#also since i did this when i was little; i ended up drawing heavily implied to be lesbians without really knowing what lesbians were LMAO

[getosugurusbangs]

a flower named “you”

[bluegarners]

there tends to be a kind of under estimation in regards to dick’s attitude towards his parents. they’re more often used as The Reason for his path of heroism, and that’s true enough, but it’s a very focused Reason that often fails to include the actual Loving Parents. i would argue that thomas and martha wayne get more attention in regards to their loving on bruce, and in certain time traveling corners on dick as well, but it’s rare to see that kind of respect paid to john and mary grayson. the parallels we can draw between bruce and dick pretty much end after dick is taken in. we can count: loving parents; stable family structure; only child; bright future; horrific murder of parents; witness to said murder; and plot for vengeance as the core parallels between dick and bruce. where they begin to diverge is the point in which bruce becomes the guiding mentor for dick in how to channel that sense of grief and rage (though bruce had alfred, alfred played no part in diverting bruce from his self destructive path and encouraged it)

to that end, there’s a lot of talk about martha wayne’s pearls and mary grayson’s robin, but even then talk seems to only center around dick’s hero name and never what about the history the name implies. “robin stands for hope”, okay what else? martha’s pearls symbolize the catalyst for bruce’s transformation into batman, but does mary’s robin do the same? i think not, bc going back to the divergence between bruce’s and dick’s origins, though bruce remains the defining fork in the road for dick, if dick were raised in extremely similar circumstances as bruce, bruce would have more or less fulfilled the role that alfred did for bruce- which was mainly distant but caring adult figure that served to simply agree rather than direct. a reasonable conclusion, should bruce have fulfilled such a role for dick, would have been that dick should’ve become bruce #2. obviously, dick didn’t and the reason for that lies in john and mary grayson

this may ruffle some feathers, but there is a point to be made in the difference between the wayne parents and the grayson parents. let’s do some quick if thens: if alfred was left in charge of bruce, then alfred holds some responsibility in how bruce turned out. if bruce grew up to be someone emotionally closed off, then bruce is an emotionally distant, closed off adult. if bruce is an emotionally distant, closed off adult, then it stands to reason alfred reflects the same. so, if bruce and alfred are both emotionally distant, closed off adults, then when they take in dick grayson, dick will grow up to be an emotionally distant, closed off adult. right?

well, we all know that’s not how it turned out, and all reason for such a conclusion reside solely in the short time john and mary grayson raised their son. “but bruce had about the same time with his own parents. why did he and dick turn out so different?” and again i point directly at the implied differences in the wayne’s and grayson’s child rearing! the waynes represented a very nuclear family, one that is generationally upper class and in very prominent leadership positions. tracking the assumed and typical rearing patterns for that kind of family, though it may be a foundationally loving one, it’s also one that is radically different from the type the graysons represented. power and job structure rested solely with thomas and martha; bruce had very very little to worry about or any responsibilities other than making good grades and being a generally good son. comparing such a dynamic to the graysons, the power lines begin to blur a little. john and mary are employees, not leaders or heads of anything. however, they work in an extremely team oriented and cooperative environment- their earnings depend on everyone and themselves. though a prominent act in haly’s circus, they are not a completely solo one, and even then, it is a team, FAMILY act. since his birth, dick has been raised in an environment that focuses heavily on teamwork and perseverance. he took on enormous responsibility in being a part of the flying graysons, which likely wasn’t something he was being forced to do, young as he was. taking on a JOB as young as 9 years old, one that tests his physical, mental, and emotional strength sets him drastically apart from bruce when he was the same age. but let’s go back to john and mary again

no parent on earth would ever want to put their child in such a dangerous position as performing on the trapeze. and yet, john and mary did. why? dick’s initiative and his parents’ trust and strength. if john and mary believed that they lacked in some way that could put dick in harms way, i find it impossible to believe they would have ever let dick join them. dick did not learn his strength and endurance from bruce. dick already possessed those qualities before meeting him, otherwise dick would have never become robin and joined batman so quickly. the graysons set an ENORMOUS example for dick, one that set the tone for the rest of his life. taking into account the “it takes a village” familial structure that dick was raised in while with haly, dick would have learned that the strength of individuals COMBINED is what makes a person strong. even the formation of the flying graysons relies on trust in each other, that they will be caught in the next leap and that they can do these amazing stunts without fear of failure BECAUSE of the Faith they have in each others abilities. in addition to that, an environment that encourages strength and teamwork must also encourage FAILURE. one cannot learn from perfection- only through mistakes does one grow, and dick grew EXPONENTIALLY. dick grew, at the age of 9, to PRODIGY levels of talent and acrobatics. john and mary set an example so strong and so steadfast that it fostered dick’s stone-solid character for the rest of his life, even after they were gone from it

dick would have not survived his parents’ deaths were it not for the way they had raised him. it is why dick can move on and grow from it, whereas, as we’ve seen a dozen dozen times, bruce has failed to ever move on. coddled and adored as he was, bruce never had to face a challenge that his parents wouldn’t have gladly taken care of for him. the waynes did everything for their son because they loved him enormously, and what parent in the world would force their child to do difficult things- especially at 10 years old? of course bruce never had to confront things like failure or hardship before, his circumstances in life simply wouldn’t have allowed for it, and that is why bruce was so incapable of handling his parents’ deaths. thomas and martha did not prepare bruce for difficulties in any department, whereas john and mary introduced problems AND solutions to dick very early on. the SOLUTIONS bit is what set up dick for so much success- that’s the key difference between the two. dick had both parents AND guides, while bruce just had parents

dick would not have become a light in the world while with bruce were it not for john and mary grayson and their love and dedication towards their son. the credit for dick’s achievements as a hero may fall to bruce most of the time, but even bruce recognizes that he had zero part in the formation of dick’s strength of character. dick’s continued success and perseverance has EVERYTHING to do with those first 9 years he was with john and mary, and not a single one of the innumerable tragedies dick has endured has ever been able to disavow that

[akillerbeforeyou]

Anything.

(Kai Anderson x fem!reader)

Authors note: Heyy! This is my first time writing for Kai (and writing on Tumblr in general) so please feel free to tell me how you feel about it! It will be a two-parter (smut in the second part) because I'm lazy and didn't feel like writing more. Also, this is barely proofread.

Also! This fic is heavily inspired by a Kai bot from @fear-is-truth I wouldn't have had the motivation to start writing again if it wasn't for that bot so thank you!

Word count: around 1k

Content warning: implied sexual content, implied violence, that's pretty much it for now.

read part two here

It was my fault. I had fucked up, big time. 

From the very beginning, Kai had taken a liking to me. I've always been good at following rules to a tee with little to no hesitation. So naturally, I became one of Kai's favorites. When the role of his devoted girlfriend was first assigned to me, I assumed it was just that- a role to play- just another tactic to sway the voters in favor of him. I mean, who doesn't love a candidate with family-oriented values? it would be a way to humanize him and soften his image to the public. and who better to play the part than the one woman who had been willing to walk to the end of the world for him since the very get-go? Over time, I realized our relationship was more than just a facet of his public persona. I genuinely cared about him- and in his way, he felt the same. He would ask something of me, and I would do it. Never once since joining the cause did I feel threatened by him. Until now. 

I woke up confused, not remembering having laid down in the first place. As my vision cleared, I recognized the basement, dimly lit and empty. The grogginess I had originally woken up to started to fade as I looked down to find I had been completely tied down in the chair I was seated in. That's when I reminded myself of the previous 'mission' I had gone on with the rest of FIT where we had to retreat early to avoid getting caught after I had been the one to draw too much attention to the group. 

Fuck. Kai wasn't anywhere in sight, but I could feel his presence. I had been by his side since day one and I knew all too well how this would end. The sound of his footsteps broke the silence in the room, followed closely by his voice. 

"Now. What am I going to do with you?" I could feel his hot breath tickling the back of my neck as he leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Divine Ruler. I'm sorry. I really am." I did my best to get out full sentences but every few words I was interrupted by involuntary sniffles. "Good girls don't fail their leaders. I thought you'd learned that by now.." he paused, and I held my breath as I remembered the multiple occasions I had watched others being brutalized for mistakes smaller than the one I had just made. "You know I have to punish you, right? It wouldn't be right for you to get away with screwing up this big." he circled me as I bit my lip, trying to hold back tears and completely unable to respond. "Say something, little lamb." he paused before feigning concern "Aw, are you scared? is that it?" I looked up and nodded my head. "Well, you should be. I'm furious with you. and you know what I'm like when I'm furious at someone." my heart pounded in my chest as I scrambled to find the right words to say- if that was at all possible. "Please Kai-" I stop myself midway through using his name, knowing that will only further my punishment "-Divine Ruler, I'm so sorry I am. you know I would never purposely sabotage you, sir" I say as my lips tremble and hot tears begin to stream down my face. He leans in, impossibly close to me before continuing to speak. "How cute. Look at how much you're crying for me when I haven't even hurt you- yet." "Yet..?" I stutter watching a sadistic grin spread across his face. "That's right, little lamb. I haven't decided how I'm going to punish you yet, but there'll be a punishment, I can assure you that much." Another moment of silence as I try and think of some sort of response- to no avail, of course. "Perhaps it's time I really whipped you into shape, little lamb. Maybe then you'll learn how to behave properly like a good little girl would." His tone is cruel and sharp enough to cut glass. I inhaled deeply "Please- Divine Ruler don't you think there isn't any need for that" I looked up at him with doe eyes "I've never failed you before sir it won't happen again- don't I deserve to be let off with a warning" Normally, talking to Kai like this would be a sure-fire way to end up being thrown in a ditch- but I knew deep down he'd be somewhat more lenient with me than the others, considering our relationship. "Oh, you think you deserve to be let off with a warning? Why's that? Because you're my special little lamb, and you've been a good girl up until now?" he pauses with a light chuckle to himself "Well, I'm in a bad mood now, Y/N, so I don't really care what you deserve. I want to punish you, and no amount of pleading and weeping is going to change my mind." he said, with eyes as cold as ice and words as harsh as nails. "I've been such a good girl" I plead with both my tone as well as my eyes "Please baby, I love you" the second sentence I speak in a whisper, knowing Kai would either react extremely negatively to me calling him baby or extremely positively, but no in between. 

To anyone else, it would seem as if he did not react- but I could see his face soften as he soaked in my pleas. He would never admit it, but he liked it when I called him baby. And he liked it even more when I was begging and at his mercy. 

"Baby" my voice quivers as I look up at the man I adore- as well as fear. Kai's expression softens some more, and the cruelty in his eyes has almost completely faded.

"Again."

I take a deep breath of air and try my best to smile sweetly through the tears "Baby, every single thing I do is for you. for us. please" I watch as Kai's breathing becomes heavier. his mouth curls up into an almost predatory smile as he hears my words. "That was perfect," he says, caressing my cheek. I lean into his touch as his thumb circles over my cheekbone. His gaze remains locked on mine, filled with something seeming more like affection than hatred. He continues in a gentler tone "You are my good girl, aren't you?" 

"Of course I am. I would do anything for you." I watch as his grin returns, less sinister and a lot more warm. As fucked up and unhealthy as it was, there isn't anything that turns Kai on more than devotion. 

"Anything?"  

"Anything."

"Good girl," Kai says sweetly as if he had completely forgotten about his earlier anger

"You know what I want from you now, don't you, my little lamb?" I bite my lip, mascara stains my face "Just say the word, and I'll do whatever you want" "Hm... I could still punish you, couldn't I? You failed me when I needed you most.... you've got to atone for that somehow, don't you?" my stomach flips as he leans in even closer to me. "But... maybe I can forgive this time. I am feeling particularly generous today, after all. I've got a better idea."

"Thank you, divine ruler. you really are good to me. please tell me, what idea are you talking about sir" I ask in my softest tone, letting Kai take the rails. "Don't play dumb with me, sweetheart... you know very well what I'm talking about." he draws his hand even lower, moving it up my thigh, slowly inching upward. I throw my head back and hiss slightly as his hand trails up my thigh, a shock of pleasure courses through my body at the small contact he makes. "I'll do whatever you want. I live to serve you. Just please- untie me from the chair, baby" Kai takes a moment to think to himself before he begins unties to me. As the bonds are undone, I can feel the blood rush to my limbs once more, relief washing over me after what seemed like an eternity of suffering.

 "Good girl. Now... get on your knees."

Feel free to give me constructive criticism! I am also thinking of starting a taglist so let me know if you want to be tagged in part two/future fics. Thanks!

[kryativelogos]

Cinder's Racial Ambiguity Frustrates Me (Spoilers for The Lunar Chronicles)

Hi hello long time no post! I haven't had a chance to really consumed any media until just recently so I'm finally back with another review!

Today we're gonna talk about The Lunar Chronicles, written by Marissa Meyer, and published in 2012. I had read this novel back in 2015/2016 when Fairest and Winter were newly released and had the opportunity to reread it (albeit in audiobook form) these past few months. Buckle up babes, I have a lot to say.

I wanna just say right off the bat that in terms of world-building, plot, and even character design, this story still holds up quite well from when I read it the first time. From how each character gets their own time to shine and development, to how they all connect with one another, I loved seeing the major plot unfold and how it concluded so nicely.

But I do want to discuss something that has bothered me from the first time that I read this series and still does after reading it a second time: Cinder's race.

Now you may be wondering, why do we care what Cinder's race is? Well, I'm Asian, Singaporean to be specific. And it would be great if Cinder's race was Asian/Chinese as the website, as the author, and as most people in the fandom believe to be. However, I am skeptical for this to be the case at all.

We don't know what race(s) the Lunars are.

They're an "evolved" race of humans that have magical abilities. Even Meyer herself states that the ethnicities start to blend because it's so far in the future. It's already quite difficult to pinpoint specific ethnic groups just in the royal family.

Queen Channary had olive skin and dark brown hair which could be a myriad of ethnicities and races although I'm heavily inclined to believe that she is/was South/Southeast Asian due to her name being taken from the Khmer dialect found in Cambodia [evidently in the wiki]. Even Queen Jannali was described to have had tan skin and chestnut colored hair, which again, says nothing about her race, but her name was taken from the Aboriginal language [also found on the wiki] so that may count for,,, something. Essentially, following Cinder's lineage, we already have little evidence to support the idea that Cinder is Asian, let alone Chinese.

Cinder's description in the book did not help her case (and I believe Meyer attempted to retcon this later on, like, look at the new covers - she looks so [East] Asian, but then you read the description in the actual book??).

Her first description in Cinder was tan skin, angular body, and mousy brown hair. Mousy implies, light brown. Literally look up "mousy brown hair" online, you'll see a bunch of eurocentric, white women. No Asian that I know, naturally, has "mousy" brown hair unless you dye it or it is heavily sun-bleached (which has happened to me but still not light enough to be considered "mousy", I could have safely called it brown). Cinder was also told by the end of the book, that she was found in Europe. You can see that as someone who's been wanting an Asian MC would be disappointed with finding out that ah, she must be European (and later, more than likely, French). Even if Cinder was Wasian, I believe genetically, the dark hair would have been dominant. I can't say the same for the tan skin since she was outdoors a lot and Asian folks do tan quite easily in the sun and remains tanned for at least 6-8 months.

I would love for Cinder to be Asian, I really would, but all of this evidence just keeps her race too ambiguous personally. I can't seem to get over the "mousy brown hair". If not for this particular descriptor, I would 100% believe Cinder to be Asian. But because we don't even know Channary or Jannali's race with only their names as some kind of clue to Cinder's background, we will never know for sure.

I don't think it helps that a majority of fanart I see of Cinder has very eurocentric features, which draws me back to her thinking she's French/European. It also bothers me that while Winter and Iko get rather well-written descriptions of what they look like (aka black), we can't seem to get one good description, showing some form of Asian representation that I'm sure many of us are grasping at straws for, of the main character of the series. So many of us are still hoping that Cinder is Asian simply because she's living in New Beijing (which I will be making another post at some point about how I, personally believe, is a poorly designed/created city in terms of world-building) but she's literally adopted from Europe (Luna if you wanna get technical, see the first point).

I know my points are kind of moot and there wasn't much warrant for me to go on a tirade about a fictional character created in 2012. But this is important to me as a WOC, as an Asian girlie who so wants to connect to a character that looks like me, that was written to look like me; but I feel cheated and the ambiguity makes it hard for me to fully love Cinder as much as I love the other characters (if anyone is asking, my favorite characters are Winter and Scarlet). If anyone else has thoughts about this or has something to prove to me once and for all that Cinder is Asian. Please send it my way.

PS I wish I had a physical copy to directly quote the book, but again, my second reread was through audiobooks, so I can't reference pages at all atm. Sorry about that TuT Hopefully I can get my hands on a copy from the library soon so I can edit this post with direct lines.

[thegayhimbo]

Stranger Things Zombie Boys Review

Synopsis: It’s been a year since Will disappeared and was rescued from the Upside Down. Now he and his friends are attempting to adjust back to normal with little success. Will is struggling with PTSD, and his friends are on-edge as they’re failing in school. At Mr. Clarke’s suggestion, they team up with a new transfer student named Joey Kim, an aspiring director, who encourages the Party to make a zombie movie for extra credit, as well as to help them come to terms with what happened the previous fall.......

Observations:

Unlike prior reviews, this one won’t be thick with theories and speculations about season 5. This is a stand-alone graphic novel that focuses on the trauma and internal issues the characters go through following the events of season 1. I appreciate this because, while I do like what season 2 did with its exploration of trauma and grief, there were aspects the show didn’t have time to fully flesh-out before they threw these characters into life threatening situations again. Having a story that goes more in-depth about their struggles (and does so in a mature way) is refreshing.

This graphic novel is written by Greg Pak. He would also go on to write for Stranger Things The Bully, the short story Erica’s Quest, Stranger Things Tomb of Ybwen, and Stranger Things Erica the Great!

The artwork for the graphic novel is beautiful. Hats off to Valeria Favoccia for the artwork, Dan Jackson for the coloring, Ron Chan for the cover art, and Nate Piekos for the lettering.

The idea of the Party making a Zombie Movie and drawing on past experiences to write their story and craft certain scenes was fantastic. There are plenty of people in real life who use creative outlets (writing, filmmaking, drawing, etc) to deal with personal stuff that’s happened in their lives, and I’m glad the graphic novel touches on that. Bonus points for showing some of Will’s drawings:

They do explore the issues other members of the Party are dealing with, but Will is at the center of the plot. At this point, he hasn’t really dealt with what happened to him in the Upside Down. His drawings, as well as his attempts to have Joey direct the film as a comedy, are a coping mechanism so that he doesn’t have to relive past trauma. There are parts of the graphic novel that are difficult to read because his friends have a hard time understanding where Will is coming from and why he treats the movie as a joke. It doesn’t help that, barring Will, none of them really want to talk about what happened.

But of course, making the zombie movie allows them to open up. Not only do they have fun doing so, but it also leads to a comforting scene towards the end:

Speaking of which, they introduce a new character named Joey Kim, who directs the Party in his Zombie film:

Joey falls into the category of “Characters who sadly weren’t on the show, but should have been” levels of cool.

Not only is he an aspiring director with a knowledge about how films are made (and whose mom works for Sony), but he manages to blend in well with the Party, and his friendship with them feels authentic. He’s empathetic towards Will, listens to Will’s creative input (even if he doesn’t always agree with it), and it’s heavily implied he isn’t just making the movie because it’s a fun idea, but because he’s trying to help Will deal with his issues:

On top of that, he’s one of the few characters who comes to Lucas’s defense when he’s targeted by Troy and James.....

.....and he genuinely listens to Lucas when Lucas worries about their film invoking the “Black Character Dies First” trope:

I wish he'd been on the show and became a permanent member of the Party. I love his character! 😊

Speaking of Lucas, they pretty much cement that while Troy and James frequently target the Party for bullying, their harassment of Lucas is racially motivated. From their slurs directed at Lucas, to this particularly nasty moment:

I know this isn’t the only time in the series Lucas has been targeted out of racism (*cough* Billy Hargrove *cough*), but for all the fans who repeatedly insist this isn’t something Lucas to deal with.....................YES IT IS! Even the novel Lucas on the Line goes in-depth about it, and provides Lucas with a first-person perspective about all the hateful bullshit he puts up with on a daily basis. To put it bluntly: I don’t have any patience for fans out there who either want to pretend Lucas hasn’t been subjected to bigotry, or who want to downplay/erase the racism that other characters on the show and in the comics/books have directed at Lucas.

I also like how they call back to Mike’s grief over losing El, and how Dustin (despite initially appearing to be adjusted) is also trying to sort out his own problems:

It’s sweet to see the Party bonding and continuing to reinforce their friendship. I love how the Zombie movie they made was a success, and how the graphic novel ends on an uplifting note:

Also, the makeup they used for Zombie Will and Zombie Mike was great 😅 :

Overall, this is a must-read. I enjoyed it, and it’s one of my personal favorites.

Side Note: I recently got a new phone that I’ve been using to get photos for these reviews, and I’m still figuring out how to use it. I know previous reviews I’ve done have had pictures/photos that appear sideways instead of upright, and I will be going back to fix those.

[fuh-saw-t]

An Overly-Opinionated Guide On Commas:

I, personally, have an extreme love-hate relationship with commas. They can be useful in making your writing coherent and understandable, helping construct beautiful, smooth-flowing sentences. But there are a lot of common mistakes to be made, and a surprising amount of controversy around when and where commas should be used.

So, let's discuss.

Subordinate Clauses

A comma, in essence, indicates a smaller break – a 'soft pause', like taking a brief breath whilst reading. Usually, comma usage is for notating subordinate clauses or lists (though these can be stretched).

The concept of the subordinate clause is something I find a lot of beginner writers haven't taken into consideration, or don't know about. It's a simple way of understanding syntax and how to make your writing cohesive.

Complex sentences are sentences that contain a subordinate clause:

When you mix in the carrot, which should be grated, make sure you fold in figures of eight.

She taught him to draw—a skill he had long since mastered—and was ever impressed with the artwork he produced.

Instead, we decided to narrow down the scope of our research.

A subordinate clause is a section of a sentence, marked with commas (or, in other cases, dashes or brackets), that can be removed without influencing the grammatical sense of the sentence. The subordinate clause does not function as a grammatically-correct sentence alone. Using the last example, 'instead' is the subordinate clause. A subordinate clause can be in the middle, beginning, or end of a sentence, and there can be multiple. You can form these clauses by separating a word or phrase that is not essential to understanding the sentence's meaning.

When writing, keep these clauses in mind. Think about the placement of your commas and how they influence the meaning and structure of your sentence.

The Oxford Comma

Commas are also useful when listing, but always keep in mind that there are other options such as semicolons, colons, and separate sentences to diversify the punctuation in your writing.

When listing, there is one particular consideration, potentially the most contentious of all decisions to make, in terms of using commas. It concerns the Oxford comma.

The Oxford comma can come into play when listing three or more items. An item, in this context, can refer to nouns, verbs, or adjective phrases. Commas are used to separate items when listing, but the Oxford comma is an optional comma Separating the second-to-last item.

For example,

The depth of his sins had been unveiled: an uninterrupted life of sinning, deceiving, and stealing.

At the shops, we bought chocolate, marshmallows, and those little heart-indented sweets that had cute yet barely readable messages imprinted on them.

She did many things in her life; Eloise spent many years dancing, singing, praying, and dying.

The Oxford comma, as I view it, is something that is entirely up to you. It should be based on your style and the message you wish to convey in whatever particular sentence you're writing. As an example of how the comma can slightly change the meaning of a sentence – adding a subtle hint or flare to your writing – I point your attention to the third sentence. By removing the Oxford comma between 'praying' and 'dying,' it can be interpreted as implying the two are related or done in tandem.

This is one of the arguments that has influenced the use of the Oxford comma; while many may see it as unnecessary or tacky - something that should always be avoided - I see it as something that can prevent two items from being interpreted as related to one another.

Most writers and guides will tell you to always be consistent in your use of the Oxford comma – if you use it once, always use it. However, though I emphasise consistency heavily in writing, I see this as the one exception. Of course, I'm not a professional. Though I will express that, in my view, the usage of commas and punctuation in general (aside from speech indicators) should be catered to whatever individual meaning you are trying to express.

But generally, I'd say there's a few instances where your choice of punctuation should primarily be down to style and what you believe looks better on the page.

Stylistic Choice

As if the rest of this post (and blog) wasn't opinionated enough, here's just a fat slab of my own punctuation opinions.

Don't over-punctuate. Don't. Watch out for the amount of commas you are using, and read your sentences out loud. If you're pausing too often or if it doesn't sound quite right, perhaps look over it another time to see which punctuation marks should be removed and which ones should stay.

On the other hand, be careful about under-punctuating. Sentences that are drawn out like 'He was utterly shocked at the impressive amount of skill a person had to exert in order to pull that jump off under the pressure of the World Tournament'. If you struggle to breathe whilst reading a sentence aloud, perhaps attempt to reword it. However, in some specific cases, under-punctuating can aid your 'vibe'. That's the only word that could fit.

Experiment with commas and other methods of punctuating your writing. Punctuation is more important than you think in the quality of your writing and story; it can make your writing appear more professional and cohesive, and it can enhance what meanings you are able to express through your accompanying words.

I think I may have said this before, but I'd advise doing what I like to call 'meta-writing'. Write with your reader in mind, thinking about what your writing sounds like in a literal sense. Sentences with a lot of commas will sound more drawn out and slow – something that can benefit you in some circumstances, and hinder you in others. Vice versa, sentences with no commas seem quicker and, if they're long, less planned-out. Again, this can be advantageous in some situations while being detrimental in others.

Common Mistakes

It's harder than it looks.

Rules that, unlike almost every other grammar rule, I do not advise breaking:

Separating a subject from its verb.

'My dog, has a collar.'

It doesn't sound right, does it? Although commas are a great tool to chop up sentences, making sure your clauses aren't that long, there are a lot of times where removing them is best. With the example phrase, I think we can all agree that 'My dog has a collar.' is a sentence that looks better, sounds better, and makes more sense overall.

Not putting commas before conjunctions.

This ties into what I said previously about under-punctuating. If you have a long-winded sentence with no commas, perhaps look into whether or not you have punctuated before your conjunctions.

Conjunctions are words that connect together phrases, words, and clauses, such as 'and', 'for,' and 'although'. I'd heavily recommend placing a comma prior to conjunctions, as it separates them as 'complete thoughts' and defines a subordinate clause. For example:

Giving up, he dropped to his knees limply, for he was already too late.

We could go to the beach, and perhaps stop by Ma's house on the way.'

Your wound seems to be healing fine, though I am still concerned about the state of your eye.

I believe these can be omitted in some certain situations, perhaps if under-punctuating is a common theme in your particular story (I do this when writing from a certain character's POV, as he taught himself to write and becomes quite erratic). Overall, though, I do stand by this rule.

Not using them to separate quotations.

This is the part where I abandon my British heritage, and give in to the Americans. I personally prefer the American method of quotation, so this is what I'll work off.

Speech should be, in multiple ways, embedded in your writing. They aren't a separate entity from the rest of your work. A way to do this is through using the correct punctuation for your speech, e.g,

He muttered, "Leave me alone," with a trembling break in his voice.

She looked into Emily's eyes with a ghost-like stare and said, "It wasn't your fault."

"It's not like we can just stop him from going ahead with his plan," Cody trailed off, pacing around the room. "Can we?"

I used full stops at times instead of commas before, because I thought it looked better. Spoiler alert: it doesn't. It really doesn't. So keep an eye out for any missing or replaced commas.

Aaaand that's all I can think about at present. Asks are open, as always, and I accept almost any questions to do with writing and the English language. Asks, reblogs and other interactions are always welcome! It's great to see new people who are interested in this otherwise boring stuff.

Hopefully this was helpful to someone!

[lampmanliveblogs]

Elsewhere and Elsewhen Addendum

Ring ring

Hey, you guys hear that?

Ring ring

The phone’s ringing. One of you better pick it up BECAUSE I CALLED IT!

Ha ha! Oh, it feels good to be right! Now to try and figure out literally everything else.

As per usual, I did a rewatch the episode and here are a few small things I either missed or didn’t talk about the first time through.

•So first off, Flora D’splora. Is named after Dora the Explorer. This is such an obvious reference that I when I did get it a few minutes later, I had to go back and make a note about it just so you all wouldn’t think I was completely behind the float. Her whip might also be a reference to Dora’s friend Boots. •In Past!Bonesborough we see two rather familiar-looking characters. The first looks very similar to that one Hexside student with a giant eyeball for a head. Eileen, I think? The second is a little kid that looks almost disturbingly similar to a little kid from present-time Bonesbrorugh. •In addition to his palisman, it looks like Philip might be keeping Blue Fang’s blue fang in his bag. Which is even more messed up. •Right before he teleports off, I couldn’t quite make out what Philip was saying. After a little bit of digging, I learned a new expression. Catspaw, or cat’s paw. A person who is used by another to carry out a dangerous or unpleasant task.

Note: I’m still going to refer to Philip and Belos as separate people, even though they’re not. Philip will refer to the man he was before he put on the mask, called himself a prophet and started conquering the Boiling Isles. That man is Belos.

This was a very good episode. Right of the bat, the one big stand-out moment was the reveal at the end. But it was great overall. We not only learned more about Philip, we even got to meet him and by Titan is he a scumbag.

I’m not really sure what else I was expecting.

Obviously, as I knew the truth in my heart all along, I wasn’t surprised by the twist, but I was a little surprised by just how evil Philip was even back then. I figured his descent into evil was something that came slower, more gradual over the many years he sent in the Demon Realm. Turns out that no, he was always like that.

Weeeell… I guess that, at the moment, I can’t say that he was always like that… but it’s heavily implied.

Just… the way he acts. From the very moment he meets Luz he begins laying the groundwork for manipulating her. It comes so natural to him. Even though he initially didn’t plan on bringing Luzura & Dirtrude along, he was still doing his limping schtick, eliciting sympathy from them. He delights in toying with them and has a little chuckle over how terrible Luzura’s lying is. There is also the implication that he’s done this multiple times, luring people with him on his dangerous adventures, only to leave them for dead once they’ve served their use.

At the same time, he makes himself out to be the good guy in his diary, fashioning himself the brave hero, a lone wise man surviving the harsh struggles on his way home. Sounds kinda familiar.

Then we have his racism. Again, I’m not sure what I expected from a colonizer form the 1600s, but there we go. All indications are that Bonesborough in the past was a safer place than the present. People seem nicer and less hostile and it is very obviously a civilized society. Yet as he retreats back to his dingy, dark cave where he keeps rotting carcasses and discarded palismen, Philip rants about those barbaric witches. One could argue that he’s just talking about Lilith, since she punched him, but come on. You know what he means.

I do think that some of it might come from his lack of natural magic though. He obviously desires power and to gain more of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out that the reason he tattooed the glyphs directly onto his arm was because he wanted to be able to use magic without having to draw the glyphs. You know, like witches with bile sacs do. Based on what we’ve seen of Belos in the future, he must’ve succeeded to some extent… but at a price. That being that his human body is just not built for it.

Philip’s brother remains a mystery. We see a drawing of him on Philip’s map to Eclipse Lake, implying he went there with Philip and the others. I did notice in Eclipse Lake (the episode) during the flashback, that there were two identical footprints leading into the caves. One was Philip, but the other might’ve been his brother.

If Philip really did get his brother killed in those caves alongside everyone else with them like his behavior in this episode hints at… then that raises a few questions regarding a Bad but Sad boy from the future. I’ve got… some ideas, but none of them have much evidence behind them. The Philip=Belos thing didn’t initially either, but that was different. For now, I’ll say that magic was involved. What kind of magic, I don’t know.

Speaking of things i don’t know, it’s a lot. Like… just what in the world is it that Philip is trying to do? Because it seems like the Day of Unity is something he’s had in the works even since before he finished his portal door back home. He said that ”I just have to live long enough to see this through,” and then proceeded to power through some three hundred and fifty years. Whatever he’s planning, it better be worth it.

Also, The Collector. Who? What? Why? When? Where?

I also feel the need to just throw this one out there: I’ve pondered about just how much Belos remembers of the events in this episode. It’s heavily implied that the wound Lilith gave him is what eventually grew into the horrific scar on his face in the present, so that particular event probably stuck in his mind. On the other hand, it was over three hundred years ago. It is very likely some details would slip his memory.

The reason I bring this up is because if he does remember what happened more or less perfectly, that raises the question of whether he ever recognized Lilith as the woman that hurt him oh so bad oh so long ago. Furthermore, does he recognize Luz as the crab maiden Luzura who had a great interest in how to get to the Human Realm? If that’s the case, then his words (through Terra) last episode about looking forward to meeting her could take on a different meaning.

Speaking of which, I briefly speculated in the liveblog about how the time travel rules worked. It appears to be a stable time loop. That being, the past cannot be changed, whatever a time traveler does on their trip back in time was always a part of history. We see this demonstrated when Lilith trips over a non-existent rock, later revealed to be her own head when she stuck it in one of the time pools. This is further confirmed by Philip/Belos’s scar being caused by Lilith.

So Luz & Lulu were always meant to travel back in time. If Belos figured this out, then it might’ve been that he sent Flora with Lilith’s belongings, including the device to locate time pools to The Owl House in order to ensure they did travel back in time. It could also explain why Terra stopped Kikimora from arresting (and potentially hurting) Luz last episode. He has to make sure she goes back in time, or else it could result in some nasty paradoxes.

Except, wait, he threw Lilith in the cage to be petrified at the end of season one, so he couldn’t have known about it back then, so-

Aaaaaand I’ll stop right there. Time travel is one of those things one shouldn’t think too much about. I could go on forever talking about time travel and all the things I don’t know, questions I have and various half-baked theories and speculation. But that wouldn’t lead anywhere. So this swill be it for now.

I’ll see you when I start on the next episode, whenever that will be. Until then, take care of the planet Earth and remember that anything can happen in space!

<--Previous Episode: Follies at the Coven Day Parade

Masterlist

Next Episode: TBD-->

[red-dyed-sarumane]

An entire novel in one song!!! I remember you mentioning how some Hiiragi Magnetite fans are just there for the music and not the story…I completely understand the annoyance. This is a lot of work and dedication to ignore wtff.

Btw is there an actual order in a timeline? Or is there mostly snippets of specific events…does anyone remember anything when the world ends or are these people just dead now? (Literally or figuratively?) They’re all different people now? I can understand the concept of time overlapping and repeating but it does bring up a lot of questions. (Swampman is funny eheh) aND whats the deal with miss angel from oumen mokushiroku? You draw her often! I could keep going with the Q’s but I’ll stop there…actually I already asked a lot I am sorry asgkdgkdj _(:3 」∠)_

i love all hiiragi magnetite fans but im extending friendship to anyone who cares about plot bc those are kind of few even on the jpn side of things

in terms of timeline the one thing i can say for sure is kyuuyaku hankagai is the furthest is the past, though i dont think it's the start of everything. the rest of the timeline im not quite sure about and its not posted in time order.

aru sekai shoushitsu is more of an objective overview im not sure i'd put it on the timeline or if i did it'd be near the end since they know of everything that's happened. so we'll start with kyuuyaku as the oldest. the next place could go either shuuen touhikou since i dont think the chara's clothes or the fact katanas are mentioned so often are exactly modern, though they also have technology so it's not too ancient OR kugutsu ashura since they seem to be so heavily implied to be related. everything else seems to be more in present day so to speak. i think i'd say marshall maximizer → oumen mokushiroku → canon → unplanned apoptosis is the most likely order, but they're all from different chara's perspectives so its a little hard to say for sure since theyre all in different scenarios. these all seem to be in the same instance of the world too for the most part.

im not sure how much they remember between repeats. it hasnt been shown off much that i've noticed. there is a line in the text of aru sekai that's like "she closed her eyes, and i softly opened mine, that world had disappeared" so i think that means they're pretty aware of what's happening & they remember what they've tried before in order to tweak it and try again. i think they're at least vaguely aware that they died & i guess in a way theyre all the swampman in that sense.

there's actually nothing special about the angel in oumen mokushiroku i just think she's neat. she wants to help but due to things (whatever happened in canon i think) she cant actually reach out and do anything about it so she's just as distraught as everyone else. she's not even the one we have a possible clue on her name (a friend and i think the kyuuyaku girl might be named layla possibly even layla kyuuyaku bc kyuuyaku is in fact a valid last name & we cant figure out any other meaning for レイラ in the aru sekai lyrics for kyuu) as of right now all the names are secret as said by hiiragi magnetite themself though. she's got a lot of symbolism in just her art alone though with the whole broken umbrella and everything. like she's supposed to be everyone's protection and she cant even do that one thing. i just like her

u can absolutely keep asking questions i love this series theres so much going on its fun to try explaining

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin goes home for a little while, determined to enjoy a well-earned vacation;

Camelot immediately falls apart, with the sole exceptions of Guinevere and Gaius.

Merlin knows Arthur really well.

Which just means he knows exactly how to get him to let his servant go home for two weeks to visit his mother and relax a little:

“You just don’t want me to go because you know you can’t cope without me! Look, if you want to come with me, that’s fine, but you’ll struggle just as much there as you would here because I refuse to act as your servant in my own home.”

Arthur turns red, looking outraged as he loses the ability to speak. Merlin turns around before The King can see his satisfied smirk, tidying around the prat’s chambers with exaggerated annoyance as he just waits for the inevitable-

“Fine! Go! See if I even notice that you’re gone! Honestly, Merlin, the running of the Kingdom will probably end up going smoother without you here to mess things up, you bumbling idiot.”

Merlin grins to himself before schooling his face back into annoyance and turning around with a huff, crossing his arms petulantly:

“Fine!”

The servant decides that he’d better leave, what with the way he was struggling to keep the victorious grin from his face, so without waiting for a response, he “storms” from the room, slamming the door behind him as dramatically as he’s able when he hears Arthur yell:

“FINE!”

~

Merlin sets off at the beginning of the next week. Gaius had raised a disapproving eyebrow when his ward had told him how he’d gotten Arthur to agree to such a long vacation, but didn’t say anything. They both knew that the elderly physician thought it was funny.

Gwen and Morgana make sure to see him out of the castle gates with big hugs, and whilst all of the knights were meant to be training, it came as no surprise to anyone when Gwaine slacks off for half a candle-mark to say goodbye as well. Mordred shoots him a quick goodbye across their mental link as the servant walks away from the city, after promising Merlin that he would warn him if anyone was in any serious danger (”Serious danger only, Mordred, I mean it. If I get called home because Arthur is throwing some sort of tantrum, then I’ll act out your destiny for you.”).

Merlin’s journey goes smoothly. The world was hovering in the junction between Spring and Summer, but with a little magical manipulation, the Warlock had no trouble staying warm and keeping his feet beneath him on the uneven path. Unsurprisingly, the young man is a lot less clumsy when he doesn’t have to focus on keeping his magic locked away so tightly.

Two days after his departure from Camelot, his mother is greeting him outside her little house with a long hug and a wide grin, stroking a hand through his hair as she welcomes him home.

Coincidentally, that’s also about the time things started going to shit for everyone else.

~

It was just after noon when Elyan had to be carried to Gaius’ chambers, his whole body juddering as he struggles to draw breath, the lack of oxygen from his throat closing up mixed with the panic making his brain go fuzzy.

Percival holds him up from one side and Leon holds him from the other, the two of them bursting through the physician’s door just as Elyan’s eyes roll back in his head. Gaius looks up suddenly, obviously startled by the abrupt intrusion, but he swiftly focuses, eyes wide and assessing as he quickly points them to a patient pallet:

“What happened?”

The two knights lay him down as carefully as they can before standing out of the way as Leon forces out an answer, trying to catch his breath between words:

“I don’t know, servants brought lunch out whilst we were training so we stopped to eat and he just started... wheezing. We thought he was choking at first but he said he couldn’t breathe. Has... has he been poisoned? We stopped everyone from eating.”

Gaius had gathered a handful of odd looking dried leaves the moment Leon mentioned the food, recognising the symptoms of an allergic reaction and putting two and two together immediately. He crushes them in his hands quickly, knowing he didn’t have time for a proper mortar and pestle as he shoves the crumbs into Elyan’s mouth, following through with a vile of something green and gross-smelling

He massages the odd concoction down Elyan’s throat as best he can around the swelling, and lets out a relieved smile when the knight’s eyes blow wide open and he chokes slightly before swallowing it all, grimacing at the taste but breathing deeply as his airways open again.

Leon and Percival let out similar breathes of relief when Elyan begins breathing again, chuckling breathlessly at his disgusted groan. The door bursts open again before anyone can say anything, and Arthur strides in, his flushed cheeks and rumpled clothes implying he had sprinted across the castle in his panic.

He spots Elyan on the pallet, his deep breaths interspersed with the odd cough, and his eyes widen even further as he looks to Gaius for an explanation:

“A servant told me something was wrong, what happened?!”

The King loses a little of the tension in his shoulders when Elyan waves a thumbs-up in his vague direction, but still looks frantically between the two knights and the physician as he waits for an answer. Percival wordlessly moves to Elyan’s side, running a hand up and down the man’s arm as Leon looks to Gaius expectantly:

“He had an allergic reaction, likely to nuts in the food. He should be fine, but he needs a day or two of rest, and to come back to me immediately if his throat swells again.”

Arthur sags in relief, nodding his approval of Elyan’s needed bedrest, but Leon’s eyes go wide as he lets out a knowing noise:

“Of course! I forgot about his allergy, it hasn’t been an issue since we were kids.”

Gaius nods knowingly and begins reorganising the jars he had knocked over when the knights had startled him:

“Hmm. I imagine he watched what he ate carefully when he was travelling, but Merlin keeps an eye on all of your food now.”

Leon frowns slightly as he tilts his head in confusion, but Arthur beats him to the punch, asking incredulously:

“What do you mean, Merlin keeps an eye on our food?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow, holding in his smirk as he slowly replies:

“Well, Merlin is usually the one to bring food out to you when you train, is he not? And on days he can’t he always speaks with the kitchen staff to double check what food is going where. Sir Elyan is not the only one with an allergy, My Lord. Merlin always makes sure any food the seven of you are given is safe. He has a tendency to check the Lady Morgana’s meals as well, whenever he’s able.”

Arthur is too taken aback to reply, his mouth hanging open, but that is when Percival looks up from his place at Elyan’s side, a confused frown on his face:

“Why?”

Gaius doesn’t manage to hold his smile in at that, looking between the three knights, and Elyan, who has just about managed to regain his breath:

“To avoid situations like this, I imagine, and to check for poison. It’s not uncommon for assassins to try and lace the royal’s food with something or other.”

Arthur finally shuts his mouth, only to open it again, speaking slowly:

“So... Merlin checks all of our food?”

Gaius nods:

“Religiously, Sire.”

Leon and Percival just shrug, adding it to their list of Weird Things About Merlin That They Should Be Grateful For, and Elyan smiles goofily from his place on the bed (whether it was the lack of oxygen or something funky in the vial, the knight didn’t know, but he was definitely still feeling a little... odd), but Arthur just frowns deeper, muttering a distracted “Take it easy.” to Elyan before walking stiffly from the room.

The King makes quick work of the journey back to the council meeting, desperately trying to persuade himself that this was nothing to do with him not being able to cope without Merlin. Elyan was the one not coping, clearly. Merlin was still wrong and stupid and Arthur hadn’t even noticed that he was gone until Gaius brought him up (a lie, he missed him terribly, but shhh).

Leon and Percival look to Gaius in confusion when Arthur had almost stormed from the room, and the Physician simply smiles again, the amusement shining clearly in his eyes:

“Merlin persuaded Arthur to let him take a holiday by heavily implying that he couldn’t cope with Merlin’s absence.”

Percival snorts with laughter and Leon raises an eyebrow as he grins:

“Arthur took that as a challenge then, I suppose? Two days in and we’ve already got The King sprinting from meetings because a knight has collapsed from an allergic reaction... because Merlin wasn’t here...”

Gaius just nods, and Percival mutters an amused:

“This will be entertaining.”

~

Arthur steadfastly refuses to acknowledge that the next mini disaster, a few days later, was also down to Merlin’s absence.

Ok, so maybe it was because Merlin wasn’t here, but ultimately, it was Gwaine that messed up, not Arthur. So it didn’t count.

The knight came back from a night patrol that he’d taken with The King with an infected gash on his arm. Arthur grins teasingly as he describes to Gaius how the knight had tripped on a loose cobblestone and scratched his arm on the sharp edge of a stray cart at the beginning of the patrol, and Gaius hums disapprovingly as he unwraps the scrap of fabric Gwaine had used as a bandage:

“Did you not have any medical supplies in your pack? Or did you think it best to let it get infected so I had to wake an hour before dawn to deal with it?”

Gwaine swings his dangling legs back and forth from where he sits on Gaius’ table, pouting sheepishly as he admits:

“I looked, but there wasn’t anything helpful in there, usually the armoury-hands have them stocked up for the patrols, I guess they missed mine.”

Arthur rolls his eyes at Gwaine’s seeming ineptitude, but his scolding is interrupted before it even begins when Gaius shakes his head in disagreement:

“Hmm. The servants that work in the armoury only tend to check the packs every few weeks, and even then they only check if they need any repairs. Merlin is the one with easier access to patrol rotas, so he’s the one who stocks them up on a day to day basis.”

Gwaine just nods in understanding, as if he should’ve expected that, but Arthur’s smile drops as he unfolds his arms, getting over his annoyed speechlessness in a matter of seconds:

“You’re telling me that Merlin, my personal manservant, is responsible for all the knights’ patrol packs?”

Gaius finishes cleaning Gwaine’s wound, muttering a quiet apology when the knight hisses at the first poke of the needle, speaking slowly as he focuses on making sure the stitches were neat and uniform:

“No, Sire. Technically the knights are meant to take care of their own packs, but Merlin is a paranoid man, he likes to double check things to make sure everyone has what they need. I suppose some people got used to having it done for them.”

Gwaine winces abashedly, making a mental note to remind the others to check their packs before their next patrols, but Arthur rolls his eyes, crossing his arms again and immediately accepting that this little incident was therefore Gwaine’s fault, and not down to Merlin's absence.

The voice in his head sounded a little doubtful, but he ignores it, choosing instead to chide his rebellious:

“Do try to pay attention to your own responsibilities, Sir Gwaine, I’d hate to see something terrible happen to you because you’re unable to complete your own simple tasks.”

Gwaine just sticks his tongue out petulantly, looking away from The King before he can see the blonde’s rolled eyes. Arthur huffs at his childishness, turning around to cover his grin and speaking over his shoulder as he walks from the room:

“You will be on time for once, Gwaine, training starts in a few hours and I want to see you bright and early.”

Gwaine just smirks, waiting for the door to shut behind Arthur before moving his sly, curious eyes to the physician in front of him:

“He’s missing Merlin, then?”

Gaius just gives him a knowing glance before looking back down at the now stitched gash, gathering bandages:

“I’d imagine so, though he’d never admit it. Merlin implied that Arthur wouldn’t cope with his absence,-”

Gwaine interrupts him with a laugh:

“Hence his insistence that it was entirely my fault?”

Gaius nods wordlessly, and Gwaine snorts, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

Meanwhile, Arthur stalks back towards his chambers, eager to get out of his armour and get into bed; Gwaine had training in a few hours, but so did he, and he needed at least a little sleep. He purses his lips in annoyance as his gaze falls upon the clinical cleanliness of his room... George had been in then. 

Look... Arthur being used to a slightly messy room did NOT mean he depended on Merlin. And Gwaine not being used to having to actually organise himself ALSO didn’t mean that Merlin was... ok. Maybe Gwaine relies on Merlin a little.

So that’s Sir Elyan and Sir Gwaine, two of The King’s most trusted knights, who can’t cope without Merlin. But Arthur is doing just fine. It’s been half a week and he is just. Fine.

Just fine.

~

It was the next day that things began going wrong a little more... drastically.

George wakes Arthur up for training on time because of course he does. Arthur had found himself losing out on a lot of sleep without Merlin insisting he go to bed at a reasonable time, and waking him up late; Merlin had gotten into the habit of snatching Arthur’s paperwork away and holding it out of reach until The King agreed to go to sleep, and somehow manages to fit Arthur’s entire morning routine into half a candle-mark. George would never snatch away Arthur’s paperwork, and he takes so much longer in the mornings meaning Arthur has to wake up earlier.

Not that Arthur would ever admit to enjoying his and Merlin’s unorthodox routines. 

Eight more days to go, and he’s fine.

At least... that’s what he thought until a nameless guard approaches the training field, waving him over from his spar with Mordred. Arthur strides over quickly, annoyed at the interruption and nodding at the guard to speak as he drinks from his water-skin:

“My Lord, Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel have arrived. I believe they’re waiting for your presence in the courtyard.”

Arthur chokes, managing to turn his head to the side just in time before he spits a mouthful of water over the guards face. He quickly wipes his mouth and turns back to the pour armoured man with wide eyes:

“That’s today?!

The guard nods hesitatingly:

“Yes, Sire, would you like me-”

He’s interrupted when Arthur shouts a hurried:

“Fuck!” as he drops his water-skin and begins sprinting up the field towards the castle, desperately trying to calculate if he had enough time to wash and change before they got antsy with waiting. Probably not.

Seeing Arthur’s panic and hearing his loud curse, Leon hurriedly approaches the guard, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder as he speaks with a frown:

“Gavin? Is everything alright?”

The guard, Gavin, looks to Leon with a confused frown:

“It would appear that His Majesty... misremembered the date of Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel’s arrival.”

Leon’s eyes go wide and he glances quickly to the castle as he rushes out an exclamation identical to Arthur’s:

“That’s today?!”

Gavin just nods again, and Leon drops the hand from his shoulder, letting out a loud:

“Shit!” as he recreates Arthur’s sprint up to the castle, knowing that he was expected to be at The King’s side when welcoming guests. He doesn’t pause, even when he shouts:

“Lancelot’s in charge!” over his shoulder.

The knights all look to each other in amusement, but Lancelot quickly takes charge, running drills as if he had been doing it his entire life and trusting that, whatever it was, Arthur could get things sorted. And if Arthur couldn’t get things sorted, then Leon would get things sorted. And if Leon couldn’t get things sorted, then Merlin would... oh.

He glances worriedly to the castle just as Leon falls through the door, not bothering to shut it behind him in his panic. Oh.

Arthur lets out the deepest breath of relief he thinks he’s ever experienced when he sees George ahead of him in the corridor; he gestures him over hastily, making the servant jog to keep up with him as he continues his fast pace down the hall:

“I don’t care how many other servants you have to pull from their duties, but I need the castle prepped for Halbert and Ethel’s arrival right now.-”

Arthur barely pays attention to George’s faltering step of shock, just stops suddenly in front of the door that leads down to the courtyard, turning to the servant and putting both hands on his shoulder as he stares at him intensely, face flushed and breathing harsh:

“I need you to do this for me, George. Prepare guest chambers, send someone down to show them to the right rooms, and make sure the Kitchens know they’re feeding two extra nobles for three days, starting today. If you can organise all of that in the next two minutes, I’ll give you a raise and a Godamn hug, you hear me?!”

George gulps, his shoulders tense, his face pale, and his breath frozen in his lungs as he meets Arthur’s frantic gaze with wide eyes. He gives a shaky nod, instantly turning and sprinting down the corridor without a word when Arthur lets go. 

Leon skids around the corner, moving to stand next to Arthur with his hands on his knees as he attempts to catch his breath, speaking in a slight wheeze:

“I... I left Lance... in charge.”

Arthur nods in approval, pulling Leon to stand before holding his hands out to the side, presenting himself for inspection. Leon takes one last deep breath, smoothing the training tunic over Arthur’s shoulders, attempting to rub the dirt from his nose, and brushing a quick hand through his hair before stepping back and holding his own arms out. Arthur pulls a leaf from behind his ear, but is otherwise satisfied, and the two of them turn to the door, schooling their faces and stepping down into the courtyard.

Arthur has a calm, welcoming smile on his face, and Leon stands stiffly behind him, hand on the sword that he luckily had on his hip as he stares blankly ahead.

The nobles seem taken aback at The King's state of undress, but don’t say anything, covering their shock quickly. Arthur’s hoping that his friendly attitude will just give the impression that he’s...approachable and slightly laid back, as opposed to just an idiot who forgot they were coming because no one had reminded him.

Gods. Merlin can never know about this.

~

Thankfully, the next three days went smoothly, or at least as smoothly as possible after Arthur spent an hour rifling through his old mail to try and figure out the original reason for Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel’s visit (watching their eldest’s knighting ceremony, and discussing with Arthur the potential for their youngest to move to the city to become a squire).

He waves them off in a much more regal manner than he had welcomed them, and keeps his promise to George, upping his pay slightly; though he exchanges the hug for an awkward pat on the shoulder, which he thinks both of them were grateful for.

~

He’d successfully made it through nine days. Semi-successfully. He’d just about made it through nine days.

Five more to go. But Arthur was feeling fine about those five days. He’d double checked all his mail, and made sure to find out when his patrols were scheduled.

Which is... unknown to Arthur, where the next problem stems from. 

Arthur wasn’t the one to rota the patrols, he really didn’t have the time to sit down with a list of names and hours and times and maps and organise everything fairly, it was difficult and time-consuming, but he made sure that Leon knew exactly how many hours he could give up for patrol each week.

Apparently, the communication between Leon and the council was normally handled by Merlin, who wasn’t there. So whilst Arthur was enjoying a solo patrol along the city borders at noon, waving at citizens and making his horse do tricks for giggling children, the council were sitting around the table, waiting rather irately for his arrival.

Now normally, this could’ve been easily dealt with, but when the same guard from three days ago gallops over to inform him of the problem and take over his patrol, Arthur was reminded rather suddenly that Merlin was always the one that came up with sensible sounding excuses.

(He also makes a mental note to avoid that guard forever out of embarrassment.)

This was one of the very rare occasions when Arthur simply glares the council into submission. Normally he likes to work with them; he hates to feel like they're just doing what he wants because they were kissing his arse, but he has no excuse other than “I forgot.” and he felt like that was worse than just.. acting like a bit of a dick for five minutes.

So... yeah. Merlin wasn’t there to reorganise the council meeting around Arthur’s patrol, and then also wasn’t there to come up with an excuse for why it wasn’t reorganised.

Arthur makes it ten days before he admits to himself that perhaps he relies on his manservant just a little too much.

~

Four days later, Arthur had missed another council meeting (despite his best efforts), Lancelot and Mordred had accidentally insulted some visiting Lord (and had therefore been told not to leave their rooms until he had vacated the city), and Gwen was no longer speaking to him, on account of The King being a dick without realising because Merlin wasn’t there to rein in his ego and... well... dickishness. That, and his crown had somehow gone missing between yesterday morning and now.

(If that last one had happened even a week prior, Arthur would’ve been adamant that it had been stolen or something else equally not-his-fault, but with how quickly he’d been made aware of his apparent bad memory and social clumsiness, he had every faith that he’d just misplaced it, and Merlin would know exactly where to look.)

Arthur was sitting on the courtyard steps, tunic unlaced at the top and hair a mess when his servant finally, finally walks through the castle gates. The King perks up slightly, but refuses to give Merlin the satisfaction of being run to, so forces himself to remain in place. He was especially glad that he’d made that decision when he saw Guinevere spring over to greet him. He has a feeling she won’t be all that... welcoming, at least not yet.

Merlin wraps her in a tight hug and Arthur forces down the swell of jealousy in his lungs, especially when he laughs brightly and pulls back to clasp her shoulders. Arthur sees Gwen’s face fall at a question Merlin had asked and he gulps, biting his lip when Merlin frowns and raises an incredulous eyebrow at her response. She points in Arthur’s direction, and The King’s eyes go wide as he rapidly stands, failing miserably at looking as though he weren’t staring in their direction. Guinevere rolls her eyes before giving Merlin one last hug and walking very deliberately in the opposite direction to Arthur.

Merlin marches towards him, slight annoyance mixing with a secret eagerness to check on Arthur speeding up his normal pace significantly. Before the servant can say anything, Arthur grabs his wrist, pulling him up the steps and through the castle without a word, tugging harshly every time Merlin opens his mouth to demand an explanation for himself or an apology for Gwen.

When they finally reach his chambers, Arthur quickly locks the door behind him, whirling on an angry Merlin with flushed cheeks and a desperate look in his eyes:

“I swear Merlin, I will never doubt you again, but Elyan almost died, Gwaine got an infection, Leon and I forgot about Ethel and Halbert, Lancelot and Mordred are essentially under house arrest, I missed two council meetings, lost my crown, and now Gwen’s not talking to me. You’re never allowed to leave me again.”

Merlin freezes in place, staring at Arthur with wide eyes and an open mouth for a few moments before he bursts into laugher. Arthur huffs, crossing his arms as his blush deepens, but waits patiently instead of demanding that Merlin stop. Honestly? He may have been laughing at Arthur, but it was still the most beautiful sound The King had heard in two weeks, and he’d definitely missed it. Which is... something to think about at a later date.

Merlin finally relents, his dimples showing prominently as he holds in another round of giggles at Arthur’s red face. The servant drops his pack to the floor, stepping forward and not giving Arthur time to move away before he pulls him into a tight hug, sighing contentedly at the warm contact:

“I missed you too, you prat. You’ll just have to come with me next time and we can leave Gwen and Gaius in charge.”

Arthur huffs out a gentle laugh, finally wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle tightly and burying his face in the slightly taller man’s hair:

“I did. Miss you, I mean. And I also mean it when I say you’re never going anywhere without me again, this has been a nightmare.”

Merlin snorts, tightening his grip on Arthur as if he were trying to squeeze all of the stress out of him:

“Co-dependency isn’t the healthiest thing in the world, you know.”

Arthur just huffs, refusing to let go as he petulantly responds:

“I don’t care. I’m The King, I can do what I want.”

Arthur can almost feel Merlin rolling his eyes, but the servant just laughs again and seems to nod in agreement:

“Hmm. That excuse is going to come back to haunt you one day. Heard you gave George a raise?”

The blonde tenses in embarrassment, now refusing to pull away so Merlin wouldn’t see his pink cheeks:

“Uh... yeah. He cleans too much and is shit at coming up with plausible excuses, but he did save my arse a few times.”

Arthur can feel Merlin’s laugh vibrate through his ribcage, and though the man was usually rather touch averse, he found he never wanted the feeling to stop. He found himself hoping that Merlin felt the same when The King chuckles at his response:

“Oh yeah? Does that mean I get a raise for being good at excuses and bad at cleaning?”

~

THE END!!! 

Literally wrote this in one day so... sorry if it’s bad😅

Had no clue how I was going to end it until I got there, my thought process essentially just went “Hugs? Yeah. Hugs hugs hugs hugs hugs.” :D

Same as always lads, you wanna write it out in full or remix it or whatever, go for it, just drop me a message and credit/tag me :)

[favoniuscodex]

homecoming. [kaeya x reader]

prompt: a hug one might consider to be “too long” w/ kaeya, as requested by anon pairing: kaeya x gn!reader warnings: shamelessly flirty kaeya !!! he will flirt with u !!! watch out !!! he will steal your heart !!! also... pining lol. utter fluff. songs i listened to: when he sees me from waitress word count: ~1.4k words

a/n: implied height difference between kaeya and reader. god i love kaeya. kaeya is the superior ragnvindr brother because he comes home no matter what. i love kaeya. this is now a kaeya simp blog. i love u kaeya alberich ragnvindr idfc what last name you have, i’ll make it my last name if u let me. i love u kaeya,

you and captain kaeya were merely colleagues.

you had absolutely no romantic interest in the cavalry captain whatsoever. absolutely none. if approached with such heresy, you merely gave a tightlipped grimace and a shake of your head that signaled no, absolutely not. you had a purely professional relationship with kaeya alberich, your fellow captain and knight of favonius. the two of you were jovial around each other, but to hear such rumors of the two of you being madly in love or whatever farfetched tale the fresh recruits had made up as they slacked off was nothing less than infuriating.

such trivial gossip was false. everyone had joked about how the cryo vision-wielder had used such abilities to traverse your icy personality and break through the walls that you were nearly infamous for maintaining for so long. initial annoyance at these rumors had given way to hurt, for you knew that the rumors were partially true. the two of you weren’t hopelessly in love with each other. only one of you was: you.

but quelling such romantic gossip for the sake of your pride had proved to be difficult when your supposed lover was far too willing to play along. when approached with questions about your relationship with him, kaeya would only shrug and give a knowing smirk. if you caught him on a good day, he would even pretend to mull over the question, before flashing his pearly whites and holding a single finger up to his lips in the universal sign of shhh.

sure, you and kaeya spent time together both on and off duty, but such companionship merely extended into the realm of friendship. nothing more, nothing less. the two of you trusted each other both on and off the battlefield, working together seamlessly in both combat and in drinking games. your compatibility was undeniable, so much so that even acting grand master jean had picked up on it, assigning the two of you to nearly identical missions, despite the two of you leading two different regiments.

which, of course, led to his absence as his regiment (his regiment alone, you bitterly noted) had set out to inspect an outcropping of hilichurl camps forming near stormterror’s lair. the mission ran into overtime and thoughts of the blue-haired cavalry captain plagued you to the point where even albedo, who lived by the motto of not my emotions, not my problem when it came to interpersonal relationships, had commented on how out of it you looked. you had left his laboratory in a hurry, forgetting the paperwork you had visited him for and had to do a walk of shame back into his lab. the alchemist had simply given you a knowing smirk, but upon meeting his gaze, you merely shifted yours away and left with your documents in silence.

kaeya had even sent you a completely platonic, one-hundred percent friendly letter upon the extension of his mission. in this letter, he detailed how he would miss your company and wished he had as competent of a knight as you at his side, knowing that your presence would have made the mission both go and feel so much faster than the snail’s pace it was currently moving along at. such notions are completely platonic, you tell yourself upon reading his familiar handwriting upon the paper, kaeya does not return your affections.

however, that doesn’t stop the fluttering in your heart when you realize the letter in your hands smells exactly like kaeya alberich’s aftershave, almost as if he had purposefull- archons, you interrupted yourself, dropping the letter in shock and losing track of any semblance of thoughts you had prior. did i just sniff the letter kaeya sent me? have i really fallen that low?

the days after you receive the letter, you sympathize utterly with the snail’s pace kaeya described. the slow ticking of time mocks you, as each second feels more like ten. as you look longingly outside the window of your office, you partially expect the windmills within the city to have come to a stop, as if time had frozen in kaeya’s absence. however, they continue to spin, oblivious to your woes or the longing that nearly consumes you whole as one thought echoes through your mind: you miss your partner in crime.

when news of the cavalry regiment’s arrival begins to spread throughout the knights of favonius headquarters, you are discussing your squadron’s duties with acting grand master jean. a knight interrupts your conversation to share the news with her, but jean’s eyes quickly meet yours as soon as the information is shared. she laughs lightly at your poorly disguised expression of excitement.

“you can go see him,” jean offers and your eyes widen at her words. before you can sputter out some poor excuse of how you aren’t absolutely smitten with the cavalry captain and how your soul definitely, certainly, absolutely doesn’t cry out for his, she’s waving you off with a flick of the hand. “you are dismissed. this conversation’s over. go see him, i know you want to.”

“thank you,” the words that exit your lips are nothing but sincere. as you drop the denial act for once, you feel one of many weights off your chest. the secret falls between you and jean, but based on her initial reaction, you’re already doing an absolutely awful job of hiding your feelings to begin with. you smile at her before excusing yourself and scurrying out of her office.

you walk at a brisk pace. any faster and you would draw suspicion. the rumors of you and kaeya being lovebirds would only worsen. any slower and it would seem as if you didn’t care of his return, being both an awful friend and a horrid potential lover. so, despite the way you long to break out into a sprint and run to the gates of mondstadt, you walk at a controlled pace that feels all-too-slow, just like the passage of time in his absence.

when your eyes finally spot kaeya’s figure amongst the rest of his direct subordinates, you feel a tightness in your chest and butterflies erupt in your stomach. and when your gaze finally meets your favorite shade of blue, the one that swirls and dances in his revealed iris, you can’t hold back the grin that breaks across your face. whatever conversation kaeya was having with his colleagues before ends as he stops midsentence. you watch, frozen in place, as he quickly excuses himself from the situation.

the cavalry captain’s gaze never breaks from yours as he chooses to walk over to you, walking far too fast to not raise suspicion. your feet feel like lead, far too heavy to move, as you watch him approach you. the distance closes between the two of you, yet kaeya does not halt where you expect him to finally stand still. before you can register what he’s doing, kaeya wraps his arms around you and exhales heavily.

instinctively, your arms wrap around kaeya as well and you only pray he can’t hear the blood that roars in your ears, nor feel the way your head spins from finally, finally having him back again. time is frozen once more, yet for the first time since kaeya’s departure, you wish for it to stay this way. despite his cryo vision, kaeya gives the warmest hugs and you want nothing more than to stay in this moment of intimacy forever.

as you begin to remember where you are, your eyes, which you hadn’t realized you had closed in utter contentment, flutter open and you glance around, spotting fellow knights who are staring at the two of you, whispering admirably amongst themselves. worry sets in for kaeya’s reputation. sure, you were in love with him, but he certainly wasn’t in love with you and you wished not to sully him with bothersome rumors and office gossip to deal with. so, with a heavy heart, you decide to shatter your little fantasy, leaning up to whisper in kaeya’s ear.

“kaeya,” you begin and his grip tightens around you almost imperceptibly as you utter his name. you wonder if you imagined it. “the other knights are going to gossip abought this.”

“oh?” kaeya challenges, squeezing you just a bit tighter and pulling your bodies even closer together. you feel flustered from his actions and, in such close proximity, you can smell his cologne, your face nearly buried in his chest. as you angle your head so your ear lies flat against his torso, you can hear his heart beating rapidly as kaeya murmurs his next three words.

“let them talk.”

[dr3amofagame]

more of the mutually assured destruction duo, post-prison this time! this one was really fun, thinking about what this dynamic might be like in the future gives me SO much brainrot, im so excited. this one’s also a little dark, so make sure to read the warnings + tags !! :D 

tw: implied prison abuse, starvation, toxic relationship, touch starvation, manipulation, panic attack, trauma, blood, injury

Dream hasn't been the same since he escaped prison.

And it's ironic, because Wilbur hasn't even been around, has been in hell for fuck's sake playing Competitive Solitaire for nine-odd years, but even he could've seen the self-destruction hanging like a cloud around the other's head from a million miles (and several months? years?) away. Perhaps, he thinks wryly, you can only see the signs when you've lived them, or maybe red flags don't raise alarm when you’ve painted the entire figure in blood, but it doesn't really matter, in the end, because the final result is the same.

Still, it's just a little funny when he's stopped in the middle of his journey through the Nether, not a piece of armor on him per usual and an unused netherite sword slung over his hip.

"Hello, Sapnap." The kid is standing in front of him, eyes gleaming in badly-hidden anger and desperation, smoke rising from the mottled red-black skin on his hands. "Fancy seeing you around."

"You-" Sapnap sputters, unable to speak as his face flushes red in frustration, and Wilbur smiles at him condescendingly. The expression on the other's face is one he's seen before - one Tommy had been particularly inclined to give him in the past, when his emotions raged so heavily that there was nothing for the pressure to do but build, too thick and heavy to force themselves out of his throat. "You're monsters," Sapnap manages, finally, and Wilbur quirks an eyebrow.

At least we're self-aware, he thinks, the all-too-familiar twinge of irritation at Tommy's - and apparently, Sapnap's particular brand of reckless naivety pulsing at the base of his skull. He lets none of these thoughts show on his face as he cocks his head to the side, smiles wider - and Sapnap, just like Tommy, takes the bait.

'Why are you smiling?" He looks achingly young - they all do, really, their expressions and reactions dripping with a sort of innocence and sincerity that dissolved from Wilbur's own face somewhere around the fifteen-hundreth game of poker, and it really does feel ironic, how quickly the outside world can fall apart compared to the unending constancy of the void - but he digresses.

He didn't know Sapnap well before his whole death thing, and as much as he wants to use his partner to get information on the other members of the server, he doesn't really think Dream is really even lucid enough for that - the man clearly hasn't been thinking clearly, not for a long time. It doesn't matter, though, because you learn to read people when your life becomes nothing but running the same broken-edged memories over and over again in your mind and smiling jaggedly over the same few card games - Wilbur had always been a people watcher, and Sapnap's feelings are stamped on every corner of his face.

"Monster, huh," he says, saying the word slowly, rolling it over his tongue like he's tasting it for the first time, watching from the corner of his eye as Sapnap squirms, "Interesting word you've got here. You use it often?"

Sapnap bristles, smoke curling from his nostrils - "It's what you are, dickhead."

Rolling his eyes internally, Wilbur keeps up the act, humming as he fiddles idly with his cufflink. "I mean, if you really believe that," he rocks forward on his right foot, stifling a smile at the way the younger draws back, "But really, it's all a matter of perspective." He twists himself around, pivoting around his heel, beginning to walk in an arc around Sapnap's left side, watching as he spins around, shoulders drawn up to his ears. "What do you think?"

"I think that you're full of shit," he says, voice flat, and Wilbur laughs. It's genuine, really, because well - Sapnap's different. He's fun; the entire server is, after so long in the void. You can only spend so much time with the same two people before they drive you a little up the metaphorical wall, but Sapnap's reactions are fresh and new and different, still saturated with vitality that hasn’t been leached out by the same deck of cards in the same scarred hands shuffled and reshuffled for eternity. He's interesting, and new, and most of all, predictable.

"Say, Sapnap," he continues, blowing over the other's anger, knowing that it'll only make the frustration build more. He lets his hair flop lazily over one eye, lets his smile grow wider, lips pressed together in amusement, turns his face so that it's lit eerily by the lava lake beneath them. "If we're monsters for, I don't know, setting off a few stacks of TNT," he waves his hand flippantly, watching the muscle of the other's jaw jump in poorly-hidden rage, "What does that make you for what you did to Dream?"

Sapnap's eyes go wide, and Wilbur knows he's struck the jackpot. He lets his lips part to reveal bared teeth, jagged and glinting in the light. "I'm sorry, did that hit a nerve?"

The kid's mouth opens- closes- emotions warring on his face, fists curling and uncurling at his sides, lip trembling. "We- we had to-" his hands come to his face, palms digging into his eyes, and while he's not looking, Wilbur draws his expression back a bit, becoming softer, more welcoming. When Sapnap looks back up, his eyes are shining, hands shaking still; he steps forward, then rocks back on his back foot like he doesn't know where to go. "What do you mean?" he throws the words like they're meant to be a threat, but by the end his voice has devolved into something high-pitched and keening, overflowing with desperate grief that Wilbur latches onto like a starving man (ha) with his last meal.

"I'm sorry, it does seem rather insensitive for me to assume," he resumes pacing around the other, voice lilting, soft, "I just mean, it seemed pretty obvious, don't you think? I don't think I've ever seen someone so skinny, really, but I guess that is what happens when you get starved,"

"Shut up-"

"Not to mention the whole panicking thing, I mean, he's like Tommy sometimes with all of the fucking shaky breathing and mumbling around like creepers, not that I'd know what all of that's about," he watches Sapnap through half-hooded eyes, darkly amused, "and pickaxes, oddly enough, but oh well. Who am I to judge?"

"Shut up-"

"And all of the scars - I thought they were from you, honestly, he told me about the whole 'taking his last life' thing, but then he jumped into lava one day - I guess there wasn't much to do in that cell, huh? He didn't even scream, it's really pretty fucking incredible - I thought I'd actually have to break him down a bit, but really, you've made my life so much easier-"

"SHUT UP-"

Wilbur watches with a too-wide grin as Sapnap finally, finally charges, a netherite sword appearing in his hand as he races blindly ahead, tears shining on his cheeks, his words more pain than thought as he brings the blade down-

A blur of purple, the sound of crumbling netherrack and metal meeting metal, flesh hitting flesh - Wilbur moves smoothly out of the way as Sapnap crashes to the ground, an armored figure bearing down an axe against the shield he's raised between them.

Dream, hair tangled and long, wearing armor that is far too heavy for his skinny frame, every inch of him shaking in panic, should hardly be a threat - but this is Sapnap, weakened by Wilbur's sharp words and crippled by the shock of seeing his former best friend's face again, eyes still unfocused from the rage and tears that had clouded over them moments before, so he can do little but raise his shield as the netherite slams into it, again and again. Not a word falls from Dream's lips, but he brings down the weapon at a ruthless pace - ever since he's been free, his attack style has changed greatly from the defensive style he used to favor, even to Wilbur's untrained eye - there's no skill, no art to the way he attacks anymore, just the fearful ferocity of a dog trapped in a cage for far, far too long.

He finally kicks Sapnap down the netherrack cliff that they're on, the other man left to nurse his wounds below them - Wilbur doesn't bother sparing him another thought; Dream's far too weak to cause any permanent damage. Instead, he approaches his partner, weapon, with a smile, watching, satisfied, when he whirls around with a manic expression.

"I'm alright, see?" he croons as Dream's shoulders move up and down with his heaving breaths, eyes fever-bright, teeth bared. He brings a hand down on the other's shoulder and watches as he flinches at the movement, breath hitching, every muscle freezing, knuckles pale on the handle of his axe, before moving again, stumbling forwards, hands reaching for Wilbur's head and stopping halfway. Wilbur tips his head forward, lets the shorter brush his face with trembling fingers, checking his unmarred skin for blood through the purpling bruises already forming on his cheek, and thinks how powerful he is to have a god at his beck and call, a perfect attack dog brought to heel, death itself obediently at his side.

Dream hasn't been the same since he escaped prison, and as Wilbur runs his hand up and down his back, feeling the way his spine arches at the touch, at the fluttering pulse under the skin-and-bone wrist under his fingers, he thinks how fortunate he is to be the first to notice.

[ronnieiswriting]

BY DORNE PART 3

F!reader x Oberyn Martell No descriptive terms for reader, no use of y/n, EXPLICIT, ongoing

Part 1 Part 2

Important: set WELL before the events in Game of Thrones/ Book one of ASOIAF- King Aerys Targaryen is on the throne, Elia Martell is alive, Ellaria Sand is not in the picture (yet?) and Oberyn doesn’t have any daughters yet. As for the universe this is set in, Each major house (Starks, Tyrells, Arryns, Martells etc) are the families that run each region of Westeros but with a 70s backdrop instead of a high fantasy one.

The reader is Oberyn’s favourite arm piece- one he brings to lots of events. He’s known as the hungriest of all the Martells and he likes to prove that to anyone who might question that, therefore, its no secret that Oberyn has had a number of partners and sometimes multiple at once, men and women. Insatiable appetite aside, Oberyn hasn’t enjoyed spoiling any girl as much as he does you, and he’s set on keeping you around for as long as you can keep up with him.

TAGS!!: female masturbation (descriptions, references, partner watches), subtle power play, 70s circle beds, crotchless romper, lots of praise, implied oral f receiving, other sex acts implied/ referenced, feelings, a little bit of angst at the end. ENJOY (if I missed any tags pls let me know!!)

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?”

If you had expected any other words to be the first from your lover’s mouth the second he found you- after almost two months apart- you would've been disappointed. The first thing he had done, however, was pull you to him eagerly and greet your starved lips with a searing kiss. When you had separated only for the necessity of air, Oberyn had started remapping your body with his hands as if he had forgotten it in his absence.

You hummed against him, arms circling around his neck where his dark curls brushed against your skin. It had gotten longer since he had been away- you wondered if he planned to get it cut soon. “I missed you.” you told him, drawing in a breath of his cologne.

Oberyn groaned. “Honey, did you touch yourself?” His hands climbed up further, thumbs brushing against the sides of your breasts.

You nodded. “Of course I did. I missed every bit of you with every part of me.”

His brow creased in response. The world forgotten, Oberyn led you in the direction of his room. “How many times.”

You weren’t oblivious to the power you had over the man currently attacking your neck with desperate lips, and you couldn’t deny its effect on you- his effect on you- a welcome kind of intoxication. You gave him an answer, “I lost count.”

He nodded against you, lips dragging and stubble catching across your skin when he looked away to fumble with door handles. After he cursed them for sticking, he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll forget all about your fingers when I’m done with you.”

When he finally got the double doors open it was you that pulled him inside, slamming one shut again by shoving his back against it and the other with a kick.

He looked at you differently then- still like an animal of course- for you had never known the hunger running deep in his pitch black eyes to ebb its flow. But this look came when you would reach out and touch the power you had. And nothing needed to be said, no words to acknowledge the truth- the way Oberyn looked at you let you know exactly how he felt about you seizing power.

The hardening length of him pressing against the inside of your thigh also got the message across without spoken language.

You leaned into the sensation and ran a hand up his chest, along the thick chain of his heirloom necklace. Dropping your voice only slightly, you said “Why don’t I show you?”

Oberyn was leaning forward so far on the vanity stool that you were almost sure he’d fall off it and get a mouthful of the brightly coloured shag rug that covered one side of the room. He watched intently as you draped yourself over his circle bed, pulling back the sheer curtain on your way in a manner you hoped was seductive.

Since you knew Oberyn was coming back that day, you’d made a point to wear one of his favourite pieces- a slinky, lace romper with only a few skimpy panels of silk. Though, what he liked about it most (other than the way it barely brushed the tops of your thighs- and the fact that it was sinfully crotchless) was the colour; not the typical warm orange or bright yellow that the Martell’s so famously covered everything in. You were like a beacon in the room as soon as you took off the earth-toned dress you were wearing, capturing the man before you as he drank in the sight of the romper- rich, royal purple.

He had muttered something that sounded remarkably like an old Dornish verse at the garment, swallowed, and restrained himself to the seat where he adjusted himself shamelessly.

Once you had gotten situated against the pile of velvet cushions set up against the arched bedhead, you stretched for effect, reaching high so he’d get a good view of the way your pert nipples peaked against the fabric. Seeking the rush from his response, you looked at him through your lashes and let out the faintest of moans.

His full lips tugged up at that, edging impossibly closer to the foot of the bed. You found yourself wondering how he would look kneeling for you… another time, you thought.

When he smiled fully, you were unable to resist mirroring it. “Go on, baby.” he said, voice strained with admiration. “Show me how you missed me.”

You obliged him, edging a hand down between your legs that you parted wide for your man to see. When you reached your uncovered sex, your eyes locked onto Oberyn’s as you spread yourself open with your fingers and felt the wetness that had began to gather there. It started slowly, your digits easing the anticipation into a low pressure that made your entire body relax further into the plushness of the bed.

He praised the sight, “That’s it, honey.” and you agreed with a lazy hum.

For a few minutes, you were content with the languid pace at which you teased yourself, running fingers up and down your slit and coating your lips with your arousal. Sufficient pressure built, you tilted your hips towards him and pulled one fingertip over your clit. The pleasure was instantaneous but you resisted throwing your head back in favour of maintaining eye contact with the man at the end of the bed. You noticed that he had scooted the chair forward and contorted himself to be eye-level with your cunt, elbows on his knees, one thumb tracing his bottom lip as he drank you in. He began to compliment you again, “Sweet honey, you look so-” but you cut him off when you moaned his name- circling the bud again to the sound of his voice catching. Before you could hold back the flutter of your eyes at the sensation, you saw the devilish smirk that took to Oberyn’s lips. He repeated the sentiment slower this time and complete, matching each word to the tempo of your fingers, “Sweet, sweet honey. You look so fucking gorgeous.”

It was then that you were suddenly, painfully aware that the man who was so good at pleasing you was so close to you and yet wasn’t touching you- not his hands nor his lips or his cock. His tender words were nowhere near your ear and they weren’t kissed into your skin- it was as if he had become the presence you imagined when he was away. And while the both of you were so clearly enjoying the dynamic, it was an intense thing to act out what you had done to imitate his affections in front of him. There was a rush to it- something exciting about showing him how you could superficially replace him- and the powerful feeling you got out of it easily outweighed the frustration of not having him between your legs right then.

Oberyn seemed to enjoy it as much as you did. You coaxed yourself closer to release with one digit slipping just inside every few swipes. You could hear him through it, his voice harmonising with each breathy moan from you and it sounded like he was repeating phrases- thanking the gods for what he was witnessing, cursing himself for not coming back sooner, praising you, encouraging you- and you could tell he was dying to touch himself.

Though you had intended to watch him the whole time, your eyes kept rolling with the effort to chase a climax. Looking at him again, you could’ve pounced on him- he had shifted upright and was working idly at the buttons on his shirt, never taking his eyes off you. He noticed the way your attention drew to the tent in his pants because you showed your appreciation by wetting your lips and arching your back, fingers never stopping.

You moaned his name again and he chuckled. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m not going to touch myself. To think I’d come in my hand when your pussy is right in front of me- now that would be an insult.”

You replied without thinking, “You don’t have to come- you--” you paused to squirm, finding a better angle, “You could just stroke yourself a bit?” You were offering him the chance to even the dominance, maybe even take all of it. You’d let him.

It was a vain effort and a suggestion he refused entirely. “If I’m going to make you forget about your fingers- I need to see what they can do, right? I need to know what I’m up against.” He returned to his previous position, chain swinging heavily into his bare chest, hands locked together on his knees and gaze set on your dripping centre. “Don’t let up, sweetness, okay.”

His words encouraged you to go faster still and you moaned louder. When you started to thrust two fingers inside yourself everything felt enhanced. Your feet slid against the sheet as you struggled to ground yourself through the rapidly increasing intensity and your gasping breath turned into a string of words, “Gods, Oberyn- I missed you so much.” and “Did this every night- in every room.” A feat you exaggerated a little- Oberyn’s mansion was a relatively small building next to the Martell manor but it couldn’t be called humble. Your whole body started to burn when you told him how you missed his cock.

He didn’t hesitate to rouse you further, telling you how much he missed you- namely, “Your sweet cunt…” You lost sight of him when your head finally fell completely back into the mass of pillows but his voice rang equally insistent and lustful. “You’re my best girl, honey.” he said as you continued to tightly swirl your clit. “My sweet lover- that’s it, baby- so good for me.”

Tantalizingly close now, you reached under the romper to flick your nipples, squeezing because you desperately craved the same level of stimulation he’d so often saturate you with. Chasing that feeling further, you tried to hit your clit with the thumb of the same hand you fucked yourself on but you couldn’t.

For a second you almost gave up and asked him to help you come- add a finger- anything. But he got you there before you could even get out a word or a pleading moan. Oberyn’s praises came again and he practically begged you to come for him. “Come for me so I can make you come again and again. Let me prove that I missed you... Come so I can fuck you so good you forget the entire world--”

Your climax came out with a choked sob and in a white hot flash that drained all the feelings in your body. All of you went limp but your chest heaved in the air. The bliss was incredible and well-earned but there was so much more to be had.

With the little energy you could muster, you beckoned to him with the same fingers you pulled from yourself. They were still glossy with your slick but barely had the chance to cool in the air as Oberyn’s lips quickly latched around your fingers. His tongue swirled to devour your spend and hungry hands roamed over your tired thighs that trembled in the aftershock.

Kissing your knuckles once he had licked you clean, he moved the same hand to the crown of his head and encouraged you to grab hold. He gave your other hand the same treatment before he moved his lips over your thighs, massaging the tension from them with the pads of his fingers. “My turn.” he mumbled into your skin.

By the time Oberyn had proved himself better than your fingers, the sky was beginning to turn purple with dawn. When he had found you that day it had been just after 10pm.

Somehow, though, whether due to miraculous pacing or because neither of you had so recently exerted yourselves, you and Oberyn were still wide awake. He emerged from between your thighs again- this time without a heavy pant or a shiny chin- with a washcloth in his hand. Coming up to sit back fully on his knees, he unashamedly looked you over.

The purple romper had been folded down around your waist and you were sure one of the straps were broken from the force it had been yanked down with. He smirked proudly at the number of hickies he had left all over your skin as many of them would be seen regardless of what you wore. “You look good.” he said.

Oberyn was quite a sight himself. When he removed himself from the bed to return the cloth to his ensuite, you admired the way his skin gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat. His hair stuck out in every direction and before he disappeared behind the doorway, he rolled his shoulders and neck with a happy groan. You called out to him, “You make me look good.” Then, put off by the feeling of the lace against you, you kicked off the romper fully and stretched back out on the bed.

He replied, “I don’t agree with a single word of that, baby.”

When he came back into the room, you couldn’t help but admire the almost comical way in which he had shrugged on his favorite robe but not bothered with affording himself any more modesty in it than he had completely naked. You took the opportunity to ogle him openly, proud of the marks you had left on him and he wasted little time in crossing the room again to rejoin you on the bed. When he had gotten comfortable situated between your legs, this time on his back, with his head resting on your stomach and arms slung over your thighs, Oberyn looked up at you fondly. “I do think I proved myself though.”

“To who?”

That smug smile returned, “Well, to you.” Then he looked to think on it for a moment, pondering as his fingers drew half-thought images across the skin of your thigh. “Proved that I’m still good enough for you.”

You didn’t even bother to hold back from rolling your eyes. “You know that’s ridiculous, Oberyn.”

Oberyn nodded, warm eyes drooping before closing softly. “Mmhmm” he hummed.

It settled like that for a while. You stroked his hair, drawing more relaxed hums from him while a question started bubbling up in your mind.

You pushed it aside for a different one, “Why don’t we do something tomorrow?”

“Can’t, I’m afraid.” He sighed, “Doran wants me to come in first thing to review some clause in the trade documents with Lys- something about a weird shipment- it's all very complicated really. I’m sure he’ll find a way to keep me there longer too and spring more papers on me or something.” When he finished the silence started to sting. “I’m sorry, honey. You know I’d love to-”

You refused to let him get to the “but” in that sentence, “It’s okay--really! I mean we just did a lot… Maybe later in the week?”

Oberyn kissed your hand. He was visibly relieved of the tension diffusing between you.“You got it, honey.”

Oberyn left about an hour later, giving you a tender kiss on the forehead and the promise of “soon”. The warm spot beside you and the marks on you were the only tangible signs that Oberyn had even been there at all and you lamented the fact that they too would be quick to flee as the rest of him had.

You hated to pout but it was easy when your lover had barely spent a day with you before being snatched away again by something more important. Important, demanding or serious -any similar word- was more so because you were relatively less. You- unlike business or politics or events- could wait on his bed all day and night for his return.

Ultimatums weren’t known to be answered romantically every time. And you swore to yourself that you’d never force him to choose. Nevertheless, the seed of doubt had been planted and the casualness of your relationship with Oberyn nurtured it against your better judgement.

You stewed over these thoughts long into the morning, staring up at the canopy butt-naked.

He had told you something before he left for King’s Landing two months ago that you remembered suddenly. “... you are the reason I am going to rush back to Dorne.”, the unspoken idea there being that he would value your company above the general comfort of familiarity. You had almost told him then how you felt about him, but a nagging feeling had told you to hold it in and now you had to suffer under the weight of more doubts and insecurities.

Maybe if you had, he would have been able to clear up half of the doubts you were festering over- maybe he would have said he loved you too. It was a selfish thought but irresistible all the same and you were too quickly lulled into indulging in it.

[charrators]

takeaways from the new h&h episode:

ok, so the series isn’t cancelled, which is cool, but don’t FUCKING scare me like that /lh

battington said in the community tab that he did lose a few characters

we still have ava, banzo, martin, and sofia (in the rebirth ending, she makes a cameo as a drawing on a wall, and i don’t think he’d want to risk a cameo if she was one of the characters sniped by copyright strike)

this leaves ice cream man, henry, and gloria as greywhinder family members we could’ve lost here

i think ice cream man might be Dead, bc battington outright admitted that he’s heavily based on a steven’s universe character

while i’m not sure what copyrights gloria could have infringed, i also have a Bad feeling abt that, since when banzo takes ava to the afterlife in the free ending, he says he’s gonna take her to see her mom, implying she’s moved on; as far as we know, gloria hasn’t (though maybe Forcibly Removing Her From The Mortal Realm could’ve been what happened in “please come back to me” when martin starts shattering her screen like glass)

there are animatronic/puppet/doll versions of the toymaker and several toymaker lookalikes

there’s a new character named franklin norway who’s REALLY shady but claims that he’s installing clown-themed horror games in his restaurant to warn kids abt martin

also. considering that h&h is loosely based on fnaf, i don’t think this whole children’s arcade slash restaurant thing is gonna be some throwaway line

i’m assuming that fuzzy buddy is to stitchbuddy what magical sofia is to sofia the singing marionette — aka, a 2.0 version (new season new me)

i don’t think the original stitchbuddy design got copyrighted, bc the version of banzo we see in the scene w ava is clearly still a stitchbuddy

fuzzy buddy sounds a LOT like tattletail

apparently banzo can straight up talk now?? not even the toy, the actual ghost dog???

i have no idea which ending is canon, though i’m beginning to suspect it’s the rebirth ending since a) it seems a little early to start freeing the major characters and b) the ava-banzo fusion is WAY too interesting and complex of a design to be used in one non-canon 4 minute video

both endings are. hm. well! *autotuned baby crying*

[therenlover]

Brutal (A Demon!Daniel Bruhl x Starlet!Reader Ficlet)

(So, this is the first little ficlet in my Sour series, which can be found HERE! I hope you enjoy it! Also, enjoy blurry Checo, because he’s who @creme-bruhlee and I imagine as demon!Daniel)

“And I'm so tired that I might / Quit my job, start a new life / And they'd all be so disappointed / 'Cause who am I if not exploited?”

Synopsis: A crime of passion accidentally summons a handsome demon who offers to make your deepest desires come true... for a price, of course. 

Rating; M (16+)

Warnings: Vague Allusions to Past Dubcon/Noncon, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Explicit Murder, Making A Deal With A Demon, Maybe A Tiny Bit Of Monsterfucking???? If You Squint??? Not Really Though

Word Count: 1500~

-------

“What is it that you desire?”

The man- no, creature- before you was shrouded in the darkest corner of your dressing room, perched languidly upon the chaise lounge that had been oh so kindly included in the rider of your contract by whatever filthy fucker decided they wanted to have you this time. He didn’t matter now, though. No, not now that his brains were splattered against the carpet. The only thing that mattered anymore was the creature in the corner. 

Even in the darkness, you could see its razor-sharp teeth glinting in the low light. 

Trembling with unused adrenaline, you smiled back at it, hands still covered in blood. “I’m not answering that until you answer a few questions of my own,” 

Surprisingly, the thing seemed to lean further back into its plush seat as it nodded, long pointed tail undulating slowly, like a python preparing to strike. “Very well. It makes no difference to me how long you draw out our little deal,” slowly, the thing chuckled, “Besides, for you, pretty one, I’d wait all the time in the world,” 

You groaned at his exaggerated wink. 

Still, it was too late to turn back now. With the blood on your hands for the death of the man at your feet, both physically and metaphorically, there was nowhere to go but forward. Maybe making a deal with the devil wasn’t your original plan, but it sure as hell was better than prison. With a sigh, you sat down heavily into your high-backed makeup chair. 

“So I’m assuming you’re a demon?”

The creature in the corner made some sort of deep, proud noise in its chest as its two, shadowy hands came up to stroke its curved horns, much like a goat’s, with a certain puff-chested reverence. Even while beholding it in that darkness, its features shrouded in black, there was an allure to the strange monster, a strange, sick draw. You were helpless to whatever had appeared before you and all its powers. Somehow, though, you had seemed to intrigue it despite your comparative weakness. 

“I go by many names, but demon is one of them,” it purred, red eyes glinting with something more than bloodlust, “I prefer others,”

“What should I call you then?”

“Whatever you please,”

You scoffed. “You said you had many names, why can’t you tell me even one?”

It huffed a long sigh, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve said that you saw smoke erupt from where its nostrils should be. 

That being said, it didn’t seem like the thing was frustrated. If anything, the creature seemed amused. From its words, you could only assume it had been hundreds of years since it had last entertained itself on the human realm. You could only hope your rage was entertaining enough to keep any of its less desirable emotions at bay. 

“Names have power, Schatz. I can’t just go around telling everybody who I am,” it’s accent felt thicker as it leaned back, “but I suppose, if you and I were to make a deal, that I could allow you to name me something. Or I could choose one for you,”

“What if I didn’t make deal with you?” you challenged the creature with a smirk. 

It hummed low in its chest as it pondered your question. “Now that would be no fun,” 

“For me or for you?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Time was getting short now, with the clock on the wall ticking down the minutes until someone would arrive at your dressing room door to lead you out towards the set where the rest of the cast and crew were waiting. If they found you with the body it was over. Things with the demon needed to be resolved, and they needed to be resolved fast. 

Thankfully, it didn’t toy with you any more than you expected it to. 

“For both of us,” it replied, tail flicking almost excitedly, “I can’t touch you if we don’t make a deal, for better or for worse, and even then your soul wouldn’t be mine to toy with until the deal was complete. That being said, you’re in a pretty sticky situation. I think you need me just about as much as I need you, so I’ll ask again; What do you desire?”

You swallowed thickly. 

On one hand, you couldn’t imagine things would end up very pleasantly for you once the dark shadow who had staked its claim on that awful chaise lounge finally did have a chance to get its clawed hands on your soul. On the other hand, though, you had nothing left to lose. Fame, especially so young, always came at a price. You would wager to guess that even if your soul hadn’t been claimed by a demon, that it had already been stolen away by the producers and directors that pulled the strings of your life like you were some obedient little puppet dancing for an audience who wanted to devour you whole. 

In the end, an eternity in Hell with whatever was grinning at you like the Cheshire cat from the shadows might even be preferable to the horrors you’d already seen. 

Slowly, you answered its question. 

“I want to make every single person who ever took advantage of me suffer the same pain they put me through,” 

The creature’s face split into a toothy smile. 

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” 

Moving like smoke on water, it stood from its place on the chaise lounge, morphing in shape and size as it approached and held out it’s newly human-shaped hand to you. In his new form, at least, you assumed it was a he, the creature was handsome, all dark eyes and slick hair. He looked young, and somehow, even with his new, thin lips and human teeth, he retained his signature smile. You took his hand and shook it without hesitation.

Even with your heart beating almost out of your chest, you had to admit that, with a demon at your side, you felt more empowered than you ever had before. 

He noticed. 

“I am known to my kin as Asmodeus,” he cooed, long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he drew near to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to mind, “You, though, my sweetest pet, may call me Daniel,” 

Daniel. 

Somehow, even after you had seen the faintest traces of his beastly form, you had to admit that the name suited him. Maybe not as well as Asmodeus, but it worked well enough. You looked up at him through lidded eyes. “I’m-”

Before you could answer, he pressed a finger to your rouged lips. 

“I know everything about you sweetling, no need for introductions. There is one last thing we need to do to seal the deal, though,” 

A pit formed in your stomach as you gulped, caught in Daniel’s entrancing gaze. You had to assume there was some sort of magic to it, a spell that kept you trapped for all long as he could stare down into your eyes. Still, it would do you no good to fight it. Besides, the pangs that were making their way through your whole being weren’t fear. 

Oh no, they were something much worse. 

“What do we need to do?” You asked, wetting your lips with your tongue. 

Daniel replied with a sly smile and a soft chuckle. “I need you to kiss me, of course,” 

Who were you to disagree with the expert?

With all the strength and bravery you could muster, you surged up and met Daniel’s lips with your own, melting into the kiss as he quickly took over, skilled tongue darting into your mouth to claim it as his own. He bit hard on your lip, hard enough to draw blood, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind, not when your hands were busy exploring up under his shirt and finding purchase on the firm muscles that waited below. 

To be fair, he wasn’t exactly keeping his hands to himself either.

Sooner than you would have liked, though, Daniel was pulling his lips away from yours. It was just a fraction of an inch, your swollen mouths still connected by a string of saliva tinted a dark red with your blood, but you were already keening from the loss of him the second you caught your breath. The sound pleased him. 

“What are we to do first, sweetling?” he purred, letting his nails run gently against the soft skin of your waist, “I’m at your command,” His breath was hot against your fact, and he smelled like gun smoke. 

It drove you wild. 

You snuck a look at the clock before turning back to him, eyes aflame. “In about ten minutes we’ll need to have the mess in here cleaned up with any evidence gone, but before we do that, I want you- no, I need you to fuck me. Can you make that happen?”

Daniel beamed. 

“Oh, sweet girl, anything is possible with me at your side,” As he whipped you around to push you against the chaise lounge, licking his lips, he couldn’t help but add, “I believe this is the beginning of a very beneficial partnership,” 

And against all odds, as you hooked a leg up around his waist and pulled him in for another searing kiss, you had to agree.

--------

a/n: WOW WOW WOW THAT WAS GARBAGE BUT I LOVED IT. I finished season 5 of Lucifer yesterday, so I was in the mood for some demonic shit. I hope it was at least semi-enjoyable despite being straight up shitty writing lol. 

Taglist: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace , @multiyfandomgirl40 ,  @lovelymischief , @be-cautious-around-bri 

[tooweirdforyou]

hello ! I just discovered your blog and i mightve binged all your writing in one sitting 👉👈 I just absolutely love all your works ! 💕 anyway i saw the writing prompts you posted and would it be alright to make a request? if u could, pls do #8 + luffy and his s/o~ need more luffy fics in my life lol thank you sm ! 💖

Prompt #8 With Luffy

A/N : another requester! thank you so much for liking my writings 🥺, and yes, Luffy deserves so much love. I’d give him meat the size of Earth if I could. 😩💖

Prompt #8 : “please, just do it with me, just once!”

Summary : Luffy with his significant other, pleading to do a little something for their amusement.

note : I actually didn’t have a really good / cute idea for this, this was harder than I thought, because it’s Luffy lol. Hopefully you’ll still enjoy this. :) + this idea is KIND OF based off a little drawing comic I read here on tumblr by a creator. If anyone knows the user since I forgot ;-;, so I can credit them, let me know!!

Warning : there’s very slight implied 14+ but it’s literally nothing. lol

-

“No.”

Your flat out refusal made Luffy frown and pout at you. “Whyyy?” He dragged out the end, whining at how quickly you rejected him.

“Luffy, I already said no, stop whining.”

“Why nottt? It’ll be funnn! I used to do it with Ace and Sabo all the time when we were kids!” Luffy furrows his brows at you as he sat up and crossed his arms, tilting his head.

“That’s different! I can’t just do it with you!” Your cheeks flushed as you stared at him incredulously. “Don’t you have any common sense?!”

“You’re thinking too much. You sometimes bathe with Robin and Nami, right? It’s the same thing!”

You choke on your spit at his argument and scoff in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.” You huff, turning away and going to finish what you were doing.

“You’re a guy, I’m a girl, you do understand the problem here, right?” You exhale, rubbing your temples at your captain and significant other.

Sure, you two were dating, but you haven’t even gotten to that kind of level yet. You were pretty far from it.

“What are you afraid of? It’s not going to kill you to just take a bath with me together! I can scrub your hair and you can scrub mine! It’ll be funnnn!”

Luffy continued to whine and complain to you, following after you into the kitchen, your annoyance level slowly rising.

Luffy, noticing your silence, pouts once more before bowing 90° and pressed his hands together in a prayer motion.

“Please, do it with me! Just once!”

You’d glare daggers at him, your cheeks still warm before you exhale heavily after him.

“..fine. I’m wearing a swimsuit though, and YOU BETTER TOO!” You shout at him, Luffy looking up with wide eyes, excitement running through them.

He’d grin widely before nodding eagerly. “Sure! Let’s go!” He stretches his arm to grab your hand and began dragging you out.

“Wait, right now?!”

“Of course!”

-

“Luffy, stop moving, you’re shifting all the bubbles in the water and you’re going to make it— LUFFY!”

The rubber male would only laugh heartily at you as he pulls back his arms and sits still for you, so you can finish scrubbing his hair.

“Shishishi~ sorry [Name]. Look at all the bubbles though!” He says, pointing at the moving bubbles in the water.

You’d only sigh and soften your expression slightly, nodding at him. “Yeah.”

As much as you didn’t like the idea of bathing with Luffy, being significant others or not, you actually didn’t mind it that bad.

Admittedly, you were enjoying yourself.

Luffy, fortunately listened to you, and wore swim trunks before he came in. You were in your bathing suit, both sitting in the warm bath together now.

Making sure it was fully scrubbed up with soap, you pull your hands away from Luffy’s head of hair and smile slightly. “I’m done, Luffy.”

Luffy pulls away and smiles at you, nodding. “Let me do you now!” About to protest, Luffy already inserted some shampoo onto his hand and waited patiently for you, making you sigh once more in defeat before turning around so your backed faced him.

“Thanks for joining me in my bath, [Name]!” Luffy grins, started to soap up your hair and scrub it. It was a bit of a sloppy mess, but he did his best.

“Sure, Luffy. I’m actually enjoying myself... maybe we can do this again.” You say softly, smiling a bit to yourself as you close your eyes.

Luffy’s smile softens itself as he continued to wash your hair, his mind reminiscing in memories of Ace and Sabo a bit.

“I hope we do this more often... Ace, Sabo and I used to do it all the time.” Luffy mumbles quietly to himself, his smile becoming sadder as he thought about his brothers.

Hearing the sadness in his voice, you slowly pull away and turn, confusing Luffy. “E-Eh, I’m not done, [Name].”

You don’t say anything, just turning to face him before smiling brightly and reach up to his still shampooed and soapy hair, messing with it and bringing the bubbles up.

Luffy would be confused before finally seeing what you did to his hair, it being a completely different style thanks to the soap used as gel.

He’d laugh aloud immediately, the sight being hilarious to himself as he’s also equally amazed. “Woah, look [Name]!” He’d change it up and give himself devil horns, laughing more at it.

You’ll smile at his laughter, glad he was already feeling better and even laugh a bit yourself as Luffy goes to mess with your hair as well.

Soon, it’ll turn into a contest of who could give the other the wackiest hairstyle with soap, which results in no winner, due to Luffy becoming exhausted in the water.

“Come on, let’s get you dried up.”

After washing off all the soap on your bodies, you’d step out and wrap a towel around your shoulders, before helping Luffy out and let him dry himself.

You’ll turn to him and smile warmly before heading off to get changed in your room.

“This was actually kind of fun, Luffy. Let’s do it again next time.”

-

A/N : Hope you liked it!! No lie, I really couldn’t think of anything else—

Sorry this took so long too, I’m literally only free at like 1-2 AM ;-;

Also, as much as I love Zoro—, ( he’s so freaking handsome, hot, sexy and amazingly adorably cute ), I have SO MANY requests for him lol. I gotta get working!

[mycupoffanfiction]

The One

Coco Cruz x Reader

Summary: Coco turns you in a clumsy, shy mess every time he’s around and you just can’t quite find the courage to tell him how you feel, that is until your Mayan brothers drag you both to a funfair.

Warnings: Fluff, lots of shyness, Angel and Gilly trying to be wingmen, a brief mention of public sex acts.

Word count: Approx 2600

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves, I’ve been working on this fic for months, but it was never quite right, but I loved it too much to scrap it, so I’m super happy to finally be able to share it with you! I did struggle with this a bit, so I apologise if it’s not super smooth, but hey 🤷🏻‍♀️ This is just the first part, the second part will be with you soon. Enjoy! 💖

“How the fuck are you winning again?” Gilly groaned, slouching in his chair opposite you as you placed down a card on the table, effectively winning the round of the card game you were playing. Giggling, you shrugged and crossed one leg over the other, looking rather smug with yourself. “You challenged me, remember?” You giggled, all too happy that you’d won another round. Gilly sighed and tilted his head back before gathering up the cards. “One more round?” He asked, handing you the cards to shuffle and you nodded, taking them from him.

Shuffling the cards, you were mid conversation with Gilly about how you wanted to go to the fair that had been set up just outside of town, when Angel and Coco entered the clubhouse. “It’ll be great, also, I don’t believe him, but Coco said he’d never had cotton candy before and-.” “He’s never what?” Gilly replied, incredulous, if not a little over dramatic and you giggled, shaking your head. “There’s your chance for a date, hermana, take ‘im to get cotton candy.” Gilly chuckled, nudging your hand with his, to which you protested with a drawn out, hushed ‘noooo Gilly’.

You were a dear friend to the club and all of its members, so much so that you were often titled ‘hermana’ since you had become a sister to most members, though some of them, notably Bishop had taken to calling you mija. But really, you kept everyone in the club grounded and you were greatly appreciated for your loving, sweet nature, despite the fact that you were horrendously clumsy and on more than one occasion had managed to run into people, drop everything and break things, not that anyone minded. But it always seemed to happen more prominently around Coco and the boys were beginning to notice it happen more frequently when you were around him.

“What are you two up to?” Angel asked, interrupting your thoughts as you shuffled the cards. “Just having a game.” Gilly replied, going on to tell Angel about how he’d totally won the last three rounds, to which Angel snorted in disbelief. It was another moment before you even realised that Coco was there, he’d not said a word, but you looked up to deal the cards between you, only to see him eyeing you over Gilly’s shoulder and you fumbled with the cards, some of the deck falling from your hands and spilling over the table and scattering everywhere while you attempted to keep them together.

“Oh jesus- fucking- hi Coco.” You managed to squeak out, Gilly trying so hard to contain his laughter as Angel gathered up the cards that had dropped to the floor and you felt the heat of embarrassment surge through you as you shuffled the cards back into a stack. “Hey corazón.” Coco responded with a light chuckle at your sudden bout of clumsiness and you felt yourself melt at the name he used for you, hoping it wasn’t too obvious how shy and embarrassed you were.

“I’ll get some beer.” Coco announced, throwing you a smile as he walked away. “How long is this gonna go on for? I can’t deal with you goin’ all butter fingers whenever you just fucking look at him.” Angel hissed, though he was far too amused by it all to actually be annoyed and you desperately wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “Everyone knows you love him.” Angel told you and your eyes went wide. “I’m pretty sure even Coco knows.” He chuckled and you felt even more nervous about saying anything. “Shut the fuck up, man. Don’t listen to Angel, hermana.” Gilly said, lightly whacking him on the arm. “You gotta tell Coco-.” “Tell me what?” Coco cut in as he came back with some bottles and you slid down a little in your seat. “Oh, our little hermana here-.” “Thinks it’s ridiculous that you’ve never had cotton candy before.” Gilly interrupted Angel, kicking him under the table and you gave him a thankful smile before shooting daggers at Angel who looked far too pleased with himself. “What?” Angel asked, giving you a mischievous grin.

Coco just looked at you with a raised brow, evidently not believing it one bit and you quickly reached for your drink, hoping at the very least that occupying yourself with the bottle would distract you a bit. Coco lit himself a cigarette and toked it a couple of times before taking a full draw of his smoke, reaching for his beer.

“So what about that fair outside of town this weekend?” Gilly asked. “I’m down, I need a change of fucking scenery.” Angel nodded. “Coco?” Gilly asked as you took a sip from your bottle. He shrugged, looking at the two men with indifference. “Hey, c’mon man, remember last time with the photobooth?” Angel nudged him, winking. “Shut up, carnal.” Coco rolled his eyes, taking a puff from his cigarette as Gilly snorted. “The fabled tale of Coco gettin’ loco with not one, but two girls in a fuckin’ photobooth.” Angel said, speaking as if it was some kind of epic tale, when really, it was more of a half drunk escapade that Coco barely remembered a wink of, apart from maybe the tale end of a two girl blowjob.

“You comin’ hermana?” Gilly asked, completely changing the subject and you looked between the three men, giving them a look of uncertainty. “I don’t know guys, you’re just gonna abandon me in the teacups again.” You pouted, Gilly and Angel immediately erupting into laughter at the memory from last year.

Coco huffed as he listened to the conversation. He didn’t care about finding girls to have a little fun with at the fair, if anything, he was more interested in something else, not that he was going to make that known, especially not with Angel and Gilly around.

Coco leaned over, draping his arm around the back of your chair. “I’ll go if you go, corazón.” He whispered in your ear and you instantly felt yourself burn up from his close proximity and the way he said those words, deep, enticing, but somehow still sweet and soft. Angel and Gilly too were far too wrapped up in retelling stories of their last trip to a fair to pay any attention to Coco’s actions and you swallowed heavily, glancing shyly across at him, the Mayan much closer than you had anticipated and as you faced him, eyes almost too timid to meet his, your breaths mingled for a moment with how closely he had leaned in.

“I’ll go.” You responded quietly, voice barely audible, but Coco heard you just fine and your response prompted a big, lopsided smile on his lips and you wondered how you’d even mustered the courage to respond.

“See you there, corazón.” He smirked, leaning back to take the last sip of his beer before he stood up from the table abruptly enough to get the attention of Angel and Gilly.

“Gotta go, got shit to do with Letty.” He said, putting his bottle down on the table. “See you later ‘mano.” Angel waved him off, Gilly eyeing your flustered state and giving you a questioning look as you attempted to pull yourself together.

“You alright hermana?” He asked. “Probably.” You nodded, clearing your throat a little and shifting in your seat, uncomfortable under the questioning looks you were getting from both men before you finally decided to awkwardly say goodbye to your brothers and excuse yourself from the table.

“Tell me I wasn’t the only one who saw that?” Gilly hissed at Angel. “Nah man, I saw the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her.”

The next day was far too quick to come around and by the time you’d rocked up to the fun fair on the back of Gilly’s bike, you felt like the last day had slipped away from you far faster than you would have liked. It wasn’t that you weren’t looking forward to spending the day with your boys, you were so excited to spend some time with them away from the MC. But your apprehension came more from being afraid that you might fuck things up with Coco. What if you told him how you felt and he rejected you? What if he avoided you? That would crush you, but while you had been nervous about admitting feelings to Coco, all of your brothers knew that the two of you would be perfect together, which was why they were adamant on pushing you both together despite your often silent panic when they did so.

It was early evening as you walked with Gilly over to where Angel was standing in the parking lot, leaning against his bike, waiting impatiently for you both.

“You’re gonna tell Coco today, right?” Angel asked before he even greeted you, pushing away from his bike before approaching you and Gilly. “Oh yeah, it’s real nice to see you too Angel.” Gilly replied in a sarcastic tone, making the taller of the two snort in response. “But you’re gonna, right?” Gilly joined in, turning to look at you as you glanced at the two bikers who stared at you expectantly. “I mean… Maybe?” You answered, hoping it was enough to get them off your back about Coco, but it only seemed to make it worse because Angel was adamant a plan he’d come up with for how you should tell Coco was ‘fool proof’, whatever that implied.

“We’re meeting Coco in the fair, he’s late.” Angel informed you both as Gilly began to lead the group of you across the parking lot towards the entrance booth. “Club shit?” Gilly asked. “Nah, somethin’ to do with Letty.” He shrugged.

You stood with a grin on your lips as you watched Gilly and Angel playfully banter between them as they waited to have a go at winning something at a booth with water pistols and targets.

As you watched, you almost jumped out of your skin when you felt two hands gently grip your shoulders and you barely had time to react before you heard his deep, low voice, quickly relaxing you. “Whoa, relax corizon, s’just me.” Coco spoke softly in your ear. “Coco,” You looked over your shoulder at him with an uncontrollable smile, the biker coming round to your side, his arm staying around your shoulders.

“Sorry I’m late, was making cake with Letty.” Coco told you with a smile. “Don’t tell Angel that.” He added, making you giggle and shake your head. “I won’t, your secret is safe with me.” You replied, voice quiet and soft. Coco looked over at you, his grip on your arm tightening slightly as he caught your gaze, noting how relaxed you looked, how relaxed you felt against him and it brought a warmth to his heart to see you that way.

Angel glanced over his shoulder at Coco and the pair nodded at each other in a silent greeting, Angel smirking as soon as he saw you tucked against Coco’s side with his arm around you before he turned his attention back to the game when it was his and Gilly’s turn.

“Wanna go do shit without those two?” Coco asked. “Gonna have another headache if I gotta babysit them.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, I’d like that.” You nodded, letting Coco tug you along with him.

Coco walked you through the fairground, stopping by stalls and booths along the way to play a few games, his smile always doubling in size whenever he heard you giggle, noticing you enjoying yourself in his company. Coco had wanted to spend time with you and talk to you for a while, but no matter how hard he tried, one of the Mayans always seemed to drop themselves into the conversation before he even had a chance to try and ease you out of your shell and give you his full, undivided attention.

And now, as you both found yourself on the furthest side of the fairground, overlooking a beautiful sunset in the distance with a bag of candy floss in Coco’s hand that he shared with you.

It was such a sweet moment, calm and dreamy, the ambience of funfair was soft in the background, the soft, golden glow of the sunset gently casting over the desert horizon.

Coco looked over at you, bathed in golden light, gorgeous with a soft smile on your lips. He felt himself smile uncontrollably as you leaned against his side, his hand finding yours, fingers slowly and gently intertwining.

It felt right, it felt like it was meant to be in the sweet, serene moment you shared together and Coco knew right then and there that he’d found the one for him. You were the one.

“Coco,” It came out as a whisper, warmth filling you when you realised how naturally your hand had fit in his, how wonderful his touch felt against yours. “Yeah, corazón?” He asked, barely above a whisper, his voice low and warm against your ear as he leaned against you.

“I… I’m-.” You cut yourself off with a sigh, eyes cast down at your feet, trying to hide yourself, the feeling of shyness overcame you.

“Hey, take your time, mi estrellita.” Coco hummed softly to you, his voice soothing as you drew in a deep, slow breath. But when you became too shy to respond, he smiled, bringing your hand up to his chest, prompting you to look at him, a bit too timid to hold his gaze fully. “Look at me, mi corazón.” Coco whispered, reaching over to lift your chin with his fingers.

You shared a comfortable moment of silence together, your hand resting against his chest, the background chatter and laughter of the fair adding to the ambience, the sun slowly lowering just enough to leave you bathed in a soft, hazy twilight.

“I know, I know that every time you look at me, you get shy.” Coco said, watching as you tore your gaze away from him quickly. “Hey hey, wait, hold on corazón.” He urged, tugging you back to him gently. “But I get butterflies every time I look at you, I get this fuckin’ uncontrollable smile whenever I see you lookin’ at me ‘cause fuck, ma, you drive me crazy.” He smiled to himself, his eyes lighting up as he spoke openly about how he felt.

“It drives me fuckin’ crazy whenever I think about you, I think ‘bout all this shit I wanna do with you, shit I’ve never wanted to do with anyone before.” He confessed, both of his hands holding yours to his chest as he spoke and you couldn’t help but look at him and wonder if you weren’t just dreaming. “Really?” You managed to get out. “Yeah, I can’t get’chu outta my mind.” Coco grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hands.

“I wanna take you on a date, wanna make you happy in every way I can, in every way possible ‘cause you deserve nothin’ less.” He paused, drawing in a deep breath before his eyes met yours. “Will you let me do that? Will you let me make you my girl?” He asked softly, watching as you smiled, shyly nodding, a little taken aback by his sweet words.

“I’d love that, Coco.” You said, almost in a whisper, but Coco met you with a bright grin before he leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Mi estrellita.” He whispered, pulling you against his chest and holding you close, embracing you gently, his heart fluttering, feeling on top of the world, because Coco got his girl.

He found the one.

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