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Clapping cheering whooping and hollering always and forever this universe has me down bad! And my dear sweet Bradshawsbabys world building! Chefs kiss unmatched unparalleled- everyone say thank you we are blessed! Blessed! (Now for me to get back on my Bobby boy Shit - imma get my heart broken by the ww2 au again I will I’m just not emotionally ready to handle it you know)

Lovely and fantastical as always

Xx

Si Vis Amari Ama

V. Revelations

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairings: Rooster (Roman Name: Gallus) x Female Reader (Roman Name: Sabina), featuring Hangman (Roman Name: Carnifex) x Phoenix

Summary: A girl whose freedom was stolen to pay her father’s debts. A gladiator enslaved for the entertainment of Rome. A love they never thought possible.

Author’s Note: And we’re back! Once again, I apologize for how long it’s taken me to update this series. This chapter went through a lot of revisions, but it opens the door for a lot of events that will happen later in the story. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: Slavery in the ancient world, angst, discussion of atrocities committed in the past, allusions to physical abuse, references to injuries and gladiatorial combat, mentions of death, slow burn romance, alternating point of view.

Keep reading

[shouyuus]

chapter three: sleep of the living, dreams of the dead

roronoa zoro, 4,958 words; fluff and angst, enemies to lovers, relationship progress being made, emotionally constipated!zoro, slow burn, captain!luffy being captain, decent amount of banter, slow healing, strawhat!reader, tru hurt/comfort, no "y/n", domestic fluff

summary: in which zoro helps you make sakura-mochi and you keep good on your promise

a/n: we are indeed getting somewhere in their relationship!!! we get some fluffy moments of respite in this chapter <3 i hope you all enjoy!

< to the table of contents

That night, swinging in his hammock, he tries to picture it, as he’d so often done in the past — wondering about you, picturing you. Before seeing you again, he’d tried to imagine what you might look like, based solely on his memory. He spares a moment now to wonder, staring up at the moon-slatted ceilings of his small room — why? Why you?

You weren’t the only person in that sleepy little town, and you definitely weren’t close enough for him to call you a friend. But then again, he reflects bitterly, the only person he’d considered a friend from then is dead.

So suppose you are the next best thing. Suppose it’s just the nebulous workings of the human mind, of the brush-stroke memories he’d attached to the shape of you simply because you were there. And you were different.

Different from all the other boys and girls at the doujou. Different from him and Kuina too.

And there, something clunks inside his chest, blunt and oppressive, the same way it had when he’d run into that Tashigi girl in Loguetown. So maybe that’s it — maybe he’d held onto the memory of you because it was one of the last solid things that tied him to Kuina. You and the Wadou Ichimonji. But as much as other swordsmen might wax poetic about how a blade is a living thing, he can’t reminisce with a sword, can’t share a drink over those silver-lining days and star-spangled nights.

Sometimes if he closes his eyes, he can still hear it, the sound clear as if it were echoing into his room from the decks above — you and Kuina laughing, your heads bent over the basket of sweets, eyes glittering as you picked all the prettiest ones.

It was the only time he’d ever seen Kuina smile the way she did. The only time he’d seen you look so pleased.

The dull clatter in his chest sharpens to a throbbing ache, as flesh would around a fresh knife wound. He flips over onto his side and sighs.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

The memory comes to him, clear and sharp as fresh-cut glass. The autumn sun paints thick streaks across the doujou floors, and afternoon practice has just ended. You’re sitting by the door, your hands folded neatly in your lap, your hair twisted back in a simple braid that fell over your right shoulder, tied off with a dark red bow. Anyone could see the care that was taken with it — the love inherent in the simple detail.

Zoro makes a show of stretching his arms over his head, yawning as the other boys all scramble towards you, Shimotsuki-sensei tutting as he watches, an indulgent grin on his lips.

“Gimme the blue one!”

“No I want the blue one!”

“Fine then gimme the yellow one!”

“I want the one that’s three layers!”

“That one is the prettiest —”

“As if you know what pretty means.”

“Yeah, well real men don’t like pretty things.”

Zoro scoffs, turning his head resolutely away. But a while later, you patter over with your basket, dropping down in front of him.

“There’s still the sakura one left, if you’d like.”

Zoro frowns, “A — a real swordsman knows the meaning of abstinence.”

You giggle, reaching into your basket to pull out a plain-looking mochi, pale pink and powdered in sugar. Zoro can tell from the dark red bleeding through the translucent skin that there’s an azuki filling — his favorite.

He gulps.

“Well, how can you know abstinence… if you don’t know indulgence first?”

Zoro chews on his lips for a second before making a show of rolling his eyes and plucking the mochi from your hand. He bites into it and swallows passed a delighted shiver. It’s delicious — the azuki sweet and creamy, the cherry-blossom skin perfectly chewy. It sticks to his teeth in the best way and he has to fight down a bright blush threatening his cheeks.

“Th-thanks.”

You smile, clearly pleased.

“Those are my favorite too,” you say, folding a white cloth over the mouth of the basket before pushing it aside — precise movements, not a moment wasted.

Zoro thinks, brashly, that you would’ve been a great swordswoman. Kuina’s always talking about how he’s wasting his movements by swinging wide or cutting too deep.

“Did… did you make them yourself?” he asks, scratching at his cheek, chancing you a single glance. You’re watching him with wide, dark eyes, clear and entrancing. He swallows, his mouth feeling suddenly very, very dry.

“Not all of them,” you look down at your hands, and he sighs with relief. It’s strange, holding your gaze like that — he’d always fancied that you could see more than you let on.

“Just the plain ones — I’m not good enough yet to make the more complicated ones,” you explain, toying with the tips of your fingers. Your nails are short and perfectly filed. There are bits of white stuck under them. Zoro wonders whether it’s sugar or flour or maybe a mix of both.

You look back at him with a crooked grin.

“But just between you and me —” you lean in, your eyes glittering, your voice conspiratorial, “the plain ones are always the best.

— — —

Zoro jerks awake to the sound of laughter, and grumbling, he twists himself out of the hammock, squinting in the morning light. Somehow, he’d slept clear passed dawn, and he curses himself for missing out on his morning katas.

Rounding his door, he follows the sound of voices till he comes into the kitchen, only to find you and Sanji, laughing, standing too close, the air around you a snowfall of powdered sugar. The slanting rays of the rising sun casts the entire scene in a sparkling, ambered glow, as if encasing the moment in honey.

Like this, the pale of sugar falling from your fingers looks like dust-motes caught in the liquid light.

“Zoro! You’re awake!” and there, the laughter in your voice, running undercurrent to the way you say his name. It’s been so long since he’d heard his name said like something more than just a name —

He purses his lips and scowls. An ugly, nameless thing rears its head inside Zoro’s chest.

“Yeah well — couldn’t really sleep last night.”

And he knows it’s unfair to be taking this out on you; he sees it in the flicker of emotions that passes by your face — hurt, confusion, hesitation, regret.

“Zoro —”

“Whatever. Just tell me when breakfast is ready.” He spins around and slinks out of the room, his chest twisting tight as a hangman’s noose, his heart a riot of irregular beats, slamming against his ribs.

“Zoro —!”

He makes it all the way up onto the main deck, his fingers digging into the hilt of his swords, heat pluming up and up and up till he swirls around to pin you with an icy stare.

“What?”

You shrink back, your brows furrowing, and for a second, he almost feels bad, feels like the naive boy he used to be, so desperate to prove himself to Kuina, and to you.

“I — we were just —” you look away, your eyes cutting across the flat deck of the ship towards the trap door that leads to the rooms below.

Zoro lets out a hollow laugh, backing away, his footsteps falling heavy, “No, it’s fine. You don’t have to explain. We don’t owe each other anything.”

Your gaze swings towards him, eyes wide and lips trembling.

Zoro notes with a savage satisfaction that your gaze is kaleidoscoped in unshed tears.

“No! That’s not — I’m —” your breath catches over your words, time and time again and Zoro allows himself a cruel grin, watching you struggle.

“You’re what?” he asks, unable to keep the poison from his voice.

“I’m sorry!”

Zoro nearly snarls as he rounds on you, a few quick steps carrying him into your personal space; you back away, scrambling back till your back thumps against the main mast.

“Sorry?” he repeats, his voice dangerous and low, “yeah… sure. Whatever.” He jerks back, shaking his head.

You narrow your eyes, “Don’t.”

Zoro’s lip curls, “Don’t?”

“Don’t walk away,” you say, swiping a hand across your mouth, licking your lips as you push yourself off the mast to face him.

“Oh, yeah? What else am I supposed to do, huh?” Zoro asks, casting his eyes up towards the endlessly blue sky. He feels anger bursting inside him like summertime sparklers, the fuses short, the explosions bright and unrelenting.

“Just… let me explain —”

“Explain? Explain what? How you nearly killed me twice? How you threatened me with my life? How you let me believe that you were dead for —” he throws his hands up, turning away from you, shaking his head, “for almost two months?”

“I had no choice!” you shout, your fists balled at your sides, “you really think Baroque Works — Crocodile would’ve let me send you a — a message?”

Zoro scoffs, “Well you could’a done something. Anything.”

You deflate, your fists loosening. You lean back against the mast, looking anywhere but at Zoro’s face.

“I didn’t mean to… to make you worry.”

Zoro lets out a hollow laugh.

“I wasn’t worried.”

Even without looking, he feels you wince at his words. He takes three steps towards you, and jerks your face up with two fingers and hisses into your face.

“I was mourning the death of a friend.”

Your breath hitches — he sees it in the way your pupils constrict, in the way your expression falls slack.

“If I — but I couldn’t — you don’t know what they did —”

Zoro very nearly sneers, the gaping wound inside him pulsing red and fire-poker hot as he lets go of your chin.

“You think you’re the only one with a tragic backstory? Look around,” he gestures around the main deck, where the whole crew’s gathered, with various expressions of shock and trepidation scattered across their faces.

Zoro tightens his hold, bearing down over you as he whispers, “You’re not special. Get over yourself.”

He jerks his hand away, turning to stalk back towards the trap door. He hears you cough behind him.

“You’re a real dick, Roronoa, you know that?”

He’s pleased to hear that at least your voice is shaky, even as your words burrow themselves beneath his skin.

He barely glances over his shoulder, “Yeah. Been told a good few times.”

And he strides from the deck, slamming the trap door behind him as he does.

— — —

“Hey.”

Zoro groans, barely peeling open one eye as Luffy edges his way into the small storage room.

“What?” Zoro asks, casting his eyes back at the wood-beamed ceiling.

Luffy crosses his arms, seemingly searching for the right words.

“That wasn’t very cool of you — what you did back there. But — I can kind of get where you’re coming from.”

Zoro chokes back an indignant laugh, “Yeah?”

Luffy nods, spurred on by his apparent acceptance, “Yeah! Like — I get it! You’re just mad that someone you cared so much about let you believe she was dead! But now that she’s not dead… you don’t really know what to do with your feelings!”

Zoro narrows his eyes, uncertain what to do with the surprisingly accurate diagnosis. Luffy is grinning, looking mightily pleased with himself as he plops down on top of a wooden barrel, crossing his legs.

“It’s a bit more than that,” Zoro says, letting his eyes flicker back to the ceiling.

“Yeah? Then tell me!”

Zoro sighs, considering his words.

“I mean, do you even know what it’s like? Thinkin’ you’ve lost one of your —” Zoro nearly chokes on the word, barbed and abrasive in his throat, but he forces it through, “your friends?”

Luffy nods, his smile never faltering, “Sure! You almost died at the Baratie and that really, really sucked for a while!”

Zoro jerks up, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s not — I mean —” he shakes his head, unable to entirely parse through his thoughts.

“It’s not really that different, is it?” Luffy asks.

Zoro groans, scratching at his scalp with his nails. He can’t refute Luffy, but he can’t verbalize why it had been so different for you either. It leaves him feeling gouged out and hollow as he slumps back into his hammock, leaving it swinging with the weight of his body.

“Its okay,” Luffy says, jumping to his feet and padding over to give Zoro a solid smack on the arm, “if you just say your sorry, I’m sure she’ll forgive you!”

Zoro nearly snarls as he scrambles up, but Luffy’s already bouncing out of the room, humming to himself.

“Oh! She’s in the kitchen — it’s weird, but I think she likes to make sweets when she’s stressed. Kinda nice though — it’s like we’ll never be short of desserts on the ship again!”

“Right,” Zoro says, leaning back into his hammock, scowling at the ceiling.

Luffy pauses by the door, “She’s not a bad person.”

Zoro sighs, hesitating perhaps a beat longer than he should have.

“Sure. If you say so.”

— — —

He dreams of you. He dreams of the later summer day when the air was so tepid that practice had ended early in lieu of letting all the students laze by the small koi pond in the backyard of the doujou complex.

You’d come over that morning with your usual sweets, and had stayed for lunch with the rest of the children.

Kuina had tried to teach you some basic forms with a wooden sword, but even from afar, Zoro could tell that you’re woefully inept at handling anything as long and unwieldy as a katana.

“If you practice, you’ll get better,” Kuina offers, leading you to the koi pond, where you’d peered curiously into the crystal clear water and gasped with pleasure at the white and black spotted fish that flickered beneath, their scales shimmering in the late summer sun.

“Betcha you couldn’t do a hundred swings,” Zoro says, thumbing at his nose, rolling up his sleeves. Next to you, Kuina rolls her eyes, but you stare at him for a long second before smiling.

“Sure! I can do a hundred.” You leap to your feet, and Kuina hands you one of the light wooden training swords.

Zoro takes great pains to pull out one of his real katanas, metal and cloth and all, dropping into a perfect sparring stance.

“One! Two!” he counts, swinging the sword down in a controlled motion, his heels digging in, his toes keeping him balanced.

You follow his movements, though after a good thirty of them, you gasp, the wooden sword clattering to the ground. Zoro turns, only to see you cradling one of your hands. He rushes forward, not caring that his own sword clanks down into the soft grass as well.

“It’s a splinter,” you say, forlorn as you hold up your forefinger to the light, a minuscule shard of wood protruding from the soft pad beneath your nail.

Zoro sighs, reaching out to grab your hand in his. He can’t help noticing the softness of your skin against his own callused palms, how small your hands feel in his.

“Hold still,” he says, peering at the splinter with a frown dug between his brows.

“I-it’s fine! My mom will take it out once I get home — and we’ve still got seventy more swings —”

Zoro tuts, shooting you a dark look, “If we don’t take care of it, it might get fester and get worse.”

You go quiet, your arm going slack as you let Zoro twist your hand this way and that. After a few more moments of silent assessment, Zoro leans in to press his thumb to the base of the splinter. You squeak in protest, jerking your arm back on instinct, but he’s stronger than you, even then, and he holds you still.

“Quit squirming! I’m gonna squeeze it out.”

You clamp down on your lips, eyes wide and watery as you force yourself still, and Zoro goes back to the gruesome work of forcing the splinter out bit by bit.

When finally, the needle of wood falls away from your hand, there’s bead of blood welling up into the wound. You press the finger into your mouth.

“Thanks,” you say, grinning at Zoro.

It’s only then that Zoro processes the blaze of heat that rushes into his cheeks. He looks away, clearing his throat.

“I’ve always hated those old practice swords — the handles aren’t wrapped well enough. Here —” he reaches down and hands you one of his real swords (the best and most well-balanced one), the hilt wrapped with fine black cloth, in a traditional diamond hatch.

Your wrists tip forward as he hands you the sword, but a second later, you hold it upright, marveling at it’s balance.

“Whoa… it’s so… beautiful.”

Zoro crinkles his nose, stepping back to pick up another one of his swords, dropping into a sparring stance again. He makes a concerted effort not to look in Shimotsuki-sensei’s direction, even though he can feel the man’s eyes tracking him, know the exact shape and luster of the man’s soft, knowing smile.

“C’mon, seventy more swings to go,” he gruffs, glancing back at you.

You nod eagerly, trying to mirror his stance. But your legs are too far apart, your knees not bent enough. And it’s plain as day the katana is a bit too long for your body. Still, Zoro smiles to himself as he begins to count again —

“Thirty-four, thirty-five —”

— — —

It’s a week before either of you speak to each other again. Though even Zoro has to be hard-pressed to not notice the delicate little sweets that now seem to accompany the ends of all their meals.

And he can hear your laughter, hard as he tries not to, the sound trickling into him like spring water — clear and sweet. He can see you frequently chatting with Nami, that familiar rosy glow to your cheeks, or hear you joking with Sanji, the pair of you staking opposite ends of the kitchen — you to make dessert, him to make whatever the hell he’s decided to make that day.

As for Zoro, he finds himself circling the periphery of these cheery moments, sticking to the shadows, somber as a vulture, watching you with dark eyes and a nameless weight bearing down on his chest. He knows he’s being unreasonable, that none of this is objectively your fault.

But as he’s heard Sanji say to Luffy more than once — feelings aren’t objective things. You kinda just have to let them be.

It’s a warm, sun-baked afternoon when he pushes into the kitchen and finds you there, by yourself for once, an apron tied around your waist, a bowl of fat, juicy strawberries sitting on the counter before you, the area around the counter dusted in a fine layer of flour and sugar.

“Ow — shit —” you drop the tiny parring knife you’d been holding, bringing your hand up to your eyes.

The late afternoon light cuts slantwise across the entire kitchen, illuminating the shape of you in a solid chunk of shadow, like a piece of cut cloth in the dappled, golden light, inked against the freshly waxed floors (courtesy of Usopp, at Sanji’s snack-based behest).

“What happened?” Zoro rushes forward before he can stop himself.

“N-nothing,” you say, making as if to jerk back, but Zoro catches your hand and forces it forward into the light. He can see the small snick the knife had made on your palm.

Scowling, he looks up at you, a silent question in his eyes.

“I was — I was peeling the strawberries.”

He’s caught momentarily off-guard by the strangeness of your answer.

“Peeling strawberries?”

You blush, the color saturating your skin like the berry juice staining your fingertips.

“Yeah! Cause… the strawberry skins have those little seeds in them, and that creates a strange texture if it’s mixed into the filling so —”

Zoro scoffs, reaching into a drawer to pull out a bandage and a small roll of gauze.

“Hold still,” he says, leaning down to wipe the cut lean.

You sigh, your voice falling flat as you say, only half-jokingly, “Don’t worry — it’s nothing. It won’t kill me.”

Zoro levels you with a sharp glare and you freeze mid-breath, clamping down over your lips as you drop your head to hide your eyes behind your soft bank of bangs. Zoro resumes his work, his heart thundering an irregular beat at the back of his throat.

He finishes bandaging you in silence, and then, he drops your hand and turns to leave.

“Wait —”

He stops, barely sparing you a look over his shoulder.

“I —” you teeter on the balls of your feet; he can feel you weighing your words, searching for the right ones to say. Finally, you settle on, “I’m making sakura-mochi next. Do you… do you want to try some?”

Zoro huffs, turning back around with slightly narrowed eyes. He regards you for a long moment before making his way to the sofa and dropping into it, folding his arms. You let out a visible breath, the tension draining from your shoulders as you make to pick up the parring knife again.

“Here, I got it.” Zoro is by your side in an instant, plucking the small knife from your grasp and tugging the bowl of fruit towards him.

“But —”

“I might not be a waiter, but I can handle my knives,” he says, squaring his shoulders as he starts the methodical work of skinning each strawberry.

The silence coagulates around the pair of you like melted butter, growing colder by the minute. You carefully measure out half a cup of warm water and pour it into the pristine white rice flour, kneading the forming dough as you go.

Zoro plunks one strawberry after another into a separate bowl, dropping the thin strips of pebbled skin into the trash.

After another few moments, you pause. So does he.

“That other day —”

“I should’ve told you —”

You both talk at the same time, both freezing after a single, starling heartbeat.

Zoro sighs, shrugging up a shoulder.

“You first.”

You resume your gentle kneading of the lumpy dough.

“No, it’s just… I… I get it. I know why your mad at me. But… it’s not that simple,” you say, your voice imploring.

Zoro’s shoulders stiffen, “Seemed pretty simple to me.”

“What did you expect me to do? Bare my soul to you the first time we’d met after almost a decade? After you’d been hunting me for weeks — for a bounty?”

Zoro drops his hands, one still poised on the knife’s handle, the other cradling a half-skinned strawberry.

“I wouldn’tve — you know I wouldn’t —” he nearly whips the knife across the room in frustration, but thinks better of it at the last second. It drops from his hand with a dull clatter as he reaches out to wipe his hands on a discarded towel.

“I… I hoped…” your voice fractures along the word and Zoro places the strawberry into its bowl.

“I hoped you might’ve… recognized —“ you try again, but Zoro shakes his head.

“A good hunter always keeps his distance,” he recites, words dull. You nod, pursing your lips. It was something sensei had taught him — don’t strike until you absolutely have to. And when you do, make it quick.

Slowly, you start to knead the dough again, pressing the heel of your hand into the center. Zoro watches the soft white of it bulge beneath your fingers, the rough lumps smoothing out until the entire thing is round and soft and perfect.

Zoro folds his arms, leaning a hip against the counter.

“Why didn’t you tell me? The first time?” he asks, the accusation now gone from his voice, replaced by something much, much worse — uncertainty.

“I couldn’t — not without Baroque Works tracking me and —” you bite off the last bit of your sentence, looking away.

“And what?” Zoro asks, his voice gentle.

“It’s nothing. You’re right — I should’ve —”

“No,” Zoro says, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to him, “tell me what they did to you. I — I want to know.”

You lick your lips, your eyes watery, fractaled by the dying light, “But… maybe I don’t want you to know. I don’t want — want to you think of me like — like that.”

Zoro lets out a mirthless puff of laughter, “Bit too late for that.”

Your eyes snap back to his, wide and searching.

He shrugs, grip loosening ever so slightly on your wrists.

“I —” he has to fight through the tightness in his throat, the dryness papering the back of his tongue, “I thought of you all the time,” he admits, licking his lips, “most nights, I’d have these dreams of when we were both —” he breaks off again, his mind mired in the haze of half-forgotten memories.

“When we were both kids?” you offer gently.

Zoro nods.

“So please… tell me what happened.”

You stare at him as he stares at you. He sighs, the edge of his lips twitching up ever so slightly.

“And… you promised.”

A tiny laugh punches out of you, startled and resigned all at once. You nod.

“Yeah… guess I did.”

The last dregs of sunset bleeds the room empty, and the pair of you are suddenly thrown into a pitched, primal dark. In it, your eyes shown, black and glassy.

“My parents were always living on borrowed time,” you say, trailing a finger through the fine dust of rice flour on the counter, “they…” you break off in a puff of laughter, the sound so course it doesn’t even register as a laugh.

“They couldn’t have a child, so they… got creative. They were young and in love, and desperate to start a family.”

Zoro frowns, trying to piece the disparate pieces of the story together.

“Do you know where Devil Fruits come from?” you ask, dusting your hands off before wiping them on your apron and reaching for a piece of wax paper to wrap your freshly made rice dough. Zoro watches you move through the seemingly mundane tasks, his mind spinning.

“Uh — not really. Never really thought about it.”

You nod, pressing the wax paper in around the edges of the dough, folding it in neat, origami lines until the whole thing is wrapped.

“Legends say that Devil Fruits are enchanted by Sea Devils — manifesting when humans want something enough to wish it into existence. Most of the time, the trade-off is simple — the Devil Fruit eater gains some kind of power, but gives up their ability to survive in seawater,” a wry smile plays at your lips.

“Have you ever thought of the average life expectancy for a Devil Fruit eater?”

Zoro shakes his head, frown carving deeper and deeper between his brows.

“Well, I can tell you — it’s not as long as you might think. Most of them end up dying young…”

From beyond the windows, a pale, silvery moon peaks out from the far horizon, casting the room in a cold, alien glow. You wrap your arms around yourself, as if defending against an unseen chill, and Zoro feels the familiar pull behind his navel, to reach out for you and pull you close.

“My parents wished, but when they got their wish, it wasn’t a god that had answered them — it was —“

“A Sea Devil.”

There’s no question in Zoro’s tone, no room for shock or wonder or bewilderment. He’d watched you die; and yet here you are in front of him, traced silver by the moonlight.

You nod, reaching up to drag your fingers through your hair, and Zoro watches, breathless, at the inky spill of it over your shoulder, shielding your face from the burgeoning light.

“What did they trade?” Zoro asks, though a part of him thinks he already knows.

“Their lives,” you answer simply.

Zoro narrows his eyes, “Still doesn’t explain how you ended up —“ he motions at the stagnant air between them. Above decks, he can hear the sound of a fire being built, the clatter of footsteps and the warm trickle of laughter.

You shrug, “The cardinal rule of wish-making, as any good fairy-tale will tell you,” you spin a finger around in the air before pointing it at Zoro, “is… specificity.”

Zoro grunts, casting his eyes down at the bowl of half-skinned strawberries.

“Careful what you wish for…” he says.

You raise your thumb, your forefinger still pointed at him, now in a finger-gun shape, before pulling an invisible trigger. Zoro feels a shiver shake him all the way down to his bones.

“Apparently, when they said ‘we’ll give you our lives’, they didn’t know they’d wished away my life too.”

Zoro swallows, “So… what? They made another deal?”

“Yep,” you sound entirely too bright, reaching behind yourself now to untie the apron, “they made another deal.”

“And what did they trade away this time?”

You slip the apron from around your middle, reaching out to hang it on a hook by the far wall. When you turn around, it’s to find Zoro still watching you, the curves of his face washed colorless by the moon.

You offer him a small, heartbreaking smile.

“The only thing they had left to trade — my death.”

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[imsogayhelpme]

"Eyebrows seemingly drawn by a single, uninterrupted stroke of a famed artists' brush; a nose and a chin shaped in perfect angles that defied attempts to measure them through mere device of men; a pair of deep eyes seemingly carved out of a beautiful jewel containing all the misfortunes found in this world"

[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR BELOVED EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED BASTARD!!! WE LOVE HIM <3

[sttoru]

can older bf!satoru hug me please, hug me so tight i can only feel him all around me, hugging me so tight that the only thing i can hear are his heartbeat and soft breath 🥺

i want him to kiss me softly, kiss all of my face from my forehead to my eyelids down to my nose then my cheek and lastly my lips 🥺

step aside toji and kuna, your number 1 fans want some softness, learn to love me right 😤 (i lie i still love my emotionally constipated men)

- 🗑

AMEN TO EVERYTHING UVE SAIDDDDD 🙏🏽🙏🏽 older bf satoru if u can hear us, please save us pleaseee we beggggggggg

he’d be so soft and gentle im gonna cryyyyyyy <3 the little kisses all over your face yesss thats def something he would do late at night t_t

[papakhan]

Character Ask Game: 2, 6, 10, and 29 for Boone. Go on, be a hater. Unleash it. 👀

oh my god i think i reblogged that meme back in January and only just saw these I'm Soooo sorry :'( I will do them now as well while I'm here. Also thank you so much for enabling me to be a little hater <3

Character Asks

2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you’ve sent me a character I don’t like)

I mixture of 2 things made me into a true Boone hater. No.1 is When I first played New Vegas I thought the Khans were kinda wack, not really evil but I didn't really like them either. Then I got the line from Jack about Papa being "a softie at heart" and it immediately made me rethink them. And me being more sympathetic towards them made me question the rest of their treatment at the hands of other characters in the game, one of whom being Boone. No.2 was seeing how wack his fans were about defending his actions and how much they will make shit up about him to justify his actions. Like idk I saw fem!courier number 8784589 loving stroking Boone's arm and tearfully say "its soo sad you were forced to kill those raider children but don't worry I forgive you" and I just snapped ig

6. My least favorite ship of them

I hate Manny/Boone with a firey passion for real there is a special place in my heart dedicated to hating that ship. I just hate everything about it, Manny's conflict with Carla is interesting enough just stemming him being from a poor family in North Vegas and her being from a more well-off family from the Strip, you don't need to add romance to it to make it more ~spicy~. At no point does he even allude towards being in love with Boone, he's just pissed off because he hates his besties wife. I hated my bestie's boyfriend and it wasn't because I was in love with her it was because her boyfriend was a prick. And I feel like there's a lot of people really into it who don't really seem to notice the connotations they're cooking up. Like seriously can we not have the canonically gay brown/latino man be the spiteful jealous ex-lover who is trying to steal the poor innocent white soldierboy away from his loving wife guys cmon do these people not know how bad this makes them look. I'm gripping these people by the shoulders and shaking them very hard. Anyway I hate it so much let my OC fuck Manny instead <3

10. Describe the character in one sentence

A boot-licking war criminal who learnt nothing and who gets too much credit.

29. How do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren’t?)

Awful. Not only is he emotionally constipated but he's also former military, basically a marine, so I think he'd just order his kids around and be like :/ when they don't do what he says. And that's me being nice about it, I've had plenty of ex military men scream in my face as a child for crying, I don't think he'd be that bad but he wouldn't be good. Maybe it's hot take but I don't think it is considering he shot his own wife and also countless Khan children so I don't think it's too much of a stretch to think he doesn't take any special considerations when handling kids. He'd expect them to function as NCR recruits or would just ignore them <3

[itoshi-s]

Don't worry I feel the same way about mochi ice cream D: the texture is great!! But the flavor....ehhhh. Also, Rin needs a psychologist gf lmao he and so many other boys (like Reo and Nagi) could benefit from having a partner with the analytical thought process and emotional maturity to call them out on shit and give them advice 😂😂😂

Out of curiosity btw, have you ever thought about what lipstick color/or chapstick flavors the bllk boys would like?? Reo supposedly like older, classy women so he seems like a vintage red lip guy with maybe a minty chapstick. Nagi, Isagi, and Rin seem like pink boys for sure but different shades. Bachira is a fruity flavor and likes the wholeeee color palette

aaaAaA pls the psych girlfriends …… yes absolutely </3 rin would HATE the thought of it, but eventually learn that it actually has its perks. nagi wouldn’t realize that it’s helpful 2 hear someone’s pov and actually give him some good insight on what’s going on w his thoughts. reo actively asks u for advice & wants to hear your opinion!!!! it’s not like he’s going 2 make use of it immediately tho lol he’s so baby :( but yes definitely agree. this is extremely self-indulgent but yes all of these stressed out emotionally constipated men need a psychologist s/o. end of story i am actually assigning them one as we speak :,3

as for the lipsticks !!! this idea is so cute omg ^_^ for starters reo is definitely into red, cool toned and rich!! matte or lacquered, it doesn’t really matter, he just loves the color in overall. it’s very classy && he’s absolutely into that. also may i add,, lipsticks stains…..oh he goes cRAZY. as for chapstick flavors yes! def something minty, nothing too weird, he likes the way it feels cool when he gives u kisses!

bachira is so fun omg he truly does like all the colors on u,, it’s so hard 4 him to pick a favorite he just loves them all :( watches you apply it in the mornings &&he’s so giddy ‘cause you can pull off anything and he likes how fun it looks. fruity chapsticks are a must, even better if u have a few different flavors and he makes it a little game to guess which one is it that you’re wearing today >_<

yes !! rin, isagi, & nagi all love pinkish shades. there's something so cute about it! i'd say rin is into nude-ish colors, the kinda pink that looks like your lip color but better, and loves if you wear a darker lip liner w/ it <33 it makes your pout pop nd he just cannot stop thinking about it!!!! chapstick flavor - anything sweet :( the sweeter the better. coconut, vanilla, or some other fancy stuff, he loves to lick his lip and taste the remaining traces!

isagi is more into lip gloss i feel like !! he doesn't discriminate between shades, but pink just does it for him. it makes your complexion all dewy and fresh and he likes how sweet it makes u look :< also adores the way ur lipgloss leaves stains on his cheeks and stains his lips a soft pink as well whenever u smooch him. somethin about yoichi strikes me as a simple,, lovely lovely guy and so i think his fav chapstick is just plain strawberry!!!! mmhm

last but not least, nagi likes u in a little toned down pinks. liquid matte, preferably,, so that it's not a pain later when u kiss him and leave marks :x BUT i'd say he also has a think for darker lip colors, i'm thinking a nice deep chocolate brown or perhaps a brown-ish gloss, i'm thinking of that one fenty heat shade..... it catches his attention, makes your lips so vibrant and accentuated, he cannot resist it!!!!! loves ur cola flavored chapsticks

[tillytherandomfanficwriter]

I have totally not been meaning to post this for like, two months now, shhhhhh.

Anyways, I got a bingo on @feedthefandomfest's original bingo card! Been fun forcing myself to step out of my comfort zone, even if it's also been absolutely nerve-wracking. And it's even gotten me to be more confident in commenting on fics outside of the bingo! Once I get this one completed, definitely eyeing up the Old Fic bingo card (purely because I do not have the ability to keep track of two bingo cards at the same time, lmao).

Taking a page out of some other's books and making a little rec list of the fics I've commented on below the cut! Note that it won't be all of them cause 1) my memory is horrible, lol and 2) I wasn't keeping this list when I first started XD. Oh well, at least some fics will get some love!

"Towards the Rising Sun" by Potassium_Hypobromite A Shen/Zed fic set in post-WW2 Japan! Lots of angst, some lovely moments of Zed being Dad!Zed to Kayn, some interesting historical details and very little sugar coating of very real atrocities that happened during and after WW2, all set to the tune of two emotionally constipated men(/affectionate) trying to figure out their feelings for each other. Binge-read it in like, an hour and a half, 2 hours one afternoon and loved every moment of it.

Heads up, when I say 'very little sugar coating', I mean it. Japan did some seriously fucked up shit during WW2, and seriously fucked up shit was done to innocents, and this fic does address that (in a way that makes sense for the characters), so be warned if you decide to read it.

"algernon" by parsnipit A wonderful W.D Gaster fic in which said Daster Gaster accidentally creates a skeleton werewolf child (Sans), panics, starts figuring it out and getting a hang of the whole parenthood thing, then another very special boy (Papyrus) gets yeeted into the family kinda against Gaster's will but he isn't complaining. Also features some Grillster (these two take so damn long to get together and I blame Gaster for it, lmao). And really quick- omfg the motherfucking goddamn foreshadowing and setting up in this fic?? Just, like, AH! I won't spoil anything but like, hnnnagghaaa it's too goooooood.

Heed the tags! And the additional warnings in the author's notes! As good as this fic is, it does get quite heavy! Take care of yourselves people!

(A double here, since both were done by the same author. Have I talked about this series before on this blog? Yes. Do I care that I'm talking about it again? No. No, not at all.) "Spirit of a Guardian" and "Heart of a Dragon" by SilverlySilence (Both part of the "Heart of a Dragon's Soul" series by the same author) This. Series. This. Goddamn. Series When I say it 100%, completely and utterly, totally and without mercy RUINED ME, I am making a massive understatement. I was fucking DESTORYED when I finished reading this series (specifically Heart of a Dragon). When I say this is better than most published novels I have read, I AM NOT KIDDING. And it was done for free?? And it was all free?? *Screams* Basic summary, Jack gets yeeted into the past and ends up falling head over heels in love with Hiccup (same for Hiccup with Jack), but that's only like, 10% of it all cause so much of it is yummy, delicious, absolutely amazing foreshadowing, world-building, character friendship developing and so much more. My brain ceases to function when I read this series - you will laugh, you will cry, you will gasp, you will screech (I did this last one multiple times while reading it), just- read it. It's also more a action/adventure story with a romance side plot, especially in the first fic, so if that's more your style, give it a try! The last fic hasn't been updated in like 3 years? Maybe 4? But that's a-okay, life happens and it's all done for free so we shouldn't demand anything, and what we do have is good, delicious, nourishing food. (Side note, but Jack and Hiccup are just the epitome of a healthy couple in this?? Like, they're so understanding and respectful and caring of one another and also the trust they have in one another is so damn high and just- I am so normal about this series you have no idea)

"The Book of Rhaast" by KaynInfectedBrayn (CGotAnAccount) A very good fic about old god Rhaast meeting Kayn in a very not good situation. Very, very good.

There's a pretty intense amount of graphic violence, so be warned.

"Maces and Talons" by HijackSecrets and Kae_Viche Jumanji HiJack. That's- that's the best way to describe this fic, lol. Because that's what it was based on. It definitely deviates from the movie in a few ways but I'm happy with that. Loooove the subtle world-building in this, and it features some very good art!

"Claws and Calls" by HermesSerpent A very good Feral Hiccup AU, featuring overprotective brothers Viggo and Ryker! Honestly made me want more brotherly Hiccup, Viggo and Ryker fics, lol. Very good!

And that's all (That I can remember and find at least, lol)! When I get another bingo, I'll post again with an actually accurate list, lol. If I remember any more of the original fics I commented on, I'll also post them with the update!

[nostalgicatsea]

5-fic self-rec!

Thanks for tagging me for this, @oluka (and the last line thing too except I had to pass on that one because I haven't written anything in a while other than the last excerpt I posted on here 😅).

Except for "Apricity," which is near and dear to my heart despite how much I itch to edit it (a constant issue I have with things I write), I went with some of my favorites that have flown under the radar.

Hm...this ended up more of a "hey, good job, me" post than a "I'm trying to find what's compelling about these fics to rec them" post. Oh well.

In order of publication:

Apricity (616 Steve/Tony, T, 1.5k)

My first fic on AO3! My first Steve/Tony fic! And somehow it was 616 instead of MCU. I love dark Steve, but I'm particular with how exactly he's unhinged and this is how I like him. Even-keeled despite being off his rocker. Rational in his own head. Soured on the world, but in a way that pushes who he is to the extremes so his core is still visible even if it's mottled with rot. And, of course, obsessed with Tony. I also like the tempo of this; I used to have a good grasp on tempo, but I feel like I've lost that a bit over the years.

Unraveled (Warrior (2011) gen fic, G, 1k)

Since it's a movie that doesn't have a lot of fanworks for it and it's a gen fic to boot, barely anyone has read this, but I don't care because it was written for a friend, @luxover. I love writing little stories to gift friends. If you haven't watched Warrior, watch it! Brutal tearjerker about a broken family and broken men and one of the few good sports movies out there. No, you don't need to know anything about MMA to enjoy it. I don't.

Okay, I should talk about this ficlet. I'm fond of this one because it's so different from my usual writing. It's stream-of-consciousness and entirely voice-driven like someone sat you down in Brendan's head and he's talking and talking even if he naturally isn't saying of this out loud. Because he and his brother Tommy are emotionally constipated; even if they love each other a lot, they don't know how to reach out to each other. They don't know if they're wanted. This also has one of my favorite last lines I've ever written. GUT PUNCH, if I do say so myself. ONE-TWO HIT, K.O. Sums up every layer of their relationship.

Hidden Declaration (Brad/Ray (Generation Kill), T, 728 words)

Another gift for a friend (the same friend)! Brad/Ray and MCU Steve/Tony share some similarities despite being drastically different, so is it any surprise I liked these two unhinged idiots? I never open for fic prompts, but this was when I was on a roll and then I got scared because lux asked for this. I never wrote for Gen Kill, I read maybe 3 GK fics in my life, and Ray is one of those characters who are impossible to write well imo (to be honest, I also feel the same way about Brad though the difficulty is subtler). He's an unusual guy with a very particular way of speaking.

And somehow this flowed out of me quickly. It's not without its flaws, but it was so different from what I usually write and how I do that it was really fun to write this! Very dialogue-heavy too which isn't what I'm known for. And the crassest (also...some language that's not okay as a warning, but if you know GK, it comes with the territory) and most sexual (it's still not very sexual lol) out of my fics. I think I captured how much they're best friends and they're so comfortable in each other's presence well. Plus I put a little wink for my friend at the end and it's one of the few times I like being indulgent with my writing. Also, tattoo fics are a trope and I guess this counts as my one tattoo fic though it's not an AU and there's no actual tattooing involved.

A Long, Final Rest Among the Stars (MCU Tony-centric/Nebula & Tony gen fic, G, 2.7k)

My tribute to best boy Tony, my first and ultimate love (along with Steve, of course) along with an expansion of the lovely bits of Nebula and Tony's tender friendship that we got to see in IW which I adored. They share a lot in common.

Writing this made me so sad because I felt like I was preparing to say goodbye to Tony. It made me reminisce about how it all started, and everything came full circle. His past is his present. Tony's trapped on a dark spaceship injured and far, far away from home. Tony's trapped in a dark cave injured and far, far away from home. There's a kind spirit with him, and even if they try to keep him alive, he's a dead man walking. But he's also come a long way from the man he used to be. I'M REALLY PROUD OF HIM, OKAY? I LOVE HIM.

The Burning of Flowers (616 Steve/Tony, G, 1.2k)

I secretly really, really wish more people read this fic. I wanted to write a Hanahaki AU for a while, but I couldn't figure out what I'd do that would feel fresh and then I came up with this subversion of sorts. Hanahaki AUs usually involve someone pining for their love and refusing to let go of it because it means so much to them. I thought I'd write about someone who doesn't have it—and simultaneously wants and doesn't want it—and wishes ill on the person he loves by hoping their love has it. And what better era to situate it than Hickmanvengers? You don't need to know Hickmanvengers to enjoy it, though.

I'm extremely proud of this one because it's one of the best fics I've written if I'm allowed to toot my own horn for a sec! Please let me because it's so rare for me to feel like I don't want to rip apart chunks of my fics and sew them back whole again, new and improved. I think this is one of my most complete fics in that way; I can probably tweak it, but I'm satisfied with nearly all of it if not all of it.

Anyway, I was in a slump and then suddenly the old magic returned and I slipped back into the writing style I used to have back in the mid-2010s except better. I could actually see that I've developed as a writer even if I'm still learning. But the atmosphere, the sensory lines, and the rhythm returned. I like the pace of this a lot and feel like it follows Steve's relentless rage, much like the unmoored, slower pace of "Apricity" reminds me of a colder Steve who never fully woke up from the ice.

Tagging @kiyaar, @meidui, @sineala, @whenas-in-silks, @sabrecmc, @magicasen, and two artists (rec your art!<3): @kappamairi & @massivespacewren

[always-andromeda]

this is so exciting !! could i possibly request molasses chip with percy dolarhyde :0

– 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐬

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: okay, we are starting off strong with one of the most emotionally constipated men we all know and love, fantastic choice, anon. <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: bits of angst, 90% fluff, nothing else I can think of!

The word love rarely makes its way past Percy's lips. Hell, he's not even a romantic; not in the traditional sense at least. His version of that is offering you a continuous stream of alcohol or eyeing up your figure when he thinks you aren't looking.

He'll call you darlin' and sweet pea and the occasional sweetheart, but even then his tone would be dripping with ridicule. Pure, genuine affection? That's for sissies. Percival Dolarhyde is a cowboy, thank you very much.

But he isn't immune. Oh lord above, he is weak when it comes to the smallest things. Furrow your brow, raise your voice, give him a single stern look...as long as you're giving him attention. Because he craves it like a baby cries out for milk.

That's how he'd fall in the first place; fast and hard with a deafening smack on the pavement of love. But still, he'd fall reluctantly. Always putting on that bravado. Always trying to speak over you even when his voice shakes. Always trying to be clever even when it's obvious that you have him beat. Anything to convince himself that he's not going soft.

The first time he says it, he doesn't even intend for it to happen.

You'd probably be arguing with him; because, goodness gracious, Percy is fantastic at turning anything into a problem, especially with how terrible he has it for you.

You'd scream at him, "Why do you have to make such a fuss over nothin' anyways, Dolarhyde? Is that what bored little rich boys like you long to do? Be an insufferable little weasel to any–"

That assumption would make him so frustrated that he'd yell back, "It's because I love you!"

And there's the truth. The nugget of honesty that lies in the shriveled and ragged remains of Percival Dolarhyde's heart. It's tiny and pathetic and quivering, but it's true. It's all he has.

And for a second, you'd think it's almost tragic knowing fully that the only way he knows how to act upon his feelings is by taking and taking every little crumb he possibly can. So sad that someone else might laugh in his face just to humble the spoiled brat of a man.

It's what Percy expects. He'd never been one to extend kindness himself. Even in the best of times, an impulsive declaration of love changes things drastically. What kind of a scoundrel would he be to expect anything else, especially from someone he'd been so dreadful to?

But you take one look at his dusty face and catch the gloss of vulnerability in his jade eyes as they dart to the ground nervously. And somehow, that's enough for you to excuse him.

You sadly and slowly grab his hand, feeling his fingers shake when they interlace with yours. Bringing his knuckle to your lips, you kiss the dusty flesh and say softly, "We can figure that fuss out next."

[zayne-snowman]

Zayne, stop me before I kill someone.

Some failed experiment had the audacity to say that you are not good looking LIKE?!!

DOES HE NEED EYE TRANSPLANT?!

Or perhaps he need to be put into a mental asylum LIKE

IF I HAD YOUR FACE THE FIRST THING I WOULD DO IN THE MORNING WAS LOOK AT MY FACE AND BE LIKE "damnn I'm handsome af"

But that emotionally constipated bacteria had the audacity to shit about you🙏

LIKE BACTERIA WE CAN SEE YOU ARE REFLECTING YOUR EMOTIONS ON MY HANDSOME, TALENTED, KIND ZAYNE 😡

Zayne, you are so cute, angelic, sweet, kind, and caring. Ilyyyy okay 🫀.

Ik you told me not to let the words of other get to me buttttt they can talk shit about me for all they want but they can't speak against you. Like you are already such an angel and you already suffering through alot and some germ with an underlying jealousy talks about you.

SHOULD I THROW BOMB AT HIS HOUSE OR BETTER PUT POISON IN HIS FOOD OR MAYBE PUTTING A SNAKE IN HIS TOILET.

Don't worry my baby I'll always protect you. You are my big beefy men and I'll show you so much love my pookie wookie sugarplum<3 - 🌷

Being angry like this will only cause you a headache. Breathe, it's okay.

I don't care what other people say about me, the only opinion that matters to me is yours.

People talk, we can't let ourselves be bothered by every negative conversation. We should focus on the positive ones. Ignore them.

I love you too. Don't go harming people out of trivial matters.

[eumenidaes]

10 Characters from 10 Fandoms

I was tagged for this by @gxldandpurple

How to play: name 10 of your favourite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people to do the same

Putting them under the cut! Some of them are me stretching a little bit in terms of fav status but here we go

1) Bruce Wayne (Batman) - DC

My beloved husband. I love an emotionally constipated dilf, and especially one with a strong sense of justice. The most handsome man to ever do it

2) Cindy Moon (Silk) - Marvel

I tend to like the Spider-people the most. Also I related a lot to part of her most recent run talking a little about some feelings of disconnect from Korean heritage

3) James Ironwood - RWBY

Once again. I love emotionally constipated dilfs. Also he’s so interesting and tragic of a character, and I adore him so much

4) Annie January (Starlight) - The Boys (show. never the comic)

First off she’s pretty. Second off, I think her arcs in the show have been so good, and she’s really compelling

5) Jayce Talis - Arcane

I may have a type in terms of men and that’s muscular and tall with a square jaw and dark hair. Also I think he’s sweet

6) Evelyn Wang - Everything Everywhere All At Once

I love complexity so much and mothers realizing how they have made mistakes, making efforts to change things

7) Paul Matthews - The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals

The most just a guy character ever. But he’s my guy. I enjoy it when he gets doomed by the narrative

8) Aglaya Lilich - Pathologic

Yet another lovely doomed by the narrative character. Her Patho2 theater performance about how the only crime is betrayal lives in my head rent free. Also the inquisitors are just so interesting

9) Booker DeWitt - Bioshock

Maybe I just like war criminals. What then

10) Akane Kurashiki - Zero Escape

Hello Schrodinger’s girlfriend. Tell me more about the mummy that was on the Titanic and Ice-9

I’m also awful at tagging people so I’m just gonna go with @nebulas-bebulas @transmascnaoto @hey-whatchamacallit and anyone else who wants to do this!

[vacantgodling]

Hi there buddy! Athena here, how are you, how's the writing going and which of your ocs is your favourite from what you're currently working on, and why?

heyyyyy 💛 i hope you’re doing well!! i’ve been loving see your crocheting journey for the past few weeks lol i’m still wishing you luck in finally making a square 😭

i’m doing pretty good!! writing is just vibing but that’s lifeee. i did write a piece yesterday, new opening for the graves we dug here and i’m v happy with it despite some grammar mistakes that i’m too lazy to fix lolol

currently & as usual i’m juggling a lot of projects haha. aside from the usual suspects, tgwd has been taking a good bit of space in my brain. so my oc that’s my fave from it is technically graves. i say technically bc similarly to amon & hya in paramour, i consider graves and dove to be a unit — can’t really have one without the other. however something you can notice throughout a lot of my wips is that my favorite characters are usually the pov character 9x out of 10 lol. so!! graves is the pov, the technical favorite lol.

why?? i mean i’m super simple (1) i like writing angsty old men with problems pff. my favorite genre tbh (2) he has an interesting pov that merits more to the story than being told a lot. if i told the story from dove’s perspective, it’s not that it wouldn’t be interesting, it’s that you’d probably know a lot of the things that graves has kept hidden until now. (3) i like characters who are emotionally constipated bc i really enjoy writing emotional turmoil LMAO and they’re ripe with it and they also advance the plot by being obtuse p much lmao. (4) it’s cathartic in a way? to write characters like hya or graves lol. it’s hard to explain but a lot of it for me is gender tbh but i don’t wanna rant too much about that cuz it’s hard to explain 😭

but thanks so much for asking! who’s your favorite character in not you i’m really curious 👀

[the-travelling-witch]

"here lies snowflake anon, killed by holly the witch after said witch brought to life an emotionally constipated japanese dragon with ties to the crime world. after that, a certain former harbinger went berserk." for the tomb, thx ♡

I DIDN'T REALISE I SENT THAT MANY ASKS DIAKSOMAODHW I FEEL BAD >0< i will keep this short then hshshshsh

1) yeah i know i might create a monster with that many kisses + gotta be ready after the hickies but hey that's what i'm here for for the indigo haired menace

2) if said menace wants affection he should just ask, i won't gatekeep hshshsh

3) since you have a hard time believing you entering your men's life was a blessing for them then ig we all shall make you a daily reminder for that cuz our beloved witch deserves any kind of love that exists in the world ^u^

also wanna leave you with an artist i found on tiktok that draws mostly about xiao and i think it's the sweetest (you will see why) ++ they share some tropes/hcs that are the same as mine for our beloved yaksha: pipiwuwu (ndr: had to search the name and almost lost my shit from laughing)

— ❄️

okay got it, i’ll remember that!! /silly also don’t worry, it’s all good, it’s my fault for letting them pile up ㅠㅠ

1) + 2) do you really think that idiot would ask for sth he wants and he would benefit from? no no, he has to make both of you struggle and then he’ll pretend he hates it but repay you tenfold

3) i mean it’s hard to believe in general but yesterday there was an added bonus of self doubt heaped onto the normal amount, so uhh idk it just doesn’t seem plausible (though i still think about it lots)

funnily enough, i already now that artist bc ofc their xiao content inevitably crossed my fyp and then just kept coming back jsjsh they make him so— *unidentifiable noises* i just want to hug him and shower him in love

[causmonaut]

aaaand we’re back…

with another long ass post !!

documenting my stupidity immaturity:::::

she tweets: i love my bf!

he tweets: i love my gf!

she tweets: i miss my hubby i cant eat or sleep i cant breath i cant live like this

and hoooowwww do i see it? by logging into the acc i follow her on (to softblock everyone and keep the account as an archive since i had been using it for years)…

i !!! was confused? at first. then icked out… then hurt.

how do you shit on me for not even directly questioning your sexuality once because you loved to talk about dating men and dated and LOVED a man for 3 years, and say you’re a pure lesbian and i’m projecting by suggesting that you might have curiosity or the capacity to be attracted to men .. and then go date a man?

that part got me for a bit but her sexuality is really none of my business nor do i really care about it past the fact that she got super aggressive with me when i would question her comments. if she’s figuring out her sexuality then, good on her. i don’t believe in holding anyone to labels they’ve given themselves, it takes a long while before someone might settle (or decide not to settle) on whatever label(s) they feel comfortable with.

but it confirms that she’s with someone, it confirms that she likely lined him up soon after or before she dumped me which also stings because i think she’s shown me my worth to her so many times and it’s really not much. i think i was worth more than a few weeks of recovery? but it’s fine. i think she’s emotionally constipated and avoidant as fuck so i lowkey hope it all builds up and blows up in her face eventually (this is hateful, i’m rarely ever hateful…)

i decided to reach out before yesterday ended because it gave me an excuse to go and a: make it known that i know she’s a “lesbian” with a boyfriend and b: make it clear that i think it’s best i don’t have her on any of my social media accounts.. so i removed her on my defunct instagram… removed her from the server we used to share stuff and vc during games… took her out of groupchats with my friends.

her responses vv

“my tweets? do we still follow eo anywhere? but yeah, sure. please delete my personal info on there.”

“ooh i see”

“alright alright, thanks”

^^ putting these here.. for a few reasons

i think it’s important for me to reflect on how little energy she was giving me despite my long-winded over-explanations for my actions.. i wanted to make it clear i wasn’t removing her out of malice and stuff.. but really i don’t think i owed her the clarification.

i don’t think she thinks that deeply about things, and probably didn’t care much since they’re logical steps.

i wish i could’ve been more reserved during a lot of our conversations together but my overthinking makes it so hard not to assume she’d need the same reassurance as i might need in that situation.

i think for the first time she’s actually given me pretty mature responses. curt, dry, detached. probably in part because i’ve been pathetic as fuck in a lot of my messages to her, i’m sure she’s tired (i know she’s tired).

i would like to adopt her way of being firm in her decisions and knowing when to step away.

i could’ve honestly just quietly removed her from things, didn’t need to open up that can of worms or do that to myself or her.

i’ve now been dealing with the consequences of feeling a little hurt by her short responses, by removing her from things i wasn’t ready to remove her from.. by her moving on so quickly. her using the L word .. didn’t necessarily want her to while she was with me but she couldn’t say it even after a year, but with anyone else she’s said it within months? my self worth has taken a major hit. i think it’s half her and half me. two mentally ill people cannot function together for sure.

on the topic of mental illness, she subtweeted .. with “mental illness” .. friend saw and sent over a screenshot

yes, i’m mentally ill. i deal with chronic depression, anxiety disorder, a whole separate cocktail of other stuff, and ADHD… not to mention addiction (sober, btw).. and if we are being honest i am probably bordering on a personality disorder and all of that in combination with my anxious attachment style turn me into a monster when i’m with someone who can’t meet my needs or be consistent.

i recognize that and my needs, and what i need to work on.. i’ve known for a very long time but i still end up being attracted to manic types who are wishy washy and leave me questioning their intentions 24/7… this last girl was also a love bomber so that was not fun.

not excluding my own mistakes and toxic tendencies btw. i could lean into manipulative territory when i was upset, probably overloaded her with information in attempt to be transparent and it likely came off as being over critical and uncaring, because she could be petty i also allowed myself to be petty, too. we would get snappy at each other, she’d fuck up and i’d hold it against her for a while because she’d never genuinely apologize.. i’d fuck up and she’d never let it go, never communicate, only bring it up when it was too late for me to make up for it. it just wasn’t a good match.

but at the end of the day, once again, i can blame others as much as i want for things. i can hate her, i can ruminate on how little i must’ve meant to her in comparison to how much she meant and still means to me, i can torture myself with old screenshots or what ifs and would’ve should’ve could’ves but it doesn’t serve me.

^ easy to recognize that it doesn’t serve me but hard to not think or do these things anyway. i’m not good at combatting negative thoughts. i either don’t have them or they dominate all other thoughts. no in-between.

i think my anxiety and tendency to overthink are the biggest roadblocks i face.

kind of feeling like i am damaged goods. kind of feeling like i’d rather not date again so i don’t turn into an insecurity monster over someone that ain’t shit for the hundredth time.

life is tough as is. i have a lot on my plate, and sometimes i fear i’ll never feel peace. i don’t need a relationship to come and muddy everything up on top of all of the shit i go through on a regular basis.

buut as much as i don’t need it, that fear of loneliness sure does know how to creep in at just the right moments.

i’m talking about general loneliness. dying alone.. being distant from family… but also romantic loneliness, yea. everyone grows and branches out, my friends will find people they’ll go live in their own little bubble with, my cousins will do the same.. my parents are split and it wont be long before they both find people, too.. and here i am, their adult daughter who Should be more independent but i have honestly been so stunted by the amount of trauma we’ve all been through and it’s hard to feel my age, hard to cope with the fact that my life is my own. i don’t have the support structure of someone with parents that love them unconditionally or healthily.. it’s hard to grow when i spend so much time in their shadow trying to patch things up with them and help out without ever being nurtured in return.

in a lot of my relationships, i’m the one who lifts and supports others while i’m expected to get through things on my own. i fear it won’t ever change.

this all sounds very woe is me but i think i deserve to sit in that energy for a bit.

[cockbiteproductions]

if you told me a month ago i would be 4.5 seasons into supernatural again i would’ve shot you AND YET.

[the-heaminator]

Day 5 Pruk week,  Family/first kiss:

This is what inspired me to write one of my fics "but muum", but i havent gotten around to writing up to it yet, this will be added as a chapter later, but i think you should probably read the fic first to get a vague gist of what the fuck is going on, but this could perhaps be read as a standalone.

@prukweek

Both Arthur and Gilbert, to say the least, were a fucking adorable pair, everyone in the family and most out of it agreed.

And right now, in Arthur's incredibly tired state, and Gilbert in an emboldened one from his chat with Matthew, they were both in the same bed, as usual.

To anybody else two men sleeping in a bed together and cuddling was kinda gay, and it was kinda gay just the two had managed to put off admitting it for far too long and just about everyone was incredibly done with their shit.

Even fucking Ireland and Belgium who both had their little thing going in between them were done with their shit.

Being a man of both far too many and far too inhibitions, Arthur had decided to not sleep for about 3 nights straight, and aside from looking absolutely more undead than usual, sleep deprivation tends to make him more clingy, though only to people he trusts, otherwise. He becomes a whole other universe if grouchy, snapping at everyone and everything.

The rest if the family had managed to covince Arthur to lay the fuck down, and by convince i mean that Ireland and New zealand threatened to kill both him and Alfred with a spoon to get them to sleep, and in instead of risking a slow painful death from brain damage, they decided to actually go the fuck to sleep.

Matt had given Gilbert an encouraging thumbs up, Zee had given him a high and wished him luck, India gave him a look that said "teenagers" as if he wasn't nearly a thousand, well that was about a quarter of India's age.

Anyways Australia asked Gilbert to promise him, that if this worked he would treat Arthur well or he would be dead, and this was said with such honesty and actual familial love, that Gilbert swore on his own life, wondering how Arthur had managed to be blessed with such amazing children.

The British isles gave a similar sort of threat, but with concern for both, Dylan saying "I know he's a bastard, but he is very bad when it comes to matters of the heart, so please be gentle with him please."

Spoken like a true older brother, speaking for his entire emotionally constipated brood.

Denmark gave him a rather interesting text that detailed far too many things about the  Englishmans sex life that seemed to be written by France, why Denmark had the text was beyond him, also leaving him with a couple words of "encouragement", Denmark warned that if Arthur murdered him, he wont be paying for his funeral.

Gilbert knew this was the jest of a close friend, he was not dim enough to take it seriously, but as he apprehensively walked up the stairs and down the corridor to Arthur's room, he started to have second thoughts.

I mean I could always wait a few more days.

Or years.

Or centuries.

The thought of waiting much longer was so utterly miserable to Gilbert's mind that his psyche went.

Nah fuck it.

And allowed him to walk into the room where Arthur was decidedly not sleeping, somehow still awake enough to be tapping away at his laptop, though slower than usual, Gilbert approached him.

"Arthur, you really should sleep?" That was not what he wanted to come out at that moment but for once Gilbert did not have a plan and was (as some would say) going with the flow.

And currently the flow was about as smooth as the Volga in midwinter, which was to say that it was barely flowing at all, but when Arthur didn't move from his chair, Gilbert had to try a more imaginative approach.

"Come lay down, we can cuddle?" That sounded to fucking cheesy to Gilbert and Arthur looked at him, a little wistfully if he would say so himself, though it could very much just be a trick of the light.

"What makes it look like i *yawn* want to cuddle?" Arthur was speaking a bit too quick to be normal, great he was jacked up on caffeine too.

"Well, you're always cuddling me when you do sleep, and you look absolutely adorable." Ooh bit too direct, I hope he doesn't think in an ass or something.

"You're an ass Gilbert, you know that." 

WHAT DID I SAY, I KNEW HE WOULD SAY THAT.

Gil thought he fucked up good as Arthur's eyes travelled from him to the computer, back and forth as if to decide which would be more profitable for him, and to buy Arthur's and Gilbert's surprise, Arthur chose Gilbert.

Tips of his ears far too red Arthur grumbled "Don't get any ideas, I'm just tired." Before getting into bed and mentioning for Gilbert to join him after switching off his laptop, on some tab about trade reports and governmental deficits that seemed so frightfully boring.

The room now cloaked in darkness, and the house being unnaturally silent, even as everyone was awake, the two lay down on the bed together, as if they'd been doing this for centuries.

Which I mean they had but this time it felt a bit different.

Arthur on Gilbert's arm, a bit too close for Gilbert not to think that maybe Arthur actually did love him back, Gilbert's hand slowly going through Arthur's birds nest looking hair, slowly smoothing it out to some semblance of cleanliness before Gilbert, in an odd moment if courage, gave Arthur a chaste kiss on the forehead while both were still awake.

Usually if either ever did a kiss they were drunk or the other was asleep, but now both were very much within consciousness and lucidity.

Gilbert braced himself to get an earful from Arthur, perhaps him even getting out of bed in a huff, but none of that happened, instead Arthur seemed to be mentioning to kiss him again.

WHAT THAT ACTUALLY FUCKING WORKED WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUCK.

He repeated the kiss, this time it lasted a little longer, lingering for a second or two on Arthur's forehead, and if this wasn't such an odd situation Gilbert would have laughed at how the kiss immediately eased the tension within both of their bodies, but this was just too surreal to even be actually happening, and was miles away from Gilbert or Arthur being able to think full cohesive thoughts.

Finally, through a silence that could not be considered awkward, yet not considered incredibly comfortable either, one of them, Arthur, rasped "Gilbert...Gilbert why did you do that?" He sounded far more disbelieving than angry, yet Gilbert still thought he managed to mess something up.

"Shit shit shit, I'm sorry Arthur, really!"

Arthur looked at him, dead in the eye even in the dim light of the room, and seeing the actual fear and misery in his eyes, and the fluttering of his heart in his own chest, Arthur replied with "Why ever so?"

"I-I kissed you, are you not mad?"

"Why would I be Gilbert."

The room descended into silence again, this time loaded with tension and anticipation, which was shattered, rather brutally if I may add, by Arthur saying "Plus that was barely a kiss, let me show you how it's done."

With a surprising amount of agility from someone so sleep deprived, Arthur crashed his lips to Gilbert's, whose mind took a little longer to catch up with what his body was doing, too busy being distracted by this to respond immediately, god this felt so goodboth both their bodies so close together as they kissed.

But when he finally pushed back, he was not expecting such fervent from Arthur, he was even nipping Gilbert's lips as he deepened the kiss far beyond anywhere Gilbert had ever gone younger exploring Gilbert's slack mouth.

The poor soul had had around 3 romantic kisses in his life and was not prepared for this at all, Arthur tasted like coffee and tea with the vaguest taste of old cigarettes

Finally separating, both breathing hard, Gilbert whispered, a garbled mix of English and German "that was amazing."

Arthur looked both very embarrassed and incredibly relieved, one would after waiting so long and having it all come down like this was incredibly satisfying for the both of them.

Arthur slid off Gilbert, tucking himself back in the blanket as if nothing happened, as Gilbert's mind raced at a million miles an hour. Which started to exceed the speed of light as Arthur snuggled up close to him and fell asleep almost immediately, after mumbling, so quietly that Gilbert could barely hear it.

"I love you."