#but really this is just a post about me thirsting after chase

[just-testing-my-theory-old]

I'm literally feral for this man why is he so hot

[devildom-moss]

idk how to verbalise this idea properly so bear with me but: mc whose entire logic in life is 'fuck it we ball' including when it comes to romance, so they just completely go along with any attempts at flirting in a sort of "yes, and-" fashion

which probably only encourages said suitor and then mc has the Audacity to be surprised when it gets intense enough for them to realise they're actually being seduced lol

gn mc with just the brothers for now pls!! thank u for your services

Hopefully this request is what you were looking for. Honestly, I had a bit of confusion while writing, but I tried. I went with headcanons because that seemed like the best fit. Thanks for the request.

gn!MC who casually flirts back with the demon brothers headcanons

(and then has the audacity to be surprised that they're being genuinely pursued)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +2700

Lucifer

Lucifer is an awful flirt, trying so hard to fluster MC and convince them of his dominance. (Where’s it at though? I don’t see it.) His flirting is so suggestive that it’s actually pretty easy to just assume it’s a bit of playful teasing between friends.

For MC, it plays out like those posts that say something and then escalate immediately – something like “Kiss your homies goodnight. Kiss them with tongue. Eat their ass.”

Having an MC who flirts back with him can be a bit embarrassing, and it gets Lucifer’s hopes up so much. (“Could you pour me another cup of coffee, MC?” “Third one this morning, Luci. Not sleeping well?” “I’m afraid not. Perhaps you should come over and help – but then again, we might not get much sleep if you do.” “Aw, Luci, do you want me to fuck you senseless to help you fall asleep?” “If you’re offering, who am I to refuse.”)

He’ll be frustrated that MC keeps flirting with him, but they never follow through.

Lucifer is so horny that it’s absurd. MC could be completely normal, and this man would be thirsting. (“I really don’t want to do this lesson. This chapter is so boring.” “Normally, I wouldn’t use positive reinforcement, but if you complete your work, I’ll reward you.” “What kind of reward?” “Come to my room tonight and find out.”)

Poor MC doesn’t realize they’re being seduced until Lucifer has dragged them into his bed.

“Sleep with me.” “I’m not really tired, Lucifer.” “Good. Then you’ll have plenty of energy to make out and maybe even fuck me – if you want.” His touch would be so intimate – rubbing their inner thigh or groping their ass. “IF I WHAT?!?”

Lucifer would turn pink up to his ears. Part of him thinks MC is just teasing him again, but he would quickly realize that they’re being genuine. He’d feel absolutely humiliated. Did they not want him at all? Did all of that flirting mean nothing?

Before he could die from the shame, Lucifer would manage to blurt out, “Do you want me or not?” He wants some honest commitment in return for his affection, and if MC won’t bring that, that’s unacceptable. Of course, there is some thrill in a chase, but in that moment, Lucifer won’t have it in him. It would be a battle to fight some other day.

If MC tells him no or gives a half-hearted response, he will ask them to leave his room with one hand covering his blushing face. He wouldn’t even be able to look at them as he closed the door – and he’d probably avoid them for a day or two. (Also, he might cry a little after the door is locked).

If MC insists that they do want him, he’ll be especially needy while also acting all sadistic – attempting to tease them to distract from his own embarrassment. This poor loser will require so many kisses to reinflate his ego.

Mammon

To be fair, Mammon would bring this upon himself. He loves to act like he’s uninterested – constantly interrupting his fawning and puppy-like following of MC to save himself from the absolute humiliation of being *gasp* honest about his feelings.

I can see Mammon regularly initiating flirting, but this man can’t follow through to save his own life (maybe to save the life of someone else, though). An MC who reciprocates his flirting would leave him a blushing, flustered mess. Most of the time, his embarrassment cuts the interaction short.

“Ya just can’t get enough of the Great Mammon, can ya?” “Of course not, you handsome devil~” “I- uh! Hmph! Damn right!” he’d say it, crossing his arms and avoiding eye contact while the blush rises in his cheeks. How is MC supposed to respond?

If they tease him further and flirt more, he’ll just yell and tell them to knock it off. If they just shrug it off and move on, Mammon will be too flustered to make another move on them that day. The flirtatious spark just kind of fizzles out like a defective firecracker.

It takes a lot of boldness on Mammon’s end to get MC to realize he’s being serious. And honestly, Mammon is so adorable, MC may have the opportunity to take the initiative and push things a little further first. (You want to tell me most MCs could just flirt with Mammon, reducing him to a blushing, aggressive mess, and go back to watching that movie or playing that video game upon Mammon’s belligerent demand, and not want to kiss his face? Okay, sure.)

But let’s ignore that thought and say MC follows Mammon’s flirting in the “yes, and” fashion. After Mammon continuously sabotages his own chances, eventually, he’s going to get so frustrated that he will smother his own shyness long enough to get what he wants.

He’ll get MC alone and string together some make-shift confession – a plea for more. “Ya know, if ya wanna kiss the Great Mammon or somethin’, I’m not gonna stop ya – like, I mean, I want a little more outta ya. So, don’t hold back just cause ya think I don’t want to or nothin’.” (translation: Please kiss me. I know I act like I don’t want you, but I really, really want you to kiss me. Please, please, please.)

His face will burn, and a blush will work its way up to his ears. It’ll be hard to deny the intensity of his feelings, and it will weigh down on MC – a truth previously held in a bag on their back, tethered to dozens of helium balloons that disguised its weight, and then suddenly found every string cut loose by Mammon’s admission. He really loved them. For his confession, all Mammon would get was a stunned but heartfelt “oh.”

He gets so upset and embarrassed that MC didn’t realize he was being serious before. He went on a rollercoaster of emotions; meanwhile, this whole time, they hadn’t even taken his advances in earnest. It’s practically offensive.

The only remedy for Mammon’s bruised dignity is for MC to immediately hold and kiss him until he’s temporarily satisfied. (“Ya owe me big time for not takin’ me seriously.”)

Leviathan

I mean, he kind of has to flirt before MC can flirt back – unless we’re going to count accidentally blurting out his innermost perverted desires as flirting. Sure, I suppose it’s basically flirting to tell someone “It’s sexy when you tell me what to do. I can’t stop imagining you doing that in other settings.”

He’s so bad at flirting that nothing will happen for a long time after he realizes he’s head over heels. Levi is fine spending the rest of his (or at least MC’s) life pining for them – or at least he believes that. But the longing and desire will start to creep in, and he’ll wonder how much he can ask from MC. Friends can hold hands and maybe even cuddle, right? Maybe even kiss? Could they even –?

The thoughts eat away at him until he can’t wait for MC to make the move anymore. It slips out of him like some mating request written by Dr. Suess: “Would you –? Could you –? With an otaku? A gross, disgusting one, too?”

Levi is so visibly flustered that he doesn’t leave much room for ignorance. Even the most extreme masochist wouldn’t subject themselves to the furiously blushing, trembling state that Leviathan had worked himself into. He’d be on the brink of tears. All his hope in the world would be precariously perched on a ledge, awaiting your response.

I can’t see MC not knowing that Levi was attempting to seduce them, but perhaps the timing of it came as a surprise. Or perhaps they had never taken his affection seriously. He has so many favorites that he can’t pursue; just because he has a massive crush on MC doesn’t mean he had plans to act on it.

He will get even more embarrassed and down on himself to know that MC didn’t take him seriously at first. He understands, but that doesn’t make it any less hurtful.

He will require physical reassurance – as much of it as MC is willing to give him. And honestly, if MC doesn’t end up kissing him until he forgets how to think after his confession, he’ll probably hide in his room for a few weeks purely out of shame.

Satan

With an MC like this, the back-and-forth flirting goes on for an inordinate amount of time. Satan is not a flirt by any definition, but when there’s someone he likes, he knows how to turn on the charm. He’s smart, passionate, and mentally quick on his feet; he’s a natural charmer for the right audience.

Satan moves pretty slow when romance is concerned. If Levi wasn’t such a hopeless cause (affectionately), Satan would probably be the slowest to escalate a romantic relationship. He and MC will have a dozen dates under their belts before the desire for more had become an unbearable burden for Satan to silently ignore.

Eventually, Satan would find himself reading in his room with MC, unable to hold back anymore. He would ask, “Would you mind if I kissed you?” “No, I don’t mind if you want to.” “Could I kiss you now?” “Eh, sure.”

Everything up to that point could have been misread as platonic or some casual interest – maybe even curiosity on his end.

But he was serious, and it was evident in the way he approached MC to collect that kiss. He would straddle their hips, set their book aside (face down to mark the page like a real gentleman), and lean down for the kiss. Then, his lips would move against theirs, and the smallest sigh would escape him like a quiet release of sexual tension that had pressurized his entire body. Then, it would all click for MC.

Surprisingly, he wouldn’t be upset or humiliated if MC hadn’t taken him seriously before. In fact, he sees it as more of a personal failing, and in a low, seductive voice, he would tell them, “Allow me to prove how genuine and deep my feelings are for you.”

Asmodeus

He flirts with everyone, so how was MC supposed to know??

He asks them on dates so often. He’s probably the only one who could make out with MC and they’d still think, “yeah, we’re besties” because when Asmo pulls away with a giggle and a grin, telling them how much fun that was, it doesn’t feel serious.

It would take a moment of angst – either Asmo feeling like MC doesn’t take his advances seriously enough (and they don’t) or MC getting down on themselves – for them to realize.

Asmo would pull them into his room and leave small kisses all over them, peppering in compliments. “You’re so gorgeous, and I adore looking at your face.” Then, he would kiss their cheek. “You’re such a sweetheart.” Then, the other cheek. “I always have so much fun when I’m with you. I don’t ever want you to leave my side.” He would kiss their forehead. “I want you to feel confident; you’re such a wonderful soul.” (He would probably add more compliments if MC was feeling self-conscious.)

His words would get sweeter and more honest. “I feel seen in your eyes – like every part of me is accepted. I don’t have to play it up or try.” He would work his way down their neck with soft pecks to their skin. “I want to share everything beautiful in this world with you.” In part to avoid meeting their gaze. “I want to make you smile with everything I have.” And in part so he could whisper the words into their ear. “I want to help you whenever you need me. I’ll sit right next to you through any pain and hardships you encounter.” No one else had earned the right to hear his praise and affection. “I want to be a comfort for you – someone you can return to like a home.”

Finally, he would face them with a striking affection. “You know I’m in love with you, right? It’s not just lust and fun. You’re everything. You matter the most – after me, of course. It’s me and you and everything else.”

Asmo seduces everyone. That isn’t shocking. But this was more than seduction. It was genuine courtship. He won’t fault MC for being surprised. It caught him off guard too.

Beelzebub

Beel is not super flirty, but he makes it known that he cares through his actions. So, there aren’t many opportunities for MC to “yes, and” flirt back with him.

He asks them out to get food often and brings them snacks, but that doesn’t signal any romantic intentions. Sometimes he might stare at MC affectionately or admit how happy he is to spend time with them, but it’s nowhere near intense.

Sometimes, he asks for something more selfish. It starts small: petting his head, holding his hand, hugging him. None of those register as seduction from Beel for MC, especially compared to the affectionate nature of his twin. In fact, no one would fault MC for thinking these were platonic wants. After all, Beel has been through a lot. Sometimes this sweet, big baby boy just needs physical affection.

Then, he would get a bit bolder with his requests: “Could you feed me?” “Can I feed you?” “Would you hold me?”

As innocent and platonic as Beel may seem, he makes a lot of off-hand remarks that sound a bit perverted. “I bet MC’s lips would taste good.” “I wonder what you taste like.” “MC has nice hands. I bet they would feel good…” These comments could open the door for some flirting from MC, though. “Wanna taste me, Beel?” “Should I give you a massage? Or maybe something more?”

MC flirting with him would make his heart race. Even if MC didn’t follow through with their flirtatious offer, it would encourage Beel to keep pushing his luck.

Finally, he would ask, “Can I kiss you?”

Beel would look so shy and embarrassed, holding his hands awkwardly to his chest, that it would be hard not to take him seriously. The question – and his desire – would be a slight shock. Beel wouldn’t mind that MC was surprised, although he would be disappointed if he was turned down.

If MC takes him up on that offer, they will come to realize that his ravenous hunger showed itself through a kiss, too – as if he had been starving for MC’s touch and affection.

Belphegor

He’s so affectionate and cuddly. In that way, he’s similar to Asmo; it’s pretty hard to tell how serious and intense Belphie’s feelings are. He’s just kind of like that.

It’s common for Belphie to ask to be spoiled with affection – head pats, feeding him, hugging him, sleeping together, going out with him, praising him, holding his hand, being his pillow, etc.

His need for attention doesn’t cover up for how flushed his face gets when MC is the one to give him affection. His neediness doesn’t explain how much he clings to MC or how he blushes and tells them not to stop touching him.

So, actually, he’s less flirty than he is demanding of attention. Going along with his demands only encourages him to vocalize and act on more of his desires. He’d even ask permission to kiss them and to be kissed.

MC probably wouldn’t figure it out until Belphie starts sleepily trying to make out with them.

“Belphie, are you half-asleep?” “What? No. I’m awake. Why?” “That was a really heated kiss.” “Of course it was. Can we keep going?” “I’m sorry, what?”

“Don’t you like me back? We sleep together, go on dates, cuddle, and you even let me kiss your face and neck whenever I please. Don’t you want to go further?”

It hits them. Belphie can read the look of surprise on MC’s face, and it makes him pout. MC really should have known how he felt by then, but he’s confident that his affection is reciprocated before MC even responds.

“Sheesh. You’re really difficult, you know? I’ve had to do a lot of the work here because you’re so dense.” Belphie would straddle MC’s lap and take off his shirt. “I’ll let it go this time, but you better start putting in more effort from now on.”

A/N: Only about 1 hour left to vote in the poll. And we just got to 100 so y'all are getting 2 posts this month. Genuinely, I typed this a/n up, talking about only needing one more vote, checked it again, and the one vote is no longer needed. Good job, y'all. I swear if there are ties...

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

Request by: @jellibean2018

Hello, Jelli! About two months ago you sent in a request, however my tumbl did me dirty, and I ended up with your ask, and the entire fic deleted! (Though, much to my relief, I found screenshots of the fic in a chat with my friend who was reviewing it. Thank god).

So, I have to tag you, and remind you what you wanted.

From what I remember, you wanted a fic with a female sinner Reader who was once a victim of Alastor's, and the two ending up meeting again in hell. You also wanted an unsettling vibe with Alastor reveling in the memory of killing Reader.

I also want to add that I apologize for how long you had to wait for this fic to be done. I haven't been doing well with fics lately, so this was a struggle. And my mental health started going shit too which is why I stopped posting for so long...

Anyways, I really started to struggle with writing fics, so I ended up experimenting with this one - it's kind of written with huge metaphor kind of style? Hope that's okay with you...

Anyways, hope you'll enjoy reading this at least a little, and I once again apologize.

_

🎙️// The sweet history we share... //🎙️

{Alastor x female!Reader}

___________________________________________

Type: Fanfic

Settings: Not specified

Genre: Unsettling? Can't tell if it actually gives that vibe though,

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, violence, blood, saliva, dead bodies, Alastor revels in the memory of killing Reader, possible yandere vibes? Alastor sees Reader as nothing but a meal, but he puts her on a pedestal - that's probably some kind of fucked up attachment that surely has a name? I'd say the vibe is quite unsettling, but I can't say that for sure, Angel indirectly suggests the use of drugs and hints at sex related activities (but it's just a single line), and that's probably all?

Sidenote: Reader is written as a female just as requested,

Sidenote: I have no idea if I wrote Alastor well... but it feels like I really made him ooc as fuck and ruined the whole request,

Sidenote: Rereading this I think everyone is ooc as fuck even if they have minimum dialogue,

_

That should be all,

Hope you'll enjoy,

___________________________________________

Ah, nostalgia. Ah that sweet nostalgia. And that embrace of her.

She comes in unannounced, an unexpected guest. But oh is she welcome.

And oh so welcome are those treats she brings to the table.

She easily settles in, making herself at home. And into a cup, a bunch of memories she pours.

And that demon, the radio demon as he's called - he drinks from that cup greedily.

And like a man dying of thirst, he can't help but ask for another cup to be poured.

His senses feel high, his body tingling. A feeling of addiction is what fills him.

And he can't get enough of those sweet memories, so, he downs one cup after the other.

But with each greedy little sip, the thirst only grows and grows - he's not had his fill still.

So, the demon goes on and on, tasting one memory after the other.

And his mouth waters a big deal the more he can taste, and he savours each and every one.

Ah, and he can't tell which one of the sips of memories he enjoys the most, which one is the most saliva inducing one.

Is it maybe the giddy old memory of how he followed you through the town?

With you completely unaware? Naively trusting those poorly enlightened streets?

Trusting that a bit of weak light will keep you safe?

Or perhaps it could be the sweet memory of the thrilling chase through the forest?

That one forest where thousands of dead bodies laid buried deep in the ground?

Those dead bodies in whose footsteps you followed suit?

Oh! And what about that memory of how you so desperately tried to navigate around and hide, escape his clutches?

Even if he could hear your sharp breaths as clear as the day?

Oh! Or maybe his favourite one could be the moment of when he tackled you down?

Pinning your body under his, finally cutting the chase so the real fun can begin?

And that beautiful moment of how you hopelessly dug your nails into his skin til blood trailed down his arms?

That one beautiful moment engraved into his head of how you desperately clawed at those lanky hands of his?

His hands that trailed, squeezed and pinched at your body, feeling you up like a winning prize, like a fine piece of venison?

Ah, it was so hard to pick which one was the most treasured one!

Hell, it could even be the simple memory of the melodious sounds of your cries.

That melodious, angelic sound of your pleading, whimpering, sobbing and screaming.

Especially those sounds you made when he bit down onto your flesh.

Oh, and that taste that hit his taste buds back then...

He still remembers it like it was yesterday.

And his tongue still tingles, and saliva still floods his mouth every time he thinks of just how tasty you were back then.

And now his mouth waters as he silently wonders... would you still have such taste even now?

Or did becoming a demon change the sweet, addictive flavour of your fragile flesh and thick blood?

Oh, how his senses urge him - beg him - to just grab you and take at least one single little bite...

I'd be really easy too, now that you're a part of the hotel staff.

Silly little you, you didn't flee when you were faced with the fact that he - the one who took your life - also works for the hell's princess now.

You didn't take the more than gracious chance to turn on your trail, run and never return while you still could.

No, you are too stubborn, and you insist on staying, even despite how frightening seeing him on the daily is for you.

Silly little you! Don't you realize how easily he could snatch you away and repeat history?

All it would take is a single moment of when you're alone and-

Ah, but he can't do that - at least not yet...

Where would be the fun in that?

It sure would be a shame to end your lovely reunion this fast and early on, no?

Not to mention the odd, messed up attachment the deer demon feels towards you...

Now, not to be mistaken! What he feels isn't the usual attachment one would think of!

It definitely isn't the good or healthy kind either...

So, we shall not be mistaken, let's not get our hopes up and think he cares - for he doesn't.

You mean nothing to him - at least as far as it comes to you as a person.

Your value could be most likely compared to something of a sentimental value, a plaything at best if you will.

Still, no matter what you are to him - you are by far his most favourite one at that.

That's what can be said for a fact.

And for reasons beyond us and even Alastor, those memories he shares with you are put on a pedestal - put way above the rest.

There were so many faces that twisted in fear, so many names he kept tabs on, so many tastes he's tried, and so many lives he's taken.

But very vast portion of them is long forgotten, not really standing out all that much.

Nor holding any real value. Barely any of them mattered...

But you, on the other hand - oh, he could never forget about that one lovely night you shared...

And even when more victims - more faces, more names, more tastes - came, they couldn't compare.

No, they never could.

Those memories of you and your taste were always stuck in the back of the radio demon's head no matter what new person was on the menu - what new dish was on his plate...

So, one can only imagine just what he feels now that you're back within his grasp.

Oh, not even his wildest fantasies could've come up with or prepare him for such sweet moment!

This was like a gift from the Devil himself!

Yes, a gift - one that Alastor would make sure to cherish greatly...

Ah yes, he would cherish you so.

He'd take his time unwrapping you like the perfect little gift that you are - he would savour you.

And only when he'd get tired of messing with you, only then he'd get to the real deal.

Oh, and when he'll finally do, it'll be like a starving man plunging onto bread crumbs!

It'll be such a beautiful, satisfactorily moment - Alastor can almost feel himself drooling at the mere thought of the moment.

Oh, how he just can't wait for the very moment!

The moment is so close, and yet so far - and every little glance your way is like a test.

A test of how long he can resist the temptation.

Every little move you make, every little noise that leaves you, every little expression your face twists into.

Oh, he can barely hold himself back!

His body feels so restless, and his thoughts are all over the place.

And no matter how much he reminds himself to be patient, to not cut straight to the chase just yet.

He still can barely keep himself in check.

His thoughts are going to dangerous places, and your familiar, sweet scent teases his nose.

Oh, and you're so within reach too!

It'd really just take a single little moment and-

"Geez, that perv's still at it?".

Oh, that's right.

He's almost forgotten about those curious eyes watching him from afar.

Watching, and trying to see inside his head...

But judging by the response Vaggie's hateful comment receives, it seems she's the only one to see right through him.

The only one to see the real danger behind that wide smile he always wears...

"Ya-uh! His eyes have not left her ever since she's joined the hotel staff!".

Ah, Charlie. Dear, sweet Charlie - now she's something else.

She's completely different from her girlfriend - she's quite naively trusting and optimistic.

Fully believing that there's a piece of good in everyone.

And hence not being concerned for your safety when the deer demon started to show an interest in you.

Ah, that sweet, silly little thing.

Caught up in trying to see only the best in people and their intentions...

It's amusing - and truly adorable.

And oh, does it play into Alastor's favour oh so well...

"Okay, that's like so sick and totally-".

Oh, Vaggie - she tries, she really tried to warn the others.

Make them see Alastor for what he truly is.

But aside from Husk, nobody really listens to Vaggie's concerns.

No, she's not all that listened to when she voices her opinions on the deer demon.

Not even when she expresses her concerns for how the latter constantly follows your every single step no matter the time of the day, no matter where you go...

And to think she has quite enough of a say in things as the hotel's manager, as well as the princess' girlfriend!

Oh, that poor little thing - it must be such an awful feeling.

How humorous!

And oh, how unfortunate...

"Ah! Do you think he's-?".

Niffty is completely on board with Charlie.

Similarly to the princess - she too doesn't see the real harm in Alastor's advances towards you.

Seeing his behaviour as nothing other than subtle romantic gestures.

The little demoness' version of romance sure is rather twisted...

And yet, it's still quite surprising Niffty doesn't see the harm in things.

After all, she herself knows Alastor just as well as Husk does...

"Yeah! Strawberry pimp totally got the hots for that one!".

Angel was caught up in the spiderweb of romanticizing the same thing as well.

Just like Charlie and Niffty, he couldn't see the truth...

"What? No! Are you all crazy?! That's not the case at all! How can you all not see that?!".

Oh, Vaggie - again and again, she really tries and tries.

But the result is always the same - nobody pays her warnings or concerns any thought.

And yet she still keeps on going.

What a miserable little thing she is.

"Oh my- I have like the best idea!".

Not even Charlie notices how Vaggie nearly begs for them all to see things from her point of view.

None of them can see things for what they really are.

Alastor's got them all right where he wants them.

Without even having to try much...

"We should totally get the two to have some alone time!".

Charlie is quick to naively play into the radio demon's games.

Without even knowing she's doing that.

She can't see this all is exactly what the deer demon wants...

And neither can Angel or Niffty.

Aw, those naive little fools...

"Yes! We should- like- create some really romantic atmosphere and leave them to it!".

Niffty follows through in Charlie's steps.

She too plays right into what Alastor wants.

Though whether or not she's aware of it is up for a debate...

"We should lock 'em up in a closet together or somethin', or even give them a little... somethin'... to just... ya know, set just the right mood in.".

And angel is quick to fall for Alastor's games too...

Ah, those silly fools...

Unaware they're making all this much easier than it should've been.

They're sealing your doom - the inevitable end you're ought to meet at his clutches.

They're making this all too easy...

They're shoving the little mouse right into the lion's den.

What unfortunate silly fools.

And what an unfortunate little you.

Your friends are serving you to him on a silver platter.

All of them - or nearly all of them - thinking they're doing you a favour.

Thinking they're simply helping a mere fool in love gain the heart of his love interest.

When in reality, they're actually helping a starving predator get closer to his chosen prey...

It was rather humorous - a good source of entertainment for sure.

So, Alastor would humour the group.

He'd indulge in their schemes of trying to set you up with him.

He'd gladly play along and lead them to think he's interested in you.

Well, interested in you they way they think he is, not the way he actually is...

No, they can't know what he actually wants from you.

They won't know.

He'll make sure of it.

They won't know until the very last moment, until the deed's already done.

Or, he'll lead them to think your disappearance has nothing to do with him.

After all, the sudden disappearance of a poor little sinner like you would be nothing new in hell.

You'd just be added to the endlessly growing numbers of hell inhabitants going missing.

Your disappearance would be just a part of the mere statistics.

Well, he'll see.

All depends on which option would prove to bring more benefit.

As well as which one would prove to be more entertaining.

That's what, to the deer demon, matters the most at the end of the day.

For now, he'll just go with the flow and let the situation progress by itself.

With the occasional shove to the right direction, of course.

But it doesn't seem like he needs to wait for that long for everything to be set in motion...

"Hey, Al, you got a minute?".

Yeah, he really doesn't need to wait for that long...

___________________________________________

[yuri-is-online]

An office shoujo think post

so you know that post from wttmcsms? The one about having a fake ring to chase off the men, a character who doesn't notice it, and flirts with reader trying to prove he'd be the better husband:

I came up with a slight idea for a dating sim based off of it by expanding the original concept just a tad... but I would appreciate some advice lol. It would be a super simple project with the classic neutral, bad (sort of), and good endings to help me practice the coding stuff.

The Setting: it's a simple office rom-com, nothing too deep or serious. The MC has recently decided to start wearing the ring due to some bad experiences at their previous job and is encouraged to do so by their best friend who promises to help keep up the ruse.

original concept/the flirt- same as the above described scenario with no real changes... he would be the "first route." Very shojo flirty love interest who wants to prove himself to the MC and teases them a whole lot. Pretty simple not too much drama?

the pathetic guy- Lennox... he's short and normally really self assured but for some reason he turns into a pathetic mess around the MC on his route. He's a bit of a loser when it comes to romance and constantly shooting himself in the foot to the point it is surprising how well put together he is outside of it. Similar in concept to the flirt's route except he's not a smooth operator.

the tsundere- megane ceo ikmen except she's a woman. She's the sister of your best friend and doesn't remember hearing about you getting married but what if it's true? And she's lost her chance? Because she keeps sticking her stupid foot in her mouth and making it sound like she hasn't been in love with you all this time and when she learns you aren't married that just makes it worse. Because if she flirts with you now then won't she just be like all the other people who made you uncomfortable?

My problem is I would want to add a fourth normal route but I can't settle on a good trope to model it after... the reason being I have a yandere route planned and i know that's not everyone's cup of tea lol. But tropes are difficult, so here are the potential ones I was kicking around:

let's sexualize that old man- idk middle aged salaryman who works at the company tm. The problem is I wanted to also make him a little more pathetic which is Lennox's trope. I guess we don't have a kuudere, which sort of works well for the middle aged man trope.

rivalmance- the MC is a secretary and the business they work for makes some sort of product... so I guess there could be another secretary? Maybe for the cfo of the company. I'm thinking of a rich, bratty ojou-sama. A Regina George type... except less pink and more black??? I'll be honest I am not as fond of this one might need to take it back to the drawing board.

senpai- a pretty obvious trope for this sort of set up... a mentor at the company, maybe the retiring or senior secretary who is very soft and big brotherly who is really gentle in how he expresses his concern over how little your husband seems to care for you, but not because he wishes he was him. If he says that enough maybe he'll believe it?

kohai- MC is new to the company so maybe a little bit of a timeskip where there is a new secretary who really wants to prove himself. Super big golden retriever energy with a person who desperately wants to be taken seriously but is a bit clumsy so you don't at first. He insists he loves you but everyone in the office brushes his feelings off as a crush and it's super annoying!!!! But he's got really chubby cheeks so his pouting is just too cute to listen to what he's saying.

or something idk. I want to work on the demon thirst trap idea but... I really need to practice the code to do that well so I need to do something much much simpler first and office shojo is pretty simple I suppose.

[chaotic-multi-fandom]

Something that I love and appreciate about Ash Lynx that I don't see many people talking about is his lack of desire for personal revenge. It's such a small and obvious detail, that I don't think we stop to think about it enough, but Ash is not consumed by revenge. Even after everything that happened to him, we never see him express a desire to kill or torture Dino, or anyone else who hurt him, we just wants to be free. Even with researching banana fish he's just trying to figure out what's wrong with his brother so that he can cure him, his motive is never revenge. Wanting to destroy and make Dino suffer would be a completely understandable reaction, yet all he wants to do is prevent other children from experiencing the same things he did.

The only times we see Ash express a desire for revenge, is when people he loves are hurt. This is seen several times with Eiji, such as when he's shot and he chases the men and shoots them with rage in his eyes, or when Shorter dies and he kills Dawson as he begs for mercy. This is why at the start I emphasised *personal revenge*. But I just think that his overall lack of thirst for revenge and just deep desire to be free is an extremely important facet of his character, that really just highlights who he is on the inside beyond all the violence and suffering, and is also very telling of his strength.

This is also one of the reasons why I dislike the "yut lung is just ash without eiji" rhetoric, because I feel like it does such a disservice to both their characters. Yes, they've lived through similar trauma and are in several ways parallels to each other, but they're different people with or without someone to support them. First of all, before Eiji, Ash did have someone, Shorter, and he had other people he cared about such as Skipper and his gang. Obviously none where as influencial or life changing as Eiji was, but painting him as being completely alone before meeting Eiji simply isn't true. Secondly, Ash and Yut lung are very separate people with separate personalities and with indivual nuances to their stories despite their similarites. One of these is the desire for revenge. As I established Ash isn't consumed by personal revenge, but Yut Lung very much is, his entire first arc is his search for revenge agaisnt his own brothers, whom he wants to kill.

Yut Lung isn't Ash without Eiji, he's just Yut Lung. He's a different person with different responses and reactions to the world around him, and of course, having someone to love and care for him would be monumental, but he'd still be a completely different character to Ash, and in my personal opinion, would have a harder time accepting that love than him (as we see briefly with his connection with Sing).

Of course there's also differences in their stories that I think are worth noting. I won't do it on this post because frankly I've been procrastinating making lunch and I need to do that rn. But reducing Yut Lungs's character to an "ash without eiji" is truly tragic in my opinion, and not only a disservice to him as a character but also to his story. Yut lung isn't just there to be a parallel to Ash, and I feel like we sometimes forget that. Anyway I'll get more into the nuances of Yut lung's character, and the nuances of his and Ash's stories and they way they both parallel and differ from each other if y'all want. If not I'll probably forget, and it'll just live in my mind, keeping me awake at 4 am.

[mimimaymagic]

In Defense of Sebastian Sallow.

Lately I've seen a lot of people who generally liked him in the beginning slowly start to change their minds, calling him a toxic manipulator & saying he was using MC for his agenda from the very beginning. I strongly disagree and in this post I'm going to give my reasons why I don't believe he's as black and white as people have begun to paint him.

I also want to add that everyone is entitled to feel however they want about his character & storyline. The purpose of this post isn't to imply there's a right or wrong interpretation, it's all just my opinion. Being able to discuss and debate this character is the very reason why he's by far the most interesting, or even realistic, companion in the game.

I will only be discussing his arc until the end of the quest 'In The Shadow Of The Estate', in which you visit his family home and investigate the surrounding area - else this post would go on forever. Naturally, there will be spoilers ahead.

- If you're sorted into Slytherin, he's likely the first person you speak to in your common room. He immediately expresses interest in how you ended up at Hogwarts after the dragon attack but doesn't press you for answers. I think, like everyone else at the school, he's just very curious about you. He generally also seems to have a thirst for knowledge like his parents had and I think most people just assumed he's sus from the start because he's a charming Slytherin.

- Within the same conversation, if you express interest in Sebastian's book and the Dark Arts, he warms up to you instantly and calls you a "kindred spirit" - likely because no one else in his life shares his views on the subject.

- If you're sorted into Gryffindor (ikdr!), Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, you meet him in your first Defense Against The Dark Arts class and beat him in a duel. From this point, he becomes a friend to you and I truly believe he's just a generally nice, personable guy who will befriend anyone.

- In terms of the Hogsmeade visit, I'm told Seb & Natty have mostly the same dialogue/actions so I don't think there's anything special to discuss there since if Natty has sincere intentions in opening up and befriending you, why shouldn't Sebastian?

- Just wanna talk about a tiny instance he proves his genuine care for MC that really stood out to me even though the action isn't exclusive to him: In the Three Broomsticks cutscene when Rookwood points out that he's looking for MC, Sebastian will - without hesitation - jump out of his seat to take on a fighting stance. It's made very clear that he WILL protect you if it comes to blows.

- The next time you see Sebastian is when you ask him about the Restricted Section. Even if you aren't totally transparent with him, he easily agrees to helping you & risks getting into more trouble despite the fact that he won't gain anything from it.- One might say he agreed to help because he's nosy, but he ends up leaving you alone and wishes you luck before chasing after Peeves. He also never forces you to expose what you've learned.

- "I like having friends who are in my debt." This line for some reason has become "proof" that he's a manipulator to some people and personally, I don't see it? I saw it as his way of cracking a joke & lightening what was a very stressful situation for the MC. Added to the fact that even after he takes the fall for you and you thank him for it later, he brushes it off as if it's not a big deal. Also, he never holds it over your head and at no point in the game does he make you feel indebted to him.

- Additionally when he's caught, he has no idea that you're watching. Therefore his instinct to protect you and make sure you stay out of trouble is entirely sincere.

- Something else that a lot of people reference when talking about how he's a manipulator is him supposedly spilling all his secrets as a means of gaining your trust: immediately inviting you to Crossed Wands, betraying Ominis' trust by showing you the Undercroft, telling you about Anne's curse etc. Again, I disagree. This is a 15 year old boy, he's definitely not an evil mastermind; in fact, I'd argue he's too impulsive to even consider making long-term plans like that. Now this might be a reach on my part but I think he's yearning for a similar companionship as he had with Anne. Sebastian even says later in the game that the curse has completely changed her, and not just physically. I think the reason he's so open so quickly is because he's genuinely just more excited than anything to have a new "partner in crime".

- I also want to remind everyone that only in the Undercroft are you "forced" by the game to tell him the whole truth if you've chosen to keep it a secret. Yet regardless of whether he knows about your special abilities or not, he still treats you exactly the same. He's still just as charming, teasing, friendly and genuinely gives you the feeling that he likes you. I'd even go as far as saying he's the only companion who really feels like a friend (which I think comes down to his personality, writing + his voice actor's amazing line delivery).

- Also in the Undercroft, he doesn't really have anything to gain from letting you in or teaching you Confringo. In my opinion, he knows there are dangerous men after you (even if you haven't told him yet) and just wants you to have a means of protecting yourself since you're "behind" on the work.- It could be argued that he just wants a secret place to practice forbidden spells with you but at no point in the game does he force you to learn the Unforgivables. [In a meta sense, he has to reveal the Undercroft to you regardless since it plays a massive role in the main quest.]

- In the end, he invites you to Feldcroft to meet with Anne so you can hopefully cheer her up. I can't see any "manipulation" in this either since he didn't plan for the argument with his Uncle Solomon, nor did he plan on Anne suddenly falling ill. I think that when it comes to Anne, he generally has good intentions, and genuinely wanted her to meet and befriend you like he had.

- After the whole debacle in the Sallow house, you and Sebastian snoop around Isadora's home and end up back at the Undercroft. It is only here that he finally understands your abilities and brings up the idea that your ancient magic COULD help Anne. Sebastian has exhausted every single option in his arsenal at this point and I think he's just clinging to anything he hasn't explored yet. But he only brings it up here, he never even considers it prior to this which is why I believe him being kind to you, helping you and becoming your friend had no secret intention.

In conclusion, I don't believe he's been manipulating the MC from the start. I truly believe his intentions in befriending MC were sincere and that he does "change" as he delves deeper into the Dark Arts. With characters like Sebastian, I don't think it does them justice to be put in a box. He's just too complex for that, and when making your final decision in the game keep in mind that this fictional kid is neither totally good nor totally bad, he's just human.

[foxes-that-run]

Daylight

Harry said Daylight is about infatuation with troubled things. He sings about a long distance relationship where his muse, to me Taylor, keeps him at a distance, he wants to be with them and wants more than his muse gives him. In a theme for his work at that time Harry sings of cocaine, travelling the world and romantic encounters but he really just wants his muse to love him back. Yet knowing they keep him at a distance Harry can't help wanting to be with them.

The lyric video has Sunflowers with their heads are dropped :( this happens when they don’t have water, a reference to Taylor Swifts Clean (When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst) and Sunflower Vol 6.

Music video

The music video for Daylight is fantastic and full of Haylor easter eggs in these:

@womanexile has detail in part 1 and part 2,

@this-daydream-is-dangerous-13 post about the timeline for making the video and the James Corden $300 video showing it was made May 22 before it’s July 23 release. The Olivia tattoo is seen in it. and

This post about seven and the video

Title and Track list

Daylight is also the name of the last song on Taylor Swift's album Lover. It was originally the title track, and Taylor hinted at it in the Red Liner notes while she was still dating Harry. Taylor’s Daylight is about true love, the last sung verse of Taylors Daylight is [love] "it's golden like daylight". Harry then opened Fine Line with Golden. Daylight is track 5 of Harry's House.

What Harry has said

Howard Stern (8:10) Harry said:

"Daylight was quite an early song on the album, it's one of my favourites and it was kind of a stream of consciousness writing that happened kind of late. It was one of those songs that very much captures a moment of what was happening in the studio. We were kind of all talking about going to bed and then we started this song and it felt like if we go to bed and do it tomorrow it's not going to be the same as it would be if we finished it now. So you found a way to stay up. I think sometimes there are things that can feel like we have to find a way to finish this now. We did an all nighter, finished it and went out the beach to watch the sun come up and it was a nice moment of this album." Stern 'this is about some woman that didn't pay attention to you. He reads the line with cocaine before asking. There is a frustration in this song' Harry confirms it is about one woman. And responds "I think it is kind of like an infatuation with chasing troubled things"

Stern continues, 'You know Taylor Swift has a song called Daylight, maybe she's the girl in the thing?' To which Harry says "here we go, mm hm." and looks away. Stern, seeing the answer, offers, 'or am I reading too much into it.' which Harry agrees with, Stern comments on his smile Harry adds "You know I'd love to tell you that your spot on, but I can't" smiles and exchanges a knowing look with Mitch. Call me as convinced as Stern, what Harry said was he couldn't confirm that, especially after Stern read the cocaine line.

To Zane Lowe Harry (41 mins) told a similar story about staying up to complete it and told the surfing/song writing metaphor. Zane approached it along with As it Was and Grapejuice as a suite he sees as expressing pain and vice dependency. Harry moved on to talk about As It Was.

Timeline

Harry was in LA promoting Fine Line when the COVID travel ban was introduced 17 March 2020. Harry told Zane Lowe (24 Mins) he stayed home for 6 weeks then booked and went to Shangri-la studio to record. LNT, Daylight, Keep Driving and Sushi were in this group, to Stern and Lowe he said Daylight was one of the first. That places these songs between 28 April 2020 and 18 July 2020 (when Harry was back in the UK) Daylight at the earlier end of that time. The leaked too much sauce was recorded and Taylor wrote Folklore in that period also. See 2020 timeline.

Live Performances

Daylight was the 4th song on the Love on Tour Setlist, once Harry's House was released. Harry replaced it with Stockholm Syndrome for 18 shows from 18 May 2023, appearing in a handful of shows in June and July. The only shows with both were Wembley and the last show.

The tour visuals have a blue bird flying between LA and London. Harry also had a cloud background. Showing LA rather than NY is interesting when the song mentions NY.

What is the Bluebird Reference about

Bluebirds appeared in the opening to Love on Tour and may refer to:

Charles Bukowski's has a poem Bluebird, Harry is read Bukowski books and poems on stage. In the poem, the bird is a metaphor for Bukowski's emotions, articulated that he weeps in private. He keeps it hidden with whiskey to protect his image that sells books of misogynistic poetry, he opposes weeping with strength and cleverness. If Harry is referencing this, this is it is consistent with the reference to Harry's own work:

In "If I could Fly" Harry shared his vulnerability with his muse for their eyes only and hoped they would not run from him. In this same HH recording period, Harry has a series of songs that describe a rockstar lifestyle, referring to choking and cocaine, (Daylight, Keep Driving and (leaked) Too Much Sauce and (leaked) Make My Day) but that Harry actually just wishes his muse reciprocated his feelings and wanted to settle down and be happy.

When she was 14 Taylor Swift's was given her first record deal and performed at a writers night at the Bluebird Cafe in Nashville. She talks about it in this video when she returned to the cafe, there are photos of her 2004 performance with Scott Borchetta in the audience. The cafe has a chair with a plaque she included in the Taymoji set. Harry would have known this, however the Grammy museum also covered when she played there in 2018. Taylor also had a bluebird in the WANGBT video and on 17 June 2023 uploaded a single image to youtube with bluebirds promoting Eras in Mexico. This was a few weeks before Harry’s daylight MV was released.

This link lists songs about bluebirds. I think Paul McCartney's "Bluebird" and Joe Ely's "If you were a Bluebird" are both plausible.

In Summary I think the bluebird is a metaphor for Harry's inner feelings that he is someone who loves and wants to be loved back. He sees his rockstar trappings are a salve, not a life goal.

Lyrics

I'm on the roof, you're in your airplane seat I was nose-bleeding, looking for life out there Reading your horoscope, you were just doing cocaine In my kitchen, you never listen, I hope you're missing me by now

The opening verse expresses the frustration Stern referred to. Harry's muse and he are apart now, and he is missing them, almost indigently hoping they miss him too, yet he cares, he’s reading their horoscope. This sounds to me like a disagreement or unsatisfying parting and Harry wants to be with them.

I hear the first lines as a double meaning:

Harry is high (on the roof, nose-bleeding) but his muse is higher (in the sky).

his muse has also now flown away in their own airplane seat and left him waiting - they are separated by distance.

'Nose bleeding, looking for life' reminds me of Kiwi "Holland Tunnel for a nose, it's always backed up" and Satellite's name and "You got a new life". "Out there" and the tour visuals showing LA rather also remind me of Satellite's 'L.A. Mood'.

In the music video here Harry climbs down from a ladder to the sky, which reminds me of Story of My Life's "But, baby, runnin' after you is like chasin' the clouds". Clouds appear in several of their videos, including Lavender Haze, where, on the Eras tour, Taylor climbs up a ladder to one:

If I was a bluebird, I would fly to you You'd be the spoon Dip you in honey so I could be sticking to you

To me, this lyric is most reminiscent of Harry's One Direction song, If I Could Fly and it has the similar meaning, Harry is separated from his muse and wishes he could fly home to them. While If I could fly is about sharing vulnerability and hoping they don't run from him, in Daylight his muse keeping him at a distance.

I love dip you in honey so I could be sticking to you, it's adorable and bittersweet and very Harry. Bittersweet because Harry wants to be with his muse, who at the start of the song was not listening to him and he was hoping was missing him. He wants to spend all his time with them and he doesn’t feel that is reciprocated.

In this part of the video, the muse in Red (Taylor's colour) takes shots at him (songs, antics in media) he is resigned that it may kill him, his muse gives a flirting smile when it doesn't. Harry then walks past muses in pink with a bored look. A Grapejuice reference "I'm so over whites and pinks" Harry only has eyes for his 'old and Red' muse, even though they enjoy taking shots at him.

Daylight, you got me cursing the daylight (ooh) Daylight, you got me cursing the daylight (ooh) Daylight, you got me calling at all times (ooh) Ain't gonna sleep 'til the daylight (ooh)

This lyric reminds me of Harry talking about staying up to finish the song, but also he's staying up late night talking and wanting to be with his muse all the time. Calling at all times could be a muse on a different timezone, or maybe one he can't keep from.

In the video Harry is trying to get to his muse, clowns (read: us) are in the way. He cries and we are on his side, because we are! Harry is commenting on fans getting in the way of his love. Sorry Harry. He is too loud for his muse dressed as Miss Americana (& the Heartbreak Prince) who leaves. This scene reminds me of Story of my life "holding on too tight"

Out of New York, I'm on the comedown speed We're on bicycles, saying, "There's life out there" You got the antidote, I'll take one to go, go, please Get the picture, cut out my middle You ain't got time for me right now

This verse is similar to the first, Harry is a parting from his muse, he feels incomplete when they are apart, but his muse is keeping him at a distance. The verse has similarities to several of Harry's songs:

Out of NY, comedown speed, I hear as Harry leaving NY and coming down, or feeling sad to be away from his muse.

Harry does refer to Bikes in Matilda, however to me, where Harry rides a penny farthing here in the video emphasises that this is a winding wheel reference. The spinning and 'life out there' also remind me of Satellite again. In the first verse Harry was looking for life out there and he has now found it.

Antidote is also in Golden "I can feel you take control (I can feel you take control) / Of who I am, and all I've ever known Lovin' you's the antidote", and Ever Since New York "Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote" a Medicine is also similar to an antidote. Also in End of the Day "Twenty minutes later, wound up in the hospital / The priest thinks it's the devil, my mum thinks it's the flu / But, girl, it's only you" Here Harry takes one to go because he's parting from his muse.

Finally, the last 2 lines are also reminiscent of Satellite "(Spinning out, waiting for ya) / I'm in an L.A. Mood / I don't wanna talk to you/ She said, "Give me a day or two"

[walviemort]

hidden blessing (12/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.) rated T | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | part 11 | AO3 | 3.5k a/n: So sorry for the long posting delay (again)! But on the bright side--I have a few more chapters ready :) Hope you enjoy this one!

Killian was jolted from sleep by a sharp pain in his stomach. His eyes fluttered open as he yelped and his hand immediately rushed to the spot the pain was coming from—but something didn’t feel right.

He looked down—and gasped: his belly was much larger than it had been when he fell asleep; it looked like he was about to give birth, and he could feel his babe squirming around impatiently inside.

“No, no, no—what’s happening?” he murmured, hoping he didn’t wake anyone else. Then he hissed as another jolt of pain hit him, under his palm.

“Tick tock, tick tock—looks like someone’s about to pop.”

His eyes darted to the side, where Pan was smirking and staring at his round bump.

“What the hell did you do?” Killian demanded, then groaned again as another contraction came, even stronger than the last.

“Did you really think you and that babe would get out of this scot-free?” he taunted. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

“No, no—you can’t—ahh!” he tried to beg, but it was cut off as his contractions came even closer together.

“Push, Hook,” Pan told him, now below him—waiting to catch the babe, as it were. “You don’t want something bad to happen to them because you didn’t, do you?”

“I won’t,” he panted, even as the pain and pressure increased.

“Oh, but you have to,” Pan said, almost teasing. “Or I’ll take them myself.”

Killian’s body betrayed him and he felt himself bearing down on the next contraction, just like he’d read in his pregnancy books. But it was the last thing he wanted to do.

And then, suddenly, Pan was standing over him with an infant in his arms. They were wrapped in a blanket so he couldn’t see their face, but he could hear them crying—and his heart broke. “Please, Pan—have some humanity; give them back,” he cried, reaching for them.

Pan just stepped back and laughed. “No; they’re mine now.” And disappeared.

“No, no, no!” he screamed, and tried to get up to make chase, but he didn’t get very far when—

—When Emma was whisper-yelling his name, gently shaking him awake. “Hook! Are you okay?”

He was panting and looking around; he was at the camp still, everyone else was still asleep, and, blessedly, his babe was still growing within him, wiggling around in his womb. 

He sighed in relief and fell back against his bedroll. “A terrible dream,” he replied. “Pardon me, but I just need to…” he started, trailing off as he undid the buckle of the belt around his vest, then pressed his palm against the still-small bump. Thank the gods; everything was still as it was supposed to be.

“I take it your dream was about the baby?” she asked quietly, taking a seat next to him.

“Aye,” he nodded, and gave her the run-down of it. Saying it out loud helped calm him, somehow.

When he was done, to his shock, Emma reached for his hand where it still sat on his stomach and squeezed it. “I’ve had a few of those, too, since we got here. Honestly, I’ve had them ever since Henry was under that sleeping curse, but now, I just keep seeing him being taken—by Pan, Regina, Neal. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

“Indeed,” he agreed as he sat up—and caught her hand in his as he moved. “And Swan—we will save him; we’ve come too far not to at this point.”

“I know,” she said, though she didn’t sound confident. “I’m just not the most optimistic person by nature.”

“Then it’s a good thing your parents have enough of that to spare, eh?” he joked. “As does Baelfire.”

She’d been smirking, but it fell at the mention of her former lover. “He might have too much,” she complained.

“I take it you two didn’t end on good terms?”

She shifted uncomfortably; now it was his turn to squeeze her hand in encouragement. He certainly didn’t expect her to reveal anything she didn’t want to, but he had been curious about the demise of their relationship. “Remember how I said I was pregnant in jail?” He nodded. “He let me take the fall for a theft; I got caught, he got away.”

A pit formed in his stomach. “He did what?” he growled.

She waved him off. “It’s in the past; nothing to be done for it now. And, y’know, there’s a part of me that still loves him—and probably always will. But I can’t forget the pain, either.”

He longed desperately to punch Bae—or worse—for doing that to Emma, but given his own indiscretions against the lad, he didn’t have much of a moral high ground. (It would mean more if Emma were to do it, anyway.) “It’s understandable that you’d have complicated feelings towards him, then,” he offered instead. “And you are the only one who gets to decide what to do about them.”

“Thanks,” she said sincerely, a small smile coming back to her face. 

They simply sat for a moment, still holding hands, as the weight of their conversation settled around them. He figured he should probably add to that, though. “Also, I need to apologize for my behavior earlier, back in the Hollow. I can’t fully blame it on my hormones, but I definitely gave into some baser instincts that nearly cost us the mission—and our lives. I’m so sorry.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but then seemed to lack the words to say in response. He didn’t need one, really; it was more important that he say it than she accept.

But then she leaned in towards him and pressed her lips to his—firmly, but briefly.

She pulled away quickly and stood, dropping his hand as she did. “Go back to sleep; we need our rest for tomorrow,” she said—nay, commanded—then headed back to her own bedroll.

He stared as she walked away, then slowly laid back down. How could she do that and then expect him to simply fall back asleep and not be left with a tempest of emotions to deal with?

(Likely, she presumed he was pregnant and fatigued—which was an accurate assumption, and he did drift back off much sooner than he thought—but bloody hell; he wasn’t sure what was going to be harder to survive: their impending confrontation with Pan, or the emotional whiplash she was inducing.)

—----------------------------------------

In truth, Killian had no idea how much time passed during the events that followed. That was one of the odd things about Neverland—the vagueness of the passage of time; it could have been a couple days or only a couple hours. (It certainly felt like the former.)

That morning, they packed up camp and followed Tink’s lead to Pan’s hideout. After stepping aside to (urgently) relieve himself (one of the many side effects of pregnancy he was discovering), he came back to see Snow and David being far more affectionate than they had been over the last…however long. Something must have changed while he was on his little adventure yesterday.

On their hike, he found himself in stride with David as the fairy set the path. “So, you and the missus seem to be back on good terms,” he observed. 

“Yeah,” David said, smiling a bit, but not fully. “We’re, uh, we’re gonna stay.”

“Stay?”

“Here, in Neverland. Since I can’t leave.”

“Seriously?” He was aghast that anyone would willingly live here, but David just nodded. “Well, it’s…romantic, I guess. I wish you the best of luck.”

Any response David was about to give was interrupted by an unwelcome rustle in the jungle ahead; they were both quick with their blades, as were Tinkerbelle and Neal. But it was just Regina and Rumpelstiltskin, joining back up with them, apparently. Much as he loathed to admit it, it was good timing, too; they had come with a better tool to aid in their fight against Pan. 

“Pandora's box,” Regina said, explaining the odd cube Rumple held. “It could trap Pan for eternity simply by opening the lid.” He rather liked the sound of that. 

Neal, however, did not—or rather, didn’t like any idea that came from his father (of that, they were generally in agreement). 

But Neal’s explanation of a prophecy stating that Henry might be the Dark One’s undoing turned everyone’s head—and then, all of them against Rumpelstiltskin. 

Given the man’s reputation, no one quite believed him when he said he wasn’t going to do anything to hurt Henry—not until he offered Pandora’s box to Neal, in exchange promising he wouldn’t use magic. 

Killian wasn’t sure if it was due to that revelation or the general weight of what they were about to take on, but tension settled over the group as they continued on; even his babe’s movements were a bit more stuttered, it seemed. But at least now, he felt comfortable enough to rest his hand on his belly around the others; he wasn’t sure if the sense of comfort he was trying to pass to his child was felt by the little one, but it at least was by him.

A bit later, Emma came up alongside him with a canteen. But after he’d had a few sips, she asked, “Hey, can we talk?”

“I've found when a woman says that, I'm rarely in for pleasant conversation,” he teased, but obviously he wouldn’t deny a reason to chat with her.

“There has to be a way for David to leave the island—right?”

His heart fell; the one time she was trying to find a bright side, and he had none to offer. “I wish there was, love, but there isn't.”

She (adorably) chewed her bottom lip. “That water—it’s connected to the island, right? What if we take some of it with us? That way he can stay alive in Storybrooke.”

Gods, he hated to be the bearer of bad news. “In theory, yes, but for how long? Once the water runs out, the dreamshade will take his life.”

“Unless there was another cure.” The Crocodile had apparently been eavesdropping, but everyone stopped when he spoke. “Oh, you’re suddenly interested in what I have to say? Thought I wasn't to be trusted,” he sneered. 

“You're not, but I'll take my chances,” Emma snapped; Killian wasn’t so sure. 

But apparently the Dark One had been working on an antidote to the poison ever since Killian’s attempt to murder him with it hadn’t worked out (alas—though he supposed, for Henry’s sake, it was a good thing it hadn’t). 

“What's your price?” Emma asked, perhaps a bit too earnestly—but he knew she could handle a deal with the Dark One. 

“Well, this is quite the favor. I'd expect one of equal weight in return,” Gold answered, far too happy. 

“No,” Neal countered. “When we get back to Storybrooke, you're gonna save David because it's the right thing to do. No deals, no favors, understand?”

Killian turned away and brushed a tear from his eye; he was so proud of the lad (even if they were effectively the same age, he’d always think of him as that boy on his ship) (although he was still angry at him for what Emma had told him; gods, these emotional swings were annoying).

And, amazingly, Gold agreed. Emma, excitedly, ran to tell her father. (Killian had a few more tears to secretly brush away; damned hormones.)

He was able to pull it together by the time they got to the perimeter of Pan’s camp (although he nearly boiled over again when the Dark One “borrowed” his sword—without permission; at least David had an extra).

Despite all their mental preparedness, they hadn’t anticipated finding a nearly empty camp, save for—of all things—a girl.

Wendy was her name, apparently; he’d heard it in passing in his centuries here before, though was unaware she had shared history with Bae. But their brief happy reunion was cut short when she revealed the reality of the situation: that Pan was dying, and he needed Henry’s heart to survive—but they had already left for Skull Rock.

A new plan was quickly hashed out that, unfortunately, had the group splitting up—the idea made him nervous, even though tactically, he knew it was necessary. As such, he and Tink made their way back to his ship to prep it for departure; if all went well, as soon as Emma had retrieved her son, they’d be able to immediately disembark and get the hell out of this cursed realm.

“Good luck, Swan,” he told her, being so bold as to reach for her hand before everyone went their separate ways. “Like I said—I’ve yet to see you fail.”

She gave him half of a smile and squeezed his hand back. “Thanks; you too. See you soon?”

“I look forward to it.”

He and Tink then headed toward where they’d docked the ship, but if he wasn’t mistaken, she was being weird—constantly sending him sideways glances with a smirk on her lips.

“What?” he finally asked her. “Something is on your mind; spit it out, fairy.”

“Someone’s got a crush on Em-ma,” she sing-songed in reply.

He scoffed. “You’ve really been here too long; I think the immaturity of the Lost Boys has rubbed off on you.”

“Oh, come on; it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I didn’t say that I was—or that I was trying to hide it. She’s quite aware.”

“Wait!” she said urgently, then jumped in front of him and grabbed his chin. She turned his face side to side, then grinned. “Oh, there it is!”

“What?” he asked, pulling his head back and out of her grasp. 

“Emma’s kiss,” she answered, winking.

“You can see that?” he hissed, then nervously scratched behind an ear. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to fairies,” she tossed back, then started their trek again. “Does she know about the little one?”

“Aye; everyone does,” he confirmed. “Not like I’ll be able to hide it a whole lot longer.” He cupped his still-small bump, but knew it was only a matter of time before it was obvious. (And also made a mental note to visit the doctor as soon as they docked in Storybrooke.)

“No, probably not,” she laughed. She looked over her shoulder to say something else, but then a blast of energy emanated from across the island, knocking them both down.

While not as dramatic as his fall in Dark Hollow, he still took a minute to check on his babe before rising to his feet and helping Tink up. “The bloody hell was that?”

Any humor she’d had in her expression had disappeared. “No idea, but I think it came from Skull Rock.”

Oh no; that couldn’t mean anything good.

And without any further discussion, they both started to run back in the direction they’d come—back to the others. Something told him that the plans had just changed drastically.

He just prayed it wouldn’t hinder them leaving.

—---------------------------------

Killian’s stomach was not presently strong enough for the sight that greeted him upon their return to Pan’s camp: not only was the Dark One nowhere to be seen, but Henry lay on a pallet, pale and lifeless.

He had to excuse himself to retch; gods forbid anything like that ever happened to his child.

Regina quickly told everyone what had happened—the other groups had arrived at roughly the same time: how Henry had been tricked to giving Pan his heart (who had subsequently ran off with it—as well as Pandora’s box, but not before trapping Rumpelstiltskin inside it), and if they weren’t able to get it back within the next hour, the boy would die—and Pan would win.

The Lost Boys had returned, but most were holding loyal to Pan and refusing to reveal where he’d gone. At least, they were until Emma began to talk to them—and offered the one thing so many of them wanted: a home. 

(Killian’s tears returned.)

And finally, one boy told them what they needed to know: Pan had gone to his thinking tree in the Pixie Woods. He knew exactly where that was. 

Quickly, they hashed together a new plan from the old one: while the ladies took on Pan, everyone else would head back to the ship to make a hasty exit. 

There was no time for a sentimental farewell this time, but hopefully the knowing nod he gave Emma would suffice. And then they were off. 

Neal turned to him. “Let's gather up the Lost Boys and get 'em aboard the Jolly Roger, then get it ready to fly.”

He bit back the initial annoyance that anyone was giving commands for his ship, but that was beside the point right now. Fly? “Let's hope you have a Pegasus sail. Otherwise, we're at the mercy of the trade winds.”

Neal held up the coconut. “Pan's Shadow. It'll get us home, as long as your ship holds together.”

He couldn’t hold back any indignation at the insult towards his ship, though. “As long as your plan holds together, she will,” he snapped back.

He felt a bit guilty for the attitude, even if he had an excuse at the ready for being short with…well, anyone, but thankfully Neal just smirked and shoved the coconut back in his bag, then shouldered it before doing the same to Henry’s prone form.

Tink and the Charmings led the way to the ship, while he and Neal brought up the rear, making sure none of the Lost Boys got, er, more lost. 

Also—they were definitely the slowest of the group. Killian was slogging after his restless night, while Neal obviously had a heavy load. 

“Are you alright with him, mate?” Killian asked Neal. “Do you need any help?”

“Nah, I got him,” came the strained answer. “Besides, you shouldn’t be doing any heavy lifting, should you?”

“Ah, probably not,” he agreed, vaguely recalling something about that in a book. Then he chuckled. “In a way, we’re both carrying our children at the moment, eh?”

Neal laughed. “Honestly, think I prefer this way. Might not be as small but I dunno if I could handle birth.”

“I’ve been trying not to think about it,” he admitted in reply. “But I suppose it can’t be that much worse than losing a hand—right?”

“I guess you’ll find out,” Neal answered. Then he added, “This is still really weird for me, you know; not how I ever thought I’d get a sibling.”

“Aye, I imagine so. But the fact you’re at least acknowledging it is appreciated, rather than running off screaming.”

“It is what it is; but we can figure out the family dynamics when we’re home, okay?”

“Okay,” he laughed in agreement. 

But then he mused on what Neal said: “home.” Obviously, their next destination was Storybrooke; that was home port for most of this little band. But…could it be his?

He thought about it as they reached the ship and readied it for travel. There was no sense trying to go back to the Enchanted Forest; there was nothing left for him there anymore. And Neverland was the only other realm he’d spent much time in; like hell would he attempt to raise a child here. 

So Storybrooke seemed as good a place as any. (And its proximity to Emma was certainly a plus.)

He was perhaps getting lost in daydreams of a potential life in that small town adjacent to its blonde sheriff when she arrived, stomping up to the deck with Regina and Snow in tow—but most importantly, Henry’s heart. 

With not a minute to spare, Regina restored the boy’s heart. There was a tense moment waiting to see what would happen, but then Henry gasped and opened his eyes, a collective sigh of relief sounding from the adults in response. 

The lad was mildly confused by what had happened but just happy to be okay, and obviously tired. “Well then—only the best for our guest of honor. Captain's quarters,” Killian offered, and Regina ushered him below deck. 

As everyone got settled, Neal freed Rumpelstiltskin from Pandora’s box. While he wasn’t thrilled to see his foe again, it did mean that David could be cured—and that did bring a happy tear to his eye. 

He wanted to go to Emma and share a bit of that joy, but Neal moved into her space. So instead, he mounted the quarter deck and took a moment alone—well, he and the babe. “We’re almost through this, little one,” he whispered, cupping his belly. “Then smooth sailing until you arrive.”

Once Regina had returned to the deck, she and Emma went about manipulating Pan’s shadow into a more usable form—particularly, trapping it in the jib sail. It made him sick, on top of the usual wave of nausea he was dealing with, but what other option was there?

“You think it'll fly?” Emma wondered, staring at the eerily dark sail. 

“It has no choice,” Regina confirmed. 

“Then let's get the hell out of Neverland.”

That was his cue. “As you wish, m'lady,” and gave the command to weigh anchor. 

Finally—they were leaving this accursed realm. And as he felt his baby kicking within, he smiled, looking forward to the future for the first time in so long. 

————————————-

thanks for reading! tagging @cocohook38​​​​​​​​ @wyntereyez​​​​​​​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​​​​​​​ @superadam54​​​​​​​​​​ @ashley-knightingale​​​​​​​​​​ @justsomewhump​​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​​ (let me know if you want a tag!)

[standfucker]

Sunrises; part 1: Days One and Two

@rogerpirateswk​​

I wrote this for Roger Pirates Week 2023. It's two weeks late because it did not just run away from me, but sprinted like it was being chased by the devil himself. It got so big I have to post it in three parts.

Pairing: Scopper x Reader

Featured Characters: Roger, Rayleigh, Scopper, Shanks, Buggy

Reader: GN, they/them

Word Count: 10,186

CW:  Neurodivergent Reader, Reader is implied to be under 6 ft

[Disclaimer 1: This was based in part on my own experiences with anxiety. It may not match up entirely to yours. Everyone is different.

Disclaimer 2: At the time of writing this, I have not yet caught up to OP, so there are some scenes with the Roger Pirates I haven’t read yet. As such, the fic might not be wholly accurate to the canon.]

Summary:  With everyone around you dead and the ship slowly sinking, you're sure you're done for when a pirate ship chances by the wreckage. Instead, the week you spend among them is one you'll remember for the rest of your life.

Ao3 Link

The Marine ship is almost fully submerged when they come across it in the open ocean. Through the spyglass, Roger can see bodies on the exposed deck, but it’s not until they board the ship that they can identify what killed them. Gashes and gunshot wounds indicate an attack by pirates, and by the smell and the bloating of the corpses, it’s been a few days since it happened.

“Definitely been looted already,” Taro comments. “We won’t find anything worthwhile.”

“Yeah…” Roger’s not too disappointed–from the size of the Marine ship (and the fact that the crew was easily defeated,) he doubted it carried anything of interest in the first place. He’s about to call his crew back when he sees Rayleigh perk and look in the direction of the cabin. 

Roger focuses, sensing what the first mate does. “Oho? Seems they missed one.”

You are a high-strung, anxious mess on the best of days, easily overwhelmed and prone to breaking down at minor inconveniences (though they did not  feel  minor to you.) So when your Marine escort got attacked by pirates, you were hopelessly struggling to keep it together. The captain shoved you into the corner of his cabin, dragged the heavy dresser in front of you, and told you to keep quiet no matter what.

Listening to the pirates slaughter the Marines had almost spiraled you into a panic attack. It took far less to trigger one normally, but you pushed it back through sheer survival instinct, desperate to stay silent as the pirates ransacked the ship. They almost found you in their search, only inches away on the other side of the dresser–but they never thought to move it, and finally left after taking everything of value on board, including the only transponder snail. Once they were gone, you stopped holding back, going properly ballistic. The hysteria worsened when you left your hiding spot, not only because of the sight of the dead, but also due to the discovery that cannonball damage had the ship slowly filling with water.

That was three days ago. The pirates looted all the rations, and hunger made you weak, but the thirst was what really threatened to kill you. That, or drowning. With more than half of the ship underwater, it was a race between that and dehydration. As a result, you thought the ship you spotted in the distance was a dying hallucination at first, but as it got closer, you felt a glimmer of hope.

You were saved. You were saved!

And then it got even closer, enough for you to make out the Jolly Roger on the sails, and the hope was rapidly bowled over by newborn panic. You squeezed back behind the dresser and prayed. Things couldn’t get any worse. Even if these new pirates didn’t find you, the chances of a friendly ship happening by to rescue you in time were slim to none.

You hear the pirates board the ship. After a few minutes, the sound of multiple pairs of footsteps echoes through the cabin and you tense, heart in your throat. You expect them to start combing the room for spoils, but to your dismay, the footsteps go straight toward the dresser.

The entire dresser is picked up like it’s made of cardboard, revealing three huge pirates. The one on the left–the one who lifted the dresser–tosses it over his shoulder, the crash making you jump. You can’t tell what he’s thinking with his eyes concealed by shades, but the other two look curious. They’re immense specimens, tall and bulky with muscle. Shades guy and the one on the right must be over six feet, but the one in the middle is even bigger, easily over eight feet–maybe even nine. If the ‘smaller’ guy could handle heavy furniture like that, you don’t want to know what the bigger guy can do.

Despite your thirst, trepidation draws fresh tears, anxiety rocketing to its very limit as you break down. It only takes one look at the weapons sheathed at their hips to completely lose composure.

“Please don’t kill me,” you blubber, but it comes out more like ‘blease dob kill be,’ nearly incomprehensible through tears and snot.

“No one’s going to kill you,” the biggest one says. “We will torture you for information, though.”

You sob, and the one on the right, blond and wearing glasses, smacks the bigger guy. “Roger, please!” He turns to you, hands held up in a display of non-aggression. “He’s joking.”

“I am?” Roger grins.

You sob harder. Roger gets smacked again.

“He’s joking, I swear,” Blond Hair insists. “We’re not going to hurt you, so please don’t cry.”

You blink at them through watery eyes, sniffing. They don’t seem to want to murder or take advantage of you, but how can you trust the word of pirates? “...You won’t?”

Blond Hair’s expression softens. “No, we won’t. Can you tell us what happened here?”

“This ship’s done for,” Shades warns. “It’ll probably be underwater by nightfall. We should continue this conversation on the Jackson.”

“On your ship?” You squeak.

“Would you rather stay here?” Roger asks.

You can’t really argue with that.

So you end up in the galley of a pirate ship, Roger and Blond Hair sitting across from you at a table while you scarf down food and water. You learn that Roger’s the captain, and Blond Hair, named Rayleigh, is the first mate. They’re gracious enough to wait for you to eat and drink before questioning you, but there’s not much to tell in the first place.

“My parents are Marines,” you explain. “Not especially high-ranking, but respected enough that I was allowed to hitch a ride to go see them. But the ship was attacked by pirates three days ago, and… Everyone… They’re all…” Your lower lip trembles.

“Hey, don’t,” Roger says, but it’s too late. 

Now rehydrated, a new flood bursts forth, and you cover your face, overwhelmed by the savage memories. “I heard them die! All of them! They’re all dead… All dead…”

You hear a chair scoot back, feel a hand on your shoulder. You flinch, then settle under the soothing touch, peering between your fingers to see Rayleigh standing next to you.

“I’m sorry you went through that,” he says gently. “It must have been frightening.”

“It was a nightmare,” you whimper. “I don’t know what to do. The Marine outpost is a whole week away. Could I use your transponder snail? Oh, but then they could trace you…” It’s hard not to lose it at that thought, certain that no one will help you now. You bite your lip to keep it still.

Roger stands, and you can’t help but shrink back as he approaches you, an absolute wall of a man closing in. He crouches down to be closer to your level, taking your hand in his giant ones, enveloping it completely. You freeze up, intimidated by the proximity. He’s looking you directly in the eye.

“I’ll take you to your destination,” Roger pledges, earlier playfulness replaced by a startling sincerity. “That’s a promise.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “You will? But–but–it’s a Marine base! They’ll capture you!”

“They can try,” Roger smirks, a dangerous sparkle in his eye.

“But–but why?” You gape at him. “You’re pirates. My parents are Marines. Why would you do that for me?”

Roger lets go of your hand to pat your head. “It could be fun,” is all he says, standing. “I’m going to let the crew know about the change of plans.”

He leaves you, stunned, with Rayleigh. Emotion rises in your chest, an exhausting lift on the roller coaster the past few days have been. At least gratitude feels better than anguish, but it’s still staggering.

Rayleigh looks at you. “You okay?”

You burst into tears again.

“Ah,” he squeezes your shoulder. “There, there. It’ll be okay, Y/n. It may not seem like it, but you’re in good hands.”

It takes a minute before you’re composed enough to respond. “I just don’t get it. The last pirates killed everyone! But you’re helping me… It’s giving me whiplash.”

“Considering your upbringing, this may be hard to believe,” Rayleigh says, “but some pirates hold themselves to different standards. Roger never goes back on a promise.”

Rayleigh’s right about your upbringing. The dishonesty of pirates had been instilled in you from a young age. Never in your life did you expect kindness from the likes of them, but Rayleigh brings you a clean washcloth to wipe your face and sits with you until you calm down. You’re spent by the time it’s over, having barely been able to sleep in the last three days. You rest your head on the table, just intending to relax for a minute, and swiftly pass out.

Day One.

Waking up in a hammock is familiar. For a hazy moment, you think you’re back on the Marine ship. Then you realize your surroundings are completely unfamiliar, and you panic, scrambling to get out. It’s pitch black in the room, and in your blind haste, you lose your footing and fall out. That is when you discover that there is a second hammock strung below you, and it is currently occupied.

You land on the unfortunate person below, face-planting into his broad chest. The fall is only a few feet, but it’s enough to have winded the current occupant, his eyes flying open as he wheezes. Up close, you can make out his face. You don’t recognize him at first, having never seen his eyes before, but at the sight of his bushy, dark hair, you immediately remember–shades guy, the one who lifted the dresser. The past few days hit you like a sack of bricks, and you’re too shocked to move.

Shades must have thought he was under attack, because he suddenly grabs your throat on instinct. Terror floods through your system, feeling for yourself the strength he displayed earlier as he squeezes, your airway cut off in an instant. Your hands fly up to pull at his wrist desperately, but he doesn’t budge.

It only lasts for a second, but panic seems to stretch it out longer. Shades comes to his senses, now fully awake, and lets go as if burned. “Shit! Sorry, I’m sorry! You startled me!”

You cough, eyes watering in reflex, trembling from adrenaline.

“Are you okay?” He asks, brow knit in concern.

“No!” You gasp, but backpedal right away, remembering your place. He’s a pirate. You’re on his turf. Intimately so, at the moment. “Ah! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you! I–I fell…”

You frantically start to push away from his chest, but the hammock’s swing means you can’t brace properly, and you flop ungracefully back into him. “Oof! S-Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” he says as you struggle to get up again. “I’m sorry I grabbed you–hold on, I’ll help you out–if you would just–would you stop squirming!”

“Pipe down over there,” a drowsy voice calls out. You squint through the darkness to see multiple hammocks hanging in the room, all bulky with their sleeping dwellers. Or formerly sleeping, anyway. Did you wake up everyone?

You’re too agitated to think of the closeness of your bodies as anything but mortifying, but then another voice gruffly says, “Go somewhere else to fuck. We’re trying to sleep.”

Your face flushes hot, especially when you realize that Shades is resting his hands on your hips. Your eyes meet, you with a look of flustered alarm, him with mild amusement.

“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down.

“Trying to help you,” he whispers. “Hold still.”

He lifts you as easily as he did the dresser, setting you onto the floor lightly and not letting go until he’s sure you’ve found your balance.

“I’m good,” you say quietly, a little dizzy from how easy it was for him, and from the sensation of his fingers digging into your flesh. Even after he lets go, you still feel it, like indents in clay. There’s a briskness to the beating of your heart that’s not solely from fear, and in spite of everything, you find yourself thinking of how nice he smelled.

He is a pirate, you remind yourself firmly. He’s dangerous. He literally just choked you without thinking, so maybe chill out?

Shades sits up in his hammock, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry for scaring you like that.”

“You didn’t mean it. And I’m fine, so no harm done.” You are not fine, still wired from the experience, and your throat hurts, but placating others is a deeply-ingrained habit. Now that you’re up, you don’t actually know what to do with yourself. There’s no light coming from the porthole, so it’s either very late or very early. “What time is it?”

Rather than finding a watch, Shades scans the room for a minute. “...Between five and six.”

“How can you tell?”

Shades puts a finger to his lips, smiling. He swings his legs over the hammock and stands up. “Let’s step outside. Don’t want to wake anyone else.” He stretches, and you glance at the flexing muscles of his impressive upper body.

“But–”

“Shh.” He swipes his signature shades from a nearby table and makes his way out of the sleeping quarters. You follow him awkwardly.

Once you’re in the corridor, he starts explaining as he leads you elsewhere in the ship. “Sunbell goes for a swim around five, every morning without fail. And Spencer gets up at six to make breakfast, but he was still asleep. That’s how I know.”

“You didn’t have to get up,” you say worriedly. “You can go back to bed.”

“I can’t fall back asleep at this point. Don’t stress over it, though.” 

Shades reaches to pat your shoulder, but you flinch away from his hand, now acutely conscious of what it’s capable of. His smile falls and he stops walking.

“Listen, I’m real sorry about all of that,” he says genuinely. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling after what you went through.”

“It’s okay,” you say, though it comes out a little weak.

“I don’t think it is,” he says, and you gawk at him, once again shocked by kindness coming from a pirate. “I’ll make it up to you, somehow.”

“Wha–no! You really don’t have to do that!”

He shrugs.

“I… I…” You start, but don’t know what to say. What could you do, anyway? Stop him? You didn’t need to be a Marine’s kid to know that pirates did as they pleased.  “...Okay.”

“Anyway, it’s Rayleigh’s fault for putting you on the top hammock.” Shades smiles again. Given the darkness, he’s elected to hang his shades from the neckline of his shirt, so you can see his eyes when he smiles. They’re surprisingly alluring, crinkling at the corners. “You know, I never got your name.”

“Oh! Um…” you fidget while you introduce yourself, wanting to avoid eye contact yet oddly captivated.

“Y/n,” he echoes, never looking away. “I’m Scopper Gaban. You can just call me Scopper!”

“Okay��� Scopper.”

Scopper’s smile widens. “You hungry? Spencer might not be up, but there’s still leftover rations.”

You shake your head. Anxiety takes up any free space in your stomach, too unsettled to have an appetite.

Scopper leads you to the deck. There are a few crewmates lingering about on the night watch. Cloud cover blocks any view of the stars, casting the surrounding ocean into darkness.

“I can never get used to the ocean at night,” you say in wonder, stepping up to the ship’s railing and peering over the edge. The water below looks like ink. “It feels like it’s going to swallow me up.”

Right as you say that, a huge, ambiguous shape rises up from the waves. You stumble back with a curse, the entire ship rolling to the side as something grabs on.

“Don’t be scared,” Scopper says, “that’s just Sunbell.”

Sunbell clambers over the ship’s railing, dripping wet. He’s absolutely massive, making the rest of the crew look like children in comparison, and he’s not even the biggest crewmate. You glimpsed an even bigger one yesterday on your way to the galley. But while you had seen big people before, this was your first time seeing a fish-man in person.

“Mornin',” Sunbell grunts at Scopper, then narrows his eyes at you. “Hm? Oh… The little Marine survivor.”

You scoot behind Scopper without thinking, wide eyes focused on the sharp points of Sunbell’s teeth, like a mouth full of knives.

Sunbell doesn’t miss the action, his scowl revealing more razor teeth. “What’s with that look? Never seen a fish-man before?”

You shrink at the admonishment and shake your head.

“Morning, ‘Bell,” Scopper greets. “How’s the water?”

“Nice and cold,” Sunbell says, flicking some water onto Scopper. “See?”

Scopper’s yelp is undignified, catching you so off-guard that you laugh despite your nerves. He looks at you over his shoulder sourly, and you cover your mouth.

“It’s too early for you to be a dick,” Scopper grumbles at Sunbell. “The sun’s not even up.”

“Them’s the breaks, Scopper,” Sunbell says. “You gonna bitch or you gonna do something about it?”

“I just might,” Scopper growls.

The two pirates glare at each other, tension flaring between them, and for a terrifying moment, you think they’re going to fight. Anxiety spikes in your body in preparation, only for them to break out into grins, leaving you thoroughly confused and jittery. This ship was not good for your heart…

“You should join me sometime. Cold water is good for humans, too.”

“Hard pass.”

“Hmph...”

Sunbell lumbers past the two of you, though he flicks water again as he does–this time at you. The droplets are like ice on your skin, and your resulting squawk is as embarrassing as Scopper’s was, making Sunbell chuckle to himself.

You watch him leave, face warm and heart pounding, before looking at Scopper again. His grin hasn’t left him. “See? Nothing to be afraid of.”

You don’t tell Scopper how extremely wrong he is.

“I don’t care for mornings, but at least we can watch the sun rise,” Scopper muses. “You’ve seen an ocean sunrise, right?”

“No, I haven’t,” you reply. “I always slept in on the Marine ships.”

“Then you’re in for a treat! There’s nothing like it.”

The black of the sky fades with the passing time, becoming indigo before lightening into shades of navy. More crewmates filter out onto the deck as they wake, relieving the night watch. The first sliver of sun crests the horizon, and with it, Roger appears, coming to stand next to you at the railing. He’s joined by Rayleigh, and then a few other crewmates.

You glance behind you. Much of the crew has gathered there, some making sleepy conversation, most staying quiet. You look back ahead, filled with a sensation you can’t name as you all watch the rising sun. The light casts a myriad of soft colors across the clouds, pinks and purples and yellows that reflect in the water.

Scopper leans close to you. “Hell of a view, right?” he whispers. “Gives you a good feeling.”

You nod, silently agreeing. Maybe it’s the way the sun paints the sea from black to blue, or maybe it’s the growing warmth on your skin. But at that moment, the nerves and the bad memories don’t seem to be as all-consuming, and you feel like everything will be okay.

So begins your first day with the Roger Pirates.

Roger has a way of jovially barking out commands, ever in a good mood as he plots a course for the Marine outpost. It helps keep your own spirits high, even though you flinch at some of his shouts.

You do your best to stay out of the way. It’s similar to being on the Marine ship in that sense, idly wandering while the crew works. You’re passing by Scopper and Rayleigh when the blond calls out to you.

Rayleigh’s frowning, which makes you tense, unsure of what you did wrong. His formerly gentle voice now has a steel edge to it. “...Who did that to you?”

You frown, too, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Did what?”

“Your neck,” Rayleigh says. “There are bruises.”

Next to him, Scopper goes pale.

Your hand flies to your neck, pressing down on your skin. Though you can’t see it, the dull pain is confirmation enough. Embarrassment washes over you, though it’s tempered by fear from the first mate’s chilly tone.

“Y/n,” Rayleigh says slowly, “you are a guest on board the ship. I need you to tell me who thought it was okay to lay a hand on you.”

You exchange panicked glances with Scopper, neither of you able to find the right words. Then another crewmate passing by helpfully answers in your stead.

“It was Scopper, but he wasn’t attacking or nothin’,” he says casually. “They were trying to fuck this morning.”

“No we were not!” You and Scopper shout at once, then each break into your own string of garbled explanations.

Rayleigh rounds on Scopper, eyes dark, and Scopper shuts up immediately. The energy coming off of Rayleigh is potent enough that you go quiet, too, even though it’s not directed at you.

“Gaban,” Rayleigh’s hiss gives you goosebumps.

Scopper holds his hands up defensively. “I-It was an accident! I swear!”

Although Scopper has since donned his shades, you don’t need to see his eyes to tell he’s genuinely scared for his life. Witnessing a powerful pirate like him cower under Rayleigh’s aura is unnerving, and it also strikes you with guilt. It was your fault for startling Scopper in the first place. You have to own up, even if the thought of attracting Rayleigh’s attention right now makes you want to wet yourself. 

“R-R-Rayleigh,” you stammer, soul slipping from your body when he turns his piercing look to you. “Um…! It was my fault, s-so… Um… Let me explain?”

Like a switch being flipped, Rayleigh’s entire demeanor changes, all threat leaving his expression when he regards you. You let out a breath and proceed to describe what happened, covering your face in humiliation when you detail your clumsiness.

“So you see, it really was just an accident.” You lower your hands, peeking at Rayleigh.

Rayleigh purses his lips together, sputters, and then guffaws, bent over and bracing a hand on his thigh. His bellowing laughter draws heads, your face burning as a result.

“It’s not funny…” you mumble.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Rayleigh cackles, though he obviously disagrees. “I’m s-sorry.”

While it was at your expense, you far preferred Rayleigh laughing instead of angry. Beside him, Scopper’s whole body sags with relief.

“You’d better take responsibility, Scopper,” Rayleigh says, unable to suppress his grin. “Thanks to you–”  he emphasizes the word, and Scopper cringes, “–our guest will have to endure questions.”

“Yes, sir. I will,” Scopper says. He thinks for a moment, utters “oh, I know,” and unties his sash from his waist.

You tense as Scopper leans over you, wrapping the beige sash around your neck. It’s a bit big to wear as a scarf, coming past your chin and drooping around your shoulders, but it does the trick. Your face can’t get any hotter, though for a different reason this time, that nice scent of his now hanging around you, sensed with every inhale.

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly. Ordinarily, you would protest, but you just want Rayleigh to be satisfied, and while you look a little silly, at least you won’t get weird comments this way.

It turns out that there was no need to worry about comments. Almost no one on the crew speaks to you at all. You’re not sure if you prefer it that way. On the one hand, they scare you. On the other hand, their cold dismissal makes you even more anxious. Maybe they’re mad they had to change course for your sake, or maybe it’s because you’re the child of Marines. At least you don’t have to worry about any of them hurting you, given Rayleigh’s earlier reaction.

(You worry about it anyway, though. It’s just how you are.)

There are two kids on board the ship, which makes you side-eye Roger. You’ve heard of the occasional pirate crew employing kids, and you don’t approve in the slightest. The Grand Line is hardly a playground, and a pirate ship is no place to grow up. For what it’s worth, the kids seem healthy, having no shortage of energy, yelling and playing together in between the menial tasks assigned to them. Though the kids shoot you curious glances, they follow the crew’s example and don’t speak to you.

In the evening, Roger gives you a tour of the ship, lovingly info-dumping about its specs, the special wood it’s built from, and even the shipwright who built it. He shows you every room in the ship proudly, even the treasure hold, laughing when you gasp at the piles of riches. You get the sense he’s not just showing off, either, eager to share a glimpse of his life with you for reasons you can’t explain.

At night, you and Scopper tactfully switch hammocks, you taking the lower one to prevent another disaster. Although you’re tired, it’s hard to sleep, plagued by general worries and specific worries and worries over things that have yet to happen. My clothes are filthy. I’ll have to borrow clothing from the pirates if I want to wash them… What if the pirates change their mind halfway through the trip and throw me overboard? Or sell me into trafficking?… Mom and dad don’t even know that anything’s happened. They’re expecting me to arrive with the Marines in a week. No one knows they’re dead yet…

Whenever you feel like you’re on the cusp of slumber, the dying screams of the Marines echo in your head and twist your stomach until you’re nauseous. You don’t want to wake anyone by crying, but it’s impossible to stop. Biting your tongue doesn’t help, a few tears slipping past anyway, and you do your best to muffle your sniffling. Hours pass, until you hear Sunbell get up, eerily light-footed for someone so big. No one stirs as he leaves the sleeping quarters, and eventually you fall asleep in the early hours of the morning.

The sleeping quarters are emptier when you wake, only a fraction of the hammocks strung up. Sunlight filters past the porthole’s curtain, indicating you’ve overslept. The crewmates currently sleeping must be the ones on the night watch. You step lightly, careful not to wake them as you leave.

Day Two.

Like the previous day, the crew ignores you. It’s a stark difference from waking on board the Marine ship.

“Finally up, L/n Junior?”

“You’re so lucky you get to sleep in, L/n!”

The Marine crew called you by your last name, or ‘Junior,’ or both. Aside from the Captain.

“Morning, kid.”

“Please, Captain,” you objected. “I’m older than some of the recruits.”

“Still a kid to me!”

You blink away tears. There are five more days you have to endure here, and then you’ll be safe. Then you can tell your parents everything that happened, make sure the fallen Marines get properly recognized. You’ll almost certainly have to talk to someone high-ranking, which makes you anxious to think about. The higher-ups in the Marines have a reputation for being intense. But it would be a debriefing, not an interrogation. They’ll believe you… Right? Surely, they will…

“Hey there.”

You jump, whirling around to see Scopper. His thumbs are hooked through his belt loops, back slightly curved in a relaxed slouch. “Oh! Scopper… Good morning.”

“Try again,” he says playfully.

You glance indirectly at the sun, already past the apex of its arc through the sky. “Good afternoon?”

“There you go.”

You’re not sure if it’s his easygoing smile that makes your chest tight, or the memory of the other night. The fear of him blends together with the appeal you can’t deny is there, until you can’t tell where one starts and the other ends. It’s disorienting.

“I don’t usually wake up this late,” you say, a little self-conscious. 

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Something like that,” you dismiss. “A shame... I missed the sunrise.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Scopper sounds pleased with himself. “I could wake you up for tomorrow’s, if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It wouldn’t be a hassle.”

You study his face, trying to figure out why he’s offering, but you can’t see past the shades. What does he gain from being friendly with you? Maybe it comes from working under Roger. It’s not a stretch, given that the captain himself is going to the trouble of sidelining his plans for a week for your sake. But the rest of the crew doesn’t care for your presence, so what’s Scopper’s deal? Is he just like that?

You shift from foot to foot. It would be nice to see the sunrise again. “If you really don’t mind…”

“Not at all,” Scopper says gingerly.

Warmth creeps across your face. You don’t respond, speechless from the amiable treatment. You can’t get used to it–it goes against everything you’ve been taught about pirates.

Scopper tilts his head at you, seemingly unbothered by your silence. “You missed breakfast and lunch. I bet you’re hungry.”

“I’m okay,” you lie quickly. For one thing, the rule on Marine ships is you don’t eat if you’re late. For another, the thought of going through their stores and getting yelled at for it ( especially  by a pirate) is terrifying. “I’ll just wait for dinner.”

“Nonsense! Come on, I’ll take you to the galley. Spencer doesn’t like people going there between meals, but he won’t say shit to me, so it’ll be fine.”

Scopper walks past you without further discussion, waving a hand for you to follow. You do so, trotting a bit to keep up. “He won’t?”

“Nah. I outrank him,” Scopper smiles dryly, “not that rank’s ever stopped most of the crew from having a mouth, but Spencer respects the chain of command.”

“Oh… Okay.”

Upon entering the galley, you’re apprehensive to see the ship’s cook is already there, making preparations for dinner. Spencer looks up sharply from where he’s chopping vegetables when the two of you walk in, steely gaze flicking first to Scopper and then settling on you. The look alone is enough to freeze you in place while Scopper keeps going, unawares.

“Hey, Spencer. Give me a serving of leftovers from today’s lunch.” Scopper’s manner is laid-back despite him not actually asking.

Spencer glances at Scopper again, puts down his knife wordlessly, and goes to the fridge.

Scopper notices you’re no longer next to him and looks over his shoulder. “What’re you doing over there? Come on in.”

You swallow. Spencer’s back is currently turned, which helps you muster up the courage to enter. You step partially behind Scopper when the cook returns, now holding a plate of buckwheat noodles and a small bowl of sauce. He doesn’t say anything when he hands them to you, but his dour expression clearly highlights his dissatisfaction.

“You can eat in here,” Scopper says to you, and Spencer narrows his eyes, “or in the mess room. There are some crewmates in there, too, just so you know.”

Neither option is favorable, but you figure being around one frigid pirate is better than being around multiple. At least Scopper is here–he’s the only one aside from Roger and Rayleigh who doesn’t seem adverse to your existence.

That comfort is swiftly dashed when Scopper says, “I’m still on duty, so I’ll see you later.” He holds up his hands, showing the grease staining them from the ship’s ropes.

“Ah,” your voice comes out small at the prospect of being left alone with the icy cook. “Okay…”

Right before Scopper leaves the galley, he pauses and turns. “Hey, Spencer? Cool it on the eye daggers. I know you prefer being alone while you cook, but suck it up for a bit.”

Spencer looks like he wants to say something, his jaw set, but he doesn’t, just as Scopper said. He also doesn’t follow Scopper’s direction. Though you sit at the far end of the counter to eat, you can feel Spencer’s eyes on you like a physical thing. It may be your imagination, but he seems to chop harder, the chok chok chok of the knife echoing throughout the room and killing your appetite with how it unsettles your stomach. You force the food down anyway, afraid he would get even more upset if you bothered him just to end up not eating.

You wash your dishes when you’re done, carefully avoiding eye contact. Once you dry your hands, you take a slow breath to calm yourself, gathering the nerve to talk. Offering gratitude for a meal is another deeply ingrained habit.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, then try again, raising your voice a little, “it was good…”

The compliment doesn’t affect Spencer, his stony glare remaining. You don’t stick around any longer than you have to.

There’s nowhere on the ship you really feel safe. You walk up one side of the ship and down the other in agitated circles, like a pacing animal in a cage too small. It’s hard enough to be calm on a normal day–the current circumstances are overwhelming. Death lingering on your mind, surrounded by animosity, no place to escape, no choice but to trust someone you were told can’t be trusted. Uneasy, uptight, and confused from the kindness that’s been shown to you in between. It builds like uneven bricks, stacked loose and threatening to come crashing down. 

You know you’re going to react disruptively. You know you’re not going to be able to hold it in. It always happens when you get wound tight enough, out of your control, your body taking matters into its own hands and doing something to relieve the tension.

You’re looking out over the ocean when it finally becomes too much. Digging your fingers into the railing, you tip your head back and scream.

The shame is immediate, even before you hear the crew go quiet. A lifetime of adverse reactions to your issues ensures that. You stare at the water, afraid to see their faces, knowing what their expressions must be like. You’ve seen it before, after all, from people who have witnessed your questionable coping methods in the past.

You hear footsteps approaching and tense. Roger comes next to you, resting his hands by yours on the railing. You glance his way, but keep your gaze low, not meeting his eye, waiting for him to ask you what the hell your problem is.

There’s a pause, and then Roger screams, as loud and as sudden as you did, making you jump. You look at him in shock. He grins down at you.

You stare back, unsure if he’s making fun of you at first. There’s nothing but mirth in his eyes, after all. But you don’t get the sense he’s teasing you–you get the sense that he doesn’t give a fuck. Like it’s a game. He doesn’t say anything, but you feel like he’s giving you permission, in a way.

You face the ocean and scream again, this time more intently, really pouring your frustrations into it. Roger joins you like a wolf joining a howl, shouting across the sea with even greater volume due to his size. The both of you scream like lunatics for a good minute. When it’s finally out of your system and your throat is sore, you meet his gaze once again, this time reflecting his grin. The both of you start laughing. It’s a little euphoric, the stress in your system temporarily replaced with bubbling joy. No words are exchanged, but you feel more connected to him in that moment than you have to anyone in a long time.

Roger doesn’t say anything when he leaves, either, returning to his duties like nothing happened. To your surprise, the crew doesn’t seem phased by the incident, continuing to work as if this was normal for their captain. It’s more telling than anything you’ve seen so far.

The bizarre display must have intrigued the kids, because both of them come bounding up to you a while later. They’re equal in stature, one with crimson hair beneath a straw hat, the other’s blue hair mostly covered by a beanie, his bulbous red nose standing out. You’re familiar with the brutal honesty of children, and await the inevitable “what’s wrong with you?” line of questioning.

The kid with the straw hat goes first. “You’re weird!”

There it is. You smile at the blatant lack of manners, having expected as much. “That’s rude, you know. Didn’t these guys teach you to introduce yourself to someone new?”

“We don’t have to!” Blue Hair declares. “Cuz we’re pirates!”

“Then I’ll pick something to call you until you tell me your names,” you decide. “How about… Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

“NO!!” they shout indignantly.

“Okay, then…” You point at them one by one. “You can be Red Shrimp, and you can be Blue Shrimp.”

You giggle. “I can’t think of anything else, so that will have to do.”

“NO!!”  Their angry faces are adorable.

“My name is Shanks!” Red hair protests.

“And I’m Buggy!” Blue hair adds.

That was easy. 

“Hanks and Duggy?” you say cluelessly, just to mess with them a little.

“Shanks!” Shanks yells.

“Buggy!” Buggy cries.

You cover your mouth to suppress your laugh. “Ohhh, okay. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Shanks and Mr. Buggy.”

Buggy swells at the title, but Shanks takes it as condescending and is less impressed. “Don’t sweet-talk me, Marine!”

“Pfft!” Your sputter only makes Shanks madder.

“Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry, Shanks,” you lower your hand once you’re sure you can maintain composure, “and I’m not a Marine, by the way.”

“You’re not?” Buggy asks. “Then why were you on the Marine ship?”

“My parents are Marines, but I never enlisted. I was hitching a ride, that’s all.”

“Oh…” Buggy thinks for a moment. “But you’ve seen the higher-ups, right?”

“The higher-ups?” You wonder where this is going. “Some of them, in passing.”

“Have you seen the Buddha?” Shanks asks excitedly.

“You mean Vice Admiral Sengoku?” You’re a bit surprised–of course, any competent pirate crew would stay informed about their opposition, but you didn’t expect that the kids would know about it. Seems that Roger’s crew really is preparing them for a life of piracy. The thought is a bit distressing, but you try not to let it show. Right now, they’re both staring at you expectantly, eyes big. And you have just the story for them. “Actually…”

Their eyes get wider.

}---{

Dad was supposed to be off work, but there was an emergency call in the dark hours of the morning that had him rushing to the outpost. Once you woke up, you found his hat on the floor of the kitchen, forgotten in his haste. He could get in trouble for breaking the dress code, so you decided to bring it to him–it wouldn’t be the first time. Before you left, you assembled two simple lunches, too; dad and mom both complained about the quality of the food served on base.

You knew the layout of the building fairly well by then, heading directly to a room further in the back. As a Lieutenant, your mom had her own office, and while she probably wouldn’t be there right then, the Ensign that handled her paperwork would be. They could get the hat and lunches to where they needed to go. 

Most of the servicemen you passed by greeted you with familiarity. More of them knew you than you knew them, making you wonder how much your parents talked about you while on duty. Sweet, but embarrassing…

Then you saw someone you’ve never met, but recognized immediately. You froze to the spot as he walked down the hall, headed to intersect your path. He was instantly distinguished by his hair, a perfectly spherical afro, and, of course, by the goat that followed after him. Your jaw dropped lower the closer he came. Until then, you’d only seen him in pictures–you had no idea he was that massive, but he towered over you at nine feet. His uniform was adorned with medals, and as he approached, he actually stopped and turned, looking down at you through black-rimmed glasses.

“V-Vice Admiral Sengoku,” you stammered. 

Civilians weren’t required to salute to servicemen, but it was something your parents had taught you to do regardless. With one hand carrying the lunch boxes and the other holding a bag of rice crackers, your panicking brain decided the best option was to salute anyway. You did so with the rice cracker hand, the bag held to your temple in possibly the stupidest moment of your life.

Sengoku blinked, then smiled. “At ease.”

You dropped your hand. It took physical effort to keep yourself from trembling.

“Is it your mother, or father?” Sengoku asked.

“P-Pardon me?” You had no idea why he was talking to you. Surely, he had better things to attend to.

“Only Marines make their kids salute at soldiers. Is it your mother, or father?”

“Oh! It’s both...”

“Both parents? Then you must be L/n’s kid.”

It took you by complete surprise that he knew who they were, mouth hanging open before you found a response. “Um, yeah. That’s right.”

“Well, they’re lucky to have such a thoughtful kid,” he said warmly, glancing at the lunches. Behind him, his goat started chewing on his coat.

“T-Thank you, sir.”

“Take it easy.” Sengoku nodded at you and made to keep walking when a sudden, booming stomach growl reverberated out from his gut. He froze just like you had, face blank in disbelief as it echoed around the both of you, then grimaced at himself. “E-Excuse me. I had to skip breakfast.

You were too stunned to react right away, but once you regained your senses, you held out the bag of crackers in offering. “Um… Here, why don’t you have this? There’s still plenty of food in the lunch boxes, so it’s no big deal…”

“Really?” Sengoku said, accepting the bag once you nodded. “Thank you, L/n! That’s very considerate.”

You watched him leave, letting out a sigh of relief once his back was turned.

}---{

Shanks and Buggy howl with laughter at your description of Sengoku’s indignity, not really listening to the rest of the story after that, but you don’t mind.

“He really just let the goat eat his clothes?” Buggy asks.

“Oh, yeah,” you grin, “it does whatever it wants. I’ve heard that it eats important documents when he’s not looking.”

The boys get a kick out of that, giggling at the thought of the feared Buddha conceding to a goat.

“Taro said you’re a wuss, so I thought you’d be lame,” Shanks says earnestly, “but you’re funny!”

Ouch. It’s not an untrue statement, though. You can’t help but snicker at his cheek. “Yeah? What else did they say?”  

It’s only natural that the kids would ask the crew why you’re sailing with them. You expect more insults, so Shanks’ reply catches you off guard.

“He said we need to trust in the Captain’s decisions.”

“...Did he? Huh…” That’s more conviction than you expected from the likes of pirates, but these pirates have repeatedly shown that they’re far from ordinary. 

“Hey,” Buggy pokes you rudely, “it’s warm out. Why is your scarf so big?”

“Quit that,” you push his hand away. “I got hurt, so I’m hiding the bruises. I don’t want to worry anyone.”

“Can I see?”

“Sure.”

The following experience would become a life lesson for you, one in which you learned the value of lying to children. You remove the scarf, and both boys observe the marks on your neck curiously.

Shanks looks you directly in the eye and asks, “Are those sex bruises?”

The question hits you like a freight train, bowling you into slack-jawed silence. Then you whip your head around, immediately finding Roger further along the deck, and the pirate captain goes stiff at your death glare.

You face the kids again, trying to recover. “You don’t even know what that is.”

“I know what sex is!”

“Me too!” Buggy says.

“Let’s talk about something else,” you say firmly.

You don’t get the chance. A crewmate holding mops and buckets comes up behind the boys, inadvertently saving you.

“Enough slacking off, you little turds!” he thunders. “Get busy!”

Shanks and Buggy groan, but comply, taking the cleaning supplies with a dramatic show of reluctance before marching off like they’re being led to their deaths.

Mealtimes on the ship continue to be harrowing. The day shift eats together, congregating in the mess room. You’re bad enough with crowds without them consisting of armed pirates who could care less if you lived or died. You eat in silence and sit away from everyone else as much as possible.

Dinner is no different, you taking your tray and heading directly to a corner of the table. Though you mostly keep your eyes down, sometimes you can’t help but sneak looks at the crewmates, mainly eyeing their weapons. The man currently passing you by doesn’t have them, but he doesn’t need them, his visage fearsome enough on its own. Stocky and broad-shouldered, with a square jaw and a rugged scar on his forehead, he’s bigger than even Roger. He glances at you, taking the cigar out of his mouth, and you tense as your eyes meet.

The pirate suddenly lunges at you with a snarl, arms raised like he means to grab you.

You scream, stumbling back, the tray flying from your hands and its contents crashing to the floor. Rather than attacking you, however, the pirate bursts into hearty laughter, clutching his stomach. The crewmates who witnessed the spectacle join in, crowing around you that makes you burn hot as you realize he was messing with you.

Terrified and humiliated, you can only stare at the upturned dishes and the food spilled onto the floor. You wonder if Spencer will even give you another serving. You wonder if the rest of the trip is going to be like this. You wonder if your nerves will be able to hold out.

You want to cry, but you won’t do it in front of these pirates.

A shadow falling over you makes you look up. Scopper has stepped in front of you, placing himself between you and the scarred pirate. You can’t see Scopper’s face, but you instantly get tense from the energy coming off of him as he looks up, arms crossed, at the bigger man. The others sense it too, going quiet.

“Mugren.” Scopper sounds calm and level, but you can feel the underlying threat in his tone. “Clean it up.”

Mugren looks surprised, obviously not anticipating a consequence. He takes a step back. “Scopper?”

Scopper’s voice drops low. “Clean it up before I make you eat your cigar.”

Mugren takes another step back, then scowls and turns away, muttering irritably to himself as he goes to take care of the mess.

“Got something to say to me, Mugren?” Scopper’s question is laced with warning.

Mugren stiffens. “No.”

“Ah, I see! I must have been hearing things.”

“M-Must be it.”

You shudder, going rigid once Scopper turns to you. “Go have a seat. I’ll bring you another tray,” he says coolly. Unlike Rayleigh, Scopper’s aura doesn’t abate right away, and you have to remind yourself that the simmering enmity is not intended for you.

You wait for Scopper at the table’s corner, and when he returns, it’s with two trays. He sits next to you, sliding one in front of you and the other before himself. He’s calmed down by then, voice gentle when he speaks. “Are you okay?”

You poke at the food with your fork, appetite long since diminished. “...Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about them.”

Why did you do that? Your head is buzzing with the question, longing to ask him but not able to find the courage. Why did you do that for me? Instead, you shrug weakly. “You’re pirates. I’m from a Marine family. It’s to be expected.”

“But you’re not a Marine,” Scopper points out. “You’ve never done anything to harm us. You shouldn’t be treated like you have.”

You glance at him. He’s not touching his food either, solemn attention focused on you.

“It could be worse,” you reason, “you guys could have left me on the Marine ship to drown. Or, you know. Worse… I’m grateful to be rescued at all. I’m not about to complain.”

“That’s a pretty gallant take,” Scopper says. “If I were you, I’d be pissed as hell over the whole thing.”

That makes you smile. Of course anger was one of your many swirling emotions during this whirlwind of an escort, but your forgiving nature meant it was often buried away or overshadowed by anxiety.

“I just…” you start, sighing, “I get nervous.”

“I sort of got that impression,” Scopper says, his smile showing that he’s teasing. “It’s fine.”

“If you say so.” You didn’t think it was fine, but you weren’t about to argue with him.

Scopper props his elbow on the table and rests his chin on his hand. “Since you’re not a Marine, what do you do?”

“For a living?” You feel a prickle of old shame. The truth was that your nerves were so bad you couldn’t hold a job, or at least not one your parents approved of. You mainly lived off of their income. “Nothing consistent, really. I’ll watch the other soldiers’ kids, or help my neighbor carry her things to the market, or make deliveries. Odd jobs like that. Sometimes I can sell a painting, but it has to be under my mom’s nose.”

“You paint?” Scopper asks, and you nod. “Why hide that?”

“She says it’s a waste of time. That I should put my efforts toward learning a trade.” You try not to look sullen. “I don’t want to, though...”

“What do you want to do, then?”

“Sketch, paint, play music. My neighbor’s teaching me to crochet, which is nice. Real soothing. I guess I like making things, but my parents don’t think it’s worth doing.”

“Neither of them?”

“Mostly my mom, but dad goes along with whatever she says. ‘Listen to your mother. She’s looking out for you.’ That sort of thing.”

“Sounds like a crock of shit.”

You laugh shortly. “And you know what’s best for me, Mr. Pirate?”

Scopper grins. “I didn’t say that.”

You smile to yourself. You’re already feeling a lot better, enough to be able to stomach food again. Scopper starts eating once you do, the two of you conversing in between bites, and you’re astounded at how easy it is to talk to him. You ask about the kids, learning that they’ve both essentially been adopted by the crew from a young age. The fondness with which Scopper speaks about them gives you some relief about their situation.

After you finish eating, Scopper leans forward to look past you to the other end of the table, where Roger’s sitting. “Hey, Captain!”

“What?” Roger shouts back.

“Whatever did we do with the loot from those weirdo Artsy Pirates we stomped a few months ago?”

You think this crew has no business calling any other one ‘weird,’ but you keep that to yourself.

“It’s still in the hold.”

Scopper sits back, turning to you. “Wait here. I’ll be a few minutes.”

You put both of your trays away in the meantime, wondering what he’s up to as you return to your seat. It’s a good ten minutes before Scopper comes back, and he’s carrying art supplies with him–a canvas tucked under one arm, mid-sized but looking tiny compared to the bulk of his body, and a bag in the other. He upturns the bag on the table in front of you, a palette clattering out along with paint brushes and tubes of oil paints.

“There we go. Now you have something to do to pass the time,” Scopper says cheerfully, handing you the canvas.

“Oh…” You don’t have anything smarter to say, humbled by his consideration. Accepting the canvas, you inspect it to see that it’s already been primed. “Um… Thank you. That’s… That’s really nice of you.”

“You’re welcome!” Scopper flops into the chair next to you, looking at you expectedly.

You take in his expression. “Right now?”

“Why not? You got anything better to do?”

“...Guess not,” you agree, making room for the canvas on the table and arranging the supplies before you neatly. Without an easel or smock, you’ll have to be extra careful not to get paint on yourself or the tablecloth–though the stains currently set in the latter probably mean that no one would really care, you won’t take chances with getting yelled at.

For a minute, you just look at the selection of colors, thinking about what you want to paint. A memory from yesterday surfaces, one of dazzling colors that left a stark impression. Something you saw for the first time.

You squeeze the colors you need onto the palette and start, using the largest brush to dab the canvas with a base layer of white in practiced back-and-forth strokes. The world around you fades out as you focus, the repetitive scraping of the brush fibers against the canvas almost hypnotizing. You don’t think about your current situation, nor that anyone’s watching. Nerves and stress seem to dull alongside the rest of your surroundings, a sense of calm settling over them like dust on a sill.

Once the base layer is even, you change brushes, dipping into the red paint next. It mixes with the white layer into a soft pink that you feather across the top half of the canvas, then switch to straight strokes for the bottom half. You don’t swap brushes when you add yellow next, letting the colors blend together. By the time you add lavender clouds, the intended picture becomes obvious. The puffy top half of the painting forms a sky, while the more linear strokes of the bottom half become the water. You paint a horizon line and add more purple to define the waves, then blend everything together. The white paint you use for the sun picks up the orange beneath it, merging into the color that you remember, and with a few more thin lines of white on the waves to indicate the sun’s reflection, it’s finished.

Reality comes back slowly, like someone’s turning the knob on a speaker, sights and sounds gradually returning to their original intensity. You have no idea how much time has passed, but the mess room has fewer people than it did before. Scopper speaks up next to you, making you jump–you’ve managed to forget he was there entirely while you were concentrating.

“That’s incredible, Y/n,” he marvels, “it looks exactly like yesterday’s sunrise.”

“Not exactly,” you say quickly, flustered from his reaction. “I was working from memory… If I had a photograph, I could be more accurate with the colors.”

“No, that’s pretty legit,” someone says behind you, making you jump again. You whirl around to see a few crewmates hovering over your shoulder. How long were they watching?

“Yeah, that’s really good,” another one says.

You shrink in your seat. “T-Thanks.”

The other pirates disperse now that the show's over, leaving you with Scopper. He studies the painting, then looks at you. “Have your parents seen your work before?”

“Yeah.”

“And they don’t approve?” Scopper sounds doubtful.

“Not really,” you smile ruefully, long since habituated to their criticisms.

“Then they’re either blind or ignorant,” Scopper says callously.

“Hey, now, easy. They’re still my parents,” you say, “even if we don’t agree on everything, I owe them, you know?”

Scopper levels his gaze at you. At least, you think he does. It’s hard to tell with the shades, but you feel his focus all the same. “No, you don’t. You don’t owe them anything.”

“Of course I do. They raised me,” you frown. “I get what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate your concern, Scopper. But you don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve put them through. I have to make up for…” You trail off, unable to say it out loud. There’s a twinge of pain in your chest at the thought. 

I have to make up for being me.

“You’re wrong,” Scopper asserts, “I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit. They’re your parents–looking after you is their job. That’s the bare fucking minimum, Y/n. No one asks to be born.”

You go quiet. His words seem obvious in hindsight, but you'd never really considered them that way before. Scopper becomes impassioned as he continues, balling up a fist.

“I just hate the idea that we’re locked into a role because of things beyond our control,” he says, "that we can't choose for ourselves."

"That’s the way the world works." You hate the words as soon as they come out of your mouth. That was something mom always said.

Even with his shades, you can tell Scopper is looking you in the eye. "It doesn’t have to be."

You look at Scopper the same way he looked at your painting, with amazement, as the words sink in. Then your face falls and you shake your head.  “There’s a reason for the way things are. We need order,” you say, but it comes out weak, not even convincing yourself.

“Is that what you think? Or what you’ve been told?” Scopper asks. “Who do you think benefits from the current structure? As it stands, the Celestial Dragons manipulate the World Government, the World Government manipulates the Marines, and the Marines manipulate the people. Like their lives are a board game. Are those the rules you want to play by? Are you satisfied with that?"

You don't have a response, his questions echoing in your head one after the other.  Were  you satisfied? Were you happy with the way things were? Not even in the grand scheme of things, but on an individual level? The discomfort that arose from the thoughts told you that you already knew the answer.

"I'd rather live in a world without shackles," Scopper says, tapping next to your painting, "a world where people are free to pursue what makes them happy."

"Are you happy?" you ask. It's more personal than you're normally comfortable asking, but suddenly you have to know. "Being a pirate?"

"I wouldn't trade it for anything." Scopper raises his chin proudly. "This crew, we’re going to sail to the end of the Grand Line. We're going to have an adventure unlike anything we can dream of. Because we want to. Because no one can tell us otherwise. That's the life I want to live."

Your eyes widen at the ambitious statement. Everyone knew that was impossible. Many explorers had undertaken the voyage, only to perish in the attempt. 

“You’ll die.”

“Then I'll die having a good time.”

He keeps stunning you into silence. You contemplate the idea–a journey worth dying for. But it wasn’t about the journey, was it? It was about desire. Fulfillment. There’s something very appealing about that. Dangerously so. 

You smile, mostly in disbelief at yourself. “I knew this crew was unusual. But now I see that you're crazy, too.”

“It’s not such a bad thing to be.”

You think about Roger, joining you in screaming at the ocean. You’ll never know why he did it, and you don’t have the nerve to ask. But regardless of his reason, the effect was the same: In that moment, you felt profoundly less alone.

“Maybe not,” you say thoughtfully, looking at your painting. You don’t have the skill, yet, to capture the feeling you had when witnessing that rising sun with Scopper and Roger and the rest of the crew. But you remember it all the same.

Scopper watches you, following your gaze to the painting. He’s quiet. Was he thinking about it, too?

“There are more canvases in the hold,” Scopper says after a minute. “I'll bring them out. You can keep those and the rest of the supplies in the crew quarters, to use whenever you want while you’re here.”

The rest of the evening is uneventful. You can’t stop thinking about your conversation with Scopper. Laying in your hammock that night, you look at all the sleeping forms hanging about the room. It wasn’t just Scopper who believed in those words. You’re certain that every one of these pirates feels the same way.

It resonates with you. It shouldn’t. What were you thinking, looking up to pirates? But you can’t help it. How could you hate the idea of following your dreams? To do what you want, no matter the consequences… What would that be like?

You close your eyes.

[Part 2]

[davenweenie]

Little Baby HC Post

Hey babes, sorry for the lack of Lab Rats HCs lately. I’ve had exams and shows coming up for Christmas time. I’ve been really busy so there won’t be much from me until my exams are over. My last show is next week so I’ll be busy until then. But for now, have a few HCs to quench your thirst of this surprisingly not dead fandom.

-Chase still likes to play guitar in his free time, Kaz finds him playing one day with the mute function on (he had his headphones plugged in) and asked if he could hear him play. Kaz was amazed.

-Kaz is a punk and his favourite band is the Ramones. Douglas was a punk in his youth (he still is, just more muted) and takes Kaz under his wing and takes him to punk gigs or tribute bands of both of their favourite bands.

-Bree loves scaring people by using her vocal manipulation, she’s also the master at prank calls now.

-Chase sometimes accidentally floats (I think we all forget he can levitate as part of one of his bionic abilities, ppl need to talk abt this more) and he never notices until someone points it out to him.

-Chase has complete heterochromia (two different eye colours) and you don’t really notice it until his bionic eye glows. It was the first thing Kaz noticed though, and he loves it. However he constantly fake cries about how his boyfriend’s eyes are ‘straight’ (get it, because HETEROchromia)

-I’m not sure if I’ve talked about this hc before but Leo is definitely queer. He calls himself queer because he hasn’t found a label that fits better than that. He likes any gender but used to have a preference for girls. He now doesn’t mind whatever gender he dates.

-Chase had a massive hyperfixation with baking at one point and everybody loves it. Kaz gained about ten pounds from the amount of cookies and cakes he had been eating.

-Kaz is little spoon. He loves feeling encased in love.

-BUFF KAZ SUPREMACY! That man became a non-toxic gym bro after joining the Elite Force and no I’m not accepting disagreement at this point in time.

-Oliver is one of the best at a good sneak attack. Nobody expects a really lean guy to be the one who has super strength. People think he might have super speed but no, he’s super strong. People expect Kaz to be the one that got super strength because he looks the most buff but no, it’s Oliver.

-I hc Skylar to be pretty buff too. I love the way Tabs(? Please tell me you know who I’m talking about. I have completely forgotten their username. They wrote Decimation and other Elite Force rewrites on AO3 and do a lot of Lab Rats art here) draws Skylar.

Anyway, that is all for today, folks. I hope you enjoyed this half-assed post. I’m sorry it’s a little rushed but I wanted to get something out there.

[aquariaries]

Kou Mukami 10 - Chaos Lineage

***I do not mind if you use my translations as a base for another language, I just ask that you credit both 46snowfox as the original translator and myself as the English translator if you do!***

Original translation credit: @46snowfox

https://46snowfox.tumblr.com/post/617475223016669184/01-02-03-04-05-06-07-08

You can find Kou's previous chapters in @tournesolia's masterlist linked down below!

https://tournesolia.tumblr.com/

————————————

Yui's Monologue:

Yuma-kun had lost consciousness.

In the midst of dismay, Kou-kun safely managed to join us.

Then, carrying Yuma-kun, we all headed through the forest.

By chance we managed to find an abandoned house where we could stay and rest.

It's only temporary, but we've found a place to relax, and we don't know when Ruki-kun and the others will start following us.

While carrying that anxiety, we waited for Yuma-kun to wake up.

————————————

PLACE: Abandoned House

Yuma: ... ... ... ...

Kou: Yuma-kun ... ...

Yuma: ... ... Ngh, nnnn ... ...

Yui: (... ... ! He opened his eyes!)

Yuma: Kou, Azusa ... ... and ... ...

... ... What's with you guys ... ... Staring at one's face ... ... and all while wearing depressing expressions ... ...

I mean, 'the even hell happened ... ... ?

Kou: Yuma-kun ... ... Do you know who we are?

Yuma: Huh? Of course I know ... ...

Azusa: So you won't say that we are Kou and Azusa from Violet, and also know about Eve ... ... ?

Yuma: Hah? Violet ... ... ?

Kou: Then that means you remember? You know that guy who took tomatoes from your garden and dissapeared?

Actually, the culprit of that was me. They were so delicious that I ate too much.

Yuma: Aah!? That was you!? You selfishly took the tomatoes that I worked so hard to grow ... ... tch ... ...

Yui: Y-Yuma-kun! You shouldn't get up so suddenly. However ...

(The fact that Kou ate his tomatoes is a story from when they were in the Mukami mansion.)

... ... You've really remembered everything.

Thank goodness ... ... !

Kou: Yuma-kun!!

Azusa: Yuma ... ... !

*They all hug Yuma*

Yuma: Woah?! You idiots, if you hug me so suddenly then–- Uwaa!

————————————

Yui's Monologue:

-- Yuma-kun has recovered his memories.

We were so overcome with emotion that we hugged him.

As we all jumped at the same time, we ended up falling out of the bed however, when we all looked at each other, we ended up laughing.

After that we simply explained what was happening to Yuma-kun, who was still unable to grasp the current situation.

————————————

Kou: Yuma-kun? What's wrong, you're making a gloomy expression.

Yuma: No ... ... It's just, how do I put it.

Even though I've lost my memories, the murderous thirst I had against you was real. One misstep and I would've really killed ya ... ...

Kou: If you're going to say that, then I'm no different. I did many cruel things to the person I love. Even now I regret it.

Yui: Kou-kun ... ...

Kou: But ... ... She forgave me. That's why I must reciprocate her feelings and move forward.

Of course, I will also forgive you Yuma-kun. We are brothers after all.

Azusa: It doesn't bother me either. I'm just glad you got your memories back Yuma.

Yuma: You guys ... ...

Yui: It's as they say Yuma-kun.

Yuma: Yeah ... ... Thank you.

I can't erase what I did in the past, but in return I'll make up for it.

Yui: Yeah! Having Yuma-kun with us is reassuring.

(Yuma-kun has finally returned! Now next we have to ... ...)

Yuma: The one who seems to be troublesome ... ... is Ruki.

Azusa: ... ... Yeah, it doesn't look like Ruki is going to give up on Eve ... ...

Yuma: Yeah, he'll probably chase her down to the ends of the Earth until she's caught.

Yui: As I thought, there is no escape huh ... ... ?

Kou: I think it would be difficult. Also, this place is closed off like a miniature garden. At some point we will run out of places to escape.

Yuma: You talked about that before earlier, didn't you? But is it really true these lands are surrounded by cliffs?

Yui: Yes. We couldn't see what was on the other side. I don't think it will be easy to escape from here.

In that case, we should look for places to hide ... ...

Yuma: As I said before, we can't go back to the mansion where I was. Seeing that I was with the enemy, they'll think I betrayed them.

Azusa: Same here ... ... We can't go back to where we were either. Carla-san will think that we're traitors and capture us ... ...

Yui: It's true ... ... We don't have anyone to trust anymore ... ...

From here on out, we won't be able to depend on anyone and we have to move forward with our own strength ... ...

Kou: Uuuuhm ... ... Their target is Eve. We can't run away from this place.

And to top it off we have no one to trust. But there are only so many places we can escape to ... ...

Aaah, jeez! I have no idea what we should do~!

Yuma: After all, the one who's good at thinking about these types of situations is Ruki.

Kou: Haah ... ... Seems like we were more dependent on Ruki-kun than I imagined.

Yui: Yeah ... ...

Azusa: If only Ruki's memories would return ... ...

Yuma: Do you think they'll be able to at this point?

Yui: Well ... ...

Yuma: ... ... Right?

Yui: (Just when we recovered Yuma-kun's memories we have returned to a dead end.)

(And the atmosphere now is not very good ... ...)

Selection:

————————————

-> Continue the discussion ♟

Yui: (But, we don't have time. We don't know when they could attack us.)

Shall we start again from the beginning? If we analyze the situation from scratch, we may come up with something ... ...

Azusa: But now I feel that no matter how hard we try, nothing will come to mind ... ...

Yuma: It's true. I'm tired from using my head so much after a long time.

Yui: (Of course ... ... We'd spent a long time walking in the forest, and Yuma-kun just recovered his memories.)

... ... You're right. Let's rest for today.

Kou: Yeah. Let's think again once we've calmed down.

————————————

-> Propose a break ♙♡

Yui: How about we leave the conversation here and rest for today?

I don't think it's good that we continue to push ourselves and we might come up with something while we rest.

Kou: Ah, I get it! You usually have good ideas when you're doing something else.

Azusa: Thats right. Besides, I'm still worried about Yuma's body ... ...

Yuma: I'm fine, no problems here.

But, I agree to rest. Let's keep thinking tomorrow.

————————————

*Time skip*

Kou: Hah ... ... I'm exhausted ... ...

Yui: A lot of complicated things happened today.

But ... ... is it really okay for me to use the back room when everyone is exhausted?

Kou: In these situations it's ladies first.

Besides, I'm here too, so it not like you'll be alone. Don't worry, don't worry.

Yui: But, it would be better for Yuma-kun to rest instead.

Kou: Yuma-kun is tough, so he'll be fine. Besides ... ... you haven't forgotten, have you? You are the one in the most danger.

Yui: ... ... !

Kou: I think we'll be fine for now, but we don't know when something might happen. Make sure you stay by my side whenever possible.

Yui: ... ... Yes, understood.

(This is not the time to let our guard down. Even if everyone has recovered their memories, we have no place to run or return to.)

(And we don't know when Ruki-kun and the others might show up ... ...)

Kou: ... ...

Yui: Kou-kun? What's wrong?

Kou: Ah ... ... Sorry. I was thinking about Ruki-kun.

Yui: Ruki-kun ... ... ?

Kou: I didn't say it before earlier because I didn't want anyone to feel anxious, but ... ...

I think that recovering Ruki-kun's memories will be more difficult than everyone thinks.

When Ruki-kun looked at me ... ... his gaze said that he really intended to kill me.

Yui: (Ah ... ...)

Kou: When he attacked our mansion, and even in the dungeon ... ... I didn't think Ruki-kun could have that kind of expression.

Yui: (I also saw Ruki-kun's cold gaze ... ... I can understand.)

(It was different from when I first met the Mukami family. They were eyes without a hint of mercy.)

Kou: I shuddered because I thought he really was going to kill me, but even more so I ... ... was shocked by it.

Yui: Kou-kun ... ...

(We can't become timid.)

(I can certainly understand Kou-kun's feelings of anxiety. But ... ... still–-)

Yui: ... ... You must not give up.

Kou: Eh ... ...?

Yui: The bonds between you are not so weak that they would collapse in the face of something like this, right?

I know that best, as I've observed everyone from up close.

Azusa-kun and Yuma-kun came back.

So ... ... It'll be okay. I'm sure Ruki-kun will also recover his memories.

And then, we will all go back home together!

Kou: Yui ... ...

... ... Yeah, thank you.

Definitely ... ... We'll all definitely return home.

Yui: Yes ... ... !

(Thank goodness, Kou-kun's expression has brightened again.)

Kou: Even so ... ... I keep showing you my most pathetic sides.

Truthfully, I would like to solve everything in one go and be cool in front of you.

Yui: Fufu, oh Kou-kun.

You're not pathetic, you're far from it. After all, I know many of your coolest aspects.

Kou: ... ... You really are good at cheering me up and pampering me.

But ... ... With just that, I won't be satisfied.

Kou: Nn ... ... *kisses*

Yui: (Ah ... ... On my lips ... ...)

Kou: ... ... This is a thank you.

Yui: Is it because it's give and take?

Kou: Nope. It's because I want to give you my feelings.

*He hugs her*

Yui: (Ah ... ... He is hugging me ... ...)

Kou: ... ... Fufu, you really like when I cling to you, Yui. I can feel how excited you are.

Yui: Yeah ... ...

Kou: Your face is red ... ... How cute. Nn ... ... *kisses*

Yui: ... ... Nn ... ...

(His kiss is so gentle ... ... I'm feeling dazed ... ...)

Kou: ... ... To be honest, I don't know what will happen next.

I think that many terrible things will happen until we manage to return home.

Even so ... ... I will definitely protect you.

Yui: Kou-kun ... ...

(Both me and Kou-kun ... ... No matter what happens from now on, we won't give up.)

(–- Until the day we can all return home.)

-END-

[pangolinheart]

Well since you’ve given me a chance to ramble about my boy, you got any little quirks or story things that you want to talk about for Rhiki? I saw some drk stuff, so maybe like how does she handle that whole plot?

Whooo boy I would LOVE to talk about the DRK quests. I apologize if this runs long i will try to contain myself. Behind the scenes, I actually started playing the DRK quests at a recommendation from a friend. Towards the end of HW I had maxed out my DRG levels (before the cap was raised to 90) and didn't want to waste msq exp. I had been telling a friend of mine all of my thoughts about the plot and my character, and in her infinite wisdom she said "Oooo you should unlock DRK I think you'd like it." And she was RIGHT.

I know that "canonically" the first set of DRK quests is set before the start of HW, but for Rhiki as a character I have them set in my head as taking place after HW-proper, proceeding and bleeding into the post-patches. The level 30-50 questline really tapped into a lot of things Rhiki had been feeling since the ARR post-patches. Around the time of Moenbryda's death, Rhiki started to get the feeling that her "friends" in the Scions didn't really know her at all. (Specifically, Minfilia has a line that goes something along the lines of "You're so strong. I can always lean on you for support" which, for the way i had imagined Rhiki as a character, was laughably inaccurate.) It felt to Rhiki like everyone, including the other Scions, looked at her and, rather than seeing her as she was, projected their vision of the perfect hero, the hero they needed onto her. It got her wondering: if she wasn't the Warrior of Light would they even like her at all? At the same time, being treated like the solution to all of Eorzea's problems put a lot of pressure on her. People treated her like a hero, but she didn't feel like a hero - she didn't see herself as any stronger, or smarter, or kinder than anybody else. She definitely didn't think she was qualified to weigh in on complex geopolitical issues like the refugee crisis in Ul'dah or international relations with Ishgard. But she didn't want to let people down (and she didn't want them to be disappointed in her) so she just kind of talked herself into a "Fake-It-til-you-Make-it" attitude. But, even though she never acknowledged it, t little bit of resentment started to creep in. Why does she have to be the one who's strong for everyone else's sake? Who is she supposed to lean on when everything goes wrong?

She kind of held it together until Haurchefant died. Haurchefant had been just about her favorite person for a while by that point, and the two of them were close (they were probably in love but neither of them ever said it in so many words). So his death absolutely gutted Rhiki. She let shock (and a shiny, brand new thirst for revenge) carry her through the the chase to Azys Lla and the final confrontation with the Archbishop, but after that, when the battle was already won and there was nothing left to do, she kind of fell apart. She really struggled with grief and regret, but also with anger. Rhiki had never really hated anyone before - she'd disliked people, been annoyed with people, but never truly hated them. But oh boy she hated Zephirin and the Archbishop enough to make up for all the years of hate she'd missed out on. And the hate and anger didn't go away once they were both dead - they lingered in her even aft there was no one left to be angry at. She had never thought she was capable of those kind of violent, ugly feelings, and it scared her.

That was the backdrop when she found Fray's body (in my head, she spent a lot of time holed up in her room, but would sometimes sneak out at night so she could get some fresh air without having to worry about running into anyone she knew, which was when she heard about the trial). At first, she was totally on-board with what "Fray" taught her - at least this way she could channel all of those terrible emotions into something good. But the more time they spent together, and the more disparaging "Fray" became of her desire to help others, the more she started to think that, hey, maybe this person might possibly be a little unhinged. But, everyone's got their stuff, and in-for-a-penny and all that, so she stuck with it. The confrontation at Whitebrim was REALLY good for Rhiki. Somehow, seeing herself as another person who was hurting, made it much easier to treat herself with the same kindness she would treat someone else. While the negative feelings didn't go away after reconciling with Esteem, she learned to recognize and accept them rather than trying to bury them inside herself.

When she first met Sid, she thought he was kind of a tool. (He was.) But he DID remind her of a certain other tall, dark tool-ish friend she had recently failed to protect from being possessed by a dragon, which endeared him to her a little and made her more willing to hear him out. Then she met Rielle and decided she couldn't not help. While trying to find a way to keep Rielle safe, Sid and Rhiki bickered A LOT, about things like the merits of mercy, but also about how he treated Rielle. She definitely tried to keep Rielle's spirits up and treat her with as much warmth and kindness as she could, though neither of them were really qualified to be in charge of a 12-year-old, so how much good it did is debatable. (Also, she was a little worried that Sid might start rubbing off on Rielle, so she kind of tried to temper his influence when she thought he couldn't hear them. "Listen, I know Sid says a lot of stuff about forgiveness being a weakness and the world being terrible, but you've gotta understand he's working through some personal issues and he's projecting.")

Their encounter with the moogles put into words something Rhiki had been thinking about but couldn't find a way to express: that the root of most pain and anger is love. Love for a person, love for a homeland, love for an ideal, love for the person you were or could have been. When something we love is taken from us that love has nowhere to go, and it twists and grows into sorrow and anger. But it's important to keep sight of the love at the center of all of those feelings, so as not to be consumed by them. Being able to hear that sentiment out loud was something Rhiki really benefitted from. (She did feel pretty bad about what happened with Rielle's mom, and got into a bit of a tiff with Sid about it. She knew it was probably what had to happen, and it was Rielle's choice to make, but... "Did you have to behead the woman right in front of her? What is WRONG with you?!You couldn't have waited for us to, like, turn around, or walk twenty feet away or something?!") Anyway this is already super long so I'll cut it off here and not go into the Stormblood quests (though I'm always happy to give my feelings on those too!) As a side note: if you haven't already, I highly recommend reading the Journal entries for the Stormblood DRK quests. They're good stuff. Anyway, thank you for the ask and, if by some miracle you made it to the bottom of this post, I'm sorry for how long it was!

[not-so-randomblog]

I thought I’d post a fanfic for Halloween 🎃

Critique is very welcome!

Basically Mikey and Leo get bitten a wolf mutant and start to act funny the fuller the moon gets.

“Get back here!” leo cried as he ran after the wolf mutant, who didn’t spare him a glance and continued running through the alleyway.

“Donnie! Raph! You guys stay down here while me and Mikey cut him off on the roofs!” leo ordered. The others nod before parting ways, Mikey and Leo making their way to the roof while Raph and Donnie keep chase on the ground.

They managed to trap him between the four of them despite his fast speed. He looked around contemplating where to go next, “give up, you're surrounded” Raph said, pulling out his sai’s.

The mutant growled, “I’m not going down without a fight!” he said before lunging after mikey, he dodged the attack only for the k9 step forward and sink his teeth into his arm.

“OW” mikey screamed, shoving the mutant off him. Beads of blood began to form on his arm.

Leo ran after the beast, swinging his katana in an attempt to get him to drop the stolen items.

The beast doged the attack and grabbed him by his hand before he could pull away. He slammed his teeth around Leo’s wrist as he screamed in pain.

“Leo!” The others yelled in panic.

The turtle kicked the k9 into some trash cans nearby, lunging the bag of stolen goods out of his hands. Raph swiped the bag out of the air, preventing anything inside from breaking.

The beast fumbled getting up from the trash cans as he wiped his head side to side looking for the goods.

“Looking for this?” Raph raised a brow as he held up the bag. The mutant growled before shoving himself out of the trash, “You haven’t seen the last of me!” he snarled before running deeper into the alleyway.

The turtles watched him flee into the night before someone spoke. “Hey Leo, is your wrist ok?” Donnie asked turning to his brother

“Yeah it's fine, just sore” he complained as he bent the injured wrist.

“I’ll have to clean you and Mikey’s wounds off when we get back to the lair” Donnie spoke.

“Alright, let’s head back”, Leo sighed.

——

“OW” “don’t be dramatic” Donnie complained as he wiped the antiseptic on Mikey’s bite mark. “You don’t have to be such a brute about it” Mikey wined as Donnie finished wrapping his bandage.

“Your turn, Leo,” Donnie signed as Mikey hopped off the table. The blue clad turtle quickly took his place, careful not to upset his aching wrist.

“Alright, now let me see your wrist,” Donnie said, holding his hand up. Leo rested his hand on the scientist. Donnie gently bent his wrist, looking for any signs of pain or irritation.

“It doesn’t seem sprained or anything” Donnie concluded, “just put some ice on it when it hurts” he suggested as he reopened the rubbing alcohol.

Leo walked out of the lab, scratching at his freshly bandaged wrist. “Why is this thing so itchy?,” He asked himself.

——

The boys were acting weird, and not just because Mikey keeps asking for the pepperoni of everybody’s pizza or Leo scarfing down his food faster than usual, and everybody else’s for that matter.

But REALLY weird stuff.

Raph rolled out of bed with a feeling of thirst in his mouth. He yawned as he walked into the kitchen, still groggy and wiping some of the tiredness from his eyes.

His eyes snapped open as he realized the noise he was approaching. Raph crouched, as he slowly approached the noise, he peered around the counter before he recognized the figure.

“MIKEY” the turtle flung his head out of the trash and scrambled to his feet, “WHAT, WHAT” Mikey said as if preparing for danger. “Why are you digging through the trash” raph asked, raising a brow.

“Uh, getting a midnight snack?” He said, smiling nervously.

“From the trash?” Raph said sarcastically, “yes?” Mikey said with an unsure look.

Raph let out a defeated sigh before walking to the cupboard on the wall, “Go back to bed, Mikey”, he advised.

“But I can’t sleep” Mikey complained, “then try again,” he persisted.

The younger turtle huffed before turning around and walking out of the kitchen. Raph rested his mug on the counter, wondering what he could have possibly been eating. And from the trash can of all things. Raph turned on the faucet to collect the water in the mug he picked out allowing his curiosity to get the best of him.

He rested his full cup on the counter before approaching the trash can. When he peered inside he found-

Bones.

They were bones, broken and jagged like they had been chewed on. Some weren’t even cooked and still had large portions missing from them.

Raph looked into the trash can with confusion, and mild disgust.

——

Leo didn’t have as big of a change in eating habits, but he wasn’t quite acting himself.

Like how he slept through the day, even missing training, and only waking up when the sky was dark and inky.

“Leo!?” Donnie said banging on the mutants door, “come on, you said you wanted to train bright and early yesterday remember?” He asked rhetorically. “Leo-” the mutant cut himself off in frustration before pulling the door open.

“What could you possibly be doing-” his words died on his tongue as he realized the terrapin was dead asleep on his bed.

“Leo? Leeeo? LEO?” the turtle yelled. The sleeping turtle simply laid, taking deep slow breathing, still unaware of the sibling in his room.

Donnie, starting to get concerned, leaned down and shook Leo, increasing the intensity the longer he slept.

“Leo!” He tried to call him out of his sleep one last time. Donnie moved his hand from Leo’s shoulders to grab his wrist.

He placed both fingers on the side of his wrist, a normal pulse for someone sleeping, he thought, removing his hand.

Donnie walked out of his room and gently slid the door shut as Raph approached the room.

“Is he up?” He asked, “No, I can’t wake him up for anything” Donnie said raising his brow. “Is he ok? Leo never sleeps this long” raph observed.

“Yeah, he doesn’t, but he seemed fine beside the whole sleeping thing. I mean, he did have a regular pulse and everything” he concluded.

Raph looked behind Donnie and at Leo’s door before continuing, “we should keep an eye on him. Him and Mikey are acting funny”

The boys walked back downstairs, and back to the couch, finally noticing a sleeping Mikey curled up on the couch.

“Yeah, we should keep an eye on them,” Donnie agreed, giving a concerned glance to his brother.

——

It was about a week after Mikey and Leo had been bitten. The bandages came off and their wounds healed nicely, likely to fade in afew months.

The boys were acting, more normal than they had within the past few days. Mikey and Leo both woke up at their usual times and are acting themselves, except for some out of place hostility. But besides that they were acting relatively normal.

Until the full moon began to rise.

It was hard to tell when it was night or day in the sewer, but the turtles could somehow always tell after all these years.

“You guys ready to go on portal?” Donnie asked as he adjusted his Bo staff in its holster.

“I don’t know if I can go tonight guys, I’m feeling really weird” Leo said with a weary expression on his face.

“Yeah me too” mikey complained,

“Oh come on, are you two really not gonna go on patrol just because you feel a little funky?” Raph challenged

“Usually I would but this feels, different” Leo supplied.

Raph sighed in defeat, “I guess it’s just me and you Donnie” he said turning to the terrapin.

“Let me go get my sai’s and we can go” raph said before going to his room.

Raph adjusted his sai’s in their holsters as he walked downstairs. As he glided the second one in its case, he heard a pained groan from the living area.

He snapped his head up and ran down, “what’s going on?” He demanded, “I don’t know” Donnie said nervously.

Leo screamed in pain as he withered on the floor, he dug his fingers into the cement as they stretched with claws sprouting from his fingertips.

There was a sickening cracking echoing through the lair as his limbs grew unnaturally fast.

The same was happening to Mikey, his snout stretched in an unnatural way. Sharp, pointed ears began to emerge from the top of his head, accompanied with strands of golden brown fur erupting from his skin.

The sound of knee and arm pads could be heard snapping and dropping to the floor as well as bandages stretching and tearing to make way for the new growth and claws.

When they stopped struggling there was a quiet, excluding the panting coming from the newly transformed turtle’s.

“…are you guys alright?” Donnie asked, as he backed away from the werewolfs.

The werewolf’s snapped the heads at the terrapin before lunging themselves at him.

Raph pulled him out of the way, narrowly avoiding the two sets of jaws, as the wolves collided with the floor. They push themselves off the floor, claws grating against the cement as they sprint after their fleeing brothers.

In seconds they were hot on their heels, growling as they attempted to nip at their legs. Donnie jumped in alarm, “Raph quick, we need to get the garage!” he said in a panic

Raph nodded as they picked up the pace, creating some space between them. The turtles sprinted under the garage door, before leaping up and slamming it shut.

Angry snarls could be heard from the other side of the door. The mutants sighed in relief as they stepped away from the door. The feeling was short lived, as two sets of paws began slamming on the thin metal.

“Uh, Donnie, that's gonna hold right?” Raph asked skeptically.

“I sure hope so,” Donnie said, “what happened to them!? All week they’ve been acting strange and now they’ve turned into these things!” Raph says gesturing creatures slamming on the other side of the door.

“I don’t know” he confessed “But it has to be something from the past few days. That’s when they started acting up”

What had happened within the last week? They thought, they had gone on patrol, stopped some crime, and had pizza. All the regular things, so what could have happened between the past few days and now to cause this-

“The wolf!” Donnie exclaimed, “What?” Raph questioned, “While we were on patrol the other night Leo and Mikey got bit by that wolf mutant before he ran away! That must be the reason they turned into these things!” He concluded.

“So that guy turned them into werewolves?” Raph asked

“I guess he did,” Donnie said, realizing the full weight of his words. “So how are we gonna undo this?” Raph asked

“If I can get a sample from one of them, I could probably undo the whole transformation!” Donnie exclaimed.

“And what are we supposed to get as a sample?” Raph questioned, raising a brow.

The taller mutant grimaced, “we’re gonna need some spit”.

————

It was quiet, too quiet, for the amount of noise the wolves were making banging on the garage door.

Donnie carefully pulled up the garage door, just enough to peer underneath it. There was no sign of their transformed siblings from what he could see.

“I think they’re gone, raph” Donnie said pulling the rest of the door up.

They stepped out of the garage quietly, looking all about the lair for any odd looking terrapins. They explore the other parts of the lair, searching for their turned brothers.

“Do you see them?” Donnie whispered, “No, it’s like they disappeared or something” Raph compared.

They find their way to the kitchen finally finding a trace of the lost brothers.

The fridge had been raided, the door was wide open with lukewarm air drifting out of it. There were scraps of food spread across the whole kitchen. The drawers had been pulled out of their sockets, one even laid on the floor. The only thing in the kitchen remotely untouched were the uncooked vegetables spread across the floor.

“Looks like they got in the fridge” Raph observed, “yeah no shit” Donnie commented, gaining an unimpressed glance from the red masked turtle.

“But where are they?” Donnie asked suspiciously.

“I don’t know, they're probably upstairs if they're not down here,” Raph said.

“Then let’s go check upstairs,” Donnie prompted.

“Hold on a second, we should probably have something that’ll get them to leave us alone without them getting hurt when we find them. Don’t werewolves have a weakness or something?” Raph asked.

“Yeah I think they do actually, but I can’t remember what” Donnie commented, placing a hand under his snout.

“Mikey likes this kind of stuff, he’d probably know what it is” Raph mentioned.

“Yeah but he can’t tell us right now..wait we can look through his comic books! There’s bound to be an answer in one of them!” The terrapin exclaimed.

The turtles creeped upstairs, their eyes darted left to right looking for any movement among the shadows.

They tiptoed to Mikey’s room, keeping their eyes open for anything. Donnie pulled open the door, practically holding his breath in anticipation.

He made a sigh of relief as he peered into the room, no werewolves.

Just a messy room, he thought, as he stepped over an empty pizza box. “Now where would Mikey put his comics?” Donnie asked himself.

They had practically torn the room upside down looking for that comic book. There were various comics spread around the room, in drawers, in small piles on the floor and on his bed, and probably some other places.

“Where is it?!” Donnie complained, “we’ve looked through this whole room and we still can’t find it!”

“It’s gotta be in here somewhere” Raph observed.

“But where?” Donnie asked, shuffling through Mikey’s night stand drawer again.

Raph stood by the bed going through the pile of comics resting near Mikey’s pillow for the third time. He glanced down at the bed and continued his search, before realizing what caught his eye.

He snatched the sheet off the bed, finding a comic book face down, laying on its pages. And right on the cover was a silloet of a werewolf howling at a full moon.

“I found it!” Raph said holding the flimsy book in the air, “this has to be it”

Donnie’s eyes widened before crossing the room, “do you see anything?” Donnie asked as Raph flipped through the pages.

“Not yet- wait, this is it!” Raph exclaimed, “it says, silver is a werewolf’s weakness, but too much could kill them so we’ll have to be careful. But where are we gonna find silver?” Raph questioned

“Silver”, the word danced on Donnie’s tongue, “I might have some silver in my lab, I use it in some of my experiments” he explained. “But it’s not a lot, I’m not sure how effective it’ll be,” he edmited.

“It’s better than nothing,” raph said.

——

They snuck in the lab, quickly finding the silver and going back upstairs to check the rest of the rooms for their furry siblings.

None of the bedroom doors were opened, and there were no signs of the creatures of the night. Even so, the turtle's hearts were beating out of their chest as they opened up each door.

There was a feeling of simultaneous relief, and growing fear with each door checked. If the werewolves weren’t in the first three rooms, they’d be in the last.

The two mutants looked at each other, both having their silver ready in their hands. Raph breathed in before grasping the door handle and yanking it open.

They stood ready for an attack from the k9’s, only to be let down by an empty room.

The turtles gaped at the well kept room, it was like Leo and Mikey hadn’t been in their at all.

They stepped inside, carefully walking around the room as they searched for the mutants. They searched to no avail as they stepped out of the room, knowing less then they had going in.

They weren’t there, they were at the end of the hallway, each door in the entire lair had been checked for the werewolf turtles. And there was barely a trace of them.

“They’re GONE???” Donnie announced, pulling at his mask tails.

“Where could they have possibly gone if they aren’t in the lair??” Raph panicked “they're probably just somewhere in the sewers right?” Raph questioned.

“We’ll have to see. Come on!” Donnie called as he ran out of the lair.

——

Donnie and Raph had searched over half the sewer tunnels, still no sign of their werewolf siblings.

“We’ve searched over half the sewers and still no sign of them,” Raph said as he spashed through the sewer tunnels.

“They have to be around here somewhere, I don’t know where else they would be” Donnie said with slight worry.

As they walked past a sewer cover, Raph realized something was off. He backtracked to the ladder, listening to the unmuffled sound of cars whooshing by.

“Donnie! Come check this out” he called.

They approached the ladder, listening to the increasing volume of night life.

They finally stepped under the gaping man hole cover, being greeted by the deep dark sky and the light of a full moon casting its light on a apartment.

“..They have to be around here somewhere, huh” Raph said sarcastically, as he met Donnie’s eyes.

——-

They stood on a rooftop, arguing over where they would find their lost brothers.

“How are we gonna find them? They could be anywhere!” Raph yelled

“I’m sure we’ll find them, they're probably somewhere familiar, right? Let’s go on our usual patrol route and see if we find them” Donnie suggested.

As they ran farther from the lair, they notice a noise as they hopped from one roof to another.

“What is that?” Raph asked as he tried to pinpoint the noise.

“It sounds like, howling? Donnie said, as his eyes followed the source.

His eyes lead to a rather large k9, howling at the bright round moon. “That’s one of them!” Donnie called before chasing after the wolf.

Leo sat atop a large hotel, its logo shining brightly in red over the city street.

As the turtles crept onto the roof, the werewolf restarted his howl, unsuspecting of the figures approaching him.

Another howl ripped through the night, as Donnie reached into his side pouch, pulling out a loaded dart gun.

He straightened his arm and pointed it at one of the only non protected areas on him. Donnie pointed the nozzle at his shoulder before pulling the trigger.

Leo’s howl was broken by a yalp, as he turned around growling at the same siblings he couldn’t recognize.

He bared his fangs and hunched his back, puffing up his jet black fur, making him seem even larger than he did in his new form.

“Leo, calm down” Donnie soothed as the k9 approached, his voice only seeming to piss the creature off more.

The mutants stepped back as snarls rippled through the wolf.

Donnie pulled out his silver coin, praying it would deter his sibling as he pointed it at the beast.

Leo whined, finally beginning to wobble as turned to escape.

“Leo, wait!” Donnie screamed as he leapt onto the lower roof, landing clumsily as his limbs nearly gave under his weight.

He wobbled across the roof as the others gave chase, finally flopping onto the ground and shutting his eyes with a whine.

The turtles sighed in relief, finally knowing one of their brothers was safe and out of harm's way.

“Alright, now let’s get him back to the lair” Donnie announced.

He gently nudged the k9 before he grabbed his front paws, “woah, he’s heavy” Donnie said as he attempted to pull the k9 over his shoulders.

“He can’t be that heavy” Raph argued as he lifted up his other end.

“Woah he really is heavy” he admitted as the two pulled their brother off the ground.

“Yeah, how does one turtle gain that much weight in that little time?” Donnie wondered.

——

Once they got back to the lair, they rested Leo on the slightly torn up couch before continuing the hunt for their lost brother.

“Are you sure we can keep him there all by himself?” Raph asked.

“Yeah, those darts would keep a regular person out for 5 hours minimum, so he should be fine” Donnie concluded.

——

The search was starting to get tiring, they were almost finished with the patrol route and still no sign of Mikey.

“What if we don’t find him tonight?” Donnie asked with worry.

“We’ll find him, we just have to keep looking” raph supplied as he jumped onto the next roof.

Donnie suddenly halted his movements, causing the same reaction to the other turtle.

“What is it?” Raph asked as Donnie approached the alleyway behind them.

“What is that?” He asked, as he pointed to the wiggling lid of the dumpster beneath them.

They hopped down to the alleyway, approaching the lively dumpster with caution. Donnie pulled out the familiar dart gun, getting ready to use it at a moment’s notice.

The garbage lid finally swung open, revealing a turtle werewolf munching on the disregard remains of a pizza.

They froze, not wanting to provoke the werewolf into running off or attacking.

Donnie slowly raised his arms, dart gun pointed directly at the k9 oblivious to the imminent threat.

As the werewolf enjoyed his crust he finally looked up enough to notice his siblings, and the barral of the dart gun pointed right at him. His eyes widened, and his ears laid flat on his head in surprise as Donnie took the shot.

A yalp echoed through the mutant as the sedatives kicked in. He slumped further into the dumpster, finally cooperative enough to be carried back to the lair.

——

“We finally got both of them” Donnie sighed as he rested his baby brother on the couch.

“Took us long enough” raph added. “Now you can finally work on that cure,” raph reminded him.

“Right! I just need to get something from my lab” Donnie said before retrieving the objects.

He came back with two clear plastic baggies and two long cotton swabs for the saliva samples.

First he went up to Leo, grabbing his long snout and gently pulling his mouth apart to make way for the swab.

He did the same with Mikey before returning to his lab.

——

He spent hours in that lab, but he finally had a way to reverse their transformation. He filed the two syringes with the elixir, and walked out of the lab.

“It’s finally done,” Donnie announced, exhausted but glad.

“I sure hope it works” Raph said as Donnie approached the werewolves and guided the needles into his fuzzy arms.

“Now we wait,” Donnie yawned, before crashing onto the couch.

Afew hours later he awoke to the sound of familiar yawn.

“Ugh, what happened?” Leo groaned as he broke out of his daze. “You and Mikey turned into werewolves and me and Donnie had to chase you around the city to make a cure” Raph supplied simply.

Leo stared at the turtle, as his still foggy mind tried to comprehend what was just said.

“Well what did we do?” He asked

“Well you were howling at the moon, and Mikey was eating out of a dumpster at this pizza joint” Donnie replied.

“I should have done that sooner”

The sets of eyes shot to the once again freckled turtle, still fatigued from the dart gun.

The others merely laughed at the antic, before falling back into their exhausted slumbers.

[yns-world]

Do you think yandere! Elliot has any kinks?

Yandere Elliot Alderson Kinks

YES HE HAS KINKS TRUST ME I'VE SEEN THEM 🤭

gender neutral, poc friendly, size not mentioned

TW: somnophilia

First on the list: voyeurism. No question about it. All he does is watch. Observe. Listen. It's not his fault that he caught you during your private moments. 

Elliot would have fantasies here and there about you being the one that watches him, but it's only for a fleeting moment.

Next on the list, praise kink-- giving and receiving. He needs all the praise in the world. Poor boy has been pushed around and neglected for his whole life, all he wants is to be enough in someone’s eyes. This also leads to the next kink--

Body worship, as part of the praise kink and as its own thing by itself. Elliot worships you like you created this entire universe in a blink of an eye. He quite literally kisses the ground you walk on, he whispers your name like a prayer. He just wants his god to give him the validation he so desperately thirsts for.

But some days, it’s not validation Elliot craves. Some days, Elliot wishes to be treated like the absolute shit that he thinks he is. I’m talking stepping on his throat, spanking, tying him up in ropes, gags, the works.

Yandere Elliot would also have somnophilia. It all dates back to the first time he broke into your house. 

This was a few months after Elliot laid eyes on you and has been watching you since. He doesn’t remember how or why, but he just had the clawing need to be close to you as you slept. That’s what pushed him to crack open your window and be able to smell your perfume up close. That’s what really drove him over the edge. 

He couldn’t stop himself, he just had to have you. He was finished within a couple strokes-- pathetic, he knows-- but he was too excited. He made sure to pull out into his hand just before he came and he cleaned up the mess. The next morning, you felt….off…but you just shook them off as the Monday blues.

Another thing that yandere Elliot would be into is roleplay-- stalking roleplay (ironic), serial killer chasing his prey, robber (breaking and entering, plus some somnophilia involved 😏)

All in all, he's a freak <3 he's MY freak 🫶🫶🫶

a/n: don't be a ghost reader! comment and interact with me, i promise i won't bite <333

this was so much fun to write! this is what i mean when i write suggestive content so thank you for this request <3

as always, check my pinned post for request rules!

i hope y'all have a great day! i'll see y'all in the next post ;)

[touyasdoll]

MHA Father’s Day Thirsts

In honor of Father’s Day, here are some spicy drabbles of various “daddy” related scenarios✨

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, daddy kink, breeding, general BDSM, impact play, choking, degradation

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugou, Eijiro Kirishima, Shouta Aizawa, Dabi/Touya Todoroki x reader

A/n: A little late on this, meant to post it yesterday, but is it ever too late to thirst??

——————————

Katsuki Bakugo

Trying for a baby

“You’re taking my cock like such a good little slut, ya know that?” Katsuki’s long fingers wrapped your throat, squeezing the sides just hard enough to make your pussy throb around him. “Shit, baby, you feel so fucking good.”

His eyes fluttered closed and he slowed his pace to a near halt, leaning down to kiss you as he rolled his hips against yours in a rare moment of tenderness.

“I love you so much, you know that, right?” His eyes searched your momentarily, the pads of his calloused fingers brushing along your jaw.

“I know,” you reassured him, still breathless from his previous assault on your body, basking in the pleasure still coursing through you and the sudden change in the atmosphere. “I love you too, Katsu.”

“I can't wait to knock you up,” he murmured against your skin as he trailed kisses between the valley of your breasts, all the way down to your belly as he cocked his hips back, leaving just the tip inside of you. “You’re gonna look so beautiful, baby.”

"Ahh--fuck, Katsu," you couldn't help but to blush as you arched your back, shifting your hips forward to sink him back into your velvety walls, clenching around him as you whined in need.

"Eager as ever, aren't you?" The smile that pressed against your stomach morphed into a smirk as he kissed you there once more, before snapping his hips down into yours, pounding against your cervix at an angle that had you seeing stars.

Eijiro Kirishima

Telling him to cum inside for the first time

He was seated on the edge of the couch with you bouncing effortlessly on his cock, gripping onto his shoulders for support as you neared your release. His hands guided your hips, pistoning you up and down as you straddled his lap.

"Eiji, I'm so fucking close..!" you threw your head back as you felt the tight coil deep within your belly threaten to snap.

"I got you, baby, let go. Cum all over my fucking cock." His grip tightened on your hips, littering your breasts with kisses as his thumb rubbed tight circles over your clit.

You were thrust over the edge, crying out as your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders. He groaned, still guiding your hips as he thrusted forward to meet them eagerly, muttering praises in your ear as he chased his own high.

“Fuck, baby, you look so pretty right now. Always such a good girl, coming all over my fat fucking cock,” his hand wound into your hair, gently tugging it backwards to kiss you, carefully biting your bottom lip with his sharp teeth as you continued to sputter out moan after moan. “Where do you want me to cum, baby?”

“Inside me,” you locked eyes with him, interlocking your fingers behind his neck as you ground your hips against his more quickly. “I want you to fucking cum inside me, Eiji. Please..”

“Wh-what? Ahh, fuck,” his eyes grew wider before his head lolled back allowing you to kiss and suck at the sensitive spot beside his Adam’s apple. “A-are you sure, baby?”

Your fingers knitted into his hair, pulling just enough to affix his gaze with yours as you neared your second orgasm, desperately bucking your hips atop of his.

“Yes, oh God, yes. I want you to fill my tight little cunt up with your cum. Can you do that for me, Eiji?” The words escaped your lips as a mewl, your voice becoming softer and needier as you neared your release all over again. “Want you to stuff my pussy full, pretty please, Eiji..”

“Oh fuck yes I can,” his hands gripped your ass cheeks, squeezing firmly as he continued to match your relentless pace. “Ahh—oh, shit, baby I’m gonna cum so fucking har—FUCK.”

You could feel his chest tighten, hardening slightly as his quirk activated involuntarily. His eyes were blown as his head snapped upwards, a feral growl erupting from his chest as his rhythm became sloppy. You could feel his warm essence filling you up, spreading so easily all over his impossibly hard cock as you fucked him through his release until you found your own again.

Shouta Aizawa

Trying for a baby

“C’mere, love.” Shouta smiled softly upon seeing you in the doorway of his office, patting his lap as he leaned back in his desk chair. “I’m just about done here, I promise.”

“What all do you have left to do?” You returned his expression and strolled towards him, draping your arms around his neck as you perched yourself on his knee.

“Well, it’s actually something I need your help with,” one arm snaked around your waist, his hand resting on your hip. The other brought a hand up to your face, his index finger tucking just beneath your chin as his thumb rested atop it. “So I’m glad you’re here.”

“Oh?” You glanced down shyly, flicking your eyes back to his lips, watching them curl into a smile as he pressed a gentle kiss to yours.

A sigh left your nose as you rested a hand on his chest, leaning into him. He dropped his hand from your face, hooking his fingers behind the crook of your knee as he guided your legs to part, helping you shift your weight to straddle his lap. His lips attached to your neck, drawing a generous moan from you immediately as your eyes settled on the door to the right of you.

“Sho, the door isn’t locked. Someone could see..” your eyes fluttered closed again as his hands roamed over your ass, pressing you down firmly against his growing erection. A low grunt left his lips, before he spoke again, his voice gruff and thick with lust.

“See me fucking my wife?” He stood, his hands effortlessly lifting you onto the desk, where he gently laid you down as he leaned over you, whispering into your ear. “Let ‘em see then. We have important business to tend to tonight.”

Another moan was pulled from your chest as his hands skimmed beneath your short dress, pushing it up above your breasts as he kissed his way down your torso, over your hips, tugging your panties off as he neared your most sensitive area, only stopping when his tongue grazed your entrance.

“You ready, baby?” He placed a gentle kiss to the sensitive, innermost part of your thigh as he locked eyes with you.

Your fingers tangled into his hair as you nodded, your hips shifting in anticipation until he sank his tongue between your folds, causing you to cry out at once from the intense pleasure that he was already providing. His skilled tongue lapped up your juices, occasionally connecting with your clit, dragging it in slow circles as he reveled in the way you looked right now, squirming helplessly beneath him.

“I’m gonna cum right here tonight, baby,” he darted his long tongue straight into your center a few times, licking a stripe up to your clit before he took the bundle of nerves into his mouth. “Are you ready for that? Ready for me to make you a mommy?”

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Breeding/Daddy kink

“Say it again. You’re not too fucked out to talk yet, are ya, babydoll?” Dabi’s voice had an edge of cruelty to it, that familiar mocking tone that made your walls clench around him without fail. His eyes nearly closed, falling half-lidded as he stared down at your already shaking form, your elbows wobbling as you tried to hold your submissive position in front of him while his cock slid in and out of you, his balls slapping against your already battered clit. “Shit—you really do love being treated like the filthy fucking whore that you aren’t, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” was all that you were able to breathe out. It was more than enough for him.

“Oh good, your mouth still works. I’m glad, because I’m not done with that yet either,” his hands left his brutal hold on your hips, one capturing you around the neck and the other palming your breast as he pulled your back flush against his chest. “But first, I need to empty my balls into this sopping wet cunt of yours. Show you the only fucking thing you’re good for.”

Your eyes rolled back as his fingers expertly rolled your nipple while the pattern of his hips became unpredictable, a sure sign of his impending orgasm.

“S’oh yesss, breed me, daddy, give me all of your fucking cum,” your hand reached back behind his head as you angled your face toward his, speaking as your lips pressed against his.

His eyes locked with yours and you couldn tell he was just as far gone as your were, positively high on how good you both felt. It was truly intoxicating, seeing how desperate he was to have you like this. You always liked letting him do as he pleased, degrading you to filth while he ravaged you, but seeing that unmistakeable look of need on his face as he held your gaze now, you understood for the first time how good it felt to holds the reins.

“Have I been a good girl, daddy? I wanna feel your cum inside my tight little pussy so bad,” you almost whined between the sweet kisses you placed on his lips. “Please, let me milk that big, fat fucking cock of yours. Want you to fuck it deeper while I cum all over.”

He wanted nothing more than to keep his eyes on you, but he couldn’t hold on any longer and the sheer force of his orgasm made him snap his eyes shut as ribbons of white flooded into you. A cry left your lungs as your walls became even more slick with the mixture, allowing his thrusts to hit you more easily, more deeply. He silenced you with a forceful kiss, holding your jaw in place with his large hand, the cool sensation of the staples juxtaposing the heat between you. A few more thrusts was all it took for you to come undone yet again that evening, your body spasming, clinging to him like he was your only anchor to reality.

“That’s it, baby, you’ve been such a good girl for daddy tonight,” his hand still held your face, his eyes boring into yours as he swallowed the moans you offered him. His head was clear while yours still swam, dizzying you in your euphoria. “Wanna see you feel as good as you make me feel, princess.”

The kisses between you turned softer and he continued grinding his hips into yours, letting you ride out your final high, making sure to lean in and press his lips to your ear while you were still out of your right mind.

“Daddy loves you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”

[misticloyal]

Silly Little HeadCannons

Post Season 2 right, everyone’s one da big flying ship to try and figure out wtf they’re gonna do about the bone demon trying to take over the world.

Everyone’s tired and unmotivated, fights were breaking out and so in an effort to lighten up the mood Mei is trying to teach everyone modern media culture.

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Obviously this goes extremly well considering her target audience is:

1 hyperactive kid

1 fire demon from the pits of the netherworld

2 immortal monkey (I’m including Macaque because I can)

1 nerd

1 pig cook man

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SO first things first, Mei starts off with some simple stuff first, the whip and nae nae, some simple vine references, funny twitch emotes (PogChamp, KEKW, sadpeepo) etc. MK probably knows most of this already but he’s not as involved w/ media as Mei is anyway so this is just like- a refresher for him.

Shit starts to go down when they get to the tik Tok dances though

-The finger dances people do broke Pigsy’s mind the moment they added more then like 2 steps so he dipped and because Tang is a simp he went with him LOL

-Macaque and Wu Kong were actually doing well...Like really well. They were doing so well they got competitive and started a dance off. Red Son, MK, and Mei just kinda watched and started a mini-betting pool for who would win. Mei also vlogged it and tagged it as #enemies-to-lovers-amirght-chat to which made MK wheeze when he looked over her shoulder

-They tried Tik Tok filters and Snapchat filters on the monkeys to see if it would recognize their faces and it was interesting until MK got a hold of the iPhone emoji filter, all hell broke lose after that

-Mei tried teaching everyone how to throw it back and MK tried so hard he kneed himself in the face which cause Red Son to loose it. Man by the time Wu Kong was done looking him over for a nose bleed Mei and Red Son were fucking dying on the ground laughing. (Fun fact this happened irl to me and I still never live it down to my friends LMAo)

-Macaque was taught how to make thirst traps. I have no more to say on the matter that's it, he learned how to make them and was like “Alright cool, good, awesome even. I’m totally not going to do this in my spare time”

-Wu Kong for the whole experience wasn’t rlly into it as long as no one was getting hurt but there was ONE filter that Mei insisted he try out. It was ‘what is your red flag’ and he got ‘Thinking you don’t have a red flag’ 

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-Obviously the immortals and the demon weren’t really as familiar with modern music since yes they were exposed to modern culture but they didn’t really participate in it to the extreme. Like the most Red Son knows about music that isn’t Cultural Chinese is EDM because of MK and both Macaque and Wu Kong probably only know what they hear out on the streets just passing by.

So once they find out what modern genres MK and Mei and being held at gunpoint man. 

Macaque will not stop blasting classical goth/ goth rock around the ship, Wu Kong comes after him with his own speaker chasing him around with Phonk and Pop playing full volume (which side note, makes MK feel more connected to him as a dad figure cuz it’s like ‘awww I listen to EDM and he listens to Phonk they’re kinda similar what a father/son moment ✨).

Red Son was given his own pair of headphones for the first time in his life and every week when everyone gets together to share their favorite song (it was a bonding activity enforced by MK and Mei ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) he’d be like ‘Oh yeah, I saw this song and thought it was pretty neat’ and then play literal screamo and Thrash Metal. He also thinks Chinese Death/Black Metal is cool too, but it has to be the type with lots of yelling not just instruments.

MK quickly made sure that just bc Red Son listens to Metal and Macaque is into goth music that they don’t become friends (cuz like- he gives Macaque the benefit of the doubt but he still doesn’t trust him so stay away from his mans ig LmaO) but when the conversation ended up happening between the three of them, MK just got an earful from Red Son and Macaque about how alt music isn’t the same and 

“JUST BECAUSE WE LISTEN TO THE SAME OVERALL UMBRELLA OF MUSIC DOESN’T MEAN WE LIKE EACH OTHER NOODLE BOY!”

“Yeah kid, you think I would be friends with someone who listens to metal? Sheesh-”

“WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN B-”

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-When Mei handed Wu Kong the phone to pick a trend to learn as a group he accidentally clicked a cupcakke remix...

There were so many, and they all were so bad;;

Red Son immediately blew up in flames once hearing the lyrics of WAP on autotune being blasted

MK wheezed so hard he thinks he blew a lung

Macaque gazed sadly over the border of the ship and tried to calculate how much it would hurt if he jumped

Mei was trying to get the phone back by jumping Wu Kong

Wu Kong was scarred for life

Tang was documenting everything in his journal

Pigsy dipped for a second time