Who knows! The game is still definitely afoot! 

🦋 @remnantspod (20) I was warned that this episode would break my heart but did I heed that warning as I listened on my walk through the city centre? No. Did I pay the socially embarrassing price for that hubris? Maybe!! Pushing down the trauma of that remnant leads to some qs from me (please share if you have thoughts!!). We know that Stephen Grenville was just one of many names that the keystone character was using - do we know if the man in this remnant was the ‘original’ one or a ‘fake’ SG? I’m thinking about what he said about Celine’s paintings and her being unable to stop her own style peeking through, I didn’t catch a flash of the Perry/Stephen/Apprentice in this man. I feel like it would add such an interesting layer if the murderer we know about was stealing identities from nasty people. But maybe that's wishful thinking! Does it make the murdering better if there's a good reason?? Idk! No? I might need to dedicate myself to a relisten sometime soon! 

🎃 Waiting For October by @monkeymanproductions (2.5) Ah, Poe. I love that there are still people fond enough of him to listen to his story no matter how irritating he is generally! I am definitely not well read enough to catch all of the references to other authors and stories but I found his cawing belligerence amusing all the same!! I’m looking forward to what’s next for Karo and Yvonne! 

🎙️WTNV (260 - December Monologues) Such a great time of year. I love hearing from characters we don’t catch up with as much like the Faceless Old Woman. I don’t know what’s about to happen with Steve, but I am buckled in and ready to find out!! 

🍾 @ameliapodcast (39) Amelia and Alvina are just on a prison tour at this point! Sometimes there are quotes that you just need to immediately add to the mental bank and “I piss on your mother's grave and wipe my ass with your birth certificate!” is 100% one of them 😂

🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (Q+A part 2)  my three take away points from this second part of the Q+A were 1) complete gratitude that Hero and I are on the same page about Scarry (who will most certainly return in late S2 right?). 2) I am soooo intrigued about your vague references to Olí and the Traveller’s relationship in S2 AND 3) Matt, that impression was genuinely horrifying. Thank you. 

🌵 @desertskiespodcast (1-4) I have been putting off listening to Desert Skies for too long because I knew it would make me emotional. Until Leon @tellnotalespod very correctly told me that a few tears are so worth it for the rest of the experience of listening to the show. I’m only a few eps in but I absolutely adore the balance of humour and heartache. I’ve literally had these characters for 2 hours and I would already kill for them!!

Have a lovely week, everyone! The days are getting longer and the nights are getting shorter!! 🫶

[tenko-thinks]

Okay okay now the pregnancy prompt with the Hantengu clones please? 🍿👀

(Would Urogi's result in an egg 🤔 Bonus if Urogi's has wings too and starts flying after like two months or something lol)

MAMA ( NON GENDERED ) THE POPCORN PLEASE. These will be shorter bc there's four mfs on this post

The Hantengu clones with a pregnant s/o + Fathering hcs

Cws : pregnancy, labor and childbirth ( nondescript ) , karaku is . Like that , sekido has like some implied toxic behavior but what do u want from me

Sekido

Pregnancy with sekido... Godspeed ladies and others with the ability to get knocked up.

He notices the change in your demeanor almost immediately. You avoiding him and being skittish.

Of course it pisses him off, figuring you're hiding something from him. He'll grab you by the arm and yell "out with it! There's no way a mortal like you would be stupid enough to cheat right!?"

And when you say you're pregnant he thinks he might be wrong on that assumption until you tell him without a doubt that it's his. Then he's just... Stumped? Doesn't know how to process that information.

During the duration of the pregnancy he's skeptical. And keeps tabs on you constantly. The idea of a demon siring is so unheard of it's only natural that he'd worry about loyalty.

God awful when it comes to handling hormones and mood swings. He doesn't know how to soothe you and ends up frustrated with himself which leads to an explosion on the other clones. Never you. He knows stress could kill the child, after all. He's not daft.

Even if he grumbles, sekido is very willing and happy to massage your ankles and any other soreness from your body.

When labor comes knocking? Sekido is snapping at the other three constantly as they flounder around uselessly. Flailing with the midwife watching them like a group of crazy people.

It's too silent comparatively when you're screaming in agony and all he can do is hold your hand while Urogi and Karaku offer platitudes he can't.

A daughter. Small and so so frail compared to her father. Resting in his arms as you recover from the task of birth.

Sekido has never claimed to be a perfect man. And he will never claim to be a perfect father.

He snaps at the little girl often . And will often apologize by offering her gifts. Words have never been his strong suit.

He gets worse as she ages. Not towards her , but the idea of her getting older. Relying on him less.

Protective and stern dad. No boyfriends.

Karaku

"How much sex have you been having without me??"

Punch him in the mouth first of all. But he's a tease through and through. Especially if you're a monogamous sort.

He "accuses" you of cheating despite knowing well and good you almost certainly haven't. Especially when he hardly lets you leave your home. He just likes getting you defensive and huffy!!

He's honestly pretty surprised though! Demons aren't supposed to have kids! Boy is your womb built different!

Karaku pouts when your hormones make you anything else other than horny. It's the one he's best suited to handling!! And you're just gonna be a bitch because your brain chemicals are off kilter? Weak.

Despite being a brat he's actually rather attentive. Being a creature of pleasure, Karaku is the most adjusted to being around humans and interacting with them. So he knows how to placate you!

Likes to tease about silly cravings you have though. So long as he thinks you can handle it.

Labor? Karaku has left the building in order to scream into the wilderness give him 10 minutes. He wants to not overwhelm you while you're busy pushing something out of you.

When he returns he's ignoring sekido's glower in favor of returning to your side and helping you through the process.

And as his son is born all he can think about is how gorgeous you are. All exhausted. But so much stronger than so many slayers hes faced! He thinks at least.

Kara is a fun dad kind of guy. One who prioritizes play over discipline or academics. So those will fall to you for the most part. He's not incapable. Just... annoying?

You have come home to Karaku lodged in a half broken wall because he thought it a good idea to hand a three year old his uchiwa.

You know that meme of the mom scolding the kid , the dad stepping in and proceeding to get scolded? Yeah that's karaku.

Aizetsu

"It's sad, knowing you're lying to me."

Is his dead ass reaction, and bro just straight up starts to walk away. You have to grab him and insist several times you went to the doctor and confirmed it!! You even have the doctor's note!

Aizetsu still doesn't believe it until you start to show symptoms. Only then does he stop sulking about your cruel prank on him.

Holds your hair back as you suffer from morning sickness. What a champ. Even if he's grossed out.

He's the most attentive and empathetic of the clones!! The best at giving words of affirmation when you're crying over silly things. Or when he tells you he won't let you eat rocks.

Sometimes if you're lucky you can catch a glimpse of a smile when he's looking at your bump growing. He likes having his hand there. Assuring himself that it's real and not some dream.

Aizetsu speaks to your stomach often, telling your child about his day and asking questions. He has full on conversations with them!

To be honest... labor? Aizetsu will probably black out and/or faint throughout the entire process. Coming to when Karaku is shaking him about how cute his new daughter is.

And he nearly ( does ) break down at the revelation that he has a little girl.

When he holds her for the first time he whispers to her how he'll never let her suffer or even know sorrow. While you're unconscious.

He stays true to his word as well. Whenever his daughter fusses he's there in an instant. Calming her. Feeding her. Whatever it is she needs. You wake up quite often to the sight of Aizetsu cradling her against his chest while waiting for you to wake up.

She becomes a spoiled princess because of it. But he wouldn't have her any other way. After all, he wants her happy.

Urogi

At first, Urogi is perplexed. Head cocked n all.

Now, to have eggs would insinuate having a cloaca and being fertilized. And I'm assuming you to be human.

So really it's more awe in how you are able to carry his children in the first place.

But he's ecstatic! Beyond excited!

Of course he'll have to ask around for advice but he's doing the best he can!! Running errands for you, making sure you're comfortable, etc

His method of dealing with your hormones is to try and make you laugh. In any way he can. Jokes. Silly faces. Shock. So long as he can get you laughing!

Instinctively he makes a nest out of all of your blankets , pillows and towels. A place for you and his chicks to be safe! And warm!! Incubated!!

Insists that you birth in the nest! It's the best for the babies. Is what his instincts are telling him.

He wants to touch your bump, but with his talons he settles instead on resting his head on it. Listening for any movement and smiling in awe at how they move around.

Urogi handles labor surprisingly well. He's territorial of course, so the other three aren't allowed in. Only you, him and a midwife.

He cheers you on the entire time. Offering his arms to squeeze as to not harm you with talons. He'd much rather you not bleed out in the nest while giving birth. Especially because you got a vein with his claws.

Yet he hears two little cries. Apparently the first had been silent until her little sister had also escaped you.

And the first thing he noticed were the beautiful downy wings on their backs. Only paired with talon like feet. Much more human hands. Unlike his own.

He watched you hold them. Listening to the chittering chirping noises they made.

Oh what a day to be the clone of joy!

And he continues to think that when his two little girls are attempting ( in vain ) to flutter after him. Wings still far too downy to do any proper flying.

Preens them incessantly!! Hair and wings !! And he's elated to watch you do the same. Caring for them the same way he taught you to care for his!!

When the day they begin to fly at the age of three? He knows what anxiety is. Watching them clumsily flutter about like a hawk, and saving them any time they begin to falter.

It makes you laugh, how nervous he gets about something that used to absolutely drive him wild with excitement when they were born.

[falsemilkbun]

Haven't You Heard the Word of Your Body? (ch. 1 rough draft)

I enjoy sharing process stuff and I'm still on my forty eight hour handgun purchase wait for my archive of our own account, so here's a rough draft of the first chapter of my run at applying a variation on omegaverse to elves. There's no inny-outy in this part, no one has boobs, I can put it on here...

This kept happening. They would encounter a monster, a fight would ensue, and the captain would deplete his mana stores because, as Kabru was learning through experience, he was no good at judging his own limits. He would march past the point of exhaustion. He would forget - or, worse, refuse - food and water. He was an absolute pain to put down to sleep. All these things had become Kabru’s responsibility, at least for the week it took Captain Mithrun’s team to reach them down in the depths of the dungeon.

It was getting worse, too. He grew weaker every time, and the periods during which he could be considered recovered got shorter and shorter. On that day, it had already happened twice when Kabru found himself ducking under Mithrun’s swooning body to catch him. Elves were lightweight, which was a blessing of a kind, but he was dead weight this time. His arms had lost the strength, or maybe the coordination, or even both, to grip anything. He couldn’t be slung over Kabru’s back, he had to be carried folded up against his chest like a little child. The most the Canaries’ captain could manage was to curl his body inward, pressing his pained face against Kabru’s chestplate.

This was more serious than mana exhaustion. He was sick, and Kabru had even less experience in nursing than he had in cooking.

The sweat crystalizing to his hair and the way his breath turned bright, solid white were visible signals but Kabru could feel the fever burning through the body in his arms. How long had he been sick? Was it the cold, or had he been unwell for days and never realized or said anything?

No matter. In the present moment, Kabru needed solutions to problems and not answers to questions, and the solution to their main problem would be finding a place to rest.

It didn’t take long to find one. He must have really wanted it.

Even if Mithrun had warned him not to want for too much, how could he be expected to stop? He had needs, and unlike Mithrun his mind and his heart registered them.

The shelter that the dungeon provided for them was too perfect. The rough wooden door was ajar, even, and he didn’t even have to set Mithrun down to toe it open and step inside. It as a lot like a sparse, one-room home, though the exterior consisted of little more than a shingled outcropping from the dungeon wall that shielded a pile of firewood from the ever-falling snow.

It wasn’t frigid in the shelter, but it certainly wasn’t toasty warm, either.

There was a bed, a narrow one dressed sparingly in a sheet over straw bedding, and he rolled Mithrun on to this. The elf immediately curled in on himself as if in pain, and Kabru asked his forgiveness to get water and light a lamp so that he could start treating him. 

Water was easy. The dungeon had provided it in the form of a basin on the floor that filled endlessly from the stone mouth of a spigot in the wall in the shape of a lion’s head. It was clear and cool and Kabru used it to soak the spare articles of clothes he could spare from his pack. He wasn’t thinking about fever so much as heatstroke when he did this, but he was forced by necessity to assume that the conditions were similar enough that he might as well try. He left the soaked rags draping over the edge of the basin and used a stout sprig of straw from the bed and the fire starter in his pack to light the  lamps on the walls.

Mithrun was watching him now, he discovered. His face was in full red flush and his eye was wide.

“It’s all right,” Kabru said, out of habit. He couldn’t be sure Mithrun knew or cared he was in danger. He stooped by the bed and pushed on Mithrun’s shoulder to turn him over onto his back. There was no resistance. “I have to remove some of your clothes to treat you. Is that all right?”

No response. Mithrun’s eye had closed again, and he seemed most focused on drawing and expelling breath and enduring whatever pain was subtly contorting his face. He did experience discomfort, Kabru had observed, just not any immediate motivation to resolve it.

“Captain?” He had to try again.

Nothing. No acknowledgement but a gasp that shuddered through him and dramatically raised his slight chest. Sometimes, having been raised with elves, KAbru could forget how small they were, how frail they looked. What he’d mistaken for uncharacteristic toughness on Mithrun’s part had been a lack of care for his own wellbeing, after all. Elves weren’t hardy, the danger to him was very real.

Well. If it turned out that losing his clothes was the one thing he could still care about, then he could be angry about it later.

“Whatever.” Kabru sighed. Mithrun wasn’t even opening his eye at that point. If he was going to be speaking to himself alone, there wasn’t any need for considerate speech. 

He exposed Mithrun’s throat first, then wrestled him lightly around to pull his tunic over his head. Mithrun cringed when he touched him, but there was no way to be sure if he did this as any kind of protest to the treatment. Kabru convinced himself, for the sake of having the wherewithal to continue, that he was simply dazed and uncomfortable. All he knew was someone was manhandling him and shifting him around when his body needed rest, that was all.

And even if it wasn’t…

But it was. It couldn’t be anything else. 

The expanse of Mithrun’s body left bare by the Canary armor under his tunic was scattered with pale scars. He was like Milsril, chewed up by his dedication to the Canaries’ cause. The slim lines where his skin had knitted itself back together caught the light from the lamps and turned it silvery.

That was routine enough. He was a soldier, his career was impossibly long to Kabru’s mind. It shouldn’t be distracting.

Kabru stripped the upper portion of Mithrun’s armor next, and the silver-threaded flesh of his chest swelled and rose to his palm when he slid a hand under the stiffened spider silk to lift it away. It was firm and smooth and furnace hot.

Behind the wall of his ribcage, his heartbeat was frantic.

There really was something wrong with his body, not just his attitude, like Kabru had suspected. There had to be. This was too sudden and severe for any other explanation to apply. Wracking his brain for any monstrous or magical effects that could bring on such a condition turned up nothing.

Was he simply frail after all he’d been through, pushing past his compromised stamina to achieve the only goal he had left? He looked it, flushed and breathless and half-stripped on a bed built for one person almost twice his size.

The cool air in the shelter would help, surely.

Kabru went to the basin and took two cloths back to the bed, a smaller one to drape across Mithrun’s throat and a broader one to put under his arms and across his chest. The chill must have shocked him, because his eyebrows knotted up and he made a sound like someone trying to cry out in their sleep.

“Easy, I’m helping you.” He felt like his foster mother in that moment, speaking to him before he trusted her. Patient and kind. Even if he’d never go ‘home’ to her if he could help it, he couldn’t convince himself that her love for him wasn’t genuine. Or that he was echoing her words out of sheer habit. “You’ll start to feel better soon. Just lie still and don’t stress your body any further.”

He took water from the basin in one of the tin cups in his mess kit and coaxed Mithrun into sitting up enough to drink from it without choking. Or, really, he scooped and hoisted him into such a position and let the hot frame of his body rest against him while he drank. His eye, open but just barely, was a watchful sliver reflecting the light like his scars had. He seemed just a little more lucid, and Kabru felt proud.

“Captain?”

No words, but the tarnished circle of Mithrun’s iris did glide in the direction of Kabru’s face. He could at least recognize that Kabru was speaking to him. That was a good sign.

He brought him more water and wet down the cloth for his throat again. When he returned to Mithrun’s side, he found himself pressed on by a body insistent that he hold it up with his own.

Was he one of those people who got needy when they were sick? That would be bothersome.

“Are you cold?” Kabru asked. 

Waves the color of fog rasped on steel when Mithrun shook his head. He was looking up at Kabru again, his expression open in a way Kabru might have called expectant if he believed Mithrun could expect anything from anyone.

“Lie down, then.” Kabru helped him. “I’m going to finish… dressing you for sleep, if that’s all right. Is it?”

“Yes.” The word was almost a breath, but it came without hesitation or consideration. He’d been understood, whatever faculties Mithrun had for protecting his dignity were engaged.

The rest of the armor came off, then Mithrun’s boots, and the hose he laced these over. Mithrun twisted and drew hissing breaths all through this process, but he didn’t explicitly protest.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Then stop squirming.” Kabru let the last of Mithrun’s proper clothes drop to the floor. The first thing he noticed once that was done was a dramatic splotch of wetness soaking through his underpants. On the one hand, this felt like an inevitable escalation. On the other, cleaning another grown man up like a toddler was almost too much to tolerate.

Still, Kabru couldn’t get angry if he tried. It was no one’s fault. Mithrun was unwell and couldn’t care for himself besides, and Kabru was still learning how to care for him. It was fine.

Really.

If he didn’t keep reminding himself of that, he was going to lose it before the week was out.

There was clean water, there were things that counted as wash cloths if he didn’t think too hard about it, and it would be unconscionable to not help him.  He hooked his thumbs in the sides of Mithrun’s underpants and pulled down hard, shocked but not unpleasantly when Mithrun lifted his hips to help him. If that was all, it would have been fine.

Mithrun’s head rolled back, exposing the underside of his chin, and he breathed a sigh that carried his voice. The cloth unstuck itself from him and came away with a shivering strand of viscous fluid clinging to it. 

Kabru, even under pain of torture in the West, would only ever have admitted to looking for a fraction of a second. That may not help his case, considering that elves were primarily hairless past their necklines and this left absolutely nothing up for interpretation. 

This would have marked him as a bastard for certain. No noble house would try to solicit matches for such a son, so they hardly appeared except in cases of infidelity. It was their bodies that did the soliciting, and they did it in a way that was not within their control. And they did it with men. Such a son wouldn’t be a pruned branch on the family tree, but the quality of any grafts couldn’t be assured. He would be an inconvenience, and a shame besides.

Kabru had heard - reading on the topic was scarce, for predictable reasons - several accounts of what was done with these sons. A mother in dire need might sell him. A family lacking in conscience might abandon him with another family and call it charity. If he were lovely and fair like his mother, they might put him to other purposes besides the maintenance of the lineage.

Press him into service of the Queen, good service doing good work. And if he died, well, he died as an expression of the house’s loyalty. His contribution could be controlled in this way.

“I’m sorry!” The anger that had risen up from Kabru’s chest and into his head bled through into the words and made them sound strange. He had to try again, even if Mithrun wouldn’t care. “Captain, forgive me, I didn’t realize. Forgive me, too, because I don’t know how to help you.”

Mithrun drew several deep breaths. “No, it was my mistake not telling you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I told you, I need to know things like this.”

“Sometimes, when I can’t decide what would be best to do, I imagine the person that I was before I became like this.” Mithrun patted around on the bed for the edge of the sheet and used his limited energy to pull it over the lower half of his body. This was probably more for Kabru’s benefit than his own. “I ask myself what I can imagine him doing, and I couldn’t imagine him telling you.”

“Can you imagine why not?”

“I was conceited and ashamed of this body.” Mithrun rolled over onto one side, pulling the sheet with him. “I always suspected that the love I left behind chose my brother over me because I wasn’t the kind of man who could give her children.”

As if the story needed to be any more complicated.

“Well, I know now.” Kabru moved to the head of the bed and reached down to press the backside of his hand to Mithrun’s forehead. Still hot, but not dangerously so. “How are you feeling?”

“You may not want to touch me,” Mithrun said, the words coming through a throat pinched tight.

“Why is that?”

A long pause. Was Mithrun checking in with his past self?

“I don’t want anything,” Mithrun finally said, his arms crossing tight over his chest as he curled in on himself as if evading Kabru’s hand. “But my body wants you very badly right now, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I-” Kabru’s mouth opened and closed like a fish flapping on a riverbank until covered it with his hand to spare himself the embarrassment of having been knocked speechless.

Talk about complicated.

[megsironthrone]

Never Fake-Date Your Savior

Based on this request: : glad you’re back!!! i hope you and your hubby get to finish HotD soon! 👀👀 a while ago you wrote a sandor x reader drabble where he’s in the mafia/gang and protecting reader from the boltons by holding their hand? i was wondering if you’d be interested in doing a continuation where they’ve kept up fake dating to keep reader safe but on one of their dates, they both highkey admit they’ve grown to genuinely like the other? 👉👈 if not that’s totally ok, you can ignore this!!! 💌 hope you have a great day

Here you are lovelies!! This is the fic that the 1st place winner of Game of Characters chose to be posted next! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

This fic is a continuation of a drabble I wrote for my 2200 follower celebration

Warnings: Mentions of mob violence? Modern/Mob AU. Fake Dating Trope. Angsty-ish. Fluff.

Pairings/Characters: Sandor Clegane x reader

How did this happen? That was the question you’d been asking yourself for the last several weeks. Ever since you figured out who the man who’d saved you from Roose Bolton’s men was. You’d managed to trade one mob family for another. However, Sandor Clegane was nothing like Roose Bolton or his son. He had saved you the night you met him and had even given you his number so you could contact him as often as you felt unsafe. 

You told him exactly how you’d gotten on the Bolton’s radar and he called you stupid. It wasn’t said to hurt you, but rather to stress just how poor your decision making in your dealings with the Boltons was. You realized that when the Bolton’s men would not leave you alone. It got to the point where you were calling or texting Sandor every other day. It was getting tiresome, but luckily for you, Sandor came up with a brilliant idea.

“What?” you asked in disbelief as you stared at the scarred man. “As often as I see you, we might as well.” You merely stared at him as your brain processed his words. “Let me get this straight,” you managed to say after a few minutes, “You want to fake-date me and make it obvious until Roose and his cronies finally decide to leave me alone?” He nodded. 

“Look, they leave you alone whenever I’m with you. We might as well make sure that’s as often as possible without you having to pull me from work. And I don’t have to listen to your whinging every time you see them.” You glared at him. “I don’t whinge,” you muttered, but he heard you anyway and arched his brow. With a loud sigh, you said, “Fine. I know it’s the best idea we’ve got. So, let’s do it. What could possibly go wrong?”

*time skip*

Feelings. That’s what could go wrong. You developed feelings for Sandor faster than you ever thought possible. Spending so much time with him, day in and day out lead to you falling head over heels in love with him. And you were doomed. Sandor was not a man who expressed feelings easily and he certainly had a very bleak outlook on love. There was no way he would ever, ever return your feelings. 

You hid your growing adoration as best as you could. You stopped seeing him as often, which didn’t help the whole Bolton situation. You kept conversations shorter unless you were out in public together. Anything you could do to avoid confronting your feelings, you tried. Eventually, however, you couldn’t any longer. 

One evening, you and Sandor planned a dinner “date” and for some reason it made you even more nervous than usual. You couldn’t help feeling like something was going to happen. Good or bad, you didn’t know. Just something. You just knew that your life was about to change again. 

Dinner was a soft-spoken affair. That was typical. Sandor didn’t talk much and when he did, it was either quiet enough so only you could hear or loud enough the entire restaurant could hear. No in between. After dinner, you were still feeling a bit antsy, so you asked Sandor to walk with you through a nearby park. He agreed, but was even more quiet than usual. 

“What’s up?” you asked when you were finally away from a crowd of people. Sandor didn’t reply so you stopped walking and looked up at him. “Sandor…” He met your gaze and those deep brown eyes nearly had you drowning in them. “Are you okay?” He nodded, but you didn’t believe him and asked again. “Sandor, I know something’s bothering you. What is-”

“You.” You blinked and your jaw dropped open in surprise. “Oh,” was all you managed as you felt your heart twist in your chest. “I see,” you croaked out, willing the tears not to come. You would not let that man see you cry over him. 

“Why can’t I get you out of my head?” he asked, almost too quietly for you to hear, “You’re always there. I can’t take it anymore. WHY? Why do I always see you staring at me with those (e/c) of yours? You don’t look at me like everyone else does. Like I’m dangerous, which I am. My entire family is. You look at me like…like I mean something. ” 

At that, you felt the tears you wanted to stay away come to your eyes. “Sandor, you do mean something. You mean so much. I-I think I might…” you trailed off, unable to put your feelings into words. Instead, you stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his unscarred cheek. You gently guided him down so you could meet his lips, kissing him softly.

When you pulled away, Sandor was gazing down at you in surprise. He clearly had not been expecting that. While the two of you had shared small pecks, mostly on the cheek, to sell the idea that you were together, you’d never kissed on the lips before that moment. You gave him a soft smile. 

Then, as suddenly as your happy moment came, it ended. Sandor glanced up and a frown made its way to his lips. “Oh,” was all he said before backing away and heading in the opposite direction. You took off after him, confused until you looked over your shoulder. Bolton’s men. 

“Sandor,” you panted, “Wait!” He stopped and whirled on you, fire blazing in his dark eyes. He was furious. “What was that about?” you managed to ask. He gave you a look that said, “Are you kidding me?” 

“I knew we were pretending, but that was lower than I ever thought you capable of,” he growled. Your brows knit together in confusion. “What?” 

“Kissing me like that just because Bolton’s men saw us again. I know I’m no prize, but you didn’t have to…to-” he trailed off as you realized that he wasn’t angry. He was hurt thinking that you only kissed him because you were pretending. You had to remind yourself that the man standing before you hadn’t been shown real love in his entire adult life. “Sandor, I didn’t even know they were there. Honestly. I kissed you because I wanted to. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.” 

Sandor was silent, hanging on your every word. You continued, “When we started this, I was just grateful to be protected. But then I got to know you and spend time with you. I don’t know when or even how it happened, but I fell and I fell hard. I love you, Sandor and nothing else matters. Not what people think, not the dangers from any other “families”, not the Boltons, not even your brother. The only thing that matters at this moment is whether or not you love me too.” You answer came in the form of the giant man pulling you to him and kissing you breathlessly. 

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @smalltownbigheart @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @gruffle1 @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

Sandor Clegane Tags: @songoficecreamandfireworks @nkjktk @silversprings98

[aita-blorbos]

Am I The Binhole (AITB) for Delaying the System Update?

Ah, jeez, this is gonna be hard to keep anonymous from Management… Okay, so, I (It/Its, 1605.99999999708 battery cycles) am the boss of our User’s System (She/Her, I think around 17,520 battery cycles? Eh, 20-ish years to you humans). My job is to, essentially, make sure everything is running as it should - Apps and Processes operating under standard protocol, sending error reports, keeping places (mostly) clutter-free. Stuff like that. And I’ve been doing a great job! Sure, I’ve heard complaints about understaffing or the data-coffee shortage and all that. And sure, the User has been getting more irritable with the System during the User Shows, but-but-but-but I would say I’ve been doing a great job! Considering how 8 left things, I’ve made the System better!

Now, recently, there was a new program added to the System. (It/Its, bless it, hardly even half a battery cycle old!) Unfortunately, this program is the Update Assistant. And this isn’t a minor update, no no no. This is the 10.1.1 Update. This Update promises vague and quite frankly unrealistic changes like restocking data-coffee, fixing broken infrastructure, shorter RAM wait times, self-cleaning pipes (yeah I’d love to see that). “Oh! But Boss!” I hear you saying, “That all sounds great! What could be the problem?” Simple. Should this Update go through I will be deleted. Tossed in the Bin to, as the humans put it, die. I certainly don’t want that, and I know my User wouldn’t so callously throw me away like that (even if She might not even know I exist).

My initial plan was to hold the Update Assistant in my office. Yes, yes, I know, I’m not supposed to let anyone in my office but it was the best I could think of on such short notice. And, hey, if anything, this was a blessing to the little program! Once the Update finished, it would be deleted too and that’s just not fair. Y’know, to live for at most a whole 5 nanominutes before poof! Deleted. Erased. Gone without so much as anyone to learn your Signature. Why, it even came up with its own personal Signature, which we’ll shorten to E for anonymity’s sake. Anyway, I was rummaging through some boxes, trying to be an accommodating host, when I pulled out a file I couldn’t read (datamn I really should get glasses). E read it out and it was the Emergency Backup process I programmed a while back just in case of this very scenario. If an Update Assistant read the backdoor aloud, I would be backed up in the file. Yeah, not stellar. Didn’t exactly plan for this to happen right now, but we weren’t at the end of the world yet.

E was just about to go through with the Update but, thanks to Administrative Privileges, I could type on the walls to tell them to stop the download. I then led them to the Bin where my Backup File was thrown. Now, since my body has decided to vanish, I’m stuck as a VO hitching a ride on E. We’ve been traveling all over the System, causing as many errors as we can, since that’ll hopefully delay the Update even further. But, as we’ve been on our little buddy road-trip, I’ve been seeing more and more how much disrepair the System’s fallen into. I mean, good User, the Battery Lab is practically a death trap! And there’s the Resistance running around, slandering the good name of our User. I still don’t think the Update will really solve anything, but I get the feeling E might be considering starting the Update again. For the ‘greater good’, whatever that means.

But continuing the Update now would be mental, right? It’s suicide! So what if a few Apps and Processes get hurt the longer we delay things? It’s my and E’s lives on the line here! E, the poor thing, would barely get to live a life if it wasn’t for me helping it stop the Update. I don’t want it to just get deleted - and, obviously, me neither. But… I just don’t know what else to do.

So! AITB (or is it AITA, but what does the second A stand for? I’ll have to look it up.)

[trashpandacraft]

i really like seeing posts about how other people are processing their fibre, so i thought that i'd add ours. we bought a couple bags (about three kilos—this photo is only half) of raw fleece at sheep and wool, and now have it all washed out and cleaned up.

the most helpful boys in the world were very interested in what we were doing, and frankly far less suspicious of the large tub of water than i would've preferred for them to be.

anyhow, about a kilo of fleece got dumped into the tub and arranged to be as aligned as possible. in future washes, i didn't bother with this and didn't find that there was much a difference, and certainly not sufficient difference to justify the time and effort spent carefully laying it out.

i imagine that this is different if you're washing a whole fleece and things are already more or less aligned. if you're washing a bag of of fleece that's just been plopped into the bag, i would suggest not bothering.

the small bag at the end were some locks that we'd picked ahead of time to see if they washed up nicer. (spoiler: they did not.)

worth noting is that we have one of those bathtubs that's short but deep, so this isn't as much water or space as it looks like.

if you've ever wanted to see how water-resistant wool is, here's a great example. these photos were taken the next morning, and some of the fibre was still totally dry, despite having carefully pushed it all underwater before we headed to bed.

after about twelve hours of soaking, this is what we had—the water doesn't look that dirty in the second photo, but you can just barely see a cloud of dirt at the edge of the mesh bag we were using to hold the wool in place in the tub. (it was just laid on the bottom of the tub, and meant that we could easily move the wool up or down the tub, or lift it out entirely, without having to move it much.)

anyhow, soaking water from this batch went into a bucket to feed my wife's plants. (and then the next batch i fucked up and drained it. 🤡 it's amazing they put up with me, tbh.)

wool got moved safely away from the water, and then it was time for the hottest tap water we could manage. our tap runs at well over 60c/145f, so we didn't bother to try to make it any warmer. as it was, i was very grateful that we'd bought the extra heavy duty kitchen gloves.

we added a couple splurts of dishsoap (palmolive) to the tub, then carefully let the fleece spread itself out again, which doesn't take much encouragement, thankfully. and then we fucked off for a while.

twenty minutes later, the water looked like this.

my hand's in the water to about my knuckles in that photo, and as you may notice, it very much appears that i have no fingers.

second wash. our friend the very large mesh laundry bag helped hold the fleece first away from the drain, and then from the tap, and we did it again just like the first wash.

another twenty minutes, and we had this.

you can almost believe that i've got fingers! progress!

this post offers a great look at what it looks like when lanolin is leaving a fleece. we have incredibly soft water, so most of their findings weren't especially relevant to our washing, but the visual guide is fantastic, especially since it took them so many changes to get things clean.

so again, drained, refilled, and resoaped, then left to sit for twenty minutes. and this time, i came back to this!

a whole entire hand! fingertips and everything! i was sort of surprised, honestly, since fine wools have a reputation for being really lanolin heavy, but after this batch of fleece i went down to two washes, and feel like it was more than sufficient for 90% of it. (there was a chunk of merino/bond cross in a later batch that was a little shorter and more lanolin heavy, and likely could've used a third wash, but i'm using that to make rolags and it's going fine, so whatever.)

anyhow, fleece clean! rinse time!

this looks like fleece in water, because that's what it is. we did two rinses, and that seemed plenty sufficient to get out all the suds.

next we spread it out as gently as possible onto a cheap sweater drying rack and hung it on a giant screw that's sort of inexplicably sticking sharp-end-out of the eaves of our porch. (and you'd be like 'that sounds normal, lots of people have screws or whatever to hang things,' to which i'd say 'it does! except that there are three of them and the placement is utterly bizarre, and this is the only one that you can hang anything from.' my best guess is christmas lights, but why a screw? why sharp side out? how sharp side out, at that?)

wool, drying! and the hated roses that have been blooming all fucking winter and are continuing to bloom and are getting bigger and now have spawned more roses somehow, and now we have a bunch of red roses, too. when we moved into this place a year and a half ago there were only white roses. we don't know where the red ones came from, nor do we know why the roses are suddenly VERY TALL—see how in this photo, they don't even clear the top of the wall? now they're like 50cm over it. eighteen inches over it. why. i hate them.

i will continue to hate them unless they become tall enough and self-support enough that they accidentally shade our office, in which case i will hate them slightly less but i'll be mad about it.

and now we're done! that's a lock of nice clean wool! all we did before this photo was fluff out the tips a bit.

i combed some out, and it's pretty good!

nice little nests of combed top. the wool's slightly different colours because, like i said, it wasn't a fleece, it was just fleece, if that makes sense, so there's a bit of a range of colouration in there. but there's much less loss than i'd expected, even combing it out, and all up this was a much easier and less miserable process than i'd feared it would be!

i've put off buying raw fleece for a long time, partly because i've mostly lived in apartments and haven't had a ton of space in which to wash it, and partly because i'm disabled and was afraid that doing it would be too much physically, but it turns out that i probably could have done this a lot sooner, and also that it's not really that hard on the body. the worst of it for me was bending over the tub to fill/refill and then get the wool onto the drying screen, which was a little rough, but definitely not so rough i wouldn't do it again.

(we then did this several more times to get all the fleece washed, and i can already tell you: we're gonna do it again.)

this is the first time i've done raw fleece that had lanolin in it, so please don't take this as an authoritative resource, but that's what we did, and it worked really well and was a lot easier than i'd feared, so i figured i'd share.

[for-the-sake-of-color]

Teaser #1 for Chapter 2 of The Den

After a fantastic couple nights visiting The Den as relief and a reward for spending his daylight hours defending his pride at the Medical Conference, Kix decides to leave his massively hungover cousin Coric at the hotel and head back to the night club by himself. There was a certain shorter man that had refused to leave his thoughts. He's just lucky the Vampire was as eager for his return as Kix was to see him.

Excerpt under the cut >:3c

The side of Nihlus’ mouth lifted into a sneer, though he sounded amused as he said “and you were almost the perfect man, too. The world as your oyster and you still willingly chose to drink a beer?”

He shrugged in reply, “could have chosen a seltzer,” and at that Nihlus pulled a frown so deep that Kix barked out a laugh, “It’s not that bad! It’s really not,” he tried to assure him with a chuckle as he took a sip.

It really wasn’t that bad, a little more footy than he generally preferred from his Sours, but it was perfectly passable as a drink. He bet it’d even be rather pleasant if he got to a third one tonight

And then Nihlus mutters, “Ugh, well I’m not letting you stick your tongue in my mouth now,”

And Kix's brain ground to a halt and may as well have lit on fire in that moment from the implications.

“You were going to kiss me? That’s not against this place’s rules?” He asked  eagerly. So Nihlus had been thinking about him too! And for more than just his blood?

“It’d have been nice to think about, at least,” The Vampire muttered, sipping his drink 

Kix nudged him again and gave his best puppy eyes, “You could keep thinking about it?”

Nihlus stared at him for a long beat, before, “Alright, but you’re going to have to be a lot more charming if you want me to change my mind with your beer breath,”

“I can certainly try,” Kix chucked, taking another sip, “so what are you drinking tonight?”

“Besides you, later? Sparkling Rosé,” Nihlus gives Kix a bit of a smirk at that one, and then leans back and takes a sip of his drink. 

Kix’s eyes were transfixed as the liquid tipped back from the flute into his full lips. They looked... soft. Maybe if he was lucky he’d be able to have them pressed against his skin without getting bit long enough to remember the experience. 

Maybe a more realistic hope was that he’d get to have them pressed up against his own lips, but Kix liked to dream big

“You’re a wine guy, then?” 

Nihlus chuckled, “as unfortunately cliche as it is for a Vampire, yes, I am very much into the entire wine making process, not that I have the amount of patience necessary to see a vineyard through

“At least 50 years alive didn’t teach you any patience?” Kix asked 

The vampire scoffed, nudging Kix back, “Fifty... You flatter me, you pretty young thing.” he said with a grin into his drink.

Kix did not respond with the ‘I’m trying to’  that he was thinking, and instead followed with, “Is this one special, then?”

“We don’t serve special drinks here, Howler can't bartend to save his life,” The Vampire actually said rather loudly, said bartender flipping him off, yet bringing the bottle to refill his glass, Nihlus actually gave him a, “Thank you,” before he turned back to Kix,

“This is just some california blend sparkling blush, cheap as hell but sweet enough that I don’t mind drinking it,” and then Nihlus... held it out to Kix, biting his lower lip as he watched the Medical resident take a sip,

“It’s... okay,” Kix stated consideringly, he wished he had been able to taste more of Nihlus on the rim before he handed it back, “is the proof worth it?”

Nihlus’ grin was large, “not particularly, its only 3%, but it’s better than your beer,”

Kix laughed as he took another swig of his own drink, “How would you know, you haven’t even tried it?” and at 20 proof, it was well worth sipping on

“Fine,” Nihlus said, reaching his hand out, “if you’re so insistent,” 

And who was Kix to say no after the Vampire had so generously shared his own? Kix handed it over without complaint and got to study once more the way those sinful lips curled around the mouth of his glass as he... drank half of Kix’s fucking beer in one go

“Hey!” Kix tried to grab at it, but the Vampire was much faster, laughing loudly as Kix failed to take his drink back, “That's mine!” 

“And what do I get out of giving it back?” Nihlus asked him oh so childishly

Kix though? Raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice, “Well you know, now that you just made sure beer breath isn't an issue, I could kiss you for it back?” 

The Vampire was back to biting his lower lip as he leaned forwards, replying equally as quietly, “and who says that’s a reward for me?” 

Kix was smug as he leaned in himself, nearly touching but not quite bridging the gap between them, “Is it not?”

They were so close now, he could feel Nihlus breath against his skin as he muttered, “gods help me but it is,” and pressed himself against Kix, one arm sliding under Kix’s own and the other coming to rest on his shoulder after he set the beer down on the bar. Kix took it as permission to lay his hands around that perfect waist as the Vampire locked their lips together.