#in the games hes actually the only one to ever talk about the crows in detail

[kurczeno]

it's so weird to see posts like "this is my rook, hes zevran's son and an antivan crow" bcs I'm not the one to be mean about the headcanons but...

is... is the child in their rebellious phase? Do they hate their father? I mean, have you even played the first game? Because the entire character arc of Zevran revolves around how much he hates the Crows, their cruel methods and that, besides being assassins, they are also a bunch of degenerate assholes. When he sees a bloody altar he's like "OH WE DID THAT SHIT IN THE CROWS TOO :)". They made him kill his lover, just so he remembered that he was nothing to them, that he was disposable, like everyone else. He dedicated a significant part of his life to killing off the guildmasters (not only of the House Arainai, as I felt Lucanis suggested? The whole banter with Harding proves the writers were too lazy to even, idk, read a wiki page). So I swear, the only explanation is that the child just got pissed at his father and was like "that's it, im joining the crows. Yes, dad, out of spite!", which I don't even think is possible, but. ok kiddo, that's a bit harsh.

and i mean, again, these are just headcanons so i shouldnt judge it but I feel like DAV is to blame here, bcs it twisted the Crows order so much, it's... bizarre. Someone just saw Zev's uniform and was like "how about we bring these guy's back, people will thirst over this, I think they're assassins or smth, so it's hot. Also make the uniform fucking ugly this time"

and i wouldnt have a problem with that, if it was supposed to shed a new light on the Crows. But that's absolutely not what they're doing, they straight up retconned it and I know DAV is a huge fucking retcon, but still why

(ps. I know Lucanis was not introduced in DAV, but the post isn't about him, but the Crows in general)

(also now that i think about it Zev would make an absolutely horrible father, so maybe his child really does hate him)

(its supposed to be more about the crows in dav in general and I assume that some people actually have a story about that crow thing. which could actually be interesting, fr)

[shy-writer-999]

Embarrassing Confessions: Zoro is a virgin and he's insecure (Part 1)

Warnings: MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS DNI. THIS IS NSFW CONTENT.

Author’s note: Part One is tame angst and pure plot (no smut), ~5,400 words. Part Two will have all the smut, so stick around for that. I have a fascination with the idea of Zoro pining over you in secret and getting flustered and embarrassed about it. In this fic, Zoro’s ego gets bruised and you comfort him. You both get drunk and Zoro runs his mouth too much. It’s a slow burn like my last fic and will also end with smut (◡‿◡✿) Plz note that the reader is sort of giving OC, she (you) gives a brief description of ‘losing’ her virginity to some guy from ‘back home’.

TW: Alcohol abuse – Zoro blacks out; also if you have emetophobia maybe skip this one? There's a brief nod to the usual hangover symptoms.

Embarrassing Confessions: Zoro is a virgin and he's insecure (Part 1)

Word on the ship was that Zoro was still a virgin. It had slipped out somehow, maybe in a game of spin the bottle or never-have-I-ever. But you learned about it secondhand when Sanji made fun of him for it, right in Zoro's face. Sanji said something crude, along the lines of "Zoro's just mad because his virgin ass has never gotten his dick wet."

Zoro was immediately livid. His face turned red and he snapped back with "Shut up Sanji, you don't even know what the fuck you're talking about. Fuck you." Genuinely upset, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. When Sanji and Zoro bickered it usually had an element of playfulness, casualness, genuine annoyance, yes, but... you weren't sure that Sanji had said anything this cruel and embarrassing before, outing something that Zoro was, obviously, uncomfortable with and most likely embarrassed by.

You were surprised, both by Zoro’s reaction and the simple fact itself. You had always assumed that Zoro got action wherever he went, I mean, look at him. To think that he had never felt the touch of a woman… you honestly couldn’t wrap your head around it. And you felt like a creep because you were intrigued by it. Truthfully, your intrigue was not arousal but rather an earnest desire to learn more about this man who you had been developing feelings for, for months.

The only person who knew about your feelings was Nami. As soon as Sanji made the remark and Zoro stormed out, you immediately looked at Nami, and she glanced at you at the same time. It was like you exchanged a thought or read each other’s minds, one of those unspoken moments with your best friend across the room. It was a “what the fuck?” moment, a split second, but you knew that Nami would want you to go after Zoro and try to comfort him somehow.

You loved Sanji like a brother, but sometimes he could be a real asshole. “Nice one, Sanji,” you said sardonically, dead-pan and annoyed. “I think that was over the line this time.” You stared him down coldly. He immediately jumped to self-defense, but you waved your hand and told him to “can it,” as you exited onto the deck to see if Zoro was doing okay. You had no idea what you would say to him to make him feel better and you were sure that anything you said would come off as corny and patronizing, but you were damned well going to try. After all, it seemed like no one on the ship could talk about these things with Zoro except for you. There was something about you that made him open up, show a softer side, share things that he would otherwise have kept to himself.

Zoro was nowhere to be seen on deck, so that left only one option. You climbed up to the crow’s nest where he was sitting, scowling, and looking out over the open ocean. He was clearly mulling over Sanji’s comment in his head, turning it over and examining it from different angles, sitting in the embarrassment and trying to figure out why he felt so much shame. He never had put much energy into women, had no urge to ‘lose’ his virginity, as if that was an actual object that one could lose (he scoffed at the thought).

For a long time, Zoro felt like he wasn’t missing out on anything—as far as women were concerned, he couldn’t be asked. But in the past few months he had been feeling differently, no thanks to you. That’s why when he saw you climb into the crow’s nest after suffering that embarrassment from Sanji, he muttered fuck to himself and scowled even harder.

“Spare me the embarrassment,” he grumbled, turning his face away from you. He was starting to blush, but you didn’t notice it.

“That got you pretty worked up, huh?” You sat down on the floor near to him, cocking your head so you could peer more into his face, inspecting his impression, which he obviously did not feel like sharing.

Your observation was met with a terse silence.

“Hey, Zoro?” You said softly. He turned to meet your eyes as your tone shifted and you were caught off guard by how vulnerable and tortured his expression was. “It’s not a big deal. No one on the crew cares or thinks any less of you. Sanji was just trying to get under your skin, he didn’t mean to be cruel or malicious. You know he loves you like a brother.”

Zoro sighed and rested his head in his hands. “I know. I don’t know why I let that jackass piss me off so much… I guess he struck a nerve. I- I’ve been feeling… I don’t fucking know. I guess I’ve been feeling kind of... self-conscious about it, recently…” He trailed off. You were shocked by his candor. You were used to him being honest and more vulnerable with you, but this was more than you had been expecting. He was truly opening up to you. You had never seen him show an ounce of self-doubt or insecurity before.

“Yeah?” You prompted, feeling like he had more that he wanted to say. He turned to you again.

“I never really gave a shit about this kind of stuff before, y’know? I’ve got other stuff to keep me busy. But… recently… I don’t know.” He sighed.

You nodded in response. Zoro was a man of few words when it came to emotional vulnerability, and you could tell that the conversation was coming to a close.

“Well, Zoro, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. I was kind of a late bloomer so… I get it.” You looked at him carefully. “Let’s grab a drink later, ‘kay?” He nodded, and that was it.

You didn’t know that you were the main reason Zoro had been reflecting on being a ‘virgin’ (he hated that word). Talking to you about it made him feel some sort of way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something inside of him twisted a little bit when you had looked into his eyes so seriously and with so much care. He tried to shrug it off and went back to cursing Sanji in his head, avoiding the actual dilemma he was facing, choosing escapism and mentally berating Sanji instead.

---

That night, you and Zoro cracked open a few bottles of sake, as promised. You had done this countless times in the past and nothing weird or unexpected happened except a few lingering glances that you both played off. But tonight it seemed like Zoro was drinking more than usual. You got the impression that he was drinking away his sorrows or drinking to forget about how genuinely upset he had been earlier in the day.

You were matching his drinks, as you sometimes did, just for fun. It felt like a kind of silly competition between you two sometimes. But keeping up tonight was hard, you were already getting a stomachache and could feel the dehydration creeping in… you knew the hangover was going to be a monster.

When he got drunk drunk, Zoro could become callous, rude, sarcastic, kind of an ass. He never really sent that in your direction, it was frequently towards Sanji, sometimes Usopp, Luffy, even Nami, if he really was going crazy. It was your least favorite characteristic about him; it was concerning, and it was a huge turn-off. But usually it wasn’t too bad, only mildly annoying. At worst, it gave you a sort of mini-ick.

Tonight was shaping up to be one of those nights, had it not taken an unexpected left turn. You and Zoro were the only crew members drinking, and everyone else was doing their own thing. It was dusk, warm outside, and the stars overhead were already breathtaking. You found yourselves back in the crow’s nest. This was honestly Zoro’s safe space—the isolation gave him peace of mind.

Zoro was laying on his side, with his head propped up on one arm, leisurely facing you. You had been bickering and talking over silly things for a couple hours at this point, like tidbits of sword-making history, or how much meat you’ve seen Luffy eat at once. After a lull in conversation, Zoro finally broached what had been on his mind all day, a nagging thought at the back of his head that he knew that he shouldn’t ask, but he grew bolder as he got drunker. And he was getting drunker.

“Hey, Y/N,” he began. “When did you lose your virginity?”

That was really out of the blue. You were shocked by the question, not expecting it at all. You two had never talked about anything like this. Oftentimes it was Sanji crossing the line and you telling him to fuck off. But for Zoro to go there…? Weird. He was presumably just wondering about it since you said you were a late bloomer too, and you guessed he must be seeking validation. After all, he was obviously embarrassed about the whole thing. A little reassurance and sincerity couldn’t hurt.

“Well, uh…” You hesitated. “I actually had sex for the first time a couple years ago.” That was enough of an answer, right? No point in oversharing.

“What was that like?” He got bolder, locking eyes with you. He was certainly drunk, and you were too. But beyond that, you felt the vibe shift and his eyes seemed more intense. Your voice got caught in your throat for a second. He probably was just seeking some reassurance, right? Everyone always talked about how they had a horrible first time, I’m sure he’s looking for more confirmation or something like that because he’s insecure… you said to yourself.

“Oh, uh… It wasn’t the best first time but also not the worst. It wasn’t as bad as everyone kind of makes their first time seem, if you know what I mean? It was with some guy from my hometown, we grew up together. Kind of like a childhood crush, boy-next-door type of vibe.”

Zoro felt a pang of jealousy. The alcohol pushed him deeper into a grave of embarrassment, rash behavior, and unspoken boundary breaking that he was about to start digging.

“Lucky guy.” He murmured, barely audible, as he shifted onto his back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, now staring straight up. You could see him exhale, jaw clenching.

Wait, what did he just say? ‘Lucky guy’?

You had no idea how to respond to that. He seemed to be implying that the man you slept with was lucky. And why would that be?

An unsure “What?” escaped your lips. It was purely a reflex, you weren’t expecting a real answer, you figured he was going to laugh it off, you heard him wrong, something like that. This was like really out of character for him, at least in your experience. You had honestly wondered if he was asexual sometimes because he just never said stuff like this and had never talked about it to anyone on crew. To hear him ask about this sort of thing after all this time was surprising. Maybe there was a side to him that you never knew.

Without hesitation, Zoro responded immediately, doubling down. “I said, lucky guy.” He turned and looked at you and blush quickly flooded your face. He wasn’t smiling, and his gaze was bold and almost piercing, so… it wasn’t a joke. Unless it was? If he was fucking with you then that would be weird as hell.

“Oh, uh… I guess he was lucky! Hahaha…” You tried to play it off with an awkward smile and half-hearted chuckle, hoping he didn’t notice that your face was bright red.

But Zoro kept going. “Were you surprised that I’m still a virgin?” You now realized he was faintly slurring his words. “I’m just curious.”

What was up with all these questions? You sighed. Well, whatever he wants to find out I guess he’ll find out. Looks like we’re playing 20 questions.

“Yeah, Zoro,” you responded. “To be honest, I was surprised.”

“Why?”  He asked forcefully, but this time he sat up from where he was laying and pulled himself a couple of feet in your direction. This would make him maybe a foot away from you, looking at you straight on. Your heart beat quickened.

Ok now this is getting weird. What is his angle? He must be feeling bad about the whole thing and now he’s fishing for compliments. With this conclusion, you rolled your eyes at him and exhaled. You could be playful with him now that you realized he just had a bruised ego, it wasn’t more serious than that. He was being a little pathetic, but that was all.

“Zoro, I’m surprised because you’re manly, strong, and attractive. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You kind of laughed.

And while you thought Zoro was fishing for compliments, you were wrong. He was finally asking you questions that had been burning in his mind for days. He sincerely wanted to know what you really thought of him, simple as that. And he was curious about your sexual life. He certainly was very drunk but even so, he still cringed as he asked each question. But fuck, he just had to know. He wanted to know so bad that he felt like he was suffocating. He had to have answers, but he was getting dizzy, his body felt heavy, all he knew was that he wanted to be closer to you.

He scooted closer again, so that your knees were touching. At this point your heart was beating out of your chest. His face was less than a foot away from yours. He may not have known, but you did have a painfully intense crush on him, and his closeness was having quite the effect on you. It was the same for him, too.

“Do you really mean that, or are you just saying it?” He slurred out again, stronger this time, leaning even closer. Your faces were maybe six inches away now. You were likewise feeling intoxicated, and it made time feel like it was slowing down, slogging along. Your intoxication was making you not only extremely thirsty (in both ways) but it was making you hyper aware and locked in to the blisteringly intense eye contact Zoro was holding with you, almost not blinking.

“I-I really mean it.” You squeaked out, almost as a whisper. Holy fuck, was he about to kiss you?

“Good.” He mumbled, and then he placed one of his huge hands on the cusp of your knee and thigh. He squeezed. You inhaled sharply. His eyes were still glued to yours. There’s no way he didn’t see your blush, it was vivid. He started to lean in, maybe for a kiss, perhaps he was advancing with no goal other than to be closer to you.

Right when you felt like you were about to explode from the blood rushing to your face and your heart beating out of your chest, Zoro’s eyes closed and he abruptly collapsed forward into your lap, letting out what sounded like a groan and then… was that…. Snoring? It looked like the alcohol suddenly hit him like a truck all at once.

Sure enough, you leaned over him and saw that he was passed out on your lap, mossy hair ruffled, and his mouth open ever so slightly. He is prone to sleeping randomly, you shrugged, and God, he looks so good. He even smelled good.

You sat there until you calmed yourself down, feeling his heavy weight in your lap, the warmth of his skin pressing onto yours. He hadn’t let go of your thigh yet. You shook his shoulder lightly. It was time for the night to be over—he needed to get off you so that you could get him water, a pillow, and a blanket. He’d have to fall asleep up in the crow’s nest because there was no way you could pick him up or drag him downstairs.

“Hey, Zoro?” You said softly. “Zoro, you need to wake up a bit. You need to move so I can get you a pillow and blanket. It’s bedtime. Hey.” You shook him again and couldn’t help but notice the hard ripples of his muscles under his shirt. You paused for a moment and patted his head. “Zoro. Wake up.”

“Wha-what?” He groaned, raising his head ever so slightly.

“Zoro, I need to get up really quick. Lay down on your side for me, ok?

He groaned again, making your heart skip a beat. Fuck, that noise was hot. Sheesh.

Evidently a colossal effort, Zoro squeezed your thigh tightly one last time then raised himself just barely enough to collapse onto his side on the floor next to you. You peered at him for a second, thinking he was passed out again, making sure he was ok. As you rose to your feet and started to climb downstairs, he stirred.

“Baaaby,” he grunted out needily. “Are you coming back, baabbbyy? Don’t just leave me up here, Y/N.” You froze and looked at him. He was in the same position, with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. And yes, you had heard him right. Because he had said it damn loud. Holy shit, that made you feel some sort of way. But Zoro was so drunk at this point there’s no way he could have any control over his words. The lights were on but no one was home. He mumbled your name one more time.

“Zoro, I’ll be right back, I’m grabbing you a blanket and a pillow,” you quipped back, and he murmured something nonsensical while you started the quick descent to the deck.

It took you less than a minute to get him a blanket, a pillow, a glass of water, and a bucket, in case he threw up. You grabbed yourself a pillow and blanket, too. You couldn’t conscience letting him sleep up there by himself when he was so drunk. It took you a couple trips, but you managed to bring everything up to the crow’s nest. Zoro looked like he was proper passed out, so you spread the blanket over him and knelt by his head. Again, you shook his shoulder softly. “Zoro, lift your head up. I brought you a pillow.” He complied. He looked so sweet and soft. You wished you could kiss his cheeks a hundred times and run your fingers through his hair so badly.

You dragged your own blanket and pillow to the other side of the nook, giving him as much space as you could. Moments after you curled up and shut your eyes, Zoro stirred again, letting off another string of vaguely suggestive entreaties. “Y/N,” he murmured, “why’re you… all the way over there… you don’t wanna… w-wwanna sleep with me???”

This poor dude isn’t going to remember a thing tomorrow, you thought. In this moment you pitied him. You were sure he just wanted you to come cuddle with him, which was really sweet and all, but he was way too drunk right now to be touched with a ten-foot pole. And you already knew that if he remembered any of this tomorrow, he’d be too embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“Zoro, go to bed, sweetie, it’s getting late.” He did some more grumbling and nonsensical whining in response but soon he was out like a light, and you followed suit quickly.

---

Sure enough, Zoro woke up at sunrise feeling like absolute shit. He was hungover. Monstrously hungover. He couldn’t remember most of the tail end of last night and that made him uneasy, embarrassed at the thought that he could have said something out of pocket to you. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of drunkenly confessing his feelings. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to work the stiffness out of his neck, he realized that you were sleeping peacefully across from him. You must have brought out the pillows and blankets, the bucket and glass of water (which he promptly chugged). His heart twisted a bit when he realized how thoughtful and caring you had been towards him. Fuck.

You were breathing quietly, sleeping on your side facing him. Your hair was messed up, all flopped to one side, your face was soft and sweet. He just watched you sleep for a few minutes, realizing that he was being creepy as fuck but thinking he would not have the opportunity to sit and stare at you like this for a long time. He was taken with you. Anything that you felt even remotely insecure about, Zoro loved about you. On top of that, he thought you were ethereally beautiful; he would muse over how soft your skin must be, how good your hair must smell, how he hoped he’d be able to see the color of your eyes closer, how beautifully your lips turned up into a smile whenever you would see him. He wasn’t merely infatuated with your beauty—it was more than that. He admired you as a person, he thought you were brilliant, smart, and kind.

Fuck. He berated himself. You fucking idiot, what did you say to her?

He remembered asking you when you lost your virginity—or, er… did he ask you how you lost it? It was hazy. He certainly remembered throwing back the glasses of sake like they were water.

He blushed crimson immediately upon remembering that he made some comment like “lucky guy” or “lucky dude” while referring to the first man you had sex with. Fuck, that was embarrassing. And he had a feeling that he took it one step further than that, maybe he said or did something else… he wasn’t sure at that point. He hoped he hadn’t done anything that made you feel uncomfortable or unsafe.

Zoro rarely ever drank this much—he must have been feeling extra bothered and upset by Sanji’s comment about his virginity. Zoro knew that drinking was a horrible, horrible way of coping with his feelings. But sometimes he felt like he just wanted to self-sabotage or self-indulge in feeling like shit. And alcohol certainly made him feel like shit. But he had never drank this much when you were around.

Zoro wasn’t so sure how Drunk Zoro would handle your presence. He had a sinking feeling that he probably made himself look like an ass. Maybe he got way too loud, maybe he overstepped with his questions, maybe he came off as some huge, perverted creep trying to get a better picture about what it would be like to fuck you. He felt many, many pangs of regret and repulsion at himself. He was being hard on himself.

And while it definitely would have embarrassed him, and he would have felt more ashamed than he already did by knowing everything he said, he would have been surprised to know that the version of Drunk Zoro with only you around wanted nothing more than to be close with you—evidenced by the scooting closer, touching your thigh, staring deeply into your eyes, entreaties to sleep with (or was that by?) him. But he had no way of knowing what he did yet, because you were asleep, and he was prideful.

All this angsty reflection and regret was quickly interrupted by the hangover. He needed to do something about that. It was becoming a problem fast. He refused to make any sort of use out of that bucket while you were around. So, he swiped up the bucket, his empty glass, his pillow and blanket, and shuffled down the ladder steps.

---

When he was feeling less disgusting and had chugged a few more glasses of water, Zoro wondered what to do with himself. He would normally be up in the crow’s nest around this time of morning. And it didn’t escape him that you were going to be extremely hungover as well, especially because you had been matching his drinks for the most part (he could remember that) and you had way less of a tolerance than him.

He decided that he ought to bring up some water to you and hang out up there until you woke up. Maybe he’d be able to gauge how massively he fucked up by your expression or demeanor. Only one way to find out. Also, he’d take any opportunity and use any excuse to spend some peace and quiet with you. It was a treat that he rarely got.

He filled a big glass of water for you, and something struck him—what if he brought you up some fruit for breakfast? Would that be weird? He knew that you usually had fruit for breakfast, so… why not? He couldn’t think about it too much or else he’d clam up and get too shy. Fuck it, he told himself. Fruit it is. What’s an added benefit was that no one else was awake to tease him about bringing you breakfast or spending the night with you. So he took a couple of extra minutes to wash up and chop some fruit for you. He plated it as neatly as he could and grabbed a napkin as well. It was a simple but wholesome, caring gesture.

By the time Zoro was making his way back up to the crow’s nest, you had been awake for a minute or two. You were stretching as he climbed into the nook and your eyes met his with a sweet smile. “Good morning,” you chirped, feeling like shit from the hangover, but also tickled that you got to spend just a little bit more time with Zoro. You thought there was absolutely no way he remembered any of the advances or suggestive remarks from last night, and you wouldn’t hold any of it against him or treat him any differently for it. You were just happy to be hanging out with him, and the morning was beautiful. You felt no pressure or even desire to let him know everything that he said last night in the pits of drunken belligerence, and you didn’t plan on sharing unless he prompted.

“Hey,” he greeted you and placed the plate of fruit and glass of water next to you. “Here’s some breakfast. Figured it may get me even with you, since you took care of me last night. Sorry if I was an ass.”

Zoro was doing something as sweet as bringing you breakfast? You knew he had it in him. You always thought that there was some softness and sweetness to him, under those tough layers. Gosh, this was really nice of him.

“Thanks for bringing me fruit!” You responded. “You didn’t make an ass out of yourself, you were actually being really sweet,” you smiled again, and his heart skipped a beat. It felt like it twisted a little bit. Fuck, he had such a crush on you. He felt cringey and awkward when you were around sometimes, hyperaware of his every move, wondering how you felt about him. It was so easy for him to blush when you were around, too. He hoped every time that you couldn’t see it. He knew now that he must have been turning various shades of pink and red because he felt the hot blood rise to his face… and this time you did notice. His cheeks took on a pinkish flush, a shade that fitted him so well. God, he’s so cute, you thought to yourself. He was blushing so hard because you called him sweet.

“Oh, uh.. Sweet? What do you mean?” He acknowledged what you said out loud, putting out a sort of rhetorical question. How had he been sweet? Were you referring to the intrusive questions about your virginity, or did he do something else? What on earth could that mean?

You felt like teasing him a little bit with your answer—nothing too serious, since he seemed a little worried about it. “Yeah, you were sweet… you did call me baby a couple of times. It wasn’t too bad.”

Zoro turned crimson. He started to stutter out an apology— “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Zoro,” you cut him off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. You were super drunk.” He attempted to stutter out another apology and you waved your hand. “Don’t worry, seriously, it wasn’t creepy or anything, it was cute.”

Neither of you thought Zoro could blush any harder, but he did. Cute? He was getting so flustered. He took a beat before hoarsely choking out a response. He expected that he had been a bit weird but… calling you baby? Get a grip, man! He scolded himself. But if that was all… it could have been a lot worse.

“Aghhh… Did I do anything else humiliating?” He asked, shaking his head and covering his eyes with his hand, visibly cringing. He didn’t even think to ask what context he called you baby in. It didn’t matter. He had called you baby, and that was that.

“I wouldn’t say it was humiliating but when you were falling asleep you kind of like… asked me to get in bed with you? It wasn’t creepy though, I think you were chilly.”

Zoro’s jaw dropped. Oh my fucking god. Get in bed with her?! What the fuck? He reprimanded himself internally. This was so much worse than he could have imagined. “Look, I’m so, so sorry I… I don’t know what got into me. I’m sorry, I-”

“Zoro, don’t worry about it, seriously. It was endearing and I didn’t take it any sort of negative way.” You took note of how absolutely vivid red his cheeks were. His fists were clenched. Poor guy was obviously going through it.

Zoro was turning the words over in his mind again and again—sweet, cute, endearing. He had never received any of this sort of praise from you before and it made his stomach flip.

Suddenly a shrill voice cut through the air. “Y/N, MY DEAREST SWEET~~ WOULD YOU LIKE SOME COFFEE MY DARLING?” Sanji shouted up to you in the crow’s nest.

You smiled and rolled your eyes at Zoro, sort of mocking Sanji. “Let’s do this again soon, Zoro… silliness aside… I had a really nice time. You really were being sweet so don’t worry about it. I’m going to get some coffee and take a shower. Thanks for the fruit!” You gathered your fruit and glass and shouted back down at Sanji. “Coming!” You did one last pretty smile and wave and then descended below.

Zoro was still reeling from the revelations of his drunken antics. He could have jumped overboard right about now, had it not been for your repeated description of him as “sweet” and “cute.” Your words rang in his ears—“Let’s do this again soon, Zoro.”

So he had called you baby and tried to get you to sleep with him, but it had been sweet and cute? It didn’t really make sense to Zoro but something inside of him fluttered a little bit. You weren’t totally averse and disgusted towards him after last night, so… that was good, right?

Zoro was absolutely mind-fucked at the whole interaction. He was kicking himself in embarrassment, flustered, bright red, his heart was beating out of his chest, but he was also ecstatic because you said you wanted to spend more time with him again. He was completely ashamed but buzzing at the same time. He hadn’t felt like this in years and years, in fact, he wasn’t sure if he had ever been this worked up about a crush before.

Upon second thought, he realized that he did have a shadow of a memory of him calling you baby, along with a suggestion in his mind of the moment when he groaned your name and begged you to come to bed with him. He had wanted you to curl up next to him and sleep there, to be close with him, to feel your warmth, your skin, your heartbeat. He couldn’t believe that all of this started because Sanji’s asshole remark yesterday about his virginity. And there was that virginity and you, two things that were currently posing a problem for him. He could only let himself fantasize slightly about fucking you, but… he didn’t let himself get too carried away (yet).

Stay tuned for part two: Zoro is yet again sexually frustrated, and you decide to help him solve his problem (smut, smut, smut)!

Update: Here's part two!

And here's my masterlist...

♡＾▽＾♡ (◕ㅅ◕✿) ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! - Z

[sanjisboyfie]

yandere zoro headcanons

male reader of course <3 also this is actually a very soft yandere zoro, nothing super duper hardcore...i think

yandere ! zoro . . . just expects you to know that he likes you. it's so annoying. he does the bare minimum and genuinely thinks that's enough for you to know. he's held the door open for you one time and equated that to a love confession. because he's not gonna ever blatantly confess to you, so he does these other minuscule things to get your attention and make it "known" that he likes you.

yandere ! zoro . . . will be at your beck and call. he will do whatever you ask of him. he'll act like its annoying, but he is more than happy to do whatever you ask him. it's undeniably a really sweet gesture that he does, but sometimes he gets really pushy and aggressive with it. the reason why is because he wants you to completely rely on him, even for your own basic needs. he wants to be doing everything for you for the power-trip and control it gives him.

"give it to me," zoro gruffly said, taking the bags from your arms. you were more than capable in carrying the groceries, but zoro took them off your hands. he knew you could handle them, but he felt the need to aid you.

"i am more than capabl-"

"shut up, i'm doing you a favor," zoro rejected your want to carry the bags, shaking his head.

"fine, thanks, zoro." a flash of your gentle smile was enough to send him into a flustered, crimson red blushing state.

yandere ! zoro . . . kind of going hand in hand with ^ that one, zoro would easily kill for you. the amount of dead bodies you'd be responsible for would be uncountable. every single man or woman thats hit on you has - unknowing to you - have been murdered by zoro. he doesn't take people trying to take you away from him lightly. to him its serious enough he needs to take their life. and he has and he will continue to.

yandere ! zoro . . . is very pushy on affections. it may sound out of character, but zoro never thought he'd get lucky enough to find someone like you. so now he's found you, he's gonna be selfish about, as far as he can go.

zoro had a nasty habit of physically taking you away from conversations. it would be out of nowhere - when you're just playing games with chopper and then you're suddenly being thrown over zoro's shoulder. you could try fighting against him all you want, but he easily overpowers you.

and when you're finally dropped onto the crow's nests floor, you berate him, "what's your issue?! chopper and i were talking you know!"

"i know," zoro says, not bothered one bit by your shouting.

"so?" you say expectingly, not enjoying how nonchalant he was being about the whole situation.

"if you're my boyfriend, don't i have the right to spend time with you?"

"i can still have friends though,"

zoro yawned, taking you into his lap and trapping you in hie arms, "come on, let's just sleep. we don't have to keep talking about stupid shit like this,"

"you can't just-"

a hand on the back of your head made you crash into his chest and effectively shut you up, his chest silencing you as you were smothered (suffocated) in it.

yandere ! zoro . . . has two sides of his personality - one he uses with you, and only with you, and then the side he shows everyone else. he never speaks as softly as he does with you as he does with other people. he's hyper aware that he looks intimidating to others, but he goes out of his way to be softer with you. it's sweet, honestly, but it's terrifying to see it happen in real time.

zoro had an arm drapped around your shoulder, simply following in whatever direction you took him to. whenever he saw something that he'd think you'd like, he pointed it out to you with a hidden smile.

"wait, look, do you like it?" zoro gently asked, picking up the ring and examining it in the natural light, "i can get it for you, if you want?"

"but it's pretty expensive-"

"don't worry about it, i can afford it," zoro shrugged, enjoying the way your eyes brightened. if only he could keep that for himself completely, hide you away from the rest of the world.

the two of them walked up to the vendor. zoro's soft smile was wiped away in an instant, looking gruff and annoyed at the man, "this one."

"what a lovely ring, you two are-"

"could you just hurry up? our crew might leave without us," zoro lied, already so annoyed with the innocent man who was just doing his job. you slapped him on the chest, shooting him a look.

seeing the disappointed expression on your face, he faltered in his glare a little bit. and an embarassed blush came onto his face, looking to the side and forcing himself to not glare at the vendor.

the man looked grateful for your intervention, quickly taking the exchange of beri and handing you the ring. a quick thank you left your lips before you walked out of there, zoro in tow.

"you're such an asshole," you murmured in annoyance, shrugging off his arm from your shoulder.

"babe, c'mon, don't-" but he shut up immediately when he saw the look you shot him, a warning look. it worked and he kept quiet the rest of the walk to sunny.

he practically grovelled for forgiveness the rest of the night, only gaining it back when he gently put the ring around your finger and peppered kisses on your face.

yandere ! zoro . . . is really only nice and doting to you - he doesn't give a shit about anyone else but you and makes it known. it earns him a scolding but he needs you to know that everyone that isn't you doesn't even cross his mind. you're the only person he thinks about and will continue to think about - everyone else isn't even worthy of being as important as you are in his head. you are the only thing he cares about, he devotes his entire strength in making it known he is at your disposal.

[inhuman-obey-me]

Trouble in Gambler's Paradise

What's this? We actually got a little bit of political intrigue in Nightbringer Lessons 51 + 52 amid all the usual shenanigans? In our OM?! It's...not as likely as we wish, but we did get some!

(spoilers for NB Lessons 51 and 52 below the cut)

A quick recap: Our entire cast is going to Meowcao to fulfill Mammon's wish after he won in the RAD Science Fair for Devildom Geography. They have the entire town reserved for three days thanks to Diavolo, as he is a major shareholder for the Three-Legged Crow Group, which powers most of the technology in Meowcao. Him being the Demon Prince is probably also part of it, though what we find out makes this all the more interesting.

MC, the brothers, and the Purgatory Hall gang all arrive in Meowcao and end up getting roped into a game -- they have to gamble their souls. While that sounds about right for the Devildom, it's quickly made clear that this is an unusual request and we're now in danger.

For once, this particular situation is not due to some curse but happens because Meowcao is actually home to a considerable number of demons that oppose the Demon King. We find this out from Diavolo himself as he travels with Barbatos, Thirteen, and Mephistopheles to catch up with the others in Meowcao.

Thirteen and Mephistopheles point out that this makes the trip open to danger, and sure enough, none of them can get in contact with the rest of the cast as we're all trapped in a life-or-death situation.

Something we have a constant gripe with in OM is that we have a very powerful cast, yet somehow they end up in situations that they should all easily be able to get out of -- but thankfully, now and then, the game does give us a logical reason, and this is one of those times. In this case, the reason the magic worked on our cast is because it was originally Diavolo's. He had used magic to set up a fun welcome game for everyone using the three mascots of the Three-Legged Crow Group, but it was then hijacked by the hostile demons.

We were able to escape with our lives thanks to some clever thinking by Belphie, and after reuniting with the entire cast it seems we can all just go and have some fun.

Right?

We're then given the choice between shopping, the theme park, or the casino. Each scenario puts you with different characters, but they all include a similar situation -- a random demon showing up to attack.

In all three scenarios, MC is fortunately able to quickly use their magic to stop the demon. Notably, if you choose shopping, Solomon hones in on the fact that we were able to do it without having to recite an incantation. The demon then gives up and disappears, and we resume doing our fun activities like nothing ever happened.

It's only when MC brings it up the next day that anything gets addressed -- but it's just focused on MC's magic. They note that MC's power is getting stronger, making them susceptible to magic sickness and the potential to lose control. Solomon says he'll be mindful of that in his trainings with you, and tells everyone that they need to keep MC's growing magical power in mind.

You know what we don't talk about though?

The actual attacks!

Sure, the demons were quickly taken care of by MC's attack spell, but you would think there would be a bit more conversation around the fact that our cast was attacked multiple times by hostile demons! And in all three cases of the latter attack, the mystery demon specifically calls out their relationship with "the future Demon King" as the reason for targeting them. Will we see that get addressed in later lessons? The naming of "Demon A" does seem to imply the existence of a "Demon B", "Demon C", etc...so maybe! But given OM's track record, we also wouldn't count on it.

Over the course of OM's story, it's been reiterated that Diavolo's RAD Exchange Program is not heavily favored. Some demons at RAD have slowly come around as they've gotten to know the exchange students, but he is still fighting a constant uphill battle as he tries to forge peace among the Three Realms -- and these recent lessons show that there are still some demons who are ready to take more drastic actions to bring it all to a halt.

[thedevilrisen]

Hospital - 5

TW: HOSPITALS, nothing bad, just a description of someone in a hospital.

Nova Crosby -

1:16am

Theorising while sitting in an intensive care waiting room at quarter past one in the morning is never a good idea. Particularly after being given fodder such as an unplanned emergency surgery, both men had their own ideas on what could have happened. Knowing the extent of Nova's condition before she was whisked away at the emergency room Luke was trying to use Sid's aged wisdom to conclude what happened. But both of them had absolutely nothing.

Standing, leaning against the granite kitchenette counter which was more so holding the exhausted form of Sidney up while he skulled the dregs of his third coffee. Religiously Sid only had one coffee a day on decaf, but in such a drastic situation where he needed to be as awake as possible if the promised Nurse ever actually came. Each time a pair of lone footsteps clacked down the hall Sid or Luke, whoever was closest to the door looked out to check if it was a Nurse.

Two times it was the food delivery, bringing in product for the next day, one it was the cleaner and three times orderlies who were moving wheelchairs back to the spots they needed to go to. Every time Sid became more agitated, the patient Canadian niceness was wearing thin, exceptionally fast. Each time it wasn't a nurse with answers and every minute that ticked by that the phone didn't ring with answers his frustration exponentially increased.

"I think I'm going fucking insane Luke." Sid mumbled, pouring hot water into another cup loaded with instant coffee. His incessant grumbling and almost permanently creased brow was giving away the fact that he hadn't had an emotional outlet since he left the game almost six hours prior. He had held Luke through his initial crash when he first arrived and had gave him a pat on the back and or shoulder rub depending on where he was when Luke needed a little extra comforting.

Luke was now almost apathetic, but Sid. Sidney was dangerously toeing the line of complete and utter meltdown. He prided himself on his sturdy and tentative nature. He was kind, never raised his voice, except when Nova goes joy riding with a bunch of college boys to New Jersey for the weekend- ... but thats a different story. Sidney solidly believed that any rebellious situation Nova had been in would be better than this right now. He could control it, make sure she was safe and okay. See with his own two eyes, not matter how red they were hazed with his rage that she was okay.

"I know what you're talking about Sid. I feel like I could drop asleep any minute but it's Murphy's law. I do that and suddenly she's awake and we can see her." Luke half slurred, half grumbled.

"This is fucking ridiculous, where did they say the ICU room is?" Sid spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument, although Luke tried.

"Sid, I'm as upset as you. It's only been a little while since the call, they are probably getting her sorted." The optimism coming from Luke slathered in monotonous tonality fell about as flat as a crepe to floor.

"No, that's my fucking daughter!" Sid launched back, the string holding him up seemed to fray ever so thinner. "Give me th-"

A gentle knocking sounded from the door, as a young Nurse, clad in burgundy scrubs poked her head in, pushing the door open, "Are you with Nova Crosby?"

"About fucking time!" Sidney crows, the clench of his fist in the fabric of his suit pant pocket is enough to give away the fact that he is fuming.

"I'm sorry Sir, we've been as quick as we could, you can come see her now if you want." The Nurse was desperately trying to diffuse Sid's anger, not directed at her but rather the situation.

"We'd love that." He spoke through gritted teeth. Checking Luke was following him as they began down the hall where they met a coded door that the nurse typed in and were led into a a white room with two sinks.

"If you could please wash your hands before coming in, it assists us in making sure the patients aren't compromised." before she had even finished both boys had started scrubbing, very thoroughly for their waning patience. When they finished the nurse led them through the ICU department towards the back where surrounded by a blue medical curtain was a bed. In that bed Nova laid, a fraction of consciousness, behind her bed was a plethora of machines which beeped and rang in their timely fashion. Sidney couldn't figure out when he went from fine to hyperventilating as he stared at his daughter, so young and fragile swaddled in white hospital blankets, akin to the ones she was handed to him for the first time he held her.

The ugly tubes coming out of her arms, cannulas in her elbow and top of her hand, a feeding tube coming out of her nose, a heart monitor connected directly to her chest. It was all too much, he didn't know he was crying and how obvious it had become that his mental capacity for the situation was declining greatly.

"Sir." A middle aged man in a white coat coxed him towards a door, leading him away from Nova. Pushing him outside as he looked a Luke who had sat down beside her, the moment romantic but catastrophic.

"That's my girl!" Sid roared in anguish, "Thats- THATS MY BABY."

"Sir, you need to calm down."

"NO DON'T TELL ME ANYTHING. Thats my baby girl! I have raised her for nineteen years, I of all people deserved to know what happened to her as soon as I arrived! Do you know how much she means to me, seeing her like is equivalent to ripping my heart out and piercing it with a stake!" Sid was hysterically now, loud voice echoing throughout the deserted hallway. "I need to know! I need you to do your fucking job and not be incompetent! Please."

The doctor led Sid to a chair and sat him down. "I'm a father too, I understand your anguish." he took a deep breath, "I will tell you everything but I must warn you, it will hurt and be a shock to the system. My team and I are dedicated to helping your daughter though, I want you to trust we will do everything in our power to help."

Sid took a deep breath, this was going to be a long conversation.

[julibf]

JON WAS PROMISED TO SANSA

So, one of my favorite theories that I have seen floating sometimes is that Jon Snow is actually The prince that was promised to Sansa. The idea is that Lyanna not only asked Ned Stark to protect Jon, but also, asked him to marry his first born daughter to her son, in order to fulfil an important prophecy and that the breaking of this promised is what led for all this pain and sorrow to fall onto House Stark. This would parallel the pact made by Doran Martell promising his older daughter to Viserys Targaryen, both men made promises to marry their daughters to Targaryen princes, yet both failed to fulfill their promises.

What if Jon and Sansa had been betrothed all their lives since their birth? What if this union is very important for the future of Westeros and the Gods are making everything possible for them to be together?  This would be a big twist in the end of the story, because the reader usually associates Ned Stark with someone who takes oaths very seriously, yet, having the hero of the story breaking an oath and disgracing himself its kind the story that George likes to write. In A GAME OF THRONES there is a lot of hints that Ned actually broke his promise to Lyanna.

********************** He slept and woke and slept again. He did not know which was more painful, the waking or the sleeping. When he slept, he dreamed: dark disturbing dreams of blood and broken promises. When he woke, there was nothing to do but think, and his waking thoughts were worse than nightmares. (A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV) **************************

Ned keeps on dreaming about broken promises…….

*************************** The thought of Jon filled Ned with a sense of shame, and a sorrow too deep for words. If only he could see the boy again, sit and talk with him … pain shot through his broken leg, beneath the filthy grey plaster of his cast. (A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV) *****************************

In his lasts moments Ned is thinking of Jon and the memories of him bring immense shame and sorrow. Remember, not only he never told Jon about his mother, he also allowed the boy to join the Nights Watch without ever explain to him how truly terrible that place was. I am certain now that Ned Stark broke a very serious promise to his sister…

******************************************

The mention of dreams reminded him. "I dreamed about the crow again last night. The one with three eyes. He flew into my bedchamber and told me to come with him, so I did. We went down to the crypts. Father was there, and we talked. He was sad." "And why was that?" Luwin peered through his tube. "It was something to do about Jon, I think." The dream had been deeply disturbing, more so than any of the other crow dreams. "Hodor won't go down into the crypts."(A Game of Thrones - Bran VII) ************************************

Again, what Ned had to say to Jon was so important that he came back from the death just to tell Bran. I believe that Bran will finally remember about this dream in the last volume of the books, “A dream of Spring”. One of my favorite moments in A CLASH OF KINGS, is the red comet that crosses the sky during the entire opening of the story. In Sansa’s first chapter she asks one of the knights of the kingsguard what does he thinks the comet purpose. Several Jonsas writers have made metas over this idea.

**************************** The morning of King Joffrey's name day dawned bright and windy, with the long tail of the great comet visible through the high scuttling clouds. Sansa was watching it from her tower window when Ser Arys Oakheart arrived to escort her down to the tourney grounds. "What do you think it means?" she asked him. "Glory to your betrothed," Ser Arys answered at once. "See how it flames across the sky today on His Grace's name day, as if the gods themselves had raised a banner in his honor. The smallfolk have named it King Joffrey's Comet." Doubtless that was what they told Joffrey; Sansa was not so sure. "I've heard servants calling it the Dragon's Tail." "King Joffrey sits where Aegon the Dragon once sat, in the castle built by his son," Ser Arys said. "He is the dragon's heir—and crimson is the color of House Lannister, another sign. This comet is sent to herald Joffrey's ascent to the throne, I have no doubt. It means that he will triumph over his enemies." (A Clash of Kings - Sansa I)

******************************************

We know that Jon is the Dragon Heir, since he is the son of Rhaegar, so what if the comet was meant to him???? There are some other hints too, that looked like foreshadowing in my mind…........

************************************************

He grinned. "I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?" "You may not. It is promised to...another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone. (The Winds of Winter - Alayne I)

People may think that I am crazy but if you re read the books all over again, paying attention to a small detail, you may start believing this theory too. As I was reading the books again, I started noticing that every single time Sansa’s receives a marriage proposal, the next chapter that follows is a JON SNOW chapter. Isn’t that interesting???? So let me show you. 

Right from the beginning we have King Robert arriving at Winterfell and visiting Lyanna Stark tomb in the crypts, there he offers a marriage alliance between House Baratheon and House Stark, with the marriage of Sansa and his son Joffrey Baratheon. This is the only chapter that Sansa will receive a marriage proposal not directly, in this chapter is Ned Stark that receives the proposal since Sansa is only 11 years old in the beginning of the story and her father is her guardian, after that, since Sansa will lose her parents and protectors, the proposals will happen directly to her.

A GAME OF THRONES CHAPTER 4 AND 5

Chapter 4, Eddard I 

****************************************

"Come south with me, and I'll teach you how to laugh again," the king promised. "You helped me win this damnable throne, now help me hold it. We were meant to rule together. If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done." This offer did surprise him. "Sansa is only eleven." Robert waved an impatient hand. "Old enough for betrothal. The marriage can wait a few years." The king smiled. "Now stand up and say yes, curse you." "Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Your Grace," Ned answered. He hesitated. "These honors are all so unexpected. May I have some time to consider? I need to tell my wife …""Yes, yes, of course, tell Catelyn, sleep on it if you must." The king reached down, clasped Ned by the hand, and pulled him roughly to his feet. "Just don't keep me waiting too long. I am not the most patient of men."…… For a moment Eddard Stark was filled with a terrible sense of foreboding. This was his place, here in the north. He looked at the stone figures all around them, breathed deep in the chill silence of the crypt. He could feel the eyes of the dead. They were all listening, he knew. And winter was coming. (A Game of Thrones, Eddard I)

*****************************************

What if the dead were watching Ned break his promise made to his sister and are sensing the Doom of House Stark?? This proposal is immediately followed by Jon Snow first chapter in the books. 

Followed by JON I

BTW, in this chapter we have Jon getting completely drunk in the feast. Word in the castle have traveled and everyone knows Sansa has been betrothed to Joffrey. I always assumed that Jon was so upset in the feast, not because he was seating far way from the rest of the family, but because he heard of the news of the betrothal between Sansa and Prince Joffrey. 

********************************** He had sated his curiosity about the visitors when they made their entrance. The procession had passed not a foot from the place he had been given on the bench, and Jon had gotten a good long look at them all…… His half sisters escorted the royal princes. Arya was paired with plump young Tommen, whose white-blond hair was longer than hers. Sansa, two years older, drew the crown prince, Joffrey Baratheon. He was twelve, younger than Jon or Robb, but taller than either, to Jon's vast dismay. Prince Joffrey had his sister's hair and his mother's deep green eyes. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar. Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall. ***********************************

Jon is jealous, again, in a first glance we may think that he is jealous because he is a bastard and can not be part of such important ceremony, but what if he is jealous because he can not be sited right next to Sansa??? A few moments later, Benjen Stark comes to talk to Jon and that’s when Jon ask Benjen to go to the wall and take the Black…

A STORM OF SWORDS CHAPTERS 6 AND 7

Now those two chapters are quite interesting, because both are surrounded by SONGS, in Sansa’s chapters, we have the singer singing THE BEAR AND THE MAIDEN FAIR while Sansa is being introduced to the leader of House Tyrell, Lady Olenna also know as the QUEEN OF THORNS, while in Jon’s chapters, we have a singer playing The Dornishman's Wife while Jon is introduced to the leader of the Freefolk, Mance Rayder THE KING BEYOND THE WALL (who just happens to be the singer)  Sansa is taken to meet the Tyrells by Ser Loras, someone she clearly desires, Jon is taken by Ygritte, someone who desires him.  In both chapters Jon and Sansa are asked to tell the truth and their lives are in danger, Sansa feels like if she tells the truth and the information falls into the Lannisters ears she could be punished and killed and Jon knows that if Mance doesn’t believe what he says, his life is at risk. Sansa tells the truth, Jon lies. 

In the end of this chapter Sansa receives a marriage proposal by the Tyrells, while on Jon chapter, Bael the Bard is mentioned in relation to Jon’s sisters. Once again, by the end of the chapter Sansa will receive a marriage proposal followed by a Jon Snow chapter.

The song THE BEAR AND THE MAIDEN FAIR, You may as well wonder where this song comes from, and it seems that Ser Duncan The Tall first heard this song at the Ashford Tourney (yes, that same Tourney that foreshadows the marriage between Sansa and a Targaryen prince)

Sansa I 

************************************

"The old woman turned back to Sansa. "Are you frightened, child? No need for that, we're only women here. Tell me the truth, no harm will come to you." "My father always told the truth." Sansa spoke quietly, but even so, it was hard to get the words out. "Lord Eddard, yes, he had that reputation, but they named him traitor and took his head off even so." The old woman's eyes bore into her, sharp and bright as the points of swords.

"Joffrey," Sansa said. "Joffrey did that. He promised me he would be merciful, and cut my father's head off. He said that was mercy, and he took me up on the walls and made me look at it. The head. He wanted me to weep, but . . ." She stopped abruptly, and covered her mouth. I've said too much, oh gods be good, they'll know, they'll hear, someone will tell on me.

That’s when Lady Olenna calls for a Song to cover up the conversation between them and finally makes their proposal.

Next chapter of the book is JON I

In this chapter Jon is brought before Mance Rayder, since Rattleshirt doesn’t trust him. In the King’s tent, Jon mistakes Styr for Mance Rayder. But it is the gray-haired man playing the lute who is the King-Beyond-the-Wall. Rattleshirt reveals his misgivings about Jon to the king, but Mance wishes to speak with Jon alone.

The tent was hot and smoky. Baskets of burning peat stood in all four corners, filling the air with a dim reddish light. More skins carpeted the ground. Jon felt utterly alone as he stood there in his blacks, awaiting the pleasure of the turncloak who called himself King-beyond-the-Wall. When his eyes had adjusted to the smoky red gloom, he saw six people, none of whom paid him any mind. A dark young man and a pretty blonde woman were sharing a horn of mead. A pregnant woman stood over a brazier cooking a brace of hens, while a grey-haired man in a tattered cloak of black and red sat crosslegged on a pillow, playing a lute and singing: The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun, and her kisses were warmer than spring. But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel, and its kiss was a terrible thing.

If the show is correct, Jon is Dornish, since he was born in the Tower of Joy and if he marries Sansa she would literally be the Dornishman’s wife. I also like how the song compares the woman to the sun, which brings back to Jon thinking of Sansa as radiant.  Jon blade, Longclaw is black since it's made of Valyrian steel and it was with a kiss that Jon killed Daenerys in the end. So this little song its foreshadowing pretty much the end of the story.

While Jon and Mance continue to talk, the King beyond the wall tells Jon that he remembers him from his visits of Winterfell, he tells Jon that he was also present at the Feast for King Robert that happened at the beginning of the novel, that’s when Jon mentions Bael the Bard back to Jon Snow story!!!

" The night your father feasted Robert, I sat in the back of his hall on a bench with the other freeriders, listening to Orland of Oldtown play the high harp and sing of dead kings beneath the sea. I betook of your lord father's meat and mead, had a look at Kingslayer and Imp . . . and made passing note of Lord Eddard's children and the wolf pups that ran at their heels." "Bael the Bard," said Jon, remembering the tale that Ygritte had told him in the Frostfangs, the night he'd almost killed her. "Would that I were. I will not deny that Bael's exploit inspired mine own . . . but I did not steal either of your sisters that I recall. Bael wrote his own songs, and lived them. I only sing the songs that better men have made. More mead?"

NOW LOOK AT THAT!!!!

Now this is the first time in the story, that the idea of one of the Stark sisters be stolen by a freefolk is introduced. Not only George brings back Bael to Jon’s chapter, he starts to associate the story with Jon’s sisters. Based on the end of the tv show, Jon will be the King beyond the Wall, and Sansa will be the last Stark woman in Winterfell.

"He gestured at the board between them, the broken bread and chicken bones. "Here you are the guest, and safe from harm at my hands . . . this night, at least. So tell me truly, Jon Snow. Are you a craven who turned your cloak from fear, or is there another reason that brings you to my tent?" Guest right or no, Jon Snow knew he walked on rotten ice here. One false step and he might plunge through, into water cold enough to stop his heart. Weigh every word before you speak it, he told himself. He took a long draught of mead to buy time for his answer. When he set the horn aside he said, "Tell me why you turned your cloak, and I'll tell you why I turned mine." …….. "And did you see where I was seated, Mance?" He leaned forward. "Did you see where they put the bastard?" Mance Rayder looked at Jon's face for a long moment. "I think we had best find you a new cloak," the king said, holding out his hand.

By the end, just like Sansa, Jon is asked to tell the truth. Mance Rayder ask Jon why he deserted the Nights Watch. Of course, we all know that opposite of Sansa, Jon doesn’t tell the truth, he lies to Mance about being resentful of the Starks. 

A STORM OF SWORDS CHAPTERS 68 AND 69 

SANSA VI

Now we have Sansa arriving at the Vale, scaping from Kings Landing. She arrives at the Vale with the help of Littlefinger. As soon as she is introduced to Lady Lysa she receives a marriage proposal to marry her cousin Lord Robert Arryn. The proposal doesn’t bring much joy to Sansa that laments that marrying for love may never happen to her.

******************************************

Lysa waved a hand negligently. "Not for many years. You are too young to be a mother. One day you shall want children, though. Just as you will want to marry." "I . . . I am married, my lady." "Yes, but soon a widow. Be glad the Imp preferred his whores. It would not be fitting for my son to take that dwarf's leavings, but as he never touched you . . . How would you like to marry your cousin, the Lord Robert?" The thought made Sansa weary. All she knew of Robert Arryn was that he was a little boy, and sickly. It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love. 

***************************************************

NEXT CHAPTER????? Once again, JON SNOW!!!

I knew it the moment I saw this line next to jon’s chapter that George was planning this marriage. That’s why I never believe that Jon and Sansa would have a political marriage, this union would be for love. 

 A STORM OF SWORDS CHAPTER 79 AND 80 

JON XII 

We start the chapter with Jon practicing sword fighting with Iron Emmet and he can not stop thinking about King Stannis Baratheon offer to legitimize him and make Jon not only a Stark but also the Lord of Winterfell. During his practice with Emmet he remembers another fighting practice many years ago at Winterfell….

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Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, "Well, I'm Florian the Fool." Or Robb would say, "I'm the Young Dragon," and Jon would reply, "I'm Ser Ryam Redwyne." That morning he called it first. "I'm Lord of Winterfell!" he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, "You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell." I thought I had forgotten that. Jon could taste blood in his mouth, from the blow he'd taken. (A Storm of Swords - Jon XII) *****************************************

Jon thinks of rebuilding Winterfell, just like Sansa in the next chapter will literally rebuilt the castle in the snow.

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Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father's heir….. It was short walk to the bathhouse, where he took a cold plunge to wash the sweat off and soaked in a hot stone tub. The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell's muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins.

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A interesting detail is that, the offer to be legitimized by Stannis comes with a demand. Jon needs to marry Val. Stannis wants the union of a Stark with a wildling princess, to unite the Freefolk with the North (but what if in the end we get a Wildling King marrying a Stark Queen?)

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"Good," King Stannis said, "for the surest way to seal a new alliance is with a marriage. I mean to wed my Lord of Winterfell to this wildling princess." Perhaps Jon had ridden with the free folk too long; he could not help but laugh. "Your Grace," he said, "captive or no, if you think you can just give Val to me, I fear you have a deal to learn about wildling women. Whoever weds her had best be prepared to climb in her tower window and carry her off at swordpoint . . ." (A Storm of Swords - Jon XI)

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? The sun crept down the sky to dip behind the Wall where it curved through the western hills. Jon watched as that towering expanse of ice took on the reds and pinks of sunset. Would I sooner be hanged for a turncloak by Lord Janos, or forswear my vows, marry Val, and become the Lord of Winterfell? It seemed an easy choice when he thought of it in those terms . . . though if Ygritte had still been alive, it might have been even easier. Val was a stranger to him. She was not hard on the eyes, certainly, and she had been sister to Mance Rayder's queen, but still . . . I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

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Jon is now thinking as a wildling and realizing that he needs to steal Val if he wants the marriage to be valid. Which is why I have no doubt that he is stealing Sansa in the end of the books, this storyline is foreshadow in his chapters numerous of times. But the marriage with Val doesn’t make Jon very happy, he doesn’t love her and hardly know her. Just like Sansa, Jon would like to marry someone he loves, and not have a marriage just for a political alliance. But the truth is that he does longs for a family, for Winterfell, he dreams to one day be a true Stark. 

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Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre's. He had a weirwood's eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they'd found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow. He had his answer then. **************************************

Finally Ghost comes back to Jon and he has his answer right there. The wolf brings back the memory when they all found the puppies. Jon belongs to the old Gods like his wolf and he cant turn his back to his old golds. I always assumed Bran sent Ghost to help Jon make his decision. 

As he walked toward the armory, Jon chanced to look up and saw Val standing in her tower window. I'm sorry, he thought. I'm not the man to steal you out of there.

So we this chapter Jon Snow was forced to make a decision and turn down not only Winterffell but also the marriage alliance with Val, the wildling princess. He decides he wont be the one stealing her, but he did show a desire for love, family and Winterfell. Next Chapter we are going to have Sansa being “kissed by the Snow” and those kisses are going to rekindle her childhood dreams…. 

SANSA VII

(gif from https://iheartgot.tumblr.com/post/708718314588946432/glorianas-sophie-turner-as-sansa-stark-in-game)

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She had last seen snow the day she'd left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. It hurt to remember how happy she had been that morning. Hullen had helped her mount, and she'd ridden out with the snowflakes swirling around her, off to see the great wide world. I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done….. Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover's kisses, and melted on her cheeks. …. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams. *********************************************

Sigh, I will never get over this little foreshadow. The poetry, the romantism, the idea of dreams. This little paragraph will always be one of my favorites written lines in this entire novel. The idea that a new lover can enchant Sansa and bring back all her childhood dreams after all the pain and sorrow that she went through. And again, the dream involves Winterfell….

When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me.

And then  she goes to work, once she starts playing with the snow she wonders what she would like to build…

************************************* The snow fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. She found twigs and fallen branches beneath the snow and broke off the ends to make the trees for the godswood. *****************************************

Again, in the past chapter we had Jon dreaming on rebuilding Winterfell, having a family, marrying for love. In the follow chapter we have Sansa literally rebulding Winterfell with the help of “Snow”. She longs for her old days, the days of her childhood. This for me was always one of the strongest foreshadows of their romance and future. 

Then, we also have some interesting scenes that the show drop on us, that also are pointing towards a promise… first we have that scene on season 3 Episode 2 (Dark Winds, Dark Words) where Catelyn Stark tells Talyssa about a broken promise that she made involving Jon Snow and how she believes breaking this promise brought all this pain and sorrow to House Stark.

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Catelyn Stark: Many years before that, one of the boys came down with the pox. Maester Luwin said if he made it through the night, he'd liνe. But it would be a νery long night. So l sat with him all through the darkness. Listened to his ragged little breaths. His coughing, his whimpering. Talissa: Which boy? Catelyn Stark: Jon Snow. When my husband brought that baby home from the war, l couldn't bear to look at him. l didn't want to see those brown stranger's eyes staring up at me. So l prayed to the Gods, take him away. Make him die He got the pox. And l knew l was the worst woman who eνer liνed. A murderer. l'd condemned this poor, nnocent child to a horrible death all because l was jealous of his mother. A woman he didn't eνen know. So l prayed to all seνen Gods, let the boy liνe. Let him liνe and l'll loνe him. l'll be a mother to him. l'll beg my husband to giνe him a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it, to make him one of us. Talissa: And he liνed?  Catelyn Stark: And he lived…..And l couldn't keep my promise. And everything that's happened since then, all this horror that's come to my family, it's all because l couldn't love a motherless child.

A BROKEN PROMISE LEADING TO THE FALL OF HOUSE STARK............

Later, in season 6 Episode 10 (The Winds of Winter) we have Jon and Sansa finally taking back the North and Winterfell together. Sansa tells Jon that she sees him as a Stark and Jon tells Sansa they need to start trusting each other, then he kisses her and remind Sansa of a promise made by Ned Stark.. (Interesting fact ton notice that after receiving this kiss from Jon, Sansa never again allows Littlefinger to kiss her). 

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Jon Snow: I'm having the lord's chamber prepared for you. Sansa Stark: Mother and Father's room? You should take it. Jon Snow: I'm not a Stark. Sansa Stark: You are to me. Jon Snow: You're the Lady of Winterfell. You deserve it. We're standing here because of you. The battle was lost until the Knights of the Vale rode in. They came because of you. You told me Lord Baelish sold you to the Boltons. Sansa Stark: He did. Jon Snow: And you trust him? Sansa Stark: Only a fool would trust Littlefinger. I should have told you about him, about the Knights of the Vale. I'm sorry. Jon Snow: We need to trust each other. We can't fight a war amongst ourselves. We have so many enemies now. Sansa Stark: Jon. A raven came from the Citadel. A white raven. Winter is here. Jon Snow: (Smiling) Well, Father always promised, didn't he? ************************************

I really wished George had not separated Feast and Dance because we know Sansa receives another marriage proposal In Feast, to marry Harrold Hardying, and I am pretty sure if the books had been released a 1, we would have another Jon Snow chapter following that Alayne chapter, but alas, it didn’t happen. So, that’s my take, I am always paying attention to the change of chapters in the books because I believe that this is how George foreshadows a lot of the events in this book series. 

So thats it, I can not wait for THE WINDS OF WINTER..........

[vicsy]

Had no idea what to pitch so I literally looked up one word prompts and chose the first few. Pick whichever inspires: Daniel x Max + Sunburn/Tease/Emerge/Afternoon/Impulse/Nurture/Rough/Polaroid/Good

maxiel + polaroid, sunburn

"Drink?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks. Can't stay long. Duty calls!" Daniel makes an exaggerated gesture. Max cracks a smile. He probably follows the pundit stuff Daniel does more than actual racing these days. "Just wanted to pop by since you're back to calling Monaco home. Nice place, mate."

If not for the sim rig installed in an empty guest room that could have been a nursery in a life he brushed aside, nobody would have ever guessed Max lived here. His new apartment was clean, spacious, incredibly faceless. A simple home for a creature of habit Max always was but not quite a home.

"I wanted to go watch the race this weekend," Max admits and pads through the cluttered living room to the adjacent kitchen, straight to the fridge. It's shiny, sophisticated and very empty, except for a monthly supply of Red Bull and yesterday's leftovers. He grabs a can for himself, wishing he had that beer Daniel used to love. "But I am of course happy to see you after, well. Who knows, yeah?"

Couple years, give or take. Max stopped counting after turning thirty-three.

Behind him, Daniel claps his hands together. Max throws a surprised look over his shoulder, blindly rummaging in the fridge. The shine of Daniel's smile hasn't diminished over the years, but the crow's feet around his eyes, Max discovers, are more prominent than he remembers. He wonders if Daniel notices the little changes about him, too; if he cares for them at all. Max does.

"Oh, congrats on your team winning, uh, another virtual racing thingy," he delivers the line with that old, addictive enthusiasm and, to Max, it's a gut punch. He schools his face, a lump forming in his throat. Daniel gives him a thumbs up, turns around and walks along the empty shelves attached to the TV wall. The lack of decor there makes it look kind of pathetic. Max had only managed to put two of his WEC trophies on display, a helmet he wore for the last race and a nice-looking box of assorted knick-knacks dear to his memory. "Any plans to decimate Le Mans this year, Mr Three Time champ?"

"Fernando is busy with Dakar, so probably I'll skip it. Oscar texted me about doing it next year together, so," Daniel's back is facing him still. Max closes the fridge and opens the Red Bull can, places it on the kitchen counter. Stares at it for a second or two. Then, out of a long-forgotten habit, Max goes for a poorly planned half-joke. "Didn't know you started watching iRacing in your old age. Quick, what's a livestream?"

It's a desperate attempt to even the gap between now and before. Daniel flips him a bird without looking, too occupied with whatever he found on Max's sad little shelves.

"Har, har, fucker. I mean, I gotta keep myself in the game, everything is changing, like, a lot. And, come on, it's you–" he stops talking. Max takes a sip from the can, watching Daniel finally face him. "Huh. Didn't know you still have these."

Max has gone lengths without having to experience a solid enough crash and the debilitating aftermath reverberating through his body. In the sun-flooded apartment, on the freshly turned page, it catches up to Max as abruptly as a rainstorm in the summer.

Forty-three year old Daniel is standing in his unfurnished living room, a splotch of color among the backdrop of generic white paint and a mount of unpacked boxes. Forty-three year old Daniel, with a sprinkle of salt in his hair and a tan line on the ring finger of his left hand, looks at Max like he's a ghost from the past, like it's him who just had to ruin everything when things got too real. He wasn't there when Max paid the price of his own happiness in retaliation.

Forty-three year old Daniel, who sent out an invitation to a wedding Max never attended, holds up two tiny polaroids taken almost a decade ago and all Max can think of is his signature on the divorce papers, the ink still wet.

He swiftly closes the distance to Daniel and snatches both pictures from him, cradles them to his chest. Daniel's hand is left suspended in the air between them. Max ignores the wobble in between his ribs. His eyes trace the line of the rose tattoo in the direct line of vision, memory bristling, anger thrumming underneath his skin.

"I kept them," Max spits. He doesn't mask the bitterness in his voice. He had it bottled up long enough the cork had gone rotten.

Daniel stares back, mouth slack. He looks good and Max hates that, hates his stupid colorful hoodie and his meager attempts to make amends. Above all, Max hates himself for ever conceding. Daniel has always had one foot out the door. Missed chances were Max's fuel and they've still propelled him back to square one.

"Yeah. I figured," Daniel says, too soft, too familiar. Placating. Max should ask him to leave.

Instead, he drops his gaze to the polaroids laid flat on his palm. They're in good condition but Max also hadn't looked at them in months, maybe years; it doesn't matter since those Daniel and Max, everything they stood for, ossified and turned into dust. It doesn't keep Max awake at night anymore.

Out of the two photos, only one comes from the Red Bull PR department. They never cared when it went missing. Max remembers the video they shot too starkly to be unbothered it ever happened — him and Daniel in matching team gear, insane rain in Monaco; Max winning that weekend and Daniel watching from the pit wall.

The other polaroid, a bit rough on the edges, had never seen the light of day. It captured just a part of Max's sunburnt face, a corner of his smile; Daniel's lips pressed to his cheek, his wet curls in disarray. Max gets a phantom ache in his chest when he remembers how the camera ended up in the sand, falling off a small table where they had propped it up against a half-empty cocktail glass.

Daniel cups Max's hand holding the photos from underneath, painfully hesitant. Max flits his eyes up to the hollow of Daniel's throat, to his full beard; to the pleading look stabbing daggers into the soft edges of Max that were once hard and unforgiving. 

Stashing those polaroids was Max’s way to forget he wished to go back. He was never the one to leave in the first place; that was Daniel's sworn prerogative. But he's in Max's living room now, a lifetime away from running.

"Max–"

"I think," he cuts in before Daniel makes it worse or gives him hope. His hand slips from Daniel's hold and Max retraces his steps back to the kitchen. Daniel tracks his every move. "I think I will put them here."

He sticks the polaroids to the enormous fridge door with a Welcome to Monaco magnet he fished out of a nearby drawer. The photos look whacky but, to Max, it's a long shot. He lingers in place, berating himself for giving this another chance. 

When he turns back around, Daniel is just an arm's length away.

"About that drink," Daniel says, low. Max watches his tongue dart out, wetting his lips. His heart jackhammers against his ribs.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Max's back hits the fridge.

Send me a ship/character(s) and a one word prompt and I will write a 5 sentence fic abou

[lafaiette]

Also, can we talk about magic? i suppose they wanted to make the game more luring to new players, but magic used to be rare, closed under the lock and feared. Mages were feared and cosidered dangerous. Tevinter was an execption, not a general rule. How come people forgot only ten years ealier there was a regular war between mages and chantry, the very reason Inquisition was formed? Why is there magic, anciet elven magic behin every corner? It feels like reboot.

"It feels like reboot"

Because it is a reboot 💀 Or at least, it's the first step towards one.

Explaining how magic is seen in Thedas, all the different opinions and fears and hopes people have about it, would have been impossible in a single game clearly aimed at luring new players in. They put all the major pieces of explanation in the codex (one part of it is filled and complete since from the start of the game, because it's basically a catalogue detailing everything about Thedas), and let you play as a mage to your heart's content, with no strings, no responsibilities attached.

They tried to preserve some logic in Minrathous - there's mention of how Tevinter's families try to breed the perfect mages to rise in power and influence, so that's good. But you also see a "Noble" mingling with a "Civilian" among the fishermen, and telling her she shouldn't waste time and money on making things better for the poor people. What the hell is she doing there, then? Why isn't she in Minrathous proper, drinking wine and looking down on the poor districts?

Just around every corner, a few feet away from the closest tavern, Venatori are constantly putting up blood magic barriers. The same in the Necropolis, with the Venatori making camp just one door behind the main hub where the Mourn Watch is stationed. Everyone performs rituals, the Circles are barely mentioned, a Forbidden One is hiding behind a door in the Necropolis' main hall and no one ever noticed it before, not even Emmrich.

Statues of Fen'Harel and the Evanuris, elven relics and elven contraptions are hidden everywhere - everywhere. To show how vast and influential the elven empire was? That was probably the devs' intent. Does it always make sense? No. Is it for gameplay purposes, to fill the map with puzzles and stuff to find like in the 2000s? Obviously.

In Inquisition, there was an entire area of the Hinterlands ravaged by the Templars and rebel mages. The refugees were scared of walking the roads to find food because there was wild magic flying around. Rabid templars crazy on lyrium roamed the woods, and the Chantry was powerless.

Elven ruins were scattered around with sense, with a purpose, barely visible among the vegetation, forgotten and avoided, or almost forced to fuse with Chantry's buildings (just look at the Emerald Graves). There was a logic behind the NPCs' and props' locations in the world.

Here, there is simply no logic or consequence to anything ever. The Black Divine is never addressed, as far as I remember. Dalish clans have lost any distinction - the only elven faction you meet is that of the Veil Jumpers, which is a weird cocktail of elves who all know how bad the Evanuris are and random humans and Qunari. Yes, there are humans being allowed to guard ancient elven artifacts in a Dragon Age game. No, they are not called shem. Yes, they all get along swimmingly.

The Crows are not slavers and dangerous figures anymore - they're actually the heroes of Treviso! They treat their fledgling Crows with care and respect, no torture involved. Where did you hear such a preposterous idea? Zevran? Who's Zevran?

Taash says the Qun isn't a prison. How is that possible? They sent assassins after Bull when he defected. They hunt Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth if they dare leave, and if a sten loses his sword, he cannot return home, because his brethren would kill him, as "to a Qunari warrior, the sword is the soul."

So yeah, this was definitely supposed to be a reboot for Dragon Age, just like Andromeda was supposed to be one for Mass Effect. That's why everything falls flat.

[jerreeeeeee]

It was only a blur. A flash of a face. A familiar silhouette. The way the man moved as he walked away down the street. Barry almost hesitated, almost didn't turn around. It was hard to see in the waning evening light, and he could nearly remember someone teasing him about his bad eyes. A voice he couldn't hear. It slipped from his mind as soon as he tried to grasp it.

The man went into a tavern. Barry followed him. It was a loud and crowded place, swanky, not what he would've chosen. There was a big stone hearth with a roaring fire that lit the place warmly, a nicely polished bar, tables full of people. There was a pool table in the back, in a way that made a kind of sense to him, even though he didn't know why it felt right, like weird, comforting, and deeply unsettling deja vu. The man he was following hadn't gone back there yet, but he was eyeing it from his seat. Barry went to the bar, put down the gold for a room and a drink, and before he could think better of it, sat right next to him.

The man hardly spared him a glance, focused on tearing apart the meal in front of him. He ate like he was starving. Barry tried not to stare, but kept looking at him out of the corners of his eyes. His face was fuzzy and out of focus and almost seemed like someone Barry should know. His ears flicked back and he shot Barry a look. Caught, he tried to pretend like he'd been looking at the pool table.

The man finally looked up. He followed his gaze to the table. Looked back at him, up and down. Especially down. At his shoes. Then back at the table, and then finally met his eyes. "Hey," he said. "What's your name?"

"Barry," Barry answered. "What's yours?"

"Taako," he answered. The beginnings of a grin tugged at his face. "How's a game of pool sound?"

-

Barry wiped his mouth and set down his fifth beer. "This is it," he said. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna get this one."

"You're more fun than I gave you credit for, Bluejeans!" Taako hollered. He'd had just as much to drink as Barry, who, despite appearances, could apparently party. "But still not good at pool. Let's see it." He leaned back in his chair and smiled easily, and rested his feet on the edge of the pool table. Barry eyed his own boots enviously. He'd lost the first round. And the second. That was two chances for the two boots—no one ever said Taako was uncharitable (well, actually, many people had said that). But Barry was doing better this time, with his glasses on the line. And Taako was having fun.

There was a gaping hole where his heart should be, as long as he could remember. It wasn't filled now, certainly. It still hurt if he thought about it. But there was a small, fluttering warmth there that grew hard to ignore the longer he laughed with Barry. It had been a long time since he'd really talked to anyone. The banter between him and Barry was comfortable and easy. His laugh was rusty, but he couldn't stop it from bubbling up out of the warmth in his chest.

Barry aimed his cue, and in a rather impressive and familiar maneuver, the ball sunk. "Ha!" Barry crowed, and finished the beer. "Guess I'm not so bad!" He turned around to face Taako, who had, just a moment before, had every appearance of enjoying himself.

Taako was no longer laughing. "Who taught you how to do that?"

"Huh?" Barry asked, looking back at the table like it'd tell him what he'd done.

Taako rose angrily. "Hey, who the fuck do you think you are? Have you been following me or something?" That was his move. He'd invented it as a kid... at least, he thought so. He'd been using it for a long time, anyway. But he hadn't tonight. Now that he thought about it, Barry had been playing just like he usually did.

"What?" Barry asked stupidly.

"I'm done, man," Taako replied. "I don't—I'm leaving." Whether Barry was an overzealous fan or a family member priming him for a revenge murder, Taako didn't want anything to do with it. He'd thought he was far enough away, somewhere he'd never been before, halfway across the continent, but this just kept following him—

"Hey, what about my shoes?" Barry asked, starting to get angry as well.

"I won them, asshole!"

"We're in the middle of a game!"

"Too bad!"

"W-At least let me—look, I-I already spent all my gold on a room, but you can have it if you give me my shoes back," Barry said wretchedly. "I can't—I need shoes."

"Then you shouldn't have bet them," Taako said, but his anger dampened. The guy seemed genuinely bewildered, and anyway, Taako couldn't afford a room here. Or anywhere else. It'd been a long time since he'd slept in a bed. It wasn't nearly as good as gold, but a night's sleep... Couldn't hurt to leave it to chance. "Tell you what," he said, "we'll finish the game. If you win, I'll take the room, and you can have your shoes back."

Barry grinned. "You're on."

-

Barry eyed the ball, drinks forgotten. He kind of desperately needed a win. "So," he said, trying for conversational, "what'd you even get mad about?"

Taako, also, had given up on flippancy. "You were playing just like me. I thought you'd been watching me or something."

"I have been," Barry answered, and noticed Taako's shoulders stiffen. He blushed. "Not- not like that. We've been playing all night. And, I mean, not to say I'm giving up, but you're a lot better than me. I kinda need any pointers I can get."

"Yeah," Taako said. "That is true. Maybe that was it."

The balls clattered and the one Barry had aimed for bounced away from its pocket. "Fuck."

Taako took his place and aimed his cue. The table scattered and two balls sunk. Barry was facing down a tomorrow without shoes. The coin'd told him he only needed enough gold for the night, with extra just in case—but that was extra before all the beers, and the chicken wings, and the room at the nice, expensive inn with the pool table he'd followed Taako into on a whim. He didn't even really know why he did it. There was just something about Taako... something that made his chest ache less, just like the coin said.

The game went on late into the night. The other people in the tavern slowly trickled away, upstairs or out the door to cheaper inns, until the room was left dim and quiet. Barry's turns always took too long, but Taako never told him to hurry up. The balls clinked together and sunk into their pockets one by one, until Taako took his last shot, and his last ball disappeared. Barry stared despondently.

Taako stretched his arms above his head and yawned loudly. "Well, guess that's it," he said with finality, still wearing Barry's boots. "See ya."

"Good game," Barry said hollowly, and walked to the stairs on socked feet. He made it about halfway up before he realized Taako wasn't moving that way either, or leaving.

Taako sighed. "Hang on, Bluejeans." Barry stopped. "Alright, here. Take your shoes. I don't need them. It was enough just to kick your ass."

Surprised at the offer of mercy, Barry came back down, and Taako handed his boots back, looking away, toward the empty bar.

"Thanks," Barry said.

"Sure," Taako said. "Whatever. What the hell am I gonna do with your boots? I have to be nimble, dude, and they're clunky as hell."

Barry went to go back up the stairs, but something stopped him. Taako still didn't make to leave. His clothes were awful ragged, threadbare and patched. He was still looking out at the room, and his eyes rested on the fireplace, where the fire had burned down to warm embers. It was cold at night this time of year, wasn't it?

"You can stay in my room if you don't have anywhere else to go," Barry blurted before he could think.

Taako looked back at him. "What?"

Barry flushed. He might still be a little drunk. "I-it just seemed like you weren't leaving... If you have a room somewhere else, sorry, but I was-"

"Inviting me to your room?" Taako asked incredulously. "What, are we gonna cuddle? Or are you coming on to me?"

"No," Barry said, embarrassed, even though he could tell Taako was fucking with him. Somehow, he could tell. "I just—look, you don't have to, I just thought it'd be nice to offer. Better than nothing. And you gave me my shoes back, so fair's fair."

Taako glanced back again toward the door, and the fireplace. "Alright," he said slowly, like he was surprised at himself. "You know what, why not."

-

Taako wasn't all that impressed. For a nice inn, it wasn't much. The bed was large, but other than that the room was mostly empty, and still chilly. Drafty window. Bare wooden floors. Well, he had a decent bedroll, at least, and it wouldn't be nearly as cold in there as outside. Even so, for a moment he stared longingly at the thick blankets on the bed. Then he started unfurling his bedroll in the clear space on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Barry asked.

"Going to sleep, dude. Gotta get a full eight hours." Elves were supposed to meditate, but he wasn't able to. He didn't know why. He just knew most of them did it with other elves nearby.

"On the floor?" Barry asked. Taako looked at him quizzically and he stammered, "I-I mean, it's a nice place—the bed's pretty big, y'know? I wouldn't mind."

"Thought you said you weren't coming on to me," Taako said, half joking and half uncomfortable. Not for any reason, really. He was far more comfortable than he ought to be.

"I'm not!"

Taako opened his mouth to say, I'm not spooning with a stranger, but something deep in his subconscious told him that wouldn't be quite accurate. Some part of him felt at ease. Something about this guy had compelled him to give the shoes back. He’d never given the shoes back before. He couldn't imagine why he did this time. Someone who seemed kind wasn't to be trusted. And yet...

"God," he muttered to himself, "what the hell am I doing?" Then, out loud, "Fine!" And before he could think any more about it he crawled into bed. Well, he crossed from where the bedroll on the floor was laid out, over to the left side of the bed, against the wall. Barry sat down on the right. He was between Taako and the door. No easy escape. Why the hell had he gone to a particular side at all? It wasn't like he was used to sharing. It wasn't like he'd ever had anyone to share with, enough to have a side. Whatever. He blamed it on the alcohol. Actually, he was just gonna blame all of this weird situation on the alcohol. All this warmth spilling over inside his chest. Well, what was done was done. Even if he couldn't understand why he'd done it.

Besides, Barry was a heavy sleeper. Something made him certain of that.

"Touch me and I'll curse your ass," Taako warned.

"My ass is already cursed," Barry mumbled, face buried in a pillow. "'M lactose intolerant."

That sounded right. That sounded exactly right. He didn't know how he knew these things.

Taako laid back cautiously, more out of habit than anything. He should be expecting something. He didn't have anything worth stealing, really, but there were definitely people who'd want to kill him. He should be falling asleep expecting to have his throat cut in the night.

But Barry was already snoring, and for some reason that sound made his eyes so heavy. Barry was a solid presence at his back, between him and the door, and for some reason, that made all his tensed muscles relax for the first time in a long, lonely time. Partly from the shared blanket and partly from this other, confusing feeling, Taako felt warm. The last thing he thought before he drifted off was that there was a space between them, a space that Barry had very carefully left at his request. And he wished there wasn't.

-

When Barry woke up to midmorning sunlight streaming through the inn room's window, for a moment the weight in his chest was light, and he felt, for the first time in years, that maybe he'd finally found a piece of his shattered self. Then he looked beside him, and the space there was empty and long cold. The ache came thundering back.

But the sheets had definitely been slept in.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

oooh soul mechanics. i love me some good soul mechanics!

if you subscribe to the idea that monster souls are effectively their whole being, that's gonna open up a whole can of worms with how chara and nightmare treated killer. an interesting fact in undertale the game is that, monsters turn to dust the moment they die and, with the exception of boss monsters, their souls break immediately. as opposed to human souls which can persist after death. i kinda take that to mean that 1) monster bodies are literally magic, and 2) their souls are them. their bodies are more like vessels of protection to protect themselves, which are their souls. human souls can be detached from their bodies, but monster souls can't, because monsters are so deeply linked with their souls, "the culmination of their being".

which brings a very interesting question: killer is not a monster or human, so what happens if his soul is detached from his body? can it be detached from his body? personally i headcanon his soul has properties of both monster and human, not all but some aspects. i think it would be interesting if his body just drops like a computer being disconnected from the internet. his body doesn't dust, because it's a mix of magic and determination, which allows persistence after death.

~ crowshipping anon

Hey crow I love it when you spill your brains all over my inbox /lh

I think that idea could be interesting. Especially if you go with that common fanfic idea (ig idk if it’s canon) of like monsters being able to project their intentions to other monsters, but what happens if an intent is projected via holding the actual soul. it is more like a command that killers body cant resist or fight against.

like. if someone takes it from his body, maybe he’d freeze up, and if there’s no other intentions or if the intention is for him to freeze up or even sleep his body just does it?? or maybe it triggers a literal flop response. he just becomes weak and limp and easily able to be moved wherever whenever without much fuss or fight. in nightmares case, with his overwhelming negativity, maybe it paralyzes killers body with intense pain.

i like to think his body responds strangely if it’s detached by someone who isn’t him. if he willingly gives it away, for whatever reasons, then perhaps that signals some form of trust to his soul; which could only be intensified via “held in a trusted loved one’s ribcage” idea, if it provides a noticeable warmth and the other person’s intentions—in this case, color’s—are more able to be easily felt.

id imagine if they ever do the ribcage trick, itd likely be during short periods or moments where both or one of them just need the reassurance and sense of safety and comfort. I wonder if killer could or would be willing to hold color’s soul in his ribcage too, if he would trust himself with something like that—given Stage 2’s previous interest in Color’s soul/s.

It’d signify a great deal of respect, trust and loyalty on Color’s end; perhaps forgiveness for the rocky start they had in their relationship.

soul mechanics are so cool we should all talk about them more

[mantequillamcwhoremick]

Hi! I ended up reading through Choas Plan in pretty much two days (your writing is actually phenomenal) but I was actually curious on your inspirations to write it? Did it come from any other particular works or maybe episodes from sp?

WHAT NO WAY😭😭😭😭😭😭WHAT THE HELL THAT'S SO NICE HOLY SHIT THANK YOU SO MUCH <33333

You can't just ask me shit like that dude I will respond with a huge fucking essay I LOVE questions like that!!!!

I honestly have several inspirations, many come from the show itself and some I've drawn from cyber crime documentaries and books I like (namely the Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo, you might recognize the scene with Mysterion and Harris in chapter 3 is very VERY similar to the one between Kaz and Jan Van Eck at the beginning of the book), but if you've read the notes in the fic you might have seen that the story idea was initially born when I was playing TFBW.

The Idea

The U-Stor-It scene where Butters/Chaos locks the C**n and Friends in the facility and talks to them through a screen was just so fascinating to me, it reminded me a lot of Jinx from Arcane and the Joker in The Dark Knight (especially because of the flashy decorations and graffiti). Mainly the story evolved from the question I posed to myself in that moment, which was: "What needs to happen for Butters to become someone like Jinx?" and that's how I started brainstorming the backstory.

The Backstory

Obviously that was inspired mainly by Linda's behavior in Butters' Very Own Episode, but it features elements from stuff all over the series and the games that prove just how fucked up Butters' parents are and treat him.

(Remember when in TFBW he mentioned that they bought an electronic lock system to keep him in his room because he left the bathroom once while grounded? yeah, that convinced me Butters' home life probably would only get worse with the years, especially with him entering his teens & puberty, and Post Covid honestly just confirmed that.)

The Villain/Hero Concept

I hadn't yet watched much more of South Park than up until seasons 15/16 so I didn't know about Post Covid's Vic Chaos yet, I mostly just wanted to do something with Mysterion and Chaos that had a darker and serious tone without either of them having any Marvel-esque powers or tech-organizations aiding them, something closer to the South Park lore at hand and realistic enough to feel like it could happen in our world.

Chaos' Methods

With Butters having a knack for Internet-related shit and him being able to hack into a baseball stadium screen to broadcast his evil plans in the Professor Chaos episode, and ofc his whole thing in TFBW and the episode of him becoming a pimp, I figured he has the stuff to be a hacker and entrepreneur.

I started getting spoilered a lot on the whole Vic Chaos and NFT scammer thing so even though I hadn't watched Post Covid I drew a lot of inspiration from that as well. I've been watching a lot of documentaries on Cryptocurrency scams and other cyber crime related stuff, so yeah all that shit also gets my brain generating a bunch of ideas as well.

Mysterion

As for Kenny/Mysterion's side of the story- I'm a huge fan of the "criminal who gets paid by a shitty pig/capitalist who would normally never hire them to take on a job" concept in Six of Crows, so that's how I got Harris involved, later further fueled by his Thin White Line arc in TFBW.

The way Kenny used his death powers in the C**n & Friends episodes I found very intriguing, and I absolutely LOVE playing around with them, so I included my own interpretation & spin of it as an active "superpower" he uses in order to be successful enough as a vigilante to be taken seriously. His canon powers separate him from your average humanbeing. It's a way to show the audience "hey look, Kenny really is just some guy, but also no one else could take on this role, ever. He may not have super strength or speed or money for equipment backing him, but he can get into places and out like no other person ever."

Coming up with a kryptonite-type weakness was also super fun, because I didn't want things to just be too easy. Mainly it's his need to remain anonymous, but the biggest reason for that need is because he needs to keep up his ability to financially support Karen. That, I obviously got from the show-, namely episodes like Mysterion Rises, The Poor Kid and City Part of Town, but his dynamic with Karen got increasingly more interesting and influenced in the fic after I played the TFBW DLC From Dusk Til Casa Bonita. The fact that he's so obsessed with keeping her safe the best way he knows how but completely overlooks to consider letting her have a say in it, is absolutely delicious. Like fuck yes, let's go complicate these character relationships (rubs hands evilly)

TL;DR

Inspirations come from all over, but of course the main ones do come from the show and games. Kenny and Butters have always been increasingly fascinating characters to me the more I watched the show, so the fact that Kenny canonically is the only kid Butters respects (source: s16, Ep "Going Native"), to an extent that in the future Butters funded his entire career, I thought had a shit ton of potential. Hence their friendship in the fic before "the incident", and the way Butters goes about Kenny now that he's taking over the town >:)))

Thank you SO SO MUCH for the ask!!!! I hope I didn't ramble too much for what you actually wanted to know, but I just absolutely love sharing my inspirations for this fic. Really gets my brain go brrrrr heheheh I'm so so grateful that this interests you <33333

[frostandflamesfanfic]

Everyone Has a Talent (Jesper Fahey x Reader)

Request: No (self indulgent)

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Nothing except a very flirtatious Zemeni sharpshooter

Summary: Here in Ketterdam, you've finally found a home. Even though it's chaotic, you love your life. You love your friends. When walking through the city to deliver a message for the one and only Kaz Brekker, what happens when you catch your best friend flirting with himself in the mirror?

As you walked through the streets of Ketterdam, you couldn't help but let a flicker of a smile spread across your face. The Barrel could be overwhelming at times, but it was home. You had arrived here at the lowest point of your life; you were orphaned, tired, and hungry. It didn't help that you were also down on your luck. The only way you were able to have a meal in your stomach was when you could afford to swipe scraps from neighboring carts and shops.

You found yourself at the front stoop of the Crow Club a few weeks after your arrival. At first, you thought you had gotten caught for lifting a few kruge from a lady's bag in an attempt to afford some real food. The next thing you knew, you were escorted to the back room awaiting a conference with the Bastard himself. Somehow you had managed to convince both Kaz Brekker and Per Haskell that you were worth the risk. They offered you a deal: five years of service and enough kruge to tide you over to wherever the next adventure took you -- no strings attached. How could you possibly refuse?

You had been working with the Dregs ever since. At some point, you even managed to prove yourself useful enough to be trusted on heists. The night Kaz totally didn't "relocate'' Jan Van Eck's prized De Kappel, you were there. You had run the surveillance during the job. It wasn't the most glamorous of responsibilities, but it still gave you a feeling of purpose. There were times that you would be called upon by Kaz to put together last-minute disguises to take on another job. Although that was incredibly infrequent.

Still, you couldn't complain. Kaz hadn't just given a roof over your head and a steady income; he had given you a family, too. You had started to grow closer to some of the Dregs after a few missions. Jesper Fahey (Kaz's overly flirty and gangly sharpshooter) and Inej Ghafa (Kaz's prized Wraith and...investment?) were two individuals you shared particularly close connections with. You would spend many nights keeping watch and waiting for new shipments to enter the Ketterdam docks. Conversation was bound to happen. At least, with one of them, anyway. Inej mostly kept to herself, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

Jesper was different, though. The two of you would use the time to catch up on what was happening in your lives, commiserating over how dead-ass broke you were, and for you to pester Jesper about his gambling addiction. It didn't matter what you talked about or what job you were on. You just enjoyed being together. One of your favorite conversations in particular was a game you would play. You would plan out these exotic days of adventure for when you could finally leave the busy city and explore. When Jesper had found out you wanted to travel, he encouraged you to save up for a trip.

"You never know when your last day may be," he insisted. "You deserve a trip, love. Treat yourself when this is all over. Just don't forget about us little people."

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't imagined what would happen if you brought Jesper along on your travels. What would your lives look like? Would your dynamic still be the same or would it be different? Would you start a life together? It wasn't that the thought scared you. It was quite the opposite, really. The idea of having a real- an actual life- with Jesper brought a smile to your face every time you thought about it. You just didn't know how he felt about it.

=  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =  =

As you continued your trek, you turned into an alcove where you found your best friend getting lost staring into a side mirror. Jesper was pretending to be some sort of suave gunslinger. Which, while he technically was, it never hurt to see him practice. He always looked so calm and so cool. The thwip of the weapons being removed from the holsters and placed back moments later was almost relaxing. You couldn't allow yourself to get distracted, though. You had a message and you were quite attached to the fingers Kaz had threatened to remove should you not find Jesper.

"Are you just going to stand there all day?" you began, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Jesper grinned back at you through his shiny reflection. "What can I say?" he remarked. "When something looks this good, you need to stop and appreciate the true art."

A laugh escaped your lips. "I can't tell if you're flirting with yourself or the mirror."

"Couldn't it be both, love?" The Zemeni sharpshooter turned around and shot you a wink. "What's the problem with a little self-love?"

"It's a problem when it's distracting you from the task at hand."

"And just what might that be, love?" Jesper moved to place his revolvers back in his holster, resting his hands lazily on top of the handles. He loved those weapons more than life itself. You'd seen him play with them when he was bored, anxious, or plain fidgety. Which, needless to say, was always. It mesmerized you to watch him spin the weapons as if they were mere children's toys. Back and forward, round his index fingers...Saints, the things those hands have done…

You cleared your throat and shook your head to clear your thoughts. Can't afford to get distracted, you reminded yourself. The blush flashing across your cheeks almost caused you to hide. "Uh, Kaz needs you," you somehow managed to get out.

"He always needs me." It was meant to be a casual careless statement, but you could sense the subtle presence of pride laced in his voice. "I think he could spare a few minutes."

You stood there in silence for a minute, unsure of what to do next. The right thing to do would be to go find Kaz. But you and Jesper rarely had time together outside of heists…

"Come here."

You blinked. "What?"

Jesper gave you a small smile and pointed to a spot on the ground beside him. "I said come here."

You shoved your hands deep in your pockets and shrugged. "I'm fine right here, thanks," you responded. "What's the problem?"

"I want to show you something." He was determined when he wanted something. You had to give him that. You were surprised when he sighed and grabbed your arms, gently pulling you closer to the mirror. Jesper pointed to the mirror. "Look."

"Okay...that's me?" You were now confused. "What's wrong?"

Jesper gestured with his hands. "You look tense," he remarked. “Make a face at it. Just do something to relax."

"How can I relax?! I tried, but there's just too much to do!" you exclaimed in a bitter huff. "You make it look easy. What's the secret?"

Your friend made a little show by leaning down as if he was about to whisper in your ear. You had to repress a shiver as his breath fanned against your cheek. He was so close right now, his chest pressed against your back. It was an intimate feeling, but you had to stop yourself before you made a mistake that ruined everything. "Afraid it's a trade secret, love," he mused with a dramatically hushed tone and wink. "It's just yet another Jesper talent."

"I just wish I even had a single talent."

This confession seemed to surprise Jesper, whose eyes widened slightly. "Oh, I wouldn't say that," he said. "You have a great number of talents."

You gave a small shrug. "I make clothes and I hide in the shadows," you relented. "Nothing as groundbreaking as shooting a guy's hat off from twenty feet."

"Actually, it was twenty five, but..." Jesper caught himself when he recognized your giving him a steely glare. He cleared his throat. "That's besides the point. I'm sure we can find something for you." Suddenly, his dark complexion shone with an unexpected glow. "I've got it!"

You watched in the mirror as he reached into his holster and pulled out one of his prized mother-of-pearl encrusted revolvers. The cold metal was a shock against your skin as Jesper pressed the weapon securely in your palm. "Try this. I will have you know that if you break it, I may need to reconsider this partnership." Even though his tone was serious, you knew Jesper was joking...possibly. "Now, here. Spin it like this...now like that..."

The two of you spent the next twenty minutes practicing revolver spins in the alley mirror. There were a few times where you would end up losing your grip on the gun, but Jesper was standing right by you to make sure it wouldn't be too detrimental to the design. You were so engrossed in the lesson that you almost didn't notice how much your smile had grown from before. Your cheeks had a tint of pink against them due to Jesper's close proximity, but you knew it would fade in a second. You just wanted to enjoy this moment.

When you finally managed to get a full series of rotations, you jumped for joy. Without thinking, you quickly pulled Jesper into a kiss. It was a short-lived moment, but the contact set off a bushel of butterfly flutters in your stomach. "I'm so sorry!" you were quick to apologize. Kissing your best friend was one thing, but your coworker? That was a whole other set of wrong. "It won't happen again."

"...Why not?"

You froze, eyes locking onto Jesper's grey hues. "What?"

"What was so bad about kissing me?" he asked. "I didn't think it was half bad."

He liked it? your mind asked you. That's certainly surprising. "Well," you tried to explain. "We do work together."

"I do think I'd be able to exhibit control, love. You on the other hand..." Jesper held up his hands in mock apology, which only had a well placed smack sent in his direction. “Ow! Don’t hit me!”

"I can kiss you! I don't have a problem with it." You really needed to think before you spoke.

Before you could run away, you felt Jesper's hand graze your left cheek. You could feel the stingingly cold metal of his colorful rings. His fingers were calloused, yet soft after all his work in the Club and the field. "Then how about we try that again?"

Surprised, you nodded silently and his lips were over yours once more. The two of you stayed there for as long as possible without losing oxygen. The only problem with that was you never heard Kaz approach with his cane. "Jesper," he said. "We need to go. Now." Kaz paused for a moment. "And tell your kissing pal that when the two of you are done, they're needed to collect some coin from the vault."

With a sigh against your lips, Jesper pulled away. "Right away, boss," he replied.

"This better not affect your performances," Kaz warned. He then nodded and limped away with his cane clutched tightly in his hand. It was just you and Jesper again. Alone. In the alleyway.

"Well, love," Jesper apologized. "I hate to kiss and run, but I"m afraid I'm needed." He pecked your cheek quickly before shrugging on his coat. It made your cheeks flush again. "We'll continue this when I get back, yeah?"

You could only wordlessly nod in agreement, causing him to give a curt nod as well. "Good." He began to walk away. "Oh, and by the way," he said in a louder tone. "I do think we found your talent."

===============

Author's Note: Okay, so hi. I completely disappeared from the writing circuit forever ago and still haven't completely come back. I wrote this fic almost two years ago when I first got into the Grishaverse fandom. It is posted on my AO3 if you want to see it in its former glory, but I felt it was high time to upload it here. When I found this in my docs, I was kind of surprised at how I captured his character, but I didn't hate it??

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little snippet of my writing again. If you did, please drop a like and reblog this fic so I know whether or not to bring back my favorite cheeky guy again. I hope to be back to writing some fic soon, as I'm taking a creative writing class this semester in uni, so the ideas should be flowing again!! Make sure to follow so you don't miss a thing -- we're so close to 500 followers, which is insane to me. Can't tell you how grateful I am for each and every single one of my fellow fandom people <3

[strixcattus]

Finished my Slay the Princess voice designs!!

(Badly screenshot) closeups and explanations under the cut.

The Hero is, of course, you. Or at least he looks like you. He's the one with you before anything happens, so there are no design changes from the base of an anthropomorphic crow. He's the basic design from which all the others stem.

The Cold's feet and face are hidden by a cloak of feathers which makes him look a little more similar to his respective Princess, the Spectre, and makes his expression all the more unsettling—especially when he puts on that smile I imagine him having whenever he has an "interesting" idea. Even though he's been injured before, he has no scars. Scars are for reminders of things that hurt you, and he's never been hurt.

The Paranoid is small and skittish. Like the Nightmare, his face is usually too shadowed to see; however in his case it's more about being too afraid to take off his cloak. There's probably not much to see under there, anyway. It's not as though organ failure leaves a mark.

The Smitten, on the other hand, has a flashy blue cape and feather collar. He's a show-off. What more is there to say? I think he's got a scar over his heart to represent where the Princess stabbed him, dramatic as he is.

The Skeptic is the voice most inclined to think things through carefully before acting, so he gets the distinguished-looking glasses, as well as wristbands to mirror the Prisoner's chains. He also retains the scar from his one wound, though it's moved to his eye instead of his throat. His voice sounded like he ought to have a scar.

The Contrarian, as one of the two gremlin voices, gets magpie coloration instead of crow coloration. His theatre masks mirror the Stranger's multiple faces and nod to how he views everything he does as more of a game or a play with no consequences.

The Hunted, like the Paranoid, is small and fearful. As he has more animalistic instincts and is paired with the Beast, he's less humanoid than most of the others. His cloak has been pieced back together several times, and he still has all the scars from being clawed apart by the Princess—but at least his steel claw is in his hands.

The Broken has been reduced to an almost completely ordinary bird, and the collar around his neck is ready for when he chooses to become the Princess's pet. Though he actually has wings, unlike the other Voices, he can't fly—they've been broken and never healed properly.

The Opportunist is the other gremlin voice, and has the magpie markings to match the Contrarian. To fit his smooth-talking personality, he's got a pair of sunglasses and an outfit that befits a used-car salesman, with sleeves perfect for hiding things up. Despite having been mortally wounded by the Princess, he doesn't have a visible mark on him. Because he's untouchable! And everything is going to be just fine.

The Cheated also gets sleeves to hide things in. Heaven knows he deserves it. He's got more scars than he ought to, given how many times the Razor actually stabbed him (once) but we ought to let him have it. If nothing else, he definitely feels like he's been hurt that many times. At least he's got the blade, as the only voice who ever managed to override the choice not to take it.

The Stubborn is the physically strongest of all the Voices—he has to be, in order to fight the Adversary, and his feather tufts mirror her horns. The leather armor he wears also helps him stay in the fight, though of course it wouldn't help if he were to get his face smashed in. Despite how many times he's been injured, he doesn't have any visible scars—why bother memorializing old wounds when you'll have the chance to go back into the fight?

[otomeiromylife]

Yandere headcanons - Obey Me brothers

TW: general yandere/abusive/toxic behaviour, possessiveness, mild violence, control.

Lucifer

Uses school rules as an excuse to overly control you.

He’ll make up rules on the spot for just you to follow - it’s not like you can question him?

“This hallway is off limits, it’s best you go home lest you get into any more trouble”

“Your tie is tied incorrectly! Hmph, come here, just let me do it for you.”

“That food is prohibited on academy grounds, do I also need to escort you to the cafeteria?”

And if you ever break the rules… Lucifer ensures he is the only one allowed to punish you.

Be prepared for plenty of hours-long lectures telling you exactly how you need to behave, or else.

Will write bullet-point instructions on every step you need to take throughout the day - if you violate the schedule, be prepared to bow before him in his office, whilst he corrects you.

Always threatens to string you up, like his does Mammon, just to see the fear and uncertainty in your eyes. Though he knows he never will, not from the ceiling, at least.

Mammon

He isn’t the Avatar of Greed for no reason, this man is a collector.

He started off with things you wouldn’t notice, like discarded packaging, or class-notes.

He tried to only steal little things of yours, but sometimes the thrill is better when it’s something noticeable.

He would then steal clothing, like gloves, socks, and underwear.

“Mammon, have you seen my necklace?”

Of course he has, it’s stashed away in the back of his wardrobe, along with all your other shiniest objects.

But he’s not dumb enough to admit that to you, despite popular belief.

He hopes in the back of his mind, that you catch him. He wants you to see how desperate he is for parts of you.

Uses his ability to communicate with crows to watch over you. Crows are like pigeons in the Devildom, they line all the telephone wires, and gather in the busy streets.

Like inconspicuous spies, everywhere you go. This is why he doesn’t like to talk much about his ability, he doesn’t want you to be more cautious.

‘It’s just for their safety, right?’

Leviathan

Uses the ‘innocent wet puppy’ facade to guilt you into spending more time with him.

Over-exaggerates his shyness when it comes to you, the shy boy type always gets the girl in anime, right?

What do you mean you’d rather go shopping with Asmo than play games in his room for the eighth consecutive day?

“I get it… I’m just some disgusting, ugly, otaku…”

Before you know it, you’ve been completely isolated from everyone else. But it’s okay, because all you need is your best friend, right? It’s just you and him in this world.

“We’re the only ones that understand each other.”

Is actually quite confident with you behind his mask of bashfulness, but only because he’s planned out every interaction like a script, with a hundred different contingencies.

But when you’re in his room, just you and him, he has to lock the door, for his own reassurance.

He wouldn’t want any of his normie brothers to come and take you away! Your attention is for him only. And you’re not allowed to leave.

His eyes often linger on inappropriate places on your body - he won’t even notice until it’s pointed out to him. He’ll laugh it off, but he doesn’t care to correct his behaviour.

Thinks of himself as fulfilling the ‘loveable pervert’ anime trope, he doesn’t really understand that it’s not okay, because he sees everyone as anime tropes.

Why aren’t you laughing? Is it because you hate him?

Satan

Curses and spells are his favourite way to make you his own.

Sometimes you find yourself with a craving to see him, there are some hours where you cannot concentrate on anything else, only thoughts of him. That is, until you inevitably give in, seek out his bedroom.

He wants you to trust him, feel comfortable with him. Therefore, spells that make you more obedient and affectionate are certainly not off the table if you’re too distant.

And he can’t help but extend his spellwork to anyone else who may have their eye on you.

A classmate of yours getting too flirty? What a surprise, when they get struck by lightning on their way home.

Some other lesser demon offers to tutor you? It’s a shame they didn’t follow through with their offer, and just disappeared… (they were forever turned into a frog)

Human minds are so absorbent, why shouldn’t Satan ensure that all you know comes from himself?

So what if he slips in a few white lies, if it’s for your own good?

“You’re going to that café with some friends? I heard the owner has a prolific hatred of humans… why don’t you watch this TV drama with me, instead?”

Due to his connections all over the Devildom, he really does give the most romantic gifts. Anything you want, just for you, though maybe you should ask Solomon to cleanse it first.

And if you still resist after that, maybe he will show you why exactly he is called the Avatar of Wrath.

Asmodeus

He’s a designer, there’s no way he’s going to let you go out in those clothes. Everything you wear must be perfectly devised by him!

He will sculpt your image from head to toe, decking you out in all of his own designs, don’t even think about your own style.

“I’m a professional, darling, trust me.”

Your whole look, tailored by him, for him.

What’s more fun than teasing? A few pics on Devilgram of you together with a flirty caption is just called making the masses happy, keep them guessing!

As long as you’re around, all the tabloids are buzzing. The celebrity news sites go wild for paparazzi pics of you and him together - don’t mind how they knew your location - you’re in all the headlines as Asmo’s new sweetheart.

Pressure won’t stop building until you’re finally announcing your devotion to him. And when you do, it must be public of course, it’s always important to please the crowd.

Asmodeus has always been exceptional, so is it not appropriate to give him an exceptional amount of love?

Constant assurance he is superior to any other demon is a must. He must always be your #1 priority.

Will goad you into showing your affection for him in front of the other brothers. Are you not particularly comfortable with PDA? Don’t worry, he’ll show you just how fun it can be through lots of practise.

“I know you love me the most, right? Say it.”

Beelzebub

In the Devildom, it’s the strong that prevail. And thankfully for him, Beel has a lot of strength.

There’s not much room for other demons to get close to you, when there’s the demon he-man towering above you at all times.

He’s always keeping an eye out for your surroundings, he wants nothing more than to keep you safe, although he can go a little overboard sometimes…

In his determination to protect you, he practically assumes the role of your bodyguard. Not that you complain, the Devildom is dangerous after all, he’s just helping you, right?

He gives intimidating glares to any demons that so much as look at you. Silent threats and claims that you are his. Everyone knows that you are off-limits.

But when the occasional demon comes around, getting a little too aggressive, or touchy-feely with you, Beelzebub is not above using force.

Out of your sight, of course, some demons need to be taught a lesson through blood.

Only after they’re knocked out, bleeding on the floor will he jump in the shower, to wash all the ‘grime’ off, eager to return to you, your sweet guardian angel.

Belphegor

He’ll often steal you away from everyone else, some dark and cozy place where you needn’t worry, as long as you’re wrapped in his arms.

His loving arms, that through touch, have the power to alter your dreams into whatever he wants. Perhaps he’ll give you dreams of romantic picnics under the stars, perhaps he’ll give you dreams of the other demons wrapping their hands around your neck, squeezing your life away, only for you to be saved by Belphegor.

He can’t have you getting too trusting of the others demons, right? He needs to make up for all the time he missed whilst he was in the attic, with interest.

Sometimes he likes to dig his nails across your skin, just to feel your reaction. The little mewls you make and the way you push his hands away make his heart flutter, and his head grow even more dizzy and irrational.

Through great restraint his clawing will turn to light caresses and gentle pinches if you tell him to stop. Though that doesn’t mean he won’t start again next time.

After the first few bits of casual contact he won’t stop clinging to you. You’ll always have this drowsy demon clinging to your arm or resting on your shoulder.

He likes to nuzzle into you, stain his scent into you, warning any other demons close enough to smell you of Belphie’s presence.

He understands if after… the incident… you’re much more wary of him, but no worries, he knows just how to make this discomfort go away.

Since his twin is such a trusty protector, he use Beel to worm his way into your blind spot, sneaking behind until he can pounce around your shoulders and never let go.

Don’t think you can spend time with his twin without getting the full package. You trusted Beel, you felt safe around him, you shared your thoughts and secrets with him, but Belphegor knows all that you told him. He hopes the calming effect of Beel will soothe the anxious pressure in your heart whenever Belphie steps in the room behind him. There’s nothing they don’t share.

A/N: crossposted on ao3: girlfawkes

[morimess]

Everyone makes fun of Linebeck for his crate. And I will agree, it's a ridiculous concept at first- a grown man hiding away in a crate to get away from his crazy ex-lover, while a random kid fights her.

But what if we're thinking about the crate all wrong. What if the original purpose of the crate is not for Jolene, but for miniblins?

Ok, so- in game there are only 8 ships piloted by hylians. We have imposter wind-waker (1), brother of the imposter wind-waker (2), Beedle (3), Jolene (4), the old wayfarer (5), the merchants in the SE sea (6), the Man of Smiles (7), and the SS Linebeck (8). Everything else is pirate ships piloted by hordes of miniblins.

Most people will first see Linebeck use the crate as a hiding spot when you fight Jolene. And this is probably where the seed gets planted that the crate is solely for Jolene's visits comes from. But, he uses that exact same crate when the miniblins board your ship.

Now, you can beat the entire game (not at 100%, but still beat it) without ever once having the miniblins board your vessel, so I don't blame people for forgetting that this is a thing they can do- especially when you have to try to even get them to board your ship.

But I think even more telling evidence is what happens when you encounter a vessel that's been overrun by the monsters.

The most common vessel to see this happen is in the 2nd vessel mentioned. On this vessel, you board the ship to see miniblins abound, and the ship's captain face-down on the floor. After you defeat all the miniblins, you talk to the guy and find out he's-thankfully- still alive, and he may just give you a treasure or two for your troubles.

You leave, and forget about it- but if you ever sail back to that ship, you'll find it overrun again. And this dude is, once again, face down on the floor.

The point being- I think playing dead is a legitimate strategy that most of the people still sailing use to fool the miniblins into leaving them alone. Linebeck, however, has found a way to avoid the threat of pitchforks being jabbed at him if he accidentally moves, and has just started hiding in a crate.

This is in character for him as, even when you first start sailing with him, there is no offensive capabilities on the vessel, whatsoever. He just has a jump mechanic too help him run away more effectively. If Linebeck truly is more of a runner than a fighter, I 100% believe he would use the "play dead" method over fighting the things any day.

Now, most people think Linebeck is a coward who lets Link do all his fighting- and while the fighting part is true, I would like to remind everyone of the fact that only 8 vessels are still in the water, and his ship is one of them. He would not be one of the only ones left if he was just a coward and dumb. And I don't believe he's alone in the "play dead" method either.

I actually believe the only person actively fighting the miniblins is Jolene- everyone else either plays dead, has attack crows that stop any miniblins wearing anything shiny from boarding, or keeps them locked in a cellar for gods know what reason.

But, when it comes to Jolene boarding the ship- well, he already has a crate good for hiding in during most other pirate attacks, why wouldn't it work on his ex? You know, the girl who likes to dress up like a pirate.

And, I mean, it technically does work. It stops her from attacking him right away, and allows the player to distract her until she gets bored enough to leave. We only find out she caught on because she outright tells us she knows where he's hiding during the last encounter.

But this is just another thought on a growing pile of "Linebeck wasn't really cowardly, he was just a normal guy- if not smarter than average- who we were constantly told was cowardly by the literal Spirit of Courage, who was traveling along with the former holder of the Triforce of Courage. There could not have been a more skewed judge of his character."

[julibf]

JON WAS PROMISED TO SANSA PART 1

PS - I want to apologize for my super long post, I received a couple of messages of readers explaining that the long form of the post makes harder for some people to read all the information. I will try to do in 2 parts. This first using some of the hints from books and tv show and the second part approaching the book chapters.

So, one of my favorite theories that I have seen floating sometimes is that Jon Snow is actually The prince that was promised to Sansa. The idea is that Lyanna not only asked Ned Stark to protect Jon, but also, asked him to marry his first born daughter to her son, in order to fulfil an important prophecy and that the breaking of this promised is what led for all this pain and sorrow to fall onto House Stark. This would parallel the pact made by Doran Martell promising his older daughter to Viserys Targaryen, both men made promises to marry their daughters to Targaryen princes, yet both failed to fulfill their promises.

What if Jon and Sansa had been betrothed all their lives since their birth? What if this union is very important for the future of Westeros and the Gods are making everything possible for them to be together?  This would be a big twist in the end of the story, because the reader usually associates Ned Stark with someone who takes oaths very seriously, yet, having the hero of the story breaking an oath and disgracing himself its kind the story that George likes to write. In A GAME OF THRONES there is a lot of hints that Ned actually broke his promise to Lyanna.

**************************************

He slept and woke and slept again. He did not know which was more painful, the waking or the sleeping. When he slept, he dreamed: dark disturbing dreams of blood and broken promises. When he woke, there was nothing to do but think, and his waking thoughts were worse than nightmares. (A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV)

Ned keeps on dreaming about broken promises…….

The thought of Jon filled Ned with a sense of shame, and a sorrow too deep for words. If only he could see the boy again, sit and talk with him … pain shot through his broken leg, beneath the filthy grey plaster of his cast. He winced, his fingers opening and closing helplessly. "Is this your own scheme," he gasped out at Varys, "or are you in league with Littlefinger?" (A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV)

In his lasts moments Ned is thinking of Jon and the memories of him bring immense shame and sorrow. Remember, not only he never told Jon about his mother, he also allowed the boy to join the Nights Watch without ever explain to him how truly terrible that place was. I am certain now that Ned Stark broke a very serious promise to his sister…..

The mention of dreams reminded him. "I dreamed about the crow again last night. The one with three eyes. He flew into my bedchamber and told me to come with him, so I did. We went down to the crypts. Father was there, and we talked. He was sad." "And why was that?" Luwin peered through his tube. "It was something to do about Jon, I think." The dream had been deeply disturbing, more so than any of the other crow dreams. "Hodor won't go down into the crypts."(A Game of Thrones - Bran VII)

Again, what Ned had to say to Jon was so important that he came back from the death just to tell Bran. I believe that Bran will finally remember about this dream in the last volume of the books, “A dream of Spring”.

One of my favorite moments in A CLASH OF KINGS, is the red comet that crosses the sky during the entire opening of the story. In Sansa’s first chapter she asks one of the knights of the kingsguard what does he thinks the comet purpose. Several Jonsas writers have made metas over this idea

(https://www.tumblr.com/nattyslove22/745268948796407808/what-do-you-think-it-means-she-asked-him-glory) (https://chispas-and-broken-bindings.tumblr.com/post/642883177830137856/glory-to-your-betrothed-ser-arys-answered-at)

The morning of King Joffrey's name day dawned bright and windy, with the long tail of the great comet visible through the high scuttling clouds. Sansa was watching it from her tower window when Ser Arys Oakheart arrived to escort her down to the tourney grounds. "What do you think it means?" she asked him. "Glory to your betrothed," Ser Arys answered at once. "See how it flames across the sky today on His Grace's name day, as if the gods themselves had raised a banner in his honor. The smallfolk have named it King Joffrey's Comet." Doubtless that was what they told Joffrey; Sansa was not so sure. "I've heard servants calling it the Dragon's Tail." "King Joffrey sits where Aegon the Dragon once sat, in the castle built by his son," Ser Arys said. "He is the dragon's heir—and crimson is the color of House Lannister, another sign. This comet is sent to herald Joffrey's ascent to the throne, I have no doubt. It means that he will triumph over his enemies." (A Clash of Kings - Sansa I)

We know that Jon is the Dragon Heir, since he is the son of Rhaegar, so what if the comet was meant to him????

There are some other hints too, that looked like foreshadowing in my mind…

He grinned. "I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?" "You may not. It is promised to...another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone. (The Winds of Winter - Alayne I)

I have been rewatching the tv show and a couple of scenes got my attention. First we have the famous added scene of Catelyn Stark telling Talisa that she broke a promise made to the Gods. This happens on Season 3 Episode 2 (Dark Wings, Dark Words). Catelyn Stark tells about a broken promise that she made involving Jon Snow and how she believes breaking this promise brought all this pain and sorrow to House Stark.

Catelyn Stark: Many years before that, one of the boys came down with the pox. Maester Luwin said if he made it through the night, he'd liνe. But it would be a νery long night. So l sat with him all through the darkness. Listened to his ragged little breaths. His coughing, his whimpering. Talissa: Which boy? Catelyn Stark: Jon Snow. When my husband brought that baby home from the war, l couldn't bear to look at him. l didn't want to see those brown stranger's eyes staring up at me. So l prayed to the Gods, take him away. Make him die He got the pox. And l knew l was the worst woman who eνer liνed. A murderer. l'd condemned this poor, nnocent child to a horrible death all because l was jealous of his mother. A woman he didn't eνen know. So l prayed to all seνen Gods, let the boy liνe. Let him liνe and l'll loνe him. l'll be a mother to him. l'll beg my husband to giνe him a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it, to make him one of us. Talissa: And he liνed?  Catelyn Stark: And he lived…..And l couldn't keep my promise. And everything that's happened since then, all this horror that's come to my family, it's all because l couldn't love a motherless child.

Later, in season 6 Episode 10 (The Winds of Winter) we have Jon and Sansa finally taking back the North and Winterfell together. Sansa tells Jon that she sees him as a Stark and Jon tells Sansa they need to start trusting each other, then he kisses her and remind Sansa of a promise made by Ned Stark.. (Interesting fact ton notice that after receiving this kiss from Jon, Sansa never again allows Littlefinger to kiss her again). 

Jon Snow: I'm having the lord's chamber prepared for you. Sansa Stark: Mother and Father's room? You should take it. Jon Snow: I'm not a Stark. Sansa Stark: You are to me. Jon Snow: You're the Lady of Winterfell. You deserve it. We're standing here because of you. The battle was lost until the Knights of the Vale rode in. They came because of you. You told me Lord Baelish sold you to the Boltons. Sansa Stark: He did. Jon Snow: And you trust him? Sansa Stark: Only a fool would trust Littlefinger. I should have told you about him, about the Knights of the Vale. I'm sorry. Jon Snow: We need to trust each other. We can't fight a war amongst ourselves. We have so many enemies now. Sansa Stark: Jon. A raven came from the Citadel. A white raven. Winter is here. Jon Snow: (Smiling) Well, Father always promised, didn't he?

Once again, the show makes sure to connect Ned Stark with a promise, they could have use any word for this dialogue. It could have been Father always warned us, or Father always told us but they made sure to use the word promise which we know its always associated with Jon Snow and the promise Ned Stark made to his sister. So it made me wonder if we ever will found out more about Ned's promises to Lyanna.

Next is part 2, the books chapters.