#or cross/tale because idk

[dream-sans-mogai]

Xknifeic/Crossknifeic

A gender that is, best described as or otherwise related to X/cross sans's (and by extension X/cross chara's) weapon, a giant red knife.

[so-you-melted-22]

currently making agressive eyecontact with that fucking scp quote in the description of a call of duty fanfic

[aliosne]

My mother tells a lot of stories and admittedly my memory is undependable but every now and then she’ll start an anecdote like “as I’m sure you’re tired of me saying” as tho it’s going to be the most boring fact ever conceived and then drop “i met Tommy Douglas multiple times as a child”

[revasserium]

Hey, can I request zoro x reader (established relationship) where the Strawhats end up going to reader’s home island (unknown to anyone in the group aside from reader), and the reader is super nervous and refuses to leave the boat, so the crew goes out and walk around and they find a missing/wanted poster of the reader and find out she’s a run away princess that needed to be. Later they coke to find out that reader ran away cause her parents and the servants mistreated and was about to marry her off to a violent prince

opla requests are: open

lips on every cross

opla!zoro; 5,989 words; fem!reader, semi-established?? relationship, posessive!zoro, strawhat!reader, no "y/n", reader gets kidnapped, fluff and angst, very brief! mentions of past familial abuse and trauma, nicknames ("Princess"), slow-ish burn???, more plot than not

summary: zoro has never thought himself a holy man. but he'd kiss every cross if it meant finding his way back to you.

a/n: idk why every opla fic i write is like... more plot than i bargained for but here we are. literally, this fic was just supposed to be "zoro calls the reader 'princess'".

01. when love arrives

(“Hey Princess —“)

The nickname starts, as almost all things do on the Going Merry, as a joke. And, as with most jokes made amongst the rag-tag crew, it sticks. He’d said it because he’s sure you’d mentioned your name once or twice already, but he’d been napping or eating and he didn’t feel like looking like an asshole right that moment.

The ribbon in your hair had caught the light in just the right way, pale pink satin — such a strange, soft color amidst the careening, careless ocean, and the word just… slipped.

“Why’dyou call her that?” Luffy asks, lounging back against the main mast as Zoro works through the umpteenth rep of single-armed pushups.

Zoro puffs out a breath and switches arms.

“Dunno. Seemed like it fit.”

Luffy slates you a long glance, blinking owlishly.

“Really? Eh — I guess… well, she is really pretty.”

Zoro only grunts, jumping up and stretching both arms over his head with a long, steady breath. His eyes flicker towards you as well, laughing with Nami on the foredeck, sipping on cocktails, Sanji probably simping somewhere nearby.

He thinks back to where they’d found you, hood pulled low over your eyes, the tell-tale signs of distress carved into every line of your body, from the curve of your spine to the bend of your shoulders.

Luffy hadn’t asked questions, so Zoro hadn’t either.

Curiosity, the fatal flaw that runs so sharp and obvious through the entirety of Luffy’s being, hasn’t always been rewarded well in Zoro’s experience. And he’s learned by now that “truth will out”, or so they say.

(“C’mon, Princess, I thought you said you could drink.”)

Caution, on the other hand, is Zoro’s oldest friend. You are cautious, if nothing else, and the first time he sees you relax in his presence, he wonders to himself if there’s a drug in this world strong enough to induce this feeling.

Later, he would learn that this is simply called falling in love.

He isn’t the only one who notices how you casually dip a silver fork or knife into every single drink before you take a sip, or that sometimes, you blurt out the word “no’ like a promise to yourself, and “sorry” like a plea for help.

And he’s spent long enough being a hunter to know what being hunted looks like. So he doesn’t ask, and you don’t answer, and somehow, you still manage to make yourself a home in the dark caverns of his chest, curling up there till he can’t count his heartbeats without it sounding like the shadow of your name on the midnight wind.

02. a study of light and dark

The drinking game starts off innocently enough (and don’t they always), but it takes half a round for the questions and subsequent answers to devolve into loud laughter and debauchery, delirium and debasement.

“Alright, alright —“ Sanji holds up a hand, tossing back his shot to raucous cheers, “worst thing you’ve done in a closet. Go —“

Zoro rolls his eyes and takes the shot, foregoing his answer. Nami simply grins, catlike, swirling her own drink around her glass.

“In your wildest dreams, cook,” she says before taking her shot as well. Sanji lets out a contemplative whistle, followed by a good-natured wink.

“Define worst, cause… I mean, I’ve puked in like… most of them back in Syrup Village,” Usopp says. Sanji only chuckles, shrugging.

“We’ll take it, we’ll take it.”

Luffy hums, frowning for a second before smacking a fist into his open palm, grinning, “I took a nap!”

Everyone laughs, helpless and buoyed up by the casual effervescence of a night like this — when the moon is dark and the stars are bright and thin wisps of silver clouds mar the sky like tendrils of lost daydreams, caught on the wrong side of sunset.

When the laughter settles down, everyone turns to you.

You purse your lips, feeling the weight of your answer pressing down on the tip of your tongue — I hid. And I waited. And I tried not to listen.

As the silence stretches on, Zoro leans forward and uncrosses his arms, reaching out to nudge a full shot glass towards you.

“Times up, Princess — drink,” and though there’s nothing soft or even forgiving in his voice, but you feel yourself relax as everyone boos and you take your shot.

The heat of Zoro’s gaze only lingers on your skin for a moment longer before he leans back again, that familiar almost-grin tugging lazily at his lips as he turns half-lidded eyes towards the rest of his crew.

(“Talk to me, Princess.”)

When you find him later, fumbling in the dark of the hallway just outside his room, you kiss him without saying “thank you” and he doesn’t question it when, pressed beneath him on the rough linen of his sheets, you ask to keep the lights on.

03. etymology

Princess — it’s a nice word, Zoro muses to himself. The light pop of the ‘p’ rolling into the warm, round ‘r’, thinning out into the sensual layering of the double ‘s’s, till you’re left with nothing but a hiss, a shadow, a memory.

It’s a regal word; a pretty word. Though its origins might be anything but.

From the Latin primus “first” and cept “catcher”, or so Robin had told him over the pages of an ancient book he hadn’t bothered to ask the name of, because Princes and Kings have always obtained their powers through taking, and never asking. Reaping, and never sowing.

Zoro thinks then that this, too, is a form conquest — you over him. The totality of your power stunning to behold, if only because he has to let you take it in the first place. And he does so willingly.

He wonders if you, too, are as multifaceted as his nickname for you — delicacy and desire wrapped around a darker something, lace laid over a knife’s unforgiving edge.

The first time he dares to kiss you, he feels you kissing him back, the sharp canines of your teeth catching on his lower lip, drawing out a soft grunt from him. You’d paused, and then you’d bitten down harder just to hear him gasp into your mouth.

He knew then, without ever having to ask, that you are.

04. tip of the iceberg

It is winter when they arrive — but then again, it is always winter here. Here, the cold runs so deep it drives frost crystals into the marrow of your bones. Here, the wind howls like a wounded animal and the night falls with a savage, carnal vengeance, all black velvet and a blood-tinted moon.

Here, the snow storms turn living, breathing heroes into song lyrics and poetry rhymes.

You inhale a single breath before turning and heading back below deck.

Zoro frowns, and at a single look from Luffy, he follows you beneath, only to find you rummaging around the kitchen, tugging a bottle of moonshine out from under the sink.

“Whoa,” Zoro says, reaching out to stop you from uncorking the bottle, an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t miss the way you shiver, “bit early, isn’t it?”

“Bit rich, coming from you,” you snap, eyes sharp, voice stinging.

Zoro only cocks his other eyebrow in tandem and pulls the bottle from your hands before turning and grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. He takes his time filling them both with ice, and then pouring a finger into each glass.

You don’t meet his eyes as you reach out for your glass, but he catches your wrist.

“A drink for an answer,” he says.

You pause, your lips pressed into a thin, white line. And he knows it’s unfair, to turn this game around on you, because he can tell from the hard set of your shoulders that this is so much more than a drinking game but if this is what it takes to get the truth — then so be it.

“Fine,” you say, glancing away, voice clipped.

You move to take a sip, but Zoro pushes down your hand again.

“No lying.”

You scoff, narrowing your eyes, “Obviously.”

He eases off, picking up his own glass and clinking it against yours before taking a light swig, “You know this place.”

This time, you’re the one who turns around with a cocked brow.

“Got a question in there somewhere?”

Zoro’s lips twitch, “Yes, or no.”

You sigh, tapping a finger against the edge of your cup, “Yes.”

Zoro hums, “Your turn.”

You chew on your lips before taking a sip, “Why do you care so much?”

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Stupid question. Next.”

You huff, “That’s not how this game goes.”

Zoro swirls his glass before setting it down on the counter with a loud clack, “Because I care about you.”

You pause with your own drink halfway to your mouth and look up. Zoro doesn’t shy away from meeting your gaze and for a moment, time statics to a halt around you.

Then, Zoro sighs, unclenching his jaw as he attempts a lopsided smile.

“Hey, talk to me,” he reaches out to trail a finger along the high of your cheekbones, up to the shell of your ear.

The ‘please’ hangs silent in the air between you; the ‘Princess’ is implied.

And for the first time, he thinks he sees you flinch. He makes to pull back but you tug his hand forward, pressing your cheek against his palm.

“This island,” you say, finally, the tremor in your voice like a hairline fracture snaking through a porcelain vase, “it’s… well, it used to be… my home.”

05. the secret history

It is the most beautiful place any of them have ever been.

The castle is made entirely of ice, the cold winter sun refracting the light into a million and one unseen colors. Giant ice-carved sculptures dot the crystal-flower gardens, and it takes them all a few minutes to realize that the gorgeous, delicate blooms are made of glass, blown and shaped to mirror real-life snowflakes — each unique, glittering, and eternal.

“Dude… how long do you think all this took to make?” Usopp asks, his head turning as if on a swivel, his jaw hinging off his face in awe.

Robin sighs, “Too long, perhaps.”

Zoro stays quiet, and beside him, so does Nami.

You’d insisted on staying back, to guard the ship, you’d said. But the space you usually fill in the group hangs solid in the air, a gaping hole of lack when there should be none.

Luffy hums and he marches out in front of them, ever the dubious, fearless leader. Though most of the crew has now come to terms with the fact that “courage” and “sheer bull-headedness” are often two sides of the same coin for him.

It’s Sanji who pauses first, causing Chopper to ram into the back of his knees.

“Ouch! What’dyou do that f —”

“Look,” Sanji says, pointing at a poster pasted to the slick outer wall of the castle gates.

And they do, leaning in, crowding too close. Zoro grunts as Chopper jumps and scrambles up his back to peer over his shoulder at the face plastered on the dew-soaked poster, the words LOST PRINCESS: 120,000,000 FOR ANY INFORMATION THAT LEADS TO HER WHEREABOUTS printed in giant, familiar block letters along the bottom.

Beside him, Zoro can feel Nami swallowing. Hard.

“A hundred and twenty million berry…” she murmurs, her breath going shallow as they all stare, dumbfounded at the poster of what is unmistakably you.

You, with your exquisite features schooled into something like solemnity, your usually wind-swept hair twisted up into a tight braid across the crown of your head, a diadem of ice-white silver and light-cut jewels jutting up from your severe updo like so many broken teeth, sharp and unforgiving as stalagmites.

If none of them had known, it’d be impossible to reconcile you with this cold, distant portrait, your eyes rendered lifeless and dull by the depthless black ink.

Luffy, however, only blinks and turns to stare at Zoro.

“Did you know?”

“What?”

Luffy continues to stare, “When I asked why you always call her ‘Princess’.”

Zoro sighs, turning his eyes back to the WANTED poster before shaking his head.

“No. Like I said… I thought it just… fit.”

06. eternal day

Zoro is itching to get back to the ship. There’s a fish-line sliver of worry tugging at the place behind his chest where his heart should be, and he knows implicitly that something is wrong.

“Don’t worry, she can take care of herself!” Luffy says, smiling bright, his confidence unwavering.

“No Luffy, Zoro’s right — someone should be with her. What if —” and here, Nami glances at Zoro before turning her attention back to Luffy, “— she might need the backup,” is what she finally settles with. And to Zoro’s great relief, Luffy agrees.

And then, to everyone’s horror, off in the distance, your voice rises over the wind in a blood-curdling scream.

07. endless night

By the time Zoro makes it back to the ship, you are already gone.

08. torn asunder

Gone, gone, gone. The word echoes like an ill-fated alarm bell, ringing through Zoro’s entire body as he catapults himself through the ship, slamming open every door, checking every nook, corner, and crevice. Signs of a struggle, that much is clear, scuffs on the freshly waxed planks of the aft deck, nail marks along the railings, and —

Zoro’s breath freezes in his chest.

A smear of blood that drips over the side of the ship, trailing down the ladder.

A flash of pale pink catches his eye.

Your satin hair ribbon lies abandoned on the wharfs’ boardwalk, the faintest splatter of red soaking its ends.

He picks it up between gentle fingers and tucks it deep into his pocket.

His vision blurs red as he thinks about the things your captors might’ve done to you before dragging you off. He’s seen you fight and it wouldn’t have been easy to bring you down.

And by the time the rest of the crew reach him, he’s already sprinting back towards the castle, his jaw set, his teeth gritted.

It takes the combined effort of Sanji, Luffy, and Robin to stop him from charging through the castle gates and tearing the whole place down.

“Runnin’ round like a headless chicken’s not gonna do her any good, mate,” Sanji says, a smoke already caught between his teeth. A pre-fight ritual of his.

Zoro jerks his arm out of Sanji’s grasp, stalking down the street with a huff.

Robin strolls after him, somehow keeping pace, looking unhurried as Zoro tamps down the blind urge to slash the entire island in half.

“We’ll find her,” Robin says, her voice level, even as her sharp eyes scan the white-specked horizon, the usually amused half-twist of her lips laid flat by worry, “and she’s stronger than you think.”

At this, Zoro whips around, “I know —” but he bites down the venom threatening to surge up the back of his throat with a sigh. Robin doesn’t flinch, and Zoro attempts a steadying breath before repeating himself in a slightly softer tone, “I know… I’m just…”

Robin nods, and Zoro is thankful that he doesn’t have to finish his sentence.

09. the tower and the throne

The cold greets you like a scorned lover— a spiteful, savage mistress. Tendrils of frost creep along the walls of your old bedroom to caress your cheeks. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, sitting on familiar satin sheets.

“Dinner is soon, darling,” your mother’s cool voice calls from outside your bedroom door, “and make yourself presentable — we’ve got guests.”

The sadistic lilt of her voice as she says the word ‘guests’ makes you jerk your head up, staring at the door as if you might be able to bore through the thick wood with nothing but your eyes. And, almost as if she can feel you staring, you hear your mother’s cold, tinkling laughter.

“Hurry now… I had your favorite dress put out for you. It should still fit — and we don’t want to keep them… waiting.”

The slow, sanguine pause before her last word makes you want to rip out your hair and scream into the wind till your voice gives out.

Instead, you push yourself up and reach for the dress laid out at the foot of your bed with shaking fingers.

The dress fits you like a second skin, the delicate lace trim barely sweeping the floor as you adjust the bodice, grimacing at your reflection in the large, floor-length mirror. It is as if the last ten months had never happened, as if you’d never escaped this terrifying hellscape of a winter wonderland. As if you’d simply dreamed every single sun-filled afternoon, every star-strewn night spent laughing and singing amongst your new-found crew.

Here, in the fragile glass reflection, you are once again a girl trapped behind her own ribcage, with a destiny carved into stone and ice, with no hope of summer in sight. You take a long breath and tighten the ribbons of your dress.

You are still and silent as the maid slips in through the door after a single knock and begins to twist up your hair. Tighter and tighter, till it sets your teeth on edge. When she pins the crown in place, it takes everything inside you not to fall apart, to shatter at the weight, the sight of it sitting on your head. You swallow as the maid dips her head and backs out of the room with a murmured dinner is served, Princess.

For the first time, you wince openly at her words.

10. waiting for the rain

The hall is just how you remembered it, huge and cavernous, gaping like the empty maw of some petrified monster, the ceiling hanging with so many cold, sparkling chandeliers, ice-carved statues jutting up from the floors like teeth.

You’re marched in like a show animal, the great marble doors swinging open before you as you step forward and feel your breath freeze in your chest.

There, strung up on a massive statue of some long-forgotten saint, is Zoro, cuts and bruises marring his already scarred and puckered torso. But he smirks as he sees you come in, his eyes bright as he spits a mouthful of blood onto the seemingly endless white floors. Around him, the rest of your crew sits, tied and slumped over in chairs like so many sleeping mannequins.

“Hey there, Princess. Just in time for dinner.”

You nearly wince at the raspiness in his voice, the faint trickle of blood that leaks out the corner of his mouth.

“Silence,” your father’s voice echoes out from the high-backed chair at the head of the ludicrously long table. You don’t have to see to know his face is as smooth as just-applied plaster. But Zoro only has eyes for you — and he continues to talk as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

“If you’d told us we’d be welcomed like this, we might’ve packed differently.”

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard you almost taste the metallic tang of blood.

“Our daughter has always been a skillful liar — though it’s a habit we tried to… rid her of in her youth. The lesson never seemed to have stuck.” Your mother this time. And now, you can see the muscle ticking in Zoro’s jaw as he scoffs.

“Really? And here I always thought she was shit at lying.”

You swallow down a whimper as the maid wordlessly leads you to the far end of the table, where Zoro is still tied. You drop into the seat between a snoring Luffy and an eerily still Nami, and it’s all you can do not to turn around and retch onto the silk embroidered rug.

“Be that as it may…” your mother’s voice drops a few degrees — an admirable feat, as her voice is usually just on the other side of frigid, “it’s bad luck to kill on the eve of a royal wedding.”

At this, Zoro’s head snaps around and you shrink back in your chair, your eyes fixed on your fists, clenched in your lap.

“Mother,” you grind out, finally forcing your head up so as to meet her piercing, blizzard-bright gaze, “I’ve told you, I’ve no intention of getting married. At least not to the mongrel you’ve decided to set me up with.”

You spit out the last sentence, trying to remember all the snark, all the confidence that’d built up inside you over the past weeks and months. Away from this dreaded castle and on the sun-soaked bow of the Going Merry, it was the first time you’d begun to discover who you are — the things you liked, the ways of life that you yearned for.

Your father slams a hand on the table at the same moment that Zoro lets out a bark of laughter.

“Insolence!”

“Damn, Princess — you never told me you could bite.”

And, to your horror and perhaps deep-seated pleasure, a blush works its way into your cheeks at Zoro’s words. Your eyes snap towards him, catching his gaze as he smirks at you. And even though his shirt is slashed, his sword hilts hanging woefully empty at this hip, his hands twisted painfully behind him on the statue, he still manages an easy, condescending air.

You seize at this tiny tendril of normalcy as you force a wane smile.

“I might be persuaded to do more than that… if you ask nicely.”

Zoro’s snicker is drowned out by your mother’s sharp gasp. But you don’t look away, holding Zoro’s gaze for as long as you dare — in it, you find an entire abyss of barely concealed rage (and is that… amusement?), his entire body straining against the shackles that hold him. Then, his eyes slip from you to a point just over your shoulder.

It’s then that you realize: Luffy’s not snoring anymore.

11. to reap and to sow

You’re never quite certain of how the Merry’s crew seems to always just wriggle out of frankly gruesome and untimely deaths, but here you are, racing for the docks like your lives depended on it. Because, well, it kind of does.

“Remind me —” you shout between pants, one hand clutched firmly in Zoro’s, the other doing its best to lift the ridiculous dinner dress they’d put you in — a confection of lace and tulle, the bodice laced with pale pink satin ribbon, “how the hell did you guys manage to trick my parents into thinking you’d eaten the spiked food?”

Sanji flashes you a toothy grin, “Ah love… you know how it is — ask us no questions, and we’ll tell you no lies!”

Luffy, however, whoops as he launches himself from a pair of solid brick buildings, catapulting himself over your sprinting crew.

“We just — pretended to eat! I mean — I did kinda actually eat a bit — but — it wasn’t that bad!”

You resist the urge to pinch your nose bridge at the nonchalance with which Luffy is talking about consuming poisoned food, but you’ve only got two hands and both are equally occupied at the moment. You settle for an exasperated sigh.

“That was — really stupid! — What if — they’d — poisoned the food — with something — other than — sleeping medicine?!” you ask, forcing air into your lungs as finally, you all round the bend onto the bustling pier, the Going Merry’s unmistakable shape silhouetted against the misty horizon.

“We can talk when — we’re all back — on the ship!” Nami calls as she sprints passed you, reaching out a hand for Luffy, who’s elongated arm grabs her and slings her onto the deck of the ship. You barely have a second to breathe before Zoro’s arm loops around your waist and you’re being pulled tight into his side.

His breath is hot against your collarbone as he smirks, “Hold on tight, Princess.”

It’s all you can do to listen as you’re suddenly whipped through the air like a doll on a drunken marionette’s string. A bright peal of Luffy-tinted laughter later, you thud onto the deck of the Going Merry, the breath knocked clean from your lungs as the world spins and spins. You’d expected to hit solid wood, or maybe even the railing or the mast but —

Zoro groans beneath you, and it takes you a long second to realize that he’d cushioned your fall, your bodies pressed chest to chest, hip to hip, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders, his still steady around your waist.

“O-oh! Sorry —” you try to pull away but Zoro’s grip on you only tightens.

You freeze as he blinks up at you, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Crown’s crooked,” Zoro finally says, that tell-tale smirk twisting the edge of his lips as his gaze flickers upwards. Your hand jumps to the crown, somehow still clipped into your now disheveled hair, lopping to one side as the braids start to come loose. You purse your lips.

“I never liked it anyway…” You make to tug it out but Zoro reaches up to right it, though he lets his hand linger as he falls along the side of your face.

“Nah, looks good on you.” His voice is so low, and suddenly, air is such a language that you’re certain you’d forgotten how to speak. Slowly, he pushes up till you’re both sitting, you still pressed against him and him still pressed against you. Distantly, you can hear shouting, Usopp’s voice raised high over the wind as the Merry careens out of port and towards the open sea.

But strangely, no one makes to pull you away from him, or him from you.

“I should’ve told you guys…” you say, eyes casting down as you rest your palms against his chest. Beneath it, you can feel his heart — pounding, pounding, pounding. There’s a light sheen of sweat glimmering on his honeyed skin as you swallow, looking back up even as he chuckles.

“Sure, but we should’ve asked.”

You bite your lips, “I think you did.”

Zoro grins, shrugging as he helps you up, somehow managing to keep his arm slipped around your waist.

“Well. Should’ve asked better, then.”

12. lost stars

It takes you a while to tell them the story — the real story, the whole story. And there’s drinking involved, but it’s mostly just you clutching at your half-filled glass, Zoro’s knee pressed comfortingly against yours, even though his eyes are closed, his head leaned back, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

You tell them about the dark underbelly of royalty that everyone knows but no one wants to talk about — the blood and teeth beneath the silk and silver. You tell them about being raised a bargaining chip, of being sold and promised like a prized heifer on auction day.

You tell them about the moonless nights when the only thing you had to keep you company was the cold, about the “lessons” your mother would teach you, about how the maids would be instructed to hide the bruises just so, about the Prince who you were set to marry and the rumors that plagued his castle —

“They say that he’d take the prettiest girls from the surrounding town as his maids and that none of them ever walked out of his castle again,” you say. The moonshine burns on its way down your throat as you finish your drink.

Wordlessly, Zoro reaches over to pluck the glass from your hand and set it on the table. It’s only then that you realize your fingers are white and trembling.

“Did he hurt you?”

Zoro’s voice is not loud, but everyone turns to look at him. You shake your head, clasping your hands in your lap.

“No. I only ever… met him once, at a dinner party. It was after that that I… ran away.”

Zoro hums, leaning back again, “Good.”

Across the room, Sanji blows out a series of smoke rings and frowns.

“Were you about to offer to hunt him down?” Robin asks, sounding amused.

Zoro shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered — would’ve just done it.”

“He sounds like the kinda guy we should hunt down anyway, no?” Luffy asks, cocking his head as he looks back at you, “I mean, I’m glad he never hurt you but… he’s still hurting people!”

“Luffy’s got a point,” Sanji says, stubbing out his cigarette.

“For once, I agree with Sanji,” Nami says.

There’s a light squabble during which Sanji makes an aggrieved noise and Nami rolls her eyes, and then everyone is laughing and chatting and more drinks are being poured. Next to you, Zoro reaches out to wrap his arm around your waist again. It’s something he’s been doing more lately, and you can’t honestly say that you mind it much at all.

“We don’t have to,” he says, leaning forward, almost as if to brush his lips by your ear, “if… if you don’t want to.”

You shiver at the base rumble of his voice, at the way his eyes are so warm and full of some uncertain promise.

“No, I… I do want to. It’s just…”

Zoro’s fingers trace small, absent-minded circles into the skin of your waist and you fight down another shiver.

“I don’t plan on letting you get kidnapped again, Princess.”

Your gaze snaps up to meet Zoro’s, and there’s a faint smile kissing the line of his lips. And suddenly, the lightness of his touch doesn’t feel so thoughtless as heat curls out from the place where his palm meets your skin, radiating out till you’re breathless with it.

“Oh?”

“Never liked people trying to take what’s mine.”

And the dark possessiveness with which he says mine leaves little room for interpretation, even as you lick your lips and try to think of something witty to say.

“I don’t remember agreeing to be yours.”

It’s the best you can come up with; Zoro’s only response is a soft, contemplative grunt.

“What’s that saying? ‘Actions speak louder than words’?” he flashes you a satisfied grin as you narrow your eyes at him, swatting at his chest as he laughs.

“I meant it though,” he says, a moment later, as the rest of the crew all chatter around you, “about calling it off if you don’t want to. But…” he reaches up a free hand to tug a strand of your hair free from the ponytail it’s tied up in.

“Figured you might sleep better at night knowing he’s gone.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding, your whole body softening as you lean into him, pressing your palms to his chest as he looks at you.

“Yeah… I think I might. And… like you said… it’s not like I’m gonna get kidnapped again.”

You smile, letting your eyes flicker down to Zoro’s lips. His smile is pleased and just a little jagged as he tugs you up by the hand and the pair of you slip from the room.

Above deck, the sun is setting, and the warm, slanted light casts the entire ship in a glaze of gold that looks almost gilded. You lean against the railings, closing your eyes and letting the warmth of the sun seep into your skin, chasing away the chill that’d been lingering at your fingertips since you’d all made your spectacular escape from your home island.

You feel rather than hear Zoro join you. You take your time breathing in the salty tang of the humid sea air before opening your eyes and slating him a side-long look.

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“For coming after me.”

Zoro scoffs, turning away from the roiling waves to lean back against the railings, his head cocked as he looks you over.

“Like I said… I don’t like it when people try to take what’s mine.”

But this time, you laugh, nodding, “So you’ve said. But still… thanks.”

“Hn.”

Zoro closes his eyes, seemingly enjoying the last vestiges of the setting sun as it sinks ever-lower along the horizon. Then, he opens one eye to peer at you.

“Though I’ve been meaning to ask —”

“Hm?”

“What’s this about doing more than biting… if asked about it nicely enough?”

You try to duck your head but Zoro catches your chin in his fingers.

“I — I just… knew it would piss off my mother if she —”

“Mm, sounded like more than that to me.”

Your breath hitches as Zoro’s thumb traces a rough line along your bottom lip.

“How about… I show you?” and the offer is barely out of your mouth before Zoro is kissing you, his mouth seeking out yours with a soft groan that betrays all the lightness in his touch as he trails his free hand down your arm to pull hard at your waist.

And it’s not the first time you’ve kissed. It’s not even the first time a kiss with Zoro has become more than just a kiss, though you’d always been careful before to make sure that he knew (though thinking back, it might’ve just been an ill-fated attempt at lying to yourself) that the pleasure shared between bodies was just that — pleasure and bodies.

But this — this kiss becomes, and becomes.

It becomes breath and heartbeats, pleasure and heat. It becomes truth and promises and the tantalizing taste of fairy-tale endings.

“Z-Zoro…”

“Yes Princess?”

You hiss as his teeth grazes along your pulse point and your fingers fist in his hair.

“Y’know…” your voice comes out as nothing more than a soft pant as Zoro tugs you over to one of the reclining chairs beneath the orange trees and pulls you over his hips, “I’ve never liked being called that but…”

“But?” his thumbs inch beneath the material of your shirt, circling your hipbones as he smirks up at you.

“I don’t mind it when it’s you.”

Zoro’s grin goes wide and wolfish. Above him, the first stars spark into being as the sun finally sinks beyond the far horizon. For a second, his smile softens as he reaches up to toy with the end of the pale pink ribbon in your hair. Then, he gives it a single, solid tug, and your hair falls open around your shoulders, tumbling down in waves.

Zoro leans up to press a light kiss to the blood-stained satin before letting it flutter off in the wind, twisting into the rapidly darkening night.

“Good… cause I ain’t about to let anyone else call you that either.”

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

thinking of mermaids AGAIN sooooooooooooooo

Merman!Ghost x Mermaid!Reader (for Mermay 2024)

cw: dubcon elements, rough sex, SELF-INDULGENT and therefore weird mermaid biology, (suspend disbelief idk and idc about mermaid biology, i just wanted to write ghost fucking a mermaid.), forced?-ish breeding (both parties were aware of the risks)

Merman!Ghost who's actually a selkie... of sorts.

Merman!Ghost who took the coat of a GREAT Greenland shark over three centuries ago and has lived as a shark ever since...

Merman!Ghost who's a deep dweller and has become quite the hunter, using the darkness of the depths to attract dumb prey so he can kill them.

Merman!Ghost who's not above mauling humans, in fact he despises them, especially when he finds them hurting animals. Sure, he kills them, but he's an animal himself.

Merman!Ghost who when he's bored causes issues on purpose, including scaring fish and other underwater life, and finds great humour in it.

Merman!Ghost who constantly gives trouble to fishing boats by trying to sink them, slamming his tail on the side of them to send them rocking side to side... and by ripping their nets with his teeth...

Merman!Ghost who has had horror stories and cautionary tales told of him by many navigators, pirate captains, sailor crews... who has become somewhat of a legend, a myth, and gets referred to as "The Creature".

Merman!Ghost who's not immune to mermaid song, surprisingly enough, but who can resist it plenty well.

Merman!Ghost who hears the lilting of your voice through the dark water but doesn't seek you out.

Merman!Ghost who succeeds in resisting... for days, weeks, months...

Merman!Ghost who awakes to the endless sound of your singing bubbling into his ears, and gets lulled to sleep by it as well.

Merman!Ghost who finds himself going insane by your voice, that follows him like a backdrop for every waking moment of his life, and cannot tune it out.

Merman!Ghost who eventually bites the bait and allows himself to rise from his domain.

Merman!Ghost follows your voice as it carries for miles upon miles.

Merman!Ghost who comes across a natural cave by the beach. Way too close to the beach. Close enough for him to know he'll end up washing up and getting stuck.

Merman!Ghost who checks both sides, making sure the beach is empty before he tentatively strips off his coat for the first time in years.

Merman!Ghost who stashes his coat between the rocks, covering it with algae before he dares venture into the cave.

Merman!Ghost who can't see as easily without the shark eyes, who can't swim as well without the shark fins, who can barely walk because all his human muscles are atrophied.

Merman!Ghost who wades in waist deep water into the darkness of the cave, looking around for you, his burly, calloused hands using the rocks as crutches to seek you out.

Merman!Ghost who only notices you when it's too late... when your song suddenly stops and the water splashes as you dive back in.

Merman!Ghost who watches you zoom past him in the water, a slippery fishtail propelling you in a zigzag amidst the rocks before you emerge out of the cave.

Merman!Ghost who watches you grab his shark coat and try to make off with it...

Merman!Ghost who takes his sweet time returning back to the mouth of the cave, watching you bob on the water with a mischievous smirk on your lips.

Merman!Ghost who demands "Give it back."

Merman!Ghost who scowls when you tell him "No." and "If you want it back, you have to marry me."

Merman!Ghost who crosses his arms and glares at you, shaking his head and refusing.

Merman!Ghost who scowls even more when you tell him "Then I guess it's bye bye to your skin.".

Merman!Ghost who despises being a human more than he despises the prank you're pulling on him.

Merman!Ghost who tries to negotiate and offers you something in exchange for his coat.

Merman!Ghost who pushes you against the rocks at the entrance of the cave as the cold water and seafoam wash over you both while he kisses you, pressing his tongue, the only warm part of his body, into your mouth, toying with yours.

Merman!Ghost who licks at the salty sea water glistening on your skin and the scales adorning your pretty neck, an arm wrapped around the small of your back.

Merman!Ghost whose human fingers, pale and wrinkled from the salt water, wrap around your exposed breast, softly tugging on the pert nipple while his mouth kisses and sucks at the patches of skin amidst your scales.

Merman!Ghost who tsk's at you for having been singing for so long to attract him, and scolds you for getting him so riled up for weeks on end with your song.

Merman!Ghost whose hands push you up onto the rocks so he can dip his head down your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it slowly and watching you mewl and cry so beautifully.

Merman!Ghost who gets a reminder of the one positive side of being a human, as his human cock rises up suddenly and stiffly, large and thick, already oozing precum against your tail scales.

Merman!Ghost who carefully grinds his leaking cock against your slick cunt, right before the spot your thighs meet and blend into a tail.

Merman!Ghost who turns you over, bending you over the rocks, one hand on the back of your neck, the other steadying you around the bones of your hip...

Merman!Ghost who plunges his hooded cock deep into your cunt, causing you both to cry out in delight, eyes rolling and jaws going slack as he bottoms out.

Merman!Ghost who bullies his cock deep into your cunny, feeling how your warm, gummy walls contract and squeeze around him while he groans loudly.

Merman!Ghost who pounds away at you again and again, hearing your voice go high-pitched and squeaky with each snap of his hips, finally shattering the mind-numbing and intoxicating mermaid song he's had stuck in his head for weeks.

Merman!Ghost who watches you squirm and whine as you cum around his thick cock, nearly choking it with how tight you get, before he slams his hips against the back of your tail a few more times, and shoots his cum deep inside you.

Merman!Ghost who watches smugly how blissful, quiet and calm you are after he's done, breathing heavily and your body buzzing.

Merman!Ghost who snatches his shark coat from your hands as you're too fucked out to remember you're meant to keep it out of his reach.

Merman!Ghost who puts his shark coat back on and morphs back to the shape he's comfortable in, then wraps his maw around your tired body, beginning to drag you underwater with him.

Merman!Ghost whose body rumbles with a laugh when you try to get free and loosen his grip on you, demanding he let you go.

Merman!Ghost who tells you "I thought you wanted me to be your husband? Well, I made you my broodmare too... Now I have to take care of you."

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 rookanis date plans nobody thought through enjoy🪶

"Ugh." Rook wrings out her hair. The groan comes from so deep inside her Lucanis thinks she might keep it under her toenails. "I'm never getting the stench out."

"Harding did offer you a hairtie, you remember." Not that Lucanis wore one, but he hasn't washed his hair in so long the grease alone might well be a helmet.

"I've put years into getting my hair to retain this curl pattern. Silk bedsheets and beetroot treatment only."

"Beetroot make your hair purple, as well?"

She shrugs, after flipping her wet curls through the air like that siren in the children's tale. The droplets that fly around her may as well be actors of the commedia, so well they play their part.

"It does, but I don't mind. Think it looks cute. Also if I stand in the sun right, it's pink. I got magic hair without being stuffed in a circle!"

She kneels down to pet a stray cat, but the smell of death and blight on their clothes makes it hiss and retreat into the shadows.

Rook huffs.

"You know what I'm doing the next time we're in Treviso?"

How should I know? You never let me talk to her. - She isn't talking to you. - Because you never let me!

"Coffee?" He knows it's not coffee. She's one of those cursed with coffee making her tired. Coffee, she reserves for ending a night, sitting on Treviso's rooftops with Crow Feed and a candlestub (or with bread and a book on a wobbly staircase in an old god's bachelor pad, as the case may be).

But if he doesn't guess now, Spite will start putting words in his mouth. And he rarely has nice things to say. I have no words you'll like.

"Before that. Can't show up like this."

Why not? He thinks. Sure, her pants are a little too tight for her luscious thighs, but all Crows wear tight pants. Even if that were reason the turn her away, she's too short for normal people to notice. Not under her cloak, anyway.

You're not normal people, Lucanis. It occurs to normal people they won't let her sit down because she stinks, not because she's got great legs. Normal people don't stare at their boss's ass like it was Andraste at the Stake. Spite manifests so close to him he can feel his serpent's tongue in his ear canal. He rubs his ear into his pauldron.

"She's not our boss," Lucanis hisses, and were Rook not an elf Crow, she might not even have heard.

As it is, when Lucanis returns his focus to figuring out where Neve had wandered off to, she frowns at him.

"What's he say?"

"It's not important." Lucanis shakes his head. You're not important, Spite says.

"You sure?" If their condition were Spite's prison, he would shake the bars in frustration so hard the walls would come down.

"The picking irritates him. Please, don't."

She leans back against the cart behind her, arms crossed.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to rile him up." She moves over a little when he walks over to join her against that cart. It's a good vantage point on the winding street into the market.

"Why don't you tell me your plans for Treviso before Neve returns with another contact?"

Rook leans her head back into her neck and bares all her teeth when she laughs.

"Want to join?"

"For coffee, certainly."

"Bathhouse, too?"

His clearly off-guard expression makes her laugh so hard she moves to hold her belly and bangs both elbows on the cart.

Quinces and pomegranates fall off the cart and tumble down the road.

🪶

this is experimental and idk if i like it yet. i think I've flirted twice with the man and am lowkey terrified of having messed up my chance at romance with him by playing blind but oh well

WE TAKE OUR Ls ON THE INTERNET WHOOP [Also its 1:30 in the night and the youth club beneath us has been playing the same 2 notes on their bass for like 5 hours now :)]

[~rina]

[stormgrl19]

𝑁𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑 | 𝑃𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑎𝑛

Peter Pan x Fem!reader

Credits: All credits go to the authors / the producers / etc. of the show / the book / the movie. I own my OCs and their plot and any differences from the original plot.

Request: Idk if your requests are closed but if theyre not could you write for peter? Somthing like the reader came to the island to help find henry but shes fascinated with the island and peters fascinated with her? Ty if you can !! < 3 ( @akumazwrld )

Summary: You go to neverland with Emma and the others to help bring Henry back and on one of your secret midnight strolls you meet a really… fascinating boy.

A/n: I am so sorry it took so long! I hope you like it!

Warnings: use of y/n, not proofread /edited/ …

Wc: 799

Part two

You don’t know how many days you had been on this island, just that it couldn’t be a week since you arrived with Emma, Hook and the others to help Henry. Back in Storybrooke you lived alone in an apartment over a flower shop, where you worked. You weren’t a main character of any fairy tale, just a side character with no known family, but before you all got your memories back, you sometimes babysat Henry, which is why you were now here, in neverland.

Walking under the stars, in a jungle with beautiful plants everywhere, you let your mind wander and carefully craft on your silly dream of living here. Nature brought you the feeling of peace, it always had and even so, neverland was dangerous, you somehow knew deep down, that as long you were surrounded by nature, nothing bad would happen to you. It was foolish to rely on your feeling, the others would definitely call you delusional, but neverland was to wonderful to just walk through it, without taking time to really take everything in.

That’s why you had been secretly going on little adventures to explore the mystical island, while everyone else was sleeping. So far you had seen a lot of trees, flowers and last night you saw for the second time in your life real mermaids! If you hadn’t had to be silent you would’ve squealed like a child on Christmas. The more you saw of the island the less you wanted to go back to your boring and lonely life in Storybrooke. Why would you, when you could life here? Explore the island until you knew it like the back of your hand, nature always by your side and (and know you were really far gone from any reality) befriend the mermaids, swimming together and play around.

 Walking slowly, you stopped right before you walked into a bush with dark green leaves. It was dark, but the moon shone through the trees and you could see the little thorns. The stems looked like they were black and without any logical reason you reached your hand out.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Hastily you withdraw you hand and turned around. Before you, a few meters away was a boy, looking at you with an arrogant smirk and his hands crossed before his chest, while leaning on a tree.

“Why?” You asked, cursing silently for not bringing something to defend yourself.

“Because that is dreamshade. It is poisonous,“ he answered, still looking, no scanning you with his eyes.

“Oh.” You looked around, searching for a way to escape.

“Well, I think I have to go, so… It was nice meeting you?” The last sentence sounded like a question, but you really had to get away from him. He probably was one, of the people that held Henry captive.

He laughed and pushed himself off the tree, walking to you. Now you could get a better look on his face, and God was he handsome, but you really shouldn’t talk to him, should you?

“That was certainly a short meeting. I don’t even know your name.”

“Yeah, well-“ You stocked. Talking to him couldn’t be that bad and maybe he could help you with Henry? “Only if you tell me yours!”

His brow raised and he answered: “Ah, a little trade? My name for yours?”

“Seems fair, don’t you think?”

He hummed, “You can begin.”

“I can- fine. Hi, I am Y/n!”

“Y/n? That is a pretty name.”

“Yes, now tell me yours!”

“So impatient, are you? Don’t worry, I always stick to my word.” “So?”

He chuckled and walked closer to you, only three steps away from you.

“Hi, I’m Peter.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, it couldn’t be…

“Peter as in Peter Pan?” you asked hesitantly.

His eyes darkened and his smile changed from arrogant to something more… dangerous.

“Why, yes!”

“I really have to go now.” Panic was a feeling you knew all too well in this moment.

“Not so fast!” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around.

“I know why you and your friends are here - without my permission by the way - but-“ he leaned in, now only centimetres apart from your face “You won’t succeed. You hear me? I always win.”

He stepped back: “You should go now before your friends wake up!”

He sent you one of his smirks and seconds later he was gone.

You stared at the spot, were he stood only seconds ago. Scrunching up your face, you think about how you thought of him as handsome, he really is, with his hair, and his green eyes and-

You had to focus! You crushing on the enemy was not helping or useful.

At least you now knew: neverland was really fascinating.

[momonyu]

the one that (almost) got away

roronoa zoro x fem!reader

it takes him 12 hours to realize

3.6k words

a/n: ok listen, i think i started writing this like 6+ months ago and it’s just been sitting in my drafts bc idk how to commit to endings so y’all are gonna have to take this as it is. also i have no concept of how sailing works or how long it takes oops

9:00 pm

“y'know, there's really no point to a farewell party if the one leaving isn't there.”

you look up from your spot on the library floor. your eyes land on the green-haired swordsman leaning against the doorframe and you smile.

“i’ll be there in a second. i just have some more stuff to go through.”

zoro eyes the mess of books surrounding you, recognizing a few of nami’s atlases and robin’s textbooks. “you haven’t finished packing yet?”

“i’m mostly done. i’m just trying to decide which books i want to keep.” catching his eye, you joke, “why? you want me gone that bad?”

crossing the room, a scoff leaves his lips. nothing could be further from the truth.

“you got me. i am so sick of you,” he says with a grin. “can’t wait to get rid of the annoying librarian invading my napping spot.”

zoro plops down on the bench behind you, catching a whiff of your shampoo as he lies down. you sit with your back to him, sorting through your piles, but zoro can hear the smile in your voice when you speak.

“you’re such a pretender, eh?”

zoro puts on a look of overdramatic offense, a hand on his chest. “me? you’re talking about me?”

at his poor acting, you turn around. you rest your chin on the bench, your face so close to zoro’s that one could only describe it as a kissable distance.

“you act like i'm all in your space, but nami told me that you never used to spend any time in here at all!”

“pfft, why would you ever trust what that con artist has to say?” zoro pokes your forehead. “you see it with your own eyes. am i or am i not here every day?”

you purse your lips as you think back to the last few months; he’s right.

you’ve spent most of your days in the ship’s library, and zoro has almost always stopped by. in the beginning, it would be for a few minutes, but over the last little while, he’d be in here as long as you were.

zoro smiles as he watches you think, eyebrows furrowed as you replay the last few months in your head. little do you know that this is exactly why the library is his new hideout. watching your pretty little mind work — doing what you love, thinking and studying and reading — is a far better use of his spare time than anything else he could be doing.

“anyway,” he says. “i guess your silly star stories have been a good trade-off.”

now it’s your turn to be mock-offended.

“silly star stories? you’re the one who asked about the constellations in the first place!”

“only because you kept talking about these fictional gods like they actually did something important.”

“says the guy who's completely enthralled by hades,” you roll your eyes.

“king of hell, god of the underworld,” he grins. “that’s my kinda guy.”

zoro laughs when you shake your head at him. he’ll never tire of teasing you; you are far too adorable with your little sigh and a ghost of a smile on your lips.

“did you know,” he says with a playful look. “that you still owe me about ten more constellation stories? d’you think you could squeeze in one more before we head up?”

zoro smiles at you, and you can't help but smile back. 

you have so many treasured memories with zoro in this library; ones of just the two of you (him napping while you studied), ones with nami and robin (and sanji until nami kicked the boys out for their incessant bickering), and ones where the night listens in as you recite the history of the stars.

whether you were telling the story of another righteous deity enacting justice, or the tale of mere mortals who insulted the gods, zoro would listen with his eyes closed, lying across the bench as he is now, and you’d sit in front of him as you are now.

everyone’s waiting for you upstairs and you hate to disappoint, but some things are more important — like telling a silly star story to a silly swordsman.

“of course i can.”

12:00 am

raucous laughter and cheering that’s loud enough to deafen anybody; empty plates, once piled high with food, now scattered around the room; bottles on bottles of sake and rum and whiskey and every liqueur that one would hope to find on a pirate ship.

these are zoro’s requirements for a good time, and suffice to say that your farewell party has them all in spades.

zoro watches his friends’ tomfoolery from his spot at the table (currently, luffy’s trying to get franky to see how far he can slingshot him) when you plop yourself into the seat beside him.

“this,” you say as your arm knocks against his, “is the best party i’ve ever been to.”

zoro takes a swig from his glass, “you haven’t partied until you’ve partied with pirates.”

“seriously! you guys are insane!”

as if to prove your point, franky chooses that exact moment to show off a juggling sequence involving a barrel of whiskey, a giant potted plant, and a squealing chopper.

you gasp at the spectacle but quickly dissolve into laughter when nami saves chopper, and it’s with both awe and pure excitement that you turn to zoro. laughter is etched into your lips, your cheeks are flushed, and zoro can’t help but marvel at how you’re even cuter when you’re having fun.

“what, you’ve never seen a cyborg man toss a speaking reindeer in the air before?”

you nudge him with your elbow, “well, excuse me for leading such a mundane life where animals don’t speak and men don’t tinker with their bodies.”

“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.”

you look at zoro quizically.

he takes a sip of his beer, “most men do tinker with their bodies.”

it takes you a moment to catch his innuendo and zoro roars with laughter when the realization hits you. embarrassment tinges your pretty face and you shove him with a loud “ew, zoro!” but he can’t stop cackling.

“you’re disgusting!”

you make to swat zoro across the chest but he quickly catches your hand. he leans in to waggle his eyebrows at you, “but i’m not wrong, am i?”

you groan loudly, which only makes him laugh again.

perhaps it’s the alcohol that let his inhibitions go, or maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t have much longer with you, but when you hastily change the subject and there’s no longer a reason for him to still be holding your hand, he doesn’t let go.

when nami joins you two, his fingers slips between yours and to his surprise, yours do the same. sanji joins your threesome, then franky and robin, and in no time at all, it’s no longer just the two of you at the table.

but zoro doesn’t care.

drunk, carefree, and more content than he’s ever been, zoro closes his eyes and smiles. he lives in the moment, and in this moment, he’s happy — happy with a full stomach and a full glass, happy to be surrounded by his favourite people, and happy that, under the table, you’re still holding his hand.

3:00 am

“and what’s that one?”

hands swinging between you, you and zoro dodge the tide as you roam further and further from the thousand sunny. the sand is cool under your feet and the tide kisses your toes with each step. your other arm is stretched above you, pointing at a constellation in the distance.

“what is this - a pop quiz?”

you smile, “i want to make sure you don’t forget about my ‘silly star stories.’”

zoro groans, “has anyone told you that holding grudges isn’t healthy? keeping going and you’ll turn into a bitter old thing some day.”

you stick out your tongue, “you’re just afraid you’ll get it wrong.”

“wrong?” zoro scoffs. “i’ve gotten the past six right.”

walking along the beach, you and zoro fall in step with each other and your footsteps match the ebbing waves in perfect rhythm. you smile in his direction and his chest is flooded with a warmth that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’s consumed.

“alright, let’s see what we got here.”

zoro follows your gaze at the cluster of stars you’ve chosen, and he grins when he sees the constellation. “really? at least try to make this hard for me, please.”

his cocky attitude leaves you speechless, making zoro laugh. 

“you’re so annoying!” you shove him with your free hand and the force of his stumble pulls you along, and you shriek as he drags you into the ocean with him. he doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second — not when water splashes your legs, not when zoro’s pants get soaked as he spins you around. 

your laughter is warmth in its purest form, the kind that you can feel all the way down to your cold toes. when he sets you back down, you give his hand a little squeeze, to which zoro answers back with a tender smile.

now with wet feet and a distance between you that’s even smaller than it already was, zoro continues to walk alongside you.

“moving on from your pathetic distraction attempt,” — you let out a dramatic gasp — “i’ll tell you exactly who we were looking at.”

pointing at the starry zodiac sign, zoro speaks with complete confidence.

“virgo the maiden, otherwise known as persephone, wife and muse of the best god of them all, hades—”

“fanboy much?” you tease but zoro pretends not to hear you (the little tug of his lips tells you that he does).

“—who snuck her a pomegranate seed because he couldn’t bear for her to leave him.”

zoro puffs his chest with pride, relishing in this one niche study of which he is now an expert. it’s incredibly endearing how pleased he is with his answer and you almost feel bad for correcting him.

almost.

“good answer,” you grin. “but you left out the little detail about how she was kept in hell against her will.”

zoro gasps, “are you accusing my idol of being a kidnapper?”

“your idol!” your cheeks already hurt so much from smiling but another giggle slips out. “first of all, these aren’t my accusations. historians have told their love story this way for years—”

“slander is what this is.”

“—and secondly, why would you want to look up to hades? he’s literally the antagonist in every story.”

“he’s the king of hell! that’s so bad ass.” zoro winks at you, “don’t be surprised if you hear them calling me ‘zoro, king of hell’ some day.”

“what’s wrong, demon of east blue doesn’t go hard enough for you?”

embarrassment rushes to zoro’s face and he’s never been more grateful for the night. “who told you that? was it usopp or nami? i bet it was nami.”

“i might hold a grudge but i don’t snitch,” you flash a mischievous smile. “anyway, let’s get back to how you want to be just like devil who tricked a poor girl in returning to the underworld.”

“come on, can you blame a man for doing whatever it takes to stop his beloved from leaving him?”

it sounds like an innocent question — harmless banter, really — but something in the way he says it makes you stop dead in your tracks. a silence falls and in its wake, all you can do is stare at the man you’ve spent the last several months with, the same man that you have to say goodbye to tomorrow.

moonlight falls unto the both of you and bathes zoro in soft light. it illuminates his eyes and when you meet his gaze, you see a sense of longing there that you feel in your chest. a longing for what, you don’t know — or rather, you don’t want to know.

at least, not yet.

so you hold his hand a little tighter, and underneath the watchful eye of the gods and constellations, muster a smile,

“i guess not.”

6:00 am

if this was any other morning, zoro would be awake and working out already. he'd be done his fourth set of bicep curls or, at the very least, working on his form. he could even be in the middle of deadlifts (because he knows not to skip leg day), but he definitely wouldn't still be in bed the way that he is right now.

the thing is though, if this was any other morning, he wouldn't have you sleeping next to him, curled into him like you were made to be a perfect fit.

he's never been more glad to still be in bed.

your breath matches the rise and fall of zoro's chest, perfectly in rhythm with the waves outside his window and the beat of his heart, like the universe meant for all these things to be in harmony at this one singular moment in time.

your lashes flutter in response when he shifts his weight.

he takes a peek at you, “psst, are you awake?”

eyes still closed, you manage a noncommittal grunt but your body says otherwise.

zoro can’t help but smile as he watches you start to wake up. your toes wiggle beneath the covers and you rub your eyes before looking up at him with an adorably sleepy look that he would love to wake up to every day. 

if only he could.

you focus your gaze on zoro like he’s an anchor in a sea of slumber. the way that you look at him, as if he’s the only thing that you see, fills his chest with a golden warmth akin to the breaking dawn.

you offer him a soft smile, and zoro wonders if the sun knows that you glow brighter than it ever could.

“why are you up at this ungodly hour?”

he chuckles, low and tender, “’m used to it. i’m usually up by now.”

“freak,” you mutter. zoro laughs, and you can’t think of anything else that sounds more beautiful at six in the morning.

you’re not usually up this early but what you notice is that, at dawn, time has a habit of moving slowly. it’s as if the morning casts magic upon those who rise with the daylight — and you’re so thankful for that.

because if time moved any faster than this, you’d have to say goodbye that much sooner.

“are you going to miss us?” zoro puts his arms around you.

you murmur into his chest, “of course, i will.”

“who do you think you’ll miss the most?” 

you give pause and zoro’s almost certain you can hear his heart beating a little louder — he can definitely hear it. he doesn’t typically get nervous like this but, then again, nothing about the way you make him feel is typical.

you seem to have come to a conclusion because you look up at zoro and he holds his breath. 

“sanji.”

he blinks.

“wait, are you serious?”

you’ve never seen zoro looks so wonderfully scandalized before, and you burst into a fit of giggles. as soon as you start, he knows he’s been had. he scowls but only for a moment; for who could be upset in the presence of such twinkling laughter?

 “silly man,” you snuggle closer, "of course i’m not serious.”

“okay, good.” you can hear the smile in his voice. “i don’t know if my ego could handle losing to him.”

zoro holds you close, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. his movements are slow, steady, comforting — ‘round and ‘round, in the same spot, like he’s drawing an invisible mark that is only known to the two of you.

"but, you know,” you hum, careful not to disrupt the peace. “you wouldn’t.”

“wouldn’t what?”

“lose.” and after a beat, you quietly add, “you wouldn’t lose to anyone.”

and just like that, zoro’s on cloud nine, airborne and weightless. he’s always known that he has a place in your heart, but this is the first time that you’ve ever hinted about where that place may be. if he allowed himself to be hopeful, it almost sounds like a confession. 

but almost isn’t good enough for him. zoro wants more — wants to find out exactly where he belongs in your life, wants to know if he can make himself at home there. 

it’s a shame that he’s out of time.

you interrupt his thoughts with a whisper, barely audible above the sound of the ocean and his aching heart,

“will you miss me?” 

more than anything.

9:00 am

surely, zoro’s dream to be hades has been granted. otherwise, why would it feel like he’s in hell, standing on the deck, all alone and watching your dinghy sail away from the thousand sunny?

zoro’s had his fair shares of farewells while aboard the ship, and to be honest, yours wasn’t any more emotional than anyone else’s. you left with a smile as beautiful as the morning sun and with far less tears than he expected (which he’s thankful for because he would hate to see you cry). as far as bittersweet goodbyes go, yours was definitely more sweet than bitter.

and yet, here zoro stands, with a bad taste in his mouth that he can’t explain. he can still see you from where he stands, and watching your little boat in the distance is the only thing that seems to settle his uneasy heart. 

should he have bid adieu privately? maybe he should’ve left you with a memento of some kind? should he have done more than offer you a quick hug? was it his imagination, or did you hold onto him just a beat longer than you needed to?

zoro’s so occupied by these messy thoughts that he doesn’t even hear sanji approach him.

“well?”

startled, zoro can only stare at the blond cook. ignoring the dumb look on his face, sanji continues.

“what’d she say when you told her?” sanji nods in the direction of your boat.

“told her what?”

“that you love her,” sanji takes a drag of his cigarette, looking at zoro directly now.

he speaks so frankly, so matter-of-fact and candidly, that it takes zoro a second to really register what it is that he’s saying. 

he loves you.

and as soon as he thinks it, the truth comes barreling through all the doubts clouding his head. clarity floods his chest as he comes face-to-face with what his yearning, pining heart has been trying to tell him this whole time.

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you-

fuck.

he loves you.

and he never told you.

epilogue — 9:30 am

sails closed, your boat floats with the current and the salty breeze reminds you that your adventure with the strawhats has come to a close. compared to the never-ending bustle of the crew, it’s almost too quiet being at sea alone. the silence lends itself to your overactive mind, working full time to unravel the tightness you feel in your chest.

you’re lost in thoughts of what could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve been — so much so that you don’t even hear the commotion behind you. it’s not until you hear zoro call your name that you hear the frantic swimming and you whirl around.

“zoro! what-”

“can you help me first?” he splutters.

you pull yourself together long enough to run to the side of your dinghy, pulling a sopping wet pirate on board. zoro leans back, trying to catch his breath as you rummage through your things.

“are you crazy? do you know how far we are from the sunny?” you throw a towel over him before reaching for another. you start drying off his hair, frantically fussing over him.

“you think that just because chopper gives you the clearance that you can push yourself over the limit-”

“y/n.”

“this is why you’re always on house arrest! you’re actually insane, you know that?”

“y/n.”

“i know you work out, but for goodness’ sake, zoro, you’re only human-”

“y/n.” zoro holds your wrists, forcing you to stop with a start.

in all your worrying, you didn’t realize that you’d been gravitating closer to zoro until you’re staring into his dark, obsidian eyes. there’s clarity in the way that he looks at you. his eyes are shining with a fierceness that you’ve only seen in his worst fights, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.

because you know that this will change everything.

“hades and persephone.”

“huh?“ you blink at him. “did you hit your head-”

“ask me if i think hades loved persephone.”

you stare into zoro’s eyes, desperation reflecting back at you. there’s a hidden question there and you understand immediately.

quietly, you ask, "do you think hades loved persephone?”

“i do,” he whispers. “i think he loved her and he would've been stupid to let her go.”

your breath catches. zoro places a hand over yours, surprisingly warm as his fingers find their home between your own.

the heavens watch on as the two of you finally open your hearts and give way to the stuff that myths and legends yearn for — a connection that can only be described as fated, destined, purely and resplendently magical.

the gods smile at the two lovers who find themselves falling into each other, laughing as you confess, over and over again,

i love you.

[makkir0ll]

setting the past (part one/ prologue)

ukai x reader.

wc: 837

synopsis: you coach a volleyball team, one of the best in the country known for having mostly recruited players. you take pride in the fact that you have led your team to win a national championship title. And with the news of the rising team karasuno, your interest is piqued, mainly because that was your old school. you had known that they were nicknamed the "fallen crows" and such, so hearing about their fast improvement you decide you want to see it for yourself. you call up the school and takeda picks up. you organize a practice match for later that week.

but what you don't realize is that their coach is your highschool ex.

a/n: woohoo finally finished part one of idk how many. i haven't written since my wattpad days and i have so many good ideas for this fic so i hope y'all enjoy this. i just need to like collect my thoughts and put them in order because thinking about the plot my brain goes like 100 mph but then when i actually have to write it, suddenly im illiterate.

anyways enjoy this!!

masterlist

Once practice concluded, and the clatter of equipment being stowed away subsided, the Karasuno boys formed a line in front of Ukai and Takeda, anticipating any last-minute announcements before dispersing.

".. and make sure you're eating well and getting enough rest. That's all I have to say for today," Ukai stated firmly, his arms crossed as he surveyed the team.

Takeda cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the eager players. "Yes, indeed. I know this is short notice, but the coach from Kozue Highschool reached out for a practice match later this week, and I accepted."

"HUH?" The boys chorused in a mix of surprise and excitement. A practice match against the reigning national champions was unexpected, to say the least.

"Didn't they win nationals last year?" Daichi questioned, his brows furrowing with intrigue.

"Did they? I'm not sure but you know more than I do." Takeda replies with a smile. "But apparently, their coach is an alumna of Karasuno," He glances at Ukai. "Y/N, I believe? Do you know her? She might be from the same graduating class as you"

Ukai's reaction to your name didn't escape notice. He knew exactly who you were—the pride of Japan's under-19 women's team and, to add a twist, his high school sweetheart.

"Yeah, I know her," Ukai replied, turning to the players. "That means this won't be an easy match. Not only because Kozue is a national champion, but also because Y/N is coaching them. She was- is one of the best womens volleyball player. So think expect nothing less from her team. Be prepared to face some formidable opponents."

"WOW! A NATIONAL CHAMPION TEAM! I CAN'T WAIT TO PLAY WITH THEM!" Hinata exclaimed, his excitement palpable. "I won't lose to them!"

"Yeah, me neither," Ukai thought to himself, his expression unreadable.

After practice, as the Karasuno third years made their way home, Suga couldn't help but bring up the tension surrounding Ukai and you.

"So, Y/N is definitely Coach's ex, right?" Suga prodded, casting a knowing glance at his companions.

"Oh, absolutely," they agreed. They continued to discuss the possibilities as they walked home.

Ah, the history between you and Ukai. It was a tale of high school romance, filled with shared lunches, mutual support at games, and stolen moments in the clubroom. But graduation day shattered those dreams, as Ukai chose to explore college life, leaving you heartbroken and struggling to move on.

But some wounds never truly heal. Ukai remained a lingering presence in your thoughts, the memory of him etched into your heart as your first love, your first heartbreak.

Little did you know the storm brewing ahead as you prepared for the practice match against your alma mater, Karasuno Highschool.

The bus ride back to Miyagi was quiet, your team fast asleep behind you. As the bus slowed to a halt, you felt a surge of excitement—the familiarity of your hometown, the anticipation of facing your old school.

Karasuno High. The memories flooded back as you recognized the school's facade. Your stomach churned with excitement and nerves as you led your team off the bus.

"...twelve, thirteen, fourteen, yep! That's everyone," you counted, gently tapping your players as they stumbled out of the bus, still half-asleep.

"Why are we playing at a school two hours away again?" Haru, your team captain, yawned.

"Because, one, I used to go here back in the day, and two, I heard they're really good now. I'm excited to see what they look like. It'll be good practice," you explained, walking into the school towards the old gym where you spent multiple late nights after practice. you hear the familiar sound of volleyballs hitting the ground grow louder the more you walk toward the ajar door.

But what you didn't anticipate was a volleyball hurtling towards your face. Instinctively, you raised your arms, but it never struck you. A familiar figure stood beside you, his presence startling.

Ukai Keishin.

You were at a loss for words. It couldn't be him. Yet, there he was, saving you from a potential injury.

"Hinata, you can't be receiving like that!" Ukai's voice cut through the air, snapping you back to reality. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

"What are you doing here?" you managed to ask, your tone sharp, eyes narrowed.

"What does it look like, Y/N?" he retorted with a teasing smirk. "Same reason you're here, I suppose."

You couldn't believe your luck—running into your high school ex at a crucial moment. Hoping to avoid any further interaction, you turned away and made your way to your team.

"Thank you for having us here," you bowed to the Karasuno team, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. As you started stretching with your team, your mind raced, your gaze occasionally drifting to Ukai. Your usual composure faltered, and your team couldn't help but notice.

This practice was shaping up to be far more challenging than you had hoped.

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #27

The Battle of Big Wand

Part 2 of reacting to this episode (spoiler-free)!

Cosmo talking about the Big Wand going down: Better check with I.T. Hazel: Just I.T.? No fancy fairy name?

why is this so funny to me

Y'know... I've have a post in my drafts for ages that mocks Anti-Cosmo's castle entrance for not being wheelchair-friendly (because the road is covered in spikes). If he took over and then put spikes on this new road, I'm gonna lose it.

OH, I NAILED my "After thinking about it, this is my final answer" prediction. Dev is in the house! oh, good gravy.

This is the second time he's tried to be a king, and I think it's funny he hasn't tried to be a company president or anything. Not fantasy enough for him.

It's stupid funny to me that Dev just turned 10 and he's got impressive muscles when he flexes. what is this child doing- bench pressing solid gold??

We've been robbed of Dev wishing himself into one of the puzzle games he likes and getting buried under, like... Tetris blocks and having to claw his way out.

That might make a good 'fic; I feel like "wishing to be inside an app" is very correct for him.

??? whaaat does he have? He's got portable wishes of some kind? Is it a shooting star? oh, goodness. Let me think, let me think...

!! Crocker has these in the finale of Jimmy Timmy Power Hour 1. He throws them at the ground near fairy guards to poof them into animals. They're grenades. lmao, Dev got into the Fairy Armory.

Canonically, the Fairy Armory is the only place in Fairy World that still has power during outages, so... epic magic fight with weapons?? Ooooh, I hope so!

Irep is back, I knew it!! Part of me suspected he wouldn't be here because he's not really known for being a team player, but I'm glad he is :) Let's go Anti-Fairies!!

I'm delighted Anti-Cosmo isn't taking lead. Also, for some reason it's hilarious to me that Irep is focused on Hazel and not interested in addressing Cosmo or Wanda. He used to greet them as Auntie and Uncle, and now he's like "I don't need their approval or love."

Uh-oh... Has he sorted out his needy issues? If he's too old for naps and we can't bribe him with hugs, how will we defeat him??

I wanted to see if he uses their honoraries in "Fairly Odd Fairy Tales" (since he does it when he's being polite and I knew he was offering food). He doesn't, but I like how Wanda straight-up fed her nephew an apple that puts him to sleep until his true love kisses him, then looks dead at the viewer and says "And then we all lived happily ever after." Is the implication that no one will ever love him, so he's unconscious forever?? omg. Wanda's very black and white view of things is so incredibly funny to me, especially since she grew up in a mob family.

I'm excited to see Dev and the Anti-Fairies. Who would win: the species that invented papercuts, or a little boy who longs for lemonade?

Are you telling me Cosmo and Anti-Cosmo are BOTH intimidated by Irep now? Either this is about to be super funny, or they've switched.

Did Anti-Cosmo finally step up his parenting? Not out of the question; in Season 10, Foop was in time-out for putting spiders in his spaghetti.

(How ironic, considering Foop liked eating spiders).

I rewound and Cosmo jumps when the magic hits, before he sees Irep, so he's not necessarily afraid of him. Also, keeping my fingers crossed for anti-family interactions. I'm really looking forward to a face-off between Irep and Peri; their banter is my favorite and we didn't get much in "Best of Luck."

I'm so glad that despite changing his name, Irep presents himself with the same flair he always did. He is the same person...

omg, his little cufflinks. He's adorable.

For some reason, I've called him "posh British boy" in two previous posts, but... idk why, because he's literally never been posh and I know that. I'm glad he looks like his aesthetic is "bad boy with the tiniest detail of fancy."

I hope he's still friends with Sammy Sweetsparkle :) Maybe they're in a gang. I know there's 0 chance of Sammy being in this episode, but can you just imagine if Foop took out his wallet and there's a picture of Sammy in it.

Actually... if he's got a little metal circle there, I think that implies his jacket is closer to denim than leather. Lemme check......

OH, interesting... Yeah, he and Sammy don't match.

I don't say it enough, but it's really freakin' funny to me that Foop spends a distressing amount of "Certifiable Super Sitter" following Sammy or spying on Sammy and/or reacting to everything Sammy says. He's just Like That... Like, I enjoy the implication that of all the places Foop could go when his parents canonically left him unsupervised for the week, he likely chose to hit up the Turner place in spite of his hatred for Poof because Sammy is there. Silly.

Anyway...

Dev: Yeah, yeah, yeah... and Irep. Joint conquerors of Fairy World.

OMFG, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Was I RIGHT that Anti-Cosmo isn't even at the takeover!? Local introvert hates leaving his house and never wanted Fairy World anyway; more at 11. I'll be there!!

Plot twist, Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda don't actually show up in this episode because they're busy flirting while Irep's away.

I clocked the design aesthetic of the taken-over Fairy World as "This is Irep and Dev as partners; Anti-Cosmo wouldn't do this" so hard. crying. how did I do that. it's not getting better than this.

"Let's get DEV-ious!!"

dlkfgm, once again losing it at Dev using his first name rather than the "Dimm" part of his surname when he makes puns. He's a Dimmadome, but... he's kind of his own twig on the tree.

It is unreasonably funny to me that Irep's wand is so heavy considering he had massive muscles as a child after his Abracatraz imprisonment ("Spellementary School" & "Timmy's Secret Wish").

Also, I am FASCINATED by the decision to give Irep one little zipper tab that hangs off his jacket. Impeccable.

I love this team already. These are two people who are both known for:

- Coming from upper class families - Having parent-related abandonment issues - Not showing a lot of restraint - Only showing restraint when they've REALLY gone too far

Hmm... Oh boy, let me think. We know Dev's [previous] line was that he didn't like his dad shocking people's brains for money, with Dev having strained feelings even when he was trying to convince himself the shocks could be good ("You can help kids!") And he did feel bad about fighting with Hazel, though he's definitely Going Through the Wringer right now.

And Irep's line in the OG series is that he was totally down for:

- Tormenting his parents - Annihilating Crocker for not inviting him to his house party (whom he hilariously calls Denzel when he's mad at him) - Pointing his school's playground slide into the void - Sending Cosmo and Wanda on a dinner date to a black hole - Poof dying (despite the fact their lives were tied together)

- but he wouldn't allow anyone to harm Chloe, who finally introduced him to hugs.

He made it very clear he wasn't willing to face Vicky to save his own life, even on the verge of death, but he'd do it for her or for chicken cordon bleu. And she's not here, and we're all out of chicken cordon bleu. Uh-oh…

- Would Irep rate Hazel hugs 10/10? Inquiring minds need to know. - Is Dev bribing Irep with hugs? Or is Irep just here for the chaos and assurances that Dev's having more fun with him than Peri? - Is Irep bribing Dev with hugs? Are they pumping each other up with positive affirmations?? Go king; continue the healing cycle!

If Irep's parents show up, I hope he's on good terms with his mom, who used to pack chicken nuggets and anti-venom in his lunch box :)

Dev's faith in his ability to not fall off his O-pairs makes me nervous every time he's ever been onscreen.

His dad might let him down, but the O-pairs never have.

[ cnt'd - #Long post ]

All I've been thinking about for ages is an AU where Dev and Mikey Munroe (Bunsen Is a Beast) switch drones for a day, so Mikey's parents freak out that they can't monitor their son 24/7 and meanwhile, Dev just... can't get his dad's attention despite the two-way microphone and camera screen. Also, Mikey spends most of his time making noises into the O-pairs' fans. It's always been my headcanon that Mikey's parents installed the Buxaplenty's and Leadly's security systems (hence the buttons releasing different dogs & the lethal lightning bolts) since I think "ooh, rich people want us" helps justify why his parents are gone for months or years at a time when we know their job is designing home security, so basically... all the cool rich people use them. I actually have a WIP of Mikey and Remy playing near the Buxaplenty train tracks when they were little, but I never found a plot point strong enough to carry it to the end. Anyway, I've been waiting to see what the Dimmadomes have in terms of security, but it's... nothing yet. Plot twist, Dale has trust issues even with the people installing security?? ... I think he'd be friends with Mikey's parents. Maybe. Actually, I might need a 'fic about Dale having a meltdown when he goes home for the first time in 7 years and doesn't trust that Vicky won't sneak in to get him. He needs the world's best security team. It's two terrible parents afraid of literally everything. Yes, they ditched their kid for this. Don't worry about it. y'know... It's really messed up that Mikey's parents are terrified of everything, but they leave their 12-year-old home alone with the pets for months or years at a time, "but it's fine because they're spying on him 24/7 and sometimes give him gifts (like medicated wipes)." His dad is implied to have a fear of germs and I've always wondered if that plays into them not being anywhere near Mikey... Plot twist- We pull a "My Gym Partner's a Monkey" (where the reason we don't see Adam Lyon's parents is because they're severely allergic to animal hair and Adam has to thoroughly wash when he's home and they can't go to school events), but it's Mikey's parents fleeing Muckledunk because they're either allergic or afraid of Beasts. They left their son... Okay, I just checked my notes and I have a line here that says "Mikey's obsession with soft things like animals, beards, and blankets is probably because his parents never touch him." help??

Anyway, I think an AU where Dale hovers over Dev 24/7 and is still a terrible dad would be funny. Instead of neglect, it's obsession... Especially at this age since Dev's as old as Dale was when his trauma started.

... Is Dale putting distance between himself and Dev on purpose because Dev looks exactly like him and is now the age when Dale's life came crashing down? idk if Dale had access to mirrors back then, but that's gotta be weird.

crying at Irep waiting for his cue to pull Dev's flashbacks down from the top of the screen. They rehearsed this. Painfully in-character (In "Secret Wish," Foop claims he waited 10 minutes outside so he could burst in at a dramatic moment).

The way Irep twists his legs gives me Anti-Cosmo vibes.

Rare "Winn without cap" spotted in the wild.

Dev has the room oriented the wrong direction and in doing so, he forgot to include the door. Emotionally, he's stuck in this room. lmao.

Maybe it's a class that's not Guzman's since we know from "Multiverse of Jenkins" that these kids do attend other classes. But... Dev, what's goin' on, buddy?

INCREDIBLY funny to me that Bev sits directly in front of Dev? I gotta go back and fact-check that sometime. Has he been harboring his crush on her because she's right there? That's great!

??? If she DOESN'T sit there then I have to assume Dev is just so Bev-centric that he WANTS her to be there, and that's very funny. Go chase your sporty crush, rich boy. I support you.

Okay, I went back, and it seems his canon seat is between Bev and Kev (with Kev behind Hazel), but Kev vaporizes when we need to center Hazel and Dev onscreen at the same time (such as Dev faking sick and Hazel glaring at him). Oh my glob, he's another witch... Dev, embrace your ancestral witch-hunting for me, plz and ty. It would be funny... /checks my witch notes as a joke and screeches to a halt. Oh my goodness, I could finally get a Soil Tribe child in my roster... I have their magic down as "causes host to fade unnoticed into the background," and it would be very funny to do something magical with the child model. ??? On my first watch of "28 Puddings Later," I don't think I saw that scene of Dev falling over and losing his shades when the pudding throne collapses. Must've missed it while taking notes. That's cute.

I like how Dev's memories are 2D like the photos we've seen throughout the series. Also, Hazel's so dang cute.

I'm glad Dale's pants look the same in both the New Wish and old 2D style despite no FOP character ever wearing anything with that many dots.

I like that Dev's hair is much shinier than his dad's, implying Dale still has the dullness that comes with being soft instead of slick.

- I'm assuming this means either Dev's hair is gelled or he gets that from the maternal side of his family? - idk man, this is very in line with my "Dev's mom is a Leadly" headcanon... At this point, I can't NOT torment him with two very rich and extremely messed-up sides of his family... They both have extreme branding and weird fixations and funky buildings and run big businesses that have brought in incredible amounts of money and they like tech and call people the wrong names... do you see what I see...

I'm DELIGHTED Dale's hair curls up in the back. I've been so sad that he lost his tuft when he grew up. This is clever.

!!! oh yeah, Dale has his dad's stripe! Technically he and Dev both have the stripe, but I love the subtle differences in their hair. While collecting screenshots for an earlier post, I noticed the hair above their ears is combed in different directions, like this:

- with Dale showing the stripe much more clearly than Dev does. I like the implication that Dev's stripe is gold. That's really cute.

I checked, and the gold streak does seem to be in the place he has the Dimmadome family stripes in his 2D form (Eyebrow level). Neat!!

Aw, Irep's a big boy! And his hair grew out blue!! Parents' genes came out kickin'. I did wonder. I think it's funny his mustache and goatee are still black.

Despite losing the black hair, he's not yet immune from "Irep, are you sure one of your parents wasn't actually pixie?" allegations. This is stupid funny to me... In my Cloudlands AU, the Anti-Fairies are always dunking on him for having black hair like Anti-Cosmo's ex-wife, but no one can say anything because unlike Anti-Cosmo's first heir (Talon), Foop was born with the iris virus (colored eyes), so he's "been accepted by the nature spirits" and is heir apparent.

... Seeing this many colored eyes is giving me incredible amounts of anxiety, but it would not be appropriate to clarify why out of context. I like the guy with hair over his eyes and a big hat.

Is Irep leading the charge these days? Do the Anti-Fairies take orders from him?

Did Anti-Cosmo step down!? Because considering how much he hates conflict, I wouldn't be slightly surprised, omg...

I think it's funny that if Dev uncovers any official documents or watches memory clips that flashback to Irep's past crimes, he'd probably be like "Why is there no paper trail for this Irep guy? who tf is Foop?"

WAS that his experience of browsing the anti-web? I have to assume it was- I can't imagine Anti-Fairy World would cross his path without Foop's name coming up.

?? Considering that in my previous post, I said I couldn't think of any reason for Anti-Cosmo to desire taking over Fairy World unless he managed to score the earth and/or godkids out of it...

I'm so glad Dev just dropped "They have to take over Fairy World so they can rule Earth." slkdfj?? okay...

Irep: Now we can rule BOTH! Anti-Cosmo: That just sounds like scoring godkids with extra work.

THEM!! I am once again so intrigued by the lore that A.J. went into parascience and is following in Crocker's footsteps?? You've no idea how much I need to know what the A.J.-Crocker relationship is.

crying at Irep making a peace sign when he gets in front of the camera with Dev. Doesn't he do that in his profile pic on Dark Laser's phone? He's literally the same person he's always been. I missed him so much.

PLEASE do not tell me Dev's full name is Development "Devin" Dimmadome. The quote marks Dale puts around "Devin" are making me lose it.

Dale's partner: Honey, can you stop thinking about business for 5 minutes so we can pick a name for our son? Dale, who comes from a family that usually just slaps their name on things: I got this.

?? I'd LOVE to know what's going on with Dev's mom. Did she die in childbirth and had no say in naming her son, and Dale took over from there? Is she alive, but divorced from and/or passive around him?

Like... I have to assume she had the most exquisite prenatal care through a rich family like this, especially if we assume she also came from a wealthy family cough- Leadlys.

Holy flipping plot twist, does Dev not have a mom at all? He looks exactly like his extraordinarily wealthy dad. Was he just cloned so Dale could pass the business on someday? Did Dale just kinda buy him and wait for the surrogate to hand him over, and he never formed any attachment to him as a baby because he had the O-Pairs / au pairs raise him? lmao!!!

Traumatized beyond belief for 7 years by a girl his age so he trusts absolutely no one and never learned what a healthy relationship was like even with a partner, let alone his son. smh.

Actually, it's very funny to think of him and Vicky splitting up. Like, it was extremely toxic and not romantic in the slightest, but she straight-up identified him when she saw his face in "Operation: Birthday Takeback" even though logically, that would have been 70 years since she was last close to him. She probably knew him pretty well, especially since his hair has changed.

Timmy can't have frozen the timestream any earlier than Channel Chasers in Season 4 when he learns he'll lose Cosmo, Wanda, and his memories when he grows up, which is the reason he cites for freezing time in "Timmy's Secret Wish," and that was 50+ years. It's been 20 more on top of that for Dale to grow up and his son to turn 10. We know Vicky and Doug Dimmadome very, very occasionally crossed paths in later seasons (Vicky tries to sell him the Stryker Z in Season 3's "Engine Blocked").

If anyone cares, this (Season 3) is presumably where Dale grew up unless Doug took him to Dimmadelphia.

Like?? Something about the fact that Vicky and Dale are the same age is funny as heck to me. New Wish canon heavily implies Vicky's been taking advantage of Dale since they were 9, and they might've been friends once upon a time (despite the fact that in both New Wish and the OG series, she can never remember who the Dimmadomes are, lol).

There's no way Doug did a good job of looking for him, or Vicky would've turned him in for reward money. I wonder if Dale had a history of sneaking off to play with Vicky and just never came home one day.

Do you think that after her bossing him around for 7 years, Dale was really messed up and didn't know how to make choices for himself?

Oh, that's awful!! Who would write a 'fic about him running away to look for Vicky and beg her to take him back because he doesn't know how to be a person anymore and needs schedules and instruction? Who would do that?? I'm fascinated by their dark, twisted, and incredibly under-explained vibe. Haha, I'm in danger...

oh no, and Dev even told us his father relies on algorithms over his own thoughts, and we KNOW Dale was upset his publicity team said he should talk to people face to face instead of sending the O-Pairs or hiding behind holograms... A snarky Dev told us he thinks "talking to people isn't [Dale's] thing..." I'm connecting the dots...

hey wtf. does Dale have issues with scraping by in the dirt and dark with limited food and water and nothing to his name for 7 years and that's why he freaks out when he loses money? He can't handle the thought of not having a house??

Holy flip, I wish he'd communicate his trauma to his son, but I'm yelling that we keep seeing hints that he's withholding things from Dev. Like ?? Dale explains his thoughts all the time (in monologue fashion), but he's clearly keeping some things under wraps since Dev didn't have any concept for who Vicky was or why she knew his dad.

I genuinely think Dale doesn't want Dev to know the details. Dev didn't even seem to have a good grasp of why he isn't allowed lemonade, or at least that was my read considering how grumpy he was about it.

omg, this is horrible. who would write a 'fic about Dale taking his son camping and then slipping off to have a total meltdown where Dev won't see. who would do that.

Like, I think at this point they're so rich, you'd have to assume they're not at risk of losing everything if Dale took time off work, but we KNOW he's stuck on that schedule Vicky raised him with (working on Saturdays, which we see him do multiple times), and we KNOW he's always trying to claw his way up despite having the money to buy literally anything he could ever want.

And we KNOW Dale's big thing is that he loses his entire flippin' mind when the money slows down ("You still making sales?" / "Yes, but they're dropping, Dev!") and he's willing to stalk and hurt people to keep it coming in.

Y'know, this is continuing my theory that Doug Dimmadome is probably dead. I legit think Dale lost his support system (possibly around Dev's birthday considering how clingy he is about boots and says they came into his life on that day, plus the golden boots with the "In honor" plaque he has in his house). Daddy's not bailing him out of this one...

Lovely that Dale's first words to Dev after finding out he's taken over Fairy World are "My son." Oh, NOW he wants to talk...

I also find out my son is working with the fey and immediately drop his full legal name.

Why is Dale both the worst person alive and the only dad ever? I need to flatten him with a cruise liner (carnally).

Happy boy... (Dev, don't trust him.)

omfg, Irep's not buying this for a second.

?? I feel like it makes things WORSE that Dale seems at least a little aware of how upset Dev is about the boots? "I'm so proud of my son; it almost makes me want to throw away my boots." - There's no way he doesn't know he's been screwing with Dev's head for the last 5 months. omg.

- Hey, does Dale treat Dev this way because Doug made Dale feel like he was playing second fiddle to his giant hats?? I can't help but notice this whole city has a hat theme, yet Dale doesn't seem to care for hats at all... which is interesting, because we know Dimmadelphia existed way before Doug got here. Doug in my theory: /died 10 years ago Dale: If I touch Dad's hats or add boot statues around the city, he'll totally kill me. - ?? I guess the alt theory is that Dale put all the hat stuff up as memorials to his dad, which doesn't sound far-fetched since again... he keeps THIS in his house:

... Huh. I guess it could be a trophy for Dale instead of a memorial. That's another relevant time to use "In honor." What does it say about me that "omg his dad is dead and he bronzed his boots as a keepsake" was my first thought when I saw this in "Operation: Birthday Takeback" and not "Dale is successful of his own merit"? Obsessed with the implication that Dev's brand image is his sunglasses... Three Dimmadomes go down in history: The Hat, The Boots, and The Shades.

I still think Dale should have a gun. Not to be helpful; just to keep things spicy...

Please go to the Fairy Armory: the one place in Fairy World that canonically keeps power during blackouts. I am begging. I feel like his Southern daddy would want this for him. Doug had a flamethrower.

Is Dev still holding those magic grenades, and what would happen if someone tackled him in a hug?

SDLJKFSDKLFJSDF I'm on the floor. Did I call it? No way... But is Anti-Cosmo only going to show up now that Dev's giving godkids to Anti-Fairies??

Irep: Yo, I'm going to take over Fairy World; anyone want anything? Anti-Cosmo: The same thing I always want: a new child. Irep: wtf

Oh, all that time I spent speculating instead of actually watching the episode the night I started was so worth it. I was really nervous people would grump at me for how I see Anti-Cosmo, but now I feel like I was set up for a slam dunk.

Also, I like how Dev's taken over Jorgen's office. I didn't notice at first, but that's clever.

Dale is so proud despite the fact Dev taped his mouth shut and tossed him aside. That's so funny...

omg, this pit looks dark.

Will Dev torment his dad with lemonade? Is Dale going into the dark torture pit that swings open from the top like a trapdoor, which parallels his underground trauma to a T, or is that going too far?? Is Dev going to dump on his dad about Vicky? Will Dale freak out when he realizes he accidentally hired his abuser of 7 years to babysit his son? Will Dale be joining Club Redheads Who Didn't Get Mindwiped? (I hope not, because Vicky's in it). Will Dev bully his father while he has all this power and then wipe his mind?? So many questions. Find out next time...

[manic-pixie-aquarius]

So I'm doing a season 3 rewatch and I've noticed some things (some ramblings about 3x01)

1. Hopper goes to Joyce and makes her write the heart-to-heart to Mike and El, nothing super significant about that alone (and of course Hopper actually ends up writing his own letter). I just think it's interesting how later on Will is the one to create a heart-to-heart "from El" to Mike... The Byers are always solving everyone else's problems lol, I love them but babe you needa focus on yourself and your happiness too😭

2. Also, when the party + El and Max are going up the hill to use Cerebro to talk to Suzie, Dustin mentions that Suzie is Mormon. He explains that: "her parents would never approve. It's all a bit Shakespearean. Like Romeo and Juliet. Star crossed lovers". I thought this was interesting because you could say the same about Mike and Will being gay in the 80's in a small town where being in a gay relationship does seem forbidden. And when Dustin says, "her parents would never approve" El is cut off from the frame... Idk the fact that she's the only one out of frame is interesting to me, especially since she's clinging right onto Mike's arm the whole scene. Instead, the two people in the back of the group who aren't engaging in the conversation are Mike and Will. Then she comes back into frame when Dustin mentions Romeo and Juliet. Now the thing about Romeo and Juliet is that it's regarded as a romantic tale, but I disagree with that perspective honestly... R + J love for each other is so intense and passion filled that they ignore everything else, even important things like family and other responsibilities. Their love is destructive, kind of like Mike and El's love. In Hopper's letter he mentions that he misses when he and El would spend time together and is feeling her distance because of her new relationship. Similar to how Will, Lucas, and Dustin recount that Mike is being super distant and annoying because he is neglecting the group to makeout with El all the time. Max opposes them by stating "It's romantic". Max is also the person who's been in the group the shortest amount of time, the boys who have known Mike since childhood state, "It's gross" and "it's bullshit". Mike is severely neglecting his friendships in the name of love, El is doing the same to her paternal figure.

3. Another thing I love about this season is how Lucas is quick to call out Mike on his bs. When Mike makes the excuse of "I was spending romantic time with my girlfriend" Lucas says "Yeah well I'm spending romantic time with MY girlfriend" (whilst still spending time with his friends) But it's also funny because Lucas is insinuating that this theater going experience is romantic, like everyone has pointed out by now, this was essentially a Byler + Lumax double date (like this scene didn't HAVE to happen, they could've waited until Dustin got back to see a movie together, and once Dustin does return we already see how neglectful Mike is being towards everyone. So, what was the point of this whole mall movie theater scene...well to establish the mall setting and the new characters, thats first and foremost, but it was also to show that Mike is still trying to at least put in some effort into his relationship to Will. It shows that he still cares and is at least kindaa keeping his promises from the previous season (making sure his best friend is feeling safe).

4. The hand grab Joyce does to Hopper to reassure him... Byler heart-to-heart vibes...

Question: Why aren't there more Nancy and Mike scenes when they share the same passion of writing???

Anyways this episode is just so funny honestly, I love how angry Hopper gets at Mike. All their scenes together in every season are so good. We missed out on those in season 4, I hope we get some more in s5

[zirobitches]

One Piece: Soulmate AU

Always in this twilight - Crocodile x GN!Reader

Summary: Soulmates are incapable of hurting each other. As a pirate, this leads to some tragic moments midst battles. You thought you were prepared for when it might happen to you, but damn you were wrong.

Gn! Reader, Angst no comfort, no beta we die like Roger, Reader is Croc's First Mate and a former Roger pirate (Shanks/Buggy's age) but it doesnt really matter, also former slave background, congrats you are now in the place of my self insert OC, no promises on not being cringe this is literally a /reader fic, also had to make a fake crew bc we dont know enough crocs backstory HAND IT OVER ODA

Word count: 4500+

Also first fic on tumblr, idk what im doing here, lmk ur opinions. It is now 2:03am and i have class at 10:30. Might have to skip lmao

EDITS: grammar check lol. also cross posted it on ao3 - same name as my blog

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Soulmates weren't as common as you'd might assume when you first hear about it. There's an easy way to prove someone is your soulmate, but when that method is to harm them, well, it doesn't make it easy to find that person. And society gets a bit weird when you know your soulmate is out there.

you've known that some people carry around little needles to poke into strangers hoping to find the one. But that was in decent society; among pirates you more often heard tales of bullets suddenly dropping to the ground after they hit their target, or swords stopping on someone's skin as though it just hit steel. A battlefield is a hell of a place to meet the person fate had decided for you, but for pirates it had become a norm.

Not that long ago, some genius named Vegapunk did a study on how many people meet their soulmate - 1 in a 100. And that's just how many people find them. It never accounts for how many actually happily end up together. You had chosen to live your life as a pirate, so a happy ending with your supposed soulmate wasn't something you foresaw in your future.

You were always grateful most of your current crew felt the same. There was a small group among pirates that were always on the lookout to find their soulmate and then immediately retire. Your crew however like to joke that if they found them in battle, they would move out of the way so someone else could finish them off. It was a grim reality, but it was your reality.

However, on nights like these where you drank the night away, some romantic always had to bring it up.

"C'mon, did old Roger really make you so cold hearted that you don't believe in true love?"

"Pfft, you're fucking joking right?" You scoffed back. You always argued with Tink about this, but you understood your young navigator still had hope. Too bad you were the pessimist of the crew.

"It's not that I don't believe in true love," you continued. "Soulmates are real, I don't really see another explanation for not being able to harm only one other person in the world. But why limit yourself to waiting for a person you might never meet? So many are denying themselves to fall in love with someone else and then end up dying alone because they never found their soulmate."

Tink pouted in front of you. This was a tired conversation, one that was repeated every few weeks much to the chagrin of your other crewmates. But a controversial topic was always a great topic for a group such as yourselves.

"I'm not denying myself the chance to fall in love! I'm denying ever feeling heartbroken over someone who doesn't matter!" Tink tried to argue back, but you just groaned in response.

"And if you never meet the one? You'll just live and die without ever letting yourself even get a taste of what it is you're chasing." Tink glared, knowing it was futile to keep going, but the pink of her cheeks told you that the grog in her system was trying to get her to keep fighting.

It was then that a familiar tall figure caught your eye. There was your beloved captain Crocodile, trying to sneak behind everyone's back to grab another bottle for himself.

Crocodile was never much one for festivities, at least not one 'undeserved' as he might put it. While there was no battle won to celebrate, the night sky was clear and the waters calm; in the Grand Line, shouldn't that be enough to be happy about?

However tonight you weren't going to let him sneak booze and hide from the crew.

"Cap'n!" Apparently the grog was getting to you as well. "Come over here and help me crush Tink's dream of a soulmate!" You laughed as Tink gasped at your audacity. The rest of your company seemed more or less happy with how the night was going, but your captain was still less than enthused to join.

"If this is the same soulmate debate you've been going on about for the past 3 years, I will pass again. You already know my feelings on the matter." Crocodile's deep voice reverberated across the deck of the ship. Even if he wasn't giving orders, he still commanded the attention of everyone within earshot.

He gave a long drag of the bottle in his hand, and then turned to walk away. However you felt it was your duty as first mate to pester your captain into spending casual time with his crew.

"I may know your opinion, but would you be so kind and gracious to remind the rest of the crew? Perhaps?" You called out to the dark coat trying to run from the party, and saw him pause, then turn to walk back.

You could see some of the newer additions to the crew cower. You didn't blame them, Crocodile was an imposing figure, and was developing a infamous reputation as a pirate on the Grand Line. But he was your captain, and he would never hurt his crew, this you knew.

"If I ever met my soulmate," Crocodile began, "I assume it would be when I attempt to kill them." He took another sip from his bottle. This was one of the rare moments he was not puffing a cigar you suddenly realize. It made his face look younger, as though he was actually a man in his 20s as he claimed he was.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Crocodile made eye contact with you. "When I realize I can't kill them, I'll call out for you." You felt your heart skip a beat. "Then you can finish them for me."

It was purely the grog's fault for making your face warm. The lack of a sea breeze was also suddenly apparent. But you couldn't be flustered, not when you were the one who asked for this answer.

You smiled, doing your best to brush off the tension. You were still maintaining eye contact with him after all. "Well there you have it. Not exactly the opinion I remember, but I hope I can live up to your expectations, Cap'n."

Crocodile nodded, then told you all to start to sober up or get to bed. "I don't need a crew of drunks on the Grand Line, or else we will never make it to the New World."

Your crew began to disperse and you went below deck to your cabin. You really hadn't had much to drink that night, yet your chest felt tight.

You thought you had learned your lesson, but no. Even after promising yourself you wouldn't, you became attached to your crew. Even after your last one fell apart. Even after you watched your first captain, your savior, be executed, you fucked up and dove straight into a different crew expecting it to be different.

You laid down in your bed, staring at the ceiling, the world slightly spinning. Suddenly all you can think about is when you met Croc.

-

It was little more than 3 years ago now, wasn't it? A whole 3 years since Roger died. The weight is still heavy in your chest, but not nearly as devastating as it was in Logue Town that day. You were a wreck, physically and emotionally.

After watching the execution, you were too heartbroken to join the others in pursuit of the One Piece. Your world has just officially ended, the crew was technically already disbanded, but now there was no hope of getting it back.

You ended up in some local bar. No one recognized you, and in the haze of all the excitement following Roger's death, why would they? You had just been some nobody apprentice who happened to stick on his ship after Roger saved your life.

But your sorrow did catch someone's eye.

You sat at the counter of this dive bar in Logue Town, mindlessly stirring whatever number drink sat in front of you now. You had run out of tears, and sat stuck in some frozen state of grief.

However, this sad portrait of yourself did not seem to deter someone from sitting next to you.

You paid them no mind, just staring into empty space, not enough energy to even remember you were still alive.

"You were a member of the Pirate King's crew weren't you?"

A deep voice rattled from the stranger, but it was his words that really caught your attention.

"How'd you figure?" You had paused your stirring at first, but now focused on your drink to avoid eye contact. You were a mess, you could feel your puffy eyes, and were still sniffling every so often.

"There's no reason anyone in this town should be sad that someone like him died. So, you must have known him, right?" The deep voice continued, and you could feel their eyes staring, but didn't have the strength to meet them.

"Well, you caught me. Going to take me in and see if you can get a reward? I'm afraid you won't find any posters of me though. I tended to get lost in the crowd, you could say." After that statement you finally grasped the glass in front of you and decided to knock back what was left. If this was the end of your little pirating career, so be it. It can die with Roger.

"Will you join my crew?"

Your head snapped up at that, and you finally looked up at the stranger.

Long black hair was slicked back to show all the sharp features of the man's face. A strong square jaw, a prominent, perfect nose, and pale, piercing eyes, hooded by thin black eyebrows. Undoubtedly, even in your drunken haze, you were sure sober you would agree the man was handsome.

After a moment to take in this stranger all you could manage was a "Excuse me?"

He smiled - no, smirked - and pulled a cigar out from his coat. "I could use someone with your experience on my crew." He carried on, as if you were discussing the weather outside. He lit the cigar with a lighter you hadn't noticed him pull out. Perhaps it was the booze, but looking at this guy, he almost seemed… fuzzy, around the edges.

"Having someone who once worked for the Pirate King should help me become the next Pirate King."

The stranger took a long drag from his cigar, then exhaled over the counter. You didn't know where the barkeep was now, but at the moment, it felt like you and him were the only people in the building.

You should be mad. Enraged at the audacity of someone to come up to you on the worst day of your life, and to ask you to work for them. But you felt nothing.

No. That wasn't right. You did feel something.

You chuckled. Giggled even. A small laugh that built up till you were laughing, nearly hysterically. You hadn't felt like this sort of light headed elation in a long time, and it was nice.

After taking a moment to catch your breath you finally looked back at the stranger. He didn't look upset at your reaction. He just kept smoking his cigar, waiting for an answer.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"I am Sir Crocodile, captain of the Neverland Pirates."

"Hmmm. Well, Sir Crocodile, I can tell you now that you have no chance of being Pirate King." You smirked back at him, propping your head up on your hand as you leaned against the counter.

This response still didn't bother the man. If anything, you swore he almost seemed… satisfied by your answer. Perhaps he knows what's coming next.

"I can help you out on the Grand Line and maybe help you get to the New World, but I promise," you leaned in towards this captain, staring him down. "You will never be the man Roger was. No one will."

Yet Crocodile was unperturbed.

"So you'll join my crew?"

You leaned back and reassessed your empty glass. You cast a quick glance at the bar and then back at the other pirate.

"Sure. I don't have anything better to do anyways."

-

You thought back in Logue Town you could never feel the same way about Crocodile's crew that you felt with Roger's, but you were always the fool. Now you are attached.

Now you need a reason to leave.

You couldn't waste your time or your heart with them. You had already died once with Roger, and if you stayed any longer you know you could never leave alive. You got up from bed - still plenty tipsy you swayed over - to your dresser.

Middle drawer, back left, underneath some no longer worn t-shirts was a small box. You opened it.

There were several small scraps of paper. Vivre cards.

As a child on Roger's boat, you were ecstatic to learn about vivre cards. A simple way to know the people you loved were alive and safe, and be able to find their exact location? It was too good to be true.

When you remember the feeling of Roger's paper burning in your hands at his execution, you knew the reality of vivre cards.

Your fingertips gently sorted through the papers you had made for some of Roger's crew. Each had a tiny name written in a corner. Shanks, Buggy, Ray, Gaban, Oden, and a few others of people who had been most important to you.

Maybe you could leave this crew and seek out the others. Rayleigh had always said he would retire at Sabaody, and your crew was bound to get there soon, hopefully in a couple months. The ache in your chest; you missed your old family. This could be the excuse you needed.

With a heavy sigh you closed the box and hid it away again. Sleeping on it would be good. Sleeping away the booze would also be nice.

Maybe then the tears would stop silently slipping down your face.

-

It turns out the excuse of seeing your old crew was unneeded. The news coo was kind enough to drop a reason to leave directly in your lap.

You stared at the newspaper for a long moment. The sinking feeling in your gut still did not go away.

You walked up to the bow where Crocodile was standing. He stared at the horizon as you approached the next island, Water 7.

"Captain."

Crocodile turned to look at you, face neutral, signature cigar in his mouth.

"Morning. The news any good?"

"They want to make you a Warlord."

Your own feelings were swept under the rug as your crewmates overheard. Instantly the deck was buzzing, the news spreading and making the once sleepy, slightly hungover crew come back to life.

"This is perfect!" The helmsman Diat yelled, a grin wide on his face. "Not only do we get the Marines off our back, it's recognition that we are some of the strongest pirates on the Grand Line!"

You would have laughed at him if not for the ice in your chest. Similar celebratory remarks were made all around you, but you didn't have the strength to pretend this was good news to you.

All you could feel was an icy feeling on your back, right where you had a large scar that tore up a long faded tattoo. But time could not get rid of the mark you could never forget about, no matter how much you wanted to.

Amid the spontaneous party you finally turned back to Crocodile. Amidst it all, he was still only looking at you.

Your words were quiet compared to the raucous around you, but your captain heard you just fine.

"If you become a Warlord I'm leaving the crew."

A couple of nearby crew gasped, heads whipped in your direction and murmurs quickly took place of all the yells.

Instantly protests, people yelling your name, yelling their arguments, but it all fell on deaf ears as you stared down your captain.

Tink of all people knew it was futile to argue with you, and turned to the man of the hour. "Captain! You can't just let your first mate leave!"

Before she could continue, Crocodile interjected. "You never planned on making me King of the Pirates, right? So you never planned on staying on this ship anyways."

This evoked even more protests from the crowd. Many of them weren't sure what you two were talking about, and some had begun to yell again.

The sounds were starting to be overwhelming, and this was not a conversation that required the whole crew anyways.

"That's enough from everyone!" You yelled over the cacophony. The crew went quiet. "This is a conversation for me and the captain, the rest of you need to beat it! Do something useful, we will make a port soon."

The crowd was not placated in the least, but it was true the ship would be docked soon, and there were things that needed to be prepared beforehand.

"You heard them. Get back to work." Crocodile finished your command, and the crowd dispersed. You knew they would still be listening, but it didn't stop you.

"I refuse to be part of a crew that works alongside the Marines. If you become a Warlord you automatically become their dog - then you may as well be a dog of the celestial dragons." Your tongue burned even at the mention of the world nobles.

Crocodile took a long drag of his cigar. He looked away from you and sighed an exhale of smoke, then dragged his line of sight back to you.

"I haven't decided yet."

You bristled at this. "Are you suggesting they already offered this to you? And I had to find out through a newspaper?"

Crocodile took yet another drag, and you lost your patience with his nicotine addiction. "Answer me Crocodile."

Your captain sighed through his nose this time, some of the smoke reaching you, a familiar smell after all these years. It once may have been a nice fragrance, knowing your captain was near, but now it blinded you and stoked your anger.

"We are almost to Water 7. Let's save it for there."

-

Tensions were high, especially between you and Crocodile, when your mood worsened when he disappeared while you oversaw the docking. But you docked. You got the crew into a hotel. During this time the crew began splitting into sides, which was not something you had anticipated. But you ignored it all until finally, Crocodile returned and you cornered him into in a room alone with you.

He had no cigar, and you had no drink in hand. It was a painfully sober room.

Crocodile sighed and slumped into an armchair. He dragged his eyes across the room till they met yours. You refused to look away this time, jaw set with determination to stand your ground.

"I don't want to be the Marine's dog," Croc began. "But they offered me a deal."

"The deal that our crimes are excused? Big whoop, as long as we don't get caught it's almost the same."

"No," he sighed, a large ring covered hand dragging down his face in exasperation. "A deal to help take down Whitebeard."

That got you silent. For a moment, as you recalled every time you saw Roger and Whitebeard exchange blows and fight for days on end.

"You? Take down Whitebeard?" You laughed, but it was a dry and bitter thing. "Your bounty is $81 million berries. Your devil fruit is great and all, but it is by no means fight and beat Whitebeard good. Even if Newgate was without his crew, our entire crew would be wiped off the map. You've lost it if you truly believe that this is achieveable."

Crocodile glared from across the room. Not his usual, perpetual glare, but a genuine, freeze you in your tracks ice cold glare.

He stood up, all 8 feet imposing over you as he stalked across the room. "I have let you say plenty of cruel things to me, but this may cross the line."

But you were his first mate and you couldn't fear him if you were supposed to talk sense into him. "Cross the line? I'm not the one who is making deals with the Navy so I can sail us to our deaths at the hands of Whitebeard!" You were yelling now, no, roaring at your foolish headstrong captain.

"If you take that ship and that crew as it is now to the New World to fight Whitebeard and his sons, no one will come back alive!" Your heart was on fire with rage and frozen in fear. Rage at your captain, who is very much overestimating his abilities. Fear for your crewmates who have no idea what sort of danger their captain was going to put them in.

Crocodile was now truly enraged on the same level as you. He sneered down at you as he suddenly grabbed you by the neck - much to your shock. "I wanted you there to see me become the next Pirate King. But if you can't support me for this, one of the biggest moments in my life since I've been a pirate, then I have no need for you anymore."

With his free hand he opened the door that was behind you. A group of Marines walked in with cuffs ready. "To sweeten the deal, what better than to give a former Roger pirate to the Navy?"

You felt all the blood drain from your face, as fear for your own well being finally pierced your heart. You looked up at Crocodile, and you could feel tears begin to creep at the corner of your eyes. "You never fail to surprise me, Captain."

"Well done Sir Crocodile." One of the Marines spoke, and you could tell from their uniform it was a Vice Admiral, though you didn't recognize them.

"A public execution of a Roger's pirate should be a grand way to ring in your instatement as Warlord."

You felt the world slow down around you and felt Crocodile's grip on your neck slip at the Marine's sentencing.

Crocodile began to speak, "That was not what we agreed on," But your ears had begun to ring.

Growing up on the Oro Jackson, you had picked up some neat tricks. You found out you were hopeless with the color of observation haki, but had a special knack for color of arms. Perfect against those darn logia fruit users.

In a blink of an eye you ripped Crocodile's arm away from your neck and you made a mad dash past him. And jumped straight through a window, glass and all.

You could vaguely hear a commotion behind you as Marines ran after you, but it was lost with the ringing in your ears.

You could hear and feel your heartbeat, pounding throughout your body as you ran through the endless alleys and canals of Water 7. You could feel tears pierce through the wind rushing past your face as you ran, desperately with no objective.

All you could think about was the way the heat of Crocodile's hand felt on your neck, the cold metal of the rings that had pressed against your pulse.

Have you ever really touched Crocodile before?

…

You missed him. You didn't understand why. He had just betrayed you - fucking hell, he was just handing you over to the Navy as part of his deal to become a warlord, but god. You wanted to be with him anyways. You're not sure how long you've been in love with him; his sharp eyes, the smell of his cigars, the rings on his hands, but gods above.

You had fallen in love with Crocodile.

In your realization you slowed down. Your legs and lungs burned, you were gasping for air and not just because you had been running.

Has it always been this dark? When did the day leave you behind?

You now stood in some nondescript alley, dimly lit a golden hue by windows that lined it. It was a long alley, each end blocked by canals. How you arrived there you weren't certain. But you weren't alone.

At one end sand had appeared. And from it stepped your dear, awful captain Crocodile. You both stared at each other, both of you panting for breath.

"I didn't want it to be like this." Crocodile's voice cuts through the air to you. You knew you should run. But for some reason you couldn't find the strength.

"I didn't know they would execute you. I imagined they would send you to Impel Down." Crocodile continued to speak. You just stood there and listened as he walked towards you.

As you watched him, there was a strange look on his face. You've seen it before but still didn't know what it meant.

He stopped walking ten feet in front of you. The light was still too dim to see him clearly, but it was fine. You knew his face well enough.

"I won't let the Navy kill you. Not after what the nobles did to you, it feels wrong." You had never told Crocodile what the scar on your back was. It didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

"I think I'll feel better about this if I'm the one who kills you."

You knew this was coming. The second you saw him at the end of the alley. But you agreed with him. If you had to die at someone's hands, you would pick Crocodile over anyone else. Even if it meant he didn't feel the same about you, it didn't matter anymore. You were so tired.

It would be nice to see Roger again.

But then Rayleigh's face flashed in your mind. You still had to pay him a visit. You still had to visit Wano to see Oden. You wanted to see Shanks and Buggy find the One Piece.

You couldn't see Roger just yet.

So, in a sudden scramble, you turned around and ran.

The ground where you had been standing suddenly crumbled. You felt a gasp finally escape your lungs as you realized you almost gave up. But not yet. You had to save your crew too.

Then you finally ran out of luck. The dim light hid a hole in the cobblestones and you fell to the alley ground. You quickly twisted your body just in time to see Crocodile's scythe of sand arc straight towards you.

It hits you right in the chest, and crumbles to dust.

Confused, you run your hands through the sand that has landed on your lap. You're not cut in half - instead you just have sand all over you.

Crocodile change his mind? He was letting you go? Thoughts and heart still racing, you looked up at him.

Oh.

Oh no.

The horror on his face was plain to see - that was supposed to be a killing blow.

But he didn't hurt you.

Your hand jumped to your neck from when he grabbed you earlier. But in retrospect, you had just been shocked by the action, he hadn't harmed you.

Crocodile didn't hurt you.

No.

Crocodile couldn't hurt you.

Because he was your soulmate.

It was the look on his face that hurt you the most. The disgust, anger, horror - this man did not want a soulmate. He did not want you. So why bother sticking around?

You scrambled back to your feet. Even if he couldn't hurt you, the Marines still could.

So, with blurry eyes and a heavy heart, you ran away.

Faintly, you heard a painfully familiar voice call your name, but then all that was left was the wind as you ran.

pt. 2 (if you want, but this might be better as a one shot)

[simpingland]

Hey love, I had an idea for a Aemond x reader piece; I hope the topic is fine with you because I would really love to see your spin on this one. Sooo what I had in mind is some angst lvl 9000 where during the war Aemond's wife finds out about him and Alys. She can't believe it because she thought what they had was true love and devotion but hey separation, Aemond is frustrated idk. His wife has always been very fiery and absolutely explodes and is devastated. Maybe in the meantime something bad happens to her (like losing a pregnancy or such) and that is the moment he has his wake up call. After surviving the Dance he comes home and tries to make everything better even is his wife is very cold to him and heartbroken. So maybe we get a tiny bit of fluff at the end :) Please do with this as you see fit, I leave this erratic idea in your talented hands ^^

To dance only with you//Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader.

TW: abortion stuff so that means there is blood. It's very angst but also fluff.

A/N: so, I had 2 request that were extremely similar so I mashed up both.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even as a child, the tales and songs of maidens being well loved by valiant knights had made you gnash your teeth. Life had taught you early that this would never be true, and that men, even the best of them, ended up hurting all who fell under their protection. Nevertheless, none of your ideas, those that had provoked thousands of punishments in the library back then, were able to make you avoid your fate. And of course, as a lady of noble house, your fate was sealed to another great man, in this case Prince Aemond Targaryen.

A short dinner a few days before the wedding was all it took for you to fall in love with him. That long figure, with that face that reminded you of the moon. You liked his earnestness, because it made his hands feel warmer than any other man's.

"I've never seen a woman talk so much without saying anything," he told you the first time you crossed words. He was referring to that first look, where he could see your frown as you stepped out of the carriage.

"Some women are not cut out for marriage or the Septa."

"And what about being a prostitute?"

"That choice is unavoidable in any destiny, at least with marriage I only have to put up with one man."

That brought a smile to his face, though it took him a while to adjust to the early trust you built with him. After that dinner, you left him a kiss on the cheek without much thought, and on the way to your quarters you realised the liberty you had taken, and fell asleep red with embarrassment. But when you saw each other again, at the very ceremony of your wedding, Aemond did not seem offended when he placed his hands on your cheeks and seemed to ask your permission to kiss you. And it was you who pounced, and he who deepened the kiss. That evening, Aemond didn't seem to want to stay away from your side, and you could feel his gaze every time you turned to talk to your ladies-in-waiting. But even they wanted to disperse. The music was playing, and Aemond didn't speak, even though he was very attentive.

"I love this song..." you pointed out.

"It's a beautiful melody. They say it was composed by the troubadour of the Tarlys before the second war--"

And before he could continue with such a tiresome speech, you rose from your chair, shushing him, and took his hand to make him rise as well. And of course, the crowd left a step for you to comment and do what you wanted to do, dance.

And during that dance, you thought Aemond would resent you for interrupting him, but the orchestra filled you with joy and your feet moved on their own. And your now-husband accompanied you, brushing his hands with yours, and touching your waist in ways that made you giggle like a naive little girl. With the precious lamps lit, Aemond's colour was golden instead of silver, and his black clothes seemed more colourful. That night he showed you his nakedness when you showed him yours. And although it was hard to discover you, it was he who needed affection before taking off that patch. And when he did, you could only find him so much more special than you already considered him. You soon found in intimacy that Aemond could be a dominant man on the outside, but in your bedroom, he would surrender to your touch on his arm, and after lovemaking, nothing comforted him more than your lips on his sapphire eye. He liked to tear multiple garments when he wanted to undress you, and you would leave him in amusement, knowing that the next day he would give you a new and beautiful one. He liked to be a little rough at first, taking you fiercely, but he soon discovered that your calm pace made him enjoy his surroundings, your body, you, more. And you lived together for a while in a blurry but comfortable place, simple and comforting.

Then came the war. You were not surprised when the usurpation happened, Aemond had never hidden from you his desire to overtake the nephews who had so humiliated him. He had let you stay by his side when they returned, and you stayed awake to watch him fall asleep again once his anger had passed. He liked it when you lay on top of him, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your head resting on the back of his neck. He would hold your hands resting under his chest. And you'd smell his hair as he talked and blurted out insults. And when he turned around he found you, and he knew it wasn't all bad.

"But I love you," you'd say. "And I want only you."

"I love you too, wife," he would reply.

The night after Luke's death you began to feel the cold that Aemond brought from Storm's End. You couldn't even touch him, with the news, the castle was in an uproar, and Aemond was everywhere but near you. And from a distance you could watch him suffer in silence while his brother enjoyed his cruelty. And worst of all, you heard the sad news from the lips of someone other than your husband. And such cruelty turned your stomach even more than it already was. Aemond could see you disappear from the room.

When the door knocked, you couldn't open it, your gaze fixed on the fire, and then he came in. Dejected, Aemond looked strange, divided.

"You have not enjoyed the feast."

"Enjoyed the feast?" you were horrified at the suggestion. "A feast in honour of a cruel slaughter?"

"He took my eye, and its very existence was an insult to the crown." He was trying to sound determined, and someone else would have heard it determined, but you knew better.

"He was a child, Aemond! And you've decided to trigger all this...we can never get out of this...we're cursed."

Something flared in Aemond, that his façade drooped for an instant, and his eyes never finished looking at you, while yours searched for him.

"I'm going to Harrenhal. There are already campaigns there," he replied dryly.

"Is that all you have to say to me? Will you go away and leave me here?"

"You'll be safer here." He began to walk back to the exit.

"I wouldn't need to hide to be safe if you hadn't killed your own nephew!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, turned around and finally looked you in the eye. Then it was as if you could enter his soul, like the dozens of times you could enter while you were making love.

"It was an accident," he whispered. "And I don't know what else to do."

And he walked away, leaving behind you and the baby he knew nothing about but was already with you.

What followed were days of unrest, with Helaena as silent as her children and that stress in the Keep. You had been granted to return home to be protected with your family, and they welcomed you with open arms. Your mother had let you sleep on her lap while you felt yourself becoming a mother every day. However, your restlessness about your husband and the war made you feel like a child. You were unable to bring a single tear to your eyes, engrossed in the thought that Aemond had been the one who had let you down.

"Men are not as strong as they make us believe," your mother told you. "Every day that passes is a day of war and death, and your belly grows bigger. He deserves to fight knowing he's going to be a father."

Although she wanted you to send a letter, that seemed little to you, because regret ate at you every time news came of the fallen in battle. You remembered Aemond's lovely voice telling you all the history of Valyria at dinner, or the laughter he gave you when you summarised your day every time you met.

You were given a horse without a flag and a simple cloak, making you look like just another peasant girl, accompanied only by an archer who served your family. Harrenhal was not far away and the journey was smooth due to your pregnancy. And at the encampments you only needed to show a medallion to cross. You were directed to the camp where your husband was resting. Already from outside you could hear strange noises, rustling and movement. And though a guard tried to prevent you from entering, he would never have touched a lady, so you were able to find Aemond as he was. And a woman on top of his legs. Dark-haired, attractive but noticeably more mature than Aemond, she didn't seem to be bothered by your presence. Aemond instead froze.

There was a moment that felt like long minutes where no one said anything, and only the strange woman insisted on filling Aemond's neck with kisses, but he pushed her away, getting up from the small bed. You turned with the intention of disappearing, but Aemond stood in front of you.

"Don't go," he begged.

"Clearly I am a bother."

Anger and confusion could override your sadness, but neither you nor Aemond could lie to yourselfs, you felt like sinking into the earth at such a sight. The woman was still lying quietly in bed. You gave her a look of disgust that she couldn't interpret.

"Go away, Alys," he said without looking at her. Then the woman, letting out a sigh, left. "I need to explain this to you..."

"How can you have such courage as to tell me that you 'need to explain' something I've seen with my own eyes?" it was screaming all that came out of you. "You take me for an imbecile in a thousand different ways!"

"I don't take you for a imbecil, don't you ever think that." He tried to wrap you in his hands, but you pushed him away, as much as you could push such a man like Aemond.

"I never want to see you again, ever. After everything you've put me through..."

"I've given you a princess's life, and I'm the one fighting the war." Now he sounded angry. And you didn't expect that, it was you who had found him humiliating you.

"A war that you started! I never wanted this life, I was just another girl forced to marry an ungrateful and foolish man like your mother and your sister."

They came from the darkest corner of your heart, from a corner that had never been used when you were with Aemond, and it didn't even feel right to say it, but it was the pain that spoke. And Aemond's body tensed up.

"If you can't stand me, maybe you should have been a prostitute." He remembered that first conversation with you, where you had been tormented but Aemond began to know you as you were. And the instant he said them he regretted it.

"Then you would have required my services, like that Alys. At least I would have felt desired."

The quiver of your chin made Aemond's heart break. And you fled, the cloak that covered you beginning to lift from the gathering storm. Aemond followed you without being able to say a word. His helplessness made him angry, and he thought he was angry with you. Only when you got on the horse did he see your belly, swollen and round. Then he was breathless and it was hard for him to notice the tears in your eyes. It was only when you rode away that he could react.

The storm broke as Aemond's horse began to trot beside you, and the rain blurred your vision. You did not want to see him, and you heard his calls in the distance. He begged you to stop, you heard the word 'child' but you were unable to understand anything, the image of that woman on him remained in your mind. You quickened your trot, reaching a gallop, and then you began to feel a growing pain in your stomach, but the rain, the thunder, the hostile place and the cries of your husband begged you to disappear. Only when your horse slipped did you have some rest, looking up at the sky, letting the rain ease the pain of the fall and confuse your blood with water. Before you fainted you heard your name on Aemond's lips, softer, closer, as when you were in your shared bedroom. Everything else was black.

When Aemond saw you get out of that carriage he never imagined that his future wife could please him even with her clothes on. But just by your expressions, he knew he had for himself a somewhat fierce and non-conformist woman, and he liked that. He also liked your confidence when you kissed him on the cheek at your first dinner. He lost his first fight for years when he was training with Ser Cristo, the reason: he couldn't think of anything else but that kiss. He imagined kissing you on the lips during the ceremony, and the days were long even though he was extremely busy. And when the wedding finally came, he could see you shy, beautiful but shy. And he didn't know how that first kiss felt to you until you asked him to dance. There at Harrenhal, Aemond had two images, the latent image of your dress moving through the air to the sound of music and the other, your body resting on his bed, breathing slowly but full of blood.

He had been the one who had picked you up from the ground and carried you in his arms back to the camp, but he had also been the one who had caused you to make that bumpy escape. Although you were still breathing, you did not react to any of his words and it was only when he laid you on his bed that he could see the blood on your skirt. The Maester did not take long to see you, and from between your robes he pulled out a red bundle that, had life been different, would have grown into a baby. It was Aemond who wrapped it in cloths and decided to wait until you awoke before doing it the honours of a Targaryen. Told to go and rest elsewhere, Aemond could not tear himself away from your bed that night. He felt sorry for the creature you may have had, but his pity was focused on you. He prayed all night to see you open your eyes again. He was there when you awoke and hid when the Maester gave you milk from the poppy.

"Where's my baby?" you asked, and Aemond shrank back into his hiding place.

"Princess, I fear we have lost him. But it was an accident and you may soon try for another..." the Maester was interrupted.

"But I don't want another baby, I want this one..." He watched as you tried to sit up, still in pain.

"Go back to bed, Princess, you're in no condition!"

"I want to go back to my home!"

The Maester had little strength to keep you in bed, and had no intention of pushing you, but when a twinge of pain hit you, Aemond came out of hiding to keep you from falling to the floor. You ignored who it was, still lost in milk and confusion.

"Aemond..." you whispered.

"I am here, my love."

"Our baby..."

"Is with the gods now."

Something in his voice made you cry so hard that even Aemond was frightened. He had never seen you cry before, and he himself felt so fragile in front of you. And worse was when you pushed him away roughly, remembering how it had really started. You sank back on the pillow and the Maester left, uncomfortable with the whole situation. Your husband sat on the bed and kept silent as you sobbed.

"Our baby is gone because of me," he said at last.

He felt you sit up now, your face streaked with tears, though now it was red and not pale. You kept your distance from him, and what Aemond wanted most of all was to feel you as close as you had that night at the dancefloor.

"It was I who fell off my horse..." your voice broke again. "I should have stayed where I was."

Then Aemond wanted to touch your face, as he was to do every day, but you slapped him away.

"I never thought it would break my heart so much to see another person cry."

Your look said everything you couldn't say. 'Then why are you making me cry?' It seemed to say.

"I've loved you ever since you gave me that kiss on the cheek. I love how complicated you are, but how simple things are around you. Ever since Storm's End I haven't been able to stop thinking about the possibility of losing you, and every time I imagine it I become useless, because I'm dead at the thought."

He looked at you without touching you, and your tears left you alone for a few minutes, so he had your attention.

"But I've missed you. And this separation I've forced...I thought it would hurt me more than it hurt you. I couldn't fight a war when my mind is only filled with your face, your words...and Alys showed up."

"And have you fallen in love with her?"

"No," he hastened to say. "She is a strange woman, and she pounced on me in such a way that I had no way out. You must understand, I beg you to understand, that the war is driving me mad. Alys's sad consolation was no more than that, consolation. I couldn't even kiss her. I feel that it makes me numb, and that I leave my body when I'm with her. And I don't like being in my body if you're not by my side".

That didn't seem to comfort you, and Aemond understood that. Perhaps he was making too many excuses when the main reason was simpler. He knelt in front of you, something he had never done before, and let himself be judged under your gaze.

"I have been stupid. And I haven't been able to think straight since I left our quarters to fly to Storm's End. I've put you in danger, and I don't think I'll ever be able to make up for all the damage I've done to you. For you are the best thing that ever happened to me and as my grandfather says, I don't know how I can be so blind having lost only one eye."

A tear finished falling down his cheek. Never before had Aemond lied to you, and never before had you seen him so vulnerable. He looked tired, remorseful, and besides, the baby you had lost was his too. But pity was one thing and forgiveness was another.

"Take me to my baby," you asked him.

With his help, you leaned on his arm, but you didn't hug him sideways like all those times you walked through the corridors. He walked with you every difficult step until you reached Vhagar. The dragon was restless, and when she recognised you she made a pitying noise, she could feel your sadness. Aemond was touched by the soft caress you gave Vhagar, and the Maester busied himself with placing the baby in your arms. There was nothing to be seen, but you kissed the cloth on which it rested and laid it on the pile they had prepared.

You returned to Aemond's side, unwilling to touch him, and waited for your nod to shout 'dracarys'. As the fire began to consume the small pyre, it was now Aemond who felt himself collapsing, unable to look. He covered his face with his hand and turned away from the image. His breathing became heavy and then he noticed your hands trying to slip between his. When he pulled his hands away from his face he could see you, his whole world. And like on your wedding day, he waited for permission to, this time, wrap you in his arms. And so you stayed for what some would declare was the entire morning. Your hands in his hair and on his shoulder, and his holding you around the waist.

"I don't want to be far away, Aemond" you whispered in his ear.

"I don't want you to be far" he replied, quickly kissing the part of your neck where he had sunk his head. "I love you. And I want only you."

Despite sharing that grief, the pain and the strange feeling of having lost more than just a future child, and that was losing your trust in Aemond. He tried to dissuade you to sleep with him, but only succeeded in getting you to sleep nearby, in a lonely campaign, far from his own. You could hear his footsteps approaching and stopping before the entry every now and then. He decided to respect you and let you heal on your own.

That Alys disappeared from the place, no soldier was able to tell you if she had been seen since that fateful day and you certainly never saw her again. But there were women from nearby villages helping to deliver food and supplies. Of different ages, some were happy to see another woman there, and often offered you company and told you about some of the men who bothered them or the concerns of the war. Women your age told you about their love affairs, blushing and excited, and you remembered Aemond. The younger ones were tender, and their curiosity made you want to be a mother immensely, and you remembered Aemond again. The older ones advised you about your loss, telling you that the best thing to do was to lean on someone who could share your grief, and then you thought of Aemond. You only saw him from the sidelines the few times you wandered around the place, and you always looked out to see him take off with Vhagar. On all those occasions he had sought your gaze. One night, one of the older, more gossipy women found out who this Alys was.

"She was strange to the core. She is a bastard and yet she has caused a negative sensation among all the men. She is known to like experimenting with weeds that confuse anyone but her. She only goes after men, because she blinds them. We always saw her for what she was. And we saw Prince Aemond, but he always kept his distance, or so we thought."

"I do not wish to speak of him at this time," she noted your sorrow, but before changing the subject, she hesitated to say more.

"She has been expelled from the Prince's camp a dozen times, my lady. And when she finally went in she came out quickly. The guards say the Prince seemed even colder and more serious after each encounter, and he was never affectionate with her."

"He told me he never even kissed her..."

"It is somewhat likely. Men are instinctive but they're even more impulsive."

That left you sleepless for a whole night. A mistake like that had been caused by his own lack of concentration, maybe even witchcraft and it certainly couldn't be compared to the mistake you made at Storm's End. But this time you let the days pass before you approached him, unlike last time. You wanted to keep a cool head.

One evening, before dinner, a girl peeked in to see you. She offered you a song in exchange for a coin. Of course, that price for that sweet gesture was more than fair, and you let her play a song on her humble flute. It was the same song you and Aemond had danced to at the wedding, and when she finished, your soul was so moved that it took you a moment to repay her.

"Who taught you that song?"

"The man with the stony eye" she confessed, and quickly left. As you peeked outside you could see her reaching for Aemond's tent, who was waiting to give her a second (or third) coin before letting her go. It was then that you connected eyes and he begged you with his eyes to forgive him again.

You reached to the tent, slowly. He saw you every step while you looked everywhere but him. In the moonlight that began to take over the sky, you looked so graceful. And he felt as if it took you ages to reach him. He wanted to speak the moment he had you right infront of his eyes. But you entered the tent only flickering briefly your eyes toward his. He followed you, and there he kissed you gently, and soon your lips brought him out of the enchantment that made him believe that Alys was comfort enough.

He had missed you, and his despair showed when you had to remind him that you were in no condition to have another pregnancy so soon. But he caressed you as only he knew how to do to give you that explosive sensation you had missed so much. And just listening to you, moanig and enjoing made Aemond feel completely satisfied. It was better than music. Soon you would try to start a family again, because that was Aemond's true dream. And soon you would succeed, but that night you didn't know it. It was a difficult page on your book, everyone had their hearts heavy. But even the instants that passed inside that camp made you realise how much at home you felt with him, and that all waiting for the good days with Aemond were going to be somehow nice. You rested on his chest, naked under the blanket and listening to the wind moving.

"I have never liked music too much," he suddenly confessed to you.

"And you agreed to dance on our wedding day?" You raised your head to look at him.

"That day was different."

"Why was that?

He smiled and stroked your face, running a finger along your eyebrows and lips.

"Because that day it was you who danced to its rhythm."

[ceask]

Alr quick question

So Tale based sanses are cats, Swap based sanses are dogs

Night and Dream are just funking deers

What are Fresh and Ink

I refuse to believe that either we're based off one or another thing. They're just entirely their own. What the funk are you. Foxes???

Also, winged sanses. Reaper, Bird, etc idk. They're also an exception, because they are the bird they are. Maybe bird with cat/dog tendencies, depends on what they were based on. If neither, then they're just birb.

HOLD ON ADDING THIS!!! SHIPCHILDREN. If you just make a shipchild of a Tale x Swap based, what are they??? Do they take on one thing or are they a cross????? Same with any other thing like. Maybe I'm thinking too much abt this funk life.

[chernabogs]

i really like the concept of the draconias being cursed with their love, although love is a curse and heart is a heavy burden in itself,,, it's still a fun subject to talk about. your fic in maleficia pov is such an eye opener for this 🥺 id love to see more of your insights w that trope lol

Ouagh idk if you're aiming to let me just yap away about this, but that's precisely what I'm going to do because the prospect of bloodline curses/hereditary curses is one of my FAV things in folklore. This isn't a theory as much as it is me talking about just some things I've noticed and how I interpret it

To preface this, this has absolutely no hold in canon LMAO. This is just what I've noted when taking a step back and looking at the Draconia family—which is that they have a shitty track history with things happening to them. As a secondary point, I have no idea what Yana is pulling from for her background of fae information. Myths of fae come from all over the world; you got them in Europe, in Scandinavian countries, Oceania, Africa, etc (like really, they're all over). I do know her bits and bops about Malleus loving ice cream/dairy items falls more in line with European interpretations, so I'm rolling that she's drawing somewhat from that.

Which kind of leads me to noting the poor luck the Draconia's seem to have. In a lot of European folklore, fae love to curse (most often piseóg)—be it humans, dwarves, elves, or even their own kind (this really fantastic thesis digs right into that concept via an analysis of european folk stories). One story I like a lot is The Two Sisters and The Curse, a lovely tale of pride and fae. One sister brags that her sister has a fae lover, failing to follow the stipulation that she's never to tell anyone about that fae lover. The result is tragic, as expected, but the line 'If a fay-being has power, revenge will be taken though it may be on your descendants.' really sticks out in this.

Hereditary curses are curses passed through a bloodline that, understandably, can only be broken when certain stipulations are met; the ancient Greeks especially loved them. Some might think them as geas (a curse/gift, which is kind of what Meleanor put on Malleus before he was hatched; humans would fear him, fae would adore him, etc.). A lot of piseóg in European folklore are hereditary curses intent on really fucking with a family.

In my opinion, it kind of feels like the Draconia's either have the worst luck streak on record with how many things happen to them, or they have a curse. We don't know what happened to Maleficia's husband, but the assumption is that he's probably dead. Meleanor's husband went MIA in the middle of a war that her family and her people were also dragged into. Then, Meleanor died, robbing Maleficia of her only daughter. Upon her death, Maleficia was unsuccessful at hatching Malleus' egg because he began to reject her magic; if Lilia hadn't existed or had declined to help, Malleus would have died too, leaving Maleficia.

In addition, Malleus (due to his nature as sole heir and only family) was raised in an incredibly contained environment his entire life. Hell, he was chronically alone since he was in an egg. Even now he still holds this belief in his mind that he has no one except for the same 4 people he's known his entire life, and even then, one of them (Lilia) who he cares for a lot is also about to die. Silver will die before him. Sebek will die before him. His grandmother will die before him.

Really, it looks bad when you step back. This is kind of why I focused the Maleficia fic on the concept of a curse. I wrote it like she had an inkling someone in her family line had crossed the wrong person and it resulted in a piseóg, and she just doesn't know how to break or stop it.

Frankly, I love the trope to bits. I love the tragedy, I love the many ways it can happen (pissing off fae, pissing off a tenant, evicting a fairy king from your farm because you're just tryna do your harvest, etc.), and I love when one person finally manages to figure out the niche needed to break the curse. I imagine the relief of freedom from generations of tragedy is immense.

I kind of hope that happens with the Draconia's, or at least their luck turns around with Malleus. I feel like the whole family has been dragged through the mud enough LMAO.

[dsybouquet]

Ooh do you know of any fics with ellie as a mercenary? (or omg do you have any ideas uwu) I feel like that would slap

mercenary! ellie is probably the most cold blooded asshole the world has ever seen. if there‘s nothing in for her - she‘s not gonna do it. someone could be laying by her feet , bleeding to death and begging for her help and she‘d walk over them because they can’t pay her enough.

there were tales about her, saying she‘d rather die painfully than accept help.

she‘s an absolute lone wolf, travelling the world by herself. it‘s not like she had anything to lose, she was alone anyways.

one day, you met her. she had set up camp in the woods. her fire was illuminating her surroundings just barely. the sound of your footsteps caused her to pull out your gun immediately, ready to shoot whatever was coming right in the head.

„don‘t shoot.“ you said, walking up to her. „i‘m not trying to harm you.“ she just scoffed, not lowering your gun.

„then drop your fucking guns.“ she spitted out and to her surprise, you dropped them and put up your hands. „whats your name?“

„______.“ she lowered her gun, but still pointed at you.

you rolled your eyes when she didn’t say anything in response. „any more questions or are you gonna let me pass?“ the way you talked pissed her off to the core.

„pass, but i‘m sure you‘ll die. the only way through these woods is a village in the middle of it. its covered by infected. try your luck.“ she put her gun down and looked at you.

now you were the one who scoffed. „like i need advice.“ you put your hands down and picked up your guns again. „but i heard rumours about these woods. apparently they are hard to survive.“

you raised an eyebrow and looked at her. „but if they are so hard to survive, how come you are alive huh?“

she just shrugged, leaning forward so her arms rested on her knees. you sat down in front of the fire and looked at her with a tilted head. „who are you?“

again, she shrugged. „maybe i‘m your only way to get through this forest - if you can pay me enough.“

and you sighed. the rumour also had it that a young woman will wait by a tree and help you get through. she would disappear back in the woods once you were at the end. could it be that that’s really her?

„okay, witch of the woods, what do you want?“ you said, sarcasm dancing on your words. „well, what do you offer?“ she cockily replied, tilting her head with a smirk.

„i offer you my company.“

ellie started laughing and shook her head. „you should know better than anyone else that that will not be enough, don’t you?“

you hated the way she spoke, how she tilted her head at you and how her body was speaking. you knew she were making fun of her.

„why should i trust you, i don‘t know shit about you. i don‘t even know your name. how can i be sure you wont lure me anywhere just to fuck me over?“

„oh, you can’t.“ she childishly smiled. „but i can promise i won‘t.“

you rolled your eyes and looked her straight in the face. „what’s your name?“ you almost purred, trying to get a hold of any kind of information about her.

„Ellie. Not that hard to ask for something right?“

„okay ellie. how do i get through these woods?“

„again, i‘ll help you if you pay enough.“

this went on for some until you had enough. you stood up and looked at her.

„alright, allmighty witch.“ the sarcasm in your voice almsot made her laugh. „was nice talking to you. i hope we won‘t cross paths again.“

„if you ever need help on your way, just call my name and i‘ll make sure to help. of course only i-„

„only if i pay enough, yeah sure. i got it.“

ellie watched you leave, knowing you‘ll meet again.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

okay idk if thats what you wanted but thats all my tired brain worked out aaaa

hope you enjoyed 🤭