#other cws in the readmore

[summertiide]

THE BIZZYBOYS BLOCK YOUR PATH!

(link to the other part of these!)

got an ask about their fight in a continuation of the OFF-styled ones i did before, and i'd been procrastinating these for a while, so i finally got around to finishing them!! boss fight thoughts below the cut! :-]

this might be a little rambly so apologies in advance!!!

so to start with, i feel like it would be shortly before the Inspekta fight as sort of a miniboss - none of the bizzyboys on their own have a ton of health, but its a 6v1, so the difficulty comes in from that! with direction from Capochin, they're more organized, and if he's defeated, they're able to do more specialized attacks, but they're more scattered in turn order/lacking the previous flow to the fight, making it more clear which ones need to be defeated sooner than others

here's some ideas for each bizzy on their own:

Capochin (Bizzy Captain): potentially able to use a "rally" attack to bring back fallen bizzyboys, uses his turns when they're all up to make one of them do an extra attack - doesn't do all that much attacking, himself, but you'd wanna get rid of him first to keep the bizzyboys that you've already defeated down

Grujaja (Bizzy Brute): with Capochin still active, he's got a moderate attack recharge, and deals some pretty heavy damage, inflicting Palsied as a sort of "knockback" from each hit / when Capochin goes down, he still deals as much damage, but takes a significantly longer time to charge attacks, and has lower accuracy

Patty (Bizzy Defective): "defective" in the sense that she doesn't want to fight you and, when Capochin goes down, the fast but light-damage-dealing attacks almost entirely stop, save for reactive attacks when she's dealt damage

Bananathaniel (Bizzy Chatterbox): STATUS EFFECTS FOREVER!!! he's sort of the support of the two "casters" of sorts, boosting bizzyboy stats and giving them Hasty, while rarely doing anything to the enemies directly (if there's no other bizzyboys, he might have a low-damage attack, but i'm not certain on that one)

Alexei (Bizzy Glutton): moderate to heavy damage, occasionally healing himself from a snack-break turn! when Capochin goes down, he'll do a lot less attacking and a lot more healing, which makes him hard to take down, but easy to avoid damage from

Vibiano (Bizzy Couturier): the other "caster" of the group, but specializing in afflicting the enemy with status effects - Blinded, Madness, Poisoned, and Asleep are the main ones among those! similarly to Bananathaniel, when there's no other bizzyboys left, he has an attack, which is just slightly higher damage than Ban's, but a fair bit slower to use

ANYWAYS that's all i got!! i might find some excuses to do more art for this (idk if it qualifies as an AU at this point, i haven't thought about how it'd go plot-wise!), but thank you again for asking, anon, i love thinking about this stuff!!

[theokusgallery]

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Helping you relax after a long, tedious day. Although I do so wish to know where you got the audacity to question me."

KtS(aWtG)!AU by @greenninjagal-blog :) (please click on the images below for better quality)

With a static + no environment version. I'm normal ! :) (RAPIDLY BREATHING IN AND OUT OF A PAPER BAG)

[mochinomnoms]

Do you think humans in twisted wonderland have periods? What if they don't...

What if AFAB!Yuu is the only one in twisted wonderland to have periods and it freaks everyone out

Evolutionarily speaking it would make sense for the humans in twisted wonderland to reabsorb the unused egg for extra fuel for magic

[cw] - discussion of periods/afab!Yuu but still written as gn [wc} - 1,792 Added the rest under readmore as it got a bit long. I think there's a fic somewhere on here with this idea, but I can't remember the blog or name, I'll edit and link it later if I find it. I can see the point of the egg being reabsorbed, though personally I think TWST humans are biologically the same as Earth humans, minus the ones with magic maybe having a bit stronger/heighten senses and strengths. After all, there are plenty of humans who aren't magic, I think it's mentioned some point in their book 2 or book 5 that a majority of the population is either magicless or aren't privy to the privilege of formal magical education.

Even if a majority of the human population is magic, there's still a good chunk of them that don't and if that's the case then they at least would have periods.

However, that's explicitly the human population, and in reality it makes absolutely no sense for beastmen or merfolk to have periods. Especially when they have things like heat/ruts or mating cycles. Fae I think would actually make the most sense for the headcanon you're mentioning! They are completely and utterly magic, made from the magic of the earth, animals, and flora given sentience and forms. They are utterly magic, through, and through, so it would make sense for those with uteri to recycle the egg back into them for magical fuel.

And say we're going with the assumption that there are no other afab students in the school, or there are, but they're only beastmen, merfolk, and/or fae, then an afab!Yuu comes as quite a shock.

The beastmen are the first to notice something off with them, as they have the most acute sense of smell. This is followed by a very close second with the merfolk (particularly the predacious ones) and an even closer third by the fae. All the boys from those dorms, minus Lilia who's lived long enough to know what a period is, clock in on their friend who reeks of blood and flesh (because you're also shedding pieces of your uterine lining).

Lord help you, as you're in a crowded area, the cafeteria, with not only them but the rest of their classmates that also smell your blood, because their immediate thought is that you're fucking dying.

Sebek is surprisingly the first to launch himself at you, shouting at the top of his lungs, “WHERE IS YOUR INJURY HUMAN?! YOU ARE SEVERELY INJURED YOU SHOULD BE IN THE INFIRMARY—” Before he is yanked off by a wide-eyed Jack, who's looking more and more like the dead as he leans down to sniff at you.

The blood from his face drains (ha) as he turns to look at Leona and Ruggie, as well as a small group of other beastmen—friend's you've made during the tournament—and nods. This causes them to all look horrified and gaze at you like a wounded puppy. Minus Leona, who just looks amused.

“It's coming from them.”

Still confused, you stare at the Heartslabyul group—who'd been eating breakfast with you—in bewilderment. They also look at you in confusion, except for Riddle, the latter of which pinches the bridge of his noses and takes a deep sigh.

“I think you're all being a bit dramatic, they're just on their—”

“DRAMATIC? I DON'T THINK YOU'RE BEING DRAMATIC ENOUGH!”

Floyd grabs you from behind, spinning you and shoving his face so close to yours that you noses are smushed together.

“Shrimpy… you gotta tell me who did it, cause I could tell from aaaaall the way in the hallway that ya hurt. Com'on! Tell Floydie, I promise I won't be mad.”

Jade placed a hand on his brother's shoulder as he leans down to chastise Floyd.

“Not now Floyd, the poor thing is hurt, we should take them to the infirmary. Then we can hunt down the dreadful soul that hurt our friend and have them trade their spot.”

You felt yourself being lifted from the ground, yelping and latching your arms around Floyd's neck as he cradles you in his arms. Effectively yanking you from Jack's grip, who immediately growls.

“Floyd! Be careful!”

“Ehhh? Yeah that sounds like a great idea! Let's go now, I'm itching for a good fight, ayhehehe!”

Leona and Riddle shared a look, the former sighed to try and explain.

“Look you idiots, they're not injured, they're—”

“What are you waiting for?” Ruggie interrupted him, annoyed by Leona's unconcerned attitude, instead gesturing to Floyd. “Let's go before they bleed out even more!”

The small group clamored out of the cafeteria, a few more concerned students following after them as they started to hear bits and pieces of the conversation. Leaving Leona and the others in the dust. Deuce piped up.

“… Uh, do they not know—”

“No, most beastmen aren't familiar with periods.”

“I'm guessing merfolk and fae don't either, based on the twins and Sebek.” Riddle sighed, feeling sorry for you.

Leona's ears perked as he heard the shrill shriek of a certain octopus in the distance. Riddle and the others also seemed to hear it as they winced.

“Probably not…”

“…”

“… should we?”

“Yeah, we probably should, before my boys wreck the school. Let's get Crewel.”

It took a whole hour of you reassuring the small crowd that had formed around your bed in the infirmary before anyone calmed down. Floyd and Jade were being constantly pulled back into the infirmary by the ear by the nurse, who kept telling the two to stop trying to go beat up the imaginary person that, quote unquote, “hurt you”.

“What do you mean Shrimpy isn't hurt? I can smell the blood from all the way down the hall!”

“Yes, it's quite a potent scent, and distinct to our dear Prefect.” Jade held his hand to his chest as he sniffled. “We've smelled it before when they've gotten hurt, but this is a whole different level.”

“Yeah! Almost all of Savanaclaw could smell it” Ruggie nodded in agreement as Jack followed.

“They must be really hurt if we all could smell it from that far away! You need to help them nurse!”

Their voice's grew again in volume, Sebek in particular, as he vowed to also hunt down the “ruffian who would dare harm a fellow student on the campus Master Malleus attended!”

The nurse, growing more and more annoyed trying to corral the group (she wondered how ethical it would be to use a silencing spell and another to stick them to the ceiling), sighed in relief as the echo of Crewel's whip commanded immediate silence.

“Oh, thank the Sundrop, Professor Crewel, please control them. I am up to here with their foolishness—”

“Foolish? The Prefect might be dying!” Azul cried out, surprisingly attached to your side. She'd tried to yank him off of you earlier, but was met with a shocking amount of strength as his grip on the metal bed frame caused an Azul-sized hand indent to form. His strength, easy to forget in his slender frame. Now, he was trying his best to coax the name of the student responsible with promises of free drinks and discounted food.

“No I'm not!” You cried out in exasperation. “I've been trying to tell you, but y'all won't listen!”

As you tried to get up from the bed, trapped in a blanket cocoon made by Azul, the boys started up again. Half urging you to stay in bed and rest, while the other half argued with the nurse, and now Crewel, about healing you up.

A near ear-shattering rumble of thunder caused another silence to fall over everyone. This time, though, the group shrunk into themselves as Malleus, standing proud and tall, entered the room. Sebek perked up, rushing over to meet him.

“Young Master! I've ensured that the human was taken to the infirmary, but so far they've refused any healing—”

“Thank you, Sebek. I will speak to them myself.”

Malleus, his school jacket flourishing behind him (one of the students murmured that he felt like a background character in a romance movie), flew to your side. Where you had been squirming your upper body out of the blanket cocoon, smacking at Azul's hands as he kept attempting to swaddle you back in.

Now freed waist up, you turned to face Malleus, who had elegantly kneeled down by your bedside (you could hear Sebek muffled a shriek) and held your hand like a delicate piece of china.

“Child of Man, my friend, what happened? Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” Malleus cooed at you, green eyes peering into yours, full of concern.

So it was a surprise to everyone in the room when you groaned, which morphed into a soft scream.

“Uh… Child of Man?”

“I'm fiiiiiine!” You sighed, slumping back into the bed. “I'm just on my period, you guys.”

The room remained quiet, a bit too quiet as you lifted your head back up to look at the room of confused looking men. Crewel had a hip cocked as he looked unimpressed over the crowd. The nurse was rubbing her temples. You heard Azul clear his throat, drawing his attention as he asked,

"What's a period?"

Finally, the crowd had settled, all of them huddled around your bed as you tried your best to explain what a menstral cycle was.

"So you like, bleed every month? Randomly?"

"Amount 28 days, so once a month yeah. And now it's not random, it's part of the reproductive cycle. It's my body preps for a new egg—"

"But, I though humans didn't lay eggs?" Floyd asked, leaning against Azul's right shoulder.

"We don't, it's different the egg turns into a baby itself so there's no egg to lay—"

Ruggie spoke up, "We get that, but I don't get why the egg makes you bleed? It can't do that can it?"

"No, no, no. It's not the egg itself, it's my body. In order for the egg to get fertilize it needs a good environment to grow, so the uterus grows a fresh lining once a month for the egg to latch on to, so—"

You sighed as once of the other fae students interrupted.

"Fresh lining? Like, the skin? Of the uterus?"

You nodded, trying to keep your patience as you attempted to explain to your friends that, no, you were in fact not bleeding to death.

"Yes, that's the blood, the skin is shedding to make a fresh one for the next egg."

You don't think it's working, as that last sentence caused a wave of mortifcation amongst the crowd.

"That... sounds like it hurts." Malleus, still holding your hand, softly asked. "You're not hurting though, correct?"

Pursing your lips, you looked up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. Wow had that cobweb always been in that corner?

"Yuu."

Malleus's voice, calling out your name for once, was full of questioning.

"Yeah Horns?"

"it doesn't hurt, correct?"

You started whistling a little tune, studying the dirt under your nails.

"Dear Prefect," Jade this time. "Answer the question?"

The group leaned in closer as you grumbled under your breath.

"Speak up Shrimpy."

".........not always."

"Come on, stop being shy, you act like a puppy most of the time" Ruggie was getting annoyed.

".....cramps..not move...not always."

"It's okay Yuu, you can say it." Azul cooed.

"...Sometimes the cramps makes it hurt too much to move, but not always."

You braced yourself as the crowd once again riled up.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT HURTS TOO MUCH TO MOVE?"

The nurse off to the side still, leaned over to tell Crewel, "I told you we needed an interspecies health class."

hehe this was fun, comments appreciated. I may be inclined to write more since writing different between species like this is fun

[hamletteprinceofdenmark]

Transcript of Shelby's Video:

CW: Abuse

:readmore:

Hello! I don't know if you can even hear it, I put on, like, light jazz in the background because it seemed awkward being quiet, but I don't think you can hear it, so I'm just gonna turn it off. Um, hello! Um, welcome! We are in emote only because I'm just gonna be talking today, and then I'm gonna go! I'm gonna go!

Um, yeah, it was very, very low. There's, there's no need. I just, it felt weird leaving you in silence, but I'm here, so — Hello! Um, I want to talk about something today that, um, very nervous. I feel sweaty. I had a sweater on, I had to take it off. Um, I'm gonna try and just, I wrote down pretty much everything I think that I want to say to keep track of, sort of all the points that I want to make sure I don't forget anything. So I will be reading from something, um, a good portion of the time, but not 100 percent of the time. Um, and I just wanted to make sure I got all of my thoughts down in words ahead of time. I'm, I really like writing down my thoughts. So I did that.

Um, oh, hold on. Can I turn ads off? I think that maybe we turn ads off today. How do I make that happen for just today? Um. Shoulda had that already. I shoulda had that already. I actually don't even know how to make that happen. You know what? That's just gonna have to be that way. I'm so sorry.

Um. I'm all good. Um, yeah, okay. Today's just gonna be talking. Uh, I'm just gonna start reading from what I wrote, and go from there.

I have a really big coffee, I'm gonna take a swig. And I have my water, and I'm gonna take a swig of that.

I have always liked telling my different experiences that I've had, um, in dating because it feels important to me to share what I've learned and maybe help other people to not make the same mistakes that I have before. I'm 30. I've dated a lot. I've gone on a lot of dates. I keep trying, um, and it's unfortunate that a lot of my dating history, uh, there were a lot of bad people that tried to manipulate or control me, um, but that's not to say that every person that I've dated has treated me poorly. Um, some people just weren't the right people.

Um, and speaking out about my bad experiences has never felt as important as it does right now because silence has always brought me peace. And this time it feels like my silence is not keeping my peace. It's only keeping somebody else's peace. Um, and I never thought that I could be the kind of person to end up in a situation like I did. I'd never thought that could happen to me.

And so for me, this is important because it could help anybody else see the signs sooner than I did. Um, or hopefully avoid a similar situation entirely. Because the, the truth is it was dangerous. Um, there were a lot of things wrong in this relationship that, um, I endured some pretty terrible treatment. Um, and I might touch on some things here and there about that. But, um, if I feel like it's important to the overall context. But what I want to stay focused on is this specific issue, um, and the things that happened matter-of-factly and the things that people saw and witnessed in our circle.

Um, it took me 10 months after to heal. And I spoke with multiple therapists and tried different forms of therapy. Um, I tried somatic therapy. That one was actually really good for me. Um, because that one actually helped me release a lot of, um, built up anger I was having over the last year. Um, but the anger that I was feeling was for myself because, um, I felt like I should have known better.

I felt so stupid at myself for, um, sort of just staying through all of this. Um, and I shared my story with a lot of friends after I started talking to therapists and I was like "So, this thing happened ... and I wasn't really sure ... It just seems weird now to me looking back," and all of them told me exactly what was happening in the words that I was too afraid to use.

Um, and I was being hurt in my last relationship. And it took me all of that time to see it through that lens. Um, I even posted an anonymous story to Reddit that I have now deleted with an anonymous account. But in posting that, I found a dozen other stories that were exactly like mine, exactly the same way. Um, and all of the comments said exactly the same thing.

Um, and I was so mad at myself because I was lying to, um, at a certain point to protect this person, because I knew that if I told my friends the truth, it'd make him look really bad. Um, I didn't think that I would cry and I practiced saying all of this and I didn't cry, but it's easier to practice it when no one is listening.

Um, but he always cared more about how it looked and that was really important, not what was true. Um, and it was really subtle. When I hear about, um, when I hear about physical abuse, I think of hitting. I think of hitting and punching, um, so I thought that this wasn't violent enough, um, to be abuse. Uh, I thought that it was just like a constant accident that he kept hurting me. Um, but he's not hitting me and it didn't start as something that he did to hurt me.

Uh, he had this habit of biting, which is so weird to me now, but he said that he had had this habit since he was a kid. And even his mom said that that was true. And he said it was just affectionate and that that might have been — I mean, I think that that might have been true, maybe, at the start, but I also feel that I have good reason to believe that every part of it was a lie, but that's just my personal opinion, um, and I had no problem with just biting, that isn't even the most uncommon thing, um, but he did mention something early that I should have taken as a red flag, um, and he wanted to make sure that I was okay with him biting me because he didn't want me to come back later and say that he abused me. Which I thought was really weird considering he had never hurt me before. And so why would I call it abuse? And why was he thinking about that? And I thought he was being sweet, checking on me to make sure that I was still comfortable. Um, but of course I was because he hadn't hurt me. And why would I think he ever would?

Um, and then he did, for the first time, by accident, uh, and I don't specifically remember the actual first time that he bit me too hard by accident, because I didn't think that it would be significant, um, I thought that it would only happen once, and he started biting me more and more over a period of time, sort of throughout the whole relationship, and accidents of him biting too hard and really hurting me happened more and more frequently, um, but he always seemed genuinely sorry, and he decided that he didn't want to keep accidentally hurting me, um, so we were gonna use a safe word, um, so he could learn where my limit was, where my pain tolerance ended.

Uh, and saying that out loud now doesn't sound — Like, that's not very sound logic. Um, but at the time, I thought he cared about not hurting me. But in reality, it's like, why are you biting so hard? And why do you have to bite so hard? And it shouldn't be that hard of a problem to stop. Um, that shouldn't be that hard.

And he disguised it as this really quirky part of our relationship and was so comfortable sharing it with his friends to the point that he would do it in front of them. He thought it was this really funny story to tell and a good bit to take my arm and bite me in front of everybody until I literally shout in pain. Um, and then I have to laugh it off because I'm so embarrassed and I don't want to cause a scene in front of all of our friends and I'm sure everyone was a little bit uncomfortable, but as long as I was saying that it was fine, nobody really felt like they needed to be concerned and that's not anybody's fault because I was lying. I was lying and it wasn't fine because I would go home later and I'd tell him how uncomfortable I was. How much I didn't like being hurt all the time and I needed him to really stop biting so hard. I didn't like it and I tried telling him over and over again because he wasn't actually trying at all to not hurt me, um, but he said he would try, at first, and then he started saying things like it was my pain tolerance that was too low, or I'm exaggerating how much it actually hurts. He's not even biting that hard. I'm, I'm being dramatic. Um, but his biting escalated to a point where I was covered in bruises all over my arms and they hurt and he would poke at them for fun. And he even felt so comfortable showing off my bruises that he had caused to our friends because he would bite me so hard by accident, "by accident." He would even joke that it looked like he abused me. Um, and eventually he did acknowledge how bad it looked that I was covered in bruises all the time. So he stopped, um, biting my arms as often. And he started biting my legs instead. Um, and it was in the last couple of months of the relationship that every time he bit me, it was until I needed to use this safe word. Um, it had become his benchmark for when to stop.

Only once I was definitely hurt, um, which meant I was being hurt every single day, um, multiple times a day, uh, for all of the days that we spent together in person. And when I asked him to stop again, this time he said, "This is who he is. He isn't going to change." Those were his words. And I remember a lot of, specifically his words about certain things, especially at the end.

Um, because I'm good at remembering words and especially his wording. I became really good at remembering because he was constantly contradicting himself. And I would notice, but most of the time it wasn't worth picking a fight over. And — But he would fight me on it sometimes 'cause I would po- I would point it out and, uh, he would insist that he had never said the thing that he said, he definitely did say. And then he would say something like, "How are you so sure you're remembering correctly? Why are you always right?" Um, and he definitely said the things that I heard him say and other people heard him say.

So, he had, now at this point, weaponized the safe word and was using it to ensure that I was hurt and on a constant basis. And he wasn't sorry anymore. Um, I couldn't even tell you the last time he had apologized for doing it anymore because now sometimes he would bite me and I would yell out the safe word because it hurts so bad and he'd clamp down even harder and, just for a second, just for good measure, before letting go and sometimes I'd say the safe word and he'd grind his teeth down on my skin and sometimes he'd smile after, um, like a gloating grin?

And during this time I was filled with so much anxiety all the time that I was constantly nauseous. Gagging daily, um, on occasion throwing up because of the pit that was in my stomach. I never told him about that though. I was going and running away quietly to throw up in the toilet and rejoin our group of friends.

Um, but I felt so unwanted and ignored. Um, and I would tell him that and then he would reassure me that he wanted to be together and he loved me. He loved me more than I loved him, even. He would always insist that that was true, like the, "I love you." "I love you more," but he was like, really serious about it.

Um, and looking back, I do believe that the way I was swept off my feet at the beginning of this relationship was 100 percent love bombing. Um, and we were friends for a time. Um, at least people would have thought that, actually, but I use the word friend very loosely because, um, we had actually never spoke to each other outside of group chats we were in together when, like a handful of times throughout the, the whole time that we knew each other, um, but did not talk to each other.

So I wouldn't have even called him my friend until he found out I was single, waited a few weeks to reach out, and then we started a friendship and then that friendship turned romantic and then he made these huge romantic gestures. He wrote me the most beautiful love letter that I had ever read. Um, he called me his soulmate. He talked about "forever" one month in. He told me he hadn't been in a relationship in five years. He thought he could never find love again before he met me. He said he wanted someone to grow with. He wanted to be a dad. He had all his names picked out and I didn't have a preference because I — My feeling of it is that the timing is right and with the right person, I could, um, but if that doesn't work out in time or the time, you know, I, I'm not super pressed about it. Um, but I started opening my mind up to the idea with him because it seemed so important to him. And I kept trying to talk to him to figure out where he was, later on, when I could tell things like, were declining.

And, um, now all of a sudden he's telling me he's not sure he wants kids at all. In fact, he has never been attached to the idea of kids. Um, and I told him that isn't what he said before, and he said he's allowed to change his mind. And I'm of the opinion that in a relationship, there are a few things that you are not actually allowed to change your mind without letting your partner know.

I think that kids is one of them. It wasn't even important to me. Um, and I think marriage is one of them, so I brought that up next. And I asked if he still wanted marriage. He said he wanted to marry me. And then he said, now, "I'm not the co-" quote, "I'm not the commitment guy. You know that."

I didn't know that.

Why are you dating me?

In fact, he was telling me the exact opposite every day. Uh, he would tell me he still wanted to be together. He wanted to work on all of the problems. He wanted to, like, he wanted me at the end of everything. He did not want to break up. He made that very clear. And uh, I have though, caught him in lies before, but usually it was small stuff and I, again, I didn't want to, it wasn't anything that ever seemed worth rocking the boat over, uh, which isn't normal for me.

I hate lies. Um, and yet I ended up lying for him. So, uh, but he had lied about big things and he had also been caught lying by his friends numerous times. So this is something that he feels is acceptable to do. And everything reached a breaking point when he was about to leave for an extended period of time.

We were not going to see each other very much, a few days out of every few months, um, and now suddenly he is dumping all of these problems that he has been having feelings about all of this time later. Um, at one point he said he's been feeling this way a couple of months. At another point, he says he's been feeling this way for six months, immediately contradicting him- contradicting himself in the same conversation.

And with no time to do anything about it. I arrived — the one of — Never mind. I'm gonna get to something later, but I literally arrived for three days for this conversation to happen and then leave. Um, my cat just woke up and she's not usually awake right now — Hi, my love. It's really close to her dinner time. I should have fed her early.

Um, so no time to fix any of the problems all the sudden because there are three days before he leaves and he insisted he did not want to break up. He, and so, he was expecting me to have a solution somehow, magically, and I gave a number of solutions that would have a way forward for us to be together, but he refused to make any compromise, um, whatsoever.

And he said that "the relationship was starting to feel like a responsibility," towards the end. Also his words. Um, so it wasn't a responsibility the whole rest of the time to him. And he was at this point, basically flaunting that he would never prioritize me over anything. Um — she's eating my laundry. Please don't cause problems. — Um, and I wasn't even asking for literally even the bare minimum. I was asking for so little and he — I was watching him give exactly what I was needing in the relationship all over the place to anybody else who, who just happened to ask and just wasn't me. So, um, and he also, he was never going to prioritize me over anything that would give him more fame or money.

In fact, he said that himself. He, uh, that was exactly why he was not going to compromise at all for a solution for us to be together. Because he said he wanted to see how much fame and money he could get. Um, and I just thought we wanted to be together. I thought that's what we both wanted, because that's what he was still saying he wanted to.

Um, but then he also admitted to me that he had grown resent- uh, he had grown to resent me. And I have to be thankful that he said that bit out loud. A lot of these bits he said out loud. Because that was the last push that I needed to get myself out.

He had grown resentful, which I also pointed out that there was no reason. Like, there was no reason to feel that way and he admitted that there was no reason for him to feel that way either. I think that it was because I'm someone who can communicate how I feel. Um, but, I don't know, I think, there, I have a lot of theories and reasons why I believe things happen the way that they did and why he was lying all of the time.

Um, but, he was "resentful" of me, was causing me physical harm every day, multiple times a day, despite me telling him over and over again to stop. He wasn't going to change, and he wasn't going to end the relationship. He was going to keep hurting me, and it was possibly going to escalate even further. So I broke up with him.

And I didn't even want to. Um, because I couldn't even see for such a long time after, um, what it really was that had happened. That he had abused me. And, in fact, we left things as, we want to be friends, and he can never imagine not speaking to me again. Um, and then he never spoke to me again. Uh, outside of like a couple of exchanges where I needed to ask for my clothes to be shipped, um, so at least I got my clothes back, uh, I had a whole closet full.

However, uh, he did throw away all of my other things, uh, without saying a word to me about it. Hundreds of dollars of things from my office were trashed without a word, and I didn't block him till ten months later because I wanted an open door still. I really thought I wanted to be his friend. Um, but, uh, I don't feel that way anymore.

I do believe he was bottling up so many emotions, uh, and he would never talk about how he felt. Um, I, I think he even, I mean, he did admit that he felt like he couldn't say it any sooner. Like, there was just no possible way to say how he was feeling sooner than the absolute last possible chance. Like, not even a chance, because three days before he left, that was actually a lie too, also.

He didn't leave for another week after I left. He, he brought me in, had this three day conversation, he was supposed to leave, and then he stayed for another week before he left, uh, with all of the friends that I was also meant to see, but he had lied to me about the dates too.

Um, but I do believe that there, uh, that he was bottling up so many emotions that he was taking it out on me physically. I believe there was a moment where he knew that he didn't want to be in the relationship anymore and instead of just ending it, he tried to push me away any way he knew would hurt me. And he knew all of the ways that would hurt me the most. And he knew he was hurting me. There was no way that he didn't know because of the safe word that he made.

Uh, and he just didn't care. He was hurting me and he didn't care. And even looked like he was enjoying it, sometimes. Um, and I can look back now and I can see all these instances that were really major red flags. Um, there was this one time that he pinned me down and asked me to try my absolute hardest to get him off of me.

And I couldn't do it, obviously. And he said something to make the point that he was so much stronger than me that I wouldn't be able to fight him back. Fight back against what? What do you mean? You don't say shit like that to people? That's insane. Um, and I was also sexually assaulted by my first boyfriend, and he knew that.

Um, he had stopped giving anything to the relationship, and he said that why was because he "was just waiting for things to change on their own." Um, he said he also "didn't have the time or energy anyway to do the things that I was asking for." Um, but then would constantly make any bit of time and energy for anybody and anything but me.

Uh, and he would say he wanted more quality time, so then I would try to arrange things for us to do online because we were, uh, long distance, but then he would complain that he doesn't want to spend all of his time on the computer anymore. Uh, and then we'd be there in person and all he wants to do is stay inside, play games on his computer, watch movies. He doesn't want to go out.

Um, and I'm not saying any of this next part to be mean, um, he lived in filth like I have never seen, and I've seen filth. This was the worst. Uh, he would spill things on the floor and never, literally never clean them up. Uh, he got an ant infestation once, um, and wasn't going to do anything about it because he said, he said "Bugs are normal in British houses," um, so I had to buy Antkiller. And he wouldn't clean his bathroom for months, and months, and months, but would constantly complain about how bad it smelled, and I would tell him, that's mould. It's mould. He complained about being tired all the time too, which I don't know if that was a lie or not, but mould will do that too.

But he would insist that it wasn't, somehow, without having cleaned in months. But it's not mould. Um, when I met him, he was washing his clothes without detergent. Um, just, he wasn't using that at all, and I don't know for how long before I met him. He was just running it with water and then hanging it on his filthy kitchen cabinets.

Um, and I felt bad. I felt bad because I felt like he needed someone to help him learn how to be cleaner. I thought he just didn't know how and I listened to all of the struggles of his upbringing and I was like, "He just doesn't know how. Someone just needs to show him." Um, and then I found out that he said he doesn't clean at all when I'm not there because he just waits for me to get there to do it.

Um, and I only found out about that after we broke up because he said it behind my back. Uh, I was doing all of the cleaning and laundry for him. Also, I had a separate bathroom. I want to make that clear. I wasn't using that bathroom. I had a separate bathroom that I cleaned for myself. I had cleaning supplies. I don't think he even actually knew I had cleaning supplies in there. Um, but I had my own bathroom.

Um, all the, all the cleaning, all the laundry. All of it. I was paying for. All of the, um, like paper towels, like soap, all of that only stayed in the house so long as I was buying it. Um, I would arrive and there would just not be toilet paper in the whole house. There were paper towels instead. And who knows for how long, too.

Um, I was paying for food more than half the time. Uh, because he would often push me into ordering food for us even if I had paid for the last meal, or the meal before that. Um, and I'm of the opinion now that I shouldn't have been paying for any food. Um, none at all, but I wanted to at least, I thought I was being equal by at least doing like a back and forth. Um, but, uh, I ended up paying for food more often than just going back and forth anyway. And he would do this to his friends all the time too. Um, but I was also paying for every plane ticket and the cat sitter, which cost roughly the amount of a plane ticket to England.

Um, and he never offered to help me pay after the couple of times he did come here to visit me because he paid for the flights that we would both take. Um, but that only happened twice at the very beginning. I have actually had a friend tell me that, that this is financial abuse, but I don't know enough about that to say for myself, but I was telling him that I couldn't afford it, uh, all by myself all the time because I was losing money. I was never able to work properly there and he wasn't traveling at all to see me anymore, even though he said he would. Uh, that was like the basis of our entire relationship starting off. Um, so then he agreed to pay for the cat sitter so that it would be basically paying half the cost of my travels. Um, and he did that once, and then never did it again, uh, despite many more months of dating.

Uh, and I was traveling often. Um, I had to. Because he was worried that we weren't spending enough quality time together. And then all of the time that he would have ever extra, he would choose, choose, to not spend it on me because there was an available choice and he chose not to spend it with me. Often.

Um, and I did everything short of just up and move there, which I was willing to do the whole time. And I told him that I was willing to do it and he knew, uh, but he insisted that I don't. He insisted not to. He was planning to move here. That was supposed to happen first.

Um, and then at the end of the relationship, he said, "Maybe things would have been different if I lived there." If I lived there. Uh, like I had said I would the whole time and he insisted I don't. Maybe that could have saved the relationship. Um, and I say all of this because I believe that people like this are genuinely dangerous. I believe he is dangerous.

Um, he was willing to lie. He was willing to do harm to someone he claimed to love more than anyone he has ever loved. Uh, his actions escalated, um, and I don't think that I'll be the last person that he hurts. Uh, and I felt like sharing my story was really important to warn people. Um, I want people to see the signs that I refused to.

I want you to listen to your body. Um, and get out as soon as possible. Tell your friends the truth and let them help you.

Um, I really thought I, I couldn't — Because I had been sexually assaulted in a previous relationship, I just thought I was so much smarter. To never — and I was like, "if someone ever laid their hands on me, I'd leave immediately. It would never happen a second time." But you, you just, it just kind of happened so slowly over time, and got worse, and worse, and worse, until the point where there's no way to deny the fact that he was hurting me and he knew, and, and didn't care.

That's just the kind of thing that I keep repeating to myself when I'm like, "But was it bad enough? What? It wasn't violent enough." Um, but I was being hurt multiple times every single day. Days, and days, and days, and days, for a month at a time in a row, uh, and I'm not even speaking on most, because I did touch on other things, but I am not even speaking on most of the other things that, in my opinion, I do think that there are some things that are across a line that make you a bad person.

I don't think that most people can be defined in a black and white, you're good or you're bad, but I do believe that there is a line that you can cross and only bad people will do the things on the other side of that line. You know what I mean? Um, and I watched a couple of things cross that line. And I just, I, I truly feel now that my soul is so healed.

Um, I am light years beyond him. Uh, this was the last thing that I felt like I needed to do — That's my cat. — Um, before I could move forward and hopefully never talk about him ever again. Outside of maybe my stories that I want to tell about other shitty things he did. Anonymously mixed in with the other stories I still have of shitty things that shitty exes did.

Because I think it's important for us to share our stories and our experiences. I think it's important for all of us to know that we deserve so much better than this. Um, and I think that if people don't want us to talk about the shitty things that they do, then they shouldn't do shitty things. Um, and this just felt so important to share.

I always wanted to share my experiences. I always will. Um, and that's kind of it. That's it. That's the end of everything I prepared. I reserve the right, uh, entirely to change my mind later and tell every story I want to, um, but for now that's all I really have, I feel like, from my soul, I want to speak on. Because I think that this can help other people.

I think that it can help other victims. Um, I have already talked to a number of — I only cry now when I'm talking about my friends! Who also dealt with such shitty things from shitty people. Um, but I'm also so, so grateful for all of my friends who were through, uh, with me through this whole thing. And my friends who also were experiencing similar, similar sorts of situations, um, at the same time, and we kind of went through it together. So, um, I think they are the strongest people in the whole world, and they made me feel like the strongest people in the whole world today. Did I call myself people? I meant person. I feel like the strongest people — I did it again. — I feel like the strongest person. They made me feel so brave. I felt impenetrable today. Um, but I am gonna go now because my friends are coming over and we're immediately gonna go become distracted by watching Love Is Blind. I already watched all of it already and I don't care.

So thank you, um, for listening. Thank you everyone who gifted subs. Um, um, I am going to be taking, uh, the rest of the week off from streaming. I have a video going out on Saturday and I'll be back next week and, uh, you won't hear about any of this again for a while, probably. But, uh, thank you all. I don't really even know what to do now. I think I'm just going to end. Um, go spread love all over the place on Twitch right now and I'll see you guys later. Bye.

Wilbur's response:

In the past week a series of allegations have been made over my conduct from an ex-girlfriend. I want to emphasise that, although I feel it fair to offer my perspective, this person's feelings are completely valid. I have taken my time sharing this statement as I wanted to process and respond respectfully and with the hope to gain a deeper understanding for the situation.

During our relationship's final months, I regrettably became slobbish, disrespectful, and selfish. These actions caused a lot of pain to my ex-girlfriend and I've since sought therapy to address these behaviours, making significant lifestyle changes to rectify my past actions. I have come to realise how much my past behaviour hurt this person, but I truly, compassionately believe I have made great strides from the person I once was and hope I can continue to grow and improve on this trajectory.

The allegation of abuse, particularly in the form of biting, deeply shocked me. Throughout our relationship, I understood from our numerous conversations and text message exchanges on the subject, that this behaviour was consensual, playful and reciprocally enjoyed. I truly believe those personal message exchanges reflect mutual affection and understanding. Out of respect for her, I choose not to publish them and I emphasise my perspective is not shared to diminish or invalidate anyone's feelings. Instead I share it in the hope that I can offer a genuine, fair and relevant insight into my understanding of the situation. While I may perceive our interactions differently, I recognise that this person has processed and expressed feelings of hurt. I want to extend my sincerest apologies for any pain that I caused.

I am fully committed to understanding and addressing her concerns going forward. I hope my perspective sheds light on this situation without detracting from its message. I am dedicated to earning and maintaining the trust of those around me and hope I continue to be held to these high standards I wish to attain and maintain.

- Will

Shubble's response:

i could not have imagined what i would wake up to today. my ex pretending he thought i enjoyed being hurt... and all of my friends immediately coming to my defense. The support has brought me to tears, i don't even know what to say. i'll be back, i'll just be taking a little time

and for the record, i don't accept the apology

[aclassitag]

Announcing Krem Week!

#kremweek2024 — 22-28 July 2024

background art credit: @xfreischutz [link to original post]

*text prompt list under the readmore

This year will mark 10 years since the release of Dragon Age: Inquisition! In celebration of that anniversary and the game that gave us our first trans character, here is a prompt list - and dates - for any who would like to participate! All sorts of creative content is accepted so long as they are not A/I generated. (See examples below)

*If you want to portray Maevaris Tilani instead, that is also fine!

Please read the guidelines!

If you have any questions, reply to this post and I will do my best to answer :)

Prompt list:

1 — Anniversary 2 — Euphoria / Expression 3 — Casual / Formal 4 — Family / Love 5 — Respite / Fight 6 — Play / Satiate 7 — (Free space!)

Guidelines:

Use the tag: #kremweek2024 (@ this blog is fine too) — If you want to portray Maevaris Tilani instead of Krem, that is also welcome! Please @ me so I can rb :) For non-Tumblr folks that somehow got here: You may post submissions, please link your socials. You may choose one of two prompts in a day or do both. You may also combine as many prompts as you want from any or all of the days into a single work, just mention it somewhere.

Types of content allowed:

Illustration and writing are the most obvious forms of art allowed, but they're not the only ones! Literary arts fanfics, drabbles, poetry, plays, lengthy headcanon/meta posts (for headcanon and meta posts, minimum of 100 words+) Visual arts doodles, paintings, graphic design, photoshop memes, photography, animation, tiktok skits, abstract, fiber arts (embroidery, knitting, etc), ceramics Audio art fanmixes(curated playlists), original or cover songs Other crafts are also welcome! e.g. culinary, resin, woodworking, etc etc ..essentially, whatever type of art it is, I'll accept it so long as it falls within rules and is related to Krem or Maevaris :) For things that are more abstract, do include an explanation of your thought process on how it relates to Krem. E.g. you made Krem's Seheron Fish Wrap or Rice Pudding, take photos of your cooking, and post that (with the explanation that it is Krem's recipes) - that's an acceptable submission! You're allowed to explore different mediums everyday! You don't have to stick to one form of art for the whole week. I will be attempting to schedule reblogs in the 'prime time' for engagement, and in the interest of fairness, things like headcanon posts, fanmixes, and WIPs will not take priority in that time slot over fully rendered illustrations or complete fanfics. They will still be reblogged, but scheduled for other time slots.

Content Rules:

No A/I generated content. (Specifically GenAI content) As above, any and all forms of art is welcome. It must be human made, and by you. The whole point of working off a prompt is to explore a creative process, anyway - do yourself a favour and just enjoy making something! It doesn't have to be pretty! No reposting of other people's works. This must be your own creation. Obviously, no transphobic content. No harrassing others over their specific headcanons - be it in regards to any trait or quirks that come with being a person. People come in all sorts of wonderful variety, please respect that. In addition to above: No whitewashing, racism etc. Please note that Krem is not pale-skinned in canon, and I will not be reblogging content of him being portrayed as pale. 18+ works need to be labelled. On this blog, its tagged as "#adult art". Please add content warnings as appropriate. (E.g. portrayal of binding with bandages should have a warning label of "cw: unsafe binding", etc.) If your post/submission is lengthy, please insert a read more. This helps readability on the dashboard. Progress / WIPs are fine too!

General tips:

First and foremost, do what you are able to! Don't feel pressured to complete a full week if you need to take care of yourself first. Some people work on the prompts before the week even begins, and only post it day of. You are not required to do this, but if you really want to fill something for each day, this helps reduce stress day of.

Mod things:

The mod isn't from the Americas, so due to timezone differences, there may be a delay in reblogging people's works. Either way I will not reblog the moment that it's posted in order to screen properly. Posts will be queued between 30mins-1hr apart, if there are multiple entries being submitted at the same time. All submissions will also be requeued after a week for later perusal :)

[angstandhappiness]

HOLY SHITE THIS IS SCARY an actual introduction and view to when Zhu Bajie first became a pig demon is terrifying in hindsight. I bet the whole human family got eaten at the end, or not? Please clarify.

Bloody Pig

cw: gore, body horror, animal death, cannibalism

Author note: Getting back into writing after eons and dipping my toe into horror.

A peaceful slumber ruefully disrupted when a hand grasped the young man's shoulder and harshly shook him. "Wake up!" his old mother yelled in a whisper, hearing him groan, his eyes tried to adjust and focus as the lantern swings over him. Moving his arm to shield the eyes from its annoying light. Mother carefully set the lantern down by his bed as she moved towards the window. "I think someone is here; I think they're in the barn." Her voice wavering as her eyes frantically searched out in the darkness.

"How do you know that? We don't have neighbors and it's a half a day trip to the nearest village. Father must have been mumbling in his sleep again and woke you up." he mumbled, propping himself up into a sitting position.

"It's not your father's mumbling that woke me up!" She responded with agitation, keeping her voice low. "I heard the sow screamin-"

"The sow pregnant and probably giving birth, mother please, ther-"

"Silence Jiahao!" Quickly snapping as she moved from the window to the bed, pressing a boney finger upon Jiahao's chest. "Something isn't right. Go out there and check. Now." Yanking his half-awake body from his bed. Sluggishly, Jiahao complies, picking up the lantern as she herded him towards outside. If checking the barn and easing her worries will let him go back to sleep, then so be it. "Go check the barn and I'll wake your father to join you." She said hastily and shoved her son out the door. The sound of her footsteps retreating leaving Jiahao alone outside. It was quiet for a summer's night.

A shiver ran through your spine, perhaps mother was right that something wasn't right. Critters and other nocturnal singers sing their songs during the summer, but not tonight. The only sounds to be heard are the pregnant sow's whines. Lifting the lantern up, the light showed just enough to make the outline of the barn. No lights were shown from the inside. To be expected from poor farmers, not wanting to attract bandits and deserters to their homes. A price they didn’t pay, but forced upon them and others like them by those of higher stations over a chance of taking the emperor’s throne.

Slowly, you walked from the safety of the house to the barn. Mindful not to make noise as you draw near. With each step creeping closer, whines of the sow could be heard along with others sounds behind the barn's doors. Gently, but hesitantly, you placed your hand on the door. A nostalgic smell, like iron, seeps through the barn's doors. The unexpected smell reminded you of when you and father killed a grower to sell its meat to the village.

The whines were growing weak with each heartbeat. But the other sounds, previously drowned out by the sow's whine became clear, wet, sloshing, grunting, and growling. Sounds of someone ripping and tearing flesh as they feverishly eat. Slurping and moaning like a starved man eating for the first time in such a long time. 

You don’t want to open the door but now you can’t turn back empty handed. Mother would scold you and call you a coward without checking. She did mention waking your father, that piece of knowledge did comfort you, any second, he will be joining you. Maybe announcing you're not alone will cause the intruder to freeze up or even flee through the window. With that thought in mind, you slowly push the door open and hold the lantern high. Ready to call out with confidence as the door swings open.

Any comfort or confidence dies, along with your voice, at what's inside. Laying on the ground was the sow, on her side, with the lantern's sight you clasp a hand over your mouth. Her midsection ripped open and her intestines moving and slithering in a pool of blood and mud. Like eels moving and alive, trying to escape. Can’t bear to look any longer, you move to lantern's light to find her piglets.

Her offspring didn't fare better as their mangled corpses sprawled out across the barn interior, half eaten and tossed to the side. Eyes watery and suppressing the scream in your throat, you frantically search for the culprit. No human would commit such cruelty, not even a starved one, this has to be the work of something else. Realizing you are too afraid to step in, you stood there unmoving until movement in the darkness caught your attention.

A lone survivor, a piglet steps into the light. Covered in the blood of its kin with pieces of torn flesh hanging off its jaw. Its body rippling and morphing as it grows. The thing groans as its body goes through the stages of life, infancy to adulthood. The monster hungrily stares at the sow, licking and curling its lips. Rows of teeth reflect off the lantern's light; some needle-like a newborn piglet, others sharp fangs, and uncanny like human teeth. The sow's whines ceased as its child, now monster, moved to feast on her disemboweled body. Its front hooves cracking and splintering to resemble human hands. All the better to grip and scoop the flesh into its maw. Effortlessly tearing the sow's leg with one arm, the other arm tears the sow's rib bones with an audible crack. The monster eats with frenzy, mixing sounds of flesh and bone crumbling under it's might.

You can't, couldn't bear the sight anymore, the hand over your mouth dug deeply into your skin as you breath rapidly through your nose. The demon hasn’t noticed you yet and with remaining wits, you slowly back away. You need to get your parents and leave. Get far away from here while this monster is distracted with fattening itself up with its kin.

"There you are! I'm guessing everything is fine!" Father shouted loudly with a smile. Almost bumping into Jiahao's back. 

You turn to stare at your father with horror and slowly twist your head to see the monster, now staring at you licking its bloody lips.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Wanted to ask, is Eridan's relationship with his dad ok? Like when Eridan was learning how to use his harpoon gun he seemed very much distressed and not enjoying any of it

The only real canon characterization we have of seahorsedad is that the version of him that's Cronus's lusus is "stern, fatherly" and that he ditches Cronus for Hussie, although that last one is mostly just a Bit so I don't really count it as characterization. He's also willing to go along with Eridan "doing something ridiculous," though, again, that's kind of a Bit and it's unclear how canon that is.

((cw for abuse and stuff beneath the readmore))

As such, pretty much anything I say is going to be pure extrapolation that serves my characterization of Eridan, and I can't really back it up with hard textual evidence. But, personally, I think Eridan believes his relationship with his lusus is "good" in the way that many children growing up beneath strict, emotionally neglectful, and even outright abusive parents do.

We know that Eridan has very few friends. He doesn't even really talk to half the people in their group chat, and according to Feferi, he's never spent more than a few days underwater, total, in his whole life. Add onto that that lusus murder (and, by extension, the culling of the orphaned troll) has been his duty long enough that he describes it is "the only thing i evver did," I think it's a reasonable assumption to make that he also has no IRL friends, aside from Feferi.

And to give an idea of how old Eridan was when he started having to murder lusii, here's how old Vriska was when she was expected to start feeding spidermom:

This, and the fact that Dualscar was called "Orphaner" because the job of feeding Gl'bgolyb was his even into adulthood (as he lived before the Summoner's rebellion and the removal of adult trolls from Alternia), and the fact that no one, including Feferi, ever shows any gratitude towards Eridan for performing the job, supports the idea that feeding Gl'bgolyb has always been a violet blood's responsibility. After all, Feferi makes overtures about not being better than other trolls, but she sure does revel in being royalty when she can get away with it. It'd be in character for her to not be particularly grateful to Eridan because she sees lusus murder as fundamentally being his responsibility, especially if he started when they were both REALLY young.

In other words, Eridan was expected to start murdering lusii (and by extension, other trolls) from the moment he was old enough to do so, which, judging by how old Vriska was when she started killing trolls for Spidermom, is not very old at all.

Also, given the lifespan of violet bloods, it's entirely possible - and my personal belief - that Seahorsedad was Dualscar's lusus as well as Eridan's. Even without that being the case, since it was always Eridan's job to hunt and kill lusii, the biggest possible culprit for inducting him into his role would be his lusus.

And let's be clear, I think the fact that having to murder lusii/trolls is the biggest culprit for what's fucked Eridan up the most. The pressure of having the safety of the entire race on his shoulders, the fear of Gl'bgolyb and what happens if he ever fails, and the guilt of taking lives (which we do know Eridan thinks about) have left him with genuine struggles caring about other people, a nasty martyr complex (which isn't unjustified), extremely unstable and negative emotions, shattered interpersonal relationships, and a deep, nihilistic sense of resignation towards his place in society. The latter has directly led to him attempting to embrace that place by tricking himself into thinking he believes in hemocasteist, sea dweller supremacy rhetoric - which his actions contradict - because, without the game's intervention, he had no other options available for him but to become a key figure in the imperial army, continue murdering other sapient creatures until he died, and watch all his few friends die before him, either when they got culled, killed on the battlefield, or purely dropped dead of old age.

And, like... a parent who does that to their child, even if we assume the absolute best (that Seahorsedad does genuinely care about Eridan), can't possibly have a fully healthy relationship with said child. And I think it's not unreasonable to assume that the best is not what's happening between Eridan and Seahorsedad, because Eridan's psychological profile is so fucked up that I highly doubt he was receiving much, if any, actual affection or support from his lusus. Personally, I think his lusus was "stern and fatherly" in the worst possible way - high expectations, no emotional warmth, and complete disregard for Eridan's psychological well-being, as long as he was producing adequate results.

Because Eridan craves attention, and has very little distinction between good and bad attention. He's naive and trusting to a fault, hardly ever suspects anybody of lying to him, and has basically no social skills. These all say to me that Seahorsedad is just, like... not giving him any emotional attention at ALL.

And poor Eridan is just 13 years old - still too young to fully realize how poorly he's being treated by people who are supposed to care about him. Like, yeah, he's completely obnoxious and exhausting to talk to, and you can't really blame Feferi or Kanaya for being sick of listening to him, but at the same time, some of the shit they do to him as a result is honestly just mean. Like Kanaya is just actually bullying him- training him up to be a wizard as a joke, shitting on him behind his back with Rose, making fun of him to his face - and yet:

He's just that fucking desperate for people to care about him and support him; I can't help but think he's just not getting that at home, you know?

So I think if you asked Eridan, he'd say that his relationship with his lusus was good, and that his lusus was proud and noble and stoic, and absolutely a great custodian, and there were no problems at all.

But I think if you were to dig deeper into their relationship, you'd start to hear worrying things like that Eridan never got to celebrate Twelfth Perigrees, and was instead dragged out to go lusus hunting because it was particularly easy to do so on that day. Or that his lusus had to pull the trigger FOR him the first time they ever went hunting, because his own hands were shaking too hard. Or that he'd be locked out of the hive every time he cried, until he stopped crying altogether. Or that he thinks he's never been sick a day in his life because he was never allowed to have an off day and not go hunting and now he's just used to ignoring any and all symptoms. So on and so forth.

He reacts EXTREMELY POORLY to Feferi saying she feels like she needed to look after him - more poorly than to the initial news that she was trying to break up with him:

And I think that's because weakness was punished in his household growing up. He wasn't allowed to be weak - he was nobility, royalty. He had duties, responsibilities. If he faltered, their whole race died. And when you consider the fact that "you have to kill things for the good of everyone you care about, all the time, constantly," is the abject lesson that's been hammered into him since he was old enough to walk and talk, the fact that he's so incredibly fucking adamant about murdering angels starts to be a little... sad. He's just stuck in that mindset. He doesn't know how to escape it.

So... yeah. In summary: his relationship with his dad is great!

[octoconbeware]

OCTOCON BEWARE: EVIDENCE POST

Link to the original post detailing the situation: https://www.tumblr.com/octoconbeware/774788083214385152

The original private ticket was posted on the 19th of January, 2025. The creator and moderators made the final decision to allow the pedophile to stay in the servers 8 days later on the 27th of January, 2025. Atlas, the creator of the app/bot, replied to my public post a little over 24 hours after I had posted it on the 6th of February, 2025, reversing the decision and banning the pedophile. Note that the pedophile admits to being 18 and abusing and traumatizing a 14 year old.

All images and image transcripts I was given permission to post are under the readmore. The identity of the user that reported the pedophile was censored.

transcript below of the pedophile's admittance of abusing a 14 year old:

one of em i was a dick tryna ghsot someone (i wasnt my head was just so full), one of them was appearanlty i sidestepped and had pedophilic intentions, (i did it on purpose so i wouldnt do it on accident at a later time) and the other one was. appearntly i severyly traumatised someone im super closeto???/ but theyahvent cout me ut and it pisses me off?????????????????

i purposefully kinda sought out a relationship one of our alters has with an alter in a minor system, and ditn stop them when it got sexual it was fuckin stupid a nd like. a planned idea to hurt my then friends on purpose, so i would not later do it on accident

good, please hate me/g i might actually cut contact w the person who told me i traimatised them because lautely theuve been saying a lot of stuff i dont understand. For example thwt splitting (bpd) is just like mania. And one of their alters is called "ticcy toby", has tics, but the body doesnt tic and never has?? only the alter does and forces into their chatting text?? which makes me uncomfu cool i dropped all my venting on u now block me cause im sus and manipulative and a pedophile i guess even thiugh i just turnt fuckin 18 a montj ago lmfao

gpod good* you have your morals right, thats good when both the alters are between 25-30 but the two bodies are 14 and 18 its not ok and ur right, good

transcript below of the private ticket and decisions made by the creator and moderators:

User: I don't want to be pushy but it's nearing 24 hours since I opened this ticket and presented this information that I feel is very time-sensitive. Could I get some sort of update?

Atlas: Hi! We're currently discussing this report with our team. We'll get back to you as soon as possible.

User: Thank you.

User: Any update?

Catharsys: Hi USER, I really apologize for the delay. We have been quite busy lately (entire team including Atlas). We are not ignoring you and we will get back to you ASAP.

Catharsys: Hi USER, we apologize for the delay since our last reply. After reviewing all provided evidence, we have concluded that this is outside our scope of actions. While we understand your discomfort, all we can recommend is to report the evidence to Discord directly and let them handle this. The reported situation is too old and complex for simple moderators on a Discord server to judge. We hope you will understand. Your continued discomfort with their presence is entirely valid, and we therefore encourage you to block them. Please let me know if you have any further questions or concerns, or if we are all set to close this ticket!

user: CW PEDOPHILIA // OFFICIAL REPLY FROM OCTOCON MODS! [below is a screenshot with the final decision of the server staff posted by Catharsys]

Atlas: We've reevaluated the situation and have chosen to ban this individual from all of Octocon's communities. Please don't hesitate to message me if you have any questions. Our decision to take inaction was mostly guided by the fact that both individuals involved were minors at the time of the incident, and that the incident occurred 3 years ago, but we now realize that the possibility of falsely banning someone is much less important than potentially putting our community at risk. As administrators of a mixed-age space, we have a moral imperative to protect our community's vulnerable - especially minors - and trust reporters who have genuine concerns for their safety. We'll do better.

[griefabyss69]

Inside The Fall

Written for @steddiemicrofic!

[ AO3 ]

'FOOL' wc: 1987 | rated: T | cw: Mention of weed

(This is the April Fool's version of the prompt, it includes all of the words needed)

Steve's used to stepping up in life or death situations, but otherwise he's directionless. He isn't expecting Eddie to be so good at helping him figure out the other parts of his future.

(Continues after the readmore)

"Step into my office," Eddie says with a guiding sweep of his arm.

"You mean your bedroom?" Steve asks just to be annoying.

Eddie's smile doesn't dim but his eyes narrow, all sharp and shit.

"Yes, well, sometimes you have to mix business and pleasure when you're waiting around on the sweet cash that's supposed to be coming in any day now," he says, shutting the door behind them.

Eddie's bedroom isn't really like the last one, though Steve had only seen that in the height of insanity, when it'd been newly deserted and then torn through in search of anti-Vecna music.

This one is neater, though still pretty chaotic. Steve can't help but like it, even though he has to wait for Eddie to clear off his desk before he can conduct his business.

"Come, make yourself comfortable," he says, gesturing at his unmade bed.

Steve ignores the thrill in his gut as he carefully sits down at the edge of it. He doesn't make a joke about cum, or about making himself more comfortable, or about Eddie offering up his bed. He's on his best behavior because otherwise he's going to go too far and Eddie's going to think he's still just a stupid jock who has bad jokes, despite all of the shit they went through together; old habits and all of that.

Once Eddie's cleared his desk, he moves to the other end of it, leaning against the wall but resting his ass against the stack of milk crates he uses for shelving. He nods at the chair, his smile all menacing as if Steve was one of his players and he was going to give him a hard battle.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he says when Steve hesitates, pulling a box out of his pocket.

Steve has to laugh a little bit, and moves over to the chair, settling in with his elbows on the desk. He has to look up to meet Eddie's eyes, and that puts another thrill in him, this one is harder to ignore.

"Don't let me win," Steve says, smirking. He knows that's not how tarot cards work, but Eddie's laugh is worth it, like he gets the joke and doesn't think he’s actually stupid.

"I'd never do that," Eddie gasps, bending to spread the cards out on the desk. They're all face down, so Steve can only admire the cool design on the back, but maybe after Eddie's finished reading into his future or whatever he'll let him look through all of them.

He explains some of what he's doing, and it seems simple enough. He asks Eddie a question, Eddie gets him to shuffle the cards, then there’s some kind of sorting thing, then he pulls a few of them.

"What would you like to ask?"

He's tempted to ask something… easy. Something that doesn't matter, and doesn't show Eddie the inside of his head. But Eddie had offered this in the first place because Steve had admitted that his thoughts have been all fucked up, he's been pretty lost these days.

"What should I do with myself this summer?"

Eddie nods, considering that as he gestures to the cards.

Steve carefully shuffles them around in a big mess, as instructed. It's kind of fun, and he takes his time before sitting back, relaxing.

"Okay, that should be all mixed up," he says, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. He's determined to try to be comfortable, even with Eddie looming over him, his arms crossed over his chest.

He looks really good from here.

"Good," Eddie says, bends to corral the cards back into order, tapping it into neatness before he sets it down. "Split the deck in half for me."

Steve leans forward, meaning to find the exact center, but he ends up going with his gut and splits it closer to the bottom. For whatever reason, he's more curious about what's buried deeper.

"Thank you."

Eddie chews on his lip as he thinks, eyes going from Steve to the cards and back against a few times before he smiles.

"Draw three cards from here," he says, tapping the shorter stack. "Place them face down in a row."

Steve follows his instructions.

While he doesn't really believe that the cards are magic or whatever, he does believe in Eddie's ability to create an atmosphere. He's not even being dramatic or loud or anything, but he's bringing such an earnest seriousness to it that makes Steve decide to take it seriously too.

"Okay. If this doesn't answer your question at all, we can do another run of it, with more cards," he says, leaning his palms on the table. "Though usually unless a question involves a lot of people or a lot of moving parts, three is perfectly fine to answer it."

Steve starts to feel nervous, so he just nods and watches Eddie’s hands, thinks about how clean Eddie's new rings look, wondering when they'll start to get worn in by life like the last ones.

Eddie turns over the first card.

"The Knight of Swords," he says, his dimples coming out even as he tries to suppress a smile. "Other cards in this suit can be a warning, but this one is generally good."

Steve swallows. He knows he doesn't want bad news, but Eddie told him this all wasn't like, his destiny anyway. It's more of a guidance thing, like he can choose to take it's message or not.

Eddie flips the next one.

"The Seven of Wands."

He doesn't say anything else about it yet, just thinks for a moment before moving on, flipping the last one.

"The Fool."

Steve's eyebrows raise, because that doesn't sound good.

"Okay," Eddie says, leaning back against the wall, playing with one of his shiny rings. "What I'm getting for this is that you're restless, and that instead of all of the freaky monster adventures you've had, you really need a good adventure. Something new, maybe something a little different than you're used to, but ultimately you need to relax and just do what you want."

Steve looks at The Fool, about to walk off a cliff, and feels skeptical.

"Won't I end up like that?" he asks, pointing at it.

"Don't take the pictures so literally," Eddie says, and Steve has to sigh at him. "Your energy is high, like a magnet for good things," he elaborates, pointing at the Knight of Swords.

Next he points at the Seven of Wands.

"You're probably doubting yourself, dealing with a lot of fear and uncertainty, but good things are in store if you just do what you're scared of anyway. You need to remember that you're in charge of your life now."

Steve gets a lump in his throat. He hasn't ever felt in charge of his life.

"And our Fool here, what he says is that you need to pick something and try it out, whether it works or not. Do it thoughtfully, but you don't have to think that hard about it."

"Oh," Steve says. He hadn't expected to feel so… encouraged. Taken care of. "That's nice of him."

Eddie laughs, his voice quieter when he leans back down against the desk.

"It sounds like it'll be a good summer for you," he says.

After Eddie had cleaned up the cards and Steve had successfully kept himself from crying, they went off on the first nice adventure of Steve's summer.

Eddie had put a couple joints in with his smokes, and then they wandered off on a late afternoon walk, right into the shady forest, where it's not too dark yet.

"You know," Eddie begins as they walk side by side even though the path is kinda narrow. "I think you'd make a good Knight."

Steve thinks it's so not fair how much that makes him blush. He has to duck his head and grin at the ground just so he doesn't like, tackle Eddie and kiss him on the mouth and plummet off of the cliff of his own foolish behavior.

"Yeah? Do you think there'd a Knight for a baseball bat with nails in it?" he asks, looking back up to keep up his eyes on the area. Mostly it’s tree branches and nothing tougher than a squirrel.

Eddie laughs, nudges up against him as he moves, and because it's like, June, it's warm enough that he's just in his new Hellfire t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up. That means the skin of their arms brush together and Steve's brain lights right up.

"A nailbat is kind of like a sword," Eddie muses, the warm look in his eye doing irreparable damage to Steve's self control. "I might be more interested in what kind of Fool you are, though."

Steve blushes harder, mourning how it'd started to go back down just a moment ago. There's no way Eddie could've known what he'd been thinking of doing, but he knows and so do the blood vessels in his face.

"Uh, I'm not sure," he lies, shrugging. "I guess we'll find out."

Eddie beams, slides an arm around his shoulders as he says something that gets totally lost – Steve's brain has honed in on Eddie's body and only that, his feet starting to trip over themselves as he takes in the solid way they fit together.

"Easy," Eddie murmurs as he makes sure he doesn't face plant. "Is it too hard to walk this way?"

It's a little awkward, but there's no way Steve's letting him go.

"Nah, just had two left feet for a second," he says, turning his face to smile at Eddie and – Christ – he's right there. He has to go cross eyed to get a good look at him.

His gut pulls hard but he breathes through it. If anything, he knows how to be a gentleman and not just do whatever the hell he wants. Maybe his instinct for self protection is pretty busted by now, but at least he's not about to go around kissing random men just because he wants to.

Eddie laughs, and his eyes must be going cross eyed too, because they dip down to stare at his mouth instead, his long eyelashes showing off their thick, sweet curve.

"Girls would kill to have your eyelashes," he says, pleased when Eddie opens his eyes wide, shocked.

"What?" he laughs, glancing at the path before looking back at Steve. He's glad that one of them is looking out for tree roots, because Steve can't bring himself to care about anything but the feeling of Eddie's breath on his face.

"Your eyelashes, they're really long and nice," he says, less afraid to compliment him than he'd thought. "Most girls wear mascara to get theirs to look like yours."

"Oh." Eddie grins, turning his head to duck it all bashfully, and Jesus, Steve recognizes himself in that. "Thank you."

Steve can see the stones crumble from the cliff under his foot, knocking their way down the side until they disappear. He's about to do something really stupid – foolish – but his composure falls away under the force of every side of Eddie he sees.

"Eddie?" he asks, waiting until their eyes meet. "Will you kiss me?"

Eddie stumbles, barely catches himself from landing flat on his face, pulling Steve half down with him.

"Uh," he says, a nervous laugh chilling the air. "Why?"

Steve swallows hard, planting his ass on the ground so he's not halfway between straddling him or getting up.

"Because even though I'm scared, I should ask about what I want, right?"

"Oh, okay," Eddie’s voice is thin and strangled. "Sure."

It's a yes despite how Eddie looks scared now, so Steve leans in and crushes their mouths together, falling freely among the stones of his trepidation. Eddie kisses him back like they’re standing on solid ground.

[zukkathirst]

ZUKKA THIRST Creator rules

See commenter rules here.

Hi horndogs, thanks for all the enthusiasm for the inaugural ZUKKA THIRST, an NSFW Zukka event!

The event is set to kick off 4-6 October 2024. It will actually be split into two events: one for creators, one for commenters. For the creators, the aim is to publish anything and everything you have!!! We're not looking for or requiring perfect intricate finished pieces—in fact, we'd love to see your horny pencil sketches, mini-fics and outline posts. Let’s flood the tag with glorious, glorious smut!

Creators are also encouraged to comment and vice versa; you can head on over to this post to see the commenter rules.

Here are the prompts! Head on down under the readmore and spin the wheel (cw: flashing gif).

Screenshot the gif below to pick your prompt.

Not challenging enough? Why not aim to score three in a row with our prompt bingo!

We'll be very excited to see any Zukka NSFW content you want to share, whether it's finishing up a sketch that's been languishing in your drafts, adding another chapter to an ongoing WIP, or a brand new and original piece you've been itching to create for a while and were just looking for an excuse. As long as Zukka are railing each other stupid in it, we're excited!

And while you're at it, why not check out our simultaneous commenter prize?

Event rules:

All works must be NSFW (i.e. M or E rating on Ao3). Click here for an explainer.

Post your work anytime during 4-6 October, 2024. We accept late submissions but not early ones.

Please post on Ao3. You are welcome to cross-post on Tumblr with snippets/thumbnails. We will have an Ao3 collection and you can tag us on Tumblr to reblog. Artists, you can use this guide to upload your art (or reach out to us if you’re stuck).

You can add it to our collection here! You can either hit "Post to Collection" on the page or type "ZukkaThirst2024" into the Collections section when you post a new work.

All works must be tagged appropriately.

We do not tolerate works that are made/"touched up" with generative AI, traced, or plagiarised. We respect the very real labour that goes into art and writing, and would rather celebrate original content made by real fans.

You don’t have to stick to the prompts, but we encourage you to use them for inspiration!

We do not allow works that perpetuate or encourage bigotry/harassment in harmful ways.

About | FAQ | Commenter rules

[helloarchivist]

Hello!! So, for the lovely @quinloki 's birthday request event, I have written a thing!! It's a day later than I intended, but we made it!!

This thing is a monster and it got away from me lmfao, but I genuinely hope you enjoy it. :)))) Even in the short time I've known you, I've found you to be a lovely person and a wonderful friend, and you deserve all the fun and joy in the world. If this manages to be even a little part of that, I will be honored and thrilled.

So, without further ado, please allow me to introduce:

Cabin in the Woods

summary: A break-in, a road-trip, and a mysterious cabin all coalesce on what should have been a quiet Tuesday night in August. The world is changing, and our reader must adapt to a mystery they could not have imagined, and circumstances they could not have foreseen.

cw: op x reader with Sabo, dark content, yandere stuff. (nothing graphic or even violent really happens, but the circumstances are still there). there is a gun, but no gun violence is involved. no pronouns are used, but the reader is mentioned as having breasts and a vagina. there's smut, both explicit and implied. petnames used: darling, love, sweetheart, baby.

I don't think i'm forgetting anything but as always if this kinda stuff isn't your cup of tea, don't read it.

14k word count so it's going under a readmore, but yeah!! Here we go!

**

A bump in the road jolted you awake, head snapping up from where it had slumped against the passenger side window.

“Sorry love,” a soft, familiar voice whispered from beside you, accompanied by the soothing warmth of a palm smoothed over your thigh and you sighed, relieved, allowing your eyes to slip closed for a moment again before you straightened up in your seat.

It was hard to tell how long the two of you had been on the road. Sabo had insisted on driving so that you could rest, but that had been in the wee hours of the morning. It was still dark now, the sky a sickly, bruised grey that could have been dawn or dusk, and you scrubbed a hand over your face, trying to get your bearings. With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hand into your lap again, eyes roaming aimlessly around the car before settling on the dash radio. 5:15 AM.

You frowned, muted worry etching itself across your brow as you shifted your hand to rest atop the back of your fiance’s. He must have read the look in his periphery, or felt your concern seeping into his skin at your touch because he chuckled warmly, turning his hand palm-up to lace his fingers with yours.

“Don’t you worry, okay? I’m a veteran roadtrip driver, and besides...you needed the rest. Last night was…” your lover trailed off for a moment, something vague and inscrutable flittering across his features for a moment.

“...a little hectic,” you supplied, finishing his thought, and that gentle smile returned to his features once more as he regarded you with a wink.

“Hectic. Yeah. S’as good a word for it as any,” He squeezed your hand a little more tightly, rubbing his thumb along the back of it in tender, absentminded circles.

Silence settled back over your little car for a while then, and you turned your attention out the windows again, trying not to let the memory of the previous night, or the reason for your impromptu flight from civilization, enter your mind. When you’d drifted off, it had been on an empty, nondescript stretch of freeway, fallow farmland on either side, no other cars in sight beyond one lonely set of taillights which had bobbed along ahead of you for perhaps ten miles before drifting off down an exit of its own, leaving the two of you to the liminal solitude of late night travel.

If Sabo had pulled off at any stops along the way, he hadn’t woken you for them, but given that the scenery had changed from open farmland to winding, forested foothills, it couldn’t have been more than once. Under normal circumstances you might have chided him for it ‘Breaks are normal, it’s not worth the hour saved to give yourself a UTI trying to do the whole trip in one go,’ but given the circumstances…

You blinked your eyes shut hard, shaking the thoughts away before stretching to the side a little to rest your head on Sabo’s shoulder.

“Want me to take over for a bit, ‘Bo?” You asked softly, running your free hand up his forearm a little.

Sabo leaned over slightly, slumping his cheek against the top of your head for a moment before pressing a soft kiss there, lingering just long enough to breathe the scent of you in before straightening back up.

Nah, s’okay. We’re only a couple hours out from it now, and the side road is really hard to catch. Hell, I used to come out here every summer with my brothers, and I still drive right past it sometimes.” He said, the corners of his lips turning slightly upwards at the memory.

You adored his brothers, boisterous and warm in their own ways. They were the only people on earth that Sabo loved as much as you, and for a moment your heart clenched at the thought. Between the bars of your mental blockade, you hoped faintly that they were holed up somewhere safe, too. That they’d found their way out of the city before--

“Do you think we should try the radio again? See if there’s any news...any updates?” Your voice sounded grave, frightened and thin in your own ears, and you winced.

Sabo squeezed your hand a little more tightly. “...Let’s wait til we’re up at the cabin. If the car radio runs out of signal we’ve got the ham radio, and that old long-range one Luffy’s grandfather left up there.” He lapsed into silence for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, betraying the first hint of worry he’d let slip since your departure. “We beat the first wave out, and there’s nothing we can do ‘til we’re safe up there. Won’t help anything to get ourselves all wound up before then, right love?” his voice was low, reassuring, reasonable. He didn’t want you to be scared. You didn’t want you to be scared.

He offered you the out, and you took it. “Yeah. May as well get everything set up before we start taking stock of how bad it is.”

“Brilliant as always,” he crooned, lilting his voice with that cartoonishly syrupy sweetness that never failed to make you laugh. He grinned at the sound, heart fluttering in his chest, and exhaled a long, slow breath. He wasn’t worried about what might be on the radio. All that mattered was that he had you here, had you safe. Whatever else happened, you could weather it together.

**

True to his word, the little road that led back to the cabin was barely visible until the car was almost on top of it; even with the help of the morning light, filtering grey through the thickening cloud cover, the path Sabo slowed and pulled off onto could barely be called a road. You’d already pulled off the freeway maybe 30 minutes before, onto a two lane little back road that veered off and up into the hills and valleys beyond. This was an unpaved, overgrown footpath with delusions of grandeur, that seemed to meander almost aimlessly through the trees. Slowly but surely, the road behind you slid into the foliage and out of view, and though you knew he must be exhausted, you found yourself deeply grateful that Sabo had opted to finish the drive himself.

You could barely imagine picking your way through this on foot without prior knowledge, let alone in a car. At regular intervals Sabo’s side of the road would simply open up into nothing, offering a stunning view of the valley, of the forested mountain on the other side, and what you were sure was likely a precipitous drop off into the river below. The thought of it made you a bit queasy, despite the beauty of the scenery, and you leaned back into your seat, opting instead to watch the high wall of fallen leaves and hillside passing by on the passenger side.

“Just a little bit longer, I promise. The cabin’s just on the other side of the hilltop. You’re going to love the view. Plus it’s got good access to a little lake. The water is always unreasonably cold, but it’s gorgeous,” He said, turning his head only slightly towards you to keep his focus on the road. “Tell ya what, if the old rowboat is still functional, I’ll take you out on it. Tomorrow, after we’ve had some rest.”

You smiled at that, humming acquiescently. The thought of spending time out on the lake with him—spending time out anywhere with him—was wonderful, perfect, of course, though at the moment the only thing you could muster any true enthusiasm for was a long bath and the promise of a comfortable bed. The whole place was probably going to need aired out and dusted off, and while there was a generator Sabo had made it clear that it might need a little TLC before there would be any power. That was fine. If you two needed to spend the first night cooking hotdogs and smores in the fireplace, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

That phrase rattled around in your mind a little, and you shuddered. Sabo glanced at you, before reaching out and flicking the AC down a couple of notches.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. You squeezed his hand tightly, before drawing it up to your lips.

“With you? ‘Course not.” you whispered back.

He smiled, perhaps a little smugly, though that simply made you kiss the back of his hand once again.

**

When the road had finally meandered off the slope of the mountain you were on, following a little rise into a nestled clearing between peaks, you’d sighed in relief and slumped back in your seat, making Sabo laugh good-naturedly.

“The ride in is a little harrowing the first time, but I promise it’s gonna be worth it,” He’d said, letting go of your hand so he could ruffle it through your hair, and down to rest at the back of your neck, soothing the tense muscles with warm, precise little movements.

You weren’t honestly sure what you’d been expecting the cabin to look like. Vague images of a hunting lodge, of a summer camp bunk house, of a better homes and gardens style airbnb, and Rapunzel’s tower had all made their aimless way across your mind on the way in.

What you found was nothing short of magical. Even in the grey, dreary light of what had turned out to be a drizzly, windy sort of day, the little valley nestled between the peaks still seemed to glimmer with the echos of sun-warmed adventures and youthful secrets. The road you were on petered out into the soft green grass of a charmingly overgrown clearing. The hilltop seemed to cup the clearing like a giant hand, curving trees and bushes and delicate little wildflowers inward towards the cabin, more like the framing of a painting than the work of nature.

The cabin itself was larger than you’d anticipated, but not nearly as campish or dilapidated as Sabo had suggested. Dark old wood comprised both stories of the house, with a wraparound porch and swing visible as you approached, and a balcony on the one upstairs room you could see from this side.

The windows were boarded up, sure, but Sabo had assured you that was standard practice every time he and his brothers left the place for the season. Safer that way in case of storms, and it kept most of the animals from scratching around too much.

“We’ll pull the boards off the windows of the upstairs rooms so we can get a cross-breeze up where we’re gonna sleep. Rest of em we can work through tomorrow. No rush. We’ve got time to settle in.” he said, cheerful despite the situation, as he finally pulled the car to a stop, and killed the engine.

You leaned forward for a moment, taking in the place through the tinted blue of the top of the windshield, before unclipping your seat belt and climbing out of the car at long last. Without the rumble of the engine and the whirring of the AC, the place was even more beautiful. Wind swept through the valley, rustling in the trees, stray leaves twirling and trailing in the wind as they fell.

Sabo climbed out of the car too, leaning against the open driver’s side door to watch you, a gentle smile on his lips.

‘It’ll all be worth it. Even if all that ever came of it was this, it’d be worth it,’ the thought settled across his mind like gossamer silk, his eyes growing dreamy and unfocused, as he drank in the sight of your excitement. You seemed to glow in the gentle light that filtered down through the trees, and he knew in that moment that there was no one in the world more perfect than you. His love, his darling.

He could make you happy here. He would make you happy here. Happy, and safe, and loved. As you deserved.

You almost yelped in startled delight when you lowered your head from observing the trees around you to find Sabo directly by your side, lips quirked up into a grin. It was one of the things you loved about him, one of his many fascinating little quirks, he could be so quiet when he wanted to be. Your high little peal of laughter only widened his grin, and in one swift motion he had you lifted up into his arms, cradled against his chest, nestled into a grip that spoke of unfathomable reverence, and a heat that seemed always to be boiling just inches beneath his skin, a hunger that only ever found satiation in your love, your touch, your pleasure.

You looked up into the face of the man you loved breathlessly, the hint of color and responding heat beginning to touch your cheeks, and he sighed, letting those beautiful cornflower blue eyes of his slip closed, poorly feigning a chiding expression as he leaned forward to press his lips to your forehead.

“I see how it is,” he sighed airily, turning towards the cabin with you as though you weighed nothing at all. “What am I, compared to pretty leaves and a mysterious old cabin~” he intoned, hyperbolically mournful, and you rolled your eyes playfully before turning your head to kiss his chin.

“My guide through the darkness, as always,” you returned, mimicking his feigned mournfulness, though just as the words left your lips, Sabo carried you up onto the creaking old wood of the porch, and into the semi-darkness that came with it. The cloud cover was too heavy to throw off the pal of disuse, and you couldn’t quite manage to suppress the shiver that ran through you. Up close, with its boarded windows and unfamiliar shadows, there was something...ominous, about the place. Sabo stilled for a moment, glancing down at you, his playful expression giving way to concern, and something like remorse, as he set you gently onto your feet again.

“Nobody’s been out here in a couple years,” He squeezed your shoulders softly, rhythmically, before pulling you forward into a hug. “That’s all it is. There’s no way that anythi—that anyone would even know to come out this way beyond Ace and Luffy, and they’re out of state. You know that,” his voice was so even, so reasonable, and when he pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against yours you sighed, and nodded.

“Whatever’s happening out there, it can’t get to us here. I’ll keep you safe.”

You sighed, leaning in to kiss him, and as he stroked your cheek and let you sink into his warmth, you willed the worry to subside, at least a little.

“Yeah,” you whispered, and he nodded with a soft sigh before turning his attention back towards the task at hand.

He seemed to ponder the boarded up door for a moment, brows furrowing thoughtfully. If you hadn’t known him so well, you might have wondered whether you were locked out...but after a moment of “contemplation,” Sabo tilted his head down towards you, and winked.

“We always board everything up when we leave...except the front door. Watch,” Sabo leaned forward, running his fingertips along the outside of the door frame until something gave way with a small click. Without bothering with the visible lock and seemingly independently of the doorknob, the entire boarded up apparatus swung open a couple of inches, and Sabo pulled it open the rest of the way with a flourish.

“Is it...fake?” you asked, reaching out to touch the camouflaged button he had pressed, watching the simple release mechanism punch outwards curiously.

“False front door,” Sabo replied proudly, almost excitedly, as he ran his palm down the old wood. “One of the few good ideas Luffy’s grandfather ever had. The actual front door is on the lakeside of the house. This way, even if someone did somehow manage to approach from the road, all they’d see is what looked like a boarded up old house.”

Something about that felt a little odd. Why would such a decoy be necessary in general, let alone for a place as secluded as this? But beyond what sounded like an old man’s paranoia, you couldn’t quite place why it struck you so strangely, nor did you have time to properly contemplate it, as Sabo was moving ahead of you into the house, striding confidently into the gloom.

You hesitated in the doorway, still gripped by that odd sense of foreboding; distantly, the sound of thunder began to roll through the hills, and it might as well have been night for all the grey light did to illuminate the interior of the cabin. Little slits of feeble light peeped out from impossibly far back in the space, and you noticed, once the rumbling of thunder died down, that the cabin had fallen quite silent. You couldn’t hear the sound of Sabo’s boots on the wooden floor, nor any of his usual stream of cheerful commentary.

It was as though the house had simply swallowed him whole.

Behind you, the wind seemed to be slowly picking up in intensity again, carrying the distant rolling thunder closer. Fat droplets of rain began to plop down through the trees, into the grass, hitting the windshield with intermittent but purposeful force.

The anxiety of the previous night began to creep up the back of your neck again, adrenaline pooling in your lungs as cool as rainwater.

Pat. Pat. Splat.

You’d been dead asleep when it started. The crash of glass had jarred you awake, the sound of screaming shortly after like nothing you’d ever heard. High and ragged and inhuman, like someone burning, like agony and rage and consumption tearing insufficient human vocal cords raw in punishment for attempting to express a pain and hatred so vast.

The sound had frozen you to your core, welding your joints in place, leaving you trapped and horrified in what had only moments before been one of the safest places in your world. There was a moment of quiet, punctuated by gasping, sickened breathing, by the steady pattering of something thick and wet falling to the floor of your bedroom. Shambling steps cracked the glass that littered the floor, erratic, listless...and this time, when that primal shriek ripped through the nauseating silence, you jolted beneath your sheets. Just barely. Just enough.

Something heavy had pressed down on the end of the bed, so close to your frozen legs that any further movement would have brought you into contact instantly. The thick, wet liquid dripped against the blankets as the unseen thing made its unsteady way up towards the headboard where you lay and it stank, rot and decay flooding your nostrils, turning your stomach almost enough to make you retch--

If it hadn’t been for Sabo, if he’d taken even a second longer, if he hadn’t dropped his water glass to shatter in the sink and flown down the hallway like a man possessed, it might have touched you. It might have dribbled that foul bile onto your face, into your mouth, and you would have screamed...you were sure you would have died. But as it was, you never saw it. Mercifully, you never saw it.

The weight had lifted from the bed the second your bedroom door had crashed open, and though you still hadn’t quite been able to make yourself move you heard it, Sabo’s fury and something that sounded suspiciously like metal as it sang through the air, only to crash into the thing with a sickening crack.

When he’d pulled you out of bed, he’d faced you away from the thing. From the mess you were sure must lay just beside where you’d been sleeping. The second he had you standing, the same spell that had frozen you sent you spinning into action, and he followed your lead. The two of you had grabbed what was easiest, throwing food and ice into a cooler, grabbing the first aid kit you usually kept for camping excursions, and you’d been in the car and out onto the road without evening looking back.

If it hadn’t been for several overturned cars, for several houses that stood like guttered ghosts with gaping eyes of broken glass, for the smoke that rose and billowed in the direction of town, it might have seemed like a normal night.

Sabo had turned on the radio only long enough to confirm that they were in range of nothing but the emergency broadcast system. Other than that one set of lonely taillights, you might have been the only two people left on--

All at once, the cabin lighting sprang to life, startling you from your reverie in a moment of mingled relief and panic. The warm orange glow of welcoming old lights filled the previously menacing space, and faintly over the sound of the rising storm, the labored rumbling of the generator could be heard.

“Looks like Ace actually left the thing topped off last time he was here, but we can still cook out in the fireplace if you w—” Sabo jogged back into view from where he’d disappeared—either to the basement or the back of the house—but his triumphant tone sagged into worried silence when he found you, ashen, still standing in the open doorway where he’d left you.

“I’m okay,” you said, though your voice wavered unconvincingly. A gust of wind splattered the steady drizzling rain against the back of your neck and this time you did jump, before stepping over the threshold and closing the door a bit harder than you’d intended.

“I’m okay.” You said again, more an order for your own frightened heart than a reassurance for your fiance, but he stepped forward anyway and pulled you into his arms again.

“We’re okay,” Sabo replied.

You breathed deeply into the warmth of his chest, and believed him.

**

That first day passed in a near constant stream of activity that kept your mind thankfully occupied, either by the seemingly endless stream of maintenance tasks the cabin seemed to need, or the loving, doting, and supportive attentions of your lover.

The storm that had blown in had made getting the windows unboarded and opened untenable, but the downstairs bathroom hadn’t required much to get to a usable state, and with the boiler kindly willing to acquiesce to your request to light, you’d been able to share a hot bath before changing into your set of spare clothes.

By the time you were nestled down in the sea of blankets Sabo had pulled out of their vacuum-sealed prisons and roasting hot dogs in the fireplace, the memory of the night before had slunk back into the recesses of your mind again, like the dregs of a bad dream. Sabo had said something about the storm likely interfering with the radio, and that he’d try to get it working once it had blown over.

You hadn’t argued. Eventually, you knew, you would have to open those floodgates, to see how bad things were...but if you had to wait another night to make it real, that was okay.

When your lover had rolled you gently onto your back in that sea of blankets, in the warmth of the dying fire and the storm raging outside, you had opened beneath him like a flower. He’d made short work of the boxers you’d borrowed, of the t-shirt which had been your only quick option during your flight.

The warmth of his hands as they cradled you to him, as they lifted your hips onto the improvised cushions and angled your body into a comfortable position, burned away, at least for the moment, any worries for the world outside.

Instead you sank into the sight of him, into the way the firelight seemed to dance across every inch of soft skin, every furrow of relaxed muscle, entranced by the way his belly contracted as he shimmied out of his pajama pants.

“Beautiful,” You’d whispered, as you opened your arms to him, following the familiar lines of muscle up over his shoulders to clasp around him, to close the gap between you that kept his warmth so cruelly from you.

“Not like you, love,” Sabo sighed softly, reverently, stifling any possible retort as he licked into your mouth at last, lapping over your tongue, tasting you as much as kissing you until any breath, any thought but desire for him, had been consumed.

Sabo had always been ravenous, had always run you up against the limits of what you thought you could take with, and though he was as gentle and supportive of your pleasure as he was of all aspects of your life, there was always that glimmer. That glint in his eye that suggested he would always need one more, one more from you, to ever properly be sated.

That night, with the outside world denied entry and the distractions of your previous life distant and moot, he was like a man possessed.

Even as the kiss left you gasping, wanting, he’d trailed lower, suckling marks into your throat that would take days to fade, lapping and soothing over each one as though determined to taste every inch of you.

“You know I’d give you all of me...everything I am,” his voice, usually so smooth and even and honey-sweet, came out raw and low, more a sensation against the peak of your nipple than voice before he closed his mouth around the bud, swirling it with his tongue as a promise of pleasure to come. Warmth blossomed through your body and when you whined softly in response, body flexing as you arched your back to press more of yourself into his mouth, he obliged in earnest, his palm sliding between your shoulderblades and lifting you like you weighed nothing at all.

Under any other circumstance he might have teased you. Might have made you ask, might have made you use your words, but the patience required had fled him. He kissed across your chest, watching the way your eyes fluttered, the way you flushed and writhed at his touch, and simply could not imagine a world where making you wait could be worth it. At least, not today.

This time, when he closed his mouth over the sensitive peak of your nipple, the fingers of his free hand trailed lower, soothing over your belly, calming your writhing body down even as he worked his teeth into the tender flesh there. This time when you cried out, he moaned sympathetically in return, as though the sudden surge of pleasure had rushed straight from your nerves into his, though he did nothing to lessen the intensity, the sympathetic noise turning into a low groan of need as his fingers dipped lower still, stroking the slick building between your thighs gently.

“Sabo, please,” your voice, thick and heavy with need, with a desperation much bigger than the moment, snapped his gaze towards yours for a moment.

“I know, I know,” he’d whispered, burying the quirk of his lips between your breasts, down your belly, nestling momentarily in the tuft of hair just above where you needed him most. “Gotta get you ready, darling, I—”

Rather than finishing the thought, rather than giving you the opportunity to thrash or beg him further, Sabo had dipped his tongue between your lips, watching you with hazy eyes as the taste of you flooded his senses. He teased the hood of your clit with the tip of his tongue, barely swiping over it in little circles before dipping lower, kissing between your legs, licking and suckling you open.

By the time he’d lifted his head again, chin slick with the evidence of your need, you almost felt hysterical. He watched in mesmerized pride as your clit twitched like a second heartbeat, swollen almost entirely out from under its hood, though only for a moment before finally giving you what you needed. The sound you made when he’d closed his lips around your desperate nub had almost sounded wounded, and Sabo had smoothed his palms up the backs of your thighs, tapping them wordlessly to get you to hold them while he drove you towards your peak.

It took almost nothing for the first orgasm to take you, racing up and crashing against your clit with every swirled beat of his tongue, though he’d given you only a moment to revel in it before slicking two fingers into your spasming cunt. He knew your body better than his own, knew where the little spot inside you was that made you growl and thrash in his arms like a thing wild, and he grinned against your core as your breathlessness gave way to a wail of pleasure that might almost have contained his name.

He didn’t let you rest. The pleasure of the first orgasm never quite ebbed enough to end as he dragged you through the pleasure up, up towards another peak. You were burning in his arms, beneath his mouth, molten desire stripped of more complex concerns, and he hadn’t even filled you yet.

“M’ready, I’m ready, S—aaa, Sabo please, plee-eeeaaa,” your pleas dissolved into another wordless groan as the pleasure began to crest again; this time when you came, your back arched so sharply that it practically lifted off the floor, your legs falling open at your sides as sense momentarily left you, displaced by the sensitive ecstasy he had driven into you.

You’d looked down then, vision hazy and eyes half-lidded through a cloud of bliss, and the small part of your mind still capable of thought expected to see him pulling away, getting to his knees, surely, surely you were wet enough now, pliant enough now...but the gaze that met yours from where your lover still lay between your legs seemed almost maddened with lust. At some point in the fog of your pleasure he had moved, knees spread out in a low crouch, and despite your previous two orgasms arousal twisted low in your guts as you realized he was rutting himself against the blankets beneath him, mindlessly soothing his own need while he drank from yours.

“Awww, I felt that, baby,” he whispered against you, grinning positively lethally in the firelight as you clenched and dribbled around his fingers. “Do you like that? Do you like knowing what you do to me, my love? How desperate you make me?” his voice was low, almost teasing despite all, as he rutted his hips against the blankets in quiet demonstration.

“Yes...fuck, yes,” you hadn’t bothered to hide it, he knew, and even if he didn’t, it wasn’t like your body was capable of covering for your lie. Sabo kissed the inside of your thigh in appreciation, though that hunger seemed to rise in him again when he slicked his fingers out of you only to watch your hole flutter around nothing.

Part of him wanted to simply dive back down into you, to slick his tongue in as deeply as he could and drink until he was full...but that would have been selfish. And besides...he had all the time in the world now worship at the altar of your thighs.

Gently, carefully, Sabo shifted his weight, sitting up on his knees properly again. He rested his cock, swollen and red and leaking, along the entire length of your slit as he leaned over your, taking his weight on one splayed palm so that he could lean down over you, nuzzling his forehead against yours. Beneath all that ferocious hunger, he loved you so, and the warmth that spread through his chest at the way you lifted your watery eyes to meet his almost quelled the need scrabbling between his ribs.

Almost.

He allowed you one last moment to breathe, enjoying the way you rolled your hips against his as he rutted the head of his cock against your clit once, twice, and then he was guiding himself lower, slick with your own pleasure and his slick as he rocked himself forward, fucking himself just barely through the spasming ring of your opening. The heat of you nearly knocked him senseless, and the mingled cry of desperate pleasure and relief was so mutual that there was no way to tell where your voice stopped and his started. His hips stuttered, pleasure surging through him at even this shallow connection, and he only managed to pull himself partially out of you before plunging back down, this time to the hilt.

Whether it was the terror that had driven you here, or the desperation for the normalcy of this intimacy, you might never know, but you would have sworn in that moment that you’d never felt so full in your entire life. Sabo gasped again, the sound sending rippling shocks of pleasure out from where you were connected, grinding himself in deeper still, fucking little spurts of precum against your cervix. When he kissed you it was so soft as to be jarring; a tender lament for what was to come.

Carefully, purposefully, Sabo moved you, unhooking the leg you had wrapped around his waist on instinct so that he could drape your knees over his elbows. Palms splayed against the makeshift bed as he held you open, letting you feel the way he pulsed and twitched inside you as he pulled halfway out, and fucked down in again, angling his hips to rut over the spot he’d been worrying with his fingertips before.

“Breathe for me, love,” he whispered, tone almost cloyingly sympathetic as he drove his hips downwards, patience finally slipping away as he took you in deep, rough strokes.

The instruction did nothing to stop the way the pleasure rushed into you again, leaving no room for air, for thoughts, for intention. Your eyes rolled back, and Sabo suckled your tongue into his mouth, toying with it the way he had your clit even as he ground his hips down to scrub against the little nub in turn.

You were going to cum again, he was going to make you cum again, and you babbled incoherencies against his tongue as that familiar feeling began to twist and tighten inside you again.

“That’s it darling, that’s it. Perfect love, gorgeous, do it for me, I know you can,” he panted against your lips, and you could feel it too, the way he was swelling inside you, the way his hips were starting to stutter and twitch.

You wanted him to feel good, needed him to follow you over the edge this time, and you knew he knew, somehow, knew he could tell what you wanted like he was living inside your head with you. Some distant part of you wondered if he was. If that would really be so bad.

With a last push of coordination Sabo wedged his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and pressing down against it, rubbing neat, almost vicious circles, and you were gone, that final orgasm chasing away any sense that wasn’t the pleasure he fucked down into you. The all-consuming heat of it stole his breath too, and it was all he could do to rut you through it before he had to bury himself in you, teeth clenched and cock twitching as he filled you with hot, thick spasms of his pleasure.

Time seemed to trickle by, thick and slow as the heat between you as you both tried to settle back into reality. Love seemed to cradle you in all directions as Sabo murmured to you, gentle praise and careful check-ins melding together in your mind into a comforting static of safety.

You weren’t sure when sleep took you, only that when it did it was to the feeling of your lover’s lips against yours, and the soft slickness of his cock softening out of you. Bliss.

**

It almost felt like a honeymoon, despite the circumstances. That first week had been a whirlwind of activities, interspersed with spontaneous, increasingly intense lovemaking that left you dizzied, but satisfied and contented.

Sabo had always been an early riser, and you often found that by the time you joined him—at the oh-so-late hour of 9ish every morning—he had completed some new battery of tasks that left the day open for less strenuous maintenance, or walks down by the lake, or a bonfire in what turned out to be a very lovely firepit in the back yard.

If it hadn’t been for what had driven you from your home to begin with, you might have been content to simply let yourself fall into the routine he had set up for the two of you. Sabo certainly seemed devoted to keeping your mind off things—he hated to see you worry, hated the idea of you ever having to feel frightened—and had it not been for the issue of the radio, you might have settled into this new life without terribly much regard.

Sabo had always been, as far as you knew, an open book with you. Even when you’d just started dating, even when your relationship was fresh and tentative and new, he had always answered your questions honestly, had prioritized open communication and honesty as a core tenet of your life together.

So it concerned you when, after a week of trying to get signal, Sabo had outright refused to let you into the radio room to give it a try.

You’d thought he was joking at first, had laughed and tried to brush past him, but he’d taken your hand and spun you into a little dip, dancing you away towards the stairs that led down to the loft room you’d taken up residence in.

“It’s kinda...unsafe in there, to be honest,” he’d said, when it was clear that simply kissing you wasn’t going to put the conversation to bed.

“What do you mean ‘unsafe,’” you’d asked skeptically, the corners of your lips still upturned in a grin despite all, half-convinced this was all one of his jokes, though the good humor had started to melt back towards confusion and concern when his expression didn’t give.

For a long moment, Sabo didn’t answer. Instead he chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused, and something in your stomach started to churn.

“Did you hear something?” you asked quietly. Sabo shook his head firmly.

“No no, nothing like that, it’s just. The only room in the cabin that’s not really finished.” He paused again, like he was trying to choose his words carefully, and when he met your gaze again there was something mournful, a little, in the blues of his eyes.

“Luffy’s grandfather set that room up in case of...emergencies. We weren’t even allowed to go into it while he was still alive, none of us had seen it until the deed to the place passed to us with his will. It’s just…” another short pause, and then. “It’s...boobytrapped. Kind of.”

There was a slight pause. Part of you had been tempted to laugh at the suggestion, vague images of Roadrunner and Wil E. Coyote running through your mind, but something in his expression stopped you from doing so.

“What kind of boobytraps…” you asked carefully, rubbing his arms with your palms. Sabo just shook his head.

“Luffy’s grandfather...Garp...got a little paranoid towards the end. He was sure Ace’s biological father was going to show up, that he needed to be ready for some kind of an attack…”

“Was he not on good terms with Ace’s father?” You asked quietly.

“No idea, we never knew him. By the time Garp started talking about this, Ace’s dad had been dead for nearly 20 years.”

Whatever concern or confusion had settled into your heart began to give way to sadness. Sabo’s eyes slid away from yours for a moment before he leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, but the guy’s ex-military, special forces, we only figured out there was anything wrong with the room because Luffy stepped on a loose board and almost lost his foot to some kind of wire trap set into the space beneath it.”

You sighed heavily, glancing warily over his shoulder to where the door to the radio room stood partially ajar.

“Sorry baby, I shouldn’t have pressed,” you started, but Sabo shushed you, pulling you into his arms and rocking you gently.

“Nothing to be sorry for, I’d have been curious too! It’s just...tough to talk about. I’ve got it mostly mapped out in there, but I’d die if you got hurt, and it seems safe to assume there probably aren’t...hospitals. To take you to, in any event.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and nodded, and for a time you let the radio room and its mysteries slip out of your mind. If he caught a signal, you knew he would tell you, and until then...it seemed reasonable to give the room a wide berth.

**

The real trouble started when your hastily gathered supplies began to ran low. Clothes weren’t really an issue, the cabin had a washer and a line to dry things on, and enough dry detergent to last the next 20 years, but the food had began to dwindle after the third day, and while the lake seemed to be well stocked with fish, running it dry didn’t make a lot of sense.

Hunting wasn’t an option, neither of you were particularly proficient with firearms, and the idea of killing and gutting anything bigger than a fish turned you both off immensely...which left only one real option.

“I’m going to make a run into town—”

“We’re going to make a run into town—”

“There’s one just about a half hour away back up the main road, and I’ll be back before you can even miss me,” Sabo said, kissing your forehead and then your nose despite the fact that you had crossed your arms rather tightly against your chest and were refusing to budge.

He sighed. You arched your eyebrows and stared at him, waiting.

“Do you think I’m not capable of putting canned food in a shopping cart?” you asked dryly.

Sabo scrubbed a hand over his face, looking helpless. “Of course not, this has nothing to do with competency or ability,” he said evenly, though that mournful look at begun to creep its way into his eyes again.

“Okay. Then help me understand. This is basic horror movie rules, Sabo, don’t split the group, don’t send people off on their own. How do I keep in contact with you with no phones, what if the car breaks down, what if you d—” you stop yourself, wincing, irritated at the tears prickling the edges of your eyes.

Gently, patiently, Sabo pried your arms apart, rubbing and relaxing the muscles until you went limp enough for him to take your hands.

“I’m going to come back. I know it’s horror movie rules, but another horror movie rule is to not leave home base unattended, right?” he asked, kissing the backs of both your hands. You scowled up at him, though the expression was somewhat dampened when you leaned forward to gently bonk his forehead with yours. He laughed, the chiming sound of it wriggling stubbornly into your heart, and you sighed.

“Okay...next time I’m going though. We’ll trade off. Deal?” You asked.

Sabo linked his pinky with yours. “I’ll even bring back walkie-talkie’s, there’s a hunting store in town that ought to have decently long range ones.”

You nodded, placated for the time being, though it made you queasy with anxiety to watch him pulling away from your little safe haven, even moreso to watch the way the little car seemed to vanish into the foliage like it had never been there at all.

Sabo felt it too, nausea churning in his stomach as he pulled away. He knew you’d be safe this far out, but leaving you behind felt awful.

Lying to you felt awful, too. You were so good, so loving, so trusting, and it broke his heart to have to not be honest with you...but it was only for a little while longer. Routine cured a great many ills, and once he had everything settled, your life together would be secure. Unshakable.

Just a little while longer.

**

It had been eerie, a little, that first time, walking back up into the cabin alone. Not quite so ominous as the very first day, but the silence of it was unsettling. Without the semi-constant flow of conversation with your lover, or the sound of hammering, or the promise of outdoor activities, the reality of your situation...of, potentially, the world’s situation...began to creep in at the corners again.

Sabo had made fairly quick work of...whatever the creature had been, that was sure, but he had taken it by surprise. And there had only been one.

What if they moved in groups? What if only some of them were shambling and loud and slow like that that? What if—

You shut the thoughts down, slapping your hands gently against your cheeks until the mental noise started to subside. If you were going to be functional through this, you were going to have to learn to adapt...and to trust the man you loved to keep his promises.

He would come back to you, car loaded with enough soup to make you sick of the prospect, and everything would be fine.

For a moment you had simply stood in the middle of the livingroom, looking around the space thoughtfully. Most of the actually necessary maintenance had been done by now, the only rooms still boarded were ones where the glass had been damaged somewhat, whether by the storm or disuse.

You’d found so many bed linens and vacuum-sealed bags of clothes you’d both wondered how many people Garp had actually intended to have stay at the cabin, despite Sabo’s assurances that to his knowledge he, Luffy, Ace, and the old man had been the only ones he’d ever seen there.

Still, there were two floors and a basement full of closets and storage that it would hurt nothing to sort through, and so you set about that task. In a blind stroke of luck, the first closet you’d gone through in one of the side rooms on the first floor had contained a record player, and five boxes worth of old vinyls. That, at least, was something, and you had chased the eerie silence out of the cabin with The Eagles and Steely Dan while you worked.

By the time Sabo came back—almost exactly an hour and a half on the dot—you had cleaned out several shelves worth of vinyls, card games, and board games, and were feeling in considerably better spirits.

Your lover had laughed when he’d come in to find you sitting in a sea of old school entertainment, blasting classic rock, and you’d dashed up into his arms, kissing him thoroughly once you’d checked to make sure he wasn’t injured.

“Not a hair out of place, just like a promised,” he’d said, cradling your cheeks to kiss you back for a moment before reaching around you to turn the record player off. You’d gone out with him then to find a pretty impressive haul. Canned food, a better can-opener than the rusty old one in the kitchen, what looked like bulk boxes of jerky and dried meats from what was likely backstock, dried beans, rice, a rice cooker, snacks, a much nicer first aid kit, and, as promised, two long range walkie-talkies.

“This should hold us for a month if we’re careful with it, and fish at least once a week,” he said. You blinked up at him.

“Sabo I’m reasonably sure there’s enough soup and rice here to last us to Christmas if we had to ration,” you said, looking at all of it. Nothing was in bags, as though he had hastily loaded everything he could grab into carts and dumped it into the car.

Silence stretched between you for a long moment.

“How bad was it,” you asked quietly, watching his expression carefully.

Sabo exhaled, long and slow. “Not as bad as it could have been, maybe. Mostly it looks like people just evacuated, there’s a lot of places to hide in the mountains, but…” he worried the inside of his cheek for a moment, and ran his hand through his hair. “There were a lot of places that looked...damaged. Windows smashed in, a couple of places looked burned out. I didn’t...see anything. Anyone. But there was blood. In too many places to just have been an accident, I fear.”

Wind swept through the clearing, rustling through the trees, and a small part of your new reality began to settle over the pair of you at last. There was plenty of what had been to scavenge...but it did not seem as though there was anything to go back to.

“If things are that bad all the way out here, then the cities…” you trailed off, eyes focused a little too heavily on a can of chicken soup.

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Sabo sighed. “Only thing we can do is stick it out here, and keep trying to find something on the radio.” He paused for a moment before leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Hey, at least we don’t have to worry about paying off those student loans anymore,” he said, kissing your cheek, and despite all you laughed just a little.

“That is one of the perks of the apocalypse. No rent either, credit scores are dead…” you said, glancing up at him with the tiniest grin before tugging him back towards the house.

“At least we’re together,” you added, and he beamed.

“At least we’re together.”

It took both of you, a bed sheet, and three trips to get everything he’d packed into the car in the house, and another hour spent organizing the kitchen into a well stocked and usable resource.

As you’d curled up together to sleep that night, you resolved to set what was out of your mind. There would be time to grieve...forever, perhaps, to grieve...but the first priority had to be keeping each other safe, and your spirits high. All you’d ever really had before was each other, at least on a daily basis, and you could do worse in the nebulous end of the world than having the love of your life by your side.

Sleep took you more easily, and when thunder rolled and rumbled through your little valley, nestled warmly in Sabo’s arms, you didn’t even stir.

**

Months passed, late summer blend into fall bled into early winter, and you and Sabo had fallen mostly into a comfortable routine.

Intermittently, perhaps a handful of times, Sabo had managed to raise someone on the radio. The people he contacted seemed healthy, sometimes scared, but nobody he spoke to seemed to know any more than they did. Occasionally, one of them would be willing to share their approximate location, but according to Sabo this part of the country had never been particularly trusting of strangers at the best of times, and he wasn’t terribly surprised most people didn’t want to give up their safe havens.

The people you did get information out of went up on a map you two had set up. While mostly people wouldn’t tell where they were, they were willing to share info about towns nearby, about the accessibility of supplies, and the levels of...activity that they’d seen.

It had been decided, after a week’s worth of debating back and forth, that given what appeared to be an increasing amount of activity, and given that Sabo was vastly more familiar with this area of the state than you were, that he would do the supply runs. They were few and far between, provided that he found well-enough stocked stores, and with the compromise that he go as early as possible, so that he wasn’t running around in broad daylight for...whatever might be there to see, you had eventually acquiesced.

The cabin was remote, but there was logic to keeping it locked and guarded with at least one occupant, as whatever this new world’s creatures were, they weren’t the only possible dangers that might crop up. While neither of you liked it, on the second big supply run Sabo had returned home with a rifle.

“You don’t have to use it, but I’d feel a lot better if you at least had it.” He’d explained, as you’d looked the thing over on the front lawn, frowning.

The idea of someone just stumbling onto your little refuge seemed extremely unlikely...but so had the world ending on a random Tuesday evening in August, previously. While you’d been mostly opposed in your previous life, it would have been silly to deny the ambient protection having the thing around provided. In the end, you’d agreed to keep it by the front door for emergencies during the day, and by your bedroom door for emergencies at night, and that had been the end of it.

All-in-all, you felt that the two of you were doing pretty well, all things considered. The cabin was comfortable and well-secured, you’d worked out a supply-running system that seemed to be keeping Sabo safe, and while the other people he’d found weren’t...accessible...knowing that the two of you weren’t the only people who had made it out, at least within range of the radio, was comforting enough to keep you both in good spirits.

For better or worse, everything seemed...perfect.

Which was why, when you were sorting through the most recent supply haul, trying to get all the consumables sorted from the toiletries and such, you weren’t exactly sure what to make of the slip of paper.

You’d almost thrown it away without thinking, eyes glazing over it when it dropped from between two bottles of shampoo, but just before it slipped out of your fingers and your mind entirely, you paused. Froze, rather, in the middle of the movement, and turned the paper over to look at it.

It was a receipt. It had been folded up and in on itself multiple times, long enough, perhaps, to accommodate the long list of supplies currently spread out at your feet.

Something acrid and metallic felt like it was creeping up your windpipe. Quickly, you had poked your head around the corner to check where Sabo was, only to find him chopping wood in the back yard, his breath clouded around his face in the cool winter air.

You watched him, your great love, until he looked up and smiled. You smiled back, and laughed a little when he blew you a kiss before going back to work.

You looked at him, and at the folded piece of paper on the counter, then back at him.

Maybe it was old. Neither of you had been the most fastidious people alive in the times before, perhaps this was simply from a long past shopping trip. Maybe it was from CVS, maybe that’s why it appeared to be several feet long.

That horrible, cold feeling lingered in your chest, though. Part of you wanted to look at it, if only to confirm that you were being ridiculous. Part of you felt like looking at it was a betrayal, was suggesting that you didn’t trust the love of your life.

Part of your mind began to turn over the radio room again, the fact that he was the only one leaving the clearing, that you hadn’t seen any part of the outside world beyond the lake and trails and grounds of the cabin in months.

It was absurd. A terrible train of thought. The manifestation of deferred grief, trying one last time to reason its way out of the end of your old life. You took a deep breath before picking up the piece of paper, determined to simply throw it away and be done, but the door opened just as you were about to let it go. On instinct, terrified for reasons you couldn’t imagine naming, you had stuffed it into your pocket instead, grabbing a jar of peanut butter and plastering on a grin just as Sabo came around the corner into the kitchen.

He paused for a moment at the sight of you, brows knitting together curiously as he approached you.

“You alright darling? You look a little pale,” he said, though he still stuffed his chilly fingers under your shirt, making you jump and laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, a little breathlessly, as you forewent the peanut butter in favor of warming him in your arms. “Just trying to get everything edible sorted out from cleaning stuff and meds, I think I’m just hungry,” you said bracingly, and he visibly relaxed.

“Tell ya what, let’s have a bath, and then I’ll get the stove going so we can make dinner, there’s enough wood chopped up to last us through the week I think,” he said, kissing your lips, your forehead, your nose.

You sighed contentedly, leaning into his affections with a nod. “Sounds perfect ‘Bo,” you said, and he grinned before popping off to run the water.

You stood there for a moment, fingertips brushing the outline of the receipt in your pocket, before calling out to Sabo that you were going to grab you both some fresh clothes and then you’d be in to join him. He acquiesced airily, easily, and you dashed upstairs, guilt and fear clawing at your throat.

You hated lying to him. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had. You stashed the crumpled receipt inside your pillowcase, before grabbing the promised clothes to bring down to him.

Next time he left, you’d look. It would be nothing, he’d laugh it off or console you for the misunderstanding...it would be nothing. You had no reason in the world to suspect him—objectively, the world’s most perfect partner—of anything at all. Let alone whatever your paranoid little mammal brain seemed to be trying to put together here.

When you reappeared with comfortable clothes and sank down into the bath with him, he held you tightly, washed your hair, your back, drained the water and refilled it when it started to cool, and made tender, gentle love to you until the water had half sloshed out and you were both laughing and sated.

‘Stupid,’ you’d thought dreamily, sleepily, as your fingers brushed the receipt later, tucked into bed and warm and safe.

‘I’ll just throw it away in the morning,’ you promised silently, as Sabo’s arms drew you into sleep.

But you didn’t though.

You kept it on you, somewhere, at all times. A strange, cursed talisman, unopened and dangerous, Schrödinger’s evidence of something unformed and unfathomable that you couldn’t bring yourself to define.

The winter holidays came and went, a New Year passed, to be spent fully in the new world you’d come to accept. The folded, worn piece of paper burned a hole in your pocket until finally, towards the end of January, supplies had dwindled low enough that Sabo announced he would be going on another run.

If he noticed your tension, or the way you seemed to hover and linger around him while he mapped out the route, he seemed to attribute it to nerves. Which wasn’t entirely an inaccurate, made it feel at least a little less like lying when you wrapped your arms around him and made him promise, as always, to come back to you safely.

**

Sabo watched you in the rearview mirror as he drove away, watched the little wave you raised as he trundled onto the path...and watched you disappear into the house before he’d made it fully into the trees.

Something was wrong. Like a miasma wafting through the air, nebulous, maddening, something had been wrong for weeks now.

It wasn’t always, of course, it wasn’t even often...but it was enough. Every now and again he’d catch you staring into space, eyes furrowed, worrying at the seams of your pants like you were trying not to be sick.

You never flinched away when he reached for you in those moments, always sank into the comfort of his touch...but you wouldn’t talk about it, either. At first, he’d been willing to brush it off as grief; your whole life, your whole world had changed, outside of your relationship with him. It was only natural that, eventually, that that wound would need tended to.

It was the little moments of fear that he couldn’t quite place, that unsettled him the most. Sometimes he would walk into the room and you would jump, startled; you always laughed it off as a moment of inattention, but even minutes later that haunted look would still be there, glimmering in the depths of your eyes…

He hated it. He hated that something was frightening you...and he hated that he couldn’t figure out what it was. He’d made sure everything here was as perfect, as comfortable, as safe and quiet and enjoyable as he possibly could. You had routine, you had fresh air, good food, books and games and music and—not to be forward—as many orgasms as he could give you in a given night.

Everything was perfect. So what had changed? What was different now, that hadn’t been there before?

Sabo pulled to a stop at the opening of the little side road, staring at the depression on the other side of the road for a moment before picking up the walkie-talkie.

“Eagle 1 to Kid Gorgeous, you there baby?” Sabo called casually into the receiver, and waited.

And waited. And waited.

He frowned, his heartbeat starting to falter, to race.

Something was wrong.

You’d never taken this long to answer, not since the first time when you’d accidentally gotten on different channels. Sabo pulled out onto the street wide, pulling back around to head back to the house, when the receiver crackled to life. He stopped dead in the street in his haste to answer it.

“Sorry, sorry hon, Kid Gorgeous was an idiot and dropped the pitcher of iced tea on the floor,” your voice settled over his frightened heart like balm on a wound, and he sighed, almost laughing before pressing the button down to answer you.

“Eagle One’s sorry to hear that, do you need me to come back and take care of the glass?”

“No, no, nothing here broken but a pitcher and my pride. Hopefully they’ve got another one where you’re headed.”

Sabo sighed, willing himself down out of panic mode, and put the car in drive, turning back onto the road again. “Roger that. I love you.”

“I love you, too, ‘Bo.”

With a deep breath, he set the receiver down in the cupholder, and willed himself to let the paranoia go.

If there was something wrong, you’d deal with it together. He had to trust you, he had to, or this was never going to work.

**

Sabo had been gone for maybe an hour by the time you collapsed onto the livingroom couch, annoyed with yourself and sweaty in the heat of the cabin despite the chill outside.

Part of you just wanted to take a shower and lay down, sleep through the empty hours until your lover returned. This time he was going on a run a couple little towns over, having mostly exhausted anything useful from the tiny town you’d been taking things from so far.

Your bed was comfortable, and so inviting after cleaning up glass and spilled tea and feeling very silly indeed...but the receipt was also up there, burning a hole in the innocent linen of your pillowcase.

Unwilling to go up there and face it, even for the reward of a nap, you had picked yourself up, resolved to grab a granola bar and head to the back of the cabin, to start going through the larger storage closet and its contents.

This little organization project had become something of a personal challenge for you, and Sabo had respected it, sitting with you while you worked on it sometimes, but largely leaving it to you. It was nice to have something to be working on ongoingly, nice to have something to do beyond just tidying up and listening to music when you were guarding the fort.

In hindsight, it was a little funny that the one truly unattended thing you were allowed to do here was what unraveled the entire facade.

The back bedroom seemed to have been Sabo’s youngest brother’s bedroom from when he was a child. The bed was covered over with protective covering still—as presumably Luffy had chosen a different room in the oddly cavernous cabin when he’d gotten older—the walls adorned with posters about different insects, the jungle-themed wallpaper adding a little extra fun and whimsy to what appeared to be a large collection of toys, action figures, and little pirate ships along the dressers.

You smiled fondly, but mostly left those things alone, determined instead to make the closet accessible, and to see if there was anything they might find useful inside.

It had occurred to you to ask, early on in your time here, whether Sabo’s brothers might try to find the cabin themselves. Sabo had looked hopeful for a moment, though his expression had quickly turned thoughtful.

“Lu’s off working on that nature preserve, and Ace is out there working with some of his buddies with the firewatch again,” he had said, smiling, if perhaps a little sadly. “They’re way out west...and while Ace has his Jeep, I don’t know that they’d risk such a long ride back. At least not until...or if...this craziness starts to die down.”

And that had made sense. It saddened you that Sabo might be out of range of his brothers for quite a long time, but neither of you had a solution for it, and so, like so many other things, you had simply learned to let it go.

You’d mostly been going through the boxes on autopilot, letting your tired mind drift while you went through what looked like children’s toys, books about beetles, old boxes with parts of expired experiments, a very dead chia pet...but you stopped when, at the bottom of the third box, a hand-crank radio slid into view.

It was pristine, despite how long it had likely sat buried underneath other toys and the remnants of childhood adventures past. You pulled it out of the bottom of the box, and for a long time you just...stared at it.

You glanced up at the ceiling, up towards the vague direction of the radio room that you’d never entered, towards the radio that was your only link to the outside world, the one thing in the house you’d effectively been forbidden to tamper with.

“It’s just a toy...it probably doesn’t have enough range to pick anything but the emergency broadcast system up,” you muttered to yourself, turning it over in your hand. Nothing on the back listed a distance, only a range of frequencies the little radio could pick up.

“Nothing but AM out this far probably, anyway. Maybe some automated church broadcast…”

you swallowed hard, suddenly stifled, like the walls of the cabin were pressing in on you, frozen, waiting.

What could it hurt? With slightly shaking fingers, you pulled the crank out of its cradle, and turned it. The first few times, nothing seemed to happen. Maybe it was broken, maybe it was so old it couldn’t be charged.

You turned it for 30 seconds, nothing. You turned it for another 30 seconds, nothing. You turned the crank for a full additional minute to no immediate response, and just as you were about to give up, to call it dead or broken and put it back in the box marked as unusable...the little front display lit up, and a voice blared out, lively and jarring in the solitude you’d come to accept.

“Annnnd folks we’re at the top of the hour, you’re listening to 43.3 AM, The Buzz. This is Buzz McCallan, comin to you with News on the 8s!”

You sat there for nearly 40 minutes, unmoving and sick. Through News on the 8s, through the update on sports, through a call-in section that seemed to be comprised of mostly disgruntled truckers...and through the Daily Update. A section on the reconstruction efforts, after the world’s brush with death.

After. The end of the world, as it turned out, had lasted for perhaps 3 weeks of sustained bloodshed and chaos, before the world had figured out how to fight back. It had taken another month after that to take stock of what had been lost, and to begin airdropping packets of a compound that seemed to reverse the damage to the parts of the brain that governed behavior and pain tolerance that the infection had damaged.

Now, nearly 6 months after the initial outbreak, the world, while still recovering...had mostly put itself back together again.

The little radio had finally run out of the charge you’d given it just as Buzz McCallan had finished his rant about gas prices, and when it shut off you simply sat there in the tinny, ringing silence.

Your mind was blank, perhaps mercifully so, as you rose on shaking, numb legs, and let your internal autopilot carry you up the stairs to the bedroom you’d been sharing.

By this point, you knew what you’d find as you fished out the crumpled receipt, and let it fall open in your hands.

Every item, listed and accounted for, dated and timestamped ‘Your cashier today was Marta!’ He’d paid in cash. He’d received $5.29 in change.

You wondered, somewhat perversely, if the people in the parking lot had thought he looked strange, dumping all of his neatly bagged groceries out, bag by bag, into the back of his car. You wondered if they thought it was one of those doomsday preppers, still too affected by the near-miss with apocalypse to think clearly.

You wondered if they thought he was nuts.

The whole world was still out there. Your job, your friends. Chinese takeout and movie trailers and neighbors you had always greeted politely but had no desire to meet.

“He’s keeping you prisoner,” a voice in your mind whispered. You frowned, brows furrowed, and shook your head.

“He’s never tried to stop me from leaving the cabin,” you whispered into the stagnant air.

The voice in your mind, which remembered horror movies and true crime podcasts, tutted. “Not the cabin. But have you so much as touched that car, unless he was there with you unloading groceries?”

You knew you were having a breakdown. You knew it was too much to take in, to understand.

“Something really did happen to us...to everyone, though. Maybe he’s just scared. He’s trying to keep us safe…” you whispered, your throat tightening around panic and tears and anger and grief.

“Sure. And that holds up for the first supply run...but you know he knew by the second. He’s paying in cash. He kidnapped you.”

Kidnapped. The word rocketed around your mind like a meteor, crashing through your rational thoughts, your excuses, battering your wounded and confused heart as it made its way down to lay like lead in your stomach.

Your internal voice didn’t have anything else to add, it seemed; the damage had been done, the illusion shattered. You had no idea what to think, what to do—your phone had been misplaced at some point early on, although now you wondered whether he hadn’t just chucked it into the lake, your purse was where you’d left it ages ago: in the car.

Still...you had to get out. Didn’t you? You couldn’t stay here, you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t know what happened. You couldn’t trust the love of your life.

Hot, stinging tears welled up and began to fall at that. Did you even know him? What was he capable of? Would he hurt you, if you tried to get away?

You shook your head so roughly your neck cracked, leaping up off the bed as you tried to stave off what you were sure was a panic attack.

You changed your clothes into something warmer, changed into a pair of the hiking boots you wore when the two of you went out fishing. The road was out there, you could follow it to the highway. Find someone. As long as you made it off the forest drive before he came back, you could make it. You tore through the kitchen, gathering food, filling your water bottle, getting a backpack you’d taken from one of the closets ready to depart.

You’d leave him a note. With the receipt and the radio. You could at least do that. Despite all, the idea of leaving him with nothing, with no way of knowing what had happened to you, hurt too much to consider.

After a moments thought, you grabbed the rifle from where it sat, primed, leaning against the doorway, and slung it over your shoulder. You didn’t know how far you’d have to go to find help, but walking alone in a world you hadn’t been part of in six months without any sort of protection seemed unwise, somehow.

The adrenaline in your system wasn’t helping the way you thought it should. Your body felt sluggish and unwieldy, like it might give out and drop you to the floor at any moment. Writing out the note felt like moving your hand through cement, comprehending the words to explain felt like sand against your brain. Everything hurt. The lights were too bright, your ears were ringing.

It was hard to hear anything over the sound of your body’s resistance to its new conditions. Which was probably why you hadn’t heard it when the car had come trundling to a stop. Hadn’t heard the sound of Sabo’s footsteps as he’d bounded up the stairs.

You almost screamed when the front door popped open, but when you whirled around with the rifle, at first, your lover had laughed—instinctively, nervously.

“Hey love, wh...what’s going on? You weren’t answering on the walkie,” he asked, raising his hands slowly, head cocked to the side in confusion, as he looked from the muzzle of the rifle to you.

The words seemed locked in your throat, and when you just stared at him, the look on his face changed from confusion to alarm. To fear. You grit your teeth, hating it, hating him, hating yourself.

“What’s going on, sweetheart...what happened here…?” Sabo took a tentative, slow step towards you. Your body, frozen to the spot, only managed to stare back at him, the muzzle trained on his chest still.

Those cornflower blue eyes you loved so dearly flickered between you and the gun again before looking back towards the entry hall table...only to fall upon the offerings you’d left there. The radio. The receipt. The rudiments of a note.

For the briefest flickering of a moment, Sabo’s expression went entirely blank, eyes darkening down to blackened slits of panic and pain that seemed to flash through your own chest sympathetically.

“Luffy’s room, probably, huh,” he whispered thickly.

You nodded, your own voice still trapped in your chest. You wondered idly whether you had truly lost your voice, or whether your body knew that if it let you speak you might never never never stop screaming.

You took a deep, unsteady breath. Sabo took another step towards you, pain and sorrow etched across his face once more.

“Let me have the gun, sweetheart. I swear I’ll explain, I’ll tell you everything. No more secrets. Just...let me have this,” He said softly, earnestly, lowering one hand slightly towards the rifle.

You took a jerky step back and he stopped, raising his hands again.

With a voice that was more breath and pain than sound, you whispered “I’ll shoot you.”

Tears welled delicately in Sabo’s eyes, but he shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

Your hands started to shake. Of course you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. The image of him, bloodied and cooling in the entryway, carved its way out of you like a knife and you whimpered...but held on.

“Why not,” you whispered again. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Sabo smiled gently, sadly, the tears slipping down his beautiful cheeks. “Because you love me...and the only ammunition I brought for the rifle are blanks.”

Dark spots began to swim in your vision then, the panic of the moment, the heat of the cabin, the agony of betrayal and confusion all beginning to wear through your senses. You had no plan for this, no experience to fall back on, the only comfort and safety you’d known in your adult life was standing opposite you, perched atop a castle of lies and coercion that you simply could not understand.

On instinct, you flung the rifle at him, winging it with all your waning strength as you lunged past him for the door.

He caught it with one hand, tossing it to the side as he spun to give chase, pressing something on the key ring as he did so.

Ahead of you, just barely out of reach, the front door swung closed ahead of you, and the odd trick mechanism clicked heavily into place. You ran into it, clumsy and sick with sadness and fear, just as Sabo caught up with you, colliding with your body and trapping you against the front door as the rest of the cabin responded to the panic button he had pressed.

His voice at your ear was so warm, so comforting, so unbelievably sad as he explained to you what was happening.

“Luffy’s grandfather really did lose it in his later years, the radio room actually is dangerous,” he whispered, running his palms soothingly up and down your arms despite the weight he was using to keep you pressed to the door. Just the way he had done a hundred thousand times before, conditioning you with his touch to be calm, to be pliant. Your mind felt like it was fracturing, leaning into the comfort of his touch just as it tried to wrestle your muscle control away from him.

Sabo shifted to make sure you could breathe and then continued. “He didn’t stop at the radio room, though. The doors and windows are all reinforced with steel, the doorframes are rooted into the foundation with concrete and rebar. I don’t know what he thought Ace’s biological father might be coming to do, but he prepped this place for war.”

Tears streamed down your face, frustrated, scared; part of you wished you’d just left well enough alone. That things could just go back to the way they were. Part of you didn’t understand how someone who loved you as thoroughly, as honestly as Sabo did, could do this to you. How anyone could ever do this.

“Why is this happening,” you whispered, partially muffled by the door.

Sabo sighed, sounding more weary than you’d ever heard him. “It was real, at first, whatever happened at the apartment. In the beginning all I could think about was making sure we got out here before it got worse, before people started to panic and the roads closed up. The storm really did interfere with the radio reception, and that little town really did look guttered out when I first made a run for supplies,” he said softly, fingertips lulling your unwilling body, coaxing you to relax. He kissed the back of your head, and it took all your control not to lean back into it.

“And it worked, you know, didn’t it? We got set up out here so fast, and since it’s private property and set so far back in the forest, nobody was able to follow us. Nothing sick made it out this far. You were safe, we were together, and…” he trailed off for a moment, forehead leaning against the back of your head, still trying to soothe you as the tears fell harder.

“...and we were happy. So happy. Happy as we’ve always been...and without any of the drudgery or people or circumstances that ever caused us stress. Remember, you said no student loans? No bills at all. No politics. None of your mean, ugly distant relatives, no more morning commute to work, no more mocking up powerpoints for rich assholes that never even commend you for your work.”

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, but he continued, his voice steadying into something righteous, something indignant, although it was clear that furor wasn’t directed at you.

“Every day some nonsense or another kept us apart, wore you down, caused us trouble...there was plenty enough in the inheritance to keep us comfortable, if the cost of living hadn’t just kept climbing and climbing and climbing...but then the infection started. Then we came out here, we got away...and I know it’s awful, but part of me was desperate for it to be the end. To be a REAL reset. The whole system is rotten…” One of Sabo’s hands slid down until he could wrap it around your waist, pulling you to him, rocking you carefully back and forth against the door.

It frightened you that he was still trying to comfort you, it frightened you more how badly you wanted him to, how badly you wanted all of this to go away.

Maybe he was right...it wasn’t like rent was getting any lower.

“Stop, please...Sabo, please,” your voice sounded reedy thin in your ears. Sabo splayed his palm out against your belly, kissed the back of your neck softly.

You sighed against the door, warmth blossoming through you. You couldn’t think. This wasn’t right.

When he spoke again, his lips still brushing the back of your neck, it was with a voice so wounded, so desperate, that you almost didn’t recognize it.

“Has this really been so bad?” he asked softly, rocking with you again, fingertips stroking the slight line of skin where your shirt had ridden up. You shivered, and he sighed with you, sympathetic, in sync.

“Is being here...being together...being beyond everything that hurt us before...safe and comfortable...is it really such a bad thing to want?”

Your eyes slip closed as his fingers, blunt and warm, dip beneath the waistband of your pants. Your brows furrow, but the fight’s gone out of you now. Whatever moment there might have been to escape this, to escape back into your body and yourself and the world...had passed you, at some point.

“We’re safe here...we’re taken care of here...we can live for each other and no one else...not many people get to boast a life like that,” this time when he kissed the back of your neck, lips trailing down towards your ear, you leaned back into him, into his touch.

The world stopped, the cabin walls pressed in, anxious, greedy. Waiting.

“No,” you whispered, and this time when you shifted, Sabo leaned off just enough to let you turn in his arms.

When he kissed you, long and deep, you sank into it. Back into the comfort, back into the stability of a world—of a life—that your lover had made so, so simple for you.

Sabo’s body shook against you, in longing, in relief, even as his fingertips slid lower to find you wanting. Needing.

He’d hated lying to you. Hated every moment of it. He’d tell you, he’d spend the rest of his life on his knees for you if you needed it. Anything for you to feel safe.

“You’re perfect,” he mouthed against your lips, your throat, between the valley of your breasts once he’d removed the stupid sweater that had kept you hidden from him.

“I love you,” he vowed as he sank to his knees before you, taking away the winter pants you would no longer need, tossing your hiking boots with them over his shoulder and away.

“I’m sorry,” he intoned, as he slid his tongue between your lips, laved worship and remorse against you, filled your exhausted body and broken mind with pleasure.

“Not like you,” you’d whispered back, to this, and to all, as you let him take the pain away.

He offered you an out, as he slicked his fingers into you, curling forward, giving you everything just like he’d always promised.

He offered you an out, as the pleasure peaked, wracking you with relief far beyond the moment at hand…

...and you took it.

[ros-sauce]

I see you post about system!Mafuyu every now and again and I am very curious about the specifics of your headcaon 👀👀 I've seen a lot of different takes from different people and I wanna know more about yours 🫵 :3

OK OK sorry I took a day to respond to this I was procrastinating on drawing. Uuuuhhh um ok my thoughts:

Also long ass post so I'm adding a readmore. CW for a little bit of self harm

Mafuyu (she/her if you ask but she does not care that much)

This is the one who exists when Mafuyu is being a Nice Girl. This Fuyu squashes all her feelings down and experiences the least sensation of them. She has zero sense of taste and is not receptive to pain. If Mafuyu goes to school while visibly having every disease, it is probably this Fuyu's fault. This Fuyu is fluent in customer service, and practically only speaks in customer service. Her mouth is the most in sync with her brain of all the Fuyus, so she can yap for extended periods of time. Also good at English. I think Mafuyu is probably aroace. I think the Fuyu generally experiences a bit of amnesia when another one swaps in, but it's most severe when they're swapping from Mafuyu. This Fuyu is not proficient in creating original music. She can play sheet music just fine and that's it for her musical skills.

Yuki (uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Whatever)

Most commonly seen when the Fuyu feels safe, so y'know, when they're alone or with Niigo or something. Their brain does not work very fast. They're aware they look like a fool sometimes. They're also aware this lowers people's expectations of them. Their favorite hobby is playing at being dense to piss people off. By people, I mean Ena. Yuki knows what they're doing when they piss her off. A discerning eye will detect a very tiny smile.

While the other Fuyus are pretty solidly 17-18 or however old The Fuyu is, Yuki is not very concrete. Yuki probably split off when Mafuyu was like ~8 or so, so sometimes Yuki also appears to be Like 8. But they're usually 17-18.

No Fuyu experiences sensations at normal person levels, but Yuki is the closest. Yuki might actually flinch upon eating something spicy. Maybe. They get absolutely miserable when they're hurt or sick. This Fuyu also scores highest in making original music, and also actively enjoys it.

This one is Not aroace but I don't think they know what they are. They definitely want to kiss the other Niigo members. Do not ask them any more questions they cannot answer them.

OWN (he/him)

Mafuyu and Yuki share the body about evenly, OWN is a rarer spawn. Only really shows up when things are Really Bad. This is probably a good thing, because OWN is kind of an asshole. Most of OWN's existence in front is spent criminally over or under-stimulated, he can't help it. He basically just pops in, limit-breaks until the Fuyu isn't about to explode anymore, and then recedes. Sometimes this means writing really angry songs. Sometimes, if Mizuki happens to be there (her OWN sensors are well-polished), it means Physical Activities. Mizuki has discovered that OWN is kind of like a dog that's been crated for too long, and she can wear him out by playing Hey OWN Do You Wanna Chase Me Come On Let's Play Chasing Me, or smacking him around in a way that is not dissimilar to playing bongos on a dog or cat.

I think OWN is also kind of destructive. Unconsciously eats the fuck out of pencils while writing and doesn't notice until it snaps. Eats the fuck out of his sleeves. Pulls on his hair a lot and chews his lip until it bleeds. Yeowch.

Also he has a really strong sensor for the LGBTQ+ community, which is why A) he said what he did to Mizuki in that one part of main story, and B) he recognized himself as cisn't much sooner than Yuki did. Sexuality-wise I think he's the same as Yuki, he's just too busy exploding to think about kissing niigo all that much. But he does sometimes get cute aggression for them and think about biting them. He probably does bite them (by which I mean mostly Mizuki as she is most commonly in biting range) sometimes. I think he might be a wild animal

^ This is what the Fuyus look like in their minds' eye. Yuki gets the rights to Actually Making The Body Look Like That, because they're kind of a happy medium between the others. OWN would bind his chest 25/8 if he could and Mafuyu doesn't think about cutting her hair until someone else (read: mother) decides for her that it will happen. Being an individual who likes to breathe, and finding ponytail balanced on shoulder to be a Bad Texture, Yuki would have a horrible time if either of those two were in charge.

I think the presence of a child sends Yuki and Mafuyu into co-fronting mode. Doing anything nursing-related in general as well. They both feel really protective of People Who Can't Advocate For Themselves. Co-fronting is basically the only time Mafuyu gets to feel fulfilled instead of just neutral. So she has positive associations with Yuki. Yuki is a little wary of both OWN and Mafuyu because they both tend to hurt themselves (through painful stim methods and ignoring existing pain and thus making it worse, respectively) and make it Yuki's problem.

[jokerfic]

helloooo do you have any book recommendations that are quite similar to your work? 💓

oh this is SUCH a good question! also a bit difficult to answer because the better the book, the more up-my-own-ass I look for making a comparison. I'm just going to offer a little selection with very brief summaries/bullet points and hope that you guys understand that most of this list is aspirational and I'm not claiming to be a peer to any of these writers particularly. putting it under a readmore because I know myself.

the very first one that sprang to mind is Badger by C. M. McKenna. A recovering addict forms a mutual, deeply unhealthy obsession with a ruthless vigilante. even though they connect with one another on a level that they can't seem to reach with anyone else, the relationship is volatile and unsustainable. trigger warnings for sadomasochism and brief details about past child abuse and CSA.

Sunshine by Robin McKinley - a career baker is abducted by a gang of vampires and left as prey for one of their own. When dawn breaks and he still hasn't touched her, the tables quickly turn. (I haven't read this one in a while, but remember it as being very in keeping with the kind of romantic relationships I write--prickly, complicated, slow-burning, maybe a little unsatisfying in that you never get quite what you want? Robin McKinley's romances were definitely a huge influence on my taste in general, so her bibliography is worth checking out. The Blue Sword is also good)

Helpmeet by Naben Ruthnum - a woman brings her dying husband to his childhood home to care for him in his final days. Romantic, grotesque, a novella about devotion and obsession. A quick read at under 100 pages, but not always an easy one. cw for body horror and some generally gross descriptions of a guy who's basically falling apart, but absolutely worth it, I think. I read this in one sitting and have been recommending it since. I'm getting increasingly interested in blending horror and romance, and this project marries the genres perfectly.

I'm going to pivot slightly and lean harder into the "aspirational" side of things-- the following books don't so much have things in common with my writing (or my writing with them) but they scratch my brain every which way, I love them, I've reread all of them at least 3 times, and they're definitely in mind when I think about how to plot a story or set a scene or progress through a romance. (you'll forgive that the first 2 options are YA-- I have a whole lecture about YA's stranglehold on marketing and how lots of books that are by every other marker "adult fiction" get sucked beneath the YA umbrella even though they don't belong there just so they'll sell better, but we won't get into it now)

The Folk of the Air Trilogy by Holly Black - fae court intrigue, scandals, treachery, and backstabbing + a central couple that hates each other so much that they just have to do some smooching about it. you love to see it. A lot of stuff billed as "enemies to lovers" is fangless because they're worried about making the "enemies" too unsympathetic or too mean-- not here. Here, there are several times when I was worried either half of the couple was actually going to kill each other, lol. Violent mutual obsession. Difficult to put down once you've started.

The Six of Crows Duology by Leigh Bardugo - mean, nasty criminal wunderkind Kaz Brekker is out for revenge, and also to take over the city's underworld entirely. Heists on heists, thousands of plates spinning at once, a crew full of misfits, and a girl that has become his right hand, his confidante, and his conscience (entirely against his will). we love a high fantasy crime romp, especially with such a complicated relationship at its center.

The Secret History by Donna Tartt - I can't ever put together a books rec list without adding this. If there's a single person out there who missed the early 2010s tumblr craze and doesn't know what this book is about: a California misfit finagles his way into an elite private college in New England, where he becomes fascinated by a small, elegant clique of Classics students. He manages to infiltrate the clique, and slowly becomes involved in their personal entanglements, quarrels, secrets, and-- eventually-- murder. Everything that has ever branded itself "dark academia" is trying to do what TSH did and has failed miserably. It is the blueprint and incomparable. Tartt's lush prose seduces you as quickly as the clique seduces Richard, and, like Richard, you don't want to leave, don't want this charmed existence to end. At least half of what I do is trying-- pretty unsuccessfully-- to be in conversation with The Secret History. It accomplishes everything it's trying to accomplish, and it's a privilege to read.

The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins - do you like found family? You won't for long. A fucked-up array of found siblings are being groomed to mysterious purpose by a father figure who has kept them locked away from the world at the Library, where they are raised and trained and tortured in turn. Carolyn, one of the more unassuming of these siblings, has a plan to get free-- a plan that quickly puts the whole world in serious peril. Like most of the rest of the books on this list, this one is un-put-downable, setting a breakneck pace and with compelling characters, and I'm just in so much awe at the way this is plotted-- it's a masterclass in compelling storytelling, and by a guy who's only ever written Linux manuals! I don't know how you write a debut novel like this. I think about it all the time.

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones - this is tumblr, everyone knows about Howl's Moving Castle, I won't belabor the point, but the book is different from the movie in a way that makes it very worth reading, and it's kind of the champion of bicker romance, a couple whose love language is low-level (to high-level) quarreling nonstop. they drive each other crazy and would also die for each other. so romantic <3

okay I've lost the plot. here's a bite size book rec blast to wrap it up and the points where I think we overlap: Piranesi by Susanna Clark (faith, optimism, gratitude and awe for the world you live in), The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery (taking the frightening step to build intense intimacy with a stranger), obviously the Thomas Harris Hannibal books (complicated romance with a killer). Set This House in Order by Matt Ruff (sometimes, your protagonists have a rich inner life that you have to navigate carefully-- some more than others). The Checquy Files by Daniel O'Malley (sometimes your female protagonist is pitched headfirst into a dangerous and mysterious world she's not prepared for and has to wing it the best she can. this one is a reach because that applies to thousands of books, I really just wanted to include it because these are fabulous books and fun to read). Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy (figures of great evil are vastly seductive, difficult to escape, and ultimately suffocating), Wise Blood by Flannery O'Connor and The Devil All the Time by Donald Ray Pollock (try as you might, you can't outrun God). (SERIOUS trigger warnings for the last three-- violence, sexual abuse and assault, all the grotesqueness that comes with southern gothic-- basically assume if there's something bad, then it's in one of those books.)

I think I'll call it there. Sorry I quickly abandoned answering your question and instead spent most of the ask on "here's a book you should read. here's another book you should read" but in my defense. you should read some of these. what you read ripples out into what you write, and these are some of my favorites, so that should count for something, right? lol maybe not but thank you for asking anyway because this was fun.

[faulty-heat-vents]

OoC: I'm looking to create a LANCER RP blog, as the whole thing looks rather fun and I've been itching to get some sort of interaction with the system for awhile yet.

What would you recommend the steps be for setting one up?

OOC talk below readmore, condensed to save scrolling

Imma be real, I am the worst person to ask abt this- Ash's clone shit is NOT canon compliant in the slightest, but I just said "fuk it we ball" and kept going anyways. I now just have to dig myself out of the narrative hole I made lmao

But I'll take an honest crack at it-

Read the corebook (if you haven't already) and find a plot point that interests you. Then, make a creature character that plays off that concept in a way you find fun

Most of us have play-compatible pilot builds, but not every character is a Lancer or Kavalier! Don't feel pressured to make a build if your character isn't a pilot.

Write up a character draft, establish a typing style and voice, and go buckwild.

Once you have a character in mind, interact with the other blogs on Lanceblr- either via reblogs, comments, or asks. We're basically just a giant, self-governing westmarch campaign at this point- and the more the merrier!

Tag your shit. Have tags for ooc talk, each character, and content warnings if need be. How you do the first two is entirely up to you, but I recommend following the standard formats for tw/cw tags

Other than that, I'll let others throw their hats in the ring. Welcome to Lanceblr, and feel free to put your blog in the comments once you've got it sorted out!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I move into my own apartment for an internship instead of with friends like I initially said I (more likely than not) would for a while?

CW: kinda long but I don’t think I can put a readmore on anon :(

I (20sNB) have an opportunity to do an internship in spring of 2024. My friend (20sF) and her husband (20sM, we’re all within ~3yrs of each other) have been working on renovating a single-wide trailer in a trailer park in the same town as the internship, and it will be done with them living in it for at least a good few months before my internship. I’ve helped them with renovations whenever I’m in town and they’ve promised/shown me the room they’re reserving to be my space because they’re so sure I’ll move in with them.

I’ll be honest, I was planning to at first. But that changed with a variety of factors contributing, including but not limited to:

The trailer was reportedly full of black mold. Abandoned dressers would be opened and a puff of mold dust would emerge from the doors. It was also previously a hoarder’s house possibly due to the amount of junk in and around the trailer. Nobody wore PPE during renovations as far as I’m aware, and seem to believe they’re “in the clear” as they’ve shown no side effects yet. They’ve literally kept up only exactly what’s required to legally say they’re ‘renovating’ instead of tearing everything down and reusing the foundation, but it’s still a concern for me due to the casual way it was brought up and addressed.

My friends admitted that the neighbors don’t like them much due to the loud noises day in and day out from the renovation, resulting in the cops being called on them several times as a noise complaint. I have a rough time as it is being close to strangers, and that anxiety/paranoia? isn’t alleviated by hearing that and seeing people come out of their own trailers to glare at us whenever we work on the property.

My cat (20F) would be moving in with me. She’s indoor-only, but cats are bound to run around at some point. There are numerous unvaccinated and unfixed strays in the park and I’m concerned for her health; she’s having a hard enough time just keeping down food, a virus or infection would make me put her down.

My friends own a Pomeranian that does not respect other animals and continuously harasses them by barking and chasing after them. My cat does NOT like dogs, and my repeated warnings that having them in the same room would result in the dog getting blinded and possibly even more severely injured have been waved away with “The dog will learn soon enough to leave her alone!”. I would also have two relatively small lizards with me, both of whom leave their terrariums regularly for general holding sessions and to run around while I clean their tanks. There is a nonzero chance of them being beyond the safety of the glass and the dog eating them as the dog has a high prey drive.

Being with them would save me and my parents MASSIVE amount of money as rent is nearly nonexistent with how low it is in the park; I would mostly help with other bills (such as water, electricity, groceries) and general housemate things like cleaning up after myself and helping cook or chip in for takeout every now and then. Both friends know how restricted my ability to really develop is in my house due to my family (such as not knowing how to make anything more complicated than air fryer food) and have expressed that they are eager to help me learn and watch me grow into who I am.

But for a while I’ve been very strongly leaning towards an apartment instead despite rent being crazy (my parents are willing to pay half but with 0 guarantee of a paid internship and uncertainty as to whether I can hold a part-time job at the same time it would still be a blow to my savings). It’s gotten to the point where my language is full of “My future apartment will have….” “When I move into an apartment do you think I should….” when discussing the matter with my parents with zero verbal room for considering living with my friends. Advantages to the apartment include having my own space, being much closer to my internship location (though my friends weren’t all that far out themselves), and no concerns about my pets being around strangers or other animals. My parents and grandma agree that an apartment sounds the safest for my pets’ physical health and my mental health.

However, I have yet to tell my friends. The F is a friend of a decade now, and the M and I aren’t exactly close but regard each other as siblings. While she might be hurt but understanding, I don’t know if I want to risk him or both of them blowing up on me for my decision after at least 6mo of helping here and there and encouraging them to finish renovating their own place. The closest I’ve gotten to saying anything is warning them that it isn’t guaranteed I’ll move in with them when they use language suggesting it is and that I’m trying to keep my mind open to all housing options, including renting a space in a family friend’s basement. Neither of them seem to have caught on to what I’m doing, though. So, WIBTA if I finally break it to them that I’ve decided on an apartment and move into a space without them? This might seem like a non-issue to outsiders but it very much is to me :(

(For slight additional context: my friend is typically very understanding and we do our best to communicate our feelings about joint activities especially. Her husband is the type of guy to get mad at the ‘politics’ of the new Barbie movie and the joke made out of the Kens.)

What are these acronyms?

[sumplysilly]

I draw stuff other than commissions I swear (CW hyper boob stuff under readmore)

LOOK AT MY OCS BOY. Pretty fairy outfit Damien & funguy taking a bloodbath. & cockatrice sona hyper milky man titties