#just retroactively posting all the chapters on tumblr

[morning-star-joy]

I am not the only traveler

a stranger's heart without a home Chapter 1

Pairing: rivals to friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Fic Summary: Sleeping with Joel Miller was supposed to be a one time thing. When the older brother of your closest friend showed up in Jackson, you hadn't expected him to stay more than a day. You'd both given into a brief moment of passion before he left, and that was the end of that. It didn't matter, you were never going to see him again. Then Joel returns a few months later, and screws up everything about the comforting life you had established in Jackson.

Fic Genre/Tags: One Night Stands into Friends with Benefits (from chapter 3 & on, forgive the exposition), Emotional Slow Burn (really slow), Eventual Romance, some Angst, some Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family (lots of Tommy & Reader and Dina & Reader friendships), Long Chapters (usually around 10k except for this first one)

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) starting in Ch 3, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader around 30, Joel 56) Themes of Grief/PTSD/Depression with mentions of death (family members, both Reader and Joel) that can be heavy at times

Chapter Warnings: Brief Canon-Typical Violence (Infected), Language, Alcohol Use

Wordcount: 5.2k

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || masterlist

ao3 link

You were young when the world ended.

Details of Outbreak Day and those hard days that followed had gotten lost in the flow of time, memories difficult to recall so many years later. You supposed you should count yourself as one of the lucky ones, to have made it long enough that those days had become blurry, the trauma easier to repress.

But never forgotten, you remark to yourself as trained eyes scan your surroundings through the scope. While the immediate events of the Outbreak were heavy with loss, there were some things worse than the Infected and what they took. Some wounds were newer and deeper, too stubborn to heal. Impossible to forget.

Movement catches your eye, and all somber soliloquy is forgotten as you hone in on the Runner shambling through the snow. You inhale, steadying your aim, finger pressing down on the trigger as you slowly exhale.

The Runner hits the ground with a loud bang, joining the other dead Infected scattered around the abandoned barn. You quickly eject the cartridge, scope moving to find the source of an inhuman snarl as another came running around the corner of the building.

It had become a learned routine, a habit as second nature as breathing. Inhale, finger on the trigger, and exhale as a shot rang through the air, and the second one dropped.

You pause.

“Eleven to eight,” a Southern accent drawls from beside you, and you suppress an eye roll as you turn to look at your patrol route partner and perpetual pain in the ass.

“You know,” you sigh as you turn back to look through your scope again, “one of these days you’re gonna shoot at the same time I do, and one of us will look like a fool with a wasted bullet.”

“Probably you,” the stupid comeback was filled with playful arrogance, and this time you couldn’t stop your eye roll.

You huffed quietly as you mumbled, “Charming, Miller.”

Seeing no more movement, you allow yourself to relax. You lean back, rolling your neck to loosen the tension in your muscles as you hear your companion laugh.

“Ah, don’t be a sore loser,” you glare up at the man as he stands and stretches. “Eight ain’t bad. Maybe eventually you’ll beat Eugene.”

You push yourself onto your feet, dismounting your rifle and swinging the strap over your shoulder. “Tommy, we both know Eugene can probably drop more than the both of us combined. To beat him would be an honor.”

The two of you began to head back to where you hitched your horses, your mood lightening now that you had cleared the area and the scent of danger was no longer heavy in the air.

You looked back at your companion to see him smiling amiably back at you. Dark curls, a strong nose and a kind face, Tommy brought comfort to many with his presence, you included. But you knew better than most how deceiving a smiling face could be, especially if you were on the other end of the ex-Firefly’s scope.

Luckily, you had never found yourself unfortunate enough to be caught in his crosshairs. You were sure you wouldn't be alive now to tell the tale if you had been.

“And besides, aren’t you about as old as him, anyway?” you teased as you swiftly mounted your horse, barely hiding a snicker as Tommy grunted from a misstep in placing his foot in the stirrup on his own horse.

“C’mon, I’m nowhere near that old!” You couldn’t help but laugh, both at the protest and the muffled curses behind you as you nudged your horse into motion, forcing Tommy to catch up when he had just barely finished mounting. “Besides, you ain’t that much younger than me, girly.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you tossed an unimpressed look over your shoulder as he eventually managed to catch up and match your pace, “You got at least a decade or two on me, old man.”

“A decade of wisdom,” he drawled with a charming grin, one that had all the ladies fawning over him for a time since you both arrived in Jackson, until Maria locked it down.

“A decade of age,” you countered, urging your horse into a gallop. “And wrinkles! Trying to cover it all up with that hideous thing on your lip?”

You could barely hear his initial reaction over the sound of both of your horses’ hooves hitting the snow-packed ground, but you know it was affronted. His shout pushed against the wind to reach your ears as you rode, “Maria said she likes my mustache!”

Scrunching up your face, you look over at him with a mock sound of disgust. But you couldn’t hide your laughter, your expression cheerful, mirrored by Tommy’s as the two of you took the established patrol route back to Jackson.

Jackson had been your home for the past few years, though you had been tentative to call the settlement such at first. While Jackson was comfortable, there were things that were lacking, presences that couldn’t be filled no matter where you went. Eventually, you figured Jackson was as good a place as any to try and settle down. To try and carve out some kind of life for yourself. 

Besides, it had Tommy, the only friendly face you still recognized. Even if you had really wanted to leave, he was adamant about staying, and you couldn’t bring yourself to part ways after the bond you two had forged. An unbreakable bond, as many forged in the fire were.

Not for the first time, you felt a weight pressing on your abdomen. It was a phantom sensation, a reminder created by the cruel confines of your mind of the mark you had chosen to brandish there. The first life you had chosen to lead after everything had been decided for you since the Outbreak.

Or had you been a follower then, too? The thought echoed in your head as you waited for the gates of Jackson to open, gaze flashing to Tommy beside you, happily content and eyes bright; probably eager to return to Maria.

Are you still following now?

You shake the musings away, horse slowly trotting after Tommy's into the settlement when there was enough space to move through. The mood in the air of Jackson was one of cheer, perhaps holiday cheer if you looked closely enough at the snowmen built by children, carols sung by friends, and trees decorated by families.

Your hands clutched the reins tighter, looking straight forward at your path as the sound of laughter echoed around you. It mixed with the quieter cacophony of workers carrying out their tasks to keep the settlement running, so those fortunate souls that still had families could call it home. You took a strange, sick bit of comfort in the idea that maybe some of those workers were as hardened and bitter as you.

Together with Tommy, you rode slowly to the stables, silently going through the process of unloading your equipment and caring for your respective horses once inside the safety of your respective stalls. You were in the process of running a brush through your horse’s mane when you heard Tommy call out from the next stall over to another patrolman passing by.

“Hey Mike, you seen Maria around?”

You could understand the tinge of worry that leaked into Tommy’s voice when he asked the question. While the two weren’t obvious about their relationship, their marriage was well-known, perhaps even a morale boost to some. Maria usually was lurking somewhere nearby when you and Tommy returned from patrol, but she hadn't been today, which was odd.

“She went out with a group earlier.” You swear you could hear Tommy’s teeth grinding together from your own stall even before Mike was finished explaining. “Bonnie and Greg saw a couple folks across from the dam, they went to check it out.”

Tommy gave a stiff nod, and you both watched as Mike left before you turned back to run the brush through your horse’s mane again.

“She can handle herself,” the words were meant to be a comfort, but there was an unintended edge to your tone that you winced at.

“I know that,” you glanced back over your shoulder to where you heard Tommy continue to unpack his horse. “That’s not the issue, it’s just—”

“I know,” you repeated his own words, voice softer now as you set the brush aside.

Maria’s pregnancy wasn’t common knowledge yet, but Tommy had been too excited, too flat-out drunk from his own personal celebration when he came to your house that night not to let it slip to you. Your loyalty to him ensured that you wouldn’t run your mouth about it, even if you did have the urge to spread that kind of gossip—which you really fucking didn't.

After a few sugar cubes fed to your horse as a treat, you slowly shut the gate to the stall behind you. You leaned against Tommy’s open stall to watch as he fed his own horse an apple, a larger treat he must have been saving.

You knew family was important to Tommy, and how much becoming a father meant to him. While there was a twinge of jealousy you felt for the life he had built after all the shit you both had done, you were happy for him. Maria was great for him, and vice versa, the two balancing each other out when it came to power and humility.

Something was eating away at you though, as you looked over your shoulder to make sure the two of you were alone. You respected their privacy, but you were part of Tommy’s life too, even before Maria was. There was no way you could let it go so easily, and seeing as Maria wasn't around to hear…

“Hey, Tommy,” you said slowly, the toe of your boot tapping against the dirt-packed ground as you wondered how to broach the subject carefully. Experience had taught you how touchy a topic it was you were about to bring up, and he was already in a bad mood now with Maria out, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your inner musings had trudged it up from the back of your mind, and you wouldn’t be satisfied until you acted on it.

“Hm?” He wiped his hands, tugging his gloves back on as he arched a dark brow at you. Both a question and a signal to proceed.

“I was just wondering,” you hedged, arms crossing over your chest as you braced yourself for his reaction, “you send a message to your brother yet?”

You watch as Tommy’s shoulders bunched up, his entire body stiffening, and you have to suppress a sigh.

“Tommy—”

He quickly interrupts you by speaking your own name, his tone dangerously low, signifying the thin ice you were walking on. How stupid it was for you to broach this subject yet again. But you already knew that, and you sure as hell weren’t going to stop now that you had started.

“You’ve never missed a week, Tommy,” you urged as he shook his head and brushed past you, “he’s probably worried sick—”

A harsh chuckle interrupts you, the sound hard and forced. Still, it didn’t deter you as you followed his heels out of the stables after he had shut his horse’s stall.

“That’s a hard sight to imagine,” Tommy’s voice was bitter, not an unusual tone that he possessed when talking about his brother at times. But you had heard the other times he spoke of the man you knew only by name alone, the glowing adoration that said much to the love he still held deep down for his older brother. “I doubt he’s even noticed.”

“Christ, Tommy,” your voice held a note of exasperation to it now. “He’s your brother.”

“And?” He was walking fast, trying to get ahead of you, maybe lose you in the crowds of the main street. But you were quick and in front of him in an instant, making him stumble to a halt so he didn’t barge right into you.

“Look,” your voice was quiet, not wanting any of the residents to overhear this now that you were out in the open, “I respect Maria, probably more than any of those fucking Fireflies we killed for, but—”

“Not,” the words were grounded out of clenched teeth as Tommy stared hard down at you, “another word.”

You bristled, anger filling your veins as he spoke to you in that same tone he had when he was your superior in that godforsaken rebellion. So you let him brush past you, trying to control that simmering rage, not wanting to say anything you might regret to one of the only friends you had left.

Still, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying one last sentence as he started to walk away, the words hauntingly quiet and pulled from your mouth almost as if by some invisible force, “Do you know what I would give for that chance?”

Tommy stopped. He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask what you meant. He didn’t have to.

You watched as he hesitated, gloved hands clenching into fists before relaxing as he looked back at you. His gaze was somber; asking you for forgiveness, but resolute in his path.

A defeated exhale escaped your lips as you gave a short nod, laying this issue to rest for now. You both knew you would bring it up again at some point, as you had been over the past few weeks since you had learned Maria had convinced him to stop sending the radio messages across the country to his brother. Just because Tommy was growing a new family now, didn’t mean he had to forsake the one he used to have.

The heated exchange was not new, but it still left you exhausted. Combined with the physical tension you held between your shoulders whenever you patrolled, you nearly dragged your feet as you walked towards the nearest spot you could stop at for a drink.

“You’re back!”

The bright words pulled you out of the darkness of whatever lonely path your thoughts had led you down. You looked up from the bottom of your liquor glass over to the young, freckled face beaming up at you. You should’ve known it wouldn’t have taken her long to find you, the kid was persistent as fuck when she set her mind on something. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed as your lips quirked into a half-smile.

“Always so astute,” you reply, though your tone only held a friendly teasing with the snarky response as you brought your glass up for another sip.

The teenager scoffed, rolling her eyes as she hopped up onto the stool next to you, ignoring the complaints of the bartender about adults only as she focused her attention on you. “How many did you get today?”

You took your time sipping your alcohol, finding it hard not to spit out the drink in laughter at the impatient look on the girl’s face. After finally putting the glass back down, you took a moment to indicate you wanted a refill to the bartender before answering, “Eight.”

“Aw, man,” she sighed as she crumpled, head falling onto her arms that she had dramatically thrown onto the bar. You did laugh this time, much to her apparent annoyance judging by how she peeked an eye out to fix you with a withering glare. “You’ll never catch up to Tommy like that!”

“Uh, he only got eleven,” you added, smiling and sending a nod to the bartender as your glass is filled with the amber liquid once more. “I wasn’t that far behind.”

“That’s double digits! You’ve never gotten double digits.”

“Dina,” you drew out the name of the girl in what was supposed to be a reprimanding tone, but it was impossible to hide the fondness you felt for your young shadow.

Even if you knew there were hardly enough Infected around Jackson to get double digits when you and Tommy were both out taking care of them on an established patrol route. Even though the girl who looked up to you didn’t know the body count you had left behind before coming to Jackson, or how many times you had pulled Tommy's dumb ass out of the fire.

“May I remind you that eight is more than you get?”

Dina’s head shot up from her arms, her glare shooting daggers at you. “Only because nobody lets me go.”

“Because you’re still a kid,” you remind her, earning a scoff as she swings herself around on the stool, ponytail swinging behind her back as her arms crossed in an act of stubborn defiance.

“One day, I’ll get more than the both of you combined,” Dina mumbles, and you smile wistfully at her adolescent determination.

Your glass lifts to her in a toast. “Looking forward to it,” you grin as she scoffs, ignoring the push she gives to your shoulder as she calls you an old drunk.

“Uh, Tommy’s old,” you countered as you knocked back the rest of your drink, wincing at the burn down your throat, but relishing the warmth it supplied after the day you spent in the cold. “Eugene is really fucking old. Me? I’m young as fuck.”

“Oh really?” Dina counters as she hops to her feet, followed by you as you stretch your arms over your head. “I can hear those old bones creaking as you stretch.”

You jokingly poke the back of her head as you fall into step besides her. “Little shit, you'll be as old as me in ten years,” you chastise, tone devoid of any real anger. She playfully shoves you back and you overdramatically stumble, drawing bright laughter from her that you joined in with.

Dina had arrived at Jackson not that long after you and Tommy had. You remembered your heart aching for the girl who looked so lost, alone with no family and friends to take care of her. Maybe you saw some part of yourself in her; or maybe you had seen a ghost of what you had lost. 

No matter what it was, it spurred you to take the girl under your wing, the two of you forging a close bond akin to a mentorship. Dina loved hearing your stories, living vicariously through the tales of your past as well as the patrols you took up around Jackson. She didn't have to know those stories from your history were always fragments, leaving out the worst of the brutality you had committed. She was satisfied with the adventure they told.

“So, how was your date?” you teased as the two of you pushed out of the building into the crisp winter air. You shoved your hands into your jacket to warm them up, laughing at the blush that flooded Dina’s cheeks as she glared up at you.

“It wasn’t a date!”

“You and Jesse hanging out alone wasn’t a date?” you countered with a brow arched in doubt.

“I hang out with Jesse all the time,” Dina muttered as she kicked at the ground, and you hold back a laugh to protect her fragile young pride more than anything.

“Yeah, but not alone,” you point out, waiting for whatever biting remark Dina was preparing before a sharp shout pierced the air and caught your attention.

Your heart leapt into your throat as it only took a moment to realize the booming voice had called out Tommy’s name. Feet shuffling forward, you peered through the street in search of the man, searching for any hint of danger and relaxing only once you saw him safe from harm from where he stood atop a scaffolding.

He wasn’t injured, but there was something in Tommy's eyes that you had never seen before. An intensity, almost disbelief as he stared at something, or somebody. You followed his gaze, brows furrowing as you saw Maria’s group had returned and was moving down the street, but that definitely hadn’t been Maria that had shouted.

Movement catches your eye, and your gaze snaps to a man dismounting one of the horses. Your brows furrowed, not able to instantly place a name to the face of an older man, hardened both by age and the harsh life of an apocalyptic land. Strange that you couldn't name him, considering how well you knew most of the Jackson guards and patrolmen by now.

Maybe he wasn’t a patrolman? Your mind raced through options as you tried to keep up, hampered slightly by the alcohol you had consumed as you looked over the group. You recognized them all, except—

Your gaze stops on a young girl, maybe around the same age as Dina, sitting on another one of the horses. You frowned, remembering what Mike had said about finding people near the dam. Was this them? You looked back to see the man moving towards Tommy, who was quickly descending from the scaffolding.

Father and daughter, maybe? But why had he called out to Tommy? What—

You watched as the two men embraced each other in a tight hug, and suddenly something clicked.

Joel, the name resounds in your mind. You lean back on your heels, shocked for a moment. A huff of disbelief leaves you, forming a small cloud of cold air in front of your eyes, obscuring your view for a moment before clearing to show the two men laughing and grinning at each other as they pulled back before hugging again.

You smiled, feeling a hint of warmth in that hollowed out place in your heart. A sting pricked the back of your eyes and you shook your head, patting Dina on the shoulder as you turned around to head back inside the food hall.

“I need another drink.”

The bowl of chili in front of you was half-eaten, only due to the urging from Dina to get something in your stomach.

“I’m not drunk,” you had tried to reassure her, “just a little tipsy.”

“Yeah, well, if they decide to come in here, we need a reason to stay,” she had snapped back as she tried to shove you into a seat again. “So eat!”

A barely contained chuckle nearly passes your lips as you look up from your food to where the girl had wandered to now, hiding behind a pillar, though hardly effectively. You made a note to yourself to teach her a bit more about being stealthy later. Who knew if she might need it someday, especially if she wanted to patrol for Jackson when she was old enough.

Although you tried to give the group their privacy, you ended up with an ear half-tuned into their conversation as your food helped to slowly sober you up a bit. At least you weren’t half as obvious as everybody else in that food hall right now. One glance around showed all of the attention was on the four seated at the center table.

You did pride yourself on the fact that you hadn’t looked at them since they had first walked in. What a strange stroke of luck that they ended up in the same spot as you and Dina, much to the teenager’s excitement as she slowly became restless enough that she had abandoned her own food to sneak off to a spot where she could get a better look at the new arrivals. Or one of the new arrivals in particular.

It wasn’t every day somebody her age showed up in Jackson, so you couldn’t blame her for being curious. You had to admit you were curious about the unexpected arrivals yourself, though your curiosity was based on a bit more knowledge than the pure unknown everyone else was dealing with.

Tommy was always sparing in recounting details about his past, but you were closer to the man than most. A bond forged in firefights, the two of you had relied on each other for years in the Fireflies. Those habits were hard to get rid of even now that you had settled in Jackson. Oftentimes he would seek you out for a right-hand man, knowing you would get the job done and watch his back, trusting you as much as you did him.

More than that, Tommy had become a friend. Maybe even family, if the two of you were blackout drunk and giggling over a stupid, shitty joke you wouldn’t remember in the morning. After all the loss you had suffered, you found you could rely on Tommy to be a constant, something you desperately needed after parting with the Fireflies. And it seemed that Tommy might need that, too. Although he had Maria now, you were both fond enough of each other to still spend more time together than not.

Which was why you knew more or less just who Joel Miller was. The picture that Tommy had painted of his older brother in your mind was of a cutthroat man, unafraid to get rid of anybody who stood in the way of whatever he wanted. From most of the information you had gathered, though, what he wanted seemed to be keeping the two of them safe.

Still, you had seen Tommy in action. You knew exactly what he was capable of, and knew who he had learned it from. There was no way in hell you would ever want to be on the opposite side of him, and if Joel was worse? If he had been the leader of the two, and Tommy was just a watered down version?

You spared a glance back over your shoulder to see Joel shoveling food into his mouth alongside the girl. The intense way they both gripped their forks and stabbed at their meals could almost make you laugh, the two mirror images of each other. Like father, like daughter, you supposed, although Joel having a daughter was news to you.

But Tommy had always kept the details of Joel’s life pretty locked up, from their time in the Boston QZ all the way back to life before the Outbreak. All you knew was that they were from Texas, and that Tommy had been in the army. You never felt the urge to pry, respecting his desire for privacy. Life from before and immediately after the Outbreak was private for a lot of people, you included.

Besides, anything you needed to know about Tommy, you already knew—mostly the fact that he wouldn’t shoot you in the back.

“What?”

You looked back up at the confrontational shout, seeing the girl next to Joel had snapped at—

Laughter bubbled up in your throat that you had to fight to hold back as you followed the girl’s gaze to see Dina backing off from her unsuccessful hiding place. The back of your hand covers your mouth as you smother the laugh that managed to escape, clearing your throat sharply to cover it up. You shoot Dina an apologetic look when you feel her glare at you.

You gave it a minute or two after she left, your fork absentmindedly pushing around the rest of your food before you push yourself up to your feet with a sigh. You felt a twinge of sympathy to the embarrassment Dina probably felt at being caught, but it was entertaining to see the new girl with Joel could potentially go toe-to-toe with the headstrong teenager.

Your eye gravitates towards the table of four as you pass by, holding back a wince as you notice Tommy taking Maria’s hand. Had he not told his brother that he had gotten married?

Fuck, Tommy, you think to yourself, shaking your head as you glance over at Joel, jumping when you find yourself in direct eye contact with him.

The stare Joel fixed you with was severe, definitely harder than you had ever seen Tommy look at a friendly stranger. Even closer now, you could see how right you were when you judged his face was weathered by age and experience.

Prominent frown lines and what seemed to be a permanent crease between his brow already said a lot about his hard exterior. Then there was the intensity of his dark brown gaze, his pupils moving back and forth across your face as if he was sizing you up, assessing your threat level and how fast he could take you down if needed.

Maybe you weren’t a friendly stranger to Joel. Hair that might have been as dark as Tommy's at one point was now lightened with gray, and physical features aside, his stern presence left no doubt that Joel was the older of the two brothers. Perhaps all those years focused on survival had worn him down, and he couldn’t see a friendly face in anyone anymore.

You couldn't really blame him if that was the case. He and Tommy were probably both still alive because of that caution, and for being responsible for Tommy's survival alone, you felt gratitude for the grizzled survivor.

Not that he would understand, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was reading from you in those few seconds you observed him.

“Joel, say congrats,” the girl at his side hissed. Joel’s attention snapped back to his brother at the words, and you finally looked away. 

Tension you hadn’t realized gathering in your body released, and you rolled your shoulders backwards to try and relieve the sore muscles. Behind you, Joel’s Southern accent, edges of the lilt rougher than Tommy's, echoed with an empty congratulations. 

Despite your better judgement, you scoffed at the empty sentiment.

You knew Tommy would be searching for his brother’s approval, and it certainly wasn’t given with that short tone. Shaking your head and trying to rid yourself of the mild annoyance you felt at Joel’s displayed indifference, you reminded yourself that you knew nothing of their family affairs. Just because Tommy might as well be the only family you had left, didn’t mean you were the same to him.

That thought brought a wince to your face as you pushed through the doors back into the picture-perfect winter scene of Jackson. Strands of lights reflected iridescent in the snow, children running through it and having snowball fights as their parents looked on in joy.

It struck you then, a feeling you weren’t a stranger too, but one that carved further into that hollow place in your chest each time you felt it.

You were lonely.

Yes, you had Tommy and Dina. And yes, you knew you weren’t the only sole survivor of a family line in Jackson. But in moments like this, especially in the long winter months when the nostalgic scent of what should’ve been the holidays lingered in the air, it was hard not to feel the sting of all you had lost.

You quickly zip up your jacket, pulling the collar closer around your neck as your fingers already start to numb at the chill in the air. Pulling your gloves out of your pocket and onto your hands, you wander out into the streets of Jackson, searching for another purpose in the cold.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 32

Make Your Bets Now!

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 12,614 😳😳

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: A Forest ~ The Cure | Burn Your Village ~ Kiki Rockwell

Summary: The White Stag is chased through the woods. The hunters begin to show their true colors, while the prey just tries to survive. You might not be the only one running away.

Recap: The banquet is underway, and you were dressed as the White Stag. You met your nine suitors, some of whom came as a shock. You gave each hunter an arrow, a symbol of their right to claim you. Uncle Cedrick just gave you a ten minute head start.

Author's Note: Hi!!! Thank you so much for your patience while I've been dealing with all the things! I've still been writing, as you can tell by the word count! 😬 Lol, I did a poll way back when Shanks first arrived asking if y'all would prefer two regular size chapters with no smut in one, or one giant chapter with the smut. So here ya go, lol, you asked for it! 😅🤭

Content Warning: There's not much dark content to warn for this chapter (besides the usual Numbers Game shenanigans & Buggy's POV on the Dr. Vorsan visit), but I wanted to give a heads up that there is a flashback of the 14 year old reader having a crush on an adult. Nothing occurs, but there is some very mild creepiness that could be interpreted as inappropriate. I WILL NEVER write about minors in that way, so please know that this is just a teenage crush! In case you would like to skip that, I'll bracket it with these ~~~⚫~~~

Fic Updates & Questions:

I will be retroactively adding titles to all chapters. I prefer to have titles for every chapter of a fic, but decided not to add them when I thought this was going to be a one shot 🤦🏼‍♀️ (We're getting closer to the end, and outlining will be way easier if I can remember which chapter things happened in, lol.) I'm going with quotes/lines from the chapters for the title theme. Also, I only used "part" instead of "chapter" on tumblr for formatting space, but I always call them chapters so 🤷‍♀️

Since this is a reader insert fic (that I thought would be a one shot 😅), I've tried to keep as many personal details as vague as possible so that we can all hop onto that lovely, green couch. I'm not planning to state the reader's age within the fic, but as we get further into the story, some of you numbers girl's may be able to figure out the math based on the flashbacks and such. I have a whole ass timeline graphed out, so if anyone is interested in knowing the specific ages and dates of related OP canon and Numbers Game canon, I'd be down to make a separate post just for that.

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc. As we get further into Egghead Arc, there will be some spoilers (mainly from manga cover stories or SBS questions for minor characters' motivations, such as what the Vinsmoke's and Charlotte's have been up to since Wano, and why they'd want to marry our lovely heiress.)

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Toxic Family, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Pain Kink, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Blowjobs, Threats, Relationship Drama, Anal, Doctors, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

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~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“I told you to run.”

Uncle Cedrick wet his lips after he hissed at you again, smirking while you transformed for him, and for his silent hunters and cheering guests. 

The white stag. The hunted. The prey. 

You’d never felt less human than you did right now, and the sense of danger in the air sent you racing toward the trees. 

It was disorienting to move in this fumbling body. Some foul magic must have stolen your hooves, your graceful limbs, your fur to fend off the cool breeze of the night. 

All you had left were your antlers, but they couldn’t help you flee. You escaped your heels, kicking free from the tight shoes as though they were traps meant to hold you still for the hunters to find. The dress made you panic, the weight of it wearing you down like trash left to suffocate creatures too helpless to free themselves from human garbage. You tried to lift the heavy skirts while you ran, but the train dragged behind you, catching on roots and branches as you fled. 

Logic started to break through the adrenaline in bits and pieces, but the forest had pulled you into a dream.

“This isn’t a dream,” you panted to yourself, slowing down to lean against a tree. 

That wild panic had left you with no idea how long you’d been running, but your heart was trying to escape from your body, and your lungs struggled to catch up as you let yourself stop. 

That should be enough drama for Uncle’s show. Why should I care who catches me first? I have to date all of them anyway. 

And the fear was back. 

Nine men were about to stalk you through the woods at night, and you’d just run deeper into the darkness, like a fucking idiot.

Though you doubted that staying closer to the courtyard would have made you any safer. All of those leeches were here to watch the show. They’d probably already placed bets on which hunter would get his greedy hands on you first.

Don’t cry. 

You almost did. Every time you thought you could accept your fate, Uncle Cedrick found ways to make it more torturous, more humiliating. 

Apathy tried to protect you, a welcome friend that lulled your emotions to sleep until you stared into nothing, your logical mind reciting your thoughts on a loop to distract from what you were putting away.

I already gave the leeches a good show. It doesn’t matter who catches me first. 

Useless rage replaced your apathy in a flash at the memory of the traitor touching your skin. Shanks was the last man you wanted to catch you, but Uncle’s threats felt like hidden traps, like suffocating trash, like this stupid dress that snagged on every branch. 

I won’t give them anything else to hurt me with. 

Crashes and yells entered the forest like a storm, and you were the white stag again.

You ran. 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Shanks had only been gone for a day, but the clown found himself aching for him in a way he hadn’t in years. 

Letting Shanks back in had opened the door to all this shit he’d tried to stuff away, but he didn’t have room for all of these feelings right now. Not when his star was slurring her words, her voice high and distant while she tried to convince this fucking doctor that all their time together had meant nothing.

“It was all pretend. I was bored. I know it was risky behavior, I s-see that nn…”

“I’m glad you’re expressing that awareness, Y/N,” Dr. Vorsan’s voice bore down even through her frantic heartbeat, “but you still haven’t talked about the clown. It’s important that we understand our triggers so that we can prevent future episodes.”

She’s not breathing!

“You don’t want to have any more episodes, do you, Y/N?”

“No,” she agreed, though Buggy barely heard her over her now ragged breath. 

“Good. Part of staying well means cooperating with your treatment,” the slimeball purred. “Why did you go with the clown?”

“He was sweet. And funny... I liked him.”

Buggy looked to the ceiling, unknowable emotions pulling his face into a grimace. 

“You just told me that it was all pretend. That you were bored.”

“I, yes…”

“Clarity, Y/N,” the pompous creep scolded. “We can’t make changes if we don’t acknowledge our patterns. Why did you go with the clown?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Buggy growled.

The next words he heard had to be from her lips, but it sounded wrong, as though she’d been possessed by the concept of emptiness itself. His star was hollow. 

Gone. 

“I used him. I wanted to run. I’m selfish.”

No, baby, don’t say that.

The fucker didn’t say anything for too long. He couldn’t hear any rustling, only his empty star, breathing just enough to keep her alive. 

“Your family was very worried for you. That extreme, self destructive behavior—“

“I know,” Y/N snapped, then Buggy heard the sound of skin against skin, as though she’d slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m s-s-sorry, doctor, I…”

“It’s quite, alright, Y/N,” the man fucking chuckled. “You’ve just experienced an episode that must have caused some additional trauma, but you’re safe now.”

Buggy hadn’t taken notes, and he looked down to find a shredded notepad on his lap, his shaky hands clenching into the paper. 

“Do you want to be safe?”

“Yes, doctor,” Y/N stated, the gravity of a black hole in her voice. 

“Was it safe to run away with pirates?”

What the fuck is he doing to her? 

“No.”

“Good. Now, tell me about the clown.”

Circles and circles of this talk spun through Buggy’s mind, and it seemed like nothing was said, yet he could hear his star break a little more with every word. 

“I’ll rip his tongue out, baby. Make him eat it for you. Don’t listen to him.”

“Excellent work today. Self reflection is difficult, but it’s the only way to heal.”

“Thank… Thank you, doctor.”

“There’s no need to thank me. You have the power to stay well all on your own, as long as you put in the work to take care of yourself. Just try to remember the kind of life you wish to have. You don’t want to lose yourself in another episode, do you, Y/N?”

“No, doctor.”

The clown laid in silence for hours while his broken lover did the same. Somehow Y/N built herself up again, preparing to head to dinner with her sister, and her voice was almost as clear as it had been before the session. 

She keeps all of this inside… I didn’t even—

“Come on, little clown. Don’t eat dinner on the floor again.”

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

The Emperor of the Sea followed an usher to his seat, feeling high as he twirled the decorative arrow in his fingers. He was lucky to have made it in time, and luckier still that Y/N had looked at him like that. Shanks was sure that it wasn’t really lust in those magnetic eyes of hers. Buggy’s fallen star was difficult to read, but it had to be a message. An opening. 

I’ll get you out of here, Y/N. 

Even Benn’s smirking face couldn’t diminish the flames she’d warmed in him, his first mate pulling his seat out while he approached. The last few tables at the edge of the courtyard seemed filled with guests that were either late or large, the nearest competitor being the two story tall Prince Fukaboshi. 

Before Shanks could greet his rival, Sylvad’s voice carried through the night air, testing the Emperor’s ability to fake a smile. 

“Thank you all for joining our family as we celebrate the hunt for a new member! I am honored to help strengthen the Sylvad legacy by making sure that my enchanting niece finds the most loving, and of course, the most profitable match,” he admitted with a smug laugh. “Just as this marks the beginning of a new era for our family, I’m sure that most of you have sensed the shift in the waters.”

Cedrick paused for effect with Y/N posed like some pretty doll at his side while his guests murmured in agreement.

“For generations, the Sylvad’s have stood in enthusiastic support of the Marines. Although I still pay them an exorbitant amount to show up when I call, their many recent failures, and acts of overreaching, have shown them to be nothing more than expensive, and exceedingly annoying guard dogs.”

The laughter he drew was mixed, both nervous and pleased, and Shanks was sure he wasn’t the only one to catch the threat in those playful words. 

“The world is changing, and I intend to keep my family strong, even if we have to shoo the seagulls away,” he vowed with enough humor to keep the mood light. “But enough about all that, we’re here to enjoy ourselves. Let’s welcome in the New Era together with a good old fashioned hunt!”

Confusion was clouded by the applause Cedrick had demanded with his gestures and tone after he offered Y/N a hand. Watching that man touch her had Shanks’ jaw clenching, holding himself back while she truly looked like prey under his smirking grin.

“I think our white stag is feeling a bit skittish, but that's nothing a little chase can't fix. The first hunter to catch her claims the first date!”

Shanks watched in horror as Cedrick led his niece to the edge of the courtyard, speaking to her too softly to hear before she ran toward the trees, stumbling in that fucking costume he’d stuffed her into. 

Benn nudged his ankle, stopping Shanks from finishing his movement. Gryphon was on the ship anyway, and he wasn’t sure what use his sword would do other than to comfort his helpless soul.

I’m a villain now. Maybe I should just kill everyone here. 

He chugged the glass of wine in front of him, as though swallowing the liquor could help him swallow the layers of guilt that made no sense to him.

The bright light of that wounded star disappeared into the trees, but there was no reprieve. A large, white canvas was rolled out over the side of the manor walls while servants pushed a massive transponder snail on a wheeled cart up the path. The courtyard was silent until the snail’s eyes flickered, its mouth open as sounds of heavy breathing and snapping twigs came through before the live feed was projected. 

Two images appeared on that blank wall, bringing gasps and applause from the guests while Sylvad preened.

“In ten minutes,” he announced, doing a flourish as a timer popped up on the frantic screen, “the hunt for the white stag begins. The man that touches her first wins the hunt, and will earn the first private date tomorrow evening, as well as the pleasure of dining with the lovely doe tonight.”

The lovely doe in question was panting as she kicked off her heels, running barefoot through the woods. On the left was a jostled scene of darkness and trees, but as she looked down to lift her skirts, it was clear that a cam snail must be on her head, maybe hidden in those antlers. The second image continued to flip, showing her running and struggling through the brush from endless angles. 

Does he have a surveillance snail on every fucking tree on this island?

“What a strange courtship custom,” Prince Fukaboshi noted quietly, although his size let the words carry enough for Shanks to let out a sharp laugh, smiling up at the merman to cover his anger before Sylvad continued.

“You may woo my niece however you like, so long as it doesn’t cause her unsalvageable harm, or remove her from this island. I won’t have my vacation home turned into a war zone, so do watch your violence. I know that some of you have had disagreements in the past, but let’s keep the fighting to a minimum unless it’s part of a game, alright lads? We wouldn’t want to spoil the fun for everyone.”

Leeches…

Servants came around to all the tables to take bets from the guests while the courtyard followed the white stag’s every, panicked step. 

Hawk was right, this security is something else.

“This isn’t a dream.”

“Aww, isn’t she a darling,” a diamond-studded, older woman crooned, inspiring more guests to make noises about how precious she looked while she caught her breath, eyes blank as she leaned against a tree. 

“You’re gonna catch that little bunny, aren’t ya, Captain?”

Shanks let out a breath, finally breathing, when he met his first mate’s gaze. Benn was steady, the curve of his lips and shine of his eyes hiding the intensity from those that didn’t know him, but his captain recognized the look. 

It’s time to get serious.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

Easy silence wrapped around the three men during dinner, interspersed with deep, hushed voices, and the scratching of Buggy’s pen while he doodled. He couldn’t help but feel thankful for the less noteworthy hours that had passed since his star had met with the doctor. 

“Zala checked in,” Crocodile reported between bites. “Guess she wasn’t suited to the restaurant business after all.”

“That’s Miss Doublefinger, yes?”

“Not anymore,” he sighed at Mihawk’s question. “Zala used to work well with Daz Bonez, and she’s investigating Dr. Vorsan. Refused to help without bringing Marianne along though… Ms. Goldenweek.”

“The child,” Mihawk questioned, giving a gentle tilt to his head. His lover seemed to get touchy when his old organization was brought up. 

“She’s eighteen now,” came the curt answer, although the larger man almost smiled at those damn, golden eyes. 

“Uncle ChodeTick’s talking to her, taking a walk,” Buggy reported, guilt cutting them off before they could get too flirty. The clown scribbled his notes, the easy silence less easy now. 

Mihawk’s lifetime of dedication to becoming the strongest did nothing for him now. All he could do was watch every subtle, pained expression on Buggy’s face while he suffered, the bravest of them all. 

“The agents are infiltrating the asylum the doctor runs when he’s not fucking with our girl,” Crocodile shared, his voice hushed. 

“Sending a teenager to infiltrate an insane asylum? You are ruthless, aren’t you,” Mihawk flirted lightly. He was learning this man, and for the first time he wasn’t making excuses about why. His tone paid off, and he smirked at the playful look on that scarred face.

“Marianne‘ll be fine, I’m sure she’s looking forward to art therapy. Plus, Zala will— what’s wrong, Buggy?”

The clown gestured for silence while his face went red with rage, listening to the rules, and the threats that her monster of an uncle was caging his star with. 

“FUCK!!”

The nearly empty plates and glasses went flying as Buggy flipped the table, his body shaking in every direction, unable to sit with himself for another second.

“I’m pathetic! I can’t help her. I can’t fucking do ANYTHING!”

Crocodile and Mihawk caught as many pieces of him as they could, and wrapped themselves around Buggy until he breathed again, holding most of his body between them. 

“Don’t say that, Buggy.”

“Shh, little clown. You’ve done enough.”

“He’s gonna make her…” Buggy barely managed to choke out the sound, glad that the asshole had left her alone already. One more word from his lips would have made the him explode. 

Her words were worse though. 

“She said she’s gonna fuck the ones she…” He cried out between their now stiff bodies. “He threatened her with… She has to…”

“She has to do what, Buggy,” Crocodile asked, amazed at how steady his voice was while he knelt down to meet the clown’s tired eyes. He kept his hand stroking along his side, that body slumping instead of flying apart now. 

He couldn’t say it, exhaustion making the clown sway against Crocodile’s touch before he floated his hand toward the mess he’d made of the table. Mihawk caught the notepad, his eyes going apocalyptic as he read over Cedrick’s “rules” for the games.  

The swordsman wanted to fly into violence and rage, to turn to ice, and make everything in his path disappear. 

But Buggy’s eyes made him pause, the words on the page having too many consequences, too much weight. 

“Buggy, she said this in anger, did she not? I doubt she’ll really—“

“You didn’t hear him,” Buggy snapped, starting to float and pace while Crocodile read the notes. The clown snatched the notepad off the floor after the scarred man dropped it, his hand shaking with rage. 

“He’s twisted,” Buggy continued.

“He’s dead,” came a rough voice, the fury of a sandstorm barely contained in that vow. 

“Yes, he is,” Mihawk promised as he reached for Buggy. He pushed that lovely, blue hair behind the remaining ear, almost smiling at the ear plug he found. “We will get her out of there, but we need you sane. If our little rabbit needs to take care of herself, we’ll find a way to keep you—“

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Buggy floated just out of reach, glaring down at the swordsman as though he’d started speaking some alien language. 

“You shouldn’t have to listen to that, little clown,” Crocodile soothed, resting his own rage when he realized what Mihawk was saying. “If it happens, we’ll make it loud over here so you can’t hear, or you could—“

“You want me to shove my fingers in my ears while her screams echo through the halls,” Buggy hissed. His anger was building up around him, heating the air, strangling any sense of peace from the room as those old words hit their mark. 

The two monsters under his glare froze, shame stunning them into silence. 

“You think I said I’d rather watch you fuck my star into oblivion just for FUN,” he seethed, his eyes going manic while he floated above them. “I’m a sick fuck, and ended up having flashy, old time, but that’s not why I had to watch.”

He was that frightening showman again, and they were drawn into his act. 

“I’m sorry, Bug—“

“I made myself watch while you took her from me,” he recalled in an almost sing-song voice that chilled the other men’s blood. “I watched and watched, because… I have to listen because…”

The crack in his own voice made him waver, dipping in the air a bit while he stared at the pained faces of these terrifying men. 

“What if they hurt her?”

Silence clashed with the cacophony inside their minds until Crocodile reached toward the clown again, gripping into his shoulder, and sending fear flashing through him while their faces grew closer. 

“We’ll kill them.”

“B-but–”

“Come on, brave, little clown,” Crocodile breathed over his trembling lips. “Why don’t you show me all your toys, huh? How many Buggy Balls would it take to blow up that whole fucking island if we need to?”

As they sighed, falling into the relief of distraction together, Mihawk sank against the wall, becoming nothing more than a threatening statue. He could have tried to grab onto the lifeline his lovers had just created, that comforting moment of camaraderie in violence while the clown indulged in and shared one of his favorite topics.

Yet, the swordsman couldn’t let it go. 

His little rabbit, forced to bed her captors again. 

She’s strong. She’s wicked. She’ll enjoy herself. Then we’ll get her back.

The fear that Y/N might enjoy herself enough to not want to return left Mihawk sick. He had to step outside, wandering down to the garden he’d barely thought of since she was no longer there to smell it on him. 

He found himself fisting into the dirt in that walled garden, huffing a laugh when he smelled the faint, sour scent on his fingers before wiping them on his pants. Red flashed in his mind, and the ex-Warlord sat in the dirt, wishing that love and trust were as simple to cultivate as the garden he’d been too preoccupied to plant. 

“I trust you,” Mihawk whispered to his red haired lover across the sea. The thought of how insufferable Shanks would be if he ever uttered those words in front of him brought a soft smile to his lips. “Please, bring her back. I need her by my side.”

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Time was a human construct, and as your ungraceful body ran like the prey he had transformed you into, you couldn’t tell how long it took for the yells and crashes to race toward you. 

Eternity. 

One fucking second.

A clearing appeared before you, but as you stepped into the open space, an impossible man filled up your world. He knelt down, still towering over you, and all the sounds of chaos in the forest faded while his crimson eyes asked for permission.

Katakuri reached for you, his massive hand outstretched, but he didn’t grab you. 

There was no way you could describe the subtle shift in those stunning eyes when you lifted your hand to take his, but they went wide before you made contact, his hand shooting out impossibly fast behind you. The giant of a man wasn’t fast enough, and cold fear poured through you before you had a warm body wrapped around yours from behind.

“I’ve got you, bunny,” Shanks purred, breathing a little hard as he pressed his lips against your ear. His arm was wrapped around you, holding you tight, as though you were a prize the others would try to tear from his grip. 

You wished they would.

“If we were allowed to wear our raid suits we would have–”

“Don’t complain, brother,” a taunting voice floated through the trees while Shanks looked you over, never taking his hand off of you while he guided you through the trees. “We’ll have plenty more chances. Our little bride likes being hunted, remember? You heard what the old man said about the Cross–”

A strange noise left your throat when Shanks bent down to wrap his arm under your thighs, lifting you up over his shoulder before running too fucking fast. Running until you saw the lovely lanterns again, until the courtyard came into view.

Your own bedraggled image was spread across the outer wall of the manor, the huge snail showing two screens that flashed through replays of your pathetic race and capture. It showed a few highlights of the hunters, including Shanks smashing through what looked like a wall of giant crackers, and Iceburg crawling on the ground in the wrong direction. Now they displayed various angles of the winner carrying his prize.

Shanks was surreal. No one cheered for the slab of meat he’d claimed, not when the Emperor of the Sea looked like some dark god of the forest, a hero bringing home a feast to his starving people.

The image had you closing your eyes, playing into the exhaustion so you wouldn’t have to look at him anymore. 

“Red Haired Shanks, everyone,” Uncle announced as he slowed the audience’s applause, and you opened your eyes to find him beside you, leading your captor to the head table. “The emperor has earned the first private date tomorrow evening, as well as the seat of honor tonight. I hope everyone worked up an appetite.”

I’m not here.

Both men had their hands on you while they propped you up between them, and you faced the courtyard to find the ravenous guests practically drooling over the sight of your torn and dirty dress. Thankfully your back was to the screen, so you didn’t have to keep watching yourself stumbling through the dark. 

The stragglers made their way back, and your mind kept spacing, floating while your torturers chatted, until dinner arrived. 

Servants carried a long stretch of table over the stone path, “ooh’s” and “aah’s” making you more nauseated the closer it got, until they laid out the mythical beast before you. 

Your uncle had caught a white stag. 

He had caught it, killed it, and was laughing while its dead eyes stared at you, its useless antlers like some tragic centerpiece. Uncle Cedrick ordered its flesh to be passed to every plate, so that each of his friends might share in his auspicious meal. 

“Here’s to those with the heart of a hunter,” he toasted. “May your arrows always hit their mark.”

Every bite they took tore through your own skin, the slow prey gone still while the pack of wolves enjoyed their meal. An animal again, your mind was incapable of reason or words, but even the soul of the deer could feel this truth pulsing deep within the bones that the monsters hadn’t yet picked clean.

You would not survive this. They were going to devour you whole.

~~~

“Y/N? Sis? Are you okay?”

Some part of you that only existed for your sister reacted to the worry in her voice, blinking up at her while she carefully pulled the antlers off of your head. Another image of the deer’s mutilated body flashed through your mind as you watched her hold them to her chest before turning away, hurrying toward the door. You stared, thoughts thankfully leaving your mind while she threw the cursed antlers down the corridor.

“Are you okay,” she checked in again when she returned her gentle fingers to your hair.

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, voice coming out raw. “Where is everyone?”

“I’ll get you cleaned up,” Kat assured. Her sharp eyes were wider than normal, but your urge to comfort her couldn’t break through your exhaustion, your delirium. “I didn’t think you’d want all the servants around.”

Gratitude swelled with the lump in your throat while Kat’s soft fingers transformed you, bringing you back to humanity. 

“I’m sorry he’s still such an asshole to you,” your sister breathed, starting to clean the scrapes that littered your legs and feet. “Running through the forest like… You’re getting married, not hunted. He didn’t need to make it so… I’m sorry.”

“Married,” you gave a tired laugh, closing your eyes before you went down the spiral. A hiss left your lips, your body jolting when she dabbed at a particularly unpleasant scrape.

“I’m going to call Dr. Gilli,” Kat announced, stopping you from digging your nails into your thighs. “No one else, and I’ll stay with you, okay?”

“No pills. No shots,” you ordered, too frantic to care about holding it in. 

“Of course not,” she sighed when your breathing started to calm. “I just don’t want to be responsible for your legs falling off from infection. Is that alright with you, sis?”

“Fine.” The slight teasing Kat had managed to put in her tone made your lips twitch, but that hint of relief took all of your energy. Your sister stayed with you, holding your hand while the family doctor looked you over.

Dr. Gilli had always been sweet to you, but the sight of your blood on her gloves while she gushed about how beautiful you looked, and how lucky you were to have such a romantic engagement, made you want to kick that sweet face in. 

“Thank you, doctor,” Kat frowned, shooing the woman out just in time before you punched her in the throat for asking you about babies. 

Kat helped you into bed, crawling in beside you like you were kids again. 

You used to be the big sister. Four years had always felt like such a big gap, especially with everything you had tried to protect her from. 

Until you couldn’t even protect yourself, and Kat had to become the big sister. 

Gratitude and guilt over that fact could never balance out, and as much as you loved her and needed her right now, you ached for her to leave so you could break down. 

Instead, slow tears stained your pillowcase while her comforting presence held you in a quiet cage. 

“It’s only a month,” she whispered while she stroked your hair. “We’re going to find the best husband for you, and then you’ll take over the company. I know it’s scary, but I believe in you, Y/N, just like dad did… I know you’re ready, and I’ll be right here with you.”

Kat’s misplaced trust froze you for what felt like hours, but somehow you fell asleep. Your name echoed through a storm while you watched the wolves tear into her flesh, helpless to keep your sister from the starving beasts.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

For a split second upon waking on the morning of the banquet, Buggy’s first thought hadn’t been panic for her absence, but a hum of pleasure at the warmth surrounding him. 

Guilt sent him flying into pieces to escape Crocodile and Mihawk’s arms, and they blinked up at him as though they’d forgotten her too. Buggy only relaxed when he saw the reality of the day harden their faces. 

Another day full of hushed voices, and waiting. Scribbled notes, and stifled comfort. Fear, and an unsteady hope that Shanks would be the hero again. 

~~~

“What’s this,” Buggy growled at the wide eyed, young pirate that had set down a bright blue cocktail on Y/N’s desk. He’d found himself sitting there tonight, updating the other men while the suitors were introduced, and he closed his eyes to stay focused on the muffled voices. 

The clown had started to panic earlier when his star was told to leave her locket behind, almost losing her because his gift didn’t fit the “theme.” She must have stuffed it into her dress from the way her heart thumped even louder within him, and he coughed to fight the heat in his throat.

I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.

“You like sweet drinks, don’t you?”

Buggy jolted, pretending that surprised squeak hadn’t just left his throat before he met Crocodile’s eyes across the room. 

“Y-yeah,” Buggy frowned, but he avoided the collection of garnishes and tiny umbrellas to take a sip from the curly straw. He found the taste of pineapple, coconuts, and sooo much sugar, covering up the rum that he most definitely needed. “Thanks.”

The scarred man raised a brow, and Mihawk’s soft chuckle from his own desk added to the shiver going up Buggy's spine.

They’re trying to distract me… 

“Thanks, daddy,” Buggy corrected, almost smiling at that frightening, but pleased face until her voice filled with hope.

‘Mr. Iceburg?’

“Mr. Iceburg,” he repeated while her heart went wild. 

“Iceburg,” Crocodile asked quietly, looking at his own notes. “From Galley La? He wasn’t on the list…”

“She knows him already,” Buggy reported. He tried to let it mean nothing. “She likes him.”

“Of course, Sylvad’s has had ties with Water 7 for generations,” Crocodile nodded, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“She may like him, but she loves you,” Mihawk startled him as he appeared beside her desk. “Don’t forget.”

“I’d never forget that,” Buggy snapped, sighing when wicked fingers teased over his tense shoulders, helping him focus.

He focused on her breath, her heart, while she met all the men vying to touch her, to take her. He focused on trying not to freak out the longer the night went on without hearing that familiar, heroic voice. Their best chance.

“Something’s wrong,” Buggy rasped, hardly hearing Crocodile's chair thump onto the new carpet over the deafening silence of his star forgetting to breathe. It seemed like her heart had stopped beating, until her uncle’s grating voice came through, and then it pounded like a bird smashing itself against a window to try to escape.

“The clothes suit you well, Emperor.”

“I had no idea that fashionable friends could be so generous,” Shanks charmed, his voice a miracle. “Or that I’d have the pleasure of meeting such a gorgeous, little bunny again so soon. Sorry, you're a gorgeous, little doe, aren’t you?”

“It’s Shanks,” Buggy shared, almost jealous of the relief that washed over their faces before he closed his eyes to the world again.

Shanks played the roguish pirate to perfection, and Buggy had no notes for his performance. Even muffled, Sylvad’s voice was clearly satisfied, eating up the Emperor’s words. 

“Red Hair made it? He’s a suitor?”

The soft questions ripped Buggy’s eyes open, and the relief he still saw there made him sick. 

“She hates him.”

“What do you–”

“Who does she–”

“She HATES SHANKS!” 

Buggy didn’t notice when he’d flown into pieces, but he floated erratically before them, trying to understand, trying to explain. 

“How… She didn’t say that out loud, did she,” Mihawk asked after a pause, studying his movements. 

“Why would she hate him,” Crocodile mused. His silver eyes stripped him down as he stepped too close.

“How the fuck would I know,” Buggy yelled, horror filling his veins at the way her heart seemed to fight itself in its cage. “This is how she sounds when she’s with Uncle ShitFuck, or that fucking doctor! She hates Shanks. She HATES HIM! What are we gonna do?”

“Shh, shh, darling,” Mihawk breathed, catching Buggy’s face in both hands while his body still flew through the air. “Y/N thought he was going to steal you from her. If she hasn’t forgiven him, then we’ll just have to find another way.”

“But she–”

Every floating piece of him stuttered in the air when cruel lips kissed his so sweetly. 

“I am long overdue for a hunting trip,” the swordsman teased over his skin, twisting those wicked fingers into his hair. “Having all three of us here is a waste. I’ll go thin out the competition.”

“No.”

The refusal was deep, yet gentle, and that scarred face towered over them both while Crocodile tugged at Mihawk’s chin. 

“We’re not doing that. We can’t go against her wishes, not until we know why she’s doing this.”

Buggy felt pain searing behind his eyes while he tried to listen to two things at once: Cedrick Sylvad’s speech, and the moral dilemma of these ex-Warlords.

“I agree,” Mihawk said evenly, barely sparing a glance while Buggy brought his body back together beside him. “But these men want our little rabbit, and her illustrious name for their own reasons. If it’s possible to convince the worst of them to drop out, then we should try.”

“Are you running away again,” Crocodile sighed, the pressure in the air making Buggy want to sink to the floor.  

“Don’t worry, daddy,” Mihawk purred, expertly slicing through all the tension in the room. “I have a spare earpiece snail, so you can scold me all you like while I’m away.” 

‘Did you hear me,’ Cedrick seemed to hiss at Buggy, swimming in guilt for falling into the distraction of the men before him. 

“Chase?”

“What is it,” Mihawk checked in, scanning his face. 

“No,” the clown paused, more endless horror pouring into him. He had to step away, the sounds of her panic while she raced through the woods sending him into helpless rage. The other men let him feel into it, until he rounded on them again. 

“They’re hunting her like an animal,” Buggy seethed, flinching at the sound of his star falling, panting, pushing herself on. “She’s terrified, she’s– Fuck this!”

A wave of sand hit the door before Crocodile blocked his path, only fueling that need to protect her. 

“Marines on call. Germa Kingdom. Big Mom Pirates. Fishman royalty. And we still don’t know what kind of security forces Sylvad keeps on the island, not to mention whatever the Concealer keeps around him, or the President of Galley La,” the larger man listed, his voice firm, but going soft when he touched Buggy’s cheek. “The second you hear our sweet girl ask for help, or say that she doesn’t wanna be there, I will drain them all to dust… but we still don’t know what he has on her. She told us she wanted to go.”

‘This isn’t a dream…’

In a trance, the clown let the other men lead him to that flashy, green couch, his notepad and fruity drink set up on the new coffee table while he slumped into her spot between them. 

“Shanks got her,” he reported, unable to share in their relief with the sound of her strangled breaths so loud in his head. He could barely hear a thing in her world now, the muffled voices beyond theirs were too difficult to make out, especially when another heartbeat filled his mind. His old friend must have been carrying her, and the sound of both of their hearts pounding so close made his gloves damp when he rubbed at his tired eyes.��

“Don’t worry,” Mihawk tugged at him gently until Buggy curled in against his exposed chest. The swordsman didn’t recoil from the faded paint, or the hot tears that streaked down his skin the longer the clown let himself stay there. “If our little rabbit doesn’t trust our hero, then we’ll just convince the rest of the suitors to give up the hunt.”

“Try not to start any wars, little prince,” Crocodile hummed, setting his massive hand over Mihawk’s where it was resting on Buggy’s thigh. 

“War is tedious. I am looking forward to a peaceful life,” Mihawk vowed, stroking Buggy’s hair while the man let exhaustion relax him deeper into his lap. “We just need to retrieve our lovers first.”

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Oh sweetie, you look so–”

“Take a bite.”

Mom’s too shiny smile hardened slightly before she tasted your oatmeal, avoiding the servants that hovered around you in clouds of makeup and hair spray. 

“You’re about to have brunch with your suitors,” she reminded you when you snatched the food from her, practically inhaling it before more pencils or brushes could touch your lips. “Don’t you think it will look strange if you don’t eat with them?”

“You don’t seem to care how strange it looks to sell off your own daughter,” you laughed, noticing a servant’s eyes widen just a fraction when they took your empty bowl. “I’m cooperating, but I will not be leaving my food or drinks unattended until I feel safer. You want your child to feel safe, don’t you, mother?”

“I found some,” Kat beamed when she barged through the door, waving a deck of playing cards above her head. She tossed it to you, and you gasped, surprised that you caught it from the air before it could hit one of the staff. Thankfully, the full skirted dress you’d been stuffed into this morning had pockets, so you tucked your little game away, forcing your mom to taste the rest of your breakfast before the brunch dates began.

But Kat was making that face. Little sister face. 

“What’s that,” you gestured toward the item she had tried to conceal when she sat across from you, tucking it behind her body.

“Just some trash I found in the hall. Do you want some more coffee?”

“Give it,” you ordered, giving her big sister face.

“It’s nothing we didn’t already know, okay? So just…”

“At least I’m not the only one being used,” a sharp laugh left your throat. “How much berry do you think he’s making off of this game?”

Mom ordered the staff to leave before leaning toward Kat, and didn’t whisper quietly enough on her way out.

“Brunch is about to start. Make sure she looks presentable.”

“Can’t sell me off if I'm not pretty, can you?”

“Y/N,” she started, looking convincingly hurt, but Kat got her out of the room before either of you could make it worse. 

You stared at the “trash” in your lap, the crisp scent of expensive ink and paper filling your lungs while you examined the brochure. 

‘Which Hunter Will Claim Her?’

That tantalizing question was scrawled across every page, while the nine suitors each had their own section, their profile, their face, and a stupid little quote about winning you. This barbaric game was disguised behind a snooty font spread over images of dappled sunlight through Sylvad trees, and decorated with arrows and leaves.

Cedar leaves.

You wanted to tear it to shreds, but you were pulled in, studying every detail.

~~~~~~

~~~~~~

Giberson

Age: Couldn’t Recall

Height: Misplaced Measurements

Birthday: August 14th

Title: “Warehouseman”

Favorite Food: Rye Whiskey

How he plans to win: “I’m sure the lovely lady and I will have a delightful time. You don’t get to be my age without learning a few tricks.”

~

Ichiji

Age: 21

Height: 186 cm (6'1")

Birthday: March 2

Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom

Favorite Food: Strawberries and Whiskey

How he plans to win: "I’m a Vinsmoke."

~

Niji

Age: 21

Height: 185 cm (6'1")

Birthday: March 2nd

Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom

Favorite Food: Blueberries and Scotch

How he plans to win: “She’s coming with us. If I don’t win, there’s two more Vinsmoke’s.”

~

Yonji

Age: 21

Height: 194 cm (6'4")

Birthday: March 2

Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom

Favorite Food: Green Peas

How he plans to win: “I wouldn’t mind ending up with a woman like her, so I’m gonna turn her into a princess.”

~

Iceburg

Age: 40

Height: 199 cm (6'6")

Birthday: January 3

Title: President of the Galley-La Company, and Mayor of Water 7

Favorite Food: Curry Made by an Old Friend. A Drunk, Old Friend.

How he plans to win: “Mm, well... I suppose I’ll win because I know her best.”

~

Fukaboshi

Age: 24

Height: 604 cm (19’10”)

Birthday: February 4th

Title: Prince of the Ryugu Kingdom

Favorite Food: Abalone Steak

How he plans to win: “I hope that she carries peace in her heart. If she does, I will stop at nothing to earn her love.”

~

Cracker

Age: 45

Height: 307 cm (10'1")

Birthday: February 28th

Title: Sweet Commander of the Big Mom Pirates, and the Minister of Biscuit

Favorite Food: Biscuits. Dislikes Kimchi and Carbonated Drinks.

How he plans to win: “Easy. I’ll outdo them all.”

~

Katakuri

Age: 48

Height: 509 cm (16'8½")

Birthday: November 25th

Title: Sweet Commander of the Big Mom Pirates, and the Minister of Flour

Favorite Food: Doughnuts. Dislikes hot ramen.

How he plans to win: “I will win because I must.”

~

Shanks

Age: 39

Height: 199 cm (6'6")

Birthday: March 9

Title: Emperor of the Sea

Favorite Food: Kimchi Fried Rice and Lobster. Dislikes Blueberries.

How he plans to win: “Just gonna show the cutie a good time.”

~~~~~~

‘Make Your Bets Now!’

Kat was right. You knew that the audience was enjoying the game, gambling while you just tried to survive, trying to secure the least abhorrent future that you could. 

“Venison…”

“Heeyyy,” Kat fumbled through positivity as she pulled the brochure from your white-knuckled grip. “At least we know how tall they are now!”

“I love you,” you thanked her, amazed that you could still laugh.

~~~

“Such pretty, little fingers… I hope I pass your test.”

“It’s not a test,” you lied, shuffling cards instead of tearing the old man’s eyes out. “Just a game.”

“It has to be the Queen of Hearts,” Giberson winked over his Bloody Mary.

“It’s the Four of Diamonds.”

“So you are choosing the next winner,” he scolded lightly when your prediction was revealed.

“How could I possibly choose when I have so many charming options,” you reminded him as you pushed the deck across the table so he could shuffle for himself. You weren’t ready to pick and choose between these hunters. There’d been no time to feel them out. 

So they had to guess.

The lighthearted brunch felt anything but with so many eyes on your skin, especially with Uncle’s giant projector snail that blew up your image across the building again. All the smaller snails circled around you, their slow, unreal eyes reminding you how trapped you were.

Always trapped.

“That’s alright, dear. Making decisions is tough, isn’t it? I’ve been hearing about what a smart girl you are though! So, what’s the card?”

The old man’s condescension was so typical, you were contemplating rooting for him, just so you could end up with a predictable partner.

“Jack of Hearts,” you smiled after counting down twenty two cards out loud, yet again.

“Whew, that sure is something,” Giberson waved the Jack of Hearts he’d revealed, making sure the rest of the guests could see while he bragged about you, as though your skills were somehow reflective of his own talents. 

As though he already owned you.

“You shuffled,” you teased, guiding him to set up the trick one more time. “Can you guess the card?”

“Queen of Hearts,” he winked again.

Gross. At least he might die soon, that’s a plus.

~~~

“You look beautiful this morning, Y/N,” the firstborn Vinsmoke brother purred when he took Giberson’s seat. 

Every moment was on full display for the other suitors, and for the guests that had stayed on the island for the entertainment. It seemed that the courtyard was to be your new realm, with plenty of space for your much taller dates to join you at your little breakfast table that was set up on a slightly elevated platform. 

A stage. 

“Thank you, Prince Ichigi. You’re looking quite well yourself.”  

Fuck.

It wasn’t a lie, and your pulse sped at the smug smile he gave when he tilted his head down to examine you over his dark, red glasses. 

There was something dangerous in that smile, and the fact that he didn’t even try to hide it made you pause, not sure how best to deal with this entitled prince.

“What does our lovely bride enjoy when she’s not being chased,” Ichiji purred, already claiming you with his words. His sunglasses did little to hide his eyes as they raked over your skin. 

“I enjoy numbers. Mathematics,” you almost squeaked. Heat rose up to your cheeks while you started to shuffle the cards, noticing the number “1” embroidered on his maroon cloak while you explained the goal of the card trick. 

“Seven of Clubs.”

“I’m sorry, Prince Ichiji, you’re wrong again.”

You had to risk a small sip from your untested water glass to fight the dryness on your tongue.

“That’s alright,” Ichiji teased, nodding at the sound of bells marking his time. “That’s why my family always brings numbers.”

“My turn, brother,” the blue haired prince announced as he clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Be nice to our little princess, Niji,” he ordered, pressing your knuckles to his lips before heading back toward the rest of his family. 

“Of course,” your new date smirked, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind that blue head of hair. 

The large spikes and swoops of his hairstyle covered one of his eyes under his gold sunglasses, hiding one of the eyebrows that you kept trying not to glance at. The three brothers shared an odd curl to the ends of their brows, You couldn’t tell if it was a cosmetic choice, but didn’t want to risk insulting such powerful men in case they were sensitive about it.

“Don’t tell me my brother already wore you out,” he clicked his tongue, snapping you out of your memories. 

“I’m so sorry, Prince Niji, I must still be tired from the banquet. What were you saying?”

“Fetch our little bride some coffee,” he snapped at the nearest servant, banging lightly on the table until the dishes rattled.

His harsh tone was almost enough to make you forget your precautions, but you had enough to worry about without the uncertainty of who prepared your drink.

That curly brow raised with satisfied surprise when you rested your hand over his, his lips parting while he ate up your act.

“Would you mind sharing your coffee, Prince Niji? I’d hate to waste any more of our time waiting to wake up.”

“What’s mine is yours, princess,” Niji purred. He caught your hand as you pulled away, and you let him hold it while you drank from his mug. His coffee was unbelievably sweet.

Stop. Don’t think about…

“Thank you,” you hummed, swallowing the heat in your throat while you tried to not to look at his blue hair with that practically syrupy coffee still on your tongue. “Will you help me with a little trick?”

~~~

“It’s up to you, little brother,” Niji reported when his time ran out. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve been watching these pretty hands,” Yonji assured him, kissing your fingers before he sat down. His dark eyes seemed fierce without colored glasses to hide them, and his green hair was slicked back instead of swooping up and out like his older brothers. He wasn’t hiding his interesting features.

“So you think you know the trick,” you challenged, giving him a chance. 

“I think I’ll win your heart,” he swooned, and the sappy look on his face made your hands fumble while you shuffled the deck. 

He focused intently now as you laid them out, and revealed certain cards, counting down to the guess. 

“What card is—“

“Three of Spades,” he blurted out. “What’s your guess?”

“Three of Clubs.”

“Again.”

The youngest prince refused your small talk, avoiding your gaze until his final guess.

“King of Hearts,” Yonji beamed, puppy dog eyes finally on your face again. “What’s your guess, princess?”

Would it be weird to marry Kat’s favorite?

You didn’t glance at your sister, but knew she’d be watching while the green haired prince scored the first point, hearts practically floating around his head when you revealed the card. 

“I told you, princess,” Yonji vowed as he stole a quick peck to your cheek. “I’ll be the one to win your heart.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~⚫~~~

The man that had won your heart beamed when he saw you gazing up at him. His blue hair seemed to glow in the sun, but nothing could gleam like those strong arms, slick with sweat while he climbed down the ropes to meet you on the deck of the ship.

“Oh my, look at you,” Iceburg hummed, tying a bandana over his hair to catch that salty water before it dripped down his face. You stared at those gorgeous, purple tattoos that crawled down his shoulders and arms before he patted the top of your head. “Where’s your dad hiding?”

“He had to take a call, but I helped him write this proposal, so he said I could bring it to you,” you squirmed, handing him the file.

“He’s got you working at thirteen,” he whistled, taking the document while he shook his head. 

“I’m fourteen now,” you declared. 

You couldn’t keep yourself from rolling onto your toes a bit, lifting your chin in hopeful challenge. 

“You’re gonna be running things soon, huh,” he smirked.

Mind going absolutely blank under his attention, you just gaped at him like a fucking creep.

“This ship’s almost finished.” Iceburg leaned close, knocking on the railing behind you. “Would you like a tour? It is your family’s wood that makes it so strong, after all.”

“I– Are you sure? I’ll be fine waiting if you need to get back to work. You don’t need to watch me.”

The desire to follow him around like a puppy was overpowered by the distaste at him feeling the need to babysit you, but the look on his face made you laugh, forgetting it all.

“I don’t wanna go back to work,” the handsome shipwright complained, scrunching up his face in a pout that rivaled your sister’s. “I’d rather show you around, and grab some lunch when your dad gets here. Can we?”

“Okay!”

~~~

This gorgeous, lovely man knew more about Sylvad wood than most of dad’s executives. Listening to him talk about it always made you happy, knowing that your family was part of something so important, so loved. 

Iceburg led you through the ship, telling you how he had worked each piece of lumber, how it all moved with the wind and the waves, even guiding you to slide your hand along the trees your family had grown, smooth and silky to the touch after he’d treated them. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” he praised softly, watching your hand against the wood before pulling a pen from his toolbelt. “Well, let’s go get some food, girlie. You can tell your dad what a great job you did presenting your proposal.”

“But you didn’t even read it,” you blurted out, shocked when he pressed the document against a wall to sign his name.

“You and Arbo are good people, plus you’ve got the best lumber in the world,” he laughed while he led you up the stairs toward the sound of footsteps. “I trust you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Iceburg… but you just agreed to build a small fleet to expand our shipping operations in the East Blue. Are you sure you’ll have time for that while you help Tom finish the sea train? Hi, daddy!”

“There’s my girl,” your dad grinned, kissing your temple when you joined him on the deck. “Make any deals without me?”

Iceburg handed the document over, waving his own copy in your direction. Your skin flushed with heat again when he snuck you a wink while your dad glanced at his signature. 

“She’s very convincing. You’ll be able to retire in no time if she keeps this up.”

He was the perfect man. Strong, kind, silly, sweet, and so painfully hot, it drove you mad. You’d had a few crushes on your classmates over the last couple of years, but nothing compared to the way you felt when Iceburg looked at you like that. 

“I don’t doubt it,” your dad praised. He wrapped his arm around the shipwright’s shoulders, nodding his head toward the docks. “Is Kokoro still making that delightful curry?”

“I’ll never let her stop,” Iceburg laughed while he led the way. “Tom should be over there too, let’s go grab some lunch and catch up.”

“Sounds perfect. Do you want to come, sweetheart?”

~~~⚫~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

He’s not who I thought he was. He’s a creep. Another leech trying to latch on and drain as much berry from me as he can. Don’t forget. 

You were pathetic, getting flustered while he watched your hands, his calm voice taking away all your caution. 

“I have to apologize,” Iceburg hummed while you shuffled.

“Why is that?”

“Mm, well,” he looked down at his striped jacket while he patted his pocket. “I left Tyrannosaurus with my secretary. I didn’t think bringing a pet would be… I should be more focused on you.”

“What do you— oh!”

The cards scattered across the table when you jumped, laughter sneaking out of you. 

“This is Velociraptor,” Iceburg announced as a field mouse crawled out of his breast pocket. “I found him during the chase, I hope it’s alright to have pets during our stay. Are you okay, Y/N?”

“I’m fine, sorry,” you recovered from losing yourself in that laughter before gathering the cards again. Your eyes were still watering when you watched the cute creature dive back into his pocket after a few soft pets from his strong fingers. “Can you guess the card?”

“Oh my,” his brows furrowed, watching your waiting hands. “I really need to pay attention, don’t I? I’d love to spend some more time with you.”

He leaned forward, his height making him tower over you at the little table, and you found yourself blinking up at him.

Forgetting.

“I…”

“Is it the Seven of Clubs?”

“No, Mr… No, Iceburg.”

~~~

Prince Fukaboshi was led through the courtyard by a few attendants, both fishmen and mermen featured amongst the group. He looked down at you, mouth opening to speak before Uncle’s voice carried over.

“Why don’t we give our hunter a closer look?”

Grabbing onto the edge of the table took all of your focus, and you knew that your fake smile fell when you started moving through the air. The ground flew away, the wooden platform beneath you rising up toward the prince, gentle surprise on his face.

The snails on the table didn’t seem phased by the change in elevation, and it was hard to pretend they didn’t exist while they slowly shifted positions to better capture you and your date for the audience below. 

You decided not to look down to determine what kind of contraption had lifted you so high, instead looking at the prince before you. Fukaboshi took up your entire field of vision, and it was easy to see the concern on his expansive face.

“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad?”

His teeth look so sharp…

“Please, Prince Fukaboshi,” you trembled, focusing on the cards as much as you could, “call me Y/N. Can you guess the— oh, I’m sorry, are you familiar with these sorts of playing cards?”

You were barely hanging on. He spoke, he guessed, and you could feel the rumble of his voice even though your mind wasn’t quite letting it in. Your body performed without you, your lips reciting words that carried no meaning. 

“This courtship custom is unlike any I have seen before,” the prince frowned while you set up the cards for the last guess. “Since it is all strange to me, I couldn’t be certain, but…”

The pause was long enough for you to meet his eyes, so large, and filled with what looked like compassion. 

No. 

“Miss Y/N, I am seeking your hand so that my people can gain protection and resources so that they never suffer the cruelty and humiliation of slavery again,” Fukaboshi declared. The snails on the table lowered their eyes, but his voice boomed too loud to hide. 

Bells. 

“That is—“

“I never want to see anyone treated the way my sister was by those monsters at the Reverie.”

“Monsters?”

The dangerous question barely made it past your lips before the platform jolted, slowly bringing you down, away from his determined face while the bells kept ringing. 

“Are you being held against your will? I cannot abide another moment of this if you are being used like a pet for their amusement.”

“N-no,” you panicked, craning your neck to see him while you shook your head, hands pleading, voice dripping with lies. “You are so kind, thank you, Prince Fukaboshi! I’m sorry, I must seem scared, but I’m just nervous. This is all a bit overwhelming, but I promise I am glad to be here!”

“Your turn’s over, Prince. You heard the girl.”

Cracker’s manic smile appeared as the table sank to the ground. It felt like your frantic heart had been left in the sky, floating up there with those huge, concerned eyes. 

“Thank you, Prince Fukaboshi,” you beamed, feeling forever selfish at the temptation. 

I can’t risk a stranger, a whole kingdom. I’m not worth it. 

Neither of us would make it out alive anyway. 

“It has been my honor,” he said evenly, though his eyes were scanning the crowd now, a new tension held within his enormous, warrior’s body. 

The snails woke up, those slow moving eyes reminding you that the show must go on.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry?” 

Cracker sat down, and the platform probably should have lifted a bit as the shirtless man was closer to your reality, but he was still even taller than… 

You had to stop comparing these men to your daydreams. 

“Eight of Diamonds… Damn,” he brushed off his loss before looming over you. His dark, brown glove was softer than you expected it to be when he cupped your cheek, almost the whole side of your face. 

“You understand family duties, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod under the wild look he gave you.

He’s fucking unstable.

“That’s good. Family is everything.”

Is he flirting? 

A dangerous giggle almost escaped, but you kept it in, smiling sweetly while he failed every guess.

The bells finally rang out, but they couldn’t save you from his last words, his promise.

“Our family needs you, Y/N. I don’t care if you’re my wife or my sister, I’ll protect you with my life.”

~~~

This time you were grateful for the moving platform, a reason to look away from Cracker’s confident face. The true reason for the movement came into view, his brother waiting patiently for you to settle just below his eye level. 

Those eyes… 

Charlotte Katakuri was too fucking tall. Too fucking scary. Crimson eyes assessed you, his arched brows and sharp nose not nearly harsh enough to distract from those thick, dark lashes of his.

He’s too fucking pretty.

Now that you were this close, you could see scars on both of his cheeks. They led down toward his mouth, still concealed by that massive scarf. Prince Fukaboshi’s sharp teeth came to mind when you wondered what he could be hiding, so you shuffled and shuffled, trying to think about anything else.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” his polite voice made you shiver, seeming to vibrate the elevated stage you were perched on. 

“Same to you, Katakuri,” your voice shook. You couldn’t afford to show this much fear. Predators always looked for weak prey. “Would you mind helping me with a little trick?”

“If that’s what you wish,” he agreed. There was no way to tell if the hint of a smile you heard in his voice was truly hidden beneath his scarf, but it set you on edge, nonetheless. 

“Can you guess the card?”

“It’s the Ten of Hearts.”

He stated it as if it were true, as if he were simply remarking on the weather around him.

And it was true. You’d known it before you revealed it, this simple math trick like the comforting rhythm of a familiar heartbeat. 

“You’re right,” you breathed when you turned it over. “Care to go again?”

Katakuri nodded slowly, but his eyes never left your face, ignoring the cards on the table until you asked for his next guess.

“The Queen of Hearts.”

“Yes. Have you seen this trick before?”

“In a way,” came his cryptic response. “Shall we go again?”

He definitely wasn’t paying attention to the cards. Those stunning eyes were so fucking intense as they bore into your skin that you almost forgot to do the math before you asked for his next guess.

Then you wished you had forgotten.

“What’s the–”

“Shuffle again.”

“But you haven’t–”

You stopped breathing when one of his giant hands shot toward you, his fingers sooo fucking big when he laid them over yours. 

Delicate. This giant was gentle when he covered your hands, covered the cards, practically covered half the little table.

“This card makes you sad,” he whispered, though there was no point with all the surveillance, and with his booming voice at the center of attention. But still, he whispered. “Why don’t you shuffle again?”

Fuck. fuckfuckfuck. Stop. 

There you go. Just smile. 

A small miracle let you slip out of your body, out of your mind, while you shuffled the unrevealed Six of Spades back into the deck. 

Katakuri was still quiet, still watching. So polite while he guessed the right card, letting you pull yourself back together.

Hiding all the struggle behind your Sylvad smile.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he touched your hand again when the platform started to lower. “I’m looking forward to our next meeting.”

You hadn’t noticed the bells.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

“When are you leaving?”

“There’s no point in waiting,” Mihawk avoided the larger man’s eyes. “The sooner I convince the competition to back out, the sooner Y/N will be free of them.”

“Yeah, but how,” Buggy sighed from his lap, the swordsman’s skilled fingers nearly dragging him down to sleep already. “How the fuck are you gonna convince these assholes that they don’t wanna marry her? She’s perfect! Plus, they get in on that stupid company, and get whatever other bullshit DickHole is selling. What can you do besides poke ‘em with your fancy stick?”

“That’s what I plan to find out,” Mihawk smiled, though the finality in his tone was enough.

“Come on, Buggy,” Crocodile nudged his legs aside, offering the clown his hand while he stared at their determined lover. “Let’s remind our little bird why he should fly back home when he’s done pecking people’s eyes out.”

Buggy let out an exhausted giggle while Mihawk shivered, his eyes rolling back just a bit. Just enough.

“You thought you could run away that easily, huh,” Crocodile threatened with his words, and with the tip of his hook below that sculpted chin.

More guilt almost tore the clown away while he watched them, but Buggy chugged his sugary drink, grateful for the quiet of faraway sleep. He started to pull the swordsman up by the collar of his frighteningly fancy jacket, and that arched brow was an instinctual warning.

The clown heeded the warning, loosening his grip on the jacket, only to yank the man off the couch by his hair. Crocodile joined in on his smug laughter, roughly pulling Mihawk against him before he’d stopped moaning from the unexpected pain.

“You’re not leaving tonight.”

Heavy. 

Whatever they held between them felt heavier than either had expected.

“I’ll go get the bed ready,” Buggy sighed as he half floated toward the door, “but I’ll need another drink if you guys take too long.”

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🐊🗡️🐊~~~

“Are you alright?”

Mihawk laughed at the question, and Crocodile wanted to shake him. He was sick of seeing his lovers fall apart right in front of him, with nothing he could do, or even understand.

He ached to understand this man. They had faced each other in battle just a few years ago, but that Summit War felt like a fever dream now.

Not that this new life didn't feel like a dream.

This man…

Crocodile kept getting him. Meeting him in ways that both surprised, and soothed him. 

Mihawk laughed again at the thought of new vocabulary, but Crocodile pulled him close.

“I’m not ready to lose my business partner,” Crocodile confessed, the words too heavy for the smirk he tried to give. 

The words were enough.

Mihawk laid his deadly fingers along that silk vest, silently asking for a kiss while he stared up at the taller man. 

The swordsman felt like a fraud. 

How could someone like him that had carried nothing for so long be filled with so much? He didn’t want to lie anymore than he already had. 

Crocodile gave him what he wanted. A heavy kiss.

“Let’s not keep our clown waiting,” Crocodile rasped, tracing his thumb along Mihawk’s sharp features. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

~~~🗡️🐊🗡️🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

They’re holding hands… 

Crocodile and Mihawk had called through the door, all of their hands occupied until Mihawk handed the slack-jawed clown another cocktail. 

“Nice room service,” Buggy tried to recover. 

“Come here, little clown.”

The scarred man let go of one lover to reach for another. Cupping his hand along Buggy’s jaw, with those large fingers combing into the hair at the back of his neck, Crocodile breathed down on him until he was nodding, red lips still parted.

“I haven’t been giving you enough attention,” Crocodile purred, squeezing his face lightly when Buggy tried to argue. “But it looks like we’re gonna have plenty of alone time soon. Plenty of time for me to spoil you.”

“Y-yup! Lots of…”

“Is that what you want?”

“Sure, whatever you say, bos— Yes, daddy.”

“Good boy.”

Buggy disconnected at the ankles to float up into Crocodile’s deep kiss. He nearly spilled his drink before the larger man lowered him down again, eyes dark and satisfied while he watched his clown. 

“You deserve more attention, but you handled him so well. Help me remind—“

“Let’s fuck him up, daddy!”

Buggy downed his drink with one hand while the other snuck past Crocodile’s body to wrap around Mihawk’s throat. 

“You do know that I’m still Dracule Mihawk, don’t you?”

Wicked fingers dug into the floating hand, dragging it down his own chest while he resisted. 

“Whatcha gonna do, Hawkeyes? Stab me? Slice me,” Buggy laughed, setting down his glass before sending his other hand. 

Crocodile started to undress, chuckling softly at his boys. 

The air shifted as danger, delicious danger, poured from the swordsman while he leaned into Buggy’s touch, forcing his floating hands closer to his own body with every taunting step.

“I’m going to play.”

Mihawk’s golden eyes seemed to flicker with his threat, and Buggy felt a flash of fear, a glimpse of a beast. In that moment, he almost gave in, almost let the beast win.

Wherever his burst of confidence came from, Buggy went with it.

“Why don’t you play with daddy’s balls then, huh, crybaby?”

One of the clown’s hands broke free from that hold, and Mihawk couldn’t fight the moan that tore through him when gloved fingers ripped into his hair again, forcing him to look at Crocodile. The larger man was so very large, stroking himself while he sat on the edge of the bed. 

Gods, that fucking cock.

Buggy took advantage of Mihawk’s wonderment by kicking the backs of his knees until he hit the floor, and wrapped himself around the swordsman’s back to leave lipstick-stained bites along his neck. 

“Don’t lie. You wanna get fucking wrecked, don’t you?”

“I don’t like liars,” Crocodile teased, circling his thumb over his tip, taking in a quick breath of satisfaction at the desperate look on Mihawk’s face at the sight. “Do you want us to wreck you, little prince?”

Mihawk melted as that lovely hook pressed into his throat. Buggy rubbed himself against his back, and the swordsman laughed, feeling entirely fucking spoiled. 

“Please, daddy.”

What a fucking sight… 

The scarred man still couldn’t understand how these lovely men were somehow his, not after everything he’d done, everything he’d felt before. Watching Mihawk beg so sweetly while Buggy stripped him made Crocodile’s cock so hard it almost hurt, his rough fingers easing up against that sensitive flesh, until wicked fingers, wicked lips, replaced his own grip. 

“Fuck. Such an evil little mouth you’ve got– Shit…”

Buggy realized his own mouth was hanging open as he undressed, but he couldn’t care to close it while he watched Mihawk swallow more than looked humanly possible.

“Help me out, Buggy,” Crocodile groaned while he gripped Mihawk’s hair, his hand bobbing up and down with that pretty face. “Stretch out our filthy prince for me. No way he’s leaving here before I ruin that perfect, little ass.”

Sloppy, muffled whines escaped him, and Mihawk’s eyes rolled at the daunting threat. Buggy was there, lubed, and ungloved fingers fucking into him until he shook with need, with pleasure. 

“Get over here,” Crocodile growled, stepping back to yank Mihawk toward the bed by the hook around his neck. Buggy helped him along, floating hands lifting that moaning form into place. 

Mihawk’s place was on his hands and knees in the center of the bed, and he lost himself there in the tender and vicious touches his lovers showered him with. In their praise and teasing, pleasure and pain. In the taste of Buggy’s skin as he shoved his cock down his throat. 

He absolutely fucking lost himself when Crocodile lined himself up. He was the world’s greatest swordsman, and he enjoyed pain a great deal. Yet his former enemy was about to pierce him so thoroughly that Mihawk whimpered around Buggy's length, almost afraid. 

Then he felt nothing but that heavy cock, stretching, and claiming, and filling him until tears streamed from his golden eyes.

“So good, so fucking good for me,” Crocodile grunted. He dragged his hook down Mihawk’s side, still not believing what he was seeing. 

Dracule fucking Mihawk, moaning around a clown’s cock while his pretty, little hole sucked him in again and again. 

“Let’s give our twisted prince what he wants, eh, Buggy? Make sure he remembers where he belongs.”

Buggy stuttered in agreement, nearly gone before he obeyed. He tore at Mihawk’s hair while his other hand scraped brutally down his back. The twitching that his rough hands caused forced his cock even deeper until he spilled his pleasure down that desperate throat.

Crocodile sliced his hook around the swordsman’s body, pouring red from that perfect chest while he stuffed his little prince full. The overwhelming sensations had Mihawk coming harder than he’d thought possible, and the sounds he made were unreal. Pathetic. 

Music to the ears of his sated lovers. 

The clown didn’t need to be ordered or asked, Buggy just helped Mihawk stay steady while they pulled out of him. So many praises showered them both while the swordsman just breathed, assessing his every, vicious ache. 

Crocodile hated to leave for even a moment, but he didn’t need to worry. Buggy’s hands had already flown to the bathroom to wash themselves, spilling a bit of soap on the counter before grabbing what he needed. When Crocodile returned from the shower, Buggy was still wiping the other man clean, humming while he trailed gently over that perfect skin. 

Mihawk’s skin was littered with scars of battle and lust, of trust, and he had just enough energy for a weak smile as Buggy’s fingers danced over them all. He moaned, twitching in those gentle arms while his lovers washed him in the shower, no way to recover this soon. 

“Don’t whine, crybaby,” Buggy mumbled, too focused on cleaning and bandaging his wounds while Mihawk melted into the burn. “We’ll slice you up some more when you get back.”

“He’s right,” Crocodile hummed. Seeing these lovely boys taking care of each other gripped something deep within his chest. Whatever it was sparked fear in him, so much so that he had to pause while they laid Mihawk on the fresh sheets between them. 

I can’t lose them. Can’t lose any of them. 

“We’ll be waiting, little bird,” he pressed a kiss to Mihawk’s temple. Contented, sleepy sounds filled the air, and he tried to trust that this lovely new world wasn’t about to end. “Fly back home, alright?”

He couldn’t shape words, but Mihawk hummed his promise before he drifted away.

Home…

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Morning, Y/N— well, afternoon by now, isn’t it?”

You shuffled just to have something to focus on while you simpered for him. 

The traitor. 

“Good afternoon, Shanks. I’m looking forward to our date this evening. Since you already won, I’m afraid you’re out of the running for the next date. We have to give everyone a chance, of course.”

“Of course.” 

You couldn’t fucking believe the charm that oozed off of him when he beamed at you. 

“I’d still like to try your little game though, if that’s alright, gorgeous?”

Shanks stayed quiet while you laid out the cards, some face up, some face down, before you counted down twenty two from the remaining deck. 

A comforting rhythm, the answer already dancing in your mind. 

“It’s the Eight of Clubs,” Shanks purred, touching the back of your hand. Lingering against your skin.

He looked so fucking smug. 

A sick stillness went through you before you revealed his answer. 

Of course, he knows this trick. He probably learned it before the first time he betrayed—

“Let’s go again,” Shanks ordered, the heat in his voice sending shivers across your shoulders, crawling up your neck. 

The eyes of his competition were on you, but the Emperor looked at you like you were already his. Like you were spread out before him, venison for the skilled hunter to devour. 

“Shuffle,” Shanks threatened, catching your chin in his dangerous fingers. 

Just smile. Just pretend.

“I’m not done playing with you yet, little bunny.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note:

Oh my goodness. Thank you so much for waiting, and for reading that giant chapter!! 🥰🙏🏼 I hope you enjoyed it, I've been going bonkers waiting to hear all your thoughts on this big ol' mess!

Let me know in the poll if you'd be interested in a separate post of my OP canon + Numbers Game canon timeline. It would give away reader's specific age, so I don't want to share it if people don't want to know!

Note on the Brochure: All of the character details included in the brochure are from Oda, except for the quotes and the missing details for Giberson. I found them on the One Piece Fandom Wiki if you’d like to go check out more about the characters' history. I live on that site, and have to give those fans the credit for compiling all those details! I already spend hours searching for specific parts in the anime for things like lines for speech patterns and such, I’d be lost without the wiki!

Note on the Card Trick: I must confess, I am not as skilled with numbers as our Numbers Girl. This is the same trick I had Buggy use during the flashback of their first night together, and I have no idea if this 15 year old youtube video is full of shit or not, but if you'd like to try it out, here's the tutorial!

Note on this line from the beginning of the chapter: "The White Stag. The hunted. The prey." Kiki Rockwell's voice has been living in my brain, and I realized this line is similar to hers in Burn Your Village "You do not dance everyday with the fear Of living in headlights, the hunted, the deer"

That song is so good, and fits so well! 🦌😭

Anyhoo, I'm off to try to catch up on all of your wonderful comments! Y'all mean the world to me, thank you so much!!! 🙏🏼💜

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97

Part 33

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[makethosenarratorsfight]

UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SIDE A

The Biologist Propaganda:

She tells the reader that her first hand account of events is scientific and impartial before revealing wayyyy after the fact that she has omitted her huge personal bias from her retelling of the events because she is fully aware that she's an unreliable narrator and is using that awareness to retroactively edit the story in her favour. Truly she's unlike any other protagonist I've ever encountered, its insane. Here's a tumblr text post that sums up everything: https://www.tumblr.com/12thbiologist/713885306846347264/annihilation-is-soooo-good-because-the-biologist?source=share

Yukio Okumura Propaganda (note; this is one submission, tumblr just has a word limit for blocks of text):

content warning for self destructive topics, murder, guns, body possession, suicide, mental illness, religion (?) (never directly mentions christianity), self hatred, dysfunctional family(??), self hatred. just a heads up, if you want to skip this you can. nothing in here is described seriously, its generally needed to understand basic plot points for this manga, so i didnt just include it for no reason!!! dont read this if it could harm you mentally!! its also just really long and kind of devolves into a plot summary near the end. his character explores moral greyness and utilizes his subsequent depressive states in a way thats really interesting to me. its pretty relevant that hes an unreliable narrator even in the early chapters of the manga. something interesting to me is that he's *not* the main character of the manga, so its set up in a way where the reader knows he's an unreliable narrator, but because he sets up a lot of the major exposition, the reader doesnt have a reason to believe him. i know it sounds kind of stupid, but its executed a lot better in the manga!!! its less about him actually *being* an unreliable narrator, and more about what it means for such a major character who introduces part of the plot, to be an unreliable narrator! he's the biological son of satan, but isnt a demon— (this is gonna be hard to explain but the demons in ao no exorcist are only called demons, they're easily equated to demons from abrahamic religions, but they mainly exist as a concept, they first have to develop an ego, and choose a body to possess. higher level demons arent able to possess a body because their power corrupts it and it rots away. satan only called himself satan because his college gf was in a christian cult, which is kind of funny to me because his son, lucifer, already did the whole satan motif. in the ao no exorcist universe, there is no 'god', satan is the ultimate being.)— unlike his maternal twin, rin, who has a demonic heart and ego. yukio is visibly similar to his mother, and is generally puts up a front as being more mature than rin. rin is essentially the direct opposite; he's almost identical to satan in looks and personality.

this definitely hurts yukio alot during the early chapters, because satan brutally murdered their adoptive father, but yukio is partially jealous of rin. he wishes he was as 'strong' as him, as rin had never shown any self hatred or suicidal ideation to yukio earlier on in the series. this eventually drives yukio to seek out lucifer. he convinces himself that lucifer isnt working for satan. he's an unreliable narrator even to *himself*. there's generally a pretty obvious parallel to lucifer with yukio: in the series, lucifer is depicted as wanting to be as 'strong' as his brother, mephisto. lucifer corrupts all of his vessels almost instantly. he's essentially stuck in a miserable cycle, not unlike yukio. we, as the reader, gradually see yukio spiral more and more. we see him lie to the reader and the other characters, until there's a surprising moment of clarity. we see yukio talk about how he mainly hates himself. we see him say this in front of *rin*! he essentially asks rin to kill him, beliving its the only way to escape assiah (earth, also has real world religious meaning). yukio cannot, presumably, be killed. he is essentially immortal during the storyline, which is why none of his suicide attempts have ever worked. this directly parallels lucifer not being able to escape gehenna (hell. this is also just hell in judaism). rin doesnt comply for pretty obvious reasons (not wanting to murder yukio), so yukio shoots him (dont worry rin's body heals almost immediately. no demons were harmed during this story) and rin goes on the journey of self discovery and comes back less mentslly ill (he also dyes his hair black) and talks to yukio. and uhhhh rin defeats satan and everyone clapped . then rin smashed in hatsune miku's face with his sword. i fhink thats blasphemy ? im really tired right now goodnight. tldr: yukio has mental illness and lies i lobe jim. i spent over an hour on this 😭

[geddy-leesbian]

hey look it's all my Serrennedy fic (note that I did not come up with tags for the AU's until making this post, meaning I have to go back to retroactively tag the posts I've made, which is going to take a while because tumblr's search is hot garbage.)

and also due to tumblr's search being garbage, searching my blog for my tags won't give you shit, but if you click to search all of tumblr instead, every post will show up. idk man, that's just how it is.

RE2 AU

started as a one-shot and then spiraled into a whole RE2 AU. the only thing I've written where things pretty much go right for them 💖 Leon isn't a government agent, Luis is a stay at home dad, and Claire and Luis lovingly bully Leon together.

tag: 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆.

How Do You Talk To Girls? (2/3 chapters posted)

❝Don Juan, eh? Always thought of myself as more of a Don Quixote, but if the shoe fits… How about we try some practice anyway? I can talk to you like I'd talk to a girl, give you a first-hand demonstration.❞ OR Leon tries to learn how to pick up women from Luis, and instead has a bisexual awakening and picks up Luis. Task Failed Successfully.

“��𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝑰𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒅” (unpublished WIP)

Claire and Luis are getting married.

Something A Little More Plain

Not in the same continuity as the other two fics, but it is an RE2 AU, so I'm putting it here. Just really soft Luis being a dad to twins content. The only thing I've written about them that is just fluff and no angst.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Signals // Childhood Friend AU

playlist

tag: 【𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙤.】

𝑇𝘩𝜀 𝛥𝜋𝛼𝑙𝜎𝑔 𝐾𝜄𝜕 (1988)

you move me, you move me. with your buildings and your eyes, autumn woods and winter skies. you call me, you call me.

»»————-💙————-««

somewhere out of a memory, of lighted streets on quiet nights… (1988)

»»————-💙————-««

ΠⴹⰞ Ⱎ⎕ᒥᒪᗪ ᎷᗅΠ (1988-2004)

he's old enough to know what’s right, but young enough not to choose it.

»»————-💙————-««

Digital Man // Open Secrets (2004) (1/? chapters posted)

Well I guess we all have these feelings we can’t leave unreconciled. Some of them burned on our ceilings, some of them learned as a child.

The things that we’re concealing will never let us grow. Time will do its healing, you’ve got to let it go.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

BU2B (aka Leon Fucking Dies)

(2/3 chapters posted)

❝That Agent Kennedy is proving to be quite a thorn in my side, much like you. I need him to live long enough for him to appreciate his gift and go home and begin to spread it to the rest of the world, but he's starting to cause a little too much trouble. But still, it would be a shame to have to kill him. Such a 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 it would be. If only there was some distraction to keep him occupied and out of trouble… You 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 him, don't you?❞ ❝This isn't about him. Say whatever you want about 𝘮𝘦, but keep 𝘩𝘪𝘴 name out of your mouth.❞ ❝But you'll want to hear this: He's quite fond of you too. He doesn't want to admit it, but I've been in his head. He likes it when you tease him. He 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘴 you. You could send him on wild goose chases over and over, and he'd just keep following you, until time ran out.❞

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 (𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆)

My very first Serrennedy fic,,, someday there will be a second chapter, but I have zero idea of when because I've been fighting demons tbh (by demons I mean various rough drafts because I can't figure out what the fuck to do with it. The ideas are there,,,,, but the execution is not 🫠)

Luis thinks he's a shitty person. Leon disagrees.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Other random stuff kicking around in my drafts (and feel free to ask about any of these because I love talking about them):

AU where Luis sabotages the Nemesis Project, gets caught, and sent to Rockfort Island.

Alfred Ashford notices that Luis was a child prodigy and thinks that's neat because he's a weirdo and Alexia was a child prodigy. So instead of being executed, Luis is forced to be his friend until Alexia wakes up from her cryo stasis thing. (And being his friend is not a good time, because he's a weirdo and threatens to get his sniper rifle and hunt down Luis for sport a lot.) Luis gets out when Claire does, and goes back to Valdelobos after to hide from Umbrella, meaning RE4 will still happen, although slightly different. Luis is much colder and very hesitant to help Leon, because trying to do the right thing previously got him sent to a concentration camp.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

DON'T WALK AWAY

Songfic. While Leon and Ashley are waiting on a helicopter to come pick them up post-RE4, Luis tries to quietly slip away, because he thinks he's a shitty person who doesn't deserve to have Leon. Leon notices him trying to leave and says fuck that and argues with him, insisting that he will come with Leon.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Don't have a title yet, but a little thing where Leon gets a call from Chris right after he gets back from Spain. Chris says the BSAA has been conducting their own investigation into what happened, and they found someone ex-Umbrella they had been trying to track down for years severely injured, but alive while searching the place, who claims to know Leon and that Leon would vouch that he's a good person now.

[tothelasthoursofmylife]

Sneaky fixes and little stuff I searched while writing

I made many, many messes writing WotQ. Some I corrected retroactively, e.g., Oscar was originally called "Chief Detective Superintendent Livingstone" in Captured although the title didn't exist yet when he was working at Scotland Yard.

In Chapter 1, I changed a sentence from "Cloudia put out her fan, which she had got by her cousin Constantia as a gift after she had visited Japan" to "Cloudia put out her fan, which she had got from her cousin Cathleen as a gift after she had received the opportunity to visit a small island in Japan". I sneakily fixed the grammar issue, the cousin (I honestly didn't even remember that I accidentally wrote Constantia instead until I looked up that sentence again... it was always supposed to be Cathleen), and included an explanation of how Cathleen could go to Japan during Sakoku (the small island is Dejima, the only place foreigners could visit; I mentioned that in the Freebird notes).

Most recently, I fixed this sentence from Captured while writing Destruction: "Say, Oscar, when was the last time we all have been here?" which, of course, does not make any sense because Cecelia is talking about the AoE gathering for the Hanged Men Case which was in London. They obviously wouldn't have come together at the manor then! (It's now "Say, Oscar, when was the last time we all have been together?")

Sometimes, I announce fixes if they're larger, but sometimes I just do it without a word... I updated the Ao3 version multiple times to fix small issues here and there. (I never fix up the chapters on tumblr, unless I catch an error right after posting. Like the stupid (but minor) Zucchini 2 mistake orz) For last year's anniversary, I rid myself of a set of sentences that have been bothering me for years in Frightening. Their removal did nothing but ease my mind. I also changed the wagon number in Ecstasy from Yvette and Jacques being four wagons ahead to five while puzzling out Locomotive Run.

I never do retroactive fixes that change up anything of consequence though, i.a. because that would be mean (how would anyone be able to figure anything out if everything kept changing retroactively? this isn't the One-Punch Man manga).

Other times, I cannot change a mistake retroactively because doing so would mean severe rewrites, e.g., the zucchini issue. Or, to add to the endless talk about trains, the corridor coach issue that began with Laughing Together, as I mentioned in the Ecstasy notes.

(As a background: I received The Wolves of Willoughby Chase when I was ten years old and reread it a lot in the following few years, but haven't done so in very long. It's a lovely book (Simon is an artist because of the Simon in that book! Though he wasn't named after him but after another fictional Simon.), and I was convinced the "only" changed historical aspect was the addition of wolves. Early on, a character takes a train with corridor coaches and gets told to "use the handbrake" if a stranger talks to her. If only I had bothered to open the book and check the author's note before writing Laughing Together all these years ago... You know, the author's note that starts with: "This book is set in a time of English history that has never existed - shortly after the coronation of Jacob III the Good in 1832." Well, at least that idiocy brought me Locomotive Run. (I've also since found out there's a whole trope about wrong train depictions. It's very common to get them wrong, apparently.))

It's ultimately all little stuff no one cares about but me. Apart from the one time, someone on FF.net told me that the Catholic Marcel could not possibly have children, no one has ever pointed anything out to me. He's a Protestant now, and I really wish I had just said Nicolette was his orphaned niece and not his daughter orz (Oh, and others pointed out the "verdadero" bit in Meeting the Queen, saying it was wrong - but that's their mistake, not mine.)

Anyway, all that has made me question myself a lot and I now google and check stuff more while writing. (That, of course, only reduces the amount of mess ups instead of completely eliminating them...)

Some stuff I can remember from the top of my head (and that I haven't mentioned in chapter notes yet; I did rather thorough ones lately, so there's not much else, I think):

"Now, at least, they weren’t packed like sardines in a can." (Locomotive Run) -> Were sardines canned in 1848? Yes, canned fish has been a thing since the late 18th century.

Parts of a train. (Locomotive Run) -> Looked up train vocabulary, particularly for the front bit where the driver is (the cab) and the most front "wagon" (that's the locomotive).

Parts of a church. (Malady 3) -> To be able to better describe their movement within the church. Nave, ambulatory, etc.

"down the rabbit hole" -> I remember that I wanted to use that idiom in Cloudia's POV while she was in the Witch's Castle, though cannot recall when/where exactly. I removed it because Alice in Wonderland came out in 1865, and that idiom didn't exist beforehand. (Cedric's POV includes "I fell into the rabbit hole to the Land of Sleep" in Travelling. He has Grim Reaper privileges, so it works here! I like having fun with his POV and including modern stuff, e.g. Merci Chocolate (existed since 1965) in Locomotive Run and Turnip Boy Commits Tax Evasion in Ecstasy.)

utility belt (Ecstasy, Locomotive Run) -> Milton has one of them. They came to be in the late 19th century (before, people did put stuff in their normal belts, but not in the Batman way, of course...) A very deliberate little anachronism on my side :) Just like...

radar technology (Destruction) -> No Overseas Watchdog Mission without some radar technology! This time dubiously provided by Milton. The history of radar didn't start until 1886 with Heinrich Hertz's experiments. (I actually looked up Ch97 of the manga again as a reference.) I just wrote whatever in the draft before looking up (more) accurate terminology. (You might have noticed that Cedric always calls the machine a "receiver" in his POV when Cloudia does not because of his GR privileges! Cloudia, however, does use display/screen because I couldn't think of a better word for her. Though I did reduce those instances a bit from draft to finished chapter.)

I once thought about doing a joke with Oscar putting on Tchaikovsky's July: Song of the Reaper when Cedric was around to mess with him. Unfortunately, it came out in 1876, so I can't do it. (Though Cedric could listen to it at some point!)

Another music-related joke that did not make it: When Kamden tells Cloudia that his latest crush's name is Elise in Affection, I wanted her to mention the Beethoven composition, "Für Elise". However, while it was composed in 1810, it was not published until 1867. I did write that bit though before removing it. I put it under the cut.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Only an hour,” he replied as they climbed the stairs. “And there weren’t many people here today. Only a couple and E…” Kamden cut himself off, and Cloudia didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing.

She grinned. “‘E’ is such a lovely, simplistic name, though I prefer Chalchiuhtlicue.”

He hesitated before he said, “Her name is Elise.”

“That’s a very pretty name too. Sharing a name with a Beethoven composition is wonderful, but it must be awfully annoying to always be reminded of it – even worse if you play an instrument,” said Cloudia. They reached the apartment and walked through the narrow corridor to the living room. “For the rest of your life, everyone will request the same song from you. If this wasn’t such a maddening affair, I guess more people would name their children ‘Appassionata’ or ‘Moonlight Sonata.’ Even the inconspicuous ‘Thérèse’ comes with eternal haunting.”

Cloudia sat down on a sofa, but Kamden remained by the door. “She was indeed named after the bagatelle,” he said sheepishly.

----

And another version where I elaborated on Chalchiuhtlicue instead before deciding to scrap that too:

“She’s left, and I closed the shop for today,” said Kamden, blissfully unaware of Cloudia’s thoughts, and only then did Cloudia notice that the shop had emptied.

“Isn’t it a bit early?” Cloudia asked and took his hand, letting herself be pulled through the row of shelves to the staircase in the back that led to Kamden’s flat above.

“Only an hour,” he replied as they climbed the stairs. “And there weren’t many people here today. Only a couple and E…” Kamden cut himself off, and Cloudia didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing.

She grinned. “‘E’ is such a lovely, simplistic name, though I prefer Chalchiuhtlicue.”

He hesitated before he said, “Her name is Elise.”

“Still a very beautiful name, but not comparable to the name of an Aztec goddess,” said Cloudia. They reached the apartment and walked through the narrow corridor to the living room where Cloudia promptly sat down on a sofa; Kamden remained by the door.

“Would you ever name a child after an Aztec deity?” Kamden asked.

“Why not? It’s not any different than naming children after Greek or Roman mythological figures,” Cloudia replied. “My own mother is a perfect example. And if someone cannot be bothered to try pronouncing ‘Chalchiuhtlicue’ or ‘Ītzpāpālōtl’ – or, for a boy, ‘Piltzintecuhtli’ – as correctly as they’re able to, I would not want them anywhere near my hypothetical children anyway.”

“You’re right,” Kamden said softly. “And ‘Chalchiuhtlicue’ is a pretty name,” he continued with a proud glint in his eyes.

“Though, I guess, to you, it’s not as pretty as ‘Elise.’” Cloudia teased, and Kamden’s face reddened.

[littleapocalypsekitten]

I don't know if I'm the only one who's noticed something or if it was always like this and I just didn't know because some of my stories were actually shorter than I thought... but I don't think so. Are there new limits how many characters / words can be posted in a tumblr-post? I'm not even talking about forgetting about readmore cuts, I use them for long posts, I'm talking about how it seemed like when I did writeblr posts, I could post entire short stories and one-shot fanfictions and fanfiction chapters under a readmore cut and be just fine, like things that were 5K characters or more, it all being cool because of the read more cut. And now, whenever I try to paste anything, I get hit with a character-limit. Did Tumblr shorten things? Is this a part of their push to try to become more like Twitter?! I looked in on my original writeblr blog to make sure that none of this was retroactive and that my stories were intact, and they seem to be, but lately, anything new I post - I've been trying to post fanfiction and this is severely limiting my one-shots, you know, things I used to have no problem posting here. I may just have to seek out something like Wordpress or buck up and pay a little domain fee for my own website or something eventually in order to put up my stories if I want them anywhere beyond Ao3 (and a place for my non-fandom stuff). Yeah, yeah, Grandma Swamp Hag Shadsie wants the new social media rules to get off her Internet-lawn, but I swear, our social medias are getting worse and worse every day. Why, I remember when you could view things on tumblr not logged in. Last a I checked, you do have to have an account and be logged in, which completely defeats the purpose of me sharing my stories to people outside the platform / using it as a nice place to put them (I am not trying to sell them. I write for fun and want people to read and maybe critique my stuff, or otherwise just enjoy it). This was what I'd originally signed up for tumblr for and it's gone now. And now the character-limits are tighter? And I can't even do the fandom-crap I stayed for effectively? I'm confused. I don't want the tumblr-gods to strike me down for complaining, I just want to know what's going on and what the new word-count limit is. I could treat the place like people treated Twitter and just do multiple posts to create a story / chapter, but I really don't want to do that. It really breaks the flow. I might have to use this place in writeblr mode only for the shortest of my short stuff from now on and find a new place for my longer short pieces. It's pretty aggravating and I want to know the purpose of the changes if, indeed, I'm noticing something that's actually new.

[tevantarlos]

Bad Things Happen Bingo

I just got my card for this challenge, which I'm doing for the first time. Complete 5 prompts to complete a row, or complete all 25 prompts to get a Blackout. Haven't decided how many prompts I'm going to fill, yet. But I hope to start working on prompts tomorrow night. This will be multifandom. I'll be writing for different fandoms per prompt.

Rules: ~ There is no word minimum. There is no word maximum.

~ You are allowed to cross-post works you wrote for this event on other platforms, such as AO3, FFN, etc., but we’d like you to also either post the fic on tumblr, or post a link to it, so we can find it.

~ Your entry must be completed before you can mark off its space on your bingo card. The exception is if you are writing a multi-chapter fic, but the chapter featuring the prompt must still be completed.

~ Your entry must be newly written for the bingo, not retroactively tagged or added on to a pre-existing fic.

~ Please indicate somewhere on the post or in the tags which fandom your fic was written for.

~ Feel free to message the blog if we missed reblogging a post you created for this event.

~ Only one prompt per post counts.

[catreginae]

Thou Shalt Not Fall: A Sad Tea Party

Warriors is confronted by three, worried friends. A couple notes here! a) this is part 2! Part 3 is going up tomorrow! If you haven't read part 1 though, I think you can manage without it. b) you get all of these updates because I promised I would upload two chapters this weekend if Warriors won the tumblr sexyman contest. I'm sure you know the result if the first of two updates this weekend. c) I changed Artemis to Athena because quirkle gave me the strength to. No, it's retroactive yet, but it starts here.

[Previous] - [Next]

View the Master Post here!

To the castle now?”

Warriors nodded. They've been in his era for a few days now and they've yet to find anything that warranted a band of experienced heroes. Sure, a few bokoblins here and there, but those battles turned into a competition with some of them trying to find the most surprising way to kill the bokoblins. So far, Wild was winning – he killed a couple with a mop. A mop. He knew Wild was good with a wide variety of weapons but damn, that was something else.

“If there's anything weird happening in Hyrule, Athena and General Impa would know. We should be there sometime tomorrow.”

Time nodded. He knew how it was.

“You looking forward to it, old man?” Twilight asked. “You know Athena and General Impa from the war, right?”

“I do miss Athena and Impa,” Time said with a smile. “I especially miss Proxi though.”

Warriors only hummed. Time would miss the one person who would let him get away with all of his crimes and even help him commit said crimes. He missed Proxi too, along with Athena and Impa, but he wasn't sure he could face any of them at the moment. Even plastering a fake smile for the others was hard and he was pretty sure that he wasn't fooling any of them, but they didn't ask.

He didn't miss the way Time looked at him with a frown when he failed to add anything to the conversation. It was difficult to talk to any of them when Warriors kept thinking about how he one day might tear one his brothers' throat out with his bare teeth. It was all too easy to imagine one of them laying on the ground, bleeding out from his neck, instead of the traitorous woman.

Maybe he should just stay at the castle and let the others leave without him. What right did he have to stay with any of them? They would just insist he come along despite the dangers he posed because they were too damn kind for their own good.

“Warriors?”

“Hmmm?” He wasn't even sure who was addressing him.

“Are you alright? You've been really quiet and out of it since you ate all of that hemlock. Are you sure it didn't do anything to you?” Wind asked with a pout.

“Ah, it's not the hemlock. It's something else, but I don't want to talk to about it.”

And those were the words that would get everybody off his back. If there was one thing they all held close to them, it was their thoughts and their secrets. There wasn't a whole lot you could keep to yourself when you travelled with a bunch of people but they had their thoughts and secrets – until those secrets blew up in their faces, of course. Until then though, they kept their secrets close to their hearts and nobody pried until they really felt it affected the group.

The rest of the day went with everybody leaving him be.

They reached the castle by late afternoon.

And that's when it all began.

A guard was assigned with guiding the others to their rooms for the evening while Impa and Proxi dragged Warriors away for a meeting with Athena. What kind of conversation would be just between the four of them? If it was about the monsters, shouldn't the rest of them be with him? Surely, Impa and Proxi recognized Time and Wind?

“Link!” Athena called out as they entered her study. She wrapped him a tight hug as Impa closed and locked the door behind him, then went as far as to close the windows as well, pulling the curtains across to darken the room. For a moment, the only source of light in the room came from Proxi and Athena's fireplace but thankfully, Impa was quick to light up some lanterns. Of course, the three of them would be considerate enough to close the curtains, but he really didn't need them to fret about him that much. He could handle indirect light, but he appreciated the thought nonetheless. “I've been so worried about you.”

“I've missed you too. I write when I can but I never know when the letters will arrive when I'm in another timeline.”

“It's not the letters I'm worried about. Please, have a seat.”

He almost didn't because it made him nervous, but she was his superior so he did as he was told. At the table, her guest table where she discussed reports with him sometimes, there was a steaming teapot and several cups. It made him wonder if she was expecting him.

“Tea? It's still warm.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled. She filled one of the glasses and he took it, bringing to his lips for a sip. It was unexpectedly fruity.

“We had a report of a strange murder from a town we know you frequent,” Impa started. He felt the blood drain from his face. Of course, the messengers were quick on their feet in peacetime and not when he needed them to be quick during the war. “Stabbed through the heart with a stake but the guards who reported it suspect it was the heavy trauma to the neck that killed the victim. Although I did not go see the body, the descriptions led me to believe it was the work of a vampire, and the stake was to prevent the victim from becoming a vampire themselves. Care to explain yourself, Captain?”

“She was a traitor,” he mumbled quietly, barely loud enough for him to hear over his roaring heart. He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth, trying to calm himself. He never expected the murder to get back to the castle. He really should have hid the body. He thought it was good enough to just make sure the other Links never found out. “She tried to poison me and my companions with hemlock. I'm very aware of how it tastes at this point. I wouldn't care if it was just me but she put eight other people in danger and most of them had nothing to do with the war.”

“I'm not concerned so much with the reasoning, Link. I know you don't kill unless your life or the life of somebody you care about is threatened. It's a decision you don't take lightly. I understand that part,” Athena said quietly, putting one of her hands on top of his own. Warriors almost pulled away in case she was preparing to kill him with her magic. It was the first time he found himself afraid of her, afraid of what she would do now that she knew what he did. “But what happened? Why did you use your powers to do it?”

“I...” He clenched his free hand tightly into a fist. His cup of tea went ignored.

“Link, please, we're just worried,” Proxi said. “You never talk about the vampire stuff. It can't be good for you to bottle it all up.”

“What is there to even say about it? Nobody's found a way to get rid of the curse and nobody knows how to help me. We can talk about it all we want, it wouldn't do anything.”

“Link-” Athena started but all his frustration was starting to bubble over and when he was frustrated, he started rambling.

“I wish I could tell you what happened, Zelda, but I really can't. I was going to drink her blood anyway because I wasn't going to let her get away with trying to hurt innocent people and suddenly, I'm just covered in blood! I don't fucking remember tearing her throat out, I just know that I did. I didn't want to go that far! I just have this... fucking blank in my memory and there's absolutely nothing that can be done because I'm just some monster that everybody pities! Hylians can't help because they don't know what it's like and vampires can't help me because I'm just different enough that they don't understand what it's like either. I don't even know why I keep trying!”

He didn't realize he was crying until the tears splattered onto his pants. Proxi nuzzled his cheek.

“I don't belong anywhere, Zelda, I really don't. I thought I fit in with the other heroes but if I kill one of them too? What if I can't remember doing it?”

“Link,” Impa started. “All of the people you came to the castle with know you're a vampire, correct?”

Link nodded weakly, trying in vain to quell the tears in his eyes, to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. All he managed to do was silence the sobbing though. He couldn't fight the tears, apparently.

“Then trust your companions to help you. You may have been brought together to fight a common foe, but you should take any opportunity to learn from new people and new environments. If you're not comfortable with us, then trust them. Surely, nine minds are better than one.”

“Most of them rely on me for all their vampires facts.”

“Maybe that's what you need – people who don't know,” Athena said simply. “A fresh perspective might help. You need to tell them what's on your mind though. They can't help if you don't let them help, if you don't tell them what's going on.”

What if he did tell them that he was scared of hurting them and they finally rejected him? What if they did what he wanted them to do – to be careful around him, to be wary of what he could do – and decide that the risks outweighed any benefits he brought to the group? Warriors wasn't sure he could handle it. He viewed them all as brothers. He let himself get attached to all of them. The rejection, even if it was the best for them, would hurt. It would hurt a lot.

“I don't know,” he mumbled.

“I know you have a hard time accepting help sometimes, but you need to put your head in the game and stop feeling sorry for yourself. How can you work in a group if you have such concerns and can't bring them up?”

Warriors had a couple of responses but he bit his tongue.

“Impa, that's enough.”

Impa hummed but otherwise stayed silent. Warriors took the moment to try to collect himself as Athena took both of his hands into hers.

“Link, no matter what, we're here for you. You're always welcomed here. We just want to help if you will let us.”

For a moment, he didn't know what to say, so he raised his teacup again and downed half the cup. It wasn't the way he liked to drink tea, he preferred to take his time with it, but he was desperate to just do something other than cry. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” It sounded basic, but he meant it. It wasn't like he had any other home to miss. “What of the body? Does Lady Elena know about what I did?”

“We haven't spoken but I suspect she's aware. However, the general population doesn't suspect a vampire so you're safe in the regard. They suspect a monster, so Lady Elena won't try to murder you, I'm sure,” Impa answered. “Although it's unusual for a monster to go for the throat like that, it's not entirely unheard of. It only screams vampire to whoever is already aware of the existence of vampires.”

Well, they weren't wrong about that. It was a monster. As if she read his mind, Impa pinched his ear and twisted. He hissed and swatted at her hand.

“Stop it. We're not here just let you wallow in self-pity.”

Athena cleared her throat. “Lady Elena might want to have words with you, so I would advise that you head to the manor next if possible. In the very least, she might know something about how to prevent something like this in the future. Of course, you and your companions are welcomed to stay here for a few days to rest and collect your thoughts.”

“The real reason why we're here is for any suspicious monster reports.”

“How about we talk about that tomorrow?”

“But Zelda-”

“Seriously, finish your tea, and get some rest. If not for you, at least for the rest of them, got it? I'm not going to let you fight monsters when you're so troubled.”

He supposed she had a point, so he downed the rest of the cup and put it on the table. If it was one of his soldiers in his spot, he wouldn't put them in a battle because distracted soldiers were bound to get themselves or somebody else hurt. If a fight broke out now, he wouldn't be able to focus on it and that could be disastrous.

“Okay, tomorrow.”

“Good. Go get some rest or take a walk, alright?”

With that, he and Athena hugged it out again and he took his leave. Proxi followed him out of the room, nestling herself in his scarf as he walked towards his room. He wasn't sure where the others where placed, exactly, but he had his own room regardless.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I know. I know you always have my back,” Link said softly.

He knew the others did too. He just... wished he could be honest with them.

[stetersecretsanta2024]

2021 Steter Secret Santa Sign-Ups

The sign-up form for Steter Secret Santa 2021 is now open and will close at 11:59 PM ET on Monday, November 1st (what time is that for me?). Assignments will go out no later than November 6th. All deadlines will be at 11:59 PM Eastern Time (ET). Posting will take place on December 21st. Please read the FAQ and rules for instructions and information you need to know before signing up.

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[alovelyburn]

Rambles about Berserk Deluxe Volume 1 (aka V1-3) - Part 1

OKAY WELL OBVIOUSLY NO ONE WILL REMEMBER ME, but whatever, if you’re here you’re about to start getting flooded with Berserk meta again because I am rereading the series and I started doing it on Twitter but holy crap what a nightmare that is. 

Things to note: 

-I like Griffith, if that’s a problem for you then I... I don’t care, have fun with that, I don’t know. -I barely remember how Tumblr works -Honestly a lot of this is probably just going to be me talking about things I already talked about years ago but realtalk I don’t read my own old meta so like, I have no idea what i said back in the day. 

So without further ado, 

Rambles about Berserk Deluxe Volume 1 (aka V1-3)

1. I remember back in my Berserk fandom days there was a disagreement between fans on whether the Black Swordsman arc was necessary at all and whether it should have been situated after the golden age instead of having the golden age arrive as this prolonged flashback. 

The argument was  generally that the Black Swordsman arc spoils the end of the Golden Age, which it DOES but... to me that's skewing the importance a bit, right like the Golden Age is a flashback, the whole point of the entire arc is to explain what's happening in the main story which is  everything *except* the Golden Age. For various reasons the GA is the most famous/popular part and obviously the most adapted part so it does change the way people might see this since so many people come into the manga through one of the animes that really only touched on the Hawks era, but it doesnt change the fact that, in the manga, the Golden Age is literally just a long flashback, so you're *supposed* to know how it ends. 

I also think the Black Swordsman arc provides some necessary context for understanding what happens in the GA, especially re: Griffith's mindset since Griffith  himself doesn't talk much about his thoughts or feelings which has made him rather easy to misinterpret... which is actually what drove me out of Berserk fandom and into JoJo's back in the day because I literally could not stomach another argument about whether Griffith is a sociopath (no).

2. Also, the scene with Guts in the snake duke guy's dungeon (and just his early relationship with Puck in general) is pretty interesting when you consider the much later revelation about his history with the flower elf. Obviously that was almost certainly not something Miura knew  he would add when writing it, but as retroactive logic it does work very well - last time he left an elf get attached to him she ended up killing herself so you know, why do it again?

It really continues into his early attitude with Puck in general, even in the later chapters until he gets used to having the guy around.

3.  Going into the priest-and-daughter chapter (The Brand), it's interesting to see how much of Griffith's stupid Promrose speech he's still carrying around with him.

Priest: My nephew became a mercenary and died 

Guts: WELL THAT WAS HIS DREAM RIGHT, I MEAN HE DID WHAT HE WANTED NO MATTER WHAT, SO WHAT HE DIED ITS FINE, WE’RE FINE.

4. He’s also inherited Griffith’s nasty habit of swallowing his guilt by pretending he’s actually totally cool with people dying because of him. I remember back in the day people used to say Guts comes off as a psychopath or a villain type early on, and I kind of get it, but I do think it’s fairly obvious from the beginning that he’s bullshitting himself. And then of course that becomes VERY evident after his encounter with the slug count and Theresia.

4. In an old interview Miura had mentioned that Casca’s presence post-Eclipse, really the reason she survived the Eclipse to begin with, was to prevent Guts from dissociating form the Eclipse and letting the memory go dull. That does make sense to the writer in me, but the reader in me is like, how could he forget, the eclipse never really stopped happening for him. hes still being attacked everywhere he goes. 

I actually kind of miss the horrible effect of the brand.

5. This has nothing to do with the story but if I’m paying 50 bucks for a huge deluxe edition of Berserk, I feel like I should have gotten the colored pages in color. Just saying!

6. I really just... love Guts so much? His wildness especially in those early days, his apparent fearlessness which is actually just a pretense since per Puck he’s actually afraid basically all the time AND WHO WOULDN’T BE? 

7. I know this gets said a lot but Guts’ sword is obviously used metaphorically a LOT, I mean if I keep doing these things (why,...) it will just come up over and over again, him and his heap of raw iron. But also all his other swords.

8. One of the things I really deeply love about Guts is watching him fight. I could watch the battle scenes in the OVAs forever, and the thing I love about it, aside from watching this person who is in so many ways unsure of himself and his value and his relationships suddenly become absolutely sure and confident and just transform into a force of nature. I bring this up here because I reached the part in the slug count story where Guts reveals the depth of his skill with a sword and its one of my favorite moments in the Black Swordsman arc. 

9. Guts and his rage at people being nice to him.

10. So one of the things Miura did a lot is... this kind of sequence where you get a visual parallel and often text about someone else that is meant to clue the reader in on what’s going on with a different character entirely. This is the first of them - where we start to understand what happened with Guts through this comparison with Vargas, who was mutilated and lost his loved ones to monsters - the specifics of the mutilation are even direct parallels to Guts’ wounds from the Eclipse. In some cases this storytelling technique is very difficult for me to interpret and analyze because I’m not an especially visual person? But I do make an effort to pay attention to it because it’s done a LOT and in some cases those parallels are the only way you ever have a situation or emotion directly addressed (eg. the King and Griffith in the dungeon, which is just the King and Griffith talking about the King in a way that we’re meant to understand applies to Griffith but yeah anyway that’s several volumes in the future). 

Also the ENTIRE final confrontation with the Slug Count is literally 75% this exact storytelling technique so its not surprising to me that the first use is a parallel between Guts and Vargas, particularly with the later parallels between the Count and Fermto/Griffith.

11. And there he goes again, covering his pain and guilt and self-hatred with rage and disdain. Genuinely one of the things that frustrates me about Western Berserk fandom is the stubborn inability to perceive the nuance in Griffith’s character yes, but also in Guts’s character. He is so often perceived as just the metal badass on a vengeance quest because he hates Griffith so much and hes actually a pretty complicated person with extremely complicated relationships with himself and Casca and Griffith and so much of it is literally just stated outright that I have no fucking idea how people miss it, it is the weirdest thing I have ever encountered in any fandom ever and I don’t understand why it happens. Anyway.

12. So, the obvious interpretation for this scene would be that he’s thinking about the ever ambitious Hawk who ended up self-destructing... but I actually think he’s talking about himself. He’s shitting on himself for having dared to imagine that he could step out of Griffith’s shadow and do something that made him Griffith’s equal and, in the process, ended up abandoning the people he loved in a way that led to Griffith turning into a demon and Casca being raped and going mad, killed his surrogate family and got him permanently maimed. 

Now let me be clear, I don’t think it’s his fault. But I think he thinks it’s his fault because he aimed too high and accidentally broke Griffith. Which, I mean, he is aware that he’s the one who did that by this point.

And that is why, even though he identifies with Vargas, even though he is frustrated and pained by Vargas’s situation, he also holds Vargas in contempt. Because he sees himself in Vargas, and he hates himself.

...

It’s 3am, I’m gonna stop now. Bai!

[iron-parkr]

Hi, y'all.

Not sure if anyone'll see this or if anyone cares tbh. That's not me trying to get pity points or anything, I just know I've been gone for a hot second. I didn't mean to disappear for so long. This little hiatus was very much unplanned and unintentional but is not permanent. I'll explain under the cut.

You don't have to read all of this but long story short, the last couple of months have been A Lot.

Content warning up ahead for vague mental health stuff, animal death, medical stuff, broken bones, and religion (if anyone needs a warning for that)

I originally probably stepped away from Tumblr for a minute by accident because I got overwhelmed by the March OC Bingo stuff on top of my school stuff and whatnot. I'm hoping to maybe retroactively fill my Bingo card, but I honestly can't make any promises. The next few weeks are really busy, but I'll get to that in a second.

A big reason I accidentally pulled away is that my family had to make the incredibly difficult decision to put my dog to sleep in April. We'd had my dog for about 11 years and he literally felt like a third brother to me. Saying goodbye to him was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I was incredibly lucky that I was away at school and surrounded by friends on the actual day it happened, but I won't lie, it was fucking awful. My mental health was absolute shit. I got extra lucky that day because I was on a spiritual retreat that weekend and it helped guide me toward rekindling my relationship with God, which brought me a lot of peace exactly when I needed it. I'm by no means religious, even after the retreat, and I would never ever try to shove my nebulous beliefs down anyone's throat, but I personally have begun to find comfort in God again after years of struggling with faith in the wake of religious scandals and difficulties with organized religion, and I attribute that with keeping me sane after that weekend.

Reason #2: A little under two weeks ago, I had a little accident and ended up fracturing a bone in my foot and spraining my ankle (on the same leg). I was on crutches for a few days, but luckily I'm able to put weight on it in a boot, so I'm more mobile now. Overall, it's been genuinely one of the most frustrating things I've ever experienced. Not only are the broken foot and sprained ankle physically painful beyond belief, but it's just mentally and emotionally draining because I'm the type of person who hates having to ask for help and I've had to force myself to suck it up and ask for help so many times. I have no idea how long I have to wear the boot, and there's a chance I might need to do physical therapy after I'm cleared to take the boot off, it's all kind of up in the air.

Reason #3 is a bit more exciting - I'm graduating college! I finished my last semester of classes and exams this week and tomorrow (Saturday) I'll be graduating from my university summa cum laude with a 4.0 GPA in both semesters of my senior year (hopefully, still waiting on a couple grades but it's looking good) and making the Dean's List all 8 semesters of undergrad. So, yeah, the last few weeks have been hectic with senior events, finishing up classes, and getting ready for graduation. It honestly still doesn't feel real. When I was 15, in high school, I swore up and down I wasn't going to go to college because the future seemed so overwhelming and terrifying, and now I'm only a few hours away from graduating. It's just... absolutely insane and I can only hope 15 y/o me would be proud of 22 y/o me.

Even though I haven't been posting or creating any edits on Tumblr, I've continued to write this whole time. I created an OC for Dragon Ball Z because it's my current hyperfixation and I'm currently working on the first draft of her second chapter. I've also been spending a lot of time on Kate Winchester, my Supernatural OC, rewriting the chapters I'd previously written and outlining a roadmap for the portion of the story that takes place before Supernatural begins. And I finally started looking at and working on Maggie Stark's next chapter, which feels really good considering I have a better idea of how to connect the cliffhanger from Chapter 5 (which was unplanned, surprisingly enough) to the plan/roadmap I already had. As an aside, I have a feeling that I'll also end up semi-hyperfixated on HP and Aquila, Liza, and Gracie once I get down to Florida and visit HP World at Universal Studios, so that's another fun thing to keep an eye out for.

I'm hoping to ease back into posting here on Tumblr, but I can't guarantee that I'll have pretty edits and gifsets out the wazoo. The next month or so is hectic but really exciting. I'm home next week, then I'll be in Spain and Rome on a pilgrimage trip until the beginning of June. After I come home, it'll be prep time because I'm supposed to start my Disney College Program at Disney World in mid-June. The broken foot may throw a wrench in those plans, which is a definite worry, but I won't know for sure until I see the doctor next week.

All that to say, I'm sorry for disappearing. You know life, it kinda sucks sometimes. And if you made it this far, thanks for reading and caring. But I'm hoping once I'm finished with school, and then once I get settled into life as a Disney World cast member, I'll be able to be more present on here <3

[lemony-snickers]

changes are a-comin'...

hey, y’all.  there’s a few new things happening here at the blog, so i thought i should give you a heads up.

1. migration of nsfw content.

recently, one of my followers admitted to me they were underage. while i really appreciate that person’s honesty, i'd be lying if i said it didn't make me a little uncomfortable.

as a result, i've been reevaluating how i'm going to approach posting 18+ content to my blog.

i've decided that in future, all nsfw content will be hosted on my ao3 account only.  don’t worry!  i’ll still be posting here with summaries and warnings and links to the full stories. (i'll also be retroactively doing this for previously posted works, but that may be a slow process because i've written a lot of nonsense, lol.)

i know this means you’ll have to click out of tumblr in order to read the full content, and i’m sorry about that. i also totally understand if it means you’d rather not interact with/follow me anymore. no hard feelings if that's the case! <3

this is just something that’s gonna make me feel more comfortable personally moving forward. if you have questions about it, pls feel free to shoot me an ask!

2.  sexy swap saturdays!

this is (hopefully?) a more fun announcement. after the mix and match event and given that i have a few random requests sitting in my inbox for characters other than kakashi, i've been trying to think of a way to incorporate other characters into the blog without losing the thread. and so, i'd like to introduce (drum roll, pls)... Sexy Swap Saturdays! every other week, i'll post a fic for a character other than kakashi on saturday! if you wanna see me write for other characters, now there will be a designated time for that to happen. yay! (maybe?)

our first sexy swap saturday will take place on july 31st (updated because i learned how to read a calendar 😂) and will features everyone's favorite kohai, mr. yams himself. <3

3. 🍋 mix and match

i've got 23 requests to go and i am working on them, promise! i'll be posting these with links to ao3 moving forward if they are nsfw (which most of them are, lol). eventually, all of the one-shots will be aggregated into a single ao3 fiction, with each fic as an individual chapter.

i hope you've been enjoying the fics so far and that you like the ones to come. i really appreciate that so many of you were willing to participate in this funny lil' thing with me. <3

anyway. that's all. i hope you all had a wonderful weekend filled with love & laughter & plenty of rest. <3 <3 <3

[nobody-knose--archive]

now i think i can guess what you’re thinking. “fog, what the hell is a cojum who?? what is content warning with a question mark supposed to mean? since when have these ocs had these names?” that last question is oddly specific, but i will thank you for hypothetically asking these things, because i love giving hypothetical answers.

cojum who? is an original series of mine that could possibly be considered doctor who fanfiction. i don’t consider it that. it’s set (loosely) in the doctor who universe, with many key setting elements used, and so while background knowledge on dw is highly useful, i don’t actually use any specific characters or stories from the series proper- it’s wholly original. with a caveat. that being, characters & their respective stories are heavily inspired by the music (& other content) of tally hall. i do this with my ocs quite a bit.

thus far, in each of the three main chapters, i’ve introduced one companion to the main doctor figure per chapter. the first also includes a couple of other characters, both of which don’t fit the bill of primary character(s) but are still important. there’s meant to be one more chapter that introduces one more companion, then another that does a good deal with the characters established (because, really, a main cast of 5-7 is kinda too large)

five chapters, though, is a real damn low amount of content, especially for me & my bigass writing plans. i’ve already released two side stories for this thing already, what makes you think i won’t release more? (though one of the side stories is really non-canonized, if you want an impression of how much this series has changed in all the time it’s been since i released anything for it). i have a solid few stories that are almost or completely written already, just not published due to a. containing characters or plot elements not yet introduced in the main chapters (i refuse to spoil my own stories) or b. not being typed up (i write a lot physically).

now: if you want to both a. read everything for this story i’ve published & b. learn a miscellaneous thing or two about the characters, come check out the cojum who? tag on my blog. bear in mind though, that a lot of it is old or undetailed, and that these characters have come a very, very long time since they were invented/when i talked about them most on my blog. that all seems to indicate that asking me questions about my characters would be a good idea, doesn’t it?

oh also for the last part of that hypothetical series of questions: i came up with these names for the ocs around mid-november because i felt like it, mainly. i’ve retroactively made their names in most published material to match up with their current names, but that doesn’t effect, like, reblogged tumblr posts. a few of the main characters have profiles on my toyhouse account, but those are left deliberately simplistic, & that account as a whole is incomplete, so unfortunately it can’t be a very comprehensive resource.

[lordjohngreyreadingnook]

New Event: Lord John AU Bingo!

Happy March, Friends!

Your curators are pleased to announce our next event: the Lord John AU Bingo! Who doesn’t love a good AU? This event is open to writers and artists alike with two ways to play. 

Here’s the important information:

Posting/reblogging runs from 15 March - 15 May 2021

Tag @lordjohngreyreadingnook​ during the posting period so we can be sure to reblog your work!

Works must be new for the event, though multi-chapter stories do not necessarily have to be complete, just never-before-posted

Send us an off-anon ask for a mini bingo card (with no penalties) or participate the ultra-casual route with no card, or both!

All stories/art must feature Lord John as a main character

All ships (or no ships!) are welcome

Any AU goes! Bring us your coffee shop AUs, your space adventures, your cowboys, semi-/modern military, tattoo artists, rock stars, creature fics, crossovers, fusions, the sky is the limit!

The only works not permitted are RPF and “canon-verse” (either canon compliant or canon divergent). 

What about that bingo thing?

You can start requesting cards now through the end of the event

Bingo cards are 3x3

There is no penalty for not completing a card, but bragging rights (and more exposure) if you get a bingo

Send an ask (off anon please) to @lordjohngreyreadingnook​. Please make sure you let us know what username you’d like on your card.

You may request one remake if you just hate your card (please let us know what AUs you want us to avoid and we will try to accommodate)

As before, we have more info on the Events page (if you’re on desktop), below the cut, and also on the (totally optional) AO3 Collection.

We’ll post more info about the collection and how to make sure your work gets reblogged by the Reading Nook as we get closer to the Ides of March.

Event Rules:

All entries must feature Lord John Grey (he should be the main/focal character)

Stories/art should be NEW for the event (for NEW multi-chapter fics, only the first chapter of at least 500 words is required to be counted)

All entries must be set in an alternate universe (fusions and crossovers are permitted; canon divergence is not)

Minimum word count is 500 (there is no maximum)

RPF is not permitted for this event

Triggers and ships should be properly tagged

Frequently Asked Questions:

How do I get a bingo card? >Send an ask (off anon) to Lord John Grey Reading Nook. Please include any AUs you absolutely do NOT want and we will try to accommodate you. We will answer these asks privately with your card as an image.

I got my card but I kinda hate it. Can I get a remake? >Yes, we will replace your card one time. Send an ask off anon to Lord John Grey Reading Nook. Please make sure you tell us the problematic square(s) and any other AUs you definitely don't want.

Does my piece of fic or art need to be new? >Yes. However, a completed first chapter of a WIP or multi-chapter fic is sufficient for this event. In other words, if you start a (new) multi-chapter for this event, you do not have to finish it before 15 May, just the first chapter. However, a WIP you have already started posting will not retroactively count. Can I double up with another event? For example, can I check off an AU bingo square and an Outlander Bingo square for the same story? >As long as the other event rules permit this, yes. In this specific case, the Outlander Bingo does permit combining with other events. So yes, this is allowed.

What rating or ship dynamics are allowed? >Any! G-E; M/M, Gen, Multi, M/F, F/F. As long as Lord John is at the center of it and it's center in an alternate universe, go for it. Do I have to register anywhere? >Not necessarily. If you'd like to take the super casual route, you're welcome to submit any AU fic/art featuring Lord John to the collection (optional) and/or tag the Lord John Grey Reading Nook on tumblr to be included in the final rec list. >If you would like a bingo card, yes (sort of). Please send an ask (off anon) to the Lord John Grey Reading Nook on Tumblr to request a card. Please tell us any AUs that you absolutely do not want on your card and we will accommodate you as best as we can.

Can I participate with both a bingo and on the super casual route? >Absolutely! The more fics and art, the merrier!

Is there a word count requirement? >The minimum is 500 words, but there is no (serious) maximum.

Can I mix art and fic? >Absolutely! As long as it meets the requirements, mix and match to your heart's content!

Any content restrictions or requirements? >Lord John must be a/the main character and it must be an Alternate Universe (for our purposes this excludes canon divergence). That’s it! Please be courteous to your readers and appropriately tag your fic/art, especially with potentially triggering content.

What's the difference between canon divergent, alternate universe, fusion, and crossover? And which of these are permitted? >Canon divergent is a story that mostly fits into canon, but changes one or more things (diverges from the timeline). Fix-its fics, some "missing moments," or generally stories set in the canon universe even if they don't fit neatly in the source material. For this event, these are the only ones that are excluded. >Alternate Universe (AU) are works that take your characters and plop them in another universe. So, Lord John is a cop in 1963, or a soldier in 1945, or Prince Charming in a fairy tale. >Fusion is more or less recasting one work with characters from another. So Jurassic Park, but instead of Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum's character) you have Dr. Grey, with his new paleontologist friend Dr. Fraser (Grant) and the paleobotanist Dr. Beauchamp (Ellie Sattler). All the Jurassic Park characters are now Outlander characters. ...Actually this is a good idea, someone please write this. >A crossover is when worlds collide. For example, John Grey and Jim Kirk are classmates at Starfleet Academy. >The key is to change the universe that Lord John is in.

Can I post early or late? >Please post any time during the event period (15 March - 15 May) for the maximum exposure. Posting in this window ensures that we reblog you on Tumblr and that the (optional) AO3 collection is open for you. Can I promo my own post? >Certainly! We will load up the queue, possibly with some duplicates depending on participation. Please just tag @LordJohnGreyReadingNook one time, however.

Are there prizes for bingos and blacked-out cards? >Not exactly. Bragging rights, and more exposure on the @lordjohngreyreadingnook​ Are there penalties for not completing a bingo card? >Nope, not at all!

Can I get a bingo card and also do the casual route (in other words, do I have to stick to just the card or can I post extra AUs too?) >You can do both! You can get a bingo card, fill as many of those prompts as you want, and also post AU stories that meet the event criteria.

If I post to the AO3 collection, do I retain ownership of my fic? >Yes. We will only reblog your Tumblr posts or link to your work. We will never repost without your permission. That said, the AO3 collection is 100% optional.

[a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan]

Linked Universe Fanfic Update!

Hey all! I have a couple major announcements for my Linked Universe fanfiction! Much like Jojo, I never intended for this to become a proper overarching narrative, so I accidentally never gave my story a title. So I came up with one. Allow me to introduce:

Oops! All Links: A Linked Universe Story

Next up is a big one: I made an AO3! You can find me HERE under the screen name FrancisDuFresne. I'll be posting the entirety of Oops! All Links there: the 17 chapters I have on Tumblr so far, then beyond, as well as the standalone "Fright." From now on, I'll be uploading new chapters on AO3 and announcing them on this blog. Expect an upload every Monday at 12:00pm EST, for at least a month. Chapter 18: "Mind the Tea" will go live next Monday, 3/22/21!

When I add older chapters to AO3, you'll notice some significant differences from the original Tumblr posts. I'll go into those changes and my reasoning behind them under the cut. As always, I'll see you in the notes!

After two years of writing what is now Oops! All Links, I've realized that Tumblr is actually kind of a terrible medium for posting prose. I try to proofread before posting, but sometimes I make whoopsies and need to edit the text retroactively. The problem is, the moment one of you lovely people reblogs a chapter, I lose complete control over the text. Any edit I make will create alternate versions and I can never be sure if someone reads an outdated version or the current, fixed version.

This is entirely my fault, not any reader's. Don't let this make you hesitate to reblog my writing. Please reblog my work if you are so inclined, I always appreciate it more than you may realize it. But this is still a problem, especially when I make big mistakes.

I don't know if you noticed, but there is a massive plot hole early on regarding how the Links react to discovering each other's powers. Chapter 1 has 38 reblogs as of writing this, so it is impossible for me to completely fix it on Tumblr. AO3 is the logical solution to that problem.

I am making significant edits to these earlier chapters to prevent that plot hole, fix some minor inconsistencies, and also rework dialogue where it makes more sense for some Links to call each other nicknames than their titles. For example, they call Time "old man" more, Warriors "Captain" more, etc.

I'm also renaming the Link from Hyrule Warriors to fit in line with the vast majority of other creators' LU content. Now my entire fic will refer to him as "Warriors" instead of "Warrior." I've decided that it probably isn't worth fixing the original Tumblr posts with those edits, so the changes will only appear on the AO3 versions.

The older chapters will go up on AO3 as I finish editing each of them. The process will speed up as I go, especially after the Fire arc. It still may take a while because I'm lowkey drowning in college work. Learning from home is a bitch, haha, this past year has been just peachy.

I'm also now co-coordinator of my Sunrise Movement hub, so that takes up some of my time and mental/emotional bandwidth. I'm trying to prioritize school and Sunrise over Tumblr, but sometimes ADHD brain gets the best of me. However it happens, I'll keep posting and being a part of this wonderful community. I love you all and have a fantastic rest of your day!

[hopeymchope]

hey, sorry to barge into your inbox despite being a total stranger (and feel free to respond to this privately if you want) but i came across some of your s/n/k critical posts and i just wanted to say i agree SO much. and i wanted to thank you for vocalizing this opinion because i know both i and some others agree with you. i've personally felt that everything after chapter 80 was a mistake (because i thought the whole serum fight over erwin vs armin was pretty fuckin stupid too) and it's kinda funny (i guess) to see the ending 100% validate my opinion completely. i can't believe every character was done this dirty for the sake of a very poorly constructed "both sides are bad" scenario that was also in VERY poor taste considering the explicit allegories to n*zi germany and a literal race war. like what's up with the jews - sorry, the "eldians" - once ruling the entire world via a bloodthirsty empire and also being inhuman creatures? gee, that sure doesn't sound like every antisemitic conspiracy theory i've ever heard. and way to rationalize oppression, too. the entire point of an oppression narrative is supposed to be "hey, the oppressor's prejudices have no rational basis and are literally mistreating this oppressed group due to their own selfishness and cruelty," not "oh btw marley's fear/hatred of eldians kinda makes sense considering eldians once enslaved the entire planet and can turn into giant man-eating monsters." is*yama SERIOUSLY should've just stuck to writing glorified vore lmao.

and while all the characters were either killed, turned into plot devices, or both, it hurts that EMA and the main protag himself suffered this treatment as well. i still think pre-timeskip eren is utterly irreconciliable with post-timeskip eren and the fact that both fans and the author himself try to make it seem like "hey he was ALWAYS a batshit crazy psychopath from the start!" is sort of pathetic to watch. like yeah, lemme just ignore the first 80 chapters of character development for this guy. or lemme pretend that the author didn't spend the significant majority of the decade making eren the most empathetic character in the entire series. or let me also pretend that eren killing those human traffickers to save a 9 year old girl from being a child sex slave is somehow evidence/foreshadowing/etc of him eventually growing up to destroy 80% of the planet. like, what? not to mention he even rebuked himself for recklessly killing those two men like that in chapter 17...so am i supposed to ignore that too?? and don't even get me started on the "eren went insane and accidentally caused his mom's death." bro. BRO. i've watched the entirety of game of thrones yet i STILL have never seen this level of "edgy plot twist for shock value with no benefit or relevance to the story whatsoever" in any media to exist.

well anyway...sorry for ranting in your inbox like this LMAO i really just wanted to tell you that i agree with your opinions about both the series ending and the series as a whole. i doubt i'll ever engage with this cursed manga ever again but at least pre-chapter 80 s/n/k will always be a thing and i can pretend they all got reincarnated into a modern AU where eren and mikasa are happily married and living with their bff armin in a nice condo or something. they alternate between visiting carla and grisha or mikasa's family on weekends. yeah that sounds pretty good. if you made it this far then kudos to you and thank you for reading lol

Thanks a ton for the kind words of commiseration. It feels like there’s a plurality of people who are unhappy, sure... but it comes off as still being a minority, and even among that minority, it seems like most people are still fine with most of the timeskip so long as they stuck the landing. But I think they were much too far off-course pretty fast after the Timeskip started to really correct it very well. It was possible, but the writing was on the wall. The intentions were already clear pretty early on after the skip. 

That said, I try to keep this Tumblr mostly positive and DR-focused, yet I still absolutely had to rant about SNK 139. The more I thought about it, the more I disliked it... and this comes from someone who was already unhappy for a while, obviously, so. Yeah. Of course I was gonna dislike it on some level, but I thought it’d at least provide closure to the Timeskip arc, even if I do think the Timeskip arc feels at odds with everything else the series was for 3/4 of its run.

And HOLY SHIT I literally forgot about the Eldians’ history of apparently being horrible, vicious rulers of a sinister empire. You know why? Because I NEVER BELIEVED IT. I was so 100% certain that it was going to be outed as bullshit propaganda from Marley that I never once thought it was plausible, so I just... pushed it out of my mind as soon as I read it. After all, all that kind of talk about the arch-conspiracy of Jews has always been total bullshit from anti-semetic monsters, so why would I put any stock in this kind of talk being applied to the Jewish race of Attack on Titan? 

But now, at the end of the story... yup, I guess he never DID go back on that! So it was fucking true?! The Jewish people in this WWII analogy were apparently an evil master race at one point?! Oh. OHHHHH. Go fuck yourself with a shovel for that one, Isayama. 

And yeah, Eren... god, what a sad story. He becomes unrecognizable as the same character thanks to the Timeskip, the new characterization is never explained or justified retroactively - it’s just opposite day now, forever - and he dies accomplishing nothing. I don’t know what to say, except I do know how much I loved that character and this series before things went south. I didn’t even mind the backstory for the Titans and the horrible story of Eldians in Marley... because it seemed so obvious that it was setting up a battle against a hateful, technologically advanced foe that was beyond the darkness of anything they’d fought before, y’know? Marley, as it was set up in the flashbacks before the Timeskip, is Nazi Germany if the Nazis had tech and scientific horrors and numbers far beyond what the Allies had. And nobody EVER feels bad for killing Nazis, so this was obviously going to be a final battle to destroy the Marleyan military, with Zeke likely to serve as a Final Boss who has totally 100% bought the propaganda and who hated everything Eren stood for. It was all RIGHT THERE. Maybe it was just too easy to tell that story, because instead, Zeke is suddenly supposed to be a gray character (very hard to accept given his backstory), and we end with the “uwu both sides were bad bc war is hell” message that is really pretty fucked up, as you already correctly pointed out.