#which makes me assume he returned to his original looks

[mitsuzanekureshima]

also a sidenote on his clothes:

he starts out wearing his depression fit™: colorless w/ the only color being blue (the curtains were blue micchy's shirt is blue therefore he is sad.) the baseball cap hides him- he didn't want the beat riders to see him watching them, and he runs away when zack approaches him.

in comparison to his earlier outfits this one is very casual and borderline listless - the shirt may be collared but it's is open and made of lightweight denim (a casual fabric), his inner shirt is loose fitting, the white sneakers, and the light wash jeans + especially paired with the baseball cap: micchy has worn jeans and sneakers (gaim uniform) before, but never a baseball cap.

he clearly has no energy for life much less his earlier more involved and stiff preppy outfits

then he changes into this striped shirt:

a significant look for him cause this is what he wore when he allied with redyue

and i'm stretching here but

they are different light blue shirts, but his depression blue shirt is worn on the outside: his regular blue shirt is worn on the inside of another shirt - or even, trapped on the inside with the stripes now being like prison bars

as if he's now starting to suppress his feelings (there's no one left who understands him, after all) in a return to normalcy: he's eating breakfast with takatora wearing this, back in the kureshima house, like how things used to be

and when he gets his shit rocked by kougane, he's still wearing this blast-from-the-past ensemble:

however: when he returns with the determination to fight and protect zawame, he's now wearing this outfit:

on first impression, this outfit is very similar to his depression fit:

they share a loose inner tee, a light shirt/jacket on the outside, and a pair of jeans: but the palette has made a significant shift away from light and pale colors to dark and steely ones.

micchy's outfits throughout gaim, even when he's being evil, trend towards quirkily colorful: this one is totally devoid of color, and dark.

yet, it's when he shows the most renewed determination after his fall.

the looseness can be tied to humility: his earlier preppy, stiffer, more "put together" outfits were certainly tinged with arrogance, especially since he mainly starts using them as his casual clothes around team gaim after he begins to betray them - an action stemming from his arrogance

the dark colors can be viewed as an acknowledgement of his sins: the last time we saw micchy in colors this dark was when he was going full evil mode in his suits.

therefore this outfit shows that he has become the atoner of his sins. and starting his atonement by fighting alongside fruit jesus, who contrasts his dark clothes with a shining, light colored palette, is incredibly fitting

random thoughts on ep. 47

when oren said that mitsuzane was a victim and should be treated as such, he was completely right, and i think it was important that the "adult" of the riders made that statement

mitsuzane had been manipulated by others at almost every turn and although he did many bad things, in the end it was he who lost everything.

there's no one left to understand his sin or punish him... takatora (at this point) is gone, kouta and mai are gone, and the worst part is he can blame himself

so him getting to redeem himself and protect zawame and join his friends again + fight with kouta once more is what he needs to be able to move into the future with everyone else & begin his atonement

even though 47 wasn't planned (& not even written by urobuchi), imo it does a lot for micchy and really concretely closes his character arc and lets him move forwards ... from watching the remaining beat riders in 46 to joining them with a real smile in 47

[letoasai]

Will work for food ~ part 2

Part 1 - Master list

Tim was anxious which wasn’t an emotion he often put into use. Even on a bad day he was calculating, overly prepared, and usually ran on caffeine. He was a young genius and a hell of a detective, but nerves probably didn’t care about his resume or personality quirks. 

He rubbed his thumb against the folded piece of paper kept hidden in his pocket. He’d examined it in the batcave but it held no clues of note. It was just a normal sheet of paper, and the ink could have been a pen from any local corner store. No DNA. No fingerprints. All the same, he kept it out of sight in public. 

Tim had been antsy about summoning Phantom, mostly because he felt like he was disrespectfully late. When he’d first laid eyes on the living form of the Ghost King, he’d felt a familiar ache. Neglect. He didn’t know if the king had neglected himself, or if the blame lay at someone else's feet, but he just couldn’t stand it. 

He’d offered food and company in an instant, the words popping out of his mouth before he could think them through. Despite that, he didn’t regret the offer. He could have done without the teasing from his siblings and teammates, but he didn’t regret the offer once. 

His only remorse was with the clean up efforts. The Infinite creature, Vortex, had left quite the destruction in his wake. Even with many extended members of the League assisting with clean up, it took ages. Search and rescues were active and humanitarian groups had arrived to offer aid but some things couldn’t be done in a weekend. 

The bats returning to Gotham didn’t offer much in the way of a break either. A Scarecrow outbreak with his fear toxin. Three different gangs in the middle of a turf war. A weapons smuggling ring being uncovered… It was one thing after another for a minute. 

When all was said and done it had been nearly two months before Tim had the opportunity to keep his promise. He was in his civvies, standing at the mouth of an alleyway across from a little italian place that looked cheap but was actually the best tasting, most authentic italian place in all of Gotham. Little hole in the wall places often were the best. 

The problem now was his ability to overthink things. Would he summon the king in a glow of green that would light up the street like a beacon? Would he arrive in his ghostly form, crown hovering above his hooded head? 

Phantom looked human enough but was he? Did he come from Earth originally? There were plenty of aliens that looked human. It would be rude to assume… 

What name did he use? Did he need to go full title? Why didn’t he ask more questions when he had the chance?

“King Phantom.” Tim muttered, deciding to just go for it. He still clutched the paper sigil out of sight. “Uh, Ghost King Phantom. King of the Infinite Realm. Um… Or was it High King…” 

“Just Phantom is fine.” 

Tim tensed, all of his hair standing on end at the voice directly behind him in the alley. He hadn’t made a sound but he needed to actively work to exhale and turn around to face his guest. There had been zero indication of his arrival, and he was thankfully, in his living form. 

He was in jeans and an over sized hoodie. Tim could just barely make out a faded NASA written in the front. That was a point in the direction of him possibly being a human from Earth. He wore shoes this time, beat up looking kicks that had seen better days. His hood was also drawn over his head, likely to hide his bony appearance. Tim did spy the tail of his braid over his shoulder though, his hair black to further prove he was in his living form. 

“You…scared the hell out of me.” Tim said, smiling after another hard exhale. “I am sorry it took so long, your Highness.” 

“Phantom.” He corrected, looking around the street and taking it all in. Tim could clock him making note of the turns down the street and the buildings with fire escapes even with his hood up. People just had certain body language when casing an area. “I figured it would be a while, if you summoned me at all. I was not going to hold you to a whim, Red Robin.” 

“I said i would…” Tim muttered. “Uh, it’s Tim, out of uniform. If you don’t mind.” 

“Tim.” He repeated. That softness to his voice remained, and honestly, Tim liked the cadence of it. He liked it as much as he was sure he never wanted to hear Phantom raise his voice. “I understand.” He hesitated only a beat. “You can call me Danny. Phantom is probably a silly thing to call someone in a city like this.” 

“Not if it’s your name.” 

“Danny is okay.” He said, and for whatever reason, Tim noticed now how he kept his hands in his pockets, likely to hide them too. Frail, skeletal looking hands would just frighten some people. “Food? For a favor?” 

“No favor involved. I invited you out.” Tim said. “I mean, maybe we can chat about stuff but you aren’t obligated to answer or anything.” 

Phantom…Danny nodded, shuffling for a moment and looking around again. The height of the buildings seemed to be a mild interest of his. “Where are we eating?” 

“Well, if you like Italian, we’re walking across the street.” He thought pasta and breads would be both filling and flavorful. It would also be something easily packed up for Danny to take with him. 

“I’ll eat anything.” Danny informed him. “I have no preferences after all this time.” He hesitated. “Or maybe i need to rediscover them, but anything will be fine.” 

“Let’s… let’s go then.” Tim said, walking with Danny at his side. He’d made a reservation which wasn’t strictly necessary at such a small place but it gave him the option of reserving a corner table to offer them a little more privacy. 

They walked in, the hostess greeting them with a smile before leading them to their table and leaving them with bread, water, and menus. There were a few other full tables but it wasn’t packed the way it would be in the evening. 

Danny kept his hood up, but it was Gotham and no one questioned the decision. They just left him in peace to not start a conflict with someone who wasn’t causing any trouble. He also kept his hands out of sight until the hostess had left. He sipped the water once and broke off only a little piece of the bread. He buttered it and ate on it while flipping open the menu. 

Tim didn’t know if he was reading the English or Italian parts of the menu but it didn’t matter. Being fluent in reading an Earth language was another check mark for this being his place of origin. 

“Can i…” Tim hummed, keeping in mind that he was speaking with royalty and act a little less like Bruce interrogating a suspect. “Can i ask a couple questions?” 

Danny looked up at him, Tim only barely able to make out some of his features passed the unnatural shadows his hood provided. “Sure.” 

Tim smiled, not even bothering with the menu since he knew what he was getting. “You’re the King of a realm, but was Earth your place of origin?” 

“Yes, but not this Earth.” 

Dimensions! Tim filed that away for later. “You can travel to any of them?” 

“Within reason. Yes. I’m old, but not that old yet. Only eight or nine decades.” He tore another small piece of bread to eat. Tim assumed he was pacing himself. “They call me a baby Ancient still.” 

“That’s cool…” Tim muttered. “Are there many other Earths?” 

“The answer to that would never satisfy you.” Danny said softly. “Trust me. I am the Ancient of Space and i’m hardly satisfied with it.” 

There was a new fact for Tim to latch on. “What’s the-” He stopped when the waitress appeared. Both of them ordered, and Tim was certain he’d end up ordering more halfway through the meal so Danny could take more home with him.  

When the menus were taken and the waitress left again, Tim continued. “What’s the difference between being an Ancient of Space and being the Ghost King.” 

“When i died, or half died, it was my fate to one day become the Ancient of Space. I am that regardless. I won the title of Ghost King.” 

Tim dragged a hand down his face. “That’s…. Endlessly fascinating. I have so many questions.” He didn’t even know how to touch ‘half died’ yet. 

Danny hummed once and fiddled with the end of his braid. “Do i get to ask questions too?” 

“Of course.” 

Danny leaned forward, sipping at his water again. “This Earth has super heroes. That’s interesting. Mine didn’t. How long have you been a hero?” 

Tim nodded, figuring that would be the direction the questions would have wandered towards. They were far enough away from everyone in the restaurant that he didn’t worry about being heard. The music playing in the background also helped a great deal. 

“Hero might be a debate depending on who you ask. In Gotham we’re considered vigilanties. I first suited up at thirteen but it was really more like fourteen after a great deal of training.” 

Danny was quiet for a moment. “And how old are you now? I have trouble telling ages these days…” 

“Eighteen.” Tim said. 

“Young.” Danny muttered. “I was young too. Fourteen when i became the bridge. Sixteen before i really understood what it meant.” 

“The bridge?” 

“Balance. The living and the dead.” 

Tim huffed softly. “You wear a lot of hats, don’t you?”  

Danny made a quiet noise, and it took Tim a beat longer than normal to realize he was laughing. “I do, i wish i didn’t most of the time. It’s fine though.” 

“Just fine?” Tim asked after a beat. He knew a little about expectations and high standards that could weigh you down–both his own standards and other peoples. 

Danny nodded, one of his hands resting on the other. “I’ve seen things. Good things. Bad things. Things that will never happen. Things that have. It’s better i have certain powers because i have no desire to use them.” 

Aah. Tim understood that. “People who want too much power are dangerous.” 

“Exactly.” 

“The power of ruling an entire realm…” 

“Exactly.” 

Tim heaved a sigh. “Damn.” Maybe he should ask something less intense. “Did you enjoy the food we gave you last time? It was just some fast food but there was some worry it wasn’t good enough.” 

“It was great.” Danny said and he sounded sincere. “Nostalgic. It took me a few days to eat all of it. I know the Infinite Realm’s reputation, and it is a warranted reputation, but i’m… hard to offend. Little things are just little things.” 

“I’ll put them at ease then.” 

Danny was quiet for a moment, the silence not an oppressive one. “What is the difference between a hero and a vigilante?” 

“How people perceive us, i guess. Superman will always be seen as a hero. Wholesome and valiant and all that. Things in Gotham are altogether… shadier. Being a vigilante isn’t exactly legal and while we have our boundaries, we break the law all the time.” Tim said. They covered their own tracks well but it was fortunate that no one looked too closely at their activities. 

It didn’t bother Tim when he knew his reasons were still good. 

Danny made a thoughtful kind of noise. “I’m willing to bet Superman’s business isn’t purely legal either. This seems like a nice Earth though, despite whatever troubles you have.” 

“Some hero work is sanctioned by the government so it’s a fine line. Any of it could be argued.” Tim explained, and that was something Danny seemed to find fascinating. 

They paused their conversation again when the waitress appeared with their food, and Tim put in a second order for them to take when they left. The eyes Tim could feel on him told him that Danny already knew what they were for. 

He could hear Danny softly inhale and exhale as he looked at the plate in front of him that came accompanied with salad. He likely wouldn’t be able to eat even a fraction of it but the way he looked at it…. made Tim realize that he could see Danny’s face more clearly. The shadows that obscured his face from his hood had receded. He was still gaunt, but he eyed the food with so much joy. 

The first bite of –non fast food– food nearly seemed to overwhelm him in a good way. 

“You know,” Tim swung hard to change subjects. “We can do a bit of a food tour every time i summon you for lunch. Pizza. Chinese. Barbeque. There’s a great taco truck. We could get something homemade.” 

“You cook?” 

“Haa. No.” Tim said seriously. “But Al… my grandpa is an amazing cook and he seemed to think trading food for world saving services was very sensible but he was appalled that we offered you cheap fries and burgers. He’d honestly love to cook for you.” 

Danny smiled, this shy little look that shouldn’t have fit someone with the title of Ghost King but it sure fit Danny. “That could be nice. Decent home cooked meals are kind of mythological to me.” 

Tim nodded once, and knew better than to ask directly. “I didn’t have a very cuddly upbringing either. There was a lot of take-out involved.” 

“Your food ever come back to life and try to eat you instead?” Danny asked and Tim just stared. 

“I can’t…tell if that’s a real question or if you’re messing with me.” 

Danny smiled and was that a hint of fangs? “Dead serious.” 

Time groaned. “No, no you are a king. You are not making puns.” 

“Thinking i’m too mature for puns is a grave mistake.” Danny said without hesitation. 

“Noo.” Tim groaned, lips upturned into a smile. His brothers could never know about this. Dick would start a pun off and Jason’s morbid sense of humor about his own death…. Ugh, it would be bad. 

It did bring up the interesting question of Danny’s age. He said he’d been alive for decades but how did he mature. Was he still a teenager? Did he age slowly? Asking not only sounded like a bad idea, but Raven and Zatanna had both made sure he knew it was a question to not ask. 

They chatted, they ate, or well, Tim ate. Danny ate a bite every few minutes and looked thrilled about it but he was slowing down. Tim was looking forward to Danny being able to eat more with every visit. 

He flagged down the waitress, gesturing for a box and got a thumbs up in return. 

“You can take it with you.” Tim said when Danny was giving him a look. “It might be a couple days before i can call you again and this way you’ll have enough to eat every day.” 

“I can’t deny that.” Danny said. “You don’t have to keep summoning me.”

“I promised you lunches.” Tim said firmly. “And you said it yourself, you should eat more and spend more time in a living realm. You may as well take advantage of being summoned for food.” 

“Hm…” Danny played with the end of his braid again. “You do make a compelling argument. It’s nice to talk to someone without it being preceded by a brawl.” 

Tim stared, “What?” 

Danny just looked amused. “I’ll explain to you etiquette in the Infinite Realm sometime.” 

“Yeah?” 

The waitress returned with boxes for Danny to pack up his meal and the empty dishes were whisked away to make more room on the table while they waited for their to-go orders. 

They were almost startled when a second waitress reappeared with a few little dishes before they could begin speaking again. Everything was set in the middle of the table, presumably for them to share. There was a piece of white peach tart, a bowl of strawberry gelato, and a slice of frozen chocolate chip meringata. 

“Um…” Tim blinked. “We didn’t-”

The waitress chuckled. “It was ordered for you by another patron. Please enjoy.” She set down another set of utensils for them and walked away. 

Danny made a small sound in his throat. “Well i was full but how could i say no to a couple more bites…” 

“Wait.” Tim said, gaze subtly shifting around the room. Maybe he was trained to be paranoid, but it usually served him well. What he found almost instantly had his eye twitching. 

Not even halfway across the room sat a poorly disgusted Dick wearing large sunglasses, a fedora, and the world's least convincing mustache. When he saw Tim looking and grinned and raised his own wine glass. 

“I gotta kill my brother…” 

Danny sputtered out a laugh, so genuinely amused that Tim could definitely see his fangs as he laughed.

“That would make him my problem.” Danny pointed out, reaching for a spoon to try the gelato first. 

“I’m not seeing your point.” Tim said, delighted by Danny’s teasing. It was a rookie mistake to think one of his siblings wouldn’t find out about this. An absolute blunder that he hadn’t noticed Dick walking in after them at all. He’d never live it down. 

“Guess i’ll have to be more careful next time.” He added. 

Danny hummed again and seemed to have a fondness for the cold dessert. “I could always invite you to my realm sometime.” 

“Cool.” Tim said instantly. Ha, let them try to follow him then…

[numinous-scribe]

Siblings by trial and choice

So @noir-renard posted a prompt in Haunting Heroes a little while ago that's had me in a perpetual choke hold ever since.

When the Portal ZAPS Danny, he doesn't just get turned into a half ghost; he gets catapulted halfway across the galaxy. So now he's stuck on an alien ship, trying to deal with new powers, and desperately searching for a way home.

And my immediate thought was "How can I make this about Starfire?", from which everything spiraled.

[Click the pictures for better quality!]

Having assumed that the portal wasn't even supposed to be functional, Danny had absolutely no basis for anything that was happening to him. Not his new look or powers, not for wherever he was, and certainly not for the predicament of where he landed-- A ship he would later come to know as belonging to the slavers known as the Gordanians.

For all Danny knew, he certainly wasn't human anymore, and he might not have even been in the same dimension either; while Earth had been seeing more and more interactions with aliens, he'd never seen any quiet like these, and his parents had said that the portal was designed to view a whole other world.

And that was terrifying! He was Danny Fenton, just fourteen, and so far out of his depth it wasn't even funny. If it weren't for Koriand'r then Danny didn't know how he would have kept it all together.

As it were, Kor'i had already been enslaved for four years by this point. She knew what it was like to suddenly be cut off from everything she'd ever known, and the torment that was awaiting this strange boy that had appeared in a flash of green light. So even though she had nothing to give, Kor'i stuck by Danny's side.

Together, for the next two years, they fed each other hope.

Naturally, returning to Earth was a big ordeal for Danny, and by proxy for Kor'i as well. Over the two years they spent enduring harsh labor and torture from both their Gordanian captors and the Psions, Danny had confided in all sorts of stories about his home world and vice versa Kor'i about Tamaran. After confirming that he hadn't been transported to another reality, and that this was his Earth, Danny had been so excited to return home and to introduce Kor'i to his friends and family.

But while Earth was still the same, home... was not.

His parents were in jail; not only for their unethical and code violating lab, but because they were so neglectful to the point that minors were able to get into the lab unsupervised and one of them— Danny —was able to access their faulty machine and, presumably, died.

Jazz got picked up by the state, but quickly managed to get herself emancipated and now lived in some other state attending college.

The Manson's moved. Sam was a wreck and not coping well at all; her parents were considering having her committed to an institution for a bit to help her last anyone had heard.

The Foley's couldn't afford to move, so Tucker had to carry on with life as well as he could. He's quiet now, not as verbose and shameless as before, more of a hermit than anything.

And since he's been presumed dead, and can't figure out how to disprove that, honestly, Danny doesn't know how to pick back up where he left off. He can't. Because everything, including him, has changed as well.

But, like she's always done since the moment they met, Kor'i was there for him. And now they have a new family in the Teen Titans as well.

Bonus:

Close ups of Phantom and Starfire. Danny's suit design is a mixture of some of his original concept art and @the-stove-is-on-fire's designs :)

[wonderjanga]

wonderjanga, I Summon thee and ask that you bless apon thee with Black Adam and Captain Marvel misunderstanding content. (Please. Thank you and good day.)

Ps. Hope you are having a wonderful day or night.

Misunderstandings on Black Adam’s side:

Black Adam: “It is I! Black Adam!”

Marvel: *stares for a solid second* “…Who?”

*silence*

Black Adam: “What do you mean ‘who?’ I am Black Adam.

Marvel: *looks around* “Sir, I don’t know who you are.”

See, Teth thought there was no way in the world that the current Champion wouldn’t know who he was. So, he immediately assumed the guy was lying to be rude. After all, there was no way the Wizard would appoint a Champion and then not tell them about the previous Champion that was sealed away because of his… strong opinions on certain matters.

Black Adam: “Yes, you do.”

Marvel: “No, I don’t.”

Black Adam: “Yes. You do.”

They went back back-and-forth for a bit before Adam gave up and just attacked him. If the Champion was gonna be so disrespectful that he’d claim that he somehow didn’t know him, he’d show him some disrespect in return.

Then there’s the second misunderstanding.

It came about when Adam had some Kahndaqi investigators dig up some stuff on anything that could point to the Champion’s true identity. They still found out about Billy, but he wasn’t who they thought he was.

Black Adam: “So you have a child.”

Marvel: “What?”

Black Adam: “You have a child. William Joseph Batson?”

Marvel: *looks like he’s about to shit bricks*

Black Adam: lOur similarities never cease to make me ill.”

Marvel: *just decides to go with it* “My bad…?”

Adam was so salty about this because this made him realize that as a fellow father, he couldn’t kill him. The information he dug up showed that while he was somehow alive, his wife certainly wasn’t. Teth wasn’t about to make an innocent little boy to be an orphan, regardless of whether the fact his father was the Champion. That wasn’t gonna stop him from hating the circumstances though.

Misunderstandings on Billy’s side:

As mentioned before, Billy had no clue who Adam was at first. So he immediately assumed this guy was magical if he had powers.

Marvel: “So how were you created?”

Black Adam: “Why does that matter?”

Marvel: “Because I want to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

Black Adam: *gives him a strange look*

Billy originally thought Adam was a stray piece of the living lightning that flew off somewhere and became evil somehow.

Then he assumed this guy was in fact, not magical and instead super rich because he had a bunch of guys following him around as Billy.

Billy: *standing at a crosswalk, sweating*

Khandaqi Info Collector: *shamelessly taking five million photos*

Yeah… The Khandaqi guys Adam sent were not slick in the slightest.

Not that Billy knew they were from Kahndaq anyways.

The Public’s misunderstandings:

There are none but they’re convinced that the cheese and Adam have beef that spans generations upon generations(which it does, but that’s mostly for Adam, not Billy). They don’t know much about their situation, but they’re suspicious and want to know.

[monotonesmile]

Stealing the boyfriends clothes

[Damian Wayne X GN!Reader]

[Word Count: 729]

[Warnings: N/A]

———————————————————————

Damian had been searching for a very specific shirt he had wanted to wear today, walking around his bedroom without a shirt, questioning where the hell his turtleneck sweater could’ve gone.

“Darling? Have you seen my shirt?” Damian sighs as he calls to his partner, searching through his closet with a disgruntled expression, pulling the hangers back as if assuming the shirt fell from its hanger at a point.

“Which one…?” They call back to him as they’re in the bathroom attached to his bedroom, getting ready for the day.

“The dark green turtleneck, I can’t find it, and I had wanted to wear it today.” Damian steps back from his closet, still confused on where it could’ve gone, he keeps track of all of his things, it couldn’t have just disappeared. He walks over to the bathroom, nudging the door open so he can talk to them rather than call back and forth through his room.

“I have no idea where it…could’ve…gone…” Damian blinks slowly as he looks at his partner who is staring at him with a sheepish expression, dawning the very sweater he was looking for. “You took my sweater.” He states in a blunt manner.

“Yeah…” They smile sheepishly as they set down their toothbrush, looking over at Damian and recognizing the expression on his face, he’s staring at the sweater with narrowed eyes.

“Take it off.” Damian stares at them before stating his words in the most blunt manner they’ve ever seen from the man.

“What.” They were so baffled by his demand, they could only stare at him with confusion in their wide eyes.

“My sweater, take it off before I do.” Damian repeated himself, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe with an unamused expression, wanting his sweater back; he's never been one to share his clothes.

“No…” They drawled out their response, stubbornly not wanting to remove the sweater from their person. Their response makes Damian’s eyes narrow as he gets up, stepping towards them.

“Give me back my sweater.” Damian corners them against the counter, planting his hands on the counter to trap them, gripping the countertop tightly as he scowls down at them. “Do not make me use force, beloved.”

“…you have no idea how hot this is, do you?” They mutter as they look up at him with a surprised flustered expression, tilting back slightly.

“…what.” Damian blinks at them, his eyes wide, shocked out of his original purpose by their words, he definitely wasn’t expecting that, this was hot…? “Wait, what do you mean-“

“Shut up!” They cut him off, covering his mouth with their hands as their face warms up, blushing heavily, as they shut their eyes tightly.

Damian sighs behind their hands deadpanning at them with a raised eyebrow, unimpressed by the fact they covered his mouth, he rolls his eyes before grabbing their wrist and moving their hands off his mouth, leaning down to fully face them.

“Don’t cover my mouth.” Damian frowns, holding their wrists so they don’t cover his mouth again.

“Can you not be hot then? Also, I’m not taking off the sweater, I’m comfy and it smells like you.” They pout at him, still flustered because they’re currently pinned in place and now they can’t move.

“…fine. Keep the sweater, but I expect it back by the end of the day, beloved.” Damian sighs in defeat, releasing their wrists and backing away now, freeing them from his looming presence.

“You got it, just…do that again at some point, it was hot.” They chuckle sheepishly, returning to their morning routine, just a bit flustered now.

“You are so weird.” Damian shakes his head as he crosses his arms, watching them go about their routine, before he leaned over to kiss their cheek and walk out of the bathroom to find a different shirt to wear for the day.

“You love me!” They call from the bathroom, Damian’s lips quirk up slightly in a small smirk as he searches his closet again, on a new mission to find a different sweater.

“Yeah, yeah…” Damian mutters before grabbing a black sweater instead, pulling it on over his bare torso, joining them back in the bathroom and wrapping his arms around them from behind, watching them in the mirror with a rare smile on his face. “I do love you, you idiot.”

———————————————————————

[Requests are open!]

[girlwhorizzed]

I WANT YOUR HIGH LOVE AND EMOTION ENDLESSLY..

in which ♡ you show your boyfriend how much you appreciate all he does for you, how selfless he is when it comes to you.

a/n ፧  haii guys :3 i haven't wrote jj in awhile so here!! hope whoever reads enjoys ♡

pairings ፧  boyfriend!jj ✗ reader

warnings ፧  m!receiving, f!giving, blowjob, language, smut, ꒰⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

jj could barely care for himself. going on two-to-three days with the same worn out muscle tank that lost it's original color, and about two days without a shower. another two days without changing socks. he was used to living that way, not that he was proud or anything but he just didn’t care either. he never really minded going out smelling like smoke, he re-wore almost all the clothes he had to his name,

in his head — that was just the image that sold.

that's why, for a guy who can't even properly care for himself— cared for you like he did was surprising. he was surprisingly nurturing in his own way, it was an odd side to him that most people didn’t get to see. he’d bring you food if he knew you hadn’t eaten - even if he’d barely eaten himself, when you had bad headaches he’d be extra soft and caring, he’d always let you steal his clean shirts to wear to sleep in.

you had tried countless times to get this boy to atleast look like he’d showered in the last 2 weeks, but there was no use. he’d roll his eyes and shove you off - “i ain’t dirty mama, get off me" he’d smirk, laughing to himself.

it was a completely different story though when it came to you. you were practically the only exception to his lack of…cleanliness. always making himself presentable when you were coming over, making sure to spray a little more cologne— shave his armpits and put the cleanest or close to cleanest clothes he had, put on deodorant and actually ran fingers through his hair.

no one really knew about the sweet side of him, and he intended on keeping it that way, at least for the sake of his reputation around the island. his persona was that of a guy who only cared about getting by and getting stoned. no one would’ve been able to tell that he was actually a softie on the inside. only you and him knew the way he touched you and held you — like glass.

which is why today, your going to show him how much your appreciate it. , how much you appreciate the times he'd taken you to his home although you knew what went on there. the time he still attended midsummers face scratched up n'all for you even if he couldn't be your date. but it wasn’t as if this would be the first time you’ve reciprocated his efforts. you were always sure to be there for him, to bring him snacks or drinks or whatever you knew he needed after a long day.

you knew he didn’t expect anything in return and that he did it all because he wanted to but, you felt like today you were going to show him how much you appreciated the way he treated you — how he kept you safe and looked after you, even though you could clearly look after yourself.

with nothing left in mind to try and give him that he wouldn't reject, one thing you know he couldn't reject is getting his dick sucked. it's something that he'll push any task to the side for, for example. going to hang out with john b but just when he's leaving— his girl, so pretty and perfect gawing at his shorts. he can't reject that, never. that's your personal mission today and you keep your word to it.

when you get to the dilapidated home that you register as your man's home, his bike out front and front door open, you can already hear him inside the house, laughing and mumbling small-talk with another person— who you assume is a customer, you stay quiet and off to the side, like jj taught you when he's doing business.

he can sense you’re around, even with someone in his home. he always knows when you’re close by — something about him is just like that. his head snaps in your direction for a second, just a glimpse, before he returns his attention back to the business at hand. he knows you’re there to see him, like you always are, just waiting for him to be available. he wishes he could just pull you out and into his arms — right there infront of the guy who’s here for product.

jj's made it very clear and instructive face-to-face with you that it's not he doesn't trust you, it's he doesn't trust them. you'd think for having these guys he does business with in his circle, he'd at least trust them. but no, he’s quick to list the ways he'd harm them if anything ever were to happen to you. making it clear by a simple glare — that you’re off limits. he’s hyper protective over you, and he has a no-bullshit tolerance for anyone who wants to disrespect the boundaries he’s set. he knows they watch you when they think he’s not looking — they see you as some form of eye candy.

you feel a little flushed, cheeks red and warm. you always do when you take notice of that look in jj's eyes whenever he gets all protective over you, it's quick and short but you still take note of it, only catching sight of it every here and now. it's something wrong to feel but you can't help but at least get a tingle, or perhaps a little shiver between your legs. the way his brows furrow instinctively anytime your mentioned in any form thats inappropriate, and how his fists clench— he can't let any guy other than him see you that way. your his girl and although none of his customers are yet to try and chatty up with you, he's still on guard.

he knows how to be scary at the flick of a switch, he’s good at it. especially when it came to his pretty lil girlfriend being around. just the thought made his blood boil. he’d never be able to let it go if anything happened. he’s so on edge tonight that he barely even registers when the guy in front of him excuses himself to go to the bathroom, disappearing round the corner. he’s distracted. his eyes flickering over to you in the corner, his expression quickly softening. it almost seems like he’s missed you.

the paying customer returns back, taking to long for jj's liking— he slides the blonde a fifty during a casual dab-up trying to shield the exchange of money and weed, you notice even though their own jj's premise, they still do the same old tactics if they were exchanging in public— you’re used to this by now, the whole transaction, the way jj’s eyes dart from the guy in his home to your pretty little body all leaned against the doorframe. he’d be lying he said he never got a little thrill of being this close with you, while having a business deal go down infront of him. it was like he was rubbing it in their faces — having you in there while their business was being exchanged. ‘specially this guy, who’s definitely had a few looks that jj’s not happy about.

a couple minutes pass and the customer stills standing in front of the blonde, it ticks jj off even more and he's quick to shoo him off— rushing him out the door with a "c'mon man, get outta here."

he shuts the door hard behind himself, his gaze instantly snapping back to you. he takes the two large steps to close the gap between you both, suddenly grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him — crashing your bodies flush together and you almost let out a yelp, not expecting him to be so rough. you try to helplessly call out his name but he holds you so intensely close that you’re pressed against his chest, which is heaving with heavy breaths, the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

you can feel his tenseness through his shirt, manicured nails massaging his scalp to attempt to lessen his stress, just as your about to suggest that maybe he just needs your pretty lips on his dick— you feel him start to relax into you. the way you touched him had almost an instant effect on him. he let out a shaky and unsteady exhale, his grip suddenly less tight but still as possessive as ever. every time you touched him like this it almost put him in a trance, like you’d just drugged him. he’s been like this for a while, he needs to relax. and you’re the only thing that’ll help.

he buries his face into your shoulder, the tension in his body quickly deflating away. a small moan escapes your mouth as he presses sloppy kisses against your skin. you speak softly and slowly because your starting to understand. he thinks that your going to get whisked away by some guy, whom your not sure you've even seen other than here buying from your boyfriend. "here, this time you stop caring for me, let me care for you."

he almost wants to protest, but the way you sound so sweet and caring is too much for him to deny. he’s tired, he’s agitated and he’s just desperate to lose himself in you. “yeah? and how’re ya gonna do that, mama?” he murmurs, against your skin, voice low and strained. he suddenly lifts his head, so his face is right infront of yours, eyes heavy and lustful as he takes you in.

you let out a giggle, even in this state he still addresses you with that coy little nickname. your not sure how you even achieved it in the first place. "you'll see." you say quickly, you lead him to the couch where most of your hookups always occur, he seems to have muscle memory because he's quick to pin you down and take action, but not today.

his body covers yours, making you feel so small beneath him. it’s a sensation you love — the weight of his body against yours, all that strength and power that you know he has in him. you’re surprisingly strong, managing to shift you both so you’re on top in his place, his eyebrows raising in surprise. he doesn’t let on, but it’s something really sexy to him when you take control.

you slowly get off him, but not without accidentally giving him a little bump through his shorts as your getting off. "sit up." you instruct, already on your knees on the semi-molded wooden floor that you can put up with for now. you've ditched your pretty bow-pink kitten heels and wiped the access clear lipgloss off your lips from his sloppy kiss.

you could see the lift in his shorts, knowing he gets hard at the slight friction. he complies, he doesn’t say a word, but he does as he’s told. he props himself up against the couch behind him, legs spread to fit you right in-between them.

your dainty little hands are on his shorts in an instant, undoing his belt as quick as you'd do whenever jj picked you up some foolish little boxed figurine from some gift shop. once his shorts are down and you can physically see his dick sticking up through his boxers,

his gaze is locked on you, his eyes heavy and lustful with desire, a permanent smirk on his face tugging at his lips, "didn't know you were a freak like that." he joked, of course. at a time like this he cracked jokes.

you look up at him with your brows furrowed. "do you want to get your dick sucked or not?" you asked, straight forward and bluntly. he nods with a hence of speed that his head ought to fall off. you shake yours, giggling till his random erupt comment has you speechless— "don't get mad if my cum gets in your eye again, kay?"

a deep shade of red instantly spreads across your cheeks, his words causing the heat to pool between your thighs. you almost erased that memory from your head. “oh my god.. you’re gross” you huff, but there’s no denying the excitement in your tone.

he chuckles, the smirk he sports still plastered on his face. he’s almost never this relaxed and calm, but having himself pressed in your hands at a moment like this has him like a little puppy — he can’t help himself. he’s got yet another smart ass comment on the tip of his tongue before it gets cut off by a gasp from him, watching as your mouth lowers onto his dick. he can feel it twitch as you look up at him, making him let out a quiet whimper.

he’s trying to keep his cool, still wanting to make a comment or two while you’ve got him in your mouth. it’s hard though; you’re really good at this, he’s got to give you credit. his breathing is labored, one hand clutching the couch arm behind him while the other grabs the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair instinctively as a moan escapes his lip. you almost want to be on your knees just for him all the time. the things you do to him, all his self control is flying out the window.

at his noises and the facade he's trying to keep up but desperately failing, inspired you to work your mouth faster— swirl your tongue over his tip more than twice. you pull him from your mouth, your lips making a pop noise, the salvia and spit from your mouth connects your lips with his tip, your quick to shove his dick back into your mouth. your little hands are holding him down by his thighs from shifting around, he's all jittery and weak from you.

compliments, praises, curses under his breath. he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, at first. he’s so lost in the sensations you’re sending through him that his mouth is moving without even realising, words that you’re able to understand between his strangled moans.

“just like that, mama, you’re so goddamn good —“ he’s a mess. a sweaty, heavy breathing mess; all your doing. it’s so different from usual, when he has you all breathless and trembling beneath him — it’s all he can take to bite his lip as not to let any more embarrassing noises escape.

you feel his fingers grip a little more at your hair, his noises coming out a little louder. his moans are like music to your ears, the way his head tilts back and his thighs start to twitch at every move you take — it’s really a sight to see him like this. he’s always so confident and cocky, but he’s getting wrecked by you and he’s never really been like this. he’s just so vulnerable and sensitive, it just adds to the whole image of this guy everyone seems to be scared of.

your free hand that isn't holding him down from squirming around is fiddling with his balls— pinching and even taking a few moments to show appreciation to them as well, your mouth gives a minute rest to jj as you cup his balls into your mouth, it's a struggle but you still do so, your working to his finish line. there's spit everywhere, but your only focused on his dick. your lips are quickly back wrapped around him.

it’s just all becoming too much for him to handle, each passing second he’s getting more and more overwhelmed. the noises he’s making are completely foreign, he’s usually so composed and in control but for once he’s willing to give that up in your hands. he’s losing it, all the self control that he’s capable of is gone as he gives in. he manages to form a semblance of a sentence, his head lolled back against the couch and words strangled and strained, “gonna — baby, m'close.. gonna cum!"

you pull away from his dick, his hand still very much pulling on your hair— "c'mon jayj, it's okay, you can do it." you push out, beginning to pepper kisses all on his thighs, before wrapping your mouth around him one last time.

that little praise comment and the amount of pressure built up his release, before you knew it he was whimpering and groaning, tugging at your ends and unable to vocally speak a sentence at the pleasure, without warning— his warm cum shot up right down your throat, your sat on your ass now the abrupt unannounced cum sitting in your mouth, you look up at jj from your position not knowing what to do next. after all jj always guided you.

he’s finally able to form actual words; “shit— sorry mama. just swallow. ” his voice is strangled and breathless, but his softness to you and his tone is still very much there. his eyes are half shut, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. he’s waiting on every little move you make,. he’s a pretty sight, all slumped on the couch and wrecked. he needs a few moments before he’s himself again, but for now he’s all yours, completely at your mercy.

you follow what he said, swallowing down the warm liquid from the stimulation you caused, you wipe your mouth afterwards with your hand— still sitting and waiting for what to do next. you look like a little puppy waiting for it's owners instructions, your lips are all plumped and filled with gloss that isn't your typical gloss but it still works.

the look he sees on your face is enough to get him back to his senses, still slightly out of breathe and hazy. he opens his mouth to say something but is quickly cut off by the sight of you still sitting there, clearly waiting for instruction. it’s then that he remembers that he usually is the one to guide you into things like this. he knows you’re lost. “c’mere.” he mutters through a huff of his breath, tugging at your arm.

you lift yourself up onto the couch next to him, a little too eager to do whatever he wants you to — just like usual. he can see it in your expression, he can see that you’re waiting for his guidance. he gives you a little smile, hand brushing his thumb against your cheek. he’s still got that gleam in his eyes, the smirk still tugging at his lips. he’s still him, he’s just recovering himself from such intense pleasure.

“take a drink.” he instructs quietly, nodding towards the glass of water on the table beside the couch. he’s watching you, waiting to see you take a sip. you do as you’re told, taking a long and thorough gulp of the liquid. he’s eyeing you intently, not speaking while you drink. he’s just observing you, taking you in.

once you’ve swallowed down it down, you place the glass back on the nightstand. you feel his fingers graze his way over to your chin, lifting your head up so you’re looking up at him. you’re so vulnerable as you sit there, your big innocent looking gaze staring back at him, waiting for him to give you what to do next. he knows it, he’s well aware of how you are after this type of stuff.

he can’t help but to let out a little chuckle as he sees your expression, soft and vulnerable — wanting to be told what to do. he can’t deny that it’s a turn on for him, you being so soft and willing to do anything for him. he wants to mess with you, see how far he can go and you would do for him. “didn't wanna kiss you if you didn't drink water, would've tasted my own cum.” he chuckles, thumb dragging against your lower lip.

you roll your eyes, slapping his bare shoulder playfully before you took it upon yourself to pull up his boxers, knowing him he would've stayed with his dick out all day. "should've spit it out." you joke, shaking your head judgementally as you switch positions to be facing the opposite way, but still keeping an eye to see his reaction.

he looks offended, like he can’t believe you’d have done that to him. he lets out a scoff, but then his face breaks into a smirk and then chuckling at your joke. he shakes his head, taking notice of your new position. he pulls you by your waist until you’re sitting in front of him on his lap, leaning back into his chest. he presses a little kiss to your temple before resting his chin on your shoulder. “you know i taste pretty good.” he teases, snaking an arm around your waist.

[ilylovelyz]

housewife! reader w traditional! manly! ushijima makes my knees weak omg. the thought of this man training all day to come home to his little housewife and a home cooked meal!! he doesn’t care that you aren’t done setting the table he’s gonna bend you over it anyways. he’s just so in love w you!

sjdjjwje

this is kinda dark but the thought of him hiding ur birth control pills or replacing them with the sugar pills so he can knock you up oh my daysss like what’s the point of letting him fill your womb if he can’t put a baby in there :(

⍣ ೋ Million Dollar Man

˚ · . dilf!ushijima x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ dubious consent of impreg (?), birth control sabotage, traditional!husband ushijima, stay at home/housewife!reader, kitchen sex (yummy), misogyny (?), breeding, degradation + humiliation, size comparison, size kink, big dick toshi, dacryphilia, cervix fucking, just a whole lotta breeding <3, mentions of pregnancy dur

࣪𓏲ּ i was originally gonna work on an angsty fic for hinata but this was calling me </3 ushijima is so lana del rey

you're screwed up and brilliant you look like a million dollar man

"i'm home." he calmly says, careful to not close the door so noisy.

he takes off his shoes like normal, changing into his house slippers shortly after. he's inhaling eagerly, the scent of well-cooked rice filling his senses.

he walks to the kitchen, his slipper clad feet softly pattering against the natural wood that is his traditional house's flooring. he passes by the doorway that connects to the living room, glancing in and stealing a look that is his first born daughter napping on the floor next to his also sleeping second daughter.

he makes a mental note to not be so loud as they are napping, he knows better than to disturb them.

"welcome home, wakatoshi." you say with that warm smile of yours, eyes crinkling up at the sight of your husband. he softly smiles at you in return, grunting softly in response.

his eyes look over to the stove, a large pot with a cover surely boiling, and then to the rice cooker; which is what he assumes is full of already well-done rice.

he looks back at you curiously, he can only guess what you're making, he doesn't cook often, thats your job as a housewife.

"i'm makin' hayashi rice, you're favorite."

his cheeks can only tingle with shyness, to anyone he might just look ungrateful or monotonous, but it's far from that.

he adores you.

"thank you," he says, taking a few steps towards you until his chest is a few inches away from your face.

he towers over you, you have a tiny frame compared to his almost gigantic one. some have even questioned the two of you about it, stealing a couple of snide jokes here and there.

he can't lie and say that he doesn't find it "interesting." he brings a hand suddenly up to your head, patting your hair lightly. you blush lightly at his affection, leaning into his gentle touches.

he doesn't understand why you still get so shy around him, but he doesn't mind it. he likes that you're so humble and polite, even when it comes to your own husband that you've known since the young age of 17. you're 33 now.

"hm," he hums lightly, leaning down to press a kiss onto your forehead. he places a few kisses on your forehead, temple and nose before he's taking your chin in-between his fingers and tilting your head upwards so he can kiss you on your lips.

it still surprises you, how he can take your breath away from one kiss. as his hands wrap around your upper back to bring you closer to him, you can only think back to the time when the two of you were younger and less experienced, him having less experience than you, so you had to lead him with the expertise you had.

it was cute then, the way he was the one who trembled under your touch, looking at you curiously for the courtesy to touch you.

oh, how time flies. now the two of you own a home together, and have two children together, two beautiful girls, the youngest still a little less than a year old.

while ushijima has always been so stoic and known for it, he, over the many years that have passed, has become twice the man he was those years ago.

it almost flusters you, and you can't help but look back on those younger days with a bittersweet smile, remembering the little boy who would ask to hold your hand.

you fluster at the way his strong hands are tearing your clothes off boldly in the middle of the kitchen, his mouth breathing in your sweet gasps for air as he kisses you passionately.

he cups the side of your face, holding your face still as he all but explores your mouth with his own tongue. you tremble within his hold, your ankles almost giving in weakly just because of a simple kiss.

he notices, and with a squeal, he's lifting you up easily into his arms, walking over to the dinner table, using one of his arms to move aside the dishes you precariously chose for that night. dinner can wait, you guess.

he lays you over the cold wooden table, his hands caressing and rubbing your bare skin. you look beautiful underneath him, eyes already glazed over with tears, mouth red and plush. your neck has fading love bruises and bites, he takes note of it to make sure to go over them once more later.

his hand comes up to fondle your breast, his other running down your torso and down to your back thigh. you mindlessly softly moan at his touches, it always feels good to be touched by him.

but he shushes you, leaning downwards to rest his forehead against yours. "you'll have to be quiet, you don't wanna wake up the kids, don't you?" he whispers softly, in contrast, his fingers are already gliding themselves over your folds, dipping a finger into your already dripping cunt.

you gasp at his lewd actions, an eyebrow raising at his words. "d-don't you think i-it's a bit unfair to say that and then.." you meekly say, trailing off when he adds in another finger, curling them inside and pressing against your sensitive walls.

"..and then what?" he teases, punctuating his sentence by pressing his finger-pads against that sweet spot. your body jolts with pleasure, a hand of yours coming up to clamp over your mouth to muffle your pathetic moans.

"y-you're mean," you mumble out, eyes stinging with shy tears. it has your eyes widening when he's visibly smirking at your words, pupils dilated and dark with pure lust.

"you're so naughty, don't you feel ashamed, as a mother, to be so wet like this on the diner table of all places? isn't this where your kids eat?" he boldly says, adding in a third finger as to worsen his seeming punishment. bastard.

"t-this isn't—it's not–you're such a bastard..!" you stutter out, your free hand coming up to punch lightly against his chest. he lightly chuckles at your words before he returns to his menacing actions.

"why don't you cum on my fingers like this, mama? don't be so loud, you'll wake your dear kids." he says, standing up straight to watch the way your body trembles and jolts with pleasure at his words. like command, despite your own pleas and mewls of disapproval, you're cumming on his fingers like a whore, on his word.

thats how it should be.

you're panting on against the dinner table, hiding your face into the crook of your elbow. you're quickly setting your attention back on him when he calls out your name, opening your mouth submissively when he presses his the same fingers that are covered in your own cum against your lips, feverly sucking up your own juices from his fingers.

you blush once more when he's lightly scoffing at your actions, his free hand coming up to rush his pants and boxers off, freeing his cock and lining himself up to your cunt. "don't be loud, mama," you gasp at his words, his fat tip popping into the tight confines of your pussy walls.

his pace is already ruthless, almost taunting you as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, his cock snugly fitting against your cervix with every thrust. you try your best not to be so loud, but it's a hard task to do, especially when he's purposely abusing all of your weak spots.

his eyes narrow at your state underneath him, grunting against the skin of your calf when he sees a tear run down your cheek. "crying? does it feel good?" he asks menacingly, his free hand coming up to squish your cheeks together degradingly, forcing you to pout within his grip.

it only makes you cry harder at his mean gestures, he never fails to make you feel so little, so small. all count of restrain is lost as you shamelessly moan and cry out at his unrelentingly pounding, cheeks burning greatly as you give into his clear humiliation.

he's almost uncharacteristically grinning at your defeat, bending your leg inwards to your chest, almost bending you in half. you grip onto his forearm for purchase when you're unexpectedly cumming once more, vision going white when he doesn't even slow down.

his right hand comes down to squeeze at your doughy breast, noticing that it's lacking the milk you used to have a few months ago. no, that won't do.

"'gonna cum inside." he declares, his other hand coming down to lift the leg that is dangling off the table so as you get you into the perfect mating press. your eyes are widening bewilderedly at his words, a little shocked.

"b-but i'm not on birth control," you mutter out, but from the way he doesn't falter in his thrusts, it seems he already knows. yeah, of course he knows, he threw them away awhile ago. you don't need those silly pills anymore, you're his wife, your duty is to stay at home, raise his kids, and have as many kids as he pleases.

"t-toshi, utako is not even a year old–ah," you cry out, only to be silenced when ushijima is shoving his tongue back down your throat.

"you're my wife, don't you want my babies?" he asks, stilling his hips, his cock pulled out to the tip. he stares at you expectantly.

you're thinking for a few seconds, he doesn't assume anything in particular except of his cock. you're braindead like that, having nothing but a mommy brain after the last few times he's fucked you so well and good that he got you knocked up.

"..want toshi's babies.." you sob, throwing your head back when you're once again coming around his cock once he continued his thrusts at your words once more, your pussy sloshing lewdly with every movement.

yes, of course you want his babies. that's what you're made for. that's what your lovely existence is for, to cook him a good dinner and then spread your legs for him as dessert. whats a good woman if she doesn't submit to her husband?

he's grateful that you're a good woman, one that is so intelligent yet submissive to him. one that is letting him stuff you fill of his thick seed, letting her hard-working husband fill her yet again full with their third child.

it's just this that you're expected to give, you don't have to do much aside from look after the house and the children you produce, you can do whatever you want with the free time you have left, whether it's the beautiful paintings you create, or the horrendous amount of shopping you do with his credit card.

"i love you," he whispers softly against your ear, noting from the way your chest is rising slowly means that you passed out. dinner still hasn't been served, but thats okay. you've probably had a long day too.

౨ৎ please leave a like and repost with tags

[1000sunnygo]

Law's artist side isn't talked about enough, so here's a smooth brain ramble.

He prefers abstract arts over realism. Unlike Kid who forms animal or skull figures with metals, Law creates strange 'sculptures' with his victim's bodies/belongings:

And, of course, the tattoos.

I like how all of his tattoos accentuate the shapes of his torso and arms, especially the joints and muscles. Combined they look like a single stylized drawing of human upper torso.

Seen theories that the tribal style could be a lost trend from Flevance (as seen on the arm of a miner in his flashback), but it could just be his personal style. That said, his upper arm's heart tattoos look similar.

(Something that artists probably noticed long ago but I'm only noticing recently: Law's upper arm's tattoos have been simplified over time. There used to be two spiral-like protrusions, but Oda has been omitting them in later arts)

The "DEATH" tattoos have a straightforward message. According to the Law novel, these were his first tattoos.

Speaking of death, ghosts and spirituality have been implicitly a theme for Law, especially during Dressrosa. Doflamingo referred to Law as Cora's 'vengeful ghost'. Law's (cursed) sword Kikoku's name means 'wailings of a restless ghost". Ironically, Law having a hidden name was also a tradition that related to dead people.

The orange jolly roger (red in the sail) could be many things, I think it's a stylized way of drawing the sun.

Sun symbols are everywhere in the One Piece world. Law's lower arm tattoos are different types of 'suns'. Law might've subconsciously carried those symbols from his hometown for their aesthetic appeal.

The tattoos on the back of his hands reminded me of the church lady's cross, which is slightly different from the cross seen at Kuma's church. It's possible that various faiths in One Piece world are interconnected, leading to a prophecy about the sun god and Dawn. Law, at the very least, believes in the will of D and his own fate being tied to a purpose.

The chest tattoo, clearly a tribute to Corazon, could have some elements of catholicism. Kikoku also has crosses all over its sheath. Originally this wasn't my observation, but Law seeing Cora as a sacred being makes a lot of sense.

Carving a heart at the dead center of his chest by creating small wounds - the process itself reminds of Cora doesn't it

The custom-made Dressrosa coat is another tribute to Corazon, but IMHO he designed it specifically for Doflamingo, as a mockery.

A cross and circle like dangling a pistol target for Doflamingo's shooting practice, with a grinning face copied from Doflamingo's own jolly roger, but it's Corazon. Like his brother has returned to face his pistol again. A vengeful ghost indeed

And boy did it work...

Doflamingo shot it until the mark was completely drenched and unrecognizable.

Assuming he draws for all of his clothes himself, here's this masterpiece:

Or maybe it's gifted by his crew mates. Either way, it's adorable.

Since he's a surgeon (and a comic nerd), he should be skilled at drawing human anatomy. How does he draw realistic arts? Does he doodle while taking notes?

We've seen his handwriting in punk hazard arc and it wasn't particularly stylized. Regardless, it'd be nice to take a proper peek at his notebook.

[felikatze]

THE ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY: THE CRACK HEADCANON THAT RUINED ME FOREVER

HI. you might know me as the kingphie divorce guy. or as the guy who wrote the 6k ludonarrative essay. Today i am going to introduce to YOU @the-bitter-ocean's fantabulous ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY!!!

DISCLAIMER

This post contains SPOILERS for ALL of In Stars and Time. INCLUDING THE ACT 6 SECRET!!

You have been warned.

ALSO!!!!

The original headcanon/theory is VERY MUCH Ocean's fantastic work! I am merely rehashing all the arguments for it that have been laid out across various chats into one cohesive thing people can look at. Also citations! Who doesn't love those.

WHAT IS IT?

Well, it's quite simple. It's the theory that Euphrasie, love of my life and Head Housemaiden of Dormont, is from the forgotten island, same as Siffrin and the King.

(Yes, this is why divorce AU exists.)

WHY DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE THIS?

Quite a lot of reasons, actually.

It's really funny

Let us begin with: the basics.

SUPERFLOUS AESTHETIC DETAIL

HAIR COLOR

This is Euphrasie. She's very pretty. I love her.

You might notice several things about her, like her fantabulous white hair.

Well. What other characters have white hair?

You have guessed correctly. The ONLY OTHER white haired characters with actual artwork are Siffrin and the King, both from The Island The World Forgot. Thus we can assume that it's a typical hair color for islanders. Makes it stand out very much that Euphie also has it.

(What about the beautiful one- sh sh sh he's blonde. He's blonde.) (Well, actually, considering that they are the only one who acknowledges that Vaugardians are also weird, what if he's from the island as well? Checkmate atheists.)

EYELASHES

(EDIT!!!!! FINALLY PUTTING THIS ON THE MAIN POST!!!

Turns out I was incorrect in this. Some characters (Mira, Isa) also have eyelashes on SOME portraits. The mentioned chars r still notable for Always Having Em, + the Loop lashes are like, literally intended as plot twist foreshadowing, but, hey.

That's what you get for writing essays at 1am.

IN RETURN!!! Someone pointed out to me [i forgot who sorry] that Euphrasie's capelet.... has stars on it!! It's speckled like the starry sky!! Now isn't that a neat coinkydink.)

(Original text left up because I respect my past self's artistic vision. And his lunacy.)

Correct. Eyelashes.

Going back to our portrait of Euphie, she is drawn with precisely three eyelashes. Why is this notable? Because Siffrin and Loop are.

So much so, that being drawn with three eyelashes, is specifically an element of foreshadowing to Loop's true identity.

(squints at character portraits) literally no characters besides Siffrin, Loop, and Euphrasie have eyelashes? Oh my god. What? Nobody has eyelashes? What the fuck? (okay, some moments later: Mirabelle has eyelashes in some battle artwork, but these three are the only ones specifically with eyelashes in dialogue portraits, which is still incredibly odd.)

SPEAKING HABITS

(EDIT!!! Another Point that is Kind Of Off, in that other characters [e.g. Odile] also do this occasionally. Again, keeping the text for my creative vision.

In return I get to inform you that the King makes the "not so bright, Bright One" pun TWICE in different loops, thus implying the King likes puns. Take this as you will. That's been my psychic damage, buhbyeeee~)

Hey, so, you know when you talk to people in Dormont, a lot of the NPCS will have a nametag that just says "[something] One" right? Daydreaming One, Castle-Loving One, Beautiful One?

And I've seen people wonder, are these titles? Nicknames?

And I bring you this: Siffrin addresses these people with these epithets in his head, because they have no fucking clue what anyone's name is.

So Siffrin just naturally lapses into this style of nicknaming strangers.

Which two other people also do.

Bright one... ...... Do you remember? Traveling one! Are you done talking with your companions? Yes, wonderful, wonderful!

Funny little tidbit that these three characters all speak alike isn't it :)

Okay. With aesthetics out of the way, let's move onto the next tier of this iceberg:

THE MECHANICS OF FORGETTING AND BEING FORGOTTEN

I realize in the process of writing that we must outline the nature of the curse. What gets forgotten and what gets to stay?

The particularity that's important to us right now is: what people get forgotten?

All evidence points toward this: an entire person is only forgotten if they were physically present on the island when it vanished.

I'm pulling up two example cases to prove it: Siffrin and the Daydreaming One.

The thing with Siffrin is: we know he witnessed the exact moment the island vanished. And, very notably, Siffrin was in a boat.

You can get the dialogue that proves this only in ACT 2 in a secret room most people don't find on their first playthroughs, which is both very funny and very evil. Here's the dialogue.

Siffrin: "I ran away from home once!" [...] Siffrin: "And so I took our boat! Got to the beach, rowed away from the shore a bit. I was going to come back right away, I just wanted to scare my parents a bit!" [...]

Siffrin: "I started to row back towards the shore... And then, I... I... ..." Isabeau: ... Sif? Siffrin: (Woah! What?) "Um, yes?" Isabeau: Um... You were telling us how you ran away from home? Siffrin: "I... was?" Odile: You... Were. Bonnie: DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT WHILE TALKING ABOUT IT?!?

Siffrin is from the island, but was not physically present when it disappeared. This resulted in Siffrin forgetting their entire identity, including given name and spoken/written language.

Additionally, this is confirmed via Word of God to be the exact moment the island disappeared, so here's proof I'm not reading into it:

Shoutout to bibliomaniac's insane google spreadsheet for the easily searchable screenshot. god bless. Brinny, ily.

On the other hand, with the Daydreaming One, we have proof of a person who is not originally from the island, but was physically on it at the time of disappearance.

Siffrin: "Don't you have a sister?" Daydreaming One: I... I don't? I just said I'm an only child, silly!

(For her to forget someone like her sister, so easily... Her sister must've traveled to...)

Secondly, we know that remnants of the island were not completely forgotten immediately.

Memory faded gradually, starting with the ability to still speak and think about it with accompanying headaches, until it ramped up in intensity and everything is simply gone.

The Sparkling Diary in the library is more or less proof. Memory of the island was gone, but... people still remembered that they forgot something. People still knew what they were talking about, (an island north of Vaugarde), just without the specifics.

"Urgh. Also, Dad noticed no one can say the name of the island north of here anymore?" "I tried to say it yesterday and I got like the WEIRDEST headache for HOURS."

And Odile also remarks the following

Odile: We also know that people could remember that country clearly, before.

This will be relevant later. Moving on.

CONTRIVANCES

THE HOUSE'S OBSERVATORY

SO. The House of Change of Dormont has this funny little room on the third floor. It's an observatory. To look at stars with. When entering this room for the first time, Mirabelle says this:

Mirabelle: What...? Was there a room like this in the House? Y-yeah, I remember! Someone was working here... Studying... They looked like... ... Um... Sorry, I can't remember.

This reveals to us several things:

This room is innate to the House, and not brought here by the King's weird redecorating

Someone from the House was using it for study

All memory of who or what was studying and being studied was erased alongside the island's existence

Of course we can say, "yo, what if Euphrasie was using this room and just forgot?" but that is. a headcanon. I ADMIT! It is a stipulation

However, I find the general presence of the Island written all over the House incredibly interesting.

Inside the Observatory, there's a pile of papers with messy handwriting. You can't read these in until ACT 4. Even in ACT 4, you can't read them. But you do learn what's written on them.

(A pile of papers.) (It looks like someone was trying to write your country's name.)

Inside the observatory is also a globe. Upon repeated interaction in... act 4, i think, you get this:

(You see a spot on the globe where the paint has started wearing out, like someone kept dragging their finger on it.) (You drag your finger there too.) (Erased. You almost want to look for lightless paint.)

BOOKS

During the various quests to discover the truth of the loops, you run into a lot of books, written in the forgotten language. Now, Dormont is not close to the island. Dormont is not close to the coast.

Bambouche is. That's why Bonnie has heard about the island before and knows it was a big deal - they lived really close to it.

Bonnie (and then1): I think, I think my village was really close to it!!! My sister said it was all everyone could talk about for weeks!!! Mirabelle (anxious1): That's so frightening... I'm glad that whatever happened, she didn't get caught up in it!

As we can see in this map, Dormont is in the southern half of the country, and very centrally at that, meaning it has basically maximum distance from all waters and ports. So why does this landlocked small town have so many books in this language?

These aren't just dry books, either. In Dormont's library, there's actually a translated version of volume 2 of The Cursing of Chateau Castle.

(You take the book out again.) (You can read its title, now...) (Your heart is beating, badump, badump, badump.) (It's...) (... A translated copy of "The Cursing of Château Castle", issue #2.) (You start laughing.)

CONCLUSION OF THIS SECTION

Islanders lived in Dormont. Maybe even multiple! We've established that whoever is in Dormont when it vanished would not simply disapper, instead

they forgot where they're from.

One day, the islanders in Dormont could no longer remember being anywhere but Dormont. Being anything but Vaugardian. The observatory fell into disuse, as the person studying there gradually forgot what they used it for, even as they desparately tried to hold onto it, boring holes into the globe, and scribbling its name over and over until its unintelligible.

And, in all likelihood, eventually that knowledge was just gone forever. They simply became part of Dormont, none the wiser to their own history.

Books slipped into cracks. Rooms fell into disuse. Nobody remembered to clean out the remnants.

Now. The real cinch of this.

Why, in particular, do I think Euphrasie is one of them?

Answer me this, then.

How does Euphie know what Wish Craft is?

1. How could she read it?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft exists, when all books on it are written in a language nobody can read.

The book in the storage room? The diary in the room behind the star door? The book in the secret library? None of them are legible.

There are no legible records of Wish Craft.

2. What about the Favor Tree?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft is related to the Favor Tree. It's also a Vaugardian practice to make requests of the Favor Tree, but they're just that - requests. Nobody thinks they actually have power.

Only Euphrasie does. She thinks it's the key to defeating the King.

(This is... A list of people who wished to save Vaugarde!!!) (You look around her desk, trying to find out more.) (Why would she record the people who wished to save Vaugarde?) (... There!!!) (It's a little notebook, jammed between random boring paperwork...) (In it, the Head Housemaiden talks about Wish Craft... How in the days before the King attacked, she noticed everyone was wishing to the Favor Tree for the same thing:) (To save Vaugarde.) (And she started wondering if this wish could be the key to the King's defeat, somehow...) (So the Head Housemaiden knew about Wish Craft!!!)

Except, when Isabeau talks about it...

Isabeau: Well, it's just a random big tree. But when you're a believer of the House of Change, the biggest tree in a certain place is called a Favor Tree! It's like, it’s the tree with the most power, so you can ask it things? As a favor?

He struggles a little to explain it. Almost, as though the tradition came from some other culture, imported into Vaugarde, and no one can definetely remember where it came from.

To note, here, is that the Favor Tree is hugely associated with Loop, and wishes in general. Wishing on a Favor Tree is such a hugely powerful ritual when executed correctly, that it caused the entire timeloops.

And I'm not even gonna break out citations to prove that Wish Craft is associated with the island. Come on. You know that. You played the game. It's required to beat the game.

If you haven't beaten the game, what the fuck are you doing here. Go back and play it, baka.

3. Something's breaking, failing, rotting

At the end of ACT 4, when Siffrin confronts Euphrasie about her knowledge of Wish Craft, Euphrasie is distinctly aware of this: the people of Vaugarde are wishing wrong.

It's true. All of Vaugarde wished to the Favor Tree, wished for us to be saved. We wished for a savior. A way for us to win against the King. And Wish Craft gave us the means to do it, didn't it? Made sure it'd work? [...] But... But something went wrong, didn't it? Something goes wrong, every time!!! [...] The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong. I don't know what happened But we must've done it wrong!!! None of us in Vaugarde knew the exact ritual, but-- But we must have done it so wrong, it broke, and it doesn't answer to us at all anymore!!! [...] I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!!!

There's only one person who knew how to make a Wish correctly. And he made it by sheer instinct. Something they could not place even if they tried. Just... a forgotten ritual, dredged back up by muscle memory. Something he's probably been doing since he's a little kid, something that's so backed into their habits they use Wish Craft to carve figurines out of wood.

To end, I leave you with this. Dialogue you get when you try to talk to Euphrasie again, before you talked to everybody else.

If you talk to me... REALLY talk to me... It's all over. What "it" is, I have no idea... I know... I can feel that... I couldn't change whatever comes next, even if I wanted to. But I know it is the will of the Change God. Or, no, perhaps... The will of something even bigger... ... Something will end, once you talk to me.

There is a way for Euphrasie to know all of this. To know Wish Craft exists, to be aware she's doing it wrong, but not knowing, remembering quite enough to get it right.

If she knew it all beforehand already.

[adventuringblind]

Entitled To You (3.6K words)

Norstaptri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: An incident with Lance sends the boys into a frenzy. She just wants to do what she loves.

Warnings: Explicit depictions of r@pe, injury descriptions, panic attacks, Oscar plots a murder, Lando throws hands, Car crashes, Author doesn't know legal stuff, Head trauma and blood.

Notes: This one is a request from @Lily234566 I know this wasn't the original pairing but I was struggling to fit the Ferrari boys in there so I had to scale it back... I'm sorry and I hope you still like it! T_T

Side Note: Sorry to the Lance girlies reading this. AND obligatory message of I don't know these people and this is purely FICTION! HEAD THE TAGS! DONT LIKE THEN DONT READ!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

“Max!” She peeks her head into his driver's room. The bright beaming smile she receives in return after their 1-2 nearly kills her. “They want me for a media thing, apparently.” HIs smile drops into a pout. The sad puppy eyes might convince her to stay. 

“Again? Don’t they know we have plans!

“No, and why would they care anyway?” She looks him up and down and whines because he’s standing in front of her with no shirt on. “Just - I’ll meet you guys back at the room. It’s something to do with being a female in F1… again.”

“I’m starting to think they have nothing else to talk about.” 

She shrugs as she walks out of the hospitality, waving to Christian on her way by. The goal is to get past the Mclaren garage without seeing Lando because otherwise she is not going to the interview. His pout is worse (better?) than Max’s. 

To her pleasant surprise, Laura is the one conducting the interview. “I’m sorry about this being last minute! They said they wanted you to do it with someone else next week and I offered to do it now.” 

The interview passes with ease and thankfully doesn’t take long at all. The banter in-between is also entertaining. 

She’s exhausted when they finish. Ready to go back to the hotel and fall into bed with her boys. Hopefully They’ve ordered food - and dessert. 

The paddock is nearly empty as she makes her way through. Maybe, had she been paying more attention and not focussed on her aching body, she would’ve caught on to the footsteps behind her. 

They are heavy, she assumes possibly a mechanic still packing up to continue on their way to the next circuit. That’s what she still thinks when the hand on her bicep yanks her around the corner. 

If she weren’t as exhausted, then fighting would’ve been a possibility. However, that seems out of the cards as he pins her against the nearest wall. Her forehead hitting the surface hard enough to make her dizzy. 

“Not so confident now, huh?” 

The fuck- “Lance? What are you?-” He slams her head again and cages her body against his own. She flails, only to be slammed again. “Would you stop doing that please?” 

“Not after that stupid stunt you pulled today on track.”

“You mean the one where you showed you don’t know what brakes are?-” Again, her head is sent into the hard surface. She can feel her nose starting to bleed. “Must you?!” She decided to shut up when he does it again and everything starts to go fuzzy. 

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of her fireproofs. The cold evening air hits her bare skin and she panics more than before. Her head is too cloudy to fully comprehend what’s happening. 

“I feel like I'm entitled to a bit of compensation after that stunt.” 

“You’re entitled to nothing. You took yourself out!” She hisses through gritted teeth. Still, Lance continues to get her clothes lower. And slams her head again harder - you know - because she wasn’t disoriented enough already.

“Would you shut up?” She doesn’t say anything this time. Her mouth feels numb and her ears are ringing. Her exposed lower half is met with the bare hands of someone she doesn't want touching her. 

It's - well - it hurts. He's groping at her thighs, ass, even her tits which she isn't sure how he's managing. His hands are everywhere they shouldn't be. 

And then nothing. 

A vague awareness of what's happening seeps through her veins and invades her senses. She tries to scream. Attempts despite the sheer pain of the snap of hips she didn't ask for. 

His finger beat her to it. A hand encloses around her throat and cuts off her oxygen. The black spots dance around her vision. She wants them to stop moving; they are making her dizzy. Or was she already dizzy? 

“See, it's not so bad. Don't you feel less guilty for ruining my race now?” No, she doesn't. She wasn't guilty before. 

She blacks out. 

~~~♡~~~

Waking up with sore limbs and a killer headache is not how she pictured this night going. She tries to yell for help, but a mere creaky rasp escapes. 

When did she lose her voice? The thought makes her panic more. The sob she lets out hurts more than there is sound. 

Her face and hair is sticky. At least Lance had done her the courtesy of not finishing inside of her. 

Still - what the fuck even happened? The fragmented memory is trying to come back to her slowly. Each small piece remembered is another broken cry. 

She can't move. 

It's dark again. 

~~~♡~~~

The anxiety between the three boys is certainly not something they are used to. Oscar can pinpoint the exact moment Lando started overthinking and Max had to bear hug him so he didn't pace a hole into the cement of the parking lot. 

The fourth seat in their car remains empty and their messages have gone unanswered. It's getting more concerning with each passing minute. 

“Max, she always responds.” 

“I know Lando.” 

“She always calls if she's going to be longer.” 

“Lando?”

“Yes?”

“Would you feel better if we went and looked around for her?” 

The Brit nods his head in a fashion that might give him whiplash. It's better seeing him feel helpful then sit helplessly. Though Oscar can't help but agree with Max's original point. that they should wait there at the car just in case since that's where they were supposed to meet. 

Granted, it's only been twenty minutes. It's still long enough to be murdered. 

They Methodically peer around corners and wave at the mechanics who give them skeptical looks. They were supposed to be out for post race celebrations by now. 

Oscar freezes when he sees it. The human shaped lump lying on the ground. He rushes over with long strides. The closer he gets, the more familiar the person on the ground becomes. 

“Max! Lando! I found her!” The other two boys come sprinting in his direction. He's on the ground trying to clear her hair from her face only for it to get stuck in the sticky substance coating her features. 

“What the fuck?” 

Her fireproofs are still on, but it's obvious what happened. The handprints on her neck, the blood trickling down the sides of her face. “We need to bring her to a hospital.” 

Max hoists her up in his arms. Mainly because Lando is on the brink of tears and struggling to breathe through his panic. He loves deeply and with his heart on his sleeve. Oscar just hopes he can keep the Brit calm until they find more help. 

“Can we at least clean her up?” Lando pleads with him. Big Hazel eyes brimming with tears. 

It's always a struggle to tell him no. “We can't, not if it can help us figure out who did it.” The tears start right after that. 

“So that’s what happened then? Someone really-” Oscar has to maneuver the puddle of tears that is his boyfriend into the passenger seat of their rental car. Max tosses him the keys, opting to be with her in the back and keep her comfortable. 

The tricky drive to emergency is more because Oscar is too far in his own thoughts to pay attention to the traffic lights. He can hear Max moving her around, attempting to put pressure where blood still flows freely. 

Oscar doesn’t bother with parking. He pulls off into some empty area and helps Max shoulder her weight inside the doors while Lando runs ahead to find help. 

It’s fast after that. They take her away and start patching her up while the three of them are forced to sit in the waiting room. Oscar and Lando are left to their own devices while Max paces about on the phone with Christian. 

He feels like a knife is being driven through his chest each time his mind tries to come up with what could’ve happened. Who would do something like this? Unfortunately, a lot of people. The question is more of who could’ve done it and gotten away. Someone with access to the paddock this late. Security, perhaps? Maybe even a sleazy mechanic? A driver wouldn’t make any sense… right?

“When will they let us see her?”

“When she wakes up, most likely.”

He’s not sure when he falls asleep. The exhaustion finally hit him like a truck despite his persistence. He’s awoken by Max’s constant shaking and aggressive whispering of his name. 

“-She’s asking for us.” 

He’s up faster than Lando when Jon threatens an ice bath. They follow the nurse down the halls with an uneasy anticipation. They creep inside the sterile room and find her staring at the wall. 

Lando doesn’t hesitate to move further into the room. Always having been more in touch with his emotions then the other two boys. “Hey love, can I come closer?” 

She looks at him. The bandages plastered over the sides of her head and around her face now visible to them. She returns Lando’s gaze with glassy eyes. It’s damn near shocking when she tries to pull things off her body in a desperate attempt to reach for Lando. 

Lando gets to her before she can get everything off, specifically the IV, and catch her arms. Oscar and Max finally pull themselves together and manage to get her to lay back down with some coaxing. 

She’s shaking violently. Her grip on Lando’s arm is sure to leave bruises. “Who - who f-found me?”  

“We did, schat. We got worried when you didn’t respond.” Max drags the two chairs in the room closer and pulls Oscar down into one.  Lando, against all odds, manages to wriggle his way into bed with her. 

“I know who it was. I - well - does anyone else know?” 

“Just Christian and us.” Oscar can feel the fight Max is putting up to not ask her more questions. The way he’s grounding himself with a hand on Oscars knee instead. 

“You don’t have to tell us.” He attempts to reassure. Maybe calm her mind by giving her an option. “Just know we’re here, alright?” 

“I don’t want it to be a big story. It’s already going to be since I can’t be in the car for the next four weeks. Oh fuck - everyone is gonna know-” Lando hushes her; gets her to somehow hold him tighter.

“Christian said it’s up to you, whatever happens.” Max nods at her encouragingly. “We go at your pace.” 

“They did a rape kit. They’ll know who it is. It was all over so it couldn’t have been hard to get DNA - oh fuck” 

Her heart rate picks up. The nurses rush in. They send her back to sleep. 

~~~♡~~~

Max wants to know who it was who touched her. The rage simmering underneath her skin is almost too much to keep contained. 

On the more fortunate side, they were allowed to stay since she wouldn’t let go of Lando. Then when he did have to get up, they rotated. 

The doctors and nurses learned to approach her like she’s a scared animal. The heavy footsteps seem to set her off and there is now a sticky note on the door saying to tiptoe when entering. It’s endearing to see her doctors and nurses trying so hard not to startle her. But seeing as they’ve now had several incidents where she’s panicked, they are taking more caution. 

Oscar and Lando have meandered away in search of food. Max opted to stay put and made the promise to bring him back cheat foods. He’s too stressed to not eat something of comfort. 

Her physio is supposed to come by today with the stuff she left at the track and get an update from the doctors themselves instead of Max’s botched attempts at repeating back. It will also be nice to see her comfortable, as the one blanket that travels with her everywhere will also be dropped off. 

“Max?” He tightens his hold to show he’s listening. “It’s not fair… You, Lando, and Oscar make a mistake on track and nobody does that to you. I - It wasn’t my fault.” 

The thing is, Max is smarter than people give him credit for. The only incident on track was with Lance. An incident that was his own fault. “He’s at fault, not you. None of this is your fault.”

“They are going to say I was asking for it or something.” 

“In those fireproofs? The only ones asking for it are me and Oscar… for obvious reasons.” He chuckles proudly at his little self compliment. 

It also manages to get her to crack something of a half smile. “Are you complimenting your own ass?” 

“And what if I am?” 

She doesn’t eat anything despite it being sat in front of her. Soft foods are the only thing she’ll be eating. Her throat, albeit not as bad as it could've been (thank you F1), is still damaged and needs to rest as much as possible. 

They had to keep her for observation due to where the head wounds had been. It’s been a rough thirty-six hours, but they are managing.

Despite the hectic situation, Max has come to learn that the female lying in the hospital bed is a better person then the rest of them. Oscar was detailing a full proof murder plan while she was telling him not to make it a bigger deal then it is. To which Oscar politely put his ten step plan with four contingencies down and told her that it’s ‘what he had coming to him’. 

Max has not had to stop someone from assassinating a rival before, but Oscar seems like a reasonable guy. “Death is too good for him.” 

“Mm, you’re right, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t die then and can’t see my face.” 

“Or, we make his life a series of inconveniences! I feel like daddy’s money could get him good therapy. It can’t solve every minor problem.” Lando has a gleam in his eyes. 

Him and Oscar start pouring over ideas once more. The girl simply shakes her head and goes back to eyeing her pudding like it’s assaulted her. “I don’t want to leave here, Max.”

“Why not? I’d assume you want to go home? Sleep in a comfortable bed?”

“Out there, they can get to us. Here is safe.” 

He considers how to reassure her. Only, there is nothing he can think of. The truth is that outside of this hospital room, there is no guarantee they won’t run into trouble. 

“I can’t promise that we'll never have something bad happen again. But-” He looks to the McLaren duo brainstorming ways to make the Aston Martin garage regret existing. “We’ll be there for each other. We’re here for you. When you want us and when you need us, yes?” 

“Pinky swear?” She extends her pink to him. 

Max accepts and curls his pinks around hers. “Pinky swear.” 

~~~♡~~~

It’s not fair really, that they had to leave to go do things. Lando would prefer he at least stayed with her so she isn’t alone. Alas, they are preparing for her discharge and he had to run around getting things together for their trip back to Monaco.

He comes back to a partially opened door and smiles at the other two boys being able to get back before him. Then again, as he gets closer he can hear the angry tone. One that Max uses when he’s pissed off about something. 

Lando panics and rushes inside. Only to be met with the sight of the last person he wants around right now. 

Now - he wouldn’t say he’s prone to violence. Lando prefers to keep the peace when it comes to conflict unless he’s trying to piss someone off on purpose to get a reaction. This is not one of those times. 

Lando’s knuckles collide with the Canadian’s jaw faster than he can fully become aware of what he’s doing. Lance stumbles backward and holds his jaw, glaring at Lando like he’s the one in the wrong here. 

“Get out!” 

“We were just talking-” 

“I said. Get. Out.” He’s seething. The thudding in his chest becoming louder with each second Lance remains in this room. 

He’s not prone to violence. 

Really, he’s not. 

Yet the second crack of knuckles into Lance's chin gives him some sick satisfaction. Isn’t there something about equilibrium? Can he pin this on restoring the balance or something? Regardless, he isn’t going to dent the fact that it feels good. 

The nurses come running and start asking questions. Max and Oscar have to drag Lando away kicking and screaming. 

Worse is when they try to tell him that there are pictures out on social media. Christian has been calling Max non-stop. Oscar has been dealing with Zak. Their relationship isn’t a secret and neither is their current location.  

“They're sending us a different car to see if we can’t get out discreetly.” 

“What happened with Lance, Lan? Are you alright?”

Everyone is panting. Their eyes trained on the door. “I punched him. I restored the equal-brey-um… thing.” 

“Equilibrium.” 

“Yeah that!” 

He’s not sure how they get on the plane. He’s still amped up about the whole punching thing and running purely off adrenaline. 

They’ve been sitting in silence, mulling over their options. Creating statements they can put out. It’s hectic and they keep trashing them because nothing fits. 

The female has been apathetic. The last thing she wanted was for this to get out and now it has. Seemingly everything is flashing before her eyes. Her career will be gone soon enough, so what’s even the point? 

“Don’t post anything. We don’t have an obligation to confirm or deny the rumors. If anything, we can say that you were just driving me to the hospital and being good friends or whatever.” She won’t look at them. Still - Lando can hear how upset she is, the waiver in her voice. “I’m going to be kicked out anyway.” 

“Christian said-”

“Damn what Christian said! He knows this isn’t going to get any better and if I say who it was then Daddy’s Money is just going to pay his way through.” She's hyperventilating now. Her body collapses against her seat and Oscar makes an effort to get her to lean against him. “It’s not fair!”

lando Can’t help but share her feelings.

~~~♡~~~

She stays holed up in the Redbull garage the next weekend. The appearance is hard, people want to ask her questions. Her boys had been caught in the middle of the riptide and haven’t come back to shore yet. 

At least she’s here. She’s trying her hardest to look stronger than she is. On the inside things are falling apart. 

The team knows to give her space and not ask about the ordeal. She takes refuge in Max’s room when things are too much and the other drivers keep their distance. 

They know it was one of them. She’d been adamant on not saying who it was, but it’s obvious there are sixteen who it could have been, given her partners insistence that none of them go near her garage for the time being.  

She just wants this whole thing to blow over. She wants to lay in bed with her lovers and not flinch when they go to touch her. 

She knows, however, that until she deals with things that healing can’t happen like it should. Or at least, that’s what her therapist says. The one she is now required to see. 

Things get worse when she’s back in the car. Her media duties are limited so she can focus on driving and ‘listening to her body’ as her physio likes to say. 

She can’t hear her body over the sound of her mind going staticy as Lance closes in on her. The catalyst for everything. She panics and ends up in the wall. Not the worst crash ever, but certainly hurts her pride more than it has already.

The thing is, it keeps happening. Even as she’s able to let her boys back in. As her podium finishes start to come back. Her fireproofs (which they’d gotten her all new ones) start to feel comfortable again and she doesn’t feel the need to be out of them the second the race is done. Still, Lance is using this to his advantage. 

Finally, after he almost killed her on track (again), she’s had enough.

The trial goes better than she thought it would. Despite the money differences, Lance won’t be able to race anymore. It’s not some grand spectacle either, just an announcement like usual. It’s more the closure she needed versus the publicized drama it could have been. 

She wins the next race. 

“If I ever see him again, it will be too soon.” 

“It’s been over a year now, Lan. I’m getting better.” There is a genuine smile on her face. The car awaits to take them back to the hotel. It was here that it happened. She almost considered not racing because of it.

“Lando got a taste of blood and now he’s feinding for it.” Max has a comforting hand around her waist. A grounding presence. 

“I mean, I never threw away my murder plot…” 

“You’re a genius Oscar!”

She shakes her head. It’s not like any of this has been easy. It never is. Still - her boys are here and they’ve been so patient. 

“There’s her smile.” They all beam at her. 

She smiles back.

[secretly-tumb1r]

Roadtrip - hotch x reader

summary: when hotch finally sheds his stubbornness, he decides to drive back to Quantico from New York, in an attempt to rest his punctured eardrum. You couldn’t leave him without company, so you join him.

Warning: 18+ MDNI, making out, alcohol usage

A/n: first hotch fic hope you love it!! Also i cant exactly remember the dialogue between hotch and prentiss at the start forgive me😭. Enjoy lovelies💞

masterlist

(gif not mine all credits to original creator <3)

“Here, for your flight back.” Hotch hands the platter of baked goods to Agent Prentiss.

“What, you aren’t coming with us?” Her eyebrow cocks up in curiosity. “No, I really shouldn’t be flying” He shakes his head. “are you sure? it’s a 7 hour ride back to Quantico” Rossi asks, words chosen carefully. Hotch looks down. “I’ve taken that road before, you’ll see loads of country, beautiful scenery, maybe you should extend your trip a day or two.” Hotch easily picks up what he was putting down, suggesting he should take a rest. “Thank you” “Take all the time you need” Rossi nods at him and gets in the black SUV.

“Hey.. care for some company?” you smile brightly at Aaron and surprisingly, he returns the gesture. “Sure why not, hop in,” his eyes twinkle with happiness at the thought of you two on a roadtrip alone, maybe even in a hotel room. You cheerfully make your way to the passenger door, waving a quick goodbye to the rest of your team.

“Well.. we all know what’s gonna happen in the one day Hotch and y/n will take off” Morgan teases. “I don’t wanna think about it..” Reid grimaces at the thought, earning a laugh from the rest.

—————————————————————————

You had been on the road for quite some time yet. The sky was darkening and you were engulfed by silence bar the quiet radio playing in the background. Your eyes dared to close as your head fell down as sleep was consuming you. Work lately was.. exhausting. Aarons eyes shifted slightly from the road to your tired physique and his heart nearly broke. Seeing you so tired, he made his mind up to pull over at the nearest hotel.

It wasn’t for another 2 miles that his car finally stopped, and you were awakened from your slumber by a soft voice. “y/n” he gently patted your shoulder, “cmon wake up, we’re at a hotel” you stirred in your sleep “mm 5 more minutes” you practically moaned and leaned into his touch. His mouth went dry, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as a he took a big gulp. “y/n, wake up” he said a bit sterner. Your eyes shot open at the familiar voice, embarrassment filling your body. “Sorry! sorry i’m up.” you try to look as awake as possible. “cmon let’s go in we’re both tired”.

Hotch was normally so.. stoic. His face blurred of any emotion except seriousness. You were pretty sure in the one year you had worked at the BAU, you’d never seen him smile. That was awake Hotch, sleepy hotch was merely the opposite. It looked like all attempts to contain human emotion were discarded a few hours back. Sleepy Hotch was more.. human like, it was refreshing seeming him emit feelings like the rest of us mortals.

“I’m sorry sir, we only have one available room right now.” Hotch’s gaze didn’t shift off the guy at the till. “It’s fine. We’ll take that please.” he hands him his credit card. “Are you sure? There’s only one bed in that room” Your breath hitched. You’d either be sharing the bed or one of you would have to sleep on the floor, which you assumed Hotch would take it upon himself to take his place on the floor. “Yeah it’s fine we’ll work something out” he sighs deeply and shoves his hands down his pockets.

Aaron tried to keep his composure at the thought of you two sharing a bed. Of course he knew it wouldn’t happen, he’d have to sleep on the floor, but the thought of it suddenly made him wide awake.

When you made it to the room you realised you had no change to sleep in, so you discarded your pants and bra and pulled your button up shirt that reached your mid thighs down. Stepping out the bathroom while tying your hair up in a low bun, Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. You were radiating. Even tired and only in a shirt you still managed to look exquisite. His eyes hungrily scanned your body stopping at your exposed thighs, arousal building up inside him. He did his best to look you in the eye as he stared in silence.

“Like what you see boss?” You teased, your eyebrows lifting suggestively. “uh- “ he gulped hard. “i’m gonna go uhm- yeah”. He disappeared in the bathroom. Splashing some cold water on his face, he took his tie, belt and button up shirt off, leaving him in his pants and a undershirt he appeared to wear under his shirt. When he stepped out, you had to keep yourself from salivating. His biceps looked incredibly big, and his pants fit him perfectly. You bit down on your bottom lip, a gesture you only did when you were excited. Hotch knew that. His confidence building back up inside him as he repeated your previous words.

“Like what you see” and he suggestively raised his eyebrows like you did just moments ago. “uh- i- “ He laughed brightly, which took you by surprise because untill a few moments ago, you hadn’t even seen him smile before. Your shoulders relaxed as you slumped down on the bed. “so i’ll uhm- take the floor” he began to say. You quickly interrupted him. “cmon boss, don’t be like that, it’s only one night. I promise i’ll keep my distance” His mouth twitched into a smile, and his heart grew. He didn’t think you’d suggest sharing a bed, but he was glad you did. He joined you in bed, heart beating so hard he thought it would jump out his chest.

You couldn’t help but feel giddy, like a highschool kid with her first crush. His presence was so hard to ignore, and your body moved before your mind as you turned to your side to face him. He was laying on his back looking up at the ceiling, he looked so beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire his features. His dark eyebrows, and even darker eyes, his high cheekbones and his big nose. Something about big noses excited something in you. You had no idea why.

Hotch turned his head to look at you, his eyes scanning your body. Your hands were pressed under the side of your head, and your leg was slightly bent, showing the curve of your ass. He felt his pants tighten as he abruptly got up, walking to the mini bar.

“Would you care for a drink?” You lifted yourself on your elbows to look at him. “Sure why not”. One drink turned into two and two turned into too many, and quickly you were laughing and telling eachother embarrassing childhood stories.

“No i’m not even lying! I licked his teeth!” you said as you teasingly pushed his arm. Hotch, between laughs, said “Your first kiss, and you licked his teeth?” He collapsed on the bed laughing. “What can i say i wasnt the best kisser”. Suddenly, he stopped laughing, his eyes filling with lust.

“Are you still bad at kissing?” His dark eyes bore into yours as you softly said “yes” picking up what he was putting down. “Why don’t you show me and i’ll give you some pointers.” His hand met your cheek, grazing it gently, as he pulled you in, his lips crashing onto yours. He tasted like alcohol and sweetness, intoxicating. His cologne filled your nostrils as you shifted your legs to straddle him, both of your thighs pressed against his ribs, as he cupped your face and tilted your head back, deepening the kiss. His hand moved to your thighs, kneading the soft skin making you gasp. He took the opportunity of you opening your mouth more to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His soft tongue dancing in a slow rhythm with your own. He moved both of his hands to your thighs gripping them tightly as your hands make their way to his hair, pulling it.

Your mouths moved in tandem and unity, a pace that was so calming yet so awakening. You had never felt this way before, and now that you had, you never wanted to back to feeling how you used to.

first part what do y’all thinkkkk?? i know this isn’t very “erotic” but i js needed to see if you guys would like it. Lmk if you do and i’ll post a very very spicy part 2 lovelies. LOVE YOU ALL MWWWAHHHH kisses xoxo💞

[saeist]

itoshi brothers reaction to their little sister wearing a different jersey and supporting someone else 😭

anon ur mind… should i make this into a series 😭 100 milestone special

can you imagine the reaction of both brothers when they see you lounging around the house with a jersey that’s not from their respective teams?

sae never misses the chance to give you a jersey from his matches. he always makes sures to get two of the same jerseys no matter what. sae would never admit this though. when he gives you his jerseys, he just tells you it’s an old one but it’s a lie. he has his own sitting in his luggage, gym bag, you name it, it’s there. he personally got one for you cause you were his sister after all

rin on the other hand is the same but he only gives you hand me downs such as the blue lock one. if rin grows out of a jersey, you bet that said jersey will end up in your hands

so just imagine the look on their faces when you’re lounging at the couch, wearing a jersey from a team they’re not even in on.

sae is visibly pissed. you can tell by the way his eyes are more narrowed than usual and has his infamous bitch face on that he only makes when there were press around him.

rin is not as pissed like sae but he’s just wondering who owns that jersey. he only gets mad when he tries to connect the dots or something and ended up assuming isagi or someone from blue lock gave it to you behind his back (he already had a talk with his blue lock mates that they should not breathe, touch, or be even in the vicinity as you when you’re around or they’re gonna get “it” from him)

both brothers sit at each side of you and you can tell the atmosphere in the living room has shifted. i mean, it’s not like you’re used to it at this point but, what gives bros?

sae scans you from the bottom to the top with a face you can’t quite pinpoint. was he mad? was he disgusted? what’s he thinking? you can’t tell. you turn your head to rin for some help but he had the same face on.

was there something on your face?

“if you guys are just gonna be breathing heavily next to me and not say a word then i’m just gonna leave” you raise a brow at your two (idiotic) brothers. to which they only reply with them clicking their tongues and some grumbles under their breaths.

sae was the first one to break the ice

“who’s jersey is that?” sae frowns. like a deep frown. was this mf really THAT petty over a jersey?

you looked down at the shirt you were wearing and it was from bastard münchen.

“oh, it’s bastard münchen merch. this is kaiser’s jersey if i’m not mistaken” you explain, even turning around to show sae the number on your back. when you return back to your original position, sae looked like you just dropped the biggest bomb on him and he didn’t like it one bit. he instantly gets all over your face, basically interrogating you on why you would waste the hard earned money he gave you to buy another jersey that isn’t from real madrid (hc that he gives you allowance 😋)

“why the fuck would you even buy from bastard münchen? is real madrid’s merchandise not enough? is the quality shit? hold on, i’m gonna have to tell the managers about this. just why y/n. WHY”

sae almost goes into a complete mental breakdown. over you wearing some team’s merch instead of his own team, real madrid

“and it had to be kaiser’s number too”

“what’s so bad with kaiser?”

sae doesn’t answer directly but continues to bitch about kaiser and bastard münchen specifically. mumbling about something you can’t quite understand

you look at your other brother, rin. just to like check if you two were looking at the same thing, sae literally pacing around the living room with his arms crossed and his hands rolled up into a fists but all you see is rin concentrating really hard that was outright sweating and you can see prominent veins on the sides of his head

“that damn isagi…” you hear rin murmur beside you. oh hell nah, not rin too.

“rin-nii..?”

“have you been talking to isagi? how do you even know about bastard münchen? does this mean you’ve been talking to isagi behind my back? why didn’t you buy pxg’s instead?”

another set of questions (more like interrogation) comes rolling in.

at this point you are already feeling like you’re going insane with your brothers acting like it was the end of the world.

“guys.. i literally watch blue lock tv. of course i fucking know about bastard münchen!” you curse

both brothers stop their idiocy and both turn to you with stern faces, together they go,

“NO FUCKING CURSING”

[descendant-of-truth]

Sooo has anyone else noticed that Chaos Sonic seems to know things about Sonic that he logically shouldn't?

He constantly brings up Sonic's failures, describes him as looking "sad and pathetic" and being "tragic" when Sonic doesn't even look upset, and seems to have inherited chili dogs as his favorite food to boot.

But the Chaos Council doesn't know about Sonic's biggest failures. They don't know that he feels sad about anything, or that he likes chili dogs. Not even Nine knows these things in detail, and even if he did, we're not given any indication that he told the Council anything after giving them the initial idea for Chaos Sonic by accident.

And yet, he takes every opportunity to poke at Sonic's insecurities, even targeting his friends and blaming him for getting them hurt.

How does he know Sonic well enough to make these kinds of targeted remarks? I like that he can, it leads to a lot more interesting interactions than if he couldn't, but what's the in-universe explanation?

Well, Sonic absorbed some of the Prism's energy when it shattered, and Chaos Sonic was created mostly with the energy from the shards. While this could give them a sort of mental connection, it doesn't seem to go both ways, and I have a slightly more specific theory for how it all works.

That being: I think the Prism itself knows Sonic. Which is kind of a bold claim, I think, but hear me out.

First of all, the energy that's in Sonic's body (once tempered with Nine's tech of course) adapts his gloves and shoes to his environment in ways that'll protect him. New Yoke doesn't require anything special, but the Boscage Maze has tall trees that are difficult to climb, so it gives him retractable claws. No Place is filled with water, and Sonic can't swim, so he gets hover shoes to keep him afloat even if he falls in.

That's a suspicious amount of intent going on there, isn't it? And they appear the instant Sonic enters a new world, so he doesn't even encounter the obstacles his clothes are protecting him from before getting them. It's like the energy already knows what the world is like and what Sonic's capabilities are.

Secondly, Shadow reacts physically to the giant sparkly specter of Tails that shows up in the void, which tells me that those are all Actual Things that the Prism conjured up.

And that's. kind of weird, right? I just assumed these were symbolic of memories flashing through Sonic's head, but I guess they're also flashing through space itself, which I will admit did get a laugh out of me the first time I watched it

(They might not be "memories" exactly since we never flashback to when these lines were originally said, but they're certainly Something that came from Sonic's head so my point still stands)

Finally, when the Chaos Council uses the Prism energy to make the Giant Eggman, it specifically takes the form of the original. That didn't come from Mister Doctor's imagination - that's how Sonic remembers Eggman.

Not to mention, they keep hammering home how uniquely linked Sonic is to the Prism, so why not have it be the other way around? I'm not saying that the Paradox Prism has to have any kind of sentience for this theory to work (in fact I'd be surprised if it did), but it could be acting as a sort of container for data on Sonic, just like how Sonic is a container for its power.

And if that's the case, then it explains how Chaos Sonic knew so much; he's tapped into that very data bank from the get-go. It also complicates the question of how to restore the Prism a bit, because yeah Sonic might have to put his energy back into it, but does the Prism have to give anything back to him in return?

Regardless of the answer, I'm really looking forward to learning more about how the Paradox Prism works (and also any potential future Chaos Sonic appearances because I loved every moment he was on screen)

[mohntilyet]

literally cannot remember if this is already a post you made but do u think about if illario was a companion character and lucanis wasnt (maybe still rescued from the ossuary, maybe not). would he even be a viable companion character. etc.

i think i've mentioned it in tags but god yeah i've been thinking about companion illario. through bias and visions i think he could have made a really great companion!!!! i just don’t think we had enough who lie to/betray you in veilguard and i was like illario would love to do this <3 or at least TRY to do this and find that he can’t, because the betrayal-according-to-approval mechanic would return in this concept. this assumes a lot of things that i consider to be canon, including that illario’s a genuinely good assassin (YMMV on this i think. i look upon him with rose tinted glasses) but we’re introduced to illario as the second-best option who accompanied lucanis on various mage-killing quests.

he’s recruited in minrathous and not treviso because he’s been killing venatori like a man crazed. i forget who made the post but the one about how veilguard recruitment quests feel forced because you are recruiting, when stumbling on the right people could have felt more organic and a lot less formulated. he’s been operating in minrathous as the ‘demon of vyrantium’, which he admits to rook that he’s not the original. the original was lucanis, who was captured and killed by the venatori, and in his grief, has been trying to kill the magister (zara) that killed his cousin. he’s actually very nice and fun for an assassin, but players get the feeling that the charm is practiced, and there are glimpses into the “something rotten” under the surface.

what the players also do not know is that his hatred for the venatori is definitely projecting his guilt, because even in this au, illario is the guy who originally betrayed his brother and his complexes (slash pos slash hot slash i often picture him on his knees) remain. anyways. plot breakdown under the cut because its so fucking long and please take with a grain of salt because this was workshopped on a call with fie, who ‘yes and’s everything i say, so it might not be the greatest plot ever. nor very coherent. however, this is my blog and i can say whatever i want

act one recruitment: hunting down and killing zara. there’s foreshadowing here or something where she definitely recognises him and the facial animation leans towards “betrayal”. like zara saying “you?” in a way that can be mistaken for fear, when it’s recognition and betrayal + illario killing her before she can reveal anything else. they find evidence that lucanis is still alive and you see how excited he is, but also very conflicted. illario finally returns to treviso, and you immediately see the favoritism when he informs caterina that lucanis could still be out there. caterina delights in the idea of her favorite weapon back in her possession, and illario swears to bring him back.

in between: there’s a venatori leak! the magisters send some back up to weisshaupt which makes things a lot harder for the veilguard (miniboss before ghil?), and it contributes to failing to strike at ghilanain. but who could it be? everyone is a bit wary of each other, and causes friction.

act two: the ossuary <3 inexplicably, illario has found where lucanis is. the veilguard fights their way in and out, escaping with lucanis and destroying the vial of blood. they also find out lucanis is possessed, and when they return to treviso, after the shock and relief leaves, there’s a gleam in caterina’s eyes. illario is moved up in line of succession because caterina can’t see an abomination becoming talon (canon not discussing that he’s fucking possessed pisses me off so bad btw), and she’s obviously envisioning a world where lucanis’ leash is passed onto the grandson she’d seen as lesser, but has recently proved himself better than she had previously judged. suddenly, illario has everything he’s ever wanted, but not in the way he’s wanted it. he’s never wanted to necessarily be greater than, and doesn’t want to lose him. illario is very uncomfortable about becoming a new caterina to lucanis, but can’t express himself or explain it because he’s deeply repressed and he’s trying to be happy because, isn’t this what he wants?

in between: illario’s acting super weird. a high approval illario is a lot more awkward and doesn’t seem to know what to say, which is a first for him. he’s obviously putting on a brave/pretty face on, and hesitates to say something— but finally just thanks rook for helping him get lucanis back. a low approval illario is actually much happier, smiling and laughing and delighted by the way things have gone, with rook/the player none the wiser about what’s happened. (kind of like… bull’s reaction to the chargers in the dreadnought quest being positive either way, but the repercussions come later)

if you are in a romance, a low approval illario will trigger a sex scene, a high approval illario does the dellamorte branded “lean in for a kiss but he can’t bring himself to actually follow through and leaves rook awkwardly”. the differences in reaction would ideally confuse and interest players :)

act three: hinges on approval rating. illario plotted to trade rook’s life for lucanis’. the venatori at weisshaupt was supposed to be their shot to kill them, but failed to do so, and now they’re forcing him to make good on his deal. there’s a cutscene where the party is led into a trap and a high ranking venatori magister— the one who actually experimented on lucanis (because zara is like a middle man. she wants the blood but isn’t the evil mage scientist who did all the experiments)— shows himself and reveals everything illario has done. he was the one behind lucanis’ initial ‘death’. how the venatori leak was him. illario is desperately trying to keep the venatori’s mouth shut, but the magister is tricking him with magic as he tries harder and harder to keep his cover. a fun, trippy kind of sequence where there are illusions and mindfucky magic as illario stabs at the magister and finds out he’s attacking air, and the party keeps getting attacked with magic that they can’t figure out is real or not until it hits them, in this hall of mirrors type freakshow. it splits into two different paths:

low approval: the deal to save lucanis over rook was made early on, and nothing they have done has made illario think differently. he’s scripted to be more defensive and try to stop the magister from speaking, ignoring the party and thinking only about how he can keep his secrets but failing to. he’s angry that his plans have fallen down around him, and attacks both the party and venatori, determined to keep his failures from reaching anyone else (god forbid it reach caterina). the party are forced to kill him when he turns on them, willing to work with the venatori to keep the power he has before it slips away from him again.

high approval: everything they have done has made illario think differently and he’s spent ages regretting and trying to find a way out of the deal (see: the distress he feels right after becoming first talon, interesting codexes, etc). he’s scripted to defend rook from magic, at cost to himself, physically protecting his friends/rook from the magister and getting in the way of spells. he admits what he’s done and pleads with them to help him, despite having no reason to trust him. after the party fights the magister off together, illario begs for forgiveness, explaining himself, how regret couldn’t make up for what he’s done but he’s still tried to change things, change himself. but how could you ignore the feeling that, as with everything else in his life, that this is another lie? you get the choice to trust him and forgive him, or kill him for betraying the veilguard. i think this can hit harder if he’s romanced and you forgive him. the image of him pleading literally on his knees is about to get me to black out, followed by a rook who gets down on the ground and lowers themselves to his level just to kiss him before pulling them both up onto their feet again…. its like a ‘i fear to stain your hands with blood’ moment <3

completed companion quest: faced with compassion that he’s basically never extended to anyone, illario is inspired. he admits this guilt to lucanis, wanting to make him talon and leave everything behind, and while lucanis initially is obviously both angry and distressed, he later seeks out illario by himself, and their reconciliation happens off screen. i’d love for rook to be there so i could this but i honestly do not think its their place like can we leave the dellamortes to do this by themselves. in private its just a very “you went through hell to get me back. i think i need to give you a chance” + a slow rebuilding of the trust they had. and also lucanis has not even gotten the same outside support system as illario has taken his place and i think it’s good to note that. well. illario is about the most positive his relationships get and the only other person he would potentially have is caterina, who is also a more intense and outwardly scheming in this au. so not to be like “lucanis has no choice” but he kinda has no choice LOL. the point is: lucanis decides to protect him, and says that this betrayal is something they have to keep secret together as long as it safeguards illario, which safeguards himself. like what would the crows think of 1) illario trying to usurp power using an outside source (infighting/betrayal is okay. bringing a third party into crow business is not), 2) illario losing the idgaf war and desperately bringing lucanis back, 3) lucanis being possessed, 4) lucanis forgiving illario despite it all because they’re so codependent they can’t even bring themselves to leave the other. house dellamorte so weak that they can’t snuff out the weakness in each other? oh fucking brother. they can’t let anyone know how dire this situation is, and need to present a united front. also the terrible fact that they love each other deeply remains. mentioned in banter probably? eg:

“So… what do the Crows think?” // “The Crows don’t know.” // “…What? But your brother, and you—“ // “Are keeping it to ourselves. We’ve discussed this. House Dellamorte can’t afford to look divided, not right now.” // “So, what, he just forgave you?! You’re moving on? From trying to kill him?” // “'Forgave' is such a strong word, but maybe someday, yes. And we’re not just family, we’re Antivan Crows. You should know by now that we’re odd like this.”

“Illario. How long do you think you can keep that secret?” // “Considering only us, Lucanis and I know about it, hopefully forever. He insists that no one else has to know. Or should I be afraid that you’re going to go tell on me?” // “No! It’s just… Lucanis doesn’t, I don’t know, want vengeance?” // “Ha! He is the vengeancey one. But no. No, he’s… between the two of us, he’s always been the good one.” // “Lucky you.”

i also picture a lot of post revelations blackwall type banters and maybe something like davrin going “I have to believe you can be better, that you’ve changed. Half the Wardens are like that.” and once again i have to grieve varric because if there’s anyone that would understand lying their ass off and having mixed feelings about their brother, IT’S HIM LOOLLL. i think harding would treat him quite harshly, and neve loses a lot of respect because why would you ever even think about working with the venatori. but there’s a recognition over how he’s changed for the better. i think bellara is the surprise sympathiser, with everything she feels about cyrian. (“For a second, listening to Anaris to be with my brother again was worth it. So… yeah. I get it.” // “You weren’t foolish enough to fall for it. I did.” // “But you’re fixing it, aren’t you?” // “I’m trying.” // “Cyrian tried too. And if I can still forgive him, I can forgive you too.” // “…Thank you.” )

i also think a serious talk about being talon happens, where lucanis doesn't think he should be talon (possessed so his self worth is at an all time low. and also he's always thought illario should be talon anyway) and asks illario to keep the title. which is... weird because suddenly illario realises he doesn't necessarily want to be talon anymore. sure he can, sure he finally has caterina's approval, but he's got a new chance in life and he's not sure he wants to spend his life running an organisation that doesn't even care about him, would betray him first chance they got and remind him of the way he used to be, or see who he is the way the veilguard/lucanis has. his bitterness towards caterina also trumps his envy of lucanis, and the idea of lucanis resenting him as much as he resents caterina is something he'd like to avoid, which is another reason he's uncomfortable with being expected to tug at the leash. indecisive, illario can't quite fully commit himself to the crows, but is nervous about what leaving them would mean.

endgame: he would take lucanis’ place as a magekiller in this ofc, so he’s the guy killing ghil, and (for now….) first talon leading the crows to fight in minrathous (illario: “one of us should probably say something. remind the crows in whose name this fight is to be fought. we are emotional beings after all, and rhetoric is the fuel that feeds the fire—“ viago: “maker’s sake just give your speech”) i’ve also implied romance throughout this ask while not discussing it properly (ask me about it later. i need time to think on the whole romance arc and beats i know it exists but i refuse to give out half baked illario thoughts.) and i think the endgame post-fade prison talk would be very sweet and so intensely genuine/sincere and illario’s half struggling with being this truthful but pushes through because he wants to say “i love you” and really mean it. almost losing rook has put his priorities in order, and rook is at the top of this order, which has made him reevaluate everything else in his life and realise, "i don't think i can live without you. please don't make me". it’s fun for me that lucanis’ romance is a first in many different ways, but for illario it would be the first time experiencing actual romantic feelings for someone that he’s not faking, so you can imagine the damage its wrecking on his crow-psyche. sometime here i think there’d also be a decision where he’d ask to leave the crows and be with rook, tho i also think if given the chance to develop he could actually find something he cares more about than being first talon. genuine affection might kill him, reciprocated affection would probably be the nail in that “fuck the crows actually i just found out i like life outside of treviso” coffin.

but this is kind of leaning towards “illario only leaves the crows if you romance him” which i don’t like the sound of. he should be able to do that without a romantic relationship. i think narratively the best way to end this arc is for illario to leave the crows after having found alternatives to what he believed his life should amount to (as i think lucanis should have in veilguard), but i also don’t exactly know how to end it. i do want house dellamorte to be defunct, like an ‘illario leaves, and so does lucanis’ thing, where even lucanis gets the chance to grow out of believing “death is his calling”. i also like the idea that illario, ever the extrovert, gets real friends and is like “LUCANIS. you gotta fucking experience this” LMFAO. i’m thinking maybe the companion you spend most time with illario in the party after his act 3 quest starts to suggest things, so neve being like “you made a pretty great demon of vyrantium. consider making venatori-killing your full time job, you were good at it, despite all the traitor stuff.” or taash going “you know, you wouldn’t be the first lord of fortune to make mind numbingly stupid mistakes. drop by sometime. you and isabela can bond over it.” and they’re half joking but it makes the cogs in illario’s mind turn where he’s like “whoa. i could just. stay with the people who like me!” and where he goes is mentioned in the epilogue. a romanced illario would potentially just join the faction rook is a part of, tho a de riva would probably be unique in choosing if they want to remain a crow.

HOWEVER. i honestly don’t know if this is in character. fie and i convinced ourselves it was but i’ve had some time to really chew on it and idk if he’d want to give his ambitions up?? if someone has managed to read on this far, feel free to suggest things if you like i am always stumped because i don’t actually want to crows to stop being an assassin house, and there’s ofc no way to really make them ‘softer’ without taking away the bite that makes them interesting to play with. but extricating the dellamorte cousins from this WHILE feeling true to dragon age writing is difficult lol. just let me think. i’ll be back with some results hopefully.

side note: if illario is killed, lucanis takes his place with some difficulty (spite getting in the way, and no relationship building as he would get in canon) especially because despite his incredibly complicated feelings about his cousin trying to kill him, all of his anger is directed at rook for actually killing him. it doesn’t matter if lucanis would/could have never forgiven him, or otherwise, rook has taken that chance of hashing it out with illario from him completely, and lucanis won’t forgive them for it.

anyways the potential endings and first talons:

lucanis defaults into first talon if illario is killed as the only remaining heir, and struggles in this role alone, though the fact he is an abomination helps keep the crows in control for a while #cycles #snakethateatsitsowntail #housedellamorteissocooked

illario can remain first talon if encouraged to stay during the endgame, or if romanced by a rook de riva that also chooses to stay with the crows. depending on how the crow missions were complete, his direction with the crows either hardens/softens the organisation.

teia becomes first talon if illario decides to leave the crows, and rook has made choices that lean towards ‘softening’ the crows, eg. sparing ivenci to humiliate him, helping the crow-venatori loves run away, being kind towards jacobus, etc. the crows gain a reputation for coercion and can once in a while be found targeting, killing or exposing corrupt officials.

viago becomes first talon if illario decides to leave the crows, and rook has made choices that lean towards ‘hardening’ the crows, eg. killing ivenci to humiliate him, turning in the crow-venatori lovers, being harsh with jacobus, etc. the crows gain a reputation for efficient, quick assassinations that tip the scales towards anyone who can pay for their services.

if missions were not complete, the antivan crows’ reputation falls as they get sloppier, unable to recover from their losses and struggling to keep ahold of their power. there’s a reshuffling of talons, but the crows are in such disarray that it takes a decade for them to recover and gain back the effeciency they used to be infamous for.

ANYWAYS. sorry for that it is actually getting away from me and i don’t know how much of this is clear and how much of it is just my wishful thinking. i think there’s enough good things here to publish as an answer tho i’m aware this plot is kind of dollar store zevran LOL. maybe the best way to describe it is that i’ve accidentally combined blackwall, bull, and zevran’s arcs into this. hope this is at least a bit compelling for you anon!!!!!

[writingoddess1125]

Marillenfleck in Winter

König x FemReader

Fluffy Fluff Fluff!

Feed me Seymore Feed me!! <<< 🍖

"We can do this-"

You muttered to yourself and then down at your swollen stomach. Feeling the fluttering kicks of the child locked inside of you- assuming that was them agreeing.

"Hell yeah-"

Stepping forward with all the confidence you could muster as you carefully lowered the breaded pork cutlet into the hot oil and watching it carefully bubble as you let it settle.

Stepping back as the oil reacted for a moment before settling-

Two months ago before your husband left for his mission was lying in bed with you, his hand on your stomach as he reminisced-

'It is moments like this I almost wish to return to my Village just to show you off.. and share in some food with you' He mused, you looking at him in surprise.

'Wait we don't live near your home?' You say surprised, Having always assumed that König had chosen the secluded cabin 40 minutes from the closest village cause he was familiar with it. He chuckled at this and shook his head-

'No, I'm from near Dürnstein-'

Which was on the otherside of the country from were the two of you lived- You silently vowed to bring at least a taste of his home to him-

So for two months you'd been gathering ingredients and experimenting to make some folds from his home-town.

Did you have any real idea what you were doing?- No.

Did you know if these were ment to be eaten together?- Hell No.

Were you trying your best? Absolutely.

Speaking of trying your best- it was dead winter, 7inches of snow a day easy and what doesn't grow in winter?

Apricots-

So many Apricots in most of these recipes from near his home. Apricots cakes, wines, pastries, even in sauces with pork!

So you finding apricots was the most important thing. You tried the internet but didn't trust the quality from most places or they were dried which wouldn't have worked-

That's when you ventured out being forced to touch grass- Well snow in this case.

Market after market, looking in their freezer section to produce you couldnt find shit for the first 2 weeks of this adventure.

You were honestly thankful you were pregnant since when you went to the village closest to you asking for apricots in dead of winter- people assumed it was a desperate cry for a craving and a older women gave you a bag of them from her deep freeze she had saved. You of course paid her handsomely for the kind gift

This thrn started your dark road of trying to figure out these fucking recipes-

You tried every recipe and varient you could, pulling up photos of restaurants near your husband's origin and trying to match them-

Another blessing of being pregnant was being able to eat any failed attempts or trying recipes that wasn't going to be fed to König.

However the time had finally come! König was going to be home within the next hour, having called you the night before from his train station to tell you his arrival and you'd fluttered to make sure everything looked perfect.

"Alexa! Set a timer for 20 minutes!" You called out, flipping the cutlet seeing the even golden crust.

Reaching over you check the goulash stewing in the pot and saw it was almost done. Stirring it once before you checked on the bread dumplings and pulled them from the boiling water- You hadn't made these before in your experimental 2 months so you were excited!

Bacon Bread dumplings- Time to taste!

Taking a big bite you paused- truthfully confused over what the fuck you'd just put into your mouth. Chewing for a while as you tried to figure out if you'd done something wrong or if your taste was more off then you thought due to the baby- after the second bite you knew it was the baby and not the food especially whem you spooned some of the goulash ontop.

"...You know what, I'm just gonna blame you for this-" You said pointing at your stomach which earned another fluttering feeling as you finished the dumpling and stew sample.

Pulling the cutlets you let them sit on a wire rack as you plate the potatos and salad Konig liked- However your eyes landed on the centerpiece of this meal and what you were so focused one. The Marillenfleck Cake.

Still cooling as the beautiful Fluffy pastry showed off its shivered almost and the delicate apricots baked into its Fluffy self.

A summer apricot staple you'd manage to drag into winter!

You suddently heard the sound of the truck pulling up to your home, jumping in excitement you set the finished goulash down on the table and rushed around for the final touches.

Setting the plates down you mentally high-five yourself and rush to the front room as you hear König walk in. Grumbling about the snow outside as he kicked off his boots-

"Welcome Home Honey" You say cheerfully, wadling yourself over to your man- He had his mask off, most likely shoved away in his pockets in desperate need of a wash and he seemed to have showered at base since the black paint wasnt around his eyes-

Soft gray eyes greeted you and König gave a wide smile, reaching out and scooping you quickly in his arms and kissing your lips.

"I have missed you Liebling, You and the baby are well?" He asked softly as his gloved hand touched the swell of your stomach.

"Yes, We are fine. I'm so glad your home" You say cheerfully, feeling your eyes get misty already just by having him home.

"I have a surprise for you" You say cheerfully and jump, making the man chuckle at your physical excitement or attempt since the belly seemed to keep your feet planted.

"Oh?" He chimed amused, peeling off his coat and gloves as you pulled him to the kitchen and waiting set dining table.

When König saw all the food, his heart fluttered. He saw how much time this took, slowly stepping forward as he gazed over your heard work in total shock.

"(Y/N)- You did so much.. You should be resting not slaving in the kitchen" He said softly, looking at you in worry for your effort in the fantastic meal set on the table.

"I wanted to give you a nice surprise, You hungry?" You saw with a smile- Konig chuckling at this as he nodded, pulling out your chair so you could sit first before sitting himself.

Severing plates König couldn't help but laugh at the wide variety you'd made, from pork schnitzel and potato salad and the goulash and dumplings. Eating happily he hummed delight.

"I'm impressed! Very Gud Mein Liebling!" Demolishing the plates infront of him as the two of you sported casual conversation and König feeling your baby bump-

"And for dessert" You say cheerfully as you cut him a slice of the cake and set it before him. His face twisting in confusion.

"Liebling were did you get marillen {apricots} in winter?-" He asked genuinely confused as he cut into the pastry clearly doing a lot of mental math in trying to figure out how you manages this.

"It's a long story, but I got them!" You said cheerfully cutting open your own and taking a massive bite- Giving a laugh at how delicious it tasted and how you'd managed to not fuck anything up.

Raising a brow of this he hesitated ever so slightly before taking a bit of the dessert and paused, his eyes softening as an almost sad smile hit his lips.

"Konig?.." You say softly as he looked to you- His own eyes misty.

"I haven't had this cake since my Mutti made it for me before she passed-" He said softly, taking another bite of the dessert and smiling. Your heart Sinking at his words-

"I was always so scared to try it again since I knew it wouldn't taste the same" He smiled fondly as he reached out and pulled your seat close to him, love in his gaze.

"I don't know how- But youve made it taste just like the one she made" He said softly, wrapping his arm around you as he kissed your hair and you could feel the waves of emotion off of him.

"Danke my love" He said softly, lips still pressed to your hair as he held you tighter. Of course hormones not helping as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Anytime"

[cosmicatta]

One Piece Novel: Law — a short analysis

So, after a long time trying to get my hands on the Law light novel, I was finally able to read it recently! And, because I'm an obnoxiously intense person who can't just be normal about things, I found myself taking notes about everything I judged interesting.

And I thought I could share! So here's a mostly improvised essay about the Law novel, how it portrays Law and what it reveals about him as a character.

Some notes before I start:

The edition I've read of this novel is the official Spanish translation by Planeta. When quoting and mentioning numbered pages, I'm referencing that edition.

I originally posted this on Twitter as a thread! If it sounds familiar, that might be why.

For those who haven't read the novel and might want to: be mindful of some trigger warnings, including gruesome medical descriptions, suicidal thoughts, mentions of abuse, and violence in general (I won't be touching on these subjects here though).

These are just my personal impressions, I'm not trying to tell anyone how they should interpret the novel or Law's character. I'm just doing this for fun!

The story takes place right after Cora dies, following young Law's journey as he makes it to Swallow Island and desperately tries to survive. There, he will meet Bepo, Penguin and Shachi, as well as Wolf, a novel-exclusive character that welcomes Law and the boys into his home as a family.

Overall, it's a very short read, agile and straightforward. The style is very juvenile, but that was to be expected, and I'd say it does a pretty good job at capturing the feeling of watching a One Piece episode. The novel does kinda feel like a mini arc.

I'm unsure if light novels can be considered 100% canon in general, but since the contents don't contradict anything from what we've already seen in the manga/anime, I'm going to assume we can at least take the events described in this one as canon.

But I'll leave the plot aside a little bit to focus more on Law's psyche, analyzing everything in the novel as material that helps us further understand him.

The entire book (save from a few specific passages) is written from Law's point of view and in first person, so it offers a more in-depth look at his way of thinking, motivations and ideals.

What I find most interesting in this sense is that the whole story is very centered around Law's kindness. Though he does admit several times that he had wanted to see the world burn when he was under Doflamingo's care (as we already know from the source material), the novel makes it very obvious that Law's true nature is compassionate. His inner voice even explicitly states that he enjoys helping and making others happy. (Quotes roughly translated from Spanish):

P. 27: "And I felt very comfortable collaborating with the task of helping others."

P. 92: "Knowing that I was going to free a person from their pain [...] gave me a joy I had never experienced before."

P. 136: "Just imagining the surprised faces of the Old Man, Bepo and the others brought a smile to my face" [when planning on getting fresh fish for dinner as a surprise].

And, despite living under Wolf's motto of "give to take," Law never expects anything in return for any of his good actions. In fact, he gets furious at Wolf himself when, after saving his life, the old man insists on giving Law anything he demands as compensation.

P. 120: "I didn't save you because I wanted a reward!" [...] They [Bepo, Shachi and Penguin] burst into tears of happiness when they realized that you had survived. That's more than enough for me! [...]" I won't let you belittle their tears!"

But even then, Law keeps arguing that he only saved Wolf "on a whim," much like he would say years later when asked why he chose to save Luffy's life. This is a common theme throughout the whole book (which is also pretty obvious in the manga)—Law doesn't recognize his own kindness.

It's not modesty or shyness, his inner monologue makes it very clear that he doesn't see himself as good-natured, and is often confused at his own motivations.

In their first meeting, when Bepo asks him why he is so nice to him, Law doesn't know what to answer; and after that, when Law finds himself wondering why he's trying so hard to save Shachi and Penguin despite their past history, he blames it all on "doctor's pride."

P. 48: "I wasn't even a good person."

Still, regardless of what Law might think of himself, living in Swallow Island seems to be making him progressively gentler. He was wary and hostile towards Wolf at first, but eventually lets himself trust people again, trying to honor Cora's memory and what he taught Law.

In Swallow Island he builds his new found family little by little, though never letting go of Cora and what he meant to Law.

P. 39: "Cora and I were family, that's what I felt at heart, I had no doubts. We had loved each other without saying it out loud [...] Would I feel the same for the Old Man and Bepo eventually?"

Slowly, he starts finding comfort and joy in community. He lets himself be carefree around his new friends, treating them with open affection, laughing and being surprisingly enthusiastic (although he quickly starts taking his role as a leader very seriously, and sometimes avoids showing weakness around them so as not to worry them.)

Law even gets to become an active part of life in Pleasure Town, where he and the other boys are cherished after 3 years living and working there. He's comfortable with his role in the community and appreciates the people in town. His sense of duty towards them shines especially when the pirates arrive to attack the town.

Again, this contrasts with how Law sees himself even in the manga/anime, where he insists that he acts mostly out of selfishness and only seeking his own benefit (or, in the best of cases "on a whim.")

But the truth is that Law's decisions are almost always related to other people's desires.

In this sense, the concept of guilt is also key to understand Law's motivations and his relationship with the world as a whole. This is especially obvious when it comes to Cora—Law even briefly wishes that they had never met, so that Cora would still be alive (p. 128-129.)

In a way, guilt is what moves Law forward, and what slowly starts transforming into a thirst for revenge, into rage and hatred towards Doflamingo and possibly towards himself too. It's a kind of tragic guilt born out of love.

His love for Cora still haunts him, his last wish for Law is the big enigma that he tries to solve during his 3 years in Swallow Island: be free. What is freedom to Law? How can he fulfill Cora's request? This is the question that gives meaning to the novel.

We know that Law wouldn't feel free until finally taking down Doflamingo and avenging Cora's death many years later, but he hasn't reached that point of determination in the novel yet. Maybe that's what gives the narration that hopeful and optimistic tone, with a young Law that's still finding himself, experiencing wonder in loving again, and learning what it means for him to be true to his values. It's the start of an adventure, and its core theme is love.

The ending illustrates this very well; I especially like the moment where Law names the crew as they're setting sail:

P. 243: "Cora's love that he showed me, Wolf's affection, the trust I had in my companions. One word embodied it all: Heart."

It is love that gives Law a reason to keep going. And I'm so glad that the novel doesn't shy away from this fact and isn't afraid of sounding "sappy" or "corny," because I do believe emotion is a very important part of Law's character.

The epilogue closes with a very interesting quote in the last page:

"You hear that, Cora? This is my... This is our pirate crew."

It is unclear if by "our" he is referring to himself and Cora, as if dedicating this new beginning to him, or if he means him and his crew. I'd personally like to think he means it both ways. But in any case, it's interesting that he openly shares the honor of "owning" his crew with someone else. He is the captain, but not the owner. It's another little way in which his generosity is evidenced.

Overall, it was a very enjoyable read, and it left me wanting more. Obviously, it's not a literature masterpiece, but it gives a lot of interesting material for character analysis, which is super fun.

Finally, here’s a few fun facts for those who can’t/don’t want to read the novel but enjoy the little trivia:

The Polar Tang was built and designed by Wolf.

Law’s first tattoo was "DEATH," and he got it at a local tattoo shop in Pleasure Town at around 15 years old.

Shachi and Penguin are childhood friends and likely met through their parents.

Shachi had always wanted to be a hair stylist.

Law is bad at cooking.

Both Shachi and Penguin are good at cooking, especially Penguin, who worked as a waiter in Pleasure Town.

The Hearts’ jolly roger was collectively designed by Law, Bepo, Shachi and Penguin days before leaving Swallow Island.

Law decided the name of their crew upon setting sail for the first time.

And I think that's all! ♥ I hope my rambling was enjoyable at least!

Edit: I've now posted an analysis of the Ace novels too!