#how did this chapter get so long

[verfound]

FIC: A Thousand Words: Ch 2: Worth (Six Years Ago) (MLB; Lukanette, Julerose)

Notes: Funny story. I was kinda tied up with the idea of “I must count out the 1,000 words exactly”, until the lovely LBSCers went “um wait”. And yet somehow, despite not actively trying to put a shit ton of filler in this chap, it still exploded on me? (Wordy Bitches Gonna Word? 😂🖤)

Ch 1

A Thousand Words

Part Two: Worth (Six Years Ago)

“Oh my gosh, Juleka, it’s a carnival!”

Juleka wasn’t quite sure what happened next: the following few seconds were all a bit of a blur, but she was learning most things with her new friend went that way. One minute she was looking down at her phone, texting her stupid brother that she was fine and with a friend and you don’t have to walk me home anymore loser, and the next she was fumbling to catch said phone as Rose grabbed her wrist and yanked her along behind her, giggling excitedly as she hauled her towards the park across the street from the school.

Her eyes widened in surprise when she actually saw the park.

“…whoa,” she said softly, her head tilting back to take in the Ferris wheel rising above the fence. Sure enough, there actually was a carnival set up in the park.

[umblrspectrum]

do you ever like wanna make something cool but you dont know how so you just sit around like a moron for 5 hours straight pretending you know how

me neither

on a more serious note i know ad astra as a whole isnt over but i still want to thank daybreaker for their fics. what friends are for was the very first md fic i ever stumbled upon when trying out ao3 for the first time, and prior to joining the server i was checking it near daily for uploads. god knows if i'd be as deep in ao3 as i am now if it werent for this story and convenient timing. Thanks for the story.

[corntired]

Fanfiction is so goated actually

No monetary incentive, just writing in one's free time. Some incentive for like kudos and comments, because who doesn't want to hear that someone else enjoyed what they wrote. Just writing a story that is good and/or enjoyable, no real-life pressure to keep it going because god forbid you and other people are depending on it financially.

Writing a story because you want to write a good story, so you can write what they want the way you want, at a pace that is realistic for you, with exactly the plot pacing you want there to be.

[lorillee]

in honor of kakashis birthday i thought i might as well finally release my half finished mini concept of "inverse lost tower where baby kakashi comes to hang out with shippuden era team 7. Badly" because obviously baby kakashi seeing his older self have relationships and happiness that baby kks doesnt think he can or deserves to have pisses him off on such a fundamental level hes so filled with rage he barely knows what to do with himself. not to mention that adult kakashis general outward lackadaisical demeanor also makes him angry because how can they have gone through all the same things and yet he still doesnt take anything seriously etc etc u already know all this. regardless the issue more than anything else was that im not much of a writer so i could never get the words to feel right so it'll probably stay unfinished forever, but take these anyways

[frobby]

Nothing is stronger than the bond between a girl and a piece of media they brushed off 10 years ago that they now realized is the greatest thing ever made

[akkivee]

the pivotal points in bat’s past 🤔

kuukou

age ????- his best friend moved away

age 14: attained a higher level of asceticism than his father, met hitoya who helped clear an assault charge on some good will that went awry

age 15: left home to flex his talent, got humbled quick lol but met ichiro and vowed to grow stronger

jyushi:

age ???? (presumably 6)- received amanda from his grandmother

age 13- started middle school where he ‘befriends’ iyogi

age 14- has been a victim of bullying for a year and the bullying escalated to the point his grandmother was killed. met hitoya who made sure iyogi ain’t seeing the light ever again and a little later helped jyushi find the will to keep living

hitoya

age 14- loses his brother

age 23- upon receiving a tip, he decided to change majors from being a doctor to a lawyer in order to jail the guy that bullied his brother. broke up with jakurai after a disagreement

age 31- meets kuukou and jyushi for the first time and we see the fruits of his lawyer efforts

[bunnieswithknives]

sorry if idk this but what do you think about Wordgirl now in 2024 do you still like it do you still want to make art or talk about it or are you just done with all of it forever and plus i seen that you haven't made art of it since 2022 so you just done with all of it oh yeah and what about The Magnus Archives + Wordgirl ao3 fic too like is that just going to be and i know that your working on 2 au's now just wanting to know that's all

My interests tend to come in intense bursts and then fade. Unless something like, big happens like it gets a reboot its unlikely I'll be coming back to it anytime soon. As for the fic I don't have any current plans to finish it unfortunately.

[hylianane]

A big part of the Haikyuu rewatch is watching the characters interact and worrying that I fandomized their relationships too much in my head, particularly with the Karasuno first years because Hinata and Kags keep Yamaguchi and Tsukishima at arm’s length for so long. But then I remember. Oh wait the squad is literally Hinata’s phone background by the end of the story. You don’t put a picture of just some dudes in your after school club as your phone background.

[sharknark]

⬇️rant about a really good hengren (reverse renheng) fic i read. link at the bottom give it a whirl

i've never read a fic so well-catered to my tastes before in my life and the best part is that i was so caught off guard by how good it was cuz the tags and summary had me like "right this is some omegaverse-esque, rawr XD mating shit"

but from the very first paragraph i realized it wasn't just ao3-typical possessive mating shit it was (dare i say) IN CHARACTER possessive mating shit. underappreciated dan feng lore is the two hearts shit, duty expects him to smother his own empathy and perform cruelty obediently (and that being in his dragon form literally numbs his empathy towards mortals) but then it's flipped around and he's criticized for being too heartless

there aren't a great many english fics that take advantage of the 'numbed empathy' thing, so this fic using that to explore the toxic codependency that drove dan feng to making yingxing immortal in the first place is so!

dan feng's dragon heart prioritizing it's own indulgence and power, his human heart screaming against it for empathy and restraint, but both hearts united in this possessive adoration of yingxing... dan feng is possessive to the point of harming his partner, forcing them to take his affection, inherently contradictive to the protective impulse to see the other unhurt.

dan feng makes yingxing immortal in a really sketchy operation, despite knowing that yingxing is literally defined by his pride in being a short-life. he wants yingxing to be with him so badly that he does the one thing that would hurt yingxing the most, too blinded by possession, this sickly overbearing affection, to empathetically respect yingxing's death.

yingxing lived cramming every second he could into his craft and his goals precisely because he has so much less time than all the immortal species around him, but when he's forced into immortality, his hands are scarred and ruined past the point of ever crafting again. he suddenly has so much time, all this time he would've cherished as a mortal, but is totally useless to him now that his purpose for living and passion is gone.

so there being a scene in this fic where dan feng is moping "yingxing doesn't wanna fuck because he's glued to his workshop", being followed up with a scene of dan heng fucking blade while kissing his scarred hand and crying that he's "so sorry", yeah no shit asshole, his dragon heart got what it wanted, blade has all the time in the world to fuck and nothing competing for his now limitless attention and no one's happy about it.

as arrogant about being a short-life as yingxing was, it really is compensation for the discrimination he faced for it. other immortals looked down on him, so having dan feng, THE top dog, be so deeply enamored with him stirred his own toxic codependent urges. he was so desperate to have dan feng's eternal regard that he's willing to die for him (as in the sedition), his death being the force cementing his place in dan feng's heart forever.

so the fic having yingxing ruminate on this, that he had hoped for dan feng to love him even centuries after he inevitably died, only for the fic to end with:

yeah yingxing... you left an impression... he made you immortal.... everyone's upset by this

(that's what makes dan heng forgetting blade was ever yingxing to begin with all the more painful because, you went and turned him immortal and when it backfired horrifically you went on and fucking forgot, bitch i'd be pissed to the point of centuries long bloody pursuit of vengeance too.)

here's the fic go read it and leave kudos and a comment, technically porn but i got so invested in the character study that part barely registered. also yeah if you hadn't realized already super dead-dove:

blah blah "renheng is toxic" sorry that's why i like it

[possamble]

Do you have any plan to make some kind of bonus chapter or oneshot about marcille's perspective in little creature? It's not like I'm asking you for it ofc!! it's just that i think it'll be interesting to read, and especially since you had those tags about marcille after her fight/outburst with falin and how you couldn't add it to the fic because the fic is from falin's perspective

Probably not about anything that happens during a little creature, but maybe something before or after? Sometimes I do like to do "the other character thinking back to events while doing stuff in a sequel" oneshot type thing, but we'll see how it shakes out!

[glucosegaurdian]

I’ll give you my heart if only you’ll eat.

I am not well about the imagery in the newest chapter. I guarantee I’ll be back with more art in a day or so. @cemeteryguy :))

[words-with-wren]

AHHHHHHH! I'm not sure how to put my feelings into words, but Some Sunny Day is driving me INSANE. I don't mean to offend you, as I know that you have a life and have stuff going on, but I check Ao3 CONSTANTLY to see when the next rendition is going to be. I can't describe my joy when I see that it has been updated. As a whole, THANK YOU for this masterpeice.

AAAAHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I love hearing from people who enjoy what I create ❤️❤️❤️ I'm not at all offended--and I'm going to try get the next chapter up soon! Had a crazy week at work and also a paper I was finishing up so haven't had time or energy to write but. Hopefully today ^-^

Again, thank you for this ask! Seeing people excited about my writing is always wild and I love hearing from you ❤️

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Caught in the Clutches of Lust

No im not sorry for any of this. cope and seethe

Btw I used a line from @painsandconfusion and @wormwriting's degradation starter list that I saved THREE YEARS AGO for this very moment. I am always playing the long game (⊙ˍ⊙)

←Previous - Masterlist

Ingredients: VERY creepy/intimate whumper, implied threat of noncon, a lot of noncon touching (unsexy but right on the edge), implied noncon kiss, unsexy nudity

Shiori?

No, it couldn’t be, she was a world away, she was human, he’d left her waiting by the fountain after the party and she’d moved on and forgotten about him, no reason to follow him here, into the depths of hell, looking exactly like she had the night of the party, jarringly out of place in her pretty dress, smiling at him like he wasn’t a blood-covered, unrecognizable version of himself.

And then he blinked, and all of a sudden it wasn’t Shiori at all, but Lythia, wearing the same yellow bandana that she always did while she was working in the palace gardens, the little black braids of her hair just as beautiful as he remembered. There was no pity in her dark eyes, like there had been the last time he saw her, looking up at him from the crowd while he was chained to that pillar, promising he’d be rescued after it was already too late. Actually seeing her hurt, and Erebus looked away for a moment, just a moment…

When he saw the woman in front of him now, his jaw dropped, eyes widening, his tense, burning hands finally relaxing.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Her voice was just as he remembered, and she was smiling at him so kindly, her eyes soft, her gloved hand outstretched, she was here to save him, she’d found a way to bring him back, he was too tired and scared and stressed to do anything else besides surrender control to her once again, to take her small hand and follow her blindly towards the fate she’d chosen for him. She was squeezing his still-healing hand tightly in hers, but she could do whatever she wanted with him just as long as she got him out of this place.

“Well, that was easy.”

The voice wasn’t Shiori’s, or Lythia’s, and it certainly wasn’t Neteri’s.

Erebus jumped back, finally seeing the person next to him clearly for the first time. She-they?-smirked at him, bright purple eyes sparkling. Their white hair was long and wavy, partially braided back with impeccable precision. Gold jewelry and a low-cut black dress accentuated their natural beauty, seeming very out of place in this hellish world. Most striking of all, though, was their bright red skin, a shade that was very familiar to Erebus.

This was a lust demon, and she’d lead him right into her lair.

“You-how did-I-”

They laughed, deep and bright, obviously amused by his shock and confusion. “You only saw what your heart wanted you to see, darling. It’s not my fault you turned into a meek little lamb and followed me here.”

Erebus’s face grew hot. “Well I-I…” his wings sank behind him. He’d thought he was about to be saved. Like an idiot. She’d led him away from the bubbling pools and acrid air into a sort of cave, a furnished one at that. But now he was cornered in here, at a disadvantage in the cramped space. He swallowed and changed the topic, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. “Who are you and what do you want with me?”

“Apologies.” She bowed slightly, the sort of bow people gave when they were pretending to show respect during negotiations, but then declared war a few weeks later. “My name is Asmodeum, and really,” they gave him a disapproving look, “I’d rather not fight with you. I heard you’ve defeated Somiaken and Vorath already, but I believe you and I could work something out without coming to blows.” They held their hands up briefly, but the way they watched him made it clear that their guard was still up. “So, tell me your name, now. Unless you’d prefer I just call you darling?”

Erebus very much did not want that, so he complied. “Erebus. But you didn’t really answer my question. What do you want, if not to fight me?”

Asmodeum sighed wistfully. “Well, I can tell that you’re the sort of person who’ll never agree to what I really want, but I believe something can be arranged. You see, I’ve been stuck here for Akumo knows how long with no toys to play with. So, I was thinking-”

“I-I’m not gonna be your toy,” Erebus choked, his throat feeling like it was closing up. 

“Ah, ah, ah.” Asmodeum wagged a finger. “Let me finish, dear. I could have my way with you quite easily, you know. It would be oh so effortless to drag you back into my domain proper and throw you into a pool of boiling water or lava and watch the show. However, I think your forced cooperation would make this a little more fun, and it would be nice if you behaved for me. So, if you let me do what I want with you, barring the most intimate acts, I’ll let you kill me once I’ve had my fill.”

“What happens if I don’t say yes?”

Asmodeum casually examined their nails. “I will take you by force and I will defile you.”

“D-defile?! You don’t mean…” Erebus quickly glanced down, and Asmodeum smiled wickedly.

“Oh, I do mean. If you let me play with you, I swear I won’t do anything of the sort. Call it an incentive. So come on, Erebus, get rid of your sword.” Erebus just tightened his grip on it, weighing his options. As much as he didn’t want to let this demon…play with him...did he really have any other options? He was exhausted, and there wasn’t much room in here for him to try and put up a proper fight. And more than anything, he really, really didn’t want to risk being...Despite the anxiety building in his chest, Erebus unbuckled the sword belt around his waist, setting it carefully on the ground.

“Fine. But if you so much as touch me there I’ll-I’ll make you regret it.” How would he do that? He wasn’t sure. But he just-he had to make it clear that he wasn’t surrendering. He was just…agreeing to play along. Just to get a break from fighting. He was okay with this. He’d be fine. He'd been through so much worse.

He'd be fine.

“I promise I won’t cross that boundary, don’t you fret.” Asmodeum walked over to him, kicking his sword out of reach as they took his hand. “First things first, you’re absolutely filthy. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

Erebus pulled his hand out of her grasp. “I mean, I-I can do that myself,” he muttered. Asmodeum raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you can, but I want to wash you, dear. And right now,” she grabbed his hand once more, “I get what I want.” They pulled him along into a bathroom, and he followed reluctantly, feeling an odd sense of familiarity in just going along with this sort of thing. Their threat was certainly a motivator, but that didn’t mean he was going to roll over completely on every little thing, right? He had to make it clear that he wasn’t happy with this, despite agreeing to it. She started filling up the bathtub with water, turning to him with a smile. “Let me strip you now.” 

“I-I’d rather-”

“Shhhh.” She placed a finger on his lips, her other hand starting to undo the ties on his shirt. “None of that, dear. I can’t get you all clean if you’re wearing these dirty clothes, now can I?” He looked away as they tugged his shirt off, hoping that they’d-nope, now they were going to try and take off his pants, too.

“You said you weren’t going to-to do that to me.”

“I won’t. But that doesn’t mean you get to keep your clothes on the whole time, you shy little thing. I just won’t touch.” Erebus stifled a whine as she pulled down his pants, and his underwear along with them. “There we go. You can get in now.” He did so, almost jumping into the warm water and crouching down, hugging his knees close and spreading his wings around himself protectively. They gently pushed his wings back, stroking his face as he glared at them with wide eyes. “There’s no use hiding when I’ve already seen everything, silly. I think I’m going to need to get these arms out of the way, hmmm?” They pulled out a pair of manacles, and Erebus’s stomach sank.

“Wait, I won’t resist just-just don’t-”

“Too late for that, Erebus.” She clamped them around his wrists, twisting the chain securely around the faucet. “Besides, you look absolutely darling like that, all helpless. Now, keep those wings out of the way or I’ll pierce them together.” Erebus’s wings sank in defeat, slowly moving back until they were behind him. There wasn’t any winning here, was there? “Good boy.” She grabbed a cup from the countertop and started using it to pour water on him, rinsing away some of the pieces of flesh stuck to his bloodied skin. After she lathered a washcloth with soap, she began to gently clean the dried blood off his face. He screwed his eyes shut, fists clenched as he tried to think about anything else. 

Even back when he was a prince, he’d hated being fussed over, preferring to take care of himself when he could. Asmodeum, however, seemed to have no concept of personal space, or just didn’t care. She had to work hard to get through the blood caked over most of his skin, leaning in close, starting with his face before switching to his hair. Their hands slid in, tenderly working through tangled bloody mats and massaging his scalp. He hated how nice it felt, how much it reminded him of the way Lythia always used to play with his hair, forcing himself to open his eyes and look at Asmodeum, to remind himself who was…

Lythia smiled at him sweetly, and Erebus felt his blood run cold. That wasn’t her, no matter what he saw, no matter how he felt. She wasn’t here. She was back home, probably still tending the palace gardens despite the change in management. Did she still think of him as she looked at all the places they used to laugh? Or could she not get the image of him screaming and sobbing up on that podium out of her mind, unable to remember any other version of him than the one he’d left her with? Maybe that’s what he deserved to be remembered as, since he’d hardly thought of her since that day, the memories too painful. 

Erebus shuddered when Asmodeum moved to his horns, which were always far more sensitive than they had any right to be. She seemed to be able to tell, continuing to stroke them long after they were clean, and as much as he wanted to ask them to stop, he was afraid it would only encourage them. At the very least, the disconnect between Lythia and his horns was enough to push the thoughts of her out of his mind, and Asmodeum changed back to their normal form.

Her hands finally slid lower, caressing his neck, fingers slipping under his collar, making sure the skin underneath was clean, pressing down against his throat every so often as they did so. It wasn't enough to really choke him, but the message was clear.

They moved onto his shoulders, his wings, his arms, his back. He caught their smile as they saw what his right arm really looked like, and her fingers traced his whip scars as they were uncovered. Dread started to pool in his stomach as she moved to his chest, scrubbing away, revealing-

“Oh, well isn’t this pretty.” They marveled at his brand, stroking the lines of the scar, pausing over his rapidly-beathing heart. “Too bad you’re already owned by someone else, huh? But I suppose they’re not here now, are they?” Erebus just bit his lip, refusing to make eye contact. The thought of his…of Neteri not being here hurt, and, try as he might, he couldn’t help but think of her, of the way she’d always protected him. He wondered how angry she’d get if she saw what was happening to him, or if she could feel now that someone besides her was touching him. He could imagine her bursting in, yelling at Asmodeum to get their hands off of him, unchaining him and letting him cover up before pulling him into a hug-wait wait what was he thinking she’d been his captor she’d hurt him and ripped him into pieces and kept him locked up but she'd promised to save him and he missed her.

“What’s wrong, darling? Is even this too much for you?” Asmodeum brushed away a tear he didn’t realize had been falling with her finger, her skin no longer red, but brown. He couldn't look her in the eye. Not while she wore that face. “Such a sensitive little thing.” Hearing those words in that voice was already bad enough. Erebus tugged at his chains, wishing he could rub away those stupid traitorous tears, because he wasn’t crying about Neteri or Asmodeum or any of this. 

Their hands plunged beneath the surface of the blood-clouded water now, and Erebus couldn't stop himself from tensing up as they scrubbed his stomach, glad the parts of him that were previously under clothes weren't as caked in blood as those that weren't. Still, there was enough to clean that she had an excuse for her hands to wander lower still, caressing his hips, his thighs, and now he was trembling, fists clenched, tears dripping even more steadily into the tepid, cloudy water, no one had ever touched him there, at least she was wearing her own face now, but please, please stay away from there, you said you wouldn't touch me there and if you do then why am I here why am I letting you do this why do I keep letting people hurt me if I just stood up for myself more if I wasn't such a coward maybe I'd still be-

"You're rather pathetic, aren't you?" Asmodeum mused as they cradled his face, turning him towards them. Erebus blinked away tears, just now realizing that they'd finished cleaning him, the tub already drained. He couldn't exactly argue, crying and shivering like he was, so he just swallowed and gave the tiniest nod as he pulled himself together, hoping it'd be enough to get them to move on.

With a satisfied smile, she unhooked his wrists from the faucet, but left the manacles on as she pulled him up and out of the tub. He tried to cover himself as best he could as they toweled him off, hoping they’d stop touching him or at least give him clothes soon. Thankfully, they did, handing him a small bundle, and upon unrolling it he found...a pair of shorts that barely reached his knees, and that was all. Once he’d put them on, she dragged him into another room and let go, crossing her arms. “Kneel.” 

“I don’t-” Asmodeum raised an eyebrow, and Erebus stopped himself. They were expecting him to obey their every little whim if he didn’t want to be...he knelt, staring at the floor. She circled him a few times, and he clenched his fists in his lap, hating how much of his body was on display. Not that she hadn’t already seen everything.

“You were just made to kneel, weren't you? Absolutely gorgeous." Erebus's face burned even hotter than before. All he could hope was that they'd be done with him soon, but he'd never specified how long this would go on for when he agreed to it, so this might last…He was such an idiot, why did he just go along with this without any negotiation?

Asmodeum stopped in front of him. "Well, what are you in the mood for, dear? Pain,” her hand slid under his chin, tilting it up, “or pleasure?”

“Please just-anything but-” he choked, and she just laughed.

“Anything, you say? Then, I think...I'm in the mood for this.” They grabbed his collar, yanking him up onto the nearby bed. Before he could even try to sit up they were on him, wrapping themselves around him, worming in between his shackled arms, forcing him to embrace her back. A shudder ran down his spine as her skin came into contact with his, her arms pinning him flush against her body, her legs tangling around his. “Have you ever been this close to someone, darling?” she whispered in his ear, their fingers stroking his hair.

“I-I, um, a few times but-” 

“Aw, and you’re still nervous.” Her hand ran down the back of his head, stopping at his collar. “It’s so cute how you still wear this. I’m sure you could get it off if you tried, so you must like having it on, huh? Do you miss your owner?”

“She’s not-I don’t-I just-it’s…” he screwed his eyes shut, “I can’t take it off, alright?!”

“Such a dutiful little pet-”

“I wasn’t h-her pet!” 

“You’re so adorable when you’re in denial.” They stroked his back, rubbing around the base of his wings. Erebus just opted for staring at the wall, hoping they wouldn't touch his horns. “Do you know how lust demons feed, my dear?”

“By eating…?”

“Well, of course, but not the same way you do. We feed off of humans, more specifically, their bodily fluids.” She smiled widely, showing off her fangs. “And I haven’t had a meal ever since being locked up in here. I normally get my fix a different way, but, to be considerate of you, innocent little boy,” they shifted until their lips were right next to the base of his neck, fingers pushing his collar out of the way, “I’ll settle for feasting on your blood.”

Her fangs sank into his neck, and he couldn’t help but gasp at the sudden pain. He tried to breathe in calmly through gritted teeth as she sucked on the holes in his flesh, drinking his blood. Soon enough, his ears started ringing, and lightheadedness crept in. He gripped the chain between his wrists just too feel something solid, glad that he was lying down, at least. By the time Asmodeum pulled away, licking droplets of blood from their lips, a dizzy haze had settled over Erebus. He closed his eyes, tears leaking out as she snuggled back into him, just hoping that this would all be over soon. In fact, maybe he would just...let the blackness take him...just for a little bit...so he didn’t have to be...awake…

Erebus’s mouth tasted like dried blood when he woke up, and Asmodeum was still wrapped around him tightly. She smiled when their eyes met. “Did you have a good little nap, my darling? I hope you don’t mind, but,” she gripped his chin, her thumb stroking his lips, “I had a little bit of fun with you while you were out of it.” A bit of...wait is that why his mouth tasted like-

“W-you-you can’t d-do that to me I-I don’t-” his voice broke, and he couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, no matter how many fast little breaths he sucked in, just get away, get away from me stop touching me don’t do that to me please please I don’t want that you can’t do that to me you can’t you can’t I never wanted that not from you not from anyone and now now now I-I’m-I’ve been-

He felt something solid press into his hands, and he realized that Asmodeum was standing in front of him, and that was his sword in his hands, he was sitting up now and that was his sword and Asmodeum was smiling they were holding out their arms to him they were ready they were ready they were laughing they were coughing up blood they were on the ground there was so much blood how much of it was his he wasn’t sure he didn’t know they reached up and he backed away he had to get away he couldn’t stay here a second longer she was dead she was dead she was already crumbling away and he had to go he wanted to rip off his own skin he could still feel her touching him where where where were his clothes where was the key to these manacles he had to go he-

Erebus dropped his sword. He fell to his knees. He buried his face in his hands. 

And he screamed.

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

@mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump

@unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump 

@redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog 

@whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump 

@suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryox​​

@vampiresprite

[softquietsteadylove]

I think the break up idea would make a good ao3 content

Always love your work btw ～

Thena's head tipped to the side as she laughed, her hands clasped around her cup of decaf latte. Just like she always had. God, she really looked the same, and sounded the same, and felt the same.

Gil stared, blatantly enchanted by the woman across from him. He had moved swiftly from not wanting her to know how pathetically he had spent the last year and a half to telling her about his one miserable attempt at a relationship. "Yeah, I didn't even realise what made her storm out like that until the guys told me."

Thena gave him a chastising look over the rim of her cup. "Gilgamesh."

"I know, I know, it's bad," he admitted while also smiling into his own cup of coffee. He shouldn't make light of having called the last girl he was with the wrong name. But he couldn't help but be glad it was good for something (making Thena laugh).

"If it were me, I would have done the same," Thena offered in his poor ex's defense.

Not that he would have really called her his girlfriend, all things considered. Maybe if that was the only name for it, but he had made it clear at the time that he wasn't looking for anything that serious. Not after Thena.

"I don't blame her," he shrugged, still too preoccupied with the woman in front of him. It was as if he were in a dream and she might vanish at any moment.

"Did you ever apologise to her?"

"'Course," he huffed. He leaned forward on the table, sitting his cheek against his fist. "I have some decency, y'know."

"I know." The quick and familiar rhythm of their conversation stumbled. It had done so a few times, now. For the most part, they felt like themselves three years ago. Things flowed easily between them. But this was the third time now that Thena had said something a bit more pronounced, or more softly, or wistfully.

He looked at her, although as soon as he did her eyes darted down to stare into her mug again. He could feel them circling something. He faked taking another sip; his mug was smaller than hers and he was already done, but he didn't want another cup, and he didn't want to leave, either.

Thena put her mug down, freeing one of her hands to tuck some hair behind her ear. She was still feeling a little restless. "And how has work been?"

It was a very mundane question after the last. But that was okay, she could ask him all the boring shit she wanted. "Restaurant's good--I finally found some good guys for the kitchen so I can take off earlier or take a day off here and there."

Thena merely nodded, appearing to be out of commentary. Her eyes darted down to her mug.

"You out?" he asked directly. It wasn't the most charming way to ask, but he was curious. She nodded, her lips pinching sheepishly. He smiled, "want more?"

She hook her head.

"Yeah, I guess I'm all coffee-d out," he sighed, standing from the little stool. The tall, metal stools always did feel somewhat uncomfortable the longer spent on their square forms. Thena showed no signs of butt fatigue as she also stood. He held his hand out, "bus or uber?"

She tilted her head, but took his offered hand, "taxi."

He grinned; she was still like an old lady with technology. She knew what an uber was but she had probably never ordered one in her life. His hand closed around hers, "there's a spot where they all park that's just around the corner. Probably quicker than calling one."

Thena followed him silently, but he was fine with her silence. It was another thing that felt terribly, painfully familiar to him as he walked out with her hand in hand.

"What about the museum?" he asked in a bit of a rush, reminding himself to ask about her work and her interests.

She smiled as they took slow, tiny steps in the snow. "Quite the same, I believe. Kingo is attempting to convince upper management that he should be in charge of the social media accounts."

"He'd probably do pretty well at that, actually," Gil muttered mostly to himself. He had always liked her friend from work, Kingo. Well, once he had learned that he wasn't interested in Thena, of course.

He snuck his eyes over to her. He caught her doing the same before she rushed them away again, her other hand reaching for her scarf.

There was even less street noise than before they had gone into the little cafe, most of the city asleep and avoiding the snow. Those who were out were probably a few blocks away in the pubs, like his friends whom he had abandoned. He looked over his shoulder.

"Ah, shit."

Thena blinked, still following him silently but now as he dragged her to the corner and around it. "Gil?"

"The guys," he grumbled as he pulled her around the corner of the building, just out of the streetlight enough that they might not recognise him with his back turned. "I, uh, kinda left them in the bar back there."

"Gilgamesh," she chided him again, but she was obviously amused by it.

In fact, he could hear them as they got closer. Were they always so loud and obnoxious? Maybe he just noticed it less when he was getting drunk, too. But he had to admit, that was appealing to him less and less these days. He had chalked it up to getting older.

But looking at Thena, that wasn't it. It wasn't that he just didn't like going out with the guys anymore, it was just that he would rather just be at home, enjoying a quiet night instead. He wanted to be horizontal on the couch, the tv playing whatever. He wanted to have his back against the back of the couch, and what he really wanted was a smaller, lighter frame to be lying in front of him, his arm draped over her because it made him feel big and strong and protective. And she would doze off because she found what he liked on tv uninteresting. But they would lie around together like that for hours.

"Gil?"

He shuffled them closer to the wall as the voices got closer and closer. Even if they did manage to overlook his huge frame, even from the back, they would most certainly recognise Thena. It was impossible not to.

Thena let him guide her closer to him as he raised his arm up against the snowy building's facade. To a passerby, he would probably just look like he was leaning, maybe they would think he was putting the moves on someone, if they could see her past him at all.

He all but held his breath as his drunk asshole friends yapped their way down the sidewalk and past them completely. He knew those idiots wouldn't notice him. He was surprised they had even gathered that he left. He looked down at Thena, tucked against his chest, "sorry-"

She tilted her head up, catching his lips with her own. But it wasn't that accidental. She was definitely kissing him. His hand moved to her cheek completely on its own, like damn sense memory or something. But it made her kiss him again, so maybe it wasn't that bad.

They pulled apart slowly. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted it as if he had been starving the past two years of his life and was finally given some good fucking food again.

Thena's cheeks took on a shade of rouge that stood out against the snow and her general pallor. She slid back half a step. "S-Sorry, I-I shouldn't--it's-"

He caught her hands again before she could slither away in embarrassment. Her eyes avoided his again but he was happy to stare at her blatantly, reciprocated or not. "Don't be sorry."

He pulled her in again, kissing her more properly. It really was like sense memory, but it was better than any memory he had been mulling over for the past however long. Their lips fit together naturally, Thena melted into him like she was the better atop a thick stack of fluffy pancakes. His arm wrapped around her, holding the smallness of her waist, even in her heavy white coat.

They parted again. He moaned quietly and she let out more of a gentle purr. Her hand had slipped up the front of his coat and halfway inside his lapel, although she snapped it back to herself. He blinked, feeling more dazed after that kiss than any number of shots the guys would have told him to get. "See?"

Thena's eyes drifted down again, still blushing, much to his delight. "I didn't plan this with this in mind."

No, she wouldn't have planned to kiss him outside, under the cover of shadow, snow falling on their heads. But that was okay. He dusted some snow out of her hair again. "I know."

She stepped back from him more properly, in a physical declaration that no more kissing would be taking place. She gripped the ends of her scarf. "I should get home."

"Okay," he smiled, although he had to admit that his first instinct was to ask her to stay. He just wanted another hour, just five more minutes. Just one more kiss before she left again.

She took his hand again, letting him lead her to her ride home. Her hand flinched in his before giving it a quiet squeeze. "Next week is a long weekend."

His eyes sparked. She wouldn't bring it up just to make conversation. But he was curious if she would ask him for herself or if she would end up making him ask her out. To be honest, he was okay if that was what she wanted. He had plenty of experience in it. "Oh, yeah."

Her hand was still holding onto her scarf for dear life. But she braved on, "the museum will be closed on the monday. If I recall, so will the restaurant."

She still knew the restaurant hours. His heart leapt in his chest, "yeah."

Finally without any cover left, she managed to squeak out, "if you like, we could-"

"Love to," he blurted out, even stepping on the end of her question. Maybe it was overeager. Maybe it was even more pathetic than admitting he hadn't even come close to moving on from her. But he didn't care.

Her eyes darted up to his one last time before shyness took over and she looked away again. "Hm."

That was her way of sealing the deal, and the nostalgia of her quiet 'hm's and 'indeed's warmed the tips of his fingers. "It's a date."

The glow of the taxi numbers came into view. He had to let her go again. But Thena gave him one last - beautiful - smile. "Then I'll see you monday."

She left his side to cross the street, one of them having already started up their engine at the sight of her. He watched her, from being the only person in sight to getting in. She gave him one last wave before her carriage took off for her side of town.

Neither had asked if their numbers were the same. Maybe that meant that she hadn't wanted to change hers either. He wondered what the background of her phone was now (it had also been of their trip to Australia, once upon a time).

He also tried not to obsess over the kiss. It didn't mean this was anything more serious. They were just two old friends catching up, he told himself. Although his fingers were tingling, eager to hold her like that again.

[moongothic]

Honestly the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced OPLA's [random Background Extra at Roger's execution everyone thought was pre-t Crocodile] isn't actually Crocodile.

And just so we're clear; we don't need that Background Extra to be pre-t Crocodile for Crocodile to be trans and/or Luffy's other dad. One Piece already has a fuck ton of material to provide for us to push the Crocodad Agenda and this Extra from OPLA would not and frankly does not tip the scale of Crocodad's plausibility in either direction (as I'm going to attempt to explain). I know a lot of us got kind of attached to the idea that the Extra could be Croc because it added fuel to the fire for the fandom (hell, it is what made me fall down the Crocodad Rabbithole to begin with), and so the fact that I'm now going to try to dismiss it might feel a little bad. I just want you to understand that we don't need that Extra to be Crocodile. We have better evidence for Crocodad elsewhere.

Anyways, yeah, the more I think about the less I think that lady is pre-transition Crocodile (-> going to be she/her'ing her). To be fair, there isn't really much to provide as evidence for either case, since she was just A Background Extra who we saw for a split second. It's just that I don't think it's a "50/50 it could go either way", but more like a "92/8 probably not, though not impossible" Also quick reminder I have not watched OPLA, all I know about this Extra is from screencaps so if I'm missing any helpful context then yeah that's why.

My key reasoning is pretty boring though. It's just that she does not look like Crocodile. As in, she does not have enough of Crocodile's key features (in his character design overall) that help us recognize Crocodile as Crocodile. Yes, we have no idea how he looked during Roger's execution. Yes, he probably did not have his iconic scar nor hook during this time. That's not what I'm talking about. There's more to Crocodile's character design than those two things.

When we saw Crocodile at Roger's execution in Chapter 0, we specifically saw him from behind. We don't know how his face looked nor do we know what he might've been wearing. All we do know is that: He was wearing a furlined (or a full fur) coat. He had his cigars. He wore his hair slicked back, and he had at least one earring.

And all this Background Extra has going for her is the earring(s). Even her hair, which, sure, IS slicked back, is still quite different from how Crocodile wears his hair, as it seems much longer with braids and seeming to be tied back. And yes I know pre-t Crocodile might had long hair, it's not like we can really see or tell in the panel.

But there's two things I want you to think about here.

1) Oda generally speaking does not change character designs that much through out the series, as the characters get older etc. Like generally speaking, each character has certain traits and features that help us recognize the characters, and while Oda may change some features about the characters, he'll also always go out of his way to ensure they also retain other features, so that they remain recognizable to the readers. Here's a few examples to drive my point

Moria's body changes a lot as he gets older but his facial features remain essentially the same as does his haircut (and his alt fashion style)

Sabo's haircut changes completely as does his face a little bit, but his fashion sense has not changed one bit

Her ⌛️ phase aside (because Oda is a horny bastard), baby Charlotte Linlin has the same big nose, large eyes and huge smile as she does as Big Mom+the rotund body shape in general (and even ⌛️ Linlin, who is otherwise unrecognizable, has Big Mom's iconic pirate hat)

Baby Doflamingo wearing his stupid little glasses even as a kid- we don't know what he looks like without them, but the sunglasses make him weirdly more recognizable that way

Really, I could go on, but the point remains; Oda does not drastically change character designs often, and even when he does, they're still recognizable because they retain certain features. And so the fact that the Background Extra doesn't really have "enough" of those features makes it hard for me to buy that's Crocodile. Because...

2) ...If OPLA did want to include pre-t Crocodile as an easter egg, why make it this vague? Genuinely, they could've given the Extra something slightly more recognizable to us, like given her either a cigar or a furlined coat (maybe not both), and honestly there'd still be a really good level of deniability if Netflix wanted to be cheeky about it. Like OPLA wouldn't have to worry about them confirming Crocodile being trans before Oda, because we don't know how Crocodile looked during this time. Even with the coat or a cigar we'd still have no way to prove or debunk whether or not the Extra really was pre-t Croc (as long as nobody in staff went and blurted it out).

But as the Extra is right now, her resemblance to Crocodile is so non-existant that it feels frankly pointless to me if that really was him, it's too deniable. Where as, imagine if she had a furlined coat on. We'd be having a much more heated discussion about whether or not that really was Crocodile, because then the resemblance would be immidiately much more noticable, but still just vague enough to be deniable -> much more heated debate.

And I know, I know, people can change drastically how they present themselves when transing their gender, so it could be realistic if pre-t Crocodile looked nothing like post-t Croc. But this is a silly comic with a funny rubber boy as the protagonist. This is fucking One Piece, man, you can't get much more unrealistic than OP And again, like. How many characters in OP have dressed nearly the exact same and presented themselves in the exact same style their whole lives? It's not realistic, but that's what OP is like, so frankly it would be much more on-brand for the series if pre-t Crocodile presented himself the exact same as he does now. Because that is how Oda normally does it.

But again. Regardless, there's plenty of material in the manga for trans Crocodile truthers to cling onto. This Extra does not add anything substantial by any stretch of imagination. She just does not matter.

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.