#idk when the castle was actually built

[elvesdragonsanddarkmagic]

I have a question about the dungeon, actually. You wrote that you relocated the dungeon to the right tower and you showed these two screenshots but isn't the first - the "official" dungeon and the second - Viren's secret dungeon? They'd probably be in different places

That's a good point actually, separating them would stop people from discovering Viren's secret dungeon. I kind of thought it's one big dungeon network and his parts are blocked off maybe? Maybe the couple of doors leading towards there are locked and only he has the key? Idk lmao

I've been really hung up on the 2nd entrance to Viren's dungeon (the one Viren came from to meet Gren) and whether that one also comes with the rock stone combination puzzle and drop down spiral staircase

Just for the satisfaction of piecing the 2 clusters of dungeons together in the end (and so I don't have to leave that second entrance leading to nowhere), I'm going to model it so they're connected, and the secret painting pathway in Viren's office is for convenience, not for secrecy

Tho having them be entirely separate from each other makes much much more sense but my brain hurts thinking about the loose ends I'm so sorry

[lyriumcoloredskies]

Shaken Up Hearts

Pairing: Sanji x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Zoro x Sanji, Zoro x Reader x Sanji WC: 10k Summary: Sanji's brain short-circuits. What? Did he hear that correctly? You both wanted him? “Don’t over think this.” Zoro murmurs into his ear, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin. CW: 18+ MDNI, alcohol consumption, misunderstanding, idiots in love, porn with way too many feelings, angst, jealousy, pining, PIV, anal sex, oral, threesome, guy on guy, girl on guy, bisexual sanji, bisexual zoro, reader is described as AFAB, polyamory, happy ending AN: *taps cigarette on the ashtray* look idk what to say, this was supposed to be a 5k word mindless smut but it turned into this because I am incapable of writing smut without feels it seems.

Faithfulness and resoluteness.

You and Zoro.

The two of you are held in high regard as the oldest crew members, with you joining only a few days after Zoro. Dependable and resilient, should any troubles find them on the seas, the crew knew they could always rely on you two. The sentiment is shared between you and Zoro. Time and time again, Zoro proved himself worthy of the mantle of first mate, making agonizing decisions for the betterment of the crew when even Luffy couldn’t. He was a surprising voice of pragmatism in the hardest of times, something you appreciated him for.

Zoro’s opinion of you ran deep as well. Steadfast, you were a beacon in the darkest times, an outstretched hand always offered to any nakama in need. Without hesitation, you always had the right words to breathe new life into the resolves of those around you.

It’s a deep respect that’s built off watching each other defeat every obstacle to persevere despite the difficult nature of having such large dreams in a vast ocean that only knows to crush the people that enter its waters. It’s something primal as you watch in titillation as Zoro dominates his adversaries with his iron will, something Zoro reciprocates with a voracious gleam in his eyes any time he fought alongside you.

That respect for each other would sometimes turn into something mischievous. Two tigers testing the limits of each other’s boundaries, teeth bared at the anticipation of gaining ground. Friendly competition the two of you called it – the crew called it anything but. The two of you were people who, once you set your mind to something, would chase the ends of the world for it. This included winning childish competitions. It was impossible to break the two of you apart when you decided to sink your teethes into each other like snarling pups. The point was proven early into your journey, during the banquet at Vivi’s castle, an incident that would aptly be named the Drinking Contest Incident of Alabasta, where the two of you were goaded by Usopp into seeing how many barrels of alcohol each of you could consume.

'Surely they won’t go too far' Usopp thought.

He was proven wrong when both you and Zoro neared the bottom of the second barrels, only taking a break to puke in the Royal Alabastan Gardens before going back to drinking – health be damned. The night ended in you and Zoro out cold, laid out on your sides as to not choke on your own vomit while Chopper flittered about, panicking that the two morons might actually die in his care. After seeing Chopper’s visage overcome hysterics, face streaked with tears and snot, Nami beat the both of you over the head the next day. She sternly put her foot down on any future y/n and Zoro competitions. The rest of the crew dutifully agreed that you and Zoro were not to be trusted. It only took two more incidents for you and Zoro to admit they were right. It was purely out of self-preservation, lest the two of you not even survive to see your dreams fulfilled. Occasionally the competitiveness would rear up, but time had tempered the two of you. The both of you found less and less things worth fighting over, no longer did you fight over bottles of wine and sake, instead choosing to share.

Life was funny in that way.

****

You were on your 5th bottle of wine and Zoro on his 7th, not that you were counting.

Of course not.

The warm embrace of alcohol has long since settled in your flesh, the balmy air adding to the flush of your cheeks. You found yourself swaying to the beat of the Shandorian drums, beat thrumming in your veins. Drunken eyes watched as your crewmates and the Skypeians dance around the bonfire, care thrown to the wind. You glaze over the figure of Usopp surrounded by a group of children, no doubt enthralling them with a legendary tale of Captain Usopp, commander of 8000 troops.

A mixture of the wine and altitude have you searching for a place to sit, wanting to not fall on your ass in spectacular fashion. Your head swivels about, you see Robin in deep discussion with Gan Fall and rule that out. Another turn a few degrees to the left and you spy Zoro sitting alone. Fueled by bad ideas and Skypeian wine, you grab another bottle before settling on the log next to Zoro, leaving a comfortable distance in between. The rich tannins of the wine dance delightfully on your tongue, and you decide to take another pull before you offer the bottle to Zoro. He accepts, your fingers minutely brushing against each other at the pass. He takes a moment to read the label before taking a swig, throwing his head back, the prominent veins of his neck highlighted by the firelight. Traitorous eyes linger for too long at the bob of his adams apple. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, passing the bottle back and forth, watching the silly antics of your crew as they celebrate this hard earned win.

Zoro is the first to break the lazy pattern of back and forth with the wine. Your outstretched arm aches as you hold the bottle out for a mite too long. The confused look you offer him goes unanswered as well, the swordsman a million miles away. Your eyes follow his gaze and you can’t help the feeling that settles into your stomach with the wine.

It’s Sanji.

He’s staring at Sanji.

Sanji, who is bathed in orange glow from the bonfire, his porcelain skin flushed with pink like an angel dusted it over his cheeks. Emotions well inside of you, flooding into an ugly feeling that you found yourself wadding in. Not wanting to bother with the messiness of it all, you brashly decide to down the rest of the bottle, hoping that the burn of the alcohol would drown everything out. To hell with feeling bad on a night as good as this.

Unfortunately, like a whore on the day that the rent is due, the feelings don’t stop bothering you, nagging constantly in the inner cogs of your mind. Inhibited by the mind meddling nature of wine, your mouth opens and words you don’t recognize tumble out.

“Got a crush?”

Your fishing attempt snags you a gaping, sputtering Zoro. Fuck, now you wish you hadn’t said anything at all. Zoro’s hilarious dumbfounded expression only soothes your heart a tiny bit.

Unrestrained, a loud cackle rips out of you, another cheap cover to hide the hurt radiating through you. It seems to further Zoro’s embarrassment, the man’s cheeks flushing a pretty red. In an attempt to get even, he snatches the bottle from you only to realize it was empty.

“Asshole.”

The only response he gets from you is another cackle. It takes a few moments for you to settle down, letting the silence envelope the two of you again.

“If you like him so much, why don’t you tell him?”

You pick at the skin near your nails, an ugly habit.

“Tch. It’s not that simple.”

You roll your eyes, of course it was simple. Zoro was just an idiot. Irritation lingers like a fog in your mind as the wine fails to numb your pesky feelings. Quickly, you lose yourself, letting various fleeting thoughts pull you in every direction. Zoro doesn’t comment on your sudden silence, keeping you company while you think.

“What if I like him too?”

Two heads turn and eyes lock. Zoro’s eyes are dark and indecipherable to you as the firelight danced on them. Seconds tick by but neither of you drop your gaze.

“Marimo! Y/n-swan! Try these!”

Two pairs of eyes break their battle, swinging over to catch the sight of Sanji walking over, an excited wide grin gracing his delicate features. His signature cigarette firmly between his white teeth and in each hand he holds a skewers of meat and vegetables.

The blond thrusts a skewer to the both of you before sitting between the two of you. You examine the skewer, it’s comprised of some sort of marinated red meat and vegetables that look like mushrooms and leeks. Steam wafts upward and with it the smell of something peppery and tangy.

“The flavors are something I’ve never tried before! I asked them and they say that they use a combination of pink peppercorns and a citrus called the hand of god” Sanji prattles on, his enthusiasm palpable. You and Zoro watch him, engrossed in the boyish wonder on his face. Pairs of eyes meet again in a fragile moment. You have no words for Zoro and he has none for you, yet you know that the two of you understand each other. He studies you intensely before offering you a solid nod, one that you reciprocate. The cook chatters on, inhibitions lowered by the alcohol, oblivious to what was happening only a few inches from him.

****

The next few islands pass by uneventfully, both you and Zoro hesitant to make a move. It ends up an awkward dance around each other and Sanji, a weird tango of frustration whose steps involve having enough nerve to track down the blond but suffering from cold feet when it came to talking with him. It’s only after the events of Water 7 that you decide to muster up the gumption to try. Life was too short for you to shy away from the things you wanted, and you could tell Zoro decided the same.

“Sanji-”

The cook’s ears perk up at the melodic notes of your voice, heart stirring. He turns his attention from the prep work in front of him, meeting your face with a playboy smile.

“Yes, my sweet angel?”

“Do you mind if I watch you cook lunch?” you ask, the innocent tilt of your head making Sanji’s heart palpate. You wanted to watch him cook?

“O-of course my angel!”

You beam and it makes his heart beat rapidly. With gentle footsteps you pad into the kitchen. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of Sanji’s knifework taking over the small space. After a few minutes, his curiosity picks up and he peeks out of his periphery to see you standing a mere few inches from him, leaning close enough to touch his arm. He works on autopilot, hands relying on muscle memory as he prepped the vegetables for lunch. Your hands are clasped behind your back in your usual pose. For anyone else, Sanji would preen like a peacock, ready to show off his honed skills, but under the lens of your inscrutable eye, he feels so exposed. Trying to stave off sudden uncomfortableness of the silence his mouth opens, and he finds himself rambling about cooking techniques. Ever patient, you nod and comment in all the right places.

While Sanji loved every lady on the ship, in the deepest crevices of his heart, he would readily admit that you were his favorite. Your soft smiles of encouragement, the way you entertained his foolish notions, all of it made Sanji’s heart turn into goo in his chest.

Gods, you had managed to carve out your place in his heart so early, the memory often rewinding and replaying in his head. It hadn’t been long since he left Baratie to make his home on Merry Go, back when Luffy still had the habit of picking out the vegetables in all his dishes. You chided the boyish captain on his behalf. The first bits of kindness he received from someone who wasn’t Zeff or the Baratie cooks.

“Luffy, Sanji worked hard to cook us this food. Don’t disrespect his efforts by being picky.”

After dinner that you offered him an earnest smile, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“In case anyone hasn’t told you yet, you’re doing a wonderful job Sanji. Dinner was lovely.”

It made him feel like the same little boy stuck in the North Blue watching his mother eat his food for the first time. The grip you had on him had only tightened since then.

“You know Sanji, every time you cook, I find myself understanding you a bit more.”

Hands plating an intricate dish pause.

“A-ah why do you say that y/n-swan?”

Sanji’s heart seizes as you take one of his hands into yours, fingertips running over callouses and burn scars. An action so tender that for just a moment, Sanji could fool himself into thinking it was the touch of a lover. Your heated gaze focuses on his hands with a look of fondness, it causes him to reel, mind spinning with possibilities of what this could all mean. Did you want this just as much as he did? Did you spend your nights staring at the ceiling and thinking of him like he did with you?

“I understand why you don’t want to fight with your hands. When you cook it’s like a symphony, every movement you take, every dish you make, it’s all meant to nourish and heal. You’re built to love Sanji, not destroy.”

The lump in his throat grows until it’s too painful for him to swallow, edges of his vision blur with tears, threatening to fall. Was he so transparent that you could read him so well? A few words and you had flayed open his very existence, his heart and soul. The words you say mean more than you’ll ever know. His ocean eyes search yours hoping to find an answer to his lingering questions.

BANG

He jumps, the two of you breaking apart at the loud noise, any tension in the room dissipating.

“OIII SANJIII!! LUUUUNCH!!!”

Luffy catapult himself at Sanji, wrapping his limbs around him like an unruly octopus, much to the ire of the chef. Sanji tries to wrestle himself out of Luffy’s grasp, angrily yelling at him.

The loud noise startles you, your heart pounding a mile a minute in your chest. You marinate in the sudden surge of adrenaline for too long before you feel a hand on your wrist. Eyes trace it back to its owner – Zoro. He assesses you for a few seconds.

“You alright?”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Your pulse pounds in every inch of you and your lungs greedily swallow air and hold it in an attempt to calm down. Your thoughts race and you feel the distinct feeling of regret. Regret that you didn’t make a bolder move.

A wobbly smile is the answer Zoro gets, one that makes him frown ever so slightly. The sight makes him rub circles on your wrist with his thumb. The contact soothes you and you’re grateful that you had the swordsman as such an understanding friend. You settle a free hand on his, offering him a brighter smile, hoping to lessen his worries.

“I am.”

The two of you unaware of the pair of eyes that witnessed the scene.

****

Sanji stares from the railing of the Thousand Sunny, the light of the setting sun casts an ethereal rosy light over the glimmering ocean. Pinks, reds, and blues mashing into a myriad of colors that all swirl like glittering gems.

From the upper deck, it isn’t the sun or the ocean that Zoro admires. It’s the glow of the sun on Sanji’s face. His eyes trace the elegant slope of his nose, drinking up the way the sun dyes his fair hair into a strawberry blond. His mouth goes dry, his palms becoming sweatier by the minute. Plucking up some courage, Zoro crosses the distance of the Sunny, stopping next to the object of his desires.

“The sunset is beautiful isn’t it.”

Zoro wants to cut out his tongue. What a lame comment. Sanji deserved better. Someone who could weave him a beautiful tapestry of words, words which don’t even exist in Zoro. After all he is a man of action and not platitudes.

Sanji hums out in agreement, never moving his eyes from the beauty of the scene in front of them.

They don’t talk much, but there’s an easiness to the quiet between them as they watch the sun inch closer into the horizon. The Sunny lurches at a particularly big wave and Sanji is caught off guard, wobbling a little. He’s steadied by a hand on the small of his back.

“Ah, thanks Marimo.”

“No problem, Sanji.”

His name on the swordsman’s lips gives him pause. Zoro almost never calls him by his name. Then he becomes acutely aware that Zoro hasn’t moved his hand, his palm is large and warm on Sanji’s clothed back. The contact is like lightning in his spine and for reasons unknown his heart stutters. He mildly wonders if he should say something, unsure of what the contact means for the two of them.

Deciding his brain feels too stuffed with cotton, Sanji fishes out his lighter and cigarette from his suit jacket pocket, hoping for some clarity in the nicotine. Stupidly, he holds the pack out for Zoro offering him a cigarette, despite knowing the swordsman doesn’t smoke. Before he can rescind the gesture, Zoro’s free hand takes a cigarette from him. Their eyes meet and he finds Zoro’s are unreadable as always. The other man brings the cigarette closer to his face, rolling it in his fingers as he examines the tobacco stick. A laugh huffs out of Sanji’s mouth as he lights his cigarette. He inhales precious smoke, and in the haze of his exhale, his eyes linger a little too long at the sight of the cigarette loosely held in between Zoro’s chapped lips.

“Here let me light it for you.”

Sanji holds the lit lighter out, only for the wind to snuff it. He tries again, flicking the flint a few more times. Each time the wind picks up, extinguishing the flame. A scowl overcomes Sanji’s face.

“Here, we can just-”

Sanji looks up from the lighter at the sound of Zoro’s voice. The other man pulls his hand from Sanji’s lower back and Sanji becomes conscious of the fact that the action leaves him sad at the loss of contact. That’s when he feels the green haired man’s large palm on the back of his neck, searing into his skin as he steadies him. Zoro leans in closer bringing his cigarette to the tip of Sanji’s.

A cigarette kiss.

Sanji’s brain is a mess. ‘It’s just the damn Marimo’ he tries to reason with himself, but he feels heat lick at the apples of his cheeks.

He’s blushing. At Zoro.

The man’s actions have flustered him to his core, tongue too heavy to form words. His eyes soak in the sight of Zoro slowly sucking in – ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, what the fuck?!’ his mind screams at him.

The man offers Sanji no reprieve, continuing his hold on Sanji as he made sure the of his cigarette is lit before breaking apart. Sanji’s world is tilted on its axis, heart pounding so furiously he feels it in his fingertips. He half expects it to burst through his sternum.

Zoro gives an experimental breath before hacking out a loud cough, sound reminiscent of a dying walrus. The scene is so jarring, how the man could go from turning Sanji’s brain into mush to coughing out a lung. It makes him laugh so hard he’s clutching his stomach, abs cramping as he tries to greedily swallow in more air.

It was so Zoro.

Through the tears of laughter, Sanji can see pink dusting Zoro’s face, clearly embarrassed by his lack of experience.

“Take slow inhales, mix it in with some fresh air, it gets easier after a while.”

Sanji’s smile is so wide it hurts his cheeks. He watches Zoro attempt again, the man’s body tensing in an effort to not cough out all the smoke.

“This is horrible Sanji. I don’t know how you do this every day.”

All Sanji can offer the man is a chuckle. He takes in the sight of the swordsman, bathed in the dying light of the sunset, shadows accentuating the strong lines of his face. He’s about to respond when he hears Nami’s voice calling for him.

“Sanji, the bathroom is free if you want to shower!”

He turns, giving her his undivided attention.

“Thank you Nami-chwan! You look especially beautiful after your bath!”

When Sanji turns back, Zoro is no longer facing him instead looking out into the ocean where the last glimmers of the sun fade into the horizon.

“Go ahead and take your bath, cook.”

Sanji manages a nod, feeling odd at the sudden change in attitude. Things had felt so great between them, so what happened? His feet feel heavy as he walks towards the bathroom. Halfway, he doesn’t know why but he spins on his heel, wanting to confront the man.

He wishes he didn’t.

He sees you with Zoro, again.

The two of you huddled close, your hand caressing the swordsman’s cheek. The both of you bathed in the beginnings of moonlight. Sanji’s heart clenches painfully.

It was just like before – Vinsmoke Sanji always comes in last.

****

Things progress at a snail’s pace. Both you and Zoro are seemingly thwarted at every turn whether it be Sanji rejecting your advances or being interrupted in the most inopportune times. A silver lining for Zoro comes in the form of you. Despite being his rival in love, you’re there to pick up the pieces of him, little pep talks flowing from your lips. He hopes that he’s done the same for you. The best of his efforts goes into repairing the shaky smiles on your face, splitting bottles of wine with you as the two of you gripe about love. It’s an odd routine, but one that Zoro finds himself not minding. There is comfort and familiarity in your company.

That was until the crew step foot on Sabaody Archipelago. Everything came to a grinding halt at Sabaody. It was an utter disaster. Not even a foot into the New World and the Grand Line had chewed the crew up and spat them back out.

Panic sets Zoro’s bones the minute he wakes up. Thoughts of his nakama rushing through his brain at breakneck speed. Were you all safe? Did you guys make it off Sabaody? Zoro keenly feels the loss of his crew, guilt seeping into every crack in his heart. If only he had been stronger - strong enough to defeat Bartholomew Kuma on Thriller Bark, strong enough to carry everyone’s dreams on his back.

He spends two days lost in the maze of a castle that weird Ghost Girl brought him to, trying desperately to find his swords. He squashes down the invasive thoughts attempting to claw its way into his mind – were you all even still alive? It doesn’t help that the girl, Perona he finds out is her name, keeps giving him directions that seem to get him lost even further. Frustration bubbles under his skin. He is wholly useless, a feeling that is reaffirmed when he is defeated by the humandrills, his only hope of reaching his friends dashed by his own inadequacy.

When he feels like things couldn’t get worse, he hears about Ace. Zoro wants to scream, to dig his fingers into his chest and rip out his own beating heart. Frustration, fury, despair – it all whirls inside of him for Luffy. How could things have gone so wrong?

Zoro tries hard not to wallow in his sadness. He beats down his pride and grovels to Mihawk, begging the man he wants to defeat one day to teach him, to make him into a man worthy of being called Luffy’s nakama.

Time flows, and slowly but surely, Zoro adapts to his life on the deserted island. Mihawk is a fair teacher and his brutal teaching methods have Zoro progressing faster than even he could admit. Although the lack of alcohol grates on his nerves. Though he would never admit it out loud, Perona isn’t too bad either when she isn’t annoying him.

He spends his days training, eating, and sleeping, a routine that isn’t unfamiliar to him, but his mind remains plagued by the brewing thoughts of you and Sanji.

His mind goes in cycles, starting with hopes that you two are alright. Surely you’re safe, Zoro’s mind doesn’t want to can’t think of the alternative. He wonders if Sanji has found himself on an island with enough food, cold fear nestled in his heart at the idea of the cook going without. He hopes you have extra blankets at night, his mind supplying him images of your shivering body on Drum Island, lips tinged blue.

The months gruel onward and late at night, when the world is silent and his body aches from the brutal beatings from Mihawk, Zoro imagines your soft touches, a comforting hand on his shoulder when things went wrong. He dreams of the bottle of sake he desperately wants to split between you two, talking about any and everything. He wants to see your smile.

On days where the sun blisters in the sky and Mihawk forces him to help with the farming, Zoro wonders if Sanji would be impressed. Would he give Zoro that smug grin of his, telling him to till the farm with appreciation for the food it grew? Would he be brave enough to commandeer Mihawk’s kitchen, lecturing to Zoro the entire time he cooks about how he needs to eat the right macronutrients to gain muscle. Zoro luxuriates in what-if’s and could-be’s, day in and day out.

He spends the hours of sundown to sunrise, staring at the cold grey stone ceiling of the castle pondering in a mire of his own doing. He wanted both of you but was desperate to hold onto what you and him had together, while craving every potential what-if with Sanji.

He stews in his feelings for months, unable to take himself out of his own head.

On a day where Mihawk is away on business, Zoro finds himself in the dining room, sun barely rising into the sky. Perona was nice enough to fix breakfast for the two of them but it only puts Zoro in a worse mood. His body is gripped in nostalgia, heart aching to wake up to the sound of Luffy and Chopper’s chatter in the morning, to pass by a sleep drunk Usopp and Franky grumbling out good mornings, and to make his way to the kitchen and have a plate be handed to him by the star of half his dreams. Increasingly lost in his own thoughts, he’s oblivious to Perona’s pouting.

“Ugh! You’re such a jerk!”

Perona waits a few seconds, giving the mosshead time to come to his senses and apologize but minutes tick by and she finds herself empty handed. In childish anger, her hands slam on the table.

“What the hell? Aren’t you going to thank me for breakfast??”

She is only given a wave, the gesture vaguely dismissal.

“Okay you idiot, what is it? What could possibly be so important that you forget to thank the person who saved your life?”

The question gives Zoro pause. He deliberates in his head a bit, uneasiness mashing in the pit of his stomach. To let someone know about his problems felt too vulnerable, but against his will the words of his dilemma spill out of him like an ugly fountain with fat babies on it, like the ones he saw plastered all over Water 7.

Perona regards him for a few minutes before rolling her eyes.

“You’re not very smart, are you?”

“The fuck?”

“You’re a pirate idiot. Being a pirate means you take what you want, you don’t need to share. So have both, duh. Who says you can’t have a boyfriend and a girlfriend?”

Whiplash. His brain rattles in his skull at Perona’s words. How ridiculous. This is what he gets for telling her his problems. He opens his mouth to tell her off but then the words sink into him.

Both? He could have both?

They were both strong enough to protect themselves, their bounties reflecting their skill, determined enough to pursue their own goals. They, more than anyone on the ship, knew the stakes of his dreams, not once had they ever discouraged him. Plus, the thought of the two of them tangled in a mess of naked limbs beckoning Zoro to join was a particularly tasty thought.

Perona shoots him a smug smile.

“You’re welcome~”

****

Nerves rattle through your body as you disembark from the small sailboat, steered by the kind martial arts master that found you two years ago. The elderly woman pats your hand in reassurance.

“Don’t worry dearie, I’m sure your boys are waiting for you. Now you make sure you stay safe and don’t forget to always pack a scarf.”

You give her a bright smile.

“Thank you so much, for everything. I’ve learned so much! Please make sure you tell everyone I got here alright.”

The woman matches your smile before waving you off. Excited feet don’t hesitate to quickly wander down Sabaody, taking you down semi familiar paths. You count the grove numbers in your head, excitement gripping your stomach as you finally arrive.

Grove 13.

The sight of the wooden sign of Shakky’s Rip-Off Bar shoots fresh nerves into your veins, anticipation ripe in your head. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves before you push open the door to the bar.

Your eyes skim over the empty chairs and booths, finally settling on a green clad figure at the bar. Time slows and your heart threatens to burst out of your sternum, you can feel your pulse in your ear, not even hearing his name tumble out of your lips. The sight of him makes tears sting the corners of your eyes.

Zoro.

His signature three swords are still affixed to his side, hilts glinting in the low light of the establishment. A head turn makes the three golden strands of his earrings collide into each other. He stands tall and proud, two years of effort reflected in his new silhouette. You run to him, finding half of everything you had missed in the last two years in his hug. Tears run down your cheeks, absorbed by the green of his outfit, staining the fabric dark. You can’t bring yourself to care.

He still smells like steel and sea salt.

He presses a kiss to your hair, his large hands rubbing circles on your back as he pulls you closer to his chest. After seconds that feel too short, you part from him. You soak in the sight of his familiar features. Your eyes trace over the new scar over his eye, the strong line of his jaw, the slight bump in his nose. Hands wander up his biceps and you can’t help but ghost your fingertips over the newly acquired scars present on exposed skin. Fingers smooth over every part of him, his wide chest, his corded arms, all of it – desperate to memorize him after these years apart.

Lost in the moment, you miss the way Rayleigh and Shakky sharing a knowing smile.

Fingers interlaced, you let Zoro lead you to his room at a small bed and breakfast in Grove 17. You aren’t even mad when he gets lost twice, taking you down a winding path to Grove 7 instead. You missed this, the idiosyncrasies that come with living with someone, spending every waking hour together.

Once in the room you let your small bucket bag tumble to the floor. You wait patiently until Zoro has a chance to take off his katanas before you throw yourself into his arms again, the two of you tumbling into the small bed. His entire presence offers you a familiar comfort. He felt like home. You can tell he feels the same, the way he holds you tightly, as if you would disappear from his arms at any moment. He buries his nose into your hair and his chest moves from under you as he inhales. The two of you stay like that for several minutes, the silence finally being broken by Zoro.

“Y/n, I don’t want to be without you.”

Shivers shoot down your spine.

“What about Sanji?”

“Him too. We’re pirates y/n, we take what we want.”

You bury your face deeper into his muscular chest, heart fluttering in your own chest.

“Good, I don’t know what I’d do without my two boy toys.”, your words come out muffled and you can feel the vibrations as Zoro chuckles.

Lifting your head, you give him a lascivious grin. His eyes are as intense as ever, but you find that this time around you can pin down the emotions within because they’re the same as yours.

Your lips meet his in a kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to accept. His lips are warm and chapped, a combination you quickly find yourself addicted to. Your arms move on their own, snaking around his neck as his wrap around your waist, bringing you in closer to him. The both of you move feverishly, desperate to make sure this moment didn’t evaporate into the ether. His kiss is hungry, ferocity over taking you before he seems to rein it back in. He coaxes out a whimper from you as his hands wander to your bottom before pulling your hips in close to his, letting you straddle his waist. You let out a gasp as you feel his hardness grinding on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. Utilizing the last braincell that isn’t drenched in hormones, you place a placating hand on his chest.

“Patience. Not without Sanji.”

To your surprise he is in agreeance with you, but he gives you a devilish grin all the same.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t get to kiss what’s mine.”

Laughter peels out of you, as Zoro smashes his lips into the crook of your neck, biting and sucking the sensitive flesh in a manner that was both ticklish and sensual.

“You’re right, it doesn’t.”

****

Sanji doesn’t know what to think. Reality was, he saw this was coming, the signs glaring at him two years ago.

You and Zoro were together.

The whole crew seemed to know it too.

“Yohohoho! They’re quite a handsome couple, don’t you agree Miss. Robin?”

“They do complement each other quite well.”

Everyone has seen the two of you look at each other, shooting puppy eyes at the dinner table, and of course Sanji is distinctly aware of the way Zoro takes your small hands into his, a rogue thumb tracing idle circles into your smooth skin. It’s all too intimate for two people who are “just crewmates”.

Sanji’s heart is broken, shattered into a million tiny pieces and he doesn’t know where to begin to put it all back together. He was an utter fool for having clung onto hope for two years, spending his days daydreaming about how the pieces would all fall into place, the two of you accepting his confessions of undying love.

Stupid, stupid Sanji.

The voices of his past mock him. How could anyone love stupid Sanji. How silly of you to even dream. Nestled in the sicker part of his brain, he wonders who he’s more jealous of – you or Zoro.

It should be him, his jealousy addled self whispers to him in the dead of night but Sanji knows it’s his fault for even daring to dream. The two of you were better off together. So, every day, he wakes up, chokes down the feelings that threaten to well up inside of him, and continue as if nothing was wrong.

He had been doing it well enough for the last twenty odd years, what’s the harm in a few more?

****

It doesn’t take long for an opportunity to present itself to you and Zoro.

The Sunny docks on a small island to restock on basic supplies and through divine intervention the stars align. Zoro catches the last vestiges of Sanji’s conversation with Nami, picking up the tidbit that he would come back to the ship immediately after he procured fresh meat and produce. Taking his chance, he offers himself and you up for guard duty, a move that garners no protest or suspicion.

After the crew clears out, the anxiety builds in your chest, your head spins and your palms feel clammy as the minutes pass by. Zoro doesn’t say it, but you could tell he felt the same, his rough fingers constantly flitting over the hilt of his katanas. You and Zoro split a bottle of sake for liquid courage, downing it like teenagers instead of passing it along at your usual leisurely pace. The sake helps a bit, dulling down the feelings.

The two of you are on the upper deck when you hear the click of expensive dress shoes on wood. Peeking, you spy Sanji’s golden hair as he reboards the ship. You signal Zoro with a nod of your head. The two of you break, Zoro to the kitchen to fetch Sanji and you to the women’s dormitory. Long strides quickly lead you to where you need to be, settling down on the blue comforter of your bed.  

In the midst of fiddling with a loose thread on one of your sheets, you hear the door open. Nerves tingle through your body as you see Sanji’s figure enter.

“A-ah y/n-swan! Marimo said you needed help with something?”

He takes a few strides, standing at the foot of the bed you were sitting on. The door clicks as Zoro shuts it behind him. Sanji sucks in a breath, suddenly feeling trapped in this confined space, anxiety pooling in his stomach.

“O-oh! Well Sanji you see… Um, w-well we..”

You bite your lips, fingers picking at the skin near your nails, something Sanji picks up on. He can’t help the prickling of curiosity in the back of his brain. What got you, the very definition of calm and collected, so nervous?

“We want you, Sanji.”

It’s Zoro this time, the timber of his voice nearly reverberating in his bones as he becomes aware of how close the man stands behind him. You nod in agreeance.

Sanji’s brain short-circuits.

What?

Did he hear that right? You both wanted him?

Sanji searches your face for any inkling of deception but your cheeks are flush and you avoid his eyes out of nervousness.

“Don’t over think this.” Zoro murmurs into his ear, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin. The other man’s large hands come from behind him and roam on his chest, going over the silky fabric of his suit. The action pulls him in closer to Zoro, sending shivers up his spine. It doesn’t take long for Sanji to make up his mind.

So be it.

He’ll take whatever scraps you have to offer him. Maybe if he gets a taste, it’ll be out of his system, and he’ll be free to pursue all the beautiful men and women he encounters in his travels. Maybe if he closes his eyes, he can imagine that this is something more than just sex.

He continues to feed himself the shallow lies.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

At his affirmation, Sanji feels hand on his head, turning him into a hungry kiss. Chapped lips meet his and Sanji can faintly taste the sweetness of sake on Zoro’s breath. It’s everything Sanji has dreamed of. In the midst of their kiss, Sanji feels your hands undoing his tie, and unbuttoning his jacket and dress shirt. An impatient tongue spears into his mouth, coaxing his own tongue into a dance, drawing a moan from the blond man. A hot tongue presses into his neck and he can’t help the gasp that rises to his lips. In contrast to Zoro, your lips are soft and silky. You stamp fire into his skin with every kiss, setting his body into flames.

Breathless, he breaks the kiss with Zoro only to have you pull him into another one, gentler but no less voracious.

He’s aware of Zoro helping him shed his shirt and jacket, but his head feels stuffed with cotton, not quite to registering any of it. A soft tongue mingles with Sanji’s and delicate hands caress the bare skin of his chest, each movement leaving gooseflesh in its wake. The light flicks to his nipples have him groaning into your mouth. The kiss breaks with a soft sigh from you, and Zoro surges forward to capture you a playful kiss, sandwiching Sanji between the two of you. The friction of the two bodies, one soft and one sturdy, melts his mind, his pants feeling tighter by the moment.

A larger rougher set of hands replace the soft ones on his chest as you kneel in front of Sanji, making quick work of his belt. You lavish his abs with floaty kisses and occasional playful nibbles, following down the trail of soft downy hair until you reach his boxers. You make quick work of that too, freeing his erection.

You nearly drool of the sight Sanji’s cock slapping against his belly, marking a spot on his belly with shiny precum. His cock is picturesque, like the men of the dirty magazines you used to buy as a teenager, a few shades darker than his porcelain skin leading into a dusky pink tip oozing slick. You give an experimental lick up the shaft before engulfing the tip in your mouth, making circles over it with your tongue. Sanji throws his head back, gracing you with a breathy pretty groan.

The salty taste of his precum ignites a fire deep in you, a need to taste more overcomes every sense. Driven by your baser instincts, you press down further, taking as much as you could until you feel him hit the back of your throat, eyes welling with tears as you try to stave off your gag reflex. His delicate fingers tangle into your hair, hands resting on your head. Pressed so close to Sanji his pubic hair tickles your lips and you can smell the clean rich sandalwood of his soap. You set a slow pace, looking up through dark lashes to observe Sanji’s expressions as he loses himself in the feeling of your mouth. Each circle of your tongue over the tip has him whimpering, his cheeks and chest flushed pink.

Not to be left out, Zoro joins you, kneeling in front of the blond man. You release his cock with a pop and stroke it lightly.

“Want a taste?”

Zoro gives a devilish smirk, coming in closer. He gives the tip kitten licks before slowly taking more of the length in his mouth.

“Tastes good doesn’t it?”

A muffled response has you grinning. You take a few moments take your own clothes off, only stopping to appreciate the sight of Zoro pouring his attention to Sanji’s cock. The contrast of the two men bubbles excitement in you, a longing finally quenched. Zoro is all muscle, posture and stance reflecting power and brutality, but Sanji’s is refined elegance, fluid even while motionless, muscles seemingly sculpted by a maestro.

Kneeling back down, you throw yourself into the fray of saliva and skin, taking one of Sanji’s balls into your mouth, earning a loud groan from the man. The two males’ intermingling musk cloying in your head, fogging up any thought you could muster. Sanji’s hips buck and Zoro gags, pulling another moan from the blond. You slowly suckle, running circles on the surface of his ball sack with your tongue before releasing it to lick up the shaft. Zoro meets you in a messy kiss with Sanji’s cock in the middle of two pairs of lips. Your tongues dance over the veiny surface of Sanji’s dick, occasionally skimming each other.

Sanji wants to throw his head back, to lose himself in the sensation of two mouths lavishing him with attention but he’s caught up in the sight of you and Zoro, your tongues fighting on his cock, hoping to find more skin to lick and suck at. The two of you work in synch, soon moving upward to suckle at the reddened tip of his cock.

“S-stop or I’ll cum” Sanji whines out, making you and Zoro share a laugh, shifting away from his sensitive cock to find each other in a kiss.

Feeling emboldened by the sexually charged energy, you saunter over to the bed, sitting and spreading your legs wide open. Sanji practically drools at the sight, stumbling over the clothes on the floor to get in closer.

Sanji slots himself between your legs, moving closer to kiss you. His lips are soft, and the hints of lingering tobacco pull you in for more. Sanji’s tender affection is a deluge you drown in, heart full you reciprocate keenly. He peppers kisses down your jawline before interspersing tender open mouth kisses on your neck. A hot tongue trails down further before capturing a nipple between his teeth. His actions are delicate, but they draw whimpers out of you, heat pooling between your thighs at the teasing. Sanji’s strong hands cup your breasts, massaging softly as his tongue runs circles around your hard nipples, dousing them in messy suckles.

He offers the same treatment to your other breast before trailing more kisses down until his head is settled between your thighs. You can feel his hot breath, a gossamer on your sensitive skin. The flat of his tongue licks a stripe through your folds and your back arches at the contact.

“Fuck angel, you’re so wet” he murmurs before diving back in, tongue working through your folds before encircling your clit.

“Mm fuck Sanji”, moans pour out of you endlessly, your hands tangling themselves in the golden silk of his hair.

His strong hands hold your hips steady as he begins to suckle at your clit, giving occasional kitten licks, as anticipated, the action has you bucking your hips, thighs tightening around his head as he tightens the coil in your loins, nerves dancing on fire.

Zoro’s calloused hands run over Sanji’s torso, earning a shiver from the man. His fingertips take time to appreciate the valley of muscles before moving to his hips, propping them up into position. Sanji is a mess of gooseflesh as rough fingers part his cheeks, exposing him to the other man. A hot tongue presses on his hole and Sanji lets out a gasp that’s muffled in your skin. The sensation is foreign as the tongue wriggles against his tight hole, but pleasure quickly finds him. Zoro’s tongue circles around his puckered hole, massaging and working the muscle, each move deliberate in driving Sanji further into a chasm of pleasure until he’s relaxed. Zoro intersperses it with licks from the flat of his tongue, the contrast drawing out whimpering moans from the blond. When he pulls away, Sanji whines.

“Get these wet for me.”

Sanji complies, taking his head out from your cunt to take Zoro’s digits in his mouth, tongue running over each individual one. Zoro grins at the sight of Sanji desperately sucking on his fingers while his goatee shines with your slick.

A whine from you has Zoro withdrawing his fingers from the other man’s hot mouth, allowing him to return to your needy hole.

Sanji returns to lavishing your clit with licks, before plunging a tongue deep in you hoping to taste more of your essence. Pressure against his puckered hole pauses him in the middle of his pussy eating. Your thighs tighten around him as you buck desperately against his mouth, hoping to find more friction despite his lack of action.

The breech of a large finger pulls a sound out of him, a mixture of a moan and a scream. You offer your own moan at the vibrations of Sanji’s on your clit.

Zoro presses kisses onto the skin of his buttocks, rubbing soothing circles on his skin as Sanji adjusts to the foreign intrusion. Slowly, he begins to rock his finger back and forth, occasionally stopping to spit on Sanji’s hole, an action that has the man’s dick twitching.

“Don’t worry Sanji he’ll be gentle. Won’t you marimo?” you tease, tone breathy from your own arousal at seeing Zoro knuckle deep in Sanji.

“We’ll see about that.”

Sanji turns to tell Zoro off, but the aforementioned man’s free hand grabs his head, shoving him back into your cunt, earning a squeal from you.

“Focus Sanji” Zoro gravels out, voice thick with lust. You snake your legs around Sanji’s head, heels resting on his mid back.

“He’s right Sanji, wanna cum so bad”

As if to demonstrate your need, your hips buck into his open mouth, hoping to find a tongue to grind into. Ever the gentleman, Sanji grants your request, eating you out with renewed vigor.

Zoro continues to work his fingers into him, one finger becomes two, pumping becomes scissoring, and soon Sanji feels more stretched out than possible. Sanji lets out loud moan after moan into your clit when he feels the man continuously brush his prostate. His mouth is messy with saliva and your slick, jaw aching as he continues to devour you. You reward him with looks from dark lashes glimmering with tears, your soft skin flushed by his ministrations. Pretty whines of his name spill out from your lips, urging him on as you chase your high. Your fingers clench onto his hair, the pain from the pulling mixing with the shockwaves that Zoro’s fingers provide him.

“A-ah right there S-sanji!”

Your tighten your legs around Sanji, a loud wail escaping you, hands fisting the blankets underneath as the coil in your belly snaps. Your orgasm wracks your body, vision going dark and heartbeat in your ear. Sanji’s tongue doesn’t stop, sending pins and needles through your nerves. Tears dot the corners of your eyes as he eats your overstimulated pussy out until you’re crying his name, begging him to stop. When he relents, you pull him into a kiss, tasting your own salty juices on his lips. You swipe your fingers over his messy slick shined lips and chin, offering them to Zoro who sucks on them with enthusiasm before letting go with a pop of his mouth.

You shimmy out from under Sanji, the blond pushing himself to all fours to offer you more space. Moving off to the side, you take in the sight of Zoro greedily pumping three fingers into Sanji who’s offering himself up like a dog in heat, whimpers pouring out of his mouth. Sanji’s dick is standing tall, precum dribbling out from the tip and onto the bedsheets where you can already spy a dark wet stain forming. You wrap a hand around his cock, thumb smearing the precum as you begin to pump up and down at a torturous pace. Sanji’s head buries into the bed as he lets out a string of expletives. You and Zoro share a naughty grin.

It doesn’t take long for Sanji to start moving his hips, desperately fucking himself into Zoro’s fingers trying to plunge deeper.

Zoro pulls out of him, and you take your hand off of his cock, Sanji is left whining at the loss of contact.

He isn’t left alone for long as Zoro pushes him into the bed before flipping him around so he’s on his back. Zoro devours the sight of Sanji’s hair pooling around him in a radiant halo, his cheeks flushed pink and dick twitching for attention. You come back and pass Zoro a bottle, lowering yourself to take the man’s dick in your mouth. Sanji’s eyes are glued to the sight of you bobbing your head along the impressive length of the swordsman. He watches as Zoro’s eye closes, clearly enjoying the way you’re taking all of him in. It isn’t long before the swordsman pulls you up and into a kiss.

Jealousy grips Sanji’s heart. Brook was right, the two of you were a beautiful couple.

You take the bottle from Zoro and pour out a viscous liquid onto your fingers, soaking them in it before wrapping it around Zoro’s cock, wetting him with long strokes.

“Fuc-k babe that feels good”

You offer Zoro one final kiss, a mischievous hand coming to smack the swordsman’s bottom sending him on his way to Sanji.

Zoro slots himself between Sanji’s legs, wrapping his hands around his ankles before yanking him, moving him closer to the edge of the bed. For the first time Sanji’s cock presses into Zoro’s and it twitches in excitement, the blond shudders at the contact. Zoro captures his lips into a kiss and Sanji loses himself in it. Sea salt and steel invade his senses, wiping his mind blank of every thought. Rough hands find their way to his slender hips, rubbing circles along the bone. Slim smaller fingers press against his hole, taking time to slather him in the same viscous liquid.

When Zoro breaks the kiss, Sanji opens his eyes, taking in the sight of the swordsman on top of him.

“You ready?”

He isn’t, but Sanji nods.

The blunt tip of Zoro’s cock on his hole startles him, and for the first time he begins to wonder how in the fuck he’s supposed to take all of it inside of him.

Then the push comes, a groan is ripped from his chest as Zoro breaches his tight hole for the first time. Sanji feels panic well inside of him. He’s going to be torn in two, there’s no doubt about it. The blond squirms in discomfort, and you’re quick to notice, kissing his tears away, interlacing your fingers with his.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby. You’re doing so good, such a good boy for us”

Zoro takes it at Sanji’s pace, allowing the blond to adjust to the stretch. One hand steadies his hip and the other strokes his calf, bringing it closer so the green haired man can press kisses into the pale skin.

Through the pain and panic, Sanji finds himself delusional. With his eyes closed and brain shut off, he imagines this is what it would be like to be loved by the both of you, drowning him in sweet nothings, soft kisses, and praises of what a good boy he is.

It takes a deliberate amount of self-control for Zoro to inch in slowly, the sight of Sanji’s greedy hole swallowing his shaft has anticipation pumping through his veins. He finds himself resisting the urge to pin the blond down and ravage him right there, to stretch his hole out so fully that it molds itself to the shape of Zoro’s cock and his alone. It isn’t long before he finds himself full sheathed, Sanji clenching around his dick, sending mind numbing pleasure into Zoro.  

He holds him there, offering more time to adjust as he holds the blond’s hips steady. Letting go of Sanji’s hand, you happily move into the mix of bodies, sitting on top of Sanji, a hand guiding his length into you. As the tip of his dick enters you, Sanji throws his head back, wailing into his fist as he tries to quiet himself. Slowly, you sink into his length, engulfing him with tight searing heat. You’re tighter than he expected. You lean back, pressing your back into Zoro’s muscle bound chest as you turn to give him a kiss. He moans into your mouth as your tongues meld into each other.

In need of friction, you start a slow pace, moving up and down on Sanji’s length.

“F-fuck, oh my fucking g-god, feels ‘sgood” Sanji slurs out, tongue lolling and mind blank.

Zoro pulls from your kiss to start pumping into Sanji, ever impatient he fucks the blond with aggression. Unabashedly, the swordsman lets out a groan at the feeling, Sanji gripping his cock like a vise.

“Yer so fucking tight for me babe”

The blond isn’t shy about making noises, screams and moans mixing together as they leave his mouth. Zoro’s finger’s dig into the man’s hips to gain more purchase as he thrusts particularly deep, punching the air out of Sanji’s lungs, his legs spasming as Zoro jabs into his prostate. His body seizes, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he babbles out nonsense.

Sanji can’t think, he can barely breath with Zoro’s cock bullying him out of air only for your tight pussy to greedily clench, only allowing him short gasps of breath. He loses himself entirely in the feeling of being thoroughly used by the two of you, drool leaking out of the side of his mouth as eyes stare unfocused.

Sanji’s dick curves and hits the most sensitive parts of you, brushing along your g-spot as you bounce up and down on him, desperately chasing your own high.

“S-sanji, your cock f-feels so good baby”

Your words begin to slur as you feel the beginnings of an orgasm gather in your loins.

Sanji is the first to cum, letting out a loud wail as he bucks his hips upward, shooting his cum deep inside of you. The feeling of his warm cum flooding you makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, you keep riding him through his orgasm, oversensitive cock still hard as you grind down on it, losing yourself in the pleasure of his spongy dick tip grinding into your cervix. Zoro’s hand snakes around your hips, fingers pinching and rolling your clit, sending fireworks of pleasure into your spine, you hold onto Sanji, nails digging deep. Zoro’s thrusts get deeper, rocking you and Sanji. His breathing is choppy, moans spilling out of his lips as Zoro chases his own high.

Fireworks burst behind your eyelids as you feel the orgasm wrack your body, tears gathering in your eyes as your moan stutters in your throat. Sanji whimpers as your pussy milks his oversensitive cock for more cum. Zoro’s arm wraps around your waist and the other on Sanji’s thigh as he pulls both of you closer, the coil buried deep in his belly threatening to snap. He picks up the pace, relentlessly hammering inside of Sanji, the movement causing Sanji’s dick to rub the sensitive tissue of your cervix, gushing out the cum deep inside of you. The tight friction of Sanji’s hole is delicious as Zoro gives the last few pumps before burying himself as deep as possible in the blond, head resting on the crook of your neck as he came. His loud groan is muffled in your skin, stars shoot across his vision as he paints Sanji’s walls white, belly clenching as he slowly rocks the last vestiges of his orgasm out.

The three of you fall on the bed in a mess of limbs, sweat, and body fluids. You’re out of it until you feel an arm wrapping around you, hazily recognizing it as Zoro’s, bringing you and Sanji closer to him. You press yourself into his side, craving the comfort of his embrace. Your head rests on his wide chest listening to the pounding heartbeat as he presses a kiss into your sweaty hairline.

Zoro’s heart feels full as he watches his two lovers, fully sated and thoroughly fucked, resting in his arms, the trust they put in him is implicit.

The peace is broken when Sanji breaks out of the embrace, getting out of the bed picking up pieces of various strewn about clothing. The action startles you and Zoro out of your post orgasm glow, the two of you sharing a confused look.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

Zoro’s voice cuts through Sanji’s soul. Steeling himself, he looks up at the two of you, still wrapped around each other, clearly comfortable - a comfort Sanji can’t indulge in lest he lose more of his heart.

“Ah. Well, I figured you guys had your fun, right?” he weakly chuckles.

The silence is deafening.

“No need for me to linger while you tw-“

“Sanji when we said we wanted you we meant all of you. You mean more to us than just sex, we adore you.”

His body tenses in surprise, the shock written all over his face.

Zoro leans forward, grabbing Sanji’s hand to pull him back into the mess of limbs.

“C’mere and cuddle us Sanji.”

Sanji sinks into the cuddle, hungry heart full for the first time in a long time.

©2023 lyriumcoloredskies do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[mrs-willow]

"A Raven and a Falcon" benji x oc

Disclaimer: I am not familiar with the Dance of Dragons books or the accurate storyline, so I have decided to change it to fit this story. I could not find an exact or reliable family tree for either House Blackwood or House Arryn, so I just made my own characters.  

The dance never actually happens!!! Viserys doesn’t die until he reaffirms Rhaenyra as his heir, and after that big family dinner, Rhaenyra returns on Dragon back, and she and Alicent talk out everything. There are mutual apologies, tears, laughter, and everyone lives. 

This is a sappy slow burn with angst, fluff, smut later, and everything I make up when I disassociate.  

This is literally my first post on here or any other website, so please be nice. I am writing this solely for my own enjoyment… there needs to be more Benjicot Blackwood material on this app.  However, I would still love feedback, and if there is something that you think would add to the story, message me, and I’ll see what I can do. 

Summary: Lady Lillian of the House Arryn reaches her eight and ten in a fortnight and has yet to be wed or promised to another Lord. After returning from Kings Landing for the coronation of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, she is informed of her Father and brother's plans to wed her to a man she has only seen glimpses of and whose reputation is insanity and bloodlust. Lillian learns to love this new stranger, or will she be forced into a life of loneliness and solitude and made to produce heirs until she dies?

Warnings: smut (later), blood, violence, cursing, period typical sexism, alternating POVs, (idk lmk if I should add more stuff)

Chapter 1

As Caelan strode through the corridors of the Eyrie he pondered the rumors of the castle being haunted just as Harenhall is. The man had grown up running through these halls with his siblings, escaping the septas and playing games of war and duels, and yet he could not remember the strange sound of wind whistling through the columns and doorways, creating the strange feeling that someone was trying to speak with you. That fate awaits one as one grows from boy to man. 

Caelans riding boots echo on the dark stone as he makes his way to the Arryn family's apartments. The decorations adorning the walls turn from mosaic replicas of the vast mountain range the Castle was built in, with striking figures of falcons soaring through twenty-foot billowing clouds to soft tapestries displaying a man, his wife, and four beaming blonde children. Metalwork of falcons and moons adorns the tall arches of doorways, and vases of flows rode in from the reach sit colorfully in vases. 

This deep into the castle, the man and the flowers are protected from the harsh rain and winds whipping through the outermost corridors and open rooms. Still, as he enters Lord Arryns personal study, Caelan finds all four hearths of the great room lit as the aging man cannot escape the chill of a month's travel on the King's Road during winter.

At the sound of someone entering the great room, the old man looks up from the pages he had previously been contemplating. It's funny how a few words can cause so much stress. Robert Arryn was a kind man, loved by his bannerman, and respected in court and on the battlefield. His Knights of the Vale were among the fiercest armies in the Seven Kingdoms and were recently praised by the new Queen Rhaenyra when Robert matched them south as a show of support for the true Queen and a warning for those who mean to harm her. Among his Knights, the Seasnakes Armada, the Blackwood host, and the Northmen showed formidable support for their true queen. Yet, Robert is no longer a twenty-year-old man poised for battle and all manner of foolish, daring adventures, and this long trip has taken its toll on the man's bones.

He muttered as he met his son at the table. 

“The realms delight should’ve lived up to the title and held the coronation in spring to spare all us old men the pain of the cold set into our bones.” 

The young man subtly rolled his eyes away from his disgruntled father. “If you had listened to my warnings of the rain while on horseback, perhaps you would not be in such discomfort, Father,” Caelan teased with a small smirk. 

Robert sent the young man his most fearsome glare, “I will not be laughed at in my own home, boy. Now go get your father a pelt so he might not freeze to death in the damn winter.” 

Calan rose, joking that the “bloody Starks are always right at some point. Winter is Here.” 

The two men sat side by side momentarily, gazing into the crackling fire. One old man sat grateful that he had not been called to fight another war, “so much death and cruelty in the world,” he thought, “thank the old gods and the new that my children will not know war.” The younger man sat gazing at the flames, contemplating his father's reasons for calling him here at such a late hour with the castle all but asleep. His mind immediately drifted to the worst reasons for the summoning, and he prayed his worries would soon be eased when his Lord Father stopped being such a dramatic old crow.

“Father, why have you summoned me at such an odd hour?” Caelan questioned. The man knew better than to press his father for answers and thus sat patiently like a little boy waiting for his father's commands. 

Robert sighed. He then rose and retrieved the papers he had been studying when Caelan first arrived in the study. Wordlessly, Robert handed the letter to his son and resumed his place at the table, once again falling silent.

As Caelan reads the letter addressed to Lord Robert Arryn of the Vale, the reality of getting older becomes present and clear as the childhood he once knew begins to fade into blurry memories filled with love and laughter.

Caelan reaches his father's eyes, “Lillian is to be…” he pauses and lets his father's eyes answer his question. 

“She is to be Married,” Robert affirms. “She is nearly ten and eight; the time has come, and it would do her more harm than good to shelter her here until it truly is impossible for us to let her go or her to let us.”

Caelan leans back in the oversized chair he adorns, “She will be livid,” he warns his father. 

“Aye,” Robert agrees, “but that is the way of things and she cannot hide in these mountains forever.” 

“Father, I agree, but truly to that man?” Caelan questions. “You cannot possibly think that giving Lillian to a psycho would be wise?”

“Mind your tongue, boy,” Robert warns. “His father is one of my oldest friends and closest allies.” Robert reminds his emotional Son.

“Yes, of course, but that does not discredit the news we hear of his son. We mu-”

Robert rose swiftly from his chair, “I will hear none of this. Samwell Blackwood and I were raised side by side. We learned to shoot, ride, and wield swords together, and I trust that the man I grew up with raised a son who is equally honorable and just as he is.”

Caelan slumped forward, defeated. “At least allow me to inform her of this change to her life?” the man asked. “She will be more forgiving if it comes from me rather than you.”

Robert sighed. He felt pride swell in his breast for his eldest son and his three younger children. He was proud to have raised them in a manner that made them friends and confidants rather than enemies. He knew then and there that his eldest son would be equally loved and honored as Lord of the Vale when death came for him. 

“I will allow it, but it must be done in the morning. She will leave the day following her name day.” 

“Thank you, father. If I may retire to my chambers, I sense tomorrow will be a trying day.” 

Robert raised his hand and bid his son a good night, then called after him, “Caelan? Please tell her that I’m sorry.”

Caelan paused and sighed, “Father, you must tell her this yourself. Soon, she will no longer be a short walk from your own chamber.”

With that, the heir to House Arryn headed back toward his chambers and noticed that the howling in the halls sounded sweater, slightly more musical and feminine.

Back in the study, Lord Arryn stood in front of the hearth in contemplation. He reminisced about the times his family was still whole and couldn’t help but feel that he was chipping away yet another piece of his soul in allowing his daughter to leave the safety of her family.   

[biteofcherry]

Happy Wetnessday 💦

I think it's time for some King Steve, don't you? Here's a little this or that for your life with him:

modern day or medieval times

arranged marriage or king falling for "peasant"

summer or winter solstice wedding

castle in the nature or city centre

reads to you before bed or cuddles by the fireplace

No matter what you choose he's completely smitten and can't let his hands off you.

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

STEEVIE 🥹💖 back in my arms ❤️

And King Steve on top of it? You spoil me, Wetnessday Anon! Thank you!

I'd pick medieval times, because I'm in deep need of wearing beautiful gowns daily, not just for shmancy galas. Also more forests and fields than skyscrapers and yelling car drivers. Besides, I want Steve with a sword, not just some ceremonial stick 😎

While I love me some romantic falling for who you shouldn't be with, I was never actually fond of such drastic class difference romance? Idk, I always thought of them to be bullshit in the making and maintaining 😂 How about we mix it up a bit? An arranged marriage, but not with a Princess equal to Steve's status, but perhaps a daughter/sister of a knight who was Steve's very loyal, close friend, but after death you'd be left with no protection and possibly some nasty distant uncle would claim all everything and decide on your marriage. So Steve arranges for your marriage to him, to protect you. And no one would dare make any claims on you and your dowry when the king himself has taken you.

The castle is built on a hill, overlooking the grounds below and the wide, blue ribbon of river crossing right next to it. There are fields and forests around; a long main road with hawthorns growing on both sides and blooming beautifully in spring.

Steve is absolutely wonderful. Your marriage may have happened due to his strong sense of duty and protectiveness, but he doesn't close his heart on the love that blooms between you two. He's absolutely smitten and most doting. Sometimes he will read out to you some formal replies, seeking your opinion, and sometimes you will visit him when he reads piles of letters, requests and reports. You'd pick one of the letters and read it in a silly, mocking voice to make Steve laugh. But one of your favorite ways to spend time with Steve alone, with no duties to fulfill, is to be in his arms as you sit by the fireplace, drinking some mead or wine and just enjoying the quiet, or some hushed intimate conversation.

Though you also love to go on rides with him. Especially in winter, when you're bundled in most lush coat lined with fur and Steve holds you in his embrace as you sit in front of him on his horse. Winter rides remind you of your winter wedding. How the light from the torches stuck in the snow reflected in the frosty layer as you were lead through the courtyard. The evergreens weaved into your hair, as a symbol for the solstice, white gold of the stunning jewelry you were gifted as brilliant as the sparkling snow. Steve awaited you at the bottom of the stairs and then, hand holding yours, lead you up and into the main hall where you were married.

It's also on winter solstice that you give birth to your first child (and Steve gets so happy drunk on mead he forgets you're married and asks you to be his queen 😆)

[dani-luminae]

Here's a more minor gripe with 'Wish' I haven't seen anyone else talk about: ppl like to say "Magnifico built Rosas so he can do whatever he wants with the wishes!" but like... did he? actually build it I mean. Cause it sounds more like he put a castle on a rock and went "come live here and give me your wishes!" and that's not actually *building* a kingdom.

The people built their homes and established their careers and jobs. They're the ones who built everything that ties them to this kingdom (so they can't *just leave!!!!!* like Magnifico defenders keep saying). And Magnifico knows it! He relies on the people for power! That's why he captures them all at the end!

Like IDK. maybe that sounds like a reach but every time I see that argument I'm thinking 'did he magically assemble every home and building?' and if it answered that in the movie I missed it.

I've wondered the same honestly. A king and a kingdom is nothing without the people who inhabit it.

Magnifico relies entirely on the people for the power that he holds onto so tight. He needs them to rely on him, promising that one day he will grant their wishes, when they deserve it - which keeps them from leaving the kingdom, but also because this is their home and livelihood. He wants to be powerful and adored and can't handle being questioned even benignly when his people are worried about a threat that he exaggerates in order to scare them into giving any possible information about it.

Even when he's imprisoned all the wishes and knows that crushing them can give him even more power, he still refuses to let any of the citizens leave Rosas. (For what? I have to wonder. Does he think he can get more wishes out of them? Is he scared they might run off and find someone else in the world capable of fighting him?)

And I don't think that the movie actually explains much about the origins of Rosas. We have Asha's introduction and then a brief bit from King Magnifico about the 'values' of the kingdom, and all it says is that he founded Rosas; but that wording is vague enough that "put a castle on a rock and went "come live here and give me your wishes!" could actually be completely correct.

[lesssial]

Trying to figure out the year in Bram's/Fyodor's Backstory

So what I'm looking at is Vlad the impaler's timeline along with a few hints in the manga. But not much Dracula because I haven’t read the book, and also because the book takes place about 400 years later.

So the castle that Bram lived in, for people who don't know, is an actual castle in Transylvania Romania named Bran.

Basic info

-Bran castle was built between 1377 and 1388. (Vlad the impaler never set foot in it but Dracula lived there.)

-Vlad III ruled Wallachia

-Vlad the impaler / Vlad III lived from 1431-1476 (He was defeated by the ottomans not Romans and his head was shipped to Constantinople/Istanbul)

-Vlad III’s reigns; 1448 (For a few months), 1456-62, and 1476-77.

It is a bit hard to truly connect to two while they ruled two different regions (Transylvania & Wallachia)

The knights

In this panel, we can get a look of the types of armor these knights wore.

The majority of the helmets resemble a barbute helmet which was used in the 15th century

The rectangular shields (scutum) mostly disappeared by the end of the 3rd century

Mainly spears and Halberds (The spear ax things) with an occasional sword in the crowd of knights. (Spears were cheaper at the time)

The full body armor became popular between 1400-1500s.

Byzantine empire fell in 1453 while the holy roman empire fell in the 1800s.

What nation are the knights from?

This is the main question. Are these knights from the Holy Roman empire? The Byzantine empire before it fell? Most likely not the ottoman empire due to the amount of christian symbolism. It can’t be the Byzantine empire because they rarely if at all used Halberts. Also the Byzantine empire fell pretty early so it's unlikely they were associated with Bram’s defeat. It seems like the Holy Roman empire however they did not use rectangular shields, favoring a kite or heater shield instead. Then who else?

I couldn't find any good maps

Fyodor mentioned the North (Idk why Bram started blabbering about the west). Do you know what was north of Transylvania? The Kingdom of Hungary who also had a skilled army known as the black army that used rectangular shields and was big on spears and Halberd.

The Hungarian Black army (1458-1494)

From the evidence gathered so far, it must be 1458-76.

King Matthias & the Sultan

Here, Bram asks Fyodor who he serves, either King Matthias (The king of Hungary) or the Sultan (Leader of the Ottomans). Bram was suspicious of the Sultan for the reason that they started eyeing Europe once the Byzantine Empire fell, along with his history with them (Held hostage as a boy). The tension between King Matthias and Vlad III started when Matthias received a letter from the saxons allegedly written by Vlad III in which he offered support to the Ottomans. This was enough to convince Matthias of Vlad III’s treachery so he imprisoned him from 1463 to 1475. Vlad III was intercepted and captured by Matthias after he had escaped Ottoman capture and sought Matthias for assistance. This could be when Bram was defeated in the manga(?) So I guess the year may have been 1462-1463?

Some bonus info that I noticed is that Matthias signed a peace treaty with the Holy Roman empire in 1463. Maybe Bram was defeated after they signed the treaty so they could form some sort of coalition against him (This could explain why the knights all had religious imagery on their helmets).

Another thing is that Bram was impaled(?) alongside two other women. In the Dracula book, I believe it was mentioned there were three female vampires that the protagonist had to defeat before killing Dracula in the castle. This could hint towards the fact that Bram was in the castle when he was attacked and defeated.

(I'm having trouble mixing history and fiction. Fyodor definitely had a hand in this. No way he just came to warn Bram for no reason)

None of these images are mine (I'm sure you know, but just in case)

Yeah that’s all I got, please comment to correct me and/or let me know if you know anything. (Might edit later idk)

[varteeny1234]

So I Think I Know What Marm Is Up To

AKA I recognize those freaking crystals in her thumbnail

OK SO! THIS IS WHAT THE THUMBNAIL FOR HER PREMIERE VIDEO IS:

...AND THIS IS A SCREENSHOT FROM HER LETSPLAY SEASON ONE

SEE THE SIMILARITIES!!

Now, Marm has said some things previously that could be read as connections between SBK and LPS1 before.

This comment was on an art that I made, where I headcanoned basically that Marm's mangrove witch powers were from her LPS1. She also said that I had picked up on "almost exactly what she was going for" when I said that maybe, again, her mangrove magic was from LPS1, and the void/void magic was corrupting it.

...At that point, it was mostly me theorizing and redstringing random headcanons together. But it turns out that there might actually be a full plotline where SBK/Mangrove Marm IS THE SAME as LPS1 Marm! Hooray! I am exploding.

The crystals were part of a custom biome she built in LPS1, around a magical castle that doubled as a school, that in her story were the REASON it was built, and the main focus of the studies there, SO THERE'S PROBABLY A LOT MORE TO THIS ALL THAN I CAN COMPREHEND RIGHT NOW BUT THAT'S WHAT THAT IS I THINK!!!

also this may mean that the amethyst paths in the SBK mangrove swamp are connected to this magic as well but idk. i am shaking in excitement

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N = I've been on a really weird music kick - for me, anyway. Stuff like Otis Redding, Etta James, Solomon Burke, Bill Withers. And originally, I had Sanemi as the leading man. This goes along with For The Record a little bit in that the music is similar. I may keep trying to work on these damn things until I feel like I've gotten it right. Maybe I'll start a small collection or something where these older songs inspire me to write. Idk. Funny blip, I actually typed out 'Nemi at one part instead of 'Nami. Could you imagine? Living with both men, fucking Nanami and you say 'Nemi or the other way around. Sanemi and say 'Nami. They're so close. It's the perfect threesome. Hmm.

C/W = Sex. Overused italics. Spanking with panties. Nothing too horrific. But ... MDNI.

Sir 'Nami

You stood at the kitchen sink, mindlessly preparing the green beans you were going to cook with dinner. Your favorite mix, the one Nanami made for you, was playing over the inlaid speakers in the ceiling as you swung your hips from side-to-side to Misty Blue.

Nanami had good taste in everything; Clothes, music, cars, houses, investments. Right down to his toothpaste.

You were about halfway through the bag of beans when the garage door opened.

He was home at 5:19, just like he always was. Unless he had to put in some overtime.

He pulled into the driveway, ready to park the car away for the weekend, gathered up his briefcase and anything else he'd need and came in through the door to the side entryway.

You never cease to amaze him.

At first it was day after day, then weeks turned to months and months turned to years. Tonight is your 5 year anniversary and you still look at him with that same warm, sweet smile when he comes in and kicks off his work shoes for his house slippers.

He looks forward to it every evening. And he's elated every evening when he sees you standing there to greet him.

You act like newlyweds whenever you're together. In public places or in the privacy of your own home. Always kissing on the other, holding waists and hands, interlocking arms as the pair of you cross the street.

"Smells good, swee'heart." Nanami says as he stands behind you and joins you in the swaying. Turn Me On now playing softly through the air.

"Thank you, 'Nami. I missed you today, y'know that?" You said, turning around to face him.

He leaned down and put his head in the crook of your neck and took a deep breath in. "I'll never get over how lucky I am to have landed you, y'know that?" His arms wrapped around your aproned body; one around your waist, the other on your butt.

You pulled your head to the side and looked at him quizzically. "How you ... landed me?"

He kept his face in your neck, not bothered by the weird look you gave him. He didn't want to have to defend his choices to the woman he loved with all of his heart.

"Hmmm mhmm." He hummed. "You just have to accept it, darling. I'm the lucky one here."

Your arms made their way to rest around his neck, the two of you still swaying together. 'Crazy' by Patsy Cline, filling your ears as you stood with your husband in your custom-built home that he gave to you on your wedding night.

"I have to accept it, huh?" You said playfully as you nudged his face with your nose to rest against yours. "Well, you are the man of the house. Whatever you say goes, I s'pose."

"I may be the man of the house, but you're queen of the castle."

He untied the apron strings from where they sat at your belly and hung it carefully in the pantry. A place for everything and everything in its place, he'd always say.

"Whoo! 'Nami!" He scooped you up in his arms and carried you bridal-style to your king size bed. Laying you down so gently like you'd break any other way he released you from his hold.

"It's Friday, my love." He said just as calmly as he'd say anything else. "We have the whole weekend to do whatever we want." He kissed between the knuckles on your hands, looking up at you as his lips brushed your soft skin there.

You played dumb. "I - no, it's Thursday, 'Nami. You're losing your mind. Come, let me show you the calendar."

He pulled you back down as you tried to stand from the bed.

"Mm-mm. I know it's Friday. I have been living for this day since Sunday. Now," he began to nuzzle into your chest and kiss your collarbone, "what sort of trouble can we get ourselves into this weekend?"

He had the dress pulled down off of your shoulder by now. Licking little circles into your exposed skin before he kisses it all away and starts over.

"We could ..." he continued as his hand slid from your knee to your thigh so lightly it gave you goosebumps, "go to dinner?"

You scooted back a little on the bed, "'Nami, I almost have dinner ready to cook."

"That's right, that's right, darling, forgive my thoughtlessness." His fingers were squeezing the fattest part of your thigh now, his kisses trailed down further toward your breasts.

"Mm," you said, breathing a little harder now. "I - I don't know, honey. I mmm ... I might have to punish you for your foolishness." Your fingers found their way into his belt buckle and you started to toy around with it.

"'Nami, do it ... do the thing you do." Your face got a devilish little look on it as you tilted your chin and looked up at him.

Nanami stood and undid his belt with his right hand and ripped it from around his waist. How hard he already was became more evident as the seconds passed.

Now on your knees in front of him. "Please, sir, please give me your belt." You begged. You were ready for anything, even if it meant being submissive to your husband.

"I can do that, my love, but I think I have a better idea." He pulled his belt back up to his pants and tucked it into the pocket.

"You wanna know what I want to do to you, sweetheart?" He was pulling at the button on his pants now.

"Yes, sir. Tell me."

"I want to lay you down on your back," he said as he did just that. "I want to take my belt and tie your wrists together. And I want to take your pretty panties off and spank you with them."

Your mouth was open in anticipation. "Sir, please."

He pulled the panties from your waist and rolled them up to the top of his fist. "Don't worry, my love. I'll be gentle at first."

He tied your wrists together with his belt and then pulled the panties out from his fist.

"Are you ready, my darling?" He asked.

You nodded your head in agreement.

He brought the panties down on your backside with a loud crack.

"Oh! Sir, please. Again."

He spanked you again, harder this time.

"Mmhm, yes. Again, please."

He hit you again and again and again. Each time you would beg for him to do it harder.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with each slap.

He stopped after a while and flipped you onto your back. Your pussy was throbbing, begging for his touch.

He leaned down and kissed your lips softly, his hands tracing your body. He trailed his tongue down to your chest, leaving a wet trail in his wake.

His fingers found their way to your clit, circling around it gently before slipping a finger inside your folds.

"’Nami, fuck me." You said, trying not to sound as desperate as you were feeling.

He pulled his pants off and threw them to the floor.

His cock was rock solid.

He grabbed your panties from the bed and rubbed the head of his dick with them before tossing them to the side.

He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed himself inside you.

"Ohhhh, yes’sir." You moaned as you felt his cock fill you up.

He started thrusting in and out of you, slow and steady at first.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with every thrust.

"Ohhh, sir, please fuck me harder." You begged.

He picked up the pace and started fucking you faster.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes. 'Nami oh my fucking god ..."

He grabbed your tits in his hands and started kneading them, his cock still pounding away at you.

You were so close to cumming, you could feel it building up inside you.

"Sir, m’gonna cum. Please ...?"

"Go ahead, baby. Cum for me." He said as he fucked you even harder.

You came with a loud moan, your whole body shaking.

Nanami came right after you, his dick twitching as he filled you up.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily.

"Fuck, 'Nami." You said as you looked at him with a smile. "That was incredible."

"Yeah," he said as he kissed your cheek. "It really was. Thank you for letting me have my way with you, baby." He chuckled.

You both lay there for a while, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies.

After a while, you got up and started to get dressed. You had dinner to cook, after all.

As you walked to the kitchen, you couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to have a man like Nanami in your life. He was everything you could ever hope for. 

[dnpbeats]

phouse is for sure an actual house, from when it was getting built theyve talked about it as a house, and said the neighbours arent so close and have a driveway and a basement and such i think it may be on a hill or something idk london geography

this is incoherent im sorry

lmao i love that dan and phil went from having ppl know their address and literally stalking them to keeping us so in the dark that no one can agree on what type of building they live in let alone where they live 😭😭 which they deserve i'm glad they're getting their privacy!!! anyway yeah a hill would make sense, but i also know nothing abt london geography so who knows 😭

guys wait... what if castle on the hill by ed sheeran is actually about the phouse 😧😧

[forgottenroisin]

Macdara I of Malconaire, King of Oak & Tree, Lord of the Wood, Wielder of Guardian the Oakenbrand, Keeper of the Sacred Groves, Warden of Malconaire, called Oakensteel

ok so obv these titles are 10000% made up/aren't his real stuff etc etc etc (also defffff are considered a list of his seacred duties rather than his honors in this context!!), but!! i thought, in light of this new info we've got re: kings and their castles in astaira, we might wanna talk a bit about the malconaires' og kingly ancestor? now, we've talked abt how they're one of the oldest great houses in all astaira, so im guessing that'd mean this dude is probs a mytho-historic figure to them, a la king arthur?

we'd also talked asp a bit abt how, maybe way back when, astaira was maybe originally ~multiple countries~ that came together to fight the gods and, after that, set up elections between them and their whole culture/convention of elected leaders kinda sprang out of that? ~if we do go w that idea, im guessing that house malconaire and the other of the oldest houses were kings of their respective lands? like, lorcan and stafford seem to be some of those but calleary, for example, is one we've explicitly talked abt being a newer house, so they probs ~weren't, for example?

(note: @forgottenvalentina believes this is all nonsense btw!! she will stubbornly maintain they are ~not of the blood royal as she herself most certainly is! lkjasdklfjsdjf as lizzy said, they're of a ~broken line of kings whereas she is ~not -- roderick: 'wait didn't i kill those guys?' ;DDD)

either way tho! what i ~really wanted to talk abt a bit is ~actually castle malconaire or, more precisely, its guardian tree and an idea i think ive mentioned a bit that i actually stole wholesale from the odyssey #sorrynotsorry so, in the odyssey, its revealed (its a whole thing but anyway) how odysseus carved his marriage bed out of a still-living tree (in his case an olive but shhh) and it was still this living, growing thing and here's a recreation of how it is kinda described w like...the bed is a tree but lowkey so is the whole bedroom sorta thing:

we've also discussed how the tree, like in the odyssey, is the center of the home and how its 1) a guardian and 2) also the sheath of guardian the sword. well, i thought it might also be, nestled upstairs amongst higher branches the lord's bed/bedroom even as it reaches out of the roof far above and to the sky, and possibly below...the ancient malconaire throne...

like, maybe those trees at the front door are all part of this one absolutely insanely mammoth ancient ancient ancient tree that's been built around to make a home/castle, and at its central stalk right in the middle of the great hall is the sheath and the throne a la

(idk why the above wont preview like the others???) or

but still living, growing out of the tree like

or even

bc perhaps ~it is also the portal to find the sword...and to free the gods. what if the reason the sword is lost is bc its acting as a key in a very, very ancient lock, one of many no doubt such as the eternal flame in kolchis and others im sure, that's helping to hold back the gods or smth????? idk?????

i was just thinking abt how, like, in celtic mythology trees sometimes ~are portals...and also prisons, think merlin walking inside the tree and never walking out again as a more modern telling of this concept. a lot of celtic heroes walked into the otherworlds by walking through the opening in a tree and arrived in faerie etc but once they went in they often never returned or, if they did, it was centuries after they'd left and that sort of thing...

so anyway basically the staffords, malconaires, and lorcans think they're doing good by reclaiming the lost stafford sword, and thus galvanizing astaira to fight for its freedom, hoping to keep the gods at bay, but in so doing, they're actually unwittingly making the jail that binds them weaker??? or smth?? idk...alskjfkljdsf like, there's a reason their ancestors sealed it away and ensured that none but their bloodline, its keepers, could ever undo what they'd done, etc??? but the secret of what they're keeping has been lost over the centuries and just the legends of the sword remain now unrelated to the tale of the irmprisoned evil gods??? idk!!!

this might also be part of why @forgottengodfrey is helping them bc he's read all these ancient tomes and sort of puzzled out that these families are significant to his apocalyptic dreams?

~also, side note, @forgottenrian regardless of all the above, v much wants the ancient stafford sword to prove his legitimacy as ruler of astaira so yeah!! lotsa threads here idk????

its also like...we can have parts of this be true w/o the rest necessarily needing to be true. for example, we can have the cosmetic stuff like the central tree and not the plot stuff, or like just the throne or just the portal or...whatever!! but yeah idk i was like 'we could maybe combine all of this???' and went a bit bonkers here hahaha i def will not be offended if you guys aren't feeling this it was just a wild notion i had so i wanted to share! lajksfkljsdf

EDIT! oh one more thing! what if the sword, guardian, is called such bc its actually -- or its hilt is -- a piece of the guardian tree and so its said that the blade shall always remain sharp so long as its wielded by a malconaire but for any nonbeliever who picks it up it shall return to a branch? and it has some eternal-living ivy twining around the hilt? some visuals:

also the door:

[camelspit]

PICK THE WOMAN THAT YOU WANT ELIMINATED!!

Master Cadence by @tw-5

Umber by @chronically-ill-psionipath

Tinker by @thefoxysnake

Esha Aria by @camelspit

Lady Galvin by @an-ungraceful-swan

Note! Definition of a sexywoman:

According to the sexywomanpedia, a sexywoman is "a character who shows the 'lanky suitman villain' tropes, is popular with wlw, and/or is highly divisive." Some factors to consider are morality (or lack thereof), overall mysteriousness, and strength (physical or abilitywise.)

Propaganda:

Master Cadence:

"she’s a linguist. she’s a woman in stem. she’s tired of everyone’s bullshit. she’s fruity as hell. her house is cool as fuck (a howls moving castle style boat-thing made of metal that she built herself because she didn’t want to live in the elven cities???? come on). she’s a MASTER. what more could you want." @let-them-sing-of-others

"she’s an academic. shes smarter than u. she hates on the council and she’s RIGHT. she hates sophie actually you know what she has a hater complex but in a hot way. i love her yr honour." @necromycologist

"she spent YEARS researching on ogres and their culture. idk about you, but i would try keeping her in my good graces because she KNOWS ABOUT DEADLY POISON. WHY ARE PEOPLE NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS. I WOULD SHIT MYSELF IF I CAME ACROSS HER IN REAL LIFE EVEN IF IT WAS IN A GROCERY STORE ON A RANDOM TUESDAY AND SHE WAS BUYING OREOS. FOR ALL WE KNOW, SHE COULD HAVE LOADS OF THAT IN HER HOUSE/ON HER PERSON!!" @corruption-exe

"ok not to be a lesbian or horny on main (<- ace) but HOLY SHIT i want her to step on me. this lady has intensified my sexuality crisis" (anonymous)

Umber:

"Shes an evil hot powerful shade that got killed in the book she got introduced in what more could you want" @thefoxysnake

"Umber (Redacted) is one of the women in the series that isn’t JUST psychological manipulator! She also fought! She broke bones (if I remembered correctly) and messes with everyone’s minds without even revealing her true name! She has a boyfriend! A BOYFRIEND. TRIX. She went through something ‘the incident’ (mentioned in the latest book) and joined the Neverseen! She got Trix, her Pookie to be in the Neverseen as well 🥺. You can tell she was also a good lover how Trix was so sad over her death. KEEP IN MIND SHE DIED BEING CRUSHED, so for those who likes angst; there you go. She died in her mission. She was Tam’s mentor and an EXCELLENT fighter if I do say so myself. Who wouldn’t vote Umber? A girlboss with a sweet boyfriend and has murderous tendencies? 😔🎉 Vote for Umber PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU! PLSPLSPLSPLS 😭😭" @chronically-ill-psionipath

Tinker:

"she's trans! she's autistic! she's a mad scientist! she's everything you could possibly want in a woman!!!!!" @gay-otlc

"shes a mad genius she built a mad science castle she invented steampunk literally why would you not love her" @necromycologist

Esha Aria:

"shes sooo funny guys. she fucked with the system to get some dick and almost got away with it. she chose that dick over her daughter. she may be exiled but at least she has her man. morals and consequences mean nothing!!!" @camelspit

Lady Galvin:

"She's one of the greatest alchemists there ever was, and yet no one recognizes her for her talents. She's surrounded by people who will never understand or appreciate her, and because of that she tries to make their life hell. She has no ambitions, no future, no goal, and yet she doesn't break. She wears her cool ass capes and rules over detention with an iron fist, desperately searching for the control she lost when she realized her job wasn't up to her. She's an evil supergenius stuck in a children's school." @lizzie-dude

[quirkle2]

i'm actually kind of obsessed with the way totk plays on the player's relationship with the world (totk spoilers)

what i mean is that back when everybody was playing botw for the first time, we were all learning about hyrule right along with link, since he had amnesia and it was all just as new to him

the player and link did everything together, memorized the map, figured out what made the monsters tick, explored every nook and cranny, met new (and old) friends. we were just as invested in restoring link's memory as link was

now, in totk, link has not gone through another amnesia arc, and he remembers the world, as do we. we are experiencing hyrule in the same sense that link is—our memorizations of the map have been twisted, there's new and altered enemies, the towns are changed and there's different and new people in them. this is just as new to link as it is to us

in botw, the player and link trudged through castle town and fought off mechanical demons that were the death of the entire town's populace. we saw crumbled beds and broken down homes that once belonged to people who lived and breathed and laughed, and the gurgle of the malice caking the ground and the phenomenal music made it all that much more horrifying to witness, even if the worst of the disaster had long since come and gone without us

in totk, the player and link stroll through a peaceful and healing castle town, tents and huts set up, the foundations of houses built in preparation for new lives where old ones ended. both the player and link see differences and see how the world is healing and hurting in comparison to the first adventure

both tense up when entering the first gatehouse, like they're expecting a lynel to pounce at them, but it never happens and there's well-meaning hylians stationed there instead. when the entrance to the emergency shelter in lookout landing opens, both recall the memory from botw, where link was officially assigned his duty there as the hero through zelda's unenthusiastic reciting. both see the way the land has been mangled by the Upheaval and the crumbling of the sky islands, and both the player and link remember what Used to be there, instead of some npc just telling us

idk i just . botw was always so good at shoveling emotions down my throat and totk has given me new emotions i do not even have names for. this is gonna be such a good game

[speakergame]

What do you think speaker and seers house would look like? I remember you explaining it like Addams Family wannabe and something else like that, but I have aphantaisa, so it's hard for me to mentally 'see' it. Idk how else to word this question, but I wanted to ask anyway 🫠

the house is an old Victorian-style home (in their case, one actually built during the Victorian era, it's around 150 years old). to me the asymmetrical appearance of Victorians makes sense for a home that has had rooms and wings added to it over the course of generations

the interior is cluttered and mismatched, a little crowded but not too much.

tintype and daguerreotype photos are framed right next to polaroids and Speaker's and Seer's elementary school pictures. original Victorian fainting couches and Edwardian sofas sit next to plaid recliners from the 1980s. there are delicate blown glass figurines and ancient music boxes on display, but there's also probably a Millennium Falcon toy and at least one Furby somewhere within the depths of the house. the wallpaper and cabinets are all original to the house, but the plumbing and kitchen appliances are all modern.

I've heard the style referred to as "maximalism" and "whimsigoth" and I think that suits them really well. Addams Family is the example I usually go for, but Howl's Moving Castle would be a good one too.

people generate clutter. it's a fact of life. any time someone lives in one place long enough, stuff starts to accumulate, whether it's books or plants or "I saw this at an art show and thought of you" paintings or funko pop figures or whatever. Speaker and Seer's house is what happens when several generations of family all live in the same place for 150 years, layers of human existence piled on top of each other.

I hope that makes sense 😅 I've never really thought of specifics of what the house looks like beyond a loose layout of where everything is. for me it's more about what the house feels like.

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PRELIMINARY ROUND - THE LEGEND OF ZELDA - ZELDA

PROPAGANDA

Tetra (The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker)

1.) Wind Waker actually has a point with its misogyny and kinda condemns the misogyny. We first see Tetra as a helpless girl in the clutches of a giant bird monster. A pirate ship catapults a boulder at the bird, which drops Tetra on the hero's home island. We find out that young Tetra is the rough-and-tumble captain of an entire pirate crew, and the brains of the outfit. We later learn that bird monster has been kidnapping a bunch of girls to find the reincarnation of the legendary Princess Zelda. It is revealed that Tetra is the next Princess Zelda. Because she is Zelda, she transforms from a tanned pirate captain into a pale princess in a dress, and her role requires her to wait in a castle for the hero to finish his quest. Which is what she does. And the point of the story is that this is wrong! The villain is wrong, and the hero's mentor is wrong—they're both hurting children and forcing them to reenact old roles in an old story, in their selfish quest to resurrect their long-dead kingdoms. Then breaking tradition, (I believe) Wind Waker Zelda is the first Zelda to wield the sacred Light Arrows and to take up an active combat role in the final battle. The happy ending is that Zelda turns back into Tetra, and she and Link set out to forge their own future. BUT THEN. The cheap sequel Phantom Hourglass (the equivalent of a direct-to-DVD Disney movie sequel tbh) pretty much opens with Tetra being turned into a stone statue. And she's a stone statue for the ENTIRE GAME until the hero rescures her. Clear-cut sidelining of a compelling female character, smells like misogyny to me. At least Tetra's identical granddaughter was a playable co-protagonist in the next sequel, but arguably Tetra founding a new monarchal country named the same as the ancient one and then actively continuing the tradition of making Princesses Zelda undermines the conclusion of Wind Waker. Tetra possibly has the most personality and most meaningful role out of all the Zeldas, and she's far from the biggest victim of misogyny here—but still, let's remember that even Tetra deserved better than she got.

2.) Was built up as a super-cool pirate leader antihero who helped out Link. Then, as soon as it's revealed that she's that era's incarnation of Zelda, she gets magically put in the standard Princess Zelda dress (which also makes her skin lighter for Some Reason), and she ends up being sequestered in a basement for her safety until the finale, where she actually gets to do something again.

3.) Idk if anyones talked about windwakers sequel game, phantom hourglass yet so i will. Dont go into ph expecting a lot of cool pirate zelda action because shes a statue for like most of it. Shes a statue and you have to go save her.

Zelda (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and The Legend of Zelda: Tears of

1.) Oh my god. Oh my goooooooood. She was like. Ok in botw (I don't know). But then in totk, they COULD have had her take a more active role, especially with her whole sage of time thing and the era she was in not having a "hero", but NO. She barely did anything, and then in the end she ended up sacrificing herself (at least turning into a dragon is new. Like I don't really have a problem with the dragon thing but man they dropped the fucking ball with everything else). Like one of the creators literally stated that Zelda HAD to be the damsel in distress (rescue her from a crystal, a castle, whatever) and yeah, they definitely continued that in totk. Please just give a mainline Zelda a sword or an active (fighting) role in the game I am BEGGING YOU. Damsels in distress aren't cool, especially when you hype them up to be super powerful!!! She fucking deleted the Calamity from existence in botw you could have done SOMETHING

2.) WHY CANT I EVER HAVE A MAINLINE ZELDA GAME AAAA

I hope someone else gives good propogands but this is specifically about Tears of the Kingdom. So before it came out, I tried to avoid anything and everything about the game so I could go in 100% blind but I did see a few images of course because internet people don’t tag or algorithms lol but the point it looked like Zelda was the protagonist or at least a swap where they’re both playable choices and you can swap between them because she and link looked so alike and I was so happy to play her and was like as much as I like link free my girl from never ending Princess saving needing and it was happening!!

It did not happen and she was again lost and felt like a repeat of the last game where I need to save her (not exactly the same but COMEON)

3.) forced to be a magic sealing princess when she wants to do science and build robots

[the-gnomish-bastard]

Tips for running a dnd one shot/campaign

Story:

Don’t make it too straightforward. Not something like “journey to the evil castle and defeat the evil man.” Players love engagement, have some mysteries.

The unknown is far more terrifying than what is known. Leave some things unexplained. Leave some mysteries as mysteries. For example: a bad guy is caught, the party wants to interrogate them, they do, but right before they get the critical information, a tentacle comes out of nowhere and breaks their neck. Never explain what just happened.

Always have two plot lines. One where the players do the original and intended quest, or something else. Bonus points if they turn against the quest giver after learning the truth.

The PCs have backstories, use them. You can make some compelling stories by engaging your players with their past. Remember: Though you can’t change the past, you can learn from it and fix the future.

NPCs:

NPCs are a tricky bit. There are several ways to do this.

To make a comic relief character, give them a weird trait. This can be physical, or personality related. Like “Timmy Two Toes” whose feet are each just one large toe. Or “Frank Blundersquat” who has an unhealthy obsession with cheese wheels, trying to obtain the mythical “Cheese Omniwheel” which is just a sphere.

To make a bad ass NPC, you need to compromise. Gone are the days of a man with a sword and a stoic personality slaying the ancient evils. Add a weird trait. Like they only fight with a fish. Or they just want a Viking death.

To make an NPC actually bad ass, take inspiration from Godfrey, the First Elden Lord. His core traits are Strength and Power are what make a warrior. When you fight him in Elden Ring, he compliments you and commends you every time he speaks. He respects not just physical strength, but magical as well. Also, make the NPC live up to stories about them.

To make a likable NPC, make a small goblin/kobold/tabaxi/imp/etc child with snotty nose and give them a name like “Binkle” or something.

To make an NPC absolutely hated, have them call a character a slur in their native tongue.

To make a DMPC, don’t.

The BBEG:

To make a sympathetic BBEG, have part of the backstory be that they watched their dog die.

To make a hated BBEG, have them kill a player’s character.

To make them really hated, they kill Binkle.

To make a charismatic BBEG, uh… idk… give them a penis?

To make a betrayal of a BBEG, make it so that Binkle was the BBEG all along.

Boss Fight:

Group initiative for the goons. You should also have no more than 7 goons at one time.

Gimmick gimmick gimmick. Always make it a gimmick fight. Examples include: “if players kill the goons, the boss heals. If players kill guy A, then guy B gets stronger. Only physical damage can hurt the boss.”

Give the boss a healing thing. Your players are going to demolish them, doesn’t matter what you planned. The players can heal, so can the boss. A cleric with revivify does wonders.

Give the boss a weakness. Whether it’s a damage type or a specific spot, give it a weakness.

World Building:

You don’t gotta make it lord of the rings, set the groundwork and then make shit up as you go.

Dealing with the DM’s Bane:

That’s right, the one thing that all DMs fear: the players. You make a master crafted story, and they say fuck you and try and build a factory.

If the players decide to fully reject the call of adventure, that’s fine, but give them consequences. War in the south means the price of goods has skyrocketed, a loved one has been killed by raiders, the tavern the party built isn’t doing well because they are located near the frontlines, a hometown is destroyed, etc. Be evil with it.

Rule of cool. Do it, or don’t play.

[gloamvonhrym]

oh I never posted all my silly phoenicis worldbuilding (birdbuilding) that I did while in fanfic writing hell

here’s a huge mostly-boring set of notes expanding and/or playing havoc with canon. I’m putting it here for future reference. maybe to link to it for funsies if I ever post this hell fic

phoenicis is a small insular nation with little social hierarchy, living on inhospitable mountains inaccessible to anyone except other birds. phoenicis has therefore evolved on a somewhat separate cultural track from everybody else in tellius. in this essay I will

economy/practical shit

implicitly in canon hawks are intensely community-oriented. again, they’re a small nation without much hierarchy, and with some preference for chaos. they all “just do what needs to be done”, paraphrasing ulki. they’re not the Strong Guys for the heck of it: they work together to protect & care for their own, and harbor a strong sense of collective duty and trust.

so they’re commies

with serenes out of the picture they’re the biggest commies in tellius

they don’t have currency, that’s some human shit. to each according to their need etc

(exactly how small and close-knit is. phoenicis? small enough that kilvas, a similarly small nation with even fewer resources, could kill everyone on the home front in basically a day when it was left undefended. so. take that for what it is)

infrastructure

minor architecture tangent: we don’t see much of phoenicis & kilvas except for the exteriors of their respective castles, which is kinda boring. obviously not everyone lives in the castles. but phoenicis DOES have some other visible infrastructure, namely the funky detail of these open doorways built into both the castle itself and the surrounding cliffs:

(I don’t know if there’s any kind of proper name for these, because obviously irl we don’t need them and they’re not a thing. I’ve been calling them sky doors, and I might have nabbed that from rebecca roanhorse’s “between earth and sky”, although idk if she in turn nabbed it from anyone else)

anyway there appears to be no actual barrier on these, at least not externally. what did I say. commies. who’s gonna rob and kill you in your own home, in your little nation-commune, where nobody except other birds can get to you, and everyone trusts everyone else to do their duty and provide for each other. (the answer is that other birds will betray you, eventually. sad!)

anyway it’s boring to stick around the castle 100% of the time. I imagine that this architectural idea continues down into the valleys, where maybe artisans can make stuff and services can be provided and bargain economy shit can happen

hawks have seemingly only been pirates for the last 20 years or so, and they do piracy for the sake of vengeance rather than need, and they can’t do that much of it because there aren’t a ton of them; and unlike kilvas, they abstain from trade with the whole rest of the continent, and are isolationist by choice. so they must be self-sufficient in basically every way. someone’s got to be making fabric, making clothes, making shoes, forging metals, creating pottery, creating music and art, administering medicine, providing education, etc, somewhere.

healthcare

tangent about medicine: phoenicis is probably the only nation in the continent that has historically had no contact with healing magic at all. the herons had innate healing magic, and everyone else either has human mages or contact with human mages. but phoenicis is on its own. their medical science is therefore more advanced by irl standards, because it has to be. they know more shit about practical mundane antitoxins, antibiotics, wound dressing, surgeries, anesthetics, and complications. it’s less pleasant than magical means, but it works.

(canonically, healing magic works on wounds and not so much things like regular illnesses, so everyone’s still got some mundane medical care; but when that’s ALL you’ve got, I think it follows that you necessarily come to understand the pure mundane science better than most other people. I bet phoenicis has bred its share of real scientists. if anyone in tellius is going to invent electricity,) (also: they might value physical strength very much, but because they’re commies, I figure they take care of their sick/disabled/injured pretty well, and most of them are at terms with the fact that not everyone can be the Strongest Guys. reyson’s complex about being too weak to live is likely more due to survivor’s guilt, helplessness to protect others/wreak revenge personally, and a post-traumatic focus on violence as a primary determinant of outcomes, rather than any actual pervasive cultural messaging that he’s useless.)

age

hawks live to some, what, 300+ years? janaff says a 24 year old should barely be speaking, but I feel like his ass was just being dramatic, similar to the way we needle real-life 18 year old adult humans about being tiny babies. there’s no reason why any creature should take 20+ years to be at least functional, that would be a huge evolutionary disadvantage. I posit that hawk adolescence is considered to last roughly age 20 to 70 (with heron adolescence lasting somewhat longer, given their longer lifespan; maybe to 80-85, such that reyson has somewhat recently hit true adulthood by the time PoR rolls around).

teenagers are stupid. hawk teenagers are REALLY stupid. chaos predilection + hormones. many of them will gleefully pick a fight over any dumb thing and be horny about it. strong with the vigor of youth, but exceptionally poor sense of their own limitations

by age 100+, their temperament evens out; but any contender for the king’s power is probably going to come from the young crowd at any given time. speaking of which,

government

there isn’t much of one. phoenicis is not big. everyone knows everyone and they’re very efficient commies so everything gets done that needs to get done. tibarn has 2 dumbass advisors. who needs a secretary of state.

the title of king goes to “the strongest” (I assume the intent is that this is determined by combat, against self-selected challengers who get to take over if they win, wakanda style). although canonically, his power is that he gets to call some shots but doesn’t really get any special privileges or reverence beyond that, which is nice because it means that if the king became super unpopular, the rest of phoenicis could probably depose him without much trouble if they wanted to. no divine rights here.

(worth noting: I think tibarn’s characterization is super different between fe9 and fe10, with RD tibarn being a lot sassier and more informal. FEH skewed towards the RD vibe, and I think they were right for that. given the hawks’ uniquely relaxed philosophy towards royalty, their insular culture, and the likelihood that they all knew tibarn by name before he ever had a title, it wouldn’t make sense for them to do a lot of formalized bowing and scraping. RD tibarn would never have unironically addressed caineghis as “o majestic king of lions” or whatever he said)

(by contrast, apparently, in japanese, reyson consistently addresses tibarn formally (and also naesala, up until naesala betrays him). I don’t speak japanese and can’t really count this as an aspect of my experience of these characters, but I wonder if the other birds also address each other in this way, or if it’s a trait peculiar to reyson.)

family

families are not nuclear. hawks raise their kids pretty communally, foremost in unstructured “flocks” (households or clusters of households). actual bio parents may or may not be closely involved

parenting is kind of hands-off overall. the concept of adult supervision falls away pretty fast. “let your kid do the stupid dangerous thing so that he learns what’s stupid and dangerous” ass culture; learning by experience is optimal, and if you’re not adequately responsible then others are less likely to be sympathetic and/or have your back in turn. hawk kids tend to gain squads quickly, and they often hang together for life ride or die

if a young hawk is neglected or entirely rejected by their home flocks - rare, but not impossible - likely someone else will pick up the slack, if not adults then some loyal friends

relevant headcanons: tibarn, ulki, and janaff have been sticking together since an early age. ulki in particular had some problems - his original family did not appreciate that he kept overhearing things he shouldn’t, and he was way too autistic to know what was meant to not be repeated, so after not too long he became a bit of a lone wolf. tibarn and janaff already knew each other - janaff’s exceptional sight didn’t cause him any similar problems; and were initially concerned with ulki’s misfit status, but his ability was a valuable bonus. they all adopted each other.

food

the main thing hawks don’t do is cook. because they mostly eat raw meat, fish, and bugs, which is very sexy of them. I imagine every household has certain members designated to hunt regularly on its behalf. add that one to the chore chart

(maybe someone starts experimenting more with cooking when herons are there, and further when phoenicis is open to international relations. for fun and community!)

gender

ok the shit I made up, let’s go off the rails

hawks are queer-normative. in that they don’t give a shit about the anatomy or superficial presentation of who sleeps with whom. most of them are equal-opportunity in that regard

they are, however, by human standards, masc-centric to a sort of absurd degree. they’re not dumb senseless brutes (see again, commies, intense intra-community trust); they’re also probably not the most emotionally available fellas

(“but wouldn’t this level of intra-community trust result in greater emotional availability, not less?” look I’m not saying they’re scared of it. but why would you cry out your feelings with some other guy when you could be killing animals or committing piracy about it.)

gender presentation: I said equal-opportunity in terms of sexuality. might be because it’s a little difficult to tell. the games appear to have no female hawk characters but in MY headcanons their presentation is just masc-centric across the board, and maybe they skew a little less sexually dimorphic in general, so you wouldn’t know anyway

most hawks are he/hims. that’s just a quirk. like discworld dwarves but with less to say about it. just a nation of butches, for fun

bad gender parity in the tellius games? how do you know janaff isn’t a he/him lesbian

hawk dress is largely unisex, earth-toned, and utilitarian. not necessarily fully unadorned - tibarn has an earring & a few other things, including a necklace (feathers; battle trophies?) - but he’s still pretty rugged. nobody is flashy.

nothing AGAINST conventionally feminine presentation per se. hawks would chafe against overly rigid norms. but the way medieval-fantasy femininity looks, they’d probably think it’s a little odd in a practical sense. but who knows. maybe leanne starts something with those she/her pronouns and flowy dresses yk.

(tangent on clothing: phoenicis isn’t really friendly for something like cotton crops, but they can have wool, because goats & sheep can live on mountains. I’m also happy to make up that there’s some kind of hardy tellius breed of mulberry-adjacent tree, which can grow at least somewhere in phoenicis, resulting in the availability of silk and maybe barkcloth. or something. idk I’m not that kind of historian.)

sexuality

hawks primarily value strength, physical + emotional. we knew this. again, doesn’t make for the greatest emotional intelligence. overt softness is not the thing. tibarn kind of sucks at the direct empathy that reyson claims all living beings share, for instance. 2 hawks in a fight would rather tussle it out than waste time talking.

this carries over. in a partner, again, attraction tends to disregard sexed anatomy, but the most valuable thing is being well-matched physically. being creatures of chaos, they trust their impulses, they like a challenge, they don’t mind a fight, and they probably don’t super want to be with someone they have to worry about hurting

(hence that kind of hot chemistry between tibarn & nailah. also janaff hits on lucia at first glance bc she’s a knight obviously she’s got some beef babeyy)

pursuant: by and large, hawks really don’t find herons very attractive. that delicate graceful peaceful affect is kind of a mystifying ideal to them. it’s like art - nice to look at, ig, but what would you actually do with it. people significantly weaker than you are for you to protect, not sleep with. tibarn is a notable exception because he is down bad for reyson

and reyson is like an alien, and tibarn is maybe a bit of a freak for being into someone so fragile. you are the very strongest guy, tf you want with a boy who breaks if you look at him wrong. what do you get out of that sir. he has complexes about this :) but I’m not going to elaborate on that because that’s what hell fic is for

“herons in phoenicis: conceptualizing the vulnerable body in hawk-normative society”, the title of my tellius gender studies thesis at the university of crimea or whatever

speaking of reyson. what does this mean for him. I need to talk about it because I’m obsessed with him. the commie stuff isn’t that much of a culture shock at least

but have some added fuckery: sole survivor, adapting to another culture, learning another language; lone chaos-sensitive empath in a sea of macho chaos-oriented dudes who aren’t very attuned to that kind of thing; also extremely physically distinctive in a way that is kind of weird at best

how do you even maintain a sense of personal identity when the baseline relevant factor is “you’re incomprehensibly different from everyone around you in every way possible”? I think reyson experiences some Gender about this. the most masculine heron is still a lily reed compared to even a fairly femme hawk

reyson’s gender, per the rest of the continent: male. reyson’s gender among hawks: heron

I imagine leanne is somewhat shielded from this once she comes round - she’s able to lean on reyson and naesala, and I figure she does, pretty heavily, considering she picks up maybe a few words of the modern tongue over the course of 3 years. she’s deliberately feminine, and also has already chosen her own terrible boyfriend [affectionate]. she’s not without her own traumas, but she’s more supported, and maybe is even in a place to kind of enjoy the confusion & attention she garners from being the sole girly-girl. I feel like she would.

and her terrible boyfriend [affectionate] is a raven, not a hawk. and by contrast, ravens are VERY attracted to herons. because herons are pretty. and ravens like shiny pretty things.

misc

I’m not quite committed enough to make constructed-culture art, but in my mind hawk visual & aural culture resembles late antique/early modern celtic styles in a few ways. insular culture yk. some book of kells bullshit.

(kinda weird, upon reflection, that phoenicis isn’t full of ancient tongue speakers, considering serenes was allegedly one of the few nations they were ever friendly with. and yet even tibarn understands very little ancient. at the very least, being the most isolated nation, it would make sense for the hawks to have their own modern dialect. but they don’t, that would have been hard for an FE game to pull off, and I’m not enough of a linguist to try. so it is what it is! maybe, even though they don’t fraternize with other nations, they’ve always kept pretty close tabs on them just in case, the necessity of spying facilitated the shift to modern. whereas serenes never did that. anyway sometimes the hawks sound a little irish in my head.)

they are also superstitious. all those lonely windswept coastal peaks, there’s a lot of howling winds, spooky nooks, weird environmental physics interacting with weather phenomena. you end up with stories about folk monsters. hawks know shit about ghosts, fairies, sirens, and banshees, and how to placate them if you piss them off. also the herons sometimes scare people to death because they wear nothing but white and drift around like specters.

I also have a lot of headcanons about herons. but they’re more feelingsy. so I’ll leave that go. I might add to this as I remember more stuff