#not sure if it was only because of that sword's dance though.

[tired-needs-sleep]

i didn't plan on falling asleep, but it happened and i had a crazy dream again. i usually don't remember dreams very frequently but 2 in like a week's span is crazy in itself. anyway....

the setting is a place similar to blackstepple castle, a dark-colored castle that was very obvious was old. one event or another caused me, who happened to be sara this dream but for simplicity i'll just say kisaragi's name because i didn't exactly feel like me in the dream

they're with some friends and somehow they get captured. they're taken to the castle, and i don't actually think it was super far away. the terrain didn't change much, actually. it was all snowy. anyway, sara is thrown into a cell and faints, but a voice swirls around their head: don't know exactly what the full thing was but it ended with "you were destined to rule this castle." that's the last thing i remember in that part.

kisaragi's friends, who i didn't recognize from anywhere, found this odd pit with dark energy that they could interact with. it was in a cave but the area it was in had a hole in the roof to the surface. they messed around with this pit, and found that sara could somehow communicate with those friends through some means on the other side. don't know how because the dream never fully explainedz but what i did see was sara on the other side was in the bottom of the pit and could see silhouettes of those three friends, but if they tried to touch them they found it was just an illusion. but the voices were from the real friends and they even dropped some food down into the pit and it got to sara. yet i was aware this pit wasn't like a regular hole you know? like a portal that acted and looked like it wasn't one

at some point sara is trying to escape. unsure if there's anyone helping them but there's 3 different major guardians of this castle. and each had their own boss battle arena. sara got through two before they ran into the final one, a dragon. think it had four legs and wings and was dark colored too, but not the same as the castle wall color. like a navy blue color. anyway they try to go and escape through the door but it's locked, they get caught by this dragon, and are thrown back into their cell. again that voice says that they are destined to rule the castle, and she faints.

skipping over some time because i don't remember what happens between then and the second time sara and friends communicate again, they give them food and plan a second attempt to escape. once the meeting is over sara tries to touch one of their friends, but the portal's illusion ripples when they brush their fingers through. again, that voice speaks, repeats that they are destined to rule that castle, and instead of passing out, sara leaves and breaks through the prison cells, then releases the others in captivity after taking care of the guard. things get wild, prisoners are angry and vengeful against the guards with how they treated the captives. sara takes this distraction and bolts, some of the other captives also follow them. they easily cut through the first and second boss fight guardians, and for some reason or another, sara is the only one willing to actually fight the dragon. despite loosing the first time.

so they fight. sara does a little sword's dance and dodges the first attack. they manage to climb onto it's back, probably trying to reach the weak spot on the back of it's neck- like that's a hard place to reach on a cat or dog so i guess that's based in some form of logic. but then this dragon flies up, and flings sara into the air. that did.. almost nothing though. they use pursuit and catch up to the dragon, speed up it's back, and night slash. dragon screeches, and crashes down. it's a rough landing but they're alright.

i wish i could tell you what happened next, but i woke up around now. i remember seeing the dragon just laying there, but kisaragi was looking at it with shock. rightfully so, that was a wild battle, huh?

cool storyline even without some details that would've been helpful lmao. i just think medieval rpgs are cool and it's one of my favorite type of games

[redheadspark]

Divine

Summary - Azriel and his mate find each other again during alone time

Warnings - SMUT! SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Although a bit mild, there is smut in this, no minors allowed from here on out!

A/N - This is part of the Ocean Eyes Series. A little smut piece for Azriel and the Reader to enjoy together! I hope you like it!

"I don't like how quiet it is,"

"I knew you were going to miss him as soon as we dropped him off with Cassian and Nesta,"

"I wasn't going to say anything and ruin the mood,"

Azriel barked a laugh, walking over to the fireplace to feed fresh logs into the fire, across from the loveseat where you were already sitting. Watching Azriel feed the fire and let the flame rise a bit, bringing warmth into your little home, made you relax all the more as the early evening was getting darker outside. 

Both you and Azriel had the evening to yourself, Alec having a sleepover at The House of Wind with his Uncle Cassian, Aunt Nesta, and Cousin Rose. Rose was big enough for Alec to play with her, thinking she was so fun to run around with and play with for hours on end. Cassian reassured you and Azriel that Alec would have the best time with his relatives, promising to teach him how to sword fight and do flips in the air with his wings.

The latter Azriel shot down real quick, but he was happy to let his son go for the night,

Plus, you can tell Azriel wanted to have some time with you and only you. Since you finally healed all the way through from being near close to death, you were simply trying to go back to a normal life. Though normalcy was not going to be in your life anytime soon because of recent events: Eris was still on the run with no leads as to where he was, Autumn Court's alliance with Night Court was shaky because of Eris. 

With all of this happening, you were worried about Azriel. No one told you, but you caught onto the fact that Azriel had a personal target on Eris. He was too strung out, too tight in his backside and his stance, and there was no sign of him being relaxed anytime soon. You understood why, but you also didn't wish for him to be wound tight like a tot.  Even feeling the bond and how he was not even relaxed for one moment. Stiff, a bit rigid, and you hoped you could find a way to get him to relax and unwind. 

Maybe it was perfect timing that you two were alone at your home.

Azriel stood back up, looking at his handiwork in the fireplace and the roaring fire that was now active. You stayed in your spot on the loveseat, your head slightly cocked to the side as you were looking at your mate with adoration and love in your eyes. For the last week and a few days, Azriel nursed you back to health and made sure all of your needs were met. Applying the ointment to your wound, delivering your food to the bed you were resting in, traveling back and forth between the River House and your cottage to get you books and some of your cross stitching when he noticed you were getting bored. Mor joked that he was becoming more of a wet nurse than a Spymaster. Azriel never cared, he was more focused on helping you get back to health and making sure you were 100% better. 

With a nasty sliver of a scare along your wing, you finally were able to leave River House behind and head home. But even when you did make it home and were given permission to be mobile, thanks to Madja, Azriel still was on edge. Rightfully so, you couldn't tell him to calm down because the threat that almost killed you was still out there somewhere in Prythian.  You weren't simply wanting Azriel to go back to the leisurely being he was before, but you wanted that light back in him.

"You're quite good at that, my love," You teased, seeing that smile on his face and the reflection of the fire dancing along his cheeks and nose. He looked back at you, his silhouette against the orange tint of the fire would look daunting to others. But not to you, not when he was walking back over to you and lowered himself on the loveseat to be shoulder to shoulder with you. His wings touched yours, making him look over at your wigs that were tucked against your backside.  Reachingup, he grazed his finger along the scar that was still fresh. You shivered from the touch, your wing was a pinch more sensitive thanks to the scar.

"It's healing well," Azriel stated, his voice calm as he was looking at the wing with intrigue. You weren't paying attention to your wing and its sensitivity, you were focusing on your mate. Watching his hazel eyes dancing along your wing, the smoothness of his cheeks after a recent shave, even the soft smile he had made you feel at peace. 

"Thanks to Madja, and you," You replied, Azriel's fingers that were hovering over your scars moved away from your wing swiftly. He moved his hand over to rest in his lap, though you were faster, and took his hand in yours to cradle it. Azrielwatched, you simply lacing the fingers together and smiling at him. Maybe it moved him a bit, seeing how relaxed and calm you were with him since you both were alone. You had plenty of things to say to him but had no idea where to start. Azriel must have sensed your quietness, he looked at you in concern as he squeezed your fingers together.

"Sweetheart?" He asked tentatively, he was searching your face as you were looking down at your joined hands. You are overwhelmed in that moment, being able to be back home at your home, healthy, and able to share this moment with your husband and mate. It made you want to cry, but something was holding you back from bringing on tears. Azriel reached over with his spare hand, placing a finger under your chin to gently raise your gaze to him. All you could do was smile, Azriel was about to say something else when you finally spoke.

"I'm happy," You explained to him as he was searching your eyes. You might have sounded odd to say that since you were on the verge of crying, but Azriel said nothing and simply watched you as you kept talking, "I'm happy that I'm here, and I have you to thank,"

Your voice sounded broken, yet you were smiling as if nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong, you were in good health and you had your family with you. Maybe you were thinking back to that moment when you woke up in River House, in insane pain, and Azriel perched over you like a guardian angel of sorts. 

Even with the pain, the near close to death, seeing Azriel gaze at you with so much devotion and love in his eyes was enough to bring you back again. You thought for a split second in the bed that you were in a dream, or that you died and were now in some kind of afterlife with Azriel waiting for you. 

But he did more than that, he brought you back to reality. 

Azriel gently grazed your cheek with a singular finger, catching the one tear that was about to spill over, and smiled lovingly at you, "You never have to thank me for loving you with all of me,"

He made it seem so light, so simple, even freeing. He rarely expressed his feelings to others, even with you though you two have been together for centuries. It was the very simple moments that were sprinkled with love and gentleness, youloved those moments since they showed an intimate side of Azriel that he rarely brought into light. 

"There was nothing in all of Prythian that would stop me from having you in my life, sweetheart," He explained, thefinger that traced your cheek was now curling around your jaw, his palm against your jawline and the touch alone was a shocking sensation to you as he searched your eyes with his soft smile and his bright eyes, "I've told you this before and I mean it when I say it: You make my life so much better. I can't picture going on in this life without you in it,"

It moved you to hear that from him, even though you've heard it say many times from him during your long span of a relationship and courtship. Even back when you two met so long ago as teenagers, fresh in your adoration and love for one another, Azriel poured out his love for you and was willing to give you his heart. He did, to which you took it delicately in your own hands and swore to never break.

You haven't broken it yet, hundreds of years and a son later.

You leaned up and kissed him, starting it soft and sweet as he leaned into your touch. His fingers still against your jawwere delicate for you to feel while he kissed you back and snuggled a bit closer to him.  Something about kissing Azriel in that moment, alone in your small living room away from the rest of the world, made you feel a like of fire in your belly.You knew this feeling, you've felt it so many times before in the throws of intimacy and passion. 

But this time, it felt so slow and like a crawling passion.  Nothing rushed the pair of you as the kisses continued, your fingers both digging into his hair and the soft shirt that he decided to wear that night. His own hands and fingers were moving as well, the hand along your jaw was still gentle but was holding you in a possessive manner.  His other hand was slowly inching up along your arm, sending you shivers and chills that you felt all along your skin and even under it as well.

It felt like you were young again, young and pent up with these losing feelings for one another as the kisses were slowly evolving and growing. Azriel never strayed in his affection towards you, his body curled over to you while you two were getting impossibly close and still kissing one another. Now it was passionate, that fire in your belly was only growing stronger as you felt Azriel trace your lower lip with his tongue.  Barely a graze along your lip with the very tip of his tongue.

You whimpered, moving without realizing it and you were now straddling him.

Something inside the both of you clicked open, like a tight chest that was locked down for so long and now finally free. Azriel tilts his head up to kiss you soundly and wrap his arms around you softly. Your fingers were in his hair, tugging at him slightly as your head tilted to the side to feel him kiss you deeply. Nothing else was in your mind as Azriel was touching you, kissing you, making you feel so whole and alive again. Even after being with him for centuries and with a very healthy sex life, this time it felt different. It felt deep, It felt complete.

It felt alive. 

His fingers were now under your shirt, pushing up your shirt to be under your armpits to give you a chill along your soft stomach and backside.  You huffed, throwing it off within a second and diving back to kiss Azriel and framing his face in your hands. He smiled against your lips, you feeling his skin skim along your stomach and hips while your fingers were not moving down to the collar of his shirt to give it a gentle tug. Azriel laughed against your mouth as you tugged it again.

"Impatient little thing, are you?" He teased against your lips, though you silenced him with one massive kiss, your own tongue then licking into his mouth. He groaned, you having a small smirk as you were needing to lean back but Azriel was chasing after your lips. But you placed space between yourself and him, a hand on his chest and seeing his dilated eyes watching you like you were prey to him, His chest heaving, his lips plump and dark, and the flushness in his cheeks. He might have looked like a wreck to anyone else.

But to you, he was angelic.

"Who's impatient now?" You challenged back to him.  He grinned, a predatory-like grin etched on his gorgeous face as he then grabbed the collar of his own shirt and yanked it off. You watched as it fell to the ground, Azriel seeing it too as he broke out into a laugh.

"Thank The Cauldron these shirts are Illyrian friendly," He said in a snort, you giggling as well as you saw your shirt crumbled next to his.  Having this small moment to laugh, even when you both were shirtless and in a compromising position, was a sweet reminder of how you two were so in love with one another. The centuries of having one another,and learning from one another, all lead to a fulfilling life. Nothing felt bland or out of place, you still had those butterflies in your chest when you had these moments with him. 

You both took in a breath together, looking at one another with big grins on your faces as Azriel finally dived back in to kiss you. The heat was still there, no throes of passion but still active enough to have Azriel place his hands along your backside to touch your bra and the latches behind it. You were feeling so good all over, the heat was getting bigger in your stomach as you nodded against his lips.

"Please," You said along his lips, Azriel groaning in approval as his fingers were skillfully taking off the bra straps and letting your bra slip to the ground. His hands immediately moved, cupped your breasts as you moaned against his lips and curled into him more. The feel of his calloused palms against your soft skin, you feeling your nipples hardening immediately from his touch, it was a weakness for you that your mate knew far too well.

You could even feel your core reacting to this, shockwaves under your skin were felt like Azriel moved his lips along your lips and then to your jawline and then your neck. You clung onto him with one hand, your other moving down to undo the buttons of his pants. 

"Let's go to our bed…" You felt Azriel hum against your neck, making you shiver from his lips along your sensitive skin. But you shook your head rapidly, not wishing to lose this momentum or this drive that was building.  You popped the one button open skillfully with your fingers, and the sound alone was heard by both of you.

"No," you said hotly, feeling him lean back and look up at you while his hands were still cupping your breasts delicately. You saw that fire in his eyes alone just in the way he was watching you with desire etched all over his face. You took in a long inhale, almost feeling powerful to have the Spymaster himself bend to your will.

So you leaned down, nuzzling his nose against your own and looking at him directly in the eyes.

"I want you, here and now, on this couch," You instructed him.

You've never seen him cave so fast and so willingly.

You both moved elegantly, knowing this dance far too well as you both helped strip each other's clothes off while remaining close to one another. Like magnets, unwilling to be too far apart as you both were now bare and holding onto each other.  In this little home that was your safe space, a space you two built up and kept strong for years on end, your love was blossoming all over again. Feeling his lips descending to your breast, kissing one breast with delicacy and yet with fire while his other hand took care of the other breast with ease. You were too far gone in the lust and sensations of his mouth and hands on you to notice Azriel's own shadows licking along your skin, making the lust come out all the more. You had to give him credit, he knew how to use all his tools to his advantage. 

Moans and sounds of passion filled your little home as Azriel sunk into you, you both holding onto each other so closely as he finally sunk into you.  It always took your breath away, how he both stretched you to your limit and yet made it feel so perfect and so right. So many times in the past you thought how perfect he felt inside of you, snug against your walls and hitting the right spots within you that made you see and feel stars. You felt it again that moment, his cock fitting you so perfectly that you felt like you two were made for one another. It made you speechless for a moment, frozen in his lap as he was watching your reaction. No matter that you couldn't find the words or put together a sentence, you were feeling everything and everywhere. 

You had no idea what Azriel was thinking at that moment, watching up be speechless as he was buried deep inside of you. He was feeling that sensation as well, pure lust and euphoria rolled into one. Nothing else could feel this amazing, this close to heaven or any kind of heaven, and it all came from you.  Your shining eyes, your tender heart, and yourwillingness to love him for all he was and for all his flaws. But the physical love he felt for you heightened all the more.

But seeing you bare, eyes lusted over in bliss and love with your head tilted back and looking up at the ceiling, chest heaving, and your hair cascading down your back, Azriel was in love all over again.

"Mother Above," He said in a breath, almost sounding winded himself from the sight of you. If he were to die in that moment, he would die a happy being and have no shame in it. You opened your eyes, hearing him and looking at you with your breath barely on your lips. He smiled the rare smile that made you think he hung the moon. He uttered one word, a word that he would use to always describe you and his love for you:

"Divine"

From that moment on, you both moved so softly and carefully yet filled with passion and possession simultaneously. Youwere inwardly thankful that your home was tucked away from anyone else, giving you all the privacy to fully enjoy this moment with your mate as he rolled his hips deeply and almost in a feral manner. You were letting him, having the experience know that this wasn't going to be anything typical. Your sex life with Azriel was never typical: it was always driven to ecstasy. Somehow, this time seemed deeper.  Being on the couch in front of a roaring fire, the sounds of bothyourself and Azriel enjoying one another as you rode him carefully with his arms around you, it all felt like an out-of-body experience.

As you were getting close and closer to your peak, you were closing your eyes and leaning against Azriel as you were feeling every sensation: his cock hitting your sweet spot inside of you with every roll of his hips, his hands roaming along your sweaty skin, his lips brushing along your neck. Even hearing him moan and grunt, the pure love and lust he was feeling too while he pleasing you, was making you get closer to the edge as well.  You both were feeding off each other, a tactic you both have done for years and years.

I love you, Cauldron I love you so much. I can feel you….mph….everywhere! You hear in your mind through the bond,that his voice was sounding raw and emotional as you were moving hotly in his ear. You felt wrecked, emotionally and lustfully as you were attempting to connect words to make a thought or two. But he was fucking you so good, drilling into you to the point that you were losing your breath once or twice. 

Right there Az….fuck…right there! Please…please fill me up. You moaned through the bond to him, the rational side was slipping away and something else was taking over. Something that you could only show to your mate when you were in the throws of pleasure. Perhaps you weren't thinking about it too much, but Azriel let out a gutted moan. Something you never heard in a long time, such a long time. It made you open your eyes briefly, looking down at your mate and seeing the wrecked look on his face.  So disheveled, and yet beyond gorgeous to you as he kept rolling his hips over and over to not stop the momentum. 

You knew then that a new side of Azriel took over. 

Say that again! He pleaded in the bond, his eyes slammed shut as you heard his pleading tone in your mind. You were confused at first, not knowing what he was talking about while you were petting his hair and still staying so close to him. He said nothing at first, just grunting with every thrust he was giving, but you were moving your fingers then from your face over to the top of his wings, being dangerously close to running your fingers along the membrane to throw him off.

Say what, baby? You asked him, almost sounding a bit smug about it while you tried to hold back from touching his wing. Just seeing his face alone was enough to make you want to crumble and fall to pieces, your pleasure getting at an all-time high and about to tumble over. But you still had the one last piece of resistance, of control, to hold back until you knew Azriel was going to tumble over with you. 

To…oh fuck….to fill….fill you up. He confessed, having you smile widely in pleasure flowing through you so quickly to take over your entire body. Hearing that from your mate, from a Shadowsinger and feared Illyrian throughout all of Prythian and even beyond, stunned you.  He was putty in your hands, and the way he was shaking and whimpering against your skin, you knew he was close. Beyond close, and all he needed was a push.

With a brush of your fingers along his wing, you whispered against his ear, "Make me fucking full,"

He roared, orgasming and emptying himself into you in such a force that it made you cry out and orgasm as well.

The orgasm alone was enough to make your head swim and your skin crawl in the best way possible. The pleasure alone, mixed in with the lust and love that you had for one another was now filling the room as your body was riding through each moment that felt like a lifetime. Azriel clung onto you as he was shaking, still riding his own high as you felt like you were going through it in slow motion.  From the top of your head to the tip of your toes, it was all there. You felt out of your body for a split second, floating in the air right above your home and embracing the air.

You were floating back down to the ground again, back onto that couch where you felt boneless in the arms of your mate, who was still shaking himself and feeling just as exhausted as you were. Both of your shared labored breaths, you blinking slowly as the white-hot pleasure that once soared through you was now a Luke warm, a soothing warm. Azriel'sscarred but beautiful fingers were dancing along your bare back, his face dug into your neck and sounding breathless and exhausted. Yet you felt a smile along your skin, you grinning as your face was against his head.

"That's….that's a first," You commented in a gasp. Azriel laughed, sounding so light after giving you an earth-shattering orgasm, "Never took you to like something like that, sweetheart,"

"You bring out the side of me that I never knew I had," Azriel confessed, having you giggle in a shy manner as you finally pulled back a bit to look at a blissed-out Azriel. You loved this look, the look of bliss and pure happiness that could only come from something like this. You were feeling it too, the sense of being the only two beings in the world and everything else ceasing to exist. And having Azriel cradle you close in his embrace, almost shielding you from the outside world and keeping this small bubble of bliss intact.

"You know, the last time we were in a position like this….I got pregnant with Alec," You explained to him as you reached down and ruffled his sweaty hair. He lit up a bit from the memory, you thinking about it too that fateful night when you two were in the deep throws of pleasure together in your bed. It was in the same manner too, you being in his lap and cock buried so deep side of it that you felt every moment and the insane pleasure that he experienced. That memory alone was vibrant in your mind, Azriel leaning up and perhaps reading your mind through the bond, you feeling his flicker of joy over and over as he spoke up again.

"Are you suggesting that we have had a repeat of that fateful night?" He asked, almost in a tease as he saw you blush. Youwere about to hide your face from him, moving your eyes away from him. However, he was faster in catching your jaw with his fingers and making sure you were facing him again. You felt the butterflies in your stomach as he kissed you sweetly. This kind of intimacy, this kind of love, it was something others around dream to at least experience once. Youhad it for centuries, years of building it up together and making it as strong as it was. 

As Azriel pulled away from your lips, he still kept his smile and his loving gaze on you as he searched your eyes.

"If we did, then I am all the more happy for It," You whispered, your heart beating out of your chest. You were thinking in the back of your mind that maybe down the road, sooner or later, another little one would be in your family. It was never a topic you or Azriel spoke about, but then again it wasn't closed either. Life with Alec was beyond a blessing, unlocking a part of your heart and soul you never thought you would have in this lifetime. A child that was the perfect mix of you and your mate, was all you've ever wanted and more.  And thinking of another child, another perfect child that you and Azriel would guide in the world.

It was so tempting.

"I think a shower is in order," Azriel hummed, carefully slipping out of you and you shifting a bit uncomfortably. But he moved swiftly, he picked you up bridal style, you laughing as your arms were around his neck and he stood up. You both were naked and yet ecstatic, Azriel carrying you over to the bathroom that was attached to the bedroom as you leaned your head on his shoulder. 

The flickering dream of perhaps another child in your family was still in the back of your mind. 

The End.

Tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams @prettylittlewrites @fxckmiup @alwayshave-faith

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Me: don't make Charlie's habit of twirling / spinning Vaggie into a THiNG it can just be CUTE with no other headcanons behind it-

also me: what if Vaggie always loved dancing but took being an exorcist very seriously bc of the whole "learned to trust people on the battlefield" thing so the only time she felt she had an excuse for dancing with a partner was when she called it "training" or "unarmed sparing" and goaded Lute into doing it with her (Lute being Adam's second and Vaggie one of his best girls) (what, is Lute scared of not being able to keep up with her-?)

Lute: "This, is stupid."

Vaggie: "It's just like sparring."

Lute: "Then why can't I use a sword."

Vaggie: "The point is learning to read your opponent's body and move with it. A weapon only gets in the way."

Lute: "Or maybe you know which on of us would win in a real fight."

Vaggie: "OR maybe it's nice to practice WITHOUT someone losing feathers over it."

Lute: "Only losers lose feathers. If they don't like it they should start WINNING."

Vaggie: "Just put your fucking hand on my waist and do a box step."

Lute: "A what? Put my hand- where!?"

Vaggie: "Forget it. We'll dance like we're in a damn period piece ballroom scene. You can at least survive spinning me, right?"

Lute: "SPIN you?"

Vaggie: "Just hold up your hand and-"

Lute: "We look dumb enough as is! I'm not making myself look SILLY just so you can do a stupid spin."

Vaggie: "Fine."

Lute: "You need to watch yourself. Exorcist are heaven's first line of defense- we are the divine blades guarding the pearly gates. We need to keep ourselves sharp, focused- If you slip even once-"

Vaggie: "I said fine! I get it! Alright? God let's just, let's just get this over with..."

And then she's in hell, a year or so after Lute grabbed her wrist and pulled her eye-first onto a sword instead of a dance,

and it turns out the princess of hell is an eager and willing dancer, even if she's maybe not the most graceful or easy to follow- but it's the kind of challenge Vaggie loves-

(and not the only thing Vaggie loves)

-especially when Charlie's the one who cleared out a space, put on a playlist, and waved her into the middle of the room so they could laugh and bow / curtsy before making tracks across the carpet-

all of this, even though Charlie's still rusty at dancing, never was into it other much other than as another way to flail around to a beat, and here she is now, seriously trying to remember or learn all the different steps Vaggie shows her

this time it's a waltz

Vaggie's been avoiding waltzes. And sure enough she finds herself spacing out in the middle of it, coming back to the excited sound of Charlie's voice

Charlie: "I think we're doing it!"

Vaggie: "...hm?"

Charlie: "The waltz! It's been ages but, this is about right, right?"

Vaggie: "Oh uh, yeah. You've got it. Told you you would."

Charlie: (laughing) "And I told YOU if we made it through this it'd be because you're so good at making ME look like a good dancer! Even when my hooves keep snagging on the carpet... Even when you're a million miles away."

Vaggie: "Shit. Sorry."

Charlie: "No it's fine! Good practice for me leading!" (leading them onto a new patch of floor) "So! A lot on your mind?"

Vaggie: "Just remembered something, is all."

Charlie: "Waltz related?"

Vaggie: "I wouldn't compare this with that."

Charlie: "Aww, shoot." (pouts) "Well give me a few months and I'll get there."

Vaggie: (chuckling) "Charlie, you're already WAY past the last dance partner I had."

Charlie: "Wow. That bad huh?"

Vaggie: "What'd I just say about you and dancing?"

Charlie: "That at least I'm not totally the absolute worst ever?"

Vaggie: "Yeah no. Try again."

Charlie: (grinning) "I'm better than they were."

Vaggie: "You sure are. Actually trying counts for a lot, honestly."

Charlie: "You make trying things a lot easier." (hoof catches) (stumbles) (vaggie steadies her) "Case in point!"

Vaggie: "We really gotta remember to roll up the carpet next time."

Charlie: "Orrrr you'll just have to go on catching me!"

Vaggie: "I'll do that with or without the carpet."

Charlie: "Right!" (face hot) "Er so, were they clumsy too? Lacking in the whole smooth moves department?" (blushes MORE)

Vaggie: "The moves were fine, the ego got in the way a bit."

Charlie: "Ego?"

Vaggie: (sighs) (rolls eye) "Apparently twirling me would've looked too silly."

Charlie: "Wh- Twirling you?"

Vaggie: "Spinning. Whatever. They cared about that a lot and- I know I know- it's a dumb thing to still be hung up on."

Charlie: "Well I'd be honored to look silly with you!"

Vaggie: (laughing) "Okay?"

Charlie: "Can I spin you?"

Vaggie: "You really don't have to."

Charlie: "So we can do it on three? One. Two-"

Vaggie: "Really it's- watch out, table at 3 O'clock-"

Charlie: "-Wheeeeee~!"

Vaggie: "WHOA- that-" (breathless) "Now THAT was a spin."

Charlie: "Eheheh. Whoops?"

Vaggie: "Oh no, no whoopsing your way out of this one, I'm gonna need to inflict some payback spinning of my own." (grins)

Charlie: "Uh I'm kinda tall for-"

Vaggie: "You ever been lifted?"

Charlie: "I mean when I was a kid sure, but I'm like a foot taller than-"

Vaggie: "On three. One."

Charlie: "-Vaggie you come up to maybe my shoulder-"

Vaggie: "Two."

Charlie: "-not that you can't do anything you set your mind to, obviously! I'm just not sure how-"

Vaggie: "Three."

Charlie: "Hwha- OH!" (gleeful) (laughing) "Ohhh my gosh-!"

Vaggie: (smug) "There's more than one way to twirl a girl across the floor."

Charlie: "Spinning WHILE lifting!?"

Vaggie: "Fun right?"

Charlie: "SO MUCH FUN! Can we do it again!?"

Vaggie: "Sure-"

Charlie: "Ooh ohh can I do it to you too? Can we take turns??"

Vaggie: "Not worried about looking silly, huh?"

Charlie: "No! Why would-" (stops)

Charlie: (stops their dance)

Charlie: "Vaggie, I.... I really don't know why anyone wouldn't want to be silly with you. Or how it could ever be more important than seeing you happy like this."

Vaggie: "...Not everyone's like you, sweetie."

Charlie: "Or maybe everyone just needs to actually see you for once."

Vaggie: "I'd rather just stick to you for now. If, that's okay?"

Charlie: "Always."

(dance resumes, much slower, much closer)

Charlie: "It's, it's okay to miss people too, you know. I know, I mean. How much that sucks. If you, want to talk about...?"

Vaggie: "No. Thanks."

Charlie: "You're missing them though, huh?"

Vaggie: "It's not that. It's just, weird how much things change."

Charlie: "Like dance partners."

Vaggie: "Like your reasons for dancing with them."

Charlie: "....Oh."

(do they kiss???) (i have no idea) (maybe Vaggie just relaxes and rests her head over Charlie's heart) (maybe Charlie tries her best not to think about how hard it's beating)

(maybe somewhere up in heaven, an exorcist with a sword does a box step while training, slips, and slices her target in half in fury when she realizes it)

maybe Vaggie always loved dancing but had to end up in hell before finally getting to dance the way she always wanted to

or maybe

it feels like Vaggie never danced at all, until she had Charlie to share it with

[justwinginglife]

The Waiting Game

The line between friends and lovers is dangerously thin and Soshiro Hoshina likes to fucking cartwheel down that tightrope like it's his personal plaything.

Any stranger walking by could see he was clearly checking you out, but if asked, he'd simply shrug and say something about how it was his duty as your friend to make sure your fly was zipped or your socks were matching. He never thought to make himself less obvious as he took in the sight of your shirt that dangled just a little too low or your pants that hugged your curves just a little too tight. He didn't have to. If you claimed to notice his wandering gaze, you'd be setting yourself up for a witty rebuttal. He might say, "Oh, look who's paying so much attention to me, if I didn't know better, I'd say you liked me," or even, "Don't go telling me you didn't wear those clothes on purpose, we both know the truth." He had all sorts of banter at the ready, quips locked and loaded. He wanted to corner you, to checkmate you, to coax a confession from your supple lips. Of course he loved you. But it was much more fun to make you admit you loved him too.

And you did. You wore that shirt on purpose, you wore those pants on purpose. You bent over in those pants on purpose. But two could play at this game, and you were awfully good at chess.

If he was a tightrope walker, you were a sword swallower. You could take anything he'd throw at you, gulp it down, lick your lips, and have room for seconds. Maybe throw in a burp for good measure.

So the circus act continued, both of you juggling offense and defense, both of you thinking yourself the lion tamer. It was anyone's guess at this point, who would cave in first.

You pictured the two of you on your deathbeds, your hands wrinkled with age, still trying to wring a confession from each other's throats. It was honestly a terrifying notion, thinking that eighty years from now, your feelings might accompany you to the grave, unvoiced, unreciprocated. But it hadn't been eighty years yet, it had only been one, and your pride was still in prime condition, even despite Soshiro's attempts to wear it down.

When he bragged to you about his hot date, eager for your reaction, you simply pointed him to your favorite flower shop and told him what to buy her. When he ended up not going through with it because some mysterious illness overtook him, an illness that only lasted the length of what would have been the date, you simply smirked and remarked on how convenient it was that his condition was so particular. He had shrugged, saying, "Maybe I was allergic to her, who knows?" You had laughed and he had smiled. Then you both went about your usual day, stealing time from each other whenever you could, sneaking glances, subtly inching closer, the distance both an inch and a galaxy apart.

The gap only widened when Captain Ashiro relayed to the Third Division news of the Winter Ball. It was like prom for soldiers, and when you heard the announcement, you felt like you were right back in high school- everything infamously familiar, right down to the nerves that threatened to swallow you whole.

You could always pull the, "You're single, I'm single, let's go as friends," card. But you weren't sure that either of you would be content with that resolution. Neither one of you wanted to resign yourselves to a night of awkwardly sitting at a side table, using small talk to fill the simmering silence, as you watched other couples slow dance their way into oblivion.

But unfortunately for the both of you, rather than declare a draw, your little game with each other continued, even as the event drew nearer. You'd ask him who he was going with, feigning nonchalance, and he'd dodge the question, feigning ignorance.

At some point, you bought yourself a dress, though you had no idea why. There was only a week to go, and still, no one had asked you for the pleasure of your company on that night, not even him. You weren't sure you should even go. But still, you let your hopes drape from a hanger in your closet, in case maybe he decided to overturn the chessboard, throw the match, ask you out.

Narumi beat him to the punch.

When you asked him why he was asking you so late in the game, he merely shrugged, saying he hadn't realized the ball was happening in the first place, but now he knew and he wanted you.

Soshiro had caught wind of it.

He ignored you until an hour before the dance.

He knew you liked to hide on the roof when you got nervous, and as he climbed the stairs to the top, he begged you to be there. He hoped you were having second thoughts about going with Narumi. He hoped you were pacing in your dress, waiting for him to whisk you away, because he was ready to whisk you away. He had dragged his feet through this whole fucking charade, and now he suddenly found his own pace too exceedingly, disgustingly slow for his liking.

When he got to the roof, all that awaited him was a cold breeze and the night sky. He collapsed on the floor, leaning back to take in all the stars. He didn't care anymore if he got his suit dirty, he only wore it for you anyway. His finger traced patterns of constellations as the white of his breath stained the air. He wished on every single star that he could see you tonight, all dressed up and gorgeous. He didn't have to see you to know you looked stunning. But he had planned to go home after he finished this sulking session. He didn't want to see how happy you looked with Narumi. Of all the people, why did it have to be him? The idea of you with anyone else but him made him ache, but the idea of you with Narumi made him want to tie a noose around his neck.

Another half hour of brooding later, he decided he needed to go home. That, or freeze to death, which would serve him right. But he turned towards the door and suddenly, there you were, his light in the dark, his warmth in the cold. And you were dazzling. He knew you would be. You always were, no matter what you were wearing.

"Y-you're here."

You nodded. "I'm here. And you're here. Why are you here?"

He pulled his jacket tighter around him. "This is your spot."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is. Were you looking for me?" You tried to keep the hopefulness out of your voice, but it seeped into the frosty air all the same.

He fidgeted with his cufflinks, nodding slowly.

You began walking over to him, and he knew you were going to sit down so he quickly took his jacket off for you to sit on. He didn't want to ruin your dress.

You shook your head at him. "You look freezing, put your jacket back on. How long have you been out here anyway?" You threw his jacket back around his shoulders, plopping down next to him, unbothered by your dress.

He blushed and looked away. "That's not important."

The silence resumed.

"It's your favorite color." You blurted out suddenly, desperate to fill the air with something, with anything.

He immediately knew you meant your dress. He had noticed. "It's nice."

You coughed.

He chuckled. "Alright, it's more than nice. You look breathtaking. Seriously, I'm having trouble breathing with you so close to me." He teased as he nudged you with his shoulder, trying to make light of the awkward situation.

"You don't look so bad yourself. Even for someone who's half frozen to death. So why were you looking for me?"

He bit his lip. "Had a, uh, question... for you."

You settled your head on his shoulder and you felt him tense up. "And what's this question of yours that's so important you almost gave yourself frostbite?"

"Will you.... will you go to the dance with me?" He held his breath as the words left his mouth.

You laughed. "Little late, don't you think? We're about a half hour away from it."

He groaned. "I know, I know. But don't go with Narumi. Please don't. He wouldn't know romance if it shit in his lap. He doesn't know how to treat a woman."

You smirked. "And you do?"

He looked at you properly for the first time that night, his gaze locked on yours with a sudden sense of determination. "Yes, I do. If that woman is you. I know everything about you. I have to. Knowing you is the second greatest pleasure of my life."

"And..." The words caught in your throat, "And what's the first?"

"Loving you."

Your heart soared in your chest. "I love you too."

"So will you be my date to the dance? And the rest of my life?"

You kissed him in response.

Suddenly the cold faded from your bodies, the frigid air rescinding itself from your lungs, as your warmth intermingled in a display of passion.

"So, what should I call this, checkmate?" You teased him as you pulled away from his lips, leaving him wanting more.

He rolled his eyes but nothing could make him less smitten than he was right now. "I call this me throwing the match."

"Well, better late than never, baby."

You kissed him again.

And then the both of you danced the rest of the night into oblivion together.

[bythepen98]

@zutaramonth Day 3: After all these years ||

I just love the idea of them learning to dance together and being so very cute and awkward about it at first 🥺💕.

Brief backstory:

Although they were busy preparing for the war, they still needed time to have fun and de-stress so a small feast with music and dancing seemed like a good idea. Zuko and Katara were pushed to spend time together by the rest of the Gaang because they've had enough of the weird distance between the two, brought by brewing feelings that both weren't sure about acknowledging yet. At this point, they've already resolved most of their issues and were on track to becoming really good friends until the 'complication' happened.

Feelings can be ass sometimes fr.

Somehow, what started as a one time, peer pressured, clumsy bonding attempt between two hyperaware-of-each-other teenagers ended up lasting longer than expected. Excuses would be made to continue dancing together because once the initial awkwardness has passed, they found that it was actually quite relaxing (especially for two usually hot headed people) just going through the motions and communicating with looks and gentle touches what they had zero courage to say out loud. Both were also restless and couldn't always spend their hours training so dancing felt like fair game. A very pleasant and completely platonic way of passing the time with a good friend, or at least that's what they told themselves.

Then the war ended, feelings were finally acknowledged and returned now that there was enough time to reflect and actually do something about it and time continued to pass. No matter the changes and busy schedules that came with adulthood and bearing the responsibilities of ruling/helping rule a nation, some things remained constant. Though they never broadcasted it, the Gaang knew that Katara and Zuko would sometimes be found at night just swaying in each other's arms while they quietly talked about their day. It became a tradition - their way to bond and reconnect after a busy day. It was also muscle memory at this point and something they would naturally drift to doing when the opportunity arose. If they weren't training, lounging and drinking tea or walking arm in arm along the courtyard for a stroll, they'd be dancing.

Ofc the dances varied. Most of the time it was simple, intimate, and didn't require much energy. It was during festivals and other special events where they'd let loose and swap partners with their friends. They definitely would've taught each other's traditional dances too. Most of the time they stuck to couple dances though.

The two would then make it to their golden years surrounded by friends and family. In this au, Aang, Sokka and Suki are definitely still alive and kicking and they, together with Toph, would reminisc about the good old days and pat themselves in the back for helping get Zuko and Katara together. They would've gotten together eventually anyway but the Gaang just sped up the process and the credit for starting the whole dancing tradition goes to them. Aang isn't afraid to admit that he and whoever he married in this au also partake in said tradition; Sokka and Suki would do so every now and then but they much prefer exchanging swords as their love language; Toph is indifferent and much prefers just sitting back and letting them enjoy themselves.

This is way over due but I'm glad I was able to finish it. Will sadly be the only prompt I'll be able to do for zutara month bc life threw a wrench and made me too busy, though I'm still interested in making the other prompts at a later date. /N

[immoralkombat]

feeling(s)

Kenshi has been blind for maybe an hour or two.

Johnny looks over at him with sympathy. He's not sure what he could possibly do or say to make things seem any less bleak for him. The man was just trying to get his family's heirloom back and now, after months of training and dedication, one of his five senses is gone permanently through no fault of his own. If Johnny were in Kenshi's position, he's sure he'd be feeling just as desolate, if not more so.

Kung Lao is sitting in the far corner, talking to Baraka. He seems genuinely fascinated by Tarkat as a disease. Were Johnny not in the same situation as them, he would find that particular conversation topic a bit morbid. Right now, it's really all they have to talk about. They've already exhausted all the small talk options you normally go through when first meeting someone. They might as well start talking about the disease that'll eventually kill Baraka.

The salve on the cloth seems to have worked a little, because at least Kenshi isn't moaning in pain every few seconds anymore. Not that it makes things significantly more cheerful, but it does help the atmosphere a bit.

Johnny taps on his knees as he sits, eyes darting between looking at Kung Lao and Kenshi. He's kind of in between where the two have sat themselves, a visual and metaphorical median between the two ways one could possibly react to getting imprisoned by a sorcerer that's almost 100% going to kill you. (To be fair, there isn't much that connects the points of "casually talking about a stranger's terminal illness with them as though you're both standing by the office water cooler talking about whatever hit TV show is airing these days" and "rocking back in forth in the corner about how a different terminally ill stranger took your eyes and you have nothing left in this world." Johnny supposes the best middle point is "looking anxiously between your two co-workers and not saying anything because Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you supposed to say in this situation besides aforementioned terminal illness.")

He really wishes that Kenshi still had his eyes, because every time he looked at Johnny, it always seemed to make everything feel okay.

Johnny thinks for a second and then scoots closer to Kenshi. It's only once he accidentally bumps up against Kenshi's foot and scares the living shit out of everyone in the cell that he realizes he probably should've given an audible cue that he was going to be approaching the newly blind guy.

After Kenshi's done having a mini panic attack over the sudden Hollywood A-lister jumpscare he's gotten, Johnny looks at him and asks, quietly, "Do you want to hold Sento for a bit?"

Kenshi turns to face him and even underneath the newly christened blindfold, Johnny can tell that Kenshi is looking at him with the most surprised and reverent eyes in the universe. The kind of look that you'd get and say "fuck this stupid sword, I'd pay $3 million just to get this guy to look at me like that again."

Kenshi's mouth opens as though he's going to say something, but it shuts again before any words or sounds can come out. He opts to nod in response and Johnny takes the scabbard from off his back, holds it in his hands gently and passes it to Kenshi. Their fingertips graze one another, a way to indicate that the blind man is in the right spot. The touch sends crackles of electricity through Johnny and he wonders if Kenshi feels them too.

It's like the tattoos on Kenshi's hands are swirling around him, colors dancing in front of his eyes. It's more beautiful than any lame fucking Disney movie ever could be.

The yakuza's voice is hoarse as he says "Thanks." It's so small that Johnny can almost see it breaking in the air. He wants to put his hand on Kenshi's and tell him that things will be okay, that he's going to pay for a sight companion, any kind of corrective surgeries he wants, whatever it takes. He wants to tell him that he's still just as strong and fierce and goddamn handsome now as he was before. He wants to kiss him so fucking badly it makes his entire being ache.

He settles for saying "You're welcome," and then sitting next to Kenshi in silence.

He watches the way that he holds Sento in his hands, feels every single nick in the scabbard, every single imperfection. It's the first time in Johnny's life that he's ever wanted to be a sword and, if he keeps hanging out with Kenshi after this, (which he hopes he can), it almost certainly won't be the last.

Johnny wishes that Mileena had taken Kenshi's tear ducts with her after she'd stabbed his eyes out, because the short sad sobs that wrack through his body are almost too much to bear witness to. When he cries, it moves through his entire being. It sends a shockwave from his gut upward, makes him lurch his shoulders forward and hug himself.

"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Johnny asks. He knows it's a stupid fucking question, obviously everyone knows what's wrong, most of all the guy it happened to. But it's all he can think to ask as he watches Kenshi continue to awkwardly jerk alongside his cries.

Kenshi's head turns to face Johnny. From beyond the thin red cloth that covers his eye sockets, Johnny can feel them boring into him.

"Cage, could I touch you? I want to remember what your face looks like."

If Johnny were operating on his full mental capacity, he would probably explode at this question. He would become the fireworks they popped last night at the banquet over their heads as they feasted. He would be attached to one end of a fuse with Li Mei holding the other end, readying herself to spark it and send him to the stratosphere.

"Y-Yeah, of course you can, Ken-doll. Just make sure not to damage the goods - people pay good money for this mug to show up on their big screens."

The smugness in his voice would normally earn him a "tch" or a groan, (or an eye roll), from Kenshi. Hearing him chuckle under his breath makes his heart soar.

He turns his face toward him and waits, but no touch comes. His eyes close, he anticipates the electricity to come back... and instead he hears Kenshi clearing his throat awkwardly.

Johnny opens his eyes and finds that Kenshi's still got his hands on Sento. He tries not to be jealous of the sword again, but as with any other time he's tried not to be jealous of someone or something that has what he wants, he fails miserably.

"Could you get closer, Cage?"

"Not the first time I'm hearing that question, won't be the last. How close you need me, handsome?"

The words come out before he can even process them. Jesus Christ, is he really that much of a disaster that he can just openly call a guy he's been crushing on for at least a month handsome without even thinking about it? He's a fucking mess. His wife left him and now he doesn't know how to act. She was gonna be the only person he'd ever be able to trick into loving him and now she was gone.

"I'm going to turn, and I suggest you do the same. I want to be facing you. You can sit with your legs touching mine if it helps."

Great, now Kenshi has a colorful blindfold that also serves as a perfect swatch for the shade of red Johnny's face turns every time the man says something that's totally fucking normal for two people that are acquainted with one another.

Johnny does as he's told, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's taking directions. (Ignoring literally every single major motion picture he's ever been in, every statement he's ever made to the press after consulting his legal teams and public consultants, and generally living life up until this point.)

His knees knock against Kenshi's and it takes him aback for a second, how giddy and childish the butterflies he feels in his stomach are. Getting to know Kenshi was so simple. He wishes he had just taken a second and been less of a dickwad back when they'd first met, because maybe then it'd be easier for him to grow a pair of cajones and tell Kenshi that he doesn't spend a single night without thinking about how much he wants to trace the tattoos on his hands and arms. Maybe if he had just given Sento over, it'd be easier to admit that the low rumble of Kenshi's voice does something to stir up the pool of heat in his stomach that he thought had been long since gone after getting married to Cristal. Maybe if he hadn't tied Kenshi to one of his kitchen chairs, it'd be easier to ask him if kissing washed-up celebrities was something he'd be interested in doing.

"I'll put my hand out, you lean forward to match it."

Kenshi's palm is extended and it takes every ounce of willpower in Johnny's aching body to not press his lips against it. He leans forward until his cheek is lightly touching the yakuza's hand.

He must be hearing things, because he swears he hears Kenshi's breath hitch when they make contact for the first time. Nah, surely not. Must've been the wind.

If Kenshi's senses are heightened because of the loss of his vision, then Johnny's senses are heightened because of the gain of his touch. He purses his lips together to stop from letting out some sort of obscene sound as he feels Kenshi's hand slowly smooth over his cheek. He thanks whatever fucked up Gods exist other than Liu Kang that he finally got on that moisturizing routine that he learned off of TikTok three months ago.

As Kenshi's hand slowly feels out every angle and curve of Johnny's face, his thoughts rush a mile a minute. He wonders if he should've done a closer shave today - maybe his stubble is gonna be too sharp and it'll hurt Kenshi and leave him with little cuts or rug burn on his pretty perfect wrap-around-my-throat-please hands. He wonders if his nose is too big. He wonders if he maybe should've invested in hair plugs after that one weird SNL dropout made a comment about his weird square hairline back when he guest starred on the Comedy Central roast of Megan Fox. He wonders if his eyes are too small or too large or too close together or too far apart. He wonders if he should smile so Kenshi can feel his dimples.

"Yep, it all feels just like how I remember it. Although the stubble has gotten a little longer."

That is certainly not the answer he was expecting to hear.

His voice is small, barely there, as he chokes out his question. "You remember what I look like?"

Kenshi nods. "I do."

Johnny goes to open his mouth to ask, "Then why did you ask to touch it if you already knew?"

But then Kenshi's fingers are on his lips, tracing them with the reverence he'd have holding Sento, and for a moment, Johnny finally thinks he's better than that stupid fucking sword. His smile has the same curves, the same edges. The only difference is that Kenshi can't accidentally hurt himself this way. (He can, however, accidentally hurt Johnny. But even that would be better than the alternative, he thinks.)

Kenshi's thumb is on his bottom lip, the rest of his hand now holding Johnny's chin. If he tilts it up even one degree, Johnny thinks it'll be over for him, that he'll be kissing Kenshi before he can even think to stop himself. He'd always had poor impulse control - why else would he have spent $3 million on a fucking sword to hang up in his living room?

"These are the same, too. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the fight, Cage."

Johnny feels so fucking overwhelmed. He wants to ask so many things. First of all, what does "these are the same, too" mean? Second, why does he care about the guy who bought his fucking family heirloom and refuses to give it back? Third, why does he insist on calling him Cage like one day he won't end up calling him Johnny and breaking his heart? Fourth, what in the goddamn fuck does he mean about Johnny's fucking lips being the goddamn motherfucking same?!

Johnny decides to play it up like he always does. "Well, 'course. Gotta keep my pretty mouth. It's what makes the big bucks. I wouldn't be the same without it."

Kenshi smirks, and thank Liu Kang's weird god siblings that he's blind right now, because Johnny is beet red, mouth agape, with his eyebrows raised (and he's fairly certain that something else also rises).

"That's true. You would not be the same without that infamous mouth." Kenshi accents the compliment(?) with a playful slap to Johnny's cheek, and then his hand is withdrawn entirely, leaving an empty ghost where he should still be holding Johnny's face in his hands.

He bites back the urge to immediately ask if Kenshi wants to know just how infamous the mouth is, and settles for clearing his throat and moving back to sitting against the wall next to Kenshi.

He looks over at him after he's gotten calmed down. His heart is still jackhammering against his ribs, but as long as Kenshi can't feel his pulse, he doesn't have to know. Kenshi seems to sense Johnny's eyes on him because he turns to face him, red blindfold all that stands between the gaping holes where Kenshi's eyes used to be and Johnny's gaze full of adoration.

The yakuza grabs Sento from his lap and hands it back to Johnny.

"Thank you. I appreciate you letting me hold it. And I appreciate your help in grounding me back to reality."

Johnny nods, taking Sento back and putting it where it so wrongfully deserves to be, strapped against Johnny's sore fucking back.

"No problem. Lemme know whenever you get the urge to feel out what an Adonis looks like, I'm happy to oblige." His comment is a means to an end. He plays up the egoism to ignore the shock that courses through him as Kenshi's fingertips touch his one last time.

He resolves then and there to give Sento back as soon as they escape from here, and they will escape.

This cannot be the last time he feels Kenshi's hands on him.

Baraka whispers, about as well as he can without lips or an inside voice, "Do they not realize how much they yearn for one another?"

Kung Lao shakes his head, putting a hand on Baraka's shoulder and immediately regretting it once he feels a spike tear into his palm. "They've just gotta be stupid about it for a bit longer. They'll figure it out."

"Surely their pining has to cause some sort of agony for you as well, does it not, Earthrealmer?" Baraka looks genuinely confused, or as close to it as he can get from what Kung Lao can tell.

Kung Lao hangs his head, sighing languidly. "Of course it does. But what else am I gonna do about it? Tell them? They're not gonna believe me. Trust me, they've got to figure it out on their own time, or they never will."

And as he sees Johnny's hand inch closer to Kenshi's, finally overlapping the tattoos and interlocking their fingers, Kung Lao thinks that maybe the agony won't last much longer.

[timetravellibrarian]

Sanji x reader

Some thoughts on Sanji.

Sanji x femreader

_________________________________________

What happens when a simp meets another simp.

Sanji's advances toward women were never really taken seriously or even paid attention to.

He mostly cooked and waited tables at the Baratie, occasionally kicking ass if needed to. One thing he wasn't expecting was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen – you– enter through the doors along with a green-haired man and another gorgeous orange-haired woman.

"Hello ladies, what would you like to order?"When he had smoothly delivered a pickup line to both you and Nami– much to Zoro's annoyance at not getting proper service– he expected the usual his advance ignored.

"Well, I'd order you but you aren't on the menu." You threw back. It wasn't intentional. You weren't that much of a flirt, only used to doing or saying something to challenge or fluster others occasionally.

When the waiter in front of you seemed to have frozen on the spot and then smirked you were left with two words on your mind 'oh shit'.

Fast forward to the same man being in your crew, serving you guys the most delectable meals and kicking ass you were ready to give up on having a peaceful life.

Though he sent all his simpery to Robin and Nami he left you out of the loop. At first you didn't mind but overtime you questioned his actions. Wondering if he didn't try to flirt with you because of the first time you met or maybe he didn't think you were beautiful. Then you looked in the mirror and realised it must have been some other reason cause you knew you were drop dead gorgeous.

You weren't being vain, you knew you were pretty because you were told so by Apis when the crew helped her with Grandpa Ryu. Kids never lie about such matters.

Unbeknownst to you, Sanji didn't treat you the same because he knew that he wouldn't be able to save himself from loving you and confessing.

Your eyes, your voice, the grace in which you would do things. Even when you were being a menace to society. All of those he loved. You'd think he couldn't simp enough till he saw you not look glamorous and just chose to where baggy clothes. Not gonna lie he'd think you were gorgeous in a chicken costume, you never know with this man

As much as he was too shy to approach you he wasn't afraid yelling at Zoro to stop being so close to you.

You were close friends with Zoro. It couldn't be helped if you were the weapons expert, always checking if cannons were clear, swords were sharp and helping with new inventions with Franky.

So instead of noodle dancing around you he did the little things. Checking everything that he cooks didn't have anything you were allergic to. Always making sure you had a little lunch bag whenever everyone left to explore the island. Giving you extra cupcakes or other baked goods of you ever want more.

If you're a picky eater, he'd make sure to make your food according to your taste. Leaving multiple options on the dinner table for your palate.

He also made sure not to be away from your side too long. Wherever you turn you'd find a swirly-browed cook casually wrapping an arm round you to stave off any threats.

When you get sick he'd be calling in Chopper for any problem you would even slightly complain about. He'd be beside you 24/7 like you were dying or something. Which is kinda sweet but he was needed in the kitchen.

Overtime it just became normal for all this to happen. You got used to it. In fact I think y'all would be the kinda couple that just happened but then later confessed your undying love for each other.

To top it off, you were his number one supporter. Everytime you caught a glimpse of him fighting you'd cheer like you saw a celebrity. Some would swear that his behaviour rubbed off on you because you were also cheering and doing a noodle dance whenever he wore a different suit or set of clothes.

"YOU'RE DOING GREAT, SANJI-DARLING!" – 😍

But sometimes there were some downs in the relationship, for example his smoking.

You'd worry over him whenever he pulled out a cigarette one after the other in a day. Which led to you talking to him about it.

"If you don't atleast limit your smoking, you might as well be Black-lung Sanji."

He was a bit flabbergasted with the statement but he got what you meant.

Or if you had terrible coughs in reaction to his smoking he would try to smoke at a distance so he wouldn't and I quote, "Damage your gorgeous lungs"

As we all know Sanji, he didn't like women fighting too much or getting hurt but you immediately shut him down on that one, saying that as much as some of his morals were so gentlemanly and some old fashioned he had to accept that you wanted to fight. You wanted to help Luffy become king of the pirates. You wanted to be able reach your dream. So that needed you to be strong. That needed you to fight.

Since then he just aimed to be able to support you in any event that you needed help but he wouldn't be overbearing.

Would allow only you near the kitchen if you wanted to cook or bake something and you would allow only him near your forge/ workspace if he wanted to be near you.

Unfortunately for him you had connections wherever you went so you found out about his life in Peachy Island and never let him rest about it for a while.

And before anyone says anything about Fishman Island Sanji. Let's just say you were besties with Zoro there. Much to the cook's dismay.

"Stop being around that mosshead, Love."

"Stop losing blood around mermaids, Sweetheart."

Long story short, y'all were a confusing couple around that time. In fact, once he saw you were hanging out with the swordsman he would butt heads with the man. Leading you to pull him away before anything crazy happened.

Most times you told him to sit down and let you cook for the crew, especially if he was injured. He wouldn't allow it on account of Luffy's stomach being a literal black hole but you'd convince him otherwise.

When y'all fought together it was sure to leave the enemy in broken bones, hopes and dreams.

With Sanji kicking them away with his special moves and you pulling out a large cannon from the bag you carry around ( which was comically small but it was your magical inventory), nothing could stop you two. Sometime you'd trade opponents if he found himself fighting a woman.

Sometimes you helped him clean up after meals. Making sure that he didn't get all the work.

Most times he'd sit with you beneath the blanket of stars, his head on you chest/belly and you'd both share secrets about yourselves.

All in all, Sanji would love you to infinity and you'd love him just as much.

[starryevermore]

the shelf life of those fantasies have expired ✧ cardan greenbriar

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: cardan greenbriar x fae!fem!reader

request: Cardan angst fic? 👀 - anon

summary: the goddess of timing once found them beguiling. she said she was trying. was she lying? his ribs get the feeling she did.

word count: 1,977

warnings?: angst city™, no happy ending, dual povs, mutual pining, miscommunication, not proofread

PART TWO | PART THREE

When she stood at his side, looked so…natural at his side, it was easy to find you comparing yourself to Jude Duarte. No one understood why Cardan made her his seneschal, not when they had seemed bitter enemies before the Blood Crown was perched atop his head. You didn’t understand, either. The most Cardan had confined in you was that Jude helped him get the crown. Everything else remained a mystery. You would pass gossiping fae, those who sought insight behind the High King’s actions, and not have a single clue what to say. You wished you could lie, if just to be able to say anything but cryptic excuses for why Cardan stopped confiding in you. 

Once, you thought you might be the one standing at his side. Not as High Queen, of course—no one had ever dreamed that Cardan would sit on the throne. But he had been one of the few you would dare to call a friend. Before the crown was perched atop his head, you would’ve said he called you the same. Perhaps not in front of his other friends, or anyone else for that matter, but you used to be certain you meant something to him.

You weren’t sure why you were still here. The longer you stayed, the more your heart clenched in your chest. If you remained for just a moment longer, it would give out on you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jude bend down to whisper something to Cardan. You didn’t feel in control of your hand as it snatched a goblet of wine. It was heavy in your hand, but it managed to ground you. To give you a reason to not collapse where you stood. 

How had things changed so quickly? Just months ago, Cardan was sitting on your blanket during lessons, trying to see how many twigs he could stick in your hair before you would tell him to stop. You always tried to see how long it would take before he got bored of it. When did you become the one he grew bored of? 

“Dance with me.”

You lifted the goblet up, your head tilting back, finishing your wine in a single go. You set it down on a table and stalked away. Cardan followed after you. You spared a glance at the throne, where Jude still stood. Exasperation was clear on her face. Whether it was directed at you or Cardan, you couldn’t say for certain. You knew enough of her skill with a sword, though, to stay away from her bad side. 

“I am tired,” you said. 

Cardan’s hand caught your wrist. Jaw clenching and unclenching, you were forced to remain at the ridiculous party. You should’ve stopped coming to them months ago, but these events were the only opportunity to catch a glimpse at your friend-turned-king. 

“One dance,” he insisted. 

“I would prefer to leave.”

His hand slipped to your wrist. Fingers intertwined. When you tried to pull away again, his grip tightened. Your eyes lifted to meet his. If you shut them, you could imagine all of your dreams were coming true. “I would prefer you in my arms.”

“You’re drunk.”

Cardan’s grip slackened enough for you to wrench your hand free again. “Would you deny your king?”

The nonanswer was answer enough. Fae cannot lie. Cardan cannot deny his inebriation. He cannot deny that the one reason he would talk to you now was because his senses were dulled. Cardan Greenbriar does not consider you a friend any longer, so why would he ever seek you out sober? You wished you were drunk, too. It would hurt less. 

“Would my king force my hand?”

His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. The same lips a laugh fell from. You took a step back. He stepped toward you. “One dance,” he repeated. 

By now, an audience had formed. You cared little for fae gossip, but if you tried to leave now, it would be impossible to escape those who wanted to know why you would deny the king. You held your hand out and let him take it. You ignored the way your heart stuttered as his thumb ran over your knuckles. 

“One dance.”

The smile Cardan flashed you was enough to make your knees weak. For that, at least, you were grateful to lean against him as you danced. It was easy, then, to lose yourself to the music, to pretend that things were how they used to me. When Cardan was your friend, when you told each other everything. If you lost yourself enough, you could imagine a crown perched atop your head. Jude could still stand at Cardan’s side. She was a damned good seneschal. But you would be the one sitting on his other side. 

Cardan spun you around the floor, a smile on his face. You pretended it was because he was happy to have you in his arms. “I only ever see you at these parties,” he said. 

“To be a king is to have a busy life,” you said. 

“I would make time for you.”

He would, but he hasn’t. Was he waiting for an invitation? Cardan never used to before. There were countless times you would awake to find him waiting for you at the foot of your bed. He never liked having to wait for you to ask for his attention. There was a time he freely gave it. Had the Blood Crown changed who he was? Did it force him to realize he could do better than you? 

The song faded into another, and you slipped out of Cardan’s arms. His hands still chased after you, but you artfully dodged them. A lump formed in your throat that you were quick to swallow. Months ago, you would have dreamed about a moment like this. Now, it felt like Cardan was using as a placeholder. As a symbol for someone he would prefer to dance but would never give him the time of day. 

You looked at the throne again. Jude watched Cardan. Her face was unreadable. It was no secret that fae looked down upon humans. You never fancied yourself that sort of person. Certainly not when it came to Jude Duarte. It took a special sort of person, fae or not, to capture the interest of a prince. If there was anyone who deserved it, it was her. If she was the one that Cardan wanted at his side, you would not stand in the way. 

“It was nice to see you again,” you said, because you knew you would not see him after tonight.

“Have breakfast with me tomorrow. I’ll have the cooks make your favorites.”

You could not tell a lie, so you only offered a smile. “Sleep well, Cardan.”

Before he could say anything more, say anything that might delude you into staying, you turned and left. Not a single person stopped you along the way. Not a single one cared whether you stayed or left—least of all the one person you wished to beg for you. 

By the time the sun rose again, you had left Elfhame.

Cardan Greenbriar drummed his fingers against the wood table. He had invited you to breakfast, hadn’t he? Wracking his still wine-addled brain, he tried to recall the conversation with you. Yes, he certainly said breakfast. Or had it been lunch? Cardan spared a glance out the window. The sun was nearly at its peak. Had he asked you to breakfast or lunch? Had he asked you anything at all? 

At the sound of footsteps entering the room, Cardan jumped to his feet. When it turned out to only be Jude, he flopped back into his seat. He propped his elbow on the table, pressed his cheek into his fist. 

“I didn’t realize my presence was so disappointing,” Jude said. Her eyes swept across the table, at the two place settings and the untouched food. The one thing that had moved was Cardan’s goblet, which had been refilled minutes earlier. “She didn’t come.”

Cardan gestured at the empty seat across from him. 

“Are you certain you asked her?” 

He nodded.

“And she said yes?”

Cardan began to say an exasperated yes, that he wasn’t an idiot, but as he replayed the events from the night before, he wasn’t so sure. “I asked her to breakfast,” he said, because he was certain of that. Jude arched a brow. “…and she told me to sleep well.”

Jude ran a hand over her face. “I knew you were hopeless, but I didn’t imagine you were a lost cause. Really, how did you manage to be with anyone?”

“I was a prince. They just fell into my lap.”

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t fae, because then I could believe that was a lie,” Jude said. She looked over at the empty seat. The seat that should have been filled by you. “I’m going to send the Ghost to see where she is. Perhaps she was too drunk last night to remember you invited her, or maybe her days are mixed up.”

Cardan frowned at the untouched food. “Maybe she realized she could do better than me.”

Jude reached for his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Cardan lifted his cheek from his fist and pressed it against her hand. If he shut his eyes, he could pretend it was you offering him comfort. “Whatever her reason, we’ll bring her here. We’ll figure things out.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her,” Cardan admitted. 

“We won’t let it come to that. I won’t let it come to that.”

An hour later, the Ghost returned. The words still echoed in his head. She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. He had gone to your home and found it empty. Everything important to you had been packed and taken away. The Ghost lied to him, of course. Well, perhaps it wasn’t a lie, since the Ghost didn’t know its importance. But you left one thing behind. 

Cardan stood in your bedroom, staring at your vanity. It had been cleared of your favorite jewelry and other pretty things you adorned yourself with. It was empty, except for the ring that lay on its marble top.

Jude once told him, when he admitted your feelings for you, about how some humans would gift their beloved a ring as promise of their love. One ring as a promise of monogamy, another as a promise of marriage, and a final ring as a promise of eternal love. Cardan had taken great care in selecting a ring for you, bearing in mind your affinity toward certain metals and specific cuts of stone. He thought it was perfect. When he presented it to you, after he had been crowned High King, he told you he picked it especially for you. You smiled and slipped it on your finger, said it was perfect.

If it was so perfect, why did you leave it behind to collect dust? 

Cardan picked up the ring. A part of him wanted to fling it across the room. If you were rejecting his love, then that was the least the ring deserved. He wanted the stone to shatter and the metal to warp. He wanted to reduce it to dust. He offered you his love, and you left it, and him, behind. But Cardan couldn’t find it in him to throw you away. 

He slipped the ring onto his littlest finger. He was going to find you. He was going to find you, and drag you back to Elfhame and put that ring back on your finger where it belonged. You might have left him behind, but he wouldn’t let you stay away. 

By the time the sun set, he had given orders to bring you home. 

PART TWO | PART THREE

[cursedonyx]

How the HL Cast Act When They’re Drunk 🍻

Sebastian Sallow

This lad has three main modes when he’s had a few to drink, and it’s all entirely dependent on how he was feeling beforehand. He will either be the sweetest, cuddliest little snugglebug you’ve ever met, who hugs anyone and everyone regardless of how well he knows them and tells everyone he loves them (unless he’s in an established relationship, then his partner is the only one who receives such ardent affection), or he could be the life and soul of the party, challenging everyone to dares, games and other challenges, accepting pretty much all dares for a laugh, encouraging people to get up and dance and have fun, telling outrageous jokes and more… Or, he will be sullen, moody, and prone to fights. It’s best not to let Sebastian drink too much if he’s in a grump, because it won’t end well.

He's got a pretty good memory for his drunk antics and never gets blackout. This is useful for both making sure his friends are safe and for embarrassing everyone with tales of their conduct the next day, but it’s a double-edged sword, as he will remember everything he did as well.

Ominis Gaunt

A charming man at the best of times, drunk Ominis is a shameless flirt, and will make pretty much everyone fall in love with him at some point during the course of the evening, regardless of which way they swing. He’s got a pretty good head on his shoulders and tends to toe the line of tipsy and inebriated quite well, but if he pitches a bit too far and ends up sauced, his inhibitions are going to go right out the window. He’ll be the first to dance on a tabletop, he swears far more frequently and is prone to showing off a bit, though he still draws the line at public nudity, which is a shame. Chances are, if there’s a piano nearby, he’ll play for everyone with exceptional skill and, if the stars align, he’ll even sing, which is a rare treat for all involved. Mans got the voice of an angel. If he’s in an established relationship, he’s far more comfortable with PDAs and will be much more open to experimenting with his partner once they’re alone.

Though he rarely gets blackout drunk, Ominis can struggle to remember all the details of what he got up to if he has one too many, which without fail will leave him utterly mortified and swearing never to drink again, even if he had a good time. It’ll take a week or two before he’s ready to even have a glass of wine with dinner if he’s embarrassed himself.

Garreth Weasley

Garreth is usually the one to bring his experimental brews to the party and he’s usually swiftly banned from wherever the drinks are being kept. Regardless, after a few bevvies he’s loud, boisterous, and usually found challenging Sebastian to various dares and competitions. A cheerful and popular chap, Garreth is likely to get people singing along to various songs he knows, or ones he’s made up on the spot. Whilst not as tall as Leander, Garreth is a big lad and quite strong too, so any of the girls present might find themselves picked up without warning and swung all about as he tries to dance, and one of his favourite memories of a previous party is trying to pick up all the girls at once and immediately falling over, ending up buried under a pile of laughing women. If Garreth is in an established relationship, very little changes, but you can be safe in the knowledge that even though he's flirting, that’s as far as it will ever go.

Garreth never gets hangovers, no matter how much he drinks, and he’ll be the first one awake the next day, helping to clean up or cook breakfast or make everyone a strong cup of tea.

Leander Prewett

Bless his heart, Leander tries very hard to fit in with his friends and as such will likely end up drinking too much too quickly, meaning he’s usually the first one to suffer the worst effects of drinking. That said, he handles it well, and after chundering once or twice he’s usually ready to keep going. Being a gangly lad, his sense of balance is terrible when he’s blotto, and he’ll trip on a bit of dense air if there’s nothing else to fall over. If the others manage to keep his drinking at a reasonable pace, Leander will often be found trying to flirt with everyone, and though he doesn’t have Ominis’ natural talent for it, he’s a surprisingly smooth talker when he’s not worried about being rejected, and he’s pretty much guaranteed to go home with someone at the end of the night. That is, if he’s single. If Leander is in an established relationship, he’ll follow his partner around, making sure they’re comfortable, warning off potential challenges to his territory, and he won’t even look at another girl.

Leander’s memory of the night before will be hazy at best, and though he knows full well he probably embarrassed himself, he’ll choose to believe he didn’t, so long as no one got hurt.

Amit Thakkar

Amit doesn’t drink much at all, but when he does and has one too many, he’s going to be talking at a mile a minute about whatever’s on his mind, whether that’s his memoirs, his gobbledegook, his stargazing, other people at the party, who he fancies, any gossip he’s overheard, and on and on and on and on. At some point during the night, he stops talking, sits down in the nearest seat, curls up and goes to sleep, no matter how noisy it is, and it’s pretty much like someone flipped a switch. You could be sitting on the sofa with him listening to him babble, then literally a second later he’s out for the count, and he probably won’t wake up for a good few hours, so move him somewhere where he won’t be trodden on. If Amit is in an established relationship, nothing changes about his drunk behaviour, because he’s endearingly loyal at the best of times.

Amit remembers well who he spoke to and what about, but rarely does he realise how much he gabbles on. He tends to take this with a reasonable degree of humility, but aside from hoping he didn’t bore anyone, he’s content that he didn’t embarrass himself.

Andrew Larson

He’s going to be mooning after everyone pretty the moment he gets trashed, and if Ominis is playing the piano, that lad better hope he’s got his girlfriend nearby because Andrew’s going to try his luck and be deeply disappointed by the inevitable rejection. Andrew lives by his emotions and will cry at the drop of a hat or a picture of a cat if he’s had enough to drink, but he will be laughing seconds later if someone falls over or tells him a joke. If the mood takes him, he’ll likely be having long, philosophical debates with anyone who’ll listen (most likely Amit) and he’s prone to wandering off at random moments because he saw something interesting and wants to go on an adventure. He needs a minder. If Andrew is in an established relationship he’s less likely to be a liability because his Alice in Wonderland moments are going to be focused entirely on his partner (and Ominis will remain unaccosted).

Andrew sways between having a good memory for his antics and remembering absolutely nada, sometimes in the same night. Parts of the evening will be clear as day, and parts will be obscured completely. He doesn’t tend to feel too embarrassed for himself, but more for others because it’s a guarantee someone else is going to have done something worse.

Natsai Onai

Even hammered, Natty is the mum friend. She’s the one making sure everyone drinks water in between their booze-infused bevvies, helping people up if they fall over, cleaning up puke and intervening in any brewing fights. Left to her own devices when no one needs her help, she’s sneakily encouraging Garreth to sing rude, memorable shanties, Poppy to climb the walls and jump on people, and Sebastian to run around the garden in the buff because if he doesn’t then Leander will. A master of planting ideas in drunk people’s heads, she usually makes sure things don’t go too far while masterminding entertainment for everyone involved. If Natty is in an established relationship, she’ll still be doing all of the above, but her partner needs to steer her more into the ‘having fun’ side of things so people don’t come to rely on her too much.

She’s got a reasonable memory for drunk happenings, but as she usually doesn’t embarrass herself, she’s pretty good to go the morning after. That said, if Natty does something embarrassing, she goes the whole hog, like the time she got stuck on the roof with only a tea towel for cover. That gets brought up a lot, and she wants to sink into the ground every time it does.

Poppy Sweeting

If you thought Poppy was a nutter beforehand, just wait until she’s got some beers in her. Poppy will be the first to try swinging from the chandelier, the first to encourage everyone to do shots, the first to run around the room with her shirt off, the real life and soul of the party. Once she’s drunk, she’s feral, and will climb over everyone and everything. Once she’s spent her boundless energy, she becomes incredibly cuddly, and if she chooses you to cuddle good luck getting her off you. Regardless of who you’re both respectively dating, you may find yourself going home with Poppy and her partner if the two of you aren’t together and she chooses you to snuggle. It’s not that she’s trying to get you in bed, she just loves cuddles and you smell safe.

She remembers nothing. Absolutely zilch once her blood alcohol level reaches a certain point. No embarrassment either, no matter what she did, she’s just happy everyone had fun.

Imelda Reyes

Competitive as ever, Imelda will likely be challenging people to drinking competitions (and usually Leander’s the only one to take her up on it, most people know better). Imelda has the blood of a Scot (and likely a Viking too) so she can outdrink almost everyone with relative ease. That said, once she’s drunk, she’s drunk. Swaying all over the place, her accent almost incomprehensible, and prone to getting into fights, Imelda is either the worst person to drink with, or the best. If she decides she’s looking after you that night, you’ll not have to worry about a thing, this girl would fight off a dragon for you. If you want to do something, whether it’s playing a certain game, talking to a certain someone, or just chilling outside for a bit, Imelda will make it happen. If you’re not the Chosen One, you can expect things to be very chaotic around Imelda when she gets cunted. If Imelda has a partner, her Chosen One will always be them.

Imelda’s memory is crystal, and no matter what she did, she feels no shame. Why would she? She was only looking out for her bestie or lover, and if someone got offended over that, well then that’s their problem. She’s not responsible for other people’s emotional reactions, after all.

Duncan Hobhouse

Will boast about being able to outdrink Imelda, then throw up and pass out after two butterbeers. Best to move him outside, because he’s going to shit his pants.

Masterlist

[hopelessromantic5]

Arthur isn’t exactly stealthy when he sees something he likes.

Those who had known Arthur for most of his life also know that when something captures his attention, that’s it.

It takes over everything.

First, at five, it was horse back riding. He would spend all day in the stables, learning everything he could about the majestic beasts. He would ride as often as his father allowed.

Then when he joined the official knights in training at eight summers, he became thirsty for success. He wanted to be the best, unbeatable.

And so, he was. He became a well sharpened blade neatly tucked into his father’s arsenal.

Nothing came close to his love for a sword until he was thirteen, and he met a girl named Druella. Dru was the younger sister of one of Arthur’s fellow knights, yet still a few years ahead of him.

He would watch her walk to and from town, every day, thinking how beautiful she looked in her finery, how her hair was always perfect, never one out of place.

This love lasted the least amount of time, because while Arthur claimed to himself that he loved her, he’d never actually spoken to her.

When he finally got up the nerve to introduce himself, and she did nothing but sneer at him and walk away, he finally let his silly little crush rest in the dirt under his riding boots.

Years went by. The citizens of Camelot and especially the staff of the castle, continued to watch Arthur grow and mature and come into his own thoughts. His own beliefs.

Still, dancing with his sword held the biggest place in his heart.

That was until a fateful day in beautiful spring time.

There were some familiar faces in the square that day, watching on as a boy intervened with the Prince’s ridiculous bullying.

First, they were thankful for it.

And then they all witnessed the moment Prince Arthur laid eyes on this boy, and that was it.

They’d seen it before, and this was no different.

Arthur Pendragon had found a new obsession.

Uther didn’t know what he was signing the entire kingdom up for when he bestowed Merlin with such a privilege as being the prince’s manservant. He probably thought nothing on it, as often as Arthur fired manservants, surely this one will be gone faster than the others.

Boy, was he mistaken.

Arthur lied to himself about it for some time. Acting as if his servant was the worst he’d ever seen, or how he hated to have to show this boy how to do something simple.

What betrayed him were his eyes, they followed Merlin everywhere in the room. Watching him do every task, standing to aid when it was needed, even if it came with a huff of exasperation for show.

Everyone could see it. Hell, even Leon caught onto it. The only people who had yet to realize were the prince himself, and the boy. Merlin. He was as oblivious to Arthur’s eyes as Arthur was to Merlin’s sickeningly sweet face when the prince’s back was turned.

Merlin was usually very observant.

But when it came to Arthur, he had a blind spot.

Perhaps this is why Arthur found out the big secret a few weeks after Merlin arrived in Camelot.

He’d made a habit of entering his room quietly, so he might see Merlin without being seen himself. Though, Arthur doesn’t acknowledge that’s the reason, it definitely is.

This particular day, practice ended early on account of the storm rolling in. Tiny drops of water were already covering the ground, packing the dirt into stone.

As he silently entered his own chambers, he heard humming. Knowing it must be Merlin. Who else would be in his room humming?

The Prince stayed partially hidden by the chest of drawers nearest the door. Merlin was putting tunics away in the cupboard. His hands were gentle with them, like they were precious. Even if he did it in a bit of a hurry, seemingly.

Merlin must’ve felt a draft or remembered the rain, because he stopped his humming turning to the fire place, and without lifting a single finger or uttering a word, he lights the fire.

By looking at it.

Arthur first thought his sight deceived him but there was no denying that he’d just seen Merlin’s eyes turn gold. A blinding golden light that can only come from something divine.

The Prince tries to even out his breathing so as not to give away his presence. It’s not that he’s fearful, merely caught off guard, which he tried never to be. Arthur was almost a grown man, and he’d met people in his time that told him he could be different than Uther. He could rule a different Kingdom.

And maybe that all starts with this strange boy that fell from the sky into Arthur’s world.

The Prince had hardly seen Merlin do anything with that kind of skill or confidence. Arthur had been around enough dark sorcerers to know that even the powerful ones need words, crystals, a big book with lots of words he can’t read.

Merlin had done this like it was nothing.

Just how powerful was he?

[mediacircuspod]

Obsessed with this scene and will be forever; A very long meta.

Your ‘exactly’ and my ‘exactly’ are different ‘exactly’s’

The Scene.

Crowley’s exactly means “We need to be safe and together and away from danger. Let me keep you safe.”

Aziraphale’s exactly means “We need to help because it’s the right thing to do, and we fix things when we’re together.”

Note though, that this is the only time they clarify with each other, and they don’t actually say what they mean, they say what they want to do.

“Let’s drop him off and leave him.” Vs. “Let’s take him in and help him.” 

The dissection of this also poses the question, Why does Aziraphale think helping Gabriel is the right thing to do?

And the answer is; Crowley gives him the courage to do what Aziraphale thinks is the right thing and not what heaven decrees is good.

And we can come to this conclusion because Aziraphale for the first time ever, immediately and without hesitation, goes against heaven’s will, without having to be convinced or going through a cycle of indecision or guilt. This is… A. Big. Deal.

Season One. 

Heaven’s good requires Armageddon to be complete, and under-way. And what does Aziraphale first say about it? “It’s all going to be rather lovely.” “I am not interested[in stopping Armageddon with you].” 

Aziraphale loves the earth in this scene. He loves the people on it. He loves all the creatures great and small. He loves Crowley, too. And he still refuses. He needs Crowley to convince him, and even then he still thinks heaven will see sense once he fixes everything. He still believes that right, and good, and holy are the same thing. Even if sometimes he doesn’t agree with it. 

Now, let’s go through some history. Between the two of them, for sure, but mainly Aziraphale’s. 

An act of defiance; The giving away of a flaming sword. The guilt and worry Aziraphale feels after giving Adam and Eve a chance at survival is not something he gets over quickly. He worries that it was the wrong thing even though it felt right. And the problem isn’t the system that would make doing a good deed the wrong thing, the problem is him. The problem is Aziraphale.

Compliance; The flood. The crucifixion. “God’s a bit tetchy” he says before Mesopotamia is decimated. Aziraphale is clearly uncomfortable with the will of heaven here, but he does not disobey. He does what he is told because the will of God is good and right and correct. He does this same thing with the same reasoning during the Crucifixion of Jesus in 33 AD. Crowley gives us context with a few lines, “Your lot put him up there.” “I showed him all the Kingdoms of the world.” We see a demon who still doesn’t understand why good is so cruel, and knowledge is so evil. And we see an angel that refuses to be conflicted despite his own inherent morality. Because Aziraphale understands why Crowley has questions, he has them too by now. However, Aziraphale has something Crowley didn’t; he has the knowledge of what good intentions and well-meaning questions get an angel.

Doing bad in order to do good. Let’s talk about the Job mini-sode, because let’s be completely real; I’ll never be done talking about the Job mini-sode. 

Aziraphale starts this episode thwarting evil. Something he is not conflicted about. You have to thwart evil when you’re good. That’s the whole dance at this point. Crowley stops the dance though, he presents a permit. A permit from a higher authority. Meaning that Crowley, the demon, is performing the will of not only Hell, but also of Heaven. A theme that IS THE WHOLE POINT OF SEASON 1. For all their want of a war, heaven and hell want the exact same thing. 

Crowley even states, “The real ‘Big One’ will be between ‘all of them’ and ‘all of us’”. At the end of Season 1 Episode 6.

Aziraphale is horrified by this “permit”. And he goes to check on the validity in heaven, and well. He finds out that it’s real. He doesn’t go higher after that, because he knows you don’t question. He knows he can’t ask why? So he goes to Crowley. If Crowley doesn’t do the evil thing, then Aziraphale doesn’t have to break the rules to thwart it. And well, even though Crowley is a demon, Aziraphale doesn’t actually see him do demonic things all that much. Aziraphale still thinks that Crowley acts like an angel. He’s even starting to think that Crowley is on the side of good. Good being heaven. Crowley denies this, but Aziraphale doesn’t listen. Crowley says, “Kill the blameless Children of Blameless Job” and Aziraphale isn’t going to stop him. The demon has a permit after all. But then something miraculous happens. 

A crow, bleats.

Aziraphale looks at a demon defying heaven, defying hell, and doing good. He doesn’t know it yet, but this is his first glimpse of their side. At this point, Aziraphale still thinks Crowley is a little bit on heavens side, because the demon is a little bit good. But then Crowley keeps saving the Children. Crowley stands before angels and he lies to save the children. He does something bad to do something good. And then.

So does Aziraphale. 

An angel lies to save children. And then that angel thinks that decision is his undoing. He readies himself for a fall that never comes. Because Crowley is going to keep his secret. This is where Aziraphale once again starts acting with his own moral code. It’s important to remember something important though. Aziraphale still thinks he’s the one who’s wrong. Not heaven. The birth of “their side” coincides with the saving of Job’s children. But there’s a problem. 

It doesn’t mean the same thing to each of them. To Crowley it means and end to his loneliness. To Aziraphale it means the beginning of his millennia long struggle of reckoning good with right. Their “exactly’s” don’t match, and they don’t clarify with one another.

The Book and the Bandstand; Aziraphale doesn’t tell Crowley. He doesn’t say, “Let’s go save the world, I found the anti-christ” He says, “Why would I know his shoe-size?” And Crowley doesn’t suspect a thing. Ouch. They disagree on how to continue. Crowley wants to cut their losses and run away. He wants to do this because he thinks they’ve already lost. And Aziraphale doesn’t give him a reason to hold on because despite everything, Aziraphale wants to be good in the heavenly way. He wants to give heaven a chance to do good, too. A higher authority will surely agree with him. And now, he has the courage to ask. Only after he is turned down by heaven does he make his own decision. He steps into ‘their side’ safely, because Crowley had built it that way. 

And he saves the world. With Crowley, and the Anti-Christ, and a series of human beings. 

Aziraphale retreats to the safety that Crowley has built for them and that he himself has built as well, despite constantly looking over this shoulder. And he finds comfort there. It is the entire reason he finds himself comfortable making his own choices in Season 2, regarding what is good. It’s why he helps Gabriel, and it’s how he gets Crowley to do it too. 

You might even say that Aziraphale embraces ‘their side’ more than ever in Season 2. He includes Crowley in all of his plans, excitedly tells him information he finds, calls the bookshop, the Bentley, and their existence, ours. Oppose this directly with Crowley who, in the name of keeping Aziraphale safe, actually just keeps him in the dark(The threat of extreme sanctions, Gabriel’s trial, etc.)

Exactly vs Exactly; AND STILL THE ENDING MAKES SENSE. I have a whole meta HERE about the reason Aziraphale made the decision he did, but I want to talk about it a little bit more. Because it’s the same problem. Their “exactly’s” are different, and neither of them asks the other to explain why. 

In this particular case of the ending scene of Season 2, in place of the phrase “exactly” they use the word “together”. 

Aziraphale wants Crowley with him in heaven, because they fix things when they’re together. And Aziraphale has faith they they can fix heaven. “We can be together” is how he presents it to Crowley. Crowley rightly sees this as naive, and he’s upset that Aziraphale thinks he wants to be something he’s not anymore.

He finds it hurtful that Aziraphale wants him to change. 

“We can go off together” Is what Crowley counters. He says all of this is awful, please let us go off somewhere the danger isn’t. Let me keep you safe. Aziraphale doesn’t want to run away. He wants to save the world again. He wants to save it with Crowley. He wants them both to be good, too.

IT’S THE SAME ARGUMENT. 

Only Crowley doesn’t let Aziraphale win this time. Aziraphale isn’t right this time. And Crowley isn’t wrong. (I mean I don't think he's right either, they need to find a compromise that isn't the toxicity of heaven and isn't the loneliness of running away.) This time he says, “It’s finally too much, you’re finally asking me to do too much.” Crowley for the first time ever, when asked to make the decision between the two of them, chooses himself. Neither of them explain themselves, and neither of them asks the other to do it either. Because asking questions has always been dangerous for both of them. Anyway, this season makes my brain buzz and I love the ending so much.

[desceros]

oops you got something between your fingers there, let me get that for you real quick <3

evil evil evil evil evil evil strikes back out of self defense

It's not too uncommon that you wait for him to come home. Not only has his shitty apartment all but become a second home to you, but he's started making little jokes that you aren't completely sure are really jokes about you moving in with him instead.

As such, he doesn't say anything when he comes in through the door and finds you sitting at his kitchen table, scrolling through your phone looking at the cute dog pictures April's sending you from her latest venture to make ends meet as a dog walker. Not until you look up and smile as you see him, putting your phone down because he's infinitely more interesting.

"Why aren't you sitting on the couch where it's softer?" he asks, slowly stripping the outside world from himself as he gets close. His swords. His belt of medical supplies you keep stocked up nicely for him. A bag whose contents you don't know, but judging from the care with which he puts it down on the counter, you suspect is quite valuable.

"I thought you'd be hungry when you got back," you tell him, gesturing at a tupperware of food you'd brought over from the lair. Leo still doesn't have a decent set of pans, and you've forbidden him from buying any since you can cook just as well at the lair and bring things over. (You're surprised he's held out this long; though you suspect it may be because he has a not-too-incorrect mental image of Donnie's pissy face when he smells you cook something nice and learns it's for Leonardo, not him.)

Leo sits at the table adjacent to you, popping off the lid. It's still warm, thankfully, and his face gets a little softer when he starts to dig in like he's starving. He doesn't compliment it, but you don't need him to. The way he goes quiet, not even speaking in the interest of eating the stir fry you'd tossed together, is all the feedback you need.

Smiling fondly, you grab into the bag you'd brought and pull out an orange. Slowly, you start to peel it, piece by piece. The oil of the rind clings to your skin, making the air between you fragrant with citrus. All the way down to the juicy flesh, until you split it in half, then pluck out a single piece.

Reaching out between Leo's bites, you hold the piece between your fingers. He stares at it for a moment, glancing between it and your face, then opens his mouth so you can slide it inside.

"This was a really yummy batch," you tell him as he chews, eyes falling down to where you peel away another piece. It has a little string on it, which you pick away lovingly before holding out to him just like the one before. "Nice and juicy. I was surprised, considering the time of year."

Leo takes the second piece in his mouth, and the next time you look down to the orange to pull him away another piece, you feel the weight of his stare on the side of your face and the apartment falls silent. No longer do his chopsticks scratch away at the tupperware.

Still, you persist, relentless in your affectionate care. "I've been saving the peels to make a nice cleaning spray. Apparently, you can put them in a bottle with a bit of vinegar, and it smells really nice and works pretty well," you continue to ramble. You hold out another piece. He leans in, his teeth finding the soft flesh with a heavier purpose now. You avoid meeting his gaze, torn between enjoying this little dance and not wanting it to end too quickly.

Another piece hovers in the air, and this time, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and holds it in place. You look up, startled, only to stare with wide eyes as he slides your fingers and the orange slice into his mouth together. His tongue finds the fruit and brings it to his teeth, splitting it open and coating his mouth and your fingers with its sweet juice. Messily, it beads down your palm, to your wrist, tickling even as your breath catches in your throat when he glides his tongue along the webbing of your fingers to catch its origin. Hot, wet, he licks at your skin, suckling the love off of you like it's the waters of the fountain of life itself.

Your mouth falls open as his teeth scrape at your palm, the hitched breath coming out of your lungs on a jagged sound that sounds a bit like a whine in the dead air between you. Mouth curling into a smug smirk, he kisses down the line of the orange juice to your pulse, bending your hand back and sinking his teeth into your wrist hard enough to leave a mark.

It's then that you finally meet his gaze, and see in it the dangerous flame you'd stoked. You swallow thickly, pressing your thighs together beneath the table. Silly you to forget that it's always the little gestures that drive him the most mad.

Trailing his tongue up your hand to flick it between your fingers, Leo groans, squeezing his eyes shut like the taste of you wounds him. Maybe it does, in a way, you think, feeling the almost painful ache of your own arousal that he so easily calls to the surface.

Licking your lips, clumsy from the rushing blood beneath your skin when he slides your fingers into his mouth and begins to suck on them while bobbing his head slowly, you reach with shaking fingers to pull away another piece of the orange. When Leo looks at you—no doubt visibly affected, dilated pupils, bitten lips, chest rising with your accelerated breath—he chuckles before sinking his teeth into the flesh of your palm, lathing it with his tongue before he releases you.

"How many more do you think you'll be able to share before you break for me, mi corderita?" he asks slyly, taking the piece from you and resting it on your spit-soaked fingers, gliding them into his mouth to begin the process all over again to send you into a hazy, needy state.

The answer, you'll later bemoan as you stare, stunned, completely fucked out, at the ceiling of his bedroom with a familiar full-body ache and the smell of oranges strong in your nose, is one.

[batchilla]

Fata Morgana Chapter Three - A Choice Made

Roman Sionis, being of a family as old as your own, is a marvellous dancer. You can’t help but grant him that, at least. “You dance well.” You say to break the silence. “Easily done, with a partner as skilled and beautiful as yourself, Princess. Though you seemed a good deal happier dancing with the Captain.” You raise an eyebrow and take a breath as you move your shoulders in anticipation of the game, and how aggressively the Earl wishes to play it. Part of you is almost happy. You often scheme, play the innocent doe eyed ninny. To be openly called on your behaviour is thrilling as it is off putting.

“Captain Todd-Wayne is a dear friend. I imagine you, more than most of the gentry must have been thrilled by his return. You served with him at the Battle of Arkham did you not?” Roman tilts his head “I did not serve, my place was in the advisory tent. But yes, we indeed were both present on that glorious day.” “A day that served you most … auspiciously then, as a man who never took up the sword.” As your partner waltzes you around the room in a twirling pattern with your fellow dancers, he laughs, deep and from the chest. “Indeed I did. Though I do try not to brag about it. Pride, they say, goes before the fall.” 

He can’t help but feel grateful. It would not do to break down so publicly. He only hoped no one had seen his brother escort him aside. That his princess had been too wrapped up in her new fiance to notice. “Jason?” his brother asks, pressing a stemmed glass into his hands, which he drinks without hesitation. “Don’t fall in love.” He says with a humourless laugh. “And not with someone above your station.” Tim just looked at him. Often Jason hated that look Tim fixed people with. As though he was a sheet of tax information for the local peasantry. As though all his problems and fears and ambitions and joys were simple data that while he could never make complete sense of where to his little brother completely obvious. Once, there was a time Jason would have thought he hated Tim. He’d never felt the Duke loved him as he had the others. Dick, the heir who had come to the Duke through great tragedy, and became a golden example of the Wayne name. Then him. He’d been robbing the stables. He’d expected to lose his hand. He’d been taken in by a man spiralling, in need of a project. He’d been given status, education, all the things that by birth he’d never ought to have. Then he’d given him a sword and sent him away. 

He’d taken in Tim. A boy of noble birth who he’d always seemed, in Jason’s eyes, one he’d always favoured. Then the bastard. Jason had no personal objections to young Damian - at least not by reason of his birth. He owed his mother … everything. But death - because he had died, surely, that day - had a way of giving perspective. 

Damn the Duke's favour - his brothers were his brothers. “Her Highness?” Tim says, that analysing look falling away to sympathy. “Her Highness.” He concurs. “If I may… While you may not be the heir… you are a war hero. Our father would surely grant funds in your name enough to persuade the King. You could be wed.” “She’s engaged.” Jason manages, the words poison in his throat. “Except … there’s been no such announcement. Not yet. Deals, maybe. But no formal engagement. There is—-” “Roman Sionis will not take well to a slight so great.” “Why do you care so deeply about the opinion of Sionis?” “In truth… I have no proof. But whatever happened to me, I fear he was its mastermind.” Tim’s expression darkens. “I’ll see what I can uncover. But you have to understand… It's been so long now. If no witness came forward then, it’s unlikely I’ll get far.” “I know. But if he does manage to wed her…” Jason shakes his head. “There’s not a damn thing I can do to save her from this.” He fights a laugh, not of humour but of despair. 

“And the worst thing is, I could have. True, I’m not worthy of her. She deserves someone better. Someone softer and kinder and untainted by atrocities. But at least if it were me I’d know she was safe. She was loved. Because… unworthy as I am, content as I ought be to be her shield and her sword… I love her. And she’s trapped with that fucking SCOUNDREL, and I can’t do a damn thing about it and maybe once I could have but it’s too late—-” His rant is cut short by Tim crushing his ribs into a hug. “It likely is.” he acknowledges “but give me a chance to see what I can do.”

As your partner waltzes you around the room in a twirling pattern with your fellow dancers, he laughs, deep and from the chest. “Indeed I did. Though I do try not to brag about it. Pride, they say, goes before the fall.” You smile in return, and it does not meet your eyes. From his smug tone, lack of respect for your station or for the Captain, ostentatious suit, and general air, this is the least humble man you have beheld with the lone exception of your father. But ego on its own is a failing you could live with in a future husband. What you could not live with was the cruelty in his eyes, in his toothed smile and too strong grip. What you can not live with is the fact that Captain Todd-Wayne had been dancing nearby until a mere few moments ago… until something had terrified him. He stands stone like, staring at the Earl. You trip, tearing the hem of your dress on your heel “oh. Oh my how silly of me. If you would kindly excuse me my lord… If you could accept such a clumsy partner at the next ball I would gladly make it up, but I ought to exit before anyone notices.” The Earl kisses your hand in parting. “But of course, but of course. How can I complain to have the choicest of partners on yet another occasion?”. You cannot afford to go to Jason’s side. The scandal would be unavoidable then. But still, you are glad to see a young man with the Wayne’s distinctly black hair. Even for one who adopted his heirs, the Duke Wayne had managed that many of his brood resembled him. One Mister Drake-Wayne, you believed. Either way, you had work to do. The two people you cared for and trusted most closely in all the world feared this man. You needed to discover the why. And more importantly then why was the how. Stephanie, her quarrel with him you never knew. Captain Todd-Wayne is not a man who fears easily, and he fears Sionis. You slip out of the ballroom with a whisper to a footman that you need to retire, and not to allow concern should your parents enquire. You can’t afford to panic. You need to think. Roman Sionis had been present at Arkham the day the Captain disappeared. He had directly benefited from that disappearance. That on its own was fortune. But add to the evidence the Captains fear? The earl had done something to your beloved. As you venture back into the corridors of the palace with each step your walk becomes ever closer to a run, until you are running indeed. You lift your skirts, the back of your skirt trailing behind you as you race deeper and deeper into the castle. Golden light from the torches lining the walls bathes your skin and casts dramatic shadows. You have to hurry. You figure you have ten minutes from when you left the ball before Sir Rayner, your guard on duty noticed you had fled. Or, if Sir Todd recovered before then, he’d alert the castle guards at once. Ten minutes till your absence was noted, maybe five more till you were caught if you can keep this pace.  Because you refuse. You refuse. You will not be petals in the wind a second more. You are a hurricane. And god himself can’t protect those who’d try to control your path. 

Fate be damned, illusions and hope could go… could … could go fuck themselves.

You were in charge. And you were getting married.

And you would choose your own goddamn groom. If you read this far, reblog. taglist:

@jasontoddproblems

@sunnie-angel

@stormz369

@love-theangel

@torchbearerkyle

@interwebseriesfan24

Honestly not entirely thrilled with this one, but I was at the point where if I couldn't post this chapter the series would rot and never be completed as I procrastinated and lost motivation. So. Here it is.

[snowmoonwrites]

Break Me Softly

Tokyo Debunker fic. Pairing: Kamurai Jin x MC/Reader

Smut, D/S, praise kink, got wholesome by the end, safewords, safe sane and consensual

It was one of the free nights that the academy allowed. Given that it was for a Halloween party that was organized off-campus with the Kamurai family’s money, it was near impossible not to allow students to attend. Aside from the academy it was also open for many more prestigious schools too, of course all participants were subjected to a thorough background check. No reason to put danger onto the general students’ life, or irritate the ghouls.

That’s how you found yourself in a, honestly, quite revealing dress which maybe could be said to resemble some witch outfit… but there was too little fabric for you to actually be sure about your assessment. Not like it mattered. The place is probably going to be reasonably dark to encourage students to dance. Maybe if you planned on bringing anyone back to your bed it would matter what exactly you are wearing. But, given that the only person you would want to bring back won’t be there, even though his family sponsors it… It really didn’t matter.

You have been in a relationship with the King of Ice for enough time to know that if Tohma didn’t physically force him out of his room, you will be left alone the whole night. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t the first it happened. You were a big girl.

That was what you said to yourself while drinking definitely non-alcoholic drinks and dancing with random people. It was quite a nice night. Then, over the shoulder of your dance partner, you saw the annoyed glint of icy-blue eyes drilling a hole into the boy. You didn’t even remember where he was from. Neither were you interested. But this. Oh, that dangerous glint in Kamurai Jin’s eyes. That started a fire in you. And you just loved to play with flames.

You let your hands caress the stranger’s shoulders as you leaned in closer, till their ear, little by little. Your body moved closer to his, pushing your breasts against his chest in your near-nothing clothing. Keeping up the eye-contact with Jin the whole time. In a blink he was next to you. You weren’t sure whether he used his sword, or he just walked really fast. Not that it mattered. In a second you were buried in his chest as he rumbled into your ear.

“We are going to my room.”

As usual, it was far from a request. Not like you cared in that moment. You were on fire, and the murderous gaze that he showed your dance partner only fanned the flames higher. In seconds you were back in his room, the chilly temperature not even registering on your heated skin. He sat on his bed, all nonchalant seeming now that he had you where he, but in reality you both wanted.

“Kneel” came the irrefutable order fueled by the sliver of skin contact left between your hands. 

You immediately dropped to your knees. Waiting for what he has planned for the night.

He looked at you, refraining from touching you for now.

“Was it fun?”

He didn’t have to elaborate. Your little scheme to set the fire of jealousy in him. Your little idea, which worked perfectly. You were actually pretty proud of yourself. It might have shown up on your face as he let out a chuckle.

“Shall I remind you who you belong to?” He didn’t wait for your answer as he reached out one elegant hand to make you look up at him. “How many do you deserve for this? One for each time that you touched him?  Answer honestly.” 

Your breath hitched. It was actually difficult to answer. Not because you didn’t know what he meant, but because you were so focused on Jin, you don’t even know how many times you touched that insignificant boy. You let his command wash over your memories, finding an acceptable answer for you.

“Twenty?”

His smirk got bigger as he let go of your chin.

“Get your upper half on the bed.” 

As you got into position, he lifted your skirt and let his fingers dig into your ass in a massaging manner to avoid causing serious harm. Once he was satisfied he got up from the bed.

“Count them out. Colour?”

“Green,” you breathed out. The second it was out of your mouth, his hand also came down in an arch onto one of  your cheeks. You yelped out, then remembering called out “One.”

With each slap you grew more conscious of the silence aside from your breathing and the sounds of the spanks. Jin didn’t say anything. As if he wasn’t even there. As you let yourself sink into the repetition, the burn, and the pleasure his absence was striking. He was never one to speak much, but he always let his presence known. This was punishment greater than ever.

By the tenth slap you were sobbing. Not from the pain. But from the culminating feelings. You couldn’t let yourself go like this. Stress coiled up in you as he refused to be more present. 

Another slap. “12”

You could feel yourself on the verge of panic. You couldn’t take this like this. As if it was someone else. If this went on you would lose yourself in a drop. But you were aware enough still.

“Yellow,” you cried enough. In the next second everything stopped and Jin sat on the bed in line of sight. Yellow: pause and discuss. He reached his hand towards you, not touching you yet. The ball was in your court now.

You grabbed his hand, letting him pull you onto his lap. You felt his straining erection but knew he wouldn’t do anything until you gave him consent for anything more than cuddling. He gently stroked your hair and back with one hand while the other rested on your hip. He waited until your breathing returned to normal before asking anything. 

“What went wrong?” Never one to mince his words. It was reassuring in itself. He didn’t sound angry. Not even a slight irritation in his words remained from the start of their evening.

“I… You weren’t there,” it was hard to put into words, the absence of him. You tried again, “You weren’t talking. I couldn’t see you. As if it could have been anyone else,” your eyebrows furrowed, you were still frustrated with not being able to convey it perfectly. His petting soothed you when he hummed in acknowledgement.

“Let’s change it up then princess, hmm?” He maneuvered you onto the bed completely, lying down with you. 

“How about I edge you three times for the remaining punishment and then fuck you till you beg me to stop?”

You felt blood rush two-ways in your body. Up to your cheeks at the idea, and southwards to reignite the sundering fire. You nodded your head silently.

“I need words baby.”

“Yes, sounds good. But, can you kiss me first?” You felt undeniably shy, hell he just spanked you, you were in the middle of talking about him driving you close to insanity with his magical hands and tongue and glorious dick. And here you are, shy about asking him for an innocent kiss.

“Good girl,” he praised you as he closed the gap between your lips. You let yourself melt into the kiss and enjoy the fluttering you felt at his praise. He knew he could make you putty in his hands with just a few praises. And he was right, you were so weak for them when they came out of his mouth.

The mouth that started to wander downwards, peppering kisses onto your neck while his hands unceremoniously ripped your dress from your body.

“HEY! I liked that dress,” you complained playfully.

“No, you didn’t. I’ll buy you better ones,” he answered nonchalantly before biting one of your nipples, making you yelp back the retort that you would have made just to be difficult. He smirked up at you, looking halfway to ridiculous with your nipple still in his mouth. His hand found your other breast and started playing with it just the way you liked it.

He alternated between gentle fondling and tweaking your nipple while he worked the other with his skillful mouth and tongue. You let out your voice to encourage his ministrations, knowing no one would hear you outside the room. One of your hands buried itself into his silky locks, pulling him as close as possible.

As his mouth traveled down, your flush reached towards him as well, not just your cheeks, down until your chest you had flushed due to his attention. When he reached his goal you twisted your free hand into the sheets. Oh how he knew just what to do to make you lose your mind.

He pulled down your panties, as if they had personally offended him. Immediately after he moved your leg to have more space. As he licked you in a long stripe you whined. This much stimuli, while feeling good, was nowhere near enough while in his bed. He chuckled at you, then flicked your clit before sucking on it. He alternated between fucking you on his tongue and playing with your clit until you were nearly sobbing with pleasure. But you knew it will get so much better and worse.

Just as you were close to reaching your peak. As your breathing became incredibly fast and moans left your mouth unrestrained.

“Jin… I’m close.”

You warned. And all touch ceased. You were left on the verge. Flexing your thighs to feel a little bit of relief, unsuccessfully. 

“One down. 2 more to go dear. Colour?” He caressed your cheek to get your attention.

“Green.” You smiled up at him. Even while being punished, like this you could never forget the love you hold for this man. And he never let you forget that he loves you too, you could always feel it in his gentle caresses like now, that let you calm down before he once again put an onslaught of pleasure onto you.

He pecked your lips as his fingers moved downwards. His mouth once again found your nipple while his fingers caressed you at first. His thumb circled your clit before one elegant, long finger got inserted into you. He pumped it experimentally a few times before adding another.

“So good for me,” he praised you while picking up the pace of his fingers. He crooked them just enough to hit your G spot in every inward thrust. When he also resumed playing with your clit, you knew this would not take long to get on the edge again. And you were right, just a few minutes later, or were they seconds, you grabbed his head to pull him up towards you. Just by a glance at you, he knew you were close again.

He once again stopped playing with you, but his fingers remained inside you, keeping you open. You whined and tried to move your hips to gain even the slightest friction that might send you over the edge. His other hand pinned you down, and you whined in frustration.

“You are doing great. One more and I will gladly fuck you until you come again and again,” he rasped into your ear, thrusting his clothed cock against your thighs once to let you know how much he wants you. He knew what his words can do to you. Even the slightest praise could make you hot and bothered for him.

And thus, once again, the second you calmed down a little, his fingers started moving in you again. His tongue started playing with your clit, intent on driving you as fast to your peak as possible,  just to stop before it once again. Thankfully, it was the last one. As you stopped before your peak again, you thought you were close to losing your sanity. You might have just pounced on Jin and rode him till he couldn’t cum more. Maybe tie his hands up too, while you were at it. Maybe another time, you thought as he stripped. As he positioned himself above you, you caressed him, showing your appreciation, your love. He kissed your palm as he slowly entered you, making sure not to overwhelm you at first.

When he sheathed himself fully into you he still waited for you to nudge him. He knew well he wasn’t one of the smallest guys, and that was also true to his nether regions. While you would sometimes enjoy the slight pain, today he instinctively knew it wasn’t one of those nights. Not after the misery he caused you accidentally.

When you had enough of waiting, you lifted your hips to thrust back into him. He immediately started thrusting into you slowly. So slowly it could have been described as torture. You whined at him and let your nails leave marks of your annoyance on his back.

“Want more?” He thrusted in with a bit more power.

“Please.”

“With pleasure,” he whispered to you as he picked up the pace.

You loved him like this, when he was close to losing his composure to pleasure, as he was thrusting into you, pulling you both under a wave of indescribable feeling. Verging on the line of love and pleasure. As he found your sweet spot again and pulled you closer and closer to the edge. When he reached down and started playing with your clit again, you gasped even louder than so far.

“Jin… I’m close… Can I?” You asked in between gasps. 

“Yeah, cum for me.” He deliberately aimed at your weak spots, urging you to fall over the edge.

With one last twist of his hips and a stronger stimulus to your clit your back arched as the orgasm rushed through you. Your cunt spasmed around him as he thrusted into you faster, fucking you through your orgasm.

“That’s my good girl.” You looked up at him, slightly oversensitive. He was close, you knew from the furrow of his brows as he tried to hold out a little more. You whined at his praise. You pulled him impossibly closer with your legs. Pulling him down in a kiss in the meanwhile.

“Cum in me, please,” you whispered into the kiss. Loud enough for him to hear over your mingled breaths.

“Fuck, you are gonna be the death of me baby,” he grunted as he pistoned into you, chasing his orgasm in your sensitive body. Pulling you close by your hips as he thrust one last time and let himself go in you. He was a sight in his orgasm. As his lips gaped just a tiny bit in a soft moan, as his eyes closed in pleasure. You were sure you could find no one who was more beautiful in this moment, not like you would go and search for someone else, when you were in his bed. You weren’t completely stupid.

When he came down his high he pulled out of you, making you groan softly from his absence. He kissed you before starting to get up.

“Good girl. Wait for me. I’m bringing a towel.” You nuzzled into his hand that caressed you, like a satisfied cat.

He came back promptly, with a damp towel in one of his hands, and a bottle of water in the other. He gently toweled you down before doing the same to himself. Then he gathered you in his arms, making you slowly gulp down mouthfuls of water. When you moved your head away from the bottle, nuzzling into his chest, he drank the remaining water before laying down and cuddling with you. Gently caressing you, he murmured praises to you.

“You did so great today. My good girl.” He kissed your forehead, your cheek, your lips with each praise. You sighed, content after the evening. Humming, you lifted your head to bring him into a kiss. A different one from the ones before, not passionate now, but loving and sleepy. The one people share just out of love, to express their feelings.

As you got comfortable against him, sleepiness came fast. Your eyelids became heavier with each passing second. Content, satisfied, happy, you let yourself murmur against his skin. 

“I love you Jin.”

“I love you too,” he murmured back, kissing your lips one last time. “Go to sleep.” He pulled you even closer, acting as your heater in the admittedly cold temperature of his dorm under the blankets.

That’s how you fell asleep that day. Held in his arms, warm, and loved.

[fulgurbugs]

What would the travelers Pokémon teams be?

I can totally see Alfyn having a Blissey. Therion seems like he’d have a Gengar, potentially.

ok. upon literally hours of deliberation and team building (i actually already had ones for the OT1 travelers but decided to revisit them and change a few picks) me and my bestie @snailcruncher have settled on some teams. i will be going in depth on reasonings for these so prepare for a long post lol. im gonna put it under a readmore because really im not joking about how long it is

we also came up with some ideas/lore for why some of these would be picked in a pokemon AU setting, so i’ll be explaining any of those thoughts if they’re relevant too.

Ophilia:

one of the only teams left untouched, I think this is a good batch for her. i’m imagining a scenario where the sacred flame takes the form of a pokemon, and it’s a lampent. frosmoth and togetic felt just like… the right vibe. Lapras and Ampharos both have associations with guiding, so they’re in. Audino is a notable healing pokemon, and it feels in line with her personality as well.

Cyrus:

Alakazam for mr high iq smart guy. duh. oranguru for his role as a teacher, and Runerigus would be a late acquisition to his team in his ch4. Flareon, Glaceon, and Jolteon for the 3 scholar spell types. i also think him having 3 eeveelutions could also be kind of like, they’re really good for demonstrations for single-type stuff, as well as being popular with others. people might come up to him and be like omg you have a flareon i love flareon pleaseeee tell me more (flirtily) which of course would go over his head and he would start telling you flareon facts. I feel like Cyrus would excel in double battles.

Tressa:

Meowth: the pay day signature pokemon. this is as close as i can replicate to tressa randomly finding money. Skwovet (she can now take her pet squirrel with her in a pokeball)

Gyrados for sure. one, she lives along an ocean, so she should definitely have a water type, two, i’m imagining a scenario where she buys a magikarp cheap, seeing the potential in it, then raises it into a real powerhouse. just like her!

carbink: really funny scenario me and the bestie came up with that instead of eldrite the treasure was diancieite. the carbink is from the same cave. tressa did try to evolve it with the diancieite. it didn’t work.

pidgeot… felt like she needed a flying type (wind magic rep) and i feel like she’d gravitate to the humbler normal types… doesn’t get much more straightforward than pidgeot. Dhelmise… maybe it used to be captain leons, maybe she fished it out of the harbor in rippletide herself. either way, she thinks it’s cool

Olberic:

Aegislash: sword form, shield form…. this pokemon itself is the unbending blade. obviously i have given him several other sword based pokemon, too.

gallade, escavalier, and sirfetch’d badically all fit this. they’re knight-like, so they feel fitting i think to him.

as for conkeldurr and garganacl, they feel kind of… solidly built. like him. ( ⬇️ garganacl pick lore)

Primrose:

almost all of her pokemon can learn some kind of dance though their level up. Oricorio is the obvious choice, dragonair reps dragon dance, beautifly reps quiver dance, and lilligant… well they can learn so fucking many. we couldn’t decide on which one to give her, so we ended up giving her both. they’re her backup dancers or whatever.

mawile just feels very primrose to me. its cute or pretty or whatever, and you might underestimate it… but watch out. it bites.

Alfyn:

he feels like a guy who loves a big fluffy dog. and stoutland has also been used in games for its ability to sniff out items, so it feels like it’d be a good pick for an apothecary looking to sniff out herbs and such. Comfey is an obvious pick, i mean its signature move is. floral healing. meganium also has mentioned in its dex entries its healing and calming properties. it’s also a cool as fuck dinosaur so i think alfyn would like it.

chatot. does this even need explanation

we also wanted to give him an ice type, and settled on cubchoo. it has a perpetually runny nose… even Alfyn can’t fix it, try as he might.

as for leavanny, we had some trouble picking the last slot on this team. we were looking through friendship evos, and leavanny caught my eye. it’s dex entries mention that it’s very gentle, it also shows no mercy to foes who target young pokemon. seems fitting… we decided alfyn got it as a swadloon (maybe it could be taught to use its sewing abilities to dress wounds?) and it evolved during his ch3.

Therion:

I think Krookodile, mimikyu, and klefki are quite obvious picks, so i won’t go too in on them. Ninjask and Shedinja…. Ninjask is super speedy, so it felt right to give one to therion, but also i feel like.. he’d keep the shedinja around. even with 1 hp and one billion weaknesses… it’s still a part of his team. it and ninjask were born from the same nincada. he couldn’t abandon it like that.

and applin lol. something about therion gives me “guy who’s going for a cool as fuck hydrapple and ends up with an appletun actually”

H’aanit:

If anyone’s allowed to have legendaries, it’s the hunters. Chien-pao is as close as we can get to a snow leopard. and yeah maybe it’s a little evil but H’aanit is built different. Decidueye feels like an obvious pick, and spirit shackle is a great signature move for the h’aanit vibe. trapinch for. leghold trap. kilowattrel is literally a thunderbird. and ariados… well, it has the ability sniper, to reference hunter’s crit boosting abilities, as well as having some trapping moves like webs. for the Hunters, I’ve left their last spot blank, but this just means like, a “flex” spot that would be different each time you battled them. H’aanits got boxes of options to choose from.

now, onto the OT2 ones!

Ochette:

I’m sure you can see what i’m going for here. it’s just the closest i could get to Akala/mahina and her 3 story beasts. and again, like H’aanit, the last spot is “flex” not empty, so imagine her bringing some different new bullshit to every battle.

Cassti:

i wanted to do a few things with Castti: obviously, give her some healing-y mons, but also a few oddball picks that might have you looking twice. picked Shiinotic because of its ominous dex entries, and then. toedscruel because i realize shiinotic actuallt doesn’t get spore i think? and i think castti “put em to sleep right in the street” florenz should have a mon with spore. (edit. i actually just cant read the bulbapedia tables and shiinotic does get spore. anyways she gets two spore mons i guess cuz what if she’s gotta knock out two people at the same time. or whatever. dustox emits toxic powder from its wings, which seems like it could be something castti would want to keep on hand for poison axe. these three might seem a little weird tho, and reinforce her bad first impression in canalbrine, even though i’m sure they’d all be very well behaved and nice. Blissey and Arboliva are straightforward healing picks. I feel like these would be common for apothecaries to have in general.

and then galar-slowking. poison-activated brain nonsense. i feel like she acquires this one post-amnesia. they feel a kinship with each other.

Throné

Throné’s team is half-blacksnakes dedicated, half catered to herself. Every blacksnake has a seviper or an ekans, as well as probably most of them also having other grunt-esque pokemon, like zubats and such. throné’s taken care of hers, though, and friendship evolved it into a crobat.

chose furfrou because i think throné would like a prissy little dog she can dress up cutely. milcery, which she’s waiting on evolving until she can figure out what alcremie form she wants, and a shade-cherrim.

oh, and zangoose, of course. the natural enemy of sevipers. one appeared to her right after she left new delsta. what a sign, right?

Osvald:

Osvald we had some interesting stuff to work with, I think. we decided that most of his pokemon were newly acquired after his prison escape- not on purpose. they seem to just take a liking to him and start following him around.

the avalugg helped get him out of the frozen water at cape cold, and then stuck with him.

the teddiursa.. also just stuck with him. we wanted to give him something that felt a little oddball for him… so this doesn’t evolve. it stays cute and unevolved forever.

the shuppet was found hovering around the ruins of Osvald’s house. he was reluctant to take it, but if it was formed out of some semblance of his desire for vengeance… he has to be responsible for it.

the Indeedee is the only one of osvalds old pokemon, out of this lineup. since indeedee are so helpful to people, it was kind of a family pokemon acquired after elena’s birth (dex mentions they’re good at babysitting.) Osvald could probably also trust it with simple lab assistant tasks like moving stuff around. was a very beloved pokemon within their family. anyways, following his sentencing, clarissa managed to get ahold of the indeedee and took care of it all this time. when osvald returns, it’s clear it wants him to take her with him.

the drampa was acquired after the events of montwise, having shown up and basically just forced itself to go with osvald. somehow it seems to know what’s going on and who it can trust…

and slowking.. well, smart guy needs a smart pokemon. it’s another one that took a shine to him, though at that point he was getting used to this happening.

Partitio:

Talonflame: partitio’s aptitude for fire magic and the “chickadee” nickname made this an obvious choice for an ace. I can imagine a young partitio’s first pokemon being a fletchling, for sure.

bramblegast. the funny tumbleweed. put it on the team immediately.

Milotic: Paritio picked up a feebas. having a knack for seeing the potential in pokemon, he wasn’t wrong, and now hes got this thing. it’s very popular with other people, though it seems an odd pick for partito at first glance to strangers.

armarouge: ok this one’s a little convoluted so i will explain it later. kind of vibes based pick tho lol. revavroom kind of. uhh. steam engine. (we can pretend)

there ain’t a more partitio pokemon out there than gholdengo. everyone say thank you scarvi for giving partitio most of his team.

Agnea:

hey, it’s another oricorio! i think you can guess why.

volcarona: learns fiery dance, but we thought up even more lore on this one. the larvesta was a family pokemon. mostly belonging to Garud (we ended up deciding that the Bristarnis had a lot of bug types, who help out with the sewing stuff and larvesta does give a little bit silkworm, lol..)

anyways, part of his blessing for sending agnea off was telling her to take the larvesta, who also turned out to be a dazzling star in the end too… after a lot of hard work.

altaria and leafeon rep dragon and swords dance. i just feel like they’re good picks for her energy, too. lunatone reps the moonstep. I’ve also opted to give her a sunny cherrim, which i think would be cute contrasted with Throné’s gloomy one.

Temenos:

temenos has quite the oddball lineup for a cleric. but hes kind of an oddball cleric so i think it works.

Absol. man. a lot of shit happens to temenos. this absol is stressed tf out 24 fucking 7. sorry man.

Clefable: felt like we had to give him a healer-adjacent pokemon and this one evolves with a moonstone. feels fitting for mr night-ability mistral tbh.

Lokix. alright. another scenario based pick. Temenos caught this thing on the pilgrims way as a nymble at like level 2. probably rustling in the metaphorical tall grass, crick is all “get behind me, it could be dangerous” and then. lvl 2. nymble. doesn’t even need to be fought to be caught. and then temenos is all hey crick, it’s a “crick”et pokemon! (we’ll ignore that the dex says grasshopper) he’d keep it just to mess with crick, but it ends up sticking around.

Houndoom. well, temenos is the pontiff’s hound, so we did need to pick a dog for him. it’s a houndour in the beginning, houndoom by the end. probably evolved in a moment of crisis (in ch4?) the yamask is from crackridge.

wooloo. this is actually Crick’s. it wasn’t helping with the little lamb allegations… after the events of stormhail, Temenos takes it in.

Hikari:

Kingambit: i mean. come on. gotta get a kingambit for the future king.

Gardevoirs dex entire mention that it is dedicated to its trainer/cause to the bitter end, and would do anything to protect it. perfect for Hikari.

Morpeko and Zweilous. some literally two-faced pokemon. (maybe he feels a little bit of a kinship with them in that way) i also really wanted to give Hikari a pseudo-legendary, and i think that his zweilous would probably evolve just in the nick of time to kick some ass against mugen. Hydreigons might be notoriously destructive, but something about the personalities merging into one brain in evolution seems to have mellowed Hikari’s out. it’s remarkably personable, for a hydreigon.

lucario: i really wanted to give him a pokemon that learns copycat, and lucario fits that bill. plus, he definitely needed a fighting type.

Cerudelge: formed from bitterness of old cursed armor, but also an extremely skilled sword fighter… one of hikari’s aces.

I also like to imagine that a lot of hikari’s pokemon are quite difficult to deal with (his ceruledge in particular is quite belligerent and mean) but they all have utmost respect for him as a trainer, once they’re on the battlefield. but onlookers sometimes worry… how the hell does he deal with it all?

other notes about some of the picks :

Partitio’s amarouge. Paritio picked up a. charcadet later on, and hikari personally warned him that it might be difficult to deal with. (his charcadet and later ceruledge were super hard to train for him) of course, partitio did end up in possession of the cool nice armor that evolved it into the better mannered and nobler armarouge… but honestly, even his charcadet was far better behaved.

paritio and tressa both get those shitty fish that get cool. must be because they both have an eye for a diamond in the rough.

agnea and throné’s cherrims are best friends. throné rarely got to see her cherrim sunny-form until she left new delsta… she wonders if maybe it was upset about being so nocturnal before, with the blacksnakes.

castti and osvald, team mom and team dad somehow both ended up with slowkings. everyone’s a little concerned about castti’s, though…

after the events of his story, Osvald leaves indeedee and teddiursa with clarissa and elena. the teddiursa and elena in particular take to each other very well… when osvald finally is able to return to elena’s life, the teddiursa is really much more her pokemon.

also. H’aanit and Ochette and far and away the best battlers of both groups. i know i only have them with one flex spot, but you can imagine that they’d swap out a lot more for whatever they need to do to build a good team. they’ve got loads more options than everyone else.

you know that thing about giving someone an applin in galar? therion did trade it over to alfyn at one point. but really they have joint custody of that thing. which definitely ended up as an appletun.

we also had some npc aces sprinkled in there, so here’s some other thoughts, just as bonus!

Malaya: Pawmot (revival blessing), rapidash.

Elena: Abra

Harvey: Hypno, Bacephalon

Pala: Kricketot (formerly belonged to her and agnea’s mom)

Roque: Metagross

Kazan: Husuian Braviary

Ori: Chatot

Trousseau: Glimmora

Cordelia: ….ferrothorn

Erhardt: Aegislash, Hisuian Samurott

Z’aanta: Zamazenta

Juvah: is literally a solgaleo

Darius: Scrafy/Pangoro

Simeon: Malamar

Esmeralda: Mismagius (wanted to give her something with perish song)

Mattias: drifblim? darkrai?

Lucia: Hatterene

Miguel: Grimmsnarl

Werner: spectrier

Mugen: Kingambit. mirror match with Hikari, but mugen’s has supreme overlord while Hikari’s has defiant.

Kaldena: we couldn’t pick but maybe she goes like lusamine mode and fuses with something.

Claude: Cradily. (uh. literally fossil pokemon)

Dolcinea: belive it or not, also an oricorio. also, solrock. but her oricorio is the prettiest.

veronica: she has somehow acquired the worlds first and only female gallade through the power of lesbianism.

Crick: … wooloo….

I do wanna make some drawings for these ideas, but this post was literally already one billion miles long and has way too many images, so it’ll probably be a separate post. thanks for the ask! and sorry for talking so much, but i fucking love making pokemon teams so much it’s insane.

and a big thank you again to my bestie @snailcruncher who helped me with a lot of these picks (and did basically all of the npc picks thank you so much i love you). tysm for pokemon octopath brainrotting with me for like 4 hours.

[earthlyruins]

"beauty and the beast au where zoro's the beast and sanji's—" okay sure yeah but what about when sanji's the beast and zoro's the beaut.

zoro's good with kids and good with math. we've seen this. we've experienced it. he play fights with the kids regularly and helps out with stocks and sales of local shops

think of link twilight princess... big brother swordsman

also better than All of the knights in the village. this includes a very certain red, blue, and green haired trio. they're all very bitter about it. among other things

zoro's also the only person to ever use three swords so like. there's that. everyone thinks he has a few screws loose. he doesn't. or so he proclaims

insert kuina backstory... he makes a promise to himself to become the greatest swordsman in the world. it's just that he's, in a word, broke. and also a little sentimental but don't let nami hear him say that

judge is the head of this mini military and is very adamant on trying to recruit zoro to siege the palace on the hill. for Some Reason.

nami conspires with zoro that it's because he has some long lost enemy up there. Little Does She Know

meanwhile sanji lives alone in the castle, cursed. but not in the way you'd think. rather than a hulking beast, he's pretty much the same if not for the fact that he has a helmet on his head. thanks, dad.

thinking about the rest of the straw hats being little dancing singing objects. that was more or less an accidental side effect of the curse (sanji took off his helmet once, and it knocked luffy into a candle and ussop into a clock and well.)

he's slowly starving (hence why he tried to take the helmet off). the cook who cannot taste his food. throw in a wilting rose metaphor and when the last petal falls is when he dies

fortunately he has an old man by the name of zeff who literally won't let that happen. also all his friends that will fight death to keep sanji kicking

quite literally in some cases

so that's why when nami goes missing trying to explore the mysterious castle and zoro immediately goes to follow her, zeff practically knocks down his door to set the fear of god in him

too bad zoro doesn't believe in any god

but hey fine he won't hurt the creature in the castle. creature. period. zeff hits him over the head with a baguette

zoro finds nami and also sanji. decides in a split moment to announce he'll trade places with her. she is sitting on a couch. unharmed. she wouldn't have Been harmed. nami proceeds to call him a fucking idiot

sanji laughs at him, and zoro refuses to leave out of spite. he learns that sanji is a priss and a prince or sometimes a princess depending on the day, that he has a brilliant passion for cooking (whose skills are similar to a certain chef back in the village), and that when he laughs, zoro finds himself laughing too.

discovers sanji's dream of the all blue, and zoro finds himself telling sanji about his dream of becoming the greatest swordsman, of wado, of kuina

and eventually, Eventually, he finds out the details of sanji's curse. why he sometimes can't dredge out the energy to get out of bed (and why it's getting more and more frequent these days), and why he can't take off that helmet when the key is right there. and what the flower is all about.

proceeds to Book It when sanji tells him about judge and his brothers. except he doesn't tell sanji this, so sanji is sitting around in the castle, heartbroken and wondering Why he's heartbroken, while zoro is marching back to his village, Pissed

zeff pulls him aside though and they go and find reiju after zoro tells him that sanji's condition is worsening

zoro comes Back but this time with sanji's real dad and sister in tow and after a lot of tears and yelling (at zoro) ((and zeff)) (((then at zoro again))) they devise a plan on how to take judge down.

zoro plans on beating up ichiji niji and yonji simultaneously which sanji disagrees with. specifically because he wants to be the one to kick niji into next week

yadayadayada insert fight scene bc this is already ungodly long and judge gets exiled and imprisoned. niji gets drop kicked. the helmet comes off just as the timer runs out (thinking that the only way it could come off was to not only have someone fall For "the beast" but to have said beast love himself too. which zoro did. #love)

happily ever after. sanji eats and cooks and zoro fights and they take care of each other and find all blue. okay goodnight