#regardless of his expertise

[swagspren]

“Adolin, investigate this broken strap,” “Adolin, solve this murder,” “Adolin, testify in court for the fate of humanity.” This is a lot of pressure to put on a horse girl who just wants to duel

[yeonban]

Tobias shows very clear favoritism for fellow geniuses even when they aren't fun in any other way. Their intelligence alone makes them stand out enough for them to already be worthwhile in his eyes and they're sometimes the only reason he continues to maintain contact with certain organizations he normally wouldn't have bothered to network with

Any org ever: Geniuses are rare around here Tobias, already out the door: Same org: We've got one of our own though Tobias:

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

[mylittleredgirl]

buckle up folks, it's deep dive about chakotay hours!

season 2, "initiations"

@isthereintruthnobeauty1968 asked a question about chakotay in this post about the scene above:

for an infamous leader of an anti-federation rebel group he seems to firmly believe in its authority and ideals And to have (at least externally) adjusted to the blended crew seamlessly. what's the deal?

see, i don't think chakotay ever wanted to be a rebel, or even a leader for that matter.

he wanted to be a starfleet officer.

season 2, "tattoo"

chakotay enrolls in the acadamy as a teenager as young as he legally can ("tattoo"). he tells seven ("one small step") that he joined starfleet because of his love of paleontology, and he only turned away from that out of responsibility to the maquis and now to voyager.

[get a snack for this one y'all]

season 6, "one small step"

it doesn't come up often, but whenever chakotay talks about his pre-voyager starfleet career, it's always about first contact or archaeology. in "emanations," he compares their exploration of an alien burial moon to a mission he went on as an ensign, all while demonstrating his anthropology expertise. add that to him nerding out in "blink of an eye," "one small step," the dinosaur episode, and a bunch of other examples, he's a social scientist both by training and by inclination.

in the original star trek, they had an "A&A officer," a specialist in archaeology, anthropology, and ancient civilizations:

tos season 2, "who mourns for adonais?"

we never hear that term again, but that's the role chakotay often fills on voyager, and he's very happy whenever he gets to do it.

now, realistically, i don't know how much time pre-maquis chakotay would have spent in a blue uniform, because those skills would not make him an obvious choice to lead a maquis cell. ro laren sets up his character (unnamed) in tng as a tactical specialist who resigns to join the maquis:

tng season 7, "preemptive strike"

(which is a very polite and noble way to do it, as compared to eddington's defection in ds9.)

if he was in fact ro’s teacher (i think so, despite a stardate conflict in some later dialogue), it seems very in-character to me that chakotay could have started out pursuing a sciences path before showing an aptitude for piloting, strategy, and/or command. given what we know of him, regardless of his own passions or preferences, if a senior officer noticed his skills and encouraged him to change career tracks, he would do it.

teen angst era aside, he respects authority. he argues against dogmatic ideology when it's inflexible to the needs of the moment, but he likes working within a command hierarchy, and for better or worse, he is easily swayed by charismatic leaders.

season 1, "caretaker"

not only does he yield to janeway's authority on voyager before she even asks him to, and then molds himself into the kind of first officer he thinks will help her most, he does the same thing with annorax in "year of hell." tom is the voice of ethical conscience and reason in that episode, and he organizes the rebellion—against chakotay's orders!

there's so much going on here:

season 4, "year of hell part 2"

despite his father's perceptions of him as a contrarian, chakotay only rebels as a last resort. he would genuinely rather not. he clearly talked about the maquis cause with ro and others before he left—and i bet that's why he resigned to a starfleet admiral in person, to make one last appeal. his preference is to try and change systems from within.

not to west wing about it, but chakotay is only The Guy when he has to be—he wants to be the guy the guy counts on.

(hot take: with how he rationalizes the calculated sacrifices annorax is making in "year of hell," i don't think chakotay would have left starfleet for the maquis if it wasn't personal. but it was personal, so here we are!)

maquis chakotay is a disillusioned idealist, but he's never that disillusioned. he believes in the stated ideals of the federation, sometimes more than janeway does.

season 3, "scorpion part 1"

and it's a fundamental character trait that he looks for the best in people and situations, often to his own detriment (tuvok, seska, annorax, that time janeway and tuvok and tom all lie to him for half a season, the list goes on).

and it's easy to see good in starfleet, especially when most of his career was during the height of federation utopia before "the best of both worlds," at which point starfleet remembered it's also a defensive force and started building the defiant—which was the very first starfleet ship ever designed solely for combat.

the cardassian situation in tng is shown as an aberration in a largely peaceful era. the off-screen "border wars" were fought by officers who expected to go their entire careers never firing a phaser.

tng season 4, "the wounded"

for decades since making peace with the klingons, and with the romulans keeping to themselves, starfleet has been mostly goodhearted nerds who are committed to exploring and making friends. even if chakotay was a tactical officer, that was the starfleet he signed up for and served.

and, in fact, the reason why the federation abandoned the colonists in the dmz in the first place and wouldn’t help bajor during the cardassian occupation is because the federation and starfleet are devoted to the ideals of peace and noninterference to a fault.

tng season 5, "ensign ro"

chakotay doesn't object to starfleet's actions, but its inaction.

which, side note, is why janeway's choice in "caretaker" makes it easy for him to rally behind her. by choosing to protect the ocampa, even though it's a huge sacrifice and puts her in a prime directive gray area, janeway specifically addressed the exact trust gap he has with starfleet.

season 1, "caretaker"

that's what he wanted them to do back home!

chakotay defends his starfleet uniform in the kazon scene that inspired this whole essay, and he believes what he's saying, because he's right: that's not what a starfleet uniform represents, either in theory or in practice. especially in the mid-24th century, regardless of the political issues, the federation and starfleet do not conquer planets or enslave alien cultures by force.

(of course, they wouldn't have helped the kazon free themselves either, but that's not the question on the table.)

to op's main question: it's an interesting (or boring?) doylist choice to make chakotay such a platonic ideal of a Starfleet Officer™️ (which, for the record, has always included going off-leash at the expense of one's career whenever ethics overwhelm regulations).

season 1, "prime factors"

star trek went to a lot of trouble to create the maquis for the voyager premise of two crews... and then quickly brady-bunch'd them into one happy family and let deep space nine wrangle the maquis problem instead. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

chakotay being so willing to put himself and his crew into starfleet uniforms (even though some members of both crews objected to it) cheated us out of some potentially rich drama, but it does hold water with what we see of him as a character on screen, and his relationship with starfleet. it has disappointed him, but he still believes that it's a force for good, and chakotay will always err on the side of seeing the good in something and thinking he can change it for the better from within.

--

tl;dr: chakotay is a starfleet officer by training and at heart, who was temporarily out of uniform because his family and tribe happened to be directly in the middle of starfleet's messiest ethical quagmire.

he made a personal, moral decision to join the maquis, not because he was anti-federation, but because that was the only way to protect federation civilians—which was part of his starfleet oath to begin with. he worked hard when he was younger to earn this uniform and i think, in spite of everything, he feels honestly proud to get to wear it again.

[a-new-romantic]

us (azriel x reader)

"Welcome back Az!" Rhysand cheered, clapping his brother on the back as the rest of the inner circle turned to smile at him and welcome him back.

Azriel blinked at all the sudden attention but took it gracefully - like a true Shadowsinger. He had been working for three months in the Day court on official Spymaster business.

"Thank you, Az." his brother said earnestly, his violet eyes piercing the shadowsinger and he smiled tight lipped and nodded. "The mission took longer than I had an anticipated for it to take, especially for someone with your expertise. Was anything holding you back, brother? Or was it just that difficult?" he probed, genuinely curious.

Azriel's eyes flashed in remembrance, for a split second, before returning to the soft gaze he kept for his family.

"I guess it was just that difficult..." he said, trailing off.

"Are you sure?" Feyre asked him, a calculating yet concealed gaze covering her face. He did nothing but nod and the High Lady nodded in return, satisfied.

For months thereafter, Azriel found that his dreams were taken over with memories of his time spent in the day court.

His time spent with you.

Flashes of concealed and hushed laughter in aisles of the library. Flashes of pure, unbridled joy at the sight of whipped cream on your nose. Flashes of the feeling of sand and the roar of the ocean. Flashes of stolen kisses, poetry sonnets, and hidden secrets. Flashes of everything good in the world surrounded you. He would have stayed with you forever, if he could have.

Then came the bad. Memories of having to leave you rose in his nightmares. The feeling of anger, despite neither of you doing anything wrong. The swirl of his shadows singing reassurance in his ears as he slept next to you that night. The taste of your salty tears streaming down your cheeks as you kissed him for the final time. The roar of air against his wings as he forced himself to fly back home.

The act of sleeping became a battle.

___

A year passes by, his dreams and nightmares of you ebbing away giving rise to blank sleeps. He's doing his best to move forward, and prays that you are doing the same.

"I WIN!" Cassian's voice cuts through his thoughts, pulling him to reality as he realizes he's been pinned to the ground by his brother.

"You wish," he muttered as he kneed his brother in the gut, using his surprise to his advantage as he pins Cassian down, winning.

"Oh whatever," Cassian grumbles as he pushes Az off, wiping dirt off his leathers as he grins at his brother.

"Again?" Azriel rolled his eyes, but got into a fighting stance regardless.

Suddenly, Rhysand's voice echoed through their heads, "Cassian, Azriel, come to the River House. We have a special guest."

Cassian furrowed his eyebrows.

"Any idea?" he asked Azriel. Azriel looked to his shadows for answers, but all they did was vibrate in excitement and swirled around him - seemingly to excited to speak.

"No clue," he said earnestly. Cassian's brows furrowed further, before clearing.

"I guess we'll find out, race you there?" he said, already taking flight. Azriel grinned and nodded, shooting up into the air with one powerful flap.

____

He landed on the balcony of the River House moments before Cassian, who slapped him upside the head when he landed.

"How did you beat me?" he muttered, before straightening his gaze towards Rhysand and Feyre who were inside, greeting their new guest. He peeks his head through the door - trying to sneakily see who this special guest was - , and his cover was immediately blown by the ever-observant Feyre.

"Oh yes, (Y/N). Meet Cassian, the general of the night court."

Azriel freezes.

(Y/N)?

His (Y/N)?

He heaves forward, the brunt of his memories piercing through him. Everything he's suppressed comes rushing back to him, and he's overtaken with emotion.

Without a second thought, he bursts through the doors - extremely unlike the sly and secret nature he kept.

"Azriel, are you okay?" someone asked him, worriedly. He didn't answer them, all his attention was on you.

You falter in your words, eyes darting towards him for a split second before returning to Cassian. Before he could mourn the loss of your gaze, you turn towards him again - pain and longing in your eyes.

"Azriel," you breathed out, eyes flashing with emotion as you took him in. He'd gotten prettier since you'd last seen him, even more breathtaking than before.

"Do you two know each other?" Rhysand asks, glancing between the two of you.

"Yes," you both said at the same time, unable to break gazes with one another.

"Well," Feyre started, and you snapped your head back to her - sense overtaking you as you remember where you were and what you were doing. "I'm sure Az can answer any questions you have,". He can't find it in himself to do anything but smile and nod.

"Well, I do have one question." you said, giving him a small smile. You stepped forward towards him, your scent of the ocean air taking over his senses.

"Do you miss us?"

[cursedpiratestash]

Begging for more iron fist your last hcs were exquisite 🙏😩

A Confession

Iron Fist (Lin Lie) x Reader

Tw: Suggestive comment

Word count: 2,209

a/n: Tysm! I ended up taking way longer to get around to writing this than I thought because I sort of wanted to write the reader as a hero of some kind and I really couldn’t make up my mind as to what. I settled on a hero with psionic based abilities and some expertise in hand to hand combat. I’m still really rusty :’)

     Energy collects in your palm before extending to your fingertips. It leaves behind a tingling sensation when you swipe at the foe barreling towards you. They convulse in your corresponding colors for just a moment and stagger as they try to shake off whatever you threw at them. Usually that move was enough to knock the wind out of someone, however this enemy was a mightier size. You’re mentally calculating how much more energy you need to put into your next hit when suddenly a shout of your name takes you away from the fight in front of you, “On your six! More incoming!” There are several heroes on the battlefield with you tonight; you can’t even begin to tell who the voice belonged to.

     You instantly ready your stance and hastily try to prepare an attack towards both directions as your original attacker begins picking up speed again. Sweat beads at your forehead as you grit your teeth at the heat crackling at your fingertips. Before you could release you notice a flash of green. Immediately recognizing it as an ally you twist your direction with a shout of your own and fire at the foe hardly a foot away from you now. With the amount of concentrate that hits them they are immediately paralyzed mid swing. You take the advantage and channel a little more energy to accompany your strength for a leg sweep that lands them onto their back. The thud that follows tells you that they won't be getting up for a while.

     “Cuttin’ it kind of close there-woah!” You attempt to call out when another enemy tries to dive into you from above. You curse under your breath as your power cascades around your form for some extra punch.

     Regardless of the interruption you still gain a response from Iron Fist, “You know I love to make a dramatic entrance.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. 

     You huff at that before raising your fists in preparation for a closer encounter. You may have dodged the previous attack, however, your fatigue leaves you unable to anticipate how quickly your enemy bounces back for the next onslaught. Raising your arms to block leaves your forearms vulnerable to the attack. The hiss it rips out of you forces you to make a mental note to tweak your hero suit later. Your attacker proves to be unrelenting as you feel yourself slowly closing into the wall behind you. When you fail to find a proper opening you settle for a burst of psionic energy for some pushback. It wasn’t as strong as it could be, but it gave you your opening. With as much as you could muster you land a right hook that sends them falling back. A series of grunts could be heard from both you and your allies as you fight off the last wave of enemies while the rest of your team completes the main objective.

     Once the dust begins to settle you wipe a bit of sweat off your brow. It’s not often that you take so many close fights during a mission. You take a moment to lean forward and rest your weight on your knees while you catch your breath. The psionic energy around you quickly dissipates without a second thought. If there are any stragglers you’re positive someone else will take care of it. When you hear the footsteps of a light jog drawing near you, you return to your full height.

     “Tired already?” Iron Fist teases upon his approach.

     “Pshh,” you continued with a badly disguised pant, “I could go another round or two. We should totally spare after this.” You heave.

     This earns you a deep chuckle from him. He could already imagine you falling face first into your bed as soon as you’re back to base. “I told you eating chips and sitting on the couch is not a proper warm-up.” He lectures playfully.

     “Yeah yeah.” You wave a dismissive hand at him before rolling your shoulders to achieve a much needed popping sound. You inspect your forearms for a moment to assess the damage. Nothing, a couple of bandages and some antiseptic couldn’t fix, really. Your suit probably took the worst of it as some of the tattered fabric hangs loosely by a thread. You wonder if maybe something armor padded would work for you. A soft hiss takes you out of your thoughts, “That looks like it hurts.” Iron Fist moves to caress your wounds, however, he pauses and takes into account how bloodied his fists have gotten from previous enemies, “Let's get that patched up. I think I saw Luna up ahead with Moon Knight.” 

     Just then a smug voice rings through the comms in your ear, “Alright we’re all done here. Head to base.” Once you recognize it to be Tony Stark’s voice, you respond upon reflex, “Roger.” Nothing else really required reporting as you mentally kept a head count of everybody on the way back.

     “We should still go find Luna.” Iron Fist insisted, although you simply pat his shoulder to ease some of his concern, “I’m fine, Liè, really. I’ll take care of it when we get to base.” You’ve dealt with far worse injuries; you weren’t quite sure what had him so worried. “Plus, I don’t really wanna bother her right now.” With a bit of smugness that could rival Tony’s, you point to Luna further up ahead of you trying to suppress a giggle as the new addition to the team, The Human Torch, tries his luck at flirting with her.

     Iron Fist only hums in thought before coming to a quick conclusion, “Come with me.”

     You only manage a quizzical, “Okay.” before being pulled into a nearby building that looked like it had seen some better days. When he holds your arms in his hands with such a soft touch, you can’t help but ask, “What’s going on with you?” 

     Instead of an answer you notice a vibrant green haze slowly fade into view. You peak at the concentration in his face and are enamored by the way the light dances across his features. Your eyes widen when you feel the sting of your injuries begin to subside. You were aware of his healing abilities, yet you were not familiar with the full extent of it. It felt nice. So nice, in fact, you don’t even notice when he’s finished until his eyes flutter open and he asks in a sheepish tone, “How’s that? Better?”

     “Oh uh…” you do a quick once-over and to your shock and amusement the injuries have completely disappeared. “Wow…” 

     “I’m no Adam, but I just thought this would be better than a couple of bandages.” He offers shyly.

     You only huff at that and place a hand on his cheek in return, “I feel great, Liè, thank you.” He instantly mirrors your smile and leans into your touch, placing a hand over yours.

     After a tender moment his confidence returns, “Care to join me in taking the long way home?” He proposes.

     “I’d love to.” You hummed.

     Wasting no time he takes your hand and guilds you out towards another side of the building. Unbeknownst to you, he had scoped out possible routes to take with decent scenery. He’d been doing that on most missions and praying the timing would be right. This time he planned on making sure nothing got in his way.

     You two spend a majority of the walk gossiping and joking around. You hardly notice how Iron Fist has yet to let go of your hand. Instead you focus on recovering from a laughing fit that manages to sneak up on you. You sigh with a lingering mirth as you take in the sights around you. It has you reminiscing on how the mission went today. Despite the way he jumped in front of your attack, he still managed to save you once again. If he hadn’t you weren’t sure you would have charged a big enough attack in time to stop the enemy from getting a dangerous swing on you. You begin to walk past fewer and fewer buildings. Before you know it nature is all you can see as you walk along a man-made path.

     “I meant to thank you earlier.” Your once playful tone turns into something a little more sincere. Iron Fist only turns to you to continue. “For helping me out during the fight. I probably would’ve had more to deal with than a few cuts if it weren’t for you.” Once you find yourselves standing on a fancy bridge, he absentmindedly lets your hand slip from his as you both rest your legs and lean against the railing.

     “Yeah, like an earful from Luna about taking on more than you can handle.” Liè chuckles softly.

     You laugh in agreement to that. “Well thank you anyways.”

     “Of course. Nothings happening to you while I’m around.” You can hear the pride in his voice as he leans closer to you for a little emphasis. Another laugh manages to slip past you at his rather corny response. “My hero.” you jested as you shove him lightheartedly.

     He laughs along with you, “Come on I mean it! You’re very special to me,” The way he says your name sends a shiver down your back. He was beginning to sound serious, “Since we started talking you’ve been special to me.”

     ‘Oh…’ You think to yourself. The way he pauses to remove his mask to properly gauge your reaction doesn't help to quell the sudden excitement you feel. Still, you manage to keep your composure, even as he continues by taking one of your hands in his once more, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

     It became evident to you that he needed a bit of a push, “Liè, what are you saying?” Was all you could think to offer him.

     “I like you,” He says your name in almost a pleading tone, “For so long I don’t even recall when my feelings for you began.” Heat dusts his cheeks with a faint rose color as he begins to simper. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly at your lack of response. The fact that you haven’t pulled away from him is what grounds him.

     “I’m not trying to push you into anything-” He’s quick to add.

     You profess, “I like you too.”

     “I’d hate for this to ruin-” Iron Fist rattles on.

     “Liè, I like you too.” You make an attempt to snap him out of his backpedalling.

     “Our friendship… You what?” His eyes widened by a fraction in disbelief.

     “I said I like you too.” You can’t help but chortle. Before you can even explain that your delay stemmed from shock you feel him pull you into a searing kiss that both surprised you and made you melt against him. One of your hands moves to caress the back of his head as the kiss deepens. Another hand rests against his bicep as he fails to stifle the soft moan that escapes him in his excitement. When you both pull back you share a loving gaze, “I’ve liked you for some time too. I just never expected you to return the feeling.” You sigh.

     “You’ve consumed my every waking thought for months. I don’t think there’s ever been a moment I didn’t feel this way about you-” Liè begins to recount.

     “Aww!” The sound freezes you both in place. It was unmistakably Luna Frost. Your eyes darted to the placement of your hand at the back of his head. In the heat of the moment you managed to trigger the communication link in his earpiece. Anyone with their earpiece still in had just heard your heated little display as well as your proclamations. Still frozen, another voice rings through your ear; this time it's deep and awkward, “Ahem, do try to keep this line clear, please.” Richard Reed groans. You could practically feel him through the comms pinching at the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

     You manage to collect yourselves and separate, however, Iron fist proceeds to sputter, “Yes, uh, copy that.” Before turning off his link with haste. Only after a brief pause do you start to snicker and return to his hold. It takes a moment, but he joins you despite the blush that heavily decorates his features. “That’s one way to get the news out.” He tittered.

     “Maybe the wedding invitation will just be a home video.” You bark out a laugh regardless of the choked reaction you gain from such a comment.

     “I think Johnny would probably appreciate that.” He has to rest a hand over his stomach as you’re both caught in another laughing fit. He was always fond of your odd sense of humor.

     As the laughter finally starts to die down you feel Liè gently pull you into a more chaste kiss. This time, when you pull away, your hands find purchase on either side of his neck. He takes the time to look at you with every ounce of adoration he can muster before sealing the moment with a forehead kiss. With that you journey the rest of the way home, hand in hand.

[l00kingatthem00n]

━━ SEE YOU AGAIN.

WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, descriptions of injuries, let me know if there's anything else that should be added.

In the wake of another exhaustive match, Guest 1337 is in your company as he needs your expertise in tending to wounds. To his misfortune, he forgets how utterly smitten he is with you.

HEAVY, UNEVEN BREATHS PRACTICALLY FORCE THEMSELVES FROM GUEST 1337’S LUNGS. Your mattress creaks and groans with every dip of his weight into the worn foam, desperately trying to be as inconvenient as he can when he knows the others need you as much as he does. Yet, he sharply grunts as he feels a rib crack and slip into somewhere it probably shouldn’t be. He hears your movements still from the room over before going again; Faster, snappier, this time. Guest 1337 doesn’t want to trouble you. There’s much better, more important wounds than what he endures. Shedletsky has numerous lacerations, Chance is suffering from the seared skin of his flintlock exploding, and it’s only a matter of moments before Two Time’s wings claw and tear itself into their shoulders once more. To his dismay, the others insist that he’s tended to first. Their worries are admittedly justified. It just makes him feel so guilty- He’s a soldier, or was a soldier, he can usually push through with such wounds. 

Though he doesn’t get any more time to pander to his thoughts, the door to the room slowly creaks open. What pokes through the crevice is a rusted lantern, fluorescent lighting dim against the oppressive darkness beyond the cabin windows. Then, he sees you. An apologetic smile curls across your lips as you shuffle inside. You rest the lantern atop of the bedside drawer, along with a battered medkit that’d been obscured by the door. You leave, again. Your footsteps are faint, almost muddled throughout the cabin as you go wherever. Though, that’s probably because of his injuries dulling his senses. But, you come in, again. This time dragging a decrepit chair behind you. You place the chair before him, not without undergoing the routine exchange for your makeshift check-up.

“Injuries?” 

“A couple of bruises, some lacerations and puncture wounds-” He gestures near his sternum “-A fractured rib, maybe another.”

You nod thoughtfully with your hands already going to work. It’s purely professional what happens between the two of you. You’re the most experienced with your studies in medicine. It’d only make sense that you’d be the one everybody went to when they needed medical assistance. The proximity between the two of you is necessary, solely meant for mending. Your hands on his chest is necessary. Your hands rolling his shirt up is necessary. Your visage so close to him is necessary. And so Guest 1337 doesn’t understand why his heart so violently drums against his fractured ribs, desperate to break already brittle bones or slip through the spaces to have you see their contents. He worries and wonders if you can hear that relentless beating in his chest. Maybe it's out of oblivion or maybe it's out of courtesy, but you don’t notice how he tenses before you. Regardless, you let out a soft sigh before you undo the latches of your medkit.

"I hope this doesn't hurt," you murmur hushedly. "Tell me if it does, okay?"

Worn bandages from prior moments come undone, lazily tossed to the ground as you bring a cloth to dab away at the blood that still seeps from his injuries. You’re tentative and modest; A pleasant warmth against his exposed chest. You’re merely further examining all the copious damages his body sustained from cuts to bruises. Sometimes, your touch stings. Sometimes, your touch hurts. But, he does not utter his grievances. Guest 1337 knows he should say something, but he doesn’t want to disrupt that almost untroubled expression upon your face. Truthfully, does something as trivial as his feelings matter with the predicament you’re all in? To be before you, to have you worry over him, is nothing short of absolute heaven in the hell that this is. Even as he feels conscious of being one of the first to take up your valued time, even as he should really tell you how crudely you’re sometimes handling him, nothing of the sort falls past his lips. Rather, he reassures you.

"There has been worse," he assures you. “I promise you, I'll be okay."

You’re tired. He is too. Despite the exhaustion that settles on your bones, the dullness in your gaze, you find it in yourself to smile. It’s a little wry, but not that he’s particularly complaining at seeing your contentment. Then, you chuckle, and even he, with his rigid expressions, falters beneath the sound as a faint smile curls across his lips. He doesn’t know what was so funny about his assurances. But, again, he wouldn’t pry about what has you seemingly so content. 

"Whatever you say, 1337," You hum before grabbing a fresh roll of bandages.

And as you beckon him to lean closer so you may bandage his chest, Guest 1337 thinks you look pretty enveloped in the glow of lantern light. You are pretty. The fluorescent glow illuminates every contour and curve of your face in a way that is serene. That stoic expression of yours, occasionally brimming with fear, isn’t here right now. Maybe, just maybe, he gets the briefest glimpse of who you would be if you weren’t damned like he was. Usually, there are little opportunities to simply bathe in the relative peace of this world. Every waking moment is torment. To linger in the recesses of your mind, letting anxiety strangle every thought. Or to let the tangible reality before you scare you into submission, letting strength be beaten down as you’re struck by horror. What happens between the two of you is nice; Calm and pleasant. Your company means so much to him, but it’s not like he has the courage to tell you such a sentimental subject when you’re preoccupied with survival and the possibility of escape. No, he doesn't dare let it slip past his lips, doesn't dare make it known on his expression, doesn't dare let it linger in his thoughts any longer despite its conception. 

He sharply breathes in to clear his thoughts. You glance at him worriedly, and with no words, he reassures you that it's nothing you did. Truthfully, he doubts it could ever be anything you did. But, he stills even further before you. Too nervous, too anxious to even say or do anything to alleviate the thick silence that befalls both of you in this decrepit cabin. That is not to say that he doesn’t enjoy this silent solace. It’s just you and him right now though, he’d like to listen to you but he just doesn’t want to mess this up- Whatever this is between the two of you. Good grief, since when has an old dog like him been so apprehensive? Matt would’ve been howling with laughter at his pathetic disposition, slapping him in the back as he would most definitely make fun of him. If he were to ever see this, anyway. 

You quietly huff. The sensations of your hands are absent from his chest and he finally reels to reality. He sees you agitatedly tuck a strand of hair behind your ears, probably gone askew should you have been tending to his fractured ribs. You go back to it again. Some time passes, he isn’t sure how much, but that strand of hair falls over your face again. It’s purely instinctive, the way his hand moves over to you, he doesn’t know what compelled him. Maybe he just wants to make this experience less tedious and less exhaustive than it can usually be. And so, his calloused hands gently graze your cheek, pushing the lock of hair behind your ear for you. You’re warm, pleasantly so. However-

"Ah!" You yelp, abruptly sitting upright in your chair as the bandages all come pooling around his waist. Your knuckles, that had been near his chest to finish wrapping another roll, accidentally dig into his ribs and he grunts sharply.

"Shit- I'm so sorry-” You sputter out with widened eyes. There’s a strange flush on your cheeks, but he assumes that’s from the surprise of his compulsions. 

“It’s fine,” he hastily adds, “Again, there’s been worse.” 

With trembling hands, you go through the movements again, only more hastily this time. An indiscernible look across your face as you finally finish wrapping the wounds around his torso. Guest 1337 purses his lips together and does not even think of moving, let alone breathing. You continue to care for what remains of his bodily damage. Unlike before, that pleasant silence feels almost oppressive. His gaze goes anywhere but you, more nervous than ever to see how you’d look at him now. He knows how the others are, constantly on edge and keeping each other at arm's length. Some have more malice towards one another, seeing how that affects not just them but everyone else, he hopes you aren’t feeling the same. It’d bring the others morale down, maybe offset this unease and tension between everyone when they’re all supposed to be working together. And more selfishly, he likes whatever you both have, he doesn’t want to ruin it because of one impulsive touch. 

Before he can even utter an apology, make amends for his lack of thinking, you lightly tap his shoulder. Guest 1337 blinks; Once, then twice. He inquisitively tilts his head a little to meet your, still, indistinct expression. It’s only as you push yourself up from your chair, shutting your medkit again does he realize that his visit with you is over. You’re quiet; Beyond quiet. By now, both of you would meaninglessly chatter about whatever the both of you desired. He knows you’d lazily drape yourself across the chair as he listened to you on the bed. But, you don’t say anything. It’s probably because you have much better things to attend to, like the rest who are still suffering in the other cabin. But, he can’t help but think he’s really overstepped. Cautiously, Guest 1337 rolls that weathered shirt of his over his chest. He hobbles off the edge of your bed and almost tiptoes around your presence. 

He sharply exhales through his nose. He’ll make sure to apologize to you then, another time when you aren’t so tense and agitated with him. He doesn’t want to ruin this, doesn’t want to lose-

Your voice softly cuts through his frantic thoughts. 

“You should come see me more, 1337,” you tell him with your gentle gaze towards him. 

He pauses mid-way through the doorway, swallowing thickly, “...If that’s what you’d wish, then sure.” 

“I don’t only want to see you because you need me to patch you up, so that’s what I wish,” you affirm.

“You’ll see me again, won’t you? I like having you around me, after all.”

And as you pour the contents of your heart to him, he doesn’t miss the way that the lantern illuminates that rose-like colour on your cheeks, nor does he miss how you glance at his hands. A smile curls across his lips, softening his hardened features. All his thoughts of your possible discontent with him seemingly melt away with how you kindly look at him. And he knows now that there was nothing to be worried about. 

“Okay,” he tells you.

 “I’ll see you again.”

AUTHOR'S NOTES: wow! i cant believe whawt was supposed to be a drabble ended up being more than 1800 words 😭talk about overshooting!!! HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! dont ask me about the medical innaccuracies, im here to write yearning not a medical textbook 💔💔💔

feel free to leave this note off here because i'd just like to ramble a bit hehe. okay so. IT WAS SO HARD TO WRITE FOR GUEST 1337. but i love him sm that i endured the constant wallopping i got from writing this piece.

i thought i characterized him pretty well, at least with his forsaken iteration. it's been a while since ive seen actual "the last guest" but i hope it holds a candle to both iterations. i knew i wanted to be able to make him like A Super Serious Soldier, who's a bit of a softie. with his weakness being his inability to really express himself through words. haha. get it because. he's a guest. haha yea [GUNFIRE]

ANYWAY!!! HI!!!! hope you're all are doing alright!!! because i am doing dandy as of now :]

[reevesdriver]

Over the Knee (NSFW)

Summary: John Dutton does not like being teased, much less by a woman half his age so when you disrespect him on his own land he has to take matters into his own hands, literally.

Requested by: @fdupdaydream 😏😏 (Sorry it took so long girl but thanks for your patience)

Word count: 1782

Character(s): John Dutton

Reader: Female reader

Warning(s): NSFW / 🔥🔥🔥 / Smut / Unprotected Sex / Daddy kink / Spanking / Brat reader / Outdoor sex /

Support me: Kofi

When Rip hired Teeter she had one condition, he had to hire you too. Much to his slight annoyance at hiring more ranch hands than he deemed necessary his judgement quickly changed when he saw you astride one of the wild horses John had asked him to tame some weeks ago.

"Told you she was good." Teeter said, a proud tone in her voice.

You hadn't expected to be given the job helping with taming the horses though you weren't exactly going to turn it down. You'd heard enough about the famous John Dutton to willingly accept spending months to years at his ranch regardless of your young age. Being in your mid twenties John was hesitant at allowing you to stay on his ranch but when Rip boasted about your performance with the wild horses John watched you with eager eyes.

"He's gonna kick you Jimmy." You said, watching the stallion buck. Within seconds the man was bent over in pain after the horses hoof collided with his stomach. "What did I just say." You throw your hands up in defeat.

"That'll teach you for tryna outsmart the horse tamer." Lloyd laughed before jumping over the fence to help Jimmy up. Meanwhile you'd already crossed the paddock and had a hold of the bridle trying to keep the horse still as Jimmy limped away.

As you pet the stallion along his neck John had made his way from his house down to the paddocks so he could find out what the shouting was. "Horse kicked Jimmy." Rip stated plainly when John approached him.

"Is he alright?"

"Think his pride is hurt more than anything." He replied and John laughed.

"I want to borrow her for a few hours if that's alright? Got some horses near the woods that Kayce thinks are worth taming, want to get her opinion on them."

"That's fine with me sir but you'll have to ask her." Rip replies then whistles in your direction. You were sat atop the saddle of the 'untameable horse', as Jimmy called him, and chatted to Teeter and Lloyd. When you look to Rip he motions you over with a wave and you quickly get the horse trotting to the other side of the paddock.

"Rip, Mr Dutton, how can I help?" You ask politely.

"Got a job for you." John says. "Need to borrow your expertise for a few hours."

"Sure thing, let me put this big guy back and I'll be all yours."

"Leave him, Jimmy can do it." Rip says stopping you. "Hey Jimmy, come put this horse away."

You laugh as Jimmys face drops when you dismount. Hopping over the fence you walk with John to his truck where he opens the passenger side door for you. "I don't need to grab anything from the bunkhouse do I?" You ask and climb up into the raised truck.

"No, we'll be there and back in a few hours, not unless there's anything you want to bring?"

"Nope, got everything I need." You reply and buckle your seatbelt when John closes the door, rounds the truck, and climbs into the drivers side. The drive down the main road from the Ranch was quiet for a few minutes until John spoke up. "You like working at the ranch?" He asks, tilting his head to you.

"I'm not really gonna say no when I'm in a car with the boss am I?" You laugh and he smiles.

"You can be honest with me darlin."

"Ooo darlin'." You repeat in a mocking tone. "Careful John you'll have people talking."

"Doubt it, I'm old enough to be your daddy." He says making you smirk.

"Mhmm Daddy." You say barely above a whisper with a smirk on your face which doesn't go unnoticed by John. He may be an older man but he heard what you said.

The truck fell into silence as you looked out of the window at the passing fields and trees, the radio played a quiet country song that lulled into another. John pulled down a dirt road and slowed to a stop putting the hand break on and turning off the ignition. "We're here." He said in the usual gruff tone and you slid your seatbelt off before jumping down from the truck.

You walk by his side to a gated portion of land where a few horses are galloping around near a tent. They stop and eye you quizzically before returning to run with one another. "I take it this is why you wanted me?" You say putting two and two together.

"Yeah, Kayce thinks they might be worth training but I want your opinion on them before we waste any time catching them." He opens the gate as he replies and ushers you through before shutting it behind him. You carefully walk onto the land trying not to scare the mare and her foal that has broken away from the small herd.

As you approach the mare with an open palm John heads to the small camp and takes a seat next to the un-lit fire. The foal walks up to you, it must be at least a month or two old and even though it hasn't had any human interaction, that you know of a least, it willingly walks past its mother and straight to you. You watch the mare with a nervous gaze incase she decides to charge as you pet her foal though after a minute or so she seems to be comfortable with your presence and approaches you too.

"That's a good girl." You say moving from petting the foal to its mother. You quickly look her over taking note of a few scratches on her legs that are poking out under the dirt and debris that had gathered from running in the fields and forests. She's toned but a little slimmer than normal and from the brief interaction she seems like a fairly easy horse to tame.

You stop petting her so you can join John at the camp. She turns with her foal and trots off down the field. "What do you think of her?" John asks as you approach the, now-lit, fire. You sit down in the little camping chair that's opposite. "I'd say she's worth taming, she looks strong but she needs fattening up a little more, same with that foal too."

"I'll let Kayce know when we get back, no reception out here. You want a drink?" He says motioning to the bottle oh Whiskey in his hand. You nodded and stood up, rounded the fire and joined him on the laid-out blanket that he was sat on. "Hold on, are you even old enough to drink?"

You laugh. "Yes I'm old enough now hand it over old man."

You reach for the bottle but he pulls it just out of range. "Enough with the old man, say it again and I'll have to take you over my knee." His voice is low and laced with a tinge of anger.

"Don't threaten me with a good time Mr Dutton." You say testing the waters. John was a very handsome man, everyone could see that and eve though he was double your age, if not more you were still heavily attracted to him. The way his large hands flexed against the reigns, how his presence alone changed the atmosphere in a room and his voice, that damn deep voice that massaged your ear drums every time he spoke drove you mad. "I doubt you'd be able to teach me a lesson, I am quite the handful...old man." You speak the last two words barely above a whisper.

You see the fire ignite in Johns eyes, dropping the bottle of Whiskey he grabs your wrist and pulls you across his lap. Lifting a leg from under you he rests his thigh against your lower back keeping you pinned down with your ass in the air. Before you can protest John raises his hand and slaps his heavy palm against your clothed asscheek. The denim offered no cushioning whatsoever as his hand collided with your backside three more times until John paused.

A moan had slipped from your lips when his hand connected with the curve of your ass for the fourth time. "You getting off on this?" He asks but doesn't need you to reply, he already knows the answer from the way you're squirming under his thigh, trying to grind your pussy over his knee in an attempt to cum.

In one switch motion John moves so he is behind you. He's about to speak out a command until he sees your hands move underneath you. You undo your belt and unbutton your jeans and John takes it from there. He pulls the clothes past your ass and down your thighs until they rest at the backs of your knees then he quickly works to undo his own jeans. As he fumbles with the buckle of his belt he looks around making sure that no-one is nearby and frees his hard cock.

Giving it a few tugs for good measure John lines himself up with your pussy and starts to slowly push in, relishing the way your cum coats his head and lubricates the shaft as he pushes deep inside until fully sheathed. "Fuck John, so good." You mumble. It had been months since you'd last got your leg over someone. Things had gotten a little hot and heavy in the bunkhouse with Ryan but that was quickly shut down when Lloyd and Rip entered drunk one night and you had to do a quick shuffle of shame to your own bunk.

But right now in this moment it didn't matter if you had fucked someone an hour prior, the way Johns cock filled your cunt was something that you'd never felt before. Your pussy felt like it was made just for him, it fit perfectly around his shaft as he pounded you into the blanket, his palm connecting with your bare ass every few seconds as he aimed to make both cheeks dark red.

Your walls squeeze around his cock as you cum. "That's it baby, cum for daddy." His voice is low but commanding as your thighs shake. After a few more thrusts John is pumping his seed deep inside of you, his thumbs dig into the deep red marks on your cheeks.

Coming down from your high you try to raise up from the blanket. "Fuck." You say in a whimpered tone. "I won't ever call you old man again." You rub at your ass cheeks and John laughs.

"At least you've learnt your lesson darlin'."

[hannahbarberra162]

Uncomfortably Numb (Yan! Law x Reader) Two shot (1/3)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The other parts

This was supposed to be a drabble. A DRABBLE! I got a lot of Yan Law asks, so I hope this feeds you Law girlies. I'm planning on finishing this week, not going to be a long time in between updates.

TW: teeth and dentistry but no procedures described in detail.

Thank you to @gouraminnow, @tryingandfailingtowrite, and @sordidmusings for all your help and ideas <3

~

You're the Grand Line's best dentist with a specialty in humans with fishman genetics. You work with the use of your Numb Numb fruit, which makes it easy for you to anesthetize patients and help them feel less pain. Dr. Trafalgar seeks you out to help with one of his crew mates but might want to keep you for himself...

~

Getting on the Polar Tang had been easy - but getting off was proving to be impossible. After listening at the door for a few minutes to make sure the entire crew had disembarked, you used your right hand to twist the handle to Law’s cabin while using your chin to push in the mechanism that unlocked the door. Once it had been easy to open the door and exit the room but since Law had taken your left hand you hadn’t been able to come and go since his door handle required two hands to operate. You'd been practicing for weeks to open it with your teeth and chin and your persistence finally paid off with the soft click of the lock opening. The metal doorknob now bore your tooth marks in it but dulling your teeth was a price you were willing to pay for freedom.

You felt like your heart was beating in your throat - but that wasn’t possible since it was kept in Law’s office, along with your left hand. Regardless, you peered out the door as quietly as you could, looking down the long hallway towards the main hub of the Polar Tang. You'd been planning your escape for weeks and had everything timed down to the second - you had approximately 3 minutes and 14 seconds to get off the Tang before Law noticed your absence and room’d you back into his chambers. You didn't have time for meandering thoughts as you crept down the hallway towards your freedom.

It wasn’t always like this with Law. When you first met him, he was reserved, calm and charming in his own introverted manner. He’d actually sought you out, coming to the island you’d been working at for a few months. You were a dentist by trade and you specialized in treating fishmen and humans with fishman lineage. Law had come to your makeshift dentistry office with his crew mate Shachi, who was having significant dental issues. Shachi was nearly doubled over in pain when Law and Penguin had brought him to your clinic. 

“Do you have space in your schedule for another patient, Dentist-ya?” Law intoned in his deep voice. You knew who Law was, of course, he was one of the most famous pirates on the seas. You'd also heard about his excellence in his medical endeavors and were curious about his knowledge coupled with the use of his abilities. “My brother Shachi is experiencing immense tooth pain and I am seeking your expertise,” Law continued, flicking his eyes around the rented room.

“Yes, I happen to have time right now,” you said, looking over the poor man as he cradled his jaw. You’d just finished a three year old’s first dental visit and were looking over the chart you’d made. Setting down the papers on a desk, you beckoned to the men.  “Come along to the back, Mr. Shachi, let’s take a look at cha,” you said with practiced nonchalance. Inside you were already mentally preparing for a lot of work - based on looks, Shachi was an apex predator fishman / human and that always made for trouble tooth-wise.

Fishmen had standard enough dental needs for cleanings and the like. Sometimes you had to pry out teeth that wouldn’t fall out, or help with general hygiene but overall it was fairly simple. On the other hand, humans with fishman lineage often ran into dental troubles as the genetics weren’t always stable. Sometimes they’d have teeth that were too crowded for a human jaw, or teeth that were so sharp they hurt the owner, or never developed certain teeth at all. It was a real grab bag of genetic material and you were sympathetic to those who drew the short end of the proverbial straw. You led the three men to the back room with the dentist chair as the one with a penguin on his hat helped Shachi recline. You’d rented the office for a few months in exchange for numbing the owner’s bad knees at night, a pretty good deal for you. You rolled towards the patient on a small stool, holding a pair of rubber gloves in your hands but not putting them on.

“I’m guessing you’re in a lot of pain, then?” you asked sympathetically. The red haired man nodded, his hand still cradling his face. 

“Let’s get you numb first then I can take a look. How does that sound?” you asked, reaching for his face.

“You’re not going to anesthetize him without gloves, I presume. And you have no syringe,” an unamused Law stated from where he was leaning against a window. You smiled easily, Law wasn’t the first doctor to question your methods.

“Yes, actually I am going to use my hands. I ate the numb numb fruit so if I touch his face I’ll be able to numb the pain,” you explained. “It won’t work if I put on the gloves but I assure you I adhere to the highest standards of medical sterility.” Law looked you over curiously before stalking over to you.

“Numb my wrist first,” he ordered, sticking out his hand towards your surprised face. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t make any other movements.

“Why? Does it hurt?” you asked, looking over the tattooed hand before your eyes. 

“No. I want to ensure that this works before any of my crew are subjected to treatment,” he said. It wasn’t the most unreasonable request you’d ever gotten, and it was nice to see a Captain who was protective over his crew. The word DEATH was spelled out before your eyes but it was at odds with the care he was showing for his crew mate.

“Sure. Come here,” you requested. Law moved to stand over you, his golden eyes hawk-like as you gripped his wrist loosely in your right hand and used the fingers of your left hand to make a movement like you were injecting a syringe into his wrist. After using your fruit, you held his wrist in your hand as you waited for his reaction. Law poked and prodded at himself, even bashing it against the wall, which made you jump.

“Completely numb. How many layers into the fascia does the anesthesia go? And how long will it remain this way?” he asked as he picked up his arm from your hold and rolled his hand, poking along his skin.

“It’s local, but I could slice your hand off and you wouldn’t feel a thing. It will stay that way until I reverse it. If you’re satisfied, I’d really like to help your brother,” you said, holding out your right hand. Law hummed and put his hand in your own as you repeated the same injection movement with your right hand to reverse the sensation. 

“Very useful. Are you able to produce regional and general as well?” he asked, touching his tattooed skin once more. 

“I am, but I’d really like to focus on your brother right now,” you replied, turning your stool to begin working on the redhead in front of you. “I’m going to numb your mouth now. It will feel strange but the pain should be gone immediately. Are you ready?” you asked, bringing your left hand close to Shachi’s face. He nodded, his eyebrows knotted in pain as he kept himself still. You cradled his jaw in your left hand and used the power of your fruit on him, his jaw and mouth relaxing as you alleviated his pain. You let you and he let out a great sigh of relief, his head rolling back on his shoulders.

“Aahs gheat,” he said, finally relaxed in the chair. You gave him a bright smile and snapped on your rubber gloves. Grabbing a few tools, you had him open his mouth and began to examine the pirate using your mirror and explorer to poke around the patient’s mouth.

“Hm, what percent Orca fishman are you roughly?” you asked, lowering your mask from over your face. The orange haired man was wearing reflective sunglasses but his head moved to look at Law before he answered. 

“Ah naht -” Shachi started to protest. You put your hand on top of his own.

“It’s ok, I’m part fishman too. You can’t really tell by looking at me, but I had significant dental issues from my fishman teeth and webbed feet to boot. I’m going to treat you, humans with fishman heritage are my specialty. The more information I have, the better I can assess your needs. Orcas have unique dental features that aren’t like other apex fishman species,” you explained, keeping your hand on his. His head turned back towards you before his body sagged.

“Aah dun kno,” he replied, something sad in his tone. It wasn’t uncommon for humans with fishman blood to be unsure of their heritage since human/ fishman relationships were so taboo in society. You sympathized with him, since you were raised by your now deceased father and alone in the world. You were perhaps the sole fishman who chose to eat a devil fruit but the benefits outweighed the cons, since you didn’t have gills or anything to show for your fishman side besides a messed up mouth that you’d already fixed and feet that didn't help you swim.

In addition to your knowledge of fishman anatomy, you had eaten the numb-numb fruit which made you able to anesthetize any part of someone’s body at any intensity for any duration. It was a highly convenient fruit for a dentist and it ensured your patients never felt anything during your work. If you were touching the patient, you could put them completely under sedation, which was useful for small children or nervous patients. You had a great reputation as the Grand Line’s top dentist and you were proud of the life you’d made for yourself.

“Don’t worry. I’ll figure things out and get you sorted,” you replied lightly, patting his hand. You raised your mask over your face again and began working poking around in his open mouth. Orcas weren’t like sharks or other fish that lost their teeth frequently - they had one set of adult teeth, similar to humans. Their conical teeth were made for grabbing and holding slippery prey and tear apart flesh - not chew like humans did. Inspecting Shachi’s mouth showed overcrowding common to humans with fishman genes, worn down teeth, and a cracked tooth. Setting down your tools, you pulled down your mask.

“You don’t have to take off your mask to speak, Dentist-ya,” Law said, still in the room.

“I don’t have to, but I like to,” you replied primly, your mask around your chin. “I like seeing people’s full faces when I speak with them, so I assume the same is true in reverse. It’s good bedside manner.” Giving him a curt nod, you turned to address Shachi. “You have a cracked tooth which is likely why you’re in so much pain. I could extract it but given your orca background I’d rather repair it. Were you chewing on metal?” you asked, trying to be as non judgemental as possible. Shachi flushed, confirming your suspicions.

“It’s not great for anyone to chew on metal, but especially for you with your teeth. You do it when you’re stressed, right?” you asked lightly with a tilt of your head. Shachi gave a guilty nod, looking away from both you and his captain. Shachi wasn’t your first orca fishman, chewing on hard materials was a common stress relief amongst the patients you’d seen. 

“It’s alright, you’re not the first and you won’t be the last. I’ve seen it a lot in orca fishmen. Are you in a small space for an extended period of time? Maybe like an office or below deck or something?” you asked.

“Haa Pohaa Ta -” Shachi tried to speak but was cut off by his Captain, whose mouth was not incapacitated.

“The Polar Tang is a submersible vessel, we are under water for extended periods of time,” Law explained. 

“That would do it. You feel the intense urge for freedom, right? To have an expanse available to you for swimming? Tooth grinding and chewing on metal or concrete is seen in orca fishmen and generally in fishmen in captivity. To fix your current issue, you’ll need a root canal, which takes at least an hour. I do happen to have some time available today if you’d like,” you explained. You were about done with your work on the island, all the villagers had gotten their teeth worked on already so your schedule had cleared up. In a few days you’d pack up and set sail for another island, generally steering closer to Fishman Island to compile more data for your research. 

“He’ll take the appointment as soon as possible, Dentist-ya,” Law said with finality. “It’s been bothering him for months, it needs to be fixed.” You nodded and stood up from the little stool. 

“That’s rough, sorry to hear that Shachi. Give me a few moments to get everything set up and we’ll get started,” you said, patting him on the shoulder. Law followed you as you went to an adjoining room where the autoclave was to get your tools. A shiver went down your spine as you realized you were effectively alone with one of the most dangerous men on the Grand Lane. He hadn’t done anything remotely unprofessional but he didn’t carry his giant sword for fun, either. Your hands shook slightly as you gathered everything you’d need for the surgery, including the tools you’d made yourself for fishman dentistry.

“Is everything alright, Dr. Trafalgar?” you asked, using his name for the first time.

“Quite. You’re proficient, Dentist-ya. Are you truly part fishman?” he asked, still watching you. You swallowed thickly, disliking that he was watching you prepare.

“I am. Not much, maybe a grandparent was a partial fishman. But that’s why I became a dentist - I had dental issues from my fishman teeth and no one would help me. I had to do my own dental surgery to fix my mouth,” you replied with a shrug. Law didn’t reply.

“I’ll assist on Shachi’s surgery if you’d like,” Law informed you as you placed everything on a tray.

“That’s not necessary, Dr. Trafalgar. I’ve done this procedure many times -” you huffed, annoyed he thought you weren’t able to perform the procedure on your own.

“I’m not doubting your expertise, I am offering my help because it is easier with two people. I seldom operate without Bepo, it makes operations smoother and more efficient,” Law explained calmly. Your eyes went wide when you thought about Bepo, the cutest pirate on the Grand Line, who you daydreamed about hugging.

“Does that mean Bepo is here?” you tried to ask casually, lifting your shoulder like you didn’t care either way. Law gave a light laugh, the first time he’d broken from his serious attitude.

“Bepo is on the island, yes,” Law said with a small smile raising the corners of his mouth. “I’m the Captain yet he’s the one everyone always wants to meet,” Law continued, taking the tray from your hands. “I’m familiar with most of these tools, but not all.”

“I invented some of them for fishman specific dental needs,” you explained, picking up a special kind of forceps you’d created for conical teeth like Shachi’s. “If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you perform the surgery? Based on your reputation you’re the most knowledgeable surgeon alive,” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“I suppose I could have but I don’t feel as confident in oral surgery, especially in someone with fishman genetics. Also, frankly, mouths are gross,” Law said, making you laugh.

“Aren’t you the pirate who keeps hearts in cubes or something like that? And mouths are gross?” you asked, laughing again. Law smiled as the two of you returned to the room where Shachi was watching the interaction with interest. “That’s alright, I’m not offended. If you’d really like to assist, I won’t stop you. Gloves and masks are over there, we’re going to get started as soon as possible,” you said, adjusting the dental light over Shachi. 

About an hour later the surgery was completed and Shachi was now the proud owner of a fixed orca tooth. Law had been an excellent assistant, anticipating your needs and preparing tools before you asked for them. Unlike other physicians you’d met, he wasn’t cocky or condescending, he treated you like a medical professional in your own right. You’d talked through what you were doing, both for Shachi’s edification as well as Law’s own. He seemed to enjoy when you spoke about the process, or the specific difficulties related to fishman human genetic combinations. He told you a little bit about the crew and the ship, though not much related to him personally. 

Law was surprisingly pleasant company and the two of you engaged in light banter throughout the procedure, mostly about the pirates and their travels. You had always wanted to go in a submarine and see the deep underwater world. You weren’t fishman enough to have gills or to webbed hands, but there was something in you that pulled you to the water and made you want to spend your time in it. You supposed that was why you became a wandering dentist, so you could spend some time on the sea while also fulfilling your passion even if you could never swim again.

“That’s it, Shachi! You’re all set,” you said, unclipping the paper towel from in front of his boiler suit. “You might be a little sensitive to cold or hot for a few weeks but I’ll give you a light numbing that should last a day or two so you’re not in pain. Don’t eat hard food and don’t chew on metal ,” you said, looking him in the eye. You used your right hand to remove most of the anesthesia, leaving a lingering local anesthetic that would help him avoid the pain of the dental surgery.

“Thank you, Dentist-ya,” Law said, helping his brother off the dental chair.

“Yeah, really. Thank you so much, I haven’t felt this good in months,” Shachi said with a short bow. “Captain will pay,” he said after looking at Law with a wide, sharp grin. He quickly left while whistling a tune and poking at his teeth with his fingers. Law huffed and rolled his eyes but reached for a wallet in his pocket. You felt a little awkward cleaning up after the surgery with Law present but it had been a rather fun time, for a dental surgery. 

“I’d like to offer you something else in addition to the money,” Law said, handing you a small stack of beri. 

“Oh? Maybe a trip on the Polar Tang?” you joked, putting the bills into your pocket.

“That you can have at your leisure. No, I was wondering if you’d go out to dinner with me,” Law asked, adjusting the brim of his white hat. You were a little surprised but frankly flattered. It was no secret that Law was one of the most dangerous men on the seas - as well as one of the most handsome. You’d slept with a few pirates in your time on the seas and didn’t see the harm in adding another notch to your bedpost.

“Sure, but can I get changed out of my scrubs?” you asked with a laugh, throwing away the paper towels and your gloves as well.

~

A few hours later and you were sitting opposite Law in a nice restaurant, sipping on a glass of wine. Law was surprisingly good conversation, even if he still wasn’t sharing many personal details about himself. It didn’t offend you, you weren’t pouring your life story out to him either. This was going to be a date (and maybe more) before you parted ways, maybe to never see each other again. You took another sip as you listened to his stories about the Heart Pirates and their adventures on the seas, laughing as he told you about Shachi and Penguin tricking him into rooming himself into the women’s quarters. You’d told him about your research and your devil fruit ability and enjoyed a pleasant back and forth about your various medical interests. 

“Your crew sounds lovely. It really is quite an interesting idea to have a submarine instead of a regular ship. I’ve always wanted to go on one but the rates are so high,” you said with a wistful sigh. 

“My offer earlier wasn’t facetious, you’re welcome aboard the Tang,” Law offered with a cocky smile. He was heart stopping even when he scowled, all tattoos, brooding mystery and golden jewelry. But when he smiled? You were cooked, you wanted to lean over the small table and kiss him right there.

“I don’t know, I’m leaving in a few days anyway. I have to start packing and securing a charter to another island,” you said, rubbing your forehead. Moving islands was annoying and expensive but it was time to move along the Grand Line.

“We’re leaving after we restock. Why don’t you come aboard with us, just until the next island? I’d love to pick your brain further about anesthesia and dentistry, and we do happen to have other hybrid fishmen on the ship. I can promise you safe voyage,” Law said, sipping his own whiskey. You were considering the offer but something in your gut wasn't quite settled. Still, you would at least be safe on the seas from other pirates given the strength of Law and his crew. 

“I’m not sure, I’ve never sailed with pirates before,” you said, turning your wine glass by the stem. Sailing anywhere was a gamble but when you sailed with merchants you had reason to think they’d want you to get to your destination in one piece since you paid when you arrived at your location.

“Bepo is the first mate and navigator,” Law specified with a grin. “His ears are even fluffier than they look in pictures,” he continued with a nonchalant shrug.

“It’s not fair to use Bepo as a bargaining chip!” you whined with a smile on your face.

“Pirates don’t play fair,” Law rebutted, taking another sip and giving you a smirk. 

“I’ll think about it,” you said, finishing your glass of wine while thinking about Bepo’s ears. 

~

You had a pleasant date with Law that ended with a small kiss at the end of the night. You wanted more but weren’t going to pursue someone who wasn’t that into you. Law seemed to enjoy your conversation and company but wasn’t physically affectionate. You weren’t going to beg for physical affection and it might be better besides since you were thinking of going with them. After a day or so of back and forth conversation with Law, you decided to travel with the Heart Pirates on the Polar Tang.  Law had introduced you to the rest of the crew and you were pleased to see a few more human / fishman hybrids alongside Shachi. On the morning of departure, Jean-Barte was bringing your belongings onto the ship while Law gave you a tour of the facilities. You could see why he made a good captain and why his crew was so loyal - he was steadfast, smart, clever, and had a natural penchant for leadership. 

“Here is the operating theater, you can keep your medical supplies here as well if you wish,” Law said, pointing out a medically equipped room. “We didn’t have to buy as many anesthetics as we usually do now that you’re on board, it’s quite convenient,” Law said with a hum.

“Well, I’m only on the Tang for a short time so you’ll eventually need them again, but I’m happy to provide that service for now,” you hedged. Law smiled at you despite the intense stare he was giving you. 

“Of course, Dentist-ya. Come along, I’ll show you the rest of the Tang,” he said easily. 

A few hours later and you were glued to the sub’s windows as it descended deeper and deeper into the ocean. You’d never seen aquatic life so up close and you were practically vibrating with excitement as you watched fish swim past the windows. You jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Law said, standing behind you, his hand still on your shoulder. His body was right behind yours, you could feel his body heat radiating from his bare chest. Law had a faint scent of lavender and mint that was tantalizing your nose as he stood behind you. There was no doubt that Law was a handsome man and your body wanted his desperately. Still, you had pride and you weren’t going to be the one to make the first move. If Law wanted you, he was going to have to work for it.

“It really is. Thank you for allowing me on your ship, Dr. Trafalgar. Or, should I call you Captain now?” you teased, turning around to face him. You were so near that either one of you could close the distance and kiss the other but you made no such movements. 

“Law is fine,” he replied, raising his arm to rest on the window over your head, leaning down over you. 

“Law it is, then,” you said, raising an eyebrow as if to dare him to make the first move. You should have known that someone with enough mettle to become a Warlord of the Sea would take what he wanted, you thought as Law’s lips captured your own. His muscled arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards his bare chest as he pressed kiss after fevered kiss into your lips. Your hand came up to rest on his pec while the other grabbed at his bicep as he deepened the kiss, his hand wrapping itself in your hair to angle your head to his desire. Law’s tongue brushed against your own as you moaned, reaching a hand into his wavy black hair to pull him closer. You hadn’t been with anyone in a while, maybe since three or four islands back, so even Law’s slightest touch had you excited.

Law pressed you further against the window of the submarine as the light of the sun dimmed while the ship submerged lower into the ocean but you didn’t notice in the slightest. When Law gave you his attention, it was all consuming, you could think of nothing but him. All too soon for your liking, he broke apart from you and rubbed the pad of his thumb against your lower lip. 

“Welcome aboard, Dentist-ya,” he said with a smirk, walking away from you. What the hell was that?

~

Your first trip aboard the Polar Tang was filled with merrymaking, work, and adventure. You were put with Ikakku and Clione in the women’s quarters, the other two pirates pleasant company to chat with before you fell asleep at night. The sub continued to sail underwater and you spent the time you weren’t working watching the sea in front of you. Something intangible within you made you want to reach out and swim in the deep, even if your devil fruit made that not possible.

At dinner on the first night you quickly introduced yourself to Bepo, who wrapped you in a large hug as you mentally ticked a box off your bucket list. He was softer and fluffier than you could have imagined as you rubbed your face into his exposed chest. You would have been embarrassed but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. 

“I’m so happy to meet you, Bepo! I always see your posters and - well, you’re my favorite pirate!” you said, smiling brightly up at him. The rest of the crew picked up their heads and grumbled, but no one seemed surprised. Bepo returned your smile with a toothy one of his own, his gleaming white teeth making your fingers itch with the desire to check them out. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you too! Captain has been searching for you for years -”

“Bepo,” Law said with a small warning in his tone as he sipped a cup of black coffee and read a newspaper. Bepo was undeterred and continued to babble at you.

“Because he says you’re the best and he only wants his crew to work with the best. It’s a relief to finally have you on board so we can stop collecting intel on you -”

“Bepo,” Law called out again.

“Now that you’ve joined -”

“Bepo.” Law’s voice had lost the chiding tone it had before and was now a Captain’s order. Bepo pouted, his eyes going wide.

“Sorry, Captain. I was just gonna say that she joined us for this trip,” Bepo said with a frown, his lower lip wobbling. Law sighed but returned to reading the newspaper and drinking his coffee. Bepo gave you another small smile as an apology.

“Bepo, if you’d ever like me to look at your teeth, I’d be happy to. I’d have to do some research on polar bear mink teeth but it would be a privilege to work on you. I’ve never had the opportunity to work on a mink before,” you said, putting your hand in his to try and sneakily feel his paw pads. 

“I’d love that! I don’t think I’ve ever been to a real dentist before, Captain has looked every so often but he thinks -”

“Mouths are gross,” you finished with a small laugh. One by one the rest of the crew introduced themselves and you saw the deep, loving dynamic between them. Shachi introduced you to his brother, Penguin, who was clearly also part fishman. You met Hakugan and Ikkaku, the other two women on board, as well as Jean Barte, Uni and Clione. Everyone was friendly and asked you question after question about your life and your work until the meal concluded.

“Penguin, thank you for dinner, I can’t eat another bite,” you said, pushing back the now empty bowl of stew. He smiled with a closed mouth, his eyes obscured by the cap with a penguin on top. Penguin was one of the quieter of the bunch, not getting as rowdy as Shachi or as up in arms as Ikkaku when they were playfully arguing.

“I was hoping that you’d take a look at my teeth in exchange for my North Blue stew. Or pay you with beri, I’ve saved a lot,” he asked in a quiet voice. “Not right now of course, when you’re rested and have time,” he hedged. You noticed he had a practiced way of keeping his teeth obscured when he spoke, nothing you hadn’t seen before in people with fishman genes.

“I’m not all that tired, being underwater is kind of messing with my internal clock anyway. And your Captain isn’t charging me fare to the next island so I won’t charge for dental services,” you said easily, standing with your plate in your hand to take it back to the kitchens. Law really was saving you a ton of money, checking out the teeth of the crew was easy for you to do in exchange.

“Oh, leave that here. Captain will shambles everything when we’re all done,” Penguin said, rising up himself. Intrigued, you put the bowl back down and looked around the room for Law. You’d seen Law use his medical knowledge but hadn’t seen him using his devil fruit power at all yet. You were curious about how it worked and wanted to see it first hand but didn’t feel comfortable walking up and asking him to use it. You didn’t mind when people did the same to you but yours wasn’t as dramatic and interesting as Law’s was. 

You followed Penguin to the operating theater, noting how the chef was adjusting his hat over and over and biting his lips. There wasn’t a dental specific chair in the theater but there was a patient table that could be brought to an upright position. The theater wasn’t anything unique - it had racks of supplies for procedures, reference books, shelves of medications, and other supplies for the minor bumps and aches of the day. Penguin perched on the edge of the chair, adjusting his hat yet again. You saw a box of latex gloves on the table and slipped a pair on. Law’s hands were larger than your own - the gloves were a little saggy on your hands but nothing you couldn’t work with. Making a mental note to ask Law for some gloves in your size, you sat on the stool and scooted closer to Penguin. 

“Would you mind closing the door?” Penguin asked, stiff as he sat back against the chair. You walked to close the door before returning to your patient. He opened his mouth only an inch but you saw enough to know what you were dealing with. Penguin was gripping the handrails tightly with his fingernails ripping into the cushioned pads.

“You don’t need to be nervous, I’ve treated sheepshead fishmen before,” you said with ease, reaching for your explorer. Penguin sagged in the chair like a deflated balloon.

“How’d you know?” he asked, opening his mouth for you just a little further.

“The evenly spaced rows of human like teeth. They’re great for fishmen but there’s not enough room in a human mouth for all of them. I can remove the second row and you should be set but as a warning, some of them may grow back in a few months. They can continually be removed and it should allow you to have more room in your mouth,” you explained while poking and prodding at his teeth. Penguin had rows of human teeth like a normal mouth but  behind it there was another full row of teeth going all the way back towards his molars. It would be like having two sets of teeth in the same mouth set side by side. You didn’t know how he’d dealt with the immense overcrowding for so long.

“You’ve done a fantastic job maintaining your teeth, by the way. Excellent flossing, I can tell,” you said, maintaining a one sided conversation. Penguin couldn’t answer but you didn’t think he would anyway, he probably had a lifetime of shyness to overcome. “You have a lot of scarring, did you already have dental surgery? I’m not sure it was effective, but it looks like it was extensive and painful. By the way, it was a good call to choose Penguin as a nickname over sheepshead. Sheepsheads can be black and white too, right?” you said, poking around the man’s mouth. He grunted to show his agreement.

“Okay, we have a game plan. The procedure will take several hours worth of time, just so you’re aware. I think we should do it tomorrow, that way I’m fresh and so are you. Does that work?” you asked, taking off your gloves. You’d need several hours to take out all of Penguin’s extra teeth and ensure the open sockets didn’t get infected. It was more work than you anticipated, but you didn’t mind helping out a fellow fishman. Penguin nodded his agreement.

“I’ll have time after breakfast and I can ask Jean-Barte to make lunch. Will that be enough -” Penguin didn’t get to finish his sentence before Law appeared in the room, stalking towards you with a scowl.  You took a step back, your legs hitting the stool behind you as Penguin sat upright in the seat. The stool spun and hit the clinic chair as you inhaled sharply.

“What do you think you’re doing to my brother, Dentist-ya?” Law hissed, his palm already raised with fingers lifted. You wanted to see his power but not in a way that had you taking a one way dip into the ocean. Law’s stare didn’t leave your face as your mouth gaped open, unsure what to do or say.

“I’m fine, she’s gonna fix my mouth,” Penguin said softly, putting his hand on your forearm. “She knew what was going on, she’s seen these kinda teeth before,” Penguin explained while getting off the chair. Law huffed but didn’t put his hand down.

“Room. Shambles,” Law said, creating a small blue sphere in his hand as he adjusted the white cap on his head to cover his eyes, much like Penguin. Moments later a paper towel was wafting to the floor where Law had been standing.

“He’s overprotective of the crew, always has been. I had some bad dentists in the past, did some fucked off shit and hurt me bad. Law also doesn’t like when the crew has any kind of medical test of procedure without his knowledge so now he’s embarrassed that he overreacted and room’d himself away back to his quarters. That’s just how he is,” Penguin explained with a small smile. You gave him a watery smile in return, scared by a fraction of the intensity Law would wield in battle. If that was Law’s bad side, you didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

You were a little shaken from Law suddenly disappearing from the operating theater but decided to talk it out with him right away. You didn’t like to let bad feelings fester underneath the surface and had always found airing things out made life better for everyone. Bepo led you to the Captain’s quarters at your insistence.

“I’m sorry, Captain’s not in a good mood right now -” Bepo said, raising his palms in a placating gesture.

“If he says he doesn’t want to see me, I’ll leave,” you said calmly, stopping in front of Law’s closed door. Bepo made a whine but left, allowing you to take your chances with the Captain. Taking a deep breath, you knocked twice on the metal. It was night time and the only illumination in the Tang were small lights placed near the floor to help the crew get around at night.

“Bepo, I already told you-”

“It’s not Bepo,” you called out. “It’s me, I want to talk about what happened and apologize,” you said, leaning close to the door. There was no reply as you lingered awkwardly in the cold dark hallway, your ear hovering near the door so you could hear Law.

“Room. Shambles,” was all you heard before you were caught in two strong arms. Law using his fruit powers on your was disorienting and you had a vague headache from the sudden movement and brightness from inside the cabin. You pressed on your temples as Law righted you to standing.

“The headache should go away momentarily, it happens to some people when I shambles them,” Law explained clinically. You grunted but gave yourself a small numbing effect using your left hand to speed up the process.

“That’s better,” you stated, now sitting yourself on the edge of Law’s desk as he sat down in his office chair.

“I didn’t know you could numb yourself,” Law said with mild interest as he steepled his fingers.

“Mmh, handy for when someone shambles me without warning,” you replied. “I’m sorry to bother you, Captain -”

“Law,” he said without taking his eyes off his reading.

“Er, right. I’m sorry to bother you, Law. I wanted to apologize for examining Penguin without your permission. I shouldn’t have acted on my own like that - he’s your crewmate and you’re responsible for his well being, I understand that now. I apologize and I won’t see any of your crew without asking permission first,” you stated, putting your hand over your heart. 

“Hm. I accept your apology,” Law intoned, looking back down at the article on his desk. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I…overreacted,” Law said, the last word so quiet you almost thought you misheard him. “I have a complicated past. I worry a lot about the people I love, that something bad will happen to them if I’m not watching over them all the time,” he said, now flipping a page in the journal he was reading. 

“That must be difficult to feel all the time,” you said, sympathetic to his plight.

“Shachi and Penguin are idiots too, which makes it worse. Last week they tried making a fire -” 

“That’s not so bad -”

“While we were submerged,” Law said, looking you in the eye. You couldn’t help but laugh hearing about the foolishness of the pirates. Law massaged his temples as he continued to read in the low light of the ship. It was quiet for a few moments between you as neither of you rushed to say anything, Law massaging his forehead the whole time.

“Tension headache?” you asked quietly.

“Always.”

You raised your left hand slowly towards his head and gave him a small amount of numbing, equal to a strong round of ibuprofen but that would last longer and act instantly. Law watched you warily the entire time but didn’t stop your motion either.

“There. Feels better already, no?” you asked with a smile. Law blinked a few times and looked around his cabin.

“That is…incredible. I haven’t felt - I always have a permanent headache,” Law lapsed into silence as he took a few breaths and stretched his neck. “Thank you. That was an act of kindness I didn’t deserve,” Law said, looking you in the eyes. You looked back for a few moments but flicked your eyes down to his desk, unable to maintain the intensity of Law’s stare.

“Is that- is that my article from New World Journal of Modern Dentistry ?” you asked, incredulous. Law’s expression didn’t change but you thought you saw a hint of color rising in his cheeks.

“Good night, Dentist-ya” he grunted, still not looking at you. You were shambles to the women’s quarters seconds later, leaving you confused about your interim Captain. 

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff

[faggotbeloved]

Cold Metal Biting Soft Flesh | Yandere Curly x Captain!M!Reader

Prologue: Decay (~2k words)

CW: Canon typical gore and violence, yandere themes, named original characters. Vomiting, blood and decay, no beta we die like Anya

This work can be skipped, since it's just a prologue.

This work does not contain smut but is 18+. Minors and fem-aligned people, please do not interact. AN at the end.

└───────────────────────┘

As the captain of the Astraeus, a colonization ship in which you take crew back and forth to barren rocks with no life save some algae that's a few million years from walking, you'd seen some shit. The only constants in your life were your ship, your base crew of just six, your nephew, and your title as captain.

Your life was good enough; you picked up around sixty colonists with various skills, dropped them off on a moon or a planet with the things they needed to flourish, then flew back to do it again. You had your late sibling's kid dropped in your lap recently, but he was a good kid and a promising pilot. You hardly spoke to the passengers below deck, but your little gaggle of crewmates were good friends, usually.

You thought you'd seen all that the vast, empty space had to offer until an unidentified object entered your flight path. The red flashing lights warned you that this clearly wasn't an asteroid, but in a meeting your resident doctor claimed that, regardless of its identity, it was in your best interest to ignore it and simply hop over it. When he suggested this to your crew, they were much less than happy to hear it.

"Are you kidding? Whoever it is, their SOS light is on, it's objectively immoral to ignore them. They'll die, if they haven't already!" Sascha protested. Sascha, with her spiky and colorful hair, was always the loudest and most abrasive, so it was no surprise she was vocal in her opinion against it.

"I understand that, but it'll add days to the trip. The passengers will be outraged, we could miss a supply drop—" he defended earnestly, but shut off once you raised a hand to silence him.

"Rhodes. She's right, and it's in our scientific interest," you emphasized, "that we dock at an undocumented craft. If there's living people, it is our responsibility to save them. If there's samples, we should get those, too, since there's no telling what the craft has."

Rhodes sighed and sat back, relinquishing the argument to your wise opinion.

"I motion to investigate the craft," you announced.

"I second the damn motion," Sascha growled.

"All opposed, raise your hand," you instructed. Nobody raised a hand, so you adjourned the meeting and prepared a team to investigate. The passengers didn't really care, not after you explained the cruciality of it all, so you and gathered your selected team.

You were a given; your nephew was in charge in the event that something happened on the Astraeus. Rhodes, with his medical expertise, was forced to come along. Harbor, the resident cook and communications leader, wanted to volunteer, but was overrode by Sascha. Finally, Lucille, who was just about the only person who specialized in combat, came with.

──────────────────────

With that, you donned your suits and ventured into the ship. Once you got inside and depressurized, you were immediately greeted with the thick air of rot. Fuck.

There was no oxygen in the ship and the lights flickered dully as the automatic doors showered with sparks once you left the airlock. You and Lucille forced the door open whilst Sascha and Rhodes bickered over whether or not anyone could still be alive. Sascha was optimistic, and Rhodes was less than.

"Hey, this is a Pony Express freighter," Sascha suddenly realized. "That... uh, fuck, what was her name? The pony mascot, Polle! Yeah, her face is all over the place. What were they hauling?"

Once the broken door opened with a uncomfortable screech, Lucille spoke slowly. "...Mouthwash."

You were stunned. That must have been a million empty bottles in here, all strewn about or in piles. "They ran out of food," Rhodes said softly. "No shit, dumbass. You think they drank it for fun?" Sascha huffed.

"You two, quit," you spoke up. "Pair up and focus. If anyone's alive after this long, it's not going to be pretty. Lou, get your gun."

"Will do, Captain," replied Lucille, waiting for your go-ahead to continue on. You ventured left and met with a wall of insulation foam. Ugh. Of course Pony Express would use insulation instead of spray metal; why wouldn't they cut corners with the cheapest material possible? Makes you glad that they went under a couple decades ago.

"We need to find a new route. These old kinds of ships have a central kitchen, a few other rooms, and a downstairs cargo bay," Sascha informed.

"Get with your pair. Lucille, go with Rhodes. Sascha, you get Lucille's extra gun, come with me. You two, take the right fork and we'll take middle. Keep your mics on."

──────────────────────

As you and Sascha went forward, you found long abandoned bedrooms belonging to a couple crew members. One door, the one without a lock and the only one open, held a woman's ID card, which prompted you to collect the IDs of all members.

"Huh, she's cute. This generation ship had cryopods, maybe she's a popsicle," Sascha joked.

"Be on the lookout for... four crew members and a captain. Young Anglo female named Anya, teenage East Asian male named Daisuke, middle aged Anglo male named Swansea, and a young Anglo male named Jimmy," you announced. "Looks like cabin's cut off from the rest of the ship. They probably had to sleep in the kitchen or medbay."

"Hm. Found the utility, but the door's jammed. I'll circle back," Rhodes said over the mic, passing by the room. "I'm in the medbay. It has traces of blood and vomit on the floor and—fuck, that bed is soaked in dried blood. Empty pill bottles; Captain, I think someone overdosed. It'd be easy, these painkillers are only a little less strong than what we have."

Rhodes observed the room while you and Sascha ventured back and followed their path to meet up.

"There's a gun case. Gun and bullets are missing. Be prepared to see either a crazy, gun wielding bastard or a whole lot of brains on the wall," Lucille said bitterly as you entered.

Sascha had been abnormally quiet since the Medbay news was delivered. "I'm a little nervous to check further now. But I guess we have to, huh?" she muttered.

Emeto and Gore warning.

You pressed on, and in the cockpit was a mess of foam and some dried blood. Nothing too damning just yet, though. You and Sascha lingered back to check out the control panels and determined that the ship steered directly into an asteroid, something virtually impossible with how simple the instructions were. "This was a purposeful crash, gu—" you began, but was cut off by a gag and the sound of vomit hitting a helmet.

"Lucille? Lucille!" You shouted, springing up to rush into the central room.

Ho-ly Fuck.

──────────────────────

Three people of the four you'd seen earlier were slumped across a table, party hats either hanging from their neck or somehow still on their head. You'd never wished to throw up more than in this moment. Lucille, since she'd already thrown up once, had to deal with the vomit coating her helmet, which only prompted her to go again.

The girl, Anya, had bloody saliva and puke dried onto her lips and decay around the her face, while her eyes were bloodshot and her body exhibited every symptom of opioid overdose. She slumped backwards, her position hardly mattering to whoever set this disgusting sight up. Fuck.

The boy, Daisuke, was unrecognizable with his face caved in. He was gruesomely propped up with his head on his hands, which had blood dripping down the forearms. His lips were twisted into a mockery of a smile, and the party hat had stayed on throughout the years of stationary movement. His bowels were nearly spilling out, clearly having been cut by a large sharp object before having been killed by the blow to his face.

The man, Swansea, had a clean bullet hole through the head and had both arms on the table like he was waiting to eat. His head fell backwards and the crust of regurgitated blood caked his lips and chin. Furthermore, his eyeball hung loosely around his chin and he'd been clearly beaten up before hand.

Five steaks lined the plates, and the barely-started decay made the sight worse. Five steaks... in a ship that had no real meat.

Not only were the crew in space with no decomposing lifeforms to feed off of them, they were in a room cold enough to freeze their bodies now that the heater power failed, so decomposition ceased entirely. They were stuck like they had just been killed days ago, their skin bloating and their organs slush inside them. With every poke and prod you made, Lucille gagged and only worsened her condition as she attempted to lift her helmet, since she suddenly had no oxygen but was hit with the smell of rot.

"Look away," you said firmly, motioning for Rhodes to bring Lucille to the side.

"Sealegs, this is your Captain speaking. Do you copy?" You spoke into your microphone, radioing back to the ship.

"Captain, this is Sealegs! I copy!" A young boy's voice chirped out eagerly.

"Sealegs, I want you to talk over the intercom—the big, red button I tell you not to touch—and tell the passengers to send up anyone with 'for-en-sic' or medical expertise. They need suits and tell them that it's a 'Rated R' sight. Three 'ca-da-vers' so far, and to bring barf bags," you said carefully, using words he was unfamiliar with to try not to traumatize your nephew.

You spring into Captain mode, reassigning roles to fit the crew's comfortability and capability. "Sascha, lead the passengers up and make sure they bring actual supplies. A gurney or something in case one of us passes out. Lucille, hand Rhodes your gun. You're dismissed; go shower and clean the vomit from your helmet. You don't need to see this."

──────────────────────

A full inspection of the ship, including the storage, determined that two crew members were missing—Jimmy, and the captain, whose name you hadn't yet found. Unfortunately, both of the captain's ID cards were destroyed beyond repair in a manner that seemed on purpose. The only room not observed yet was the utility room, which was seemingly blocked by a fire axe and multiple furniture items. In the spirit of a full check, you and about a half-dozen passengers broke through and gasped as you finally saw the inside.

The Util room itself was fine, but the final crew member, Jimmy had shot himself in the chest.

It didn't kill him immediately.

He crawled to beside a cryo pod and used his hand to make a handprint on the handle, as if begging someone else to open it.

"Check all of the other pods. I want someone to get that gun, too," you organized, then followed the handprint and lifted open the hatch. Oh. Oh, fuck.

"Shit! I need medical, now! Gurney, respirator, and morphine!" you shouted as a man—the former Captain, you were sure, fell out of the pod in the fetal position, shivering, choking, and staring at you with a wide, terrified eye.

You picked him up, wincing as you felt his raw skin squish under his weight, and removed your helmet to set it over his head for a gasp of real air. God knows how long he'd been without fresh air. You may have been suffocating, but you had good lungs. In less than a minute, the team brought a respirator and oxygen tank with a gurney.

You set him down and placed the mask over yourself, gasping and gagging at the rotting stench in the air, then rasped out to the man, "It'll be okay. We've got you."

You took back your helmet and put the mask over his lipless mouth, then sprinted back to the ship. Once you looked back down at him, you saw a tear escaping his eye and piercing blue irises set upon you.

┌───────────────────────┐

Yay... first post on this blog! This is obviously not the only part, I have plans, but this is essentially a skippable cutscene, since you could probably just ignore this part and head to the next once I make it. I just wanted to set the tone and setting, try my hand at gore, and voice my post-judgement headcannons. Anyways, I really hope my writing wasn't bad and it made sense! No Curly just yet, but just wait lol.

[actuallysaiyan]

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, periods/menstruation, bodily fluids, messy, do not READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE PERIODS I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH OKAY????

You’d never done this before. You’ve been with Kento for a while now, and you just never thought you’d be in this position. Sometimes when you’re on your period, you just get so horny. This was no exception this week. You found yourself almost unable to contain your arousal. It was beginning to drive you crazy.

“We can just have sex,” Nanami suggests. He looks up from the magazine he’s reading to see your reaction.

“What do you mean?” You ask, your mouth dry from just the thought alone.

“We can have sex. I could fuck you. You’re horny. What kind of lover would I be to leave you in need like this?”

Your heart flutters. You’ve never felt so aroused in your life. You feel the urge to jump on this man and ride him until you’re both completely exhausted. Logically, you know you need to set this up better than to just jump on him and rip his clothes off.

Kento comes over to you, leaving the magazine on the couch. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a very sweet kiss. Then it soon turns hungrier and more passionate, leaving your cunt throbbing with need.

“Let’s get some towels.”

You follow him to the linen closet and Kento picks out a few old towels that have been shoved to the back. He grabs your hand and leads you into your shared bedroom.

He places the towels over the blankets, making sure everything is covered. Regardless, he doesn’t care if things get too messy. It just gives him an excuse to buy new sheets. Then he looks at you and smirks.

“Undress and get on the bed.”

You remove your clothes slowly, painfully aware of the pad that sticks to your underwear as you throw it on the ground. Something about this is parts arousing but also parts embarrassing. If only to prove that you’re too horny for your own good, the embarrassment seems to make you even more aroused.

You sit on the bed, your legs slightly spread. Kento looks at your cunt, noticing the blood and slick that’s smeared a little on your inner thighs. He’s no stranger to the nature of menstruation, but he’s finding himself very turned on by the thought of fucking you while you’re on your period.

He slowly strips, tantalizing you and making you practically begging for him. Then he grabs the bullet vibrator from the bedside table, turning it on. Just the sounds of it make your body shudder in excitement. He spreads your thighs even more, pressing the vibrator to your needy clit.

The moan that escapes you sounds so pathetic. Kento smirks as he presses the vibrator harder onto your swollen nub. He begins circling it, using the different speed functions to his advantage. His eyes snap down to your dribbling hole. There’s blood tingeing the slick that leaks out of you. 

“Need to get you all ready for me.” He explains to you, even though he knows you’re more than ready for him.

Kento brings you to an orgasm with expertise and ease. The vibrator thrums against your clit so deliciously, making the flames in your lower tummy build until the dam breaks. You cum hard with a loud cry and more of your red tinged slick drips out of your pussy.

He lines his cock up to your hole, watching as it greedily tries to swallow his tip. Your cunt is more than ready to take him, but he just enjoys teasing you. Especially since you’re even more needy than usual. Slowly, he slides into you until he’s balls deep inside you.

A low grunt rumbles from his chest. Nanami had no idea just how much hotter and wetter your pussy would be from your period. The added blood makes things stickier in a way, but it is not unpleasant. In fact, it adds to the pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good,” he says as he helps you wrap your legs around him. “Fucking hot, tight and wet.”

You can barely think straight to even answer him. All that comes from your lips now are moans, desperate pleas and pathetic whines. Kento captures your lips in a heated kiss as he begins to fuck you a little harder and faster.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’m gonna cum inside you. Make this bond even deeper…” 

Your nails dig into his back as the tip of his cock slams against your sweet spot. You’re seeing stars as your next orgasm begins building faster and faster. You can’t even imagine lasting longer than a few more seconds of this.

“You know what they say about fucking while the woman is on her period right?” Kento huskily whispers in your ear. “They say it bonds the man and woman for life. Their souls bonded forever.”

You pant like a bitch in heat as your orgasm comes crashing over you. Your tight little walls flutter around him, making Kento grunt. Your slick, bloodied walls are milking him for all he’s got. Another few harsh thrusts and he’s burying himself deep in you so that he can release his load deep inside of you.

Soft cries and pants fill the room as both of you are riding out your high. Kento slowly pulls out, watching his seed leaking out of your hole. The blood mixes with his cum and it causes his cock to harden again. He uses the tip of his cock to push the cum back into you.

“Round two, yeah? You can take it, yeah?”

[starcurtain]

Hello! I just saw your latest post and you might have been referring to my ask if it was the one about Ratiorine's differing philosophies or of what philosophies they abide by (existentialism, absurdism, etc) then that's me! If you weren't referring to that I apologize for the confusion. Sending it off anon this time so maybe it doesn't disappear 🥲

Sorry for the ask disappearing the first time; I'm not sure what happened, and I was so sad because I had been carefully holding on to it to answer it! I'm glad you were able to resend.

I do have to say first that philosophy is not my area of expertise, so there may be much more qualified philosophy buffs out there who can answer this more accurately than me, but I'll give it a go with my personal understandings of the characters:

First, Ratio is the easier of the two I think. As many people have said, he's a good fit for existentialism. His entire shtick is basically believing in the power of the individual to improve and enrich their own life, to fight valiantly regardless of the hardships imposed by their life's circumstances, and to make themself into a better person by their own choices.

It's important to underscore that this means Ratio believes in self-determination, in the idea that people's lives are not foreordained but are actually actively shaped each day by personal decisions. Therefore, people have inherent freedom to decide the course of their own lives by accepting what they approve of, refusing to accept what they disapprove of, and harnessing their own individual power to ultimately achieve self-actualization.

Essentially, Ratio works under the impression that life is not guided by something as intangible as destiny, and no matter where you start off in life, what ultimately happens to you is within your control (or at least within the control of whoever controls you). This is likely a small part of why it grates on him so badly that he wasn't recognized by Nous, because the fact that one can dedicate everything to a goal and still not achieve that goal runs contrary to his central philosophy.

If he believes that people have the power to determine the course of their own lives, then what does it say about him, who fought so hard to do exactly as he claims even idiots can do--seize control his own fate--and yet didn't succeed? Are there some things outside of man's power? It's enough to make even a renowned doctor question himself, and Ratio decided to come out on the side of "It's a personal failing, not a flaw in my philosophy." He literally said "Skill issue" to himself.

Changing tack a tiny bit here, I think it's also important to emphasize that there is a difference between existentialism and nihilism even though these philosophies dovetail. Again, I'm not an expert in philosophy, so my understanding is very limited, but the basic idea of existentialism is that "existence comes before essence"--that is, things start as a blank slate and gain nature and meaning after the fact. We are not created by some grand design, nor is there any inherent "purpose for living." Things just exist because they exist.

This is where existentialism intersects with nihilism, at the starting point that existence is inherently meaningless. But, in my personal opinion, nihilism as a philosophy fails to move beyond that. Pure nihilism is ultimately self-defeating because it leaves us with no motivation to commit to growth. It's a philosophy antithetical to the continuation of life as we know it. Existence is meaningless and any meaning you personally derive from existence is also meaningless, so why bother attempting to derive any meaning at all? This complete apathy is the Device IX that Star Rail paints as so dangerous.

And Ratio is not this way at all. His philosophy absolutely reaffirms that life can have meaning, so long as people create that meaning for themselves. He simultaneously asserts that anything that people create is not meaningless ...which basically means that meaning itself cannot be meaningless. (If that makes any sense to anyone.)

Frankly, I would argue that this philosophy may be a core part of why Ratio has not been recognized by Nous so far, rather than simply his "being a good person." (Nous is a robotic AI super-computer, why would THEY care about the presence or lack of human empathy?) Ultimately, Ratio's central philosophy about people being capable of determining their own fates and purposes also applies to his understanding of knowledge--knowledge is not something which is inherent in certain beings from birth or limited to the purview of the "special" (geniuses), but is attainable by all people. People are not "born talented" or "born untalented," they are simply "educated" or "uneducated," with the only barrier between these categories being one's own personal willingness to change. The mundane can become the divine--if they work hard enough at it.

Thus, knowledge is not wealth to be hoarded, but a currency to be spent to enrich other members of humanity.

(By the way, completely random aside--it also surprises me that everyone relates Ratio to Alhaitham from Genshin when they literally have such a glaring fundamental discrepancy in their understanding of the concept of wisdom... But anyway, back on topic!)

Ratio may (sort of) respect the members of the Genius Society, may recognize their incredible knowledge and abilities, but at the heart of the matter lies a single all-important question: Does Ratio even really believe in "genius" as a distinction (other than as a concept to insult himself)? Does he truly believe there is barrier between brilliance and idiocy that "ordinary people" can never cross?

He speaks convincingly about geniuses being different from "the ordinary," but if his core belief is that people have the power to pull themselves up out of despair and achieve greatness through effort and self-development, rather than some form of luck or god-given talent at birth, then... do born "geniuses" even really exist? Is there really an insurmountable difference between brilliant and mundane?

If knowledge is the equalizer of all sentient beings, do we not all have at least the initial capacity to become geniuses?

I personally think this central distinction about the capacity for knowledge among all humanity is the actual deciding factor in Ratio's rejection from the Genius Society, because, at the end of the day... how do you become a member of the "Genius Society" when you fundamentally reject the distinction of "genius" as an exclusive category from the start?

Ratio wants to share knowledge and uplift everyone (even if he thinks most people are starting off at the rock bottom known as idiocy).

His mission is diametrically opposed to the concept of a "Genius Society" in the first place.

He wanted in to the cool kids club because he desperately craves validation and acceptance, but the philosophical values of the Genius Society are ultimately incompatible with his own. In short, he would have to cease to be "Veritas Ratio" to succeed in joining the geniuses.

Okay, okay, back to the original point again, and just one more note about Ratio: Even though existentialism also goes hand-in-hand with absurdism, I don't think Ratio is far enough down the philosophical rabbit hole to believe in the wider definition of absurdism. Although I think he does agree with the inherent meaninglessness of existence, I don't think he views existence itself as truly irrational and the universe as as manifestation of unknowable chaos. I think he'd at least like to imagine that there are some ontological principles and inherent laws governing the operations of reality, and I think he does believe that certain things can be predicted with the application of enough thought... He certainly seems to believe in some form of "objective truth," at the very least.

I think he'd at least like to believe the universe is semi-orderly, even if he might deep down admit this is also wishful thinking.

So, to me he reads as a strong metaphor for pure existentialism, with deliberate rejections to both nihilism's apathy and absurdism's lean toward solely subjective reality.

PHEW, this is already long and I still have a whole other character to talk about... I had more to say about this topic than I thought. Sorry for the long read!

Anyway... Aventurine.

I've seen all sorts of things thrown around for Aventurine's philosophy, and while I think he does inherit a bit of Acheron's absurdism by the end of 2.1, I actually don't think Aventurine is an absurdist, an existentialist, or a nihilist.

I think Aventurine is a struggling fatalist.

He doesn't like it. We see him actively question it, but ultimately, he does come back to the concept of destiny over and over.

First, I think it's important to draw a clear distinction between Ratio and Aventurine: Ratio's existentialism is a philosophy that technically works even in a theological vacuum. Nous doesn't have to exist for Ratio's philosophy to function. Ratio's belief in the self-determination of humanity is, in fact, somewhat opposed to belief in aeons in the first place, and only works because technically the aeons of Star Rail used to be human (or were originally human creations). It's essentially an atheist viewpoint.

But Aventurine is a religious character. Like, he's just... religious. That's a fact about him. Even though we do hear his doubts, at the end of the day, he actually believes in Gaiathra, and believing in a omniscient supernatural being that is not human in origin (is from outside the aeon system) comes with a whole set of philosophical foundations that most aeon-worshipping characters just don't have in Star Rail. (Sunday is the obvious exception here, by the way.)

Kakavasha's like the one practicing pagan in the middle of an atheist convention. Awkward.

Being more serious: Religion requires faith. Faith requires the ability to believe in things you cannot verify with empirical facts. To believe in things you can only feel, never see. The belief that a goddess is watching over you, blessing you, and guiding you requires you to also accept the idea that events in your life are not always in your own control--that some of what occurs to you is decided by powers beyond your comprehension.

In essence, faith requires belief in fate. And that leads to fatalism.

No matter how much he doesn't like it, no matter how much we see him struggle with it, Aventurine does actually seem to believe in the concept of fate. He believes that some events in life are destined to occur, that some things are outside of individuals' control, and that ultimately not everything can be changed.

This is the dead opposite of Ratio's mindset: No matter how hard we fight, how far we push ourselves... in the end, sometimes people fail. Sometimes the only answer to our endless struggles is that we die, as we were destined to, before ever achieving the greatness we sought or the futures we were promised.

As an aside, I don't think faith or religion are necessarily the only factors connecting Aventurine to this particular philosophy either. Even removing theological aspects from the conversation, his extreme focus on the gambling aesthetic suggests a strong connection to fatalism too--if not a goddess, then one's fate may as well be in the hands of luck itself, of the whims of the rolling dice--or the push and pull of "powers that be," those figures of authority in the room where it happens, who make their shady deals according to preset rules and expectations, every bet resulting in an ultimately predictable outcome.

(He keeps gambling and gambling, hoping that he'll get a different result than the one he knows is inevitable...)

This is, of course, an inherently pessimistic mindset, a perfect dark-mirror to Ratio's deep-down optimism. Fatalism puts humanity into a position of powerlessness. All hopes and dreams are given over to the goddess, by whose judgment and whims the actual events of one's life are decided. Pain and poverty are inevitable trials. Suffering and death are foreordained.

And yet Aventurine has to cling to this, as much as he doubts it, as much as he hates the idea that things in his life are beyond his power to control.

Because if fate doesn't exist... If it wasn't destiny, if the tragedies of his life weren't trials from the goddess, if things weren't supposed to go this way... Then every single thing in his life really is meaningless. Everything he suffered, everyone he loved and loss, his mother's and sister's sacrifices, the torment he went through--just sheer bad luck. All of it, completely and utterly meaningless.

How can you convince yourself to keep living, in the face of such supreme and all-encompassing Nihility?

This is the central struggle of Aventurine's character, the actual mental and emotional journey we see him undertaking from 2.0 to 2.1. He is literally on the precipice, swinging between a viewpoint that he hates--his fatalistic belief in destiny--and an entirely self-defeating philosophy--nihilism--whose only possible final outcome is suicide.

This is what his talk with Acheron at the end of 2.1 is all about. This is how she saves him. In that final cutscene, we witness Aventurine reach a mental compromise, managing to finally reconcile his necessary faith in the concept of destiny with the reality that life may truly begin meaningless--but beginning meaningless does not mean staying meaningless, and believing in destiny does not bar you from making your own choices or finding your own purpose in life.

Later on in Penacony's story, we literally see Acheron use Ratio's philosophy to reject the same nihility that crept into Aventurine's:

Acheron wards off nihility's apathy through an absurdism all her own, but one which manages to enclose both Ratio's and Aventurine's otherwise incompatible mindsets: We have no way of ever knowing for certain whether the events of our lives are fated or mere nonsense. We have no way of knowing if our choices are our own or foreordained. But we don't need to know this to find meaning and value in them. Whether life is nothing more than unpredictable chaos or a predetermined pattern of cause and effect, what matters is what you make of it.

Ultimately, I think that this post has really helped me recognize just how well Aventurine and Ratio work as philosophical foils.

They really are perfect opposites.

Aventurine's fatalism is deterministic, while Ratio's existentialism is self-deterministic. Aventurine's philosophy is inherently pessimistic; Ratio's is inherently optimistic. Ratio's philosophy operates on a core belief in the freedom of humanity to decide their own paths in life, while Aventurine hates but does ultimately believe that people aren't really in control, that even if no gods are guiding us, we can't rise above our own natures. Ratio's philosophy makes meaning from growth; Aventurine's makes meaning from loss...

And they both struggle with fundamental doubts in their own philosophies, core questions that are directly tied to their own lives. Aventurine worries that his faith might be misplaced, that destiny might not exist, and that everything he suffered might have been in pointless, empty vain. Ratio faces the crisis of recognizing that his core belief in the power of humankind to determine their own paths and make their own meaning might not actually apply to everyone--because it doesn't seem to apply to himself.

It's literally only by bridging this philosophical binary with Acheron's anti-Nihility absurdist rhetoric that we can reach some sort of healthy outcome. That's why it takes both Ratio's note and Acheron's comments to finally lead Aventurine to acceptance. Ratio probably needs a little bit of Aventurine's "If you didn't make it into the Genius Society, there's got to be a reason" mindset to finally reach some peace with his situation too.

I'm not even a philosophy expert and even I can see that there's really only one takeaway here: These two characters were totally written with each other in mind.

Aventurine and Ratio need each other on core metaphysical levels! 😂

It's so good guys. You can't see it, but I'm making chef's kisses, I promise.

[g1rlken]

Inherently his

Rupert Campbell Black x gem!reader

Summary: domestic fluff #10 prompt list request

Word count: 4.2k+

Warnings: slight implications

Well polished burgundy car roof made a tapping sound against Rupert’s hands as he paced and sighed in the parking lot. Not frantically, not out of nerves, he never had those. Anticipation however was rather irritating. He didn’t realise when he caught that on from his wife, polar opposites. Ever anxious y/n’s unbothered lover. Most stuff rarely phased Rupert.

But when it regarded her, he couldn’t help it. Her wearies became his just the same way her joy lay in his. It was difficult to not adapt to her ways, especially on her big days. She was after a new job position, switching places in workspace and it was a big interview. He drove her to the place all calm and collected, full well confident in her capabilities. But as he awaited her return from the interview he couldn’t help but feel tense for her. She had wanted this for so long, despite the need of its financial aspect she didn’t have to work a day in our out of the house to sustain them in any way. But it wasn’t about that, he was a lover to an extremely passionate and determined woman. She would be crushed for days if it didn’t go her away after the time and energy she spent into this project. Regardless he quickly pushed that thought aside as his belief in her resurfaced more.

The sight of her walking out the building with her blazer and files in her hand and a bit far to make out her facial expression, he stiffened and paced closer himself. Reaching up to him she shrugged, with a heavy sigh as he searched for her eyes to meet his. “Apparently” she took a deep breath and paused for exaggerated effect, “I got it!” She exclaimed pivoting almost instantly and jumped right into his arms which he had opened for consolation either ways.

“Dear god” Rupert let out a deep chuckle as he could feel his heart beating in his ears, the false dread she built up replaced with immense happiness. “I knew it!” Kissing the top of her head he exclaimed, sweeping her off of her feet to spin her around. Deepening the embrace he held her impossibly close before putting her feet back to the ground with her giggles and squeals but didn’t exactly pull away. “My wonder girl didn’t I tell you!”

“Yes!” She giggled, heart warmed by his embrace and enthusiasm, mirroring his ear to ear smile. “I can’t believe it—I made it in the first round!”

“Well I for one most definitely can!” He brought her face closer to his, cupping her cheeks as he placed a passionate kiss on her lips. A hurried, teeth pressed, full of excitement movement of their lips crashing.

The surge of happiness within her was as it is skyrocketing, the kiss only highlighted it. “I couldn’t be more happier” she said breaking the kiss, “and thank you, for all that you put up with in the process I couldn’t have done it without-“

“I am about to kiss you to shut you up” he said placing soft peck on her lips again. “And I won’t hesitate to go further should you say, ‘thank you’ to me again. Ridiculous behaviour!” Rupert scolded her teasingly but he meant it.

It’s not as if Rupert needed a reason to celebrate his wife or celebrate with her. Everyday he got to wake up enlaced in her arms was a celebration, the warmth of her, the joy she radiates, everything pumped life into him. Most days he couldn’t comprehended she was real, someone who steered the storm of him directly out to the shore. He did not think it was possible, he couldn’t imagine being so anchored, so grounded but there she was and all it took her was a smile and his world seemed just fine. He knew he didn’t deserve her but he was so damn glad she was his. As were her dreams and her joys like her wearies.

Amongst obvious other things within their celebration, they ended up at the fancy fine dining. Generally the cooks of Rutshire sufficed for good food more than enough and Rupert’s expertise to romanticise the setting didn’t make their home dining table look any different than a fancy place yet she insisted on not skipping town this town. It wasn’t rare for them but his dates were rather activity oriented and y/n was already spent that day and wanted a slower night.

Time flew by at the dinner like it always did because conversation came so natural with her, at times he felt like he could spend hours just staring at her face, her perfect face with star for eyes and hearts on her lips and the sweetest tongue and the most precious laughter, he could swear her hair had intoxicating wildflowers in them as if he couldn’t waste a blink of a moment he got to stare at her. As the waiter presented the couple with a bill, she reached out for it and at first he assumed she were to slide to him since it was closer to her reach but she didn’t which alarmed him for a moment. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” He said with an unaccounted scoff and stopped her by placing his hand above here.

“Getting the check.” Y/n wanted to be nonchalant about this, not make a fuss of it yet somewhere with herself she knew that he would definitely not let her be sly about this.

“Yes my darling girl, get it here please.” He spoke trying to get the brown bill holders towards himself. Surprised that she gripped it harder he frowned in a confused manner. This was first of its name, extremely uncharacteristic it was an unsaid relationship law between them that he always paid. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?” Brows furrowed back in reciprocation, a bit taken aback as to how seriously he took this prospect of paying for a restaurant check. When clearly neither of them had any financial bounds, even independently. “I’m paying.”

Rupert just laughed in her face as though she cracked a joke, “very funny” this time he grabbed the check towards himself at once.

“I’m serious!” Exclaiming with a whine as she tried to reach out for it again and he leant backwards shaking his head at her determination to get to it, “I’ve got a promotion today, come on!”

“And? You’re still my wife.” Rupert said with a quick glance at the bill and instantly shutting the book so she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the figure.

“Yes exactly! I’m your wife I should be allowed to treat you.” She reasoned further prying him to let her see the bill but it was of no use, he’d already hid it behind him and sat tall in her way to reach to it.

“I am treated more than enough. More than you could imagine.” He shrugged as he reached for his wallet, a mere moment away from guarding the bill from her and she was back at it. Yet with another feeble attempt to reach to it.

“You know I can afford it!” It was like a dead end getting the ever headstrong, hellbent on spoiling her, husband of hers to be convinced to let her do something for once.

“It’s not about affording my love, I myself can’t morally and romantically afford you paying.” He exaggerated getting his wallet out and distracted her with a kiss as he placed the money inside the bill, so she truly couldn’t see the amount, no pestering would get him to change his ground.

“You are relentless” she breathed breaking away from the kiss yet remained close to his face.

“And you are mine.” He continued kissing the side of her face then let go off the bill putting it on the fattest side of the table, away from her reach. “Mine to spoil, to love, to irk, to fuck the life out of—“

“I think that’s enough” widening her eyes with the prospect he was reaching towards at the end of his sentence, not that she minded it. He knew that, besides the blush on her face said otherwise too. It was a rather civil and a public setting to be romantically lewd.

“Is it?” A deep chuckle escaped him at her awkward unbidden expression, he loved that.

“Let’s go?”

“—As my sweet girl wishes.”

-

It like any other day of their married bubble, only the first week of y/n’s promotional job and she had come home later in the evening. Obviously Rupert had to pick her up, he noticed this change within her of not being drained and mundanely exhausted from her long work day. She would talk his ear off unlike falling asleep on the way back home out of exhaustion how it occurred in her previous job. Rupert himself could tire out from her enthusiasm at the end of day, he loved this for her. Seeing her prosper and spend her time doing what she loved and coming home to who she loved, it warmed his heart. The hearty soul of her did not need energy for love, it was inherently imbedded within her.

However much he loved for the her to work on her deepest passions timelessly, his own deepest passion was loving her. It would have annoyed him if she had been working late over a job that drained her: that would be twice the disgrace of time he shared with her and he hated having it lessened. As of now, knowing she was off doing what she loved it simply eased his heart he’d never want her to cut down a bit even for him. He could simply find more time. Just how he picked her up from her workspace, it was a forty minute drive from their home, so almost an hour and half round trip for him but that gained forty more minutes with her.

Now, once home as she was having a bath, he came inside with his chair and a book in his hand as casually as strolling into any other room in the house. For a moment she was surprised and alarmed, shifting within the water and the foam surrounding. She had already offered him to join her but he’d refused her since he had already bathed. Was he planning to bath twice in the same evening? She thought to herself awaiting him to remove his clothes and get in but he just settled the chair close to the bathtub and sat on it. He even opened the book and was about to go on with his reading as though he just took a comfortable seat in the living room. “Rupert?” She questioned extremely amused by this antic.

“Yes my love?” He responded without looking at her, crossing one leg above the other, flipping through pages to reach the page he’d last left the book on.

“What are you doing?” A small giggle escaped her tilting her head, he was about to do something thematically romantic at any point she considered but this wasn’t as steamy as he usually was for foreplay.

“I’m reading.” He shrugged, as he raised the book fully to display her the cover. The

two often had silent reading sessions and the book he was currently into was something she had recommended so he would not read it if she wasn’t around. Not that she asked, but he’d rather have her around when he was reading a book she recommended, or some other book, or the newspaper, figuratively just about whatever. He’d always prefer to be around her.

“Whilst I’m trying to have a bath?” Bemused y/n tried piecing if he was actually nonchalant or going somewhere with this, she could generally tell. Currently it was weighting heavy on him being nonchalant yet, this setting was too much for him to not go somewhere.

“And have I blown out the candles? Have I turned the shower on? Have I splashed you with cold water?” Rupert went on with alternatives that would require her confusion “I’m not stoping you from bathing, love.”

“But you said you didn’t want to get in? You already bathed.” Who seriously reads in the goddamn bathroom whilst someone is having a bath. Rupert, apparently. This was a new discovery, at times he would walk in on her showering or bathing and most definitely join in, even if they were talking and she had to pee he’d just carry the conversation through the door, right outside. Not that he didn’t pester to be let inside, it’s just where she deemed 2 minutes of privacy to be necessary.

“I am not bathing. I am reading.” Rupert emphasised again, “I have got my chair see?”

“You can read in the living room, or our bedroom, or the guest room or wait—the library!” She joked leaning against the bathtub wall, finding this situation rather comical but it was a genuine chosen setting for him.

“No I want to read here with you so we get more time together.” He mentioned ever so casually whilst reading and indulging the conversation with her at the same time.

“I’m not going away on war tomorrow, Rupert.” Y/n was surprised to say at least, at times it seemed like Rupert was an amalgamation of all possible love languages: physical touch, words of affirmation, gift giving and quality time too.

“But we will go to bed in a few years so we would be away for six to eight hours—depending on where the night leads us.” He told her with a smirk on his face, implying what they got up to at night and regards with how much time the activity takes up to be up the next day.

“We sleep in the same bed what do you mean away?” This time she laughed, which made his lips curl down to a small smile from the smirk.

“I don’t get to see you until I wake up.” He reasoned and given how sure he was of himself Rupert considered that most definitely valid. By then, since the door was open like it always was, one of his dogs made its way inside as well. Peacefully lounging next to Rupert’s chair as he scratched their fur child’s back. “See, you’re his favourite too!” Time to time, not even one moment went by where Rupert didn’t think out loud about his book or even the most mundane of conversations which peaked their minds.

As he fell silent, focused on a passage y/n finally found the moment to reflect on this scenario “I really can’t believe you actually went on with this.”

“Darling I read all the time.” Rupert told her, breaking his reading link without hesitation.

“No I meant in here, I’m literally naked here.” She mentioned even though the foam covered all of it leaving her out just from the neck and face. It wasn’t left to interpretation that she was naked obviously.

“I have seen you naked more than you have seen yourself naked, come on” shrugging he returned to his finger on the word of his book to continue. The exaggerated implication didn’t seem so exaggerating when he said it like that and she knew better than to challenge him.

“Wow” was all she could mutter with a small laugh, “you know most people don’t bath with an audience.”

“One, you’re not most people and two, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Their black mutt walked inside as well, buzzed with enthusiasm when it saw the full bath tub. Pacing up to jump right in with y/n, Rupert brew this habit of bathing with his dogs and as much as she loved them, she couldn’t bath in a lavender soap foam pool and tangerine candle hue with their dogs.

“And that’s my cue” she sighed, reaching up for the towel and quickly wrapping herself in it as she got out. The dog moved frantically in the bathtub with more room available now, causing Rupert to laugh and he stood up following her outside. Resettling on the arm chair in the bedroom as she got dressed, “it really concerns me to think what would happen to you if I had to go away for work or a girlfriends retreat for a week or two.”

“Your ladies trip generally runs short for upto 2 days and 4, maximum. As of work I’d just come with you” he proposed a solution at the top of his head.

“What if you couldn’t?” Amusing, y/n put on her bottoms. Now he’d completely set his book aside given he couldn’t miss a chance to see her getting dressed which made her laugh a bit to herself.

“What could I possibly have to do?” Rupert shrugged, lounging back on the chair. He had his work too but he didn’t even consider to consider it on the same level of importance.

“You’re a minister!” Exclaiming she reminded him, he spoked it a casually as if a real world did not exist outside of her. If he were to answer to that he’d let her know he was aware of a world outside of her but the real world lied within her so it didn’t matter anyways. “House of commons were in a crumbling mess whilst I would be away for work, what then?”

“Everything is a crumbling mess when you’re away darling.” Shifting in his chair he let out a sigh, “Besides if Tony Baddingham can use three different choppers in the same day to commute from the same office, I can most definitely fly out in one to see my wife.”

“What if I end up in an instant tragic situation and pass away?” She was layering herself, pulling a sweater over her head blocked her view of his face, which was an an immediately colour drained and changed one as she pulled it down. They were being light hearted, funny, what set him off all of a sudden?

“If you didn’t want me to read whilst you were bathing you could have simply asked me and I would have left granting you your privacy.” His playful demeanour shifted to a rather stoic one in an accusatory tone.

“What-?” It left her confused since she didn’t even comment on that subject nor did she drop any passive taunts that it bothered her, “what are you saying of course I wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just funny, sweet even I didn’t say it bothered me not at all.”

“Then why say such morbid things?” He scoffed, the unsettling feeling in him could not be contained whilst being seated so he stood up.

“It was just a silly question but it’s not inevitable-“ trying to reconstruct the meaning of her question he interrupted her.

“This is ghastly behaviour y/n, why would you say such things” letting out a heavy breath he paced small steps back and forth as he spoke.

“Such things? Are you serious? Life is just unpredictable it’s not like I said something wrong about you!” The exaggerated adjectives he used really ticked her off for some reason.

“It is plenty wrong talking about exiting our life like that!” He retaliated with words but kept his volume level headed like a normal conversation because despite his anger she deserved a decent tone from him at all times. valid anger and ill behaviour were mutually exclusive, one didn’t account for other obviously.

It left her taken aback and somewhat finding this conversation ridiculous, “it’s just logical thinking. Why do you think people have life insurances—both of us have one.”

“It’s a practicality. It’s a requirement.” He emphasised growing agitated that he wasn’t getting his extremely simple point across.

“Exactly it’s practical-! Neither of us will live forever.” She pointed out to the space between them, unsure of what exactly was making him have such a dramatised point of view.

“You don’t have to talk like that when I asked you once not to, I don’t enjoy that.” He sighed, tone dejected as sulk overpowered.

“You want me to apologise for saying I may die one day?” She asked sarcastically it wasn’t as serious nor difficult to her as it was to him.

Her repeated if again truly punctured his resolve for proper-ness. “Yes.” He paused, he generally never demanded apologies especially not from her.

“I am not saying sorry for a joke” she scoffed shaking her head, he was absurd to think that wasn’t a rhetorical question.

“—I think you should.”

“Well I won’t.” Remaining firm to her point y/m didn’t waver. But with a tensed jaw he did. Grabbing the pillow set from his side of the bed was enough for her to piece his move “you have got to be kidding me.” Generally when the fought, she would be the one sending him off to sleep in the guest room, he eventually would make his way back or vice versa because they did not believe in letting the other one go to sleep upset, yet this was a first. He couldn’t possibly outmatch her pettiness.

Rupert didn’t say anything as he made his way past her, the pillow tucked under his arm as he reached for his book. “You can keep your apology.” He huffed and left with his last word.

Leaving her to their bedroom, she pondered confused for a while that she truly did not say anything offensive and of the apologising, which clearly wouldn’t make her a smaller person but it was about principles. Was he even that upset? Why was he even that upset?

Rupert could be upset but he most definitely could not be upset and far from her for longer bounds of time, he softly knocked on their open bedroom door and leaned against the doorframe. Averting her attention to the door, she was doing her routinely journaling and today was rather eventful. “Back in 45 minutes?” She couldn’t help but smirk slightly at that, “you broke your last record I’m truly proud of you!”

With a deep exhale he leant off the doorframe and walked over to her stopping the stopwatch she’d set on their alarm clock. It was this stupid inside joke, he would always come back from the guest room or the other way around and she would time how much minutes to break their resolve. It was bittersweet in a way that despite the fight and faults he never made her upset to the extent of not awaiting him. “Last was 40 minutes was it?”

“41.” She corrected wanting to see him lighten up, the inescapable small smile on his face really helped. “Sit” she pulled him down to sit close to her, cross legged on the bed. His hands in hers as she spoke “what’s really got you so upset huh? It can’t be what I said, is it because I was working late?”

“No no it’s not you working late. On the contrary I am very happy about that, you’re pursuing your dream, I couldn’t be happier. But it is what you said…” he trailed off with a sigh tightening his grip back on her hands. “I have lived most of my life with my heart on my sleeve, until you I’ve never come across a love I was affected deeply by if I were to lose. I have lost, people have left and quite frankly I wasn’t affected to the one tenth fraction of them leaving than how the thought of losing you in any way affects me. I feel every minute of every hour you are not here, the mere thought is extremely disheartening and unpleasant. Is it possessive? Obsessive? Absolutely fucking mental? I couldn’t care less. I love my wife and I want her around forever. Y/n I put my heart off my sleeve into your hands and that’s the only place I want it to be.”

It left her speechless that he was in such turmoil, she felt so bad for being so insensitive towards him earlier she even refused to apologise, “Rupert” she said meekly, unable to hold his gaze she kissed him and shut her eyes. Deepened and passion filled kiss, with his arms enlacing her waist he brought her to his lap. “I am so so sorry, I feel like a jerk. I had no idea you had such overwhelming dread of losing me I am truly very sorry I joked like that-“

“You couldn’t have known unless I tell you, it’s not your fault.” Rupert reassured her instantly holding her closer to himself.

“I should have known. I can’t be this careless when I am holding your heart in my hands.” She spoke cupping his face to bring it closer to place a soft peck on. “Now that I know better I wouldn’t be so difficult with jokes, you are not losing me in any sense, in any way, ever. Life may be unpredictable but we will be inherently together to witness it I promise you.”

“My darling girl” he intertwined his fingers through her hair as he kissed her again and the bliss of beautifully heavy feelings and a perfect promise rounded them.

—

Brothers and kings, it is 5:48 am I just wrote this…staying up…I can hear the milk man and our neighbours waking up…I have no g1rl left in me you can call me dude

Also please I’ve made this with a lot of will and CRAZY efforts please please please leave a comment I would love to wake up to pls pls pls if you hate this piece I will kms

[fairlyabookie]

Their Heart to You

Author's note: How they confess

Content: fluff

Leona finds courting a tedious process; he grew up watching his older brother courting a partner, getting married, and eventually, have a kid, whom he considered a handful. He had seen what love can bring first hand and often was asked about his love life by his brother. 

Most of the time, he hated these nosy questions, shouldering them off with a vague statement so they won’t be asked again. Leona told himself not to have his judgment be clouded by love - he had to make sure he had a clear and sound mind, enough to make adequate decisions and see to it that things get done. He casts his worries and other frivolous things to the side, focusing on nothing but himself and his academics for the time being. 

Admittedly, he didn’t think of you as a distraction per se; rather, he considered you as an equal, your strengths and weaknesses comprising your overall character. Sure, he entertained the thought of courting you, his thoughts meandering to your silhouette, your hubris around him, the poise you carried yourself; no doubt Leona found you entertaining. 

Love, a fickle thing, embodied itself in his time with you, listening to your words as you spoke to him with determined eyes; his honesty abundant, he was more than willing to give - though, executing his ‘love’ would be difficult. Matter of fact, he was clueless. 

As for courting you, he preferred to keep such sentiments and wait for the opportune moment to speak his peace. A watchful predator eyeing his prey, he waits until you’re by yourself to tell you, his charm, his authenticity. 

The Leech twin had a couple tricks up his sleeve when it came to wooing you: he won’t say that these notions would charm you, but rather, appeal to you on his interests and hopefully, have you show your interests to him as well. He greatly valued his friendship with you, often looking forward to seeing you as the day’s passing and wanting to speak to you on occasion.

He’d be subtle in his affections; often engaging in unprofessional behavior, as quoted from Azul and his own twin brother, to see you satisfied. Of course, he had to pull some strings to ensure you had a positive experience with him, after all, you’re the one toying with his heart. 

 To quote Azul, Jade would be a handful, as love captivated him like a spell. At times, the Dorm Leader would begrudgingly let Jade take the task so he can see you. Even at the sight of you, Azul knew not to impede Jade’s advances. In other words, Azul and Floyd would play Jade’s wingmen, regardless if they like it or not. 

Jade had his own ways of wooing, unorthodox methods an average one would say, where he’d plan on potential dates with just you and him and with no interruptions. He’d keep his cool, knowing very well that he can achieve his goal in conveying his feelings outright.  

If one can be honest, Jade had realized his feelings for a while; he yearned, he needed, he wanted to have your heart. Such feelings, he hoped, can come across you once the timing was right. He hated how heavy his heart weighed with such sentiments, yet alas, he hoped he played his cards well for this moment.

They say that the best way to steal one’s heart is through their stomach, and Trey took that personally. He knew everyone’s tastes, including yours. On that note, he’d make sure to bake your favorites when you had a bad day or when you had a craving. 

 The third year regarded you as a friend at first, but he found himself thinking about you when it came to baking, pouring his heart into this piece, gentle hands carving a delicacy that he and you can enjoy in private. 

Trey may not be good with his words, but he can think of something sweeter, something you’d like from his expertise. Sure, writing down his feelings would work, but he’d stick with his skills: baking.��

He’d spend hours doing trial and error with recipes, pouring in particular ingredients to see what would be the perfect taste for your pastry, careful not to ruin the surprise when he’d present this cake to you. His feelings towards you, initially a nuisance, came forth as a blessing as he spent more time working on this pastry and spending time with you. 

Love, as corny as it can be, seemingly made his works a tad bit sweeter. He can fathom the taste, a delicious warmth that enveloped him like a hug. Did he manage to achieve the perfect cake? He thinks to himself, satisfaction tugging at the corner of his lips. Trey couldn’t wait to have you taste it.

[babybearnation]

learning to cook native dishes so the drivers feel home when they're away from traveling so much? Anyone u would like

i chose 4 random drivers that i hadn't written for in this event yet so i hope you enjoy my choices! also its implied that reader isn't the same nationality as each driver so apologies if that doesn't work for you!

gn!reader

esteban ocon:

it wasn't often that you dealt with a homesick esteban, but it broke your heart every time you did because he didn't deserve to look so sad and miserable

after the french grand prix was removed from the f1 calendar, you knew that it'd be hard on him, and sure enough, it was - your kind words and tender touches could only keep the sadness from him for so long

so, using your cooking expertise, you tried out some french recipes until you were sure that you'd perfected the ones you liked most but you weren't 100% sure you'd done well and you wouldn't be until esteban tried it

when esteban next had that sad, homesick look in his eyes, you decided to surprise him with the dinner and dessert dishes you'd been practicing in your own time

to say esteban was shocked would be an understatement - he was so happy and thankful that you'd thought of something so sweet to try and cheer him up with

and when he told you the food tasted almost exactly like his mum's cooking, you couldn't help yourself from crying, relieved that you had helped him, even if just a little bit

pepe marti:

you never liked it when pepe got homesick - his usual bubbly spirit became so supressed and diffused and he often found it hard to speak when he got stuck in a homesick rut

it always made your heart ache and you weren't sure what to do at first until you spoke to a fellow driver's partner about what they did and they answer they gave you made you feel renewed

you knew from your many late night conversations what pepe's favourite spanish foods were so you set about making them for him when he next came over

you weren't super confident in your ability to make the food taste exactly like it would in spain, but you knew it would taste good regardless

pepe didn't even register the food at first until he took the first bite and a familiar myriad of flavours burst to life on his tongue

he crossed the table after that and hugged you so tight, voice shaky as he thanked you over and over for being so sweet, kind and considerate

nyck de vries:

the gaps between formula e races were usually long enough to allow nyck to go home and avoid feeling homesick but every now and then, that tough, stomach-squirmy feeling appeared and it ruined his mood every single time

you hated it - you missed your sweet boyfriend and his bright smile and cheerful humour. you'd do anything to get it back and you meant anything

that's why you knew you had to fix this and during a conversation one night, nyck let slip the name of a dutch dish he'd been craving

you got to work that same night, researching the recipe and checking your pantry for ingredients - you were missing a few items but it was nothing a quick trip to the grocery store couldn't fix

when nyck asked what was for dinner the next night and you said a surprise, he wasn't sure what it was gonna be but when you served up the food and he saw the exact dish he'd been craving, nyck's heart melted

he thanked you and kissed your hand before digging into his food, perking up when it tasted exactly like the food he ate growing up - he really couldn't believe how sweet you were sometimes

sebastian vettel:

sebastian couldn't control how he felt - every single win made him sicker and sicker. he wanted to go home and eat his mum's food, but he couldn't

you saw his mood drop and decided to message his mum, asking her for a recipe that would make sebastian happy - and you got it!

you knew sebastian would come over to your place for dinner every friday night (when he wasn't racing) and so you planned to cook up his mother's recipe for the next friday to pass

when friday came to be, you were so anxious and nervous that it only took one second for sebastian to notice but you refused to tell him the truth and insisted upon eating dinner together

he entered the kitchen and instantly recognised the food, his face morphing into a gentle pout as he realised what you'd done for him

he launched himself at you after that and thanked you a billion times over until you told him to eat before the food got cold - that got him off of you.. for like.. two minutes haha

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[meanbossart]

wrt cannibalism ask: i wonder if drow has really met any druids other than halsin? regular non-evil druids do eco-terrorism, hunt/eat/wear animals, and admire nature's unflinching cycle of violence too. Especially when it comes to nature being a perfect self-sustaining machine -- i feel like drow just misunderstands what druid philosophy is like, because he has more in common with the average druid than he realises

(idk if you care haha i'm just the local druid enjoyer)

No no no, you are extremely correct LOL

DU drow's worldview was shaped by the loudest, simplest portion of the population. Progressive views and social tolerance are kind of wasted on someone whose entire spiel is running a murder cult, so he easily and readily absorbed and regurgitated every common stereotype and derogatory joke. These were beliefs he found easy to buy into since he himself met very little kindness growing up and otherwise did not have very much exposure to people in general, even as an adult.

This is also why, in his canon reformed story-line, he so easily forms friendly acquaintanceships with people he meets regardless of race - because his assumptions are baseless, and he finds himself liking people of all kinds more than he thought he ever could (just look at how much he likes Jaheira), even if he keeps attributing that fondness to passing amusement or the odd exception to a rule

But, of course, for every person he gets along with there are two or four that he does not, for reasons that go from the justifiable to the totally imaginary. And whenever he meets someone he doesn't like, he immediately tries to tacking that onto a larger picture - their upbringing, their status, their friends, their expertise, their race. It's most likely that the handful of other druids he met were like Halsin, and if he ever met ones that saw eye-to-eye with him exactly he didn't give them the time of day. Not to mention he doesn't exactly give Halsin the time of day either, he just assumes his views are inferior to his own because of the man's nature, no pun intended.

I'm sure there are other things that he and pockets of druidic society would disagree strongly on, maybe they do still see things differently at their core for X or Y reason, but the main problem is definitely more so what was described above