#something something he still becomes his ONLY FLEDGLING

[hoomanbeaning]

n.m.sanchez's initial meeting

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

I'm always interested in analyses that portray a romanced Solas as a predatory hee hee trickster god manipulating a young and impressionable Lavellan into falling for him and if that's your world state go ahead and live your truth b/c it's frankly none of my business, but I sincerely think there are those who forget that for a lot of people, a romanced Lavellan is (with all due respect to my own Solasmancing Inquisitor Rielle Lavelllan) batshit crazy. Having her boyfriend turn out to be a wolf god is honestly the least of her problems but oh boy is she unafraid to become one to fix this mess.

This is a woman who woke up in a dungeon with a glowing hand, figured out she could fix the world, and thought "fuck it, it's not like I'll have anything else better to do if Corypheus sticks around. Also. Everyone here kind of looks like they want to kill me, so maybe I'll stick with the protective powers that be for a minute." And then all of five seconds later she gets her hand snatched by a sketchy elven apostate who knows exactly what to do with her shiny new powers and cannot stop himself from having a Mr. Darcy level hand-flex after he lets it go (in my heart and soul this happens just out of the camera's gaze) and goes "hmm maybe there's something to be said for this world saving thing."

This is a woman who brought an entire fucking avalanche down on herself and three of her closest friends (and I do mean closest as in physical proximity, she doesn't know these people who are looking at her like she's Thedas' Next Top Idol) because even if it killed her it was the proper middle finger to send to the wannabe god bringing his army tap-dancing down the mountain pass towards her on the one night she had scheduled off to celebrate finally taking a W.

This is a woman going Take 2 Electric Boogaloo on waking up with no idea where she is and learning she was successful in spite-dragging herself up a different fucking mountain in a blizzard. Except now everyone is fighting wait nope now they're Kumbaya-ing a song Andraste's Herald should really probably be familiar with whoops, oh thank God, time for a side convo with the same apostate who's been trying to turn her entire life into a history class only for her to dive in headfirst (much to his initial abject horror) and get that good good discourse she needs since she can't go around arguing with everyone else like she wants to. "The orb is ours." You know what? Of course it is. But if they need the world saved from an elven oopsie, who better to right things than an elf? Fuck it, we ball.

This is a woman who misses being close to nature and goes positively feral at Skyhold, yeeting herself over balconies and banisters and turning the ancient fortress into her personal parkour playground because she's got energy to work off and shit to do, and if the path of least resistance to hunt down everyone she needs to talk to is coincidentally the same path that will absolutely wreck her knees by the time she's sixty, that's just how it has to be.

This is a woman who finds herself back at Haven with a man she's found it possible to be unfetteringly unabashedly herself with and thinks, "hey, maybe there could be more than the flirations we've exchanged over heated discussions and philosophical deep-dives, maybe I can have just one smooch as a treat." And when she feels her slowly unfurling passion reciprocated only to be shut down? She resolves herself to fight for this fledgling love and all the fade tongue that comes with it. This is a woman who gets the tiniest glimpse of what a retirement plan might look like after this whole saving the mortal world thing and buys all the way in.

This is a woman who has Grey Wardens to save from themselves, an empire trying to self-cannibalize, and still finds the time to go rescue a spirit because she, as a fellow comrade caught up in this mess, knows damn well that no innocent deserves to suffer if she can help it while she's got this insane amount of power she never asked for. And if that happens to lead to the man she feels safe enough to nap on the library couches with confessing at last the feelings she knows he's been smothering beneath his all-too-collected surface? Yeah, she'll take that W.

This is a woman who gets absolutely blasted head-over-ass into the fade and goes "honestly things were going a little TOO well." This is a woman who sneaks a peak at the closest fears of the companions she's come to know and love and goes "not on my fucking watch." This is a woman who sees that the man she forces herself to learn the old language for, her vhenan, fears being alone more than anything in the entire knowing world and resolves herself to ensuring it never comes to pass.

This is a woman who gets the opportunity to shape the government of a straight up country and runs around collecting wooden fucking halla in a palace full of elven servants with no time to dwell on that particularly cruel irony because out here it's scheme or be schemed. This a woman who collapses against a balcony railing after putting out some of the sickest literal and metaphorical dance moves The Game has ever seen, resigned to bear her ever-increasing burdens alone, only to find her heart and his horrible horrible hat extending a hand, promising her that if he is not alone, then neither is she.

Like, do you feel me here?

And then he dares to think something as sudden and damning as the truth is enough to keep her away? The queen of tough conversations and tougher choices? No, no, dear readers who have made it this far into my descent into madness.

Inquisitor Lavellan is a master-class in encouraging the odds against her to fuck around and find out. She is a rift-mending false-god-bashing politcally savvy terror upon all of Thedas. Solas (and all of the living breathing world) is lucky she took time out of her busy schedule to notice the way his smile softens when talking about spirits or appreciate the fluidity of his form when they're obliterating venatori out in the field. This man cradled her cheeks in his shaking hands, looked into weary and wide eyes and called her beautiful, and had the audacity to steal her heart before trying to peace out and take it with him.

If she's got to track down a real god this time and frog march him into the fade to reclaim both her heart and the future she fought for because all he wants to do is launch himself like a meteor towards achieving his greatest fear, if she has to spend hours lecturing him on the sheer audacity of his ass while spirits float by and realize they're grateful they never had the chance to take on a body and subject themselves to a verbal lashing this brutal, if she has to do cartwheels around him while dropping all sorts of sweet nothings in the language she is now quite proficient in until he gets it through his luminous gleaming skull that when she said "var lath vir suledin" my girl meant it? Then that's what she's going to do.

"I wish it could, vhenan."

Oh it's going to, buddy. Buckle up to get wrecked, to get absolutely loved and cherished you fool, because Inquisitor Lavellan is not the Dread Wolf's prey, she's his hunter.

[gallusrostromegalus]

I haven't seen any dog stories in a while. How are Charleston and The Hanukkah Goblin doing?

Dog updates!

The first one is a little sad, but also how life should go. Arwen is 14 now and while she's still moving, eating, pooping and generally enjoying life, she also has canine dementia and sundown syndrome where she gets extremely nervous and her dementia gets worse after dark. She'll be with us for a while yet, but it's something we have to manage now.

One person who is very much helping her manage is Herschel. My parents are traveling a lot while they still have the knees for it so I spend a lot of time up at their house, and Charleston and Herschel come up too. Being a Corgi, Herschel likes to manage things, and Arwen would like someone to manage things for her so he's become her self-appointed guide dog.

When I call the dogs for food or outside, he goes and finds her deaf ass and herds her to the location. Normally she doesn't go outside after dark but when the boys are there she's willing to wait for Charlie to chase away anything that might be lurking out there, and then follow Herschel's ass around the yard at night.

Very literally.

She's also got cataracts forming and I think his bright white backside is easy for her to see in the dark, so she follows it around.

During daytime walks she sees well enough but neither she nor Charlie are fans of strange off-leash dogs running up to them (a regrettably common problem out here. I don't care if your dog is friendly MINE ARE NOT!), so both of them prefer to walk half a pace behind Herschel so his more socially adept and knife-filled face is out front to intercept any unwanted solicitors. This does tend to give people the opposite impression though- because he is so much shorter, Herschel gives the impression of a tiny, charming mafioso flanked by his two large and surly bodyguards.

Like, they absolutely would kill a bear for him.

But Charlie and Arwen would also try to kill a bear on general principle.

At night, when Arwen barks at shadows, Herschel runs up and stand between her and the alleged menace, and does his best to look large and intimidating and for as silly as he looks, he does have a very good growl. After a moment, when the alleged bear or congressman or other horror fails to appear, he will stick his nose into the offending shadow, and finding nothing, be satisfied that their joint effort has successfully chased the problem off, and report back to her. This, more than anything else, seems to alleviate Arwen 's fears.

I guess we all just need someone to take us seriously when we're frightened.

Charleston, meanwhile, has gotten into giving safari tours of the front range's small vertebrates.

After eight years of managing his exceptionally high prey drive, something clicked earlier this summer and instead of immediately lunging his whole face at any approximately bite-sized animal in an attempt to expedite it's journey into his stomach, Charlie has started *pointing* at things until I come look at them and tell him he's a good boy. This started with a mole, something he'd never seen before and that moves above ground in a strange way, so he wasn't sure about eating it, so he only alerted at it. "GOOD BOY!" I shouted, giving him all the cuddles. "GOOD SPOT! GOOD JOB NOT EATING IT!"

It's important to reward behavior you want to see.

Since then, he's been trying out pointing at small creatures in the grass and then making very pointed eye contact with me until I come look at them. This is a little tricky when walking both dogs because Herschel is still very much in his "inhale wildlife" phase, but usually I can lock the little gremlin's leash and go look at whatever Charlie has cornered while Herschel attempts to develop telekinesis to will the critter into his mouth.

So far, Charleston has found: a baby rabbit, several baby rabbits in a cluster, an adult rabbit with Jackalope virus, several voles, several moles, a fledgling owl, only the two mice, several mouse-sized grasshoppers and cicada, someone's pet rat (the person was searching within earshot and 'Socks' was collected forthwith), a beanie baby that had me fooled for a hit minute too, a marmot which I didn't know lived down here, a groundhog which I didn't know lived up here, a mink, so many toads, a wild turkey chick, so many more garter snakes and last night, an aquatic shrew.

I don't know if there's an Audubon Society for small things that scuttle around in the undergrowth, but I am inclined to join solely to get Charleston recognition for his service in surveying them.

[mushgloomz]

Modern Love

dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

• A/N: you asked and i shall provide. presenting my new magnum opus, dbf!Joel x reader slow burn realness - i want this shit to last, so it will be a series (apologies if you were hoping for a one-off, i can't bring myself to do it). also probs good to mention that this is a shameless self-insert fic bc us british girlies need some JM love okay? title and chapters inspired by 80s songs bc i'm insatiable.

• Warnings: no outbreak au, language, alcohol consumption, pet names, reader is afab, british and has hair - no other physical descriptions (and the british thing is only mentioned in passing dw).

• Word Count: approx 2.5k

1: Let’s Hear It for the Boy

You pottered around the kitchen, the countertops left messy in your wake; you weren’t a baker by any stretch of the imagination, but you’d tasked yourself off with making a birthday cake. If it came out edible, you’d gladly consider it a successful endeavor.

It wasn’t your birthday, nor your father’s - ever since your parents’ divorce and your father’s subsequent mid-life crisis move to the States, you’d lived with your dad in Austin, Texas. Both of you had been there for the best part of six years. You’d visit your mother back in the UK periodically, usually over the summer, and return just in time for the neighbourhood’s favourite celebration: Joel Miller’s birthday BBQ.

Joel and your father had become fast friends; meeting at a trader’s warehouse by chance, and bonding over their appreciation for a cold one in front of the TV. Both men were reserved by nature and were single fathers to their kids - that being yourself and Sarah, Joel’s daughter.

You ducked your head, peeking into the oven to check on the progress of your passion project. Nothing looked burnt as far as you could see and, much to your surprise, a pleasant smell was emanating from the cake tins and wafting around the kitchen.

When your father had asked why you were so insistent on making a cake for his best friend, you fell short of an answer. The reality was that, since you’d known him, Joel had been at the centre of near enough every fantasy you’d had. He was hot, funny, and surprisingly kind given his reputation for being a bit of a grouch.

You’d almost developed a sort of secondary friendship with Joel, branching off from that of him and your father. He’d ask for you to ‘babysit’ Sarah for him, even though she was sixteen and arguably more capable at taking care of herself than you were. A fledgling friendship grew between her and yourself each time you visited; letting her talk about the drama at her highschool.

Another ten minutes passed before you finally conceded and opened the oven door, a waft of steam hitting your face as you did so. From what you could see and smell, the labour of love had been successful. You pulled the tins from the rack, and set them on the side to cool. You’d deal with them later - now, it was time for you to get yourself sorted.

You hopped into the shower, rinsing batter from the ends of your hair, scrubbing at every inch of your body. Despite the painfully obvious fact that Joel Miller was not the kind of man to date someone half his age, you preened and polished yourself until you were silky smooth and quite literally glowing - you opted to live in hope, after all.

After your shower you traipsed into your room, slumping onto your bed, still wrapped in a towel. You scrolled through your phone aimlessly, reading through messages that you'd been sent whilst you'd been distracted by your newfound baking talent.

tell the DILF I say happy birthday ;)

The message from your best friend back in the UK elicited a small laugh. There was something pleasantly nostalgic about tittering over someone entirely unattainable; it reminded you of being back at school, taking it in turns to gush over whatever boyband member took your fancy at the time.

Enjoy the party today, don't make a tit of yourself xx

Your mother knew you all too well. In all fairness, she had dealt with the consequences of your drunken teenage years most of the time, so it made sense. You scrolled through a few more generic messages; the work group-chat, a discount code from some mailing list, and...

Excited to see you kid :)

Oh. Oh. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Joel was excited to see you. He probably sent the same message to several other people, but you relished in the attention nonetheless. If anything, it spurred you on to finally get dressed and get back to the cake downstairs.

You slipped on a summer dress; it was light and airy, perfect for the brutally hot weather. It was ankle length, a soft pink and white paisley-style print over the soft cotton, and a split to the thigh over the right leg. It hugged where it needed to, and honestly? You looked fucking fantastic.

Trotting down the stairs and back into the kitchen, you groaned under your breath. The mess that you'd made whilst baking was worse when you saw it with fresh eyes. The cakes were cooled now on the wire rack that you had left them on; your dad would just have to dodge the splodges of batter and eggshell scattered across the countertops.

After a futile attempt at decorating, you gazed down at the cake. How you'd managed to cock up the icing this much was beyond you, but it would have to do. Your dad was waiting impatiently by the front door, grumbling under his breath, a six pack of beers and a card tucked under his arm. You grabbed the cake, wrapped it in tinfoil, and headed out, balancing it on a platter as you and your father made the short walk to the Miller household.

It was only a few minutes before you'd arrived, stepping up onto the porch behind your father, allowing him to knock whilst your hands were full. A moment passed, and then the door opened. A wide grin and sparkling brown eyes revealed themselves; a charcoal grey t-shirt clung to tan arms. It took all of your self-restraint to not gawp every time you saw Joel - he just got better and better.

Joel clapped a hand on your father's shoulder, mumbling something and essentially shoving him through the threshold of the door. Then his eyes turned to yours, glancing quickly down at the tinfoil wrapped cake in your hands, before speaking with a chuckle.

"Run outta wrapping paper, huh kid?"

You felt your cheeks warm. "Bold of you to assume this is for you, huh Joel?", you quipped teasingly. Much to your delight, your retort elicited another gravelly chuckle from the man. He leant against the doorframe, and you raised an eyebrow, trying not to stare at his bicep. "Well, are you gonna invite me in?", you questioned with a smirk. Joel stood upright, shrugging playfully as he did so.

"'Spose I'd better. Go on, get your ass inside kid."

The giggle that escaped your mouth was entirely involuntary as you ducked under Joel's arm and into the house. A fair few people were milling around indoors, but a majority of the guests were situated in the backyard. You made your way through the back door after perching the cake on the kitchen table.

A few people turned and gave polite waves when you stepped outside, others started their beeline toward you to exchange mundane pleasantries - ‘you’re looking very well!’, and ‘how’s that job of yours?’, and the dreaded ‘have you found a nice boy yet?’. You rinsed and repeated your answers for each person, smiling politely.

Sarah was sat on the grass with a friend; your father was swigging from a bottle of beer and laughing animatedly amongst a group of middle-aged men. Your heart nearly leapt of your chest when someone tapped you on the shoulder, causing you to spin around quickly, eyes wide. Tommy Miller, Joel’s younger brother, stood with a smug grin plastered over his face.

“Well ain’t this a surprise? Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a drink in your hand at these get-togethers.”

You scoffed, feigning offence at the all too real accusation. “Big talk for a man that isn’t offering to get me a drink”, you retorted, smirking. Tommy threw his hands up, palms toward you in mock defense, laughing.

“Whoa now! I’m a fine southern gentleman, ‘course I’ll get you a drink. All you had to do was ask, doll.”

The conversations you had with Tommy consisted of little more than playful flirting; sometimes you wondered if he was actually flirting with you, but seeing how he acted around women he was actively trying to pick up resolved any doubts. Any fire and sass was quelled, and he would become almost meek and reserved - the embodiment of flushed cheeks and a coy smile. It was nice being able to know where you stood with him, especially since you didn’t have a fucking clue when it came to Joel.

~~~~

As the hours passed and alcohol swilled around the mouths of every adult in sight, the polite affair that was once a celebratory BBQ had devolved into a raucous cacophony of laughter as a very drunk Joel lured everyone inside the house, stumbling as he went. You were drunk, but not to the same degree; with everyone settled inside, you decided it was the ideal moment to bring out the cake.

You peeled the tinfoil from the confection, grimacing slightly as you looked at it once more - even with beer goggles, it still looked akin to a toddler’s cooking class attempt rather than a 50 year old man’s birthday cake. You stuck a single candle in the centre and used the lighter you had stolen from Tommy earlier that afternoon to light it, before lifting it carefully and carrying it toward the lounge.

As you entered you nodded once at your dad, who was just sober enough to understand your signal, and started to lead the group into a pitchy chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’. You grinned as you walked over to where Joel was sat, setting the cake down on the coffee table in front of him before backing up, snapping a photo of the birthday boy as he held a hand to his chest, a soft smile on his face. He looked at you as he leant down to blow out his candle, mouthing ‘thank you’ before blowing out the flame.

“Y’all sure know how to make a man feel like one lucky son of a bitch. Thanks for comin’ everyone.”

Joel chuckled, smiling widely as he spoke. You glanced at the faces around you; the single women of the neighbourhood doting on his every word, a couple of the married ones too. Your dad held up his beer, calling for a cheers. Picking up your own bottle, you held it up in Joel’s direction, beaming at him as others held up their own drinks.

People began to engage in their own conversations again, shifting and mingling amongst themselves as more drinks were poured. Joel sidled up beside you, standing over you as you cut slices of cake.

“You make this yourself, sweetheart? Just for me?”

Heart thumping in your chest, cheeks burning, you nodded with a shy smile. Before you could raise the knife again, a thick finger swept up some of the icing on the cake’s border. You turned around and watched as Joel put the same finger in his mouth, shooting you a wink as he pulled the digit out with a satisfying pop. He leant in close, so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath melding with his cologne.

“Mm. Tastes as good as you look in that pretty lil’ dress.”

Like a fish out of water, your mouth dropped open ever so slightly and you inhaled sharply. Before you could even comprehend what had just happened, Joel had turned away, shouting out to someone setting up karaoke by the television. Did that really just happen? You must have been hearing things, surely? You considered pouring the rest of your drink away, but fuck it; if you were hearing things like that, it would be worth the hangover.

Karaoke was a shambles, as expected. This wasn't the first birthday BBQ that Joel had relished in the karaoke machine being dragged out - despite his usually very collected exterior, he loved to sing, especially once he had a few drinks in him. It was never the song choice you'd expect someone like him to go for either - the man had a soft spot for 80s music and always requested a power ballad.

Perched on the arm of the sofa, you had a front row seat to Joel's latest performance; in fact, you were one of the few people actually paying any attention. It felt like he was singing to you, the way he crooned the words to 'Don't Dream It's Over', his eyes glancing over your form every once in a while. God, he was gorgeous.

The song concluded and you couldn't resist snapping another photo of the man as he took a swig from his bottle in front of you. It was one of the few occasions that you could get away with it, under the guise of taking them for memory's sake. Joel caught you, and smirked as he lowered his bottle.

Your dress had slipped from one of your shoulders a tad, and before you could lift it once more, Joel had stepped forward. He took the soft cotton between his fingers, letting the tips of them graze your shoulder ever so gently as he slowly shifted it back into place. Your eyes were wide, gazing up at him, your tongue swiping over your bottom lip just so. Joel hummed, low and rumbling, barely audible.

"Sweet girl... better keep that tongue in your mouth 'fore I forget who I am."

Swallowing hard, mouth running dry... did he actually just say that? Did he mean to say it in such a sultry tone? "I-I, uh...", your response was unintelligible at best as you stumbled over the flurry of thoughts in your head. The lounge had since cleared out; Joel chuckled softly under his breath. With a tender touch, he raised a hand to your cheek; a calloused thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

Your lips parted slightly as your breath caught in your throat. Every beat of your heart reverberated in your head. Joel leaned down, still smirking, as he pressed his lips against yours. A breathy gasp left your lips as his moved firmly against yours for just a few moments. He pulled away sooner than you had wanted, leaving you sat there with your chest rising and falling heavily.

Joel's jaw clenched and he scrunched his eyes shut as he stood in front of you, dragging a hand down his face with a sigh. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like an apology, shaking his head ever so slightly, before he turned to leave. You watched as he left the room, stomach turning all the while. Nausea rose up inside you, and as you made a sprint for the bathroom, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was your fault he had responded in such a way. Shit.

[deecotan]

🌱 Deeco's ZoSan Fic Rec List 🐥

Hello hello! This is going to be a slight rework for my zosan fic rec list, because I wanted to re-organize it and add some new fics while I'm at it, so this is going to be longer than the first. Feel free to check it out!

Latest update: November 2023

Because I started making this list long before August 2023, I won't add any fics that specifically take place in live-action setting because I haven't read much of them yet. I might consider updating this list to add fics with live-action setting in the future.

—GEN/T FICS

Sketches of Life (and Love) by Fledgling (Teen, 2.9k)

An exploration of a headcanon where Sanji likes to draw in his free time. This fic always leaves me with a warm feeling every time I read it because how endearingly sweet it is. It’s basically a domestic fluff story about both ZoSan and the Strawhats crew in general.

green with envy blues by adietxt (Gen, 1.5k)

A cute fic about Zoro being jealous. Jealous!Zoro has been one of those tropes that make me screech like a feral animal every time I come across it and this fic does exactly that. It’s pretty short and simple but it captures the characters very well. It’s set during pre-timeskip which makes it even better to me because pre-TS Zoro possesses that boyish quality that post-TS Zoro doesn’t necessarily have anymore.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Fuck, Marry, Kill (or, how Usopp becomes the best matchmaker of the sea without really trying) (Teen, 4.8k) — Usopp introduces the Strawhats to a game that ends up causing Sanji to overthink things - a lot of things.

Old Men Blues by postmoderne (Gen, 2k)

Quoting directly from the fic’s summary, “Sanji and Zoro: two ancient fucks (in love).” because this is exactly that, a story about old men ZoSan. Old Zoro and old Sanji are both still as stubborn as ever and it’s endearing. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Something Golden (Teen, 1.6k) — Canon reimagining where Zoro met Sanji at the Baratie pre-series.

Meet me under the orange tree by candelina (Gen, 3.9k)

A canon divergence AU where Zoro and Sanji met as kids, as Zeff opened up Baratie in Zoro’s hometown. It’s an adorable and heartwarming story of little Zoro and little Sanji’s friendship. There’s also a part two which is also worth reading. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The whole world will know (2.3k) — Old men ZoSan fic, this one involves Zoro deliberately showing himself to the Marines for god knows what. It’s sweet, it’s beautiful, and it shows that Zoro is as reckless and idiotic as he is a loving, devoted husband.

Zoro’s Boyfriend, Who Lives In Canada by donutsandcoffee (Gen, 2.6k)

Modern AU, where Zoro’s friends try to stop him from believing that his imaginary, totally made-up boyfriend actually exists. Of course Zoro’s boyfriend doesn’t actually exist, because with the way Zoro describes him he’s way too perfect to exist and how can anyone so perfect actually exist? A hilarious story of misunderstandings.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Prison Blues (Teen, 2.8k) and it’s a long way forward (Teen, 5k) — serve as both a ZoSan story and a great Sanji character study. 

The Three of Swords by 8ball (Teen, 30k, multi-chapters & completed)

A medieval AU with knight Zoro and prince Sanji, a concept that starts to really grow on me after I begin to read this fic. In this story, Zoro is a cursed knight appointed to serve Sanji, a kind-hearted prince whom Zoro eventually pines over. It’s a beautiful take of prince and knight AU; devoted knight Zoro is something that I didn’t know I need. It also has a sequel.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The Ocean's Child series — a canon-divergence mermaid!Sanji AU

(I Want) Someone to Love Me by three_days_late (Teen, 7.9k)

Sanji is about to turn 17, so he hopes that he can get his first kiss before that. A cute high school AU that involves everyone wanting to kiss Sanji (honestly, who doesn’t) but only one person gets to actually do it.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Blood Red (Teen, 400 words) — this might be a little biased because this fic is inspired by my comic, but it’s also a perfectly good reason why I must add it here; this fic is able to capture the spirit of the comic perfectly. If you want to read a short exposition of Zoro showing his darker, yet protective side, then this fic is worth the read. Warning for blood & hints of violence. The Christmas Swap (Teen, 37k, multi-chapters & completed) — a modern AU in which Sanji and Reiju switch partners during Christmas so they can attend their family gathering without having to come out as queer. It’s a wonderful story about family, relationships, and the struggles of maintaining those things as a queer person. The Only Way Out (Is Through) (Teen, 4.8k) — a beautiful Prince Sanji and Knight Zoro story, where circumstances forced them to separate & unable to be together. It also has a side Nami/Vivi. I Have Loved You for 1000 Years (I'll Love You for 1000 More) (Teen, 8.9k) — Another Prince Sanji & Knight Zoro AU involving time travel & the sacrifices you go through for the ones you love.

Curly Angel by APTX & translated to English by NMTD (Teen, 9.4k, two chapters & completed)

In this alternative canon universe, everyone has a guardian angel, and Zoro’s just happened to be Sanji. Hilarity ensues.

Let me be your Inspiration by TheWanderers (Teen, 19.8k)

College AU where Sanji is an artist/painter - another fic that explores Sanji as someone with an artistic streak, but also so much more. It’s a beautiful story that starts out with Zoro having to model for Sanji’s painting but ends up falling in love with him. I love the way the author adapts the characters’ canon backstory into this universe.

Retrogade by Hazel_Athena (Teen, 21.9k, two-chapters & completed)

Sanji got badly injured after a fight, and ends up losing a big chunk of memories - it doesn’t bother him too much until he notices how weird Zoro starts to act around him. A really good temporary amnesia fic with some really delicious pining!Zoro material. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Medieval ZoSan series — a medieval arranged marriage AU. Renegade Queen (Teen, 76k, multi-chapters & completed) — a canon divergent AU where Sora lives and takes all her children with her - it's more of a Vinsmoke family story with ZoSan on the side.

Nothing Happened (Gen, 16k, multi-chapters & completed)

An angsty survival story where the Strawhats get stranded in a middle of the seas with no means to escape and rapidly declining food stock. This fic does a really good job at keeping you in suspense, and the way it handles Zoro and Sanji's relationship destroyed me emotionally. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Each A Love Song (Gen, 8.6k) — Sanji is frustrated because Zoro’s surprisingly popular with women when he doesn’t even like them back. A story of a confused Sanji trying to find love and being the World’s Most Oblivious Man. Three Blades (Gen, 5k) — a Western AU where Sanji is a saloon owner and Zoro is a bounty hunter.

The Melody of Missing You by BleuReivers (Teen, 11k)

Zoro is forced to confront his feelings in the aftermath of Sanji's departure during the Whole Cake Island arc. I love the way this story examines Zoro's softer, more vulnerable side in a painfully beautiful way, and the whole fic has this hazy, dream-like vibe that really fits with the plot.

Sick Day by Styx_in_the_mud (Teen, 1.3k)

Zoro gets sick, and Sanji takes care of him. A short sick!fic with a simple premise but very cute nonetheless.

—MATURE/EXPLICIT FICS

Deep by CharlieNozaki (Mature, 171k, multi-chapters & completed)

This is There Are Many Benefits to Being A Marine Biologist: The Fic. Okay jokes aside, this is a modern fantasy AU fic where merpeople exist and it mainly tells about marine biologist Sanji and merman Zoro. It has an interesting premise and deals with some heavy subjects in later chapters, hence the Mature tag. It has a sequel, though it's currently ongoing. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The Game — a Modern AU with slight fantasy-ish element, where Zoro and Sanji are young orphans who find a mysterious game that might be able to change their lives.

Delphinium by toastie_bread (Mature, 39k, multi-chapters & completed)

Set in modern AU, stylist Sanji meets with police detective Zoro after his beauty salon got robbed; a cute rom-com story. There's also a side LawLu.

Steady, As She Goes by auspizien (Explicit, 155k, multi-chapters & completed)

I’ve always loved auspizien’s fics and this is the one fic that made me fall in love with their writing. This is a modern AU story where Zoro is an ex-agent with PTSD who meets and befriends Sanji, a paramedic. It’s a multi-chapter fic filled with humor, angst, pining, action, and good ol’ slow-burn.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The Android Acquaintance (Explicit, 10k) — dystopian cyberpunk AU with android Sanji and bounty hunter Zoro. This fic partly inspires me to make the Blade Runner 2049 ZoSan art!

The Tribulations of Temptation by SweetyGreeny (Explicit, 18.5k)

Zoro accidentally sees Ace and Sanji doing… the do, and then spends days after that feeling shocked, confused, angry, and disappointed.  A delicious story of pining and jealous Zoro. There’s a slight AceSan in the beginning but the endgame is still ZoSan.   OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: A Siren’s Sinking Song (Teen, 12k) — a canon-divergent AU where Sanji is a siren who one day meets a peculiar swordsman from a wandering ship; this story is beautiful and I love the idea of siren!Sanji, but please note the major character death TW.  The Burden of Blondes (Explicit, 11k) — Sanji finds out that Zoro has a thing for blondes, and for some reason he feels uneasy. A fun story with some good smut, and inspired me to make an art loosely based on it.

Thy Fearful Symmetry by Harubo (Explicit, 14.3k)

A modern AU where Sanji is a tourist visiting a tiger reserve during a family vacation and Zoro is a detective investigating a poaching ring. All of Harubo’s fics are godsend but I particularly love this one because the setting reads like a perfect rom-com drama movie about a stressed, overworked chef meeting a handsome detective. There’s also a nice tidbit where the Vinsmoke siblings are trying to get along with each other.

Done Dirt Cheap by Balderdashfromafool (Explicit, 99.7k, multi-chapters & completed)

A Western ZoSan AU, where Zoro is an outlaw and Sanji is a small town chef. This one is fun and lovely, and as someone who doesn’t read a lot of Western-themed stories, I love the way the author describes the Western setting in this fic. 

The Fox's Heart by Shadowcatxx (Explicit, 32k, multi-chapters & completed)

Historical/mythological AU where fox spirit Sanji falls in love with human samurai Zoro. A pretty heavy story about forbidden romance but ends with a happy ending. The fic deals with some period-typical issues like homophobia, misogyny, sexism, and transphobia, as well as some depictions of violence and (slight) animal abuse, so please be aware of that.

Mine by burnwaywardbird (Explicit, 4k)

A pure PWP fic of Zoro “punishing” Sanji for flirting with strangers. Super kinky and involves slight dom/sub undertones. Also, while this is mostly pure PWP, this fic is technically part of a series and while can be read as a standalone, I highly recommend to read the other parts as well (especially the ones preceding this fic).

pretty sanji series (Pretty & Surprise) by kickingsanji (12.6k in total)

A series of fics exploring Sanji's femininity and Zoro discovering that he has a thing for Sanji being pretty & wearing pretty things. As a Pretty Sanji truther, I love these fics to bits, not only because it handles Sanji dealing with his insecurities when it comes to his gender expression in a gentle, respectful way, but also because the smut is very good.

All Will be Well by thecrownofclowns (Explicit, 17k)

An incredibly sad but sweet zombie apocalypse AU about Sanji trying to survive the zombie outbreak all by himself, before eventually meeting Zoro. One of my favorite hurt/comfort fics.

—OMEGAVERSE (ALPHA/BETA/OMEGA) FICS

Onigiri by himaaneko (Teen, 2.3k)

Very cute domestic family fic of Zoro, Sanji, and their son. For those who prefers a softer omegaverse with family/love-children fluff on the side, this fic is for you.

Bite Me by Shadowcatxxx (Mature, 15k, two-chapters & completed)

Sanji got attacked while he was alone on the ship, causing him to go into heat. Zoro tries to help, but not without consequences. An exposition on how Zoro and Sanji handle their dynamics, and their feelings towards each other. Please mind the tags with this one.

fever by adietxt (Explicit, 6.4k, multi-chapters & completed)

I'm pretty sure that this is the first omegaverse ZoSan story that I have ever read, and one of the best ones I've ever read for a good reason. It involves Sanji, who suddenly got into his heat, and Zoro, the first one to discover Sanji in heat and learns for the first time he's an omega. I won't spoil anything, but I can say that the ending is great, the porn is delicious, and Zoro being possessive is exquisite.

Steps of Calidity by auspizien (Explicit, 42k, multi-chapters & completed)

I'm gonna preface this by saying that the smut here is ungodly good and very, very hot - and to be perfectly honest, one of the main reasons why I like this fic so much. But the plot is just as good and has an interesting take of how omegaverse dynamics might work in a modern world. Don't forget to mind the tags as well.

Sweet by ElAlmaDelMar (Explicit, 1.8k)

Sanji starts lactating during his pregnancy; Zoro finds it very hot. This one is just straight up kinky. It's a sequel to another story but can be read as a standalone.

[yan-lorkai]

why doesn't anyone ask for something with Yandere Seras victoria x reader dear? If you can do something, please, please! I want to read something where Seras becomes obsessed with a beloved s/o and maybe Alucard supports her twisted love or believes that Seras' love is not healthy and only scares her lover, if you have time to write something like that, I will thank you very much, Otherwise ignore my request.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Seras is an interesting character for me, she's so sweet and innocent, and when twisted she can be really scary. I tried to explore this without going on too long or making this fic too boring to read. I think it worked out well. I hope you like, darling! :3

In the vast and shadowy halls of Hellsing Manor, you begin to notice that there's something different about Seras, though you can’t quite put your finger on what it is. You’ve always thought of Seras as the same sweet, strong girl, you known for so long: overprotective, affectionate, always at your side.

But lately, you’ve felt her presence a little more keenly. There’s something in the way her eyes follow your every move, her gaze tracking you with an intensity that’s hard to ignore. You tried to dismiss it as nothing more than Seras being Seras.

Still, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more behind her actions. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you start to notice the little things. Seras seems to know what you need before you do, appearing with a cup of tea just as you’re about to get up, finishing your sentences as if she’s reading your mind. It’s comforting, in a way, to have someone so attuned to your needs but there’s a part of you that wonders how she knows so much, so quickly.

She swore she would never use her powers in anyone who isn't a vampire or a ghoul. So you choose to trust her and just brushed it off as just a sign of how well Seras knows you. But as the days turn into weeks, you start to see other changes. Her presence is constant now, from the moment you woke up to the moment you're retiring to your room, she can found nearby, almost as if she's waiting. And the other Hellsing soldiers don't approach you without a good reason, not even your friends.

It’s easy to overlook these small things, to dismiss them as nothing more than Seras being silly and enjoying to scare you. But slowly, they begin to pile up, the weight of them pressing down on you. You start to feel a chill whenever she’s near, a sense of unease that you can’t quite explain. You don’t want to believe it, don’t want to think that anything could be wrong with your beloved friend.

And there’s something in her eyes — something dark, something almost predatory. You used to see this same glow on her master's eye whenever he killed, the glee to hunt, to kill, you fear it. You catch glimpses of it when you meet her gaze. It’s there, just for a moment, before she smiles that bright, innocent smile of hers, and you tell yourself you must have imagined it.

You have imagined, right? Seras isn't capable of hurting anyone, right...?

And yet, there’s a part of you that can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

Alucard watches you both from the shadows, his crimson eyes seeing what you see but cannot believe. He noticed the change in Seras, the way her aura has darkened, the way her presence has become more… persistent. He’s amused by it, in his own way, entertained by the shift in his fledgling. But he also knows the dangers of a love that turns into obsession, of a heart consumed by darkness, for he is the king of everything that is dark.

He speaks to Seras in those moments when you’re not around, when the moon is high and all good humans are sleeping, his voice a low rumble that echoes through the halls. “Do you understand what you’re feeling, Seras?” He asks, his tone a simple warning.

You’re unaware of these conversations, unaware of the tension that’s slowly building between them. Seras hesitates when he speaks to her, unsure of how to explain the hunger that has taken root in her soul, how she wants, yearns to claim you in more ways than just one. And she is left with a mix of feelings.

“I… I love them, master!” She whispers back, her voice trembling with the intensity of her emotions. Alucard’s eyes narrow, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Love, is it? Or is it something more… primal?”

Seras’ thoughts have taken a darker turn. She begins to dream of you — not the sweet, innocent dreams she used to have where she make flower crowns to you and you both share passionate kisses. Instead, she dreams of dark, twisted fantasies that leave her breathless and terrified in equal measure. She imagine what it would be like to have you to herself, to hold you so close that you couldn’t escape, to taste your fear, your love, your very essence.

You don’t see the danger, don’t feel the threat that Seras has become. To you, she’s still the bright light in the dark halls of Hellsing Manor, still the person you trust with all your heart, even if you're skittish around her.

Alucard sees the path she’s on, but he says nothing, content to watch as Seras spirals further into her own desires. Perhaps, he thinks, this is how it should be. After all, love is a powerful thing, but when twisted by darkness, it can become something even more potent. And in the world you live in, sometimes darkness is the only thing that can survive.

But one thing is certain: Seras’ love is no longer pure, no longer innocent. It’s something primal, something that could destroy everything you hold dear. Even you, if you were to reject her.

[000-pawz]

" fantasy romance tropes " bnd series masterlist °｡⋆⸜ 🪽♡🪄

coming soon!

a/n: i was listening to dawn in the adan by ichiko aoba and got inspired to start a series! i barely see any fantasy stuff on here and i'm a big lover of it so here this is :3 <3 (p.s. there won't be an order to posting! it'll be random >3<) i tried to put my own spin on these tropes, so i hope you guys look forward to them! <3

"bloom for me" - sungho x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

angel sungho x human!reader | modern-day au, forbidden love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

"sungho has been assigned to be your guardian angel, to look after you from afar, and to make sure you stay out of harm's way. the only rules? don't get too close and never interfere with true fate. but when you find yourself in a dark place, unsure of whether life is truly worth living, sungho finds himself unable to simply sit around and watch you fall apart. he wants to show you the light; even if he must sacrifice everything he has even known for it."

"night life stars" - riwoo x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

elf!riwoo x human!reader | old fantasy au, forbidden love, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers

"growing up, you've always been told to never pass the flower field in the woods and to stay far away from elf territory because everyone knows that elves are the most violent creatures in the forest. one summer, a drought spreads throughout your village, and while fetching water from a stream in the woods for your family, you end up slipping and hitting your head on a rock. when you finally wake up, your eyes immediately lock on to a pair of glimmering green ones. eyes that belong to the enemy itself."

"safest sounds"- jaehyun x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

hybrid!jaehyun x human!reader | modern-day au, hybrids & humans, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, living together

"after another tiring day at work, you're walking back to your apartment when you hear soft cries coming from an alleyway. with your undeniable curiosity, you go to find the source of sound—and much to your surprise, you find an abandoned hybrid curled up in a ball, shivering from the cold. with a promise to take him to a shelter when the sun rises, you let him come home with you so he can eat and have a warm place to sleep for the night. in the morning, though, you discover that this hybrid has already claimed you as his owner."

"seneca" - taesan x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

magic!taesan x non-magic!reader | modern-day magic, rivals to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort

"han taesan. the bane of your existence. he's been your academic rival at your boarding school ever since you transferred a few years ago, and you have despised him ever since. on your way home one day, you end up encountering some people looking for trouble. in the blink of an eye, taesan is there to help you get away, but something is off. might it be his glowing hands and eyes? no, no, no. you must only be imagining things... but taesan's threat to keep everything a secret says otherwise."

"dance on the moon" - leehan x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

mermaid!leehan x human!reader | pirate au, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, hidden love

"there's nothing more that you hate than working as a maid on this deck. your captain and crew are worse than scum and you miss home every day, but you must do as they say if you want to survive. one stormy night, the crew catches a mermaid in their net while in the pits of the sea and your captain declares to sell him on the market as soon as they reach land. but when you become tasked to watch over the poor mermaid every night, you end up promising to help him escape back to his home. maybe he could find a way to help you escape too."

"seek for warmth" - woonhak x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

vampire!woonhak x vampire!reader | vampire au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

"woonhak never asked to be a vampire; he never wanted to live a life he didn't choose and be cursed to live forever. thankfully, there's another fledgling in the coven who sees the light still shining in his undead eyes. you're there with him through the insatiable hunger and the yearning for a past he never had the chance to live, holding his hand through it all. eventually, he begins to find solace in your warmth despite his fingers being cold to the touch."

masterlist

[nomsfaultau]

The Blood God and His Fledgling

Part 1: The Window

The permanent stain upon the earth called himself The Blood God, but he had collected many names in the thousands of years he’d haunted humanity. He supposed these days he would be considered an elder vampire, though in truth ‘these days’ spanned centuries, and as of late he had rather lost track of it all. He’d been called a monster, a demon, a nightmare. In the ancient days when he’d still cared, he had forced the humans to call him a god. And before then, when he had still been human…

The last time that name had ever been spoken, it was in a hero’s dying screams. The Blood God’s humanity died with him.

The Blood God was left in his place. A menacing brute, more predator than man, his tusks long stained with the blood he drank. But where once mortals feared his presence prowling in the night, now he was nothing more than the fading memory of a nightmare. The mankind he’d haunted had lost even the whispers of stories about him, an old myth, forgotten myth, a dusty artifact abandoned and to lay where it was discarded. But The Blood God preferred to be undisturbed, anyway.

At most The Blood God moved only to feed, and even then it was delayed as long as possible until the maddening blood thirst at last overwhelmed the listless immortality it sustained. It irked him to have to move at all, that the instincts to survive plagued him still. How inconvenient he must persist, but persist he did for an immortal is good for nothing else. The Blood God fed upon the strain of wolves he’d personally domesticated, less for any concern of mortal life, and more so of convenience and a simmering misanthropic temperament born of apathy.

He didn’t concern himself much with humanity, withdrawn from a world speeding past at incomprehensible speed. Below the window he always sat at, the city grew ravenously, architecture transforming with incomprehensible materials, the world unfamiliar and lonely. But the humans rushing past were all the same, swarming ants. The faces he’d seen over the centuries had become little more than an indistinguishable blur, repetitious, dull. The predator’s eyes lazily traced the movement of his prey, but they held no interest, truly. It was only the instincts of a wretched beast, building pressure in the back of his skull telling him it had been too long since he last fed. But perhaps he could postpone another fortnight.

And then in the midst of the miasma of humanity, a beacon. A flash of familiar gold working through the crowd. Vampires healed too quickly for it to matter, but The Blood God still hadn’t lost the impulse to prod at a throbbing wound despite knowing it would still hurt. And so he carefully watched the young human with hair like a gleaming summer harvest, anticipating the second he turned and grief speared through The Blood God once more. Perhaps he could have spared The Blood God by passing out of view, but he lingered at a strange bench. Back to the window, swinging his legs a little as he waited. A type of cruelty, in its own right, to deny The Blood God a swift blow. But he was already waiting till the cessation of eternity with no relief. This throb of his long dead heart made little difference.

As if likewise impatient, the boy’s head twisted, searching. A glance at something small in his hands, a bouncing leg, and he rose. Looking around, and The Blood God braced as he turned into view. But the expected pain never came.

Because this time, it really was Theseus.

The same dancing cobalt eyes and cheekbones and jawline and eyebrows and nose and him, it was him, it was his friend.

With a rattling, choking gasp, The Blood God remembered how to breathe again. It hollowed him out like a gale, almost scorchingly invasive. His chest heaved with it, then stilled, the repetitive instinct long, long dead. His claws twitched, then pressed to his maw in wonder. Thousands of years had passed since those lips drew their last breath. The Blood God had been so worried over it at first, how he could just forget to breathe. Theseus had just teased him over it, subtly assuring him it didn’t matter. And the hero had been right, of course. So wearisome a habit, frequent and mundane, too fast to keep up with for an ancient immortal.

Mortal. Startling, The Blood God lurched to his feet, hooves splintering the floorboards. He needed to act now, before the mortal slipped through his claws. A life so fleeting- no, he could blink and Theseus would be gone again. Cobwebs lacing him to the chair snapped, dust billowing from the dragging of his wings as The Blood God lunged for the window.

The mortal was fully facing him now, talking to seemingly thin air with a familiar exacerbated ribbing that ached to not be directed to him. The vampire pressed to the shaded glass, enraptured with the vision before him. He soaked up every last detail, basking in the mortal’s image. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind. That was Theseus. His friend. The other half of his soul.

A fractured soul could not endure eternity, not alone. And now, he didn't have to be alone. This time, The Blood God wasn’t going to accept no for an answer.

Next>

[confirmeddead]

Can we take a second to reflect on the truly f*cked up intimacy that exists between Armand and Daniel - and which might come to exist? Even if we put away the possibility of a past-DM relationship!

Armand potentially spent days - days - looking through Daniel’s mind looking specifically for what makes him fascinating. Looking for the reason behind Louis’ interest. Looking through all of his life, dreams, hopes and shame. All of this then resulting in Armand trying to talk Daniel out of his own life through a nihilistic script specifically tailored to him. Ending with that embrace (as Daniel embraced him as his Death), and him drinking Daniel’s blood, and forever leaving his mark on his neck. Then we have Daniel Molloy, Pulitzer Prize winning journalist who is many things but most importantly a very competent journalist. Someone who is able to listen, gather research and find some version of the truth hidden behind the smoke and mirrors his subjects tries to conjure up in front of them. The Talamasca has sent him detailed files, which we know reveal a lot of the history and horrors of Armand’s life. Will Daniel in the finale use his skills as a journalist and analyze Armand to get to the truth? (As he does with Louis, as already seen). There is basically a level of enforced intimacy between the two, as they have both without the other’s consent learnt a lot(!) about each other. And if speculation is correct and Armand turns Daniel into a vampire this season? Will Armand see Daniel’s life flash before him? And if that is not intimate enough(!) they will then both be left with a bond unlike anything else - which has been shown to literally make maker/fledgling ’feel’ each other, their respective emotions and thoughts. Like what even is this relationship, and can I get more please haha?! If DM didn’t happen in the past will Armand go to drain Daniel and realize as he does so that the boy from the 70’s still finds him absolutely fascinating? (I strongly believe that Armand believes Daniel when he claims to not find him boring in episode five). Daniel is an insatiably curious journalist with an addictive personality (and maybe a little of an adrenaline junkie, no?) - and Armand must surely be a truly fascinating subject, even given what Armand’s done to him (one vampire might not be enough to interview/to come to understand for Daniel…). Will Armand see that and will that be partially what makes him suddenly decide to turn him??? Their chemistry has been interesting since season one and has only become more intriguing and compelling. I have so many thought, many not really coherent - sorry, love you blog! What do you think?

Hi Anon! First off, let me thank you for sending in your thoughts. I really love having conversations with other fans, especially regarding Devil’s Minion and Armand. I’ll set aside the possible past-DM as well, by the way. Buckle up!

There’s something really important being set up for viewers with Armand and Daniel’s relationship. Let’s look at what the show has presented us with. Armand and Daniel’s meeting was, quite possibly, the worst way for two people to meet. Looking into someone so deeply and, through your own selfish reasons (jealousy on Armand’s part), continuing to coax this young man into Death’s arms is inherently messed up. This isn’t something anyone should take lightly, and Daniel doesn’t. Therein lies the odd set up to their eventual maker/fledgling relationship. I love what you say is “enforced intimacy” because that really is what it is!

Daniel’s character is a juxtaposition when most of who we’re seeing are these immortal vampires. He’s our voice when we want to tell off them off, he’s our conscience and sense when we’re presented with lies, horrible situations, and straight up buffoonery. Putting this man in the same room with The Not-So-Master Manipulator Armand is going to give us some amazing results. He isn’t a 20 year old who will welcome Death with open arms, he’s a bright reporter with just about every point of view a human can have gone through at this point. And this is what will perk Armand’s interest.

I fully believe Armand finds Daniel fascinating already. I don’t think he saw it in SF, marred by his own feelings with Louis, but was open to the idea of trying to see it for the sake of Louis. There’s a huge part of Armand that wants to serve someone, wants a teacher, wants a leader. The teacher part being something he knows he seeks- he sought it in Louis. Louis’ big appeal to others is his humanity, something Armand lacks but craves. And Daniel, not intentionally, is going to give Armand this dynamic he seeks to give him purpose to keep living.

Older Daniel has decades under his belt with his profession and his personal history. Aging up Daniel and having him be this well-respected journalist is probably the smartest thing the writers could have done for the ~bigger picture~ in regards to Armand’s storyline (since he’s such a big player in TVC). We the viewers are presented with someone intelligent, strong-willed, and cutthroat. What can Armand gain from being with someone like that? Literally everything. He’s not a replacement for Marius, Lestat, or Louis. He’s something Armand genuinely needs after everything he’s gone through (and put himself through, let’s be honest). I’ll rehash one of my previous theories that Daniel isn’t the Boy we met in the books who went a little crazy after being turned- our Daniel is a fighter- and he should be ringside on Team Armand. A coach, a shoulder to lean on, an active listener.

So present-day Dubai

I think after everything is said and done in Dubai, Daniel will find the vulnerability in his next subject. He’ll have cracked Armand but will be shocked to find the soft(ish) interior. Daniel will see Armand for who he really is- someone stuck in a loop of their own trauma but also someone with real feelings and love to give. Not just a monster manipulator. Still that scared boy from Delhi, maybe, but not a lost cause. Never.

I’d really love a callback to 2x05. No, Daniel isn’t going to talk Armand onto the ledge, he’s going to be what Louis was to him. You’re not unworthy of love, you’re not hopeless, you’ve made it this far and you’ll continue enduring. These words will hold you up and carry you.

[mxtxfanatic]

Hello, hope you are well. I have a question if you're willing. Does Wei Wuxian ever refer to himself as the Yiling Laozu? I know he recognizes that people refer to him by that title but does he ever claim it or call himself it?

P.S. Prompt: The last thing Wei Wuxian remembers is the Temple collapsing down. When he opens his eyes, he discovers that him and Wen Ning somehow are back to a week after seeing his Shijie in wedding red. It also seems that the fledgling core of Mo Xuanyu came with his spirit.

(I'm a sucker for time travel fics (even though I don't think either parts of wangxian would ever intentionally time travel) I think they can be fun).

I don't think he refers to himself by his title, but I also don't think it's strange. Lan Wangji doesn't go around referring to himself as Hanguang-jun and neither do any of 3zun with their titles. I think that for the most part, Wei Wuxian is indifferent to the title, itself, and more insulted by the fact that it's become synonymous with "ugly demon that loves indiscriminate death and destruction."

~~

"Wei Ying!"

Wei Wuxian shot up from where he had fallen and immediately knew something was wrong. He had been standing next to the Guanyin statue. He had been standing next to the statue but looking towards Wangji. Lan Wangji was looking at him, too, a mask of helpless horror etched onto his face. Lan Zhan should never make such an expression, he'd thought. Then, the temple had collapsed on top of them.

Wei Wuxian knows he should be feeling pain or wood and stone pressing in from above or even the beat of the rain from the storm that had been raging that night. Instead, he realizes he's in a spacious area, much more spacious than the temple ever was given the echoes of his heavy breathing bouncing against distant walls. The air is cold and damp, but dim light filters in from somewhere. Despite the temple being nowhere near running water, he can hear a faint trickle not too far from him. Maybe if Wei Wuxian hadn't died before, he would think that he was standing on the banks of the Yellow Springs.

"Wei-gongzi?"

Instinctively, Wei Wuxian reaches for Chenqing only to realize that he recognizes this voice. "...Wen Ning???"

Wei Wuxian squints in the gloom and, sure enough, that's Wen Ning, standing at his side and missing the giant hole that Wei Wuxian had last seen punched through his torso.

"Wei-gongzi," Wen Ning asks with just as much confusion as Wei Wuxian feels, "what's going on? Why are we b-back here?"

Wei Wuxian gives a stiff laugh. "So it's not just me."

Had they not been here just the night before, perhaps it would have been harder to recognize. But the voluminous cavern, the burbling pool, the faint smell of blood persistently clinging to the air? Where else could this be but the Demon-Slaughtering Cave in the Burial Mounds? And not just the Demon-Slaughtering Cave as they had seen it some hours ago—full of ripped-apart corpses and traces of a long-passed fire clinging onto the walls—but the one that had been filled with messily scrawled notes, half-finished prototypes, and the occasional worn, handmade child's toy. Wei Wuxian picks up one of these toys and notes that other than a few loose threads and teeth marks, it's in relatively new condition.

"How is this possible?" he murmurs half to himself, half to Wen Ning. Except, Wen Ning has gone still in the way only corpses can, head swiveled to the entrance of the cave where a shadow has blocked out a good portion of scant light and low cursing has overtaken the sound of Wei Wuxian's own breathing.

"Wei Wuxian! A-Ning!" The shadow moves descends into the cave with brisk steps. "I told you to go down the mountain, today. If I found out you've forgotten, again...!" No longer directly backlit by the entrance, the light falls in such a way that the face of the person crystalizes into perfect clarity. Wen Ning sucks in a harsh breath. The doll drops to the ground.

Wen Qing had more curses prepared for them, but when she finally catches sight of their faces, she's shocked silent by the sight of the black veins around Wen Ning's eyes popping out so starkly that they extend almost down to his neck. As for Wei Wuxian—

"Aiya," Wen Qing startles back a step, then rushes forward. "Why are you crying?"

[desertfangs]

“ am i not good enough? ”  Armand/Daniel :)

The pressure builds in his chest as he watches Armand doting on Sybelle and Benji as he speaks to Rose and Viktor. He ruffles Benji’s hair affectionately, and pats Sybelle on the shoulder softly, planting a kiss on her cheek. They both beam at him, so much love in their eyes.

Daniel’s stomach churns. All he can think of is Armand’s book, of the way he dismissed Daniel as a demented, morbid romantic who could not stand him, who had never really known or loved him. 

He’s trying so hard not to think of those words and to instead understand Armand’s love for these two beings, but it’s so damn weird to stand here in Armand’s house, watching him with his new family whom he’s only just met. He and Armand used to be inseparable and now he’s just a guest watching him from across the room. 

He’s been here over a week and he still feels wholly out of place, unable to sit and relax anywhere, so he stands against a wall, trying not to take up space. Marius is in a conference room with Lestat and some of the others, making plans to go to France. Daniel was hoping to catch Armand alone, but no luck. 

Benji of all people glances up and looks at Daniel curiously, titling his head in a way that reminds Daniel of Armand. Maybe Daniel forgot to guard his thoughts. It’s hard, with all the immortals here, to keep the walls up. 

Benji says something to Armand, who looks over at Daniel. And suddenly Daniel wishes vampires could turn into smoke and he could just vaporize on the spot. 

His breath catches as Armand breaks away from the group and heads toward him. He’s stunning, as usual. He’s wearing an ivory sweater and dark denim jeans. His russet hair hangs long and loose around his pale face and rings adorn his fingers. He’s so beautiful Daniel could weep and as he comes closer, Daniel can’t breathe. No air wants to enter his dead lungs. 

Armand’s amber eyes rake over Daniel who suddenly feels lacking in his worn jeans and t-shirt. “Are you all right?” 

Daniel nods. Fine, yeah, just dandy. He struggles not to laugh and Armand can’t hear his thoughts. Before he can verbalize the sentiment, Armand speaks again: “Good. I want all my guests to feel at home.”

Daniel’s heart sinks. He’s just another guest. Of course. What else would he be?

“Thanks,” Daniel says, the word coming out short and terse. Armand stares at him, and Daniel shifts uncomfortably. He points to the ceiling. “Nice crown moulding.” 

Armand frowns slightly. He glances back at Sybelle and Benji, eager to return to that conversation and escape this awkwardness. Why the hell did he come over, anyhow? What did Benji tell him? 

“Every inch of Trinity Gate was meticulously designed,” Armand says. “No detail spared.” 

“So I see,” Daniel says. It really is an impressive house, more intricate and detailed than their Villa in on Night Island, though Daniel prefers the latter. 

Armand reaches out and tears a loose thread from the sleeve of Daniel’s t-shirt. He doesn’t say so but Daniel can practically hear him wondering why Marius allows him to dress like a vagrant. Instead, Armand pockets the thread and says nothing. He wishes he would. At least if they could argue—

Sybelle laughs across the room and the others all join in. Daniel’s stomach churns as Armand turns and smiles appreciatively at them. 

“Am I not good enough?” Daniel asks, the question tumbling out before he can think about what he’s saying. 

Armand turns back to him suddenly. “Whatever do you mean, Daniel?” 

Anger roars up at the way he plays dumb, the way he acts like it’s an absurd thing to ask. And maybe it is. Maybe there’s really nothing left to say between them. Except that when he looks at Armand, all he wants to do is pull him close and hold him there, and he can’t. There’s this weird glass wall between them now and he hates it. 

“As a fledgling,” Daniel says. 

Armand’s brow furrows briefly and then his expression smooths out, becoming impassive stone. “You have strong blood.” 

Daniel laughs scornfully. “Yeah, yours,” he says. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Armand looks back at his beloved children with Rose and Viktor, people he adores and whose company he can stand. Daniel turns to leave. Armand grabs his wrist. 

“Of course you are. What a thing to ask,” Armand says, as if he’s a fool. And he is. He’s here, blurting out questions he doesn’t want the answers to.

“Yeah, sure,” Daniel says. He pulls away and heads for the foyer. He’ll go for a walk, go kill some evil bastard and slake his thirst and maybe then he’ll feel better. 

Armand follows him to the door. 

“I just need to hunt,” Daniel tells him. He opens the coat closet and digs out his jacket. It’s too light for the climate and it’s raining out, but it will do. Armand is still watching him wordlessly, infuriatingly still and silent. Daniel wants to shake him and demand to know what he wants. What he feels. If he still loves him at all. But he doesn’t dare ask. “Do you want to come?” he asks instead.

Armand tilts his head, a gesture that always makes Daniel feel like he’s trying to get inside his mind. Then Armand pulls a wool coat out of the closet and shrugs it on.

“Lead the way,” Armand says. 

Relief washes over him. It’s not enough. Not by a mile. But it’s a start. 

[bittersweetcrusades]

Hi hello! do you have any alien stage fic recs??

i most definitely do!!!

I've only read ivantill until now (cus the brainrot is real) so that's what I'll share here but once I'm done scouring the mizisua tag, I'll definitely return!

links below the cut <3

from ashes by petitfives

vampire till and vampire ivan. ivan is deranged and till suffers per usual. rating: explicit

"This is the face of the dog who has killed so many of my fledglings,” Urak says, snapping Till out of his reverie. “Remember it. It might be the last thing you see.” Till has never liked Ivan more than he does right now. Good, he thinks, as viciously as he can. He doesn’t think his prayers carry any weight, but he stares hard at the saint wearing Ivan’s face and hopes Ivan puts a stake through Urak’s unbeating heart. Or, Till gets turned by a vampire, and Ivan is a vampire hunter.

the silhouette in my peripherals by Anonymous

till in the aftermath of r6. rating: explicit

Ivan is gone, but he is still there. Or: how to haunt a person.

till death do us part (so why are you before me again?) by Aminori

ivan and till reuniting in the afterlife. <3 rating: teen

When Ivan had held his beloved’s throat, felt the pulse of life as his own ended, he had expected to not see Till again. … He had expected Till to live on. Had selfishly wanted it, in fact. But here his beloved was, in his arms, in a place that they were never meant to be reunited in.

And he wasn’t quite sure what to feel, anymore.

(or: Ivan dies. He didn’t expect to see Till again, but he did.)

break a heart, stitch it right back by yamscooper

till being jealous. rating: teen

If Ivan wants to laugh and giggle and twirl his hair at some girl Till has never met before, that’s none of Till’s fucking business. “I don’t think Ivan’s hair is long enough to twirl,” Mizi says. “It’s a figure of speech,” Till bites out.

a certain ivantill fan's origin story by gustavo

somehow luka becomes the #1 ivantill fan. rating: teen

Over the course of his preparation for the much-anticipated Final Round of the hit dystopian drama, Alien Stage, Luka discovers that he might be a lot more invested in his best friend’s love life than he’d expected himself to be. or: the fic where luka somehow becomes an ivantill truther.

breathe again in the world anew by aerivel

more ivantill reunions after r7. rating: teen

Till and Ivan reunite one more time. - “I can’t say I’m not disappointed.” The sound of a deep, gentle voice cutting through the air startles Till enough to bang his head against the tree behind him. Wincing slightly, he sits up and jerks his head to the slowly approaching man in white. “I thought you would win after all,” the man continues, slowing until he stood a few feet away. The man’s attention is stolen by the fluttering of a crimson flower inches away from his foot. Absently, he shifts his shoe and crushes the petals beneath him. It’s enough to spark something within Till. Ivan. It’s Ivan.

your shadow on the wall of my room by ephemeroptera_insecta

ghost ivan haunts till. rating: teen

Till won Round 6. He had his first kiss. He’s one step closer to winning. He’s also, notably, now being haunted. Or : Ivan comes back as a ghost. Till realizes what Ivan has done for him, and the feelings he buried for him out of fear. They navigate life (and death) as a man and his ghost.

what we’re allowed to do to each other’s faces by fakekniferealketchup

ivan lives and till escapes. rating: teen

When Ivan had died, the lens through which Till saw the world had fractured, rearranged, and stuck that way, like a broken bone that wasn’t set. A bleeding kaleidoscope of the past. A dozen years of memories clamored for fresh attention, to be reexamined, to be cut open so they could show off all the terrible wriggling things that had wormed around inside them and eaten them hollow. He couldn’t think of the garden, anymore; only of how stupid he had been. — - — Ivan lives; Till escapes the arena. There's no elegance in their reunion, but there is spit, and blood, and something close to forgiveness.

[veiledvvitch]

Pleasure & Poison

Summary: The night before Rook impulsively takes on a dozen Antaam in order to save captured slaves, she's working on a contract at a banquet. Rook succesfully kills her target but is wounded with a poisoned blade. Viago rescues her, tends to her wounds, and one thing leads to another.

Tags/warnings: Slightly gory descriptions of wounds, near death, smut (but realy not too descriptive, I like to write it more vague and poetic), hints of love triangle drama.

Pairing: Viago de Riva x femme elf Crow! Rook (My OC Lucrezia de Riva / she's his protegé they are not related/)

Lucrezia fell back clutching at her chest. The poisonous blade had lacerated her several times and the venom had allready began rushing to her heart. Its wielder, a corrupted Merchant Prince that she had made damn sure to kill moments ago.

But now the music of the banquet had stilled and she was alone, and she was dying. Well, at least she had finished her contract.

"Fenhedis" she choked, regretting her own carelessness. If only she had not gotten too close, something her talon, Viago had lectured her on countless of times. She was afterall a mage and no warrior. Despite her spellblade, she had always been instructed to use it as a last way out and to finish her targets at range.

But Lucrezia liked getting close, it had afterall been such a great part of her reputation as an assasin. There was a saying in Treviso that there was no party, untill the Vampire had shown up (a mythic nickname earned during her bloodied fledgling days, after defending herself from a rival with her bare teeth). And this had been quite the party.

Just as her vision began faltering, she heard the sound of someone storming into the chamber.

"Lucrezia!" Viago yelled, pulling her limp body up into his arms. She looked up at him weakly. He had come for her again, her bastard Prince.

He stroked away the flaming curls stuck to the pearls of sweat on her forehead, assesing the situation as quickly as he could. Fifth Talon Viago de Riva, who had once taken her under his wing. Viago, who had mercilessly trained her untill the day she had become a fully fledged crow. A day that had finally arrived a mere year earlier. Ever since then, she had strived for his praise and approval, for her place in the House of de Riva.

"Viago. I'm sorry" Lucrezia whispered, barely coherently.

"No. You're not." Truth to be told, she rarely ever was.

"I forgot to take it again." Lucrezia nearly slipped out of his grasp, and Viago struggled to not slide on the blood soaked floor. She had once again forgotten the daily vial of diluted poison he had given her every day since she became his fledgling.

"You idiot." he spat through gritted teeth, desperately searching amongst his vials for the correct one. Lucrezia's eyes began rolling back into her head, her lips turning blue. She was fading, and there were so little time left.

Viago ripped the front of her dress open, it was an expensive one she had borrowed from Teia for the banquet her target attended.

He doused her wound in antidote, then opened another vial and forcefully poured it down her throat. It burned and she coughed weakly while he prayed to Andraste he was not too late. He kept patting her sickly pale face, desperately trying to make her stay with him.

"Ten years of training, don't let it all go to waste. I'll kill you if you die, you hear me. Luca. Even if I have to enter the fade and drag you out of deaths grip myself."

A small smirk appeared on Lucrezia's lips, that slowly returned to its former blush. Without thinking he pulled her further into his arms, embracing her tightly in divine gratitude. Feeling her heart beating against his own could have brought him to tears if it weren't for how angry he was.

"Viago." She whispered, "I didn't know you cared this much."

"Shut up. I don't." He hissed curtly, and she could not see it but he was smiling with relief too.

He got up and carried her back, all across Trevisan rooftops and alleys untill he reached his mansion. The house of de Riva.

There he tended to her wounds in his office; where she laid in silence upon a loveseat, patiently watching him stich her up without ever tearing a grimace. Barechested and exposed, Viago did not even seem to register how vulnerable she was.

"First scars ive ever gotten from a contract" she mused, "I hope it heals well, I won't be able to blend in much if i'm disfigured."

Viago's eyes never trailed away from the stiches, "It is a Crows milestone. Makes a contract more memorable."

Lucrezia blinked away the tears, sucessfully supressing them. "-Besides, it would not lessen your beauty."

She almost thought she had misheard him for a moment, perhaps her head was still woozy from the poisons close call. His eyes twinkled, Viago was a true artisan with the thread and needle.

"Do you have any memorable scars?" She asked, gazing at him and realizing for the first time that she had never seen his hands without gloves. Viago was always covered in his crow leathers, capes, poisoners belts and the likes. An arsenal of knives and poisons, always at the ready.

His eyes met her own sternly, he did not wish to answer. His will hardly buckled, seemingly. Untill he met her gaze.

"Please?"

Viago sighed and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, reluctantly revealing an old stab wound with a rather mortal placement. "Scars are memorable, because it means you can never make the same mistake again." He lectured her.

Her hand reached out tenderly to touch the purple socket of skin, after a moment she observed correctly "You let someone too close."

Viago's gloved hands moved back swiftly to cover it again but lingered for just a moment at the collar of his shirt. It was true, even now he struggled to let anyone have him as vulnerable. Not even Teia. Lucrezia's hand remained at his chest, tracing the scars texture softly. His gloves had always stayed on during any acts of lovemaking, more often than enough he kept himself as dressed as possible too. Having his tools at easy access, always ready for any attack, backstabbing or otherwise.

He noticed how her rosy cheeks had returned, she was allright. He had saved her. He could let himself relax again.

"Viago?" Her voice called him back again from wherever his mind had wandered. His focus returned to the stiches, he turned to a frown.

"You should not look at your Talon like that." He stated, warning her.

"Forgive me. It must have been the poison, I feel.. dazed." Lucrezia lied, it had not affected any sense of clarity at all. The relief they both felt had simply provided oppurtunity to act on what was previously unacted on.

The way he had always favored her, protected her, while berating himself for his weakness. This loving affliction, that made him so ferociously protective of his former fledgling. So much that, after she had gotten involved with Illario Dellamorte, he had jepordised his houses relationship with the first Talon by threatening her grandson. Teia knew too, she had called him out on it multiple times during their times together.

Viago placed the final stitch meticulously, and retrieved his tools to their assigned places.

"But what is your execuse Viago? No poison has afflicted your senses tonight, has it?" Lucrezia suddenly asked, just after he had believed he could put the matter, his desire, to rest.

"You are poison, Luca." He replied, throwing her a shirt disdainfully without looking back.

"Then what is the antidote? Or would you rather have me diluted as well?" She asked as she sat up, wondering if he would realy leave.

He gritted his teeth in response,

"Once every morning and night, perhaps?", she teased suggestively.

Just as Teia had snidefully remarked, he would continously micro dose his infatuation with his former apprentice. He would think about her during his relations with Andarateia, he would watch over her, make sure she stayed out of trouble even though she was no fledgling anymore. Always sticking his head out to protect her against their fellow crows, rivals and enemies.

Lucrezia knew she had struck a nerve this time, as he stood still in the middle of the room watching her without opening his mouth to berate her. She had him twirled right around her finger tips, but this time she was taking it too far.

"-Vi" she managed to breathlesly whisper before he stormed towards her, his lips crashing hungrily around her own. With great haste and without any of his usual self controll. Desperate and forbidden, he had failed to learn from his mistakes afterall. He was getting too close.

Lucrezia's hands searched for his as she pulled his entire being towards her. She slid a finger under his tight leather gloves, which made him hesitate. But only for a moment. She slid the glove of his wrist, then the other, and she gazed at his scars when their lips parted. Then brought his hand to the side of her face.

"Luca." He called her endearingly, before kissing her again. "This is... dangerous."

She laughed, it only weakened him further.

'Well, you did always call me reckless." Lucrezia whispered in between starved kisses, they had strayed far beyond the point of no return now.

"What are you afraid of? People seeing?" She asked,

"Stop talking."

The shirt he had previously thrown at her had mysteriously disappeared, and the ruined dress had been hitched up her waist to give him room and acess.

He felt her bareskinned, trembling against the palm of his bared hand. Skin soft, warm. Flesh to flesh, alive and not dead.

He sank into a pool of warmth, closing his eyes as he recited the chant of light in his head - praying that this indulgence would not jepordize her safety. She was the sole thing he cared more about than furthering himself. Even more than claiming his birthright, his throne.

Lucrezia wrapped her legs around him, then her arms. She felt like a venemous spider spinning her prey in her web. Then he took her, letting all his fears and frustration spill out along soft cries and kisses.

Afterwards, she laid in his arms as he laid there stunned. She had never seen him so relaxed before, so vulnerable. His knives were far away, thrown amongst his clothes.

When she discretly reached for her own he pulled her straight back into his arms, refusing to let her go yet.

"Viago? This is...."

"Shhh. Don't ruin it."

"What about Teia?"

"Teia is free to live as she wishes, and so am I."

He pressed himself closer to her, and she could feel his warmth radiating still against her back.

"I'm serious. We can't do this, can we?"

"We have allready gone too far. " Viago answered calmly, "We might as well enjoy it while it lasts."

He took in the scent of her red hair, closed his eyes and burrowed his aching head amongst her curls. His Lucrezia.

"You take your pleasures like you take your poisons, huh?"

"Sparingly." Viago whispered defeatedly. Just as he had taught her.

After a while, once Viago had slipped into sleep, Lucrezia slipped out of his arms unoticed. "My Luca." He mumbled asleep, "My little rook".

[starlightiing]

Lawhan and heart 😁💖

Send me a pairing and a prompt <3

@ellearts - Lawhan and Heart

Jack's ears twitch softly when they pick up on the sound. It's subtle thing, delicate and gentle to the point where it could have so easily been missed had Jack not been paying close attention to his surroundings. A small, uncomfortable shiver runs down the back of his spine as he makes sense of the soft noise, unmistakable in rhythm and tone but every bit perplexing to hear from so deep within the forest.

A human heartbeat.

Humans are incredibly rare to stumble upon in this particular forest, especially this deep inside. Jack remembers one of the first things Yuki had taught him after accepting him into the pack and the safety of his den: this forest is a dangerous place. Monsters of all calibers reside in the shadows, waiting for the slightest show of weakness to make their move. And, dangerous as it is for them, even more so is it dangerous for humans. Their hearts have a rhythm and pace so painfully distinct it cannot be missed or mistaken for another monster's by even the youngest of pups or fledglings. So ingrained in them is it to recognize the beat of a human heart, a sound indicative of prey, that humans last all of minutes in this forest before something devours them whole and suddenly, they are gone just as soon as they came.

Jack's head tilts in interest, and a deep curiosity bubbles up in the pit of his stomach. Yuki would chastise him, tell him to stay put and let him handle it - and for good reason. Jack is a pup, still stumbling over paws that are too big for the rest of his body both physically and metaphorically - but that fast, fluttering beat is too enticing. It's been far too long since he's seen a human, far too long since he's been human, that his natural response is to want to investigate.

And so he does.

He remains in his own human form, not wanting to frighten the human and draw more attention to them in a place where god only knows what is already hunting them down. But werewolves have the blessing of speed on their side - faster than any of the other monsters that live in the forest. Jack puts his nose in the air and tracks down the unfamiliar scent, running off towards the sound and the smell as quickly as he can. He's brought to a small clearing, a place he's acutely familiar with - Yuki has brought him here for training before in the past - and the sound of the human's heart becomes so loud at this point it's nearly deafening. Jack sniffs a few times, tracking the scent off towards the edge of the clearing where his eyes finally pick up on the slightest movement. He snaps his gaze over and is met with the silhouette of the human in question. He notices frazzled blond hair, half-slicked back and half dangling in front of the human's face as though it's been mussed through a few times by a nervous hand. The eyes are a muted tone of blue-grey, wide and startled as they come to rest on Jack's own fierce gaze.

The young man falters a moment, his heartbeat picking up pace dangerously within his chest, and stumbles back a few steps.

"Hey, it's okay." Jack says quickly, delicately, his senses easily picking up on the fear wafting off of the human in waves. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Slowly, Jack shows his hands to the man with his palms up and fingers splayed wide open. It seems to do little to calm the human, who reaches behind him for something Jack cannot quite make out. His senses heighten even further, listening and watching as the man grasps at the air behind him only to come up empty. There's a soft gasp, a curse beneath his breath, and Jack listens as the man swallows thickly in resignation.

"What are you?" comes his trembling voice, hardly above a whisper. Jack hears him with ease, head tilting slightly as he considers an answer to the question. It's clear the human is familiar with the strange inhabitants of the forest, which means Jack's efforts to keep himself from intimidating the young man are in vain. He already knows.

Jack clears his throat, "werewolf."

The human's eyes widen even further, a flash of terror sparking across his gaze as his heartbeat continues to soar faster. At this point, the vampires will pick up on the commotion and make their way to the clearing for a cheap and easy meal. Jack has to think fast if he wants to protect the man.

"Werewolf. Fantastic. I suppose you're here to rip my heart out then." the human says flatly, with a sense of false bravado that makes Jack frown.

"Not exactly. My pack is peaceful towards humans." He explains, taking a tentative step forward. The human does not move in response. "And you're not safe here. Your heartbeat is attracting everything within a few miles right to this location as we speak. You have to come with me."

The man laughs, something akin to a panicked scoff, and shakes his head vehemently. "Yeah, right. That'll be the last thing I ever do."

"No," Jack insists softly, shaking his head, "Refusing to come with me will be the last thing you ever do. Humans don't last more than a few minutes in the forest, so you're lucky you've made it as long as you have."

The man's eyes are cold and calculating, oozing with fear but brimming with something akin to interest as well. It's almost as though he wants to reach out and trust Jack, as if he knows his back is up against the wall - but Jack fears that the sense of self-preservation keeping him defiant to the offered help may be the very thing that gets him killed. There isn't much Jack can do in the way of gaining the human's trust, but he knows he has to try.

"You just want to lure me away to have me all to yourself." the man says, his voice trembling and uncertain. "There's no such thing as people-friendly werewolves."

Jack smiles softly at that, offering an amused nod. "Right. Well, if you knew anything at all about werewolves, you'd know that if I wanted you dead, I'd have ripped your heart out two minutes and fifty-four seconds ago when I first saw you. We aren't ones to play with our food."

The human winces at the term 'food', but otherwise keeps himself as still and unreadable as possible. However, Jack has the advantage of hearing his heartbeat, a small window into the emotions this man is trying to hide away from him. The fear is still there, evident in the panicked thumping echoing in Jack's ears, but it's calmed down ever so slightly in pace. It's working, however slowly.

"What's your name?" the human demands after a few moments, reaching up to run a hand through his already tousled hair.

"Jack. What's yours?"

"...Liam."

"Liam," Jack tests the name softly, hoping to make some sort of connection with the young man by addressing him directly, "I'd really like it if you came with me. I can hear at least three vampires closing in on us and I promise you they will not be as kind as I am."

Liam's breath hitches softly, and Jack can see the slight twitch of his hand as he curls it into a fist. A dozen different emotions flash across Liam's face before he finally sighs in resignation.

"You really won't hurt me?" he asks, and the incessant pounding of his heartbeat in the background is all Jack needs to know that Liam still doesn't trust him. Not yet. But in a last ditch effort to save his own life, Jack hopes he will come anyway.

"I really won't hurt you. But we need to get you out of here now. Your heartbeat is like a smoke signal out here. I promise I'll keep you safe, you just have to come with me."

Jack holds his hand out to Liam, palm up and open, expectant. He reaches almost desperately forward, without forcing contact between them to startle Liam away from him.

Liam looks between Jack's eyes and his hand, then back to his eyes, and finally to his palm once more. He takes a breath that echoes loudly in Jack's ears, before finally reaching forward and placing his trembling hand delicately within Jack's grasp.

"Thank you for trusting me, Liam. I won't let you get hurt."

Liam says nothing in response, but does offer a curt nod. His heartbeat, so loud and frantic, rattles around in Jack's brain as he tightens his grip on Liam's hand. It's a small start, enough for Jack to be able to get Liam someplace safe for the time being.

But there is the most subtle change in Liam's heart rate - it calms by two or three beats a minute - that warms something in Jack's own chest. It's not just desperation that drives Liam to Jack, no, there's a thin thread of genuine trust between them now.

and Jack has absolutely no intention of breaking that trust. Ever.

[dxxtruction]

My ideal Show!DM situation is the past wasn't really all that involved so much as Armand would step in and save Daniel's skin a bunch of times when he'd fall of the deep end into some shit, Daniel does catch feelings, but really what he catches is an intense need to become what Armand is, and Armand wouldn't actually turn Daniel over something like that. He wouldn't trust its misusage, even if he wanted to do it. He also has caught feelings for him, which actually are for the very fact he likes Daniel for Daniel, so I feel he'd rather they be on the same page (also he'd have still been with Louis at the time which adds another layer to it).

While modern day DM is more all the real romantic stuff that goes on, the fondness and affections and so forth, but also the clear spite that comes off of Daniel in the DM chapter. Only thing is Daniel is now the one who can't trust Armand, and notably probably thinks the guy needs help before even trying to have a relationship, so it remains in perpetual non-committal. Their bond is that of Maker and Fledgling, if anything is defined between them as what they are to each other. Which I think is actually something Armand needs because the only other factual, unchanged, bond with someone like this he has is with Marius. Daniel can be that kind of person he's tied to in such a way where there's no other strings attached, it's just that they are. Armand had to sacrifice something of his in order to get something, and to him I feel it's a biblical price that scares him to have done. Hence why he's run off.

[olympeline]

More thoughts on national animal forms in Hetalia:

Their beast selves are slightly bigger than what’s considered normal for the species. Not to such a degree that they’d look like freaks, but big enough to make you take a second glance.

They’re incapable of human speech while in animal form. I’m on the fence as to whether they’d be able to speak to each other as beasts or whether they’d have to change back to hold a conversation. Leaning towards the latter, honestly. These forms are wild and primal and speech of any kind just feels too human.

The appearance of a nation’s human guise stays mostly consistent throughout their lives, but their animal form is different. It can change radically depending on what’s happening in the world. This is most often seen with territories and settler colonies who break away and ascend to true nationhood. Like Alfred, who only became a bald eagle after the USA won independence from the British Empire. Before that he was a young lion. And if you’re wondering whether a super badass Lion King style battle ever took place between him and Arthur during their war? I’m happy to inform you the answer is: yes. Absolutely Hell Yes it did. 👌

Only real animals count. So no unicorn form for Scotland, dragon for Wales, etc. They’re cool but I prefer the consistency of everyone having creatures that actually exist, you know? Oh and, if you’re curious, I picture Scotland’s animal form being a stag. Not sure about Wales’s yet.

Speaking of the UK family, Arthur is a lion but he didn’t start out that way. He was a rabbit in the distant past. Quite the transformation. When did he change? Hard to say. Definitely not before Roman Britain ended. Most likely it would have been either during the reign of William the Conqueror, or else at the start of the Hundred Years War.

The manner in which an animal form changes depends on the circumstances behind why it’s changing in the first place. For Alfred, who won his freedom in battle’s flame, it was a fast, violent, and painful process. The first night after the war was won, Alfred bloodily tore off his golden lion’s pelt and cast it into the fire. Then he resculpted his fleshy, naked, skinless body and reclothed it in a bald eagle’s feathers. The whole thing was over before the sun rose above the newly made country. And as agonising as it was, it was also a relief for Alfred. His lion’s skin hadn’t felt right ever since the start of the war. It itched, and chafed, and burned, and almost drove Alfred mad. Even as a human, it tickled and whined and gnawed at him in the back of his mind. Only getting worse as the war dragged on. Eventually Alfred was assuming his beast form regularly just so he could bite and tear at himself in a frenzy. The revolutionaries got used to seeing their fledgling country covered in the wounds he’d gouged into himself in a futile attempt to find relief. None came until victory was won and he could cast off his lion form - and his old self - for good.

Meanwhile Matthew, who peacefully slipped into a fluffy lion cub form after Arthur won him from Francis, was very different. His independence was gradual and diplomatic so there was no need for a violent ripping of flesh. Instead, over time, Matthew quietly started using his lion form less and less the more Canada drew away from Britain. Until one day, when he badly needed release from the trappings of the human world, he assumed his beast form for the first time in decades. Only to find it had changed. Something Mattie had been expecting for a while but it was still a shock when it suddenly happened. There wasn’t any pain or anguish for him, though. Just a small feeling of wistfulness at the realisation he’d never wear his lion form again. It’s fine, though: a Canadian horse suited him better. Fit like a glove right from the start.

Mattie ultimately becoming a horse is funny too because, while I haven’t made up my mind yet about what Francis should be, a horse is an option I’m considering. Which would mean Matthew went from French foal, to British cub, then ultimately back to horse again, lol.

Maybe…maybe a horse is good for Francis? Maybe? Urgh, I don’t know! Seriously, I’ve only just started this AU thing and already Francis has become the bane of my existence. 😂 France is a world power and England’s historical rival. So his animal form would need to be something that could not just fight, but win against a lion. Yeah, a rooster ain’t cutting it, lmao. A big destrier style war horse could conceivably kill a lion by kicking or trampling it. Horses are prey animals but that doesn’t mean predators aren’t still scared af of a horse’s kick caving in their skulls and smashing their bones to powder. Also, historically horses are symbols of wealth, grace, war, and just plain pretty to boot. All of which fit Francis. My only other idea is that he’d be another lion. Because England got its lion from French nobility. Or maybe he’d be a lion up until the French Revolution? Then he’d pull an Alfred and rip off his pelt - or have it ripped off him by force during the Reign of Terror - and be remade as a horse. Lions are one of the symbols of monarchy so it’s some nice imagery there. Napoleon relied heavily on his cavalry too. Yeah, it could work. Maybe…? What do you guys think? Any other ideas? Post em below if you have em.

A nation-person doesn’t always change their animal form completely if their real world circumstances are altered. Take Argentina for example; a Spanish colony who started as a black calf and still remained a bull after locking horns with Antonio and driving him out of his part of South America. A bull suited Argentina so a bull he stayed. Though his coat and horns did turn from black to silver post-independence. Argentina. Land of beef. Land of silver. Silver bull, geddit?

Finally, there’s the differing effects of conquest where the original inhabitants of the land aren’t replaced like what happened in the Americas. Cases like Romano: a nation whose animal form never changed through all his ups and downs. Not after Antonio conquered him, not after being set free, and not after unification with Feliciano. Romano remained an Italian wolf through it all. Change was possible but it never happened for him. I guess it would depend on factors like how much of the original culture survives, how tightly the controlled nation is under the thumb of the master nation, etc. In the most extreme cases a conquered nation’s animal form might change completely to mirror that of their conqueror. Other times they might shift only a little. Like, say, if Ireland’s original animal was a wolf. Then, after being crushed and occupied by England, that wolf began to look more doglike. Symbolic of the English (later British) goal of “taming” wild Ireland. Stuff like that. A case by case basis, really.

(That’s all for now. Hope you enjoyed reading. I’m tagging this as my national animals AU ☺️)