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midgardian-witch · 14 days ago

Text

The Lunar Effect

Steven finds out their System is actually an Omega and not a Beta like he thought this whole time. Marc is very sorry. And Jake is here for a good time and not a long time.

And you're along for the ride and happy to help your beloved Omegas.

AO3

ships: Moon Knight System/Reader

word count: 6.3k

Part of Fran's Mini Kinktober 2024

AN: once again a big thanks to my beta reader @my-secret-shame for being a huge help and an amazing hype person 💙

tagging: @twwcs

Lunar Effect: a purported correlation between specific stages of the roughly 29.5-day lunar cycle and behavior and physiological changes in living beings on Earth, including humans.

Steven feels odd. Despite the cold London weather he can't bear to wear more than a light t-shirt and some loose pants. No matter what he does his temperature seems to climb and his mind feels foggy. He’s sure he is running a fever.

He sends you a quick text, making sure you don't worry about him before calling in sick at work. Steven wasn't about to possibly spread whatever bug he caught. Instead he moves through his flat sluggishly, preparing something light to eat, careful not to upset his stomach. He thinks about taking a hot bath, to relax his aching muscles but just imagining stepping into a pool of steaming hot water while he already feels overheated has his mind spinning. He wishes you were here but he doesn't want you to get sick too.

After a light breakfast Steven still doesn’t feel better and decides to go back to bed and rest some more. As he steps back into his bedroom he strips out of his clothes, the material starting to feel strangely itchy on his skin. Leaving his underwear on for some form of decency Steven crawls back into bed. The cool fabric of the bed sheets feel heavenly against his skin as he sinks into the plush mattress and it doesn’t take long for sleep to claim him once again.

His dreams come in flashes. Bodies pressed together. Heated skin caressed and teased. Plump, reddened lips kissed and bitten. An aching feeling of emptiness. The sound of low moans.

His head is spinning, he feels too hot and his skin is slick with sweat as he wakes up from his less than ideal slumber. Steven doesn’t know how long he was asleep for but he feels even worse now than he did this morning. With a groan he pushes the blanket off of himself. His covers are drenched, the wet fabric clinging to his skin. His brain feels fuzzy like it’s wrapped in cotton. Sluggishly he sits up and throws his legs over the edge of the bed. Steven scrunches his brows together, his underwear soaked and sticking to his skin uncomfortably. What the hell was wrong with him? It doesn’t feel like sweat or any worse bodily fluid. It feels strangely slick, like nothing he has ever experienced before. Did he have some strange new disease? Was he going to sweat out ooze forever now? Was he going to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West? He can’t think straight, every movement is too much, he feels too hot but strangest of all he feels empty.

“What is happening to me?” he whispers to himself, his voice shaking. To top off his already nerve-wracking state he is starting to panic now. He can feel his heart racing, his breath quickening. He can feel himself dissociate, his body stops to feel real. He wants to get out, to get away, to simply-

Steven? What’s going on, buddy?

Marc. Oh god. Maybe he knows what’s going on.

“I-I don’t know. Everything is too hot and the blanket is too scratchy and why am I wet and-”

Calm down. What are you talking about- oh shit.

Oh shit? Oh shit?! He’s possibly melting because of some strange illness he’s contracted and all Marc has to say about it is ‘Oh shit’?!

“Is that all you have to say about this? We might be dying and you-”

We are not dying, Steven. We are- well- uh…

“We are what? You know something!” He hates when Marc is being cagey. He thought they were through with keeping secrets but of course Marc couldn’t be straightforward, not even when they are dying-

Marc’s sigh pulls him out of his thoughts and what he says buries its way into his brain like a knife.

We’re in heat.

Time seems to freeze. He can’t comprehend what Marc is saying. They’re betas! They never had a Heat their whole life! Marc must be lying, it can’t be true, it doesn’t make any sense.

I am not lying. Why would I lie about that? Alright, just calm down. We can deal with this.

With shaky legs Steven gets up from the bed, his knees nearly giving out under him. His hand trembles as he tentatively slides it down under his underwear between his ass cheeks. He’s soaked, slick slowly trickling out of his hole like a waterfall. Steven can’t stop the surprised moan that escapes him at the sudden, overwhelming pleasure that shoots through him as his fingers skim the rim of his asshole.

Stop that. We need to keep a clear head for as long as we can.

But Steven can't stop himself, his finger slowly breaching the rim and slowly sliding inside. It's like nothing he has ever felt before; his skin is burning and this feels like long awaited summer rain. His breath shudders as his finger plunges in and out. He needs more. He needs…

He needs.

Steven!

His hand flinches away and out of his underwear without his control. A pitiful whine bubbles up in his throat, grieving the loss. The feeling of emptiness feels so much worse now that he had a taste of this. Marc’s voice reaches him though this fog of pleasure and he swallows hard. He just has to focus on Marc’s voice and he’ll be alright. Just focus.

Take a deep breath. You got this, Steven. We got this.

His breathing is shaky, air filling his lungs in short bursts. It takes a few minutes, although it feels longer, until Steven has calmed down somewhat. The ache is still there, this gnawing emptiness but as he focuses on his breathing it gets easier to handle. He’s on edge but Marc’s voice anchors him.

“Alright, so what do we do now? How do we deal with this?” he asks, gesturing towards his nether regions. He’s not dumb. He knows how a Heat works in theory. But it’s a wholly different situation when it affects you directly. He can feel Marc squirm uncomfortably, unhappy with having to have this conversation.

Well, we’re gonna need some supplies. I haven’t really stocked up on toys or anything. And we shouldn’t go out in this state.

Steven paces around, his shaky legs leading him aimlessly through his flat. He could just take care of it himself, right? People ride out their Heat without any toys or Alpha all the time, right? His whole body shudders at just the thought of an Alpha taking care of him. He hears Marc in the back of his mind urging him to focus as his gaze lands on his phone lighting up with a message. Steven picks up his phone and checks his texts. A familiar warmth spreads through his body, not the sudden arousal fueled by his heat but the joy knowing he is loved. The message is from you, sent right after he laid down for his nap, hoping for his swift recovery and asking if there is anything you could do for him, if he needed anything and if you should come over to ‘play nurse’.

He wishes you were here even more now. You’d know what to do, he’s sure. You'd make sure he was comfortable in bed, fresh, cool sheets being the only thing to touch his heated skin. That and your hands of course. Oh stars, your hands would be so gentle, petting his head, caressing his body. You know just where to touch him to make him keen, to make him whine and babble and beg for more. You're the perfect partner. His partner. His Alpha.

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks and Steven freezes, his phone falling from his hands and landing on the ground with a clatter.

You're an Alpha.

He never gave much thought to your secondary gender but now.

All he has to do is call you and you would come to him. You'd take care of him and make this agonizing emptiness go away. Your lips on his, your hands on his clammy skin, your knot in his-

Don't even think about it, Steven.

Marc's voice pulls him out of his day dreams just in time to feel another wave of slick dribbling out of his hole, ruining his underwear even further.

“Why not? It's not like I am inviting a stranger to fuck me silly,” Steven countered. Marc groans in frustration.

That's not the point and you know it.

“What are you afraid of, Marc? They are not going to love us any less just because we are an Omega!” Steven feels almost manic now that the thought of you spending his first Heat with him has formed in his mind. He needs it and not even Marc was going to stop him.

I know they won't but…

Marc hesitates. Steven hit the nail on the head. Their secondary gender was just another thing on the long list of things Marc thought would make you leave them one of these days. Steven can feel the worry, the self-loathing, the anxiety like ice water running through his veins.

“Marc, stop it. They love us. All of us,” he tries to reason, “This won’t change anything.” Marc bristles at his soft tone but Steven can feel him calm down nonetheless. “Now let me give them a call so they can fuck our brains out, yeah?” Counting Marc’s amused snort as a yes, Steven bends down, grabbing his phone from the floor. He hesitates only a short moment before he pulls up your contact, his thumb hovering over the green call button for only a second before pressing it.

You pick up at the second ring, not even giving him time to get nervous about what he was going to ask of you. “Hey baby,” you answer, a mix of excitement and worry in your voice, “How are you doing? Still feeling sick? Do you need something? Should I come over?” Just hearing your voice makes him feel lighter and he can't help but smile. “Feeling better now that I hear you, love.” He can hear you snort at the end of the line and it makes him giddy. “Alright if you're flirting with me you're definitely not dying,” you reply, laughter in your voice, “So what's up?” For a moment Steven completely forgot why he even called you until another wave of Heat hits him, slick dribbling from his hole as he stifles a moan.

“Steven? Are you alright?”

You sound so concerned, probably thinking he was in pain while all he felt was desperately horny. “I’m…oh stars…I need you. It's a lot to explain but-,”

“No need to explain. I am on my way.”

Our Alpha is coming to take care of us. Our Alpha will make sure we're safe. Our Alpha is going to f-

“Just stay put. The spare key is still under the mat, right?”

He can hear rustling, probably you putting your shoes on. You’ll be here soon. Soon.

“Steven?”

He blinks, disoriented, his mind feeling even fuzzier than before. He hums in affirmation before a needy whine escapes his throat. “I’ll be there soon. Just try and relax until I’m there, alright? I love you.” His heart flutters while his hole pulses with need and he is so in love and so aroused that he can only reply with a whimper.

Steven feels faint. He can hear the call disconnect but it sounds distant, like his phone is in another room and not right in his hand. He feels so alone. He just heard his Alpha but where are they? A distressed whimper reverberates from his throat and sweat starts to drip from his forehead.

They’ll be here soon.

Marc isn't as unaffected anymore. His words slur together but still he tries to calm Steven down.

Just lay down and wait for our Alpha. They'll take care of us. We just need to be good and wait.

Steven nods and shuffles back towards the bed. He can be good. He can wait. Their Alpha will be here soon.

As soon as he lays back down he can feel the restlessness rise again. The last piece of clothing covering his heated skin feels suffocating, like a heavy rock tied to his body pulling him down to drown him. With shaking hands he tries to pull down his underwear but it's suddenly so much more difficult to coordinate his hands and hips. He struggles to get his underwear over his knees and take them off completely. Frustrated he gives up and lays back down with a defeated sob. His body is on fire; all he can think of is the need pulsing through his whole body, all he can hear is the pump of his heart pushing desire through his bloodstream like it's molten rock.

Time distorts for Steven as he waits for you, his head filled with cotton, seconds stretching into what feels like eons. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you talked on the phone when he suddenly feels something touch his forehead. Steven opens his eyes, not even remembering having closed them, and there you are, your hand pressed to his temple. “Oh baby,” you coo and your voice is the sweetest sound he has ever heard, “You’re burning up.” You’re here and you smell heavenly. More slick pools from his hole and he moans weakly at the feeling. Your nostrils flare for just a second and a soft growl escapes your throat. “Steven,” you gasp his name, “I could smell you as soon as I got into the flat. That's what you wanted to tell me on the phone, right?” Your hand pushed the sweat slick strands of hair out of his face. “You're in heat, aren't you?” A desperate keening fills the air as he chases your touch. He’s delirious, eyes glassy and pupils dilated and just the barest hint of your touch feels like water in an oasis. Steven nods hesitantly.

“Don't worry, love. I’ll take care of you,” you tell him in a soothing tone, your hands gently running over his sweat-soaked skin, “We don't need to have sex either if you're uncomfortable with that.” Steven moans weakly, his words slurred as he's pushing his body against your hands, your fingers splayed out over his chest, “Please, need you.” You keep running your hands over his heated skin in soothing motions. “You have me, baby. I am right here.” Steven shakes his head violently. “Inside,” he clarifies.

You're stunned for a second, uncertain if Steven was already too far gone and this was the Heat talking or if he really wanted you to fuck him through his Heat. It's not like it would be the first time you had sex but Heat was different. And yes, you had been together for quite some time but that didn't mean you were the one he would choose for his time of the month.

Which reminds you that you really had to talk about why he never told you he was an Omega. It would not have been a deal breaker of course! This was Steven! And Marc! And Jake! You don't care about their secondary gender because they are them and you love them. But it would have been a nice heads up; you could have prepared better, helped faster if you had known.

“Alpha, please.”

His agonized whine pulls you from your anxious spiral and you blink at Steven. “Say that again,” you mumble.

“Alpha…,” he gasps, his hands slowly reaching for yours, “Please fuck me.”

You take a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, the tantalizing aroma of his arousal cloying the back of your throat and making your head spin. He grabs your wrists, frantically trying to maneuver your hands to where he needs them: everywhere. Desperate pleads spill from his mouth as he lets you explore his body anew. His skin is hot under your fingers, almost feverish. “What do you want, baby? My fingers? My knot?” you ask softly as your hands wander up towards his chest, giving his pecs a gentle squeeze. The responding gasp makes your lips curl into a smirk. Steven has always been more sensitive than the others but the Heat would have dialed that up tenfold. “I need to hear you say it, love, or I won’t touch you,” you explain as you carefully remove your hands so that they are hovering just over his chest, teasingly.

He whines again in frustration, “Please. Anything!” You pinch his left nipple and he yelps, his body almost lifting off of the bed. “That’s not an answer to my question, Omega,” you purr, a wicked smile gracing your lips, “Do you need my fingers in your pretty little hole or do you want my knot?”

He stares up at you, mouth agape, when his body shifts slightly. His eyes go vacant for a moment until a string of Spanish curses fall from his lips, his hips bucking into the air, eager for any type of friction. You bite your lips, trying to stifle your laughter. “Hello there Jake. Are you aware of what you just switched into?” you ask in a teasing tone, still trying to suppress your grin. He groans in response, “Alpha, if you don't fuck us right this second I will-”, his sentence is cut short by your fingers exploring his backside.

“You’ll what? Fuck yourself on your own fingers begging for my knot because you know they won't be big enough to satisfy you?” A desperate sob falls from his lips and you don't know which one of them is at the front when he clenches around the finger pushing slowly into his slick hole. There is barely any resistance as you add another finger, curling them a little bit in search of his prostate. “Mierda,” Jake shouts as your fingers find the spot you were looking for, lightning shooting up his spine.

“There we go,” you purr, continuously rubbing that spot inside of him that has him cursing and begging and has his limbs flailing. His cock is an angry red, standing at attention and begging to be touched. And yet you seem eager to ignore it, your sole focus on massaging his prostate. “Think you can come like this, baby? Come on your Alpha’s fingers?” Between the litany of moans he barely gets out a yes, his head thrown back against the pillow. His whole body is shaking more and more with every curl of your fingers, every slide against his prostate. You watch him writhe under your ministrations, pre-cum dribbling down his length. His body is wound tight as he approaches his peak steadily. As you sense that he is right on the edge you use your other hand to hold his balls, gently rolling them between your fingers. You can feel them tighten in your grasp as he bucks up, cum spurting from his cock like a fountain, his walls squeezing your fingers rhythmically. You let him grind against your hands, riding out his first orgasm of his Heat.

“Good boy. My beautiful Omega. That should take the edge off for at least a bit, hm?” you coo as you gently slip your fingers out of his hole, coated in his slick. “Damn, you're practically leaking, baby.” A drawn out groan is the only response you get. You clean off your hands on the already stained sheets, shaking your head in amusement. You feel honored to help your boyfriends through their Heat but you weren't going to just not tease them.

“My legs feel like jello,” he mumbles and the accent trips you up. You look over to your boyfriend, his chest heaving with every breath. “You ok, Marc?” He simply nods and tries to sit up, his face scrunched up in disgust. “The sheets are wet,” he grumbles, irritated. You snort a laugh and shake your head in amusement. “That's what happens when you keep leaking slick like a pornstar,” you reply with a grin. He looks at you, eyes still hazy but he seems more coherent than Steven and Jake were before. “Sorry about that,” he murmurs, avoiding eye contact.

“Sorry about what?” You have no idea what he could be apologizing for. He still looks away from you when you sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. You give him time to ruminate in his thoughts before he finally answers. “I’m sure you had better plans than taking care of an Omega in Heat.”

A long sigh escapes you before you place a hand on his knee, trying to gain his attention. It somehow works, his eyes focused on the way your fingers draw lazy circles over his skin. "Whether or not I had plans doesn't really matter. I will always be there when you need me, Marc.” His muscles tense under your touch and he averts his gaze once again. “We can talk about why you didn't tell me you're an Omega to begin with. Not because I need an explanation but because I think we should talk about why you thought hiding it was the best choice here,” you keep your voice soft and lean down to place a featherlight kiss to his thigh, right over where your hand is still stroking him soothingly, “But for now: just let me take care of you. Will you let me?”

Marc gasps as your lips press against his skin, heat rising to his cheeks. He nods quickly, unable to fight you even on a good day, but especially while in Heat. With a little smirk you place more kisses along his thigh, stomach and chest until you are face to face. “Thank you, my beautiful Omega,” you croon with your hand now on his jaw, turning his head towards you. His pupils are blown as your eyes meet, a soft whine falling from his lips. “Fuck, you can't just say shit like this,” he curses, sounding out of breath like he just ran a marathon. The grin on your face spreads wider and you place a final kiss to his mouth. Marc eagerly chases your lips with his, the soft kiss turning into something needy and messy. You only break the kiss when you get light-headed, your body desperate for oxygen.

Breathing deeply you look down towards your boyfriend whose eyes have returned to their heat-induced glassy state. Usually the time between Heat waves would be longer, at least according to your biology courses back in school. Something else to discuss with Marc later. But for now your first priority was to keep your boyfriend satisfied.

“My poor Omega,” you coo as you take a peek down his body, his cock standing back at attention, begging for release, “Let me help you with that.” You reach down, your hand grasping his weeping cock while your lips pepper his throat and chest with more teasing kisses. In languid strokes you move your hand up and down his shaft. His cock is twitching violently under your ministrations, an easy tell that this won't be a very long handjob. Sweet words whispered into the crook of his neck have him cursing and begging.

“Alpha, please, ‘m so close-”

“So good for me, my perfect Omega. Just let go. Come for me.”

As if on command Marc groans loudly, his hips bucking into your hand as he achieves his climax, another stream of cum spurting from his cock. You stroke him through the aftershocks until the stimulation gets too much for him. The dirty sheets get once again misused as a towel and you clean his semen from your hand.

Marc's head lulls to the side as he watches you, bleary-eyed. “Why the fuck are you still dressed?” he mumbles half into the pillow. You freeze for a moment before you burst into laughter. With all of this going on, getting naked hadn’t occurred to you at all, your sole priority being the well-being of your Omega. But now that Marc had mentioned it, you being overdressed for the occasion was not the only thing you noticed. You could feel the tightness of your underwear, the way your body was ready to give your Omega exactly what he needed, what biology dictated he was supposed to need. But alas neither Jake nor Marc had declared any preference for getting knotted by you. So you would use everything else at your disposal to make their Heat run smoothly.

“Does it bother you?” you ask genuinely. Marc blinks at you for a moment, his thoughts slower post-orgasm. “Not bother but- I need- I want-...,” he rambles, his brows furrowing as he gets more frustrated with himself.

“It's alright, baby. You don't have to explain.” You get up, quickly and methodically removing your clothes and putting them to the side. As you turn back towards him you notice his eyes trailing down your body hungrily, resting right between your legs at the sign of your own arousal. It's nothing he hadn't seen before but for some reason this seems different. Maybe it's the realization sinking in that this is the first time you are together like this not just as romantic partners but as Alpha and Omega. In any case you feel a little bashful as his eyes roam your body like you're some Greek statue come to life - in awe and slightly horny.

“Better?”

He licks his lips and nods shortly. You smile, reassured, and sit back down next to him. You reach over to pet his head, your fingers burying into his sweat-soaked curls when you notice how he is very pointedly staring at your crotch. He doesn't seem disappointed. “Like what you see?” you ask with a cheeky grin. Another nod but still no words. “Talk to me, baby.”

He blinks quickly, his jaw going slack and eyes wide. His eyes refocus on the sight of your arousal and he nearly starts drooling. You feel him shift under you as another wave of the scent of his slick permeates the air. “Alpha,” he whines, the switch in accent distinct, “Need your knot, please.”

“You want me to knot you, Steven? You sure?” You don't mean to sound like a tease, your question being genuine, but with Steven like this you can't help yourself. The way he whines and begs for you is too sweet not to savor. He rubs his head against your hand, like a cat eager to be petted, and nods. “Need it so bad. Need your knot inside,” he begs, pressing his body against yours as much as is possible for him, “Fill me up, please.”

“Since you’re asking so nicely,” you coo. You cup his face in your hands, gently rubbing your thumb against his cheeks as he looks up at you with hope in his eyes. “Think you can get on your hands and knees?” He swallows hard, his face set in determination. You watch him wiggle on the mattress for a moment, trying and failing hard to move but his body is too weak from the strain the Heat is putting on him (and probably the two orgasms you’ve teased out of it). Steven sinks back down into the sheets with an annoyed huff before he shakes his head in disappointment. “Don’t worry,” you murmur, “This way I can watch your face while I fuck you. And kiss you while my knot is deep inside of you, filling you up to the brim with my cum.”

You slowly crawl on top of him, spreading his legs so you can fit between them comfortably. “And you’ll be my good little Omega and take everything I give you, won’t you?” Steven keens as your fingers once again find his entrance, pushing into the slick hole and finding no resistance. “Yes. Everything. Everything.” He’s babbling, mindlessly grinding his hips against your fingers. You know it’s not enough for him, not anymore. He needs something much bigger than your fingers and you’re more than happy to oblige, arousal curling hot inside your belly, your cock throbbing between your legs.

You remove your fingers, wiping them on his belly, and grasp the base of your cock, guiding it towards his hole. Steven is squirming under you, too aroused and feverish to think clearly, his body moving on autopilot. As you slowly enter him he raises his hips to meet your movements. With every inch of you pushing inside, his moans get louder, his babbling becoming more incoherent. Even though his sentences turn more and more into broken words and whimpers you know exactly what he wants, your body moving on instinct, eager to make your Omega see stars. With a few more thrusts you bury yourself to the hilt inside him.

You stay like this for a moment, holding onto Steven’s hips to keep steady. He squirms under you, eager for you to move, to finally thrust into him and make him see stars. “Needy Omega,” you tut with a grin before you give him a sudden, hard thrust that leaves him choking on air. You slowly develop a rhythm that works for the both of you. With the slow roll of your hips you pump into him deeply, the tip of your cock rubbing deliciously against his prostate with every thrust. The feeling of his wet heat surrounding your cock is divine and you are quick to realize that you have not been left unaffected by their Heat. A possessive growl reverberates from your throat as you watch Steven lose himself under you, a gasping, sweaty mess.

“My Omega,” you groan as you lift his hips for a better angle, “My sweet, perfect Omega; taking me so well.” You lean forward, placing open mouthed kisses to his nipples, chest and neck, your thrusts slowing down, but reaching much deeper than before. He’s panting, choking on his moans as your lips and tongue explore his skin. “So good for me, “ you whisper into his ear before you nibble on his earlobe, “Like you were made to take my cock.” He nods eagerly, his moans only getting louder when you drag your teeth over his throat. You nibble at the soft skin before sucking on it harshly. The noises spilling from Steven’s mouth will have the neighbors clutch their pearls, you’re sure, but you have never heard a more arousing sound. Once you’re satisfied with the lovebite on his throat you soothe the bruise with your tongue. “My Omega,” you purr possessively. Steven shudders against you, his body burning for you. “Yours. Yours,” he agrees weakly, his voice hoarse from his wanton cries.

You reposition yourself, your cock aching for release, and snap your hips forward, picking up a faster rhythm. His body jolts with the movement as you fuck him into the mattress. “Close,” he pants over the slap of skin against skin, “So close.” You grunt in agreement, throwing one of his legs over your shoulder and lifting his hips even higher. With deep, hard strokes you pump into him, his walls clenching around you. Your cock pulses inside his velvety heat, sweat dripping from your brow as you plow into him with no abandon. Pleasure shoots down your spine like lightning and you can barely groan out a warning as you reach your climax. Your knot expands, filling Steven while you pump your cum into him. The sheer width of it, the feeling of being filled so completely, to be connected to you in this way, pushes him over the edge, his own cock pulsing violently, cum spurting over his stomach.

Before your knees have time to give up under you, you gently roll down next to Steven, taking him with you. It takes a moment until the two of you can find a comfortable position, while you are connected like this but you end up resting on the side, your legs a tangled mess and your arms wrapped around each other. You’re sweaty, exhausted and completely blissed out. Your foreheads touch, your breath mingling with his as you bask in the afterglow of your climax and the soft, buzzing pleasure of your knot tying your boyfriend to you, at least for a short while. Steven nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing in your soothing scent. “That was amazing,” he breathes out, disbelieving almost, “Never thought it would feel like this.” You huff out a soft laugh, “Glad I could make your first Heat good then.” Steven leans back and looks at you deadpan. “Good? Good? I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to walk anymore, love. That’s more than just good,” he huffs, almost offended by you selling yourself short like this. You grin and shake your head. “‘Great’ then?” Steven nods his head with a pleased smirk and leans his head back against your collarbone.

You stay like this for as long as it takes for your knot to go down again. As you pull out, a gush of cum leaking out of his hole, Steven makes a grimace, the feeling surely unpleasant for him. You mumble a quick apology and try to sit up but Steven pulls you back into his embrace. “Didn’t say you could just get up, did I?” he quips, a cheeky grin on his face. Well, if he can already sass you again, their Heat couldn’t be that bad anymore. Your brows furrow as you think about their Heat, your mind a bit clearer now too after your own climax.

“Steven, did you know you guys are an Omega?”

With an annoyed look in his eyes he responds: “I sure as shit didn’t. Because somebody had to have secrets again!”

“Yeah I had planned on asking Marc about that. Just wanted to know if it was a collective decision not to tell me about your secondary gender or if- well- you know,” you wave in the direction of Steven’s head, indicating their DID, “Secrets and all that.” Steven nods in understanding. His gaze grows distant for a moment and you figure that he was probably yelling at Marc in their headspace.

You’re sure Marc had his reasons for the secrecy but it still felt like an odd decision. Wouldn’t Jake and Steven have noticed going into Heat before or would that memory just have been locked behind their DID-version of a paywall?

Your musings are interrupted by an annoyed groan. Steven looks clearly miffed as he rolls his eyes and looks back to you. “You know what? I think you should have that talk with Marc now.” You blink at him, taken aback by the sudden proposition but before you can reply his body shifts next to you, muscles tensing up, his brows furrowing and jaw growing tight.

With an exasperated huff Marc rubs his face in annoyance. “Alright, alright, I got it, Steven. Stop lecturing. I know,” he grumbles. He takes a deep breath before he looks at you with a sheepish smile. “Hey baby,” he mumbles, already looking plenty chastised without you having said anything. Steven’s work, no doubt. “Hey Marc, you feeling ok?”

He nods briefly. “Yeah, thanks to you. I’m sorry, again, for all of this.” His shoulders sink and you know that he is blaming himself for what happened.

“I don’t want an apology, Marc. I want to understand.”

He sighs and nods again. “Alright, yeah. I can explain.”

You listen to him intently. He tells you all about his time in the army, his time as a mercenary, and the inherent danger of simply having your Heat in that line of work. When you can’t just take time off for your Heat because you work in Alpha-dominated fields like that, there is not much one can do other than take Heat suppressants. And when he became Khonshu’s Fist Of Vengeance it wasn’t much different. He still took the suppressants and when he needed to have a Heat, per the medication’s specifications, he made sure to time it for when Steven wouldn’t be busy with work or other things. But with Steven and Jake becoming a more present part of his life he simply forgot to inform them until it was too late. Until now.

“I should have told them right away but I kept thinking that there would be a better time for it and then,” he stops himself with a huff and motions towards his body, “Then this happened. And I’m sorry. I really am.” You have the feeling there is more to this but decide that subject can wait for another time, a time after their Heat.

You reach over and squeeze his shoulder. “I know, baby. And I am sure Steven and Jake know that too,” you respond softly before your lips curl into a smirk, “You will have to survive their teasing for a while. That seems fair though, doesn’t it?”

He rolls his eyes, but you can see him fighting a grin of his own. “I suppose I will have to,” he replies, leaning his head against your collarbone, just like Steven had done earlier, “Now that I have a big, strong Alpha to protect me from Jake’s jokes and Steven’s sass.” You snort, unable to control your laughter. “Your big, strong Alpha needs a fucking nap now,” you counter with a grin, “I’ll need my strength. Your Heat isn’t over yet after all.” Marc shudders at the realization and you’re sure he’s starting to produce slick again.

“So let’s rest. And after that I’ll fuck you again and again for as long as you need me to, my gorgeous Omega.”

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fanaticsnail · 7 months ago

Text

Parts You Left Behind

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 7,300+

Synopsis: You are the ship’s counselor aboard the Polar Tang. Giving your captain the permission he desires to behave idiotically with the two Nakama captains, you give yourself permission to behave with similar unbridled stupidity. The Soul-King Brook has your romantic attention: you love his energy and decide to reciprocate his flirtations, no matter how crass and distasteful they come across.

Themes: Brook x f!reader, therapist!reader x nakama-musician!brook, skeleton kisses, cheek kisses, platonic kisses, romantic kisses, angst, fluff, crews being themselves, validating feelings, requited love, flirtatious dialogue, talks of panties, heart-pirate!reader

Notes: this was meant to be a small drabble. And the same thing happens every time I try writing a small drabble - we end up with a full fic. Apparently I have a lot of angst inside about the Heart-Pirates that needed to get out, and also skeleton kisses. Posted a day late for the Skele-man's bday. Thank you to @sordidmusings and @since-im-already-here for helping me with boney kisses.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff (sorry if you're all not into the skeleton. He needed some love)

The air shifted the weight of salt-forward air through the strands of fallen hair which whipped across your face. The docking of the three ships, joined together by ropes and beams, were thrust into the hull by a soft thump. Your crewmate Shachi instinctively reached for your forearm to steady himself on, gritting his teeth as he adjusted to the new altitude above deck.

“You alright there, big boy?” you cocked your head to the side as Shachi balanced himself on your forearm and the metal beam framing the deck. He hid his head from view, shooting you a swift gesture with his thumb to indicate his well being. You smiled at him, shifting his weight on your arm by weaving yourself beneath his shoulder.

Rubbing soothing circles onto his back, you aided him in adjusting to the altitude difference, as he grew accustomed to life above the barrier of the oceanic waves. Being at lower altitude saved Shachi’s sea-sickness from the swell of waves, rocking his body and causing his stomach to lurch with every rise of the ocean surface.

“I got you, sweety,” you cooed at your red-headed crewman, holding him steady as he holds back the rise of bile in his throat: refusing to open the floodgates to expel the contents of his stomach, “Take some deep breaths for me, hun. Big one in,” you breathed with him inwards for three seconds, holding it briefly, “And then out,” you exhaled with him.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Good job,” you praised him, feeling a shudder in his shoulders as he fought back the sickness in his stomach and mouth. You breathed with him a few more times, praising him on every inhale and exhale that he took with you. Once adjusting to the pattern of the swelling ocean, he turned to face you.

“It’s just hard, you know? Being under the water, then over it again,” he commented, leaning into your touch with his back arching beneath your palm, “It’s the rocking that does it for me. Just the constant rocking.”

“I dunno,” you shrugged beneath his shoulders with a bitten-back, downturned smile, “I don’t mind a bit of constant rocking from time to time.”

Shachi expelled a roar of laughter accompanied with your own at your unbridled jest. He hooked his arm over your shoulder and teetered off into a light chuckle. You looked up at your crewmen beneath your shoulder and shot him a winning smile. He reflected the expression on your lips with one of his own.

“There’s a few members of the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews, hun,” Shachi commented, gesturing to the ship that had docked with your own with the index finger of the hand around your shoulders, “Maybe you could find some constant rocking amongst a few of them.”

Your captain, Trafalgar Law, made you aware of all of the crew that served the Captain of the Thousand Sunny. The ever growing list of occupants never seemed to end: Captain Luffy, First-Mate Zoro, Navigator Nami, Marksman Usopp, Chef Sanji, Doctor Chopper, Archeologist Robin, Shipwright Franky, and finally, the Musician Brook.

Your role as the counselor of the Heart-Pirates, executing your position with the utmost excellence, had you immediately drawn to advise your captain with the Nakama encounters with the Straw-Hat Crew. You knew a few members of the crew, the person you seemed to gravitate towards the most was Nico Robin. Her level-headed dimenure alongside her ability to balance the rapport of the crew was truly admirable.

The other was the playful musician, Brook. The first time you met with the Straw-Hat “Brook,” you were truly ill-prepared for what was to come of it. Where a few people found his straightforward approach of flirting with the opposite sex repulsive, you found it quite endearing. When he performed his melodic compositions, you were entranced by his musicianship. You adored him, and would love to get to know him in the arena of flirtatious engagement.

“We’ll see,” you smirked up at him, pressing a small, friendly kiss on your crewmate’s shoulder before you gave his waist a gentle squeeze, “How are we feeling, Shach?”

“A bit better,” he confirmed with a nod, looking over to the docked ship and their crewmen, “Just gotta focus on not locking my knees, and we’ll be all set.” He turned to look down at you, smirking with his eyes shrouded beneath his glasses. Leaning down, he pressed a small kiss on your forehead before breaking from the embrace.

Shachi, Penguin and you were the closest amongst the Heart-Pirate crew. The seas were incredibly lonely, comfort being scantily found amongst one another aboard the crew. It started one night when the shifts were switching between the ‘am’ and ‘pm’ crews, your body reacting in its exhausted state within changeover.

“Nothing new to report here, just a small blip on the monitor indicating the arrival of a school of fish,” you yawned at Penguin, he nodded in understanding.

“Alright then,” he confirmed, clapping a hand on your shoulder in his own dissociative and sleep-deprived state, “Get some rest. See you in a couple winks, honey.” You hummed in response, cupping his left cheek within your right hand and pulling his right cheek towards you.

“Night-night,” you uttered, pressing a small peck on his left cheek before turning to his redheaded shift-partner beside him, “Happy shift-watching,” you uttered, breaking contact with Penguin’s body before extending the height of your body by standing firmly on the tips of your toes. Grasping Shachi’s cheeks, you tilted his head to give him a gentle peck on his forehead before heading off to crew-quarters without any further explanation.

After that moment, the three of you became as close as close friends could be. Jokes, playfulness and comradery were always openly expressed physically between the three of you. Should Captain Law make port, you would wingman for your special boys, just as they would absolutely reciprocate for you. Each time Law made a Nakama encounter, you would all be on the lookout for appropriate couplings for one another.

“All crew: prepare to board,” your captain’s voice rang over the speakers with a soft crackle, “Reconvene aboard the Straw-Hat vessel. Counselor, to my side.”

Bowing a small nod and giving Shachi a final squeeze, you broke from your position within the arms of Shachi and made your journey to your position beside your captain. Both the Victoria Punk and the Polar Tang bound themselves against the Thousand Sunny: sandwiching the great lion figure between their own figureheads.

Approaching your captain, you cupped your palm over his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. He huffed out an acknowledgement of your name and title while he bowed his head.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” you asked him, stepping into his peripheral view. He continued to have his head bowed low, pursing his lips into a straight line. You furrowed your brows, sinking lower to get a better gauge on his emotions.

“I have a confession, Counselor,” he nodded, opening his eyes and looking above his descended brow, “And I need absolutely no judgment other than the highest level of professionalism.”

“Understood, Sir,” you smiled, releasing his shoulder and quarrying your own as a way of depicting your full attention, “You will always have my ears, along with my complete attention.” He sighed in gratitude, tilting his chin to elevate his eyes upwards.

“Being with those two captains makes me-...” he paused with a light scoff in his tone, “...-make awful decisions. It’s as if I am no longer in control of myself: always doing something to prove how much of a man I am to not only them, but to myself.”

Nodding along to his confession, you wordlessly agreed with all points he raised regarding himself. You relaxed your stance, opting to remain more compassionate and empathetic while you listen to your captain speak. As of this moment, your captain was only a man - and one that desired to verbally process with his therapeutic confidant: you.

“I put our very lives at stake with this utter stupidity,” he continued, shaking his head at himself as he uttered his confessions to you, “All I seem to do is share a single, joint brain cell with those two morons each time we meet. There are no intelligible thoughts I can call my own, only competition and idiocy seem to remain.”

After taking several moments pause, Trafalgar D Water-Law waited patiently for you to offer a countenance for his predicament. You suddenly allow a warm smile to begin its rise on your lips.

“May I ask what our purpose is with docking with the Thousand Sunny and the Victoria Punk?” you pose your question as simply as you can. He furrows his brows, clicking his tongue in thought.

“It’s a simple exchange of information,” he confirms with you, eyeing your face as you receive this knowledge, “And to determine if our alliance should remain valid in its longevity.” You hum in response, pursing your lips before allowing that warmth to return to your features once more.

“Then I would suggest leaning into the so-called stupidity, sir,” you shrug, scrunching your nose before looking to the hull of the Thousand Sunny. Cyborg-Franky was tying up the rigging to secure the Polar Tang in position to ensure it didn’t slip away in the swell of water with the dark-haired Nico Robin beside him.

“Excuse me?” Law expressed his concern with a low tone, “Lean into it?” You hum emphatically, returning your gaze to meet with your captain. You shrugged nonchalantly, cocking your head to the side to get a better gauge on the emotions of your captain.

“We’re not in any danger here, sir,” you relay your translation of his objective, “We have no threats posed to us, that is not at the hands of one another. I doubt the other two captains and their crew would make any attack on our vessel here, if we’re all in a similar predicament.”

Law stands quietly, interlacing his hands behind his back as he mulls your words over in his head. He inhales a deep breath, closing his eyes with his brow deeply furrowed in the center of his forehead.

“If I also may, sir,” you add, stepping closer to your captain, “You are only twenty-six years old. You are young,” you dip your head down to capture his gaze, his eyes now reopened, “And from what we’ve discussed in our prior sessions together: the opportunity to behave like a child in your youth was taken from you by illness and cruel, tyrannical hands. You never truly had an opportunity to be stupid, Captain.” His small gasp was barely audible, eyes widening at you giving him permission to behave childishly.

“Then what would you suggest, Counselor?” He questioned you a final time, floating his gaze with the utmost seriousness between your playful eyes.

“Allow the crew of the Polar Tang to switch out of their uniforms, and let us all be stupid together,” you smile at your captain, extending your hand up to clasp his shoulder once more, “You deserve to be stupid amongst friends. Even if it’s just for a little while. If it matters, as one of the few members of your crew you trust with the rank and title to dismiss you from active duty-...”

Law’s eyes never left yours as you softened your playful expression

“...You have my permission to be stupid, sir,” you quip with a small wink, releasing his shoulder from within your grasp and turning back to make eye contact with the Thousand Sunny’s archeologist. You give her a small wave and a broad smile, with a final word to the gloomy man by your side, “But really, the person who’s permission you truly need is your own. Give yourself the luxury of behaving like, as you say, ‘a moron’ for a few moments. See what happens.”

With that final word, Law dismissed himself from his place standing beside you and hurriedly scurried below decks to, presumably, his office. In his sessions with you, he has worked through a few hard truths, all of which resulted in him taking a few moments in isolation to allow the truths to sink in. This appeared to be such a moment as this; which left you, in his absence, to be the welcoming committee to both the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews and their Captains.

As you walked over the wooden plank used as a makeshift bridge between the vessels, Nico Robin offered you her hand to stabilize your footing as you stepped down onto the deck. Her radiant smile elevated her features, mirrored within your own.

“Counselor,” she addressed you with the smooth hum of her voice.

“Archeologist,” you acknowledged her title with a soft nod in your welcome, “Are we reduced to titles now? Shall I address all of you in such a manner?” Luffy smiled at you, his pearly teeth shining beneath his upturned eyes.

“Where’s Traffy at?” Luffy asked loudly, his voice carrying over to alert the red-headed captain at the other side of the deck, “He not with you?”

“Unfortunately not. My captain is not available to conduct the preliminary introductions of our crews presently,” you relayed your practiced response, “Is there anything I can do to make this first step more comfortable for you while we wait, Captain Luffy?” you asked before turning to the taller man rapidly approaching, “Or you, Captain Kid?” you finished your question with a low bow and awaited their responses.

“Nah,” Luffy shrugged, clapping his hands behind his neck and offering you a tight-lipped smile, “Welcome aboard, Counselor. Tell your crew to get comfy, Sanji has made a whole heap of food for us all.” You rose from your deep stoop, smiling at Luffy before turning to Eustass Kid and awaiting his response.

“Traffy sends his cute little counselor ahead of him to meet us, instead of showing his ugly mug up here,” Kid smirked, his lip paint cracking in the warmth of the sun, “Smart man, that captain of yours.” You chose to remain stoic at his unbridled, backhanded compliment of your captain. You extended your chin into the air, narrowing your eyes at the tall captain.

“I would prefer all compliments coming my way be not at the expense of my captain’s intellect, nor his appearance,” you snarled, arching your brow at him, “If that would be all, Captain Kid.”

“Aye. That’s all, little mouse. Scurry on back to your duties,” he smirked down at you, his narrowed eyes training after you as you turned to direct your crew, now in common clothes, aboard the Thousand Sunny. They all seemed more than joyful at their captain’s lax behavior, depicting their personalities in their own styles rather than in boiler suits. The only member of the Heart-Pirate crew that remained in their uniform was yourself, eagerly awaiting for your captain’s dismissal so you could change into common clothes, yourself.

You felt a presence behind you, your blood running cold as a shudder curled itself up from the base of your spine to the top of your skull. The small rattle of bones indicated the soul which stood behind you, a smile immediately tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Pardon me, miss,” the soft-spoken voice addressed you over your shoulder, “Would you mind terribly if I were to ask you what type of panties you were wearing?” Your tight-lipped grin did very little to stifle your teetered giggle at such an insanely, forward question from the familiar man behind you.

“Soul-King Brook,” you addressed him, turning to meet with the hollowed eyes of the skeletal form which stood before you. He was dressed in a purple, velvet suit, his hair curled and styled in a carefree, circular afro. The beads hanging from his skeletal neck shook and rattled against his exposed ribcage, the perfectly bleached bones secured with a black, leather belt.

Eagerly awaiting your response, he pressed the tips of his fingers together in anticipation of your response to such an unhinged question. He could not remember if you were the type to yell, if you were the type to respond with violence, nor if you were the type to simply scoff and walk away from him.

“If I were wearing any, I would absolutely inform you of the make and model,” you smirked up at him, before adding a soft wink with a further hushed utterance, “When I am dismissed from duty by my captain to change into more comfortable clothes, I would be more than happy to tell you the exact shade of the ensemble.”

If you had never met this man in encounters prior, you would scoff if anyone ever attempted to convince you that skeletons could blush. But you did know him, and here he was: Brook, the Soul-King, the undead skeleton - blushing red at your words. The cracked cap above the crown of his head popped briefly, to which you almost thought you could see steam rise out of the hollow crevice.

Nami, the straw-hat navigator, noticed the skeletal musician beside you seeming to have a small rush of energy pop out of his cranium. Immediately, she hastily walked to your side to ensure the skeletal man was behaving himself.

“I-If then, it wouldn’t be too much trouble, miss,” he stuttered over his words, tumbling through his teeth without anything to halt them, “Would you mind telling me if the carpet matches the drapes?”

“Brook!” Nami scolded her crewmate with a loud reprimand, “You can’t just go around asking people if-.” You halted her words with a wave of your hand and an enthusiastic giggle.

“-It’s perfectly fine with me, Navigator,” you huffed a laugh at both his poorly held conversational skill, and the response his crewman welcomed him with, “I am more than capable of defending myself if I were ever uncomfortable, but I thank you for your valiance nonetheless.” From the corner of your peripheral, you notice Law’s presence aboard the Thousand Sunny. He gives you a curt nod before elevating his chin sharply to excuse you from active duty to change out of your uniform.

“If I may be excused, Nami, Brook,” you nodded to the two Nakama crew respectfully, which they both reciprocated. You turned and began to take a few steps, casually calling over your shoulder, “To answer your question, Musician: The last time I checked, I wasn’t bald up top.”

The whistle of steam sprung into the air behind you, the rattles of the rotation of excited bones clinked together behind you with the familiar, unhinged laughter you had come to enjoy upon your meetings with the Straw-Hat crew. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you made your way back to the Polar Tang to redress yourself in more appropriate garb for the encounter.

Brushing your shoulders against Shachi and Penguin as you began to go below deck, Penguin quickly grasped his hand over your wrist and halted your movement. You quickly snapped your head to him as he lent down towards you.

“You keen on the skeleton, honey?” he whispered his hushed question into your ear, “Need a wingman to set something up? We can be on the lookout for something, if you like.” You laugh at his questioning, shaking your head at his enthusiasm at the proposition of a romantic fling amongst the crews. Feeling the loosening of his grip over your wrist, you quickly pressed a small kiss against his cheek in gratitude.

“I think I can manage on my own,” you confirmed with a small teetered laugh, “He is quite easy on the eyes, and I find his unbridled lust for the living flesh endearing.” Shachi joined you with your laughter, both quickly dismissing themselves from your presence as you hopped back on board of the ship you called home.

Hollowed eyes tracked your every movement. From the grip on your wrist, to the kiss on a cheek, to the teetered giggle rising between the three of you. Brook didn’t truly understand how to feel in this moment: a woman of his dreams seemingly reciprocal of his flirtations being more than friendly with her own crewmen. Was this foreign emotion jealousy?

He turned his head from your position, as your silhouette vanished below decks of the Polar Tang. He felt a warm hand tuck itself within his skeletal palm, giving his bones a gentle squeeze in support. Nico Robin offered Brook a smile alongside her affectionate touch, soothing over his scattering nerves.

“She is friendly with those two, Brook,” she hummed up at his tall form, “You, of all people, understand how lonely it is on the seas. She’s blessed to have found friends to offer her a gentle touch and a friendly embrace from time to time.”

“That I do, Robin,” Brook confirmed softly, nodding to himself as he knit his thoughts together, “I just-...” he trailed off, his onyx hollows seeking out the former position you were atop the deck of the Polar Tang, “...I would never dream of ruining that, should I choose to entangle myself with her. She’s wonderful.”

Robin’s gaze floats over to the two crewmen of the Polar Tang you had found a family with, both of which were focussed in deep, private conversation. Their eyes would float up to Brook, as their hushed whispers were scheming in hyper-focussed plotting.

“Something tells me you won’t be ruining anything, Dear,” Robin chuckles before releasing Brook’s hand and giving him a small tap on his shoulder in encouragement.

As you stripped out of your boiler-suit, you hastily made yourself more comfortable in clothes you rarely found yourself donning. You quickly made an appropriate arrangement of your favorite dress: cinched in the waist, accentuating your figure in a perfect hourglass and laid it out on your bed. Before you threw on a plain set of undergarments, your fingers halted on fabrics you had yet to have an opportunity to wear.

A small smile grew into a playful, mischievous grin, as your fingers looped over the lingerie: hastily drawing it up onto your body. You usually wore this garment if you were feeling particularly dull in your boilers uniform: something only for you to wear to make yourself feel more confident. You giggled as you hooked your thumbs over the bottom piece and pulled it up over your thighs to settle on your hips. Hooping your arms through the arm holes of the corseted bodice, you tightened the front of the piece to accentuate your breasts within the cups.

You quickly took a moment to laugh at yourself at your own stupidity, before you reminded yourself: “If I gave the captain permission to allow himself a moment of idiocy, why should I not do the same? Where is the harm?”

Throwing your dress over your head, you took a final glance at yourself in the mirror. Hastily adding a small amount of makeup to accentuate your features, you hurriedly made your way back up to the top deck of the Polar Tang while adjusting your laced ankle boots as you took lengthy strides.

As you made your way back aboard the Thousand Sunny, you truly took the time to notice the assortment of clothes your crewmen were finally allowed the luxury of expressing. You set an internal reminder to put forward a petition to allow the crew to dress casually at least once a month while serving aboard the Polar Tang.

Your eyes quickly found the skeleton, sitting cross legged in front of a checkerboard with the archeologist of the Straw-Hat crew: both drinking jasmine tea and engaging in a game of chess. Approaching slowly, she gazed up at you and wordlessly complimented your chosen casual attire for the day. You gestured with your eyes whether it was an opportune moment to interrupt their game to claim the skeleton’s attention for a moment. She tilted her head with a warm smile, gesturing with her hands to go right ahead.

Brook was confused briefly before he felt a hand press down on his shoulder. He quickly turned his face to glance down at the fingers perched on his right shoulder before his chin was claimed beneath the same warm grip. You tilted his face to gaze into his eyes, taking a moment for Brook’s mind to catch up to what his body was experiencing. You gazed through half-hooded lashes into the darkened recesses of his circular hollows, a playful smile drawn up on your lips.

“Violet and pastel-lavender,” you uttered in a soothing, low voice, “Laced up with a gold ribbon in the front with a gold embellished trim around the hemline.” Brook would have lowered his eyebrows in deep thought, if he had any hair sprouting over his skull. He was confused as to what exactly you were relaying to him before he focussed on who was relaying the information.

His spectral breath was taken from him, no further words were formed within his hollow cranium as steam began to exude from every open orifice. Your half-hooded eyes playfully toyed with him, as a feline would with their freshly caught rodent in their teeth. You held your eyes watching him squirm as you bit your smile back with your teeth, while Robin attempted to contain her chuckle at witnessing her crewman be the center of another’s romantic attention.

“Y-Y-You-...” he choked on his words, the steam rapidly whistling and fuming throughout his skull, “...You’re w-wearing purple panties?” You giggled at his response, pressing your painted lips against the hollow surface where his nose was once located, leaving a perfect pursed circlet of affection painted on the bleached bones.

“Of course I am,” you confirmed with a wink before pulling away from him, releasing him from your hands and beginning to rise from your stoop, “I had to match with my favorite musician.” You gestured to the velvet suit Brook was wearing, prompting his attention to briefly switch to his own clothes before snapping his head back up. His jaw hung comically slack, prompting a giggle to rise in your throat before you turned back to acknowledge the woman opposite to Brook.

“Apologies for my forwardness, Nico Robin,” you bowed your head in respect to the dark-haired woman before returning your attention back to Brook, “Soul-King,” you nodded your head to the musician before walking over to your captain.

Sitting beside Trafalgar Law as he shared a single brain cell with the two Nakama captains was truly a sight to behold. You adored how he finally allowed himself to loosen the tight reins he held himself bound by, his playful stupidity was something you would’ve prescribed as his personal councilor. He needed a holiday, and he was finding one beside the two louder captains.

As the food changed from the savories, to the sweets, to the cheeses and cured meats: you felt hollow eyes fixated upon your form. You were not swayed by the attention in the slightest, it was a welcomed change to your experience aboard the Polar Tang. You embraced the opportunity to express your femininity in a creative way, and it was a bonus that you managed to snag the attention of such a unique individual as-.

“Brookie!” Captain Luffy called over the ramblings of the crowd, “How’s about a song? Somethin’ from the heart while we enjoy being one big crew together?”

His trance broken by the orders of his Captain, Brook snapped out of his bout of hypnotism as he made his way hurriedly to claim the first instrument set aside on the deck. The old guitar had water-swollen cracks in the base, but the strings were all new and freshly tuned. When he played music, he was in his own world: unaware of the life around him as he let the music carry his soul.

As his skeletal fingers began plucking at the strings, his voice relayed a heartfelt melody that held you completely transfixed on his form. Both Shachi and Penguin snickered at your awestruck expression, nudging each other with their elbows as your breath was claimed from you. Law attempted to ask you a question over his shoulder, turning to face you as he didn’t hear a word or utterance of response from your direction.

Law's gaze floated over your starstruck expression, the music fully moving your soul was painted intricately on your face. Your eyes began to become glassy as the swell of Brook’s melody reverberated in your eardrums and shook you to your core.

He smirked at you, uncaring that his question remained unanswered. Your captain reached his hand down, claiming your palms and giving them a gentle squeeze as you remained unresponsive to the world around you.

Nothing existed in this room: just you, and the skeletal man who was singing to every fibre of your very soul. You were entranced, bewitched, captivated and spellbound by his melody.

Brook in his time as a musician in his corporeal form was well renowned for his shanties and musical ensembles. Some of his melodies were taught to you as a child before you decided to embark on a life of piracy.

Nothing could have prepared you to meet the man who influenced your childhood musicianship, especially one on the high seas between all the quarters of the continent. Nor did you ever picture yourself falling in love with him as he finally concluded his performance aboard his vessel, to which you were a welcomed guest aboard.

You were too stunned to offer applause in response to the song’s conclusion, the world suddenly jolting back into existence as calls for an encore were encouraged from the three crews.

Brook’s spectral eyes were held in complete focus against your own, noticing the elevation in your heartbeat flooded to dust your cheeks in a warm flush. Your lips were parted, your eyes never leaving his as you blinked the world back into existence around you. Brook took a brief bow before he extended his boned hand out towards you, nodding to you in a gesture for you to take his hand and join him.

Turning to your captain first, Law nodded his head to excuse you from your position beside him, you rose to your feet and stepped around from the positions the three crews scattered themselves atop the deck, reaching forward and taking Brook’s skeletal hand. He guided you over to the plush stool beneath the piano, taking a seat beside you as he began to perform a classical arrangement that required no vocals.

Enthralled by the melody once more, your eyes focussed on the piano. The ebony and ivory keys dipped and rose beneath skilled fingers, the passion in the melody depicted with each crescendoed element.

“Do you play any instruments?” Brook asked in a low, hushed tone beside you. You snapped out of your brief captivity and looked to his vacant hollows. The empty sockets held firm against your face, focussed on every subtle change in your expression. His fingers continued to clack at the smoothed tips of the keys as he awaited your answer.

“Not since embarking on a life of piracy, much to the disdain of my heritage with my familial title,” you shrugged with a soft smile, his skull now holding your attention rather than the melody, “I did sing in my youth when I was in medical school, which was a long, long time ago.”

“Not as long as my youth was. Of that, I am certain,” Brook jested with you, nudging you playfully with his shoulder, “And I bet you could still sing if given the appropriate circumstances.” You returned the gentle nudge with your bicep before lulling your head over the curvature of his firm shoulder.

“I highly doubt we would find ourselves in those rare circumstances, Bone-Daddy,” you snickered at him, enjoying the subtle hiccup in his tinkering atop the keys at the bestowal of such a title.

“And if I were to ask you to sing with me, Liebchen?” he asked, briefly resting his head atop yours and nuzzling against you. His hair tickled your skin as he rested his undead body against yours. The rambunctious merriment aboard the vessel broke you away from Brook’s question, prompting you to raise your head from its position on his shoulder as you witnessed the stupidity your captain’s were involved in.

Each captain had managed to locate several bugs and beetles aboard the vessel, drawing a chalk circle on the wooden floor of the Thousand Sunny. It seemed that each captain had chosen a bug, beetle or arachnid: those creatures needing to touch the chalk ring of the circle the fastest to determine a clear winner amongst the Nakama.

Shaking your head with a warm, melodical chuckle at how much your captain was letting himself engage with the two other captains in their idiocy, you allowed the warmth to spread up to your cheeks. You were proud of your captain in his vulnerability to engage with them in this way.

Brook concluded his piano concerto to the absence of applause now the attention was on the insects in front of the captains. You turned to Brook and gave him a soft round of kind applause with your hands, to which he bowed his head in response. Cheers and hollers were thrust into the air at the engagement of the insect race, prompting you both to shake your heads as your eyes remained fixed on Brook’s.

“Will you?” Brook asked once more, elevating his hand to capture your own beneath his, “Will you sing with me, Liebchen? Something small and familiar to you?” You sighed in response, upturning your brows and allowing a soft smile to elevate against your lips. He held onto hope, his hand giving yours a small squeeze in eager anticipation of your answer.

“I would adore singing with you, Brook,” you sighed breathlessly, “Lead me in song, and I’ll follow the melody you set.” The skeletal man, should flesh be imagined on his features, would be beaming a broad and enthusiastic smile at your willing participation.

He reached within the opening of the piano, pulling out a small instrument with four strings and a rotating handle at the base. Several indented cogs and keys clacked at the sides beneath his skilled fingers, the music springing from the instrument sounded not so dissimilar to a violin with the dual tonality of piped bags.

“This is a hurdy-gurdy, if you haven’t seen one of its make before,” he informed you with enthusiasm. You nodded down at the instrument as he performed with chords and melody over the clacking and winding, stringed instrument.

“Do you know any melodies to this progression?” he asked as he played a few minor keys in sequence, “I know it would be somber, but I would love to hear you sing something like-.” His words were stolen from him as you began to lilt your voice in a familiar tune from your childhood.

Although over time the lyrics in certain passages became lost to you, the intention was there with each skilled fluttery phrase. This melody was bittersweet and melancholy, the song depicting a foreign land where death and grief would no longer hold purchase over those who flee to its comfort.

There was no mention of a lover, nor whisper of romance within the phrases - yet each lyric fleeing from your lips had the skeletal man falling deeper into the trenches of his adoration and admiration for you. As he learnt the melody and the repetition of the chorus, his voice joined your melody in harmony: skillfully floating in perfect pitch within the realms of your vocal skill.

As the melody ceased, silence once again surrounded you: the world once again free of the colorful atmosphere you were painting with your song. You were in your own little world with the Soul-King, Brook, beside you. Barely comprehending your actions, you leant forward and brushed your painted lips against the bone occupying the space his lips once were.

Drawing up the heels of your palms, you collected his cheekbones within them and held him firmly as you pressed several more, soft kisses against his boned lips. It was an unusual feeling, teeth where lips should be, bones where cheeks should be, cold aura of hollows where the fluttering eyelashes of a lover would belong.

Breaking away your lips from his face, you gazed longingly into the dark sockets of his eyes. No word was spoken between you as you held your breath. He turned his face away from you, shaking his head lightly as if battling an internal argument with himself. Your brows triangulate upwards in the center of your forehead, eyes wide and innocent as you bite at your cheek nervously. Resolving his internal struggle with a huffed breath, he turned back towards you.

Claiming both of your hands within his own, he gently squeezed at your digits.

“I never, in all my days in this skeletal body, have longed to have lips as much as I do now,” he confessed in a dark whisper. You floated your eyes between the hollowed sockets, searching for further insight to his feelings.

His sorrow was depicted within his tone, his face remaining vacant at each uttered confession, “I have no flesh, no muscle, no organ: I am only bone. I have no heart, my soul is all that remains. I have nothing to offer you in this life-.” You had no choice but to break him out of his spiraling thoughts with your own argument.

“-All of those things are untrue, Brook. Aside from the physical attributes, don’t you dare reduce yourself to merely the parts you left behind,” you chastised him with your verbal warning. He was shocked at your passion, feeling the heat radiating off your body as you drew up further arguments to present to him.

“You have no lips? I am more than capable of allowing you to borrow mine,” you spoke with no hint of irony, nor jest within your tone, “No flesh, no muscle, nor organ? Those are just the tangible surroundings for the spirit within all of us. Are we not merely vessels for our souls to use as hosts?”

Brook remained speechless, hanging on your every word as the fire of your passion ignited your tongue with sparks and flashes.

“You are only bone? No heart?” Your anger now truly evident on your features, “How dare you reduce yourself to less than all that you are,” you broke away his grip on your hands, and began to rise to your feet from the position beside him on the stool, “Your heart is your music, your soul is depicted in the care you have for your crew. I feel it, Brook.”

He cowered back against the piano, the hurdy gurdy dropping limply on the floor: discarded and abandoned. No crew spared the two of you a glance in your quarrel, choosing to remain solely fixated on the insect race, now turned into gladiator death-matches within the chalk circle.

Brook was in awe, watching your passion ignite in your eyes as you scold him with your words and bless him with your compliments. In all your encounters together: each time the Polar Tang met with the Thousand Sunny, he was entranced by your rapport and support for your crew. Your soothing words and answers to his unashamed lust presented to you had him blushing, but your attention now has him soaring with the reignition of his absent heartbeat.

From your position now standing, you brushed off your dress and shook your head to rid the prior passion from elevating further. There were no regrets from offering him a kiss, not even the absence of his lips inhibited you from pressing your affection into his bones. At a huff of your breath, you lowered your tone to be in a kinder pitch, softening your features as you turned back towards the skeleton.

“I will not stand for such self-degradation, especially with my occupation serving aboard the Polar Tang,” you extend your hand out to him, a soft smile slowly creeping up against your cheeks, “For what it’s worth, I adore you, Brook. I have always held you in the highest regard.”

“The highest regard? Even with only the parts I’ve left behind?” he uttered his question barely above a whisper, seeking out further explanation within your orbs, “I am only a skeleton, afterall.” You sighed, rotating your neck atop your shoulders and stepped further towards him. Pressing a small kiss on his forehead, your lips lingered for a moment longer against his cranium before you simply walked away from him.

Feeling truly no need to draw out an explanation for your dismissal of his question, you felt your heart break for the Soul King. You had already confessed your admiration for him, uplifted him with your words and then wordlessly expressed your affection for him with a soft kiss. The skeletal face now had several painted hoops from your pursed lips written on his bones, a memorial of love artistically indented into his absent skin.

Staggering in his rigidity, a boney hand reached out for you as you attempted to retreat back towards your crew. His essence was screaming to unify with you, to lead you in more intentional touches against his corporeal form.

“I-I’m sorry. I only meant-...” he circled his boney fingertips around your wrist and gently tugged you to return towards him, “...-I cannot kiss, nor embrace you, in the manner to which I desire most. The others aboard can give that which you seek, commit those acts with you. Why would you choose to engage in this way with me when there are so many others available to you?”

You exhaled slowly from your nose, turning to face the Soul-King. You stood between his parted knees, leaning down while seeking out his chin with your fingertips. Apprehensively cupping his jaw, you leant down to hold your lips a whiskers length away from his pearly teeth.

“Because you’re who I want, Bone-Daddy,” you confessed down to him, smiling as you touched your forehead against his. He reveled in the warmth rolling from your body to his own, feeling your smile mirrored with his spirit. If he had eyelids, he would close them as you did your own within the arms of one another.

Elevating his left hand, his slender fingers cupped your cheek and guided you in towards his skeletal mouth. Following his lead, you pressed your lips tenderly against the cool bones of his teeth, feeling the divots beneath your pursed flesh. He held your cheek against his face, tracing soothing circles over your wrist with the tips of his phalanges in his thumb.

Cheers and an uproar of hooted hollers erupted from the three crews, tearing your attention away from one another as you witnessed an exchange of Berry from Shachi, Killer and Nami. The wagers the crews placed on the variety of small creatures in the gladiator ring were as freely given as the drinks concocted by the skilled hands of the Straw-Hat chef.

Joining your laughs with your crews, you both held each other firmly engulfed within your arms. The Soul-King nestled his head between your breasts as you soothed your hands within his hair. After several moments remaining this way, you felt the tips of Brook’s fingers trailing curiously up your spine.

“Purple, you said?” he hummed coyly against your chest, his fingers brushing with the hem of the back of your dress, “Violet and lavender with a gold trim?” You chuckled warmly, feeling his head turn slightly in your embrace, his chin placed firmly between your breasts as he looked up at you with his jaw seeming to smile up at you.

“And corset-laced, gold ribboning in the cleavage,” you smiled, smoothing over his hair as you collected his cheek within the heel of your palm. You scrunch your nose at him, gazing through half-hooded lashes playfully down into the hollow abyss of his eye sockets.

“Would you like to see them?”

#one piece #x reader #op brook #soul king brook #brook #brook x reader #bone daddy brook #op brook x reader #fluff #kisses #all the cute things #validating emotions #platonic heart pirates #heart-pirate reader #supernova trio

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positively-peachy-143 · 7 months ago

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dallas x early bird!reader? ilysm👹

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG.

------------------------------------

Just Like Heaven

Characters: Dallas Winston, Early Bird! GN! Reader

Ships: Dallas Winston/Reader

Tags: smoking, light kissing, fluffy stuff :>

Wk: 649

Dallas Winston has never been a morning person, and he never will be. You on the other hand adore mornings. You love the way the light streams in through your window at Buck’s, you love when it illuminates Dallas’ features. You get to see this side of him that no one else sees; peaceful, vulnerable, sleeping Dallas. Who would blame you for watching him? He was beautiful.

This morning the sky is particularly golden, making the strands of his dark hair light up, illuminating it in hues of hazel and gold.

You take a sip of your coffee; black. It’s bitter, but a wonderful way to wake up. The steam is illuminated in the sunlight, rising in a steady stream from the chipped mug you’d manage to scrounge up downstairs. It had become a routine, making yourself coffee in the bar’s kitchen, maybe even breakfast for you and Dallas. Not this morning though, just coffee is fine for you.

You’re interrupted from your thoughts when you feel an arm lazily tossed around your waist, hearing a familiar sleepy grumble from the lazy lump of a man beside you. It sounded like maybe he said “morning” in that very Dallas way of his. His voice was low, rumbling and slurred with sleep. It made you smile.

“Good morning to you too, sleepyhead.” you glance over your coffee at him, the mug no more than a couple inches from your lips. Even if you weren’t actively sipping it, the smell was nice. And you had to protect it from the potential threat of Dallas spilling it again.

“How’re you even alive right now, it’s so fuckin’ early…” he whined, burying his face in the pillow beside you. So much for admiring his features.

“Wah wah” you mocked, elbowing him playfully. “You ought to try it, you know. Sunrise is beautiful.”

“Don’t need a sunrise.” the words are simple, still edged by grogginess. He leaned up, eyes meeting yours. “Have you.” and he’s grinning that stupid grin of his, pressing a lazy, sleepy kiss to your lips. You’re sure he can taste your coffee, and he doesn’t seem to mind. When he pulls away, he looks a bit more awake than before, his grin verging on cocky now.

“Sap.” you scold, shoving him. Though you can’t smother the smile tugging at your lips. Yes, you think this is your favorite part of your morning. While you enjoy your brief window of alone time, you may enjoy this, watching Dallas slowly wake up and getting that little peek into his vulnerable side, even more.

“You blame me? Look who I getta wake up to.” he nudged you back, moving to sit up properly. He leaned over the little table next to the bed, picking up a box of matches and a carton of cigarettes. You’re not a big smoker, but in all honesty you don’t mind the smell as much as you used to. It always reminds you of Dally now.

He perches a cigarette between his lips, striking a match from the matchbox and lighting it. Afterwards, he carelessly tossed both small boxes back onto the table. No point in offering you one, he knows that.

A comfortable silence settles over you two. You, with your coffee, him, with his cigarette. Maybe not the healthiest breakfast, but you wouldn’t trade it for a five course meal if you had the chance. Something about this… peace, when otherwise chaos followed Dallas everywhere, when the gang would be teasing you, something about this was a welcome reprieve. You watch the sunlight streaming through the smoke wafting off the end of Dallas’ cancer stick, follow that light to his features. His dark eyes, brown hair, all illuminated in a way that makes him seem like some ethereal being sent here just to have this moment with you. Yes, something about this felt just like heaven.

-----------------------------------

Feedback is always welcome!!! tysm for the request!!! :D

#Dallas winston #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston x y/n #the outsiders #the outsiders dally #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders fanfiction #early Bird reader #gn reader

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unanswered-stars · 2 months ago

Text

Thank you so much for tagging me @jules-writes-stories @highlordofkrypton @achaotichuman

1. How many works do you have on AO3? I'm a but a wee babe in the ao3 world so just 7 but I have several WIP's that are on pause currently. I had originally had a fic planned for each day of Eris week but haven't been able to write in awhile so might be some time before those are published but once I start posting again you can expect Eris chaos to reign.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 36,487 I struggle to write long chapters and most of my works end up being around 2,500.

3. What fandoms do you write for? A Court of Thorns and Roses

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Shadows of Regret and Redemption| Azris - My first published work. A oneshot that grew legs and started to run. I am not completely happy with it thus far but I have the end plotted and I'm excited to eventually bring that to life.

Daughter of Autumn | Azris - Now this one absolutely shocked me with its popularity. Started as a fun little drabble for Gwyn Week 2024 and of course turned into Azris central.

The Beginning and End of Friendship | Azris - So many people screaming in the comments at me on this one. More screaming to come when I post part two I’m sure.

Two Souls Entangled| Azris - A tiny part of my soul via a short poem for Azris Week 2024.

Heaven Help the Fool Who Falls In Love: The End | Azris - This is the first piece I wrote for fanfiction and it is my precious baby. Only one chapter posted but I have several in need of editing before I publish the remainder. It's very heavy and I haven't had the mental space to read through it again.

5. Do you respond to comments? Every single one! They bring me so much joy. I have currently stayed away from my comment section for my own mental health but when I start posting again I will get back to everyone's comments, promise.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? All of my works are fairly heavy on the angst. TBaEoF comes to mind but I think for published works I’ll go with The Ending of Darkness which is a short little piece about @jules-writes-stories OC Mithras x Sylvan which I have a part 2 almost completed which is equally as angsty (sorry). Unpublished works definitely The Burning of Leaves and The Death of Shadows which are two fics I had planned for Eris week but are currently on pause (poor Eris I was really putting him through the wringer for Eris Week).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Daughter of Autumn. Mostly because Cassian has the closing line and he just always says the darndest things.

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have not, nor do I plan on it. Please don’t hate me 😅 Just not my writing jam. I love finding unique ways to explore a relationship and conveying those same emotions and feelings without the smut. That being said some of my favourite stories and authors use smut as such a wonderful exploratory storytelling device and it is delightful. I love reading others contributions to the smutsphere. So so many talented writers out there giving us all our smuttiest dreams. I truly do not think that my smut contribution is even necessary when you have things like To Become a Vanssera by @acourtofladydeath and Why Not Me by @thomasisaslut both absolutely rife with smut and use it beautifully to convey their story (albiet in very different ways).

9. Do you write crossovers? Not yet, and probably not ever because I can hardly keep up with writing ideas I have for one fandom.

10. Have you ever had a fic translated? No.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but it sounds delightful.

12. What is your all-time favorite ship? Azris most definitely for writing. I definitely have a big soft spot for Samwise and Rosie from LOTR (my husband is Samwise reincarnated and I am irrevocably in love with him). I have a WIP for Thesan and his lover and that dynamic and storyline has been so incredibly fun to explore as well.

13. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I started writing a Tarquin UTM oneshot that is incomplete and while I am still in love with the story I really struggled with writing the voice of Tarquin. This one will only ever get finished if I can finally figure out the right tone for this man’s internal dialogues.

14. What are your writing strengths? I have been told my writing reads like poetry which is one of the biggest compliments you could ever give me. I also love writing parallels but there’s definitely a lot of room for improvement there.

15. What are your writing weaknesses? Editing haha. But actually, I find that my characters voices don’t feel very distinct and that there is a lot of overlap in the way they speak and think and it can be hard to distinguish who’s talking/thinking. I feel like my characters resemble a cookie cutter suburban neighborhood where the walls and trim might be a different colour but they’re all built exactly the same. If anyone has some tips please feel free to comment or message me!

16. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I absolutely love reading it but unfortunately the only other language I know isn’t really a language at all. Pidgin, which is basically just native slang. I was playing around with it in my Tarquin fic a bit but seemed a tad too niche.

17. First fandom you wrote for? LOTR in middle school. I have a printed multi chapter booklet that is a rewrite of Sam and Frodo’s journey through Mordor that I made for my English class one year.

18. Favorite fic you’ve written? My favourite multi chapter by another author is undoubtedly A Court of Shadows and Ashes by @futurehunt Mother Save Us From Your Twisted fate by @chunkypossum which got a stunning part 2 for Eris Week this year! My favorite of my own published works is either HHtFWFiL:TE or The Ending of Darkness. Of my unpublished works honesty The Burning of Leave or The Death of Shadows are both strong contenders. For non Azris I have a Beron fic WIP for @sjmvillainweek day 1 that will probably get prioritized over the other two.

No pressure tags (and sorry if you've already been tagged): @the-darkestminds @born-to-riot @chairofchaos @thomasisaslut @chunkypossum @acourtofladydeath @shadowsandlint

#tags with stars #tag game #acotar #azris #gwynweek2024 #erisweek2024 #azrisweek2024 #eris vanserra #tarquin acotar #thesan acotar

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fabbyf1 · 5 months ago

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Hi!

I’m not sure of this is how to go about this correctly.

I’m not sure what your position is on others drawing inspiration/directly from your incredible fan fiction writing but, on Ao3 there is a fic called ❤️lestappen- One shorts💙 by lestapeeen. The most recent chapter (14) is very similar to the monza chapter of long live(twwct) specifically the piggy back and proposal promise. some of the dialogue is exactly the same.

I figured you should know. If it’s a cool with you or if you knew already, sorry to be a bother.

DISCLAIMER: This post, by no means, is asking for ANYBODY to send this author mentioned (and tagged) below hate. On anon or main. I have been pretty damn clear with my feelings on the matter below. They know what they've done, and I won't stand for it. Nobody needs to make this worse by sending them death threats. With that out of the way, let's deep dive, shall we?

YOU KNOW WHAT?

First off, god bless you, bestie. God BLESS you. I want to smooch you on your incredibly wonderful forehead. Thank you so much for bringing this to my attention. I cannot be everywhere at once and cannot possibly read every fanfic posted to AO3, but it's not fucking cool for people to straight-up plagiarize my shit.

Secondly, I'd like to ask that if ANY of my followers come across something that looks very suspiciously similar to my fics, please let me know. You can for sure send it on anon, or send me a dm.

Now, with that being said, I clicked on this fucking fic not knowing what to think. I went into it with a pretty open mind, knowing that there are quite a few authors currently posting fics that are verrrrrrrrrrry similar to my writing style. I've gotten pretty close to calling a few of these authors out but haven't for a few reasons.

Fanfics based on the same ship, in the same canon setting, are always going to be... let's use the word "similar" here. The plot can only change so much when you're following canon events, you know? I don’t write AUs, so I’m only going off canon-inspired fics. My fics generally follow along with canon timelines and therefore, other author’s fics that follow the same timeline are going to be... similar. I get that and accept that.

Characterizations are bound to be... well, fuck it, let's use that word "similar" again. I'm gonna be pretty forgiving when someone's Max is damn near the same as my Max because one: I'm a good and forgiving person, and two: I think my characters (while totally fucking fictional) are very life-like to the real person. So, with that in mind, when I read a fic with characterizations similar to mine... I will usually give somebody grace... and accept that maybe, just possibly, they see Max Verstappen (the person) the same way I do (fictionally) and it’s a big old coincidence that our fics read so similar. You know? Does that make sense?

But with all that being said, I’m not a fucking idiot.

And honestly? I give more grace than I should on this goddamn website. (lmfao, respectfully.) This is sadly not the first time that somebody has very much written in my likeness, and I know it won't be the last. But this is definitely the boldest version of plagiarism I've seen. I haven’t clicked on any chapter except for 14, and I heavily skimmed the first part, but let’s take a little deep dive into some of the highlights. Because I will show the receipts, bestie.

from their story:

from long live:

..... right, let's move on.

from their story:

from long live:

okay................. sure

from their story:

from long live:

If you're going to plagiarize my shit... you could at least put it in a different font, so to speak. "Hey, can I copy your homework?” “Sure, but change it up a bit.”

Girlie pop, you stopped even trying to change it the fuck up.

Let me be clear: I do not authorize anybody to translate, re-post or distribute my work without my written consent. This is in a disclaimer (that I will post below) in every single one of my fics. Taking MY dialogue is NOT okay.

Direct quote from the beginning note of Long Live: DISCLAIMER #4: This is 100% fictional, and I do not own any person, team, or sponsor referenced in this story. I mean no offense to any person(s) mentioned and characterized in this story. I am not affiliated with any part of Formula 1 or its subsections. Please do not translate, re-post, or distribute my work without my written consent. I will cry.

To sum up, writing is not easy, and it takes time and effort. Time away from my friends, my girlfriend, my family. Time away from my job and my other hobbies. Long Live is 76 thousand words and took me countless hours to write.

To have somebody so blatantly and disrespectfully post MY SHIT as their own and not even try to give me credit? To not write a note that said, “Heyyyyy go read long live, which I [clearly] really enjoyed!” or even a “Some of this dialogue was inspired by @fabbyf1” or even just a “lmfao some of this i didn’t write but the rest i did” really pisses me off.

Why did it ever have to come to this?

I am SO disappointed right now.

Happy fucking Friday, I guess.

For full transparency, here is the link to their fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55255699 and here is the link to their tumblr: @l-estappen

Here is the link to MY fic, which was posted on April 2nd, 2023, and written in Google Docs with revision history about a month before that. I have receipts out the fucking ass, my dear. https://archiveofourown.org/works/46190509/chapters/116284915

Be well.

#... anyway #i expect this story to be EDITED TO REMOVE MY DIALOGUE or completely taken down.#thanks for listening.

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mazzystar24 · 6 months ago

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idk who else to go to with this but i have so many people sending me hate because i don’t like bucktommy when i literally never even post about them????? they keep calling me toxic and a hater and i’m not i just have shipped buddie for years and i don’t vibe with tommy…. it makes me sad because this fandom used to bond over buddie so much but now i just see angry tommy fans (and admittedly some buddie fans but nowhere near as many) spreading so much hatred and rudeness while turning around and calling buddie fans toxic when we just want to ship our 6 year long standing ship… and like i said i genuinely never post about bucktommy, and if i do say something about them that can be perceived as negative then i always tag it “anti-bucktommy” and i NEVER tag it bucktommy so that they don’t have to even see it! It hurts to open up the app not knowing if i’m going to have another person calling me homophobic or a fetishizer (i’m literally queer) or calling me a toxic bitch when i literally don’t do anything but post happy buddie content 9/10 posts! and like i said i know i’ve seen some buddie accounts go to extremes and i’m not defending that, but i’ve seen people who will call out even the slightest apprehension to bucktommy as if they stepped on someone’s grave, while simultaneously bullying and harassing buddie shippers for minding their own business… like i can’t even go into the buddie tag and it’s people attacking us left and right while the bucktommy tag is nothing but everyone gushing over them… i hate that we can’t enjoy a 6 year old ship anymore because half the fandom decided to jump to this other one that has barely gotten any screentime between two characters that don’t really have chemistry with each other and they want to berate us for it and call us names. I’m not a fetishizer and I’m not toxic, I’m just a late 20s queer girl who wants to talk about buddie without a barrage of hate and insults thrown at me but I can’t do that anymore… 9-1-1/buddie used to be my safe place but now i can’t even come on tumblr because i’m worried a stan will be lurking in my asks/replies waiting to tell me how awful i am.

i’m sorry to dump all of that on you but i just opened a really nasty ask and it hurt a lot to read what they said about me and you were the first person on my dash

Hey anon!

Okay so I can already guess I’ll be late posting this cos i think I’ll be replying to this in increments throughout my day today, and also I can tell this is really bothering you so I don’t wanna just give like a short rushed answer - oh wow I actually wrote this in one sitting cos I can’t shut up once I start

Yes the fandom has been a downright mess lately and it’s like I always say, people if you wanna engage in discourse that’s your prerogative and no one is faulting you for that but it’s the utter lack of fandom etiquette these toxic fans have that’s the real issue and I also feel like as you said a huge issue is this kind of imaginary high horse they seem to have

Like I totally agree that there is like this section of toxic bucktommy fans who try to warp not liking bucktommy into being biphobic- which look if people are actually being biphobic by all means call them out but when you’re going to actual queer people who posted 166283894 posts celebrating bi buck, only to attack them for not liking the ship?? Then that’s just plain stupid I’m sorry, like being happy to have the queer rep and not liking bucktommy isn’t mutually exclusive and it’s ridiculous people are trying to make it out to be

Like I’ve personally been sent an ask like that where they implied that I was biphobic for not being a big fan of bucktommy and that “I don’t know how exhausting it is for bi people” - which I gotta say made me go what about my blog would ever make someone think ah yes straight 🤩

And thing is at the time they sent that my most note filled post was my celebration reaction meme extravaganza to getting bi buck which I feel added some fun irony to the whole thing

And calling people shipping two MEN (buddie) homophobic takes a special kind of cognitive dissonance that I gotta say I’d almost be impressed with the leaps in logic if it wasn’t so annoying

Now I personally don’t know what state the bucktommy tag is in cos I mostly stick to the 911 abc and the buddie tag but I know how the buddie tag has been and I agree the misuse of tags to make a negative space is absolutely ridiculous and again that all goes back to the etiquette part

And the fetishising thing is also just another thing that absolutely grates my nerves, because these toxic fans really need a dictionary thrown at their heads because buddie is like the polar opposite of that.

First of all a large section of buddie shippers im aware have asexual Eddie headcanons and that aside let’s say we want gay Eddie and buddie and all those things, let’s even say we want them to fuck nasty *gasp🫢* and sloppy and write 156273 smut fics where they plain fuck like rabbits (*nun faints in the background* also probably some pearl clutching occurred upon reading this),

THAT’S NOT THE POINT HERE- the point is the main appeal of buddie as a ship isn’t that ooo look two hot guys kissing; it’s the history it’s the friendship, it’s the vulnerability, it’s the will scene, the shooting, the trust, the parallels, the understanding of each other, it’s the domesticity and it’s all these moments that have nothing to do with sex or objectifying their dynamic or mlm relationships but rather shipping them because they are two people with this amazing connection and these experiences

and THAT? That’s the furthest thing from fetishisation

Now I could be controversial and talk about how SOME and some is the operative word of this sentence- SOME toxic bucktommy fans have been blatant in not really caring about the story or the characters or buck and Tommy as individuals or the team dynamic or anything other than seeing these two men kiss, these being a lot of the same fans who refuse to watch the show other than the bucktommy and Tommy scenes and then will act like they somehow understand the show more than fans who’ve been here years or seen the whole show BUT I digress because I know that saying this is me basically asking for spam hate (so shhhh let’s pretend I didn’t say that 🤫)

who said that? 👀not me👀damn that’s crazy a ghost just ran across my keyboard 🙄

Anyways back to you specifically, because I really do think it bares mentioning, if you’ve been respectful to others then that’s all you can do and thank you on the behalf of everyone cos it really makes a difference, and I wanna say sorry on the behalf of every asshole who’s deciding to attack you for ridiculous reasons, the best advice I can give you is to genuinely not let it get to you I know it’s easier said than done but you know who you are and you know your intentions and some dumbass sitting behind a screen who can’t even properly comprehend what biphobia or fetishisation actually is (or worse DOES know what it is but is just using it as a way to put others down over a tv show to have an imaginary high ground) isn’t worth your time or your distress and they cannot change who you are

This part might be over explaining the obvious but in case you don’t know/ are new to tumblr or whatever: If you wanna continue to have fandom spaces as a safe place filtering should get rid of a lot of the posts and so should blocking but ofc you’ll see a few so just skip past and enjoy the content you like, if you wanna make posts and are scared of asks from toxic shippers maybe you can turn off your asks temporarily until you feel like you’re in a better place mentally to deal with it

Oooo or an idea that might work is you can ask your followers and mutuals (who are the ones most likely to be sending the nice asks) to use an emoji at the start of their asks to indicate to you that this is an ask you’ll like then you can delete any ask without that emoji without even having to look at the hate if it’s causing you that anxiety - if that makes sense?

I hope my reply somehow made you feel better and I really hope that you can have your fandom space and enjoyment back 🫶🫶🫶🫶

#hope everyone who ever sent me a ranting ask that as I’m replying to you I’m channeling the energy of a little old lady #*knows that as #giving you hot cocoa or tea on a rainy day #evan buck buckley #buckley diaz family #911onfox #911 fox #911 #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 discourse #fandom discourse #asks open #send asks #send me asks #answered asks #asks

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brrypiiix · 2 months ago

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I'm sorry but...Clay x Trollex? Why? Clay doesn't even know Trollex! To me and some, their ship doesn't make any sense...at all. Sure, I know people can ship whatever they like but this ship, it's a big...nah for me.

🙂🙂🙂🙂.

I’m gonna try and put this in the nicest way possible. Bare in mind, I’ve dealt with this sort of comment since the third movie came out. I’m sick and tired of this comment.

If you TRULY want to know why I ship this ship just look at my blog and look at the art Ive made along with the hcs I wrote about claylex. All listed under claylex tag. Easy to find and read. I wrote a lot about how I view their relationship and how it’d work. Just look if you truly are curious.

Im so glad you gave me your opinion that I didnt ask for. Im sure you feel very fulfilled. “To me and some” oh trust me I know. You and some sure like to make it known that yall dont agree or like with the ship. I get “I dont ship them” every time I post Claylex.

First off, why I ship them is due to my ability to think about how other trolls could fit Clay well as a character. That lead to me evolving how I view claylex. Limiting characters from being shipped with other characters just cause they never met is seriously the most uncreative thing ever, I’m sorry. You dont have to ship it, but dear lord let people get creative and enjoy their ships because they can in fact create entire lore of how and why the relationship works. I could go on and on about why I absolutely love claylex, but I don’t wanna waste it on a comment like this. You may have not intended for it to come out rude, but when someone comes to another who they see ships something to such an extent only to go out their way to say “I dont see it”, “I dont ship it”, “Thats a nah for me”, Like I dont WANT to make you ship claylex and I dont want to put you down for not liking it, but you are going out your way to say this about my most favorite ship that brings me so much powerful comfort. I really dont care if you dont understand it. But seriously, this goes to everyone who comments stuff like this to people who ship characters, if you comment “I dont ship them but” or “I dont ship them and here’s why” It just puts down that person who ships it. Even the ones that are meant to be compliments like “I dont ship it but your arts cute”, like why do you have to add that in? If we didnt ask just move on. You telling me you dont like the ship will NOT make me stop. So why tell me this??

#trolls fandom #trolls tumblr #this goes for everyone about this ship dude. you dont have to like it but I dont have to know you dont it #it doesnt hurt to not go out your way to put down someones comfort ship #especially when it wasnt asked for

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lilypadlys · 25 days ago

Text

Kinktober Day Seventeen: Size Kink

Ship: Aurora/Mountain

Notes: Prompt list by @kroas-adtam. Prompt list here

Tags: size kink, vaginal sex, teasing, cock bulge, cum bulge

Word Count: 531

Read on AO3 or below the cut

Physically it is true that Aurora’s one of the smallest ghouls summoned. She’s even shorter than Mist. Aurora is by no means small in personality however. Even from her upstage platform she manages to let her whole self show at each ritual. Right now though, the word that runs through Mountain’s head is,

Tiny. He has Aurora in his lap, split open by his cock. She’s taking it so well, all things considered, but perhaps she should be the utterly wrecked one. Instead, it's Mountain who feels out of his mind.

Maybe he just has no blood left in his head; all of it racing south at the sight and sensation of Aurora’s tight walls around him. He speculates that maybe she has some quintessence running through her veins in addition to her air and water. In truth, Mountain is simply down bad. And he has a raging size kink.

“Ah-ahh…I’m ready if you want to start moving.” Aurora pants. She shifts on her knees from how she straddles Mountain’s hips. Taking in the glazed look in his eyes she pants his cheek. “Mounty? You with me?”

He blinks at her, a lavender blush tinting his cheeks. “I think I’m going to cum.”

“Haha.” Her laugh is like the tinkling of a bell. “I think that’s the point.”

“Right now I mean. I think I’m going to cum if you even move.” He wheezes.

“Oh?” She gets a mischievous look in her eyes. “So don’t do this?” She rolls her hips and clenches down. Mountain howls.

“Fuck! Hah…shit you're so tight.”

“No, you’re just huge.” She corrects, still rocking her hips until she finds an angle she likes. “Ahh, right there.”

“I’m-oaugh-serious. I don’t think I can move.”

“That’s okay!” She sing songs. “I’ll do all the work.”

She plants her hands on Mountain’s hips and before he can stop her she’s begun to bounce up and down on his cock. Mountain makes a beautiful strangled sound and Aurora tries her hardest to make him do it again.

“Just like that Mounty! Tell me how good I feel.”

“Shit shit shit! I’m gonna-”

Aurora choses that moment to deal the final blow.

“Oh!” She grabs his hand and places it on her belly. “Look at the bump from your cock in me.”

Mountain’s eyes roll straight back in his head and he feels his cock kicking in her as he suddenly cums. She squeals as he spurts his load into her and clenches down, which of course only prolongs Mountain’s orgasm.

“You weren’t kidding.” She giggles as he slumps back, breathing hard.

Mountain hisses at the resulting wave of oversensitivity and his blush deepens.

“Sorry, I really wanted to last longer.”

“That’s okay. How long until you can go again?”

“Umm, couple minutes? Don’t think it’ll take too long like this.” Her walls still flutter around him and he can already feel his cock stiffening back up.

“Okay!” She leans into him and that motion alone makes him whine. “Let me know when you're ready.” She purrs in his ear. “I want to see how big we can get that cum bump.”

Mountain groans and his cock kicks inside her again.

#the band ghost #spicy tag #aurora ghoulette #mountain ghoul #aurora/mountain #size kink #ghost fanfiction #kinktober 2024 #lys writes

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bicheetopuff · 27 days ago

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Hey puff, it's me again!! First of all, I want to offer you my favorite fic of BK to you as an offering.

Second of all- I read through your Puff ask tag again and I was enjoying myself until the part of the ship war pops up. I'm really sorry for anyone who had genuinely got fried due to the fandom spaces being hostile. For my younger fandom experience, I didn't really get into MHA fandom much as a child. I have a fixation over Katsuki and that's that. I wasn't as obsessed of BKDK until 5 months ago because of college and needed something to fill my brain. Then bkdk ended up filling that brain.

Third of all, and what I want of your in depth opinion of is Mitsuki. I'm born in the southeast asia (what country, you can guess lmao) and when ever I actually look at Mitsuki, she remind me of my own mother. She's loud, she hits me as a child and mostly discipline me like how Katsuki is being treated. I always thought it was wrong kind of because I know I was kind of different from the other kids, (in a sense that I have problems mentally and never did get unchecked). Unlike Katsuki, I can't just yell back- and when I talk about this to other family members, they just say that it's normal. My dad is also kinda like Masaru.. just, more distant. Lmao my parents fight all the time that seeing them interact normally felt like something is wrong.

When I see Katsuki and Mitsuki interact I kind of see them having a flawed, but happy nonetheless family in some kind of way. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I can't help but think in some kind of way that yelling might be another form of affection for them(?) Every family have another language for affection right?.. I'm not sure anymore.

So what I'm getting from this is like.. I don't, understand what counts as Abusive or Not. I'm getting better to understand that what my mom did to me as a child is the result of her punishing my misbehaving ass but was it really necessary to hit and scream at me? I'm not really sure. You don't have to answer this ask. I don't want to justify Mitsuki's actions but I also think that she does care about Katsuki. She's just, not good at parenting.

Sorry for the venting kind of ask, I just want to know the line honestly. It's kind of hard to understand where the lines are when you're buried in said line.

It’s not weird at all, I’m sorry for taking so long to respond to this. I wanted to find the time to give a meaningful response when I wasn’t busy.

I think the bnha fandom is the first time I’ve been in a hostile fandom space, but I’m grateful to have found a corner of the internet with minimal hate. But I relate really hard to bkdk filling my brain when I became overwhelmed with college. They became a great escape for me and now two and a half years later, they filled my mind again when I’m going back to college lmao.

My opinion of Mitsuki is kind of in shades of gray… I’m not Asian, however I am a person of color with one of my parents having been an immigrant and she really reminds me of my mother too.

On one hand, she upset me by blaming Katsuki for All Mights retirement and when I realized that it was probably a trend throughout his childhood, it upset me even more, mainly because I related to it. Being told that everything you do is wrong and feeling like you’ll never be good enough for your parents approval, hurts. I don’t care if Katsuki is tough, I know that shit hurt and had a big impact on who he grew up to be.

Having said that, I do kind of appreciate that Katsuki is able to defend himself to some degree without any real punishment. I like that Mitsuki lets him feel angry without shaming him for it, but I also feel like she kind of ignores his feelings, and the fact that she never addressed them and even encouraged him, also effected how he grew up to view himself. He saw himself as someone who’s praised blindly while thinking that he’ll never be good enough for the expectations he set for himself due to his mother degrading him. We’ve never really seen either of his parents celebrate his accomplishments like we’ve seen with other characters so I think his parents don’t really congratulate him because success is what they expect from him. They make more of a big deal out of his losses and faults than anything else.

I try to see them as a happy family as well, but I think that’s just me projecting. Because if their family isn’t happy, then what is mine?

I know for some people yelling and hitting playfully is a form of affection, me included, but it took me a while to realize that there’s a difference between playful fighting and actual fighting. Because, like you, my parents used to fight a lot and as a kid I just began to associate that with love (which probably explains my shit show of a love life lmao).

Again, this is probably just me projecting, but i don’t think I’d use the word “abusive” to describe this kind of family dynamic, especially since it’s basically customary for most children of color to grow up in a similar strict environment. It’s definitely not ideal, but I think it does have a lot to do with culture and generational trauma. I’m sure Mitsuki’s parents weren’t much different.

Where the line is, is up to you ultimately but I think there are certain lines of respect that shouldn’t be crossed for anyone, as just basic human decency. Hitting you, blaming you for things that aren’t your fault, taking away your ability to defend yourself, are lines that are the same for everyone in my eyes. No one should put your hands on you, no one has a right to take away your voice, and no one has a right to make you feel like you’re less than them. I don’t recommend yelling back, but I hope you can find the voice to stand up for yourself on day. Good experiences with parents doesn’t make the bad experiences go away, nor does it justify their bad treatment.

I’m sorry for the winded response, idk if I make any sense because I’m stuck in that cycle myself and didn’t start to realize until more recently what’s bad and what’s good when it comes to family. I hope I didn’t upset or offend you.

To ease the tension, um… I’d like to know what your favorite fic is!

#puff speaks #ask puff #puff answers #I’m not gonna tag anything bnha related because I feel like this post is too personal to put into those spaces #I assume you don’t want that kind of reach when it comes to this subject

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typewriter83 · 29 days ago

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I’m gonna say something rude I’m gonna make people mad (well people on the ship) whatever I know some of your cubs will agree me so yeah. I know you’re sick and I feel badly for saying it but I miss you so much. I miss your stories and omg I how you feel better soon because the ship needs your stories because you actually write a fucking story that’s not depraved or fucking weird. Between you and oldtimerbuckley, your the only ones holding this thing together.

You know, sometimes when I get an anon ask I wonder if the sender can hear me in their head, the low whistling sound I make. This is a lot, and it took me a minute to formulate a response - because trust me, I thought about deleting this, but nah, let’s do this.

This is such a backhanded compliment - I’m sure olldtimerbuckley would appreciate praise for their work, but at the same time would likely be disappointed - like me - that readers are resorting to dragging down other writers in order to raise up certain writers. This has become a recurring theme in fandom where we have to drag some writers through the mud in order to make others feel good. And that’s not what this is about.

See the thing about fandom - and let’s face it, art in general - is that it’s not for everyone. I’m a big fan of Pedro Pascal, that’s pretty well known. I’ve seen almost everything he’s been in but I’m not actively in every fandom - it just doesn’t interest me enough. I devote most of my time to stories about Joel - and even then, I have certain likes and tastes and that’s my personal preference. And my tastes aren’t for everyone.

That includes the forbidden ship. It’s most certainly not for everyone - and once you board the ship, like everyone other ship in fandom, everything on the ship is not for everyone. There is something for everyone on the forbidden ship. What you like is for you and if you don’t like it - don’t fucking read it.

I have looked through the recent stories in the Joel/Ellie tag on ao3 and it looks like - from kudos and comments - that the ship is doing just fine. I’m sorry that it doesn’t appeal to you, but that doesn’t give you the right to try and lift me up by bringing someone else down. Writers in fandom work hard and are passionate about what they write - for free - and the funny thing about fandom writers is that most of us live by a simple philosophy: we write for ourselves and maybe six other like minded people, everything else is just the cherry on the sundae.

I’m flattered that you miss my writing, but I’m disappointed that you felt the need to say what you said.

#mama bear speaks #ask away!#joellie #ellie x joel #joel x ellie

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toasty-self-shipping · 5 months ago

Text

Summer romance part one

a self shipping fic

(repost because tumblr fuck it up)

the weather was getting hot and the beaches were starting to open a group of unusual friends made a plan to hit one to cool off and have fun through one certain alien was really excited since it was his first time at one

“ok let’s see towel sunscreen my heart shape sunglasses oh! can’t forget the bracelets”

cici walked over to her bed and grabbed five pearl like bracelets and put them in his bag and walks out the apartment

“I hope the sun isn’t too strong for me to fly over there ugh I can’t never ride subway again ever since that accident”

he begins to fly off luckily the clouds were out so the sun wasn’t too hard on cici

she pulls out her to check the location of the beach boyfriend sent a text message saying “when you see the Ferris wheel that’s when you know you found it” cici looks up and sees it

“oh there it is! wow there’s a lot of people here” he lowered herself down to the entrance and spots girlfriend boyfriend pico along with Darnell and nene

“why me and girlfriend and boyfriend are like the only three that are dressed for the beach and two are wearing long sleeve shirts!”

pico and Darnell rolled their eyes

“look your ass is going to freeze later on when the sun goes down and me and Darnell are going to be the only ones to stay warm”

Darnell nodded his head

“plus there’s some things I wanna graffiti on so this jacket is good for hiding my spray cans”

cici finally reaches to them after going through the crowd of people

“hey guys! sorry for taking so long to get here it was hard to get through a bunch of people”

“that’s ok we’re glad you could made it”

“I made something really pretty for all of us” she reaches into his bag and pulls out 5 bracelets “I made some matching bracelets for beach! you guys don’t have to wear them if jewelry isn’t your thing-“

“of course we wear them” boyfriend grabs a bracelet along with girlfriend

“they are very beautiful cici the pearls are pretty” girlfriend puts it on her arm

you made us one to? nene grabs a bracelet

“well of course I made you guys one! I didn’t want anybody to feel left out”

“I’m not a big fan of bracelets but I take it and put it in my pocket” pico takes the bracelet and puts it in his pocket

“yeah same I’m more of a earring guy but I take it” Darnell puts the bracelet in his back pocket

“so what’s the first we should do there’s a lot of stuff here to do” girlfriend asked the group

“well going to the beach area is on my mind I wanna get in the water to cool off and look for seashells”

“going to the beach does sound good to me”

“Mm yeah I can go with that! what about you guys wanna tag along with us” girlfriend asked pico

“well we were just going to the beach later around around like when the sun goes down a little bit” pico said to girlfriend

“plus we was going to the amusement park center to play some games right nene” Darnell looks at her

“huh oh! yeah the game and maybe win some prizes to” she was looking at bracelet

“ok then we you guys later let’s get to the beach before the day is over!” cici grabs girlfriend and boyfriend hands and runs off

“man it’s amazing how strong she is you guys ready to hit the park”

“yep!”

“alright let’s go”

Taglist: @starshroom-doodles @lex-n-weegie @animutate @lollipopjewel @r0sedevil @lovinglin @wisp-herr-rbs @jils-things @ava-ships @devilishstylist @lunarbun-ships @insertive-not-assertive @peachygalacticmenace @hubun @cupiidzbow @qilinkisser @femininelookingmale @normal-looking-male @ttimecode

#if you reblog this post just delete it because tumblr really messed it and just reblog the new one #my fics #self shipping #self shipping community #fnf selfship

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ironwoman359 · 1 year ago

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A Thief's Gamble - Ch.1:

No Risk, No Reward

Next: Ch.2 - All Eyes on Us Fic Masterpost

Summary: Brynjolf is certain that the only way the Thieves Guild will return to its glory days is by bringing in new, talented members. Unfortunately, Mercer doesn't agree, and it's not like Brynjolf's latest attempts at recruiting have gone well. But when he meets a stranger in the marketplace one morning, he's willing to take the risk and bring her on board....only time will tell if his gamble pays off.

Content: Brynjolf POV, Thieves Guild quest spoilers, game typical violence

Ships: Brynjolf x Dragonborn OC (slowburn)

Word Count: 2,781

Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!

AN: I have nothing to say for myself other than that Brynjolf is one of my favorite Skyrim characters, and this is an excuse for me to flesh him out both as an individual and in relation to the player. Has this probably been done a thousand times? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not. Thanks for reading! (and let me know if you want to be tagged in updates, I'll do so if you like!)

--- --- ---

Brynjolf had a headache.

He’d had a faint one building behind his eyes for most of the day, but after listening to Keerava complain- loudly- that the Guild was asking more than she could afford for protection and that if he knew what was good for him he’d jump of the pier…his head was well and truly pounding.

“Want me to top that off for you, Bryn?”

Brynjolf blinked, and looked up to see Vekel looking at him expectantly, a flagon in his hand.

“Sorry lad, what was that?”

Vekel chuckled, and filled Brynjolf’s tankard with ale.

“You’ve been distracted lately, my friend. Better not let Mercer catch you staring off into space like that.”

“Now there’s an earful I don’t need,” Brynjolf agreed, lifting his tankard in acknowledgement before taking a swig.

“Well, go on then,” Vekel prodded. “Tell us what’s going on in that big brain of yours.”

“It’s nothing lad, just a headache,” Brynjolf said, but Vekel shook his head.

“I’m not just talking about today, Bryn, you’ve been off ever since you pulled that job on Brand-Shei.”

“Have I?” Brynolf asked, and Vekel nodded.

“You have. Which doesn’t track,” Dirge piped up, walking over to the bar. “Because you said that the job went off without a hitch.”

“So if you’re not thinking about the job, what are you thinking about?” Vekel asked.

A face came to Brynjolf’s mind unbidden, bright eyes and sharp features framed by dark hair, but he pushed the image away.

“You know as well as I do that the Guild’s seen better days, lads,” he said, taking another sip. “Just trying to work out how to bring her back to her former glory.”

“Aaaah, so that’s why you’ve been distracted these past few days,” Vekel said knowingly. “You think you’ve found another recruit, don’t you?”

“So what if I have?” Brynjolf demanded, arching an eyebrow at the barkeep. “If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: what this outfit needs is some fresh blood.”

“Except the last three recruits you tried to bring on board washed out before they could make any serious coin,” Dirge pointed out, and Brynjolf frowned.

“At least I’m actually trying to solve the problem,” he said. “If we ever want to get back on our feet, the Thieves Guild needs to actually employ some master thieves.”

“Aaaand, the last few kids you pulled into this mess were ‘master thief’ material?” Dirge asked, and Vekel snickered.

“Give it up, Brynjolf,” he said. “Those days are over.”

Brynjolf sighed.

“I’m telling you, this one is different…” he began, but Dirge scoffed.

“We’ve all heard that one before, Bryn! Quit kidding yourself.”

Brynjolf opened his mouth to reply, but paused. Beneath his friends’ ribbing and the quiet clinking of cups on tables and forks on plates from the Flagon’s few other patrons, there was another sound. The sound of boots on stone, the steps slow and cautious as they approached.

“It’s time to face the truth, old friend,” Vekel said. “You, Vex, Mercer…you’re all part of a dying breed. Things are changing!”

Brynjolf turned, saw exactly who he’d hoped he would, and a smile spread across his face.

“Dying breed, eh?” he repeated. “Well what do you call that then!”

The woman was slight, an Imperial by the looks of her, and she had a bow drawn, one arrow knocked loosely on the string.

“Well well, color me impressed, lass,” Brynjolf said, nodding to her. “I wasn’t certain I’d ever see you again.”

The woman’s eyes flitted around, lingering on Dirge for a moment before eventually slinging her bow over her shoulder.

“Getting here was easy,” she said, stowing her arrow in its quiver.

Brynjolf chuckled.

“Reliable and headstrong? You’re proving to be quite the prize. The name’s Brynjolf, lass.”

“Ariene,” said the Imperial.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Brynjolf said. “So... now that I've whetted your appetite with our little scheme at the market, how about handling a few deadbeats for me?"

Ariene frowned, shifting her weight.

“Deadbeats?” she asked. “What’d they do?”

“They owe our organization some serious coin, and they’ve decided not to pay,” Brynjolf explained. “I want you to explain to them the error of their ways.”

Ariene nodded thoughtfully.

“Sounds good…who are they?”

“Keerava,” Brynjolf said, ticking the marks off on his fingers, “Bersi Honey-Hand, and Haelga. Do this right, and I can promise you a permanent place in our organization.”

“And…how do you want me to handle it?” Ariene asked carefully.

Brynjolf sighed, his mind drifting back to the insults that Keerava had thrown at him that morning.

“Honestly? The debt is secondary here. What’s more important is that you get the message across that we are to be ignored.” He frowned, and looked pointedly at the bow strapped to Ariene’s back. “A word of warning though…I don’t want any of them killed. Bad for business.”

To his surprise, Ariene’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and she nodded.

“Will I get a cut?” she asked, and Brynjolf laughed.

“Of course you’ll get a cut. We take care of our own.”

“Then consider it done.”

“Alright then lass, get going. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

The woman nodded and turned without another word, heading back into the ratways the way she came.

Brynjolf grinned, and turned back to Dirge and Vekel.

“Anything to say now, lads?”

“Sure, she made it down here,” Vekel said dismissively. “But that doesn’t make her a master thief. A hundred septims says she’ll turn out just like all the others.”

“I told you Vekel, this one is different,” Brynjolf insisted.

Still, as he sat back down at the bar, it was hard to ignore the facts. He’d been trying to breathe new life into the Guild, but Vekel and Dirge had a point. Previous recruits hadn’t stuck around long. Some didn’t keep up a high standard of work, others realized how poor the Guild’s standing really was and abandoned it. A few had even been caught and either killed or imprisoned.

Brynjolf knew Mercer was running out of patience with his attempts, but he didn’t see any other options. They couldn’t rely solely on Maven forever, and the way Brynjolf saw it, their dwindling reputation and cash flow needed to be addressed, or the Guild, and everyone in it, would be history.

You’d better come through for me, lass, he thought, bringing his tankard to his lips. Because I’m putting my last bet on you.

--- --- ---

Despite his high hopes, part of Brynjolf was worried that the woman would simply take the money for herself and disappear after shaking down her three marks. After all, it’d taken her several days to reappear in the ratways after the job on Brand-Shei, and Brynjolf had been doing this for a long time.

His gut told him that she would pull through, but having a contingency was just as important as having good instincts. He’d put the word out to his contacts within the city guard to alert him if an imperial woman fitting Ariene's description tried to skip town, and he had a few others keeping eyes on the docks and weak points in the city walls in case she tried to slip out that way.

Mercer had given him the usual grief about wasting manpower, but Brynjolf knew that if the coin came through, he’d let the matter go. And as the day drew to a close and no runners came bursting into the Flagon to tell him that his recruit had killed one of the marks or vanished with his gold, the more sure he became that this had been a good call.

“I still don’t know about this, Bryn,” Delvin grumbled. “Even if this new recruit of yours is as good as you say, that don’t mean that the curse ain’t gonna affect them, same as the rest of us.”

Brynjolf rolled his eyes.

“Mentioning the curse in every other conversation isn’t going to make more people believe you, old man. It’s just going to make them think you’re crazy.”

“You can call me what you like,” Delvin said, shrugging. “Don’t change the facts.”

“Brynjolf,” Dirge called, and Brynjolf looked up to see Ariene walking towards them, a sack of gold in her hand.

“Well well, look who’s back,” he said, shooting a smug look over his shoulder at Delvin, who just shook his head and took a sip of his ale.

“So lass,” he said, getting to his feet. “Job’s done, and you even brought the gold.” He spotted movement behind her, and saw one of his runners slip into the Flagon. They flashed him a quick hand signal, and he smiled. “Best of all, you did it clean. I like that. Dumping bodies and keeping the guards quiet can be expensive.”

Ariene nodded, and held out the coin purse.

“Here’s what they owed us,” she said, and Brynjolf took it.

“Well done, lass. And it would seem I owe you something in return.”

He turned and picked up a few potion bottles from the table behind him.

“Here you go, I think you’ll find these quite useful.”

Ariene took them, examined them for a moment, then nodded, slipping them into a satchel at her side.

“What’s next, then?” she asked.

“Well,” Brynjolf said, hefting the bag of coin in his hand. “Judging from how well you handled those shopkeepers, I’d say you’ve done more than simply prove yourself.”

He looked back at Delvin and raised an eyebrow. The man nodded, and Brynjolf smiled at Ariene.

“We need people like you in our outfit.”

Ariene looked around, and Brynjolf saw her eyes linger on the rickety tables, on the grime covering the tankards, and the empty seats covered in dust. She looked up at him, and after a moment of meeting his gaze, she nodded.

“If there’s more gold where that came from, then I’m in.”

“That’s the spirit!” Brynjolf said, grinning. “Larceny’s in your blood…the telltale sign of a practiced thief. I think you’ll do more than just fit in around here.”

Brynjolf turned to lead her to the cistern but she hesitated.

“Before we go, I have to ask…” she trailed off, and looked around the room again.

“What’s on your mind?” Brynjolf asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Word is your outfit isn’t doing…well.” One side of her mouth ticked up in a half smile, and she gestured vaguely around them. “True?”

Brynjolf chuckled.

“You’re a sharp one, lass. Aye, we’ve run into a bit of a rough patch lately…but it’s nothing to be concerned about.” He let out a sigh, then flashed her a small smile. “Tell you what. You keep making us coin, and I’ll worry about everything else. Fair enough?”

Ariene nodded slowly.

“Fair enough.”

“Now, if there are no more questions? How about you follow me, and I’ll show you what we’re all about.”

Brynjolf led Ariene through the back room, sliding away the false panel in the storage cupboard and stepping through to the passageway beyond.

“So everyone in the tavern back there, they’re all members?” Ariene asked.

“Not everyone is,” Brynjolf explained. “Vekel owns the Ragged Flagon, and Dirge works for him. Tonilia, well, she’s got her own business. But they all work closely with us. We keep coin in each other's pockets and watch each other's backs.”

“And you lead the Guild?” asked Ariene, and Brynjolf scoffed.

“Me? No, lass. I’m just a lieutenant. I keep things running as smooth as I can, but I’m no Guildmaster. Mercer is the one who makes the decisions around here. And speaking of…”

He led her into the cistern, where Mercer was waiting for them on the dais in the center of the room.

"Mercer?” he called. “This is the one I was talking about...our new recruit."

Mercer sighed and folded his arms.

"This better not be another waste of the Guild's resources, Brynjolf," he said.

He turned to Ariene, and looked her up and down slowly. A frown spread across his face, and he folded his arms.

"Before we continue, I want to make one thing perfectly clear,” he said, addressing her. “If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules and you lose your share. No debates, no discussions... you do what we say, when we say.”

Ariene raised an eyebrow and folded her arms, mirroring Mercer’s pose.

“Do I make myself clear?" Mercer demanded, and Ariene glanced over at Brynjolf.

“Rules?” she asked, looking back to Mercer. “We’re thieves. What’s the point of rules?

Mercer took a slow step forward, stopping only when he was mere inches away from her face, and Brynjolf grimaced.

“I'll let that comment go because you're new here,” Mercer growled. “Ask things out of turn again, and we have a problem. Now, are. We. Clear?"

Ariene, to her credit, didn’t react beyond a slight tensing of her shoulders, and she nodded once.

“Crystal,” she said evenly.

“Good,” Mercer said, stepping back. “Then I think it's time we put your expertise to the test."

“Wait a moment,” Brynjolf said, frowning. There was only one job going on at the moment that Mercer was concerning himself with…a job that Brynjolf had not intended for a fresh recruit to try and take on all alone. “You’re not talking about Goldenglow, are you?” he asked, and Mercer nodded. “Even our little Vex couldn’t get in!”

Mercer just raised an eyebrow.

“You claim this recruit possesses an aptitude for our line of work. If so, let her prove it.”

“Goldenglow?” Ariene repeated, and Mercer turned back to her.

“Goldenglow Estate is critically important to one of our largest clients,” he explained. “However, the owner has suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands and shut us out. He needs to be taught a lesson. Brynjolf will provide you with the details."

He turned, clearly signaling that the conversation was over, and Brynjolf folded his arms.

“Mercer. Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Hmm?” he looked back at them, and Brynjolf looked pointedly at Ariene. “Oh, yes. Since Brynjolf assures me you'll be nothing but a benefit to us, then you're in. Welcome to the Thieves Guild.”

He turned and strode away, and Brynjolf blew out a breath before smiling at Ariene with what he hoped was a reassuring expression.

“Well he’s cheerful,” Ariene said quietly, a grin playing at the edge of her mouth, and Brynjolf tilted his head.

“How much of that ignorance was on purpose?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“I wanted to see how he’d respond to confrontation. Evidently, not well.”

“Well, I could have told you that,” Brynjolf said with a quiet laugh. “But never mind that now. You’re in. Welcome to the family, lass. I'm expecting you to make us a lot of coin, so don't disappoint me."

Ariene nodded.

“So how do I get my cut of the spoils?” she asked.

“Simple,” Brynjolf replied. “Do as you're told and keep your blade clean. We can't turn a profit by killing.”

“Fine by me.”

“You should talk with Delvin Mallory and Vex. They know their way around this place and they'll be able to kick some extra jobs your way. Oh, and talk to Tonilia in the Flagon... she'll set you up with your new armor.”

“Speaking of the Flagon, I could use a drink,” Ariene said. “Let me buy you one too…as an apology for upsetting Mercer.”

Brynjolf shook his head.

“I told you lass, you just worry about making us coin. I’ll worry about everything else, and that includes Mercer, alright?”

“Well then...consider it a thank you,” she suggested.

“A thank you?” he repeated, and she actually looked a tad sheepish.

“I can tell you were taking a chance, bringing me in to all of this,” she said, her voice quiet. “It was a risk; a risk that you didn’t have to take. And I…appreciate that.”

Brynjolf smiled.

“Well, I suppose I have time for a quick drink. A drink, and a toast to the newest member of the Guild.”

Ariene brightened, and turned to head out of the cistern and back into the Flagon. Brynjolf went to follow, but glanced back over his shoulder. Mercer stood at his desk, leaning over a set of plans with a frown on his face.

“Tell you what lass,” Brynjolf said slowly. “You go on ahead, introduce yourself to the others. I’ll join you in a moment, and we can discuss business.”

Ariene nodded, and Brynjolf watched her go, waiting until the door to the Flagon closed behind her before turning and striding across the room.

“Mercer!” he said, and Mercer glared up at him. “We need to talk.”

--- --- ---

Next: Ch.2

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roosterbox · 6 months ago

Note

hey! found your blog the other day and i love it<3

do you have any arthut/eames fic recommendations? i rewatched the movie a week ago and can't stop thinking about them

(sorry about the wait!)

First of all, hey there! Hello! Glad you found me, and glad to know you liked Inception. Hard to believe that it’s still drawing so many people in, 14 years on.

Second of all…

Oh baby. Oh man. Not just fic recs, but A/E fic recs? Yesssssssss my time has come.

First, there are a couple of writers whose entire oeuvre you should definitely check out if you haven’t.

Lolahardy, whose Dreamhusbands work is vast and varied, but here are a few of my own favorites (important note: no links because Lola’s fics are currently locked, but they are easily findable if you have an AO3 account, and you should definitely check out all of them, not just the few I mentioned here!):

In Every Universe - the fic that will never die, lol. So many great A/E stories here, but for me, the biggest draw are the other JGL/TH ships contained within. My personal favorite is Forrest/Evelyn, who I almost love even more than A/E at this point. Also, so many tropes and kinks and whatnot. Safe to say, I’m positive you’ll find a lot of different things to enjoy!

Le Mal Du Pays - this one is just lovely. I reread it again for this rec list and boy… still amazing. The chapters set during canon are so good, it’s like watching the movie again, but with the added bonus of actual A/E in the plot, you know?

Love is Strange - A/E by way of Dirty Dancing! I love it when you can enjoy an AU based on a very specific property even without having seen said property. For example, I adore everything about this fic even though I have never watched DD, not even once, lol.

OneWhoSitsWithTurtles, whose A/E work is never anything less than stellar and beautiful, and regularly makes me cry. Also, they have works in other fandoms that are equally worth checking out!

Christmas Without You (Is a Christmas Not Worth Having) - the best. The pinnacle. If ever you (or anyone else, for that matter) were curious about what my favorite A/E fic of all time is? Here’s your answer.

Dream of Me - This one is just beautiful. A simple little somewhat canon-compliant love story. So sugary sweet at times, it runs the risk of being tooth-rotting. But I’m always willing to take that risk.

39 Days to Fall in Love - the survivor AU you didn’t know you were missing. Seriously, it’s so good it might make you want to watch Survivor if you haven’t already, even if you know there’s no Arthur or Eames in it, lol.

Lullaby - Hands down, the saddest A/E fic I have ever read, and certainly in the running for saddest fic period. Seriously, it’s beautiful and worth reading but don’t go in without some tissues.

The Bumblebee and the Flower who Fell in Love - Also very sad, but so very whimsical and sweet besides. A/E works well in seemingly silly setups like this.

And now, for a few more individual recs. Mind you, a lot of my recs are a bit older - I really need to go back and peruse through the ship tag to find new stuff to bookmark - but hey, something something wine metaphors, lol.

End of the Road - this one is so cool. If you like Mad Max Fury Road and ever wondered what it would be like if you combined it with A/E (sort of) and some A/B/O Dynamics, you can’t do better than this.

Quiet Desperation - a lovely little A/E and 00q crossover story! I would read an entire series of this if it existed.

Next Big Thing - A/E as judges on a HGTV reality show. Classic! The exact kind of fairly low stakes drama I can get behind. No spoilers, but my favorite character is Misty Rainbow. For one scene in particular. If you read it, you’ll know exactly which one. Also I wish this show was real.

The Party - heavy subject matter in this one (heed the tags), but getting through the rough stuff makes the eventual fluffier bits almost extra sweet.

Out of Reach - a recent addition to my ranks, but absolutely beautiful. The emotions are so palpable and heartfelt.

And… would it be completely shameless if I included a couple of mine? I don’t like to toot my own horn too much, but since nobody else ever puts me on their reclists, why not, right?

Darling I’m Killed - my somewhat still ongoing Inception/Bond crossover. There are two sequels, and I have no concrete ideas for more yet, but there’s potential.

(I Would Like To) Paint the Way a Bird Sings - the Paint Shop AU that wouldn’t quit, lol. Still can’t believe I actually finished it. Four ships for the price of one in this fic!

Other inception fandom peeps, feel free to reblog and add any fics or authors you like! Especially more recent stuff because I am such a fandom oldtimer, lmao.

Thanks for the ask! I love recommending fics! Also thanks for the follow!

Happy reading!!

❤️

#answering asks #inception #arthur x eames #fic recs #thanks so much for asking #i love reccing fics #especially when there's an excuse #to gush about a very personal favorite of mine #lol #side note: pls pls pls let me know if any links don't work #i swear #making posts with multiple links is such a travesty

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dxncingwithastrxnger · 1 year ago

Text

1. one step closer

A/N: Hello everyone!! I present to you my very first LoZ fic!!! And also my first ever poly ship fic that's been posted, so I hope I do this as well as I'd like to. This story is actually inspired by a post I came across that was posted by @fangirlingpuggle, who gave me permission to use their idea as story inspiration!! I'll provide a link to the post if you'd like to see it!! Now, one thing I'd like to say about this story is that it's not just a Sidlink fic or just a Linkona fic. It is also a Sidyona fic. It is all three ships. I will try to balance out each one, showing each individual love story, plus the big one of just all three together. I have not yet decided which ship will be getting together first, or if it'll be an all three all at once type of thing, and because of my indecision, I would like to hear from you guys, my lovely readers, as the story progresses, on which ship you think would make the most sense when it comes to getting together first. It all depends on how I write it out, of course, but I just wanted to let y'all know ahead of time!! Last thing, this chapter is a little short compared to where the other chapters will be at length-wise, but it's also just a letter exchange this chapter, so there will be lots more in the next chapter!! Enjoy!!

Inspiration Post

Pairing(s): N/A

Summary: Sidon and Yona exchange a series of letters, keeping each other updated on everything happening in their lives, as childhood friends do

Tag(s): N/A

Word Count: 2,258

Song Inspiration: A Thousand Years By Christina Perri

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Chapter 1]

~*~

[Read on AO3]

[Series Masterlist]

~*~

Dear Lady Yona,

I hope this letter finds you well. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you, things around here have been a bit busy. Vah Ruta, the divine beast that my late sister Mipha once piloted, well, something has gone wrong with it. It's caused a near constant downpour of rain here in our domain and if we don't find a way to stop it, our reservoir will flood over the dam and completely take over not only our home, but much of the rest of Hyrule as well. And of course, us Zoras can survive just fine in such a situation, but the others in our land cannot, none of them have such an affinity for water as the Zora do.

With that in mind, I am terribly worried. We've been doing so much research it's making my head spin. I'm not sure I can take staring at another book right now, especially when everything it says is completely useless to our attempts in finding a solution to this problem. I just pray that we find a way to stop it soon.

How are things over in your domain? Good, I hope. I would never wish anything like the mess here on anyone. I miss you much, my friend, though I know if you were to visit right now, I would not be very good company to keep. And alas, I cannot bring myself to leave home at a time like this. As prince, I must face this head on. But once this is all over, we can work out the details, I suppose, no matter how far off that is. Get back to me whenever you find the time to do so.

Sincerely,

Sidon

~*~

Dear Prince Sidon,

Oh my. Please be careful. I, too, will be praying for a quick success in taming that divine beast. I wish I could help in some way. I am sending with this letter the few sheikah books I could find in our royal library, though I'm not sure if they'll be of any help, considering the sheikah have never spent much time here. But it's the least I can do. And do not worry about sending them back once you've looked over them. These have been collecting dust for decades over here. They will be much better off with you.

Things here in my domain are very well, though nothing very exciting has happened at the domain itself. However, recently, I've taken on two new handmaidens. Mother suggested I have them, especially since I've started doing a lot more traveling around our land. Khira and Chroma are lovely, when they're not bickering at least. Chroma can be a bit easily frazzled and Khira is usually very serious and strict. But I just try to remind them both that I am not counting on either of them being perfect. Just their companionship alone is wonderful to have.

But anyways. On your land, you have those winged tribe, yes? Those that resemble birds? I remember meeting one when we were younger, but I never had much contact with them besides that. But in my travels, I came across a very small village of them on our land! All the way across the sea! But they're much more colorful than the one I met. Brilliant greens and oranges and reds. I spent a few days there, learning about them and their culture. It's absolutely fascinating!

I may visit them again eventually, but for now, I've come back to the domain for awhile. I'll be setting out again soon, so I'll be sure to tell you lots more of my next adventure. And once this whole divine beast thing has settled down, I'll come visit your domain as soon as I can. Besides, mother has been a lot more pushy recently when it comes to our...arrangement. She believes it is time for me to finally marry, though I've tried to remind her that it's not just up to her and I, but you and your father as well. But there's no need to worry about that right now. That's for another time. Take care, dear Sidon, and I hope to hear from you again soon.

Yours,

Yona

~*~

Dear Lady Yona,

Thank you so much for the texts you sent. I will be going through them soon. The rain is still neverending, but we're learning to get used to it for now. It's all we can do. And do not worry, I am being as careful as I can be. But enough of that. I'm so glad to hear of you going on such wonderful adventures, Yona. The... winged tribe, as you say, those are the Rito. It is indeed fascinating to learn of some being on your land, I thought they were only in Hyrule. The way you've described them, I bet they are quite the sight. Maybe one day I shall get to see them as well.

Tell me, what is having handmaidens like? I've always wondered. I have nothing of the sort, though I'm okay with that. Is it true they always follow you around and try to do everything for you that you may usually do yourself? I could never imagine having to deal with such a thing. Though my only experience with them is the few vague memories I have of Mipha having one and the stories I've heard about them, so maybe I'm not one who could be so biased against them.

Oh, yes. Our arranged marriage does seem to be coming up more and more these days. Both here and there, it seems. Father has been talking about it as well. Says he wants me to be prepared for when I finally take the throne, but I'm not so sure that will be happening anytime soon. But I suppose it would be best for us all to talk about it eventually. Once Vah Ruta is back to her normal self, our domain will happily host both you and your mother. Until then, I can't wait to hear of all your adventures to come. Please do keep in touch to the best of your abilities during your travels, I will find great joy in reading about them.

Sincerely,

Sidon

~*~

Dear Prince Sidon,

Ah, yes, the Rito! Forgive me for forgetting their name, it's been so long since I've heard it. Those I found here did not go by that name. They called themselves the Zitty. But they were the same species, I'm sure of it. Next time you find yourself on my land, I will definitely be sure to take you to see them. They're quite the lively bunch, and wonderful company to keep. I think you would fit in very well with them.

Silly Sidon. Yes, some handmaidens are very much like that. However, Khira and Chroma are not. While they do follow me to most places, they do not attempt to do something for me unless I ask it of them, thankfully. I could not handle being coddled in such a way either, so I am very grateful that they are not pushy in that regard. And no worries, I take none of your assumptions unkindly. I am happy to answer any questions you may have, about handmaidens or otherwise. You know that.

That sounds like a very good idea. I'm sure mother would love to spend some time overseas as well. Oh, it's been so long since I've paid a visit, I can't wait. Has any progress been made with Vah Ruta? Did my books help you at all? I apologize if they did not, though I hope that something has been found either way. Please keep me updated.

Yours,

Yona

~*~

Dear Lady Yona,

Yona. I cannot believe what this day has become. I do apologize if my writing isn't the best, I just can't keep myself from shaking. So much has happened in just this last pass of the sun through the sky. I will start with this. All of our research finally paid off and the books you sent me were definitely of great help with that. We learned of the way Vah Ruta works, of her mechanisms and what controls the water she spews. The best solution is to shock her system with electricity, like shock arrows. However, as you know, electricity is deadly to Zora, therefore we cannot use them.

Because of this, we'd begun asking for help. Traveling a bit away from the domain and looking for travelers, asking if any of them would be willing. We had no luck finding such a person, until yesterday. A young traveler was making his way past and I asked for his help. Later I found out that many others had spoken to him as well about what was going on. I asked for his help and he actually said yes! I was beyond grateful. He carried with him armor and weaponry, including a bow and arrow, so I already had high hopes for his success. He made his way to our domain and I did as well, trying to guide him whenever our paths crossed.

I had asked his name when we first met, and I didn't think too much of it at first. His name is Link. I'm sure he wouldn't be the first to be named after such a well-known hero. However, upon bringing him to meet my father, I found that I had been wrong. My father knows this young man. Because this Link is the same exact Link from one hundred years ago! And he came here to our domain to fix Vah Ruta as part of his quest to complete what was started all those years ago.

Oh, Yona, he's even more amazing than either one of us has ever imagined. Even better than all of our childish wonders. Him and I worked together quite closely in order to get Vah Ruta working properly again. I carried him on my back as I swam through the reservoir, getting as close to Vah Ruta as I dared so that he could shoot each of her mechanisms. I would launch him up and he would shoot up into the air, pulling his bow out with such ease. Once he had an arrow nocked, it was like time slowed down just for him. He made perfect shots each time. And then he ventured inside the divine beast to destroy the beast inside, the waterblight created by Calamity Ganon all those years ago, the same one that killed my sister, Mipha.

As soon as he was inside, I returned to the domain and waited anxiously for his return. He was gone for so long. He only just returned about an hour before I'm writing this, and the moon was already high in the sky. And when he finally returned, he looked exhausted. But miraculously, not a single serious injury was on him. He was covered in scratches and bruises, dried blood on most of them, and dirt all over his face, but that was the worst of it. And Yona, oh Yona. He's so beautiful. He's fierce, determined, kind, and gorgeous. I can understand why my sister fell for him so. I can't get him out of my head and my entire body is positively vibrating with excitement.

Now that Vah Ruta is tamed, you must come right away. With your mother, too, of course. You must come and meet him. He'll be staying in the domain for a few weeks before he moves on, so he'll definitely still be here when you arrive. Oh, I can't wait for you to see him. Please, come as soon as you can.

Sincerely,

Sidon

~*~

Dear Prince Sidon,

My friend, I write to you as my bags are being packed for my visit to your domain. Mother is delighted to be taking the trip and much like you, I find myself buzzing with excitement. What you've described...I cannot believe it. Link? The Link? How is that even possible? Oh, I'm sure you'll explain it when I get there. I'm so glad that the threat to your land is no more, I am so very grateful for whatever brought such a hero to your domain.

Oh, I want to know all about him. I haven't felt such a feeling since we were children, Sidon. And even now, my childish dreams are coming back to me, even if I know how silly they are. What do you think he thinks of you? What do you think he'll think of me? Do you think he likes women or men? Maybe both? What things does he like? What things does he dislike? I can't wait to ask.

Oh my, the excitement is overwhelming. I apologize for how short of a letter this is. It's mostly just to tell you that we will be leaving shortly and should arrive soon after this letter does. I cannot wait to see you again, Sidon. Make sure you put in a good word for me with our new hero friend, if it's not too much to ask.

Yours,

Yona

~*~

A/N: What did y'all think?? Please let me know!! I'd love to hear your thoughts!!! All feedback is much appreciated!!!

~*~

Taglist:

@fangirlingpuggle

@soniclozdplove

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story and any others relating to it!!!

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