#either he's hiding something or he isn't but the hat has been doing something to his hair for a while

[turoce]

this is such a stupid headcanon i dont know why i decided to spend my time on it

[miguel-owhora]

dragon!price who's an alpha—a lonely alpha. he's been alone for quite some time now, his nest barren and empty, no mate to sing dragonic songs back to him miles away, no mate to rekindle the embers in his heart.

his hoard—sorry, the 141—help him fill these empty spots. soap's rambunctious attitude and gaz's encouragement and ghost's dryly amused comments fill in the lonely parts, bringing him down from the soaring heavens and back to the ground, where price hears the thumping of the earth's core if he falls back into his dragonic instincts deep enough.

dragons are rare to come nowadays. most spend their lives in secrecy, in some rural land most would struggle to pronounce the names of, spent hiding in either solitude or with their mates—and in certain cases, families.

so imagine price's surprise when laswell drops in a new member into his little hoard. she says it's temporary, but there's a glimmer on her eyes when she says it, one that makes sense when price sees you—another dragon.

an omega, price's alpha brain tells him, awakening with glee at another dragon hybrid, at someone who could complete him. a potential mate.

price's alpha instincts are purring when he introduces himself, and he must look like a fool, when he hears his boys sniggering in the background. something lights up something in his chest, instincts roaring to life, when you smile at him and shake his hand. your hand makes his burn, hotter than anything else, hotter than the fire he hatched out of.

it comes to no surprise to him when you're even more reserved than ghost. dragon hybrids are already secretive as they are; omega dragon hybrids are worse. but eventually, price worms his way past the walls you've put up and the fun part comes: courtship.

for every type of naturalborn hybrid that roams earth, they each have their own courtship rituals. for many of them, alphas must prove their worth to their potential mate. werewolf hybrids will bring back game, will defend territory; harpies—depending on which region they live in—will also prove their worth by bringing back prey and helping to build nests.

price can recall the number of times soap had dragged in the corpse of a deer, still warm and fresh to ghost, or how gaz had proudly weaved a wall of brambles and sticks (nevermind the nails and sharp blades) outside ghost's private room. it amused him to no end, seeing them fall prey to their instincts.

but price isn't laughing when he succumbed to his own instincts.

your introduction to the team and you letting price get close to you already had his dragonic alpha mind reeling with excitement. even moreso when you approved of him courting you.

now, dragon hybrids were something else. oftentimes, they were more older than the other hybrids, more ancient and forged deep within the earth's core, connected to mother earth like no other. as such, their courting rituals were more.. barbaric, in other words.

price feels alive when he has to fight you, when your claws dig at his skin and his teeth at your shoulder, near your bite mark. when you roar with fury and punch him away, when your omegan sex has his alphan sex pumping with life. when you both tear up the training room, your set of wings flapping and glittering underneath the artificial lights, when price finally pins you down, when you give a purr of approval.

price finds the prettiest items and gifts them to you, when he dances between feeling overjoyed when you accept it, feeling like he's been stabbed when you reject it. gift by gift price feels pride bloom within him when he sees your little gift hoard grow. when he gifts you a pack of his cherished cigars and gives you his signature hat, he has to go outside and do circles in the heavens when you accept it with gentle hands and carefully guard it.

all of his hard work pays off when you tug him by his scruff and take him to your bedroom, where your bed is carefully nestled with different blankets, with clothes that reek of him. he feels like the luckiest man when you strip yourself of your clothes and lay on the bed, letting your wings—gorgeous things they are—spread out underneath you, take up the bed. your cock, hard and leaking and big, lays on your belly, cum pooling like ichor.

you spread your legs, the scent of an omega ready to mate and take what's theirs, registering in price's brain. it's all he needs before he's racing to tear his clothes off and climbs on you.

he's purring loudly when he touches you all over, dipping his head to kiss at your body, thankful that you gave him the chance to prove his worth. your scent is thick and heavy, musk strong. it makes the embers in his chest flicker and grow to a small fire.

the fire grows when he slips his cock inside, shuddering at how tight and hot you are, burning him. you don't help him, content to lay back and let him figure it out, but price is more than happy to do it by himself. anything for you.

he gets you to cum several times, spilling all over your belly, makes you whimper his name, dig your claws into his back and pull him close to kiss him hard.

price is only ever given permission to cum when you decide he's worthy. your claws dig into your chest and rip it open, an ancient heart beating, cracks of old magic glowing an unusual color. price knows what's to come, but he still grits his teeth when you also rip his chest open.

his knot is forming, catching on your hole, when the two hearts—ancient and waiting for each other after so many years—intertwine together. price pushes his knot in and finally cums, fuck, he shudders and moans, in pleasure and in pain when he feels your anal barbs dig around his cock and knot, making sure he's secured for a while.

the world seems brighter when he collapses on you, open chests bleeding together. he gives little nudges of his hips, cockhead kissing your womb, brushing against your prostate. he feels you sigh contently, and price's heart is a wildfire.

[rcmclachlan]

8x01 coda

Inspired by @dadbodbuck's devastating post.

+

When Eddie draws in a breath, there's an audible crackle. It sounds almost like rales, or maybe heartbreak just manifests as broken glass and burnt particles from a discharged weapon in the lungs. He drops his head onto his chest as though it's too heavy to hold up and says, voice dead, "I don't know what else to do."

Tommy takes a sip of his beer—his fourth of the night—and stares at the ceiling while he tries to come up with the magical answer they've been searching for ever since the Skype call cut out. He frowns. Who still has a popcorn ceiling in the 2020s? He could scrape, skim, and sand it in a weekend.

Evan helpfully mutters something about non-native species into Tommy's thigh, a wet patch of drool expanding where his mouth is smushed into the denim, and Tommy presses his fingers slightly into the back of his neck. He settles almost immediately, then shows his appreciation by opening the floodgates again, soaking right through to Tommy's skin. He's still wearing the cone hat.

"Maybe there's nothing else to do," Tommy muses quietly. He takes another sip of the Nose Job he has no choice but to drink, because for some reason it's all Eddie has in the house. It tastes like grass.

"Used to be that when he was mad about something, he'd tell me to my face." Eddie lifts his head, only to drop it back against the edge of the couch. He's been sitting on the floor for almost an hour. "Even when he was little. He'd plant his feet and say it point blank: I'm mad at you."

Tommy huffs a reluctant laugh at the image.

"Guess he clocked that the reason he's said it so many times is because I never fucking learn." The crackle in Eddie's lungs is loud and awful. Tommy peers down to make sure there isn't blood in Eddie's teeth. "I just... I just hurt him, over and over. I've been doing it for years."

"Hey, no—" Tommy starts.

But Eddie either doesn't hear him or doesn't want even a crumb of kindness tossed his way, because he pushes on, voice growing weaker with every word. "I can blow up a million balloons and I can love him more than anything or anyone, but it's never going to be enough to make up for any of it. He cut his losses. I-I can't even be mad about him hating me, because I can't blame him."

With a wet gasp, Eddie turns his head against his shoulder and shudders.

Inhaling through his nose, Tommy closes his eyes and tries to see things from Christopher's point of view. It takes a few tries, mostly because of a gangly, desperate boy from thirty years ago who would've gladly sacrificed a limb to see his father show him a fraction of the love Eddie Diaz has for his kid.

But once Tommy shoves his inner child out of the way, he can see what Chris sees with startling clarity. Evan's said before that Chris hates their job, is terrified of losing Eddie or Buck the way he lost his mom. Tommy knows a little about Eddie's messy dating history and how it basically amounts to him just chasing one ghost after another out of some misplaced sense of duty to Chris—without ever asking Chris what he actually wants, or what he wants for Eddie.

The thing with his dead wife's doppelganger is too much for even Tommy, and he heard about it second hand. He can't imagine what it was like for Christopher to walk into that.

Tommy opens his eyes and looks down at Eddie, who's hunched over like an animal trying to hide a wound. He looks like something that belongs in the Louvre. The Despair of the Father Whose Best Isn't Good Enough (2024), oil on canvas.

"Eddie," he says gently. Any louder and Eddie will crumble to ruins. "There's nothing more for you to do other than what you're doing. Keep loving him and keep showing up for him, even though it hurts. He will talk to you again."

"How do you know?" Eddie mumbles into his own shoulder.

"Because if he hated you, he never would've taken the call in the first place."

Evan sighs in his sleep, and Tommy runs his thumb over the just-buzzed edge of his nape so softly it wouldn't wake a baby, never mind a full-grown man. He thinks idly about the way people bleed themselves dry for love, and for hope.

He wouldn't spare his father a single drop of blood. He thinks he'd tap a vein if Evan asked.

Pressing his lips together, he nudges Eddie with his foot until Eddie lifts his head. His eyes are glassy and rimmed red, but there's a little less devastation in his gaze than there'd been when he'd shut the laptop and gone straight into the kitchen for the beer.

"Just give it time," Tommy says.

Sniffling, Eddie looks at the hand Tommy has on Evan's neck, and tries to muster up a smile. "And how much more time are you going to give before—"

"Nope," Tommy cuts in, because that's a conversation for another time, another place, and another person. "You think I won't literally kick a man when he's down?"

It's not his best work but it makes Eddie laugh, so he calls it a win.

[minihotdog]

Whose Wife Is This?

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Summary: John comes home and finds out that he somehow has a wife.

a/n: lmaooo I just had this idea before I went to bed the other night. Kinda wrote this in a hurry so it isn't organized at all and the story is all over the place, yada yada. Bare with me... Bear with me? *shrugs*

word count: 1k

***

John tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes to no avail. There was no way of hiding that the long nights he’d been putting in at the office were weighing on him. But with no reason to go home, why would he? He’d just have to complete the mountain of paperwork the next day anyway. His eyes strained from hours of reading, his wrist ached from writing.

Young John Price would’ve never imagined the amount of paper pushing he’d be doing as an operator. His naive young self lived for the chaos of the field, sometimes even putting off his less-than-exciting duties. 

“Sir?” John’s head shoots up. The boys stand at his door huddled around the small entrance. “You staying here all night, Captain?” Gaz asks with concern mixed into his voice. John looks over to the now significantly smaller pile of papers littering his desk.

“I was just finishing up. You boys need something?”

Gaz shakes his head, “No, sir.” A smirk plays on his lips. “Just tell your wife we said ‘hello’.”

“I’ll let her know.” He replies absentmindedly. The boys leave the captain alone once again, he continues looking at the papers, shuffling them around before he stops abruptly.

“My wife? What the bloody hell were they talking about.” He mutters to himself. He takes it as a sign that he should call it a night since he is now imagining things. “I don’t have a wife. Why would he say that?” 

***

The drive home is silent. At the end of a long day, he couldn’t stand to listen to anything, his mind was too exhausted to think about anything but a beer and his bed. Not many knew about his personal life. Ghost was the only one who knew he’d been married before, but the marriage occurred when he was younger and undoubtedly more immature.

He made it to selection, began his career, and fell into the same pattern many men in his profession did: Partying, one-night stands, etc. He would be the first to admit that he’d been a piss-poor husband and he was now missing the touch of a woman in his life. His bed was lonely, his house devoid of life, reflecting how often he was actually home. He’d become a hopeless romantic, dreaming of someone he could hold in his arms. He yearned for someone to memorize. Their little habits and quirks, someone he’d share moments with, even have arguments with.

He pulls into his driveway barely remembering the drive home. He groans as he steps out of his car, his back aching from the day of training and being hunched over. He moseys his way to the front door and unlocks it while letting out a deep breath. The hallway is lit by a single dim light, the brown floral wallpaper looks like it came from the 19th century and gives the home a depressing look. He unties his boots and kicks them off leaving them next to the door. He removes his uniform top tossing it on the chair on the opposite wall before his feet pat softly against the hardwood floors leading towards the kitchen, towards a beer he so badly wanted to have.

He briefly glances at a photo framed on the wall and continues onward-

Wait a second?

He takes a couple of steps back and his head snaps towards the photo. His eyes scan it knowing for a fact that it had not been there in the morning… Or any time before that. A woman in a white sun dress sat smiling in a field of flowers. He rubs his eyes, unable to believe what he is seeing, she’s wearing his bucket hat.

He looks further down the hall and sees another picture frame, this one on top of the entryway table next to a pot of plants he either forgot to water or wasn’t around to. He rushes over to it and his eyes almost pop out of his head. This photo was of him smiling down at the same woman. He reaches for it, holding it close to his face. He looks around trying to make sense of what was happening only to realize the pot of dead plants now had vibrant green leaves pouring out of it.

Maybe he’d entered the wrong house? That couldn’t be, the furniture was in the same place as it had been before. And he couldn’t deny that the man in the photo looked exactly like him. Just as he was certain he was losing his mind a feminine voice calls out for him.

“John?”

He puts the picture frame back on the table and swings around towards the voice. Small bits of light flood into the hallway from the crack in the kitchen door. He slowly pushes the door further, his eyes trying to adjust to the bright light.

“There you are! I thought I heard you come home.” A woman rushes towards him wiping her hands on her pink apron. She pulls him into a hug but he’s too stunned to react. She pecks his cheeks and pulls him towards the dining table. “Sit, honey. I made you dinner. You stayed so late today, you’re probably starving.”

He lets her drag him to the table and plops down on a chair. She flows around the counter and returns with a plate of food. She places it in front of him in between the cutlery already on the table. The meal looks far better than what he’s been putting together for himself the last few weeks. He usually cooked or meal planned but work this week just didn’t let him and he expected to come home tonight and sleep for dinner.

He blinks at her for a few seconds unsure of how he ended up in this situation.

“Love, what are you doing in my house?” 

“I’m your wife silly,” You giggle at him while leaning over to give him another kiss on the cheek.

If he had the energy to argue he would, but instead he decided to eat. He licks the plate clean and brings it to the kitchen sink.

“C’mon, honey. You’re so tired, let’s get you in bed.”

He follows quietly trying to figure out if he should accept this or if he should ask questions in the morning. There’s only one thing he knows for sure in his exhausted state: That’s not his wife.

[grandlinedreams]

| for @eelnois bc I said I'd do it 😎 save a horse ride a cowboy ok bye time to hide

[!]: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI.

[Heads up!: Ace is hot (literally), pet names used (babe, sweetheart, pretty boy), gn!reader, dom-ish?reader, unprotected sex (make informed decisions kids!), floor sex lmao ouch]

With your legs slung on either side of his hips and his hat on your head, Ace thinks you've never looked more stunning to him than you do at this moment.

You catch the quiet, starry-eyed look of admiration on his face and the blush of your cheeks darkens. "What?"

"Nothing," Ace says, makes your heart flutter at the way the edges of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, reaching to caress your too-warm cheek. "You look good in my hat, sweetheart. That's all."

You reach up to toy with the floppy brim of the item you'd snagged from him earlier ㅡ and tilt it at a jaunty angle. "And now?"

"Stunning."

"You're just saying that," you chastise, and Ace laughs.

"Hardly. I just happen to think you look good in anything. Or anywhere." Ace's tone is soft, though his expression shifts to something between thoughtful and mischievous. "Beside me, beneath me...definitely above me..."

"Ace," you admonish as he snickers, reaching to pull you down for a kiss. It doesn't take long for him to dominate the kiss despite being the one pinned to the floor, and your head spins pleasantly with both the heat of his mouth and the wander of his hands.

Fingers splay across your back and up, bunching your shirt until you pull away to blink at Ace. "We're on the floor," you start, "do you really want to do this here?"

"Good as anywhere," Ace answers, unbothered as he tugs your shirt up and over your head. "I just want you, babe."

Though it's not the first time Ace has said that, it still makes your heart stutter in your chest. "I want you too," you murmur, watch his eyes light up as the blush of his cheeks darkens.

"'m all yours," he murmurs before he tugs you down. He doesn't have to ask if you feel the same when you respond so eagerly to his touch, when you laugh the way that you do, gravitating towards him like it's second nature ㅡ you love him just as much as he loves you.

It doesn't take long to shed your clothing, the quiet hiss from Ace when you settle against him again, this time bare ㅡ and he stops you when you go to remove his hat, squeezing at your hips. "W-Wait, keep the hat on. It looks good." He bites his lip. "Really good."

Ace will be the death of you, you swear ㅡ in the best of ways, of course. Your hands leave the brim of his hat, and you lean to kiss him as his lips curve.

His hands skim over your back and down, squeezing handfuls of soft skin and admiring every dip and curve, imperfections made perfect and loved for the simple fact that they're yours ㅡ he would never, could never fault you for them. They deserve as much admiration as the rest of you, something he takes pride in doing whole heartedly and without condition.

The inward slip of his fingers is expected given that he's far from fond of the idea of hurting you in even the slightest bit ㅡ much less when you're intimate. You muffle your moans into his shoulder at his practiced touch, the way he knows you well enough to sense when you're getting impatient.

Your fingers splay across his chest as you sink down onto him, the upward press of his hips to help him bottom out ㅡ and the handful of breathless seconds as you adjust before you begin to move.

Though he'd been telling the truth about enjoying the view of you on top of him, Ace isn't as accustomed to being the one at your mercy as you ride him, his hands trembling as he grips your hips to help you.

Your rhythm is steady despite the ache already building in your thighs, mesmerized by the way Ace's face contorts with pleasure. You've had the privilege of seeing a thousand expressions cross his face, but these are definitely some of your favorites.

"Pretty boy," you coo as you tug at a nipple, breath hitching at the way his hips buck in response. "You look good underneath me."

And he does ㅡ tanned skin flushed and sweat slick, dark hair splayed beneath him, Ace is living art, down to the kiss swollen quality of his lips. He groans at the praise, head tipping back and giving you prime space to suck a mark into the column of his throat.

"Babe," he warns as you move to repeat the motion, the slow drag of your tongue making him hiss a soft curse under his breath. "G-gonna make me cum if you keep biting me like that."

"Doesn't sound like an issue to me," you answer, tone low and sweet in his ears as you shift to kiss over his pulse point. "Go ahead, my pretty boy. Wanna see you fall apart for me."

He chokes at your words, strained whimper as the tension pulls tight in his lower stomach before it snaps and he tugs at you, drags you down tight against him as he cums. You aren't far behind him, the added stimulation making him groan at the feeling of you tightening and adding to the sticky mess between the two of you.

You stretch out above him as your muscles give out, listening to the rapid tempo of his heartbeat, a synchronous match for your own. "Gonna have to let you wear my hat more often," he rasps finally from where he's treading the post-sex haze, and you laugh softly.

"Liked it that much, huh?"

"Yeah," he answers, grinning as he kisses your shoulder. "I did."

[lefaystrent]

Friendly Neighborhood Criminals

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic Patton/Dark Sides

Summary: Sweet, adorable, mild-tempered Patton who's just beginning to come out of his shell and learn that the world maybe does not in fact hate him for being born... has now been taken under the wings of some well-meaning criminals.

-------------------------------------------------------

Patton can't quite figure out how he ended up here.

Well, he knows he's in his apartment. He had saved up for months just to afford the deposit. And the landlord had been so sweet to take a chance on him with his credit, or lack thereof. Now he has a space of his own, a one bedroom with hardwood floors he can slip and slide on socked feet. He can go to the fridge when he wants and not be yelled at for eating the food or drinking the water.

And sometimes! Sometimes a black and white kitty cat roams the front steps. Patton's fairly certain it belongs to one of the neighbors, and she wears a collar. He's not supposed to pet cats because of his allergies, but he likes to let her rub her sides against his pants leg while he talks to her. It's nice because she doesn't tell him to shut up or tell him he's stupid or call him ungrateful.

This apartment is his new chance at life. A slice of freedom. And he's proud of it.

But then one night, three men break into his apartment. They probably think he isn't there because there is no vehicle parked in his one assigned spot. Owning a car seems light-years away in terms of money. It's not like he really needs one either! He has a bus pass and two legs to walk on!

Regardless, the three men break into his apartment, picking the locked front door, and they come in uninvited to see his apartment that he is very proud of.

His apartment that has no furniture.

"What the fuck?" Patton hears one of them say. As soon as he heard them picking the lock, he panicked and cowered behind the bedroom door. He huddles now on the other side, peeking out the crack and scared that closing it will make too much noise.

"Is this one empty?" another asks. They walk into the center of the small living area. It's an open space that melds into the kitchen, separated only by a short island counter.

"No, I've seen a guy coming in and out. Someone's been living here."

"Maybe they just moved out?"

"No, I just saw him earlier today. There haven't been any moving vans."

"Uh, bedroom then?"

"Oh God," Patton shudders in fright. He knows he's not supposed to think the worst in people, but these guys came in without permission with clearly bad intentions. What if they are looking for him? What if they want to hurt him? Or kidnap him? They had obviously been watching him for some time.

"Maybe. Let's check it out."

Terror slams into him. He throws himself away from the door and spins in the middle of the bedroom, searching for any place to hide. But there isn't one. There are no curtains, no bed to crawl under. There is a blanket on the floor with a pillow. He's been saving up for an air mattress as his next goal. He's been looking forward to sleeping on something somewhat soft.

The tiny closet has no room to hold him, and the window jams up nine times out of ten. They'll hear him if he attempts pushing the pane up and–

The door creaks as it sways open. Three men stare at a scattered-brain mess.

"Oh shit, he's here!"

"I thought you said he left!"

"I thought he did!"

Patton can't take it anymore. He throws up his hands and screams, "Please don't kill me! I can give you my wallet. There's not much in there, I'm sorry. Just please don't kill me!"

"Dude, is that where you sleep?" one of them gestures to the blanket pile on the floor.

Sniffling back tears, Patton responds, "Do you want my blankets? You can have them."

"Do you seriously live here, or are you squatting?" another says. He's wearing a hat. It's a very nice hat and Patton would tell him so if he wasn't about to pee his pants.

"I live here....it's my apartment."

"There's no shame if you're squatting. We won't tell anyone. Do what you gotta do."

A hysterical giggle tumbles out his lips. Patton shakes his head hard enough to give himself whiplash. "No, it's my place, I pay for it, I swear."

"You mean you live like this?" This one wears a dark hooded jacket, hood up.

"Y-yeah?" Patton stammers. He can't understand why they're so hung up on where he lives.

"This is..." the third one strokes his mustache, "Yeah, I can't even make fun of this. This is just sad."

"Do you have food in your fridge?" the hat guy demands. "Please tell me you at least have food in your fridge."

"Uh....uh... yes? Are you hungry?"

In answer, the hat guy strides with angry purpose into the kitchen. Patton can't see him from this angle anymore, but he hears the fridge open.

"There's literally only spaghetti in here!"

"It's...it's cheap to make." Patton doesn't know why he's explaining himself. Had he known that three men were going to break into his apartment, should he have prepared better meals for them?

"Can I have some?" the guy with the mustache asks, only to be cuffed by the hoodie guy.

"Dude, not the issue here."

"Why is there only pasta?!! Why don't you have any tables or TVs or a fucking bed?!!!"

The hat guy had gone past the boiling point. He hollers and slams cabinet doors like no tomorrow. Patton flinches and remembers too vividly of the atmosphere before the apartment. Before he was safe.

"I'm sorry," Patton defaults to how he's supposed to respond. He has been bad and he has to make amends. The tears overflow now and he can't get his shaking hands to wipe the wet streaks away. "I'm so sorry!"

"Oh shit, he's breaking. Virge, do something?"

"What the hell am I supposed to do?! I am not mentally equipped for this!"

"Janny!!"

The hat guy comes whirling back with all the fury of a storm. His shoulders heave. A gloved finger points straight at Patton.

"You!" he roars. Well, it's more like a hiss, but it sounds like a roar to Patton's sensitive ears.

"I'm sorry!"

"You have nothing to apologize for! Obviously, society has let you down. This is unforgivable. Deplorable! You deserve better than this."

"I do?" Patton questions, glasses askew and eyes wide.

"Yes. Come boys, we're leaving."

"Wait, why? Where?" Virge exclaims, waving his hands back and forth at everything and nothing at all. "What are we doing? This isn't the plan."

"New plan! Operation Do-It-Ourselves commences now."

And that is how Patton finds himself standing outside his apartment the next morning watching the three theives from last night moving furniture into his apartment.

He doesn't question if the furniture is stolen. He doesn't ask why they're going through so much trouble. He doesn't ever call the police.

He watches them bicker as they wedge a sofa through the door. He mumbles an answer when they politely ask him which wall he wants it pushed against. He eats the breakfast sandwiches that they brought him, and he feels like he's having an out of body experience.

Janus, the hat guy, directs the other two with confident authority. Virgil, the hoodie-clad one, fills up the fridge with groceries. Remus, the man with the mustache, shoves a mattress into the bedroom.

"What's happening?" Patton mutters to himself later. He thinks he's being quiet enough, but Remus hears him and throws an arm over his shoulder.

"Janus has adopted you. This is how it starts. It's best to just go with it."

Sweet, adorable, mild-tempered Patton who's just beginning to come out of his shell and learn that the world maybe does not in fact hate him for being born... has now been taken under the wings of some well-meaning criminals.

[that-ari-blogger]

Wicked's Existential Crisis

Deception is a big theme in Wicked. I don't think this is news to many people. The wizard is a wizard, truth is truth, happy is what happens when all your dreams come true.

Galinda embodies this pretty heavily, but so does Fiyero, although they do so in similar ways. They both lie to others, and realise that they have been lying to themselves later on.

But, you need a baseline before you get to character development. You need a benchmark for everyone to either move up or down from, depending on the genre.

In my opinion, Dancing Through Life establishes that benchmark, while asking a few more philosophical questions as it does.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

"Dancing through life, Down at the Oz Dust If only because dust Is what we come to. Nothing matters, But knowing nothing matters, It's just life So keep dancing through"

Fiyero, buddy, friend, pal... are you ok?

Dancing Through Life is the introduction of Fiyero, and there is a enormous difference between what he is saying and how he is saying it.

That dust line is actually a biblical allusion, with various Judeo-Christian books and prayers claiming that G-d created humans from dust, and that when someone dies, they return to that dust. Hence the "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" saying (source). So, Fiyero is nihilistic.

"Nothing matters, so why bother trying" is such a morbid idea, and its usually associated with emo music, either lots of drums and raw emotions, or quiet and sad. So, when Fiyero sings it as a musical theatre, bombastic full orchestra song, his message flies under the radar because it is so dissonant with the style.

That's the key here. Most of the time, people are nuanced, and stereotypes do not encompass the human experience at all. The emotionally confused or depressed or spiraling person isn't the one who sits in the moonlight writing sappy poetry, it's the person who manages to hide it the most easily because they've been doing it for the longest.

Fiyero is putting up a mask to hide his insecurities, and he is doing it by... not wearing a mask?

Lampshading is the practice of softening elements in a piece of media, letting the audience know that something is out of order or farcical, and turning it into a joke. Overly Sarcastic Productions (@comicaurora) has a video explaining the trope in detail.

In a weird way, this is what Fiyero is doing. He is turning his own crisis into a joke. He doesn't have to hide it if he can poke fun at it. He becomes self-referential, and tells people to move on past the words he is saying and focus on the fun dancing and music.

I see where Fiyero is coming from, here. Purpose is difficult to find in this world, and it definitely seems like neither good or bad are rewarded, and luck will do what it will. But I would like to present a counter point.

Everything Everywhere All At Once was easily the most emotionally powerful film of 2022, and it also discussed nihilism in detail. I don't want to get into plot spoilers, but this movie asks the question: If nothing matters, then what?

And the answer to this is clear: Everything. In a Cinema Therapy video on the film, Johnothan Decker states this:

"If nothing we do matters, then the only thing that matters is what we do."

Actions have whatever meaning we ascribe to them, and if we ascribe no meaning to anything, then everything has meaning on the same level. If nothing matters, then everything matters.

This segways into another core question of the musical and especially this song. Do intentions matter?

Galinda and Elphaba have a comedy of errors with the gift giving, specifically when Galinda sets up Nessa with Boq, and Elphaba arranges for her to receive a wand in return, contrasted with the infamous hat.

Galinda does things for personal gain, and accidentally makes someone's life slightly better for a moment, and Boq kind of does the same. Neither of the two cares about Nessarose, but they bring her happiness in the short term.

"We deserve each other, and Galinda helped it come true."

I mentioned in my post about The Wizard And I that this theme comes up there first, in association with meeting the wizard, and I think there is something else to it than just deception. Don't get me wrong, this is deception at work, Elphaba with the Wizard and Nessa with everyone around her. But that lie has a positive result here, for the moment.

It also separates the consequences from the intention. Elphaba sees the wizard and wants to improve the world, her hopes are on rocky foundations, but her actions are strong, and I have already mentioned what Galinda's actions do.

However, I would argue that intentions do matter, and that this musical agrees with me, and that is with Boq, a person whom I despise.

As a character, Boq is fascinating. He is a direct satire of the hopeless romantic of stereotypical fairy tales, think Ariel from The Little Mermaid, or Lancelot from the 1963 movie, Lancelot and Guenevere. Boq is trying desperately to court someone who does not care about him and has someone who does care fall from the sky in front of him, but he can't see past himself.

Now, pining is all well and good, you are allowed to pine, and if someone is attracted to you, there is no law that says you must be attracted back. But Boq goes a step further.

"It's because I'm in this chair and you felt sorry for me. Isn't that right?" "No! No! It's because you are so beautiful."

Boq had an opportunity to back out of the romance handed to him on a silver platter. He could have said it was just a dance, or even confessed that Galinda put him up to it, if he so desired. But Boq made a choice to keep stringing Nessarose along. He may have his reasons, but I think his actions are not excusable, and the gut punch at the end of the musical when he tells her that he never cared is a betrayal that could have been so easily avoided.

Boq and Fiyero go on to become key players in the "death" of the Wicked Witch of the West, and they do so for alternative reasons, and it reframes Dorothy's journey.

For a more nuanced explanation of what I mean, consider this: In 2019, youtuber Hbomberguy (Harry Brewis) raised $347000 for a Brittish charity organisation called Mermaids in a livestream of Donkey Kong 64, and he gave a speech in October of that year about why he did such a thing.

"I think secretly, we're always making one of two decisions, and we make that decision even if we don't know we're making it. You're either choosing to make life worse for someone you don't like, or better for people you care about. There is an actual difference, and I didn't realise I made the wrong choice until a lot of people came over and helped change the choice retrospectively."

What you are trying to do matters, because if you keep trying to do good, even if you hit roadblocks, if you are truly committed, you will eventually do some good in the world.

I actually like Brewis' definition of right and wrong here, because it isn't overly philosophical, it pertains to individual actions. You either make someone else's life better or worse.

I have been rambling around my point for a while, so let me make it concise. Dancing Through Life asks philosophical questions about life. What matters? Is it you? Is it your actions? Is it your intentions?

Final Thoughts

There are two other things I need to mention before I finish. First up, the extras are some of the best parts of this musical, and in this song, that is driven home. Everything comes across as so superficial, and not in a "that's bad acting" way, but in a "that's an actor playing a character who is acting" way. This carries over to Galinda's entire style of talking, but the extras knock it out of the park here. It means that the only sincere moments in the song hit with the relevant weight. Those being Elphaba and Nessa's conversation, and the Elphaba dance (something remarkably difficult to find images of).

That dance is the moment I see Glinda x Elphaba (I still refuse to use the Gelphie ship name) actually taking off, rather than in What Is This Feeling, because it's the first moment that the two see eye to eye, and Galinda finally understands Elphaba. She earns her friendship and trust by trying to make up for her mistakes. Galinda talks a lot, but actions speak louder than words, and that dance kicks off a love story.

Next week, I will be diving into Popular, a number that really takes apart the theming to an overt level only matched by one other song, and we will get to that one soon.

Previous - Next

[aetherdoesthings]

Hello! I'm diving into your posts and everything is so lovely!

So I'd like to know if you're interested in writing about a reader who isn't sure why they were recruited, since they don't participate in the battles and are an ordinary person; The reader is always trying to prove their worth to their romantic interest in some way and sees this opportunity when, alone on the boat, other pirates invade the vessel and deciding that this was the moment, the reader tries to fight all of them and gets very hurt.

It may sound a bit confusing but the main idea would be something like "I want it, I get it", giving the idea that the reader was simply recruited by the cliché of love at first sight.

It's okay if you turn down the idea, find it boring, or just don't respond at all! I just thought it would be a cool and very emotional idea, cute confession and with a unique touch of each character, you know?

Anyway, thanks for reading and have a great day/night! ♡

R~

(the characters in question would be Zoro, Luffy and Sanji)

hello R~! i chose to only write for zoro bc i've been writing sanji a lot and i haven't really done a lot of zoro fics, so yeah! apologies if you wanted luffy or sanji!

forethoughts: kinda rushed, it's 1am and i have to wake up at 7 tomorrow 😭. this req will be a mixture of headcanons (bullet points) and text. also just as a question has any of y'all listened to ado before?

notes: gn!reader, zoro that doesn't know how to show emotions but being blunt about it.

You really had no idea what your life would become when a scrawny boy walked up to you and asked you to join his pirate crew. No reason at all, just ‘hey join my crew’.

You were an ordinary person. That’s all. Can’t fight, can’t do anything, really. But you did so anyways, since maybe life on a ship would be much better.

You tried to get along with the crew and show your worth, but there wasn’t anything you could really do. There were already three very formidable fighters, a navigator, an archaeologist, a craftsman and snipe, a shipwright, all the jobs were already taken. So what could you do?

Thank God Luffy always called you to play tag with him and Usopp and Chopper, either having you chase them around, or find them in a game of hide and seek.

But one day, while the Straw Hats were exploring an island, you were tasked to guard the ship. You tried your best, hoping no pirates would come to attack you, but you had the worst luck in the world.

A band of pirates came towards the Sunny, and got on board. You had no experience in fighting at all, except for a couple of times Zoro would drag you into the gym to practice your punches and increase your strength. You never asked why, he just forced you to put on boxing gloves and begin hitting a punching bag. 

You knew that if you managed to hold them off, you could prove your worth to the Straw Hats, so you balled your fists and striked at a pirate.

You get knocked out and beaten into a blood pulp within an instance, 

Fortunately the Straw Hats came back early, and quickly subdued all the pirates and recovered anything stolen, as Chopper rushed to take you back to the infirmary.

When you gained consciousness, you saw a green haired man standing next to your bed, his arms folded.

There wasn’t anyone else in the room. Just you and the swordsman.

“Zoro?” You murmur.

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“My body hurts…” You try to sit up, before getting stopped by a blade.

“Move and I’ll slice your throat.” Zoro looked at you, his eyes narrowing. You lied back down on the bed, looking at the swordsman as he sheathed his sword.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Fixing the ship and recovering everything.”

You felt guilt filling your heart, as you frowned. “I’m sorry… I really tried… I just can’t fight… I’m not good at fighting… I’m sorry…”

“You idiot, don’t be sorry. And don’t even think about moving.” The swordsman snapped. But underneath his words, you can tell his voice was shaking. You stay still, lying down on the bed.

“Why did Luffy recruit me? I’m just some ordinary person. I can’t even fight. I can’t even do anything…”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m sorry?”

“That’s bullshit. You’re not ordinary. You can do things.”

“But I can’t fight…”

“You don’t need to know how to fight to be on this crew.” Zoro looked at you intensely. “You’re already doing enough on this ship.”

“What could you possibly mean by that?”

“You’re doing enough on this ship by being on this ship.”

“You’re confusing me.”

“I like you, hear me? I love you a lot.” Zoro gripped onto your chin tightly, looking at you in the eyes. “I saw you on that island while back. It was like love at first sight. And when I want something, I’ll get it. So I got Luffy to let you join.”

“Wait, what?!  You like me?”

“Yes, I do.” Zoro looks at you. “So don’t ever dare call yourself useless. You have a use.”

“Being your girlfriend?”

“Mhm. Whatever I want, I always get it.”

Life was certainly going to get interesting for you now.

[lunarleonardo]

Just saw art that inspired this thought for an au. I think I've seen some shippy fics floating around for it that take place outside of killing games but not for inside the killing games so idk if it's been done before.

Basically, an au where shuichi can see and hear ghosts (which canonically exist in danganronpa). He's seen ghosts for as long as he can remember and uses that ability to his advantage in investigations (and helps the ghosts move on). He pretends he doesn't think ghosts exist due to the never ending therapy and drugs his parents would try to get his "delusions" to stop as a child. So whenever the question "do you believe in ghosts?" comes up he's like "they're obviously not real, if they were we would have proof by now."

Of course he hides this from everyone in the killing game because they'd think he's insane or being deeply disrespectful to their dead classmates. He's used to getting the attention of ghosts and prompting to follow him to speak with them alone, usually by looking right at them (hard to deny eye contact) and using subtle body language. Part of the reason he wears his hat is to avoid looking at ghost strangers.

As an excuse for writing reasons, ghosts do not remember the moments leading up to their death very clearly, so Rantaro would not remember how exactly he died. Which leads to Kaede's execution happening again. Hoshi would remember the plan but not the moment of death, he would keep it from shuichi though for kirumi to succeed. Angie and Tenko would harass shuichi a lot. Miu... she'd be so mad her plan didn't work and shuichi would take the brunt of her anger, there's no she's helping him. No clue what kokichi would do, I doubt he'd know what to do either since he fully expected to be dead dead without anyone figuring out.

None of the ghosts move on until the killing game is over. Shuichi never reveals to anyone living that he sees their ghost classmates. Kokichi might catch on to something weird going on with Shuichi but Shuichi would never admit it even if he guesses correctly. Well, correctly enough, he might think shuichi believes he sees ghosts but kokichi doesn't actually believe in ghosts. "That's not funny, I don't see ghosts- I'm not delusional. Leave me alone." <- man who will see ghost kokichi during chapter 5. It would probably piss off kokichi so much to see shuichi (and probably a couple other ghosts) stare at him after they find the press and know that his plan is screwed from the start.

The ghosts hangout in shuichi's room because he has a tiny shrine + incense out to deter mean spirits. In this case, mean spirits would be the really annoying dead monocubs. The ghosts usually hang in his room or follow him, they miss the set up for killings. Shuichi never really gets a break to be alone.

Things that tether ghosts to the world are probably special items, places, and people. His classmates would probably be very uncomfortable sticking to where they died so they stick to shuichi and his room (technically the little shrine + incense) instead.

"It's so peaceful looking at the stars isn't it shuichi?" "sure is..." <- man who is currently subject to the yammering of several ghosts.

- @blorboindulgence

Ahh, ghost-seeing aus!! I wrote one of those in my oneshot docs once (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠) This poor kid was probably forced onto so much medication he needed to be :{ that can reallly mess with your head,,. Poor guy. You cant fix something that doesnt need fixing (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

I cant imagine what the 5th trial was like lmfao. Would Shuichi pretend not to know who was dead and who was alive the whole time for the sake of Kokichis plan? Shuichi has the power to steer the trial in the wrong direction, so if Kokichi told him the basics of it... Oh I wonder how that would go. Cant imagine how awkward that would've been xD

Oh actually!! Would Kokichi remember Maki shooting him? He might faintly recall someone coming into the hangar after Kaito attacked him, but probably not much else after that (⁠个⁠_⁠个⁠) man if I was Kokichi and that shit happened to me you would've seen me on the news. or whatever ghosts have.. probably haunted radios i dunno

[applebinnie]

▶︎ˏˋ aye-aye, captain! >< ´ˎ˗

𖦹 part I ! 𖦹

ᯤ fishing boat operator!leehan ᯤ

→ Your neighbors back in your family province owned a really cool fishing boat. The sweet couple taught you how to use it so you could help with fishing duties during the summer. However you stumble upon the said boat, which is now (unfortunately) under the management of their oddball of a son. 

warnings: none! except for the fact that I'm vv mid at writing and it's my first time writing in eng so please reduce your expectations to ground level 😭

💭: I'm still experimenting with the whole y/n thingy, and I was thinking, should I name mc yuu or should I just keep it at y/n? lmk!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

You woke up at the crack of dawn to get dressed and ready. It's the summer, and that means you'll be staying at the province! You looked forward to everything the place has to offer, from the fresh air to the salty fragrance of the beach. But one thing you always look forward to is the nice family next door and their cool fishing boat! You can't recall if you still know how to use it. The captain gave you a crash course on how to operate it last summer, but you weren't really able to give it a go yourself. You decided that the first thing that you wanted to do today was to fish!

You see the captain and his wife smiling upon your arrival. They always treated you like their own daughter, greeting you with a warm pot of your favorite soup and a kiss on the forehead. It was always like that, except now something is missing from the usual greetings. Aside from their dog, Connie, there had always been a third figure peeking from behind Mr. Captain, waiting for the right time to jump and chase you around the front porch.

Leehan, the couple's only son wasn't around to welcome you, which was odd, considering that he was always the first one to approach and show you his new fishes or brag about their cool boat. He always trailed closely behind Mr. Captain, carrying his adorable little Connie. You always thought he was a little weird, but that doesn't mean he isn't the sweetest boy you've met.

"I haven't seen him since this morning! that boy ran out the door as soon as he finished eating, I don't even know anymore," Mr. Captain sighed. You finished eating and went out to look for Leehan.

"Han?" you called out. You went out to the sand, but you couldn't find him anywhere! You then saw Riwoo, the kid who always carried around a camera and small packets of bird food to feed the gulls.

"Riwoo!" You waved at him. He wore a beach hat with a wide rim, covered in sand and seaweeds.

"Yuu!" He waved back. Usually, when Riwoo is around, a few steps behind him is Woonhak. You didn't even need to make an effort to see Woonhak, who was clearly behind the mango tree. No wonder he always lost during hide and seek games, because he thought that if he can't see you, then you can't see him either, and the constant peeking and giggling gave him away.

"Boo!" You tapped at Hak's shoulder. He scrambled to hide his phone, sliding it in the pockets of his shorts. "Hey Y/n, didn't see you there, ha...ha." He chuckled nervously. You were starting to think that he was hiding something. You looked behind him.

"Are you okay? Are you looking for something?"

"Nothing, thought you were hiding an insect of any kind to shove to my face. "

Woonhak laughed at your response. But it was true, he was indeed thinking of scaring you with a fake plastic lizard.

Still no sign of Leehan. You figured that he's probably with Taesan at their favourite usual spot: the docks.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

💭: "But val, you're a riize blog!" I had a little too much fun making this I had to restrain myself so I cld finish the other fics during the VERY little free time that I have 😭 also, I had no idea that it was saturday today I legitimately thought it was friday ?!?! anyways I hope you guys like it RAGHRAGHRAGH - val ����

[riddle-me-ri]

a/n: sooooo….it's my birthday and I'd love nothing more than to imagine spending it with these losers lol so heres some headcanons/scenarios I dont even know what to call them– really just chewable scenarios lol…apologies beforehand if Goemon is noticeably longer list than others…he's a favorite and it can't be helped and for context the reader is already in a relationship with the characters.

Celebrating your Birthday with Lupin and Gang Headcanons

Lupin the Third

- “Happy Birthday~!”

- You giggled. “Thank you, Lupin…”

- You've given up telling him that he doesn't have to wish you a happy birthday every time he saw you on this special day, but you found it endearing all the same.

- The gentleman thief made it his ultimate goal to spoil you today.

- Whatever your heart desired would automatically be in your hands.

- Much to the chagrin of his partners…

- You're just excited to have Lupin to yourself for the entire day.

- No heists, no stunts, no schemes, just genuine quality time with him.

- (that is hoping Zenigata isn't hiding out somewhere which was always probable)

- Expect his relentless teasing, like asking how old you're turning so he knows how many kisses to give you…

- And maybe just maybe you'll both get to end the night together in each other's birthday suits.

Jigen Daisuke

- “Hm? Today's your birthday? Surprise to me..” Jigen shrugged, nonchalantly..

- As if he hasn't been mentally planning for this day when you first told him when your birthday was.

- He's never exactly been crazy about these celebrations, especially if it's his own, but if it's someone he cares about, it's a different story.

- Jigen is up for whatever you want to do, but he has a couple surprises up his sleeve in case you didn't have any ideas.

- He may not seem overly romantic, especially compared to Lupin but he's aware of the motions and he does listen.

- Jigen remembers what your favorite food is, where your favorite bookstore is, or how he recalls you wanting to go to a new park square in the city and you've wanted to go see it but never had the time.

- When Jigen suggests a whole day with just you and him and your favorites that he's picked up since knowing you…you're more than sold.

- Near the end of the day, you do have one teeny tiny request to ask of Jigen….

- You asked if you could wear his hat–-just for a second and you assured him you wouldn't tell anyone-

- It was hard to contain your excitement as he promptly handed you his hat. Once it was placed on your head, you leaned forward and gave Jigen an appreciative kiss.

- “Don't mention it, hope you had a happy birthday.”

Goemon Ishikawa XIII

- Goemon won't let anyone or anything ruin your day-

- Plus, he's always willing to take any opportunity to spend time with you alone, which goes both ways.

- I could see both of you taking this day as an opportunity to experience each other's cultures.

- While you can't shake him on trying your local cuisine, you do take him to certain spots that are either intriguing or just feel like home for you…

- (atleast before Goemon became a figure of home for you.)

- On the other side of the coin, Goemon enjoys nothing more than sharing some of his culture with you.

- Such as having you try Japanese food (to show why it's superior)

- Or Goemon showing you the various historic and gorgeous sights..

- Or the two of you reserving a private onsen for the two of you near the end of the day…

- The idea both pleased but flustered, Goemon. It'll be peaceful but awfully intimate…

- Once the two of you are in the bath, some of the tension is alleviated, as you two began discussing about everything from the day's events to the past and the future…

- The evening ends with a sweet kiss that reddens the samurai's face more so than the heated bath.

Fujiko Mine

- Somehow Fujiko seems more excited than you are on your own birthday.

- Definitely has plans already made unless you suggest something different-

- Fujiko will take you out on a shopping spree before grabbing a bite at the most luxurious restaurant.

- She will not allow you to feel guilty that she's doing too much…

- To her, there is no such thing when it comes to you.

- Fujiko focuses all her attention on you and making sure your day is perfect.

- No matter how hard Lupin tries to interfere for her (and your) attention.

- Like Lupin, she will definitely make it a point to kiss you the same amount as the age you're turning, but will stretch them out instead of doing it all in one go.

- Fujiko's flirtatious teasing is amped tenfold towards you, as if she couldn't make your face any redder or heart beat faster.

- Near the end of your special day, however, she backs up all her flirting and renders you completely speechless and adored (Lupin doesn't even try to hide his jealously the next day)

Inspector Zenigata

- There's only so few days that hold great importance for Zenigata…

- The inevitable day he puts Lupin behind bars, The day he met you, and your birthday!

- You have to give this man credit, when it comes to your birthday he commits to having his focus solely on you.

- Open to doing whatever you would like to do-

- But don't expect to pay for anything, not even for a cup of water somewhere.

- Zenigata is anxious over the gift he got you, as if the whole ordeal of finding you the perfect gift didn't make him just as anxious -

- He's pretty sure you mentioned wanting this. He hopes you haven't gotten it for yourself. Did he choose the right wrapping paper?

- With clammy hands, Zenigata finally hands you your gift--you're too sweet and tell him that he didn't need to get you anything, which he instantly dismisses.

- The relief Zenigata felt as your eyes lit up and you gasped in delight–you immediately thank him with a kiss to the cheek and a warm embrace.

[ponuchuu]

Where is my daily serving of puppetgear lore Nick, I'm HUNGRY

WHAT IS THERE TO GIVE U THEY'VE BEEN SOFT IN MY MIND SHAKES THEM DO SOEMTHINGGGG--

OK BUT i can rant to you about this idea i have about niko being sick

I've mentioned in this post that Scarborough Fair is one of the song that Niko treasured most, if not THE most because it was one of the fondest things he have out of the hellhole that was THOTH so it's a melody he often repeat in any situation (that is not insomnia btw) that are emotionally heavy for him, such as anxiety, panic attacks, socially overwhelming situations so I often think about him humming the tune quietly to himself at night whenever he's particularly anxious and Wanderer just so happens to hear it while going out at night. It's sort of like a core memory for Wanderer, he never brought it up, he never even questioned it but the melody stayed in his mind because Niko is associated with it.

Now imagine if there's a day Niko get sick, Niko being sick is extremely rare, his immune system is very strong and he recovers exceptionally fast so when there are days where he gets a very bad fever, it made him anxious and jumpy cause he needs to do something or he'll end up laying there, stuck with his thoughts and lamenting over how worthless he is if he doesn’t do anything-- This is a problem that had happened before in the Fortress, Sigewinne has to constantly keep watch of him in case he sits up and do anything reckless, heck even Wrio has to tell him to lay back down and take turns to watch over him if Sigewinne is busy with other patients.

Of course since Niko is in Sumeru now, he doesn't have a lot of people that can look out for him except Mekal and Aarush (Aarush tried to ask for a day off but Niko assured him he's fine) so often than not he WILL find a way to do something and even sneaked out when Mekal was out in the market, but the Sumeru heat is harsh so it's not really a surprise he fainted in mid climbing, making all of his Meka shut down as he feels the fall below him, not able to open his eyes and waiting for his inevitable death....

... Only to wake up to a VERY angry Mekal, getting scolded left and right on how he could seriously have gotten hurt if it weren't for "that big-hatted, flying gentleman over there" while serving the exact tea said 'big-hatted, flying gentleman over there' liked (the only reason Mekal knows is because Niko bitched and complained a lot abt how bitter the tea was) on the table as he clicked his tongue and sit down on the left over space on the couch away from Niko's current resting head.

The moment Mekal turned away and back to the kitchen is when Niko tried to sit up again but was immediately get layed back down by Wanderer, who's at this point wasn't even trying to hide his anger at him cause-

"Fucking hell, if I didn't get there in time what do you think could have happened ?! Wretched being, your body is weak and it's going to break, you could've-" but he cut himself off at the last point, opting to tell Niko to take a rest now or he'll make sure both Aarush and Wrio knows about his little stunt today. As angry as it made him, Niko really doesn't have energy to fight back as he just grumble and lie back down with his face facing the back of the couch, no wanting to look at Wanderer at that moment.

The first few minutes weren't bad but as Niko lay on the couch with nothing to do and his mind free to wander through, he started to get anxious again, work usually takes his mind off of his rather degrading thoughts but now that he has no choice to work he had to lay there with his thoughts running, sleeping to him isn't easy either and even the loud noises in the kitchen isn't enough to drown out the thoughts. It isn't obvious then to him but he was hyperventilating, his breathing was starting to become ragged but by now his mind was already somewhere.

The change didn't go unnoticed by Wanderer, it's something he figured would happen because he had never seen Niko without doing his work or without something to distract himself from- then it suddenly hit him, that song he had heard Niko humming to himself before-- could it be...?

Without even a second thought, Wanderer turn Niko's head to the side before place his palm gently on his forehead-- cringing a bit at how much cold sweat there are but the barely noticeable tear line falling down from Niko's cheek that managed to escape out of the arm that was covering his eyes right now-- made him forget all about it as he begins to quietly sing the melody that Niko is so fond of.

The sudden music made Niko breathing stop for a second, taking in the melody as his breathing started to calm down, solely letting his focus back on the sound that was coming from above him. The sing voice was unfamiliar so Niko knows it wasn't from him and Mekal's voice is a little more robotic than the smooth sound that was singing right now. The realized was immidiate and by the time he realized, his breathing was stable again as all he can focus on was the lyrics of his childhood song.

A few second of silent passed after the singing stop before a small chuckle broke out, Niko can't help himself from laughing-- not because it was funny, but because he didn't expect to hear Wanderer at all. When he stopped laughing, Niko removed his arm and look up at Wanderer, his eyes tinted with something indescribable before going through on how the melody was off and that he got some of the lyrics was incorrect before proceed to sing it himself to demonstrate where he was wrong, Wanderer didn't even snap back or retort as he can see Niko was singing the song to himself as his voice was getting quieter before drifting off to sleep, a smile on his face as he finally get his sleep after 2 days...

I ENDED UP WRITING SO MUCH BUT EBFJEJFJDJDJFJEJF they got me acting silly oops tee hee twirl hair

[mercless]

the powder witch contemplates: ' y'ever wonder what it's like to die ? or maybe you know already , since you're so old and got whole libraries in your head . there's gotta've been stories of people like him , right ? died and came back ? they ever say what it's like ? ' a pause , quieter . ' must've not been so nice . if it had been , he'd talk more about it , right ? ' ' do demons like you even die ? sure go down , but — ' a wave of her hand , features pulling into grimace as she begins to regret having raised the topic to begin with . ' ... you know what i mean . ' @windchaser

Weary eyes watching that wavering horizon don't bother turning to the powder witch and her steed walking beside them. Her habit of musing any and everything on her mind was still taking the hellspawn some getting used to. But the deal that hung above them like a glinting blade on a sliver of thread - to be a guide and source of information to these fine folk looking to stop the inevitable - was one hell of a motivator to become quickly accustomed to this prolonged company. It isn't until Rell's words settle around them both, and the possibility they don't even grace her with a response arises, that Talon heaves a breath past their teeth. A tongue close behind the air brushes over the rows, attempting to dislodge that feather stuck in the back to little avail as their otherwise soundless march continues.

"'Libraries'… Bit of an exaggeration. I don't go lookin' for every poor souls story." An encyclopedia of tall tales, misquoted passages, and drunken ramblings felt more fitting a description for their collected knowledge. In their unbias, reliable opinion. "He's not the first gunslinger to ever return to the land of the living. Although, he's far from a revival like her intervention was..." A cough catches in their throat, but it's not long before their dry droll continues over the related tale. She could ask another time, if curiosity lingered.

"Death's been unreliable for a while now, but it wasn't ever the same for everyone either. I've seen it often enough to know what generally takes place." They decide to not state the obvious how, a small attempt to preserve the witch's current mood. Why would they care about such a thing… "When the souls left it's body, there's no more fear. No more joy or curiosity, no hunger for more. No more mortal woes."

"… Then there are those who don't go so quietly. Ghosts, cursed souls, those who've had their fate tampered with…"

A glance at the undead gunslinger bringing up the rear of their merry band is made over Talon's shoulder, giving away that the discussion was about him. It wouldn't be a surprise to Yone, though; when the young witch ever approached the demon, he was always in earshot. A hand ghosting a holster or sheath. "Our companion isn't one for many words, whether they be for recounting wonderous events, or hellish memories." A cant of their head lifts the wide brim of their hat enough for the two of them to meet the other's eye, if either of them wishes. The sun had fallen enough to not blind Talon, hiding behind the plated hindquarters of the metal beast keeping pace with them. There were plentiful reason for her to be on this doomed quest. They would like it to be revenge, but a nagging feeling of it not lasting as the sole reason dampens any potential fun. Something weak in their chest bemoans her to not give time to the thoughts of the beyond. But then, with everything so decayed around them, whatever else was there for a troubled mind to dwell on? "He has a reason for not movin' on. Maybe even he don't know it exactly. Could even change to something else he finds an' takes ahold of. Nothings gonna be gained if the truth is wrung out of him."

Blunt fingers scratch at the red scarf laid across their chest, trying to displace the sprouting growth tangling in the fabric's folds. Scraping the barrel on their knowledge of the beyond, and their half-baked hunches on the gunslinger, left only her last, uncomfortable question. A flash of teeth at the word 'down' was accidental, but the irony found in it pulled at blackened gums. Silently they wonder when they would see those caverns of endless torment and fire again, but it was something they could never share with a soul like hers. It's enough of an awakening from their ramblings to recall what their nature is. What they are. "Demons like me, don't go around kicking buckets." Talon's hunched posture straightens then, head turning over their shoulder as they speak clearly for everyone in the small posse.

"I'm sure you're both eager to find out what does happen, though."

[blacklegsanjiii]

Golden CH 3

Shanks snaps his head to Mihawk like a whip because they are. They've been friendly for years and he's told Mihawk all about Luffy when he would make calls from Foosha.

Sanji could feel the ship out in the ocean. Has his head tilted at the excitement coming from the ocean. Mihawk's in the castle and the ship is still a ways out so he bolts inside, running past the humandrills and through the garden. Mihawk shoots him a look as he runs to the kitchen.

“Someone's coming.” Sanji says and Mihawk nods.

“Go to your room and hide.” Mihawk orders and Sanji is off like lightning, his haki signature gone just as quick. Mihawk goes outside to the beach and recognises the jolly roger as Shanks. He hasn't seen Shanks in a couple years, not since their duel with White Beard and Marco as spectators.  He has not even thought of the man since Newgate was here a few months back. He's so busy with his boy - and when did he start thinking of Sanji as his? - that he hasn't done more than a few jobs recently for the Navy that didn't take him away for too long. But his little boat, Speed he thinks is the name, comes ashore and Mihawk nods at him.

“Hawkeye! Been a while!” Shanks crows as he stands on the boat. “Permission to come on land?” 

“Granted but not for long.” Mihawk answers as Shanks, Benn, Roux, and Yasopp come on land. They all nod to him as they make their way to the castle, the humandrills don't give them trouble even if Sanji did rile them up. “You've lost your hat.” 

“It'll be returned in due time.” Shanks smiles and he's holding himself oddly like he's hiding something and Mihawk's already noticed the arm of his coat flapping in the wind.

“I don't have time for a duel today.” Mihawk says and Shanks laughs.

“I'm in no shape to duel at the moment, we just got out of a skirmish and need a minute to reorganise, and your town isn't exactly kind to us.” Shanks points out.

“They aren't exactly kind to me either, Redhair. They hate the Navy more than me.” Mihawk points out. Shanks nods as they head inside. Most of the crew is doing menial work and repairing the ship. It's not exactly something they need to watch over as they plan a new course and with Mihawk being close by they thought to pop by.

Mihawk can't exactly signal to Sanji that lunch will be late as Roux takes over the kitchen to make enough for them and not include Sanji and Mihawk isn't going to deal with another Newgate fiasco.Shanks talks to him about his time in Foosha, of the boy he gave his hat to and Yasopp leaves in search of something or other and - 

Sanji is on the ground running and Yasopp is yelling and Mihawk is out the door. Benn following him quickly as Sanji speeds off and Yasopp yells nonsense out Sanji's bedroom window. Sanji is still hiding his haki and Benn is lagging behind and Sanji takes several turns and is gone.

“Fucking hell.” Mihawk spits as he looks around for any trace. Sanji is incredibly light footed though so his tracks are mostly meaningless as they don't really show turns or jumps or anything. And he weighs nothing, so that doesn’t particularly help his search. “Sanji, come out!” He calls and scans but Sanji is good at hiding and the island is full of hollows and nooks and crannies for the kid to hide in.

As long as he didn't upset the humandrills as he often did, anyway. Benn has his weapons out where as Mihawk, as a sign of civility dammit, left Yoru in the fucking castle. Benn doesn't bother putting them away either at the glare Mihawk shoots at him. 

“Sanji!” Mihawk calls again.

“Why the fuck are you yelling ‘three’?” Benn growls at him.

“It's his name, put those away, he's ten.” Mihawk seethes and Benn cocks an eyebrow as Yasopp and Shanks join them. Curiosity is all around him but there's nothing from Sanji. “Sanji!”

“What the hell did you do to scare a kid, you have one!” Shanks berates Yasopp.

“I smelled cigarettes so I investigated! It jumped out the window before I even got a good look at it!” Yasopp defends and Mihawk growls something unholy as Shanks looks around.

“Hawkeye, where the fuck is the kid's voice?” He asks as his hand rests on Gryphon.

“He’s exceptional with observation haki.” Mihawk answers and Shanks stares open mouthed at the man before going back to the branches.

“He's been training it for how long?” Benn asks.

“Five months.” Mihawk pans as just a flicker of Sanji comes through with anxiety, just a flash in the pan so Mihawk knows he's close and listening. “Sanji, come out.” 

“Are they safe?” A small voice calls from up in the trees. Shanks snaps his head to Mihawk like a whip because they are. They've been friendly for years and he's told Mihawk all about Luffy when he would make calls from Foosha. They've only just left Foosha a couple years ago and Mihawk has a brat now?

“Yes, they're safe.” Mihawk calls back and it's so quiet until they spot a mop of blond hair and a tiny boy climb down a tree. He runs to Mihawk and hides in his coat as he eyes the newcomers wearily. He's quiet all around Shanks notices and Benn holsters his gun and sword. Still no soul voice as Mihawk simply pats his head. “It's almost time for lunch.”

“He's ten?” Shanks asks for confirmation as he kneels to eye level with the boy who doesn't look it, he looks like Luffy did a couple years ago to him. Small and gangly and all limbs. The kid’s eyes are so blue and he’s small. So small Shanks wants to pick him up and throw him on his shoulders.

“Yes.” Mihawk glowers. “Let's get back,” he says to the boy, “do not run ahead. Roux is in the kitchen and he'll force feed you.” Mihawk finishes warning the boy and Sanji makes a face up at the swordsman as they start heading back. Shanks keeps a keen eye on the kid as they get back to the castle. 

“Roux, there's another mouth to feed!” Yasopp calls as they enter the castle and Sanji flinches and grips Mihawk as Roux meets them halfway to the kitchen.

“He looks like Anchor did!” Roux laughs as he bends down lightly. “Never took you for getting a brat.” He laughs at Mihawk next.

“Well it was either me or Redleg.” Mihawk mutters as they go to the kitchen. 

“So how did you get a kid?” Yasopp asks and Sanji stiffens noticeably which makes everyone snap their eyes to him.

“I found him and Zeff on a rock, they were there for eighty five days.” Mihawk says as he pats Sanji's head. “They're safe.” He reminds the kid and Shanks aches in a way that reminds him of Buggy and his over sensitive haki after the Edd War. After it all got so quiet and Buggy was sobbing against Captain. 

Sanji nods mutely as he doesn't move away. Just fists his hands that are bone wrapped in skin into the shirt Mihawk's wearing. Mihawk seems used to it. So used to it they move seamlessly together.

“Kid, why did you jump out the window?” Yasopp asks and the kid shrugs. He lets a flash of fear through before swallowing his soul voice again. 

“Well aren't you a prodigy with that soul voice of yours?” Shanks smiles at Sanji. “I haven't known someone who could hide like that in a while when so young.” 

“What are you feeding him?” Roux asks as he starts on another pot on the stove. 

“Food.” Mihawk pans and Shanks can see the barest hint of a smile from the kid. “The doctor in town gave us a diet that's mostly carbs and protein.”

Roux hums as he continues cooking. “He'll eat anything?” 

“Food is food.” Sanji says quietly and there's a pain in his words that echo within Shanks. Mihawk pats his head again and says something quietly that makes the boy leave and Shanks' eyes follow him the whole way. A few moments pass before Mihawk looks to Roux again.

“He only started eating properly once he was here, he doesn't eat like your anchor did or most kids. Whatever portion you’re thinking of giving him, half it.” Mihawk says to the cook and Roux scowls into the food he's making. Yasopp has anger swirling in his soul voice and Shanks does too but Benn is calm. All seeing in ways Mihawk and Shanks don't understand.

“He's too quiet.” Benn mutters.

“Newgate said the same thing.” Mihawk says and oh. 

“He didn't take him?” Shanks is shocked, White Beard will take kids left and right if unwatched.

“Marco wouldn't let him.” Mihawk answers. “Pulled Sanji out of his hiding spot the first time he hid his haki signature. He let it fall briefly and.” Mihawk gestures lazily then takes off his coat and hangs it on the hook near the doorway. 

“I'll kill him myself.” Shanks growls a hand on Gryphon again.

“I’m sure one day you will.” Mihawk responds. He doesn't explain further and Sanji comes back in thicker, warmer clothes and washes his hands as Roux starts plating. Mihawk gathers silverware and they all sit to eat and Sanji's plate is still piled too high and Mihawk knows it will be saved for later immediately. “How long until the ship is ready?”

“Couple more hours at the most.” Shanks answers. They all eat and Sanji is doing his best. Roux is a good cook, it's good food! It's just he can't eat like he's normal because he's not. “Getting full, Sanji?” 

“Yessir.” Sanji mumbles as he's pushing the food around on his plate and he's barely made a dent. Benn is smiling between bites.

“Well, he ain't Anchor or my kiddo.” Yasopp shakes his head. “It's okay kid, it can go in the icebox for later, alright?” 

“I did half it.” Roux defends himself and Mihawk rolls his eyes.

“I'm sorry, it is good. I-” Sanji starts quietly but Shanks puts his hand on Sanji's shoulder lightly. Sanji flinches reflexively so Shanks pulls away and raises his hand softly.

“If it's good and you'll eat it later and it won't go to waste then that's good enough for us.” Shanks smiles at the kid who nods. White Beard hadn't fought Mihawk to take the boy and make him his son which speaks volumes to how fucked the kid is to Shanks. Mihawk has already gathered the plate and is putting it away. 

“I can't believe Marco told Newgate ‘no’.” Yasopp says after a few minutes. 

“Isn't that the job of the first mate?” Mihawk asks back and Benn nods succinctly. “You can go, Sanji, it's alright.” And Sanji fucking bolts away and Shanks blinks after the kid.

“Can he show you his voice without showing us?” Shanks asks bewildered.

“I've had him for a year and half.” Mihawk responds as he sits back down to finish his plate. “I’d think I’d know the boy some by now.”

“Ten?” Shanks asks again. 

“I'll kill them.” Mihawk answers and Shanks grins.

“I want in when you do it.” Shanks says and Benn sighs. The long suffering sigh of controlling a captain who did whatever he liked.

[anxiefics]

Hello! I saw you wanted scara requests and there was one idea from @kichiyoshi I REALLY wanted to see done but I don't think anyone has done yet. So if you did I'd be very thankful.

(It's like their only post and I don't think tumblr would allow me to copy the whole thing)

: ̗̀➛ ib: @kichiyoshi !!

: ̗̀➛ synopsis: looks like you forgot your consciousness was connected to the balladeer's. oops?

: ̗̀➛ ft. scaramouche x reader

: ̗̀➛ cw: written before 3.3 quest, cursing

: ̗̀➛ this idea was so cute!! thanks for sharing yaya

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

after the time in pardis dhyai, you were even more wary of scaramouche, not that you weren't already on edge because of him. you were just barely keeping your.. rather interesting thoughts out of your head while he spoke to you, knowing that he could read your mind. you could still feel his ghost-like shadow over your shoulder, tickling your ear. maybe you're just delusional.

he's in a coma now, isn't he? you thought to yourself. serves him right. i do wonder if i can see him though...

after a long and hard day, you really wanted some eye candy. however, i don't know why you'd pick the balladeer of all people, not to judge your taste of course (like seriously, cyno has his chest on display. though maybe that's for tighnari?)

"hey, nahida!" you waved to the small god, who seemed to be pondering something, as per usual. she brightened up upon seeing your face.

"why hello, y/n. what brings you here?" nahida inquired.

"i would like to see scaramouche, if that's possible," you answered with a sheepish smile on your face.

"ah, he just woke up a few days ago. he's in this room here, but keep in mind that he is still a bit disoriented," she warned, leading you to the room on the left.

"thanks nahida, see you later!" you knocked on the door as the god went away to do godly things, you presumed.

a familiar, snarky face answered the door. ah, how you hate to love this guy. or love to hate, either way.

keep it cool, y/n. and that you did. though internally, you were screeching. looks like you forgot all about how his consciousness was connected to yours. his sheer bodysuit left little to the imagination (a more modest approach compared to cyno's), kimono fitting loosely around his lithe figure, like he couldn't be bothered to tie it properly. though he has gone through a shocking change (he's a good guy now, or so nahida says), he still had that "i'm better than you" air to him. you'd be lying if you said you didn't find him attractive.

okay, i know he was evil, but he's not anymore so i am free to gush over him right? how is he so hot but cute at the same time!?

scaramouche, or should i say the wanderer, was flabbergasted to say the least. you dare make such presumptuous comments about him, a puppet that rose to become a god? how absurd! he has half a mind to reprimand you about your behavior right now! ah, but he is quite intrigued by your thoughts (which did not match your face at all), so he'll let it slide for now. after all, he's in a good mood today. this motherfucker knows he's the shit.

"hm, awestruck by my presence already?" he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by how long you've been standing there, saying nothing, verbally at least. "a mere mortal like you should be."

"w-what? no! of course not! i'm just making sure you aren't trying to kill anyone again!" you sputtered, a feeble attempt at covering up your attraction.

archons, really! i wanna squish his cheeks! i bet they feel soft!

okay that was it.

"f-foolish human! do you not realize that i can very well hear your thoughts? you should watch what you think!" scaramouche tilted his hat down, hiding the red spreading on the cheeks you oh-so wanted to squish.

oh. oh shit. you'd forgotten all about that. to think you were so cautious before, cursing him out in your head, because no way you developed a crush on scaramouche. nuh-uh. all that hard work of denial and complaining had gone to waste, what a shame. what would the traveler think of you (not that they hadn't already known, and judged you for)? so, you thought of the next-best option in this worst-case scenario.

to run, of course.

you pushed his big-ass hat further down, hoping to disract him long enough to make your quick getaway. you bolted the hell out of there, your shoes clacking loudly against the tile floor. this way's probably the exit, right? you sprinted past a confused nahida, yanking open the double doors and yeeting yourself (not that you could fly) as far as you possibly could. which, was admittedly pretty far. you ran out of breath as you reached the edge of sumeru city, taking a few shortcuts to get there. you were doubled over on your knees, gasping for air like your life depended on it, which it did.

"ahem." oh hell no.

you looked up to a floating red-faced scaramouche, courtesy of his new anemo vision. venti really knows how to pick 'em, huh?

"dumbass." he seemed more flustered than you realized. "you did it again."

you laughed. "i'm not the one who looks like a tomato though!"

at that, he got even redder, if that was even possible.

"what's this? the almighty balladeer is embarrased?" you cooed, moving forward and dragging him down.

"shut up! you're the one with the weird thoughts!"

"and you're the one with the cute face!" you pinched his cheeks.

wow. they really were as soft as they looked.

[steeltraptrainer]

They can feel the time grow longer. They've been in the Dream for longer now. They're advancing though. And have been in this stupid ass village for ages.

"Momo, if I see one more dog with knives strapped to their jowls, I will scream."

"Same hat. But we're almost done here. Only that area over there left." Ferro turns his head slightly into Giacomo's direction at the other's words, smiling a little. His teeth seem sharper.

"Yeah. I hope getting whatever is waiting for us there will let us wake up at last." He exhales, then rubs at his eyes. They've been itching, and he hasn't had his glasses with him in Yharnam.

"Only one way to find out. Let's go."

---

The inside of the house is... eerie. And they feel watched. Ferro's eyes flit around, focus on the shape manifesting from the ground. Shadow. Ferro extends the burial blade, swings it wide. The siderite sings as it tears through the shadows, buries itself in an actual human's hide. Next to him, Giacomo revs up the whirligig.

---

It's two witches. And they are unfortunately obsessed with eyeballs. Ferro narrowly escapes the Mad Ones, swings the scythe wildly. One of the witches is hot on his tail, and he is not looking forward to seeing what they'd do if they get their hands on him. He has seen that rusty thing in their hands, and the eyeballs on their cloaks don't inspire confidence either.

Giacomo is doing pretty decent, all things considered. That saw is doing god's work, fast and terrible. And one of the witches goes down in a spray of blood he barely even notices anymore. What was a terror for him a month ago is just... work now. Blood is a fact of life for a hunter. Something to wash off afterwards. He turns, just in time to see Ferro entrapped by light. And the witch moving in. Sparks fly. A scream, two screams. And Ferro on the floor, holding a hand over one of his eyes.

"Ferro, are you alright?" Neither of them even notices the Insight accumulating. A glassy eye focuses on Giacomo, its owner woozy.

"I... I don't feel okay. My right... I don't think that eye's left." He doesn't move his hand from the wound. "Why's it always my fucking eyes? Isn't it enough I'm Deaf already?"

"Beats me. Let's light the lamp and see what's down in the basement. Or do you want to go back to the Dream already?"

"I... yeah, I think I will. Don't get hurt, Momo."

---

The blood disappears under his hands as the Dream envelops Ferro. The pain... does not. Not fully. He grits his teeth and stumbles over to the Doll, slides down on the ground near her.

"Hey Miss Doll..." He looks up at her weakly. "I think I don't like Hemwick very much." She gently moves his hand away when he looks at her, and freezes for a moment at the sight.

"Oh, good Hunter..." Her thumb lingers at the edge of Ferro's eye socket. "Yes, I can see why you would not. I cannot help you with recovering it in full. What I can do is help you bandage it until the Dream mends it. Until the Insight compensates." The Doll sounds so gentle.

"That... that'd be nice. Is it bad?"

"No more than any other wound you have received. This too shall pass. Allow me to help. You are not the first hunter to lose an eye."

"Let's hope he stays the last for a while..." Giacomo mutters, having manifested into the Dream in full just before the Doll had spoken. "Sorry for not being fast enough, Ferro."

"Ah, you did what you could. Just glad I didn't die. I don't like the feeling of that."

"No shit. Just... I hope we can get out and home for a bit."

"You two would deserve it." The Doll looks up at them both, carefully finishing her work. "Might I ask something of you two? Would you be so kind to bring me more books, should you return to your home?"

"Of course!" Ferro smiles at her, the thing crooked and uneven. "No problem at all. I'm glad you like the books so far." They could absolutely do that when

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