#i was so bewildered by the whole situation that i was only able to say no and start to walk away

[kdelarenta]

oh i'm so cooked 😃

[kooqitas]

#pairing: best.friend!mingyu x reader ♡ #rough sex, humiliation, unprotected sex,

you always imagined that mingyu had feelings for you even though he was one of your best friends, and even if it was a little wrong maybe that was why you knocked on his door when your fertile period arrived.

it was actually easy, you always knew that mingyu was a 'pussy drunk' and that when it came to YOUR pussy he would be even more necessary. you arrived at his apartment with pizza and wine, you ate, drank, watched movies and before you knew it you were telling him how much the wine changed you! how 'easy' you became when the drink hit and made you feel unbearably horny.

maybe you were making fun of his feelings and no, you wouldn't be proud of it, but the horniness makes you so dumb that soon you started saying that your fingers weren't long and thick enough, that since you finished you relationship you hadn't been able to cum and that frustrated you, and you saw every gulp of saliva that mingyu made, every grip on your thigh that he gave in an attempt to control himself. and there you knew you would end the night exactly where you wanted: in his bed.

"you should try a vibrator," he suggested, a little uncomfortable, trying to pretend he wasn't imagining you fucking yourself with the toy.

"it's not funny... i want someone to fuck me hard."

you saw mingyu swallow again... "do it for me, gyu, fuck me!"

things happened in a complicated way, one second mingyu was on top of you and the next he was saying he couldn't, that you were too drunk. but he gave in, slid his hand into your panties, cursing how wet you were, and put one, two, three fingers inside you.

mingyu looked like a puppy, completely bewildered by the whole situation, he just needed to make you cum. his left hand went to your breasts, pinching the tip of your nipple while he continued fucking you with all three fingers.

"you are a bitch!" he said, still pushing his thick fingers against you, you couldn't tell if it was desire or anger, but whatever, it felt fucking good. "you're a fucking slut destroying our friendship over an orgasm"

"you say that but you keep fingering me… am i the bitch or are you a pathetic puppy?"

mingyu didn't answer, he just hit you, his heavy hand hitting your face without any hint of remorse, and then hitting your clit next, making you moan loudly.

"don't you dare make fun of me, not when you're a slut humiliating yourself to be fucked"

mingyu wanted to get up and tell you to leave, but all he could do was put your legs on his shoulder and start eating you out, his hot tongue going down all over your folds, making you squirm as he seemed to want to devour you. mingyu was agile, he made it clear how much experience he had and damn all you could think about was why you hadn't given yourself to him before

"i-im gonna-" you moaned, but mingyu stopped you before you could finish your sentence. "why did you stop?"

he laughed, machiavellian, the smile tugging at the corners, making you a little worried.

"what? you come to my house, act like a good girl, drink, act like a poor thing, beg me to eat this pussy and think that's enough?"

"but gyu, i-"

"shut the fuck up! you're a pathetic bitch"

you even wanted to argue, to say no, the only pathetic one there was him, but when you saw him, he had answered something very different.

"yes, i am!"

mingyu smiled, making you realize what you had said out loud, you thought about taking it back, but damn, he was so attractive and you wanted to cum so badly… maybe the best thing would be to just go with his flow.

"fuck me, gyu! make me your pathetic bitch… your cum dump…"

"you're sick…"

"please, gyu, i need you so much!"

he pushed you against the couch, not giving you a second to think as he thrust his thick cock inside you, making you whimper from the slight suffocation that the pillow beneath you offered you.

"is this what you want? to be fucked like a bitch in heat? a slut? do you want me to eat you and leave you here alone leaking my cum? i can do that, bitch!"

"g-gyu." You moaned. "s-slowly." you teased, making a sly little voice to irritate him.

"didn't you want this shit? didn't you want to end our fucking friendship just to feel a thick cock inside that disgusting pussy? do now take this shit."

mingyu pulled your head down, pushing your head even further against the pillow at the same time he gave your ass a loud slap, making you moan and lower your hips. and then he hit you again.

"don't be useless, keep that fucking hot ass up for me."

he continued to thrust hard, now pulling your hair hard with the intention of making you look at him and fuck, and god, looking at mingyu through the shoulders, sweaty, naked, with a pissed off look while he fucked you was simply the first wonder of the world

"stop screaming fuck, you begged so much for dick and you can't hold out a little without looking desperate?"

you didn't know THIS mingyu, and it was a surprise to discover that he was not only exactly how you wanted but much better. he kept thrusting hard, scratching your things, pulling your hair and your neck, and you came when his thumb ended up on your clit, you came embarrassingly, closing your legs as he kept fucking you until he finally filled you.

of course you wanted it, but you never thought you would be able to feel mingyu's cum dripping out of you, but more than an orgasm, it felt like a personal satisfaction…

he pulled away from you, still half dazed, his head dizzy from what they had just done, damn, it was a five-year friendship…

"gyu…"

"no. shut up, holy shit, what the hell did we do?"

and reality hit the door, damn, mingyu was one of your best friends… what the hell had happened.

"i… i'm in my fertile period, okay? i'm sorry!"

"fuck, and then you chose ME to deal with you like a dog in heat?"

"gyu…"

"no 'gyu'… fuck, you crossed the line… and you know the worst part? i liked that shit!"

"so we can do it again… hm? in your bed? your kitchen? balcony?"

"don't test my patience…"

"gyu…"

"fuck, i hate you!"

and yes… you came in his bed, and also in the bathroom, in the kitchen, on the balcony, you even tested the building's elevator afterwards…

[tojisun]

im shaking in need my god pop star f!reader x hockey player price oh god oh god

EXCLUSIVE: john price (2), goalie for the specgru and a nominee for this year’s vezina, seen holding hands with a budding pop star of the era, five years his junior.

both are seen dining together and walking around downtown after this night's victorious game against the florida shadows. the two seemed to be engrossed in their conversation and are happy with each other.

it is important to note that price had stated two years ago that he was taking himself out of the dating market after divorce with now ex-beau martha castillo, his wife of four years. is he rescinding his statement? when was this relationship formed? did… (subscribe to suns net to read more)

"jesus," john rumbles, his words muffled behind his palm as he sags in his chair. he passes the tablet back to laswell, their manager, and refuses to make eye contact with anyone else in the group.

the team were the first to call him since the incident, the incessant ringing rousing him from his peaceful dream. he stretched his arm out to pluck his phone from the nightstand, careful not to jostle you awake.

in the end, his efforts were futile because your own team reached out to you. unlike the specgru's management team, yours were more prepared for the fiasco, sending threads of emails full of instructions how to deal with the situation.

it's not necessarily a scandal, not with how there were more people reacting in favour of the relationship, but john had always been a private person and he is just not used to how his relationship with you ended up being public just overnight.

it's not your fault, no matter how many times you've told him so. he knew what he was getting into when he pursued you. he told his team, their PR department, and even his parents about what might change. even martha was given a lengthy call, the two of them making arrangements how martha and her new wife could possibly avoid being pulled into the spotlight.

so really, everything's fine. it really is. it's just that you've been ignoring his calls since this all started, running out of his flat with a yelled, "be back!", only to disappear for hours. john is worried.

"lassie’s probably doing work. damage control an' all that—you know how it is in the bizz," johnny says, consoling.

"do you know how the 'bizz' even works, 'tavish?" kyle pipes in.

john hears a choked sound, then an abrupt yelp, before scuffling fills his ears.

great. now his team’s tussling.

“out,” kate’s voice pierces through his thoughts. “you all, out. you’re distracting.”

“but missus!” johnny whines, but he doesn’t get to say any more and john looks up, wanting to see how terrifying kate must have looked like to shut johnny up.

oh, yeah, he thinks. that'd put the fear of god in anyone, alright.

he watches as the team shuffles out, all of them sending him comforting smiles, before he’s left alone with kate and alex. kate sits in front of him. “run it by me again, john. where did she tell you she’d be?"

john licks the back of his teeth, hesitating, but before he can respond, his phone rings. three chirps pass when john was finally able to reach for it, ignoring the bewildered look that alex is giving him—kate, it seems, is not even shocked by how agile john is when it comes to you.

"hello?" he murmurs, turning away from his managers in lieu of privacy. from the reflection of the window, he sees alex look away too, in pretense with john, while kate continues to stare, scrutinizing.

"hi, baby," you chirp with a giggle as if you were not radio silent for four whole hours; the afternoon is about to swell at its peak, the summer sun sweltering from every corner of the city. "i missed you lots."

and just like that, john feels himself relaxing. his shoulders sag in the newfound comfort wafting from within his chest, his bruised lips—he didn't even know he had been biting them in his worry—slipping between his teeth, and his forehead easing from all his frowning.

john feels like he's won another game; like they've defeated the shadows and claimed the cup for themselves already.

"s'alright," he says, a touch softer. "all is well f'r you?"

"all is well," you reply, voice curling like you’re smiling. "i'm gonna do somethin' soon so all i ask is that you trust me, okay?"

"of course," john instantly replies before his mind could even comprehend what you just said. "wait what-"

"okay then. bye!"

the line drops just like that.

"oh god," kate hisses from behind john. john can't quite say he mirrors the sentiment because anything you do is good. everything that you are is bright.

he would trust you with a goal, if he could—you have his heart already, after all.

.

"holy shit!" mactavish shrieks before a phone is shoved underneath john's face.

he goes cross-eyed, blinded by the blue light for a minute, before he is finally able to push johnny's hand away. he plucks the phone from his friend, grunting when the rest of the squad flank him, heads butting his own as they try to get a glimpse of what was on mactavish's phone.

simon begins to laugh while kyle repeats johnny's words.

john can't blame them. holy shit indeed.

it was a new post from you, in instagram. it was a picture he remembers you asking him to take for you from the night before, all coy as you danced in front of him, both of you ignoring the obvious tent underneath his sweats.

"i want a keepsake," you murmured while batting your eyelashes. "please?"

"it's all yours, if you want," john remembers replying, all parched with his need.

"no," you said with a giggle. "a picture's enough."

"okay," he had said with a croak, his eyes blown wide as desire bloats from the pit of his belly.

so here it is now, posted for everyone's eyes in your account, the product of your seduction—you, sitting on the back your legs, stretching out on the bed, clothed in nothing but his jersey for a top—the bold and white-coloured 2 almost covers your whole back—and a black bikini for a bottom.

his eyes flit to the caption: comfy in his shirt. #letsgospecgru

"holy shit," john rasps out loud this time, his need growing teeth.

keller bursts into the locker room. “your turn to post with her merch.” he throws something at john and it is only his reflexes that allows him to catch it with his hands.

he looks at it—it’s a cream jumper sold during the release of your new album. the material is soft, the embroidery so smooth. the logo, even, is beautiful.

say less, he thought, already slipping out of his practice shirt and into the jumper.

.

[image]

pricejhn2: her number one fan #newalbum

[kikyoupdates]

Goddess Wink ⭑˚💘⭑ 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑

bnha x f!reader

reverse harem, my hero academia x fem!reader, slowburn

Ever since your Quirk first manifested, you’ve been the apple of everyone’s eye. With the goal of becoming a hero, you enroll to U.A. and soon find yourself drawing the attention of many. Will you form genuine connections with others, or is this all just your power's will?

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Mikael brought you to what could only have been described as a castle. It was the biggest residence you’d ever seen in your life, and it could easily accommodate all of the children from the orphanage, with ample room for others.

You stared up at the manor, bewildered. “Are you rich?”

“I suppose you could say that,” he laughed. “There are other attendants that live here as well, so we won’t have this big place all to ourselves.”

“Wow…”

You were used to sharing your room with countless other children, but here no doubt you’d be able to have a room all to yourself. Mikael himself was a rather mysterious man, and he hadn’t explained anything to you yet, but you were starting to feel optimistic about the whole situation. He led you inside, where a woman with her hair tied up into a neat bun was waiting in the lobby. Based on her attire, she looked to be a maid. One of the attendants that Mikael had mentioned, then.

“It’s very nice to meet you, [Name].” The woman bowed her head before you. She had honey-gold hair and violet eyes, and a thick accent that you couldn’t quite place. “My name is Freja. I will be helping take care of you while you’re here.”

“You speak funny,” you remarked.

Freja cracked a smile. “My apologies, miss. I am of Danish descent. Japanese isn’t my first language, but I hope that I speak it well enough that you are still able to understand me.”

“Danish?”

“I go on many travels,” Mikael explained. “I met Freja during one of my travels to Denmark. Now, let me give you a tour of the place and get you settled in. I’ll explain the rest afterwards.”

He grabbed you by the hand and led you through the rest of the mansion. It was even bigger on the inside than how it appeared from the outside. You caught glimpses of the other attendants, but you didn’t stop to chat with them while you were going through the tour. Mikael assured you that you would have a chance to meet everyone properly later. There were more rooms than you could count, and more bathrooms than anyone could ever need, but Mikael explained to you that all of the attendants had their own room, and thus, much of the mansion was actually in use. There were paintings all over the walls and other sculptures and ornamental decorations that looked more expensive than you could possibly comprehend.

Finally, he showed you to your room.

“Amazing!” you exclaimed, immediately bouncing onto the plush bed. “It’s so big!”

It was one of the biggest rooms in the entire place and decorated with your favorite colors. You wondered how he could have possibly known. You were feeling a bit tired from the tour, and now that you’d made it to your room, it’d be nice if he could answer some of your questions.

“Who is Aphrodite?” you asked, clutching a pillow to your chest. Mikael went still for a moment, then smiled, taking a seat by the edge of your bed.

“She is one of the twelve gods of Mount Olympus; one of the most important and revered gods in all of ancient Greece.”

“Greece is a country in Europe.”

“You are correct.”

“But ancient Greece,” you frowned. “That would’ve been a long time ago, no? Why did you call me a descendant of this Aphrodite, then?”

Mikael placed a finger on the tip of your nose. “It’s because of the nature of your Quirk. Your powers emulate those of the goddess Aphrodite herself. Your ability to charm others and create feelings of love, I mean.”

“But that’s just my Quirk,” you protested, pushing his finger away. “What do I have to do with those gods? I don’t get it. And why did you say my powers wouldn’t work on you?”

“I suppose it would be difficult to explain everything all at once, but your powers, essentially, have to do with making others have a feeling of love towards you. It revolves primarily around romantic attraction, but that being said, it isn’t limited to romantic attraction. For instance, you found that at times, your powers worked on the caretakers from the orphanage too, right?” he asked. When you nodded your head, he smiled. “Yes, well, seeing as you are only a child, the feelings they had towards you couldn’t have been romantic attraction. It is possible that people will be swayed by your Quirk even if what they are feeling is platonic love, or familial love. Basically, your powers allow you to endear yourself to others, so that they value you and care for you. Or at the very least, they create an illusion of those feelings for a lasting period of time.”

You frowned. “This is starting to sound really complicated.”

“I’m sorry. You’re still very young. As it stands, you probably still haven’t quite grasped the concept of love to begin with.”

“So why did you think I had something to do with Aphrodite?”

“Yes, yes,” Mikael nodded, “I’m glad you’re so perceptive. The thing is, you and I actually have a great deal in common. You see, we are both related to Greek Gods. You, of course, have a much stronger association, since you are a direct descendant of one of the twelve Olympians, but I too am a descendant of the gods.”

“What?” you gaped. “Really?”

“Yes, really. That was how I was able to find where you were in the first place. Once your Quirk had manifested, I felt a strong presence shake me. I was guided by what I can only describe as a vivid supernatural force, until I finally found where you were. This is because of our shared connection to the gods.”

You squeezed your pillow, bouncing up and down on the mattress. “That’s so cool,” you marveled. “Hey, that’s really cool, right? That we’re related to the gods? Hey—which god are you related to?”

“I am a descendant of Eros, who was in fact Aphrodite’s son.”

“So I’m your mom? Even though you’re older than me?”

Mikael chuckled. “No, we are only their descendants, but we share a strong connection as a result. The gods have many descendants, as a matter of fact, but often they have no powers to speak of and appear to be mere mortals. Your Quirk reflects your ancestry, but I don’t have any powers that relate to my god.”

“What’s your Quirk then, Mikael?”

“Me?” He smiled at you for a few moments, then gently patted your head. “I don’t have a Quirk. I never developed one. As for how exactly I know I’m related to the gods, it may be hard for you to understand, but it’s a deep, spiritual feeling. One day, I just knew.”

Quirkless…

You’d heard stories back in the orphanage, but you’d never actually met anyone without a Quirk. There were children younger than you who still didn’t have one, but as a rule, all Quirks developed by the age of four. You’d gotten yours then, the older children all had theirs, and so did the adults. You wondered what it would be like, to live your entire life without a power to call your own.

“Even though I don’t have a Quirk,” Mikael went on, “the reason I am so confident yours won’t affect me is because of our shared ancestry. I too am related to a god of love, which is why your powers won’t be able to affect me the way they would others.”

“Oh.” You breathed a small sigh of relief. “That’s good, then. To be honest, it’s really hard for me to control my powers. Ever since I got it, people follow me around and tell me they love me nonstop. I don’t know how to turn it off, and it sometimes feels like I’m just tricking people into doing things for me…”

He ran his fingers through your hair and shook his head. “That’s not the case at all. Your powers are just so strong. People are instinctively drawn to you, but with training, you can learn to regulate and control your Quirk. At first glance, it may seem like a good thing to have so many fawning over you, but unadulterated love can turn to obsession, and in some cases, it may harm you rather than help you.”

“I can learn to control it?”

“Yes, of course. I will help you get used to your powers.”

You felt your chest bubbling with warmth. If what Mikael was saying was the truth, and he really wasn’t affected by your powers, then he was helping you because he wanted to, not because he felt like he had to. There was someone who was willing to care for you, and not just because of your Quirk. It was the first time you’d felt such relief in months.

“Thank you, Mikael.” You hobbled across the bed on your knees, wrapping your little arms around his torso. “I’ll do my best to get better at using my Quirk. I’ll do my best, so promise you won’t leave me like my parents did, okay?”

You felt his chest rumble with gentle laughter. “Of course I won’t. You’re here to stay for good. We’ll take care of you, [Name].”

Character overview: 

Name: [Last Name] [Name]

Age: 15/16 years old

Likes: cute things, memes, fashion, sweets, hanging out with friends, flirting

Dislikes: Ares, responsibility, shallow people

Quirk: Aphrodite

The user’s Quirk charms those around them. Targets who have been “charmed” may find themselves under the user’s influence, and/or weakened to some degree. The amount of control the user has depends on the level of attraction the target experiences. Powers are most effective when physically touching the target. The user may use their powers to temporarily immobilize their target, have them experience psychological pain, or even manipulate them into performing certain actions.

Overuse of Quirk can result in sudden energy loss, headaches, and temporary numbness in limbs.

Stats:

Power: 2/5 D

Speed: 4/5 B

Intelligence: 4/5 B

Cooperation: 5/5 A

Technique: 6/5 S

Household/relationships: 

♡ Mikael: 

[Name]'s primary caretaker. He is both an artist and an art dealer. A descendant of the Greek God of love, Eros. Is whimsical and can be overly idealistic at times, but is a very kind and patient man. Cares for [Name] a great deal, and is addicted to chocolate.

♡ Freja: 

One of the attendants in Mikael's manor. After meeting Mikael during one of his visits to Denmark, she moved to Japan to start working for him. Is not descended from any of the gods. Considers [Name] to be like a child of her own. Dislikes having to clean up Mikael's art supplies.

♡ Rui: 

Another one of the attendants who begins working at Mikael's manor once [Name] starts attending U.A. Attends college part-time, and enjoys playing pranks on other members of the household. Is not descended from any of the gods. Likes scouring the net for memes with [Name] and having her model cute outfits. 

♡ Ares: 

???

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[yellowjackets96]

i owe you a black eye and two kisses / angus tully x reader

summary / after defending your best friend’s honor in a scuffle with kountze, he decides to take first aid into his own hands.

warnings / mentions of blood, bruises, and general injuries

word count / 2K even!

heyyy, baby’s first x reader fanfiction! cannot believe i have been alive nearly twenty damn years and never once did this. who crode?

You cannot seem to remember when the blood started to pour from your mouth or the moment you realized Kountze’s nose should not be pointed in that direction, but both moments hit you like a freight train when Angus grabs your arm.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims, fingers prodding at the newborn black eye on your face. “You– you– my god.”

As cooly as possible, you pop your neck to the side and smirk. “Heh. All in a day’s work.”

“You could’ve killed him,” one of Kountze’s goons says, tending to his nose. The blonde bully is shell-shocked, a state of mind you previously believed to be inherently against his nasty nature.

You scoff, shrugging at the lackey. “I’m sure his daddy can help,” you remark, spinning around on your heel and striding out of the room, with a hyped Angus in tow. He’s so energized, he could probably shoot himself off the walls like a projectile and fly back to you like a boomerang.

“I can’t believe you had that in you,” he mutters, still quite bewildered by your sucker punch. “In all my years of knowing you…I don’t think he’ll ever bother me again, now.”

You turn slightly to grin at him. “Hey, I’m glad to hear it. Guy’s a real fuckface and a half. His reign of terror has gone on far too fucking long.”

Once you get to your modest dorm room towards the end of the hall, you feel Angus reach out and touch you once again, and he gazes at you sternly, his expression mirroring a way only your mom looks at you. You roll your eyes, hands not moving from turning the key in the door. “What’s the matter, Tully?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, a deep grimace on his face. “He was shit-talking me, not you. And now you’ve got a black eye, your lip is busted, and you could’ve lost teeth, and–”

You swiftly cut him off. “So? You’re my best friend. I was simply defending your honor. Little shit shouldn’t be able to get away with mocking your familial situation. It’s not like you can control it.” Twisting the knob to the side, you gently push the door open and step into the room, eyeing him slightly. “You can come in, if you’re not planning on lecturing me.”

“Well,” Angus says, shutting the door behind him. “You can ignore my chastising to high heaven, but you’re still going to need some wound care for the black-and-blue knuckles, swollen eye, and split lip. Even if you don’t wanna ice the bruises and bumps, though, you need to keep the lip stuff from the point of possible infections.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “Everything that could possibly hurt is just…dully throbbing. And I’m sure all the bleeding was due to how shallow the cuts were. I need nothing more than an ibuprofen and a bandaid.”

For the third time, the boy takes a grip on your arm, lanky digits wrapping around your cold skin gently enough to leave no mark, but firmly enough to stop you definitively in your tracks. “Sit down,” he states, the edge of hoarseness in his voice causing it to be barely above a whisper. “Now.”

You find his forceful tone compelling enough to follow his commands, pushing your swivel chair around until it faces forward and reluctantly take a seat. “Fine. Have it your way.”

“Thank you,” Angus says, winking at you before immediately diving headfirst into rummaging through your cabinets and drawers. “You’re gonna need the whole nine yards of first aid care here. Just be patient, okay? I know from you doing it for me that the process tends to be lengthy.”

“Whatever you say,” you murmur. “As long as you don’t break anything valuable during your expedition into my belongings.”

He turns to you with a hearty smirk, arms filled with cotton pads, alcohol wipes, hydrogen peroxide bottles, bandages, and tweezers, among multiple other things. “Oh yeah?” he says, seemingly challenging you as he places the supplies on the desk behind you. “And what would you do about it if I did?”

“Probably cut up my end of our friendship bracelets,” you reply, not missing a beat. “You don’t even wear yours, anyway.”

Angus does not even need to speak to refute your claim as he pushes his sweater sleeve past his watch, revealing the braided object in question is still on display on the part of his arm that no one can see. Your jaw goes slightly askew at the revelation. “I stand corrected.”

He chuckles, sufficiently satisfied with the exchange as he flips the cap open on one of the peroxide bottles, pressing it against a cotton pad. Once he determines it to be prepared enough for your bloodied mouth, he looks over at you, eyebrows furrowed in thought. A moment of contemplation passes – he closely scans your face up and down, down and up, enough times to be able to sketch it perfectly from memory, as he nods to himself. With a steady step forward, he places the pad between his thumb and pointer finger and goes in, forcefully dabbing it against your bottom lip. All of the miniscule amounts of warmth escapes your body as you roughly suck air in through your teeth, grabbing a fistful of the cuff of his sweater.

“Does that hurt?” Angus asks, wide brown eyes filled with an entire galaxy’s worth of concern. “Be honest with me.”

You grind your teeth, putting as much effort as humanly possible into a brave face. “It stings, that’s for sure.”

He quickly withdraws the soggy gauze from your mouth. “Good news, then, ‘cause I’m already done with it.”

“Shit!” you exclaim, hands flying up to your bottom lip. “Really?”

Snickering at your shocked face, Angus tilts his head to the side, examining your injuries again. “Yup. I think you were right about it being shallow. I’m no med student, but I don’t think it’s at risk of developing any kind of infection.

Melting back into the chair, your face is overtaken by a relaxed smile, in spite of yourself. A few seconds pass before curiosity overtakes you and you peer over your shoulder to ogle at his activity. You’re met with the completely ridiculous sight of him attempting to maneuver a bandaid into a jar of petroleum jelly. “Jesus, Angus!”

He can’t help himself from laughing at your reaction. “What? You didn’t have any ointment!”

“You said my lip’s fine!” you respond. “Unless you were trying to soften the blow of my oncoming sepsis by lying to me.”

He shakes his head emphatically. “No. I just wanted to see if I could make it hurt less for you.”

“It doesn’t,” you insist, waving him off.

“Really?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest in judgment, once again harkening back to something an authority figure in your life would do. “Then why were you tugging at my shirt like a damn seven-year-old at a grocery store?”

You scowl at him, face overtaken by a shade of red that only appears when you’re trying not to laugh at him. “I hate you.”

Angus laughs a sharp ha!, face wrinkled up in a simper as he pulls himself back up to your level, an ice pack in either hand. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t have kept me around for so long if you did.” He drops the ice packs in your lap and points at your cheek. “I can’t believe you were insisting on letting these wounds take care of themselves, dude. Your cheek’s swollen as hell.”

“How bad is it?” you curiously ask, brows quirked in thought.

“Well, the verdict’s already in that you’ll survive this,” he quips, earning a laugh from you. “So that’s out of the question, but if I didn’t already know you, I’d assume you either victoriously won or pitifully lost a professional boxing match.”

You playfully smack at his shoulder as he breaks into a laughing fit. “It was a compliment!” he defensively mutters, picking up one of the ice packs. “The thing’s a bona fide war wound, I swear. You look badass.”

“You should see the other guy,” you remark, watching him intently as Angus brings a hand up to your face, softly touching the ice pack to your bruise. “Also, I can’t believe you would call me badass. You must be buttering me up for the next time you have a bone to pick with Teddy.”

“Nah,” he denies, raising the pack slightly further up. “You’ve always been badass, ever since we were old enough to speak our minds. It’s a mindset in my eyes, since you never really looked like I imagined one being.”

Your face instantly softens as you gaze at him, studying the way he intently deals with something as uneventful as a bruised cheek. “You’re just being nice because I look like hell.”

Angus pulls his attention away from the ice pack to meet your lingering eyes. “I’m as serious as a car crash. You’ve always had this self-assured attitude, no matter who you were dealing with. The way that I don’t back down from a physical fight is exactly how you are in verbal sparring matches, but you’re, just, so much cooler in terms of that, ‘cause you refuse to relent on your beliefs. I could never be so firm when I speak to people, even if I try my very fuckin’ darndest.”

“I-I had-” you stammer heavily, effectively caught off-guard by his words. “No idea you thought so highly of me. That’s so incredibly sweet.”

“Well, you deserve to hear it,” he says, taking the ice pack off of your face. “You’ve been such a constant in my life, and I seriously don’t know who or where I would be without you. Hell, you even BEGGED your parents to let you transfer to every single school I ended up in post-expellings! I can’t help but idolize you. You were born with an insatiable fighting spirit. Nothing and nobody can get to you.”

Before you can form a single coherent thought, you blurt out four words you would never even dream of saying to Angus Tully. “Can I kiss you?”

Silence falls over the two of you like a curtain as Angus gazes up at you, eyes full of wonder, mouth hanging open. Before long, his lips turn upward in one of his signature smiles. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Lifting his hands up, he gingerly cups your cheeks with his hands and dives in, pressing your lips together in a delicate embrace. You close your eyes on impact, heart lighting up with an intensity you are not sure you have ever felt. Holy shit! Kountze must have killed you! This has to be heaven! The moments pass fleetingly before Angus finally pulls away, a genuine, natural, adorable little grin on his face as he sheepishly doesn’t face you, cheeks burning a soft, passionate pink. You must have been an idiot for never making a move all these years, but at least you finally got struck with the urge to do so.

“Y- your c-ch-” and now, like poetic justice, he is the one who’s been bitten by the stutter bug. “Your cheek looks better already. How about we get some ibuprofen in you and then we – okay, you have to step in if I embarrass myself here – step off of campus to go get some dinner?”

You’re smirking now, trying not to giggle at the unseen shy side he keeps so carefully locked away. “Angus Tully, are you asking me on a date?” He tries his very best not to avoid eye contact with you again as he nervously nods in confirmation. You reach out for his hand, interlocking your fingers together like puzzle pieces. “Well, then. I’d have to say what I’m sure you’ve been waiting to hear come out of my mouth all these years – yes.”

[melishade]

I'm curious as hell, but giving how dirty they made CliffJumper died in the very first episode of Transformers Prime i wonder after he died he somehow ends up in the aot world just before Optimus or Megatron appeared i wonder the reaction on either side on how the frag he's still alive and how he will be on aot would be similar to elita-1 situation or Hanji, Levi and Erwin found him just like they found out about Megatron just camping out alone.

Well....Episode 1 Cliffjumper was voiced by Dwayne the Rock. The shows not going to be able to afford him to keep him alive. Why do you think they swapped him with a different voice actor in Season 2 Episode 17.

That being said, I feel like I've answered something like this before, not really coming up with any ideas. That might have been a few months or a year or so ago. But I now, surprisingly, have a few ideas on how I could make this work.

So the beginning of episode 1, Cliffjumper gets ambushed by the Decepticons and gets caught up in the explosion. But his injuries this time around, are not as severe as they are in the show. So Cliffjumper is able to play victim long enough for Cliffjumper to get the jump on Starscream and the two vehicons before escaping. He jumps into an escape pod and tries to head back for Earth from space. However, Soundwave opens up the spacebridge and Starscream fires on the pod personally, sending it spiraling through the spacebridge. So Arcee still finds Cliffjumper's horn and Ratchet sees Cliffjumper signal going offline, not knowing he went through a spacebridge. And Starscream can still have bragging rights over killing Cliffjumper.

Yes, I know that the Nemesis wasn't even close to the ship when Cliffjumper was killed but I'm ignoring geographical locations to make this work.

There would be changes no doubt to the TFP timeline, but not enough to affect the integrity of the story as a whole. The Autobots still find out about the dark energon and Megatron's plan, Arcee still feels guilt regarding Cliffjumper, Starscream takes credit for killing him.

Meanwhile, the spacebridge sends Cliffjumper crashlanding on Paradis, specifically near the location of the Survey Corps' military base, scaring everyone and putting them on high alert. They all surround the pod, wondering what it is, and grow terrified when Cliffjumper punches his way out of the pod because it refuses to open from damage.

Erwin can't really give an order because he doesn't know what he's supposed to do. A metal titan just kicked it's way out of a metal ball that fell from the sky. The metal titan looks at all of them with its blue bloodied face and broken horn. Erwin can tell that the titan looks bewildered at the sight of them before its eyes flicker and its body begins to sway. Everyone's mouth drops when they hear the titan speak a word: Scrap, before falling out of the pod and hitting the ground face first.

Everyone is shouting in agreement that they need to kill Cliffjumper, but Hanji quickly interjects, saying that the titan needs to be captured and studied. The titan spoke. It's made of metal. And it's not regenerating. They needed to investigate this further to figure out of there were more like him.

Everyone is protesting, saying no, but Erwin decides to take a gamble and orders Cliffjumper to be transported back to the base. The only way they can really do that is by tying ropes onto Cliffjumper and using the horses to drag him, and have other humans drag him via ropes.

Hanji, with help from Mobilt, make a huge effort to repair Cliffjumper as best as they could. They didn't know anything about his biology and had to make it up as they went. They cleaned his wounds with Levi's help, they used heat to graft the metal and cover the wounds to stop the leaking. They took out shrapnel and other forms of debris that wasn't nailed down to his body or causing damage to his body. It takes hours to fix Cliffjumper and even when they finish, he doesn't wake up. Some are telling Erwin to just kill the titan and be done with it, but Erwin isn't sure how to kill it. Cliffjumper was different from all the others, and it was possible he had intelligence. He needed to be awake for questioning.

Cliffjumper wakes up days later, examining the rather poor treatment he received. He was grateful to be alive, but Ratchet was never this sloppy. Cliffjumper stands up an tries to leave the storage unit to find out where he was, but stops when Hanji and Mobilt enter the room. The two stare at each other for a brief moment before Hanji screams for Erwin, saying that the titan was awake. Cliffjumper can't help but feel embarrassed. He broke Prime's rules about interacting with humans. He didn't mean to! He was trying to escape the Decepticons! He activates his comm. to try and get to the Autobots, to Arcee, but...it was static. There was no one on the other end of the line.

That's when Cliffjumper started to notice a few things. He's lived on Earth for three years and has seen how the humans act. These humans wore different clothes, the place he was in was made out of wood, and finally, all the humans that flooded into the room stared at him in fear.

Erwin demands to know if Cliffjumper can speak. Cliffjumper debates his options for a moment before replying, saying that he could talk, startling everyone. Erwin then demands to know if he's associated with the titans outside the Wall. Cliffjumper gets confused and states he's with the Autobots. Those are the only titans he knows about. And what wall? The Great Wall of China? Levi crassly demands to know what China is and that gets a nervous laugh out of Cliffjumper.

Cliffjumper: Wait...are you guys serious?

Levi: Does it look like we're kidding?

Cliffjumper: Well what continent am I on? Asia? Europe?

Hanji: Oh! What's a continent?!

Cliffjumper then remembers what happened and demands to know where the pod that he came in was. Erwin decides to guide Cliffjumper to it with heavy supervision. Cliffjumper bolts to it once he spots it and scrambles in the cramped space. He tries in vain to turn on the machine. He tries to determine where he landed, could he send an S.O.S., did Optimus and the others know he was alive? What about Arcee?! He couldn't put her through the thought of losing another partner!

Hanji peers inside and asks Cliffjumper if the pod still works. Cliffjumper scrambles out and demands to know if they had reception! If they had a phone or a comm. link system! Any form of communication! But their all confused at what Cliffjumper is talking about. Cliffjumper realizes one horrible thing: he got stranded on another world trying to escape, and now he had no means of getting back to Earth and was now stuck.

The Survey Corps see Cliffjumper's panic and despair and feel empathy for the titan, taking a good portion of them off guard. Empathy for a titan? But Erwin was seeing more than a titan. He was seeing a soldier trying his hardest to get back home. Erwin uses the moment to strike up an alliance with Cliffjumper. If Cliffjumper could help humanity thrive on this world, then the Survey Corps would do everything in their power to get him back to his. Cliffjumper, out of options and desperate, accepts the deal, wanting to go back home to help his comrades. To Arcee.

A few notes:

-Cliffjumper doesn't have his horn. Arcee is the one who has it.

-Cliffjumper does his best to get acquainted with the Survey Corps. And a good portion of them don't really like how much he tends to talk. Cliffjumper will talk. A lot. To start conversation. To tell stories. Levi is getting really annoyed and wishes he would shut up.

-Hanji is ecstatic. They're learning about a new titan with different abilities and skill sets. They've asked Erwin if they could take him out into Wall Maria to see what he could do against the titans, especially since Cliffjumper mentioned that he's a veteran. He should know how to fight. But Erwin states that they need a little more time to observe his actions and behaviors. Not to mention, he's no to keen about revealing to the public that they have a titan under their noses.

-Cliffjumper tells stories about Earth, about the Autobots, about his partner Arcee. It does fill him with some sorrow, knowing he can't go back now, but he was still going to try.

-Cliffjumper will ultimately prove himself on the battlefield. Erwin just needs the right moment to reveal Cliffjumper's identity.

-Levi tries his best to clean him up once he trust's Cliffjumper enough, but is upset when nothing's working.

That's all I have for now.

[the-kr8tor]

Ship to Wreck pt. 2

Beyond the Sea of Night Masterlist

Chapter 5 pt.2 >>> Chapter 6

The second the dock reaches your line of sight, the huge crowd gathering around it, or more specifically, around the Osprey, has you taken aback by the sheer number of pirates. It's as if most of the island’s inhabitants decided to use the ship as a town hall. They talk above each other, the sound could rival the marketplace’s usual loudness. The crew stands at the deck, trying to yell at them to step away from the gangway. Or that's what you make of their screaming when the other pirates’ rambunctious and excited voices ring around the whole island.

“I thought you said that you found new pirates, not a whole town.” You pause by the entrance to the docks, holding Hobie’s hand as he looks around the sea of faces.

“No, I said I found possible prospects. We still have to skim through them.” You look at the crowd with a bewildered face. “Good news is that we have a lot of options!”

“Hobie!” You whip your head towards him, tugging at his hand gently.

“Don't look at me like that!” He feigns offense, “I didn't lie, your snoggin’ got the ropes crossed in my head.”

Sighing, you accept the situation at hand. “There's too many people here, how'd you even manage that?”

“I told everyone at Riri's tavern, and I guess they told other people, and then they must've relayed them to more people.” He winces, head tilting back slightly. “I should’ve thought this through.”

“Maybe, it'll take us days to sift through them.”

The sudden loud clap of his hands has you almost jumping in your skin. It was so loud that it echoed around the whole dock, making people pause in place and stare at the source, and you know it hurt his palm.

“Right!” Hobie climbs atop a sturdy crate, addressing everyone gathering at the docks. He lifts an arm in front of him as if he's marking an imaginary line, his eyes following right where he points. “Every wanker who's on my right gets to stay!”

“Your right or our right?” One says somewhere in the crowd.

“Whoever said that is out!” The captain shakes his head in bewilderment. “I jus’ said my right!”

A round of disappointed groans and a few grumbling, half of the crowd shuffles out of the docks. Some even glare at Hobie, mumbling something under their breath as Hobie ignores them. One even shoulder checks you, and you had to stop Hobie from taking a swing at him, lest a huge fight that's even bigger and more dangerous than the one with Thorpe’s men will break loose. You know the old dock would not be able to handle that strain. Just thinking about that disaster has you taking his fist and tugging him back to the task at hand.

“That's still too many, Hobie.” Gwen suddenly appears to your side, and you almost yelp.

“Fucking hell, Gwen!” You exclaim, hand placed right on your thumping heart while Hobie snickers. “Where'd you come from?”

“Up your ass.” She says casually, eyes trained on the potential crew members. “Weed out the ones that only have less than a year out at sea.”

“I was jus' ‘bout to, Gwendy.” Hobie flicks away his coat and places his hands on his hips. “If you've only been sailing for less than a year, fuck off!”

A few complaints here and there, and the crowd is cut in half once again.

“Wait!” Hobie stops them, and they look on with hope. “Are any of you surgeons?”

Their hopes are dashed away when they shake their heads. You even saw a handful of them contemplating whether to lie or not. But given the position, they'd rather not.

“I am!” A man with brown shining eyes and a scarf around his head raises his hand from the sidelines. You saw a glimpse of him from the earlier group that Hobie told to leave initially. “I'm a surgeon!”

“You have your credentials?” Hobie eyes the man up and down.

“Yes!” The man fumbles while he tries to take out his papers from a leather case. A few of his belongings fall from the bag, scattering it across the dock as he struggles to get all of them. You help him gather the ones near you, and he nods at you gratefully.

“I'll check it later, go up the deck, mate. My ship doctor ‘ere will assess your skills.” Hobie glances at you with a knowing smile.

You mouth a ‘thank you’ to your captain. And he sends a subtle wink your way. You never voiced your complaint bluntly about being the only one who could tend to the sick and injured of his crew, and it fills you with glee that he saw your struggles and thought to help you out even when you didn't tell him.

The surgeon practically skips away towards the gangway and up the deck, where the rest of the crew watches on with amusement. The way Hobie is doing this is entertaining you suppose, even if it's an unorthodox way of doing it.

“Right, line up, the lot of you!” Hopping off the crate, he eyes them down. “Let's do this quick, tell me how long you've been sailing for and your specialty!” He heads off towards them, strutting down the dock, surprisingly, the pirates do as they're told. They really need the job, you guess. It's either that or Hobie's reputation precedes him more than you thought.

“Should you help?” You ask Gwen beside you.

“I'm watching from here, don't worry. He'll call me when I'm needed.”

Nodding, you rummage through your bag to finally hand her the gifts you got for her. You feel her eyes on you, and you look back, staring at her in the corner of your eyes.

“I've got something for you.”

“And here I thought you forgot about me, landlubber.” She says, slyly smiling as she looks at you in the corner of her blue eyes.

“Nope, you just kept slipping past me, Gwendy.” Grabbing the pair of ballet shoes, you hand it to her as it dangles from your hand.

She blinks at the silky material, breath hitching in her throat. “What— what's this?”

“You told me that you had to sell your old ballet shoes, so I figured that I'd get you one.” You say unsurely when she still doesn't take it from you. “If it's in poor taste—”

Gwen clears her throat, taking the dainty shoes in her hands gingerly like it's still brandnew. “No, no it’s not.” Her gentle blue eyes shine in the light as she chuckles. “It looks like my old one, it's just missing my initials that my mom stitched on the ribbons.” Her thumb runs along the seam of the shoes. “Thank you, Y/N, this… this is nice.” She weighs it in her hands, smiling at you through tearful heavy lashes.

Sighing, you smile back at her, hand clasping her arm. “That's good then,” her unshed tears aren't missed by you, but you don't mention it as she ties the pair around her belt right next to her cutlass. “I have a backup gift just in case you didn't like it.”

“Why would I not like it? It's from you, doc.” Her tone grows softer, almost choking on a silent sob.

“I'm not much of a gift giver, it's my first time actually, so I tried my best.”

“Well, you're good at it.” Nudging you, she grins while you hear Hobie barking out questions in the background. “Have you seen Yuri and Lyla's reaction when you got them those earrings? They almost cried.”

“James’ reaction was a good one too. He ran out to tell Miles and Pav all about his new belt.” You chuckle, half hugging her. You can tell that she's still paying attention to the scene on the docks, but you have her heart in that small moment. “I got you a pair of shears too, if you want I could help you with your hair?”

Her cheek presses atop your shoulder, eyes briefly closing before leaning away. “Really? Please, my hair's been bothering me.” To make her point across, she blows at a strand of overgrown hair away from her eyes.

“Alright, just don't yell at me if I fuck up.”

“I've seen you with sharp shit before, I think you'll be fine.” She pats your back before fully facing towards the men and women at the docks. “You should give Pav his present, I think he's starting to get jealous and mopey that he doesn't have his yet.”

Snorting, you nod. Flicking your eyes back at the deck, you see Pavitr looking solemnly below. “I definitely will.” You catch his eyes, and he waves sadly at you. You wave back, grinning at him to placate him before you decide to join him back on the ship. “Before that, thank you for helping my cousins. You were very patient with them.”

“I just treated them the same way we do to newcomers.” Shrugging, she glances at the twins resting on the steps leading up to the helm.

The pair looks like they're sharing a sandwich between each other while they look on in the sidelines. They're still not acclimated to the crew's presence, but in time you know they would befriend them in no time just like they had with you back at the estate.

“And thank you for actually going to the doctors.”

“What's up with the thank yous today, landlubber?” She chortles, eyes narrowed in your direction suspiciously.

“Nothing, why, is it not up to the pirate’s code to show appreciation?” The blond rolls her eyes at your sarcastic remark. “I'm just glad you're not pregnant or something.” You joke, chortling to yourself.

She scoffs, hands casually inside her pockets. "Don't worry about me, worry about yourself.”

“What does that mean?” Your head whips towards her, brow raised questioningly with a nervous smile.

“You know what I mean, landlubber, you're in more danger to that…parasite than I am.” She roams her eyes over to you with a knowing glance. Before you could retort back at her, she's called by Hobie. To add salt to your offended wound, she snickers while shaking her head at you disappointedly. “You're not allowed on the bowsprit with Hobie anymore by the way.”

You stand there, mouth agape and feigning anger. “What?! Why?”

“You know why! You two are a hazard!” As she joins Hobie, he looks at the two of you with a confused look. To which you just shrug with a smile, a reassurance that you and Gwen are just playing along.

As you watch them evaluate more pirates and now that you’re alone, you feel the slithering gnawing blight eating at the pit of your stomach. The same thorn prickling in your throat. An awful feeling that you can't just wave away with a shake of your head. It's as if all the good will be snuffed out by something horrible. It's an irrational fear and you know that it is, but the feeling still won't fade away with just knowing that it's nothing but an irrational thought. So as you move forward to the gangway, intending to fill that darkened sickening feeling, you spot the old man in the same place where you first saw him. This time, he attempts contact by waving at you before regretting his decision right away and scrambling back into a dark alleyway.

“Love!” Hobie’s call has your attention taken away from the mysterious pirate. “What do you think about my pick so far?” He gestures around a group of thirty pirates or so with his arms spread wide.

They all look like proper pirates, tough and rough around the edges. They hail from different walks of life, different ages, different builds, different ethnicities, but there's one similarity— and that's the fact that they're all packing firepower. Guns in all shapes and sizes, long barrels and shorter ones, even ones with two or more barrels. Some are intricate, the others look like any other musket or blunderbuss in the market or perhaps taken from an unfortunate soul. A few carry cutlasses, axes, and even a couple with whips and weapons that you don't even know the name of. They clearly brought it to show that they're capable of wielding it in battle.

You don't have to tell Hobie and Gwen that it takes more than brute strength to get into the notorious bloodsail pirates. They have to be cunning too, and most days it's just smooth sailing on the open sea so they have to be an expert when it comes to just being that— sailors. All their guns and blades won't save the ship when a hurricane threatens to sink it.

Within the group, a few others catch your eyes. One has a parrot perched over his shoulder, and you're more intrigued by the colourful bird than its owner. There are a few women within the ranks, a couple with chopped short hair, and three with a menacing look in their eyes that could bring the waves itself to a halt. You have no qualms or opinions about your captain's choices when you trust his and the quartermaster's judgement. They have more experience with this than you do anyway.

“They're good, I think.” You look at Hobie apologetically whilst you're stopped in the middle of the creaking gangway. “As long as they won't kill us in our sleep.” That earned a few chuckles from the chosen group. “I trust your judgement, captain. Don't forget to hire a good cook.”

“I won't, can't have you makin’ our hardtack with extra hardness anymore.” Hobie cracks a smile at that. His eyes wordlessly speak to you, grey softening as he resists the urge to climb up the gangway to hold your hand. He can't show weakness towards this new crew, lest they think about starting a mutiny against him. So for now, he acts like a captain should towards his crew mate. “Go and interrogate your surgeon.”

On any other day, you'd tease him by asking him to say please. But for today, you just nod, eyes glinting with promised playfulness for later as you walk up the gangway.

“Right! We need a hundred and fifty more!” Hobie yells, and the crowd grows impatient, screaming above each other as they yell out their credentials.

You're glad that it's not your job, especially that you know that it'll take Hobie and Gwen the rest of the day to find the needed crew. Or even a couple of days to find reliable ones. They could just find half of them for now, but with all the preparations expedited by Thorpe himself, the bloodsails need the extra hands. Just like Clayton said, Thorpe's patience isn't the size of the sea. You still don't like the fact that he has his ravens— his daughters keep watch on the progress.

The faster the ship gets to sailing, the quicker you get to the Immortal and to freedom and sailing wherever you please with your family. Those words seem to repeat in your head over the past few days.

The twins immediately spot you from the stairs. They look a lot better than when you found them. A healthy colour returning to their sickly and dried skin, stomachs full with food and water. They may not look like how you met them before with their finer clothing and shining jewels, but they look fine— taken care of. Slowly the light in their eyes are returning back to their luster, and they seem to smile more as they greet you.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Yuri greets you from the bannister, hand gently caressing Lyla's hair. She’s sitting on the polished deck, while Lyla rests her head on the ravenette’s lap, glasses askew as she fights off sleep. “Supper’s in the galley if you want some.”

“Thanks, Yuri.” You sigh, shoulders falling limp the moment you step right into home. “Please tell me it's not hardtack.”

“Nope, your cousins helped, it’s fried fish with some fancy sauce your girl made.” She tucks Lyla's hair behind her ear, showing off the shell earring you gave to her that matches Yuri's. “It was really good together. I still can't believe aristocrats know how to work a stove.”

“Her name's Collette, and the other one is Jonathan.” You correct her with a small smile. “Thanks for letting them help.”

“No problem, they're actually really polite. Nicer than this bitch anyway." Poking Lyla's cheek, she doesn't reply back with a biting quip to match Yuri's since she's already fast asleep.

There's a fond smile on her face, dark eyes turning soft as she gazes at Lyla. Her expression reminds you of how you look at Hobie, how you look at him with such great love that you start to think that this is how your parents loved each other— gazed at each other as if this is the greatest thing that they'll ever experience in life. And it is, you know that it is whenever you glance his way.

Intending to tease Yuri, you decide to let her go this time. You'll get your payback one day for all the teasing remarks thrown at you and Hobie whenever the two of you are being smitten to each other. But not today as Yuri cradles Lyla gently, a hand caressing her back mindlessly as she lets her sleep.

With a knowing look, you let them be. The doctor stands awkwardly in the sidelines, shuffling his feet by the gangway like he's too afraid to go further into the ship. You realize that you've almost forgotten about checking his credentials.

“Hi—” you start, barely even stepping close before he almost fell over the gangway if not for your hand grabbing his bag and tugging him back. “Shit, you alright?” Pulling him back on steady feet, or as steady as his nervous wobbling could be, he swallows thickly, hand scratching at his beard whilst you let go of his medicine bag.

“I–I'm fine, sorry.” He winces, eyes roaming around the ship rather than to your face. “Just a bit nervous is a–all.” His accent runs thick, tone staggering over his own words.

“Don't be, they might look menacing but if you're good to the crew they're good to you, doctor…?”

“Oh!” Dark brown eyes widen at your question, hand immediately reaching for a greeting which you shake briefly. “Doctor Aarav. I have my papers with me—!” He almost falls backwards again, but you're quicker this time, pulling him away from the ledge and into a safer area of the ship. You make a mental note to have him stay below deck during the inevitable flighting. “I am sorry, again.”

“It's fine, let's move farther away from the gangway shall we?” Leading him towards the stairs, you sit him down now that you know he's a hazard on his feet. “Is this your first time being a ship doctor?”

“N–No.” He utters while rummaging through his belongings. “I–I mean yes, I've been a doctor for three years, but n–never a ship doctor.”

The twins watch on with curious eyes further above the stairs, and you smile back, wordlessly telling them to stay before they could move away to give you two privacy.

“Do you know anything about surgery? How to treat scurvy? The plague? Bullet wounds?”

“Yes. To– to all of them.” He manages a small smile, handing you pieces of paperwork that's neater than any of your medical pamphlets combined. It's his medical diploma, citing that he graduated right in the capital. The stack also has his identification papers, a few others in a different language you can't read but judging by the looks of it they look official. “My specialty is wound care mostly, a–and I have experienced treating plague patients back during the outbreak.”

“You graduated from the top medical school in the capital but you're here. Why?” Eyes narrowing suspiciously at him, he shivers from your gaze like a drenched cat. Possible traitors in your midst have always been in the back of your mind, especially after what happened to the bloodsail pirates and to Hobie three years ago.

“Simply.” Clearing his throat, he straightens his back, hand atop the other to stop his trembling. “Simply because no one would hire me. And no one wanted to be tended by me. Being a ship doctor is my only option, I heard pirates aren't picky as long as you do the job. I've got no choice, I don't want to go home like this.” A failure, you know that expression all too well. “The people back in the main island drove me out, simply because…” he gestures around his form. “I don't look like a doctor. Or a surgeon for that matter.” He chuckles bitterly.

You nod at that, understanding what he truly meant. Your mother always told you about all the times she was rejected at those schools, raved about the horrible system of only choosing students who came from legacy, or the ones who look like they could be good for their image. If she didn't change her manner of study to being a midwife, and snuck into other classes, she wouldn't be as good as she is at her job, and in turn teaching you everything she managed to learn. During your travels, you've heard that the schools got more lenient with their enrollees, but not as much as back during Jessica's time.

Sometimes in the dark, with Hobie's soft snores wafting over your cheek, you wonder if you would've gotten into one of those schools just from merit alone.

“And yet you managed to get in.” You say, eyes staring right into his own. He struggles to meet with yours, but he fights the urge to look away as if his life depended on it. “That means you're good then.”

“Top of my class.” Aarav says with pride.

Lips curling into a smile, you hand him his papers back. “You know what this entails don't you? This job, you have to be one of us. Not just our surgeon.”

“I do.” He says without missing a beat.

“Welcome to the crew, Doctor Aarav, come back here before we set sail. If you need to do something else, now's the time to do it.”

“I'm in?” He asks, bewildered.

“‘course, honestly you've got better credentials than I do. I didn't formally study for this.”

“Not everyone is fortunate enough. I've known other doctors that are even better than the ones who formally studied for it.” Placing his papers back in his bag, he seems calmer now that you've hired him. “May I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Shoot?”

“Oh, a friend told me it means ‘go on.’”

“You're already their ship doctor, why do you need another one?” Fiddling with the clasp on his bag, he stands up, albeit slightly shaky.

“Do you see those people down there?” You gesture towards the crowd below the ship as he takes a peek over the bannister while being more careful. “Imagine that half of them are bleeding and wounded, or even all of them. Blood coating the deck, bullet wounds, severed arms and legs, I wouldn't be able to handle all of that on my own. Back then I could manage, but with a ship as big as this, it needs at least two hundred souls to sail it to where we're going.”

The doctor inhales deeply. “That’s daunting.”

“Still think you can manage? Granted I'll be learning quite a bit under Doctor Octavius while we're here, but you're technically my senior so, perhaps I'll follow your lead when we're in the thick of it.”

His eyes widen briefly, but after a beat, he nods. “I'll manage, I'll do my best, doctor.”

A wide grin spreads on your face. “Another doctor called me a doctor today, I like it.” The comment itself was more for yourself than for him.

Aarav smiles back, too nervous to say anything back or not finding the right words to reply with as he timidly side steps back to the gangway and awkwardly leaves.

Hobie notices him leave, and he turns his head up towards you. He does a thumbs up and then a thumbs down, asking about your decision. With a thumbs up, you let him know as he nods curtly at you.

You wink back cheekily and subtly, he steps over his own coat, before slyly leaning against Gwen as if nothing happened. You almost let out a guffaw from that.

“I think he's afraid of you, cousin.” Collette walks down the steps in a gliding manner as if she's still wearing a heavy gown. Her brother follows closely behind, picking at a dried up tar on the back of his hand.

“Hobie? No, he's not afraid of me.”

“I was talking about the wobbly doctor.” Smiling, she joins you on the bannister while the three of you watch the organized chaos below.

“I think he's just afraid of pirates in general.” You look at her in the corner of your eyes.

“Well he should be,” she adds, “afraid of you, that is.”

“Are you afraid of me, Collette?” You ask, trying not to sound too unhappy about her words. That's the last thing you want, to make them fear you.

“I've…heard about what happened in the church at the plaza through Yuri.” Nervously playing with a ribbon tied around her wrist, she inhales. “I'm not afraid of you cousin, No, to them you're the bloody duchess, to us you're just ‘cousin.’ The same one who walked into the estate with trepidation and sadness. No matter how bloody you get, that's still you.”

“And we don't intend to offend you! If that's what you're thinking.” John chimes in, eyes more focused on Hobie. “Collette’s right, we're not afraid of you, that's one of the reasons why we're here. We see you as you are.”

“Or maybe that's not me anymore. That cousin you first met may not be here anymore.” Your nails dig into the wooden bannister, creaking under your strained touch. “I can't promise to you that you won't starve or die when we're out there.”

“We also know that… with what we gathered, no person would be the same after what you had to do.” John continues to pick at the dry spot on the back of his hand. “You're capable of good even after what happened to you.” He glances at his sister briefly. “Some people may fear you and Hobie, but that fear might keep me and my sister safe. We know what revolutions entail, our blood defines us back home, and it could get our heads cut off too. Mother and father knew that. But the people don't fear them.”

“You're the beginning of a ghost story back home, did you know that?”

“What?” You almost flinch away.

“Before we left, you and the bloodsail pirates were what everyone else talked about. Especially you, a noble wearing a bloody wedding dress, who decided to save a pirate right in front of everyone.” Collette's eyes shine. “You defied…everything.”

For a minute, you let their words wrap around your mind. They sound like fanatics when you don't even deserve such a thing. Maybe that's why they're truly here, or perhaps they are telling the truth about their parents and the queen's summon, that they don't have any other choice but you. You'd rather not ask them anymore when it would take you to dredge up the past once more. All you know is that they need your help.

‘A ghost story,’ you almost scoffed at that. You were just trying to save the love of your life, nothing else mattered, even if you died with him right there and then. The cousin and the person who struck the queen—That same person in the church all those months ago is still you, blood and all. But you won't let that singular moment defy your whole self nor your life. It is still you, but you're more than the bloodied wedding dress and the sinking dagger. Just like how Hobie isn't whatever ship he sails or his crew. The two of you aren't twin blades meant to cause wounds, sheathed or unsheathed, you're more than that, he's more than that. You're just someone trying to live beside him. And he's just someone trying to live fully with you.

Like the twins, they're just trying to stay alive. Taking their chances with you just like how you did with Hobie and the crew months ago. You were in their shoes back then, the desperation and the fear, you know it too well, and you see it in their young faces.

“I don't know about all of that, or care about any of it.” You say through clenched teeth. “Just this,” looking around the ship, you gesture towards your family and crew. “Nothing but this.” Grasping their arms, you let your words get to them. “I don't want to kick you out, or leave you two all alone here. That’s why I'll try to protect the two of you, but I can't promise you safety.”

You gently take John's hand, stopping him from picking relentlessly at the dried up tar lest it takes his skin with it. Instead, you take a fragrant oil from your bag, drenching his hand and letting it set. “Not with the situation at hand. So tell me, one last chance, decide what you want to do. Do you wish to stay with me? Our journey won't be easy, you won't be my only priority, but I can't help but worry about you two all the time.”

“We’ll try not to be a burden to you, cousin.” Collette holds your hand that's atop Jonathan's as he nods at his sister's words. “We don't want to be alone out there. It's better to be with family. Alis volat propriis. We must fly, just like you have.”

Nodding, you weigh all the possibilities in your mind. All the outcomes of various decisions, everything from leaving them on the island to sending them back home. Out of sight and out of mind, but with them away from you, your worries could worsen. Someone like Mickey could get their hands on them, a disgusting pirate with ill intentions towards them. It's better for them to be with you, to be with people you know that will watch out for them just like you would. Even if it means dragging them halfway across the world towards uncertain fates.

It's their decision, and they made that abundantly clear from the start.

“I've got conditions.” You say, eyeing the peeling tar on John's skin as you gently scrape it off painlessly. They look at you with anticipation. “One, you learn how to defend yourselves, two, only call me cousin when we're alone or when we're with the original crew to protect your identities. Third, you do as I say during battles, no exceptions especially when we're really in it. If I say run, you run. If I want you to hide, you hide. Understood?”

“We understand.” They simultaneously say.

“And fourth, write to your parents—” they begin to voice their protests and you let them air their grievances out for a minute until they run out of air. “You don't have to tell them where you are or who you're with, just two words are fine.” Meeting with their eyes, you silently plead. “Just tell them that you're alright. That's all.”

“They won't care.” Collette utters in a smaller tone. “Even if they receive the letter, they won't care.”

“Or they might.” Your simple words strike them in their heart. “Just one letter, that's all I ask from the both of you.”

The twins gaze at each other with mirrored furrowed brows. For a second, you thought they'd object again, but they nod, accepting your terms.

“Thank you,” Collette grasps your elbow, squeezing once while John still struggles to wrap his mind around the proposed letter to their parents. They both look conflicted, as if you threw a hammer and shattered their plans. “We'll do all that and more, cousin.”

“Good,” they begin to walk away as you sigh, trying to rid of all the complicated thoughts in your mind. You just hope that you won't regret letting them stay, you truly care for them. But for better or worse, you're stuck with them. “Wait, I almost forgot.” They pause in place and you toss them the pile of clothes you've brought for them. They fumble to catch it, but their frowns are replaced with a grin as they see what's in their arms. “It's not much but—!” Collette collides with you, hugging you tightly.

“Thank you.” She says against your shoulder, and John gazes at the two of you softly, unshed tears in his eyes as he says the same two words to you.

Pulling away, your steely gaze roots them in place. “I'm not a ghost story, remember that.”

They could only nod, leaving you by the helm as they clutch onto their new clothes.

You catch Pav walking by, or more like stomping away towards the lower deck. Gwen's right, he's all mopey. “Hey, Pav!” Quickly running to him, you grab the remaining presents intended for him, skidding in front of him, and placing them right in his palms. “Don't think that I've forgotten about you.”

He eyes the fragrant tea bricks and the jar of fresh coconut oil. “I thought you did…” his lips wobble, and you pat his head for extra reassurance.

“You? Never.” Smiling, he swats your hand away while his eyes look over the roofs nearby. “What? Too embarrassed now for head pats because of your crush?”

“What—N–no! I just don't want you messing my hair up!” He makes a face, as if he's holding his embarrassment back with a faux confident and nonchalant look.

“Of course, Pavitr, of course.” Grinning, you watch as he huffs away with amusement. If only Hobie was with you, he'd tease him some more but you can't bear to rag on kindhearted Pavitr.

Before he could get far, Pav turns towards you, eyes shining with happiness. “Thank you!” He then continues to stomp away below deck. Maybe he thinks that Gayatri is hiding on one of the roofs.

“You're welcome, kid.” Inhaling, your ankle pinches again, add that with your growling stomach, you decide to head to the galley to get something to eat before burrowing into the covers. Hopefully Hobie will join you in the middle of all of that. But before you walk down the stairs leading below deck, you stop by Lyla and Yuri, who are still watching the selection below. All except for Lyla who's completely snoring on Yuri's lap.

“Yuri,” you whisper to her, and she looks up at you through tired eyes. “Don't tell stories about me to my cousins anymore.”

She blinks, brows knitted in confusion. “Alright…why?”

“I don't want them to get any…exceptional ideas about me.”

“Sure.” She nods, either understanding the weight of your explanation or she doesn't want to question your odd request anymore. Keeping your business all to yourself instead of bringing herself into it. That's Yuri, she has a few exceptions to that of course, usually it's to tease, but you can always count on her to speak her mind or in this case, keep it to herself.

“Thank you,” as you begin to walk away, she calls your name back and you look over your shoulder to address her.

Yuri inhales deeply through her nose and exhales through her mouth, a wordless instruction. Or perhaps an advice. “Yeah?”

Copying her previous action, you nod a thanks. “Yeah.”

“Carry on, doc, I'll watch over them.”

—

The second you enter the galley, the savoury smell greets you. But what you didn't expect is a large stone mortar and pestle that you've never seen before in the ship that's nestled in between the fried fish and the sauce Collette had made.

It's just you in the room, save for the clinking pans and food waiting for you, there's nothing but silence in the galley. Not a single soul to accompany you.

You slowly close in on the mortar and pestle, expecting some rice or even crushed herbs. Your hands and joints tense up when you find it empty save for a piece of paper.

The memories of your childhood replays through your mind as you free yourself from the heavy satchel. Breath stuck in your throat, a cold sweat running down your back, you can hear the shattering of the mortar and pestle as it lands near your feet. The ferns and dried grass brushing against your legs as you run as fast as you could. When you blink, you return to the solid mortar and pestle, and the slight rocking of the ship against the waters.

You're not there anymore. You're home now, no more running away.

With a staggered breath, your thumbs brush along the mouth of the rough instrument, you take the slip of paper inside that has your name and a small letter written on it.

“‘To our ship doctor, if all else fails, you can use this as a weapon. Love from the whole crew.’” Smiling, then chuckling, your laughing turns into silent sobs. The flood gates open and you can't help the tears from dropping down against the stone, leaving dark dots littered all around the grey.

You slide the heavy mortar and pestle into your arms, hugging it against your chest and slowly drop down on the floor, cradling it as you let everything out. The wooden dam in you breaks from all the cracks, water rushing out of you in waves after everything that has transpired. You can handle it when they're around you, helping you ground yourself to the present. But now that they're not, you collapse under it.

Maybe it's the suffocating feeling of grief or the drowning anxiety. You truly don't know which is which that has you sobbing on the floor, chest hurting and vision turning everything into watercoloured lights. You only know that it has its grip on you, gnawing at your skin and stomping right on your stomach.

This ship and everyone else on it, that's what matters now. Before you had nothing but the clothes on your back and the knowledge that you were fortunate enough to learn. You've got everything to lose now. You may not be built for this kind of life, but you're good at it. And your family's here, everything else will just have to wait for now.

You've chosen this life, so you'll walk through it with pride.

As you sit there, hands grasping the rough gift, you hear their voices through the wood, echoing muffled incoherent words but you know which voice belongs to who, and whose footsteps are walking above the deck. The sound calms you like how the sound of waves wash away the tensed muscles in your body. You're never truly alone, and you hope— wish that'll be the case in the unforeseen future.

When Hobie doesn't appear whilst his voice turns raspy outside the ship, still trying to find the right crew, you decide to read the letters from Jessica and Miguel.

In your shaky hands, instead of dread and despair written out in their hands like you thought it would be— it's hope and love. They ask for you, wishing that the letters would get to you in one piece especially that they just guessed your destination. They know you by heart.

Miguel is somewhere in the countryside, not writing why he's there, but he wished that you were right there with him. He even pressed a sprig of dried lavender into the letter, telling you that the smell might remind you of your mother when it was her favourite. Then he asks about you and your pirate, you can practically see how his eyes roll at his own question.

And your mother, Jessica, who risked life and limb to save you, said that she's happy and content with her husband and even a baby on the way. ‘A baby brother,’ she wrote, ‘you’ll be a big sister.’ Choking down on a happy sob, you press your lips on the paper, tears sliding down your cheeks with every word they've written.

With a lighter heart, you hope you could visit them someday. For now, you'll find the time to write back. And yet you feel that it's better to see them for yourself, you'll be lying if you said you don't miss them. Maybe you could say all the words you needed to say to them in person but never had the courage to during the last time you saw them.

If you live to see the day that is.

[zundely]

There is one thing I need to get off my chest regarding the solasmance in the DAV- granted I am not a Solasmamcer so I may not be the best source on that but still something that happened with it in DAV just bewilders me.

I will start by saying- I think making a PC of previous game into an NPC of the next installment is extremely tricky to pull off and may be often just... not worth it. Like at first when they did it with Hawke I found it fun idea but the more I sit with it the more it becomes something that is very cool in theory but sort of fall apart if you poke at it too hard. And with Hawke A LOT of things were working in it's favor- the 3 personality system was the perfect fit for being able to sort of tricky the audience into feeling it's not just any Hawke but your Hawke. The loads of choices imported through the Keep ment that game had the general vibe on your Hawke's opinions on things. Even so Hawke's comments on their partner are made as vague as possible because that's something where there is huge potential for "they would not fucking say that" type of situation. The one expection is Anders and they made like 3 choices about him in the Keep that all influence what Hawke has to say about him- and even with all that we still had a "they would not fucking say that" situation. Hawke was possibly one of the easier PC cameos to make, they had all that going for them and still with all that in some cases they end up feeling kind of OOC.

And now- with all that in mind. We come to the Inquisitor cameo. The Inquistior has pretty much none of what made the Hawke cameo ... doable? They don't have a 3 clear cut personality types, the game didn't carry over every single little choice made through Inquisition to get a general read on what the Inquisitor's deal is nor what was his relationship like with all of his companions. That makes escaping the OOC situation near damn impossible. The Inky would need to be an exposition dump/ side quest given or something and never talk with Rook about ANYONE or with anyone to not have to at least mention something about them that could potentially end up being wrong. But they do not do that and Inky inevetably ends up saying stuff about Solas (regardless if romanced or not) that for some people will feel incredibly OOC. Like the fact that regardless of anything they will refer to him as a past friend... this is just bad. It cheapens it for people who actually made an effort to befriend him in DAI and annoys everyone who made even more effort to punch him in the face.

And then. With that. They went on and decided to have make a Solavellan ending. Now I want to praface- I am not saying that this ending is bad and if you like it you are wrong. If you like it I am honestly And earnestly happy for you. I have no horse in this race, I just think this whole ordeal is something that defies the purpose of romance in RPG games a little bit.

So imagine with me for a moment- a world where DA2 ends right after the Chantry gets blown up. And then in Inquistion get to actually meet Anders and it's the Inky that will decide his fate after dealing with the mage rebellion thing. And you meet Hawke and they can be either like "I liked him, he betrayed me but I still think you should spare him" or "I liked him but he betrayed me, I think you should kill him". No rivalry, no Hawke potentially being on board with the whole thing, no complicated feelings. Anders was my friend/love, he did something bad and the only variation in opinion is if he deserves to die or no. And then Inky can decide to either kill him or spare him and if he spares him he and romanced Hawke get married on the spot and decide to spend the rest of their life on the run.

Now- would that satisfy some players? Maybe. Maybe even some Andersmancers would be on board with it. But this also ignores so much nuance the romance can have. And a lot of people like romances like that in games because they are messy and complicated and don't have to get a happy ending. And sure you can say that you can still not get the happy ending if the Inky just kill him- but it sure does feel a lot cheaper and less effective when it's them doing it then when it's Hawke themselves, doesn't it? Part of the fun with romances in RPGs is even if they feel diffrent and can play out diffrently defending on what your PC does. And having a whole damn payoff of a romance be in the game where your PC is scrubbed off everything that made them your PC and then basically lock you into one specific ending... well, that's just not fun.

So yeah this whole situation made me realize that... I think I am over PC cameos actually. I do not like them I do not think they ever achive much, I think we should go back to the letters and the funny situation in DA2 where almost everyone seems to talk about this Hero of Ferelden guy that Hawke has never met in their life.

[i-sveikata]

listening to the “do i wanna know” cover by hozier and it’s making me think of your petevegas SO bad im sad now

like god. “do i wanna know if this feeling goes both ways / sad to see you go, was kinda hoping that you’d stay / darling we both know that the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day / crawling back to you”

it reminds me so much of the push/pull dynamic between them and how they just can’t stay away from one another. they will always be drawn to each other from now on, their lives are too intrinsically linked (and they’re too in love lets be fr) to separate now.

LIKE? “busy being yours to fall for somebody new / now I’ve thought it through/ crawling back to you” is absolutely the vibe of the whole pete with the stranger in the bathroom scene. im soooo excited to read it and to have him finally realise the true extent of his feelings for Vegas

Oh noice I haven’t heard that cover but do I wanna know is SUCH a sexy song lmao.

Ooooh I love that yes their dynamic is very push and pull and lol literally I was having this thought about them whilst I was driving to work this morning but they literally have their hooks in each other!!!

And it’s funny because obvs from Pete’s side he’s bewildered by this because he was never trying to hook Vegas at all!! That was never his intention- there was no intention for that whatsoever. But meanwhile you have Vegas who fucked around with no intention beyond cruelty and then literally found out there are better things than that and now wants his hooks buried in Pete so deeply that others would be able to tell JUST by looking at him that he belongs with Vegas. For them first out it’s wildly about instinct and then it slowly shifts into intention where Vegas wants this to be everything and Pete just wants to explore this desire and stare into the dark place and follow it through without flinching or running away. They both got on the ride at different times but now neither of them have any plans of getting off!! Whether consciously or not.

Yes you’re so right they could absolutely not separate now without being wounded by it (in slightly different ways but wounded all the same)

Yesssss that moment is going to be very crucial for Pete finally making the subconscious conscious in a way that he’s been otherwise avoiding. Like that situation forces him to bring his feelings (beyond the physical) to the forefront of their relationship and finally acknowledge that it has a real place there- even though we all know he’s been subconsciously acting on those feelings for a long while now. That moment is Pete finally looking in the mirror and realising exactly what he doesn’t want (with the stranger) and by default why that means he only wants it with Vegas instead.

It’s a very big moment for Pete because even though he is more shy/ reserved that moment will make it impossible for him to deny his feelings in any believable way anymore. And we all know he’s had that escape hatch sitting there ready for a while now in case he ever needed to back out and deny everything and protect himself. But Pete finally taking that step means he’s locking the escape hatch so if he ever did want to end things he won’t be able to fall back on a ‘denial of feelings’ excuse. He’s really placing his faith in Vegas there and even though he’s annoyed by the reality of the situation- still measuring it as a loss and win game, man does Vegas absolutely come in and deliver everything he’s asking for ;) no wonder they half destroy the bathroom stall by the time they’re finished with each other lmao

[p1nkshield]

welcome weary traveler you’ve made it to chapter eight! It’s been a long time since I’ve updated, sorry!

Jason was very okay with being a zombie. It was what he joked about when things got overwhelming. He now had a new specific descriptor and a support system he never knew existed. I was strange. The level of self reliance he was used to was now no longer needed. If he were to fall ill he wouldn’t be met with confusion at his vitals or being treated like a case unheard of prior. It was comforting to have someone say, “that’s totally normal, it happened to me”. This would lose a bit of its luster as Jason phased through the kitchen floor with a yelp for the fifth time in ten minutes.

Danny grabbed onto his arm and pulled to no avail.

“Try to fly up instead just accepting your fate.”

Jason was too busy clawing at the floor like a cat being dragged to a bath to heed his advice. This was also to no avail as his arms swished through the floor like it was mist and he fell completely.

Tim was having a very entertaining morning. Watching idly as his older brother’s legs dangled and flailed from the ceiling of the bat cave made his coffee much more enjoyable. He had made a bet with Cass on how many times Jason would fall through before he got used to his newfound abilities. Cass had more faith in him than he did saying that he would fall under 200 times.

FWUMP

By the way things were looking Tim would not have to fight the condiment king for a whole month!

Jason was getting tired feeling like every step was a gamble. Danny was little help. The most he did was graciously build a barrier so that he wouldn’t fall into the mantle of the earth. Witnessing the feat was bewildering. He was scampering about the bat cave picking things up, asking “do you use this?” And then promptly dropping or tearing apart the tech based on the answer. He haphazardly squeezed together a projector-like device and turned it on, producing a neon green grid.

“What is that?” Jason asked as he tested this mesh with his foot.

Danny jumped onto the grid, displaying its bounciness.

“Baby proofing!” Danny joked

“As you develop your powers you’re not going to be able to fully regulate your intangibility. So until you’re phase trained this will help you from sinking into the ground.”

Was Jason going to sink into the ground? Phase training? Jason was getting a bit worried… it was probably fine.

THWUMP

Just as soon as Jason got up the stairs and got his lunch together he fell again. Green was starting to tinge the edge of his vision.

“That’s 15 times today! Start prepping your anti ketchup wash kit!”

Tim was keeping count? They bet on how many times he would fall?! Jason was starting to seethe.

“Jason! Try to think solid thoughts if your feeling yourself slipping!” Danny said, sticking his head through the floor.

Not helpful. Jason did not respond. He was very tired of falling. The first time had been a shock to everyone but Danny. They had all been eating dinner together, a small miracle, and Jason just fell out of his chair. He made a sound comparable to a perfectly cut scream as he was in one room then clipped into the next.

Right now the only thing Jason could do was think of that and breathe in an effort to calm himself down.

Tim took a tentative step back. “You okay?”

Jason thought the answer was quite obvious and simply glared in Tim’s direction.

Danny flew down from the kitchen and procured a glass of ectoplasm from the tanks and placed it into Jason’s hands.

“Drink.”

Jason drank and was immediately was full of much less rage than before. Great. He needed baby proofing and now got hangry like a toddler. Just great. At least he could see the humor in Tim’s bet now.

“Your wager.”

Tim was still tentative about the situation. “…Yeah?”

Jason downed the rest of the ectoplasm

“I want in. I bet less than 50.”

@skulld3mort-1fan @addie-lover-of-stories @ivymala07 @nottmuchtopost @stargazer-luna a @icecweme @dontfightmecauseillcry @seraphinedemort @tinybrie @kyrianclawraith @spoopyspoony @joyfulcollectordreamland @luffyrose @nixthenerd @darkstarsapocalypse @lemccr @busterkeel @britcision @inthereellife @vythika96 @chrysanthemum9484 @blankliferain @sara0055 @pike-s @xye-chan @blackroselina @malice-of-the-sunrise @gin2212 @meira-3919 @undead-essence @onlyhereforthechaos @charcoalstainedbones @ectoradiation @persephoneblackrose @farmercale @claudiashq @boo-ghosties @56thingsinaname @insomniaxonline @thefanficcup @terzatheunderscorerima @wolfeyedwitch

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[darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght]

Pokémon Reborn Screenshot Let's Play: Chapter 48

Helloooo, everyone stumbling onto this post, or those returning from previous installments! I think I got this chapter out in a pretty timely fashion this time, y’know? However, that might be the last (or one of the last) times I’ll be able to do that for a while, since I think (knock on wood) I’ll be able to start up my Fire Emblem game again- not this week, exactly, but the week after, the whole bi-weekly schedule and all. Which, hey, I’m happy about, but as I said, it will mean updates will somewhat slow down again…not that I was particularly faster during the little break.

But until then, we’ll just have to make the most of the time we do have here! And that starts with summarizing what happened in the previous chapter, like always!

Xera, Cain, Radomus, and Gardevoir rush down to Reborn City’s Coral Ward to find Adrienn in front of their old, abandoned Gym. Xe is, understandably, bewildered at how much the city has changed in such a short amount of time. 

After hearing Adrienn’s account of how they went missing, Radomus explains what he believes happened: the energy of Arceus’ meteor in the ruins warped the flow of time, effectively freezing Adrienn. The only reason Xera and the others were not trapped as well was because they were protected by the Ring and Pendant.

Adrienn resolves to fix not just their Gym, but the entirety of Reborn City, wanting to restore it to the place it should be. Cain directs xem to the Grand Hall to speak with Ame, and they depart. With Adrienn’s situation resolved, Xera and the others return to Vanhanen Castle.

Back at the castle, Luna is overjoyed to be reunited with Gardevoir, and Radomus calls in a newcomer. From the front door enters…El, now acting as an obedient butler named Elias. He acts as though he does not recognize Luna, thus no longer refuting Radomus being her father; however, Luna is upset by this development and excuses herself, with a concerned Gardevoir quickly following.

Radomus requests Elias to return the Amethyst Pendant to him, which he does and is then dismissed. When asked by Radomus, Cain explains where the Pendant came from and how Anna is going to want it back- however, Radomus asks to keep the Pendant for the time being, being unable to explain his reasons for this. Ultimately, Xera and Cain have to acquiesce, which Radomus is grateful for.

With the Elias and Pendant business settled, Xera makes preparations to take on Radomus. To that end, she trades Digger the Dunsparce for Junior the Tyrogue at the Nature Center, and also catches Sylva the Flabébé and Megara the Heracross in Aventurine Woods.

With preparations made, Xera enters the Gym to start her challenge. Before she can face Radomus, she must solve several chess puzzles, with Radomus, Cain, Luna, and Gardevoir spectating; she succeeds, and arrives in the chessboard arena to battle against Radomus and Gossip Gardevoir.

After a battle of both strength and wits, Xera wins out over Radomus and earns the Millennium Badge. Luna congratulates both Gardevoir and Xera for their performances before discussing with Gardevoir where she herself will face Xera. Luna explains she is also a Leader in the Reborn League, and the darkness of the nearby Iolia Valley is a perfect setting for her Dark-types.

As if on cue from Luna’s talk of darkness, the lights in the castle go out, to everyone’s confusion. Radomus, Gardevoir, Luna, and Cain leave first, and Xera departs the arena on her own.

So, pretty beefy chapter last time- not quite to the same extent as Chapter 46, but definitely getting up there. And I’m not sure if that trend will continue in this chapter too, but given the last one ended with a highly suspicious blackout and we still don’t know why El is now a butler or why Radomus took the Amethyst Pendant for himself…just saying, there’s a lot that could happen this time. But we won’t find out how right or wrong I am by staying on the intro post, soooo…let’s start!

*CW: mentions of child death, drug mentions

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9*

Part 10*

Part 11*

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

[iztarshi]

Fandom: TMNT multi-turtle crossover. rottmnt centric.

-

Dear Turtles,

Those of us designated outcasts of society though no fault of our own have long dreamed of a place where we can stand tall among our fellow turtles, a community where we would be understood. Now that need no longer be a dream.

In the year 2020 we, the turtles of dimension 872D1, have been able to create a stable portal connecting to that year in multiple universes. You, the turtles of 18R153, are the youngest of the universes we have so far been able to contact. While we were teenagers in the late 80s and early 90s, you are continuing our legacy as teenage mutant ninja turtles as we speak. We are excited to welcome you among us and hope we can provide you with support.

Within this letter you will find four portal keys, one for each of your team. At six o’clock tonight, press the button on your portal key to create a portal and be transported to a place where you will be among your own kind.

Signed, Donatello

P.S. The portal key will still work at any other time, it’s just if you come tonight there’s a welcome party. Please don’t feel rushed to decide. - Leonardo

“We should go,” says Leo, the instant Raph shows him the letter.

“Are you sure?” Raph asks. “They said the invitation’s still open later if we don’t want to come now. Maybe we should wait until we’re over… this whole situation.” The wave of his hand takes in both his own bandaged eye and Leo’s mummified shell.

Leo shakes his head. “The letter said they’re adult versions of us. Like Casey’s senseis. We’ve gotta make a good first impression.”

“Yeah,” Raph says. Because they need friends like that if anything else happens again. Because wouldn’t it be awful to disappoint versions of themselves that are so much more than they are. “Yeah. Raph gets it.”

All the same, it’s awful getting ready. Leo gets excited about picking out clothes, but struggles to get into them without hurting himself. No one mentions the real reason they’re going in full outfits is to hide the bandages on Leo and Donnie’s shells. Raph needs to hide the ones on his shoulder too, but they’re only a small patch and could probably come off. The bandages over his eye are harder to hide. In the end he takes them off and hopes his mask will hide that his eye is puffy and swollen. Mikey wears gloves and holds his hands behind his back so no one can see them shake.

“We all ready?” Raph asks, holding the portal key and watching his phone count down to six o’clock. Three voices answer in the affirmative. “Mad Dogs roll out.”

He presses the key and watches the portal grow in front of him, fading gently to reveal a window into a room with tables full of pizza and a banner in bubble writing saying, “WELCOME TURTLES!!!”

Looking back through it are pudgy middle-aged turtles slightly shorter than Leo with sweet, rounded faces. They’re not wearing clothes, besides their rather pastel ninja bands, but their Michelangelo has a party hat on.

Raphael steps through feeling bewildered, but much less nervous.

“Welcome to the Casa Tortuga,” the Michelangelo says. “I dig your funky looks, little dudes.”

“Little?” says Donnie, taking in this new Michelangelo from head to toe with an efficient flick of his eyes.

Raph shoots him a look. They gotta be polite.

Another portal opening takes the attention away from them. The turtles who step out of that one look far closer to what Raph was expecting. Sure, they’re still short, but they’re buff as hell and they’ve got a serious look like they’ve been through some shit.

“Great, you guys came,” the pastel Donatello says.

The buff Raphael folds his arms like he’s already regretting it, but the Michelangelo grins and holds his hand up for a high three. “I would not want to miss a party run by you guys. Who else is on the guest list?”

“Some other guys we had a crossover with,” Donatello answers. “And the turtles prime but we’re not expecting them to come. And we found these guys!”

He gestures proudly to the Mad Dogs, like they’re a new invention, and Leo responds by striking a pose. “Thank you, thank you, Leonardo, Leon, Nardo, Captain Blue, or Blue Jitsu at your service.”

“Really?” says the buff turtle in the blue mask, his mouth twitching suspiciously at the corner. “I’m Leo.”

The third portal opening once again takes everyone’s attention. The turtles who come out of this one look. Well. With feet that size they’d probably be hard to knock over in battle? Must make it harder to climb buildings without the grippy toes, though. They’re also dressed up, which makes Raph feel better about his group having clothes on. And what they’re dressed in…

“Wow, total Hot Topic vibes,” Leo says, having apparently forgotten about being polite.

“I wouldn’t talk if I was wearing as much fake brand name stuff as you,” the new Raph says.

Leo gives the Raph a look that says his weakness for people who won’t put up with his nonsense is kicking in and tries to drape himself across his shoulders. He gets shoved off, of course, and he almost hides the wince when the shove hits his shell. The Raph certainly hasn’t noticed.

“Looks like everybody’s here, amigos!” the Michelangelo with the party hat says loudly. “Time for food.”

Raph turns his attention to the three tables laden with pizza. They are labelled. “PIZZA”, “WEIRD PIZZA” and “REALLY WEIRD PIZZA”. One of the really weird pizzas appears to be levitating and another is scuttling around on little legs. This might still be less weird than the weird pizza labelled “fudge, marshmallow and anchovy”.

Raph watches his Donnie pick up the scuttling pizza and thoughtfully bite a leg off. Meanwhile the pudgy turtles and the little, freckled Mikey are digging into the weird pizzas and the buff ones are going for normal pizzas. Raph decides to play it safe, while also seeing if staying close to the cool, serious Raph will let him strike up a conversation, and goes for normal pizzas.

Everyone’s loosening up and chatting as the party gets into its stride, but Raph feels awkward. These three groups of turtles know each other, or at least two of them know the third. The Mad Dogs are the odd ones out, no matter how friendly the hosts of this shindig are. Plus, Raph is towering over everyone. There are chairs dotted around in a variety of sizes, including his size, but he still feels like he’s drawing everyone’s eyes. Normally he likes being the big guy, the one who can take the hits and protect but he’s the only Raph this size. And the smaller Raphs don’t have badly injured little brothers trying to hide it. He feels like a fraud, like the friendly punch in the arm and “how much can you bench, big guy?” from the buff Raph would be taken away if this Raph knew that none of his training or working out had let him save Leo from nearly dying.

The others look like they’re doing better. Mikey’s managed to engage the stompy Raphael and the host Leonardo in a conversation about drawing. The Donatellos have congregated into a tight and alarming group. Leo’s being the life of the party, chatting away to anyone who will listen.

Then, just as Leo and the host Raphael are getting a bit too determined to win a pun contest, the Raphael suddenly jumps forward and gently lifts Leo’s arm. There’s blood soaking through his hoodie and dripping softly to the tiled floor.

“Is there a doctor in the house?’ the Raphael asks.

“Uh,” says Leo, trying to pull away.

The pudgy Donatello appears at his Raphael’s elbow. “Should we boil some water?”

“I can’t believe you haven’t learned any more first-aid than that in the last thirty years,” the Raphael laments, shifting to hold Leo more supportively. They both turn to look at the buff Donatello who immediately comes over.

The Raph next to him takes that moment to tip Raph’s chin down and look very intensely into - no, at - his eyes. “Don, I think this one’s hurt too,” he yells.

“No, Raph’s fine.” Raph shoves his hand over his eye and the pressure stings, but he can’t bring himself to pull it away.

Across the room the freckled Mikey pulls up the back of Donnie’s hoodie and says, “Woah, this guy’s super bandaged.”

“Alright, turtles!” their host Leonardo says, in a voice which cuts through the babble. “Herd them into the living room and sit them down on the couch. We’ll fetch…”

“A first aid kit,” says the buff Donatello. “And actually you could boil some water.”

The Leonardo nods and says, in a voice full of confidence, “We’ll do that.”

Raph resists the herding uncertainly. It’s not like he needs checking, although Leo definitely does. Then the pudgy, middle-aged Raphael and Michelangelo catch each other’s eyes, take one of Raph’s hands each and pull like little tugboats with unexpected power. He finds himself stumbling into a room containing a very Raph sized three piece suite just as the buff Michelangelo comes in with Raph’s own Mikey held firmly under one arm.

Someone says, “You were expecting large turtles?”

The host Donatello answers, “We wanted to be sure we could be welcoming to anyone undergoing a super-mutation arc.”

“Huh,” says the buff Donatello. “I doubt I would have been a very good guest when that was happening.”

“We do have a cage as well, if you prefer,” the host Raphael says.

“Thank you, but that was over with a while ago. I’ll just see to the patient.”

Leo, who has been herded into the chair while the rest of them are on the giant sofa, is now squirming at the approach of a Donatello who looks much calmer than his own but even harder to get around.

“It’s fine,” Leo says rapidly. “It’s, you know, we’re pretty tough really. Even if we don’t look that way right now, ha. It’s just a minor injury and it doesn’t really need thiiiiis many turtles.”

The Donatello narrows his eyes while his corresponding Raph takes up a station in front of the door with his arms folded.

“Listen,” the Donatello says, drawing his bo. “We can do this the easy way, or we can test the thickness of that very thick skull.”

“Ah, jeez, why are Donnies like this?” Leo laments.

“Because we spend so much time worrying about turtles like you,” the Donatello says.

The stompy Raph pokes Leo’s shoulder gently. “Just let him get on with it, kid. And next time don’t try to hide injuries like that, I wouldn’t have shoved you if I’d known.”

“Yes,” says the stompy Donnie, currently engaged it trying to get Raph’s own Donnie to stop hissing at him and let him remove his hoodie. “It would very stupid if a turtle made a habit of hiding serious injuries. Wouldn’t it, Raphael?

Raph finds himself converged on by two Leonardos while the third, their host, returns with his Donatello, the first aid kit, and plenty of hot water. He then disappears again to make “medicinal tea” that their Splinter always makes for them when they get injured. Raph isn’t fighting it any longer, it’s actually kind of reassuring, especially seeing a brisk Donatello in his mid-thirties check over Leo. Technically they’ve been treated by Draxum who knows more about their biology than anyone else possibly could, but there’s still something nice about having other turtles do it. Even if some of those turtles are making bets about what caused this in the background. For some reason “window” is the favourite. “Shredder” is coming in second which makes a lot more sense.

The Donatello treating Leo pauses and says, “I don’t know what you’re made of that you survived this, because none of us could have, but you seem to be healing okay. You should stay off your feet, though.”

Leo stops his embarrassed squirming and says, “…Really?”

Raph loses the Hot Topic Leo who slides off the arm of the couch and goes over. “I can do healing hands if it’s that bad.” Then, without waiting, he holds his hands together and starts chanting, moving them as he does. When he touches Leo’s cracked shell there’s a visible difference, small pieces knitting themselves back into place and the bleeding stops.

Mikey sits up next to Raphael, leaning forward as much as the giant couch lets him. “Teach me to do that.”

The pudgy Michelangelo, who has been hovering over Mikey ever since his gloves were removed, reaches out and takes Mikey’s cracked hands between his. “It looks like those hands have done enough for now, little dude.”

“No,” Mikey says. “I’m a mystic warrior! I pulled Leo back from another dimension! There’s got to be more I can do when he’s still hurt or what good is any of it.”

“Yeah,” says the Michelangelo. “I get that. Trust me, I can feel how bright you are, I know you can do tubuloso amounts of stuff. But maybe not right now? We got a turtle who can do it already and that doesn’t mean you can’t, it just means you don’t gotta push yourself.”

Raph puts an arm around Mikey’s shaking shoulders. “Mikey, it’s okay, you can let them…” Mikey’s furious gaze and the other Michelangelo’s knowing one makes him rethink. “We… can let them take care of us.”

Raph lets gentle hands clean his eye, which is sore and dry from the exposure to air, and put a new compress and new bandages over it. Even Donnie has stopped hissing and is letting the stompy Donatello clean his shell.

Then that Donatello clears his throat and makes Donnie tense up by saying, “So, I’m not an expert on softshell biology. But it looks like it’s a very good thing you are a softshell because your shell has torn and bruised instead of shattering despite… uh… what looks a lot like tentacles shoving their way through it?”

“I hacked a spaceship with a biological interface,” Donnie says flatly. He’s pulled his phone out of his pocket and is staring at it instead of any of the turtles around him.

The Donatello’s bandana sticks straight up in the air in alarm. “These went into your brain? Now I’m even more surprised you’re not in a coma. Leo, can we get healing hands over here too?”

“It was an interface, it was designed to work that way,” Donnie says. “The technodrome didn’t do the damage connecting, it was being ripped out when the Krang found me.”

There is an echoing around the room of “the krang?” “the technodrome?” “what kind of krang did you have?” but Raph misses whatever comes next because the echoes keep going, round and round his head, and he feels strange. Familiar strange, like his head is full of hot fluff and the world is slightly to the right of where it should be. Mikey hugs his arm hard and another Mikey, the little freckled one, lands on his lap and reaches up to pat his snout. Raph hears this Mikey say something about “grounding” and “like my alligator friend” but he can’t focus on that now. Instead he wraps an arm around each Mikey and breathes.

He comes back to the host Donatello saying, “Our Krang did have a robot with feet the size of our chests once, but it wasn’t very stable once we took out the molecular amplification unit. Plus, he’s just one person, not a species, and a disembodied brain at that.”

“Wasn’t he a banished member of our Kraang?” asks the Hot Topic Leo.

The Donatello answers, “Only in crossovers.”

Raph’s own Donnie says, “So that’s how you met these guys? Maybe if we’d had another season.”

“Don’t let it bother you, we can make our own crossovers now,” answers the host Donatello. “There’s never enough time to exchange notes during the official ones.”

”What?” Raph asks, wondering if he’s fully back in reality or not.

Donnie buries his snout in his phone again. “Don’t worry about it.”

The smell of pizza makes Raph look around and he finds the unoccupied turtles pulling in small tables and piles of pizza. It makes him realise that if the party is moving in here his brothers — and especially him — are taking up all the seating. Plus, he should really be helping out. When he tries to get up though he finds the buff Raph pushing him back into place.

“You stay off yer feet for now,” he says.

Raph shakes his head. “Raph can help. Raph didn’t get hurt badly like Leo and Donnie.”

“Yer still hurt,” says the buff Raph.

“I should have protected them.”

“I get that. It sucks when you can’t protect your brothers. My Leo’s been in a coma and Donny’s been through stuff he still won’t talk about when I wasn’t there. But hey, sometimes keepin’ em alive is all you can do. They look like they’re gonna heal okay.”

Raph finds himself nudged into looking over at his brothers. Mikey is still next to him, arguing across Raph’s lap with the older Mikey still tucked against Raph’s other side. Donnie is showing off something on his phone to the other Donatellos and Raph assumes it’s tech until he hears the word “pizzasaurus”. Leo’s lost his social flair from earlier and his smile is considerably more shy than sparkling, but he is smiling again, hands waving as he explains something to the Hot Topic Leo and Raph.

“You think you guys will be coming here a lot?” Raph asks quietly.

“Of course,” both the buff Raph and the freckled Mikey chorus.

Nearby their pudgy host Leonardo looks incredibly proud.

[blackjackkent]

Jaheira! Jaheira, we did it, we beat Ketheric! Are you proud of us? I hope you're proud of us! <3

"Our enemies spread like rub-rot. Treat one patch, and two more bloom in its place."

"An Elder Brain, bound by lost Netherese magic, with servants of the Dead Three holding the chain. Reminds me of old times."

Well, that's not exactly pride, but at least I don't have to explain the situation to you.

Some of the available conversation options here are asking her about her history with the Dead Three, mind flayers, etc. But those are a little weird given Hector's proclivity for history; he definitely knows all about her adventures with Caden and that it involved a clash with Bhaal and his followers and other such terrible things.

He is, however, bemused by the note of humor in her tone as she speaks.

"You almost seem like you're enjoying yourself."

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you?"

Hector just kind of stares at her for a moment. And then thinks. The bewildering thing is that in this moment of relief, able to relax after all the horrifying experiences of the day, he does actually feel oddly happy, in a muted, exhausted sort of way. And he has started to realize that this experience has changed him fundamentally in a way that he may never come back from.

But enjoying himself?

"I've got a parasite in my brain," he says wryly. "Makes it hard to enjoy anything."

She looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, then nods. "You came here in search of a cure, but found a conspiracy instead. I can see how that would be disheartening." She reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder, gives it an encouraging shake. "But take courage. We have killed a man who could not die, and stripped the Absolute's army of its general. You have a Netherstone, and you're on the scent of two more."

She draws back, nods firmly, approvingly. "These Chosen have a reason to fear you. And I would like to be at your side when you confront them."

Again he stares at her - this time with more surprise than confusion. "You want to join me?" he asks. At his side he can sense Karlach starting to almost vibrate with held-in excitement, the heat around her starting to crest again. He swallows the urge to smile, keeps his expression as serious as possible.

"Of course," she says matter-of-factly. "Falling foul of Ketheric convinced me that my grand adventures were behind me - that even if I survived, I should hang up my blades. But you convinced me otherwise. We ventured into darkness together; now we've come out the other side, I'd say I'm feeling a little refreshed. When we reach Baldur's Gate, there will be even darker paths to tread."

She lifts one arm in a Harper salute, her pale eyes fixed on him. "I will follow you wherever they lead."

The only reason this whole conversation isn't the most incredible thing that is ever happened is because earlier today the daughter of a goddess offered him the same things. Jaheira is a hero of legend, and she's offering to fight at his side, to follow him?

What have I done, he thinks with faint bewilderment, to have earned so much trust? And what if I am not worthy of it, in the end?

But he tries not to let the uncertainty show on his face, just nods firmly in return. "I'll see you at camp," he answers.

She grins crookedly. "How does it compare to a shadow-cursed inn?" She chuckles; then the humor fades and she speaks more briskly, all business. "With the Absolute's army gone, the Risen Road should be clear. We can follow it all the way to Baldur's Gate. There's a Harper safehouse in Wyrm's Crossing - Danthelon's Dancing Axe. We'd do well to check in with them before entering the city proper. Beyond that, our course is yours to set. I can recall how to take orders, as well as give them."

----

"Holy shit, Soldier. Holy shit. Holy shit." Karlach starts grinning fit to burst as soon as Jaheira has walked away. "She's coming with us. She wants to follow you. What is happening?"

"One more strange thing in a terribly strange day," Hector murmurs, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opens them and looks over at her, and smiles himself, seeing the excitement in her expression. "Well worth everything, to see you so happy right now, though."

"I can't fucking believe it," she says cheerfully, and throws an arm around his shoulders, hugging him against her side. "You take me to meet the best people."

[birdylion]

2, 4, 17 and 24 for the aro asks

Thanks for the asks, anon!

2. When did you first realise you were aro-spec?

Quite late because I didn't have the words for it for a long time, and getting there was complicated. I don't recall it with certainty, but I think I first thought about maybe being ace because clearly there was something unusual about my attraction. At some point I'd heard the word and its definition enough and that it just made sense for my life experience of, for example, mostly just ending up in friends with benefits situations and never wanting anything else out of it. So, mid-twenties, I guess?

edit: I just re-read a bunch of older stuff. I realised when I was very close friends with benefits with someone, with a commitment you could call queerplatonic, but definitely without romance or romantic feelings on either side. Other people kept telling me that I was in fact in a relationship and just didn't know it, and I was SO annoyed by that. That's when I started using the aro label.

4. What moments make you think, “Well, I’m definitely aro”

Well there's all the times when I'm bewildered by other people's amatonormative assumptions, about wanting to find a partner, about needing a partner, about what it means to be in a relationship, about what romantic partners can and can't do (like voice disagreement with their partner about how much they like the color of a wall).

There's Valentine's Day, which is just such a non-issue for me that I'm entirely bewildered how there can be such an industry around it. I used to be annoyed by it, but that was before I figured out I was aro. I was so frustrated that apparently it was so important and I didn't get it, but it made no sense, and that made me angry. Now I can just shrug and say it's not something in which I want to take part.

There's bound to be more, that's just what comes to mind.

17. How do you feel about sex/love songs?

First, what moves me most about music is the actual musical part, the melody and harmonies and rhythm etc. I only listen to the lyrics half the time. So I often don't notice unless I pay attention, but then I'm bored when every other song is about that. Human experiences are more than just romance. I'm sure "I want you but I can't have you" feels like something you have to cry out loud, but ... there's so much diversity in the human experience, aren't you bored to sing about romance all the time?

Sex/love songs that come to mind that deeply move me:

I'm you man, by Leonard Cohen (devotion)

Ready to call it love, by Mika (uncertainty about (queer) feelings and commitment)

Nothing else matters, by Metallica (deep trust between lovers)

Arguably sex/love songs:

You're my best friend, by Queen (look Deacon wrote it about his wife)

Songs about other topics, just for the fun of it:

Cats in the Cradle, by Harry Chapin (familial love and the passing of time)

Streets of London, by Ralph McTell (social misery)

Riez, by Stromae (starving artists)

The Islander, by Nightwish (being forgotten by the world, I guess)

For Good, from the musical Wicked (two people having changed each other for the better)

Gracias a la vida, by Mercedes Sosa (being grateful for your life)

Fade to Black, by Metallica (depression, suicidal ideation)

Eleanor Rigby, by the Beatles (lonely people)

Wanderlust, by Nightwish (wanderlust)

Fils de joie, by Stromae (how society treats sex workers)

I wish I knew how it would feel to be free, by Nina Simone (being able to be yourself)

I am what I am, by Gloria Gaynor (being yourself)

Friends will be friends, by Queen (friends being there for you and vice versa)

24. Best part of being aro?

Best part of identifying as aro is that I can do away with all the little excuses I found before for not dating or looking for relationships: I'm too busy with school/uni, I'm going abroad soon and it wouldn't be fair to start something now, etc. And internally, I feel just so much more chill about the whole thing now that I can just shed society's expectations and say 'no thank you' while still acknowledging that it is a thing that's important for others.

Best part of being aro is ... it seems other people are very stressed about romance, and I'm just not? Sure, I'm sometimes frustrated and feel alienated that others seem to live in such a different internal world than I do, but from what I see, I wouldn't want to think that much about dating and partnering up and being with someone just for the sake of being with someone. The best part of being aro is definitely that I had an easier time dissecting amatonormativity; it was easier for me to get there and I think that changes my life for the better, all in all. Alloromantic people can do that too, but I guess it's not as intuitive.

[ishouldbedoinghw]

You Can't Erase Me

One Piece fanfic, part 12: My Big Fat Shanks Wedding

Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.

A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst and comedy ensues.

A/N: Y'all know the drill. Guess who's back. I'm tired of classwork and worrying about work. I was originally going to rewrite the previous chapter because I didn't remember liking it, but I reread it and it isn't that bad. Projecting onto this chapter because I wanna get proposed to and get married surrounded by loved ones. Song of the day is When He Sees Me from the Waitress musical.

TW: More thirsting over a vampire, bad decision-making, Shanks, suggestiveness but not nsfw, this is the first time I'm doing creative/fictional writing since the summer so it might be bad, marriage, a wedding, slight angst

---

Despite my protests, Shanks still seemed to be hellbent on putting every white flower he could find in my hair. Maria was still by my side, completely confused but laughing and helping me brush away the most crumpled ones. She hadn't been able to get a straight answer out of me in regards to how I'd gotten Mihawk to propose to me yet, and had only stopped pestering me after I promised to let her come to the wedding.

As for the wedding itself, I knew the general routine of the ceremony, but as per usual, I could not remember ever attending one. Hell, what if I had already been married and not known it?

My groom had vanished from our impromptu parade through the village, and his sword had disappeared with him. A smile crept across my face as I pictured him bringing the massive weapon as a witness to the ceremony.

One thing that was nagging me in regards to Mihawk was how he seemed to already know about my past, and how Shanks seemed to have been the one to tell him. I'd never given much thought to how much I would care if others shared what had happened to me, but the panging in my chest over Shanks planning out my future without asking me wasn't pleasant.

I had been given a choice, I reasoned. I certainly wasn't being forced into anything, and my shaky steps were more from exhaustion and nerves rather than uncertainty about my decision. Shady planning or not, the chance at freedom he and Mihawk had given me was something I couldn't bring myself to turn down.

The little white church was about as picturesque as it could be, sitting peacefully on a sleepy little street, the noise of Delilah's place long since left behind. The tranquility of the night was rudely interrupted by Shanks and Yassop kicking in the door. A poor bewildered nun came clambering down the stairs, pleading with them to leave, as weddings weren't done in the middle of the night.

My own pleas also went unheard by the rowdy crew, as I tried to take the side of the nun and say we could just come back in the morning.

Shanks said "Nonsense, dear, you said you wanted to wed your beloved as soon as possible!" and patted my head before going back to demanding for the priest.

I heard the priest before we could see him sleepily burst in the doorway behind us, holding a Navy-issued rifle. Shanks clapped him on the shoulder, the gesture friendly but his gaze piercing. The priest quickly lowered his weapon when he saw who he was dealing with, and scrambled to a room behind the choir pews, shouting something about needing his robes.

Maria, seeming to revel in the chaos of it all, ushered me into a hall at the back of the sanctuary.

Smoothing down my hair and picking out more crumpled petals, she said, "You know, I wouldn't exactly be thrilled to have a warlord and the Red-Haired crew on my ass, but if you needed to do a whole 'runaway bride' situation, I'd be more than happy to help."

It was a very comforting notion, to know this girl I'd only known for a night would put her own safety at risk to help me. "There's no need for that, but thank you," I say, putting a hand on her arm. "I fully agreed to this, no one's forcing me to do anything."

She seemed genuinely relieved, ironic considering how fun she'd had on the trek over here. She let out a heavy breath, and leaned back against the wall. "You wouldn't be the first bride I had to steal away, you know," she laughed.

"Really?" I ask, sticking a finger into the back of my wig to scratch at my sweaty scalp. Ew.

"You wouldn't believe how many people get carried away dancing and end up married to some jackass pirate who wants to whisk them away to fuck-all on the Grand Line. I wouldn't doubt you're the first to demand a wedding this time of night either."

I laughed, adjusting the pieces of my dress that were poking out of my corset. "Is this the first one for a warlord you've attended?"

She scrunched her nose. "A warlord, no, but a few big shots that got an annulment pretty quickly." She scowled then, and muttered, "And one that thought he was a big-shot and made off with our best girl."

I didn't want to think of the implications of that.

She shrugged, and smiled again when Benn poked his head through the door. "Hey, Jett, the doctor's in-"

"You know I hate that joke." Hongo snaps as he pushes past Beckmann.

"Maria, this is Hongo-"

"I let you leave with the circus crew one time and they marry you off! Not to mention let someone snatch you up and make you dance in a tavern-"

He surprises me by pulling me into a bone-crushing hug, something I couldn't recall ever seeing him do.

I squeezed back briefly and tried to wriggle away before my eyes started to water.

He gave one more firm squeeze before letting go, immediately going back to his gruff self. "Now, could you please tell me why you're marrying Hawkeyes, and why the wedding is in the dead of night?"

"Shanks."

"Figured."

Maria looked very amused at the great Red-Haired Shanks being discussed like an aggravating child.

"Shit! Right, Maria, this is Hongo, the doctor for the Red-Haired pirates, and my- caretaker, for all intents and purposes."

Hongo's face was bright red but still gruff when he shook Maria's hand, and I briefly recall Yassop poking fun at Hongo's lack of charm with girls.

Maria seemed to enjoy his reaction all too much.

She didn't have time to make any more inappropriate comments about my crewmates as Benn opened the door again.

"Shanks can't decide if he wants to be best man, ringbearer, or officiant. I don't think he believes the Navy doesn't recognize pirate captains as real officiants, so-" he vaguely gestures past him, and I get the hint.

My hand is shaking when I offer it to Hongo. "Walk me?" He doesn't say anything, but gives my hand a squeeze as he takes it.

"I'll be waiting with the door open!" Maria calls as we walk out, but her words fade on my ears as I am suddenly acutely aware of a very full church, every eye looking at me.

Shanks, somehow, had taken the liberty of inviting the entire crew and half of the guests at Delilah's.

I was too busy willing my feet to stop shaking to even look for Mihawk at the end of the aisle until we were already halfway there.

The only thing that had changed was the absence of his hat, and his dark hair was pushed back out of his face. Those golden eyes never left me.

I froze when we reached the front of the church. Shit, what was I supposed to do? Hongo, bless him, pushed me in front of my groom.

The priest was handling this situation rather well, and while he seemed a bit put off by exactly who it was in front of him, he didn't seem to be a stranger to being around powerful pirates.

At the priests word, Mihawk took my hands in his. I cringed, knowing how sweaty and clammy they had to feel on his skin.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here-"

The priest went on to explain that we were to become one, that we were to be joined together by love in matrimony. The declaration made my cheeks burn, and as silly as the thought was, I wondered if the vows we would be making would even count for anything, considering this "marriage" was only going to serve to keep me out of the hands of the government.

Surprisingly, my voice didn't waver much as I promised to have and to hold Mihawk. I did my best to focus on the feel of his hands in mine, all coarse and rough from what was likely decades of sword fighting.

"Ah, look at each other- erm, please," the priest stammered, and I shot my gaze back up at the warlord.

As large as the cross was around his neck, I almost had to laugh at the fact that he hadn't bothered to put on a shirt inside a church.

Of course, I'd been too busy studying the chest it rested on to even wonder what the cross meant, so I suppose I couldn't be any better.

"M-Mihawk," The priest began, catching my attention. As Mihawk began to repeat the vows I had, I couldn't help but notice his usual haughtiness was absent from his voice. It sounded as if he truly meant and believed what he was saying, like this wasn't a complete farce-

Ah.

It really hadn't struck me until now just how important it was to make this entire thing convincing. It was unlikely that someone would question the legitimacy of the marriage, but if the point was for me to be left alone, it made sense for Mihawk to display some kind of affection for me. The more he seemed to genuinely care, the more likely he was to seek out revenge for my sake.

I was able to will my hands to stop shaking so much with that in mind, just in time for the priest to ask for the rings.

The band Mihawk slipped on my finger was sturdy and golden, with a carefully carved little bird in the place of a gem. Perfect for a life on the sea, I realized. I wondered if he'd picked it out himself.

It was with a flush of embarrassment that I pushed a thicker, plainer band on Mihawk's finger, mostly due to the fact that I had not thought even once about getting him a ring.

I was shocked out of my guilt by the feeling of Mihawk's rough thumb swiping over my knuckles.

"-now pronounce you man and wife, you may-"

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

All this wedding shit had happened so fast I forgot I had to actually kiss him. Did I even know how to kiss? Should I be the one to lean in?

"-kiss-"

Fuck-

Mihawk's hands cradled my face now, but he made no movements to lean in. He simply studied my face, head slightly cocked to one side.

He was waiting. It seemed like he wasn't going to do anything until I did. Whether it was out of respect for me or reluctance to embarrass himself I really wasn't sure.

Regardless, I couldn't just wait here and do nothing. The church was full of people who had to believe this was real, not to mention freezing in the middle of my own wedding would be mortifying.

Mihawk was still waiting.

So I gave the tiniest of nods, hoping he would make a move.

It seemed to happen so slowly, then his lips were on mine.

He was softer than I would expect from the world's strongest swordsman, but the kiss held all the intensity he seemed to carry with him. He certainly was not the type to do anything halfway, and this was no exception. My hands had just crept up to thread my fingers through his hair, and I'd just gotten to feel how soft it was before he pulled away.

The church had erupted and cheers, and the priest had hurriedly excused himself and disappeared. Mihawk's expression never changed as he took my hand, led me back down the aisle and out the doors. The night was warm on my skin, and the street was a breath of fresh air in comparison to the stifling atmosphere of the chapel.

"You're free to do as you wish." His back was to me, but I could see a slight breeze stirring his hair.

Huh. His hair was a little curly.

"Will you be joining me on my home island, or do you wish to remain on the sea?"

The question was sudden - I'd had barely any time to even catch my breath from the ceremony.

"I-"

He tugs me down an alleyway as the church doors burst open. He whisks me silently through the village, and I get the tiniest glimpse of the lights still shining at Delilah's before we reach the sea.

A tiny, coffin shaped boat that was very... vampire-esque was bobbing in the light waves. I bit my laugh to keep from laughing at how fitting it was for my new husband.

My new husband.

He was looking at me as he donned his hat and sword once again, still waiting for my answer.

I remained silent, my gaze wandering to the vast expanse of the ocean.

I could have a life of peace. I could live in comfort and solitude as he did, never afraid of being someone's prisoner again.

But could I live without exploring the world I didn't remember? I'd just barely gotten the strength to venture out past the deck of the Red Force. Tonight was the first night I'd felt alive since I woke up in the medbay- could I give up the thrill I'd felt?

I thought of the crew that had cared for me. I wasn't sure if they loved me, really, but I'd grown to care so deeply for them. Could I give them up? A life without Shanks's horrible voice singing sea shanties I could do, but-

"I can't," I said firmly. "I don't want to stay holed up somewhere. I can't- I can't be stuck anywhere again." I looked up at him, and smiled. "Thank you. You've given me a chance at being someone other than a bird in a cage. I'm sure life would've been peaceful and lovely with you, but..." I trailed off, but he looked as if he understood.

After a quick glance over his shoulder, he grabbed my left hand, and pressed something small into my palm before flipping it over and brushing his lips over my knuckles.

"Fly freely then, little bird."

[confusedshades]

Ok this is adorable and I'm now wondering what happens if Danny wakes up next morning with no recollection of the conversation except a few flashes of standing in front of Red Hood on the rooftop.

Jason sees Danny groaning the next morning on his way back from the supermarket. So Jason hoping to kickstart something flirts with Danny. Danny has no recollection of anything beyond crying and a vague red helmeted vigilante just stares at Jason. Because he still thinks that Jason's dating Red Hood.

One extended awkward moment later Danny tries to sneak off and Jason pretends to get a call and not see him. Danny wants to bash his head into the nearest wall, not because of the pounding headache from the hangover, but because of the amazing fact that Jason, the sweetest kindest most amazing man flirted with him. Obviously he meant nothing by it, he has Red Hood as a partner, but oh Ancients Danny desperately wishes Jason meant it seriously.

A week more of similar instances later, Jason decides fuck it. He's done with tip toeing around the whole thing and Danny is obviously unsure. Or shy. So he walks over to Danny's place a few moments after he knows he gets back usually. When the door opens, he walks in after saying he wants to talk. Danny, bewildered, let's him in and waffles around as he watches Jason pace around his living room.

"The other day, when you were drunk, you um said something." Jason starts his planned speech, and watches Danny pale. "Um..." Danny mumbles unsure of how to get out of this situation.

Obviously some things were said, (none of which he remembers) and Red Hood went and told Jason. Oh god he's going to have to move because he's going to actually die of embarrassment. How a Halfa dies, no one knows but he'll be the one for the history books and all because he melted into embarrassed goo.

"I know you said it to Red Hood, except I was there." Danny blue screens. Oh great. Jazz is going to get stuck dealing with his useless stuff because he won't even be able to move out first before dying of embarrassment. Ellie is going to hunt him down and Clock Work will help her because this will just be amusing and he lives for that.

Jason, unaware of Danny's internal monologuing, is shoving his hands into his pockets so he doesn't wring them or pick at his clothes. He's got no problem facing off against rogues or mobs or traffickers any day of the week. But this? It had him sweating bullets and tripping over his words. But Jason want one to back down once committed, so he took a deep breath and spat out what was on his mind.

"I was there because I'm Red Hood Danny. And I've thought you're handsome and sweet and a catch for a while, but you never responded to anything, so I just let it be but then you kinda said what you said, and now I just wanted to ask you, if, I could, you know, if I could take you out on a date."

Danny stood there, processing everything. He opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out so he closed it again. He opened it again, but all that came out was,

"Oh."

Then he promptly turned intangible and sank through the floor hoping to sink into obscurity. Except, with the whole confession, he only got through till his hips. Now would be an excellent time to melt into embarrassed goo.

Alcohol

A drunk Danny proposes and Jason has a short circuit.

Note: I don't know English, I wanted to share my idea and used Google Translate. Note 2: Warning for terrible writing skills and character characterization, at least I think you get the idea, I think. T-T

Jason x Danny …

Love is complicated. Danny had inevitably fallen for his handsome, cool neighbor: Jason, the problem? His neighbor dates the equally handsome and cool Red Hood.

His heart broke instantly. So to get over his broken heart Danny decides to drink the wine that Princess Dora sent him.

He drank too much, and apparently ghostly alcohol can do what human alcohol can't: get him drunk.

That's how a drunk Danny somehow got to a rooftop and found Red Hood. His love rival. Worst of all, Danny can't even object to Jason's decision to date the anti-hero, because Red Hood is Red Hood and Danny is Danny.

Oh…

Danny became depressed and now he is crying in front of the guard.

The guard panics. He tries to calm Danny down by saying nice things, but Danny cries more. Jason officially hates himself. How did he make his pretty, tender neighbor cry?

And suddenly his drunk Danny screams: "it's all your fault!" That's when Red Hood freezes. Exactly what is his fault?

Danny continues: "You-You…he loves you! Silly, silly, why did he have to like you? I love him more." Oh, that's the problem. His Danny is in love with a bastard, and said bastard is apparently in love with Red Hood.

He absolutely doesn't share the same feeling, especially if Danny is crying for him. He briefly wonders if it would be right to hit the guy Danny likes.

"Jason loves you! You should say those words to him" Excuse me, what did you say? "Silly"

Oh, Jason Todd?

"Yes!" He seems to have spoken out loud, because his pretty neighbor responds with a broken voice.

Ha.

Jason has a short circuit. He can't process this; The reason why his neighbor didn't pay attention to his flirting was because he thought he already had a partner. That he (Jason) was dating him (Red Hood)

He should have stopped that rumor from the beginning, so this misunderstanding wouldn't have wreaked havoc on his love life. On the other hand, seeing his adorable neighbor looking like a drunk makes Jason melt.

"Do you think I'm dating…Jason?" His voice is serious, although it is probably not noticeable through the filter of the mask.

Danny nods. "Is a lie." He is amused when he sees the surprise in Danny's eyes, this drunk is adorable. "Just like you, I already have someone I like."

"So you're not dating Jason?" Oh boy. "Can I go out with him? Can I tell him that I like him?"

Jason laughs internally, and says, "You should do it." And he must return to his apartment soon, after all, he will soon receive an important declaration of love.

This is the best day of his life.

Unfortunately his statement won't come tonight, because Danny trips and falls to the ground. Apparently unconscious.

Jason sighs. He will have to wait until tomorrow, while he takes care of picking up his (now) cute boyfriend on his back. That's when he hears him murmur.

"Jason, marry me…"

!!!!!!

"Hahaha, ask me on a date first." He answers her, although he knows that his boyfriend is already in the world of dreams.

He absolutely won't let Danny forget this.

…

I repeat: I don't know English, I wanted to share my idea and used Google Translate.