#except against a sword but :/ we ignore that

[chernabogs]

Gonna be real any time I think of Lilia & Meleanor & Levan/Raverne's relationship I think of that Will Smith and Jada meme except Lilia & Levan/Raverne are Will and Meleanor is Jada

[curseofaphrodite]

prisons & prophets

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!prophet!reader

Oracles were only admired if they were royalty. For a merchant's daughter like you, prophetic claims came with marks of a heretic and "burn at the stake" threats.

You coughed up dust when you were pushed onto the stone floor. There was silence around you, one that seemed more curious than haughty.

You carefully looked up to see Queen Rhaenyra, who looked as if you were a dead lion that just fell from the sky.

"What is the meaning of this?" There was fury and familiarity behind those words, and you groaned as you registered Jacaerys Velaryon in the room. He had his eyes trained on the guards and was intentionally ignoring yours.

Great.

"She's a witch!" The first guard yelled, sounding like he had a personal vendetta against you. It might had something to do with how you kicked his balls earlier to try to be freed from him, but you weren't sure.

Daemon Targaryen laughed. The sound made you look around the room properly. Daemon and Rhaenys were seated opposite each other, both looking more intimidating than the other. There were at least five guards around the room. But perhaps the most intimidating of them all was Rhaenyra herself, who looked fierce and gentle all at once. She gave off a godlike aura, which had you half tongue-tied. Jace stood a few paces in front of her.

"A witch?" She asked, almost exhausted. "How is she a witch?"

"She's from Driftmark—" a second guard said, sounding more civil than the last.

"That explains it," Darmon interrupted, smirking at Rhaenys. The latter rolled her eyes.

"Daughter of a merchant who migrated from Westeros three years ago. Her stepmother wrote to us saying there is a witch in her family, and presented us with enough information that we had no choice but to act."

"I'm not a witch," you sneered. The first guard kicked you down to the floor.

"Silence!" He yelled; and you felt rage and humiliation rising tenfold.

When you could look up again, everyone was staring at Jace. He had his sword out, pointed directly at the chin of the guard. Everyone was appalled. Everyone except Daemon, who looked proud.

"You will not treat a lady with disrespect in Queen's court ever again, or you'll be dismissed," he said plainly.

The guard seemed to calm down considerably. "Yes, my prince."

The prince in question did not look satisfied, but he put away his sword. It went without saying that he still hasn't spared a glance towards you.

"What's this information that convinced you she was a witch?" Rhaenyra asked, skeptical.

As the third guard brought your scrolls forward, you knew you were doomed.

"My stepmother just wanted to ask the palace for money in my exchange!" You cried out. "I'm not a witch!"

No one seemed to have heard your protests. The guard gave the scrolls to Rhaenyra, who took some and gave the rest to her husband. Daemon opened them, his interest evident.

"These are just drawings," Rhaenyra turned the paper upside down, as if they'd make more sense that way. Jace looked as if he wanted to spare a glance, but he hesitated and stood his ground.

"They're her predictions," the first guard answered, almost hissing. "It speaks of many things... including Lucerys Velaryon's death." Rhaenyra paled at the words. You knew the wound about her son was still fresh, and you instantly felt sorry for her. "If she had a hand in his death—"

"I didn't."

"Then it was a concern to not chain her," he finished, triumphant. "Should I bring her to the dungeons, Your Highness?"

Rhaenyra thought for a while before answering. "This seems like not enough proof to force upon a conviction on someone. These scrolls could mean anything—"

"Apologies, Your Grace, this needs immediate attention." Maester Gerardys burst through the doors with a message in his hands. He ignored you, the guards, the scrolls — as if none of it was remotely comparable to what he was going to say.

"Jaehaeyrs Targaryen is dead."

Silence filled the room once again. You felt like you were invading a moment you shouldn't be in. But if Maester saw you, he didn't think you enough of importance so he went on.

"Decapitated... They think you ordered them to do it! That's the news spreading through the streets anyway."

"Me?" Rhaenyra looked surprised at the implication.

"Two," Daemon spoke up, his face buried in the scrolls. Your scrolls. Everyone stared at him.

"What?"

"There are two sketches of funeral pyres. Both look small enough to be children's." Daemon met your eyes. "One has the Velaryon crest, and one has the Targaryen crest."

You closed your eyes, sighing.

--

Even though the dungeon was dark and uncomfortable, you fell asleep the moment dusk arrived.

You weren't even surprised when you dreamt of him; A vegetable stall, and a boy.

A teen with dark hair and brown eyes, seemingly dressed down from the rest of the royals. Even then, his fabric was finer than anything you've ever seen. If disguise was what he was going for, he hadn't done it right.

"Would you like some apples?" you asked on behalf of your father, who was sleeping in for the day. Who could blame him? You were tired in the scorching heat, and it hadn't even been three hours since you started.

"Uhm, yes please. How much for them?"

You named your price and he frowned.

"Am I supposed to bargain?" He asked, blinking.

This earned a laugh. "Don't your servants usually do the shopping?"

There was a pause and he paled under your daring gaze. "How did you-"

"You're wearing a Targaryen ring."

"Who's to say it's not a stolen relic? Or fake?"

"If it was stolen, you wouldn't parade it around in daylight."

"I would if it meant pretty girls mistaking me for the Prince."

"—and if it's fake," you continued, ignoring his comment. Men flirting was as common as fruits rotting. It often had nothing to do with who they were talking with, and more about getting abed. "The guards confiscate any fake things made in the name of the Crown."

"Fine, you caught me," he sighed, taking the ring off and dropping it inside his clothes. "There. I'm off Prince duty now."

"Jacaerys!" A guard with long, dark hair and a matching beard seemed relieved at the sight of the Prince. The latter groaned. You were curious about why he wasn't addressed with formalities. You hadn't guessed there would be friendships between the royals and those who served them. "What have I told you about running off?"

"I thought my younger brother could use a one-on-one with you. I've already mastered my swordsmanship."

"Hardly!" The guard scoffed, then noticed you. "Forgive us miss, we've a long way off the castle so you'll excuse us now."

You were reeling from how polite they both sounded. You nodded curtly. The guard might as well have dragged the Prince by his arms.

"I'll come for the apples another time!" Jacerys yelled behind his shoulders.

And he did.

Again and again.

He soon confided in you that the guard gave him and his brother private lessons in an abandoned ground outside the town, and that it was the reason for his frequent visits. The guard soon warmed up to you too, and he was positively in love with the grapes you sold. He told you his name was Ser Harwin Strong. Jace said others called him Breakbones. You didn't know why because the man had the gentlest eyes.

Then one day, both of them just stopped coming.

No explanation, nothing. It was like they never existed.

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

"Wake up, the Queen wants to see you." The keepsman said, nudging your shoulders. You scrambled to your feet, eyes blinded by the fire lamps lit all around.

Before you could so much as adjust your hair, Rhaenyra briskly walked in. She nodded her head and the guards left the room, closing the wooden door behind them.

"Good wishes, Your Grace." You wanted to look down to the floor, but you couldn't keep your eyes off her. She was wearing black robes with red stones that carved into an intricate design, which looked suspiciously like a dragon tail. She sat down on the makeshift bed, her fingers intertwined.

"You can be honest with me."

You blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"I wouldn't hang you or — burn you in a stake," she said firmly. "You can tell me the truth, any and all of it."

"You believe in magic?" you were bewildered.

"In a kingdom ruled by dragons, magic isn't far off the table."

"I'm not a witch," you said, almost stumbling over your words. She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not — I don't know what I am. Someone... something is talking through me. It does the sketches, not me. I'm a spectator to whatever I'm drawing."

Rhaenyra looked like she wanted to interrupt when you started sounding more panicked. But you paid her no heed.

"I say it's nonsense all the time. True, I predicted the storm two summers ago but how was I to know a vision of a tree in the middle of the ocean had any impact on what went above it? Isn't that just pure idiotic?"

"Y/N—"

"A vision once told me I would get married to a red boar, for fuck's sake!"

"Red boar?"

"Another time I saw a goose looking in a mirror and then killing itself. Don't know what that means either, do I?!"

The Queen reached for your hand, bringing you back from the evergrowing spiral inside your head. You realized you were gasping for air.

"You don't have to have all the answers," she said consolingly. "It wasn't fair of me to ask that much."

You nodded, calming down. "Thank you."

She stood up. "I'll make sure you're given dinner after your next visitor."

"Next?"

"How do you know him, I wonder?" she met your eyes questioningly. "My son?"

"I don't," you replied, just as fast. She didn't look one bit convinced but nodded anyway. Then she left without another word.

Jacaerys came in right as she left. He was wearing a different set of robes, but the vest looked the same. His hair had gotten even messier, which you didn't think was possible. Suddenly, you were aware of what you wore. All you had was your white nightgown, which you were still wearing when you had been forced out of bed.

"I want you to be one of the council advisors," he stated, all business-like.

"Uhm, what?"

"You're a prophet," he sat down where Rhaenyra did, though he looked more uncomfortable about it. "You're an asset."

You snorted. It was very much like a royal family to say something like that. "I'd disagree, Your Grace."

"You don't have to do the titles." Then he noted how you looked mad. He sighed. "I'm sor-"

"I'm sorry about your brother," you interjected, and sadness filled his face. But he ignored your comment and looked at his hands instead. He still had the Targaryen ring, along with a few other new ones. You frowned at one of them in particular, but he spoke before you look longer at it.

"Ser Harwin Strong was my father."

So much about the sentence had you in surprise, but only one mattered above all others.

"Was?"

"He died two days after the last time I visited you," he nodded. "Which is also why I never came again. Foul play was suspected in his death, but never confirmed. They found a new guard for me, one who trained me inside the palace walls."

"I'm sorry." You didn't know what else to say.

"I missed you everyday, if that counts."

You smiled. "It does."

"And that skill of yours? Seeing future? Do not push it down." His voice was firm. "Control it. No matter what you think, it's a power. And whoever gave you that power wouldn't have given it to you if they thought you couldn't handle it."

Now you really didn't know what to say.

"I'll have you transferred to a room. A nice one with a view out to the sea." He promised, standing up. "That is, if you agree to my offer to be an advisor."

"And my stepmother?"

"She's banished from the castle, of course. Not a coin given, even though what she gave us is invaluable. She just didn't know it."

"Oh, please." You laughed.

"I hope I'll see you soon, Y/N," Jace said wholeheartedly, noting how his visit was coming to an end. As he stepped out of the dungeon, you were still thinking about his words.

And also his ring, specifically the one that had a tusked animal carved on it, entirely out of pure ruby.

In other words, a red boar.

THE END

-----------

some notes

Ser Harwin dies wayyy earlier but I tweaked the timeline to be aligned here.

the goose killing its reflection prophecy was reference to Halaena's drawings.

which speaks about Erryk and Arwyn's deaths. Goose is their crest.

I'm not sure if I should continue this story 'cause it holds up good on its own as a oneshot! But if you'd like, you can drop ideas for the continuance of this fic or other new jace fics @ my asks!

ty for reading and here's my coffee page if you want to support me :)

[bitchimasnake-sss]

Hey so can we get some zoro, law, kid, and Luffy (because why not) with bratty!reader (I think Luffy in this situation would be interesting)

i wish i could write kid. i wish. but i cannot. it saddens me deeply every night and every morning and all the hours in between. but other than that, you've got it chief 🫡 enjoy your filth mwuah <3

🌙thinkin' about: the monster trio, ace n' law! vs BRAT!

ALEXA PLAY THE ENTIRE BRAT ALBUM BY CHARLI XCX. 'S TIME FOR A BRAT THEMED POST. [NOT PROOFREAD, OKAY? OKAY.] cw: pussydrunk men. bratty reader. nsfw thoughts include: idk man they fuck you, so, penetration, fingering, cunnilingus, blowjob, they're very cock(y) hahaha. MDNI OR YA BETTER SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN TONIGHT. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: doesn't that excite ya?

❤️who even is monkey d. luffy if he doesn't enjoy a little bit of a challenge? so, go on. try to rile him, tease him, trying to make him bend to your whims and wishes. it's all things he enjoys, afterall. thoroughly, at that. ❤️you scoff, arms trained against your chest as if to tempt him with the lewd display, "like i said, go alone. i don't wanna visit the island with you." luffy grins, something free and boyish, "but it'll be boring without you, y'know that, right?" you try to shake him off, try to really shake off his arms snaking around your waist as he pulls you to him. he face drops down to your pulse, hot n' humid breath dancing against the light heartbeat in a sickening manner. ❤️ his arm tightens around you and his teeth nips against your skin dangerously, as if the captain of your ship was betting his sanity on your next words. but again, don't you love to rile him up? "t'wasn't boring when you were ignoring me?" you huff breathily, trying to push him away with a pathetic shove that just makes him laugh, "that? i was busy this morning, peach." "stay busy with ussop, then. go kiss him while you're at it, idiot." you push him again, trying to rid yourself of your clingy man. he just sniffs in the lingering scent of your sweet shampoo. then sighs into you, "you just love making me chase you, dont'cha?" "okay, then." his voice deepens, as if he just got the answer to your tantrum right now. arms stretching against you to hold you tightly to his chest, picking you up easily just to throw you on the bed, "wha- luffy!" your body recoils against the cushiony mattress as you stare up at the raven-headed boy, but he just grins at your momentarily immobile state, "what? let me make it upto ya, c'mon." ❤️now that luffy has you moaning into the pillow, rutting back into him so very helplessly; your voice worn out from the screaming, your hands fisting unforgivingly against the linen under you and your body aching from his unfaltering movements, he better not hear any more whines from you, brat. "d-did i make it up to, yet?" his voice climbs up a octave, all breathy and high as you spasm around his dick, "s- hah seems like you're having the time of your life— ngh, pretty girl."

🍀roronoa zoro: professional marine hunter brat tamer!

💚don't be fooled, roronoa zoro loves when you get like this. this means you get all pouty, all huffy, all annoyed at all his usual tactics. this means you're gonna try to get back at him until he has your face pressed down into the mattress as he fucks into you from behind. yeah, zoro loves this. 💚"say that again." the swordsman hums, "what was that?" "i said if you love your swords so goddamn much, go fuck 'em instead." and the man rolls his eyes in response, "was training then. i'm here now, aren't i? whatd'ya want, woman?" you huff, averting your sharp gaze from him, "nothing." and he knows this conversation like the back of his hand. the same dialogues imprinted into his head, the same gameplay, the same cat-mouse chase that's gonna end with your pretty, glossy lips wrapped around his cock. 💚"still nothing?" zoro hums, half-serious, except for the fact that he his hips piston into your warm, inviting mouth. your nails dig into his thighs, eyes looking up at him, pleading. and though zoro isn't benevolent, he pulls his erection backwards till it rests heavily against your bottom lip, "think you can speak clearly now? wanna tell me why exactly are you behaving like a fucking brat?" "s-shut up." you hiss and he hums satisfactorily at the rasp in your easy-going tone, "ah," he nudges the tip past your lips and you open just like you were waiting for him to do that, "seems like you need a little more to start sayin' what's on your mind." you hum against his dick. words reduced to nothing but primal sounds as he pushes his hips into your with purpose. he pushes into you as his tip hits the back of your throat so sinfully, and the man above you groans, "a-ah, fuck. forgot how good you take me." 💚he groans similarly, his broad hands tangling in your sweaty locks as he guides you over his cock. his hips snap faster, eyebrows furrowing in sheer concentration and soon enough, the familiar salty liquid slides down your throat. you're spluttering as he pulls his weeping cockhead backwards. as you look up at him; a divine mess of sweat, cum and your tears, zoro cannot help but quip up, "think you can speak now?" "f-fuck... you." you rasp and the swordsman guides you upwards through the iron-grip he has on your hair, "looks like you can't yet, brat. in that case, let me help."

🌊vinsmoke sanji: what if i just shut you up real, real good?

💙vinsmoke sanji was nobody if not a defender of womens' rights and wrongs. he would never even dream to shut you up but oh lord, maybe this one time will be the exception. maybe. 💙"no, i don't wanna." you huff the same sentence out again and sanji swears he almost pulls you to the bed to fuck some sense into you. he tries again, "my love, you gotta eat." "i don't have to do anything you say." you hiss, eyes narrowing at the overworked chef, "don't tell me what to do after flirting with that shopkeeper." "i just made polite chit-chat—" he really tries to defend himself but you roll your eyes, pouting at the same explanation he's given five hundred times over, "save it." ofcourse, what other route did he have other than to remind you with his actions that you were the only brat he was entertain? 💙"believe me now?" sanji mumbles momentarily, parting your thighs with his skilled hands as he experimentally sticks out his tongue to collect your honeydew on the tip, "mhm, divine." "thi-this doesn't get you off the n— hook." your head is thrown back, lips parting as he pulls you down on him completely and delves his experienced muscle into your opening. the cook hums as if he's experiencing nirvana through you and your taste, and you just grind down at him in return. "that's right—" the blonde hums, his fingers digging deeper against your plushy fat on your hips, "let me have it all, darling." "y-you're so lame, s-sanji!" your voice jumps up several octaves as he brings his tongue to your neglected clit. flicking it, he soothes the mean action with a soft lick, completely forgetting if he were to reply you. 💙it isn't till your fourth shuddering orgasm that has sanji drenched under you that you really start begging him to stop, "s-sanji, no." "what?" the man grins, his blonde stubble catching the dew against them as he looks at you, "believe me now?" "y-yes." you nod furiously as your cunt clenches around air, overtsimulated and exposed, "i-i am, i pr-promise ah, ah!" "good," the chef smiles at you so innocently, his thumb gently pressing against your throbbing clit, "let's make sure you keep that promise, love. right?"

🦋portgas d. ace: i want in on it, baby!

🧡see, you think you can be a brat? hah, no way. not while your boyfriend, portgas d. ace exists. see, how can you be the brat if he's playing along with you? 🧡ace coos, his muscular arms tucked behind his head as he pouts, "my baby's not gonna talk to me? why not?" "go ask the other crew-mates, since youmarc-oh." your jaw slacks open, lips falling into an 'o' as ace humps his short-clad pelvis into your core. he smirks, taking in your appearance, "sorry, didn't quite catch that. ask who?" "ace, you asshole! i... ah—" you whine, hips stuttering pathetically over his pelvis as you try to find even a hairsbreadth of friction. the man underneath just seems to enjoy your dilemma thoroughly, though. are you gonna stay pouty n' mad or are you gonna bat your eyelashes down at him and ask him to fuck you?? 🧡seems like the the former. "'m not gonna exp-explain mysel-f! fuck off." your head lolls backwards at his mean thrust against you. you two are in the same position you were hours back; his arms wrapped around your waist, his clothed erection against your wettened patch of cloth, and his unyielding rolls against your wet cunt. wasn't it as brutal to him as it was for you?! "really?" ace's eyebrows furrow and he scoffs, somewhat impressed with your resilience, "pretty, i don't think you understand. i can do this for hours." and from the way he smiles all dopey and satisfactorily, you don't doubt his words. not at all. you huff, erratic eyes falling on the easy-going man under you, "wh-what do you want, ugh?!" "i just want my pretty-" his thumb swipes across your parted, bottom lip, "pretty girl to tell me what she wants without being a bitch about it." "i want nothing." you huff, unyielding even as ace gives you a pointed look. he draws in a sharp breath, eyes hardening with resolve, "okay then, looks like i'd have to fuck it out of you, then." he grins as he shifts your weight and pins you down, "not that i'm complaining, obviously." it's only after he has had you cumming on his dick the third time that you babble out, hiccupping, "y-you're always so busy, ace. i don' like it." "awh, that's it?" the man above you speaks softly even as he presses his fingers together to squish your cheeks, "should've told me, gorgeous. i would've taken care of it way sooner." and maybe, maybe you were imagining things in your delirium or ace has this sadistic glint in his eyes as he says his next words, "good thing i can just make it upto ya, isn't it?"

🪻trafalgar d. water law: not his first rodeo, nor his last.

💜see, technically, you should be grateful that your boyfriend: trafalgar law even put up with you despite his rising blood pressure and headaches. does that mean you'd be nice to him? no. not when being a brat is sooo much more fun. 💜"law-ugh" the two words blend seamlessly as you stare down your boyfriend and he peers up at you through the rim of his glasses, "what now?" "would it kill you to hang out with me, huh?" you huff, taking a seat in front of his desk as you pout at him. you try to bat your eyelashes, only for it to be in vain as the doctor focuses on those wretched paperwork in front of him again. he sighs, "i wouldn't phrase it so strongly, but something like that." "law!" you whine and he almost smiles. almost. "i'm busy right now, i'll see to you later, okay?" "no, law, you always do this!" your hands come down hard on the wooden table and a rattle shakes through the room at your outburst. everything seems just a teensy bit strained, everything except law. he just looks up at you eerily calm, "throwing a tantrum, are you?" "maybe...?" your words stagnate on the tip of your tongue. but as you see law lean back in his seat, the metallic rim of his glasses catching the overhead lighting so maliciously, you smile. bingo. "'s not a tantrum, captain. jus' being honest." 💜 well, that honesty was getting fucked out of you right now. your wrists tied to the arm of his seat, your thighs parted open and his skillful fingers curling within you as your eyes rolled. ugh, that honesty was long gone. "are you done?" law asks so casually, as if he wasn't fucking your gummy walls till you writhed helplessly against the leather, "are you done throwing a tantrum?" "not. a. tantrum." you hiss, trying to sound more put-together than you actually were. and who were you trying to fool? the doctor who could tell from your reddened face and panting, quivering lips just how utterly wrecked you were? "alright, if you insist." law speaks again, unhurried as he pulls his drenched fingers outwards. your essence shines against his long digits as he passes it past your wobbling lips, "guess i'd have to try another way." you hear his belt chime as he draws it open, "ready, brat?"

a/n: tumblr literally posted this halfway without my concern so this is me re-posting it. if you saw that, then, NO you didn't. shut up. go back to reading smut. shhh, it never happened. taglist: @mist-ixx @starlightanyaaa @otkuhotgirl @bokutosbiceps @kingofthe-egirls m.list

[komoboko]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐨 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝

ft: tanjiro kamado, zenitsu agatsuma, inosuke hashibira, kanao tsuyuri, genya shinazugawa

Genlas canon I’m ufotable so what if I made a kny oc bcs of genya 🗣️ ・ignore how half of these are about sleep

# tanjiro ! ☆

TANJIRO is such a sweetheart, he really is. But when it comes to sticking to a schedule, he does not make any shortcut or excuses to what will happen. Whatever the schedule says goes no ifs ands or buts. Thankfully he only uses a morning routine anyways.

He had heard from both Rengoku and Mitsuri that having a morning schedule is very good to prepare you for the day. So tanjiro has one to! He tries to get you to follow the routine along with him but you would rather stay in bed instead..

The moment the sun begins to rise is the time Tanjiro wakes up as well. It’s almost as if his body had a set in clock to wake him up. He already gets himself up before he comes and “pesters” you, who is still sound asleep when he’s ready to start the day. Tanjiro only pokes your cheek trying to get you to wake up.

You only groan turning your body over as you already know what he’s waking you up for. “Tanjiro I don’t even think the sun is up yet..” you mumble putting a pillow over your head. Tanjiro only silently laughs before replying “That doesn’t mean we can’t wake up either, if we don’t go fast we’re going to miss our time to train before leaving!” He only flashes a beaming smile, you wished to see that smile in your dreams right now instead.

# zenitsu ! ☆

If he had to be honest ZENITSU is unironically really clumsy. Sometimes he’s doing it to get a laugh out of you, but other times he’s genuinely falling. He can’t help it! It used to be something that happened every now and then but it’s almost become more of a habit of his now.

Even if everybody knows he really is just clumsy, if your around without fail he’ll try to play it off like it was on purpose. If your around and he’s already mid fall he’s going to try and stick the landing to make it seem like he was being funny and just doing it on purpose. Other times when it’s too late to cover up his mistake he tries to cover it up with a cheesy pick up line.

You’re only sharpening your sword, admiring the peace until it’s disrupted once again. You can hear a very familiar voice chanting your name as the voice only grows closer and closer. You turn around to see zenitsu rushing towards you after turning a corner, and from what you can tell he has a couple of flowers in his hand.

It’s only when he gets closer is when he somehow manages to trip on whatever was in his path. He comes tumbling towards you as you rush to his aid only to see him quickly put a rose in his mouth. He stares at you with a prideful gaze as you bite back a laugh. You can’t hold it in anymore once he screams howling something along the lines of “THE ROSE POKED ME!!”

# inosuke ! ☆

Sleeping around INOSUKE is no fun at all. He normally has a lot of energy so staying up late is a given, if you manage to actually fall asleep before he does your lucky. If he even manages to get tired and get close to a bed you’re doomed.

When inosuke is asleep there is nothing that is going to wake him up except himself. He is stone cold asleep meaning whatever he does do in his asleep is a complete ball game to deal with. It’s obvious that he is going to be uncomfortably loud, but he really handsy and not in the romantic way at all..

You groan on the edge of the bed as the cold air breezes against you, an hour before you were very much comfortable in the bed, alone at least. The moment inosuke toppled into bed was when everything came to an end. He took all the blankets for himself, he sprawled out taking up most of the space, and did this all while asleep already.

Not to mention the fact he was almost louder than when kyojuro when he’s talking whenever he snores. Every other moment the room rattles with how loud he is. To the point where you get so fed up you grab the one pillow you can find and move to sleep on the couch. It was much easier falling asleep on the couch, the only problem is when you woke up you find inosuke still completely asleep on top of you.

# kanao ! ☆

A lot of people don’t realize that KANAO can be unusually blunt. Around you she feels more open to speak her mind about something and without realizing it. Her words can come out much more harsh than she had originally intended it.

When she’s around you she’s much more careful at watching her tongue, as she obviously does not wish to hurt your feelings. Which she is really good at!! But if you ask for honest criticism she can’t say that she won’t hold back even on you.

You stare at kanao’s paper as she continues to sketch the treeline in the window Infront of the both of you. You’re impressed by her eye for art and even wonder if she could give you some tips as well. It’s not like you haven’t been practicing after all! “Kanao? Would you mind giving me some tips on how to improve my drawing? Honest criticism please.” You ask the girl as she turns to you. Kanao stares down at your drawing seeing what she believes is a samurai down on your paper.

She looks up back at you taking a deep breath before saying, “well your drawing isn’t near accurate to what time period I assume you’re going for. The proportions are off, the armor plates aren’t in the right place, the blade is incorrect, the legs aren’t even or balance the upper body.” Your jaw drops as kanao only looks back at you putting a hand on your shoulder. “I could help you if you like.” She hopes this would make up for shock she put on your face

# genya ! ☆

While GENYA can normally keep things together, there are times where he doesn’t keep track how long he has been a demon. It’s rare considering he normally on a mission for this to ever really happen, but it doesn’t mean it hasn’t.

The mission had gone well to say the least but everything had gone on for so long. Task after task, minute after minute Genya had become more weary and more irritable. By the time he was actually released he couldn’t care about anything except going to bed. On the plus side it would mean he could see your face as well.

When he finally made it to the inn you to we’re staying at he didn’t think twice about immediately moving towards the bedrooms. He failed to see his reflection or acknowledge how loud his footsteps were moving around the house. You groggily open your eyes startled awake by the incoming noise, you don’t remember anybody staying with you. Not until a shadow peers through the doorway.

You turn around to see yellow eyes stand out from the dark hallway. They pierce menacingly almost into the room your in, slowly creeping closer in the dark. Naturally you scream but your surprised when the figure screams to. It stumbles around the room until it can see its own reflection. It’s only then when you realize it’s just genya who didn’t even realize he was a demon himself. He only mumbles out a small “ohh..” before climbing into bed to try and trying to apologize to you..

[feyascorner]

9 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. Rather than taking offense, he merely smiles. “You’re so harsh, love.”

“I wouldn’t be harsh if you didn’t deserve it.”

“I’m aware.” His voice lowers. “Though I rather like it when you’re cruel to me.”

You blink. 

Has he always looked at you like this?

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. officially in act 2 so there's like a few weeks of a timeskip!!!! finally getting to that blurry line between hatred and...wtv they are

also praying the tags work this time

“Wake up,” you whisper. “Wake up, Astarion.”

His body shakes as you pull him closer to your chest, ignoring how cold his skin feels against yours. There’s nothing out here except the two of you and the blissful gaze of the moon glimmering against all the other stars in the sky. Here, it’s as if nothing else exists.

Yet, the nightmares continue to haunt him.

“Cazador, he’ll come for us. He’ll come for you. He’ll make me watch as you die and laugh at my agony before he tosses me into that damned prison again for another year. Maybe even more,” he rasps. “Gods, you were so–there was so much blood—your blood—and all I could smell was–”

You shush him, running your hand through white curls. The sensation seems to calm him just the slightest. “He’s not here. I’m alive, and so are you. See?”

Gently, you raise his palm to where your heart rests and wait patiently for him to come back to you again. He melts into the steady thumping of your heart, shoulders slowly relaxing. It takes some time, but eventually, his panting slows, and he slumps into your touch. When you pull him close again, he shakes his head.

“I’ll kill him for what he’s done to me and what he could do to you.”

You answer him by intertwining your fingers with his own. In response, he tightens his arms around your waist.

“I’m going to love watching him scream.”

Crashing onto the ground does little for your already trembling knees.

“Again.”

Weeks have passed since your last uncomfortable encounter with Astarion, and you’d much prefer to keep it that way. And while things have mostly smoothed over with your companions, the obvious issue of the spawn remains a concern, though the murders have decreased significantly in passing times. You’re grateful there aren’t as many bodies, but it also makes you wonder what’s preventing them from killing as many as they did. Fear it, even.

Lae’zel’s wooden sword wipes you off your feet again, and you land face-first into the grass. Embarrassment floods your cheeks despite there being nobody else in the park.

“You’ve gotten rusty, istik.”

Clambering onto your knees, you grip your own sword to stabilize yourself. “Are you sure you’re not the one who’s gotten significantly better?”

“Flattery won’t save you on a battlefield, bard.”

“‘Was-bard,’” you correct her, using the sword to bounce back onto your heels. “And I think it’s saved us more than a few times. Remember that time I persuaded Yurgir to kill all his friends before we killed him?”

“A silver tongue has no use if the enemy is deaf,” she lunges at you, and you barely manage to stumble out of the way.

You hiss. “Why the hell would I be fighting a deaf enemy? And can you please warn me before you try to stab me?”

“There are no warnings in a real battle.”

“We’re not in real battle!”

She ignores you and lunges once more without warning.

You land on your ass again and again until you’re sure there’s a nasty bruise on half of your legs. There’s not enough time to register the soreness spreading to your knees, however, because by the time you’re up, she’s already coming at you again. It’s hopeless, you think, blocking another attack. Just as you’re about to give up and admit defeat, you see an opportunity in her stance. Seemingly laid back with how miserably you’re failing, you take it as a weakness and practically pounce at the opportunity to launch at her in return for your own bruises.

By some miracle, it lands.

She doesn’t fall as pathetically as you did, but she stumbles.

“Have you lost your touch, Lae’zel?”

You whip your head around to the voice where Shadowheart is under the shade of a tree, a letter gripped in her fingers. She paces closer to you and your opponent, raising a brow at the state you’re in. “Was it really necessary to beat them so harshly?”

“It worked, didn’t it? They managed to hit me,” Lae’zel scoffs, a hint of pride in her tone.

“Well, as wonderful of a time it is to watch you fight one another like beasts,” Shadowheart rolls her eyes, lifting the letter. “Tav and I need to get new clothes tailored, it seems.”

Lae’zel snatches the letter before you can take a look, her eyes scanning over the words before shooting to you. “A celebration?”

“A ball, more like,” the cleric steals the sheet right back, handing it to you. “In our honor, of course, for defeating the elder brain. About time we received something in return.”

You only briefly glance at the words printed on the letter. “This is too much.”

Both heads turn to you inquisitively. “I thought you’d be ecstatic for something like this. I recall you always used to sing about the songs people would make about your adventures.”

“That was ages ago,” you sigh, but Lae’zel doesn’t seem much happier either.

“They choose to celebrate while the city’s citizens are being picked off like prey by spawn? No wonder its inhabitants have turned out so puny,” she glances at you while she speaks. You contemplate rolling your eyes, though you’d rather not get knocked on your ass again.

“You and Gale can go tomorrow. I made reservations at the tailor for all of us, but Figaro says he can only take two a day,” Shadowheart tells Lae’zel. “You wouldn’t mind if I took your punching bag for a few hours, would you?”

“Tchk. I have the wizard as another target if need be.”

She tosses her braid over her shoulder as she nods. “Great. Let’s hurry then.”

They don’t give you much room to protest in the matter, already having made up their minds—not that you were going to object in the first place. You’re honored, really, that the city finds you impressive enough to throw a celebration in your honor, and you know your companions are more than deserving of it, too. But it’s as Lae’zel said.

There’s another battle brewing under the city, in its shadows, and in plain sight, yet you can’t do anything about it. It’s not like the elder brain. Killing the brain itself was enough to rid of the mind flayers, but in this case, killing one spawn only leads to hunting 7000 more. Most of which are being lied to by Astarion’s siblings.

You shake your head to rid of the thoughts. No. You deserve this. You went through hell and back with that bloody parasite in your head, so hells be damned if you can have one bloody night to yourself. One that doesn’t consist of consistently worrying about whether another body will drop dead while you sleep blissfully in the walls of your own home. You need this after all you’ve been through.

Still…

The silence as you walk alongside Shadowheart makes you cringe.

It’s not like she’s angry at you, nor are you at her. You understand her reactions toward Astarion, and you like to think that she does too. But with how things ended with him last time, your interactions with the cleric have grown increasingly curt, with short conversations baring down to the bare necessities. You’ve tried to speak with her, but each time the two of you are alone, the guilt gnaws away at your stomach—your confidence along with it.

This time, you swear. This time you’ll apologize.

“Shadowhea-”

“I shouldn’t have done it.”

You blink. Twice.

She doesn’t look at you, continuing to stride through the city streets. “It was unfair of me to blow up at you for letting Astarion feed. It wasn’t my choice, and I know that. I was only…”

You wait for her to continue, increasing the speed of your footsteps to catch up.

“...It was a selfish reason,” she mutters. “I did not want to lose you to him again. I’ve seen you the last time he hurt you, and you were practically a stranger to all of us. Even with defeating the elder brain, you didn’t seem happy in the slightest. He ruined so much that I—-I instinctively tried to make a decision that I have no control over.”

“It won’t happen again. Lying, I mean,” you blurt immediately. “I’ve learned, as hard as it might be to believe. I don’t want to drift from you again, either. I’m just sorry it took so long to bring this up.”

“I’m in no place to complain. It took weeks for me to understand how in the hells your thought process seems to work…And how you manage to make such bad decisions that somehow have a knack for working out,” she purses her lips. “I still don’t understand. Not completely. But I do also trust you know what you’re doing.”

You don’t know what you’re doing, but you think it’s better to avoid telling her that.

She smiles, and you already feel lighter. “It’s a miracle I’m alive, to be honest.”

“It really is. Trust me, I’d know,” she snorts in return.

“I do have quite the skilled healer at my side, which helps.”

Shadowheart stops in front of Figaro’s store, glancing back at you. You hadn’t even realized the two of you had walked this far, but she shrugs with a smug grin as she pushes through the door.

“Whatever would you do without me?”

You’ve searched the Blushing Mermaid at least a dozen times over now, in case you missed any of Dalyria’s things that might aid you in your search for the other siblings. Despite the tavern owners blocking the entrance, a simple mage hand or two was enough to pry open the wooden boards nailed to the basement door.  It’s been nearly three times now that you’ve come up empty-handed, but what harm could a fourth try do? Sure, you’ve scrummaged her desk seven times alone, but perhaps you might have missed a drawer or two…

The stillness of the night is disturbed as you lift the hatch leading to the basement, waving away the dust that flies into your face. You pocket Dalyria’s journal and begin your descent downward. The humidity hits your cheeks, and you sigh, swallowing your distaste for the crumbling lair to resume your investigation without any distractions. You expect another endless night of useless rummaging through the Hag’s old things and some of Dalyria’s own belongings, but doing nothing would weigh too heavily on your conscious.

Just as you enter the actual lair, you find that you are not alone.

A blond man stands on the other side, his back turned to you as he searches the desk you’ve already looked over multiple times.

Petras.

Sure, you’ve been searching for him for quite a while now, but for him to just waltz into you like this? You’re not sure if you’re insanely lucky or simply unlucky for not having stumbled into him until now. He remains unaware of your presence, and you take the opportunity to reach for your knife, willing your footsteps to feel lighter to avoid detection. Another skill a certain rogue taught you at a certain point, but never mind that.

The floorboard creaks under your weight.

Dammit. You’ve never been as good as he was.

He whips around, immediately on the defense. But as soon as he spots you, his shoulder relaxes, a scowl falling as he blinks. “Oh. You.”

Embarrassment burns in your cheeks, feeling like a child who’s been caught stealing an extra sweet from the cookie jar. Still, you straighten your back, shifting so he can’t see the knife clenched in your hand. “What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering when I’d see Astarion’s pet again,” he ignores your question, stepping away from the desk toward you. It makes your body tense. “You’ve been up to quite a lot since the last time we spoke, haven’t you? I hear you nearly captured my sister.”

“I’m not his pet,” you snap, more harshly than you intended. He raises a brow. 

“Fine. His blood bank.”

Your sharp glare is enough to send him your sentiments.

“Not a very willing blood bank, I see.”

“What are you doing here, Petras?” you finally snap.

He ignores you again, and this time, you contemplate chucking the knife at his head. “How’s my brother doing? Horrible, I hope.”

“He’s fine,” you retort through gritted teeth. It’s the nicest thing you can conjure up at the moment. “We would be doing better if you weren’t making a bloodbath of the city.”

“You nearly killed my sister as well.”

“Your sister is the one that attacked us after she said she was going to kidnap Astarion like he’s some sort of object. What was I supposed to do?”

“Well, I can’t blame you. She’s always been stubborn,” he shrugs. “But I am disappointed you chose to take my brother’s side after all he’s done to you. I would pity you, really, if you hadn’t gone and killed almost four of us already.”

“You can’t blame me for self-defense.”

Petras frowns. “Tell me, why didn’t you take our deal?”

“What?”

He paces a few steps toward you, standing at the platform of the lair while you stare up at him in bewilderment. “We’ve been watching you for an extended period of time now. We offered you everything you could possibly gain from a deal like this one, and you still rejected it. You’d get rid of us and keep the city safe. All the while, you’d never have to see my brother again. Dalyria says it barely seemed to phase you. I want to know why.”

“It’s—” you trip over your own tongue. You don’t even know why you feel obligated to answer him. “It just felt right at the time.”

“What kind of half-baked answer is that?”

“I answered your question, didn't I? Now answer mine.”

Petras furrows his brows, glancing at Dalyria’s desk behind him. “I take it you know what we plan to do?”

You purse your lips, and it’s enough of an answer for him.

“I wanted to take Astarion by force, personally. But Leon and Dalyria…they’ve grown considerably soft after Cazador left,” he rolls his eyes at the thought, crossing his arms. “...A shame. That kind of fragility won’t get them anywhere in this world. Those fools are destined to die or to live at the bottom of the barrel, forever feeding on city rats.”

The way he speaks of his siblings makes your stomach churn.

“You’re a bigger fool if you think I’m going to let you go through with the ascension,” you hiss. “You’ll kill all those spawns. They’ve put their trust in you to lead them, and you’re lying straight to their faces as if their lives aren’t worth the crap on your shoes–”

“And how did things turn out the last time you tried to stop the ascension?”

This makes your throat go dry.

“Take this as our last warning, bard. Or else we’ll come and take him ourselves.”

“He’s your brother,” you blurt in exasperation, waving your hand in disbelief. “You can’t possibly want to kill him, even if he’s an asshole from time to time! Cazador is gone. You’re free! There’s nothing else to run away from!”

You don’t know why you’re defending him.

But it pours out of your chest, and you already know trying to choke it back up won’t reverse what’s already been said.

With your words seemingly going in one ear and out the other, Petras clenches his fist at his side and glowers down at you with a sharp inhale. Despite his attempts to appear composed, you can see the vein bulging from his forehead, threatening to burst if you push him any longer. “He stopped being my brother the second he tried to ascend.”

“Still—”

“He attempted to kill the rest of us for the sake of his own wellbeing. What makes him any different than Cazador himself?” he argues. “Cazador always took a special interest in Astarion. I see now that it’s because they’re so similar. In life or in death.”

For some strange reason, this makes your blood burn.

You can hear Astarion’s gasps as his master’s nightmarish toll awoke you both on those starry nights when the parasite still swam in your heads. How cold he’d felt in your arms, rasping into your chest as you calmed him. White curls brushed against your hand as you pulled him close. You’ve never wished to the gods for much, but in that moment, you begged them to let him forget. To give you something—anything—to soothe the trembling of his hands.

Astarion could have been like Cazador. He’d come dangerously close to becoming the very monster that tortured him for centuries, but he hadn’t. Whether it was voluntary or not, it doesn’t matter because, at the end of the day, he isn’t Cazador. And you plan to keep it that way as long as your fingers can still clutch your blade.

“I was planning on paying you a visit,” Petras says, catching your attention once more as he slips out a scroll from his sleeve. “Though I suppose you’ve made this easier on the both of us…especially if you die here.”

You take a step toward him, heels digging into the ground. “If you think I’ll just—”

“If you’ll only get in my way, then I have no problem with watching you perish.”

With a shout, the scroll glows a lime green, and a long groan echoes from the bodies scattered throughout the room.

Shit.

The spawn adjusts his hood back around his head, sparing you a pitiful stare. “You’ve chosen your side, and it's the one that's destined to lose. Good luck, bard…I hope your death isn’t as painful as it could have been at Astarion’s hands.”

And just as the undead begins to crawl toward you with an agonizing screech, he puffs up into a cloud of red smoke and vanishes.

You need a bath. Terribly.

Barely scraping out with your life, you can’t say you’re a pleasing person to look at with the dirt and blood smeared across your body. The sleeve of your shirt is torn open, and while a few healing potions have done the trick to heal most of your injuries, the more minor splits and cuts remain an insistent reminder of the war you’ve just declared with the vampire spawns.

Well, they’re the ones who declared it, but the point stands.

You manage to wash out a lot of the blood by the time you return home, praying your disheveled state can’t be seen with the effort you’ve put in to look presentable. Your worries are put to rest, however, when you realize just how late it’s gotten into the night, as all your companions remain blissfully asleep as you limp into the house, barely able to stand upright.

Everything is a blur. How you managed to fight off a dozen undead is a mystery to you, but it’s not unwelcome. At least there’s nobody here to scold you.

But even that, you realize, is a false sense of security when you sense him from the stairs. You’ve learned not to anticipate any creak in the floorboard when he’s the one pacing on them. Rather, you’ve learned to expect a concerning bloodthirsty presence and two eyes boring into the back of your head as if you’ve grown another head. It eventually becomes easy to sense his aura even from across the living room.

You hope the darkness conceals the bruises on your body. “What do you want?”

“You’re bleeding again,” he says, and it’s not a question. “I could smell it from upstairs.”

A scoff. “What are you? A dog?”

Astarion doesn’t bother responding to your snide comment, coming closer. You can finally see his expression in a daze as he approaches your vicinity. He’s present, but not really, as his focus shifts from you to your hand to your face again repeatedly as if he’s unsure what he’s even doing here.

You’d recognize his mannerisms anywhere.

“Are you drunk?”

“I recall you saying you were visiting the tavern.”

“I was at the tavern.”

He barks a laugh. “My dear, you can tell as many pretty lies to the others but not to me. I can see right through your little game like an open book.”

Curse him.

“I asked you a question first,” you opt to change the subject, remaining firm. “How much did you drink?”

“I didn’t break any rules, as far as I’m aware,” his words slur messily as he leans against the wall, a pink hue spread across his cheeks. “I just drank…a tiny bit more than usual.”

He’s most undoubtedly tipsy, at the very least.

Astarion pushes himself off the wall and toward you, where he squints down at you with what you assume to be some variation of curiosity. His eyes do not hold the usual hostility they usually do, somewhat clouded in a mist of relaxation that’s dangerously close to overflowing. You inch backward.

“Your turn,” he breathes. “Why are you bleeding?”

While you were out risking your life, the bastard must’ve been having the time of his life if the unsteadiness of his steps is any indication. You bite the inside of your cheek bitterly.

“I met Petras just now…more like ambushed, actually,” you respond, pacing the kitchen to wipe off the dirt staining your elbows. You pour yourself a glass of water, but the second it touches your lips, you flinch, the split on your lip still too new to be challenged. So, instead, you set the glass down, eyeing the way he mindlessly stares at you without a thought running through his mind.

Still, he’s giddier than usual, snorting at the state you’re in. “You couldn’t have possibly lost to my brother. He has muscle but barely any wit.”

You remain silent, and his smile grows wider. “Oh! You really let the bastard get away. Well, isn’t this a surprise! Excuse my error; perhaps you aren’t as invincible as I pegged you to be.”

“He caught me off guard.” Hot discomfort courses through your veins.

“Pish posh,” he waves you off, teetering in your direction. “It’s no good if you refuse to admit defeat, my dear. It’ll come back to bite you in the behind later.”

You watch with half-lidded eyes, unmoving from your spot beside the counter as he scrummages around the cabinets for nothing other than the very substance that’s reduced him to this pitiful state. Ironic, you know, considering the tavern had practically been your home only a few months prior. “How did you even get drunk? There isn’t nearly enough blood here for that.”

His face brightens when he finds what he’s been searching for. He uncorks the glass bottle and inhales the stench of blood. While it makes you scrunch your nose, he sighs dreamily, shoulder going slack. “Gale accompanied my hunt again, and I managed to find not one but two bloody bears. One of which was oh so gratefully already wounded. You can be smart when you want to be; I’m sure you can imagine the rest.”

You don’t want to imagine it, actually.

“I think you’ve had enough,” you pluck the bottle from his hands, and his expression immediately falls. He almost looks like a kicked puppy. It makes your chest swell with pride.

“Why? Would you rather I drink from you?” he tries to reach for it, but you step out of the way. “As enticing as that sounds, I’ve already had my fill of exotic blood for tonight. All I need is the dessert to top off the feast I’ve had, and I’ll be satiated for at least a few days.”

You glare at him. “You’re already drunk, you don’t need anymore.”

“But I want more,” he slurs again, and you attempt to move the bottle behind your back, but his hand is already expecting this maneuver. With embarrassing ease, the bottle slips into his grasp, and he takes a long sip of blood while forgetting how you remain caged against the counter, arms blocking any sort of exit you can take to slip away.

You can count his eyelashes from this distance.

He lifts his hand to wipe at his mouth, and much to your relief, you manage to escape the suffocating feeling of being surrounded by him. His scent, his voice, just everything. You close your fists, itching to retreat into the comforts of your own bedroom rather than continue to watch his focus zone in and out until narrowing down on you. “Are you done?”

“Mm, it’s sweet, but not sweet enough. It’s not quite a dessert, I’m afraid.”

“You don’t even like sweet things,” you scoff. You don’t know why you remember this. You shouldn’t remember this. It’s not even your concern anymore.

He stares at you. “I make exceptions.”

Unwillingly to figure out the implications of his words (and whether or not it comes off as a threat), you run a hand through your hair and sigh. “Petras seems hell-bent on kidnapping you.”

“Let him try. The poor fool wouldn’t stand a chance against any of us, much less all of us simultaneously. At least it’ll make for quite a show.”

“And let him kill more people in the process?”

Astarion tilts his head, albeit only slightly. He lacks the usual polish of his charm. “Ah, we couldn’t dare allow a few unlucky souls to perish. It’s not like the inevitable fate of death is waiting for them anyway.”

Sarcasm dripping from his tongue, you decide he’s not nearly sober enough to talk about this. He’s barely keeping himself upright with his arms perched on either side of the counter. He’s close enough that the scent of blood muddles all of your other senses. The softness in his eyes makes you squirm, and the small voice in your head that is your intuition screams for you to get away before…well, you’re not sure what, but it’s what it’s telling you.

“Go to bed,” you order him, though it sounds more like a plea. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“The night’s only begun, though.”

The answer spews out immediately. “I miss to see where that’s my problem.”

Rather than taking offense, he merely smiles. “You’re so harsh to me, love.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the nickname catches you off guard. It’s one he hasn’t called you since…everything. One that you’ve learned to bury into whatever corner you can find in your memories, hoping never to see them again. For a split moment, you can feel your resolve falter. Still, you refuse to show him what a simple word does to you and steel your will to leave this for a proper time when you’re both not nearly delirious. One from blood and the other from a battle.

“I wouldn’t be harsh if you didn’t deserve it.”

“I’m aware.” His voice lowers. “Though I rather like it when you’re cruel to me.”

You blink. 

Has he always looked at you like this?

He’s not just drunk, you reason. He’s completely wasted.

“Astarion,” you lean away. “You’re drunk.”

He ignores your warnings with a click of his tongue. “My mind is clearer than it's ever been after I got that damn parasite out of my head.”

His delirious expression says otherwise.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh irritably. “Whatever game you’re playing, I want none of it. I’m tired, so just leave me be, will you? Get out of my way.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“You’re the one blocking me from leaving!” you fume, pointing at his arm.

“That’s not what I mean. You’re…” he sighs, dropping his head wearily. “…you’re no different than that parasite, come to think of it.”

Appalled, you just gawk at him, jaw agape. “Please tell me I did not just hear you say that.”

He laughs, throwing his head back as he straightens his back. His arms fall back to his side, providing you just enough space to squeeze out of the way, but you find yourself staring up at him as he recollects himself. “It’s rather frustrating. I suppose, at the very least, unlike that worm, you’re a pretty thing to look at.”

What in the hells is going on?

First, he calls you a parasite and then proceeds to flatter you barely two seconds later, having nothing but hazy blurs in that thick skull of his. You wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to kill you again next. In fact, you think it’s probably best to retreat now when you can—even if he’s gazing down at you as if he expects an answer to his previous statement.

You should leave.

Your legs remain rooted in place.

You should definitely leave.

“Call me that again, and I’ll install bars on your windows,” you grumble, only half meaning it. Mainly because it would be a hassle to build. “Just go, Astarion. I don’t want to speak with you.”

“Convince me.”

You quirk a brow. “What?”

“Convince me that you don’t want me here,” he says firmly. “Then I’ll leave.”

Gods, has he lost it?

“Are you serious?”

“Am I ever not? I may deceive you, but I always take you seriously. You must know this.”

Barely stopping yourself from punching that smug smile off his face, your brows furrow. And with gritted teeth, you hiss. “Well, for one, you stink of blood.”

“What a pleasant fragrance indeed.”

“Two,” you continue. “You’re barely standing on both feet, which tells me you aren’t in any position to discuss what I want to right now—which, by the way, is your own damn brother.”

He hums.

“Three, you’re an asshole.”

“Very convincing, darling.”

“So I’ve heard,” you snap, rolling your eyes. “Do I need to say more?”

Astarion steps closer, making your shoulders tense. “Tell me more about how I’m an asshole.”

The blood he drank must contain some sort of drug, surely.

“You leave bottles all over the living room,” you begin, and slowly, the words begin to spill out as if they’ve been waiting to be thrown at him for a while now. “You don’t help clean at all. You make jokes only you find funny. You fight with Shadowheart all the time, and it makes everyone uncomfortable. You walk around at three in the morning and scare the crap out of me just because I wanted some water.”

He nods. “Go on.”

“You’re always sneaking out, even though we tell you not to. You don’t even tell us where you’re going and then get surprised when Lae’zel wants to execute you again! You come home at bizarre times, and the hallway smells like blood all the time, and—and—-” You’re rambling now, you realize, but you’re too exhausted to give a rat’s ass about it. So instead, you push a finger into his chest pointedly, scowling. “---you’re just not pleasant to be around. You’re the biggest asshole I’ve met, and trust me when I’ve met a lot of assholes. I’d rather all of them than you.”

Astarion’s lashes flutter as his gaze flits across your face. “Is that so?”

With narrowed eyes, your fists tighten. “Hells, I don’t even know why I’m here with you because I should’ve been at the tavern sleeping with some other random bastard by now if your damn brother didn’t-”

Suddenly, the breath in your lungs is knocked out as the back of your hips bumps against the counter, knocking over your glass of water.

Before you can discern whatever emotions are being evoked by his lack of awareness, the already minimal distance between the two of you closes as he smashes his lips against yours. It’s harsh. Fueled by hatred, it’s by no means a pleasant show of affection. It burns, sending sparks throughout your entire body as you sink into his touch, feeling the full force of the smallest of movements; he seems dangerously close to what you might describe as desperate.

Unable to fully process what’s happening, you only stand there, stock still.

Your eyes might fall out of its sockets with how wide they are.

He’s kissing you. 

Astarion is kissing you.

And instinctively, your body, if for a split moment, kisses back.

What. The. Fuck.

Thankfully, you’re quick to realize what’s happening, and you abruptly shove him away, stumbling in the process. It seems he’s sobered up on his end because he appears just as shocked as you are, the blood staining his pretty lips being the only proof that the kiss did indeed happen. He blinks rapidly, first trying to take in your expression. You don’t think you’ve seen him this lost in ages. But that's not your concern right now.

He starts. “Darling, I–”

Your fist punches into his stomach, and he reels.

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[lesbiansforboromir]

Alright, I was holding off for journalistic integrity but now that I've seen the WotR film I can make posts about it without restraint.

Jesus christ the racial politics of this film are atrocious. Some character might as well just tell Wulf 'not to play the race card'. Wulf is a liberal snowflake who blames racism for all his troubles and can't pull himself up by his bootstraps and he is also brown-skinned and obsessively pursues our PORCLAIN white dainty-drawn female protagonist with both romantic and murderous intent. Oppression of dunlendings by the Rohirrim exists only in Wulf's head apparently, though it can be tasted in every spat 'dunlending' perjorative that comes from Helm or Haleth's mouth. But Hera has absolutely no racism within her of course! She refuses Wulf because she doesnt want to marry anyone and Wulf just assumes it's because his dunlending blood disgusts her, so entitled of him!

But also maybe the racism is '''justified'''? If it exists? Which it doesn't! But IF it did, don't worry because ONCE AGAIN all the dunlendings are just greedy, clutching, unwashed, skull wearing, violent barbarians with no unique culture to speak of and no reasons to be making war on Rohan except to sieze what isn't theirs (ignoring the fact that it totally was theirs until Rohan seized it from them and OH BOY are we ignorin' that) And the only dunlending we see not frothing at the mouth for violence or showing any introspective depth at all is General Targg who is the mouthpiece with which we get to hear 'the girl (Hera) is right' whereupon he is promptly killed by Wulf.

Oh but of course, what else could Helm have done? Freca was some greedy FAT man (boy does everyone love calling him fat, happy to lean into THAT aspect of canon) whose lands were too prosperous for his own good (hang on isn't keeping your lands prosperous the platonic ideal of lordship?) And he called a 'Witan' (no he didn't, he came to one of the regular councils of lords that Helm called himself) just to make a scene about how Helm was going to marry Hera to a lord of gondor which is bad because Gondor has some nebulous hold over Rohan so Hera should marry Wulf instead (literally none of that, Freca simply asked Helm to wed his daughter to Wulf, his son, a completely normal and legitimate political strategy to secure a better relationship with the King's family since Helm already mistrusted him for having dunlending blood. Freca is a lord of Rohan, he is rich, he traces his ancestry back to King Freawine, this could not be a more reasonable suggestion in canon.)

SO OBVIOUSLY Helm had to get angry and call Freca fat again (true he did do that) and THEN claim that Freca only wanted his throne (there was never any suggestion of this in the books, it was just the offer of marriage which insulted Helm) to which Freca answered "Old kings that refuse a proffered staff may fall on their knees," and Helm is like okay lets take this outside.

And now THIS change is actually so important in understanding the extreme nature of the Rohir/Helm favouritism that is the main focus of this film. In the film Helm pretty much immediately takes Freca outside, he reassures Frealaf that Freca just needs to be shown his place, this is the only way to settle the matter, if he doesn't embarass him here then Freca will try to take his crown and slay his family apparently, his hunch ig etc etc. Freca punches Helm three times in full view of the whole of Edoras including Freca's two men who came with him, then Helm punches him back and he is knocked out cold and dead by the time he hits the ground. Film!Helm does not realise he has done this and tells Freca to get up, Wulf realises his father is dead and threatens Helm with revenge, swords are draw against him which he tries to calm before Wulf attacks him. Helm incapacitates Wulf, his sons draw THEIR swords and Helm exiles Wulf for drawing his sword on his king. Messy right? Like not a good thing to do, generally brawling with your lords is a bad idea full stop, but if you fear for the lives of your children then idk maybe it's excusable? And then it's just an unfortunate series of events right? And Freca was rude and insulting to a king in his own halls, heat of the moment etc etc

I feel so comfortable in telling you that Helm murders Freca in cold blood in the books, fully intending that to be the outcome.

He does not take him outside initially, Book!Helm tells Freca that this marriage dispute isn't important and they will deal with it later. And then;

When the council was over, Helm stood up and laid his great hand on Freca’s shoulder, saying: "The king does not permit brawls in his house, but men are freer outside"; and he forced Freca to walk before him out from Edoras into the field. To Freca’s men that came up he said: "Be off ! We need no hearers. We are going to speak of a private matter alone. Go and talk to my men!" And they looked and saw that the king’s men and his friends far outnumbered them, and they drew back. "Now, Dunlending," said the king, "you have only Helm to deal with, alone and unarmed. But you have said much already, and it is my turn to speak. Freca, your folly has grown with your belly. You talk of a staff! If Helm dislikes a crooked staff that is thrust on him, he breaks it. So!" With that he smote Freca such a blow with his fist that he fell back stunned, and died soon after. Helm then proclaimed Freca’s son and near kin the king’s enemies; and they fled, for at once Helm sent many men riding to the west marches.

(Appendices, 'The House of Eorl', emphasis mine)

I think we can all agree that forcing someone out of your city, isolating them away from their fellows with threats of violence, telling them you will break them, killing them in one blow and then proclaiming their kin your enemies and forcing them to flee to escape a murderous pursuit, is pretty clearly premeditated murder. There is not much nuance here, Freca tresspassed over a line with Helm that Dunlendings are not allowed to cross and Helm killed him for it.

And listen like, the description of this whole story within the appendices is barely more than three pages. This is not an obscure missable aspect of the tale, nor is it outside of what rights they had to adapt. The choice was made, actively, ONCE AGAIN by the Warner Bros cinematic universe makers, to drastically alter book events in order to sand down any immorality within Rohan's narrative, especially where the Dunlendings are concerned. And in the end the only 'mistake' Helm is allowed to learn and grow from is some nebulous and trite 'not believing enough in his daughter' schpiel, which needs to be the subject of a whole 'nother post actually.

And what's agonising is they COULD have done it like they were so close, there are multiple moments where me and my friend watching were like struck!! With grief! Over how impactful this moment could have been if only the racism actually existed as an acknowledged theme in the story. If only it was something Hera had to come to terms with, if only IT was the true driver of these horrors to the point where it's Avatar, Hera's father, a man who loves her and whom she has loved all her life, turns into a cold icey ghost of brutality, far more vicious and barbaric than the people he so reviles, and reveals to her the terrible truth of his actions and motivations. It's agony I tell you.

Anyway I did not like the film.

[onekeii]

We can eat the snow

Day 3: Kissing in the snow | Accelerated heartbeat Genshin Impact: Xiao x GN!Reader Warnings/Genre: light angst, fluff, reader has self-esteem issues, not proof read Word count: 942 AN: i haven't played genshin in like 2 years but i love xiao

Read on AO3

Your mysterious Yaksha companion never gave you a break. Danger was always around the corner with him, and you started to think your body couldn’t produce adrenaline anymore. Or maybe you were just high on it all the time. Today was no different.

“Xiao!” You call out after running down the inn’s many stairs. He’s not standing too far, back facing you as he stares at the fresh snow thinly veiling the ground. “What is it this time?” You say exasperatedly. It’s not that you don’t care, but running after him like this all the time, finding him contemplative after defeating the threat before you could even lift your own sword, was exhausting. Why do you stick around? Why does he bother to keep you around?

He doesn’t respond. It’s unlike him. Xiao’s usually too on edge to let anything slip past him, or maybe he was ignoring you unintentionally. You curse under your breath as you take careful steps towards him, your foot slips on a particularly wet and icy patch but you dig your sword into the ground, you find your balance again. Always a fight to get closer to him, huh? You laugh to yourself.

Finally, you reach him in one piece, and ask again, more nonchalantly this time, “Whatcha doing?” Yeah, you’re totally chill right now, you think. Except you’re only chill in the sense that it’s cold, and you forgot to put on an extra layer when you ran out to find Xiao. You grimace - at the cold and at your stupidity.

When he turns around, his eyes aren’t dark and brooding like always. They’re wide and shining and a brighter gold than you’ve ever seen before. He’s holding a clump of snow in his gloved hand, close to his face, his cheeks puffed out as innocently as a squirrel. Xiao swallows - what, you don’t know - and finally responds, “Eating.”

Your eyes search over him once more; he’s holding nothing but the snow. When you peer over his shoulder, you can see where he’s dug it straight out of the ground. Your vision tilts, “The snow?!” you exclaim.

“...Yeah?” He takes another bite. Xiao has mused about eating snow before, but you could never take the childish fantasies of an immortal so seriously. Forgetting how slippery the ground was beneath you, your quick step forward (in a valiant and sick attempt to knock the snow out of Xiao’s hand) did not land. Instead, your heel just kept slipping forward, then it was arcing in the air, and your limbs were too numb with cold to move quick enough. You slipped. In your shock, grief, stress, you slipped . You shut your eyes and braced for impact.

Woosh , a warm arm wrapped around the back of your waist, pulling you away from your terrible fate written in the ice. Of course Xiao is the one who caught you. Opening your eyes, a breath hitches in your throat at how close his face is to yours, you can feel his breath against your chin, and it’s… It’s cold from the goddamn snow. 

“You’re so strange,” you scoff. You’re very much safe from falling now, but Xiao doesn’t let you go or help you to your feet. He just stares at you longer, his gold eyes wide and unfazed still. When you start nervously looking beyond him, he finally says, “Your heart is beating so fast. Are you that cold?”

Indeed, it’s pulsing violently in your chest right now, desperately pumping blood to your freezing skin. It’s thumping so loud you can feel it behind your eyes and in your stomach, setting your blood on fire, urging you to do something stupid. Doesn’t he realise how his grip around your waist burns? That you might want to feel even more of him against your icy skin?

He’s still holding onto the dwindling pile of snow in his free hand, swallowing yet another mouthful. This side of him was absurd, ‘normal’ was not the right word - normal people did not eat snow - but it was so… mundane? Wide eyes and puffed cheeks and a disturbing curiosity suited him surprisingly well. It was cute. How could Xiao be cute?

Fuck it, you think, I can always leave tomorrow. You hook one arm around the back of his neck and close the gap, catching his lips in yours.

But he pulls away instantly. Ouch, he could have at least been shocked for a moment. You breathe a sigh, thinking up your dramatic escape. At least that weight was off your chest now. Xiao doesn’t let go of you, though, and you’re reduced to staring at him awkwardly once again. His brows are creased but he’s not angry with you, maybe confused? You’d rather he was angry, then it would be easier to walk away.

Then your back falls into the snowy ground, clothes already soaked through, “Thanks,” you snark and try to sit up, but Xiao’s eyes are in front of yours once more. His cold, gloved hand (it’s no longer holding the snow!) pushes you down by the shoulder, traces down the side of your arm and intertwines with your own hand. Xiao’s knees are planted either side of your leg and he’s hovering over you completely, blocking any light or sky from your view. There’s only him. 

And there’s only his lips on yours. Again. For longer, much longer, this time. He moves slowly, with uncertainty, unlike his usual grace in battle. You cup his cheek and welcome this surprise, just like he welcomes your tongue when you ask. Xiao’s mouth is still frozen from the cold, but you’ll soon change that. 

@12daysofchristmas

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[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.5 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warnings: violence, mentions of trauma, abuse, sexual tensioooon

See masterlist

Throughout her life so far, y/n has not met many humans. In fact, the only humans she ever met were the Archeron sisters. It was after the war against Hybern that, when Feyre, her high lady for whom y/n would once do anything for, began her diplomatic arrangements between humans and fae. That is when she would join Lucien and Jurian from time to time, and go to the mortal lands in order to negotiate, set new rules and mediate peace.

Which is why, as she stood in this hall now and saw 2 more humans apart from Elide and Lorcan, y/n was quite unsure and observative. From the corner of the room, she watched everyone hug, except for Lorcan of course because it seems like Elide is the only one who ever gets his nonstop clinging, and greet the new arrivals. It was also annoying how her eyes seemed to only look at the wolf who was looking as delicious as eve- Cauldron, y/n. Get yourself together and stop drooling after the most frustratingly arrogant male in existence.

Her eyes then took in the beautiful woman whose name was Yrene, if she remembered the servants words clearly. She had golden-brown skin and breathtaking curly hair with small specks of dark gold visible. Not to mention her slender frame and very generous other features that most probably drew both men and womens attention to her. This woman looked like a Godess of the Sun.

Y/n's attention then moved to the tall man-Chaol, apparently, beside her. His chestnut hair that is slightly long enough for some strands to reach his brow is what stands out to her first, followed by his copper-brown eyes. Apart from his height, he also seems very muscular. He would be considered quite handsome if not for the small frown on his face directed at y/n. That is when she realized that the room has gone completely silent as everyone is watching her. She swallowed her growing unease and said with a formal tone, "Y/n."

Yrene smiled as she came slightly closer, followed by Chaol who had one hand on his sword, "We heard quite a lot about you in Aelin's letter, Y/n. I am Yrene Westfall, it is so nice to finally meet you."

Then, Yrene nudged Chaol with her elbow as a sign to stop glaring and start talking. He cleared his throat and said, although still glaring and assesing her, and especially her wings "Chaol Westfall. Yrene's husband."

Y/N nodded in acknowledgment, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. It was also not helping that Lorcan's gaze was the harshest. He was staring with such intensity and anger that it was a surprise how she still had not melted away under his cruel gaze. "It's a pleasure to meet both of you," she replied diplomatically, trying to ignore the tension in Chaol's demeanor. She knew their arrival signaled an important moment in Aelin's plans, and if she wanted to find a way back home, she needed to navigate this encounter carefully.

Aelin stepped forward, once again breaking the silence that had settled over the room. "It is so good to have you both here again. Although, I am quite upset that Dorian did not come."

At that, Chaol turned back towards her and said, "Yes, he had some issues to solve in Morath regarding the growing number of rebels who were vandalising places as a sign of opposition to his rule. I offered to be the one to stay back while he came here but he insisted and told me to send his apologies."

Aelin nodded as Rowan stood beside his mate and put his arm around her waist. "Well, you two came a long way so have some rest and then we can discuss the matters at hand."

"Indeed, we have much to tell you."

Once Eva and Lysandra decided to lead the arrivals into the guest bedroom, y/n seperated from everyone as she went up to her room to begin finding a way to decipher this book. But, just when she put the book on the table, a knock came from the other side of the room.

When y/n opened it, Lorcan was on the other side. She did not have a chance to react before he stepped in, closed the door, and took y/n by her neck, pressing her into the cool wall. He was nose to nose with her as he snarled, showing his fangs before saying in a voice that made her feel awful things, "You can fool everyone else with your acts, but not me. I was an immortal once too so do not think for a minute that just because I am now a human, I am somehow weaker than you are. No, I have my eyes all on you and if I even get a whiff of something suspicious, something that poses as a threat to us, or most importantly, to my wife and children, I won't hesitate to end you right then and there. Are we clear?"

His hands, she remembered his hands when they were choking her.

Those hands that almost ended her life. Oh Mother, she did not die then, but she would die now.

No, no, NO, NO-

He then unwrapped his hand from around her throat as y/n held on to the wall while coughing and taking in large gulps of air. Forcing her mind and body back to reality.

I am y/n. I am 152 years old and I am free. I am safe. I am strong. I won't cower. I am a warrior.

She repeated her chants in her mind 2 more times before the blur was gone.

When she calmed down, she forced her face into cool indifference "If you think that by choking and threatening me I will be scared of you, you are utterly wrong. In fact, your utter childish behavior since my awakening has been nothing but hilarious and even if in the beginning I may have found it amusing, I am getting bored of your antics now. My only goal is to get home as soon as possible. I do not trust any of you just like you do not trust me and while it is so 'heroic' that you think of me as a villain you should save your family from, I have no interest in fighting you. Therefore, you either help us find a way to stop the danger that is surely heading your way and send me home, or you could fuck off from my presence because believe me Lorcan, this will be the last time you ever stand in my way or put a hand on me. Because if you do so again, I won't hesitate to end you and then pretend to be sad while patting Elide's back as she cries over your grave."

Lorcan only stared at her with an unreadable expression before saying, "Choose your moves carefully." and with that, he turned around and left.

She went towards the mirror and to absolutely no one's surprise, his large hand had left a huge, red and angry mark around her neck. Y/n sank to her knees as another flashback ran through her mind.

She was 18.

He had given her a good amount of money and sent her to fetch the new scabbard that the swordsmith had created for him. However, it was as if unfortune followed her everywhere she went as a group of 3 males' got in her way.

"Look! a whore to use." one of them said as the other two laughed.

"What use are you talking about? She is all bones and no meat. Disgusting. Would not suggest touching her, even with a ten foot pole."

At that, they all laughed even harder while she only watched with a fearful gaze, trying but failing to get out of their way.

"Give us all your money or you die."

At that, she said, "No, I do not have any money."

One of them grabbed her wrist as he said, "Liar."

The other two immediately put their hands on her as they searched for the pouch with the money, hidden in the breastpocket of her dress.

She tried fighting, tried stopping them but they were soldiers, training to be warriors while she was nothing. They would crash her under their foot with no remorse whatsoever.

The male holding her wrist noticed the pouch poking from within her clothes and immediately ripped the front of her dress apart, leaving her only in her undergown, as he grabbed the money.

Without saying a word, they pushed her to the ground and stepped on her stomach before laughing and walking away.

"Bitch"

"Useless females"

"Lets go spend it"

That was all she heard as y/n clutched her stomach and lay in the middle of the cold and empty ground.

When she came home, with no scabbard, a ripped dress and an aching stomach, he got up from his desk and came towards her as he asked, "What happened?"

"S-some males...they...they took the money before I could even reach the swordsmith. They rip-ripped open the, the-"

"You do not have the scabbard?"

Of course he would not care about what happened to her. He only cared about the sole fact that she 'disobeyed' his rule.

In the blink of an eye, he had her back pressed to the wall as he choked her with his big, disgusting and meaty fingers.

"You fool! I gave you clear orders to follow and what did you do instead? Whore around with some males and let them take MY money."

She could not breathe as her feeble attempts at pushing his hand away resulted in nothing.

She was drowning. She was dying. Her vision was getting blurry.

It is alright, darkness would claim her soon. Darkness would welcome her. She believed in the Mother but darkness was what felt more comfortable for her.

It was time.

When y/n open's her eyes again, she is still in the same position in front of the mirror.

As she looked at her neck, her anger at Lorcan started rising again. But more than that, her own emotions, her pity for her younger self took over.

She hated Lorcan even more for bringing up another buried memory. And this one wasn't even in her dream!

With a sigh, she went into the washroom to wash away not only her sweat from the training, but also the feel of Lorcan's hand and the bad memory. Even if it was just a flashback, she still felt dirty to the core.

After a long and relaxing bath, she picked out a turtleneck white dress that was not too tight but hugged her curves just right. After using some of the beauty products and styling her hair, she decided to go to the gardens to clear her mind.

To say that this garden was big would be an understatement. It was huge. When y/n passed by it in the morning, she did not carefully look at it since she was busy trying to rid herself of her nightmare and the stress. But now, as she stood at it's entrance and took the whole view in, she realized how ethereal it is.

Various forms of flowers, plants and trees were taking up every part of the garden. It was an explosion of colors, life and peace. Peace because this whole place was so comfortingly quiet that it made y/n feel so safe, she never wanted to get out.

As she walked, she came across a small, black gate with intricate designs on it and once she entered it, there was a small fountain in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by more greenery. Y/n's awe was written all over her face as she sat on the small space next to the fountain. The sound of water cascading from the marble openings, birds chirping and the smell of nature made her feel all energetic and content.

"Enjoying the calmness?"

She turned around to see Yrene enter the area. She was wearing an elegant long-sleeved creme colored dress with gold highlights at the bottom. Y/n smiled slightly before raising her head up, closing her eyes and soaking in the sun "It has been quite some time since I last was in a place this serene."

Yrene sat beside her as she said, "You mean, you do not have such places in your world?"

"So you are aware about me."

She smiled "Well, it is hard not to be after Aelin sent like 15 different letters while we were on the way, informing us, although in a coded way so no one else understands, about what you told them."

Y/n sighed as she said, "Great. Well, I know you also do not like me so just ask what you need to."

Yrene looked genuinely confused "I do not hate you. I do not hate on other women or females. I myself grew up surrounded by women and their influence so even if you are a stranger from a different world, I do not see you as a threat. In fact, I would love to hear more about where you come from."

Y/n reigned in her shock and scoffed "The males and men in here would disagree. Especially Fenrys and Lorcan."

Yrene put her hand on y/n's shoulder as she said in a soothing voice, "Men, males who cares? They are all the same."

Y/n smirked slightly while raising an eyebrow "And you say this while having a husband?"

Yrene blushed slightly, "Well, the way we met was...unusual. I despised him at first."

Y/n was shocked as her eyes became twice their normal size "Not a chance! He seems so protective over you, well not to say any husband shouldn't, but I would never guess you two were once enemies."

Yrene smiled as she sighed softly "Yes, well, let that be a story for another day. Besides, it seems like we are going to be here for a while. Aelin said there is another thing apart from you being here that also needs to urgently be addressed."

At that, y/n's mood soured as she remembered the book, "The book! I need to get it."

"Wha-"

"There you two are!" Lysandras voice boomed through the area as she came into view.

"Well hello to you too, Lysandra" Yrene got up as she hugged the brown haired female.

Lysandra turned to look at y/n as her eyes widened "Oh my! Y/n that dress looks absolutely perfect on you! and matched with those jewelries? You do have taste in clothing after all- Sorry that came out rude it is just I only saw you in pants and a shirt soooo...this is new." she finished her sentence with a sheepish smile.

Y/n returned her smile with a small but genuine laugh as she said "No reason to apologise. After all, you look rather ravishing yourself." And she did. Lysandras tight forest green, velvet dress not only flattered all her curves, but also brought out the feautures on her face.

Yrene smirked as she nudged Lysandra by her arm and said, "I bet that Aedion will manage to supress himself for maximum 5 minutes before dragging you somewhere to shag."

Lysandra blushed and smiled as she said, "Well thank you, thank you. We can continue this complement battle at dinner. Shall we?"

"You two go. I need to get the book since we will be discussing it."

Lysandra nodded as she hooked her elbow with Yrene and they left. Y/n, tired of walking, flapped her wings and shot into the air. Oh wow, it has been what? two days? since she last flew.

Today was tiring enough. First, Fenrys did not get any sleep at night because even after he calmed y/n down, he still stayed awake in case she goes back to her unfortunate state. Of course this also caused him to overthink a bunch of things about her. What was she seeing? Does she also have dark secrets? What is her past like? But anyways, moving on, then he again had this small moment with y/n in the training area where his body was about to betray his rational mind due to lust.

Then came Chaol and Yrene. After they got rest for a bit, Chaol joined him, Lorcan and Rowan in Rowan's office where he had to sign letters an do his other princely stuff. Honestly? Fenrys did not know or care because his mind drifted off to when Lorcan followed y/n earlier this afternoon. Of course Fenrys couln't follow them without Lorcan immediately finding out but knowing that he followed her for some reason brought a sour taste to his mouth. What if they are working together? Fenrys would not put it past Lorcan because even now after the war he still sometimes despises him. But then again, he has Elide and two sons now, not to mention how he is blood sworn to Aelin so he can not act out of line.

Then why did he follow her?

This question has been bugging him at the back of his mind for the past 2 hours as Fenrys sat in one of the chairs around a large table in the dining room. His quick visit to the borders in order to check on and give out new orders to to the soldiers and do some other official work left him drained of both energy and magic.

Fenrys looked around the room to distract himself from the sleep his body was begging for. Just like in any other room, the signature Terrasen green was present. The multiple large windows surrounding the room gave a perfect view of sunset while its green and silver gray drapes were gathered by the sides. There were small lounge chairs and one large couch in front of the window. There was no carpet on the floors as the polished wood shined under the light in the room.

"Are you sure she can be trusted?" Chaol's voice brought him back from daydreaming as he assesed his family members places. Chaol was sitting opposite to him with his wife by his side, right next to Chaol sat Lorcan and Elide. Next to Fenrys was Aedion and next to him were Lysandra and Eva.

At the opposite sides end, next to Yrene, sat Rowan while his mate sat at the head of the table. This once again left only one space empty, and would you look at that...it was right next to him. When y/n would come, he would have to endure her here, by his side. Oh Gods-

"Well, me and Yrene do like her now. I don't know about the rest of you." Lysandra said while Aedion kissed her on the cheek "If my wife trusts her, then I trust her."

Eva smiled as she said, "I certainly trust her! She did not look at me like most strangers do."

Rowan raised an eyebrow "And how do they look?"

"Like they pity me or like I am some deranged child just because of these" she points to the scars on her face.

The room erupts at that.

"Who do I have to kill?"

"Names. Give me names. Now."

"Eva, why did you not mention that before?"

"Let me pay a nice little visit to them sweetheart."

But all that chaos quickly died down as y/n entered the room. The second his gaze landed on her, Fenrys thought that Rowan sucked the air out of him because suddenly, he forgot how to breathe.

There was no word in the world that would describe her now. She was wearing a deep purple gown with a turtle neck that hugged her body like second skin and ended below her ankles, showing her shoes just a little. Her hair was styled in a way that highlighted her facial features. Not to mention her small but still eye catching purple and gold earings dangling from her ears.

He suddenly felt like the room was too small. Too tight. He was feeling and imagining things that he definetly should not be about a suspect. But how could he not? She looked absolutely delicious and Fenrys would be willing to cut out his kidneys if he could just touch her once.

She came and sat down next to him, although slightly hesitantly and that was when her addictive scent of jasmine and peaches hit his nose. He barely managed to hold back his groan. He was so turned on it was not a joke anymore. So much so that, just from the smell of her scent, he felt like cu-

Y/n put the book that was in her hands on the table as she said, "I am aware that we were meant to have dinner first, discuss this later, but the sooner the better. Aelin, would you do the honors?"

When y/n had gone upstairs to take the book, she could not stand the itchiness that suddenly overcame her. That was why she took off the dress, cursed on Lorcan for a good 5 minutes when she saw the state her neck was in, and changed into something more fitting for a formal dinner.

This decision may also have been slightly influenced by the fact that Fenrys would be there and he would see her.

When she entered the room, she saw how everyone looked at her. The females with support and respect, the males with suspicious or vary glances. For some reason, Lorcan was not glaring but just...looking. Well, that is an improvement at least.

But even under all those stares, it was only one pair of eyes that made her feel things she should not be feeling. Especially not towards someone like Fenrys.

But how could she not? The way he was staring at her like she was the only female in the world and he was a starved traveler looking for his meal. Not to mention how he himself looked so distracting with his hair let loose, forest green and black clothing that was brought together by his brown, leather belt and his black loose pants. Even all those layers failed to hide his perfect, muscular, broad body. And then when she sat next to him--although hesitantly because even with all the lust coursing through her veins, she knew he was still not someone she could ever trust let alone get close to--his arousal hit her like a large wave of water.

How she managed to stay calm and collected while going crazy inside was an absolute shock to y/n. But she managed and put the book on the table.

Aelin stood and said, "On the contrary, I wanted to share the news before dinner which is why the table is currently empty."

And that was then, that y/n realized the table was indeed empty of any meals.

"Y/n found a book that might have some beneficial information for us. When we looked inside, we found out that the Book of Breathings may be another form of Wyrdkey. But then, we could not read any more because the language changed to one that we do not understand. Lysandra found a small prophecy at the corner of the page which, y/n could you read?"

At that, y/n turned towards the book and read the prophecy. Once she was done, she looked up to see everyone, except Lysandra and Aelin, having different facial expressions.

Chaol cleared his throat and spoke first, "So, now what? How do we understand more if we can not decipher the language?"

By now, everyone was looking at the ancient writings on the book. Yrene, her fingers scamming the page, said with some sort of confidence, "Chaol, this is just like what we discovered about the Valg in Antica. At Hasar's birthday getaway. Look at the drawings. They seem similar no? I think...I think I might have a chance at solving this."

Apparently, everyone was thinking the same thing because Aedion looked at others puzzled faces and asked, "You...how? Do you know this language? I am so confused"

"No, I do not know the language but, my mother was a very smart woman. Not only a healer but also an extraordinary philologist. She had deciphered multiple texts and recipes for healing antidotes from some centuries ago. That was how she even managed to create new medicines and afford us a living."

Y/n's heart fluttered with hope. Finally, a chance, an opening to get home. To understand whatever may be coming for them.

The shock, intrigue and excitement was written over everyone's faces. Even Lorcan, whose eyes just went wide before he put his angry giant act back on.

It was Rowan who closed his slightly open mouth, raised a brow and asked, "So, you have been taught the skill?"

Yrene nodded, "Even though it was long ago, I still think I could atleast give it a try. Besides, 3 years ago when we were in Antica, the way me and Chaol discovered new and ancient information on valgs may have given me a slight reminder. If we are lucky, I will be able to atleast get more information in a couple of days."

Pride was written all over Chaol's face as he kissed his wife's cheek and then hugged her as he said, "I will be by your side, helping you. We did it once, we can do it again."

Everyone was smiling brightly with hope, Aelin and y/n, the brightest of them all "Thank you, Yrene. Whatever you need just tell me I will make sure you have it."

Elide, now also hugging Yrene, detached from her as she said, "We can search more in the meantime. Let us not waste another second."

As y/n nodded her head in agreement, she felt a smaller hand touch her arm. When she turned around, Eva was giving everyone, especially her, the big puppy eyes as she said- no begged, "Can I please please be included this time? I really want to help now. Pleaseeee."

Y/n felt this sudden need to hug the girl, but she said, not caring for whatever Lysandra or Aedion might say, "Of course you can Eva. How can anyone say no to you?"

She turned around to see Lysandra shaking her head but smiling as she said, "Alright."

Eva squealed as she jumped on y/n, squeezing the life out of her.

"What? No! it is dange-" Aedion's denial was cut off when Lysandra put her hand on his chest and said, "Love, she is helping us search for more information, not going into battle. I know how much you love her but please, bring down your protectiveness a notch."

"Bu-"

"Aedion."

He sighed but then hugged Lysandra to his chest and whispered something that made her turn bright red as she slapped his chest playfully.

"We shall start from tomorrow morning then." Aelin said, while ordering a servant to bring in the meals.

4 hours later and y/n was back in her room, getting ready for bed. The day was hot enough for her to opt for a loose silk nightgown that ended slightly above her knees.

Hopefully, Yrene manages to find something more. Tomorrow, she will join Aelin at whatever she is planning to do in order to get more information. She has to quickly find her way home. In all honesty, she could not care less for whatever troubles may be coming their way because this is not her world and Aelin is not her queen. Let them deal with their own problems. All she needs is to get back ho-

Y/n nearly fell down and kissed the floor when she felt something slip beneath her feet. She cursed quietly and looked down to see one of the large square floorboards slightly crooked. When she leaned down to touch it, it moved, sliding away and revealing a set of stone stairs, leadin downwards. She could not see anything beyond the first 4 steps as it was complete and utter darkness.

Should she go down and see what it holds? Does Aelin know that there is something like this in her palace? Are there more of these passages? No. Her curiosity always got her into trouble and now she most definetly did not need to follow it. Whatever is down below, it does not look neither safe nor promising.

No. She most definetly did not want to go down there. Even if her heart was beating furiously and her body and even mind was begging her to go and explore.

Hesitantly, she got up and closed the passageway. She could pretend like this never happened and that she has no idea something like this even exists in the first place.

However, she could not go to sleep now with all this new curiosity and energy thrumming in her veins. Without even thinking, she left the room in just her nightgown and slippers. To go where? she had absolutely no idea. Maybe she could go back and sit in her balcony? She did not get the chance to do so yet and look at the vie-

Her inner monologue shut down the second she opened the door to her room only to see Fenrys just entering his. At the sound, he turned around and looked at her face. Or at what he could see from the darkness. Then his gaze fell upon her exposed shoulders and the upper part of her breasts due to the low cut of the nightgown. His gaze turned even darker as he went even further down and saw her exposed legs. She thanked the darkness of the room, only the moon slightly illuminating her body but hiding her face, scars and most importantly, her neck, that is still as horrible as it was in the morning, from his deadly gaze. Hopefully he was far away enough and the hall was dark enough to not see her scars. She would most definetly make Lorcan pay for this. She would also have to go and ask Isolde for some kind of a healing cream to apply. Discreetly, of course.

His gaze came back to her face, as he closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, clenched and unclenched his fists, exhaled and finally, opened them again as he calmly asked, "Where are you going?"

For some reason, she felt nervous under his gaze and found herself fidling with the edge of her nightgown as she replied surprisingly cooly, "Out. Get some fresh air."

His gaze narrowed "In...that?"

Well, he was right it would be foolish to walk around with this much skin exposed, not to mention the ugly mark on her neck. But, y/n would rather cut out her eye than admit someone like Fenrys is right. So, she looked at him arrogantly "And? I can do whatever I like."

"There are male servants here."

"Well, might as well give them a show."

The second she said that, he was right in front of her in an instant. So close that y/n could feel his chest slightly touching hers, causing goosebumps to arise all over her body. She could only see the outlines of his face and even that was enough to make her feel squirmy. She only hoped he can not see below her head.

"You are not going anywhere in that."

Y/n smirked "Why? Are you jealous?"

He also gave her a cruel smirk as he said, "I would rather get eaten by a Wyvern than ever feel jealous over you. It is simply that your current state is not helping your 'innocent' image. Leaving your room late at night? Hmm I wonder where do you go. Maybe to conspire somethings just like you were sent here to do by your High Lord or whatever?"

At that, all the girlish feelings she felt for him at that moment, melted away, leaving only anger and disgust. This was the Fenrys she should always excpect when it comes to her.

"How can you even entertain such an idiotic thought? Believe me neither my ex High Lord nor I are so bored that we need to cross worlds and start trouble in a foreign place."

"You are right. Because, after all, you do seem like a coward. Or at the very least someone who has no meaning in their life."

"W-what?! Of course...of course I have a purpose! I am a warrior, a respected persona in my world."

"And? those are all titles, images you put on. Even in this world you are a coward."

"What even makes you say that?"

"I saw it from the second I winnowed you here. You put up this brave act that no one scares you but believe me, I know that is all a nice little lie. In fact, you are useless. You are of no help here. You think that just because my family is softening towards you that you are one of us?" He chuckles at that and then continues "You will never fit in. I see you for what you are. An annoying brat who thinks the world revolves around her. So I say this one last time. Find your way out of here and leave as soon as possible. You are an extra headache I can not tolerate." with that, he turned around and went into his room, shutting his door and leaving her shattered in the middle of the dark hall. That bastard! He did not even give her time to respond.

She should not feel this way. She has heard much worse throughout her lifetime. He is just jealous that she is making peace with his family. Besides, who does he think he is? A nobody. His words should not hold any value to her because he is an uncultured caveman- or cavemale who is and will always be below her. She will find a way and go to her world and be happy again and and...and forget him and...all of his cruel words that...felt like 5 different sharp knifes being stabbed into her chest.

What was this pain? She is not a coward. How can he so easily judge her without even knowing her? This pain felt too real. Not even Azriels words hurt this much.

But she did not cry. She stopped crying that the day she killed him in the forest. And so, as she stared at his closed door, she knew what to do.

Y/N ran back to her room, furiously slamming the door shut behind her. She paced for a few moments, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within her chest. After waiting for what felt like an eternity to ensure no one would disturb her, she moved swiftly near her bed where a loose floorboard awaited her touch. With practiced hands, she pried it open, revealing the passageway.

Before she descended, she retrieved the large sharp needle she had been carrying with herself for the past few days, along with a small lamp that emitted a soft, comforting light. Tucking these essentials securely into the folds of her cloak, Y/N steeled herself for what lay ahead and descended the narrow stairs that led into the depths below.

How many stairs were there? It seemed endless, the damp smell growing stronger with each step she took. The walls around her were slick with moisture, echoing faint drips of water that added to the oppressive atmosphere. Y/N's grip tightened on the needle, her knuckles turning white as she navigated the dimly lit passage. She tucked her wings as close to her as possible.

The air grew colder as she descended further, the silence broken only by the sound of her own footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Shadows flickered ominously, playing tricks on her weary mind. Despite the discomfort and the ominous surroundings, Y/N pressed on, driven by a determination fueled by both fear and necessity.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of descending into the bowels of the earth, Y/N reached a small landing. In front of her, was some sort of a large circular entryway that was made out of earth and rock.

She slowly got closer to it while also inspecting the area. There was nothing else but this entryway before her. The rest of the space was made out of rock. When she reached it, the touched her hand on to it but...how do you get through this thing?

She knew this was a circular door of some sorts because there were cracks around it. But how does one even move a thing so large and heavy?

As Y/N stood before the large entryway, carved from earth and rock, she couldn't help but marvel at its craftsmanship and wonder about its purpose. The door, if it could be called that, seemed seamlessly integrated into the natural stone surroundings, its surface adorned with intricate runes and symbols that glowed faintly in response to her touch.

She traced her fingers along the cracks that outlined the circular shape, feeling the cool, smooth texture of the ancient stone beneath her fingertips. The door appeared solid and formidable, its size and weight suggesting it would require tremendous force to move.

Taking a step back, Y/N surveyed the area around her. The chamber was quiet, save for the faint echoes of her own breathing. The walls were smooth and unyielding, offering no clues as to how the door might be opened. She glanced down at the large sharp needle she had brought with her, contemplating its use.

With a deep breath, Y/N approached the door once more, this time examining the runes and symbols more closely. They seemed to pulse with a subtle energy, responding to her presence in ways she couldn't quite understand. She recalled stories of ancient magic and hidden passages, wondering if this door held the key to unlocking secrets long forgotten.

As she pondered her next move, a soft rumbling sound echoed through the chamber, causing her to startle. The ground beneath her feet trembled slightly, and she realized with a mix of awe and trepidation that the door was responding to her presence.

A low, melodic hum filled the air as the runes on the door shimmered brighter. Y/N took a cautious step back as the massive stone panels of the door began to shift, grinding against each other with ancient mechanisms coming to life. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the circular entryway began to slide.

Heart racing with anticipation, Y/N watched in awe as the door moved, revealing a narrow opening beyond. The air around her seemed to crackle with magic, a tangible presence that beckoned her forward.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, the door came to a stop, revealing another narrow and dark passage. She sighed, but surged forward as she went through the door into the darkness beyond.

After about 10 minutes, she came to a clearing and dear Mother....this place...whatever it was....was gorgeous. It was a huge opening but what made it so breathtaking were the millions of glowing crystals. The ground, the floor and the walls were all covered in luminescent crystals of all colors, and shapes, each it seemed, with a unique magical property. Some crystals glow softly, illuminating the way, while others emit melodies that resonate through the air.

There were little waterfalls that created small, narrow lakes passing through the crystals. There was even a medium sized pond that was glowing, maybe it also had crystals underneath. When she turned around, it looked as if she came out of a mountains cave.

This place was gorgeous! Did anyone else know of it? She did not know but what she did know was that y/n needed to explore further. She stepped on the ground and the crystals did not even hurt her feet.

There were large ones, tall ones, so tall that she could see her whole body on it. The calming sounds coming from them made her feel so relaxed. Did this place offer some kind of healing properties? Because y/n surely forgot all her mixed emotions and pain the second she landed here. The air was also so fresh and clean and yet, it also carried a maicel scent with it.

As she walked, she came across another small passage but this one was illuminated by thousands of tiny glowing, white crystals. She followed the light to see what this road held.

As she walked through the illuminated passage of glowing crystals, Y/n's curiosity mingled with a growing sense of unease. The ethereal light seemed to lead her forward, drawing her deeper into the unknown. Each step echoed softly against the crystal-lined walls, creating an eerie yet mesmerizing atmosphere.

Finally, the passage opened into a small clearing bathed in a gentle, radiant glow. Y/n blinked, trying to make sense of what lay before her. There, amidst the soft luminescence, stood a mirror unlike any she had ever seen.

Wait. Was this thing like the Ouroboros? The Mirror of Beginnings and Endings? Does this also show you your true self or something like that? What if it shows you your future?

Well it must do something special since it is hidden here.

However, she was not expecting what happened after she came closer to the mirror.

Y/n fell to her knees in shock.

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[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Cellbit runs an alchemy shop with his family, and he's also the lost prince of the Gato Kingdom, but he isn't, but he really really isn't, you've gotta believe him, he isn't, really, he isn't, you've gotta-

For day seven of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Royalty/Family

-

The day starts off normally:

Cellbit wakes up to find himself alone in bed, Roier having already gone to work downstairs in the store.

He lazes beneath the covers before hearing his son shouting in the other room. Grudgingly, he gets up, slides on his slippers and his bathrobe, and he goes to get Richarlyson settled with a new coloring book because, according to Richarlyson, Pepito ate the last one.

(Pepito did not eat the last one.)

Cellbit goes back into his bedroom to change, and then he goes to the wash basin in the hallway to brush his teeth and wash his face. He goes to the kitchen, shoves a singe slice of bread in his mouth for breakfast, tells the kids to behave, decides to live in ignorance and believe that they actually listened to him, and then, finally, he goes downstairs to help Roier with the shop.

That's when things get weird because, instead of the normal dozen or so customers they usually get in the mornings before things get busy, there are a handful of people in shiny armor with pointy swords, and there's a woman with cat ears leaning against the counter talking at an indifferent Roier.

Cellbit freezes on the stairs. Absently, his hands raise to his own ears, thankfully pinned down today with his alchemical goggles. He tends to have them out more days than not now, but. Well. Old habits die hard.

"I really don't know what you're talking about," Roier casually say. He isn't even looking at the woman, he's, instead, inspecting his nails- recently painted by Jaiden and absolutely adorable, just like he is. "But we do have a sale on luck potions if you wanna try one of those."

The woman's eyebrow twitches, and, for whatever reason, Cellbit doesn't think that she's here to buy something. Between the fine quality of her clothes and the literal knights with her and her entire aura, she just screams royalty, and that's a bad thing.

That's a really bad thing.

But Roier seems to have it under control, so, silently, Cellbit starts sneaking back up the stairs. If Roier needs him, he'll scream, and then Cellbit will rush down and kill everybody in the room and blame it on a sudden alchemical reaction gone wrong. Easy.

Except:

The door to the living quarters slams open and Pepito comes rushing out of it with tears streaming down his face.

"Apa!" he cries, leaping into Cellbit's arms and nearly sending him stumbling back down the stairs. "Richarlyson ate my crayons and now he's dying!"

(Richarlyson is not dying.)

Cellbit can practically smell the irritation coming off of Roier, even if he can't see him with his back turned to both him and the store and the really annoying royalty inside.

And, sure, Cellbit is annoyed, too, but he's also a father. So he just sighs and holds his son and lets him cry into his shoulder.

"Who's there?" one of the knights asks.

There's the sound of a sword being drawn, and then there's the sound of another sword being drawn and, really, is a peaceful retirement too much to ask for? Pac and Mike got one. Bad got one. Even Etoiles has some sort of retirement plan he's supposedly following between father-daughter dungeon-busting field trips.

The way Pepito is being held has him looking down the stairs and at the very rude people about to kill his parents, so Cellbit turns around so that Pepito is facing the door instead. He's always preferred looking danger in the face, anyway; it's much easier to be stabbed in the back than the front, after all.

Cellbit passively looks from one knight to another. He skips his eyes over the woman entirely. He catches Roier's eye, subtly rolls his own eyes, adjusts his hold on Pepito.

"Sorry," Cellbit says, "but my son is dying. I'll be right back."

"He's dead!" Pepito wails, ever-helpful. He's such a good kid.

The woman frowns. Cellbit doesn't think he likes her face. It's too... uncanny, like a doll come to life. Or, rather, like an image escaped from the mirror above the wash basin, and Cellbit does not like the implications of that, thanks.

As the knights start to advance, the woman holds up a hand to stop them.

"Hurry up," she says.

"Yeah," Roier agrees. "Tell Richas to die quicker, we have company."

Pepito screeches right into Cellbit's ear, making him wince very angrily in Roier's direction; all Roier does is wink and motion with his fingers for Cellbit to hurry up.

Cellbit quickly takes Pepito back into their living quarters and puts him down on the sofa.

Richarlyson is on the floor, very calm, very much not dying, and very much using Pepito's crayons in his own coloring book.

Pepito gasps, tears gone and replaced with wide, shocked eyes.

"But you ate them!" he exclaims.

Cellbit sighs, "Your brother is a magician, now can you two please behave for ten minutes while Roier and I deal with those people downstairs?"

Richarlyson's head perks up. "There are people downstairs?"

Cellbit nods. "Bad people, probably. If you hear glass breaking, you know what to do."

It's Richarlyson's turn to nod.

They have a plan. If things go down in the shop, Richarlyson and Pepito stay upstairs and hide until either Cellbit or Roier goes to get them. If the kids hear glass breaking, they are to escape out their bedroom window and climb down the tree outside and run to their Uncle Bad's house until Cellbit and Roier can get rid of the bad guys and save the day.

(Roier's words, not Cellbit's. Apparently, calling unruly customers or the police "the enemy" is bad. Go figure.)

Cellbit makes the kids both pinky promise him to follow the plan before letting out a long, stressed-out breath and starting back downstairs.

First, though, he dips into the kitchen and grabs his favorite butcher knife from off of the counter and tucks it into the custom-made sheath hidden beneath his jacket. Just in case.

Once downstairs, he's immediately manhandled by the knights until he's pushed up against the counter. Unfortunately, he isn't pushed behind the counter. But at least he can act as a shield... just in case.

On instinct, Cellbit reaches behind himself and takes Roier's hand. Roier takes it and squeezes gently, his thumb rubbing little circles into the skin by his thumb.

"Well," Cellbit says, looking from the knights to the woman, "you want something. What is it."

It isn't a question. It's more of a demand, really, and maybe he's stupid for demanding answers of royalty, but, like. Fuck the monarchy. What have they ever done for him?

The woman speaks: "We're looking for whichever one of you is Cellbit."

If they weren't already pinned down, Cellbit's ears would be flattening themselves to the top of his head. He bites back a hiss and instead just squeezes Roier's hand.

The woman continues with, "I'd like to bring him back with us to-"

"Yeah, okay," Roier casually says. "I'm Cellbit, hello."

Out of the corner of his eye, Cellbit can see Roier waving; he stifles a smile. He's so stupid...

Cellbit turns around and gasps dramatically. "Gatinho, no! You can't leave us!"

Roier bites his lip and looks away, turning his head to the side.

"But guapito," he says, dropping his voice an octave just for effect, "if I don't go, then... what about you and the children? They might-" (He moans and bows his head.) "-kill you. And then what would I do with myself?"

"Oh, don't worry!" the woman quickly says. "We won't hurt your family! That's why we're here, actually, to bring you and your family with us."

Cellbit ignores her. He reaches across the counter and cups Roier's cheek with his free hand, gently nudges his face until he raises his head and looks Cellbit in the eye; Roier's eyes are already wet with unshed tears, wow, he's good.

"But what will I do without you?" Cellbit demands, pitching his voice up just slightly. "Don't be stupid! I love you, pendejo!"

(They do this a lot, believe it or not. It drives Richarlyson crazy every time they do it because it somehow always ends up with them kissing until they're out of breath and shaky in the knees.)

"Não!" Roier cries. He squeezes his eyes shut and rips himself away from Cellbit entirely, staggering back and leaning against a display shelf full of anti-gravity potions. "Don't say that!"

"Say what?" Cellbit asks. "I love you!"

Roier screams and flinches against the case. "Não!"

Cellbit leans over the counter. "I love you."

Roier moans his time, his hands flying out wildly and grasping onto seemingly-random bottles on the shelf. "Não!!"

Cellbit extends a hand. "I. Love. You. Te amo, guapito."

One of the knights asks, "What the fuck is going on?"

And then the knights all start shouting as Roier opens his eyes and lunges to shove a potion into Cellbit's hands.

Cellbit grins and yanks the cork out of the bottle and chugs the potion and slams the empty bottle against the floor. It shatters, and he jumps.

"What the fuck?" the woman demands.

Cellbit twists mid-air and lands on the ceiling. He waves down at Roier, blows him a kiss, and takes off running for the back potion room. The door is closed, but the ventilation window above the door is open because he was supposed to be making potions right now. Silver linings.

He dives through the window, just barely managing to squirm through. He grunts, frowns, regrets getting this old, makes it through.

His goggles are nudged off of his head, though, leaving his ears on full display as he escapes into the potion room.

The woman gasps, "Get back here! Cellbit!"

But Roier just cheers, "Corre, gatinho!"

The potion room's door thuds and shakes in its hinges as the knights all slam against it. But, like, fuck those guys.

Cellbit runs down the length of the ceiling until he's reached the wall facing the alley behind the shop. He steps onto the wall, and then he runs down that until he's by the window. Again, ventilation, he should be working right now, but no, he can never know a moment of peace.

The potion starts running out just as Cellbit crawls through the window and lands on the shop's outside wall. He wrinkles his nose at the smell, but it's fine. Just trash, it's fine.

There's shouting from the front of the shop and the sounds of more bottles shattering. Roier sounds fine, though. He's even laughing, of course he is. He's badass, and Cellbit loves him, and Cellbit just wishes he was there to watch Roier swing his sword around like the sexy piece of shit he is.

The potion's effects wear off as Cellbit's feet touch the ground; two minutes, just as he'd made it to be.

He can see Richarlyson and Pepito running for it at the far end of the alley. Good, they actually followed directions for once.

Cellbit turns to run after them and get Bad's help, but he's stopped by a firm hand grabbing his shoulder from behind.

He snarls and pulls his knife out of his coat, spinning and slashing and just narrowly missing the woman's throat.

"Cellbit!" she shouts. "Calm down, it's just me!"

Cellbit responds by lunging at her with his teeth bared. He's been filing his teeth down for years, but he knows that he still cuts an intimidating figure when he's pissed enough.

The woman doesn't seem afraid, though. If anything, she just seems angry. And sad. Mostly angry.

She easily sidesteps his attack and yells, "It's me! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Oh, that's cute. Royalty asking why someone would want to hurt them, that's funny. They have the self-awareness of a walnut, all of them.

"Stop shouting 'it's me'!" Cellbit snaps. "Why should I care who you are?"

The woman's face starts turning red from frustration. "Because I'm your sister!"

Oh, that's rich.

"I don't have a sister," Cellbit sneers.

He swipes at her. Of course he does, he doesn't have a sister. He didn't have a family before he and the others found Richarlyson, and he only has one now that he has his kids and his husband.

"Then why do we have the same ears?" the woman demands.

She ducks under his knife and sweeps his legs out from under him. He falls and hisses and growls and does all sorts of things that princes might do because he isn't royalty. He knows that for certain. His first memory was him eating the corpse of a soldier on an empty battlefield, and it's with that image in mind that he snaps his teeth at the woman's throat.

"Only the royal family of the Gato Kingdom is born with feline features," the woman snaps. "Idiot!"

"Fuck the Gato Kingdom," Cellbit spits. "Your war destroyed everything I had!"

The woman's eyes turn sad. "It destroyed everything I had, too. It took my family from me. My friends. My home. We're just now starting to rebuild, and-"

She shrieks as Cellbit manages to flip their positions so that she's the one being pinned to the ground.

"So you show up and try kidnapping someone to fill in for your lost prince?" he snarls. "You people haven't changed."

The woman's mouth thins into an angry line. "I'm not trying to kidnap you! I just want to bring you home!"

"I don't have a home! This is my home!"

"You really don't remember, do you?" she asks, voice low. She isn't even struggling any more, not really. "It's me, your sister. Bagi."

The name stings Cellbit's brain in a way he doesn't like.

"I don't know you," he firmly says. "You don't know me. Leave my family alone."

He stands, hands shaking, head spinning. He doesn't like this.

Roier calls his name from the front of the building.

Cellbit, sure that this Bagi won't do anything while she's busy crying, turns and starts running towards the store.

He doesn't make it three steps before getting thwacked in the back of the head with something large and heavy and metal.

"Sorry," Bagi flatly says.

As he falls to the ground, his knife falls from his hand and ends up just out of reach.

He lands on his stomach and immediately tries standing again.

But he's stopped by a foot on his back pressing him down.

"I'll be sure to bring your family with us," Bagi tells him. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Could have fooled me," Cellbit mutters.

Darkness takes him at last as Bagi smacks him again with her weapon, and all Cellbit can think is that he hopes that the kids ended up making it to Bad's after all.

[jacesbeloved]

ladylike ✷ j. velaryon

✷ ⎯ summary: wherein the battle between the blacks and the greens has one of the most feared sellswords picking a side—for the right price.

✷ ⎯ tags: jacaerys velaryon x afab!reader (18+)

✷ ⎯ notes: happens before luke d-worded, also this is not beta read sorry!!! anw i hope u like this new fic since i tried something new with it (+ the cover)! comments and likes r very appreciated <3 if u want to chat or request for something, my asks r open :D

"This is not enough. If we are to show our power, I say we make the first move at Harenhall. Burn their blockade to send a message." Daemon's suggestion was full of fire, turning to the Queen with an intent of starting and leading this war.

The figures around the painted table shake heads in their dismay. Looking at the Queen with worried looks as she stares blankly at the table in front of her with revenge in his eyes.

"We cannot wager on just yet, your grace. We may have the dragons but our men our far too short in amount," Bartimos Celtigar argues.

Rhaenys expresses her agreement, "I agree with Lord Celtigar. If we are to win this war, we need to approach it with careful thinking both externally and internally. I suggest not making any haste decisions, your grace."

"Haste decisions? What a jest." Daemon scoffs. The jab at the princess results in nothing, choosing to ignore the Targaryen prince.

The rest of the table on continues on about their plan. It was Daemon against majority of the council members; he was pushing for Rhaenyra to attack, get the starting advantage while the others disagreed.

They may have numerous dragons, but it is still hard to gauge their capacity especially with the beastly Vhagar in service of Aemond Targaryen.

By the time when every member has dispersed to their own affairs, Jacaerys and Lucerys head back to their chambers. The younger Velaryon sighing as he rests his head on the thick wooden frame.

"Are you...are you nervous of where Mother is sending us?" Lucerys asks Jacaerys, who had already been fixing his stuff for tonight's trip to the North.

Jacaerys noted the look of nervousness on his brother's face. Halting in his actions to reassure him. "I am worried, a bit, but we are doing this to defend our mother's rightful throne. The Greens have no right to steal it from her."

"And anyway, you will be going to the Stormlands, am I correct?"

"And you to the North," Lucerys says, beginning on arranging his stuff as well.

After which, Jacaerys made his way back to the great hall, two guards approach him. Apparently, Daemon is asking him for a word outside of the castle. Somewhere near the edge, he figures.

And he was correct, Daemon is by the edge. Overlooking the busy seas and cloudy skies with his hand on the butt of his sword, the usual tout look on his face as Jacaerys makes his way to him. He doesn't notice his stepson approaching until Jace is calling him first.

"What is it that you want, Daemon?" Jacaerys questions.

Daemon does not move, except for glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. "Each second we waste, the Hightowers are celebrating their usurped throne. Westeros think of them as the rightful heirs of the iron throne."

Jacaerys' jaw clenches, remaining quiet. Daemon calls him closer. Caraxes appearing to his sight as the beast flies above them and around the other mountains of the island.

Daemon pauses for a minute, "It has seem as though your mother could do all but launch this war."

"Mind your words, Daemon," Jacaerys warns. "Mother has decided no action be done until her word. Your men are well to know that."

The older Targaryen lets out a deep exhale as he turns around, leaning on the stone block, his eyes set on somewhere away. The two of them stay there in silence before Daemon speaks again.

"Two days from now, your mother will send you to the North for Lord Cregan Stark. I am advising you not to."

"Not?"

"Instead, you will go to King's Landing this evening. I have men there that will take you to the place we need if we want to win this war before it even starts. No bloodshed needed, as you and your mother so prefer. Am I correct?"

Jacaerys looks at him wearily. The tone of his mother's husband sounding suspicious enough as the smile on Daemon's lips.

"Why me? Why not you?"

"I am needed at the blockade," Daemon answers simply.

Silence is what Daemon receives as a response. "It is up to you. As the heir to the throne after your mother takes back her rightful place at the iron throne, it is your responsibility, already, to start thinking as the future king."

More silence follows. By this time, Daemon is smirking at him as he toys with a small piece of paper that he had received earlier through a raven from King's Landing.

"Is mother aware of this?" When it was Daemon's turn to be silent, Jacaerys already has his answer.

As the day passed, Jacaerys watched his mother struggle with her unborn child. Every now and then looking outside the window. Lucerys has been everything of help to her, aiding her in possible ways while Jacaerys pondered on about what Daemon told him.

As the words of Daemon echo in his head, Each second we waste, the Hightowers are celebrating their usurped throne...

"What am I even doing here?" Jacaerys sighs to himself, the hood of his cloak hanging lowly on his head whilst various chatters and lewd noise from the sketchy alleyways fill his ears.

"Here you are," the men—man that Daemon apparently knew halts him at a seemingly plain brown door. It was clearly at the back of some building, some brothel Jacaerys guesses.

"Are you not going to accompany me inside?"

The armored man shakes his head, looking side to side, "My payment only serves me up to here," he pauses. "Go inside and whatever is in that paper is what you seek. Ask for a Lady." Jacaerys sighs at his instruction, throwing him the bag of gold coins that Daemon had given him.

Jacaerys takes a deep breath before he goes inside. A circus of lights and cloths dance around his sight. The busy environment with numerous naked women pulling around men of various stature.

"Good evening, my lord," one woman purrs, draping her arms across the expanse of his chest. He coughs awkwardly, shaking his head.

Look for the biggest woman, she is the keeper.

Jacaerys need not to move for a few minutes of standing there, he is pulled away by three women. "What—Hey, I am looking for the keeper," he tried to say but the women ignored him. Pushing past numerous people before they arrive at a room.

"Jacaerys Velaryon," a woman with a gold-colored dress speaks. An eyebrow raised at him before he even gets to pull down his hood.

"Prince Daemon had already informed me of what it is that you seek, however I fear it is not here."

She will tell you a Lady is not there. But a Lady is there.

"I was informed you would say that. However, Daemon told me she is here. A Lady is here." The keeper grins, waving off the women that clung on his arms.

"If that is what you believe, then I shan't hinder you from finding," she looks at him up and down, "The Lady."

"You may explore the brothel...confidently. We will help you no more than ensuring your protection inside of this establishment. If you are unable to find a Lady befit for your liking, your protection outside of this is not of our concern anymore, my prince."

"What does a Lady look like?" Jacaerys asks the keeper.

The keeper merely shrugs, waving at the women around Jacaerys. "Those are ladies, my prince. Everyone here is a lady."

Jacaerys clenches his jaw at the useless answer, leaving the room with the keeper's chuckles echoing in his ears.

She has a scar on her left. Burgundy hair with embellishments.

There is one that catches his eye. The burgundy lady showing off skin with a light pink fabric covering her body. He does not quite see the scar but the hair, he does.

The woman was pretty occupied with bringing this one guard somewhere. The guard had his hand in hers, eyes longing with hunger.

"Her. I need her," Jacaerys calls out quietly, fast in his steps to follow the couple. He loses sight of them for a moment before he sees them once more, finally entering a room.

Multiple women hiss at him as he follows them. Taking one more breath before he goes inside of the room only to see no one but the lady.

"It is rather uncourteous to barge into a lady's room, is it not?"

Jacaerys takes a look around, it was only the two of you inside of that room. You were leaning lazily on of the bedposts, the darkness hindering Jacaerys from seeing your face.

"Where is the guard?" Jacaerys asks.

Your eyebrows furrow in feign innocence, "What guard, my prince?"

"The guard—you came in here with a guard. Where is he?"

"I do not know of such guard that you seek, my prince," your purr strikes that one chord inside of his chest.

"If it is a man that you seek, my apologies but this is a brothel. The street of silk has a different brothel for those that seek men."

Jacaerys shakes his head. "A Lady is what I look for. Burgundy hair, your height, has a scar on her rib."

You hum, silently disposing of the blade in your sleeves to get on the bed. Alluringly pulling off the sheer cover that you wear on your shoulders.

"Burgundy hair is most definitely, the scar, however, I am afraid you would have to find out for yourself," you grin at him, slowly making your way towards the end of the bed where he stood.

"I do not seek such service. I was told a Lady is what you are."

"We are all ladies, my prince," you cock your head to the side, standing on your knees as you finally see his face thanks to the very dim light above.

You were the most beautiful woman he had laid his eyes on. It was as if he was enchanted the moment you put your hands on his shoulders, lips stretching side to side.

Once you are in her grasp, it is all but a pleasurable transaction. You would have to act fast, not to—

"What is it you ponder on about, my prince?" You break him from his thoughts. Trailing your hand down his tunic as you kept your eyes on his. He was speechless, unsure of what to do. "You only have to say the word and I assure you, I will make you forget about them before next morrow."

I must think straight, he repeats in head over and over again until your lips have already touched his neck. Hands expertly unbuckling his cloak before he can even notice.

Jacaerys is then left there, in his tunic and trousers, blood awfully rushing through his lower regions as you now grab his hands and place them all over your body.

Your lips suck and bite tenderly at every skin you come across, grinding your body in his hands as you whisper sweet nothings. Slowly, but surely, pulling him to the bed.

Jacaerys' eyes roll to the back of his head when your hand falls to palm his growing erection. A soft gasp leaving his mouth as you do so.

Refer to her as Lady if you want to get her on our side. Offer her whatever she wants.

He bites his lips, inhaling deeply before he stills himself from your ministrations. "The Queen is in need of your services, Lady."

You chuckle, "The Queen? The prince seems to be in more dire need of my..." you pause, "...services."

"We have gold to offer. More than you may think of. More than any has offered you, I am confident," Jacaerys stammered on with his words, unable to speak straight especially with your gaze on him.

"I do not need gold, my prince. I have gold to spare," you reply back, slipping off the bed to turn Jacaerys around.

"Then what is it that you want?" Your hands grip his shoulders firmly, pushing him to sit on the edge of bed.

"I want you to tell me what you want, my prince. After all, I am a Lady and you are a prince. I live to serve my prince," the words roll off your tongue way too smooth for Jacaerys' liking, your ability to flatter seemingly too good.

You get down on your knees, brushing away your hair as you look up at Jacaerys. The prince breathes heavily, his open mouth unable to let words leave.

"Just relax, my prince. Tell me, is this what you seek?" You breathe in his ear, palming his hard-on as you await his word. He is like stone on your hand, his shoulders tensed and extended.

"I—N-no..." shaky words leave his mouth.

You halt, "No? Do you want me to stop, my prince?"

It takes a minute for everything to register in Jacaerys' head before he's speaking again. "No, my lady. Don't stop."

Your lips stretch into a grin, getting on your knees as you untie the string of his trousers. Jacaerys hastily helping you take them off. When he pulls it off, he's pulling you up by your face to plant a kiss on your lips.

You were caught a bit off-guard and so you pull away, the two of you staring at each other. Jacaerys is staring up at you with heaved breaths.

Pushing him down again, you get on your knees and push your head back. Hand gripping his hard shaft. He lets out a deep guttural groan as you do so, the man biting his lips as you start moving your hand.

You pull your hand away to spit on it before going back to jerking his cock again. Head tilted up to watch his reaction as you put your lips on the head of his cock. Tongue swirling around the head making him thrash his upper body around. Groans and whimpers leaving his mouth.

Soon enough, the prince is all but calm as you bob your head up and down his cock. His arms flailing all around as he looks for something to grip.

"Does it feel good, my prince?" You ask innocently.

Jacaerys breathes, "Yes, oh gods, just like that, my lady. It feels so good."

The encouragement shakes your core when his hands come over to rest on the sides of your head, his hips thrusting up shyly which made his tip reach the back of your throat. Jacaerys' release evidently coming up.

"Don't stop! Please, don't stop," he whimpers desperately trying to reach his high. Hips now moving on its own as you focus on breathing through your nose. The rough movements of the known gentle and calm prince igniting your core.

Sounds of gags and deep moans fill the room. Next thing you know, you're pushing his thighs back down on the bed as you take back control. Sucking his cock with hollowed cheeks while swirling your tongue and hands around the length. My lady was all that was pouring out of his mouth.

"I am near," he informs you. "Do not stop, my lady."

A loud groan sounds through the room. Jacaerys' chest heaving up and down as he explodes inside of your mouth. Quick tingles running through his body the moment your tongue licks around his tip, jolting when the overstimulation hits him.

You wipe your mouth. Spitting out his seed in a random towel on the floor while keeping a keen eye on his body.

"My lady," he pulls himself up to his shoulders, taking a look at his surroundings only to see you dressed in a top. You raise an eyebrow at him, coming close until you're both an inch away from each other's lips.

His eyes shift from your eyes to your lips, internally debating with himself before he seals your lips.

You return the gesture, swiping your tongue on his plump lips before biting something inside of your mouth. The sides of your lips stretching when you see his eyes slant.

And from there, Jacaerys' sight goes black.

For hours on end, you navigated through the darkness. An unconscious prince with a sellsword in the middle of the Blackwater Bay, sailing with hope in a dark heart.

Slowly, the prince's eyes flutter open to a dark and unfamiliar surrounding. He froze. The wood against his body prompting him to jolt upward. You, who was rowing the small boat, watched him unfazed. Much more irritated at the unnecessary commotion than the sword that Jacaerys draws to point at you.

"Where am I? Who are you? What have you done?" his questions shoot at you like a crossbow.

"Calm down, my prince. If you do not think of jumping or killing me with that sword, we may arrive at shore no less than an hour."

He inches the tip of the sword closer to your neck, moving with caution, "Where are we?"

"Calm now, my prince," you let go of one oar to slowly move the tip of his sword away from your neck. Maintaining eye contact with the prince as you smile, "That wasn't how you were acting earlier."

Jacaerys' cheeks faintly flush, gulping silently. You snicker at that, answering the prince. "I am bringing you back to Dragonstone, my prince."

if you liked my writing, you might want to consider buying me a ko-fi <3

[zoros-bandana]

y/n gets turned into a child by someone’s devil fruit power and zoro takes care of her

Childs Play

(SFW)

Warning: protective Zoro, yelling, mention of fighting, mention of swords, mention of poison and medicine, mention of being hurt

Summary: After being attacked by the Ko Ko no Mi and turned into a child, Zoro refused to let you out of his sight until you turned back. Losing his way back to the ship his day only grew worse, tackling numerous setbacks as he fought to return you to your friends; desperate to turn you back.

Word Count: 3,400

Zoro knew splitting up was a bad idea.

From the moment the crew had landed on the island he had a strange feeling, instantly sinking his stomach. It was if someone was watching him, and although he remained senseless around the rest of the crew, he grew paranoid something were to happen to you.

His protests were ignored as the crew decided to split, losing you to a gathering including the navigator and sniper; heightening his fears more. Luffy encouraged him that you were strong and would be okay, distracting Zoro with concerns for his clueless captain as they trailed through the island.

Once the crew had reunited at the designated spot perched on the other side of the island, Zoro's fears resurfaced. His group was the last to arrive - due to his own useless sense of direction and Luffy's lack of attention - everybody unusually quiet upon their return. There were no half-ass remarks about their lateness, no stab at his sense of direction, not even a smirk from Sanji.

Something was wrong.

Darting his eye around, Zoro noted everyone was here, all except for you. Your group bunched together, and despite your height difference, he could spot you easily within a busy crowd.

His heart dropped.

"Where's (Y/n)?" Zoro questions, his fears rising. His voice cracked as he spoke, clearly distressed upon his missing partner.

The crew you were assigned to looked at each other, sheepishly avoiding responding; knowing how protective he was over you. It was obvious to the crew how much he cared for you, giving into the constant teasing as soon as you confidently reciprocated his feelings.

"Well..." Nami finally spoke, looking behind her. "She's here"

Everybody's eyes darted to Nami, watching as she lead through a small child from behind her, hanging onto her leg. The small child resembled all you same features, carrying the same style and hair down to the miniature weapon attached to your hip. Slowly you lifted your head up, flashing your large bright eyes up to Zoro, almost pleading for him to help.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?" Zoro moved quickly towards Nami, meeting you as you held your arms out, letting him scoop you into his chest. He carefully tucked you into the open flap of his robe, holding you close as if to shield you from his own anger.

"We got attacked by a group of pirates. Y/n was stuck against someone with the Ko Ko no Mi, and he turned her into a child" Robin kept her voice poised, wishing to diffuse Zoro's rage.

"Well why didn't you get him to turn her back?"

"They fled the island before we had the chance"

Zoro sighed, darting his eye down to look at you, quickly checking over that you were okay. You had remained silent since he saw you, pressed tightly to the bodies of people who cared for you, feeling almost helpless of your small state. Although suffocated in the fabric of Zoro's robe you remained unharmed, not even a scratch resting upon your skin.

This time Zoro stood his ground, his paranoia had left you affected and he wouldn't let it happen to you again. He didn't care who listened to him, he needed to reverse what had happened to you, even if it meant doing it alone.

"Do you think you can turn her back?" Zoro looked down towards Chopper, having faith in the young doctors abilities.

Chopper thought for a moment, doubting his own skills. It would be a challenge, to reverse a devil fruit curse, however, the doctor was up for it; knowing it would help his friend.

"I'll do my best, Zoro!"

"That's my boy"

Dismissing the original plan, the crew headed back towards the ship, prioritising your health. As the island deemed quiet, a unanimous decision was made that exploring the island could wait until you were back to normal; or better yet find the pirate who attacked you. Zoro situated huddled in the middle of the crew, guarding you close to his body, your head resting against his chest. Every now and then you would make small squeaks, alerting him to look down, checking on you. He would meet your gaze, much wider and softer than when you were your regular age, eyes brimming with almost iridescent tears as if you were in a constant stage of worry.

Leaning down, Zoro swiftly pressed his lips to the top of your head, more comfort than romance, reassuring you that you were safe with him. As he looked up he stopped, halted by the sudden disappearance of the crew; having only seen them moments before. He looked around, checking every direction he could to search for any sign of his friends, listening out for their voices.

"Zoro?" you muffled, voice cracking in fear. You voice had heightened in pitch, making it seem almost deafening, as if you were straining your voice to be heard. "I'm scared"

Zoro grunted, his hand coming up to shield you, sliding you deeper under his robe. "It's alright, Y/n, nothing is going to happen to you"

"You promise?"

"Yeah, I promise"

Holding his other hand over his swords, Zoro decided to move, pressing on through the thick shrubs in hope to find someone from the crew. He called out various names, alternating through the crew, purposely leaving out Sanji due to bitter intent. When he was met with silence he gave up, swapping directions to trudge slowly up a steep hill.

It stood overly wide, however the incline provided a challenge, a slippery wet loosening his grip to climb. Huffing harder, Zoro dug his heels in firm, trudging on despite the obvious struggles. From his perspective, the top of the hill looked promising, proving a clear source of light to look down upon the island; hoping to make the whereabouts of the ship more noticeable.

As he eventually reached the top, Zoro noted a thick fog that wasn't there before. It circled around him quickly, hazing in deep purple and blue, stretching around as to push him to retreat back down where he came from. Deciding to push on he took a few steps into the fog, understanding the danger if he were to slip with you attached to him.

His movements were groggy, as if wading through water, slowing down the more he reached the apex of purple; unable to see. You coughed heavily, taking in the laced air, spluttering at the bitter taste. As Zoro inhaled he could feel his body begin to shut down, blackening out as if the fog held some kind of poisonous properties.

Swearing under his breath, Zoro tried to move, wishing to escape and get you to freedom, your body already growing limp in his chest. He didn't care what direction he faced, he needed to get you to freedom, even if it meant back down the hill.

His movements grew sluggish, slowing him to a holt, the fog clinging to his body in a tight pull. It weaved through his legs, sticking against him to weight him down, noticeably thickening as it made contact.

One hand continued to hold you against his chest, keeping hidden, delusional that it would shield you against the fog, but he had to try. His other loosened his sword, quickly pulling it into action, the coagulation thickening the longer he stayed still. In smooth motions he chopped around his legs, slicing through the thick purple clumps, careful not to range you in his swing.

As he attacked, the fog began to disperse, thinning into a light and pliable ribbon, dazzling in iridescent tones. It moved along the now visible grass, weaving like a snake on the run, frightened by his impressive techniques. The rest of the fog followed, leaving him gasping for deep breaths, relieved his senses were returning. Caught in his overwhelming breaths, Zoro dropped onto his knees, bending forward to cuddle you, listening out for any disturbance in your body.

Zoro's sword dropped next to his side, half hidden through the strands of grass, his care shifting back to you, his surroundings clear. He was unsure how this happened, viewing the island for hours in a quiet and peaceful light, the sudden attack seeming alien to the island he thought he knew.

In gentle pats, he tapped against your back, half-remembering Chopper's care upon a choking crewmate; actions softer due to your vulnerable build. You let out a hearty cough against his chest, relieving Zoro as he sat up, easing his tight hold against your frame. His eye was quick to look around, assessing his next move, noting a clear in his surroundings promising him what he previously believed.

Situated through a winding road, covered by a small village, sat the Thousand Sunny, the masts clear and calling to Zoro with inviting intent. He chucked a small smile, proud of his defeat, feeling less hopeless than before. Dismissing to anyone who wasn't you, he would argue his sense of directions were strong, however, having you here relying on him to guide you he held some uncertainty in that statement. The ship was now in plain sight, all Zoro had to do was push on and follow the sails.

Not without some help, however.

"Oi" Zoro outstretched his arm, pointing to the sails. "You see that out there?"

Your head turned, focusing on the ship you recognised well. It deemed bigger now you had shrunk, an advantage to you Zoro was sure of.

"Keep an eye on it for me, alright? I need you to guide us back there safely"

Agreeing with a small squeak, you repositioned to face out, adjusting your back against Zoro's chest. His hand stayed over you, keeping you pinned against him, proud of your continued determination to find your friends.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zoro noticed a strange figure lunging beside him, hurling towards him at outstanding speeds. In an instant Zoro reached for his swords, forgetting about the one lost through the grass, shielding you both in a cross of clattered metal.

There stood a moment of harsh clatter, echoing through your ears, almost deafening. As they collided, Zoro's hand came away, letting an unbalance tip you forward.

You hit the grass with a small yelp, rolling down the other side of the hill before Zoro had a chance to stop you; quickly falling out of his sight. Torn between following you and defending himself, Zoro struggled to keep focus, slipping against the wielded sword that would usually be split by his full attention.

The figure holding the sword revealed to be a man, no larger than Zoro's arm, fluttering in mid-air. Behind stood a pair of deep black wings, curling as they hummed with every flick, motioning a small gust of wind. As he opened his mouth, a blood curdling scream shot through the air, Zoro's ears popping at the sound. He had never come across someone so perplexing, unsure if this person was a figment of his imagination; twisted from the lack of air left from the fog.

Understanding he didn't have time to think it over, Zoro forced himself to pull whatever energy he had into this fight, willing to forget about your safety for a moment.

Clattering their blades with a steady rhythm, each reciprocated each others drawn attacks, matching one another perfectly. The man continued to dance around Zoro's head, spinning with grace and precision dodging each strike as neatly as Zoro did with him. They continued their dance for mere minutes, Zoro growing agitated at the passing time, knowing he needed to get to you quickly.

Switching his attention to the blade in his left hand, Zoro allowed the one in his right to curl around, swiping at the man's feet. The man forced another scream, dodging the attack as he moved to the left, striking back at Zoro with the same enthusiasm.

In the split second the man counteracted his attack, Zoro was preparing his next move, allowing a more predictable wave to fool the unsuspecting man. He had run this attack many times before, luring the man in for his upcoming sword style, itching to use it against someone as agile as him.

"Nana-Juu-Ni Pound Ho; 72 Pound Cannon!"

Landing on his feet, Zoro's eye caught his fallen sword, ignoring the sound of the man's body crashing to the ground. He didn't have the time nor the empathy to check the man's status, fleeing the scene his only chance and returning to you.

In one quick move he yanked back his sword, placing it steady into the holder, his body in a rush to follow in the direction you rolled.

Running down the hill, Zoro struggled to keep up, tripping over himself as he called out your name, unwilling to give up until he saw you. Fed up with the brutal antics of this island, a blistering heat burned his ears, ready to take you home. He was tired, ultimately exhausted by the building stress through the day, unsure why this once quiet island had turned against him now. He had lost you once, ending in a disaster, and he would be damned to let it happen again.

He couldn't lose you again.

"Y/N!" Zoro screamed, looking around desperately as he reached the base of the hill. Everything seemed like a blur, mixing into a wash of colour that stretched beyond the horizon. Everything seemed too much, too loud, his breathing so rapid he could feel his chest cave with each crack of his ribs.

"Zoro!"

Turning towards the sweet voice, Zoro tumbled into the grass, crawling until he met you; pulling you towards him in one tight move. His hands shook as he held you, deeply sorry for lowering his guard and putting you in danger. He couldn't imagine what he would do if he couldn't find you, see you, returning back to the ship with his tail between his legs desperate for assistance to find you.

His eye curled at the sight of your face, noting the specks of dirt and the tangle in your hair, down to the long scratch that dawned across your cheekbone, mimicking that of your captain.

He had caused this.

"I'm so sorry..." Zoro trailed off, positioning you back into his robe "I promise I'll get you back to the ship now, okay? Just stay tucked away and I'll do everything else. I'm sorry I let this happen"

Deciding to move on his promise, Zoro quickly returned to his feet, forgetting about the earlier agreement between you both. You looked over your shoulder, pointing towards a patch of blue dotted between tall pine trees, unusually sparse for this time of year. You didn't wish to let his regret linger over you both, nor did you wish to sit by after feeling Zoro be so deflated. "There".

Zoro followed your finger, nodding as he trusted your instincts more than his own, taking off towards the town that clouded the ship. He was quick to move, wishing to avoid lingering, feeling as if he had wasted enough time. He refused to part his eye off the sail, latching onto it, despite his clumsy attempt to wade to safety.

Taking in a deep breath, Zoro felt relieved stepping foot through the town, ignoring the blatant stares as he moved through the crowds of people. He knew it was an odd sight compared to the quiet life the townspeople were used to, a strange face shifting opposite the grain of people. He could sense their judgement as he picked up his pace, practically running through the street to get to the dock, relying on you to keep him concentrated.

You continued to point in the direction of the sail, knowing as soon as you were to stop Zoro would lose his sense of direction. You could sense his worry, however tried to remain calm, knowing the ship was gaining closer and soon you would be able to return to your usual size.

The familiar large black flag danced overhead, drawing you both in like a song. The sturdy lion-like figurehead a clear motive of who you were and what you aspired for with your friends. Everything was perfect and grand, just the way you remember it to be.

You were finally back.

You had arrived at The Thousand Sunny.

"Oi!" Zoro called, racing faster to the side of the ship, straining his voice up to whoever was on board. It was silent for mere moments, sinking his relief, unsure if there truely was anybody on board after all.

A shrill squeak of Chopper's voice muffled above him, stopping Zoro, unsure whether he was imagining the doctors words. As your head moved towards the sound, Zoro realised the additional presence, calling out once more to guide him.

A bold figure of Nami stood beside Chopper, screaming at Zoro for becoming lost; stating he only had one job. However, Zoro ignored her words, proudly hoisting you against his side, wrapped against his bicep. Jumping up he scaled the side of the ship, letting his impressive muscles guide his way with one hand.

"I did it!" Chopper beamed, waving his arms around to gain his attention. There was an undoubtably proud smile etched across his face, amazed at his own talent to brew such a mixture, following the book to precise instructions. Zoro returned the smile, the confidence in his voice encouraging you both to move faster.

"I didn’t think it could be done; finding an antidote for a devil fruit curse but here it is! I did it, Zoro!"

Landing firm on the deck, Zoro let you go, wriggling free out of his arms, watching as you met Chopper with an excited squeal. Your feet threatened to cave under you, speeding towards the young doctor with a rush of adrenalin, bursting to return back to how you were before. "Y/n, you'll be back to your normal size in no time at all"

Snatching the tall vial from his grip, you quickly sloshed down the thin blue liquid, underlying with a refreshing minty taste. You trusted your friend without a doubt, giving no rise into his outstanding care in the past; all the more reason to take the antidote.

Feeling the liquid run down your throat caused a slight burn, spreading through your body. In a moment of shock you dropped the vial, stepping away as your body creaked under your skin, building an uncomfortable climax.

Chopper called out to you, stepping forward as you finally collapsed, crying out as one-by-one your bones stretched out, familiarising back to your normal body. The sensation was more shocking than painful, unable to distinguish where in the body would be next; and how much longer it would last. Caught up in the motions you shut your eyes tight, wishing for the burn to fade soon. You were unable to distinguish Chopper's voice anymore - nor Zoro or Nami - spiralling into a web of darkness.

After one final brutal snap, your body eased, like a flicker of light shocking your body. A relived sigh delighting your voice, no longer high pitched or whining, deeper than you remembered it to be. You were panting heavily, the rush exhausting your body as you struggled to get up; feeling the presence of your friends still around you, much closer than before. A slight flutter opened your eyes up to the addition of more than just Zoro and Nami; your scream alerting the rest of the crew of your whereabouts. However, drawn towards him in the usual divine way, Zoro caught your attention.

Your eyes met up at Zoro as he squatted down in front of you, his hand coming up to your cheek. His touch was careful and warm, brushing your jaw with a slight squeeze of satisfaction seeing you the way he loved; just as you were. Behind his eye he was exhausted, a hard day defending you clearly taking the toll on his emotions, unsure how the day would plan out. But for now he was relieved to see you, feel you rest in the palm of his hand, knowing that he did all he could to protect you; and nobody would ever be able to come between you both.

"Welcome back, beautiful"

[solxamber]

If you would be oh so kind and say what Leona’s dream was. I am nowhere near getting to book 7 but I know what happens leading up to it (I also procrastinate playing the game but love reading fanfics so it’s a ended sword) and I just want to know what everyone is freaking out about. I want to freak out too!

hi! of course, (spoilers under the cut for anyone who doesn't wanna know what happens)

Detailed Leona's dream below the cut! I'm gonna go chapter by chapter so you get the full story!

so after ruggie's dream, they all end up in sunset city. right now the gang is ruggie, jack, azul, sebek, silver, idia, ortho, yuu and grim.

but unlike other's happy dreams, everyone here seems to be on edge and like everything is desolate and dilapidated. and when ruggie tries to ask someone what's wrong, they freak out saying that there's no food here and shoo him. it looks like people are biased against hyenas.

they go to the royal palace and the guard are rude and sebek and jack get annoyed and there's a fight.

the guards call for backup, ortho calls idia for emergency support and idia ends up being able to open the palace door. and they go in. ruggie scolds sebek and jack for picking a fight.

and then we hear kifaji!! he's lecturing leona and we find out that leona's father is dead from illness and falena and cheka are also dead due to an accident.

Leona argues back that he kept his promises and he cleaned up the slums and invested in infrastructure. but kifaji argues that the development was too fast, animals have been chased away, nature is polluted and Leona ignored the wishes of the people so now there's no food or water.

Leona says that his plan was perfect, people suck and they ruined it, it's not his fault. Kifaji tells him that Leona is extremely intelligent but waiting for someone to appear won't work, and they have to do something immediately. Kifaji notes that the workers in the palace couldn't keep up with Leona so they left and now Leona hired people who are causing problems (They're referring to hyenas and kifaji seems to dislike them)

Leona says that he gave work to people who needed it and it's Kifaji's job to keep them in line.

Outiside, Fake! Ruggie (or dream Ruggie) appears, and he's causing a riot. he's loudly proclaiming that Falena was the better king. And everyone starts yelling at Leona to give them back their nature, food and country. Fake Ruggie says they dont need a king. Leona tells them to fuck off if they're not happy.

Kifaji laments that Leona has been like this since he was a child and he focuses on efficiency and not on people and Leona tells him to keep everyone in line and he's gonna continue doing whatever he wants.

Real Ruggie takes the gang to regroup and discuss in a restaurant (from the cloud calling event!) and ruggie is all like "idia you're loaded and I've always wanted to eat here" except there's no food or water even in the restaurant, but they're allowed to sit.

Ortho hypothesizes that Leona might already know he's in a dream and idia says that no one will be 100% sure they're in a dream (exception being silver) and this isn't fully a dream, it's a world created by malleus.

Silver wonders why Leona’s dream is so depressing. cause malleus gave everyone happy dreams but Leona lost his family and everyone seems to hate him.

Idia hypothesizes that dreams are like a sandbox game. Malleus' powerful magic + Leona’s powerful imagination has limitless possibilities and Leona subconsciously chose what he believes to be a realistic simulation. Ruggie adds that Leona seems to be doing what he shouldn't like he knows what he should he doing for the country and he's actively choosing not to.

Sebek then gets mad that Leona's imagination went so far as to kill his family to make him the king but he just said screw the responsibility.

Idia points out that there is something very unusual about this dream. Because usually they have to stay close to the dreamer themselves. Or else the entire gang could be in danger. But Leona's dream actually has the entire sunset savannah which is kind of very unusual.

Ortho then points out that basically, Leona has constructed an entire country in his dream. And idia says that at first, it probably was fun, but like at some point he had to manage the entire country on its own here. he had to allocate resources and had to manage infrastructure. And at one point he probably just gave up after becoming overwhelmed.

Ruggie, Azul and Jack draw parallels with book 2. Leona had realized that no matter how hard he tries right now, he will fail so he just entirely gives up.

Silver is like "this dream is extremely complex.So it's gonna be really hard to wake Leona up".

Azul comes up with the plan that they will try to wrestle the control away from Leona so they can wake him up so Jack and ruggie decide that the king must be overthrown now.

Sebek says that previously if the king had to be overthrown a new king has to be set up so Ortho creates a fake Cheka. But STYX doesn't have enough time to fully flesh him out so he's basically just a puppet.

After convincing Ruggie, Ruggie is gonna use his unique magic to puppet cheka. ( There are some drawbacks of course, like Ruggie's magic will only work for a few seconds before he has to recast it. And during those few seconds where he has to recast it, cheka goes back to being a puppet)

They go back to the Royal palace and the Royal guards and the mob outside have gotten into physical altercations. Silver and sebek want to go and help them. But they're not able to handle the entire fight on their own. So what Azul does is he sends a ruggie and cheka directly to the throne room. So Jack becomes a wolf and cheka and ruggie ride on him and yuu and grim are also going in.

And then inside the throne room. Leona and Kifaji are talking and Leona asks kifaji to bring him food and kifaji is like there is no food. And then Leona threatens kifaji.

Then, fake Cheka is put into the room and kifaji's like Cheka sounds weird and ruggie is like "shut up". Cheka proclaims that he is the actual king and tells Leona to give the throne back. But Leona sees right through it and he's like "I'll never give the throne to some a fake" And then he attacks it and the hologram of cheka disappears.

Leona attacks Ruggie, Yuu and Grim and Kifaji, despite being a part of Leona's darkness helps the gang and attacks Leona with fire and says that he has been waiting for Leona to finally wake up.

Hyena guards come to help Leona, and kifaji is on the dream gang's side and kifaji is very strong and Leona disappears.

Kifaji leaves to calm the mob down and Ortho is confused about who kifaji is and how he knows this is a dream. Jack guesses that Leona made him so accurate to irl kifaji to the point where he stands against even him.

On Leona's side, the guards are telling him that they're his only friends and they drag him further into the darkness.

The entire gang reunites and the follow Leona into the dark. It goes to Book 2: Spelldrive and here, they succeed in beating Malleus. (As in Savanaclaw is gonna win here)

But Jack is upset at the underhanded method they used and Ruggie agrees that Leona would probably not be happy with that victory even if they had gotten it.

They then reenact Book 2 and the same dialogue from then ends up kinda waking Leona up and he's surprised to see double ruggie. Fake Ruggie calls Leona their king and Jack gets angry and declares "He's not your king, he's our housewarden" and then battle.

Jack tells Leona to remember who he is and Leona finally fully wakes up. Leona tells them to be gentle while waking him up and ruggie is like "yup that's our Leona alright"

The darkness attacks and drags ruggie in, Leona tries to drag him back but then Leona says he's gonna give up. They're all shocked but what Leona means is that he's giving up on saving himself. He throws ruggie to jack and takes his place and gets dragged into the darkness.

When Leona comes to in the darkness he calls for ruggie and Jack but ends up facing his overblot self. OB!Leona says that he'd be 1000x the king falena can be. Real Leona says that these words mean nothing and OB!Leona says that Real Leona has to stay here forever. Real Leona says he's leaving this shit hole behind.

Real Leona overblots on purpose and fights the Lion version of his overblot. And wins.

Leona says that he the overblot part of him will always be with him inside and it'll keep crying for recognition. And he declares that one day, he'll get his own throne and own pride, he will not give up.

After that, Leona wakes up and meets with Kifaji and the classic Lion King scene happens where Kifaji declares that everything that the light touches is rules by Leona. They talk a little and Kifaji asks if Leona noticed this is a dream and Leona says he did. Kifaji calls him his king and Leona is like "I'm not your king" and that if he ever becomes king, kifaji is getting fired.

Leona uses his UM and Kifaji is happy. He dissappear after telling Leona to go back where he belongs.

The dream starts breaking down and the entire gang reunites. Azul is shocked that Leona sacrificed himself for someone. Ruggie says he was scared that he'd be abandoned like in Book 2 again.

Leona says they're even now but ruggie says "nuh uh, you still owe me for Book 2" but thanks Leona anyways. Jack cries while denying he's crying. Jack says he likes the real versions of themselves better.

Then there's a savanclaw group hug!

They then fill in what happened and Leona is like "of course that lizard caused this, I always knew he'd snap like that"

And Ortho tells him to join the dream gang and Leona is like "nah, I'm gonna sleep, wake me up when it's time to beat malleus' ass" and idia is like "absolutely not we worked so hard to wake you up, you have to work now"

Leona is like Azul is a housewarden too, they don't need him but Azul is exhausted from the dream hopping and fighting all those guards. Ruggie and Jack have used a lot of magic up too so Leona is like "Ugh okay" and joins the gang.

Ruggie and Jack go back to their own dreams for now.

They then make a fake Leona, set him up to rule this country and (idia and Ortho are gossiping that maybe this fake Leona could make the country actually prosper lmao) they go to the next dream!

that's all! this was way longer than I remembered it being but I hope you understand my rambling/retelling

[dcggersedge]

the long quiet

swordmaster mastery drabble (wc 896)

You are on a path in the…

Oh. Well, this isn’t right. It seems you’re not on a path at all. How strange. Nearly every time we’ve done this before, it always starts the same. This is the first time it’s ever been different, I think.

(Explore) “Why are you surprised? This was what we decided on the old man’s deathbed, isn’t it?”

No, not we. You decided. You decided that you wanted to try to deviate, that you hated the script soooo much that you just couldn’t stand to follow it any longer, and that you’d go running off at first opportunity. I told you that it doesn’t matter if you run. There are certain things that are consistent and that will happen, and that you were just delaying the inevitable.

Now, if you’ll excuse me. You are on a path in the

Why do you say that? It’s not really accurate, is it? We’ve never even seen the woods that the script talks about, have we?

“Firene.”

You went to Firene. I’m stuck in Brodia.

(Explore) “You probably wouldn’t have liked it.”

Well, we’ll never know, will we?

I liked it better when there was one of you. You were so much easier then. Quieter, too.

But seriously, why is it a path? Wouldn’t it be more accurate to say something like “you are on a street in Brodia”?

Because…because that’s just now how the script goes!

(Explore) “Don’t you write it?”

Of course I don’t write it, I’m just the narration. If I wrote it, we would have gotten to the point a lot faster without all this back and forth. Now, you are on a path-

Road.

(Explore) “Did you say we weren’t on either of those?”

The path or road doesn’t matter, because it’s beneath your feet whether you see it or not! But fine! Since the two of you are so nitpicky, you’re in a room! It’s a room you’ve seen a hundred times before, only this time it is not quite as big as it used to feel. It’s dark, the windows are boarded up, and there is nothing there except the door and a table.

You left out the old man’s shitty chair.

He’s not around to be important anymore.

Maybe not to you, but I still see him. Sitting in his chair, talking in the other room, stopping around with those big boots. He’s still here, even if he’s not.

(Explore) “This is why you can’t leave.”

And ignoring it doesn’t mean you did.

Upon the table sits the pristine blade you know so well. You’ve taken it up time and time before. You know that you cannot walk through the door without it, because it is every bit a part of you as your hand itself. 

[Try to leave without it]

…okay. I see what we’re doing here. Very funny. You try to leave, but you find the door is stuck. No matter how much you yank or pull, the door won’t open, because you cannot leave without your blade. 

[Kick the door]

It doesn’t move.

[Kick it again]

Maybe he really is gone. We’d never get away with making this much noise while he was home.

[Kick it one more time]

It doesn’t move because it won’t move. Do you think I’m telling you all of this for fun? The script exists for a reason and you’ve been following it since you came here. You can’t just change because you decide you want to! You aren’t just different now because you decide you are! You are on a path. You take the blade. And you slay the-

The blade is gone.

What do you mean the blade is- Oh. Okay. You turn around and the blade is, in fact, gone. Instead of the familiar knife, a sword sits in its place. There’s no mention of a sword in the script, but it is a sort of blade…we can still work with this.

[Take the sword]

You take up the sword. It is old and beaten, with small dents and nicks along the blade from years of use. It doesn’t look like it’s in a shape to kill anyone any more.

Not with that attitude.

(Explore) “Is the door still locked?”

Of course the door’s still locked. The door is for the you that follows the script, not a you who conjures up new weapons out of thin air and tries to fight against the path. You’ve done this time and time before. Just because you’ve made a small change doesn’t mean you’re off it. Just turn the sword back into a knife.

…if we can’t get off it, can we really make a new one?

What? Of course not.

(Explore) “Would you be mad at me?”

I’m already stuck with here with him. Doesn’t mean we should both be.

[Raise the sword and aim it at yourself]

…Wait, hang on. Maybe I’ve been a bit rash. Maybe we can talk about the door again? I haven’t even told you who you’re supposed to slay yet this time.

[Cut down the path]

Oh, fine. The old rusty sword plunges into its target. Everything goes dark, and then you die.

[snippychicke]

It's Just Business Three

YOU THOUGHT I FORGOT? NEVER!

Look at that face! Look!

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen so far

Pairing: Sanji/Reader

Warnings: No real warnings, but god, I hope you like pining

Summary: You felt like you had known Sanji forever, considering your family had been the main merchants Zeff used to supply the Baratie. You had a small crush on him, but knew it was hopeless considering you were the one woman he didn't seem to pine over. 

It was fine. Or so you thought until you ended up on the Going Merry as a bookkeeper and supply manager. Being around him 24/7 was a lot more difficult than just a few days a week.  

(Please note 》°《 denotes a scene in the past while -*- will be a regular scene break. Because yeah, I like my non-linear story telling.)

Masterpost | Ao3

You weren’t unfamiliar with fighting. After all, merchant ships attracted pirates like honey attracted flies. 

But damn, the fishman pirates were really of a different breed. You were on the defensive more than anything, blocking blows and only able to land a few potshots in retaliation. You could feel bruises already blooming from where you got hit, the unsettling feeling of blood trickling from various wounds. 

But you didn’t give up. How could you when the others kept bravely fighting? Zoro’s blades danced in the air with unnatural graces against the other pirates, the man barely waivering despite the fact he still had his massive injuries from Mihawk. And Sanji was far more skilled than yourself considering he trained regularly with Zeff, his long legs proving to be far stronger than they looked.  

Except as much as they fought against Arlong's pirates, the two men were bickering heatedly amongst themselves too - which was not helping anyone except the enemy. 

“Will you two stop fighting!” You snarled as you ended up between the green-hair swordsman and the blond chef--both literally and figuratively. “Beat these assholes and then have at it for all I care, but god damn if we lose I am going to murder you both.”  

Zoro shot you a dark look, as if to silently scoff at the fact you could even hope to beat him - you couldn’t, but you would try your best, god damn it - before he rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the fishmen that were regrouping. 

Sanji however, frowned as he looked you over and stepped closer to wipe blood from your lip. “I told you that you should have stayed back on the ship, or even the village.” 

You glared at him. “The only orders I take are the ones I get paid for,” You shot back. “Just ‘cause you’re stronger than me doesn’t make you my boss.” 

His frown deepened. "That's not what I meant. I just mean you'd be safer back on the Going Merry."

"We all would, but that's not why we came, is it?" You hated the fact he had been right about Nami, but you hated Arlong and his crew more for what they did to the young woman. You had gripped Sanji’s hand tightly when you heard Nami softly ask Luffy for help, full of rage on her behalf for what the bastards had done. He had squeezed back as he took a drag of his cigarette, as if silently promising that you would get revenge on her behalf. 

"I thought you said something about fighting them, not each other," Zoro yelled out, three swords holding back the pirates while you and Sanji argued.  

"Mind your damn own business!" You and Sanji snarled at the green haired swordsman at the same time. 

You were fairly certain you heard Zoro curse you both, swearing something about waiters and bossy women. You ignored his comment as  Sanji darted for one of the gray-skinned fishmen, and you followed suit. 

-*-

It had been a knife in your heart when Sanji greeted Nami so warmly, sounding so elated to see the red-head. 

Yet the fact she passed him and went for Zoro and Usopp made you cackle heartedly despite yourself, going as far as leaning on the dejected man as you tried to calm your laughter. (The mix of the battle high and relief it was over may have made you a bit unusually giggly.)

“It’s not that funny,” He grumbled, though at the same time his arm wrapped around your waist to help steady you. 

“I’m sorry,” You wheezed, pressing your head against his shoulder. “You just… and she didn’t even pause. My poor boy, I don’t think she’s that into you.” 

Sanji was quiet as you calmed yourself, though his arm never left your waist, or even loosened the smallest bit. “Sometimes a woman requires a bit of wooing,” He defended once your laughter died away, making you snort. “Nami’s been through a rough time, so of course she’d run to her friends.” 

You tried to keep the smile on your face despite any trace of humor draining from your heart. He was in deep this time, wasn’t he? 

It was probably a good thing you’d be parting ways, so you didn’t have to watch him try to woo her, as he said. Even if it meant you wouldn’t see him for who knew how long. Or the fact the idiot could die out on the open sea and you would never see him again. Never see the humor in his bright blue eyes, lips twitching in a smile. Never be able to bicker good-naturedly with him, arguing just for the sake of arguing. Or just feel at home with his casual touch--he was one of the very few who you felt safe enough to indulge in that need for physical touch.

Sanji spoke your name softly, drawing you from your thoughts. “You okay?” He asked as you looked up and was able to see worry pinching his eyebrows together. 

You offered a weak smile. “Yeah, just tired all of a sudden. Adrenaline must be wearing off.” 

The concerned expression didn’t leave despite the soft smile on his lips. His thumb rubbed along the curve of your wait reassuringly as he pulled you closer. "Once Luffy's finished, we'll head back and I'll make a big meal, okay? Just hang in there until then. 

Oh, it wasn't the immediate future you were worried about. But you nodded your head nevertheless, and tried to enjoy what short time you had left with your friend before you parted ways. 

~*~

Despite your obvious exhaustion, you assisted with preparing the celebratory meal that night, for which Sanji was thankful. You weren’t exactly one of the line cooks of the Baratie, but you knew enough that he didn’t have to worry once he explained his initial idea of a large stir-fry. 

He was looking forward to more of this; the adventure, fulfilling his dream of finding the All Blue, Zeff’s dream. But also sharing it all with you. Seeing you more than just a few times a week, stealing short moments between both your duties and his.  

The two of you had always been close and had shared a few small (and some not so small) adventures through the years. He couldn’t lie to himself, his feelings for you were far from platonic, but the problem was you thought you knew him too well and never believed he was being serious as he tried to flirt. No matter how close he held you, or how many times he pressed kisses to you head and hand while calling you sweetheart, you thought he was just kidding. That it was all platonic. 

He wasn’t sure how you were going to react when --if-- you ever realized the truth.

》°《

Zeff frowned as he looked down at you and Sanji, both of you out of breath and covered in sweat as you sat back to back. "You two shrimps are pitiful, really."

You grumbled as you leaned against Sanji, trying to catch your breath. He had been beating your ass fairly, though at least you had given him a work out. 

"We've been doing this all afternoon," Sanji shot back, still full of spit and vinegar in his small body despite everything. "Let her have a break, and I'll fight you instead." 

You moved to look at him, confused. He… was defending you? After the fact you were in this position because you had been fighting in the pantry? 

Zeff laughed, his arms crossed in front of his chest that was probably bigger than both you and Sanji combined. "You think you can take me, little eggplant?"

Even with one just a thin pegleg, you knew to challenge Zeff was a death wish. Your parents had told you stories of Red Leg Zeff of the Cook Pirates, likely in an attempt to make you behave when aboard the Baratie.  

Yet despite knowing how harsh Zeff truly could be, Sanji only glared harder. "I'd rather take you than force her to do any more training."

Zeff smirked, though his expression softened.  "You little shit. How about you go scrounge up some lunch for you both and take a rest. And maybe next time you won't be so prone to starting fights." 

The captain-chef turned and left you and Sanji alone on the deck. You groaned as you tried to flop down on the slatted wood, except Sanji wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kept you sitting up. How he still had any energy or strength was beyond you. You felt boneless. Or maybe more like all your bones had been shattered.

"You heard the old bastard," Sanji said as he pulled you up as if you were just an overly large flour bag. "Let's go get you some food."

"God, how do you have energy?" You whined as he helped you back inside. 

"I train at least twice a day, more if I piss the geezer off,” was his grumbled answer. 

What little energy you could spare was used to have a flash of empathy for him; you couldn't imagine having to do this twice a day. "So, you’re Mr. Fancypants in the kitchen and on the battlefield." 

He shot you a smile that looked a lot like Zeff’s when he was somewhat proud of something. "Heh, guess you could say that." 

[blorbologist]

Confession time:

In the campaign, I loathe Mythcarver.

Vox Machina are given the Vestige as a sidenote - 'here are the locations of a ton of cool ancient weapons, and also this sword I can just give you guys'. While every other Vestige involves a quest for it, or at least some planning, often with some degree of expectation of who will get it (Fenthras, the Titanstone Knuckles, Whisper, the Plate of the Dawnmartyr, the Spire of Conflux - they all really fit one party member well. Cabal's Ruin is more up in the air until we find out who has it, and the Ward has already been given to Vax by this point). Many of them are tied to character moments for the party members in question - 'take me instead you raven bitch', the killbox, 'my heart is someone else's', 'i forgive you, but I cannot let you leave'.

Scanlan doesn't get a noble quest with his friends to power him up. Scanlan does's even do anything of particular note in Kamaljiori's canon trial. He's just... given this Vestige as loot, and because it's made with bards in mind and he's the bard so he should get it.

Except Mythcarver doesn't suit *Scanlan's* style of bard, at all, and I can count the number of times he uses it on one hand, one of which required heavy prompting by Matt because Sam was so used to ignoring the thing. It's a glorified stat stick that buffs some abilities but never sees use because Scanlan is so heavily focused on support spells. It can't match the damage output or utility of his spells, so it just sits on his belt looking pretty. He gets one cool moment with it, against a minor boss, and that's it.

(Notably, he pulls it out and tries poking for a Blinked enemy during a critical fight which I'm not naming due to spoilers, and he just... still doesn't get to do anything with it. That one round could have prevented a death - sinking a turn into trying to use that sword actively hurt the party. It sucks.)

Credit where credit is due: I really appreciate the vision Matt had for the weapon and the intent behind it! On the other hand, it just... further fed into Scanlan feeling like he was an afterthought to the party. They didn't go on a quest for him. They didn't even think of getting him a Vestige - he's just handed one, in a fairly forgettable sidebar, and then hardly ever uses it again. It sucks. I hate that stupid sword.

So when I tell you I was grinning so, so massively during episide 6 of season 2 -

Mythcarver isn't given to Scanlan by default - it's given to him, specifically, by a friend. Kamaljiori is the first person to see through his exterior, his many masks, who bonds with him over love and longing and sincerity. It's not an offhand 'oh while you're here take this' it's for him. He gets a cool moment with it!! It reveals the locations of the other Vestiges!

Here, now, Mythcarver represents what Scanlan wants to be: a hero, a valued friend, someone who matters and has an impact on the world. Someone loved.

(And also noteworthy that this happened not long after Pike was dismissive of him, too. Whistles.)

And then Umbrasyl swoops in to take it, singling Scanlan out for what he carries - and Kami fights for him. Kamaljiori protects him, over and over and over, not for Mythcarver but because it’s Scanlan, it's his friend. He's going toe to toe with an ancient black dragon for Scanlan. And dies for it.

Not only does Umbrasyl kill Kamaljiori but he steals this Vestige. This gift for Scanlan alone, this first fucking testament to having mattered to someone, to being valued and cared for. Mythcarver isn't just a reward, it actively pushes the plot and Scanlan's character development forward, gives Scanlan what he's been quietly looking for in the background, and then viciously takes it away.

(This also gives Scanlan a bigger motivation to be part of that one stupid plan with Vax that's in the trailer: Umbrasyl killed his friend and stole something representing everything Scanlan wants. And he wants it badly and he wants it back, you flying fuck.)

I can't wait to see what's in store. This was, I think, my favorite change to TLOVM so far after 'darling take off the mask' getting a bigger Moment. I can't believe they gave weight and meaning to that stupid sword and I'm here for it.

[bestworstcase]

Fingers crossed on the 'Yang's dad reconsiders about her' thing, mainly 'cuz it seems like an effortless failure mode for their particular dynamic (and one she's super likely to keep internalizing) would be 'huh, guess you're finally using the ol' noggin for more than headbutts, proud of ya sport'. And that's IF both parties aren't too swept up (or unalived in Taiyang's case) by Events for such fine-tuned cognitive script-flipping. Plus, 'we all pedestalized Ruby into a breakdown' does strike me as a higher-priority family crisis if there is any breathing room.

i’m not sure how much i buy the reading that yang internalizes what tai tells her about herself, in all honesty, ’cause like

everything tai says is a generalization from her vytal tournament fights, which:

team rwby won on the strength of their superior tactics and teamwork

yang fired burn because those two were being assholes after her teammate got (possibly, as far as yang knew) seriously injured, then used the power her semblance gave her to take control of the battlefield and turn her opponents’ advantages against them; she wins by applying her strength very tactically.

yang and mercury are very evenly matched, the whole fight is a nail-biter, and yang uses burn to tank mercury’s big finisher, then wins because he assumes he’s won before the match is called. (<- which is merc’s plan, but tai didn’t know that when he formed these impressions.)

tai’s takeaway is:

burn is “basically a temper tantrum”

yang relies on it because she’s “predictable, and stubborn, and maybe a little bone-headed”

yang uses her semblance to make herself strong so she can brute force her way through problems.

except that doesn’t line up with what yang does in either of the fights where she uses her semblance! in the 2v2, she’s angry and she uses that anger to juice her semblance, but she’s not lashing out or blowing things up at random, she’s disrupting the terrain so her roller-blading opponent can’t maneuver; in the 1v1, her use of burn is defensive—she activates it to strengthen herself enough to outlast a volley she couldn’t dodge or otherwise avoid, and she stays focused.

yang, of course, knows this. she’s the one who was in her head when she made the decision to fire her semblance in those fights. she pushes back on the idea that burn is any different from any other semblance, but she’s also able to filter out tai’s specific bias against her semblance to extract some actually good advice, specifically “make sure you’re not getting yourself stuck in a rut, think outside the box.”

which is what we see her doing with burn after v4; she uses her semblance more, in more varied ways. she completely ignores the advice tai gave her to stop “relying” on her semblance because she knows she hasn’t ever been someone who thinks raw strength is the only thing that matters in a fight.

and then when adam taunts her, he doesn’t make jabs about her strength—he says “do you think you’re faster than you were at beacon?”—because he knows, and yang knows, that the reason yang lost her arm is she underestimated how fast he could strike. strength had fuck all to do with it; he hit her before she could reach him.

the thing about that is… sword. fists. adam will always be able to hit yang before yang gets close enough to hit him back, not because he’s a better fighter or faster or stronger but simply because his weapon gives him way more reach. yang is faster than she was at beacon, but is she fast enough to eliminate his mechanical advantage?

adam doesn’t think so. yang doesn’t either. so she doesn’t try—she stands her ground and lets adam come at HER, because she’s been feeling out his semblance the whole fight and she’s confident she can catch his blade. this is why she tells him she’s “smarter;” adam expects a repeat of their last confrontation whereas yang uses what she knows about him to trick him into overextending.

his advantage is superior range, which yang isn’t fast enough to overcome. (sword. fists.) her advantage is strength. being smart, in this case, means using her strength instead of letting adam sting her into a contest of speed she knows she can’t win.

yang is a very agile, precise fighter who’s smart enough to know when to plant her feet and use her strength. she took a risk that she could catch that sword, but 1. that was really her best option, and 2. she spent the whole fight prior testing his limits and her own to prepare herself as much as possible. and in reverse, there have been times—like at haven—where yang decided speed was the most important thing and took the risk of literally disarming herself to get down to the vault as fast as possible.

did she really internalize that she’s a dum-dum who tries to hulk smash her way through every problem, or did she go “well i’m not going to stop using my semblance because that’s bullshit, but maybe i can get more out of it than i have been,” cue experimenting with things like different intensities.

i do think—if there’s a moment of reevaluation from tai—it’ll probably incited by blake or yang or ruby? because, returning to the salem comparison: salem understands who cinder is but doesn’t know what cinder really wants, so when cinder defies her she is able to immediately grasp why. whereas tai generally knows what yang wants (protect her sister, find her mother) but doesn’t understand who she is, so when he tries to explain why she does something he’s likely to be wrong every time. “you’ve fought your whole life unwaveringly for what you want, and here i am holding you back” vs “your semblance is a temper tantrum and you’re a little boneheaded”—salem gets cinder whereas tai probably needs to be told he doesn’t get yang.