#the pacing in this is a little off and the ending is Eh but otherwise im pretty happy w this. yippee

[misqnon]

Royal Blue

A gen Sanji fic, around 6K words. also on ao3, here

“Hey, guys? The News Coo just dropped off a letter with the paper, but I think it was a mistake. It’s not addressed to any of us.”

“Who’s it addressed to?” Robin asks. 

“Vinsmoke.” Nami says simply, and Sanji actually staggers in his place on the deck. 

-----

Five times Sanji’s secret past as a Vinsmoke almost got revealed to the crew, and one time he can’t help but tell them.  

AKA I love dramatic character revelations and I’m bitter not everyone was there to react to Whole Cake Island. 

Disclaimer- I’ve never actually written for an active fandom before, nor have I finished reading/watching One Piece. Please forgive any blatant errors. I’m currently in the middle of Water 7 and I skip around a lot. 90% of my knowledge comes from secondary sources.

pls enjoy!

The first time it happened, it was less of a danger to his cover, and more a painful reminder that he had anything to hide at all.

After all, he’d left that history behind him so long ago that by now, more than 10 years later, he was sure he wouldn’t ever have to reveal that history. Hell, not even Zeff knew. As far as he was concerned, Sanji was just an orphan boy who’d ended up in that unlucky cruise ship kitchen, and he didn’t need to know how he’d gotten there. 

So when they’d all been traveling through the Alabasta desert, Luffy and Nami and Vivi and all the rest of the crew, Sanji hadn’t been thinking about it much at all. When they’d found out Vivi was a princess, well, it had put a little ping into his mind. That little, “You’re technically a prince, too, remember?” But he had quickly squashed it. Not anymore, and never again, so he didn’t need to dwell on the commonality between them.

That was, until weeks later, during that boundless desert trip, when they’d all been sitting around the campfire, resting up for the night on the cool desert sand. It was so much more pleasant than the heat that’d been oppressive over their heads all day. Everyone was chatting, idly enjoying the soup he’d made for everyone. Luffy had downed two bowls of it, and was now snoozing with his hat over his head to the right of them all. Zoro seemed to have a similar idea, though it wasn’t clear if he was actually asleep, or just leaning back with his eyes closed in his usual introverted manner. 

Nami and Vivi were sharing stories over the meal, shawls pulled over their shoulders, and Usopp and Chopper were messing around beside them, occasionally joining the conversation to interject one of Usopp’s grand adventures or Chopper’s impressed gasps. 

He decided to stroll over to the two women, now with his own bowl carefully balanced in his hand. The chef always ate last, after all.

“Hello, Vivi my sweet! And Nami, my swan! How is the soup?” He asked, practically floating through the air to slide in beside them both. Usopp silently rolled his eyes.

Vivi just smiled, answering for both of them. “It’s delicious, Sanji! Thank you for making dinner again.”

“Why of course! It’s my job as the chef, after all!” He sang, still balancing the soup in his hands that he has yet to even touch, now distracted. 

Then, he continued, “You know, this recipe is sometimes called ‘Marry Me Soup.’ They say it’s so good that it’ll convince you to marry the chef.” He said, wiggling his already swirling eyebrow.

Vivi just giggled. “I’m flattered, Sanji, but I don’t think my father would appreciate me getting married right now. Besides, I’ve always been told I’m expected to marry a prince.” She didn’t seem particularly happy about this, nor did she seem very enthusiastic about marriage, period- but Sanji still deflated at the undercut of a rejection. For multiple reasons.

The hopeless flirt within him almost blurted out, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day then, Princess Vivi!’

Except it didn’t, at all, because even for Vivi’s hand in marriage he wouldn’t let that secret slip. 

Instead, he just clamped his jaw shut, sat down beside them, and took a sad sip of his soup. Usopp and Chopper laughed, unaware of the true reason for his melancholy. Nami reassured Vivi he’d be fine after she momentarily worried she’d offended him, before scooching closer to inquire further if she really had to marry a prince someday, against her will. They began chatting again, Nami looking fiercely protective all of a sudden.

Sanji only had a couple more spoonfuls before he stood, silently, and walked off a few feet away from the group for a smoke.

A certain green-haired swordsman poked an eye open to glance over at him as he walked by.

That was odd. Sanji didn’t usually smoke while people were still eating. Especially the ladies. It was inconsiderate, he said, cigarette smoke wafting into people’s faces while they tried to eat, tainting the taste with the smell of nicotine.

But there he was, huffing away at the cigarette a bit too fast, in Zoro’s opinion. Then again, he didn’t really know anything about smoking. Nor did he care. He shrugged, shut his eye again, and went back to resting.

Now that Sanji thought about it, looking back, maybe it’d been on his mind more than he thought. After all, why else had he used the codename “Mr. Prince” while he impersonated Mr. 3?

—

“Liar Noland?”

“You know it, Sanji?” Nami asks, peering at this book that she’s never heard of. “But it says it was published in the North Blue.” 

“I was born in the North Blue.” He says, and actually smiles, wide and true. His memories of back then are anything but good, but…

“Didn’t I tell you?” He tries to play off, though he knows he’s done no such thing. “It’s where I grew up.”

“No, I thought you were from the East like the rest of us.” She muses, and Usopp agrees. 

Sanji continues. And a smile comes to his face again, for the same reason. “My mom used to read me that book when I was a kid.”

For a moment Nami and Usopp both think this is the first Sanji’s told them much of anything about his childhood- they know he had a pretty rough going when he met Zeff, but that’s about it. They’re too focused on the task at hand, though.

Nami opens it and begins to read, the rest of the conversation forgotten.

—

The seven of them stood around the ancient stone door as if peering at it would do anything.

“WHY WON’T THIS STUPID DOOR OPEN!?” Luffy yelled eventually, stomping his feet with impatience.

Robin stepped forward, looking closer at the intricate carvings of winged creatures and giant serpents. Most compelling was the small bowl that seemed to be carved into the center, right below a sharpened bit of rock in the enclave. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this before…” She said, hand to her chin in thought. Unlike Luffy, she wasn’t upset, only engulfed in academic curiosity. She stepped back then, walking away to inspect the other parts of the carvings, further down the wall. 

“Can’t we just break it down?” Zoro asked, poking at the old stone with little regard for its value. Nami frowned at him, slapping his hand away. 

Robin didn’t waste any emotion at his comment, still looking at the newfound bit of text she’d found behind some ivy. 

“This stuff is ancient, you idiot! It’s irreplaceable!” Nami growled, scowling as Zoro narrowed his eyes back at her. For a moment, Robin felt a bit of appreciation for the navigator. She was definitely the most levelheaded of this group so far.

“It could be booby-trapped! Besides, it’s probably worth a ton of Berry.” She said, eye’s suddenly aglow with a mischievous shine.

Nevermind, Robin thought with a sigh. 

Sanji, Usopp, and Chopper stood back with little to contribute. Usopp seemed to be trying to think of a way to get them over the impossibly tall wall, while Chopper distracted Luffy with the sighting of a big beetle.

Sanji just stood there, a lit cigarette lazily lilting smoke between his teeth. They’d probably figure it out between Usopp, Robin, and Nami. Meanwhile, he could continue to plan out what to make for the rest of the week with the meager rations of fruit and meat they’d gathered.

That was, until Robin finally stood, hand still on her chin but a look of accomplishment dancing on her features.

“Here. It says that to open the door, we must provide a drop of royal blood.” She explained, pointing to the ancient language inscribed on the ivy-covered wall.

Everyone rose their eyebrows at that, including (and especially) Sanji.

“Royal blood?” Usopp asked, confused. “Like a king or something?”

“Aw, man!” Luffy cried. “If only Vivi was still with us!”

“That doesn’t make any damn sense.” Zoro said. “How does the wall know whether the blood is royal or not?”

Robin shrugged. She was an archaeologist, not a scientist. “Who knows.” She said simply.

“I’ll just try it.” Luffy said, rolling up his sleeves and stomping over to the little enclave that held the bowl and the piercing rock. 

“Wait!!” Chopper yelled. “You can’t just go stabbing yourself with ancient rocks! Especially ones that have already had other people’s blood on it!” He cried, now trying to pull Luffy away from the wall. He continued to drone on about bacteria and blood-borne diseases as Sanji began sucking a little harder on his cigarette.

Honestly, he didn’t really see the need to get into the old temple anyway. He was starting to think they should just leave. For completely unselfish reasons.

“For once, I agree with the marimo. Let’s just break the damn thing open.” He said, stretching his leg. 

“No, damnit!” Nami said, stomping over to him. “You could set off a trap!”

He frowned at that, putting his leg down obediently. 

Usopp was next to Robin now, looking between the inscription she’d found and the spot where Chopper was still frantically pulling Luffy away from. “I don’t get it.” He decided finally. “Besides, what do they mean by ‘royal blood,’ exactly? Will any royal blood work, or only the royal blood of whoever ruled this nation?”

Robin found it to be a very good question coming from the teen. She nodded in agreement. “True. The inscription doesn’t clarify.”

As soon as Usopp said it, he began to wonder the same thing. And it made him more nervous. His poor cigarette was almost spent now. 

Would his blood work? If it did, would they suspect anything? Should he put it in now, and claim the door was just stupid, like Zoro had claimed earlier? If so, he’d better do it before Luffy, in case the rubber man’s didn’t work-

“HAHA!” Luffy exclaimed, finally pricking the tip of a rubbery outstretched finger on the rock. Chopper deflated in resignation, now joining the rest of them in peering at the bowl as Luffy’s blood fell into it. 

The drop of blood fell into the bowl, sat momentarily on the bottom, then was suddenly absorbed by the porous stone as if it was dying of thirst. Everyone looked on in various states of amazement and fear as they waited, one second, two seconds, three seconds, five, ten-

“...I don’t think it’s doing anything.” Nami finally grumbled.

“Well, the good news is, it doesn’t look like it set off any traps.” Replied Usopp, looking around anxiously for any sign of movement in the jungle around them.

Robin was peering at the bowl with curious blue eyes. “Intriguing…”

“Aw, man!” Luffy huffed. He turned suddenly to Usopp. “Usopp, you try.”

“WHAAA? WHY ME?”

“You like Kaya. And Kaya’s kinda royalty. That’s close enough, right?”

“KAYA ISN’T A PRINCESS, LUFFY! SHE’S JUST RICH! AND I’M NOT EVEN HER! THAT’S TOO MUCH OF A STRETCH.” Usopp yelled in frustration. 

Zoro, Chopper, and Nami were various degrees of frustrated and fed up listening to the two of them bicker. Sanji was still anxiously tapping his foot, hoping the captain wouldn’t systematically make them all try. And if he did, hoping that his didn’t do shit.

That is, until they heard the familiar call of Marines from up the path behind them. 

Sanji turned, eyes wide with panic. “Shit-” He said, lighting another cigarette. 

“Marines? All the way up here? How?” Someone said. Sanji wasn’t even paying attention anymore.

“HURRY USOPP! C’MON, GO!”

“NO, LUFFY! MINE WON’T BE ANY DIFFERENT!”

Zoro started unsheathing Wado, ready for a fight, though even he seemed to realize that that was far too many Marines and they were far too close to be able to run.

As the group devolved into arguing, panic, and frantic attempts to prepare for a fight, Sanji looked back one last time at that stupid door and its stupid little blood-sacrifice bowl. 

The Marines were visible now, charging from the bottom of the hill and quickly approaching- the path they’d used to get here- the only path out- now blocked. 

Sanji cursed, pushing through the mess of the crew and jabbing his thumb onto the rock. 

The group went quiet as the giant stone doors began to shake, then pulled slowly open into a dark, but open, temple. 

They all looked in surprise to Sanji, who bit down on his cigarette and began running through the opening. 

“C’mon, idiots! The Marines are right behind us!”

The group took one look back and followed, sighing in relief as the giant stone doors began to pull shut again just as they’d all made it through. 

Everyone was still running, unsure if the Marines would be able to power through, though Luffy had bound up beside him to ask,

“WOOOAH, SANJI! ARE YOU ROYALTY OR SOMETHING?”

“No, idiot. The door’s just stupid. It probably just didn’t work for you ‘cause your blood’s all rubbery and shit.”

Luffy frowned at that, though he seemed satisfied with that answer. 

Sanji didn’t turn around after that, but by the feeling of several pairs of eyes boring into the back of his head, he got the feeling the rest of the crew wasn’t quite as convinced.

—

Luckily for him, (and quite unluckily for everyone else), the temple was indeed filled with booby-traps. No one had any time to ask him why the hell his blood had worked because they’d spent the next hour or so of their lives trying not to die.

When they finally made it out the other side, sweaty and beat-up and a few crewmates still a little bit on fire, it was the last thing on everyone’s minds. Especially considering the map they’d found as spoils for their trouble.

Later that night, though, when they’d made it back to the Going Merry and everyone had feasted on grilled pork and pineapple and rice, Zoro stayed behind after dinner, arms crossed and leaning broodily against the doorframe, all despite the drinking that was now taking place out on the deck. 

“What do you want, Marimo?” Sanji spit, though he had a feeling he might already know what it was.

“Why did your blood open up that door?”

“Like I said, I don’t think that hunk of rock can actually differentiate between royal blood and not. We just got lucky.”

“Luffy’s blood didn’t work.”

“Yea, and like I said, it’s probably because his blood’s all fucked up and made of rubber.” Sanji bit back, emphasizing the fact that he’d already explained this.

“He’s still human. And I’m pretty sure I heard the Marines trying to prick themselves on it too after we got through.”

Sanji shrugged. “I guess I got some royalty in my family line somewhere, then. Like I said, lucky for us.”

Zoro glared at him. ‘Like I said, like I said.’ It was suspicious. 

“Whatever, shit-cook.” He finally replied, shoving off the wall and heading back out to deck to join the party. 

Sanji bitterly lit another cigarette.

—

“Newspaper’s here!” Someone calls from the front deck of the Sunny. Sanji’s already walking around with a tray of drinks, currently stopped at Zoro, who takes it without much of a thank you aside from a glance.

He rolls his eyes and moves on, wanting to take a peek at the paper anyway. Nami has it at the moment, so he heads over, even though he’s already given her her drink- first, as always.

“Anything interesting, Nami?” He asks, forgoing the swan~ that got him an eyeroll earlier. He’s also just genuinely curious, which has him distracted just enough to act normal around women.

She skims it and frowns. “Nah, not much. Unless you consider Buggy interesting news.” She says, throwing the stack of parchment to the nearby table without a care. She takes her drink and leaves, presumably to go work at her desk.

Sanji does not find Buggy the Clown to be worthy of his attention, but the damn weirdo happens to pop up way more than he or any of the crew seems to think reasonable. 

Regardless, he takes a peek at the newspaper anyway, since he’s already there. Nami’s right, nothing’s of interest- save for the stupid comic strip they’ve included on the last page.

Sora, Warrior of the Sea.

Sanji frowns, his face twisting up into the kind of gangster-like grimace he reserves for Zoro when he’s most exceptionally pissed him off. 

He’s not nearly as bothered about it as he should be, but the comic is included in almost every issue of the paper they’ve received since they hit the Grand Line. The first time he’d spotted the Vinsmoke name he’d nearly had a stroke, but apparently, the few crew members who actually read that bit of the paper seemed convinced it was all fictional, the villainous Germa 66 army included.

Sanji was quite fine with leaving it that way.

It’s just a shitty attempt at Marine propaganda, and the fact his family’s been written in as villains as if they aren’t a real royal family kinda does make him laugh. They’ve become so synonymous with evil that they’re written as cartoon villains by the same news company that works with them in the crime underworld. Sanji’s surprised they don’t see it as a slap in the face- maybe they do, but the strips continue to come out unchanged.

On the best days he laughs acridly at the insult it does his biological father, on the worst he bites his lip in anger that he and his crew have to be exposed to their existence.

Though…

He reads the title over again.

Even if it’s just some bullshit marine propaganda, the way they’ve named the main character who beats the evil Germa family again and again brings a small grin to his lips.

—

All in all, the various times his past had almost come out had been relatively easy to cover up.

The closest call, however, had been when they’d landed on an unsuspecting Spring island, a little too close to the North Blue for his liking.

Franky had stayed behind to work on the ship, but the rest of them had gone ahead and went inland to restock supplies, stretch their legs, and find what this island had to offer. 

And for once, they'd decided to stick together instead of splitting up. Mainly because some signs around town had said something about a big festival taking place in the square, and Nami, Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper had convinced the last few less sociable crewmates to come along. 

Despite the proximity to North Blue, Sanji wasn't actually that worried. He'd never heard of this island before, and he doubted his father would be anywhere near it either. Germa may be a wandering country, but it hadn't left the North Blue in a while as far as he knew, and at the moment they were still in the Grand Line.

So when they all walked up the brick path to the town square, finding before them a wonderful spread of tents, stages, and food stalls, he actually found himself a little excited. Good food, good entertainment, and- he squinted his eyes at the closest stage, where a group of women in traditional garb were performing a folk dance.

Beautiful women? Hell yea, maybe this pit stop would be worth it after all.

“Wow, this looks amazing!” Nami cried, clapping her hands together. “I wonder what it’s all for?”

Usopp jutted a hand over his shoulder. “I think one of the signs we passed said it’s somebody’s birthday. Probably one of the kingdom’s rulers, if I had to guess.”

“Usopp, look!” Chopper interjected, pulling lightly on the leg of the sharpshooter’s pants. “They have cotton candy!”

“Cotton Candy!?” Luffy grinned, patting his hat. He ran off like a cartoon character, leaving a trail of smoke and guffaws of laughter behind him. Usopp and Chopper followed behind.

“Wait! You guys don’t have any money!” Nami said, jogging after them with her Berry pouch already half-opened to loan some out (with interest).

Eventually, she’d caught them, and handed out a bit of Berry to the rest of the crew, too. She sent Zoro back to the ship to grab Franky, both so he wouldn’t miss out and so that Zoro wouldn’t get lost on his own. (If he could even make it back to the ship, anyway).

Then she and Robin began making rounds to all the shops and stalls while they waited, leaving Sanji to do whatever he liked by his lonesome. 

And he had absolutely no problem with that. 

Obviously, he went straight over to the dancers, making obnoxious heart-eyes in the audience while he watched. 

Soon enough, though, he calmed down and ended up wandering the food stalls, trading recipes with the vendors and even picking up some local produce from others. 

He'd spent nearly an hour doing so, occasionally running into another Strawhat or two, when a man stopped him near one of the textile stalls. 

Sanji had been about to head back to the ship, looking over one last fancy gourd with a scrutable eye, when someone called out his name. Well, a name.

"Young Master Vinsmoke?"

Sanji felt his blood run cold. He snapped his head up, his eyes meeting a man he didn't recognize. 

He looked friendly enough- actually, he looked quite pleased to see him. He was posed nervously, as if he couldn't believe what was before him. 

Now that Sanji thought about it, he did look somewhat familiar- the frilly outfit and the pins, bobs, and needles stuck into his pin-cushion bottoms. Some measuring tape hung loosely from a pack on his side, and bifocal glasses sat atop his head. 

Not familiar enough, though. And Sanji didn't care who the hell he was, not after calling him that. 

"Are you talking to me?" Sanji asked, cold anger already growing, though at the moment he was trying to keep his cool. 

The man shook his head in amazement. "It is you, isn't it? Young Master Sanji? Why, they told me you'd died!"

Sanji just gaped at him, his latest cigarette falling gracelessly out of his mouth. 

He suddenly grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and dragged the two of them behind the nearest stall, to an unoccupied alleyway nearby. The man squeaked in surprise, which Sanji ignored.

"Who the hell are you?" He gritted out, suddenly realizing his friends could be nearby. He prayed nobody had heard them. After last time, there'd be no way he'd be able to sweep it under the rug again. 

"O-Oh, you don't remember me! My apologies, sir. I'm Taloose. I work as a royal tailor. I worked for your family when you were young, Mr. Vinsmoke.”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT.” Sanji growled, resisting the urge to pull the man up by the lapels of his frilly suit. He knew the other man didn’t know any better, but it still pissed him off. 

Taloose squeaked again. “I’m sorry, sir!”

Sanji let out an irritated breath. “And stop calling me sir.” He grumbled, though with considerably less bite. 

“I don’t answer to that name anymore, and I’m not a prince either. So just Sanji is fine.”

The tailor seemed hesitant to comply, but he nodded, silently. 

There was a long and uncomfortable silence then. Sanji did recognize him, now that he thought about it. He barely saw the guy- maybe every couple months when he was really young, coming in to fix up little suits for special events for him and his siblings. At that age Sanji was still quite friendly, despite the abuse, but he didn’t form close bonds with the various workers at the beck and call of the Vinsmokes. If anything, he was too focused on his mother’s health and his failings in training. Any memories of this guy were quick snippets and stills of standing on a platform with measuring tape around his waist, and little else.

Realizing the silence had stretched a bit too far, Sanji figured he should probably say something. He had dragged the guy back here, after all.

“Tell me…If you worked for my family, then what are you doing here?” He tried not to let his anxiety seep into his question.

“Well, I’m a traveling tailor. I serve many royal families, including the family here. I helped craft the princess’s dress for this party, as well as some of the other family members. Once I was done, I decided I’d stop by and peruse the textile booths around the market- quite a fine selection if I do say so myself-!” He watched Sanji’s face become irritated and decided to shut up. “But, yes. Just here for the event, really.”

Sanji eyed him carefully. “Do you…still work for my family?” 

Taloose shook his head. “No, actually. I don’t mean to flatter you, but you were always my favorite of the Vinsmoke children. Miss Reiju was alright, but the other three boys were quite rude, and with age they only got worse.” He made an unsettled face, as if to imply ‘rude’ wasn’t the full extent of it. 

“It became increasingly difficult to work with them, and my work reflected that. I was on the verge of quitting anyway when your father fired me. I wasn’t qualified to be sewing raid suits anyway.” He scoffed.  

“So you don’t have contact with them any more? You won’t tell them that you met me here?” Now his voice was betraying his anxiety, but he didn’t care.

Taloose just shook his head, smiling kindly. “No sir. I wouldn’t go back even if they paid me a million berries!” He said, standing tall and adjusting his frilly collar with pride. 

Sanji felt himself relax a bit. He nevertheless pulled a new cigarette from the pack in his front pocket. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where they are nowadays, would you?” He asked after a drag. His fingers twitched ever so slightly despite the coolness he now desperately attempted to front.

Taloose was luckily a man without judgement. He shook his head gently. “No, I don’t have a clue. Hard to tell with the place always on the move.” He paused then, looking over Sanji with keen eyes. 

“...I can tell you don’t wish to see them again. I apologize if my presence here made you uncomfortable. I assure you, I haven’t had contact with the Vinsmoke family in years. Should for whatever reason I come into contact with them again, I will not reveal your presence.” He says, bowing. “I promise.” A smile graces his face within the bow.

Sanji grumbles as he grabs Taloose by his collar, yanking him up to stand again. “Ya don’t gotta bow to me, idiot.” 

“...But I appreciate that. Thanks.”

—

Sanji and Taloose part ways after that. 

He’s glad to be rid of the reminder of his past, glad to have the reassurance the Vinsmokes aren’t actively searching for him or anything- but still troubled to have these memories brought back yet again. Running from your past is easy until you’re traveling the world with infamy, and suddenly the spotlight seems to put you back on the radar of harm long thought dead.

Make no mistake, Sanji didn’t regret his choice to join the Strawhats in the slightest. But he was beginning to wonder how much longer he could conceivably keep this secret.

It’s two years before it finally comes back to bite him in the ass.

—

“Hey, guys? The News Coo just dropped off a letter with the paper, but I think it was a mistake. It’s not addressed to any of us.”

Everyone’s heads pop up from their respective locations around the ship, peeking at Nami and the stack of papers now held in her hand. Luffy swings over from his spot on the figurehead. 

“What’s it say!? Open it!” He yells excitedly, now looking down over her shoulder at it himself. 

“You can’t open someone else’s mail, Luffy, it’s against the law.”

“We’re pirates!” He retorts, and for once Nami feels silly, realizing he’s right in this matter. She purses her lips and eyeballs it again, some recognition starting to come to her face. 

Sanji has come down from the galley by now, hands in his pocket as he and most of the rest of the crew approaches the only entertainment they’ve had so far on an unusually boring day of sailing.

“Who’s it addressed to?” Robin asks. 

“Vinsmoke.” Nami says simply, and Sanji actually staggers in his place on the deck. 

“Strangely enough, isn’t that the villain from that popular comic in the newspaper sometime? Why on Earth would someone try to send a fake character a letter? And how’d we end up with it?” Nami continues, though Sanji doesn’t hear her. He’s too busy falling into the depths of a panic attack here and now.

He’d say that his stomach dropped when he heard her say the name, that his blood ran cold, but with his worst trauma suddenly cropping up in front of him in real life, truly occurring and unable to be stopped, right before the gaze of his crew, his family- he just feels nothing. A switch flips in him and all he feels his nothingness, and then pure hot fear.

“...Sanji? Are you okay?” Chopper asks from beside him, his kind face full of worry at the cook’s near instant reaction. He looks pale, his face is staring straight down at the deck like if he doesn’t look up it isn’t real, and from this angle Chopper can actually see both of his eyes for once, and they’re both blown wide and full of fear. 

But he doesn’t answer, because as Chopper asks this Nami slips her thumb under the fold of the envelope and is about to rip it open, and Sanji lurches forward and has to stop himself from Diable Jambe-ing Nami’s hands and burning the letter to ash. He still does something quite out of character for him when it comes to the redheaded woman- which is that he actually yells at her to stop.

Nami, and everyone else, for that matter, freezes.

“Sanji?” Nami asks, incredulous, and a little worried.

He settles for taking it from her hands, as gently as he can manage, which is not at all.

“Don’t.” He says darkly, even though he already has the letter safely in his own hands.

Everyone is silent. They all expect someone to break the silence and yell about not being rude to Nami, but the person they expect to do so is standing right in front of them, doing exactly that. Sanji sighs, and without looking at his crew, slowly rips open the letter.

He looks it over, eyeing it as if he’s in his own pocket dimension at the moment, and no one else is there. Then, when he’s read the contents, he pauses, folds the letter, and sticks it in the pocket of his slacks. 

Everyone is waiting with a question on their lips when he finally looks up again, but no one says anything, even Luffy.

Then Sanji sighs, and crosses his arms. He looks all of a sudden more nervous and unsure of himself than they’ve seen him since before Saboady, maybe even since they’ve met him.

“Do you guys remember…back in Skypiea, when we found the book Liar Noland?”

It seems an odd place to start, but they all give various sorts of a nod.

“And I told you all how I was actually born in the North Blue.” He says, reaching an arm up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. He really wished he had a cigarette right now, but he didn’t want to interrupt by lighting one.

They nod again, aside from Franky and Brook, who hadn’t been on the crew yet at that time.

“Well…” He can’t help it anymore. Quicker than they’ve ever seen him do it before, he slips a cig from his pack and lights it with ease, pulling some smoke out of it like he’s thirsty for it. They’ve all started to put pieces together by now, or at the very least, realize he’s about to open up to them about something quite big.

“My real name…No. My birth name is Vinsmoke Sanji.” He says, wincing at the words put together outloud. “And I’m…I was a prince.” 

Everyone’s eyebrows raise at that, eyes widening; save for Zoro and Luffy, who stay relatively straight-faced, listening intently.

“I left when I was 8. I snuck onto a cruise ship, and then Zeff found me.” He continues, mincing the more ugly details that he doesn’t quite feel ready to tell them yet. He doesn’t want this to become a sob story.

“Basically, I’m a runaway prince. Though my father told everyone I was dead anyway…” He sucks in another breath full of smoke. He keeps stuttering and trailing off in his words in a way that so isn’t like him, it’s making him sick. He just wants to get this over with.

“The point is, this letter…It’s for me. I’ve been invited back…”

For a moment, Sanji considers not telling them the truth. He doesn’t want to put them in danger, he doesn’t want them to pity him, he doesn’t want them to feel the need to help him, to do so because he’s too weak to do it himself.

But he also trusts them. More than anyone else in the world, save for his father. His real father.

“For an arranged marriage to one of Big Mom’s daughters.” He grits out, biting down on his cigarette with distaste.

Usopp looks ready to burst with questions, Nami and Robin are incredulous, and even Zoro looks vaguely emotive. Franky and Chopper and Brook are just waiting for someone else to say something first.

But Luffy is, strangely enough, smiling. He adjusts the position of the straw hat on his head, ensuring it’s nice and tight. Then he gives Sanji a grin.

“I’ve been waiting for a reason to pick a fight with Big Mom.” He says. 

And somehow, that’s the most reassuring thing he could have heard Luffy say to all of that.

#one piece #one piece spoilers #i am a new fan from the live action. but if u are a new fan from the live action. dont read this unless ur okay with spoilers #sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #op #my writing #fic #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #whole cake island #whole cake arc #whole cake spoilers #kinda. barely #strawhat pirates #the pacing in this is a little off and the ending is Eh but otherwise im pretty happy w this. yippee #cross posted on ao3

[swagatron9]

Thighs

Pairings: Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: nsfw, thigh riding, dirty talk, degrading kink, orgasm denial.

Summary: you interrupt Thomas’ business meeting only to end up riding his thigh in the end.

One question, that's all you had when you originally planned to enter Thomas' office, but that question slipped away when you noticed the people that were inside.

Thomas was currently in the middle of a meeting with other business men, something he forgot to tell you about.

So, as you pushed through the doors of Thomas’ office all eyes were on you in an instant. Your eyes flickered around the room frantically, going from each individual that gave you judging looking, before finally your eyes met with Thomas’. He raised his eyebrow and waited for you to say something, but no words came out. “This meetin’ will be postponed. I’ll see you lads next week.” Thomas announced. The men all look at each other in shock. “Leave, now.” Thomas ordered. Everyone left the room leaving you just you and Thomas behind. “What can I do for ya’?” Thomas asked as he began to sort through different files.

You kept quiet as you slowly walked towards the man sitting behind his desk.

Thomas looked up when you gave him no answer. "What's the matter?" He questioned as he gestured for you come over to him.

With your head kept down, you shyly walk up to Thomas allowing for him to pull you down onto his lap. The way you were position on top of him was so that you were straddling on of his thighs that was tensed up from the way he was sitting and this immediately set you. You whispered as you felt his thigh push up against your core, this caused Thomas to let out a deep chuckle. “That’s what you interrupt an important meeting for? You walk into a room filled with business men and you immediately get wet, shall I call them back into the room so they can see how filthy you are?” You bite your lip and shake your head as you attempt to contain the excitement that grew inside of you. “No? But I think you like that idea.” He whispered deeply.

“Please, Tommy.” You quietly begged as your hips began to move on it’s own.

“Please, What?” Thomas mocked. “You want me to fuck you?” You frantically nodded your head as your hips started moving faster. “You have to earn that right, and quite frankly I enjoy watching you make a fool out of yourself as you desperately ride my thigh. Pathetic, aren’t ya’?” Thomas’ words didn’t give you the humiliating feel that you’d imagine that you’d get, as a matter of fact it only assisted you in your desperation to a finish.

Every now and then your clit would rock against Thomas’ thigh and send a shockwave of intense pleasure down your body, it would cause your hips to stutter as you tried to keep up with your own pace.

Thomas watched as you grew tired from frantically fucking your self against him so he decided to help. Thomas grabbed your hips and moved you along his thigh that he then began to jolt. He would move his leg up and down and sometimes side to side to assist you in the movement, all while pressing you down and rocking your hips. “I can practically feel you dripping through these clothes. You really are a desperate little slag, eh?” You shook your head in denial but through your head back and let out breathy moans. “Your body is saying otherwise, love.”

The knot was forming in your stomach as your release grew closer and closer, but seemed that you couldn’t get off on Thomas’ thigh like you’d wished. “I can’t, tommy.” You all but sobbed as you rutted your hips on top of him.

Thomas cooed at your whining. “You can’t get off? How sad.” He feigned sympathy. “Well, looks like there nothing I can do about that.” Thomas pushed you off his thigh and forced you to stand back on solid ground. Your legs shook as you adjusted to the new founding position and the familiar knot slowly drifted away from you.

“Tommy-“

“Sorry, love. I’ve got buisness to finish.” Thomas picked up some files once again and sorted through them. “If you don’t mind leaving that would be wonderful, your distracting me from important buisness.” Thomas hid a smirk as he looked down and saw the wet patch that stained his trousers. “Oh, and Y/n! I’ll deal with you later.” He called as you left the room.

You whined once more at his words as you stomped all the way back up to your room where you would spend hours waiting for his arrival.

#Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby smut #Thomas Shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I love you; I don't | {SaneGiyuu}

Theme: Angst? It's not bad but there's no fluff lmfao

Note: Spoilers<33

A little UzuRen mention

Idk but when I tell people my oneshot ideas somehow they always make me get angst ideas from what they say abt it, my sister told me i should end this in angst 🫡

×××

"Tomioka."

Giyuu turned at his name, tilting his head at the Wind Hashira who stood there, his arms cross and eyes averted.

"Yes?" 

Sanemi bit his lip, as if contemplating his life choices. "I like you. Romantically."

Giyuu gave a start, his eyes widening and cheeks flushing. "What?!"

"That's what I said," Sanemi snapped, embarrassed. He looked up, glaring at Giyuu through his bangs. "Do... you want to go out??"

"I... I-" Giyuu was at loss for words and his mouth opened and closed several times.

"Take your time," Sanemi said, rolling his eyes.

Giyuu looked down. He wanted to say yes, really, he did. But. But, if he dated Sanemi, he would end up losing him. It wasn't like he could protect Sanemi—one, Sanemi was at the same level (if maybe less or more) of strength as him, and two, he would never let himself be protected, really. Which just increased the chance of losing him, paired with the fact that they were both Hashira and were always sent on missions that were considerably harder. Dating Sanemi would only make Giyuu grow fonder and closer to him, which would make the loss... a thousand times more devestating. So...

"I'm... sorry, Shinazugawa," Giyuu whispered. "I... can't."

Sanemi blinked, speechless for a second, before nodding rapidly. "It's fine. Alright. See you around." Then he turned and seemingly disappeared.

Giyuu sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He felt bad but... he'd feel worse if he lost Sanemi. Which was practically destined to happen if he had accepted, given his luck. People seemed to die away like flower petals on a picked rose when they got close to Giyuu.

×××

"I don't fucking know! It's like... I was getting mixed signals, it's just... Fuck," Sanemi groaned, banging his head on the table. "But he said no. And now there's not fucking way I can show my face to him again."

Obanai sighed. "We should go somewhere else, people are staring," he said. 

"Right..." Sanemi grumbled, standing. "Let's go to an ocean so I can drown myself."

Obanai rolled his eyes and stood, grabbing Sanemi by the wrist and pulling him down a road. "Walk, bitch. We'll go find a place we can train so you can let off some steam."

"Mm."

After Sanemi got ahold of himself, the two walked down the path side by side in silence. Obanai spoke up after a couple minutes.

"Just forget about Tomioka. It won't happen in a flash but... try? If he said no he probably means no and he's just stupid for acting like he likes you then rejecting you. For all we know he might not be into men. I don't know, just try leveling your own feelings with his and see what you can get from it. But... yeah, I would ignore Tomioka too," Obanai said, glancing at Sanemi. "It's not like you two talk much in the first place, so it'll be fine."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Comforting. But, I guess. I'd prefer just to not think about him, to be honest."

"That too," the ravenette said, nodding. "Anyways, relationship are tedious things when you're a Hashira. Or just in the Demon Slayer Corps, period."

"Mm. And yet we have Uzui—in the Demon Slayer Corps, a Hashira—somehow married. To three people. And you can't convince me otherwise that he doesn't have his eyes set on Rengoku too," Sanemi said, scoffing.

Obanai laughed. "He's just built like that. The little fuck is more interested in romance than saving people's lives."

"Eh, wouldn't we be too if demons didn't exist?" Sanemi asked, crossing his arms. 

"Fair point. Or not. I don't know if I'd exist if demons didnt," Obanai murmured thoughtfully.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"...Right."

"...Back to Tomioka," Obanai said, quickening his pace.

"No, not back to him. There should be a clearing up ahead, wanna spar?" Sanemi offered, unsheathing his katana.

"Bet. Loser has to buy the other something?" Obanai proposed, grinning. 

"Count your money, I want ohagi," Sanemi said, racing ahead of him.

"HEY-"

×××

Years had past—yes, years—and Muzan was killed and Hashira were lost. Amongst the living Hashira were Giyuu and Sanemi. Tengen, as well, although he had retired a couple months before. And now that there was no obvious constant threat on their lives, they could live more freely, think more freely.

Paired with the knowledge of when they would die, Giyuu felt as if he could act upon whatever he wanted to. Befriend whom he liked, grow closer to those he wanted to. Somehow, throughout the years, he had loved Sanemi all the same. The feeling had wavered sometimes, but would come back in full bloom only a few weeks later. Since he no longer felt as if he would lose someone immediately because of himself, he decided to tell Sanemi of this. 

So, one day, he sent a crow to Sanemi, asking if they could meet together, maybe eat lunch. The letter was messily written as his dominant(is he right-handed?) hand was gone, but he hoped that Sanemi would be able to read it alright.

Luckily, he seemed to have been able to, as he arrived at noon at the park Giyuu had invited him to. The two had both brought their own lunches and quickly found a place to sit and eat. It was quiet for a moment as the two got their bearings together. The weather was nice, warm with a light breeze, and there was a soft scent of sakura flowers in the air.

Giyuu ate clumsily, not yet used to using his left hand as he struggled with his chopsticks.

Sanemi tilted his head towards him, an amused smirk growing on his face. "You eat messier than Rengoku."

Giyuu huffed. "I'm trying!"

"Mhm. What did you me to come here for? Just to eat?" Sanemi asked, putting down his chopsticks. 

"Ah. You know when... you said that you liked me?" Giyuu said hesitantly.

"Well fuck, going right in. Yes. I don't want to remember that," Sanemi said pointedly, sighing. 

Giyuu gave him a small, lopsided smile. "Alright. Well, I told you 'no,' not because I didn't like you, but because I didn't want to lose you. You understand, yes? I'm sorry... for that. And for not explaining. I just... panicked. I didn't want to risk losing you, then blaming myself forever," he murmured. 

Sanemi stared at him. "That's... Fuck you," he said, grumbling. 

Giyuu sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you telling me this now, though??" Sanemi asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's really out of the blue."

"Ah... About that," Giyuu said, his voice lowering. "So..."

"Hm?"

"About what I said, that I said no, not because I disliked you? Well. Well, I did like you. I... do," Giyuu mumbled. "I like you." He cast his eyes down as he waited for a response. When he didn't get any, he looked back up at Sanemi.

Sanemi looked hesitant, his eyes down at his food on his lap. 

"What's wrong?" Giyuu asked curiously.

"I just..." He trailed off, his eyes meeting Giyuu's. "I don't like you like that anymore. I stopped, after a while. I figured I had no chance, so..."

Giyuu blinked. God. Of course. He should've expected this. "Oh."

"Sorry," Sanemi murmured. 

Giyuu shook his head, forcing a smile. "No, no, like you said before, it's alright. It's fine. You don't have to apologize, it's completely my fault. Uhm... I have to go now, I just remembered I promised to meet Tanjiro later, see you around..." he said, fumbling with his food and standing, quickly rushing off.

"TOMIOKA-" Sanemi shouted, his food falling to the floor as he stood.

Giyuu didn't look back, pressing a hand to his mouth to stop a sob that threatened to spill out. He should've expected this. There was no way in hell Sanemi would've stayed in love after years, it was a miracle he'd loved him in the first place. Of course.

×××

« Word count: 1380 »

i'm writing the part 2 rn ok shut up

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fluff #angst #ds #gay #giyuu tomioka #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x giyuu #sanegiyuu #relationship angst #oneshot #kny fanfic #tomioka #shinazugawa #gays #lgbtq #lgbtqia #after the war #spoilers #i love them

[sixosix]

hi hello

I'm here to write about my experience while reading the latest writing of wanderer. (it shall contain what I'm doing as I'm reading and my reactions - so if you don't wanna read it - that is a-okay!)

I'M STANDING IN -3°C OR EVEN LESS ON A TRAIN STATION FREEZING. I'm reading this by taking a glove off of my hand to scroll and then switching it to the other (taking the other glove off putting this one on) - pain fr, and then smiling to myself like a love struck idiot at 6 FUCKING AM. ON A FOGGY CROWD FILLED TRAIN STATION.

you did say in the a/n that the first part was "unnecessary" but I enjoyed the potrayal of friendship - it fleshed out the mc fr. also didn't except Heizou to be so touchy bUT THEN I gave it a second more of thought (lol) and I can see it. wanderer wearing all black is fucking canon in my eyes in modern!teyvat/world/somewhere.

the flashback was written really cutely, managing to catch the good vibes and capture, in a quite the short amount of text, the history the two have. (except like why does he think he hurt them-myb he thinks it is cos they left? idk listen I'm still sleepy if I missed something dO NOT HATE ME I WILL REREAD LATER TODAY)

next, I manage to find a spot in the train to sit, now nice and warm, chuckling at the boys & mc interaction in the hotel room

takiNG PAUSES - TURNING MY PHONE OFF AND LOOKING OUT INTO THE DARKNESS OF THE MORNING WHEN THEY KISS???? WHEN HE SAYS ANYTHING? I'm out here yet again smiling to myself and looking out of the window before continuing my reading

little love confessions cute! cute! cute!

thE FUCKING CUDDLES THE CUDDLES THE. CUDDLES. as a deeply touched deprived person with main love language being physical affection (with only selected few I care for, otherwise I hate any physical contact) my reaction is - YES. tysm. bless, thank you for your service.

it warmed my heart, perfect perfect perfect. ALSO THE LINE - I JUST RECALLED, THE LINE "You think I'd settle for less than you" - screenshoted, screamed internally, felt special, felt pain no one in this bitch ass world has me yet like that - no one ever will prob let US BE REAL (I'm mentaly dating all of them fictional mfs) , looked out of the window, paused, thought about stuff, leaned my head back to reimagine the scene as I try to also nap and fAIL cos I'm too hyped to read it - like man! 5k words - a LOT (it indeed was not a lot, I forgot how fast I read even when I reread lines and pause, and that I finish a thick ass book in 2 hours.)

it was slow burn without the slow but you worded it so nicely, paced it out, captured the essence of the thought proccess of a "crush" and stuff. also heizou being mentioned so much DOES make sense in the way - that ofc you'd think to tell your bsf this shit and chat with him DUH.

the detail of Aether texting his sister warmed my heart.

roll back a bit earlier - did I mention my train arrived late to my station - and in the freezing dark cold morning I smile and was like "ehe" cos I get to read this in PEACE for 15 mins longer - cos of the late train.

roll back to the present. after the kiss someone sits next to me so I'm putting my phone away, like I'm reading straight up smut of some shit, yet again rethinking everything you wrote.

then I see "a/n" - cut to me screaming, yelling, crying internally for more - feeling like it just began - I need the two days, I need more of the kissing, I need how they solve the end of vacay, and how they work all of it out - ALSO WHERE IS XIAO AMONGST MY ANEMO BOYS

on the topic of xiao I do understand it would be difficult for me as well to put the two boys I love the most in the same fic and just not have anything with one of them. furthermore, I understand one of your notes on a Xiao writing you did as a Xiao main. Listen me too, I could not write about my beloved. it would be a struggle just like it is for you but I KNOW WHY LET ME TELL YOU WHY - to quote Jane Austen "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more" I rest my fucking case.

I CAN FURTHER SUPPORT MY CLAIM WITH THIS - I'm talking to my friend the other day about genshin and he's like tell me about you favorite character, I say a bit while also trying to keep it spoiler free but I struggle so much, because my mind just fills with everything about him, every single thing Xiao has been through and dear gods how do I say it all, how to get across everything he is, has been through. yeah. the quote is true.

I beg on my knees for somehow another part of this wanderer writing I'm just gnawing at a train plush soft cushion (not literally).

every timE I READ ONE OF YOUR THINGS ABOUT THE SHORT SNARKY BOY I'M ALWAYS SMILING TO MYSELF ALWAYS PAUSING LOOKING AWAY, WHAT DO YOU PUT IN THIS WHAT IS THIS SORCERY?

I am very aware of how long this is, hope it wasn't boring - but HEY it is an ask, so technically you can ignore me

I probably didn't manage to caputre all my thoughts while reading it cos I'm just still very tired - hope you have a great day

ps. I could very well write an ask about how I started enjoying (read: liking) Wanderer + how the pulls went (it would be more put together than this ask honestly lmk)

pps much love, keep writing stuff x

hi hello! of course id love to read. i love the trend of sending long asks like this!! the only time i dont like long asks is when readers are requesting something---i dont like that at all :/ but youre not doing that!!! youre talking about your experience in reading my works and it really really warms my heart reading through it

OH NO T__T i cant even imagine. my countrys temperature never falls below 25-30°C so i cant even imagine surviving outside when the numbers are NEGATIVE T__T

the first part was absolutely unnecessary HAHA but thank you for justifying it. My hopeless crush wormed in and i wrote too much to just delete it sigh…

now for your question--scara moved out and essentially left the reader. it was more of a reference to scaramouche's canon backstory. he felt hurt that ei left him! and now, he's leaving the person he cares about. of course, in my head, he would assume that you'd feel what he felt. its why i put scaras mommy issues in the tags hahaha

im glad you like their interaction!! i loved writing their banter so much. i love writing scara talking to anyone in general because the way he talks is the way i think irl LOL

im so glad you also like the "you think i'd settle for less than you" line!!! ill tell u a secret. a few minutes before posting the fic it wasn't even there, but after reading through it i thought it would fit perfectly with the way i wrote scaramouche's character :D

and im so glad u pointed out the pacing!!! in all honesty i am far from confident with my pacing. i never know if im doing it right so thank u so much for saying that!!!!!!!! T__T <3 i dont know if i should clap for the late train for letting you read in peace? ??

LMFAOOO IM SO SORRY. this is exactly why i avoid reading fanfiction out in public even if i dont read smut. these strangers cannot know that i read about scaramouche kissing me.

and also fun fact!!!!! in the previous author note, it was not written that way. let me show you proof!! i cant find it rn but ill go into the version history version of my docs :D

AHHH that quote is so real im stealing that sorry. Everytime someone brings up why i dont write xiao enough ill pull that up !!!!! i know exactly what u mean :/

and about a part two… some people are already asking for it but i just don't do part twos T__T unless its stated in the fic that there's another part coming--it means that that's it…… your imagination will probably do better than whatever i can cook anyway !!!

#i rlly rlly do appreciate long asks when u guys talk abt ur thoughts ab my stuff :( #thank u again #606:inbox #606: iamjustaslytherinrose #long post

[masterqwertster]

#33. Power Word: Pain, with Orym.

Maybe a capture and interrogation situation? Getting thrown back into a cell afterward with a couple of protective friends would be nice too. 🥺

Ah, yes. The torture spell.

33 Power Word: Pain

You speak a word of power that causes waves of intense pain to assail one creature you can see within range. If the target has 100 hit points or fewer, it is subject to crippling pain. Otherwise, the spell has no effect on it. A target is also unaffected if it is immune to being charmed.

While the target is affected by crippling pain, any speed it has can be no higher than 10 feet. The target also has disadvantage on attack rolls, ability checks, and saving throws, other than Constitution saving throws. Finally, if the target tries to cast a spell, it must first succeed on a Constitution saving throw, or the casting fails and the spell is wasted.

A target suffering this pain can make a Constitution saving throw at the end of each of its turns. On a successful save, the pain ends.

The worst part about the spell Orym's been afflicted with is that the pain is, quite literally, all in his head.

So when he's returned to the cell, the interrogation session concluded, there's no wound to sooth in the aftermath. Well, not beyond the superficial scratches and bruises from his pained writhing. And yet the ghost of that intense pain lingers, bolstered by the knowledge that it can revisit him every day, every eight hours, sooner if they have enough mages with the spell.

As he lays there, breathing, a fairly large rat scurries up. And it's strange. He could almost swear there's moss in its fur-

Suddenly Fearne is in the cell with him.

"Hey, best friend," she whispers, stroking his sweaty face.

"Hey, Fearnie," Orym sighs back, a smile gracing his lips. He'd honestly expected to hear Bells Hells coming for him before he actually saw them.

"Let's get you out of here," Fearne says, ruffling his hair. Orym gives a lolling nod in reply. "This might be a little weird, but just trust me, okay?"

Orym nods again. He trusts Fearne. Trusts her with his life. (Though not with shiny objects)

Warm, fey magic washes over him and Orym doesn't resist.

When he blinks his eyes open, the world is even bigger than usual. Fearne's hooves are bigger than him right now.

"I don't know how much you can understand me right now, but just stick with me, okay?" Fearne whispers, crouched down by her mouse-ified friend.

With another twist of magic, Fearne's own form collapses back into a rat. A little sniffing and whisker touching to help assure mouse-Orym that it's alright, and then she scurries off with him right on her tail.

It doesn't take them long at all to make their escape. No one is looking for a pair of rodents, after all.

Once Fearne has guided Orym back to where the rest of Bells Hells are hidden in an alleyway with view of the building he was held captive in, she drops both polymorph and her own wild shape. It only takes a moment to scoop Orym into her arms for a cuddle as the others gather around in a defensive formation.

"Not to be ungrateful or anything," Orym mumbles out to the group, "but I really didn't expect you guys to stealth a rescue."

"Eh, we just figured it'd be easier to get rid of them all by blowing up the building. Which meant we had to get you out first," Chetney explains with a shrug.

"Speaking of. Laudna," Ashton says, pacing to the end of the alley with the undead sorceress on their heels.

Orym watches as Ashton stills on the edge of the street, fiddling with the position of their recently upgraded hammer. After a few moments of eyeing and adjusting, they give Laudna a thumbs up.

Laudna's hands twist in a spell as she chants lowly before a bead of fiery light shoots forth from her hands, passing through the crystalline additions to the hammer, resulting in a truly enormous fireball.

Ashton and Chet both whistle in appreciation at the destruction caused as Laudna giddily claps her hands and Fearne gives an awed 'ooooh.'

Orym... thinks he's glad that his friends are on his side. Because they are obviously terrifying arsonists when left to their own devices.

The fireball idea came from this post. Who knows if this is how it would actually work, but it's fun to pretend!

#MQ&A #MQfic #critical role #orym of the air ashari #bells hells #spell hurt/comfort prompt

[treestargarden]

Permanent Plague

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Warnings: self-harm, semi-public sex, praise, degradation, biting, non-permanent marking, trans!Hawks, cis!Touya, Touya has a Jacob’s Ladder and Prince Albert, breeding kink (if you squint), threats of murder/violence, cannibalism imagery, slaughterhouse imagery (but no actual gore), previous fight mentioned, Touya has burn scars over 70% of his body, self-deprecation, sadism/masochism, predator/prey kink, smoking a cigarette, Touya has a split tongue, Hawks cries, implied inexperience (for Hawks), Shigaraki is there at the end lol, quirkless au, train hoppers au, mafia au 

Summary/Context: Touya and Hawks have known each other since childhood, but were separated as young teens. As adults, they find their paths cross again and Touya isn’t going to let this one chance go to waste.

A/N: I am enamored by the Dabi x Hawks ship, but I find that a lot of people characterize it as very flluffy. This is my take on the ship. Full of desperation, violence, covetous passion juxtaposed by a gentleness that is utterly foreign to Touya. Also, this is very specifically Touya rather than Dabi. If you want an idea of the imagery I accompany with this one-shot, check out @/elegiesforshiva dabihawks art (there’s a specific red string of fate one that I think fits the mood perfectly). I have a playlist I write DabiHawks to that can be found here. DO NOT REPOST

Words: 3.5k | NSFW/18+ ONLY (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Touya’s teeth squeaked with tension, Aren’t you supposed to be good at your job, bird brain? He stretched his arms and an obnoxious yawn curled into the air in the small room. His face scrunched into a leer; the image of beauty certainly. “Let’s stretch our legs. I have a feeling ima work through the night.” 

“Lead the way, I like having the option to slip a knife into your back.” 

Touya's eyes sparkled with mock pain, “What, you haven’t hurt me enough? Gotta sink that humiliation in just a little more, eh?” A dull thunk followed them into the hallway after Touya closed the door behind him.

A pair of boots tup, tup against the concrete flooring. Hawks' footsteps were nonexistent beside Touya's. They walked in sync for a few moments before Hawks, true to his word, slowed his pace to tail Touya instead. He took note of the promise made true, but otherwise offered no reaction.

“Room could be bugged. What the fuck–” he mimed shaking Hawks by his temples,”was that? Aren’t you supposed to be quick-witted, quick reflexes…” he rattled off several other words that meant fast. “I thought you were good at being… you,” his voice softened on the last word and shifted his eyes to focus on the end of the empty corridor.

“Who broke whose ribs?”

When Touya made no effort to retort, Hawks continued, “Ah, that was–” he stopped himself mid-explanation. Touya peered at him, but otherwise made no further comment. Momentary silence. “I was thinking about something else,” Hawks eventually offered. 

A hand elongated Touya's features as he swiped it down his face with annoyance, “You’re lucky you have broken ribs, otherwise I would jab you in them for the lame fuckin’ answer.”

A scarred hand scrounged in his pocket. The rough edges of the fabric rubbed against the soft tissue. But his extensive nerve damage meant he couldn't recognize the abrasive texture against his skin. He fished out his golden flip-lighter. Slender fingers with silver and black jewelry decorated the lengths of each section. The metal reflected the indoor lighting as he plucked the half-smoked cig from behind his ear. Cigarette between his teeth, he teased Hawks, “You owe me a new car cig lighter, birdie." His neck stretched to retrieve the patient, hot flame in his fist.

Hawks lifted his chin like he was superior to the antics Touya threw at him, “I don’t owe you shit. You threw that out for fun.” His hands disappeared casually into his jacket pockets. The silence Hawks mastered so easily made Touya’s skin crawl; made him feel like he was being stalked. The fluorescent lighting above buzzed between Touya's ears.

Touya shook his head, “You’re dangerous even while tied up and injured. I’ve watched you fight,” a mild reminder of their past. Touya had always watched. Will continue to watch. 

“Don’t use me as your scapegoat. You’re a violent person who is wildly unpredictable.” Hawks threw cursory glances behind them as they walked. Always watched, but never saw what was in front of him. For a man who wanted to go fast, he had a tendency to look behind him a lot. 

Who are you leaving behind, Hawks? 

A sardonic laugh accompanied his retort, “Why would I throw something out I could use for ‘self-immolation’ purposes,” he scrunched his fingers in air quotes while he repeated Hawks words. 

He sensed they had enough distance between them and any possible surveillance in the server room. Touya's rough whisper repeated the information from before, “I said there are three of us you need to watch out for. Including me.” He glanced over his shoulder and observed Hawks’ reaction to the new information.

Touya wouldn’t kill him. Not yet. But if Shouto really was at the compound and it came between his versus Hawks’ safety? There was no competition. There would be no hesitation. 

Hawks’ glance met Touya’s in that moment and they both understood what the other was willing to do if it meant their individual lives were spared. It was just a matter of fact. This was a favor–Hawks wouldn’t be misled by the intention. 

No quip, Hawks aimed for business, “Who are the other two.”

He inhaled his cigarette, his voice strained when he replied, “The doctor.” 

Okay, that was two guys, “And the third.”

Touya shifted his eyes around the hallway, looked behind and ahead of them. The alcoves were washed in inky shadows. The smoke rings created small targets for Hawks to bounce between.

“They’re important to you, otherwise you would tell me,” Hawks playfully ducked under a smokey bullseye. 

A wrinkle in Touya’s eyebrow and a sneer glanced off his features. Hawks saw through him so easily. A subtle threat muttered, “You won’t meet him unless he’s actively killing you.” He would protect the third man’s identity to the best of his ability. He didn’t want Hawks’ talons on him. 

Hawks put his talons on Touya though. His hand clasped Touya’s shoulder, firm but not threatening.

Of course it was a threat, this was Hawks. If Touya was any other person he would be unable to detect the concealed danger. 

Fuckin’ raptor.

“Can I guess? It isn’t Thumper. We talked just the other day. She gave me her number, did you know that?”

Touya was unbothered by Rumi’s friendliness. If her mission was completed, she treated everybody with kindness. She flipped it like a switch. He was annoyed that she wasn’t more suspicious of Hawks, though, especially because he was a crafty one. But Rumi proved herself capable against Hawks; he needn’t worry about her. 

The silence accentuated Touya’s footfalls. They echoed between the rafters on the ceiling. He could feel Hawks’ piercing gaze on him, like he was a piece of meat to be picked apart. He wasn’t meant to be a slab of meat laid across the table. He hated how it made him feel small.

His voice was sweet–he was anything but, “C’mon. I’ll figure it out,” he coaxed Touya, attempted to loosen him up. “There aren’t that many in your circle,” he felt confident laying out his thought process for Touya out in the open. Touya felt chilled to his bone marrow. The prowess he emanated when he was locked on his target reminded Touya of his childhood admiration of Hawks. He wanted to be devoured. “It wasn’t that sweet boy that interrupted us. Are you that scared of me?”

He was. 

Immediately, Touya halted and took the last drag from his cigarette. A passionate ruby glared from the end and Touya ashed it out on his arm, next to his other fresh lesions. A soft tick hit the floor as he tossed the butt without a second thought. Touya stepped toward Hawks and commanded his personal space. Hawks’ mouth moved–sure to have a snide remark about Touya’s self-harm–but no words came.

“You may figure it out, but I’m not helping you do it sooner.”

Touya continued walking in-step with Hawks until his heels bumped against the opposite wall. A finger taut with scar tissue caressed the edge of Hawks’ stubbled jawline. Touya was a monstrosity, but the gentleness in that touch hinted at a tenderness beneath the carnage and hard exterior.

Hawks’ throat bobbed and his pupils expanded. Touya was unsure if it was desire. Unsure if Hawks ever felt that way about him.

“You do not frighten me, dove,” and a malicious grin split his features, “actually, you excite me.” 

Instantly, Touya knew Hawks had been distracted from his quarry; Shigaraki no longer in danger of discovery.

“What’s’a matter, birdie?” a bastardization of his father’s nickname for Hawks when he was training. “Cat got your tongue?” A twitch in Touya’s fingers implored him to feel more. His thumb traveled the length of Hawks jaw and down his throat. Touya glimpsed at the space they shared between their chests. He smiled viciously, “Gotta admit I’m a li’l disappointed you don’t have your knife pulled on me.” 

One agonizingly infinite heartbeat later, Touya leaned his face next to Hawks’; warm breath stirred the air near his ear, “Have you gone soft on me?” When he pulled away, he glanced at Hawks tender lips. He pulled Hawks by the chin and he closed the distance between them. Their lips grazed past each other. It didn’t have to mean anything. If Hawks decided to walk away. 

He chased Touya when he pulled away, stretched up on his toes. He chased a high he didn’t know he craved. And then Hawks seared his handprint into Touya’s chest; above his heart. 

If the kiss was the gasoline, then Hawks’ brand was the match that ignited a decade-long repressed desire hidden deep within Touya. 

Instantly, Touya shifted Hawks’ hand to wrap around his shoulder and devoured Hawks. Marred hands reached for Hawks' thighs and lifted them around his waist. 

Utter silence from Hawks, so Touya’s reassurance is more for himself than for the asshole with him, “You say stop, and I’ll stop.” He’s pretty confident he’ll know if Hawks doesn’t want him anymore. 

The tips of Touya’s tongue are needy and sloppy. They caress each side of Hawks tongue, threatened to drink him in. Only the ambrosia that Hawks fed him will satisfy his long-standing famine. He’s breathing hard into Hawks mouth, unable to contain the desire engulfing him. Hawks matched him with just as much desperation. Agile fingertips pulled at Touya's skin on his back, his waist, his hips, his chest. His fingers were everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

Touya rolled his hips languidly into Hawks. Want–needed–Hawks to be aware of the desire he inspired. A sultry and wanton moan was cradled in the back of Hawks' throat. The first real thing Touya had ever received from Hawks. And he felt the greed spark in his chest that implored him to keep it all to himself. The non-fictitious version of Hawks was Touya’s to claim. 

They were in the middle of a long corridor, late at night. Anybody who walked past the hall would be able to see them. Hawks had abandoned any sense of self-preservation.

Pinpricks of pain at his scalp caused a cold hiss of breath to stir the air between them. A skillful hand wrapped itself in Touya’s hair. And then he was being constricted into Hawks’ embrace. The wetness between his legs was evident. 

Hawks was clothed beneath Touya, but his scent was heady and enraptured Touya's senses. He wanted to swim in all Hawks had to offer. Their surroundings melted from sight. Hawks was his only focus. 

In their fever of passion their teeth click, click against each other, and it encouraged both of them. His shirt was tugged from his chest in increasingly impatient intervals. The soft hums Hawks breathed into Touya is a lifeforce unmatched that ignited a flashfire in Touya's gut.

From his mouth to his ear, Touya licked sloppy kisses, “Touya. Call me Touya. I want my name in your mouth when I make you cum.” Some deep part of himself wanted Hawks to yell it with abandon–wild anguish, starved wanton need. Needed people to know who he was so long as Hawks pronounced it. 

The skin at the junction between Hawks’ neck and shoulder was soft, pliant. Ravenous teeth sunk in with reckless violence. The whimpering sounds and the dramatic jump ripped from Hawks fueled his fire further. Several sharp stings were littered across his abdomen and he muffled a whine into Hawks’ skin. Wicked little fingernails dug crescents into Touya’s wrinkled and scarred skin. 

He retaliated with a particularly rough thrust, his hardness stroked against the wet spot between Hawks’ legs. His chest rumbled with the drawn-out moan that quickly followed, “Fuuuuuuuuu–” 

As if brought back to life, Hawks–the little minx–shyly stuttered Touya’s name. Urged Touya to fuck him like he meant it when he squeezed him closer with his legs. 

Dopamine crashed through Touya’s system in response. He growled into Hawks’ ear, “You sound so dumb saying my name and I don’t even have you bouncing on my cock yet, little dove.” His fingers pinched Hawks’ inner thighs and he adjusted Hawks’ weight against the wall so their chests were level with each other.

A knee slid underneath Hawks’ ass to support his weight, “Hang on tight,” was his only warning before he swung Hawks’ ankles over his shoulders. His feet held upright in the air on each side of Touya’s head.

Clever fingers bunched the fabric of Hawk’s pants and pulled them up swiftly. The offensive fabric was thrown to the floor next to his feet without ceremony. An ankle flopped to the side and then gravity weighed it down to splay against Touya’s bicep. He smirks at Hawks’ pitiable arrangement of limbs, “Can’t even support yourself can you, dove?” Touya’s knee was replaced by a hand and he pressed Hawks between the solid, cold wall and his yielding, warm frame.

“Touya,” Hawks pouted again. Degenerate little fingers tugged at the button on his pants once again. 

“Greedy little dove, aren’chya. So eager to see me sink into your tight little hole, hmm?”

While Hawks’ fingers struggled with the button of his pants, Touya collected Hawks’ wetness upon his fingers. Hawks' hips canted into the sensation and the heat in Touya’s gut coiled with hunger. He inhaled Hawks’ musk that lingered along his fingers. Slender pink tongue tips slithered out for a taste, “Is this all for me?” A sharp hiss of breath reverted his attention back to Hawks. He admired the pierced cock laying across his mound. 

Touya smirked, “Go ahead, you can touch it, dove.” 

Eager fingers wrapped around his length and roughly jerked him. The piercings on the underside and head were yanked sharply by the dry skin of Hawks’ hand, “Hey, hey, easy, not so rough, shit.” Touya was entertained by the impulsiveness Hawks displayed, but the slightly uncomfortable burn momentarily took him out of the mood. 

The head was still flushed pink and the veins along the topside were visible with the tautness of his skin. It glistened with Hawks’ wetness as Touya used it to lube himself up. He soothed his ladder piercings and the one at his head with quick circles around the tender skin. 

He shallowly rocked his hips into Hawks. His Prince Albert caressed the head of Hawks' clit. The shockwaves of want that shook Hawks’ thighs made Touya growl with possessiveness. This was his.

A rough hand cupped Hawks’ ass and the other guided his cock that took one, two test strokes–cockhead ghosted kisses over Hawks’ hole–and then speared him. An unintelligible exclamation echoed through the hallway. The lights above flickered haphazardly. Each of the men panted hard breaths into the pocket of space shared between them. 

The sharp stings of Hawks’ nails bit into Touya’s damaged skin at his hip. The length of his slender throat was exposed and Touya’s mouth watered at the sight. A dull ache at his tail bone throbbed as Hawks’ heels dug into his tender muscles. He swallowed Touya’s cock with warm fervor, “More,” he begged into an attentive ear, “Harder,” he demanded. 

Touya steadied Hawks in one arm and a thumb traveled across Hawks’ sweat-slick abdomen and sank between his legs. Slow circles traced around his clit caused Hawks’ eyes to roll back into his head, mouth hung open. Touya's thrusting paused so he could focus on stimulating Hawks, “You sound so fuckin pretty when you tell me what to do,” his split tongue stiffly trailed up Hawks cheek and left a sloppy trail of saliva on his peachy skin, “Say ‘please.’”

The pathetic mewls below him were music to his ears and beat the fire steady in his groin while he sat still. Touya was overcome with the obsession to swallow Hawks. Eat everything he was willing to give him until he was a begging, sloppy mess. Fuck him so good he was just a bobbing empty head, thoughts unwilling to breach the surface of his fucked-out mind.

Touya didn’t need to wait long before Hawks responded immediately, “Good boy,” he grunted. 

The guttural moans Hawks rewarded Touya with signaled his successful ministrations, “Please,” he says yet again. 

He permitted no time for Touya to respond. The heels of Hawks boots felt like molten steel on his back. Evidence of Hawks’ permanent effect on Touya’s fate. And he thrived with the thrill of Hawks ruining him. Wanted to be equally fucked up by Hawks. His greedy hole clenched around him–demanded he continue fucking into him, “Please.”

As fast as he could respond, Touya’s forehead met Hawks’ and the force he pistoned his hips with made their heads bob in rhythmic tandem. The position and Hawks’ combined weight didn’t lend themselves to much space, so Touya only pulled out one or two inches before he slammed back into Hawks. 

He dropped his head to the joint between Hawks’ shoulder and neck and latched onto the soft skin–angry red and purple bruises blossomed across the surface. Delicate control was necessary to keep himself from breaking the skin. Making Hawks remember their tryst made the beginnings of his orgasm pool at the base of his cock.

Touya’s burning gaze returned to Hawks’ scrunched face. His eyes were glassy and there were twin wet trails that ran down the slope of each supple cheek. Touya crooned at the pathetic display, “Are you crying, sweet dove?” His voice was low and gravelly with concern. His eager tongue swiped up Hawks’ nearest cheek and salt sprang across his taste buds. Hawks was always so poised. The only other time Touya had seen Hawks sob was when he spied on him during disarmament practice in the private dojo at the far-end of his childhood home. 

He flicked the head of Hawks’ clit with a soft fingertip and it earned him another squeeze around his cock. It made his head swim. Their fucking was sloppy and messy and the hedonism tickled Touya when he reveled in the wet schk, schk, schk of his balls that slapped against Hawks’ ass.

Hawks relaxed enough so his forehead fell forward onto Touya’s. The hair tangled in wet clumps. He tasted Hawks’ delicious and broken sobs. Hardly a second passed before he gathered a handful of words on his tongue, “Touya–I need–Please!” any word that came to mind and was short enough to pronounce, he grabbed and tossed into the air. 

Touya’s hips and thumb stuttered. They threatened to lose their momentum. But he couldn’t stop. He would hold on for Hawks. As long as he needed him to.

Touya’s nose traced a ghostly trail from Hawks’ cheek to his ear, “What is it, pigeon? Use your words. Tell me what you need.”

The hallway smelled of sweat and desperate sex. Touya needed Hawks to abandon his self-control–join him in the sweet expanse of chaos and self-destruction. Wanted Hawks to give into the urges that would hurtle him towards the edge. Touya would meet him once he falls over. Touya would catch him. Even if it was just this once. 

A sharp quiet squeal as Hawks got closer, “Touya!” his voice broke on the last syllable of Touya’s name. A gasp wracked his chest as his legs shook violently between Touya’s arms. His hands twitched across Touya’s back and his hips worked to milk the cock buried deep inside him.

Touya’s eyes rolled back and his fingertips stamped small constellations of bruises on Hawks plush thighs. Something to reconcile later. Hawks heels pinned Touya’s hips against him, trapped him in a possessive vice. The wildfire erupted into a whoosh and Touya fucked into Hawks until his cum leaked down his shaft and between his own thighs. He grimaced at the sensation, but held Hawks aloft regardless. 

“C’mon, birdie. Let’s get your pants back on.” 

Lithe fingers clung to Touya’s shirt in conscious desperation. The moment too quickly passed. Then Hawks’ legs gave out and he sunk delicately to the floor. A shaky hand rubbed tiredly at the skin around his closed eyes. He willed some form of reality to enter his system.

The hairs on Touya’s neck raised when he anticipated they were no longer alone. Then he became aware of shuffled footsteps behind him. The presence wasn’t one Touya experienced often, but it is recognizable. 

Touya’s eyes pinched closed in panic and his knuckles pressed stars into the void of his vision. This was the last thing that he needed to happen. Hawks was hot on Shigaraki’s trail before Touya fucked him up against the wall. Surely, Hawks was no idiot, no matter how spaced out he seemed. He would deduce who was the third person watching Hawks closely. 

What a waste.

“This isn’t,” the voice was scratchy yet familiar, “what I expected.”

#dabihawks #hotwings #smut #touya todoroki x keigo takami #my writing #my smut #ahhh fuck i can't believe i'm actually sharing this #this is literally my first written smut piece #i really love themes of cannibalism when i write from touyas pov #i just want it to seem like hawks is out of reach and touya is desperately reaching for him #yknow bc of endhawks #like hawks end goal #his happy ending #is enji #but touya just desperately wants a chance #and this is his love letter to hawks body #its so fuckin bittersweet #and hes a tortured soul #i love torturing touya #its my fave hobby #scream at me in the tags or smth #tell me how tortured u feel lol #lmao this looks so fucked up on desktop #yell at me if it is

[whifferdills]

regeneration stories rated

"Caves of Androzani" (no one has ever bothered to top this. as good as this show ever gets. the inevitability of it, the relentless pacing, the villain. the fact that it's just another adventure of the week but this time Dr Who's luck ran out. all of the cruft and slack of 80's DW tossed out in favor of muscular, workmanlike storytelling. Great television in, like, a normal way)

"The Tenth Planet" (iconic, the originator. the first and most terrifying appearance of the Cybermen. kind of the opposite of Androzani in terms of like, the sense that this is finally a threat overwhelming enough that our tour guide isn't going to make it through)

the TV movie (perfunctory death scene, i appreciate the VNA-adjacent 7 though. everything else is Cinema. fine art. if you don't like it you can go to hell.)

"The Parting of the Ways" (extremely RTD finale when his shtick was still fresh. the closest the show has come to pulling off 'epic' but still kind of homey and sweet)

"The War Games" (overlong and messy but my god the Lore. the reverberating implications.)

"The Power of the Doctor" (jumbled, niche, and determined to cement the messages of the era if not its individual "canon" "plotlines". Chibnall at his self-referential shorthand, classic-Who-adoring, slapdash most. not best, perhaps, but definitely most.)

"Planet of the Spiders" (Buddhist parable with a bonkers chase scene. Like, c'mon)

"Twice Upon a Time" (some great moments, some shit moments, some unearned emotional beats that land nevertheless. the duality of Moffat, etc)

"Logopolis" (imo the weakest of the three-parter but it's got some quality bits and i LOVE the concept of the Watcher)

"The Night of the Doctor" (great to see Paul McGann in his little post-Dark Eyes outfit, appreciate the official tv canonification of BF companions, kind of like….don't get it, otherwise.)

"The Time of the Doctor" (eh)

"Time and the Rani" (6 i am so sorry…..i do love Kate O'Mara though so there's that)

"The End of Time" (extremely RTD finale after a series of specials designed to drain me of the last of my good will towards his shtick. it's slick and technically well-made but i hate it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

#dr who #my opinions are objectively correct

[deadrayg2mf]

The Dalwick Demon by Ashley Bennett

Um, I guess that's just how the image is going to show up then... sorry it kind of kills the normal format... anyways... I read this; it was another recommendation. This is one of those books where the review is no fun to read cause it's just "eh" and that's all there is to it.

This follows Iris who right off the bat is getting thrown into a deep cave accused of prostitution, thievery, and witchcraft - only two of which, she declares, are true. There she meets Selvyn, the Demon of Dalwick Cave. He is (what I'm sure is supposed to be impressive but leans more towards terribly ordinary) 6', with red skin, horns, and - for the first time in my monster fucker career, a beard. As Iris puts it, he's a perfect rendition of the devil, in looks that is.

Selvyn is very kind... I'm going to stop before I try and scrape the bottom of the barrel to try and enlighten these characters to you. This book is so fast paced that there really isn't a thing that sticks out from the plot, the characters, or anything other than how it's constantly moving forward and forward, and soon enough you're tripping over yourself trying to keep up with how fast this book is moving through this whole entire emotional escapade in 110 pages.

I like the premise and where it could go, I think the characters could be really good - the issue is that neither them nor you are given enough time with any of the elements to actually feel like something worthwhile was made of the very brief time you spend in each instance. To quote my trusted colleague, a best friend who got the short end of the stick and has to hear me ramble about every book I read, MIZZ TANKZ: "You're trying to build a story with great emotional prose, but you're not allowing any time to do it so it's like okay ?" Which is the best way to put it. Iris and Selvyn have issues, amazing, glorious, eat your heart out issues that I would love to see delved into and unpacked... instead they get a quick little blurb and there's no real payoff to it actually getting mentioned. It quite literally feels like "I deserve to be here as punishment for my mother's death.... (insert like one thing that someone says) ah yes, easy peasy I am healed and can move on" WHAT????

Anyways, it's a quick read if you need to kill some time but it's nothing that I would suggest putting in front of other books. It does have smut and that was pry the best part. 4/10

Would I read again? Maybe if it ever got reworked and fleshed out... otherwise no.

Would I recommend? If you need something to read quick and aren't too worried about being wowed, sure.

#monster fudger #smut books #monster lover #monster fucker #book review #bad read #4/10 #i just wish there was more #it felt so #meh #eh #eugh #bleh #i think this could have been good #if it hadn't been dampened down so much #the dalwick demon #ashley bennett #demon fucker #the devil with a beard #flesh the book out and I would give it a second chance #too fast paced

[fallowtail]

Ghosts and/or WWDITS for the TV series ask game!! 👻🧛🏼‍♂️

GHOSTS TIME

Favourite character: Hetty. Hetty. Hetty. Have you guys heard about Hetty Woodstone???? Funniest character: Hetty...this is going to be a trend in all of my answers. What do you mean Ghosts isn't the Hetty Show? I'm pretty sure it is. But man Hetty gets such amazing lines and Rebecca's delivery is always so fucking funny, her vocal shifts are hilarious. Second runner up is probbbbably Isaac! I love when he asks a question and then acts like he totally also knows the answer, of course, he's just making sure you know. Best-looking character: Hetty again sorryyyy like LOOK at her! That dress! Her hair! Her bustle!! Queen!!! The way she holds herself is so perfect. 3 favourite ships: Hetty/Trevor!!!!!!!!, Sam/Jay, Hetty/Flower Least favourite character: I honestly don't have one...even the side characters in this show I enjoy immensely. Agh. I guess maybe the skeezy Woodstone-estate guy? He wasn't really fun to watch Least favourite ship: Pete/Alberta :[ It's the only one I don't really enjoy at this point because of how Pete is acting towards her in canon. I can still enjoy it in fanon, for sure, but it's the one "might-go-canon" ship that I really hope doesn't at this point unless they do some major reworking of it. It's getting hard to watch Pete repeatedly make Alberta uncomfortable and then still want him to win her over, as someone who has had to deal with "Nice Guys" like how Pete is acting in this situation in the past who won't take no for an answer...it's not as charming as I think the show thinks it is, which is my main issue with it. I’m not sure if it’s being intentionally written where Pete is doing something he shouldn’t be or if it’s being written with the intention of it being cute? I don't want to bash the ship though, of course, I don't have any huge problem with it or think it's too terrible, it's just not really what I want to see. If they can give us a plot where Pete realizes he’s not respecting Alberta when she tells him no and backs off and it’s shown as a character growth molent for him I might warm up to it, but for now…eh. I'm pretty heavily neutral on all the ships otherwise! Reason why I watch it: There's just something about it, I really don't know what it is. It's so cute and funny and the pacing is really bad at times but it's just so fun to watch the entire time it's on. I love every single one of the characters so much, the chemistry between the cast is just amazing and you can tell how much fun they're having. I think what really drew me into it was that the way the characters are written and the concept behind them is similar to the way I approach my own ocs. I just love the idea of them being ghosts who cannot interact with the world at all, and who are just stuck together in this forced found family, a group of people who have no business interacting with each other but they are and they all have so much in common because at the end of it all they're just people, people have always been people, etc...it's just really fun and the fandom is so sweet, I have had more fun in this tiny ass little fandom than I have had with any other in yearssss. Why I started watching it: I had seen trailers for it when it was first coming out (CBS is the channel that's always on in the breakroom at work), and though "oh wow, that looks right up my alley" because of the combination of "supernatural beings but also they're all just. normal guys. Blessed with suck!" but then I didn't get around to watching it for a year because I was too fixated on other stuff still to want to commit to something else. Aghhh! I wish I had picked it up sooner!!

#replies #thecryptidbard #cbs ghosts

[cherryluvrx3]

meat lovers amirite??

Dave Strider x Reader X Karkat Vantas

Chapter 3

I stopped pacing around the room when I heard the doorbell ring. I practically ran to the door then stopped just in front to compose myself. Straighten out my clothes and pat my hair down and take a deep breath before I opened the door.

Dave, who was waiting on the other side, heard the heavy footsteps of someone running to the door.

‘Am I gonna get jumped??’

The pause.

‘Maybe they had a change of heart.’

The deep breath.

‘No they’re definitely getting ready to fight me.’

And the door opened to reveal a.. sweaty, nervous looking dude- the same one from last time actually.

“Uh..” Dave quickly peaked behind them and didn’t see anyone else, hiding or otherwise. “Your friends didn’t set you up like last time?” He smiled albeit a bit nervously.

“Oh! No I eh.. just.. asked for you myself..”

“..really?”

“Yeah really..”

“…”

Awkward….

“….Right.. well your total is $9.99..” Dave took out the pizza from his little pizza carrier.

“Hopefully it isn’t burnt this time.” I joked and Dave seemed to look surprised.

“Wait really? Your pizza was burnt last time?”

“Uh yeah, like half of the pepperoni was singed. I mean my friend ate it anyway but still.” I said and took note of how he looked sort of confused.

“Yeah that’s.. kinda weird? My friend is the one who makes the pizzas and he usually follows the Pizza Hut pizza making regulations like, word for word. Sort of like a perfectionist? I feel like if he burnt a pizza he would’ve remade it. Or are these false accusations you're putting on my bro’s name?” Dave questioned with a quirked brow and crossed arms.

“No?? Why would I lie about that dude?” I laughed.

“Well I mean, you didn’t call to replace it either.”

“Yeah ‘cause my friend already tore that shit up.” I snickered and pulled out a $10 bill to pay him. He seemed more relaxed now, smiling as he took the money.

“Oh, keep the change, buy yourself something nice.” I winked. “Well aren't you made of money? Sure you can give so much to little ol’ me?” He chuckled and pocketed the bill. “I have more money than I know what to do with man.” I lied confidently as if this pizza didn’t use up the rest of the money I had for the week. “Ha! Have a good one. I’ll let you know if anyone I know needs a sugar daddy or something.” He laughed and walked off.

I closed the door.

Hehehehehe!!!!!

I giggled and tossed the pizza on the counter, running to my couch and flopping down to text the group chat, my legs kicking behind me.

Me

-GUYS

-GUYS OMGGG

Roxy <3

-wat wat wat!!!

Me

-I talked to him :3

Roxy <3

-wooo!!! yeah baby!!

Tezi >:]

-Ok… and?

Me

-wym

Gamz :o)

-so what else

Me

-I just

-Talked to him

-Idk what you want me to say

Nepetita :3

-(Y/n)!!! You have to do more than just TALK to get close to him!! *Nepeta pouts and taps her foot*

Me

-IDK WGAF TO DO!!??

-Like I think,, laughing with him and making small talk is a good start righttt

Roxy <3

-yep def a good start

Tezi >:]

-Stop feeding into their delusions!!

Roxy <3

-what i do? 😭

Tezi >:]

-You’re coddling them and letting them take baby steps! They need to make big jumps to make progress >:/ you could’ve asked what school he goes to, how old he is, when his birthday is, his work schedule, his address or

-Or something!!

Gamz :o)

-yeppp exactly what she said

-remember I said ya gots to take risks babe

Me

-mannn >:/ let me take baby steps

Roxy <3

-yea!! theres norhing wrong with wanting to tske things slow and easy

-its better rhan them coming off as desperate tbh

Nepetita :3

-I guess… but still!! You have to do a little better than having a short pleasant conversation with him okie?? At the end of the day we want you to be happy but you gotta try to okie??

Me

-Yeahhhh :/

-I guess I can like.. go to the actual place and try to chat him up there then ask for his number?

Gamz :o)

-mhm that’s a good idea lil mama

Me

-Yeeeshhh I’m just so like nervous cuz he’s like… so cool

-Like what if he thinks I’m a loser and laughs in my face

-I think I would die

Tezi >:]

-Then fuck that guy!!!

Roxy <3

-yeah I don’t rhink you gotta worry bout nothing

-like I’m very sure if that happens terezi and gamzee r gonna stuff him in a oven 💀

Gamz :o)

-fuck yeah we will

Nepetita :3

-don’t be nervous! You’re literally so epic! I purrmise he’s gonna end up liking you beclaws who wouldn’t!!

Me

-dawwww :>

-ty little meow meow

Nepetita :3

-:3 *hugs you*

Me

-*accepts hug*

Tezi >:]

-*TEARS HUG APART

-*GRABS (Y/N) BY SHOULDERS AND SHAKES THEM*

-YOU CAN DO THIS

-YOU BETTER DO THIS

-BECAUSE WE’RE ALL TIRED OF YOU COMPLAINING OF NOT HAVING A BOYFRIEND

Me

-Okay okay!!

-I’ll try harder

-not today or tomorrow tho

-soon tho!! I swear

-I got missing work too do remember

-but yeah I’ll try harder

Roxy <3

-great :)))

I sigh and toss my phone on the couch while I get up to eat the pizza that’s probably gone a bit cold now.

Yeah I’ll definitely approach him better. Someday.

Damn this pizza is burnt again?

———

The bell on the door jingled as Dave entered the store. He tossed the keys back to Aradia who was looking through a crusty magazine from 2015.

“Do you want me to take over deliveries again? We got two more calls.”

“Uh yeah but stay here for a bit? Need to chat with Karkat real quick ‘fore I man the phones again.”

“…but the customers need their pizzas.” She looked at him with a strangely intense gaze.

“Uh.. they can wait a few minutes bro. It’s not the end of the world.” He nervously joked before dipping to the back.

“Hey kat.” He greeted his friend who just finished boxing a pizza. “Oh. What do you want Dave?” He grumbled and moved the pizza to the counter for Aradia to grab.

“So the guy I delivered to just told me the craziest thing. That the pizza they got a few days ago was actually..” Dave paused for dramatic effect, “burnt..” he slapped his hand over his mouth in faux surprise.

Karkat visibly stiffened.

Dave didn’t notice though because he was more focused on teasing Karkat.

“I thought your pizzas were your ‘works of art’? Your ‘babies’? And you burnt one? What if this affects the store's reviews huh?” He laughed and elbowed Karkat.

It was then he noticed the strange look of guilt on Karkat’s face.

“Uh..dude?”

“..it was a mistake. So what if some schmuck got a burnt pizza?” He grumbled and went off to look for something to occupy his hands.

“Well yeah I wasn’t accusing you of doing it on purpose,” Dave paused and turned to look at Karkat, “did you.. do it on purpose..?” He asked, with a confused smile.

“AGH!”

uh oh.

“WHO CARES!?”

here it comes.

“GET OUT! GET OUT!! GO DO YOUR FUCKING JOB DICKBAG STRIDER!”

Karkat snapped and shoved Dave out the kitchen and back to the front of the store.

Before Dave could try to talk to him again, Karkat already rushed to the break room and slammed the door shut.

“…”

“.. I will go deliver the pizzas now.” Aradia got up quickly, snatching the two pizza boxes and leaving.

Dave checked the clock to see how long he had left on his shift.

2 hours.

Goddamnit.

———

a/n - I sure use "..." a lot... but I like it.. hehe...

idk its just so I can portray the timing of their pauses while they speak and they make a lot of pauses *skull emoji*

also nepeta's contact name is 'nepetita'. I'm mexican and adding "ita" to something is sort of saying "little" in an affectionate way so her contact is saying 'little nepeta' if any of u are confused

#homestuck #homestuck x reader #dave strider x reader #karkat vantas x reader

[starrierknight]

I’m pretty sure you’re a leak reader but just in case, don’t read past here if you don’t:

How do you feel about jjk rn? I feel like Gege is killing everybody and idk there’s subverting expectations and then there is this. Tbh it would be subverting expectations if the sword actually struck Sukuna next chapter.

I am a leaks reader!!!! lololol pls do feel free to come n chat abt leaks/theories abt the plot to me <3

yeahhhhhh icl, I'm kinda sceptical abt where the story is going rn. i wanna put my faith in Gege yk, they are the author who gave us jjk 0, the shibuya incident, and Gojo's past arc.... but it's just a bit eh??

from what i've gathered, it seems like they have meticulously planned certain events in the narrative to the finest detail but kinda string the rest of the plot along?? so everything between a Major Plot Point seems out of place? which is pretty normal for writers, i think many do that... but given that we're approaching the end of the manga, we're all kinda wanting to see what happens for the big finish of an ending.

the pacing of the recent chapters has been a little slow in some areas (imo), and i have a feeling that they may have written themselves into a corner by killing off both Gojo and Higuruma.

i rlly rlly hope that they utilise Itadori more!!!!! that would be exciting, plus i think it would sufficiently subvert our expectations given that... well, Itadori is the MC, but he hasn't really been in the spotlight for a while.

idk it's tough yk. i just don't want Sukuna to have plot armour or be too OP, because otherwise the story gets repeitive if it's... oh a new foe! oh, Sukuna kills them! what a surprise! who could've possibly predicated that!

#[ ✉ ] — reece's mail #[ ☄ ] — dearest hitoride #jjk spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #jjk manga leaks

[dreadlord-mr-son]

Decided I’m going to start posting the Colony AU onto Tumblr as I write it.

Even though it’s self-indulgent twaddle that requires knowledge of several different fandoms and many personal AUs known only to me, my friend, and partially to my mom.

Even though one of the intro characters is an OC I don’t feel I’ve introduced enough on Tumblr yet.

Because A. I’m hoping the knowledge that you’re wading into the deep end with no swimming gear won’t stop all of you B. Good incentive to introduce Wynn and her AUs better, eh? C. I just want to

...still don’t have a real name for the Colony AU yet, so we’re just sticking with the existing tag for now. --- NOTES.

This is a pretty stream of consciousness fic. I’m just having things happen as they happen, I’m not planning anything out. There’s zero attempt to manage pacing. If I go off on a tangent for 3 pages talking about some special interest of mine that’s vaguely relevant. Well. That’s just where we are today

This is my self-indulgent fic paradise.

I have no idea how dark, horny, or otherwise this fic will get, but the main intention is to focus on the struggles of surviving in a world where the only sapient lifeforms in existence are the ones I chuck in for my amusement.

We’re starting with an FMA AU Wynn from my barely-started fic Be Thou For The People (I know it’s hardly a unique FMA fic name. Shush.) and a Wolfwood from a pseudo-modern fantasy verse I call “City AU” based loosely on the unused concept for Zootopia that got written out of the final version. The collar stuff. Only for us, they go on mages with the wrong type of magic.

Enough preamble. Have fic.

---

Part 1 of ?

--- --- ---

When the world crumbled around her and left her standing in that white void once again, she couldn't feel anything for a moment but sheer terror.

Wynn took one step, then another. Emptiness. Her Gate looming behind her, connecting her to the Truth of the world. But Truth wasn't here, not "in person" as it had been last time.

There was no one to greet her. No one to explain what trespass she might have committed in her sleep on the train to Central.

"What the fuck?" she asked the nothingness. With an abruptness that felt like it should have made an audible 'clunk', white was replaced with dark, and Wynn and her Gate started falling.

---

Wynn's memory was a little fuzzy, as she woke. Which was normal enough in the first few seconds of consciousness, so she didn't think much of it. The soft crunch of wild woodgrasses was under her back, and her face was damp with morning dew. Why was she sleeping in the yard this early in the spring? That was a great way to freeze. Though it wasn't that cold for some reason... and what even WAS that bird call? She couldn't recognize the "cheer cheer cheer cheeeeerah" pattern of its song.

Wynn opened her eyes to dark green leaves over her head, heavy and thick in a way the trees definitely weren't in her yard. And even the trees she had weren't whatever this oak-mimic species was. That fruit could NOT be a real apple. The fuck?

Wynn sat up.

She was inside some dense, mixed woodland made mostly of those unknown fruiting trees, and some thick-trunked birch-like species. Mosses and short grasses coated the ground, with tufts of a thicker, taller grass spotting through here and there. There was a clump of it under where her shoulder had been, now half-crushed and reeking as powerfully as upset crabgrass.

Part of Wynn wanted to continue her exploration of the bushes and flowers and all the other strange not-quite familiar plants all around her... but she was hearing the burble of water nearby, and knew that if she was as lost as she thought she was, finding a secure source of water was probably the most important thing she could do.

It wasn't very far, really. The trees had blocked her sight of it, but barely over a small hill was a fat stream flowing through the woods. The water was so clear she could see fat fish darting around through the reeds.

But what froze her in place staring was what was flying above the water, ponderously waddling through the air. It looked like a bee, but was the size of a chicken. It wasn't reacting to her bursting through the brush, at least, but Wynn couldn't help but be wary of a bug that size with the power of flight.

Wynn scuttled a few meters further downstream away from the weird giant bee, and crouched down by the water.

Crystal clear, like glass... but that didn't mean it was safe to drink.

Wynn clapped her hands together and reached for the Truth anchored in her soul. It was strangely more of a strain than usual? Like she had to reach extra far to find it, but she found the sense of the chemistry of a water molecule, gripped it, and reached again, this time for the energy deep in the earth to power her alchemy and pull pure safe drinking water from the stream.

She set her hands on the surface of the water, envisioned the circle she need, and her transmutation exploded in her face.

Wynn screamed and threw herself backwards as blue arcs of power and frothing plumes of water scattered everywhere. Fish flew through the sky, landing in trees with squishy plaps and the survivors thrashed and shook the branches. Wynn hurried away from the chaos in a crab-like backwards crouch. Sure, water alchemy could be complicated and confusing, but pulling pure H2O out of solution was one of the simplest forms of water transmutation that even apprentices could pull off. Sometimes she did it just to dry wet clothes faster.

But somehow it had gone horribly, awfully wrong. It was like she'd both mangled <i>and</i> overpowered her circle.

She hadn't done anything like that since she'd seen Truth. Wynn clutched at her upper arm where her automail joined to her flesh. Years. It had been years and her alchemy had never blown up on her so badly doing a simple transmutation.

Wynn stared down at her hands. That hadn't been like a normal rebound. Basic survival said don't take risks, but science said perform experiments and test things...

Wynn slowly pressed her hands back together, reaching for Truth once again but not starting a transmutation. What had that been? What went wrong?

Knowledge passed by just out of reach of her questing mind. Like fingertips brushing against the fruit you wanted to pull down from the tree. If she could just stretch a little further... Just push a little harder...

A wave of weariness washed over her, and Wynn yanked her hands apart, panting. Every breath burned, like she'd gone running on a hot day. She sat down, forcing her breaths to slow and deepen, listening to the fish flopping in the trees. There was a splash as one of them fell back into the water. Good for him.

It didn't take long for Wynn's energy to come back. She pushed herself up again.

"Okay, right. No alchemy for a bit. Gotta do things the old fashioned way."

---

Wynn had been on her way to Central to turn in her yearly reports and visit her sister, so she hadn't exactly brought any of her yard tools with her. A pocketknife and a strong arm was at least helping her break off and strip some branches to make a lean-to a few minutes walk away from the stream. Uphill, in case it flooded. She wasn't exactly a survivalist, but she knew how fast water could rise in the spring.

It would be a shoddy protection against rain or wind, so she hoped the weather was as gentle tomorrow as it was right now. Even if a warm spring promised for a shitty summer, she didn't want to deal with more typical weather until she either had something more comfortable built, or found her way back to civilization.

A terrified little voice in the back of her mind kept whimpering that it wasn't sure there was any civilization she'd be able to find.

Wynn hadn't seen any smoke through the treetops. Not from houses, or campfires, or from a train winding its way through the mountains. She'd been on the main Central to West City rail line. That train ran multiple times a day. She should have seen some sign of it in the distance if she was anywhere near it.

...if she was anywhere near it, she should be able to recognize the trees and birds around her. The fish. The small mammals scurrying around in the brush. Everything she saw and heard was at least slightly... off. The fish weren't quite trout. She'd grabbed one anyway, for lunch once she got the fire going. It tasted enough like trout, at least. She wouldn't have to worry about starving if she could make some kind of line and hook to work with. The rest of the dead fish she threw back into the water. Let their corpses return to the ecosystem and hopefully make up for killing so many of them by mistake. Also, prevent any predators from following their smell back to her in the night.

Truth, but what sort of predators might be out there in the woods? Bears? Wolves? Unknown things that would look like something she knew between the trees until it was upon her and she realized too late it wasn't anything she knew how to scare away?

Wynn knew she was avoiding the real reason she didn't think she was in Amestris any more.

She didn't want to think about a place that was nowhere and everywhere. White as both death and all the colors of light. About an emptiness that had, the first time, held a smile that wasn't friendly but... understanding, as it explained her trespass and the payment she owed for even attempting to reach past the boundary.

"Shit!" Wynn dropped her knife as the feedback from her automail twanged, sending a random jolt of pain straight into her nerves. She'd been putting off getting her automail tuned again. It was going to be such a big expense, and it hadn't gotten in her way too much yet. A spike of pain here and there didn't keep her from working. The locking fingers could be unlocked with a little grease and wiggling. She could just work around it until she had her budget approval for the year...

She'd thought that up until she had to gut a fish with fingers that felt like they had grit in the joints. And while she did have her basic maintenance kit on her, she was kind of expecting her sister's help the next time she opened things up to do a bit of polishing and bolt tightening.

Wynn tucked one last branch into the web of sticks and leaves and stepped back to have a look at her work. The front was wide open, so if the wind picked up she'd be in trouble, but it should at least keep the rain off and hold in some of her body heat through the night.

So okay, she had a little food, and basic shelter, and access to water. What was next on the list? She hadn't been camping since before she joined the State Alchemy program, and she'd never done any kind of hardass survival camping. Maybe she should scout around a little for landmarks so it would be easier to keep from getting lost?

---

The water was the easiest landmark, so Wynn was following it upstream when she heard the crying.

She followed the hopeless, gulping sobs until she found a young man under a tree. Wearing light-colored summer clothes in a style she didn't recognize, that were soaked through completely. He had a huge rat of a bruise curled around one of his eyes, fresh and still darkening. He was sitting in the moss with his back against the trunk of one of the not-birches, his knees curled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. He looked like a teenager, but he had the body language of a lost six year old.

Wynn stopped several meters away, not wanting to spook him. He should have heard her coming with her heavy boots, but even if the groundcover wasn't muffling her footsteps, he was clearly too lost in his misery to really notice the world around him.

"Hey." Wynn called, "Far from home?"

The crying cut off as the guy's head jerked up to stare at her. Getting a solid look at his face, Wynn adjusted her sense of his age up a little. Older teens. Maybe even of age? His face was still soft and youthful, but a few stray hairs were fighting their way out of his chin.

"Wynn?"

Now it was Wynn's turn to stare. But even as she opened her mouth to respond he was shaking his head, "Sorry, you're not actually her. You look a lot like my friend and-" he hiccuped and swallowed back another sob. "Where is this?"

Wynn shook herself. He thought she looked like his friend. Who shared her name. "I dunno, sorry. I just got here too." As he was starting to lower his head back to his knees, despondent, she added, "Your friend wouldn't be Wynn Fayram, would she?"

He froze, squinting at her suspiciously. "Maybe. Why?"

" 'Cause I'm Wynn Fayram."

"Bullshit."

"No seriously, I even have paperwork with me saying as much."

The guy started to unfold and push himself to his feet. "Why the fuck are you lying to me about something so stupid?"

"I'm not lying. Seriously. I can get the paperwork out for you." Wynn shrugged like this freaky, freaky situation was no big deal.

The paperwork clearly did not help. When she handed it over his glare turned absolutely baffled as his eyes flicked up and down the pages. "What language is this?"

"Amestrian." Wynn answered, just managing to keep the uncertain waver from her voice. "What else would it be?"

"English? Minecraftian? Even dwarvish I guess, not that anyone does official paperwork in that. Too rare, but..." he trailed off, eyes locked on her sign up photo. The first picture she'd had in uniform after passing her State Alchemist license exam. She looked so young... Nineteen years old and sure that a government paycheck was the solution to all of her problems.

It had helped, she told herself now, flexing her gritty automail fingers. Without it how could she have afforded the automail upkeep? Her sister's medical school? The donations to her orphanage? The house she'd moved into when she'd aged out of the system? Her father was never a rich man and his inheritance only stretched so far.

She shook the memories away. It was a terrible time to get lost in thought. Lost together with a teenage boy who apparently couldn't even read Amestrian. <i>A boy who talked like dwarves were real, and named languages she'd never heard of... Was he mad, or was she more lost than she wanted to admit?</i>

He was squinting at her again. Suspicion and contemplation so easy to read on his face. Clearly not a man of guile. she thought, completely ignoring that -- as a friend of Maes Hughes -- she was familiar with using sincerity as a whole new layer of guile.

Whatever this kid was thinking, he decided to deal with it later, folding her papers neatly along their existing creases and handing them back to her. "Nick."

"Pardon?"

"Nicholas Wolfwood. Um. That's my name. Pleasure to meet you." He offered a hand, with all the awkward stiffness of someone greeting relatives they only see around the holidays. Every taut inch of his body screamed that he still didn't believe her but it was just easier to play along.

She made sure to thicken her natural drawl in reply as she took his hand. "Major Wynn Fayram. The Reaping Alchemist. Nice to meet you." Really she was pretty used to 'you can't possibly be what you claim to be', but normally it was because someone was looking down on her. This was somehow both way funnier, and way more terrifying, because sooner or later she was going to have to accept-

This guy is from another world. With a different me.

She jerked back out of the handshake with a shudder. Waved him off when his suspicion flipped to concern. "I'm fine. It's not- ...I'm okay."

Nick hovered next to her, too nervous to reach out and try to support her with touch. Which was good. She needed a moment to breathe. To-

"Stay there." she told him, and hooked her good hand on a nearby tree branch and hauled herself up. His eyes widened as she swiftly climbed one of the weird fruiting oak-a-likes and buried herself in the twisting branches. It felt cooler in there, among the leaves. It even smelled like an oak tree, and that soothed her nerves a little. It was familiar. She took a few deep breaths and then looked down to check on Nick.

He was looking up at her, eyes half-rolled in a very teenage expression of exasperation. "Sorry I can't get you a beer but I don't think I can find a corner store around here."

"That's fine!" Wynn called back, stretching out across one of the larger branches, wrapping her legs around the trunk to hold herself stable. "I just needed a minute to think."

Nick nodded, understandingly. "You really are like her, aren't you? It's weird but. You <i>are</i> Wynn. A different Wynn. From... somewhere else."

Wynn took another few deep breaths and lounged on the tree limb. The sway of it, the roughness of the bark. It was so close to being an oak, like it was just some rare species of the family. "I have no idea how you're taking this so calmly."

Nick's face went dead-pan flat. "I'm really not." A shrug, and then he gave her a crooked half-grin.  "But I already spent like half an hour walking through a weird forest and crying. I can't just stay curled under a tree for the rest of my life having a nervous breakdown."

Wynn dropped her face into the wood and sighed. "No, I guess not. In the end we always have to face the Truth."

--- --- ---

#mr son writing #mr son fanfic #colony au #planting seeds #terror and magic #i need a wolfwood tag? #full of mercy #maybe? #there's about a page and a half more already written #but that's the most recent cut off point #so i'll stop there for now #i need to do more writing like this that's just for play? #i keep trying to do the writing equivilent of all polished works no doodles #and it doesn't work any better for writing than it does for drawing

[echoalyssa]

Through His Window | Marcus Baker

Authors Note: Marcus is 18 in this and will be for every time that I write for him! Plus look at the boy, as if he’s 15 😒 I love this boy with all my heart, and could not write about anyone younger than 18 ever. Oral sex! Female receiving.

Y’all get yourself a man (or a woman) like this. I never KNEW until i experienced it. Don’t settle for less!

It’s late at night when you scurry across the street and into the Bakers’ yard. Normally it was your boyfriend climbing through your window, but today, or rather tonight, you decided that you wanted to switch it up.

You reach for the lowest branch of the tree below Marcus’ window, hauling yourself up and wedging your foot into the crevice before reaching for the next branch.

Its really not the most comfortable, stray leaves and twigs hit you in the face and if you weren't wearing leggings you'd certainly have some very scratched up legs.

Thank god it wasn’t a fern tree, that would be utter hell. How Marcus climbed up so gracefully was beyond you.

You finally reach his windowsill and with a might haul, you manage to pull yourself up. You wiggle so that a butt cheek and a thigh rests on the ledge, your other leg still on the tree branch and then you push the window up.

Luckily he hasn’t locked it, otherwise this whole thing would be ruined. Plus, stairs were boring.

You focus more on climbing into the room safely than looking for him. And when you’re seated on the floor, gasping slightly because it sure was a workout, you look up.

Marcus is standing by his dresser just staring at you, looking downright shocked. He blinks, his jaw opening and closing like a fish. His eyebrows rise and then fall again.

“Hey baby!” You say with a giggle.

He blinks another confused blink and then his face lights up. Your boyfriend crosses the room to you and then hauls you up so he can kiss you.

You melt into him, the ever so present fact that the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces looming over you.

“What are you doing here?” He asks with a chuckle of disbelief after he’s pulled away.

You stroke your jaw and grab your crotch, like teenage boys did for their instagram pics. “I’m Marcus Baker. I crawl through windows at night.”

He eyes you, and then simultaneously the two of you break into laughter.

Your fingers find the hem of his tshirt and you tug lightly, before backing away from him to slide off your shirt (one of his old ones, though it unfortunately didn’t smell like him) leaving you in those black nike running shorts that you loved.

He obliges, not because he enjoys being shirtless but because he likes you in his clothes. Or nothing at all. He wasn’t picky.

You slip it over your head and then dart for his bed, you fling yourself onto the mattress and your body bounces back up after impact.

He darts after you, jumping on top of you and pinning you to the mattress. His fingers go to your sides and he begins to tickle you, knowing all the right places.

You squirm, all giggly and thrashing. You can feel the lack of air and you smack at his shoulders playfully, trying to escape his wrath.

He pulls back, knowing you need to breathe. “Give me one good reason as to why I should stop.”

You gasp, and gasp again, sucking that precious air back into your lungs. “I-I-“ You suck in more air, a stray giggle following. “I’m horny!”

At that his eyebrows raise and he peers down at you. “Horny eh?”

You nod curtly and then for extra effect add a little army salute.

“I’ve got a spectacular solution for that problem then miss. Will you allow me to assist you?”

“Yessir!”

He rolls over to the right of his bed so that he’s no longer on top of you and then pats the space between the sides of his head.

You give him a blank look.

“Ride my face babe!”

You feel your eyes blow out wide. Oh. OH. “Isn’t that dangerous? What if you can’t breathe?”

“Death by thick thighs, I would not complain!”

“No death Mar!” You exclaim.

He pats the mattress again. “Bless me with the glorious juices of your body.”

This kid. This kid would be the end of you.

Reluctantly you tug the shorts off, and because of the built in underwear you didn’t need to wear underwear. You straddle his chest first and look down at him.

“Are you sure?”

You knew he loved eating you out, loved cleaning you up and he loved giving. But you’d never sat ON his face before.

Slowly you scoot up, seeing his face disappear between your thighs. Though you hover over his face, reluctant to put too much weight on him.

His arms wrap around your thighs from the back, his palms resting on your hips, and then abruptly he pulls you down onto him.

His lips land on your clit and you gasp, trying to rocket back up but he holds you there, his grip firm but not tight.

He drags his tongue through your lips and you whimper. It’s always so good when he does this, but the fact that you’re on his face is ridiculously enticing even if you’re still worried. His tongue then flicks upward and- he catches your clit and your hand shoots downwards, wrapping in his hair.

“Oh god-“

He groans from underneath you and you know it’s because he loves the way you taste. The vibration of the groan rockets through you and your legs shake.

His tongue picks a steady rhythm on your clit and you find your hips rolling forward ever so slightly.

“Is that o-okay?” You gasp out, worried you’ll hurt him.

He lets out a ragged moan in response and tugs you further into him.

Something about this angle, about this position, it was stirring a fire in your belly already. If only there was a mirror, if you ever did this again (and you had a feeling you would) you’d definitely be adding a mirror to the equation.

Your body is succumbing to him, you fall forward, grabbing the headboard for support, fisting his hair.

His tongue stays steady and when he needs a slight break for air he’ll pull you off just slightly before tugging you back onto his face.

Your eyes are glued to his face between your thighs, the source of all the pleasure coursing through your body. At the way just his eyes and forehead are visible below you. His gaze flickers to you occasionally, watching your reactions every time he changes the angle and alters the pressure.

He drags his tongue down to your opening, plays with you there for a bit and then returns full force to your clit.

It’s enough to make you keen out his name.

“M-mar-marcus b-babe p-please” You beg.

The sound of your voice, racked with your impending orgasm and the taste of you does him in and his tongue speeds up, his lips curl around your clit, he sucks on it, like a cherry.

“Oh I-“

Your legs are shaking and you knew that if you wanted to pull off of him you wouldn’t be able to. You hoped he was doing okay on oxygen down there.

It hits you like a truck. Like the first time you vape but have no idea what it’s like. But harder. Your entire body seizes up and then… heaven. Euphoric bliss.

You release onto his face, into his mouth and he laps it all up, urging you through your orgasm and then further. He’s obsessed. His arms keep you pressed onto him.

Your hips jerk, reaching over sensitivity but he doesn’t stop. Instead Marcus keeps going, showing your body how it’s down. What a real orgasm is. You’re seizing above him and the pleasure just won’t stop.

Eventually his pace slows and he slowly pulls off. He helps you lay down next to him, where your entire body is shaking, especially your legs. Who knew post orgasm shakes were really a thing?

He grins at you, mouth and chin glistening with your liquids and then as you watch him, he uses a finger to collect and literally cleans himself.

It’s about one of the sexiest things ever and you don’t think you’ll ever recover from this. Not that that would be such a bad thing.

#marcus baker #ginny and georgia #netflix #marcus baker imagine #marcus #baker #marcus baker x reader #ginny #georgia #marcus baker smut

[tommyspeakycap]

Please could you write one with Grealish where you’re a Chelsea fan so refuse to wear a Villa shirt with his name on, and for bants Mount gets you a Chelsea shirt with his name and Jack gets all pouty?

omg I love this idea!! gets very smutty at the end ;) enjoy!

Villa Boy

A love for Chelsea had been something you adapted and grew to into as a young girl. Your dad was never entirely sure how to bond with his only daughter and your mother told him just to include you in what he loved. And so came your season pass with a little lanyard that still hung proudly in your childhood room right next to a shirt mounted in a glass photo frame with Frank Lampard's signature scrawled along the eight on the back.

It was actually how you met Jack in the first place, which is the only one single reason that he has for liking your club affiliation. Otherwise, it was one of the most annoying things in his world. It was often a source of teasing and taunting, you saying your team was better than his and him swaggering home and gloating for weeks when Aston Villa take a win over Chelsea. It was the bane of his life that he couldn't get you into that claret and blue. Not even to sleep in or wear around the house, you just would not dare put it on.

"I would feel my dad's shame emanate through the walls, maybe it would kill him. And then I'd lose every morsel of self respect I have, so not a chance." You'd snort, not even giving him a window for more persuasion.

His England shirt? that was fair game. You'd wear that with pride, to the shops, round the house, walking the dog and especially at his games but there was just absolutely no chance of getting you into his Villa shirt.

Though Jack may never admit it, it was one of his biggest wants. Seeing you in his England short was nothing short revolutionary - he'd said. It only made him want to see you in the Villa shirt more. That was his childhood club, getting to captain that was one of his biggest achievements and while he knew you were absolutely proud of him. You were the most proud and encouraging person in his life and there were no ifs buts or maybes in that.

But my god he knew you'd look fit in that claret and blue.

No matter how much it annoyed him, he wouldn't get you out of the darker blue home jersey of your favourite club no matter what he did. It was something he had come to accept over the course of your relationship, it was by and large fine.

Until that jersey said someone else's name across the back.

"Awh come on!" He yelps, mouth dropped open as you emerge into the kitchen with your toothbrush hanging out your mouth and only one shoe on. Jack knows you slept in because he switched off your alarm last night in hopes you'd miss the game, but Jack dropped a bowl when he tripped over the dog and woke you up anyway.

You going to the Villa v Chelsea game in a Chelsea shirt was bad enough, but now he's just clocked something that's sent his mind firing a mile a minute.

MOUNT

19

Not a fucking chance.

"Oi, you!" He calls out, throwing himself off the chair at the kitchen island, his feet fumbling over one another to get after you as quickly as possible. "What's up, Jack?" You hum innocently, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you stand in the doorway shoving on your other shoe. "Is something the matter?"

Jack gawks, opening and closing his mouth awaiting words to find his frazzled brain. "Yes!" He squeaks, a tone you'd never heard from a man before, let along your very deep voiced man. "There's no way that you're- what are you doing? Come back." He groans, his feet shuffling after you as you walk back through the house to find your car keys. "We're going to be late if you don't hurry up." You note sweetly, Jack drops his jaw. "We're not going anywhere until-"

"Hi Mason, yeah I got it. Fits like glove actually. Yeah, we're just leaving now. I'll meet you in the car park."

Jack's face was literally priceless. His agape, eye's wild, brows furrowed. A pout settles itself firmly into his lips the second he sits in the car with his arms folded over his chest like a toddler. You have to physically stifle a laugh at him as you beam the entire drive to Villa Park.

"M' gonna burn that." He states. You cast him a glance out the corner of your eye as you pull into the players parking. A snigger escapes despite your very best efforts and Jack resumes his frontward glare at the dashboard with his lips in a firm line. "Gonna win this game, burn that shirt and knock Mount flat."

You know he's not being serious about Mason. He's very fond of the player when they're on the same side. But you had become very close friends with him through the mutual love for the club he plays at and Jack absolutely despised that. He wasn't the kind to be bothered by your friends even to a moderate degree and even here he trusted you, he just fucking hated the concept of another club and another mans name over your back. It ticked him right off.

You know this very well. You knew what you were getting into the second Mason handed you that dark blue shirt. It was all fun and games really. You loved the club but you only wore the Mount shirt to get under Jack's skin. You thought it might even throw off his game a little.

The second he stormed onto the pitch and scored a goal 5 minutes into the game, you figured that might not be the case.

Every opportunity, every goal, every opening and every single tackle, Jack turned to you. He turned to you with fire in those brown eyes, sending you a cheeky wink. His passion, the very serious look etched onto his features and the way he was looking at you was fuelling a very different kind of fire in you.

Jack played the whole 90 minutes and he took Mason Mount down at every single given opportunity in a careful way that just evaded him getting a yellow card. He finished hot, sweaty and with a man of the match trophy for 2 goals and one assist with a majority of the game spent with the ball at his feet.

The 3 nil win should have been a lot more disappointing that it was, but he just looked so fucking good. The sweat stuck his hair to his temples, his muscles tight and protruding through exertion as he walks off the field after shaking every hand.

You're standing just outside the tunnel with Mason and John McGinn standing with you, talking about the match mostly. John makes a joke about you wearing that top more often, seems to be a good luck charm for Villa even if it's the opposing team. Mason scoffs and says; "More like an angry boyfriend wants to murder me charm."

That's when Jack appears and John barely gets his mouth open to greet him before Jack shoulders through the two footballers. His mouth finds your immediately. Hot, passionate, fiery and filled with his dominance.

He pulls back and grabs onto your hand tightly with his back to the two midfielders. Jack twists his body round with a daggering glare.

"Nobody," Jack growls, "fucks around with girl."

His tone, deep and gravelly, only serves to dampen your panties further in a way that makes your clench your legs together.

Jack's done with pouting, the teasing can resume later. For now, he's dragging you by the hand to a darkened conference room. Hiking you up his body before setting you on the table that sits at a miraculously perfect height that places you right against his bulge.

He wastes no time whatsoever ripping down your leggings and panties, his fingers finding you immediately to swirl pressured motions around your sensitive clit. "Ahh, who's got you moaning like that baby?" He rumbles, words vibrating through your lips.

"You Jack, oh god, you!" You pant as his fingers leave you feeling empty and needy. Jack easily tugs down his shorts and pulls himself out of his boxers to line up with your entrance. His victory sex is hot always, but usually there was a dry spell after a Villa v Chelsea game, so it had never been this hot.

"And who am I?" He grunts, pushing himself into you to hear your shuddering squeak of pleasure. He lays you down over the table, hands following you under your shirt to carefully and tentatively swirl his fingers over your nipples from under your bra. "Oh god, Jack," you move your hands to the hem of the blue shirt to lift it over your head, but Jack's hands stop them before you have the chance.

"No, no, no," he chastises with a smirk, "Want to fuck you in their colours," He continues to thrust roughly into you with each heavy breath, mouth and squeak that escapes you only spurring him on. "Want to fuck you with his name on your back, baby. Remind you who you belong to."

You shudder in pleasure with the feeling of his lips attaching to your neck, letting out a shaky, heavy breath as he snakes a hand down between you to swirl those circles around your more pleasureful spot once again. He knows the intricate details of your body better than any man ever has and he always ensures he uses it to his advantage, but nothing like today. His lips on the sweet spot of your neck, hitting and stretching you perfect between your legs with masterful work of his fingers pushing you closer and closer with each second that passed.

"Fuck , I'm so close-"

"Who's making you feel so good, baby?" He pants, skin slapping and heavy breathing echoing around the room. "You, Jack. You!"

"Not a Chelsea boy eh?" He grunts, teeth nibbling down over your collarbone. "Not a Chelsea boy baby is it?" He reiterates, pairing the movements of his hand only until you snap open your eyes again, "No Jack, it's all you. not a- oh god!"

Jack breathes a chuckle into your ear with an appreciative hum to follow.

"Yeah, Villa Captain isn't it? You're screaming out for a Villa boy, ain't ya?" He coaxes, edging you further and further as he speeds up to a pace he's never quite hit you with before. The adrenaline of the match, the irritation of that blue jersey and the passion for the win colliding to give him an energy he's never yet had. Watching your eyes roll beneath him wearing that stupid blue entices him on, only makes him want to pleasure you more if even possible. "Yes! Yes, I am, oh god just don't stop."

"Go on then," he encourages, voice deep in your ear. "Come undone for the Villa Captain baby."

He didn't have to tell you twice, that was for sure. The sight of your eyes fluttering, the feeling of you clenching around him with a steam of, "Fuck yes Jack!" sends him tumbling over the edge of his orgasm right after you, a strangle cry out of your name as it wracks through him.

When he lays down beside you in the table that very surpassingly withstood the pace of your antics, you're both breathless and shining with sweat. Your legs feel like jelly as you still throb from the pleasure. Jack turns his head to you with a lazy smirk, brushing some hair off your forehead as you turn to look at him.

"Well, I certainly do love a Villa boy."

#jack grealish smut #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish imagines #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish imagine #england national team imagine #england national team #footballer fics #football fics #footie fics

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 7

Severus looks back on everything that went wrong.

tw: non-consensual kissing/harassment, trauma responses

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 7 .:Things Unforgivable and Things Left Unsaid:.

Graduation day at Hogwarts was supposed to mark the beginning of a new adventure for you. Instead, it marked the day you decided that whatever it was between you and Severus Snape, friendship or otherwise, it was over.

Or at least that's what you had thought. Of course, the universe just loved making things more complicated for you. You were working with Charlie in Romania when you had gotten word that Severus defected from the death eaters and was now working as a double agent at Dumbledore's behest. He continued teaching Potions at Hogwarts, and was even indited as a member of the Order. If anything, that only solidified your decision to go to America instead of staying in London. You didn't even know what to think. Of course you trusted Dumbledore, confusing as the man was, but you didn't know if you could really trust Snape again. You had worked towards forgiving him; over time you moved past what happened, but it was difficult to really say it was 'resolved' when you quite literally haven't spoken a word to each other in over a decade. You didn't even know where to start.

For the entirety of your seventh year, you didn't speak a word to Severus. It was hard to imagine that such a tight knit trio like the one you, him, and Lily had formed could crumble in an instant, but that's exactly what happened.

The end of your sixth year at Hogwarts was a quarter Snape would never forget, no matter how hard he tried. It was when everything fell apart. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1976  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“James!” you yelled, running to the top of the hill where he and the rest of the Marauders had Snape held upside down.

“What are you doing?” you said, immensely hurt and trying to keep your voice steady, “You said this would stop, you promised. . . you swore.”

“(Y/n), I. . .” James trailed off, immediately feeling guilty. As he turned to you Snape dropped to the ground, attempting to scramble to his feet but finding his ankle twisted.

Sirius moved towards you to say something but you put your hand up firmly.

“No,” you said, “not a word out of you, Black.”

Sirius stared at you, wide-eyed, shrinking back as you called him by his last name for the first time in a long while. Not Sirius, not Pads. Black. As if your whole friendship had just been reset.

“And you two,” you said, addressing Remus and Peter, “how could you let this happen?!”

All four boys looked at you in shame, none of them daring to verbally respond.

Suddenly, Lily came running up the hill, having fallen behind you in your quick pace.

“Severus!” she panted, rushing over to him, “are you alright?”

Snape was in an angered daze, not even registering the words being said around him. The blood rushing through his veins felt like lava, his heart pounding in his ears, his chest, his tongue. His face burned with humiliation and hatred. Pure fucking hatred for James Fleamont Potter. For Lily to see him like that. . . for you to see him like that, pathetic, helpless, in need of your help once again. He wouldn't have it. He was a master of the dark arts now, he didn't have to fucking take this. He would curse Potter into the next century, he would—

“Severus!”

Snape's eyes snapped open, not even realizing they were closed. The world came rushing in around him and he was suddenly acutely aware of Lily's hand on his arm. He reeled back at her touch as if he'd been burned.

“Don't touch me!” he screeched, startling the redheaded girl. Her eyes were filled with concern, but all Snape could see was pity.

“Sev—“

“I don't need any help from you, you filthy Mudblood!”

And everyone in the clearing stilled.

The color drained from Snape's already pale face as he realized what he'd just said.

“Lily. . .” Severus whispered; pleading, desperate.

“Don't come any closer,” Lily said, her voice stone cold as tears welled up in her eyes.

“I'll kill you,” James said lowly.

“Prongs, no—”

“I'll kill you, you slimy bastard!” James growled, Remus moving quickly to hold him back.

You stood in the middle of it all, staring at Severus. Severus, who'd always told Lily that blood status didn't matter. Severus, who you and Lily always stood up for no matter what. Severus, who you thought you had feelings for up until this exact moment.

Without even thinking you stepped forward, grabbing Lily's hand.

“Let's go, Lils,” you said, your expression unreadable as you looked down at Severus. Lily squeezed your hand back gratefully, fighting the sobs racking her chest as she turned around and took off with you.

“(Y/n), wait—” Snape tried to get up but found himself shoved back down to the ground by Sirius.

“No,” he said sharply, “you don't get to say anything to either of them, you hear me?”

“I—”

“What?” James spat, “you're sorry? Well sorry doesn't cut it! You say a word to her after what you called her and you'll wish you'd never have been born.”

Snape's head hung low, that wish already present in his mind.

“Leave him,” Remus said, this time not out of mercy, but malice; letting Snape wallow in his own misery as he left with his friends, looking for you and Lily.

Soon, Severus was left alone. Just as he began, and just as he should have never hoped for anything different. Was this it? That's how it was going to end? One mistake, and the only two people he'd ever cared about were ripped away from him.

No. He decided he had to apologize properly, consequences be damned. If those Marauders wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp afterwards, that was fine by him. He just needed to talk to Lily one more time. To tell her how deeply sorry he really was.

He took off down the hill, sprinting towards the castle and completely ignoring the burning pain in his ankle. He rushed through the grass, ignoring the looks he received from the other students walking by. He ran past the oak tree, through the castle gates, flying through the corridors and cutting across the courtyard when he skid to a stop at what he saw.

Lily and James stood in the center of the garden, her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as his lips captured hers. Her eyes were still wet with tears, the tears that he had caused. Severus didn't do a thing. His presence remained unknown to them as he slunk away back to his common room, heart silently breaking.

He was too late.

Nothing was the same after that.

Lily insisted that if you wanted to remain friends with Snape, as she now referred to him, she wouldn't hold it against you, but she made it very clear that she would never forgive him herself. But it wasn't as easy as wanting to stay friends with him or not; he'd changed that day.

After some time to let things settle down you tried to approach him, but he only became more and more hostile towards everyone, including you. You hardly saw him anymore. The only time you occasionally spotted him was when he was walking around school with Malfoy, Mulciber, Wilkes, and Avery, unable to look you in the eye lest you see the utterly crushed expression on your face as he fell deeper and deeper into the dark side.

You held your books tightly to your chest as you made your way to Hagrid's hut for one of your last Care of Magical Creatures class. You were being paired up with a few lower classmen to teach them the ropes for feeding all the creatures Hagrid kept in the meadows. You were a tad late, having been preoccupied at lunch, speedwalking to try and arrive on time when you saw a flash of silver-blue light emit from inside the forest. You could hear warbled shouting and laughter coming from the same direction, and your instincts told you to run.

However, because your nerves were on high alert, that also told you someone in there was in danger, and you couldn't just walk away from that. You drew your wand, abandoning your books by a rockface and moving towards the commotion, the distorted shouting soon becoming words.

“Oh come on, you little runts, you lot can do better than that!” you recognized Mulciber's voice.

A young girl shrieked as a giant acromantula barred its fangs at her, its front legs raised and poised to attack. Her friends were huddled in a corner, more students who couldn't have been older than second or third years, being forced to watch by Avery and Wilkes.

“How's this for Care of Magical Creatures, eh?” Mulciber taunted as he walked over to the other students, pulling a young boy out from the group.

“No!” the girl cornered by the spider cried, “please, don't!”

“Aw, how cute,” Mulciber drawled, “is this your little boyfriend, huh? Shame.”

The boy screamed in fear as he was suddenly lifted into the air by his ankles, forced to hover right above the spider just out of its reach. You wanted to wretch as you watched the scene unfold, unable to keep yourself hidden any longer.

You leaped into the clearing, a quick flick of your wrist relieving Mulciber of his wand. You did the same to Wilkes as he turned to you.

“Well well, why am I not surprised?” Avery scoffed. Right behind him stood Severus, his expression vacant.

“Grab this, and get to Professor McGonagall immediately,” you shouted to the younger Gryffindor students, tossing them a gold galleon. As soon as they touched the coin, the portkey shot them all back to the castle.

“Why are you always the one spoiling our fun?” Mulciber sneered.

“Someone's gotta do it,” you said, putting up a brave front although you were under no illusion as to your situation. You weren't fourth years anymore, and you were alone this time. They'd been studying the dark arts for the past two years. You knew you were outmatched, even with your dueling skills.

“Oh, come on, (Y/n), don't be a bore.”

You turned around at the sound of the familiar voice to see Rosier, an easy grin set into his face. Your heart dropped.

“So you too, huh?” you chuckled bitterly, “and here I thought you were one of the few good ones left.”

“You're not really that naive, are you?” he tutted, “you had to have known I would be inducted eventually. Might even get Barty to join us, even if he is a little nutty.”

You went for a stunning spell but found your wand spinning out of your hand before you even saw him move.

“Not so fun to be on the receiving end, is it?” Rosier said, “you're not the only one versed in non-verbal magic, (Y/n). In fact, I'd even go so far as to say we've surpassed you. Lucius will be furious, but I like you a lot, so I'll re-extend his old offer for him. Join us.”

You had no wand, no backup, no way out of this, but you stood your ground nonetheless.

“Eat shit,” you seethed. Rosier glowered at you, taking a few menacing steps forward. He grabbed your jaw firmly and you grit your teeth.

“I don’t think you heard me—”

He reeled back as you spit right in his face,

“You bitch,” he growled, wiping his face in disgust, “clearly no one ever bothered to train you.”

Without your wand you were really only left with one option, ready to defend yourself by revealing your animagus form, but you never got to take the first step forward.

“Imperio!”

You stopped in your tracks as a veil of what could only be described as pink fluff drifted over your mind. A smile immediately appeared on your face, and a giggle rose in your throat.

Severus looked at Rosier with horror, the rest of his crew looking among themselves uneasily.

“What do you think you're doing?” Snape hissed, “are you trying to get us all expelled?”

“So what?” Rosier said, “we've used the killing curse loads of times.”

“On insects, you loon,” Snape shot back, hoping his concern for you was masked enough.

“Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt your precious (Y/n), Sev.”

The nickname made his stomach churn. You used to call him that. Lily used to call him that. No one else did. No one else got to.

“Release them,” he said, raising his wand, “now.”

“Put that away,” Rosier's eyes narrowed, a smirk sliding back onto his face as he got an idea, “hey, (Y/n)?”

“Yes?” you answered, your voice dripping with honey.

“I don't think Severus likes you being under this spell,” Rosier said, “but you like it don't you?”

“Mmm hmm,” you nodded, your head feeling like it was floating, “it feels so nice.”

“You know what else would feel nice?” Rosier goaded, “if you gave our friend Sev here a kiss.”

Severus' heart dropped to his stomach.

“You're sick, Rosier,” Snape said, his voice close to tremmoring.

“You don't have to act like you don't want it,” Evan chuckled, “we've watched you putz around (L/n) like a fool for years. Besides, they want to. Isn't that right, (Y/n)?”

“He's right,” you said, your voice deceptively melodic, “I love you, Severus. I've always loved you.”

And in that moment, Snape had never hated himself more. Because he didn't care that Rosier was making you say the things you did. He didn't care that you were under the influence of a curse. All he could hear was the words he longed to hear spill from your lips, over and over like a skipping record.

I love you, Severus. I love you, Severus. I love you, Severus.

He played the words on repeat in his head. His heart was beating almost painfully in his chest, so much so that he hardly even noticed you slowly walking towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck like Lily had done to James. And when you leaned forward to kiss him, his selfish desires held him in place.

It had lasted a fraction of a second, but he didn't pull away. It was the greatest regret of his life that he didn't walk up to Rosier, break his nose, and curse every single person in that clearing instead of doing nothing, knowing full well you had no control over your actions.

When his eyes drifted open and met yours and his stomach twisted into ugly knots, fear and panic wracking through his spine. Your eyes were completely empty, irises a vacant white, and in that moment it felt as if he were kissing a corpse.

Suddenly the color returned to your eyes, and fear immediately filled them. Snape grunted as he was shot away from you, unable to move when he hit the ground. The other Slytherins looked around for the assailant, but they had no time to react when every single one of their wands was pulled from their hands. McGonagall stood there, expression the same as ever but clearly brimming with fury.

“(L/n), come,” she said, ushering you over and taking you protectively in her embrace, “we'll get you to Madame Pomfrey.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she regarded Snape and the rest of their group, “As for you,” she said, “Mr Filch, secure them in the dungeons until the Headmaster calls for them. And put all of their wands in the lockbox.”

“With pleasure,” Filch said, almost blending in with the trees behind her.

“Are you alright?” McGonagall asked you as she helped you back towards the castle.

“No,” you said, honestly, “n-no, I don't think I am.”

“No amount of apology could ever equate to the remorse I feel that this happened to you, (L/n),” she said earnestly, “I am truly sorry. This was completely unacceptable, and I will see to it that the proper measures are taken for their punishments. Expulsion would suit just fine, but even if the Headmaster disagrees, I will personally ensure you never come into contact with any of those boys again.”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice sounding hollow in your own ears.

You didn't remember walking the near half-mile to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey's words felt so far away, as if she were speaking underwater. You just remembered laying down in the hospital wing bed as she checked you for any lasting damage, and as soon as she'd turned her back you'd just wept.

________________________________________________________

That night, Snape found himself in the Prefect's bathroom, leaned over the sink and watching the water rush into the drain. His hands clutched the marble sides of the basin so hard his knuckles turned white, every breath catching painfully in his chest before he forced it out to take another shaky inhale. He was an idiot, he knew. There was no fixing this. Not really. First Lily, now you. Was he just predestined to lose everyone in his life?

He paused. No, he didn't deserve to think like that. Everything that had gone wrong was his own doing.

When he heard the door to the bathroom open he whipped around, ready to curse whoever dared to interrupt him until he saw you standing there, your eyes red from crying and the Marauder's Map clutched in your hands like a vice. He was half certain you were a hallucination, but as soon as he pulled himself to the present, he rushed to apologize. You had to know how horrible he felt about what he did, even if you would never forgive him. He made the mistake of being too cowardly to properly apologize to Lily, he wouldn't make that mistake again.

“(Y/n), I'm—”

“I know you're sorry,” you said callously, “and I know you mean it. That's not the issue.” you took a breath to collect yourself before you continued. This was so much harder than you thought it would be. Maybe this wound really was too fresh right now. You thought you'd be able to handle this conversation, but your prior feelings weren't making this any easier.

“Why did you do it?” you asked quietly, “Better, why did you do nothing? You were my friend, Severus.”

Whatever was holding back the flood of emotions in him, it snapped at your words.

Were. Past tense.

“I don't know what I was thinking,” Snape said in exasperation, though it came off more as anger directed at himself. His hands threaded through his messy black locks, his eyes nearly manic. You'd never seen him unravel quite like this. He was desperate to fix this, to keep you in his life. “No, I wasn't thinking at all, (Y/n). I couldn't, not when you were . . . not when I. . .”

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it—

“Not when I've fancied you for years.”

Snape knew immediately that he had made a mistake. The expression on your face made his stomach twist, and he knew there was no taking back what he said.

“No,” you said, tears welling in your eyes, “Severus Snape, don't you dare say that. What, do you think that just makes this all okay? You're an oblivious idiot, you know that?”

Your heart ached so bad it felt as if you couldn't breathe.

“Do you know how many times I wished you would have kissed me?” you said shakily, not bothering to hide the hurt in your voice.

Snape was sure his breathing had stopped, eyes wide with shock. He couldn't have heard that right. Did you really feel the same way about him? But reality hit him in the face when he saw your expression. This was no heartfelt confession on your part.

“For you to just. . . for it to happen like that,” you said, still struck with betrayal and disbelief, “If you've ever respected me, you never would have let that happen. I was under a curse, Severus. And you took advantage of that— of me. All because you were too much of a coward to just tell me how you felt. And then you go on and say you've liked me this whole time as a last ditch effort to save our friendship? How the hell did you expect me to react?”

He had nothing to say to that. He blamed himself entirely. Every verbal blow you struck he gladly took, he would have sat there still as stone if you hexed him, but you refused to draw your wand at him. You just stood there, staring straight through him with unbelievable hurt in your eyes.

“I can't do this, Severus,” you said, “please, just. . . just leave me alone. I'm not saying I'll never forgive you, but right now I can't even begin to think about that. Not now.”

You looked like you wanted to say something more, but your mouth snapped shut, and Severus saw the finality in your eyes. He stayed glued to the spot where he stood long after he watched you leave, his eyes trained on the door you'd slammed shut.

If you thought Snape had made himself scarce after what he said to Lily, after what he did to you he practically vanished. He no longer sat underneath the tree that had become so symbolic of your former trio. He no longer roamed the Slytherin common room, or even the Great Hall for meals. Instead he would walk through the forbidden forest alone, or hole up in some empty corridor purposely hiding but hoping you would walk up to him. You never did.

The people who did find him in the few days that followed were the newly named Marauders, though incomplete as they arrived without you. As he glanced down at the parchment in Lupin's hand he had no questions about how they'd located him. Snape grimaced, not bothering to get up from his seat beneath the stone pillar. Anything they did to him was what he deserved.

James stepped forward from the group first. His expression was unreadable, but Snape saw the way his jaw was set firmly in place, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. The Slytherin had expected Potter to come at him guns blazing, sending a flurry of verbal attacks and hexes his way. However, James Potter simply stared down at his former enemy with a look that met in the intersection of barely contained anger and utter disappointment.

“You didn't deserve them,” he said coldly, his voice oddly level.

“I know,” Snape glared, but not feeling very self-righteous.

“No, you don't,” James said, his voice rising steadily, “you will never know what you put them through. You sat there while your lunatic friends used an Unforgivable Curse on them, and you took advantage of them. I don't care if you know, I'm going to throw it back in your face, because it's what you deserve.”

“I think it's clear that (Y/n) doesn't wish to speak with you any longer,” Remus said, “if for some inconceivable reason they want to in the future, they'll approach you. Don't you even think about going about it the other way around before they're ready and willing to talk. If they ever are.”

“It's settled, Severus,” James said simply, “you're officially not worth our time anymore.”

Snape blinked up at him, trying to recall a time when Potter had ever called him by his actual name.

“Don't get us wrong,” Sirius glared, “the only reason we aren't throwing you to the Womping Willow is because we know the last thing (Y/n) would want is her friends getting expelled because of them.”

“We'll leave you alone now,” Peter said grimly, “just like you've always wanted.”

And they were telling the truth. They left him completely alone, not speaking a word to him after that; 'they' now including you and Lily, which destroyed him more than any amount of bullying had before. He watched from afar as you grew closer and closer to the Marauders. . . no, you were a Marauder. It was only natural that you became almost like a family in your seventh year. You, James, Peter, Sirius, Remus, and Lily had become as inseparable as Snape thought you, him, and Lily were, but he'd ruined that. He had ruined every good thing that had ever happened to him and pushed away every important person in his life.

The last time he saw you was graduation day. Everyone was running around excitedly, dressed in the ceremonial jewel-toned robes of their respective houses as they awaited Dumbledore's speech. You had been sitting with your group as usual, now having carved out your own spot at the Gryffindor table, when you noticed that Snape was nowhere to be found.

You frowned, wondering why he of all people had to slip into your mind on a day like today.

“You alright, Fangs?”

Sirius' voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, I'm fine. . .”

His handsome features contorted in concern, but that easy grin slid back onto his face as he nudged you with his shoulder.

“What, you worried you're gonna miss us?” he smirked, “this isn't goodbye, you know. We'll all see each other at the Order meetings—”

“Which you always seem to talk about at an extraordinary volume,” Remus shushed him pointedly. Sirius brushed him off with a roll of his eyes.

“(Y/n), are you sure nothing's wrong?” James asked from across the table.

“I'm alright, Prongs,” you said, “I just. . . you know what? I just remembered I left something in my dorm, I'll be right back.”

Your friends exchanged worried glances as you got up from the table, taking off towards the Slytherin common room. It wasn't a total lie, but your intentions went against your better judgment. After today there was a very, very good chance you would never see Severus again. What he did wasn't okay by any means, and it would take more than an apology or a simple conversation to forgive him, but you needed closure at the very least. Not for him, but for you. You deserved that much.

You swiped the map off your bedside table and opened it fully, your eyes quickly picking out Severus' name near the cellars only a few rooms away from where you were. You took off quickly down the hall, reaching the intersection where all the dungeon's corridors converged when you spotted him. Your heart stopped.

His left sleeve was rolled up to his elbow, as was the person's standing across from him, their back to you. Even though you couldn't see the second person's face, you recognized who it was immediately.

Evan Rosier.

He wasn't on the map before. . . how had he gotten in?! He'd been expelled after the day he cursed you. Did he somehow find a way to bypass the anti-apparition charm?

You felt your breathing hitch, fear creeping under your skin. There, on both of their arms, was a tattoo of a skull, a serpent weaving its way through the mouth and eye sockets in an undeniable pattern.  You stopped breathing all together. You knew Severus had fallen into the dark arts, but to actually be a death eater? To be proudly showing off that awful display of radicalism along with the person who had used an Unforgivable Curse on you, who had invaded your free will and taken over your body. . .

Severus must have felt you even from the opposite side of the hallway, because something pricking at his skin told him to look up, and when he did he wished he never had. You were looking at him for the first time in over a year, your eyes full of terror. Rosier followed his gaze, but when he looked over his shoulder there was no one there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus sighed, trying to push the less than pleasant memories out of his head. He knew by now he was likely the last person left in the house besides you, Harry, and Sirius who were all staying here. Something like hope had sparked in his chest when he saw the faintest ghost of a smile on your lips as you saw him for the first time since graduation. He wanted to talk to you, to tell you he knew he deserved nothing from you, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to make it right if you would only give him a chance after all this time. In truth, he missed his friend. With Lily gone, you were one of the closest things he had to that left.

Against his better judgment, Severus made his way up the stairs, silent as a thestral as he headed for your room, but he stopped in his tracks when he reached the top. Sirius' door was cracked open the slightest bit, and what Snape saw inside made his blood run cold. You were sitting next to Sirius on his bed, your head resting gently on his shoulder. As you craned your neck to look Sirius in the eyes, that's when Severus saw it— the way the Marauder looked at you. The way his face seemed to light up, the spark that returned to his gray eyes, the utter adoration in them.

And just like that, Snape was a seventeen year old boy again, transported right back to that courtyard garden, watching Lily and James share their first kiss on the day he had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. His heart shattered silently, though his departure was not so quiet as he took off down the stairs as quickly as he could. He grimaced at his own feelings, ones he knew he had no business owning.

As he was about to open the front door to leave, his instincts suddenly screamed at him to turn around, and he was just barely able to cast an invisibility charm as you began to come down the stairs. He held his breath as he looked at you. He knew he had no right to think so, but you were still beautiful like this; dressed in pajamas, hair disheveled, eyes still sightly puffy and red. He saw you look around, knowing you had no doubt heard his rather noisy descent of the staircase, and he cursed himself for not leaving sooner. Your eyes searched what should have appeared to be the empty space in front of you, but he saw you look him in the eyes, and he knew that you knew.

“Severus?” you called his name out softly, and the sound felt like a strike to his face.

He wanted nothing more than to say something to you, talk to you, hold you. But his mind flashed back to the way you had been with Sirius, and his words died in his throat. He said nothing, trying to remain unphased at your hurt expression as you turned around to walk back up the stairs. As soon as your back was turned to him, he left, unable to bring himself to do anything more.

Once again, he was too late.

Read chapter 8 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1 @crazy-obsessed-fangirl, @youcantbesirius​

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[imjeralee]

Not the same anon but I really liked your adhd hcs! Could you the same but with Diluc, Kaeya and Xiao please? (could you also add the fact s/o absolutely can't focus for shit on anything more than 5s before zoning out and they tend to be overstimulated very easily by their environment lol)

hi anon!! thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoyed it :) Not a problem, I guess this can be a part 2 ehe. I hope you like this one too. Please see below - 

Diluc

You’re actually one of the best workers he has in Dawn Winery, because you’re efficient and smart and bustling around like ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

But you do tend to zone out a lot and sometimes you end up working so late into night and you don’t realise it but you had forgotten to eat dinner so you go to the kitchen and it’s like 3am and Diluc is there because he works late too and he’s also just finally getting the chance to eat so you are always having food together whilst everyone else is asleep :3

At work though, if you had forgotten to do something such as paying the bills, no worries, Diluc has a backup plan - the maids usually help with this 

You usually ramble away to Diluc about anything you think of, even when he’s working at his desk. He’ll just be sitting silently and occasionally throwing you glances every now and then as you pace the study up and down and gesture with your hands. You know he’s listening. 

You may be messy, but the maids help clean up after you 

If you can’t focus, Diluc will help organise your day because he is organised himself and has lots of deadlines and also he has trustworthy employees like Adelinde and Connor who can help come up with a schedule for you on a daily basis but Diluc keeps you close by his side which also means you most likely do a lot of things together and you work/stay very closely with him

In order to help you stay focused and on task, he wants you to accomplish one thing at a time and often Diluc will do this with you personally 

If he was in the middle of doing something else, he will pause to head over to assist you. If he’s not able to, he’ll get Connor or Adelinde to help

When you’re overstimulated because there’s too many people visiting the Winery or feeling really uncomfortable in general and your thoughts are darting all over the place, Diluc will take your hand and lead you away and to your special, quiet place where you can just focus on him and look at his face which helps you gradually relax and calm down

You might zone out a bit when he starts talking but then you notice the intricate details on the buttons of his shirt and the buckle on his belt and you’re like ‘cool’…. And start pressing your fingers over them and he’s like “…….”

He still loff you a lot though 

Kaeya

Somehow everything you lose always end up in his possession??? Like you might go up to him and go ‘Kaeya! I lost my sword! I don’t know what happened to it! Its just disappeared!!” And he will just whip it out from behind his back and be like “You mean.... this sword?” And you’ll be like “YESSSS gimme.”

“Nuh-uh, not yet.”

“Whaaaat?”

“You have to give me a kiss first.”

“Okay.”

It’s actually pretty cool and reassuring because you have no idea how he does it

And this is the kind of relationship you have with him so you’re never bored around him because of how unpredictable he is 

You tend to zone out a lot so he likes making up little puzzles and brain teasers for you whenever you’re with him and keeping you guessing all the time

If you ask a question he’ll answer your question with a question. Can be either infuriating or very stimulating. Hmm.

Also enjoys telling you ghost stories 

I suspect you and Kaeya may actually be a pretty messy duo because you’re both busy with knightly duties and shit and your house will be utter chaos. Kaeya has arranged for a knight to come around twice a week to clean up tho

He loves to act as your own personal assistant and remind you of things so you don’t forget, usually by coming up behind you and leaning down to whisper in your ear 

If you zone out again, he’ll feed you some candy or hold your hand so you can play with his long fingers and the studs on his gloves or he’ll make little ice crystals with unique patterns and make them float around in the air for you 

He’ll also allow you to play with his ponytail

He’s quiet on his own so he’ll be a good listener

When you are experiencing sensory overload, Kaeya will usually sort it out for you one way or another. You’re in good hands. Then you will go and take a nap together.

Xiao

Xiao is your mentor. He speaks so fluently and to the point and also expects you to be clear and concise when dealing with him and so unceremoniously end up helping you organise your own thoughts 

Otherwise, you might zone out often and very easily because there’s too many things going on in Wangshu Inn and it’s too much to handle but then the smell of almond tofu being cooked in the kitchen helps kick you back to reality and you’ll realise Xiao was standing there by your side the entire time 

Ok ok so we know from Ganyu that Xiao is punctual and hates tardiness so he’s good at reminding you about appointments/deadline if needed.

I mean he will drill this into your brain with an iron fist. Defy him if you dare

It also means he will inevitably come up with some practises and teach you how to be mindful, how to increase your awareness and also various breathing exercises

Aside from that, he will notice you lose things a lot esp when he finds random stuff littering the Wangshu Inn ranging from cheese and vials of whopperflower nectar so he will keep an eye on you from now on.

Or if he’s not around, he will ask Verr Goldet to take note of what you lost so she can easily and quickly replace it thanks to Wangshu Inn’s connections

Xiao observes what you do on a regular basis from the shadows and then returns to the inn and also ask Verr Goldet to check up on you every now and then and remind you when it’s time to eat because he noticed you often forget to eat

One day you might return to your room and discover that he’s actually left some food for you and there this note on it with the word “EAT” scribbled on it 

Your impulsiveness and the hectic and chaos that surrounds you works well with him because it’s not like he has a schedule either, I mean he often turns up in your room at 4am after fighting so many demons after 3 days straight and he’s in agony from all that bad karma but there’s you and you’re awake because obv you forgot to do something and went back to it hours later but now that he’s here and in your presence and you want to talk to him about your day and he’ll be listening to everything

And listening to your voice and the way you speak is actually really soothing/comforting to him and even makes his pain goes away

Then you’ll remember what you were doing and rush off and he’ll be back up and running and go off to destroy more demons so the world can sleep better at night 

or if he’s free, you drag him outside to go on an adventure and explore the area around the inn and beat up some hilichurls 

If you have some trivial task to do and need his help, he’ll just offer his assistance at no cost, quite simple as that

During his free time, he’ll try to find out more about stim toys to help you. 

Xiao will learn what triggers your overstimulation and purposefully help you avoid it or get rid of the problem before it actually happens.

#xiao #diluc #kaeya #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #Xiao x reader #Xiao x you #Kaeya x you #Kaeya x reader #Diluc x reader #Diluc x you #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #xiao headcanons #diluc headcanons #kaeya headcanons