#but ALSO she has this great like. void like.

[solidwater05]

Big post with a whole bunch of species headcanons! Not every character is here and some headcanons have more detail than others simply because I happened to have more ideas for those

First I want to say that in my headcanon, avians and bird hybrids are different things. While hybrids (in general) are a mix of different species with any combination of traits, avians are pretty uniform in what kind of bird traits they have, and in general avians are genetically more similar to each other than random birds hybrids are to each other. With that out of the way-

Grian is a parrot avian, and he has a ton of vocal stims, from whistling and singing to mimicking noises he hears.

Martyn is a parrot hybrid, and he loooves to do silly voices and mimick creeper hisses

---

Gem became an anglerfish sea monster of sorts thanks to the water in Hermitcraft. The same happened to Mumbo (catfish) and Grian (cod). And also False but I don't know what kind of fish fits her </3

Pearl is also a fish, but in a different way. She's a salmon that can shapeshift into a human (or any mix between fish and human, like a mermaid)

---

In Secret Life, Gem had the great idea to replace her eye with an eye of ender. She became some sort of end portal creature. Nobody else has ever seen anything like it and frankly, they're scared. But Gem thinks that it's standard for a universe so full of horror

---

Skizz is an angel, and angels are soulless! This is why he wasn't in Double Life, the soulbound mechanic didn't work with him.

Another angel is Zedaph, he's a sheep/angel hybrid. He has a weird half-soul thing going on but it's fine really.

Zedaph prefers not to fly long distances if he can avoid it, because long ago he hurt his wings badly and he has chronic pain now

---

Impulse is a demon, and while demons can usually fly, his wings are underdeveloped and can't get him off the ground. He uses elytra instead.

Scar is another winged elytra user. He's a vex and vexes can fly, but it's painful for him to use his wings

---

Scar is an actual vex like like the ones evokers summon, and he uses some sort of vex magic to appear hybrid-like. His true form is a little vex guy.

Cub is a human turned vex, and his hybrid-like appearance is his true form. He can look fully human if he wants to, but not fully vex

---

Xisuma is a voidwalker. Voidwalkers are beings that form very rarely when particles and soul fragments lost to the void come together and become conscious. They're the only beings that can survive in the deepest part of the void

Voidwalkers are so rare that most of them live their whole lives without finding another living being, especially because they don't tend to leave the bottom of the void.

Because voidwalkers spend their whole lives in complete darkness, their eyes aren't super well developed. Xisuma's vision is blurry, he has visual snow, and he's very sensitive to light. His helmet actually filters out a lot of light so it doesn't give him a headache

His helmet also helps him breathe. Voidwalkers are not made for high pressure atmospheres

---

Etho is a phantom hybrid. He's allergic to cats and also the sun. He needs very little sleep. His silver hair is not a species trait, it's dyed

^that's a Hermitcraft-only headcanon. I see him as a silverfish in the Life series, for no particular reason. The silver hair is a species trait in that case

Bdubs is a glare hybrid, being scared of the dark is part of his glare instincts. The moss coat isn't part of him but I'm sure he could be mossy if he wanted to. He can probably fit inside a moss block

---

Tango is a blaze hybrid. Or a blazeborn? I imagine it's a similar situation to avians and bird hybrids but I haven't put that much thought into this one. And both blazeborn and blaze hybrid can be shortened to blaze anyways

She can't get burned, and water hurts him. Water breathing negates water damage

His flame naturally burns orange, but it can be other colors depending on what she's using as fuel. For example, the blue Dungeon Master look comes from burning soul sand

Her body temperature also depends on fuel. Normal, orange Tango freezes very easily, but blue Tango's body temperature is so high that he doesn't even feel the cold

He has tritanopia, as do all netherborns. There's only really two colors in the nether so beings from there didn't evolve the ability to see more than that

She can hover, which he uses mostly to break her fall and do big jumps

Because she can't touch water (without potions at least), he takes soul sand baths like a chinchilla. Yes, this makes him blue for a while

[suncaptor]

Like I do think we push past how willing Feferi was to kill Eridan wayyyyy too fast too. Like. Ngl.

[hecatesbroom]

Apparently, today's brainrot of choice is a Golden Girls Sound of Music AU where Rose is Maria, Dorothy's the Captain, and Blanche is the Baroness, only that one scene where the Baroness visits Maria in her bedroom ends very differently & they end up in a polycule

[1tsjusty0u]

i may post clips from my switch later but depending on if this works or not but. can you get the secret stone/defeat a dungeon boss without the sages? excluding the places in the depths and the final fight. if you dont have a sage with you when trying to activate the thingymajig (like the opening of the gates in the fire dungeon) it’ll do that access denied symbol like with the first door you couldnt open the great sky island without the shrines. because of that i dont think its possible to do the water dungeon or the wind temple. i also dont think its possible to do the lightning dungeon?? i need to replay it to see first. however. there are two dungeons in the depths that might be possible(??). first one is the spirit temple, locked without minerus mask. it Is possible to break it a tiny bit by going into the island without starting her quest, just going no visibility + you have to have the paraglider or regional phenomena quest, but thats not the goal here. i’ll test later to see if bringing the mask just works to open it but i dunno. either case though as far as i can tell the only thing stopping you from pulling a fast one is a door that descends downward. so, hypothetically speaking, if you were to clip through the platform what would happen? i dont have too much faith in this but i dont know how its going to work. however the one im the most interested in is the fire temple. see, its a bit hard to get to at first because the chasm at death mountain is blocked off until you start the quest, and the entrance is blocked off with marbled roast and you cant use bombs. but the rest of the temple is open and ive been able to get in. you just cant activate the gates or the things that singal a lock to open (assuming the later one but the former ive tested). but the thing is. what if u noclipped in. the fake zelda is actually already standing there, no quest or not. so how would the ai react to you getting in early? how much sequence breaking will the hit game tears of the kingdom try to prevent before it lays on its knees? my biggest fear is that nothings going to happen and the cutscene wont happen, but because zelda is there i doubt it and im going to assume the cutscene plays once your in, sage or not. or hell maybe the cutscene wont play, zelda wont be in there, and youll be softlocked unless you teleport. if you can fight the boss, im really curious as to whatll happen with the tear. will the cutscene play with no present sage in it? will it not play at all? will it play with the sage. i have no clue what version of totk im on but i really hope the hydro clip hasnt been patched yet, or theres another clipping method out there because i swear i Will find out one way or another

[infizero]

i may get shot for this but personally i dont think theres really anything wrong with death note's female characters

[lilyliveredlittlerichboy]

sorry gushing again. i just feel so utterly lucky and blessed and amazed to have a friend like her. every time we spend time together - no matter the context; i come away from it feeling invigorated, smiling ear to ear, feeling an utterly indescribable amount of love and joy, for this wonderful human who has found her way into my life and made herself at home in my heart. and yes to be fair ive worked really hard to make her welcome there. because i want her there. i want her in my life, right where she is. it's perfect. she's perfect. and i love her so much

[gaydryad]

ok question if hypothetically I were to make a html + css template for making custom pokémon teams (cough such as for OCs cough) in the Bulbapedia widget style, would anyone else be interested in using it? if so I will go into this trying to write it as an actual decent template

[arolesbianism]

Some more concept designs for my newest iterator ocs! In order we have Endless Grains of Sand (she/her), Deep Coated Mist (she/her), Purity Preserved (he/they), and Twisted Orbit (he/they/she). This is also in order from oldest to youngest, Sand and Mist are both Very old

(Synchronized Light is also a part of the group, they’re the very youngest)

[starw1sh]

Never before have I read a book where it got MORE boring after a group of friends essential murdered another one of their friends. HELP ME.

[ff2-soda-pop]

can my mom please stop telling me that everythings gonna be fine when theres a very very high likelihood that it absolutely will not be fine

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part six

602 words

one two three four five

Steve is a horrible artist. “I suck.” He slumps in his seat. 

Carol places her paintbrush into the cup of water between them and leans over to see his paper. “...Nooo this is good,” she says, but Steve can clearly see the way her mouth twists as if she’s holding in a laugh. It’s a great show of restraint for her. He’s actually kinda impressed.

Steve pushes her away gently and turns his easel so she can’t see anymore. She cackles. 

Steve huffs and studies his painting. It was supposed to be a dog but looks more like a frankly unsettling misshapen creature. He shivers and paints over the things creepy ass eyes that were previously staring into his soul.  

“Aw. I liked it better before.” 

Steve jumps, dropping his brush - that was loaded with black paint - into his lap. He’s never been happier that their art teacher makes them wear aprons - these are his favorite jeans. He puts the brush in the water cup. 

The voice snickers and Steve finally turns, heart racing. He already knows who it is before he meets the big brown eyes. Eddie has sat to his left since the beginning of this semester (which is also when Steve began to develop this little obsession but who’s counting). 

He didn’t take into account that turning his painting away from Carol would put it right into Eddie’s line of sight. 

Steve raises a brow. “You’re joking, right?”

Eddie grins and drops his chair back to the ground as opposed to balancing on the back two legs. He turns his easel enough that Steve can see his painting. It’s just as, if not more, disturbing than his little dog creature thing. Steve’s not quite sure what it is, but it looks slimy.

“Dude, gross,” Steve says, but he’s smiling. 

That night, Tommy gets into an argument with Carol and calls Steve to complain about it. She wanted to know why all he ever wants to do is hook up and honestly, Steve was kinda wondering the same thing. 

All Tommy wants to talk about these days is them hooking up or asking Steve if he’s hooking up with anyone (don’t be a prude, man, tell me what happened) no matter how many times Steve tells him he’s just focusing on school right now. 

A lie, he’s focused alright, but it sure as hell isn’t on school.

He didn’t tell Tommy any of that, though. Instead, he offered up his house for the weekend. Tommy’s always in a better mood when he has a party to look forward to. The boy had immediately perked up. 

Steve's kinda regretting it the next day, but he made his bed.

Eddie i like seeing you, it makes my day the disappearing act was real cute almost made me lose my damn mind, man, point taken do you got anything good planned for the weekend? i heard there’s a party  maybe i’ll see you there, with your new job and all p.s. have fun at your campaign (i learned what it’s called!)  -H 

Steve slips his sunglasses on during his walk to the cafeteria, and no it’s not just because he wants to stare freely at Eddie - he has a headache. Looking at Eddie is just a perk. 

He’s wearing a white shirt again. Steve has the freedom to look so much that his gaze strays to the other people at Eddie’s table and notices that they’re all wearing matching white shirts with the same print on the front. They printed matching shirts for their nerd club. 

Steve is gonna die.

seven (just realized I forgot to add this link for a whole day😭 sorry y'all)

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sorry if i missed anyone!!

[togenabi]

the promised knight

knight!roronoa zoro x princess!reader

♡— after a lifetime apart, zoro finds his way back to you

word count♡— 8.7k (screams into the void)

genre♡— royalty au, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn bc a lot of things happen, but there's fluff bc I need there to be

content notes♡— fem!reader wears dresses, mentions of death and grief, very plot heavy, kuina and mihawk are here, canon-typical violence, original side characters, no use of y/n, proofread(ish), inaccurate royalty things, inaccurate chemistry/poisons/acids, yes I got the name florentia from ill be the matriarch

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— quick explanation!: a regent has no right to the throne, they're just someone stepping in temporarily while the next monarch is absent or unable to execute their powers. happy reading!!

Your happiest years were when everyone was together.

Those were the days you’d sneak out of your lessons to go play in the training grounds. You’d find your best friends arguing about something or other, fighting with wooden swords and chasing each other around.

Kuina and Zoro did their best to include you in whatever game they were playing. You found it all good fun, even if you were mostly being rescued or hidden away somewhere. The proud smiles on their faces when they saved you always made the wait for them worth it.

“Why do I have to play the bad guy?” A young Zoro whines, frowning deeply with shoulders slumped. His wooden sword hangs lazily in his hand, pointed to the ground. 

Opposite him, Kuina’s blade was up, stable and correct with proper posture. “Because we agreed I would save the princess today!”

You remember sending Zoro a small smile, trying to reassure him, “You can save me next time, Zoro. I promise.”

Zoro complained, but gave his all acting as a bandit out to rob you. You and Kuina would run into the meadow—hands held in each other’s—squealing and laughing. You’d always end up collapsed together; among the grass and the flowers. They would cheer and scream into the sky, happy that the great knights protected their princess once again.

But that same meadow is now covered with a blanket of melancholy. The colors aren’t as vibrant as they were back then. Flowers no longer bloom like they did. The children’s laughter has been replaced by a deafening silence.

Everything changed when Kuina died.

She was hit by a stray arrow, they said. They called it a tragic accident. 

More sadness only seemed to follow after she was gone. Zoro left without a word, abandoning his training, and you along with it. Your mother, Queen Florentia, passed due to an illness a few months after that. In a blink of an eye, you lost everything back then.

The large doors to your chambers slam shut, breaking you from your train of thought. The thud echoes into every corner before fading into noiselessness once more. 

A maid rushes in, completely out of breath and practically stumbling towards you. “Your Highness!” She gasps. Waving a hand, you gesture for her to calm down.

“Selma,” You pour her some water in a glass. It’s strange to see your personal maid so distressed. “What did you find?”

Practically inhaling the water, she places a hand over her heart before explaining, “You were right, Your Ladyship. The commander informed me that several knights had poison hidden in their quarters.”

Her eyes trail to the glass she’s holding, then to the pitcher. Selma’s face becomes appalled as it sinks in that you had poured her a drink. You cut her off before she can make a fuss about it.

“Never mind all that.” There are more pressing matters than decorum right now. “What else did Mihawk say? Have the knights been apprehended?”

“No, my Lady.” Selma retrieves a transparent vial from her pocket. “The commander said there's a chance the poisons were planted. Trustworthy men could have been framed… He discourages you from trusting any of them at all.”

The vial is small, barely larger than your thumb. To an untrained eye, it looks like nothing is there. You hold it up to the window, letting the sun’s setting rays shine through the glass.

There it is. A near-invisible, lavender sheen in liquid. The queen regent’s signature poison.

“Damn it all.” You sigh, falling into an armchair. 

It’s common knowledge that most of the people are loyal to Queen Regent Cassiopeia. Not to you, the rightful heir to the throne.

Ever since she took the position after your mother’s death, she’s been doing everything in her power to discredit you. Though she's not in the official line of succession, her goal is to become queen by any means necessary.

You’ve only been able to hold on for so long because there are still people loyal to your mother, like Commander Mihawk. However, it will take only one slip up for your standing to collapse. Cassiopeia knows this, and you suspect that she plans to completely ruin you at the upcoming knighting ceremony.

On a paneled wall in your room, encased in an ornate golden frame, hangs a portrait of Queen Florentia. The gold reminds you of the gilded dagger she gave you as a child. 

Subconsciously, your hand moves to rest over your pocket; where the dagger is hidden under your skirt. What would your mother have done in this situation?

You scan the painting as if the image would respond. It doesn’t, but your eyes settle on the necklace she’s wearing. It was her most prized possession, and she had promised to give it to you when you were older, but it’s sadly lost to time.

The vial grows heavy in your fist. Your mother would stop at nothing until Cassiopeia is defeated, so that’s what you’ll set out to do.

“Selma, get me some ink and parchment.” You order, feeling more determined. “I have a plan.”

Dracule Mihawk burned the note as soon as he finished reading it. Your idea was brilliant, if only a little complicated to execute. 

Cassiopeia will demand you choose a personal knight during the ceremony. Assuming all the knights are loyal to the queen regent, none of them would be a safe choice.

So, you asked Mihawk to hire a skilled fighter to pose as a knight. Someone whose loyalty cannot be bought. Immediately, he knew who to recruit. Though he warned you that you might not find the man… agreeable.

“I don’t care.” You replied stubbornly. “I can’t afford to be picky. Just make sure that he won’t kill me in my sleep.”

Mihawk muses that he might be killed by you in his sleep. Because in a shady, run-down tavern, he sits beside a familiar green-haired swordsman nursing a drink at the bar.

“Fancy seeing you here, commander.” Zoro spits out the title in disgust.

“It seems that some things never change.” Mihawk hums. “You’re still in the same place as you were when we last fought.”

“And your legend ends with you kissing up to that false queen.” Disappointment practically drips from his tone.

“And here you are,” There’s an amused glint in the knight commander’s eye. “...still not able to beat me, Roronoa Zoro.”

Zoro’s jaw clenches in frustration. He breathes out deeply, “What do you want, old man?”

“Join my knights.”

Scoffing, Zoro can’t believe his ears. Is this guy serious? “I’m no knight. Not anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mihawk tests. “The princess needs someone not easily dissuaded.”

At the mention of you, Zoro freezes. He squints at the commander as it dawns on him, “You don’t serve that Cassiopeia bitch.”

“Obviously.”

“But why did you become commander only after Queen Florentia died?” Zoro asks. “Everyone thought you were bought off.”

“That’s besides the point.” Mihawk hisses. “I know you’ve been wanting to make it up to the princess. I’m giving you a chance to do that on a silver platter.”

Zoro stays quiet, eyes watching the alcohol ripple in his glass. He’s not drunk enough for this discussion. And he meant what he said, that he’s not a knight. That dream died with Kuina, and he chose to pursue less honorable ways to become stronger.

It’s funny how Mihawk, who was an outlaw, traded his jacket for a suit of armor. And now, he's trying to act righteous. But some things are just—

“It’s not too late to change things.” Mihawk attempts to persuade him, calmer this time. “Something tells me you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Shaking his head, Zoro can’t believe this man is talking like he knows him. “What do you know about regret?”

When the commander doesn’t respond, Zoro turns to see Mihawk’s face, a grave expression marks his features.

“I know far too much, I’m afraid.”

Zoro studies him for a moment longer, curious as to what he meant—but he doesn’t dare ask. Only an idiot would test Dracule Mihawk. 

This master swordsman, whom he’s looked up to for so many years, has changed drastically. Perhaps everyone has. It makes Zoro wonder how much you might’ve changed in the years he’s been gone.

You. He’s—there’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to ask… but does he have the right to? 

Who is he kidding? He doesn’t. 

And yet, Zoro can’t help but wonder if he passes on this opportunity and regrets it, would he spend the rest of his life wishing he could make up for it?

After downing his drink, Zoro slams the glass on the bar counter.

“What do I need to do?”

Selma assists you with your hair and makeup on the day of the ceremony. She’s practically buzzing as she flutters around you. It’s nice that she’s still enthusiastic about things like these, even when dangers lurk in the shadows.

“You look stunning, Your Ladyship!” She gushes, adjusting the different layers of your dress so that it falls on you perfectly. “A vision, you are. Just like Queen Florentia.”

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, despite not feeling as sure and confident as your mother was. Would that change, if you were to become queen?

A knock sounds on your door. Selma rushes to answer it, and lets Mihawk into your chambers. He steps in, but remains by the entryway.

“You look lovely, princess.” The commander bows to you in greeting. “I was instructed to escort you once you’re ready.”

Nodding, you approach him and hold onto his arm. “Let us be on our way.”

Keeping your face carefully neutral, you whisper to Mihawk under your breath, “Will you really not let me know the knight’s name? How am I supposed to know who to appoint?”

“You’ll know.” Mihawk pats your hand reassuringly. “Without a doubt, you’ll know. I just hope you’re not too hard on him.”

You side-eye him. “He’s not a convict or something, is he?”

Mihawk presses his mouth shut. This bastard, is he trying not to laugh? “You might actually prefer a convict over him.” 

That pulls a frown out of you that you cannot contain. What on earth is that supposed to mean? Is the man that bad? How are you supposed to mentally prepare with such vague warnings?

All thoughts of the mystery knight fade into the back of your mind, however, when you and Mihawk make your entrance at the throne room. 

The extravagant hall is decorated to the nines. Flags of different family crests hang from the ceiling. Flowers bloom at every window sill. You smile at it all, at your people—but it fails to reach your eyes. It’s difficult to truly smile when Cassiopeia stands dangerously close to your mother’s throne.

You curtsy when you reach the steps, one hand still on Mihawk’s arm as the fabric of your skirt dips onto the floor. You hear murmurs of approval from the ministers in the front row, pleased to see the good relationship between the princess and queen regent.

But they don’t see through your gloves, how your grip on your skirt is tense and far too tight. They don’t see how Cassiopeia’s smile is truly a smirk when you lower your head to her.

“Lovely to have you here, darling.” She says, and you fight the urge to laugh. ‘Lovely’ would be if she accepted her place and let go of her greed. 

Mihawk guides you to the smaller throne on the left. This has been your seat since you were born. If Cassiopeia had her way, it would be your seat until the end of your days.

She glides to the center of the dais, the train of her excessive dress flows like a river after her. She stands; graceful, powerful and smiling—but she will never be happy until she can sit on the throne and wear your mother’s crown.

Whatever it takes, you will find a way to stop her.

“Welcome to the long-awaited knighting ceremony.” Cassiopeia addresses the audience. “It is an honor to have the kingdom’s finest pledge to serve and protect us.”

The ceremony proceeds to speeches from several dignitaries. Mihawk delivers a short yet intense declamation about the knightage being the greatest honor; and hands the queen regent an elaborate, bejeweled sword.

“These warriors before us today are hereby called forward to receive Knighthood. The kingdom will forever be grateful for your service.” Cassiopeia proclaims.

Attentively observing the knights lined up, you keep an eye out for the one Mihawk recruited for you. One at a time, Cassiopeia announces their name before tapping their shoulders with the ornamental blade.

You grow restless as the line dwindles. Frustrated, you throw questioning looks at the commander’s direction. He skillfully avoids your gaze. The nerve.

When only about five men are left, you begin to study them all and weigh your options. Perhaps you should pick someone with a smaller build, so that you can have a better chance of escaping? You also spotted someone who appeared clumsy. If you were to outsmart him, your odds of surviving weren’t so bleak.

But then—dramatically, as if in slow motion—the great doors to the throne room opened with a loud, booming sound. Everyone turned as light poured into the hall.

A swordsman makes his entrance. His armor is unassuming, but the three blades at his side demand attention. He wears a helmet over his head, but even after so much time, you’d know those eyes anywhere.

Mihawk was right. You would have preferred a convict—or maybe some rogue, or a thief who would rob you blind. You would have preferred anyone over Roronoa Zoro.

You thought you’d never see him again, but he’s here, marching towards the end of the line. You gape at him, feeling too many emotions all at once. Why is he here? Why now?

Mihawk intercepts Cassiopeia before she can question Zoro’s identity. “Forgive me, queen regent. This young man ran late due to an errand I sent him out on.” 

How brilliant of him. Cassiopeia hates unexpected interruptions, but would never express her frustrations openly with so many people watching.

It’s amusing to see her grin and bear it. “That’s… quite alright, commander. I’m glad he made it before the end of the ceremony.”

When only Zoro remains to be appointed, you stand and call for the queen regent’s attention.

“Should he accept, this man shall be my personal knight.” You declare as Zoro’s gaze meets yours.

“What of your decision, knight?” Cassiopeia asks. Zoro nods, and the queen regent’s gaze sharpens. She understands that something is amiss, but passes the decorated blade to you without a word.

Back when you were children, you used to dream of this moment together. Kuina and Zoro would kneel before you on the grass beneath a shining sun, pledging their unwavering loyalty as you tap their shoulders with a stick.

You’re no longer children, but as Zoro kneels before you now, you still feel like a child all the same. Your clothes feel too big. The throne room is too vast; the ceiling too high. The sword is too heavy in your hands as you raise it.

“Roronoa Zoro. I hereby dub thee into the honorable order of knights as my chosen protector.” The blade lands on his shoulder—his right first, then the other. You pray to the stars that no one notices your hold quivering.

“Arise, Sir Zoro, and be recognized.”

You’re no longer children, but you’re still here. Playing a different sort of game.

Mihawk, the wise man that he is, makes himself scarce after the ceremony. You’re left to awkwardly journey back to your chambers with Zoro in tow. He doesn’t speak a word the entire time, but you can feel his eyes burning a hole through the back of your head. 

Selma is there when you get back, your usual afternoon refreshments prepared. She approaches you, but stops short when she sees Zoro.

“Leave us.” You tell her. She obeys, albeit reluctantly—looking back over her shoulder more than once as she exits.

After the door closes shut, the outside world feels a million miles away; making the air feel tense. You hastily take off your gloves, the fabric suddenly feels constricting against your skin. Every fiber of your being wants to scream at him.

Roronoa Zoro. Your best friend who had left all those years ago. You don’t even know where to start. 

Maybe throwing something at him will make you feel better. 

You throw one of your gloves. The fabric hits his chest before falling pathetically. 

“Seriously?” Zoro frowns at you, unimpressed. You throw the other one. It meets the same fate.

Grumbling under his breath, Zoro takes off his helmet. It vexes you how you subconsciously hold your breath until you see his face.

You huff skeptically, “Why are you here?”

“Mihawk said you needed help.” He answers with a shrug, causing his armor clink. 

After a breath, he speaks cautiously, “I didn’t know things had gotten this bad.”

“How could you have known?” You bite back, “You left, Zoro.”

In a sense, you understand why Mihawk chose him. You asked for someone who wouldn’t kill you in your sleep, and Zoro—at least, the one you knew—definitely wouldn’t.

Some (rational) part of your brain is telling you to keep quiet and accept his help. With Cassiopeia planning a mutiny, time is something you don’t have a lot of. 

But your heart still feels angry and hurt when you see his—stupidly handsome—face. The years just had to treat him well, didn’t they?

“I’m thankful for your help,” You admit disgruntledly. “But I’m not happy about it.”

Zoro calls your name. It makes your heart ache a bit, but you hold a hand up to silence him. 

“Please, just—I need time to process this, Zoro.” Turning away from the knight, your eyes find the window. The sunset paints the meadow in deep oranges and blues. It doesn’t make you feel any better.

“...We’ll talk tomorrow.” You promise, your tiredness evident from your tone.

Zoro lingers, hesitating. But he doesn’t push you. You hear his armor shift as he bows before he leaves.

That night, Zoro stands guard outside your door. It’s good that no one else is around, it allows him to think in peace. About you.

The last time Zoro saw you, you were a small thing, getting dirt on the edge of your skirt. When he saw you today, sullying even the path you walked on felt like a crime. 

He knew you would be mad. He had prepared himself to be yelled at. Maybe he thought you would cry. How much you went through didn’t really sink in until he saw how exhausted you were. 

All the things he wanted to say, every apology and excuse, fade into nothing. The first thing he wants to tell you is how thankful he is that you’re still alive. It doesn’t matter that you stay mad at him forever, he’ll protect you for just as long.

Footsteps sound through the dim hallway. Zoro rests a hand on his blades, ready to fight back anyone who poses a threat. A knight he’s not acquainted with approaches, his steps staggering just a bit. The man carries a bottle of alcohol.

“Hey! New guy!” The stranger bellows. “This ’ere is a little something we prepared for ya, since yous didn’t eat dinner with us.” Zoro makes a mental note that they’ve been watching him.

“Take it, take it.” The knight tries to shove the bottle into Zoro’s hands. At the last second, Zoro spots a knife the man hides behind his back.

Quick on his feet, Zoro jabs the man’s neck, causing him to stumble. The knight charges at him, but Zoro effortlessly dodges. Grabbing the knight’s shoulder, Zoro slams his head onto the stone wall.

The bottle clatters to the floor as his opponent collapses, looking up at him in fear. Picking up the glass, Zoro sniffs at its contents. It’s laced with some sort of sedative. 

Zoro pries the knight’s jaw open before pouring the drugged beverage into his mouth. The amber liquid spills. The man coughs, gurgling and struggling in vain until he slumps onto the ground.

Observing the bottle inquisitively, Zoro shakes his head before dropping it again. What kind of amateurish attempt was this? Is the queen regent testing his skills? 

If anything, all this managed to do was—Zoro starts, turning to your door in alarm—…divert his attention.

Not a second later, he kicks down your door. The elaborately carved wood falls from its hinges, dust clouds billow once it crashes on the previously spotless tiles of your room.

You’re fighting off three large strangers clad in black, a dagger in your hand. Zoro tries not to think about how your eyes softened in relief when they landed on him as he cuts down one of the intruders. Maybe you still care for him a little.

“Took you long enough!” Or not.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He grunts back, slashing his sword at someone charging towards you. Zoro only realizes the deeper meaning to his words when you make a face. 

“Don’t make being late a habit, Zoro!” Stabbing an intruder’s side, you quip at him, “You and your dramatic entrances, I swear.”

Zoro bites back a grin. He missed you more than you’ll ever know. 

After taking down one of the intruders, you hide in your wardrobe as Zoro deals with the rest.

It would be smart to lock the door. Barricade it, so that no one can get to you on the off chance Zoro is defeated. But you don’t. You keep the door ajar to watch everything unfold. The way he fights is a captivating sight.

Look at him. Your knight in lackluster armor. Protecting you like how you always talked about as kids. He’s wielding two blades, one for each perpetrator still standing. You blink in surprise when you make out the third, sheathed blade. Kuina’s.

The more you examine him, the more you see how different he seems. He carries himself more confidently, unlike that boy who whined about roles, responsibilities and challenges. 

You also see how gruff he’s become. He’s grown stronger, for sure, but you get the sense that he’s closed himself off from the world. Perhaps the years weren’t as kind to him as you'd thought.

The last intruder lets out a pitiful cry as Zoro knocks him unconscious.

“I’ll tie them up and let Mihawk deal with them in the morning.” Zoro says, pausing to breathe for a moment before dragging the men out by their feet.

Emerging from your wardrobe, you become dismayed at the sight of your room in such a state. “Did you really have to kick down the door?” You groan.

Surprisingly, Zoro blanks, appearing sheepish. “...I didn’t know it would break like that. I just—you should get a damn better door.” He mumbles, heaving the doors up and resting them against the wall outside.

When he comes back from restraining the intruders, he stands before you awkwardly—like he doesn’t know what to do when he’s not fighting or cleaning up bodies.

No one says anything. You both just take each other in, not completely recognizing the person that looks back.

You don’t feel so angry at him anymore. When all’s said and done, everyone has different ways of dealing with grief. Your heart only grows conflicted, wishing you had been there for each other instead of being apart. Goodness knows you could have used someone by your side. You’re sure he did as well.

“I—” Zoro falters. “...I’m glad you’re okay.”

‘Okay’ isn’t how you would describe your current state, but you nod anyway. 

“You too, Zoro.”

In a secluded alcove in the royal gardens the following afternoon, you invite Mihawk for tea on the pretense of thanking him for your newly sworn knight. The story that spread was that you would have been done for were it not for Zoro. You don’t want to think about how true that might be.

“The queen regent is furious you were able to secure a knight loyal to you.” Mihawk informs you as he helps himself to some pastries. “We should avoid meeting for a while, lest she suspect anything of me.”

“Alright.” You agree. “Selma also informed me that we can gather statements from mistreated staff.” You show Mihawk a list of names. “If enough of them support us, and if we can prove Cassiopeia orchestrated what happened last night… We can take her down.”

“She will be busy attending a gala this evening. I’ll make sure no one is near her office while she’s gone.” Mihawk turns to Zoro, who is standing guard behind you, sending him a fearsome look. “Those men got a tad too close last night—”

“Mihawk.” You warn him to drop it. He doesn’t.

“Ensure that it doesn’t happen again, young man.” 

“It won’t.” Zoro replies icily. The commander only huffs in response. 

‘It won't happen.’, he said. But trouble finds you when Zoro steps on a tripwire in Cassiopeia's office. Arrows soar, launching from scattered, hidden contraptions. Zoro shoves you into a bookshelf, covering your frame with his.

“So much for her not finding out we were here.” You remark sarcastically, waiting for him to step back.

But then, as they cage your head, Zoro’s arms tense up. His expression contorts in discomfort.

“...Zoro?” Raising your hands, you cradle the sides of his face.

“Damn arrows,” He growls. “I think they’re poisoned.”

“What?!” You gasp, ducking under his arm to check his back. You find a wound where an arrow grazed his skin. “Of course you get injured when you don’t wear your armor.”

“Why don’t you try sneaking around in that thing, then?” Zoro argues, but you’re startled when the wound begins to bleed.

“We need to get you treated.” Panicking, you grab his arm and pull him along. He doesn’t budge. “Zoro, we should go.”

“No.” He refuses, hissing in pain all the while. “That bitch won’t let us find a way in here again. Let’s just be quick.”

“...Fine.” You cave, still worried, hating that he’s right. “At least stay still, search the desk. I’ll handle everything else.”

Zoro relents, opening every drawer and scanning every document in them. You turn your attention to the shelves, trying to find hidden compartments or anything that looks remotely suspicious.

It's not long before a loud crash makes you wince. Zoro found something.

A panel beneath the desk detaches, revealing an ornate box. Studying it, you hum, “It looks like we’ll need a key.” Zoro unsheathes one of his blades, cutting through the lock until it cracks open. 

You shake your head. “Or we could do that, sure.”

However, instead of the nefarious plans or blueprints you were hoping for, you find old papers. All of them yellowing with age. 

“It’s your handwriting.” Zoro points out, picking up the first document.

“What?” You lean in, reading the file over his shoulder. It’s a letter written to acknowledge a transfer of money. But the amount is astronomical, and you don’t remember signing anything of the sort.

“Look at the date.” Pointing to the corner, it reads more than ten years ago. And then it clicks, “My mother wrote this.”

“There’s more than one.” Zoro sifts through the papers, counting over ten.

“All of them are addressed to… Shimotsuki Koushirou?” He reads the name slowly. You look at each other, confused. Why would Queen Florentia be sending payments to Kuina’s father?

A tall longcase clock chimes to signal the hour. If you clean up now and review the evidence later, you can make it look like you were never here. You instruct Zoro to pack up the box.

“We should head out soon.” You say, moving to pick up the arrows scattered on the floor. 

“Be careful.” Zoro reminds you.

“I am.” You show him that you’re holding the arrows by their tail ends. “You can go ahead, if you want. Get that wound treated.”

“Do you really think I would leave you?” You can’t help the incredulous look you send his way. 

“...Forget I said anything.”

Back in your chambers, you twirl an arrow you decided to keep as evidence while examining the documents sprawled out on your carpet. 

Zoro grabs it from your hand. “I thought I told you to be careful with that.”

You think aloud as he sets the arrow to the side, “I just can’t figure out why my mother gave Koushirou so much money.”

“Maybe she felt bad about the accident.” Your swordsman suggests. “We all did.”

“But why did she have to keep it quiet…” Mumbling in thought, you read the last receipt Queen Florentia signed. It had been penned the week of her death.

The sky grows darker, and it becomes more difficult to see. Zoro strikes a match to light a few candles, bathing the room in a subtle, warm light.

Beneath the dim, flickering flames, the sharp arrow on your tea table glints ominously. 

It took you a long while to get over spacing out whenever you saw an arrow. It was one of the things that affected you after Kuina’s passing.

Sometimes, you think of how much better everything would be if she was still here. If it weren’t for that—

…accident?

“Zoro?” Your voice is unsteady, “...What do you remember about Kuina’s death?”

“It was some new guy at the training grounds.” He answers, frowning as he recalls what happened. “He misfired, and his knighthood got revoked after that.”

“But,” Memories come flooding back as you try to piece things together. “If the archers were practicing that day, what was Kuina doing in the grounds?”

“Kuina wasn’t in the grounds.” Zoro corrects you. “She was in that meadow we always went to.” 

He points to the view outside, raising a finger to trace the horizon. “The arrow flew through the fence, but it was really dangerous, even—” 

Zoro turns back to you with wide eyes. “Even the queen was almost hit! Holy shit, she was there to observe that day.” 

You blink at him in disbelief, “My mother was the real target.”

“And she didn’t want the culprit to know she realized, which is why she kept quiet about the money.” 

You collapse into a chair as you run your hands over your head. “Did anyone ever check the arrow for poison?”

“No.” Zoro’s face crumples. “She was hit straight in the heart... She wouldn’t have made it even if it wasn’t poisoned.”

“Oh, Kuina…” You choke back a sob, covering your face with both hands. “I’m so sorry it took us this long.”

“Wait.” Zoro calls out your name, taking your hand and kneeling in front of you. The strength of his grip hurts, but you don’t mind it. You need to feel that he’s with you right now; especially when his next question makes your heart fall through the floor.

“How did your mother die?” 

“She—she got sick. A lot of our people got sick that year.” You answer shakily, not liking where this is going. “Do you think…”

“Queen Florentia could have been poisoned.” Zoro whispers. “And I bet that fake bitch was responsible for it. For Kuina’s death too.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You counter, “Cassiopeia deals with poisons, sure, but she wasn’t even in the kingdom yet then.” 

“...Someone must have betrayed your mother so Cassiopeia could be queen regent.” He suggests, rubbing circles into your palm. “Because isn’t it convenient, how she was there to bring the people together after Her Majesty died?”

It’s confusing how the world seems to have slowed down, and yet your mind is spinning so quickly, you can’t process anything. You squeeze Zoro’s hand to anchor you, but you shatter all the same. 

“I hate everything.” You cry, tears streaming down your face. “I hate how I didn’t know—but we were kids! How were we supposed to know? And, I hate feeling so powerless. What—how, are we going to fix this?”

“We’ll find a way, I promise.” Zoro moves to embrace your form, but you glare at him.

“You. I hate you too.” You push him away weakly, but he doesn’t let you go. “I—I hate that you left, Zoro… You have no idea how lost I was.”

His eyes glisten with tears. “I was lost without you too.”

Zoro feels you melt into his arms. Your strength just vanishes, and you slump forward until your forehead touches his.

“...Don’t leave me then.” You whisper. You beg.

He holds your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Never.”

The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Zoro pressing the softest kiss to your temple as he tucks you in bed.

Selma barges in the next morning, slamming the (newly repaired) doors open. As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you’re starting to feel sad for the abuse your doors have been going through lately.

“Princess! Your Ladyship! Your Highness—” She stops abruptly, covering her mouth, looking scandalized. What is she so flabbergasted by—

Only then do you see Zoro sleeping on the floor beside you. He’s leaning on the bed, using his forearms as a pillow. One of his hands is intertwined tightly with yours.

“Your Highness!” Selma gasps playfully, gesturing to your mother’s portrait. “Right in front of Her Majesty!”

“Selma,” You sit up, letting go of Zoro’s hand. “Did you have anything important to report?”

“Ah!” She exclaims, face becoming worried once more, “The commander has been imprisoned!”

You curse, shaking Zoro’s shoulder to wake him. “Couldn’t you have told me that first?”

“Forgive me, princess. It’s not everyday I see you holding hands with a man. May I ask who confessed first, Your Highness?”

“Oh my god, Selma.” You groan. “Just go prepare my clothes.”

“Shall I dress you, or will Sir Zoro—”

“Selma!”

If Zoro heard any of Selma’s ramblings, he’s excellent at hiding it. You both get ready in record time. After which, he leads the way to the dungeons; careful to make sure you don’t run into anyone. 

“We can sneak him out through that secret passage we used to play in.” You whisper, your knight nods. 

“When we get to him, break the lock with your dagger. I’ll stand guard in case someone comes over.”

But someone already beat you to Mihawk’s cell. Zoro pulls you into a shadowed corner to hide.

The queen regent paces in front of the bars, her extravagant dress and cape out of place in this gloomy dungeon. 

Mihawk is on the ground, his wrists chained with heavy shackles. Yoru is noticeably missing from his back. Seeing him like this is heartbreaking.

“I should have known you’d help that wench.” Cassiopeia sneers. “You’ll regret not siding with me soon enough, Dracule.”

“Now that you’ve found me out, I can finally ask you to stop calling me that.” Mihawk yawns. “My name always sounded revolting in your voice.” Crazy bastard, will it kill him to try to stay alive?

“But Florentia called you that, didn’t she?” 

Zoro squints at how something about Mihawk changes at the mention of your mother. It’s almost imperceptible, but the air shifts dangerously. The queen regent should watch her mouth.

“Her name sounds revolting in your voice too.”

Cassiopeia scoffs. “You’re just like her. Thinking you’re better than everyone else.”

“Aren’t you talking about yourself?” Mihawk leans back, crossing his legs. “That’s not a good habit, Cassie.”

The queen regent kicks the cell. Mihawk doesn't flinch as she snarls, “I’ll deal with the princess and that knight... I’ll make you watch as the light fades from their eyes.” Gathering her skirt, her heels clack loudly as she stomps away.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, you and Zoro run to the commander.

“Mihawk!” You call out as you stab the lock with your dagger. It crumbles to the ground after a few strikes. “What happened? What did she charge you with?”

“Treason, apparently.” He shrugs, the chains holding him rattling together.

Mihawk goes on as you break his shackles, “This kingdom should be grateful we’re trying at all. We could easily leave them to their own devices—” You frown at him. 

“...But of course, we won’t do that.”

Sneaking into the library, you regroup with Selma; who passes on vital information.

“The queen regent has the palace on lockdown. Everyone has orders to take you in.” She tells you. “But I’ve rallied the staff. We're going to plead your case to the ministers, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Do you have my mother's letters?” She nods. “Good. Use them well. I'll make sure your efforts will not go to waste.” You say, giving her hands a firm squeeze. 

“Where’s that fake queen now?” Zoro looks eager for a fight.

“One of the butlers said that the queen regent disappears sometimes, and no one knows where she goes.” Selma explains, passing you a note from her source. “There are rumors that she smells like grass when she returns.”

Mihawk lets out a disbelieving laugh, “She must be at the secret garden.”

“The what?” You ask. That sounds exactly like something you would have loved as a child, but why haven’t you heard of it before?

“It’s a place reserved for queens. Only crowned monarchs should be allowed in there, or even know where it is.” He says. “That woman truly doesn’t know her place.”

“Why do you know about it?” Zoro asks.

After a pause, the older swordsman deflects, “I’ve been called a queen once.”

“Mihawk,” You urge him to be serious. “Can you take us there?”

Before he responds, Mihawk looks at you with something you can’t fully discern, as if he’s recalling an old memory.

“Of course. It’s your birthright, after all.”

The entrance to the secret garden is hidden in a passageway beneath the greenhouse. You imagine your mother walking along this path, to a sanctuary she could truly call her own.

But the vision darkens when you think of how Cassiopeia has been using the space all this time. You hope you're still able to recognize traces of your mother when you get there.

An iron gate stands at the end of the path. Vines tangle through the metal spirals and flowers. Mihawk holds a finger to his lips, carefully opening the gates without a sound except for the rustling of leaves. You all crouch behind a large plant that fans out, over your heads.

And then, you see it. You see what your mother left for you.

The centerpiece of the garden is an intricate pedestal, Yoru is propped up against it. On top of it, however, is a glass case displaying your mother’s most treasured golden necklace.

You almost want to run to it, but Zoro grabs your arm, warning you not to take another step. He nods towards where Cassiopeia stands in front of oddly shaped vials and strange devices containing diff chemicals. She douses a sword with an eerie purple liquid as she speaks.

“Three against one... That hardly seems fair.” She kisses her teeth. Looking over her shoulder, she glares. “Why don’t we fight on even ground?”

Out of nowhere, a large cage falls towards the three of you. Mihawk pushes you and Zoro out of the way, but isn’t able to avoid the cage himself.

“And I just escaped. What a shame.” Mihawk fusses, but you can see that he’s relieved you’re alright.

“Maybe you’re meant to be in a cell, Dracule.” Cassiopeia remarks. “I’ll have your kids join you shortly.”

There’s only one of her, this should be easy, right?

She throws a bottle at you. Luckily, you’re able to dodge it. The bottle shatters, its contents spilling over the bystanding greenery. The liquid turns out to be acid, burning through the foliage and leaving a smoky trail. 

Well, fuck.

Zoro also seems to realize how serious this fight is. For the first time since you’ve reunited, he unsheathes Kuina’s sword, placing the hilt in his mouth.

You brandish your dagger as you yell, “Really? You bite it? What would Kuina say?” He sends you a look. You try not to laugh.

And in the next second, you charge at Cassiopeia together.

It’s difficult to get close enough to land a hit. The queen regent leads you in a dance of acids and poisons. You dodge one bottle only to be met with the toxic end of her blade. It seems that your mother’s dagger won’t be enough in this fight.

“I didn't get this far to be stopped by the likes of you!” Shrieking, she lunges at you.

“You will never be queen!” You roar back.

Behind her, your eyes spot Yoru leaning on the pedestal. The blade is large and intimidating, and you’re not entirely sure if you can wield it correctly… But you might not have a choice right now.

As you were distracted, Cassiopeia’s sword almost cuts through your side. Panicking, you stumble backwards. Zoro slashes at your enemy’s wrist. Her hold on the poisoned weapon falters. It plummets with a clang.

While she’s occupied with Zoro, you rush towards Yoru. From behind the bars, Mihawk watches, holding his breath as you wrap both hands around Yoru’s hilt—but the damn thing is too heavy. 

“Dear princess, you should have learned from your mother!” Cassiopeia smashes a bottle on Zoro’s head. “Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!”

The glass explodes into countless glittering shards. A red gas escapes into the air, and your knight inhales far too much of it.

He falls, and for that moment, the entire rest of the world vanishes until all you see is him. Your ears start to ring. His grip loosens on his swords. 

No. Please. Not him. Not anyone else. No more.

Mihawk calls your name. You turn to him, on the verge of breaking down. But then, he nods once, slowly. The action reminds you to breathe—filling you with an overwhelming sense of strength. You can do this.

Screaming, you attempt to brandish Yoru again. 

You swing the legendary greatsword in a perfect arc. Once it collides with the ground, the air ripples. Power surges through an invisible force headed straight for the queen regent. She tries to run, but the hit lands.

Her eyes don’t stray from yours as she collapses. In her final moments, she falls from grace, howling in agony and rage. 

As a last ditch attempt, she throws one last vial of acid at Zoro. You’re about to curse the world all over again as you run to stop it.

Mihawk throws a tiny sword like a dart, miraculously breaking the container before it lands on your knight. Your knees give out, and you pull Zoro into your arms as you gasp for air.

It’s done.

Zoro wakes up to the feeling of you checking his temperature. Your hand is warm against his forehead, making him want to reach up and hold it. He should probably wake up and check on you now.

“Oh.” He hears Mihawk speak, “I didn’t realize your relationship took a certain… turn.”

On second thought, another minute of sleep won’t hurt.

“Not you too, Mihawk.” You groan. “I get enough of that from Selma.”

“Ah, yes. I heard.” The swordsman deadpans, “Hand holding. How scandalous.”

“Alright, if you’re not going to be of any help whatsoever, please just go.”

“If you wanted time alone with him, you could have just said so.”

“Goodbye, Mihawk.”

Zoro hears you escort Mihawk out, and he takes the moment alone to open his eyes. He’s in his quarters, which is a few doors down from yours so that he can easily get to you. 

Not that he stays here often, Zoro prefers standing guard outside your chambers. It’s strange how he lasted years without seeing you, because now that you’re back in each other’s lives, he becomes restless whenever you’re not around. 

Like right now. What’s taking you so long?

The door opens. Zoro perks up, but deflates when he sees that it’s Selma bringing in a pitcher of water. 

“You could’ve at least hidden your disappointment better, Sir Zoro.” She huffs at him, taking full offense. “I’ll go get your princess.”

“Oh!” She yelps excitedly, “My bad, it’s queen anointed now, isn’t it?”

Zoro smiles, his voice raspy with sleep, “That has a nice ring to it.”

“Indeed, it does.” Selma nods, bidding him farewell. 

He doesn’t have to wait long to hear your rushing footsteps. The door opens again to reveal you, this time. Your eyes shine in that really pretty way they do when you’re happy. He’s glad that’s among the things that didn’t change.

Zoro opens his arms, inviting you, “Come here.”

Not needing to be told twice, you fall into his arms, burying your face in his chest.

“You’re okay.” You murmur.

“I wasn’t about to miss your coronation, Your Majesty.” Zoro pokes your nose. He did that a lot when you were kids, you forgot how much you liked it.

“Thank you for being okay.” Leaning down, you kiss his cheek softly.

Zoro brushes his fingers through your hair. He holds your face in his hands, tracing your features as if that will help him memorize the happiness he feels in his heart. The sort of happiness he thought was lost to him forever.

“Hey,” Zoro speaks your name with care. “I love you a lot, you know.”

He always envisioned confessing to you in some dramatic, elaborate way that you’d deserve. There could have been a beautiful sunset. He would’ve brought flowers.

But he was wrong. All he needs are the words themselves, and you—smiling the way you’re smiling at him now. 

You laugh, “I might love you more, I think.”

Zoro shakes his head, sitting up so that he can bring his face to yours properly. “Doubt it.”

The kiss tastes like magic, like you were always meant to find each other's lips. His heart starts doing something funny, and he has to pull you closer—hold you tighter. You respond eagerly, kissing him back so intoxicatingly that he’ll remember the softness of your lips for as long as he lives.

Later that week, your coronation is a grand and extravagant affair.

When Cassiopeia's misdeeds came to light, the people banded together to celebrate her downfall. Those loyal to her either surrendered or tried to escape. Although none of them were able to get away, since Zoro and Mihawk were ruthless towards those involved in the attempted mutiny.

The crown on your head will take some to get used to. It still feels like you're borrowing something of your mother's; but instead of shying away from it like you had before, you step into it openly. You're ready to become a successor worthy to carry on her legacy of kindness and strength.

Uncharted these waters may be, at least you have Zoro now, who would dive into any perilous sea right after you.

Escaping the celebratory banquet and the revelries, you visit Queen Florentia and Kuina's graves with Zoro. It's only right that you pay respects together.

You leave flowers on your mother's headstone, thanking her for everything she did. You're startled when Zoro takes one of his swords, holding it in front of him as he kneels in front of the previous queen.

“Your Majesty, Queen Florentia,” He speaks, his tone steady and sure. “I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to never leave your daughter’s side. I will protect her until I draw my last breath. I swear to cherish her, and to love her even in my next life.”

What is he doing, making you cry like this? It turns out that emotional boy you knew is still somewhere in there. Your heart feels full, knowing your mother would have appreciated the gesture.

As you're about to move on to Kuina's grave, Zoro motions for you to go ahead without him. You look at him strangely, but do as he says to give him some space. 

Mihawk emerges from the treeline when you've gone far enough.

“You look like you’re about to leave without saying goodbye.” Zoro remarks.

“Of course you’d know how that works, hm?” Mihawk challenges, raising a sharp brow. “Try even thinking about leaving and I’ll return to make sure it’s your last thought."

“Didn't you just hear the oath I made to the love of your life?” Zoro turns to Florentia's tombstone again. “Your Majesty, back me up here.”

“She would have approved of you.” Mihawk’s frown is unimpressed, but his gaze is unmistakably caring. 

“...Take care of her, Zoro.”

“Of course. I promise.”

As Mihawk walks away, Zoro asks him one last question, “How are your regrets now, old man?”

The former commander’s shoulders shake in a mixture of amusement and relief. “I suspect they'll heal, with time.”

When Zoro catches up to you at Kuina's grave, you're grinning at him. He can picture that same grin on Kuina's face if she were here. 

“We were just talking about you.” You jest, “All bad things, too.”

“You had nothing to talk about, then.” Zoro sits on the grass beside you. “I’m perfect for you.”

Appalled, you scoff and turn to Kuina's headstone. “Can you believe this guy?”

That day, you talked for hours, even after the sun had set. And on the trek back to the palace, a soft breeze caressed your skin. It felt like Kuina encouraging you, sending you off onto the next chapter of your lives.

Zoro becomes Captain of the Royal Guard once Mihawk leaves. He's teaching you about weapons and self defense when he picks up your dagger to inspect it, turning it this way and that curiously.

“Is there something wrong with it?” You ask, observing it too.

“This pattern and material.” Zoro says, tracing a certain swirl on the weapon. “I feel like I've seen it before.”

“Ah,” He says in realization, tracing a finger down your neck and making you shiver. “It’s the pattern on your necklace.”

“My mother must have had them made together.” You say, unclasping the chain before handing it to him.

There's a gap in the center of the pendant. Thin and barely noticeable, but it looks like it can be opened by something sharp.

“Do you mind if I,” Zoro gestures at the dagger.

“Just don't break it.” You say. “Treat it like my heart.”

Zoro makes a face that pulls a laugh out of you. “I would never do this to your heart.” Aw. You might have melted a little.

The tip of the blade slots perfectly into the pendant. After twisting it slowly like a key, the metal clicks to reveal: a locket.

Handing it over to you carefully, Zoro lets you open it the rest of the way. Inside, there are images drawn on two panels. You, as a child on one side… and Mihawk on the other. Now you understand why your mother treasured this so much. Tearing up, you sigh.

“You’re not surprised.” Zoro notes.

“...I think a part of me always knew.” You respond. “And, I definitely felt something when I held Yoru. No wonder why.”

Treading carefully, Zoro wraps his arms around your waist as he asks, “You’re not upset that he left?”

“But he didn’t. He’ll always be there for me, and so will you.” You smile up at him. “I’m happy I found my family again.”

Many years ago…

The grass on the meadow bristles gently in the wind. Dusk bathes the land in a dreamy, gold and purple hue. 

After a day filled with imaginary adventures, two children wave their dearest friend goodbye. The princess smiles at them fondly before returning to the castle.

Kuina grins, face eager as she points her training sword to the sky. “I’ll be her knight someday. I’ll be commander and everything.”

Zoro jolts, immediately expressing in protest, “No, I’ll be the one to protect her! I’ll be commander!”

“Oh yeah?” The girl’s smile turns knowing. She pokes Zoro’s waist with her sword. “How will you do that? Aren’t you going to marry her?”

Stunned, Zoro can only stare at her in response. A blush creeps up his neck, reddening the tips of his ears. Kuina seizes the opportunity to make a run for it.

“Princess, wait up! Zoro wants to tell you something!”

“Kuina! Get back here!”

read the companion piece / my notes / the timeline of this story (in mihawk's perspective) here : "the taste of ale"

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @ay0nha @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @murnsondock @starszns @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @commanderfreethatdust @onebatch--twobatch @rebeccawinters @gunslxtz @akakaze @lownna

[monimccoythings]

Like Father Like Daughter

I have so many WIPs from different fandoms and this Wolverine fic ideas just keep coming and coming... I appreciate so much the support I've been shown, I don't look at the notes because it shows in activity that is 99+ and I get anxious lol. Logan has a nasty temper but is really fun to write.

Living with an ill-tempered man like Logan wasn't always easy, but living with him and his variant's teenaged clone turned adopted daughter who had the exact same temper as him, was proving to be quite the challenge.

As anybody would expect, those two were constantly butting heads at everything, be it food, curfews, or, just as they were doing at this very moment, Laura's choices in fashion.

The girl had chosen some shorts and black leggings, with black sneakers, and a crop top that was way too short for an old fashioned man like Logan to approve, to hang out with some friends she had made at her new high school. Barely sparing a glance at her outfit, Logan had snapped at her to go back to her room and change into something more appropiate, which Laura took it as well as any teenage girl that had spent part of her earliest teen years dressing and doing what she pleased in the void would. And then the screaming match had begun.

"NO CHILD OF MINE IS GOING OUT DRESSED UP LIKE THAT."

"IT'S JUST A SHIRT, IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL."

You let out a quiet sigh. You knew daughters were supposed to rebel against their parents, but having two superpowered beings at each other's throats at all times wasn't the great idea the universe thought it was. You knew they loved each other deeply and would kill for each other, but sometimes they were way too much alike.

"Sweetie, listen to Daddy on this one, he just wants what's best for you."

How the fuck had Wade gotten in and embraced your husband's muscular arm without anyone noticing. With a low growl, Logan pushed him away. Laura did not seem too pleased with him either.

"FUCK OFF, YOU AREN'T MY MOM!"

Wade covered his mouth and let out a shocked gasp that honestly was worthy of an Oscar nomination. You quietly thanked him for his presence, maybe that would help relieve the tension in the room. Laura turned at you, imploringly.

"Tell him he's just overreacting. Please."

You sneakily looked at your husband, who seemed to be red with rage, his lips pulled back in a feral snarl that clearly was a display of dominance, knuckles pressed against the wooden table so tightly that you started to fear for the well being of the furniture. His muscles were so tense he looked like he was going to burst out of his shirt, by the way the veins in his neck were swelling.

You didn't want to disrespect his authority over his daughter, but you also didn't want to make Laura direct her hate at you; you loved that girl and her attitude as if she was your own child. It seemed they needed some consesus, and you guessed you'd have to be once again the bigger person here.

"Laura, your father is just worried about you. If you want to wear that top, then you'd have to put a jacket on. And we want you back home by eleven."

"But my friends-" She started to protest, but you quickly cut her off.

"Eleven and that's more than your father was willing to give you."

She bit her lip, considering her options. With a huff, she stomped back towards her room to get that jacket. She slammed the front door on the way back out, not even bothering to say goodbye. Teenagers.

The living room got quiet. Really quiet. You could only hear Wade munching on some popcorn he had gotten from God knows where. Logan was fuming, not at you of course, but at his unruly adoptive daughter's behavior. He stormed towards your shared bedroom and slammed the door close hard enough, it made the pictures on the wall tremble. You sighed.

Well that went well.

It wasn't until half an hour later that he cooled off and decided to come out. You were cleaning up some dishes while Wade sat on the couch watching some cartoons. It made you smile, it was like you had two children running around.

You felt your husband's stubble and nose nuzzle against the back of your neck, as he embraced you from behind, his massive hands covering the entire expanse of your fourth month pregnant belly. "Feeling better now?" You casually asked.

His teeth nipped at the skin on your neck leaving a burning feeling that only his tongue could soothe. "I don't know what to do with her, she seems to fight against everything I do or say." His deep rumbling voice sent shivers running down your spine.

"Deep down she knows you love her. And she loves you too, even if she is too 'cool' to admit it." He let out a bitter chuckle, massaging your belly while leaning his chin on your shoulder, his sideburns made you tickle.

"I just hope this little one doesn't give us that much trouble."

"Hey, however they come out, we will love them the same, because they are a part of our family." He kissed your cheek and you leaned back into his embrace.

"Yes, our family." You let out a laugh at the sudden extra weight on your backs. Looks like Wade had gotten tired of the tv and had decided to join you into your little embrace.

"Wade..." Logan started warningly, carefully prying his hands away from your belly.

*SNIKT*

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 10: CHEERS

The finale!

Pawn Swan! This was another character who first appeared in Steve Wolfhard's post-finale loredump about the 1000+ world. I never expected to actually see him in the show.

Nuts how this is like the third time we've seen Simon's ass. I love how Shermy is just chilling and playing video games while GOLB lets this random old man take a turn at the wheel.

This establishing shot of Fionnaworld shows that it's very small. By the time it is restored at the end of the episode, this ominous white border is gone and there are more buildings, implying that it became a complete world.

I can't believe Gary was thirsting after Scarab in this situation.

There is a shop called Evergree Flowers; likely a reference to the episode Evergreen.

This shop window advertises that you can learn to kick bugs. Appropriately enough, Cake kicks Scarab through this shop window while in her Godzilla form.

The Betty statue has become GOLBetty.

It should be clear by this point that Casper and Nova are a parallel to Simon and Betty, with all of their decisions being made by Casper with little consideration for Nova due to their unbalanced power dynamic. This is why Simon realises that he should have been more considerate of Betty's dreams, rather than single-mindedly chasing the Enchiridion and the crown.

The credits confirm that genderswapped Ash is named Ashley. I wonder what happened to her after she fell into the void. Probably nothing good.

Poor Marshall never gets to finish his songs. Truly he is the genderswapped Marceline.

The name "GOLBetty" is now canon; Simon uses it in this scene.

I'm not sure what's happening to GOLBetty here. A loose thread to pick up if this story ever gets a continuation, perhaps.

Simon steps through several different universes, including all the ones we saw during this miniseries. I'm not sure what this world full of tiny bears is meant to be.

Some kind of industrial capitalist hell universe.

This is the Water Park Prank artstyle, implying that Water Park Prank takes place in a separate but canon universe. So Water Park Prank is now canonically canonical! (what a ridiculous phrase)

Some kind of Jake universe.

A universe featuring Magwood and his volcano lair, from the episode Evergreen.

The snail! It's not dead after all. And it's a great way of symbolising a return to regular Ooo, as is the reappearance of the smiley butterfly.

This was a strange selection of characters. I hope Jay hasn't left his younger siblings on their own if their dad is dead. At least baby Finn won't have to grow up in Vampworld, though part of me liked imagining what that would have been like.

Fionna mentions that his is her top fantasy. The other two of her top three fantasies were Cake being able to talk and a kingdom made of candy.

She gets a hammer, like she had in the dream sequence at the very beginning of the miniseries.

Kheirosiphon goes back to working in a teashop, just like he did on The Drift before he was imprisoned by Scarab. Also Marshall's outfit here is incredibly gay, it's great.

There is an ad here for a daddy issues themed comedy night. Sounds like Marceline's kind of place.

Prismo's face glitches for a second. Ominous.

Simon definitely needs to move out. This is probably an even more important realisation than coming to understand his influence over Betty.

In the credits of this episode, Simon is finally at peace.

And with that, the miniseries is over! Back to the long wait. Will this be it for Adventure Time? Or is there yet more to come...

[1980shorrorfilm]

sour times

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

btw to the requests in my inbox; i see u. i hear u. 🙏

pairing…jackson!abby x gn!reader x ellie

in which…you confront your not-so-great relationship with abby after she had stolen your best friend from you.

before you read…angst *sigh.* brief sexual content (for the plot!! no smut) you’re kinda mean here but i forgive you. 🫶

“do you like her?” “i don’t…i don’t know…i think so.”

her perfect blonde braid taunts you. you believe this is what hell is, following the lead of abigail anderson while the biting wind howls around you, snowflakes hitting your tender skin. 

the landscape is a winter wonderland, but you can’t seem to enjoy it in this state. perhaps if you were in the comfort of your bedroom, hot chocolate in your hand, and ellie williams by your side, you’d be in heaven. but that’s not even achievable these days. her time is spent with abby, the two in the woman’s garage, doing whatever when you’re not around, and you never are. 

it’s torturous to be the third. you had ellie first, your first real friend in the small town. you weren’t hers, cat had that blessing. but regardless, it appeared no one could even crack the bond you two had. and then she came along.

strolling into jackson like a puppy with eyes that resembled a stormy sea, her long hair adorned in a neat fishtail braid. she was sweet, but not in the naive way. she stood her ground when challenged, she showed her strength when needed, and she proved just how valuable she was to your community.

she also had a face you could admire for days, like some goddess one would worship many lifetimes ago. tan freckles scatter across her nose like lilies in a field, compared to ellie’s that are like stars in a busy midnight sky. they make their way down to her chest, sprinkled on her shoulders, and dancing over her biceps— her fucking biceps. god. abby was just fucking perfect. it aggravates you.

maybe that’s why ellie took a liking to her so rapidly. you get it— you hate it. and last night, you couldn’t help but ask your friend about their relationship, asking the auburn-haired woman if it was a crush. such a silly word, you had thought as it left your mouth. ellie even laughed quietly at it, avoiding an answer. then, you had asked again, ‘do you like her?’ 

and ellie had answered after hesitation, ‘i think so.’

i think so. jealousy coursed through your veins at the simple and uncertain answer; but you cannot pinpoint why, exactly. you never thought you liked ellie in that way. there was no doubt she was attractive, ellie happens to own that word, but your friendship was simply that. 

a friendship. no delving into romantic territory besides some lingering touches and a bit too deep all-nighters. there was nothing that made you yearn for her, when you already had her in such proximity to you, at your very fingertips. abby did a good job fucking that up, though. 

so you sat there, like a void was sucking you up at her answer. the idea of them…being a thing…sent chills down your spine. a nightmare possibly becoming a reality, if the feelings are mutual. and that scares you even more, abby finding herself enamored by ellie. somehow spending even more time with her than she already does. spending nights and mornings in her bed. it was all wrong. 

something that has yet to happen, already terrorizing you. it just can’t happen.

abby slows down her horse to walk beside you rather than in front of you, “you’re quiet…something wrong?”

you meet her eyes, legitimate concern within them. you were never the most talkative with her, but abby isn’t stupid and the tension in the air is almost as painful as the harsh weather you’re enduring. she wonders if she’s the cause of it. 

did she forget to wish you a good morning at the stables, something she did every single patrol? give you the wrong impression when she stared at you, utterly captivated by you? make you feel weak when she pulled an infected off of you, hands wandering your body making sure you were okay?

you answer her bluntly, “no.”

she tries again, “you can tell me if i did something…”

“you didn’t,” you insist, and surprisingly, it’s only a half lie. it’s the conversation with ellie that’s hanging over you like a dark cloud, and abby happens to be the focal point of it. 

abby seems to accept your response, for now, and tears her eyes off you. the wind has managed to pick up, and the horses are growing slower as they trudge through the snow. 

“that house up there,” abby motions with her head, a red house amongst the beige ones that surround it, “let’s hold up there.”

a stubborn part of you wants to tell her that she can wait there, and you will continue home. but you’re not a moron, and you don’t exactly feel like dying today, as much as ellie tempted you with the morbid idea. you’re freezing and crave shelter, even if that means being stuck another hour or so with abby. 

you follow abby to the home, waiting on your horse as she hops off hers, lifting the garage door for you to enter. when you do, there’s immediate relief in your body, abby behind you whispering sweet words to her horse, stroking the golden fur as she does so. it’s, unfortunately, cute. you keep your smile to yourself, patting your own horse when you get off her, then reaching for your gun before entering the home. 

“wait.” you pause and look back at abby, who walks in front of you, taking the lead yet again. an innocent yet condescending action that irks you deeply, watching the woman quietly slip past the wooden door, scanning the area for any sort of threat. 

you’re not as quiet when you follow behind her, stepping on some wrapper that crackles beneath your shoe, abby eyeing you like you spit on her. you brush it off, “i’ll check upstairs.”

“i’ll go with you.” “jesus— i don’t want you to.”

your sharp tongue takes her back, but there’s no anger in her eyes, it’s that same concern from moments ago. it makes you feel bad, but instead of apologizing, you leave her there, going upstairs like you said you would.

the old stairs creak with each quick step that you take, you forget the purpose of you coming up here. you just wanted to get away from her. that’s the reason why you’re immediately against a wall, snarling in your ear from a rotten corpse trying to bite it off. 

you resist, holding it at an arm's length away with one hand, the other reaching in your pocket for your pocket knife. your hands are cold and shaky, dropping it the moment you pull it out, when the splatter of blood meets your face. the thing is dead, falling before you, eyes meeting hers.

“a-are you—” “i’m fine,” you say coldly, bumping your shoulder with hers when you take a step forward and continue on. abby is really fucking confused, remaining frozen in the hall, staring at the dead infected at her feet. her eyes trail to your pocket knife, then back to you. 

you push open bedroom doors as you pass them, hardly searching them for any more infected. you assume if they wanted to, they’d attack you right then and there, and maybe if you’re lucky, a blonde knight in shining armor will save you. she had an annoying habit of doing so. 

“hey,” abby jogs toward you, trapping you in a doorway, “dropped this.”

the metal glimmers in her hands, and you’re quick to take your beauty of a weapon from her. oddly, you’re protective of the inanimate object, a thoughtful gift from ellie herself. the handle is a dulled shade of your favorite color, and the blade is a bit rusted, but that doesn’t bother you. “thanks,” you mumble, waiting for her to move. she doesn’t.

“wanna tell me why you’re acting like this?” “like what?”

“like that.” “what’s that?”

abby blinks at you, and you remain unfazed. you can tell her calm demeanor is deteriorating before you, patience running thin. “what did i do to you?” she asks, “since i showed up in jackson…it’s like you hate me.”

ouch. the words sting you more than her, and you cannot blame her for believing in such a thing. what have you done to show her otherwise?

held back smiles when she made kind remarks, generous gestures, and stupid jokes? left her out of conversations, not daring to spare eye contact when it was you, her, and ellie, sitting together? made weak small talk that made her feel like nothing but an acquaintance in town, when she just wanted more? 

you sigh, “i don’t…hate you.”

“you make that really hard to believe,” abby replies, crossing her arms. this close, you examine how the tip of her nose and cheeks are a hue of red from the bitter weather. it almost matches her lips…her lips. you’re watching her lips. you catch yourself, and whatever this is, pushing her away. you swallow the dusty air, fast steps taking you right back downstairs. 

of course, abby is on your trail. “you know we’re stuck here, right?” 

like a flip had been switched, you’re once again snappy with her, “no shit.”

“you confuse me, you know that?”

you pretend to ignore her words, focusing on the fireplace in the living room. there are enough logs to last as you wait out the blizzard, so you tug your backpack off and drop it on the distressed coffee table. you search for your matches, that are always in the first pocket in your bag, but they’re not there. 

you’re trying to remember when you took them out, or if they fucking ran away on their own. it doesn’t matter— abby is already ahead of you, and an orange glow suddenly illuminated the dim room. you turn your head, seeing the obnoxious sly grin on her face. “you’re welcome.”

you don’t thank her. you sit on the worn-out floral sofa a few feet away, eyes boring into the flames that are quick to warm you. “do you want a blanket?” abby offers, which you shake your head at. “you hungry?” again, you respond a ‘no,’ with your head. 

the problem with abby is that she’s genuine. she cares about you even if you have not shown the same worry toward her. and maybe that speaks for you more than abby. 

you don’t notice her reaching in her bag, pulling out some crumpled up gauze, until she sits beside you and reaches for your face. you move away when you feel her touch, furrowing your brows at her. “wanna be stubborn and keep that blood on your pretty face?”

your cool cheeks heat up, hardened appearance softening just slightly, then allowing her to wipe the nasty fluid off. she’s soft as she does so, taking her time, and the opportunity to adore your features at such close proximity. you’d probably give her a scowl if you realized so.

“is it her?”

“what?” “ellie. did she piss you off?”

abby is too observant for your own good. there’s only one…two people in jackson that can invoke such strong emotions from you, even if you hide them poorly. “no…”

“you kinda suck at this lying thing,” abby calls you out, large hand on your cheek, turning it so she can clean up any remaining blood on the other side of your face. “if she did, i could kick her ass.”

the somewhat joke leaves you with a puzzled expression. and then you laugh. “yeah, okay,” your tone is nothing but sarcastic, “like you’d ever take my side over hers.”

“what do you mean?” 

you bite your lip, tearing your eyes off her and into the burning wood. it’s not a loaded question, but it’s a loaded answer. to explain to her that ellie is her priority, as abby is hers, and you’re just there. someone that was kicked to the curb, left for envy to grow on you like poison ivy. 

you keep it short, “you guys are close.”

“well, yeah, we’re friends.” for now, you think, a humorless chuckle quietly escaping your lips. abby catches it, opens her mouth, and immediately shuts it. she finally lets go of your face, tossing the crimson coated gauze on the floor, her pupils still trained on you. the loss of her touch almost bothers you. then she speaks again.

“do you…do you think i like her or something? because we aren’t…anything.”

seconds pass in silence as you debate the question dancing on your tongue, curious if it’s overstepping but more intrigued about the answer. even if it will hurt to hear, you simply need to know. “do you want to be?”

“no, of course not.”

guilt ruins through your veins at the relief that settles in your body, knowing poor ellie would frown at the unrequited feelings. but there’s something else that gives you hope…why the fuck do you have hope? you gulp, “okay.”

“do you like her?” “what?!” “is that what this is about?”

“no— no it’s not, it’s not that.” “then what is it?”

you, honestly, cannot give her a proper response. this isn’t about some stupid nonexistent crush on your friend, yet that would make the most sense for whatever these feelings of resentment are. 

you’re quiet as you try to think of something, and it doesn’t help that her blue-grey eyes are zoning into you, as if she’s trying to peel the complicated layers off of you. she’s trying to understand, she really is, and it painfully makes your heart swell. you truly do get ellie. 

your façade of disinterest is chipping away like the paint on these very walls, her gaze on you making you want to break— to give in —and the moment your eyes fall to her pink lips, you do exactly that. 

you close the space between you two, nearly crawling on the couch and in her lap when you gently grab the sides of her face, kissing her before you even realize that you’re kissing her. it was an urge you couldn’t simply couldn’t resist. and abby welcomes it.

she moves in sync, pushing her lips against yours deeper, surprised when you pull away. the moment hits you at once; you and abby. abby and you. it has your eyes widened and lips parted, searching for something to say. sorry? no…that doesn’t feel right. you’re not sorry. and abby doesn’t want you to apologize, she needs you to keep going.

as if you both read the others mind, you lean into each other, connecting your lips once more.

you think of ellie, what she had told you with such vulnerability, and then you think of abby. abby, who had a intense desire to taste you, and was making that evidently clear. the aftermath of whatever this is, will be dealt with when that time comes.

you swallow the guilt when your tongue mixes with hers, abby tugging you on top of her, gripping your shirt like her life depends on it. her eagerness sends shivers down your spine, more intense than the horrid weather outside ever could to you. 

it feels too good to stop, she feels too good. abby is unbuttoning her jacket, while you’re tugging yours off, the kiss suddenly messy as you’re both failing to multitask. you giggle against her lips when you both manage to do so, her callous hand cradling the back of your neck to draw you closer. if that were possible.

you deepen the kiss, your hands slipping beneath the knit long sleeve shirt she wears. you explore the abs you’ve only ever seen through tight shirts that had you in a daze, not that you would’ve ever admit that to her, though. she attempts to say your name against your lips, her voice weak and breathy.

you pull away and tilt her chin up with your fingers, trailing your lips down her jaw, to the side of her neck. the world outside vanishes as abby loses herself in the sensation of your lips on her neck, sweet kisses that shift to gentle bites.

it’s the tender spots that you suck, that earn hushed whimpers from her. and you make sure to do it over, over, and over again. like a damn vampire, sinking your teeth into her, and marking your territory, when she’s not even yours.

and then you stop, noticing the room was dark. the fire had gone out. “we should— uh,” you climb off of her, the woman catching the breath she seemed to hold still the entire time. 

“yeah…” she agrees, chest rising, licking her lips. 

the wind has calmed down by now, a tolerable ride home that’s extremely quiet, besides the occasional gust of wind. except it’s not awkward the way it was hours prior. you’re exchanging short glances at the other, small smiles when your eyes would meet. 

you make it back to jackson safely, both of you dropping off the horses at the stables, making small talk as you walk home. you’re not talking about what just happened inside that red house, both of you are too shy to bring it up, to ask if that meant anything to the other. 

it truthfully drifts from your mind as abby is explaining a childhood story, until your eyes fall on her. ellie, heading in your direction, toward you two. 

it’s when she gets closer, that her pupils fall to abby’s neck; the pale skin decorated with purple marks, caused by you. she had been so worried about you two, and now, she feels dumb. and hurt.

especially when you just give her a tight-lipped smile, knowing exactly what you have done. and more importantly, that you wanted her to see it.

[arolesbianism]

I wanna draw oni characters with designs based off of abnormalities from lob corp but 1 motivation and 2 I wanna make Olivia plague doctor soooo bad because the idea makes me go crazy especially with making a white knight printing pod design too but it's the latter bit that would be hard as hell and then I'd also have to make Jackie one sin like legally and I don't wanna do that both design wise and character wise because one sin is my bestie