#but personally i preferred the vaguness of their relationship lol

[agnimybeloved]

on the topic of bubbline i absolutely loved obsidian but my one issue with it was like. i personally felt that the way they presented marceline’s character arc was “punk ideology/identity is immature and toxic and giving up punk is a sign of becoming mature and healthy”. which isn’t true of punk first of all, but i also think that punk style and ideology is so critical to her character beyond just channeling her angst and anger and trauma, and i think it majorly takes away from her character to have her “grow out of it”. i think they could have presented it as marceline realizing that she wasn’t being punk so much as being emotionally stunted and repressed and giving it up after realizing she’s never been truly dedicated to the punk lifestyle (which i don’t think is true of her character, but wouldn’t slander punk ideology), or better yet having her realize that punk is more than her negative behaviors and associations with it and learning to embrace and emphasize the aspects of love and community within punk over the angst and edginess. dunno.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Outdrawn

f/f contemporary romance

two cartoonist who’ve been rivals since uni, and now have competing webcomics online, have to work together on the relaunch of a cult classic at the comic press they both work at

they both struggle with art-related physical and mental health issues, and complicated families

[piningpercussionist]

transfem scott getting lots of support from ramona and kim in the early 2000's when shit's very taboo but they all 3 have a fire forged bond and lord if they aren't going to make sure they're all as happy as they can be because they've come this far and I dunno it just makes me happy all three of them

YES YES YES

It makes me very happy as well,,

Like I've said before. General Trans Scott enthusiast here- I love the idea of their little support network *violent coughing* I (we?) mean polycule *violent coughing* so fucking much.

Ramona I think has a bit of a more gentle hand with reassuring Scott with gender issues, but sometimes she just can't help herself from some pointed banter or teasing- how could you with someone so dense? (Said w affection)

And then Kim I think is more blunt. But like, in a good way mostly, you know? The kinda blunt that makes you snap to attention and go "Oh. Yeah that was silly of me." And if Ramona's started some sort of banter? Kim is SO piling on. Maybe sometimes she's a bit TOO blunt with it- but it's only because she's so firm in her support. She wants Scott to Get It Together- and be happier for it. So if some ribbing now and again is in order, then goddamnit she will do so! Anything to crack that shell.

And ohhh can you imagine how they would react to some transphobic bullshit?? Unholy terror would be driven into the offender before they walk off with an absurd amount of coins between them. I can feel it in my bones. Scott doesn't even have to lift a finger (if the transphobe is even noticed/processed at all, bc I honestly can see Scott just. Not realizing someone's being transphobic.) Kim giving someone a lashing with her tongue as distraction and then Ramona coming in with the hammer- BAM! Free Money! Paying literally with your life for your transphobia. A Better And Just World.

And of course (transfem Scott more specifically, here,) the way Scott would start to flourish under their support... cagey and maybe a little (perhaps a lot-) resistant to start- but Kim's blunt affirmations and no nonsense attitude for bullshit (which is what Scott insisting on "being cis" would be, c'mon now,) and Ramona's also low bullshit tolerance but less Stabby (bc I won't lie, that's probably how Kim's comments would feel,) assurances? Ough... My Heart... Be Still-

I would Kill for them, Your Honor-

(Ran out of tags so putting this in the body of the post- I am SO tired someone pls sound off if this isn't as coherent as I am hoping this is. I WAS trying to nap and get the extra sleep I desperately needed but the writing bug... it Bit Me.... only a little but enough to stop that process-)

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 32

Make Your Bets Now!

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 12,614 😳😳

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: A Forest ~ The Cure | Burn Your Village ~ Kiki Rockwell

Summary: The White Stag is chased through the woods. The hunters begin to show their true colors, while the prey just tries to survive. You might not be the only one running away.

Recap: The banquet is underway, and you were dressed as the White Stag. You met your nine suitors, some of whom came as a shock. You gave each hunter an arrow, a symbol of their right to claim you. Uncle Cedrick just gave you a ten minute head start.

Author's Note: Hi!!! Thank you so much for your patience while I've been dealing with all the things! I've still been writing, as you can tell by the word count! 😬 Lol, I did a poll way back when Shanks first arrived asking if y'all would prefer two regular size chapters with no smut in one, or one giant chapter with the smut. So here ya go, lol, you asked for it! 😅🤭

Content Warning: There's not much dark content to warn for this chapter (besides the usual Numbers Game shenanigans & Buggy's POV on the Dr. Vorsan visit), but I wanted to give a heads up that there is a flashback of the 14 year old reader having a crush on an adult. Nothing occurs, but there is some very mild creepiness that could be interpreted as inappropriate. I WILL NEVER write about minors in that way, so please know that this is just a teenage crush! In case you would like to skip that, I'll bracket it with these ~~~⚫~~~

Fic Updates & Questions:

I will be retroactively adding titles to all chapters. I prefer to have titles for every chapter of a fic, but decided not to add them when I thought this was going to be a one shot 🤦🏼‍♀️ (We're getting closer to the end, and outlining will be way easier if I can remember which chapter things happened in, lol.) I'm going with quotes/lines from the chapters for the title theme. Also, I only used "part" instead of "chapter" on tumblr for formatting space, but I always call them chapters so 🤷‍♀️

Since this is a reader insert fic (that I thought would be a one shot 😅), I've tried to keep as many personal details as vague as possible so that we can all hop onto that lovely, green couch. I'm not planning to state the reader's age within the fic, but as we get further into the story, some of you numbers girl's may be able to figure out the math based on the flashbacks and such. I have a whole ass timeline graphed out, so if anyone is interested in knowing the specific ages and dates of related OP canon and Numbers Game canon, I'd be down to make a separate post just for that.

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc. As we get further into Egghead Arc, there will be some spoilers (mainly from manga cover stories or SBS questions for minor characters' motivations, such as what the Vinsmoke's and Charlotte's have been up to since Wano, and why they'd want to marry our lovely heiress.)

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Toxic Family, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Pain Kink, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Blowjobs, Threats, Relationship Drama, Anal, Doctors, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“I told you to run.”

Uncle Cedrick wet his lips after he hissed at you again, smirking while you transformed for him, and for his silent hunters and cheering guests. 

The white stag. The hunted. The prey. 

You’d never felt less human than you did right now, and the sense of danger in the air sent you racing toward the trees. 

It was disorienting to move in this fumbling body. Some foul magic must have stolen your hooves, your graceful limbs, your fur to fend off the cool breeze of the night. 

All you had left were your antlers, but they couldn’t help you flee. You escaped your heels, kicking free from the tight shoes as though they were traps meant to hold you still for the hunters to find. The dress made you panic, the weight of it wearing you down like trash left to suffocate creatures too helpless to free themselves from human garbage. You tried to lift the heavy skirts while you ran, but the train dragged behind you, catching on roots and branches as you fled. 

Logic started to break through the adrenaline in bits and pieces, but the forest had pulled you into a dream.

“This isn’t a dream,” you panted to yourself, slowing down to lean against a tree. 

That wild panic had left you with no idea how long you’d been running, but your heart was trying to escape from your body, and your lungs struggled to catch up as you let yourself stop. 

That should be enough drama for Uncle’s show. Why should I care who catches me first? I have to date all of them anyway. 

And the fear was back. 

Nine men were about to stalk you through the woods at night, and you’d just run deeper into the darkness, like a fucking idiot.

Though you doubted that staying closer to the courtyard would have made you any safer. All of those leeches were here to watch the show. They’d probably already placed bets on which hunter would get his greedy hands on you first.

Don’t cry. 

You almost did. Every time you thought you could accept your fate, Uncle Cedrick found ways to make it more torturous, more humiliating. 

Apathy tried to protect you, a welcome friend that lulled your emotions to sleep until you stared into nothing, your logical mind reciting your thoughts on a loop to distract from what you were putting away.

I already gave the leeches a good show. It doesn’t matter who catches me first. 

Useless rage replaced your apathy in a flash at the memory of the traitor touching your skin. Shanks was the last man you wanted to catch you, but Uncle’s threats felt like hidden traps, like suffocating trash, like this stupid dress that snagged on every branch. 

I won’t give them anything else to hurt me with. 

Crashes and yells entered the forest like a storm, and you were the white stag again.

You ran. 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Shanks had only been gone for a day, but the clown found himself aching for him in a way he hadn’t in years. 

Letting Shanks back in had opened the door to all this shit he’d tried to stuff away, but he didn’t have room for all of these feelings right now. Not when his star was slurring her words, her voice high and distant while she tried to convince this fucking doctor that all their time together had meant nothing.

“It was all pretend. I was bored. I know it was risky behavior, I s-see that nn…”

“I’m glad you’re expressing that awareness, Y/N,” Dr. Vorsan’s voice bore down even through her frantic heartbeat, “but you still haven’t talked about the clown. It’s important that we understand our triggers so that we can prevent future episodes.”

She’s not breathing!

“You don’t want to have any more episodes, do you, Y/N?”

“No,” she agreed, though Buggy barely heard her over her now ragged breath. 

“Good. Part of staying well means cooperating with your treatment,” the slimeball purred. “Why did you go with the clown?”

“He was sweet. And funny... I liked him.”

Buggy looked to the ceiling, unknowable emotions pulling his face into a grimace. 

“You just told me that it was all pretend. That you were bored.”

“I, yes…”

“Clarity, Y/N,” the pompous creep scolded. “We can’t make changes if we don’t acknowledge our patterns. Why did you go with the clown?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Buggy growled.

The next words he heard had to be from her lips, but it sounded wrong, as though she’d been possessed by the concept of emptiness itself. His star was hollow. 

Gone. 

“I used him. I wanted to run. I’m selfish.”

No, baby, don’t say that.

The fucker didn’t say anything for too long. He couldn’t hear any rustling, only his empty star, breathing just enough to keep her alive. 

“Your family was very worried for you. That extreme, self destructive behavior—“

“I know,” Y/N snapped, then Buggy heard the sound of skin against skin, as though she’d slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m s-s-sorry, doctor, I…”

“It’s quite, alright, Y/N,” the man fucking chuckled. “You’ve just experienced an episode that must have caused some additional trauma, but you’re safe now.”

Buggy hadn’t taken notes, and he looked down to find a shredded notepad on his lap, his shaky hands clenching into the paper. 

“Do you want to be safe?”

“Yes, doctor,” Y/N stated, the gravity of a black hole in her voice. 

“Was it safe to run away with pirates?”

What the fuck is he doing to her? 

“No.”

“Good. Now, tell me about the clown.”

Circles and circles of this talk spun through Buggy’s mind, and it seemed like nothing was said, yet he could hear his star break a little more with every word. 

“I’ll rip his tongue out, baby. Make him eat it for you. Don’t listen to him.”

“Excellent work today. Self reflection is difficult, but it’s the only way to heal.”

“Thank… Thank you, doctor.”

“There’s no need to thank me. You have the power to stay well all on your own, as long as you put in the work to take care of yourself. Just try to remember the kind of life you wish to have. You don’t want to lose yourself in another episode, do you, Y/N?”

“No, doctor.”

The clown laid in silence for hours while his broken lover did the same. Somehow Y/N built herself up again, preparing to head to dinner with her sister, and her voice was almost as clear as it had been before the session. 

She keeps all of this inside… I didn’t even—

“Come on, little clown. Don’t eat dinner on the floor again.”

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

The Emperor of the Sea followed an usher to his seat, feeling high as he twirled the decorative arrow in his fingers. He was lucky to have made it in time, and luckier still that Y/N had looked at him like that. Shanks was sure that it wasn’t really lust in those magnetic eyes of hers. Buggy’s fallen star was difficult to read, but it had to be a message. An opening. 

I’ll get you out of here, Y/N. 

Even Benn’s smirking face couldn’t diminish the flames she’d warmed in him, his first mate pulling his seat out while he approached. The last few tables at the edge of the courtyard seemed filled with guests that were either late or large, the nearest competitor being the two story tall Prince Fukaboshi. 

Before Shanks could greet his rival, Sylvad’s voice carried through the night air, testing the Emperor’s ability to fake a smile. 

“Thank you all for joining our family as we celebrate the hunt for a new member! I am honored to help strengthen the Sylvad legacy by making sure that my enchanting niece finds the most loving, and of course, the most profitable match,” he admitted with a smug laugh. “Just as this marks the beginning of a new era for our family, I’m sure that most of you have sensed the shift in the waters.”

Cedrick paused for effect with Y/N posed like some pretty doll at his side while his guests murmured in agreement.

“For generations, the Sylvad’s have stood in enthusiastic support of the Marines. Although I still pay them an exorbitant amount to show up when I call, their many recent failures, and acts of overreaching, have shown them to be nothing more than expensive, and exceedingly annoying guard dogs.”

The laughter he drew was mixed, both nervous and pleased, and Shanks was sure he wasn’t the only one to catch the threat in those playful words. 

“The world is changing, and I intend to keep my family strong, even if we have to shoo the seagulls away,” he vowed with enough humor to keep the mood light. “But enough about all that, we’re here to enjoy ourselves. Let’s welcome in the New Era together with a good old fashioned hunt!”

Confusion was clouded by the applause Cedrick had demanded with his gestures and tone after he offered Y/N a hand. Watching that man touch her had Shanks’ jaw clenching, holding himself back while she truly looked like prey under his smirking grin.

“I think our white stag is feeling a bit skittish, but that's nothing a little chase can't fix. The first hunter to catch her claims the first date!”

Shanks watched in horror as Cedrick led his niece to the edge of the courtyard, speaking to her too softly to hear before she ran toward the trees, stumbling in that fucking costume he’d stuffed her into. 

Benn nudged his ankle, stopping Shanks from finishing his movement. Gryphon was on the ship anyway, and he wasn’t sure what use his sword would do other than to comfort his helpless soul.

I’m a villain now. Maybe I should just kill everyone here. 

He chugged the glass of wine in front of him, as though swallowing the liquor could help him swallow the layers of guilt that made no sense to him.

The bright light of that wounded star disappeared into the trees, but there was no reprieve. A large, white canvas was rolled out over the side of the manor walls while servants pushed a massive transponder snail on a wheeled cart up the path. The courtyard was silent until the snail’s eyes flickered, its mouth open as sounds of heavy breathing and snapping twigs came through before the live feed was projected. 

Two images appeared on that blank wall, bringing gasps and applause from the guests while Sylvad preened.

“In ten minutes,” he announced, doing a flourish as a timer popped up on the frantic screen, “the hunt for the white stag begins. The man that touches her first wins the hunt, and will earn the first private date tomorrow evening, as well as the pleasure of dining with the lovely doe tonight.”

The lovely doe in question was panting as she kicked off her heels, running barefoot through the woods. On the left was a jostled scene of darkness and trees, but as she looked down to lift her skirts, it was clear that a cam snail must be on her head, maybe hidden in those antlers. The second image continued to flip, showing her running and struggling through the brush from endless angles. 

Does he have a surveillance snail on every fucking tree on this island?

“What a strange courtship custom,” Prince Fukaboshi noted quietly, although his size let the words carry enough for Shanks to let out a sharp laugh, smiling up at the merman to cover his anger before Sylvad continued.

“You may woo my niece however you like, so long as it doesn’t cause her unsalvageable harm, or remove her from this island. I won’t have my vacation home turned into a war zone, so do watch your violence. I know that some of you have had disagreements in the past, but let’s keep the fighting to a minimum unless it’s part of a game, alright lads? We wouldn’t want to spoil the fun for everyone.”

Leeches…

Servants came around to all the tables to take bets from the guests while the courtyard followed the white stag’s every, panicked step. 

Hawk was right, this security is something else.

“This isn’t a dream.”

“Aww, isn’t she a darling,” a diamond-studded, older woman crooned, inspiring more guests to make noises about how precious she looked while she caught her breath, eyes blank as she leaned against a tree. 

“You’re gonna catch that little bunny, aren’t ya, Captain?”

Shanks let out a breath, finally breathing, when he met his first mate’s gaze. Benn was steady, the curve of his lips and shine of his eyes hiding the intensity from those that didn’t know him, but his captain recognized the look. 

It’s time to get serious.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

Easy silence wrapped around the three men during dinner, interspersed with deep, hushed voices, and the scratching of Buggy’s pen while he doodled. He couldn’t help but feel thankful for the less noteworthy hours that had passed since his star had met with the doctor. 

“Zala checked in,” Crocodile reported between bites. “Guess she wasn’t suited to the restaurant business after all.”

“That’s Miss Doublefinger, yes?”

“Not anymore,” he sighed at Mihawk’s question. “Zala used to work well with Daz Bonez, and she’s investigating Dr. Vorsan. Refused to help without bringing Marianne along though… Ms. Goldenweek.”

“The child,” Mihawk questioned, giving a gentle tilt to his head. His lover seemed to get touchy when his old organization was brought up. 

“She’s eighteen now,” came the curt answer, although the larger man almost smiled at those damn, golden eyes. 

“Uncle ChodeTick’s talking to her, taking a walk,” Buggy reported, guilt cutting them off before they could get too flirty. The clown scribbled his notes, the easy silence less easy now. 

Mihawk’s lifetime of dedication to becoming the strongest did nothing for him now. All he could do was watch every subtle, pained expression on Buggy’s face while he suffered, the bravest of them all. 

“The agents are infiltrating the asylum the doctor runs when he’s not fucking with our girl,” Crocodile shared, his voice hushed. 

“Sending a teenager to infiltrate an insane asylum? You are ruthless, aren’t you,” Mihawk flirted lightly. He was learning this man, and for the first time he wasn’t making excuses about why. His tone paid off, and he smirked at the playful look on that scarred face.

“Marianne‘ll be fine, I’m sure she’s looking forward to art therapy. Plus, Zala will— what’s wrong, Buggy?”

The clown gestured for silence while his face went red with rage, listening to the rules, and the threats that her monster of an uncle was caging his star with. 

“FUCK!!”

The nearly empty plates and glasses went flying as Buggy flipped the table, his body shaking in every direction, unable to sit with himself for another second.

“I’m pathetic! I can’t help her. I can’t fucking do ANYTHING!”

Crocodile and Mihawk caught as many pieces of him as they could, and wrapped themselves around Buggy until he breathed again, holding most of his body between them. 

“Don’t say that, Buggy.”

“Shh, little clown. You’ve done enough.”

“He’s gonna make her…” Buggy barely managed to choke out the sound, glad that the asshole had left her alone already. One more word from his lips would have made the him explode. 

Her words were worse though. 

“She said she’s gonna fuck the ones she…” He cried out between their now stiff bodies. “He threatened her with… She has to…”

“She has to do what, Buggy,” Crocodile asked, amazed at how steady his voice was while he knelt down to meet the clown’s tired eyes. He kept his hand stroking along his side, that body slumping instead of flying apart now. 

He couldn’t say it, exhaustion making the clown sway against Crocodile’s touch before he floated his hand toward the mess he’d made of the table. Mihawk caught the notepad, his eyes going apocalyptic as he read over Cedrick’s “rules” for the games.  

The swordsman wanted to fly into violence and rage, to turn to ice, and make everything in his path disappear. 

But Buggy’s eyes made him pause, the words on the page having too many consequences, too much weight. 

“Buggy, she said this in anger, did she not? I doubt she’ll really—“

“You didn’t hear him,” Buggy snapped, starting to float and pace while Crocodile read the notes. The clown snatched the notepad off the floor after the scarred man dropped it, his hand shaking with rage. 

“He’s twisted,” Buggy continued.

“He’s dead,” came a rough voice, the fury of a sandstorm barely contained in that vow. 

“Yes, he is,” Mihawk promised as he reached for Buggy. He pushed that lovely, blue hair behind the remaining ear, almost smiling at the ear plug he found. “We will get her out of there, but we need you sane. If our little rabbit needs to take care of herself, we’ll find a way to keep you—“

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Buggy floated just out of reach, glaring down at the swordsman as though he’d started speaking some alien language. 

“You shouldn’t have to listen to that, little clown,” Crocodile soothed, resting his own rage when he realized what Mihawk was saying. “If it happens, we’ll make it loud over here so you can’t hear, or you could—“

“You want me to shove my fingers in my ears while her screams echo through the halls,” Buggy hissed. His anger was building up around him, heating the air, strangling any sense of peace from the room as those old words hit their mark. 

The two monsters under his glare froze, shame stunning them into silence. 

“You think I said I’d rather watch you fuck my star into oblivion just for FUN,” he seethed, his eyes going manic while he floated above them. “I’m a sick fuck, and ended up having flashy, old time, but that’s not why I had to watch.”

He was that frightening showman again, and they were drawn into his act. 

“I’m sorry, Bug—“

“I made myself watch while you took her from me,” he recalled in an almost sing-song voice that chilled the other men’s blood. “I watched and watched, because… I have to listen because…”

The crack in his own voice made him waver, dipping in the air a bit while he stared at the pained faces of these terrifying men. 

“What if they hurt her?”

Silence clashed with the cacophony inside their minds until Crocodile reached toward the clown again, gripping into his shoulder, and sending fear flashing through him while their faces grew closer. 

“We’ll kill them.”

“B-but–”

“Come on, brave, little clown,” Crocodile breathed over his trembling lips. “Why don’t you show me all your toys, huh? How many Buggy Balls would it take to blow up that whole fucking island if we need to?”

As they sighed, falling into the relief of distraction together, Mihawk sank against the wall, becoming nothing more than a threatening statue. He could have tried to grab onto the lifeline his lovers had just created, that comforting moment of camaraderie in violence while the clown indulged in and shared one of his favorite topics.

Yet, the swordsman couldn’t let it go. 

His little rabbit, forced to bed her captors again. 

She’s strong. She’s wicked. She’ll enjoy herself. Then we’ll get her back.

The fear that Y/N might enjoy herself enough to not want to return left Mihawk sick. He had to step outside, wandering down to the garden he’d barely thought of since she was no longer there to smell it on him. 

He found himself fisting into the dirt in that walled garden, huffing a laugh when he smelled the faint, sour scent on his fingers before wiping them on his pants. Red flashed in his mind, and the ex-Warlord sat in the dirt, wishing that love and trust were as simple to cultivate as the garden he’d been too preoccupied to plant. 

“I trust you,” Mihawk whispered to his red haired lover across the sea. The thought of how insufferable Shanks would be if he ever uttered those words in front of him brought a soft smile to his lips. “Please, bring her back. I need her by my side.”

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Time was a human construct, and as your ungraceful body ran like the prey he had transformed you into, you couldn’t tell how long it took for the yells and crashes to race toward you. 

Eternity. 

One fucking second.

A clearing appeared before you, but as you stepped into the open space, an impossible man filled up your world. He knelt down, still towering over you, and all the sounds of chaos in the forest faded while his crimson eyes asked for permission.

Katakuri reached for you, his massive hand outstretched, but he didn’t grab you. 

There was no way you could describe the subtle shift in those stunning eyes when you lifted your hand to take his, but they went wide before you made contact, his hand shooting out impossibly fast behind you. The giant of a man wasn’t fast enough, and cold fear poured through you before you had a warm body wrapped around yours from behind.

“I’ve got you, bunny,” Shanks purred, breathing a little hard as he pressed his lips against your ear. His arm was wrapped around you, holding you tight, as though you were a prize the others would try to tear from his grip. 

You wished they would.

“If we were allowed to wear our raid suits we would have–”

“Don’t complain, brother,” a taunting voice floated through the trees while Shanks looked you over, never taking his hand off of you while he guided you through the trees. “We’ll have plenty more chances. Our little bride likes being hunted, remember? You heard what the old man said about the Cross–”

A strange noise left your throat when Shanks bent down to wrap his arm under your thighs, lifting you up over his shoulder before running too fucking fast. Running until you saw the lovely lanterns again, until the courtyard came into view.

Your own bedraggled image was spread across the outer wall of the manor, the huge snail showing two screens that flashed through replays of your pathetic race and capture. It showed a few highlights of the hunters, including Shanks smashing through what looked like a wall of giant crackers, and Iceburg crawling on the ground in the wrong direction. Now they displayed various angles of the winner carrying his prize.

Shanks was surreal. No one cheered for the slab of meat he’d claimed, not when the Emperor of the Sea looked like some dark god of the forest, a hero bringing home a feast to his starving people.

The image had you closing your eyes, playing into the exhaustion so you wouldn’t have to look at him anymore. 

“Red Haired Shanks, everyone,” Uncle announced as he slowed the audience’s applause, and you opened your eyes to find him beside you, leading your captor to the head table. “The emperor has earned the first private date tomorrow evening, as well as the seat of honor tonight. I hope everyone worked up an appetite.”

I’m not here.

Both men had their hands on you while they propped you up between them, and you faced the courtyard to find the ravenous guests practically drooling over the sight of your torn and dirty dress. Thankfully your back was to the screen, so you didn’t have to keep watching yourself stumbling through the dark. 

The stragglers made their way back, and your mind kept spacing, floating while your torturers chatted, until dinner arrived. 

Servants carried a long stretch of table over the stone path, “ooh’s” and “aah’s” making you more nauseated the closer it got, until they laid out the mythical beast before you. 

Your uncle had caught a white stag. 

He had caught it, killed it, and was laughing while its dead eyes stared at you, its useless antlers like some tragic centerpiece. Uncle Cedrick ordered its flesh to be passed to every plate, so that each of his friends might share in his auspicious meal. 

“Here’s to those with the heart of a hunter,” he toasted. “May your arrows always hit their mark.”

Every bite they took tore through your own skin, the slow prey gone still while the pack of wolves enjoyed their meal. An animal again, your mind was incapable of reason or words, but even the soul of the deer could feel this truth pulsing deep within the bones that the monsters hadn’t yet picked clean.

You would not survive this. They were going to devour you whole.

~~~

“Y/N? Sis? Are you okay?”

Some part of you that only existed for your sister reacted to the worry in her voice, blinking up at her while she carefully pulled the antlers off of your head. Another image of the deer’s mutilated body flashed through your mind as you watched her hold them to her chest before turning away, hurrying toward the door. You stared, thoughts thankfully leaving your mind while she threw the cursed antlers down the corridor.

“Are you okay,” she checked in again when she returned her gentle fingers to your hair.

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, voice coming out raw. “Where is everyone?”

“I’ll get you cleaned up,” Kat assured. Her sharp eyes were wider than normal, but your urge to comfort her couldn’t break through your exhaustion, your delirium. “I didn’t think you’d want all the servants around.”

Gratitude swelled with the lump in your throat while Kat’s soft fingers transformed you, bringing you back to humanity. 

“I’m sorry he’s still such an asshole to you,” your sister breathed, starting to clean the scrapes that littered your legs and feet. “Running through the forest like… You’re getting married, not hunted. He didn’t need to make it so… I’m sorry.”

“Married,” you gave a tired laugh, closing your eyes before you went down the spiral. A hiss left your lips, your body jolting when she dabbed at a particularly unpleasant scrape.

“I’m going to call Dr. Gilli,” Kat announced, stopping you from digging your nails into your thighs. “No one else, and I’ll stay with you, okay?”

“No pills. No shots,” you ordered, too frantic to care about holding it in. 

“Of course not,” she sighed when your breathing started to calm. “I just don’t want to be responsible for your legs falling off from infection. Is that alright with you, sis?”

“Fine.” The slight teasing Kat had managed to put in her tone made your lips twitch, but that hint of relief took all of your energy. Your sister stayed with you, holding your hand while the family doctor looked you over.

Dr. Gilli had always been sweet to you, but the sight of your blood on her gloves while she gushed about how beautiful you looked, and how lucky you were to have such a romantic engagement, made you want to kick that sweet face in. 

“Thank you, doctor,” Kat frowned, shooing the woman out just in time before you punched her in the throat for asking you about babies. 

Kat helped you into bed, crawling in beside you like you were kids again. 

You used to be the big sister. Four years had always felt like such a big gap, especially with everything you had tried to protect her from. 

Until you couldn’t even protect yourself, and Kat had to become the big sister. 

Gratitude and guilt over that fact could never balance out, and as much as you loved her and needed her right now, you ached for her to leave so you could break down. 

Instead, slow tears stained your pillowcase while her comforting presence held you in a quiet cage. 

“It’s only a month,” she whispered while she stroked your hair. “We’re going to find the best husband for you, and then you’ll take over the company. I know it’s scary, but I believe in you, Y/N, just like dad did… I know you’re ready, and I’ll be right here with you.”

Kat’s misplaced trust froze you for what felt like hours, but somehow you fell asleep. Your name echoed through a storm while you watched the wolves tear into her flesh, helpless to keep your sister from the starving beasts.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

For a split second upon waking on the morning of the banquet, Buggy’s first thought hadn’t been panic for her absence, but a hum of pleasure at the warmth surrounding him. 

Guilt sent him flying into pieces to escape Crocodile and Mihawk’s arms, and they blinked up at him as though they’d forgotten her too. Buggy only relaxed when he saw the reality of the day harden their faces. 

Another day full of hushed voices, and waiting. Scribbled notes, and stifled comfort. Fear, and an unsteady hope that Shanks would be the hero again. 

~~~

“What’s this,” Buggy growled at the wide eyed, young pirate that had set down a bright blue cocktail on Y/N’s desk. He’d found himself sitting there tonight, updating the other men while the suitors were introduced, and he closed his eyes to stay focused on the muffled voices. 

The clown had started to panic earlier when his star was told to leave her locket behind, almost losing her because his gift didn’t fit the “theme.” She must have stuffed it into her dress from the way her heart thumped even louder within him, and he coughed to fight the heat in his throat.

I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.

“You like sweet drinks, don’t you?”

Buggy jolted, pretending that surprised squeak hadn’t just left his throat before he met Crocodile’s eyes across the room. 

“Y-yeah,” Buggy frowned, but he avoided the collection of garnishes and tiny umbrellas to take a sip from the curly straw. He found the taste of pineapple, coconuts, and sooo much sugar, covering up the rum that he most definitely needed. “Thanks.”

The scarred man raised a brow, and Mihawk’s soft chuckle from his own desk added to the shiver going up Buggy's spine.

They’re trying to distract me… 

“Thanks, daddy,” Buggy corrected, almost smiling at that frightening, but pleased face until her voice filled with hope.

‘Mr. Iceburg?’

“Mr. Iceburg,” he repeated while her heart went wild. 

“Iceburg,” Crocodile asked quietly, looking at his own notes. “From Galley La? He wasn’t on the list…”

“She knows him already,” Buggy reported. He tried to let it mean nothing. “She likes him.”

“Of course, Sylvad’s has had ties with Water 7 for generations,” Crocodile nodded, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“She may like him, but she loves you,” Mihawk startled him as he appeared beside her desk. “Don’t forget.”

“I’d never forget that,” Buggy snapped, sighing when wicked fingers teased over his tense shoulders, helping him focus.

He focused on her breath, her heart, while she met all the men vying to touch her, to take her. He focused on trying not to freak out the longer the night went on without hearing that familiar, heroic voice. Their best chance.

“Something’s wrong,” Buggy rasped, hardly hearing Crocodile's chair thump onto the new carpet over the deafening silence of his star forgetting to breathe. It seemed like her heart had stopped beating, until her uncle’s grating voice came through, and then it pounded like a bird smashing itself against a window to try to escape.

“The clothes suit you well, Emperor.”

“I had no idea that fashionable friends could be so generous,” Shanks charmed, his voice a miracle. “Or that I’d have the pleasure of meeting such a gorgeous, little bunny again so soon. Sorry, you're a gorgeous, little doe, aren’t you?”

“It’s Shanks,” Buggy shared, almost jealous of the relief that washed over their faces before he closed his eyes to the world again.

Shanks played the roguish pirate to perfection, and Buggy had no notes for his performance. Even muffled, Sylvad’s voice was clearly satisfied, eating up the Emperor’s words. 

“Red Hair made it? He’s a suitor?”

The soft questions ripped Buggy’s eyes open, and the relief he still saw there made him sick. 

“She hates him.”

“What do you–”

“Who does she–”

“She HATES SHANKS!” 

Buggy didn’t notice when he’d flown into pieces, but he floated erratically before them, trying to understand, trying to explain. 

“How… She didn’t say that out loud, did she,” Mihawk asked after a pause, studying his movements. 

“Why would she hate him,” Crocodile mused. His silver eyes stripped him down as he stepped too close.

“How the fuck would I know,” Buggy yelled, horror filling his veins at the way her heart seemed to fight itself in its cage. “This is how she sounds when she’s with Uncle ShitFuck, or that fucking doctor! She hates Shanks. She HATES HIM! What are we gonna do?”

“Shh, shh, darling,” Mihawk breathed, catching Buggy’s face in both hands while his body still flew through the air. “Y/N thought he was going to steal you from her. If she hasn’t forgiven him, then we’ll just have to find another way.”

“But she–”

Every floating piece of him stuttered in the air when cruel lips kissed his so sweetly. 

“I am long overdue for a hunting trip,” the swordsman teased over his skin, twisting those wicked fingers into his hair. “Having all three of us here is a waste. I’ll go thin out the competition.”

“No.”

The refusal was deep, yet gentle, and that scarred face towered over them both while Crocodile tugged at Mihawk’s chin. 

“We’re not doing that. We can’t go against her wishes, not until we know why she’s doing this.”

Buggy felt pain searing behind his eyes while he tried to listen to two things at once: Cedrick Sylvad’s speech, and the moral dilemma of these ex-Warlords.

“I agree,” Mihawk said evenly, barely sparing a glance while Buggy brought his body back together beside him. “But these men want our little rabbit, and her illustrious name for their own reasons. If it’s possible to convince the worst of them to drop out, then we should try.”

“Are you running away again,” Crocodile sighed, the pressure in the air making Buggy want to sink to the floor.  

“Don’t worry, daddy,” Mihawk purred, expertly slicing through all the tension in the room. “I have a spare earpiece snail, so you can scold me all you like while I’m away.” 

‘Did you hear me,’ Cedrick seemed to hiss at Buggy, swimming in guilt for falling into the distraction of the men before him. 

“Chase?”

“What is it,” Mihawk checked in, scanning his face. 

“No,” the clown paused, more endless horror pouring into him. He had to step away, the sounds of her panic while she raced through the woods sending him into helpless rage. The other men let him feel into it, until he rounded on them again. 

“They’re hunting her like an animal,” Buggy seethed, flinching at the sound of his star falling, panting, pushing herself on. “She’s terrified, she’s– Fuck this!”

A wave of sand hit the door before Crocodile blocked his path, only fueling that need to protect her. 

“Marines on call. Germa Kingdom. Big Mom Pirates. Fishman royalty. And we still don’t know what kind of security forces Sylvad keeps on the island, not to mention whatever the Concealer keeps around him, or the President of Galley La,” the larger man listed, his voice firm, but going soft when he touched Buggy’s cheek. “The second you hear our sweet girl ask for help, or say that she doesn’t wanna be there, I will drain them all to dust… but we still don’t know what he has on her. She told us she wanted to go.”

‘This isn’t a dream…’

In a trance, the clown let the other men lead him to that flashy, green couch, his notepad and fruity drink set up on the new coffee table while he slumped into her spot between them. 

“Shanks got her,” he reported, unable to share in their relief with the sound of her strangled breaths so loud in his head. He could barely hear a thing in her world now, the muffled voices beyond theirs were too difficult to make out, especially when another heartbeat filled his mind. His old friend must have been carrying her, and the sound of both of their hearts pounding so close made his gloves damp when he rubbed at his tired eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” Mihawk tugged at him gently until Buggy curled in against his exposed chest. The swordsman didn’t recoil from the faded paint, or the hot tears that streaked down his skin the longer the clown let himself stay there. “If our little rabbit doesn’t trust our hero, then we’ll just convince the rest of the suitors to give up the hunt.”

“Try not to start any wars, little prince,” Crocodile hummed, setting his massive hand over Mihawk’s where it was resting on Buggy’s thigh. 

“War is tedious. I am looking forward to a peaceful life,” Mihawk vowed, stroking Buggy’s hair while the man let exhaustion relax him deeper into his lap. “We just need to retrieve our lovers first.”

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Oh sweetie, you look so–”

“Take a bite.”

Mom’s too shiny smile hardened slightly before she tasted your oatmeal, avoiding the servants that hovered around you in clouds of makeup and hair spray. 

“You’re about to have brunch with your suitors,” she reminded you when you snatched the food from her, practically inhaling it before more pencils or brushes could touch your lips. “Don’t you think it will look strange if you don’t eat with them?”

“You don’t seem to care how strange it looks to sell off your own daughter,” you laughed, noticing a servant’s eyes widen just a fraction when they took your empty bowl. “I’m cooperating, but I will not be leaving my food or drinks unattended until I feel safer. You want your child to feel safe, don’t you, mother?”

“I found some,” Kat beamed when she barged through the door, waving a deck of playing cards above her head. She tossed it to you, and you gasped, surprised that you caught it from the air before it could hit one of the staff. Thankfully, the full skirted dress you’d been stuffed into this morning had pockets, so you tucked your little game away, forcing your mom to taste the rest of your breakfast before the brunch dates began.

But Kat was making that face. Little sister face. 

“What’s that,” you gestured toward the item she had tried to conceal when she sat across from you, tucking it behind her body.

“Just some trash I found in the hall. Do you want some more coffee?”

“Give it,” you ordered, giving her big sister face.

“It’s nothing we didn’t already know, okay? So just…”

“At least I’m not the only one being used,” a sharp laugh left your throat. “How much berry do you think he’s making off of this game?”

Mom ordered the staff to leave before leaning toward Kat, and didn’t whisper quietly enough on her way out.

“Brunch is about to start. Make sure she looks presentable.”

“Can’t sell me off if I'm not pretty, can you?”

“Y/N,” she started, looking convincingly hurt, but Kat got her out of the room before either of you could make it worse. 

You stared at the “trash” in your lap, the crisp scent of expensive ink and paper filling your lungs while you examined the brochure. 

‘Which Hunter Will Claim Her?’

That tantalizing question was scrawled across every page, while the nine suitors each had their own section, their profile, their face, and a stupid little quote about winning you. This barbaric game was disguised behind a snooty font spread over images of dappled sunlight through Sylvad trees, and decorated with arrows and leaves.

Cedar leaves.

You wanted to tear it to shreds, but you were pulled in, studying every detail.

~~~~~~

~~~~~~

Giberson

Age: Couldn’t Recall

Height: Misplaced Measurements

Birthday: August 14th

Title: “Warehouseman”

Favorite Food: Rye Whiskey

How he plans to win: “I’m sure the lovely lady and I will have a delightful time. You don’t get to be my age without learning a few tricks.”

~

Ichiji

Age: 21

Height: 186 cm (6'1")

Birthday: March 2

Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom

Favorite Food: Strawberries and Whiskey

How he plans to win: "I’m a Vinsmoke."

~

Niji

Age: 21

Height: 185 cm (6'1")

Birthday: March 2nd

Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom

Favorite Food: Blueberries and Scotch

How he plans to win: “She’s coming with us. If I don’t win, there’s two more Vinsmoke’s.”

~

Yonji

Age: 21

Height: 194 cm (6'4")

Birthday: March 2

Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom

Favorite Food: Green Peas

How he plans to win: “I wouldn’t mind ending up with a woman like her, so I’m gonna turn her into a princess.”

~

Iceburg

Age: 40

Height: 199 cm (6'6")

Birthday: January 3

Title: President of the Galley-La Company, and Mayor of Water 7

Favorite Food: Curry Made by an Old Friend. A Drunk, Old Friend.

How he plans to win: “Mm, well... I suppose I’ll win because I know her best.”

~

Fukaboshi

Age: 24

Height: 604 cm (19’10”)

Birthday: February 4th

Title: Prince of the Ryugu Kingdom

Favorite Food: Abalone Steak

How he plans to win: “I hope that she carries peace in her heart. If she does, I will stop at nothing to earn her love.”

~

Cracker

Age: 45

Height: 307 cm (10'1")

Birthday: February 28th

Title: Sweet Commander of the Big Mom Pirates, and the Minister of Biscuit

Favorite Food: Biscuits. Dislikes Kimchi and Carbonated Drinks.

How he plans to win: “Easy. I’ll outdo them all.”

~

Katakuri

Age: 48

Height: 509 cm (16'8½")

Birthday: November 25th

Title: Sweet Commander of the Big Mom Pirates, and the Minister of Flour

Favorite Food: Doughnuts. Dislikes hot ramen.

How he plans to win: “I will win because I must.”

~

Shanks

Age: 39

Height: 199 cm (6'6")

Birthday: March 9

Title: Emperor of the Sea

Favorite Food: Kimchi Fried Rice and Lobster. Dislikes Blueberries.

How he plans to win: “Just gonna show the cutie a good time.”

~~~~~~

‘Make Your Bets Now!’

Kat was right. You knew that the audience was enjoying the game, gambling while you just tried to survive, trying to secure the least abhorrent future that you could. 

“Venison…”

“Heeyyy,” Kat fumbled through positivity as she pulled the brochure from your white-knuckled grip. “At least we know how tall they are now!”

“I love you,” you thanked her, amazed that you could still laugh.

~~~

“Such pretty, little fingers… I hope I pass your test.”

“It’s not a test,” you lied, shuffling cards instead of tearing the old man’s eyes out. “Just a game.”

“It has to be the Queen of Hearts,” Giberson winked over his Bloody Mary.

“It’s the Four of Diamonds.”

“So you are choosing the next winner,” he scolded lightly when your prediction was revealed.

“How could I possibly choose when I have so many charming options,” you reminded him as you pushed the deck across the table so he could shuffle for himself. You weren’t ready to pick and choose between these hunters. There’d been no time to feel them out. 

So they had to guess.

The lighthearted brunch felt anything but with so many eyes on your skin, especially with Uncle’s giant projector snail that blew up your image across the building again. All the smaller snails circled around you, their slow, unreal eyes reminding you how trapped you were.

Always trapped.

“That’s alright, dear. Making decisions is tough, isn’t it? I’ve been hearing about what a smart girl you are though! So, what’s the card?”

The old man’s condescension was so typical, you were contemplating rooting for him, just so you could end up with a predictable partner.

“Jack of Hearts,” you smiled after counting down twenty two cards out loud, yet again.

“Whew, that sure is something,” Giberson waved the Jack of Hearts he’d revealed, making sure the rest of the guests could see while he bragged about you, as though your skills were somehow reflective of his own talents. 

As though he already owned you.

“You shuffled,” you teased, guiding him to set up the trick one more time. “Can you guess the card?”

“Queen of Hearts,” he winked again.

Gross. At least he might die soon, that’s a plus.

~~~

“You look beautiful this morning, Y/N,” the firstborn Vinsmoke brother purred when he took Giberson’s seat. 

Every moment was on full display for the other suitors, and for the guests that had stayed on the island for the entertainment. It seemed that the courtyard was to be your new realm, with plenty of space for your much taller dates to join you at your little breakfast table that was set up on a slightly elevated platform. 

A stage. 

“Thank you, Prince Ichigi. You’re looking quite well yourself.”  

Fuck.

It wasn’t a lie, and your pulse sped at the smug smile he gave when he tilted his head down to examine you over his dark, red glasses. 

There was something dangerous in that smile, and the fact that he didn’t even try to hide it made you pause, not sure how best to deal with this entitled prince.

“What does our lovely bride enjoy when she’s not being chased,” Ichiji purred, already claiming you with his words. His sunglasses did little to hide his eyes as they raked over your skin. 

“I enjoy numbers. Mathematics,” you almost squeaked. Heat rose up to your cheeks while you started to shuffle the cards, noticing the number “1” embroidered on his maroon cloak while you explained the goal of the card trick. 

“Seven of Clubs.”

“I’m sorry, Prince Ichiji, you’re wrong again.”

You had to risk a small sip from your untested water glass to fight the dryness on your tongue.

“That’s alright,” Ichiji teased, nodding at the sound of bells marking his time. “That’s why my family always brings numbers.”

“My turn, brother,” the blue haired prince announced as he clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Be nice to our little princess, Niji,” he ordered, pressing your knuckles to his lips before heading back toward the rest of his family. 

“Of course,” your new date smirked, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind that blue head of hair. 

The large spikes and swoops of his hairstyle covered one of his eyes under his gold sunglasses, hiding one of the eyebrows that you kept trying not to glance at. The three brothers shared an odd curl to the ends of their brows, You couldn’t tell if it was a cosmetic choice, but didn’t want to risk insulting such powerful men in case they were sensitive about it.

“Don’t tell me my brother already wore you out,” he clicked his tongue, snapping you out of your memories. 

“I’m so sorry, Prince Niji, I must still be tired from the banquet. What were you saying?”

“Fetch our little bride some coffee,” he snapped at the nearest servant, banging lightly on the table until the dishes rattled.

His harsh tone was almost enough to make you forget your precautions, but you had enough to worry about without the uncertainty of who prepared your drink.

That curly brow raised with satisfied surprise when you rested your hand over his, his lips parting while he ate up your act.

“Would you mind sharing your coffee, Prince Niji? I’d hate to waste any more of our time waiting to wake up.”

“What’s mine is yours, princess,” Niji purred. He caught your hand as you pulled away, and you let him hold it while you drank from his mug. His coffee was unbelievably sweet.

Stop. Don’t think about…

“Thank you,” you hummed, swallowing the heat in your throat while you tried to not to look at his blue hair with that practically syrupy coffee still on your tongue. “Will you help me with a little trick?”

~~~

“It’s up to you, little brother,” Niji reported when his time ran out. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve been watching these pretty hands,” Yonji assured him, kissing your fingers before he sat down. His dark eyes seemed fierce without colored glasses to hide them, and his green hair was slicked back instead of swooping up and out like his older brothers. He wasn’t hiding his interesting features.

“So you think you know the trick,” you challenged, giving him a chance. 

“I think I’ll win your heart,” he swooned, and the sappy look on his face made your hands fumble while you shuffled the deck. 

He focused intently now as you laid them out, and revealed certain cards, counting down to the guess. 

“What card is—“

“Three of Spades,” he blurted out. “What’s your guess?”

“Three of Clubs.”

“Again.”

The youngest prince refused your small talk, avoiding your gaze until his final guess.

“King of Hearts,” Yonji beamed, puppy dog eyes finally on your face again. “What’s your guess, princess?”

Would it be weird to marry Kat’s favorite?

You didn’t glance at your sister, but knew she’d be watching while the green haired prince scored the first point, hearts practically floating around his head when you revealed the card. 

“I told you, princess,” Yonji vowed as he stole a quick peck to your cheek. “I’ll be the one to win your heart.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~⚫~~~

The man that had won your heart beamed when he saw you gazing up at him. His blue hair seemed to glow in the sun, but nothing could gleam like those strong arms, slick with sweat while he climbed down the ropes to meet you on the deck of the ship.

“Oh my, look at you,” Iceburg hummed, tying a bandana over his hair to catch that salty water before it dripped down his face. You stared at those gorgeous, purple tattoos that crawled down his shoulders and arms before he patted the top of your head. “Where’s your dad hiding?”

“He had to take a call, but I helped him write this proposal, so he said I could bring it to you,” you blushed, handing him the file.

“He’s got you working at thirteen,” he whistled, taking the document while he shook his head. 

“I’m fourteen now,” you declared. 

You couldn’t keep yourself from rolling onto your toes a bit, lifting your chin in hopeful challenge. 

“You’re gonna be running things soon, huh,” he smirked.

Mind going absolutely blank under his attention, you just gaped at him like a fucking creep.

“This ship’s almost finished.” Iceburg leaned close, knocking on the railing behind you. “Would you like a tour? It is your family’s wood that makes it so strong, after all.”

“I– Are you sure? I’ll be fine waiting if you need to get back to work. You don’t need to watch me.”

The desire to follow him around like a puppy was overpowered by the distaste at him feeling the need to babysit you, but the look on his face made you laugh, forgetting it all.

“I don’t wanna go back to work,” the handsome shipwright complained, scrunching up his face in a pout that rivaled your sister’s. “I’d rather show you around, and grab some lunch when your dad gets here. Can we?”

“Okay!”

~~~

This gorgeous, lovely man knew more about Sylvad wood than most of dad’s executives. Listening to him talk about it always made you happy, knowing that your family was part of something so important, so loved. 

Iceburg led you through the ship, telling you how he had worked each piece of lumber, how it all moved with the wind and the waves, even guiding you to slide your hand along the trees your family had grown, smooth and silky to the touch after he’d treated them. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” he praised softly, watching your hand against the wood before pulling a pen from his toolbelt. “Well, let’s go get some food, girlie. You can tell your dad what a great job you did presenting your proposal.”

“But you didn’t even read it,” you blurted out, shocked when he pressed the document against a wall to sign his name.

“You and Arbo are good people, plus you’ve got the best lumber in the world,” he laughed while he led you up the stairs toward the sound of footsteps. “I trust you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Iceburg… but you just agreed to build a small fleet to expand our shipping operations in the East Blue. Are you sure you’ll have time for that while you help Tom finish the sea train? Hi, daddy!”

“There’s my girl,” your dad grinned, kissing your temple when you joined him on the deck. “Make any deals without me?”

Iceburg handed the document over, waving his own copy in your direction. Your skin flushed with heat again when he snuck you a wink while your dad glanced at his signature. 

“She’s very convincing. You’ll be able to retire in no time if she keeps this up.”

He was the perfect man. Strong, kind, silly, sweet, and so painfully hot, it drove you mad. You’d had a few crushes on your classmates over the last couple of years, but nothing compared to the way you felt when Iceburg looked at you like that. 

“I don’t doubt it,” your dad praised. He wrapped his arm around the shipwright’s shoulders, nodding his head toward the docks. “Is Kokoro still making that delightful curry?”

“I’ll never let her stop,” Iceburg laughed while he led the way. “Tom should be over there too, let’s go grab some lunch and catch up.”

“Sounds perfect. Do you want to come, sweetheart?”

~~~⚫~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

He’s not who I thought he was. He’s a creep. Another leech trying to latch on and drain as much berry from me as he can. Don’t forget. 

You were pathetic, getting flustered while he watched your hands, his calm voice taking away all your caution. 

“I have to apologize,” Iceburg hummed while you shuffled.

“Why is that?”

“Mm, well,” he looked down at his striped jacket while he patted his pocket. “I left Tyrannosaurus with my secretary. I didn’t think bringing a pet would be… I should be more focused on you.”

“What do you— oh!”

The cards scattered across the table when you jumped, laughter sneaking out of you. 

“This is Velociraptor,” Iceburg announced as a field mouse crawled out of his breast pocket. “I found him during the chase, I hope it’s alright to have pets during our stay. Are you okay, Y/N?”

“I’m fine, sorry,” you recovered from losing yourself in that laughter before gathering the cards again. Your eyes were still watering when you watched the cute creature dive back into his pocket after a few soft pets from his strong fingers. “Can you guess the card?”

“Oh my,” his brows furrowed, watching your waiting hands. “I really need to pay attention, don’t I? I’d love to spend some more time with you.”

He leaned forward, his height making him tower over you at the little table, and you found yourself blinking up at him.

Forgetting.

“I…”

“Is it the Seven of Clubs?”

“No, Mr… No, Iceburg.”

~~~

Prince Fukaboshi was led through the courtyard by a few attendants, both fishmen and mermen featured amongst the group. He looked down at you, mouth opening to speak before Uncle’s voice carried over.

“Why don’t we give our hunter a closer look?”

Grabbing onto the edge of the table took all of your focus, and you knew that your fake smile fell when you started moving through the air. The ground flew away, the wooden platform beneath you rising up toward the prince, gentle surprise on his face.

The snails on the table didn’t seem phased by the change in elevation, and it was hard to pretend they didn’t exist while they slowly shifted positions to better capture you and your date for the audience below. 

You decided not to look down to determine what kind of contraption had lifted you so high, instead looking at the prince before you. Fukaboshi took up your entire field of vision, and it was easy to see the concern on his expansive face.

“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad?”

His teeth look so sharp…

“Please, Prince Fukaboshi,” you trembled, focusing on the cards as much as you could, “call me Y/N. Can you guess the— oh, I’m sorry, are you familiar with these sorts of playing cards?”

You were barely hanging on. He spoke, he guessed, and you could feel the rumble of his voice even though your mind wasn’t quite letting it in. Your body performed without you, your lips reciting words that carried no meaning. 

“This courtship custom is unlike any I have seen before,” the prince frowned while you set up the cards for the last guess. “Since it is all strange to me, I couldn’t be certain, but…”

The pause was long enough for you to meet his eyes, so large, and filled with what looked like compassion. 

No. 

“Miss Y/N, I am seeking your hand so that my people can gain protection and resources so that they never suffer the cruelty and humiliation of slavery again,” Fukaboshi declared. The snails on the table lowered their eyes, but his voice boomed too loud to hide. 

Bells. 

“That is—“

“I never want to see anyone treated the way my sister was by those monsters at the Reverie.”

“Monsters?”

The dangerous question barely made it past your lips before the platform jolted, slowly bringing you down, away from his determined face while the bells kept ringing. 

“Are you being held against your will? I cannot abide another moment of this if you are being used like a pet for their amusement.”

“N-no,” you panicked, craning your neck to see him while you shook your head, hands pleading, voice dripping with lies. “You are so kind, thank you, Prince Fukaboshi! I’m sorry, I must seem scared, but I’m just nervous. This is all a bit overwhelming, but I promise I am glad to be here!”

“Your turn’s over, Prince. You heard the girl.”

Cracker’s manic smile appeared as the table sank to the ground. It felt like your frantic heart had been left in the sky, floating up there with those huge, concerned eyes. 

“Thank you, Prince Fukaboshi,” you beamed, feeling forever selfish at the temptation. 

I can’t risk a stranger, a whole kingdom. I’m not worth it. 

Neither of us would make it out alive anyway. 

“It has been my honor,” he said evenly, though his eyes were scanning the crowd now, a new tension held within his enormous, warrior’s body. 

The snails woke up, those slow moving eyes reminding you that the show must go on.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry?” 

Cracker sat down, and the platform probably should have lifted a bit as the shirtless man was closer to your reality, but he was still even taller than… 

You had to stop comparing these men to your daydreams. 

“Eight of Diamonds… Damn,” he brushed off his loss before looming over you. His dark, brown glove was softer than you expected it to be when he cupped your cheek, almost the whole side of your face. 

“You understand family duties, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod under the wild look he gave you.

He’s fucking unstable.

“That’s good. Family is everything.”

Is he flirting? 

A dangerous giggle almost escaped, but you kept it in, smiling sweetly while he failed every guess.

The bells finally rang out, but they couldn’t save you from his last words, his promise.

“Our family needs you, Y/N. I don’t care if you’re my wife or my sister, I’ll protect you with my life.”

~~~

This time you were grateful for the moving platform, a reason to look away from Cracker’s confident face. The true reason for the movement came into view, his brother waiting patiently for you to settle just below his eye level. 

Those eyes… 

Charlotte Katakuri was too fucking tall. Too fucking scary. Crimson eyes assessed you, his arched brows and sharp nose not nearly harsh enough to distract from those thick, dark lashes of his.

He’s too fucking pretty.

Now that you were this close, you could see scars on both of his cheeks. They led down toward his mouth, still concealed by that massive scarf. Prince Fukaboshi’s sharp teeth came to mind when you wondered what he could be hiding, so you shuffled and shuffled, trying to think about anything else.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” his polite voice made you shiver, seeming to vibrate the elevated stage you were perched on. 

“Same to you, Katakuri,” your voice shook. You couldn’t afford to show this much fear. Predators always looked for weak prey. “Would you mind helping me with a little trick?”

“If that’s what you wish,” he agreed. There was no way to tell if the hint of a smile you heard in his voice was truly hidden beneath his scarf, but it set you on edge, nonetheless. 

“Can you guess the card?”

“It’s the Ten of Hearts.”

He stated it as if it were true, as if he were simply remarking on the weather around him.

And it was true. You’d known it before you revealed it, this simple math trick like the comforting rhythm of a familiar heartbeat. 

“You’re right,” you breathed when you turned it over. “Care to go again?”

Katakuri nodded slowly, but his eyes never left your face, ignoring the cards on the table until you asked for his next guess.

“The Queen of Hearts.”

“Yes. Have you seen this trick before?”

“In a way,” came his cryptic response. “Shall we go again?”

He definitely wasn’t paying attention to the cards. Those stunning eyes were so fucking intense as they bore into your skin that you almost forgot to do the math before you asked for his next guess.

Then you wished you had forgotten.

“What’s the–”

“Shuffle again.”

“But you haven’t–”

You stopped breathing when one of his giant hands shot toward you, his fingers sooo fucking big when he laid them over yours. 

Delicate. This giant was gentle when he covered your hands, covered the cards, practically covered half the little table.

“This card makes you sad,” he whispered, though there was no point with all the surveillance, and with his booming voice at the center of attention. But still, he whispered. “Why don’t you shuffle again?”

Fuck. fuckfuckfuck. Stop. 

There you go. Just smile. 

A small miracle let you slip out of your body, out of your mind, while you shuffled the unrevealed Six of Spades back into the deck. 

Katakuri was still quiet, still watching. So polite while he guessed the right card, letting you pull yourself back together.

Hiding all the struggle behind your Sylvad smile.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he touched your hand again when the platform started to lower. “I’m looking forward to our next meeting.”

You hadn’t noticed the bells.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

“When are you leaving?”

“There’s no point in waiting,” Mihawk avoided the larger man’s eyes. “The sooner I convince the competition to back out, the sooner Y/N will be free of them.”

“Yeah, but how,” Buggy sighed from his lap, the swordsman’s skilled fingers nearly dragging him down to sleep already. “How the fuck are you gonna convince these assholes that they don’t wanna marry her? She’s perfect! Plus, they get in on that stupid company, and get whatever other bullshit DickHole is selling. What can you do besides poke ‘em with your fancy stick?”

“That’s what I plan to find out,” Mihawk smiled, though the finality in his tone was enough.

“Come on, Buggy,” Crocodile nudged his legs aside, offering the clown his hand while he stared at their determined lover. “Let’s remind our little bird why he should fly back home when he’s done pecking people’s eyes out.”

Buggy let out an exhausted giggle while Mihawk shivered, his eyes rolling back just a bit. Just enough.

“You thought you could run away that easily, huh,” Crocodile threatened with his words, and with the tip of his hook below that sculpted chin.

More guilt almost tore the clown away while he watched them, but Buggy chugged his sugary drink, grateful for the quiet of faraway sleep. He started to pull the swordsman up by the collar of his frighteningly fancy jacket, and that arched brow was an instinctual warning.

The clown heeded the warning, loosening his grip on the jacket, only to yank the man off the couch by his hair. Crocodile joined in on his smug laughter, roughly pulling Mihawk against him before he’d stopped moaning from the unexpected pain.

“You’re not leaving tonight.”

Heavy. 

Whatever they held between them felt heavier than either had expected.

“I’ll go get the bed ready,” Buggy sighed as he half floated toward the door, “but I’ll need another drink if you guys take too long.”

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🐊🗡️🐊~~~

“Are you alright?”

Mihawk laughed at the question, and Crocodile wanted to shake him. He was sick of seeing his lovers fall apart right in front of him, with nothing he could do, or even understand.

He ached to understand this man. They had faced each other in battle just a few years ago, but that Summit War felt like a fever dream now.

Not that this new life didn't feel like a dream.

This man…

Crocodile kept getting him. Meeting him in ways that both surprised, and soothed him. 

Mihawk laughed again at the thought of new vocabulary, but Crocodile pulled him close.

“I’m not ready to lose my business partner,” Crocodile confessed, the words too heavy for the smirk he tried to give. 

The words were enough.

Mihawk laid his deadly fingers along that silk vest, silently asking for a kiss while he stared up at the taller man. 

The swordsman felt like a fraud. 

How could someone like him that had carried nothing for so long be filled with so much? He didn’t want to lie anymore than he already had. 

Crocodile gave him what he wanted. A heavy kiss.

“Let’s not keep our clown waiting,” Crocodile rasped, tracing his thumb along Mihawk’s sharp features. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

~~~🗡️🐊🗡️🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

They’re holding hands… 

Crocodile and Mihawk had called through the door, all of their hands occupied until Mihawk handed the slack-jawed clown another cocktail. 

“Nice room service,” Buggy tried to recover. 

“Come here, little clown.”

The scarred man let go of one lover to reach for another. Cupping his hand along Buggy’s jaw, with those large fingers combing into the hair at the back of his neck, Crocodile breathed down on him until he was nodding, red lips still parted.

“I haven’t been giving you enough attention,” Crocodile purred, squeezing his face lightly when Buggy tried to argue. “But it looks like we’re gonna have plenty of alone time soon. Plenty of time for me to spoil you.”

“Y-yup! Lots of…”

“Is that what you want?”

“Sure, whatever you say, bos— Yes, daddy.”

“Good boy.”

Buggy disconnected at the ankles to float up into Crocodile’s deep kiss. He nearly spilled his drink before the larger man lowered him down again, eyes dark and satisfied while he watched his clown. 

“You deserve more attention, but you handled him so well. Help me remind—“

“Let’s fuck him up, daddy!”

Buggy downed his drink with one hand while the other snuck past Crocodile’s body to wrap around Mihawk’s throat. 

“You do know that I’m still Dracule Mihawk, don’t you?”

Wicked fingers dug into the floating hand, dragging it down his own chest while he resisted. 

“Whatcha gonna do, Hawkeyes? Stab me? Slice me,” Buggy laughed, setting down his glass before sending his other hand. 

Crocodile started to undress, chuckling softly at his boys. 

The air shifted as danger, delicious danger, poured from the swordsman while he leaned into Buggy’s touch, forcing his floating hands closer to his own body with every taunting step.

“I’m going to play.”

Mihawk’s golden eyes seemed to flicker with his threat, and Buggy felt a flash of fear, a glimpse of a beast. In that moment, he almost gave in, almost let the beast win.

Wherever his burst of confidence came from, Buggy went with it.

“Why don’t you play with daddy’s balls then, huh, crybaby?”

One of the clown’s hands broke free from that hold, and Mihawk couldn’t fight the moan that tore through him when gloved fingers ripped into his hair again, forcing him to look at Crocodile. The larger man was so very large, stroking himself while he sat on the edge of the bed. 

Gods, that fucking cock.

Buggy took advantage of Mihawk’s wonderment by kicking the backs of his knees until he hit the floor, and wrapped himself around the swordsman’s back to leave lipstick-stained bites along his neck. 

“Don’t lie. You wanna get fucking wrecked, don’t you?”

“I don’t like liars,” Crocodile teased, circling his thumb over his tip, taking in a quick breath of satisfaction at the desperate look on Mihawk’s face at the sight. “Do you want us to wreck you, little prince?”

Mihawk melted as that lovely hook pressed into his throat. Buggy rubbed himself against his back, and the swordsman laughed, feeling entirely fucking spoiled. 

“Please, daddy.”

What a fucking sight… 

The scarred man still couldn’t understand how these lovely men were somehow his, not after everything he’d done, everything he’d felt before. Watching Mihawk beg so sweetly while Buggy stripped him made Crocodile’s cock so hard it almost hurt, his rough fingers easing up against that sensitive flesh, until wicked fingers, wicked lips, replaced his own grip. 

“Fuck. Such an evil little mouth you’ve got– Shit…”

Buggy realized his own mouth was hanging open as he undressed, but he couldn’t care to close it while he watched Mihawk swallow more than looked humanly possible.

“Help me out, Buggy,” Crocodile groaned while he gripped Mihawk’s hair, his hand bobbing up and down with that pretty face. “Stretch out our filthy prince for me. No way he’s leaving here before I ruin that perfect, little ass.”

Sloppy, muffled whines escaped him, and Mihawk’s eyes rolled at the daunting threat. Buggy was there, lubed, and ungloved fingers fucking into him until he shook with need, with pleasure. 

“Get over here,” Crocodile growled, stepping back to yank Mihawk toward the bed by the hook around his neck. Buggy helped him along, floating hands lifting that moaning form into place. 

Mihawk’s place was on his hands and knees in the center of the bed, and he lost himself there in the tender and vicious touches his lovers showered him with. In their praise and teasing, pleasure and pain. In the taste of Buggy’s skin as he shoved his cock down his throat. 

He absolutely fucking lost himself when Crocodile lined himself up. He was the world’s greatest swordsman, and he enjoyed pain a great deal. Yet his former enemy was about to pierce him so thoroughly that Mihawk whimpered around Buggy's length, almost afraid. 

Then he felt nothing but that heavy cock, stretching, and claiming, and filling him until tears streamed from his golden eyes.

“So good, so fucking good for me,” Crocodile grunted. He dragged his hook down Mihawk’s side, still not believing what he was seeing. 

Dracule fucking Mihawk, moaning around a clown’s cock while his pretty, little hole sucked him in again and again. 

“Let’s give our twisted prince what he wants, eh, Buggy? Make sure he remembers where he belongs.”

Buggy stuttered in agreement, nearly gone before he obeyed. He tore at Mihawk’s hair while his other hand scraped brutally down his back. The twitching that his rough hands caused forced his cock even deeper until he spilled his pleasure down that desperate throat.

Crocodile sliced his hook around the swordsman’s body, pouring red from that perfect chest while he stuffed his little prince full. The overwhelming sensations had Mihawk coming harder than he’d thought possible, and the sounds he made were unreal. Pathetic. 

Music to the ears of his sated lovers. 

The clown didn’t need to be ordered or asked, Buggy just helped Mihawk stay steady while they pulled out of him. So many praises showered them both while the swordsman just breathed, assessing his every, vicious ache. 

Crocodile hated to leave for even a moment, but he didn’t need to worry. Buggy’s hands had already flown to the bathroom to wash themselves, spilling a bit of soap on the counter before grabbing what he needed. When Crocodile returned from the shower, Buggy was still wiping the other man clean, humming while he trailed gently over that perfect skin. 

Mihawk’s skin was littered with scars of battle and lust, of trust, and he had just enough energy for a weak smile as Buggy’s fingers danced over them all. He moaned, twitching in those gentle arms while his lovers washed him in the shower, no way to recover this soon. 

“Don’t whine, crybaby,” Buggy mumbled, too focused on cleaning and bandaging his wounds while Mihawk melted into the burn. “We’ll slice you up some more when you get back.”

“He’s right,” Crocodile hummed. Seeing these lovely boys taking care of each other gripped something deep within his chest. Whatever it was sparked fear in him, so much so that he had to pause while they laid Mihawk on the fresh sheets between them. 

I can’t lose them. Can’t lose any of them. 

“We’ll be waiting, little bird,” he pressed a kiss to Mihawk’s temple. Contented, sleepy sounds filled the air, and he tried to trust that this lovely new world wasn’t about to end. “Fly back home, alright?”

He couldn’t shape words, but Mihawk hummed his promise before he drifted away.

Home…

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Morning, Y/N— well, afternoon by now, isn’t it?”

You shuffled just to have something to focus on while you simpered for him. 

The traitor. 

“Good afternoon, Shanks. I’m looking forward to our date this evening. Since you already won, I’m afraid you’re out of the running for the next date. We have to give everyone a chance, of course.”

“Of course.” 

You couldn’t fucking believe the charm that oozed off of him when he beamed at you. 

“I’d still like to try your little game though, if that’s alright, gorgeous?”

Shanks stayed quiet while you laid out the cards, some face up, some face down, before you counted down twenty two from the remaining deck. 

A comforting rhythm, the answer already dancing in your mind. 

“It’s the Eight of Clubs,” Shanks purred, touching the back of your hand. Lingering against your skin.

He looked so fucking smug. 

A sick stillness went through you before you revealed his answer. 

Of course, he knows this trick. He probably learned it before the first time he betrayed—

“Let’s go again,” Shanks ordered, the heat in his voice sending shivers across your shoulders, crawling up your neck. 

The eyes of his competition were on you, but the Emperor looked at you like you were already his. Like you were spread out before him, venison for the skilled hunter to devour. 

“Shuffle,” Shanks threatened, catching your chin in his dangerous fingers. 

Just smile. Just pretend.

“I’m not done playing with you yet, little bunny.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note:

Oh my goodness. Thank you so much for waiting, and for reading that giant chapter!! 🥰🙏🏼 I hope you enjoyed it, I've been going bonkers waiting to hear all your thoughts on this big ol' mess!

Let me know in the poll if you'd be interested in a separate post of my OP canon + Numbers Game canon timeline. It would give away reader's specific age, so I don't want to share it if people don't want to know!

Note on the Brochure: All of the character details included in the brochure are from Oda, except for the quotes and the missing details for Giberson. I found them on the One Piece Fandom Wiki if you’d like to go check out more about the characters' history. I live on that site, and have to give those fans the credit for compiling all those details! I already spend hours searching for specific parts in the anime for things like lines for speech patterns and such, I’d be lost without the wiki!

Note on the Card Trick: I must confess, I am not as skilled with numbers as our Numbers Girl. This is the same trick I had Buggy use during the flashback of their first night together, and I have no idea if this 15 year old youtube video is full of shit or not, but if you'd like to try it out, here's the tutorial!

Note on this line from the beginning of the chapter: "The White Stag. The hunted. The prey." Kiki Rockwell's voice has been living in my brain, and I realized this line is similar to hers in Burn Your Village "You do not dance everyday with the fear Of living in headlights, the hunted, the deer"

That song is so good, and fits so well! 🦌😭

Anyhoo, I'm off to try to catch up on all of your wonderful comments! Y'all mean the world to me, thank you so much!!! 🙏🏼💜

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97

Part 33

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[adachimoe]

Adachi's fixation on Mayumi

In a previous post, I talked about how the game is vague about why Adachi is at the Amagi ryokan, and how I believe it's implying he was stalking Mayumi, and that he hadn't actually been assigned to guard her. I still believe that, but, what exactly about her was Adachi so fixated on that he felt compelled to do this in the first place?

Normally, one would probably just go, "Adachi is an incel" and that's supposed to serve as an explanation for both why he liked her and why he killed her. But painting over everything about him as "Adachi is an incel" feels really reductionist.

When Adachi calls out to Mayumi at the ryokan, he asks her to come to the lobby and begins by asking her about the affair. This scene actually has some significance in how Katsura Hashino re-interpreted the mythology of Izanagi and Izanami for Persona 4: In his mind, Izanagi going to Yomi to verify if Izanami was dead or not represented a desire to seek out the truth; death is when you "quit thinking". Adachi mirrors this, going to the Amagi's (his Yomi), and verifying information about Mayumi (his Izanami).

And when Adachi asks her, he presents it in a way that says, he is on her side. His phrasing here is notable: The affair - it's not true, right? And it shows what he wants to believe too, because he doesn't want to believe that she was in an affair with a married man.

After all, he probably saw her on the Midnight Channel before and has it in his brain that she's his "soulmate". Heck, even when you find him in the TV World, he's ranting about her not being single:

It's parasocial and it's creepy. God I wish he'd talk about me that way.

But, I think it's in how he presented himself as "taking her side" that we can figure out why he was so fixated on her. If Adachi comes in assuming that Mayumi was not really having an affair with Namatame, then that means that her losing her job at the station, her being forced to hole herself up in the ryokan, the media circus surrounding her, etc... Then that would make her a victim in all of this: Someone who has been thrown under the bus and is being treated unfairly. And by her former media contemporaries, nonetheless.

Funny enough, as it would happen, there is a character in the story who feels they are a victim who has been treated unfairly and fell from grace at their workplace, and sees their current situation as punishment from their coworkers...

...aaand it's Adachi.

It feels quite probable to me that part of why Adachi fixated so hard on Mayumi is because he basically looked at her situation and thought, "Oh, she's just like me, frfr". Dude really headcanoned that her affair wasn't even real.

We aren't really shown what happens with Adachi and the Midnight Channel after he comes into town. We know that he had seen it before he talked to Mayumi, as he was aware he could touch the TV, just unaware that a whole body could go in. And with Mayumi's scandal being in the news and media, and her being on people's minds, we know she appeared on it during Namatame's flashbacks.

I think Adachi got it in his mind that even though she was this otherwise out of of reach person for him, being a celebrity and all, she too was a victim of sorts, and what he saw as a common point between them (we don't actually know why he got transferred lol) could have led to a blossoming relationship. Like they were meant to be together, as he probably saw her as his soulmate on the Midnight Channel. Oh, what a coincidence for her to go through this big media scandal when around the same time that he transfers into Inaba. Clearly it was fate.

Really, he's fucking delusional. It's great.

Although, I do wonder if this also says something about him. While he talks big in his Golden Social Link about only going after insanely beautiful women, he isn't actually portrayed in the narrative as trying to hit on women or ask them out regularly. While he has his preferences, perhaps he only tries to seriously pursue women who are broken or downtrodden in someway--like it's less chance of getting rejected.

[changbunnies]

After The Rain With You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Farm Boy!Changbin x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, fluff, initially intended to be light angst but i got carried away with emotion like i did with the minho fic lol, forbidden love (i cannot help myself with this trope it seems), ending is sad / bittersweet (i'm sorry !!) but also leaves hope that they'll live happily ever after ;v;

♡ Word Count: 13.9k (this was intended to be under 10k but here we are lmao oops)

♡ Summary: Y/N, a princess bored and lonely, craved nothing more than to experience the world outside of the familiar 4 walls of her bedroom in the castle. Conjuring her bravery, she snuck out of the castle walls, eventually meeting a man that would change her life forever. Changbin, a local farmer who didn't realize she's the princess, formed a close relationship with her that ineveitably turned into a budding romance. But now, met with her last moments of freedom, she prepares herself to have one final sweet moment with him before they are torn apart.

♡ Warnings: references to a parent being deceased, discussions of feeling trapped and alone, strict toxic parenting

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): reader is not a virgin during the smut scene in this but changbin is the only person they've ever had sex with, bin vaguely has a southern accent / speech style because thats how i pictures farmers talking lol, petnames (sweetheart, darlin', gendered language such as good girl), lots of kissing, biting / marking, loose dom/sub dynamics, nipple play, oral (f rec), unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie, pretty self indulgent ngl lol

♡ Notes: i got the title from a short pokemon novel, iykyk. this was intended to be finished before the new year, but instead it's my first fic of 2024 and i hope you enjoy!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Freedom; something simple in definition, but not in practice, those in high positions of power always holding it out of the reach of those below them who yearn for it. It's intangible in concept, something you will never be able to see with your own eyes or grab with your own hands, but it was something you always yearned for, more than anything– and in the short time you had it, it was pure bliss.

You never considered yourself a rebellious girl, always dutifully listening to your elders, commiting manners and elegance to memory, never questioning the role you'd one day be made to accept. But in the past year, you'd found yourself having a bit of a rebellious streak– in secrecy, of course, because you knew very well that there'd be consequences to pay should your mother find out.

It's not that you ever hated being the princess, or that you dreaded the responsibility you held to your kingdom– you just wish you'd been given more freedoms. Freedom to speak your mind, freedom to feel the grass beneath your feet and the sun's rays on your skin whenever you wished, freedom to explore, to make mistakes, to learn and grow and love the way everyone else in the world but you seemed allowed to do. 

For years, there'd been a blindspot in the castle's defenses, a small patch of broken wall that guards were never ordered to defend or monitor closely, as the country had not seen war or received threat from neighboring countries in your entire lifetime.

"We'll repair it someday," your father always said before his passing, though it never came to fruition. It was not because he passed that the wall never received construction, but simply because your parents always preferred to delegate funds to something more pressing than a relatively small breach in the outer walls of the castle.

Sure, the hole was unsightly when noticed, but it was outside line of sight for the townsfolk, and much too small to accommodate an army through– one person at a time, maybe two if you squeezed, could fit through at most. Apart from that, the fact that your father never used taxes to pay towards selfish things such as unnecessary castle repair gained your family high favor, with most commoners considering your father to be the kindest king the country had in centuries.

During the time your father was still alive, you often walked the streets as a family, talking to the commoners regularly and enjoying your time out on the town together, and you remember how it always felt like you were as normal a family as any other, too young to realize there was any difference between you and them.

You can still remember how your mother smiled then, when she held your hand while your father held the other, the townsfolk always doting on you, and how cheerfully your every day had been spent. Your mother was quite different now; she never smiled anymore, and when she did it felt so.. forced, sad.

Like your father took a piece of her joy with him when he went, and she was unable to reclaim it. And it was at that time, when she took on all of the king's responsibilities by herself, that she'd begun to treat you differently. Stricter on your studies, never allowing you to step foot outside the castle, shutting down any talk of letting you out on the town or interacting with anyone outside the castle's walls.

And now the whole kingdom, who considered you to be the country's most beloved princess, could scarcely remember what you looked like; and even those who could remember would likely no longer recognize you. You were a child when you were last allowed outside, and now you were a grown woman, still confined by her mother's strict rules.

Despite the reclusive life you were forced into, many of the commoners still thought of you fondly– at least according to word of mouth from the castle's maids and knights.

You were the daughter to a king and queen that were practically revered as saints, and many imagined that the reason you were always holed up within the castle was because you were studying dutifully, imagining that when you came to power someday, you'd be just as benevolent, kind, and intelligent of a ruler as your father was.

You certainly intended to live up to those expectations, because as stated, you don't hate being the princess by any means. You recognize that you have privilege, responsibility, and that people put their pride and faith in you even now, before you've ever even come close to touching the throne. But all that being said, it didn't stop your heart from wanting just a little bit more out of your life.

Simply put, you found it incredibly dull sitting inside the castle all day, the same lessons being reiterated day in and day out, as if you didn't already have them memorized by the age of 10. Eventually, your mother realized you had no further need for a tutor, and requested that the woman in charge of your education stop coming, but that didn't mean your afternoons suddenly became enjoyable; quite the opposite in fact. 

The joy you initially held over no longer having to spend your afternoon listening to the same drivel you'd heard countless times from a pedantic old woman evaporated with the realization that even without a tutor to occupy for time, you'd still be stuck in the castle all day long. Your mother never permitted you to leave, even if you promised you'd stay close to the knights that would accompany you, pleaded with her to let you do something other than sitting inside all day. 

But still, her stance on the matter never changed. You'd begun to resent her sentiments, to hate that you were stuck with nowhere to go and nothing to do. The country wasn't under any threat, your fathers death was an unfortunate accident, and as far as you knew you were well loved, so what did she need to be so protective for? Especially now, when you weren't even a child anymore; you just couldn't understand.

You’d spend your days staring out your window listlessly, wondering what the grass on the horizon would feel like beneath bare feet. It’s a shame that you don’t know; you were always scolded for taking your shoes off if you weren’t within your own room, and besides that, the ground is littered with dirt and cobblestone all the way up to the gates of the town, which you had never gone past.

Shouldn’t your youth be full of experiencing things like this? Why couldn’t you explore now and then settle down in the castle later in life? It didn’t feel fair that you were so clueless about the basic truths of the world, and instead had your brain filled to the brim with knowledge of etiquette and politics.

It was with those thoughts in mind that you planned to find the answers to all your questions and sate your endless curiosities by sneaking through the hole in the castle walls that had gone unattended to.

After the first time you successfully snuck out to experience all you’d been missing (which took months of diligent watch and preparation to ensure you wouldn’t be spotted from a distance by patrolling knights), you’d slowly made your way further and further away from the castle, testing the limits of how far you could make it each day, gauging how long it would take for someone to notice your absence.

To your delight, because you spent most of your days alone in your room, no one seemed to notice you’d ever been gone as long as you made it back before dinner was to be served. And so, you'd stay out until sunset, exploring the town you'd grown to only ever see from your window, making sure to wear the least expensive looking gown in your wardrobe, doing your best to blend in with the commoners.

Thankfully, the task was easier than you'd expected given that none of the townsfolk had seen you up close since you were a small girl. You were perhaps strange in behavior as compared to them, given how much you questioned what was around you, but certainly not one person suspected you were the princess– just a sheltered, perhaps eccentric, young woman.  

As you became more comfortable, and got closer to the town gates with each passing day, your excitement would grow exponentially; the world beyond the gates was so foreign to you, even more so than the town itself had been. From your bedroom window, the fields that lied beyond the town gates appeared so miniscule, and you only knew what lied beyond because you’d been told about it, not because you’d seen it for yourself.

It was this determination to discover what lied beyond your limited world view that lead you to meet the man who'd come to hold your heart for the first time. You remember how your heart raced when you first approached the town gates, how your eyes darted to every corner to try to take in every minute detail.

The cobblestone became sparse, leaving nothing but dirt road to walk on, the wheels of countless carriages and horses hooves indented in the path, leading both to and away from town. You’d been told numerous times that beyond this point lies the farms that fueled the town with their food, and resources such as leather and wool to create clothing, blankets, and the upholstery on your furniture.

And for the first time in your entire life, you were about to see it all up close with your own eyes, instead of vaguely from your bedroom window.

You knew their work was vital to the prosperous existence of your country, and you’d always found yourself wanting to know what it was like, to learn about how the world works not from a dull lecture or written text, but to experience it yourself, to truly understand the lives of the people you would one day govern beyond what you’d been told.

To say you had a curious mind was perhaps an understatement; you were always full of curiosity about the world around you, but simply being told about the world wasn’t enough for you to be satisfied. 

To experience with your own eyes, to feel with your own hands– that was what being alive was truly about, wasn’t it? You didn’t feel your life was meant to be spent wasting away in your room until the day you became useful.

If you spent your youth seeing the world, learning about it from your own lived experiences, wouldn’t that make you a better queen some day? To know the plight of the common man because you lived it for yourself? 

That’s what you wanted– the freedom to explore, to learn, to grow, and when the time was right, you’d accept your duty gracefully, and play the role you were meant to. But until then, there was nothing more you wanted than to feel the earth beneath your feet, to understand what a blessing it truly is to feel the warmth of the sun beaming down on your skin, to learn what it is that makes life beautiful to live. 

With a deep inhale to steady your racing heart, you took your first step outside the town gates, trying your best to not appear too nervous and draw undue attention to yourself. You conjured all the confidence you could muster into your steps, your short heels sinking into the pure dirt before you.

It was a clear spring day, the sun welcoming you warmly, as if confirming that this was a decision you were meant to make, that following your heart and exploring the lush earth is what your true purpose was. 

You recall how different everything felt once you were fully outside the town– it was almost unbelievable how green, pretty and vibrant the outside looked when compared to the dull, monotonous grays and dirty browns you'd met with inside the town walls. And even the castle interior, while still pretty and not devoid of color like the town often seemed to be, still didn't compare to the nature that lied before you.

You saw children running through the grass without shoes, freely giggling as they play what you assume to be some sort of game, one you'd never had the chance to play. They were utterly carefree, and so full of life; how you wished you could be the same– just kick off your shoes and prance through the fields and the trees without a care in the world, with nothing to weigh you down. What a joy it must be, to live innocent and free, knowing nothing but laughter and love. 

You took time to admire naturally growing flowers, to lean down to carefully caress the petals, to feel the grass on your fingertips since you’re much too scared to actually take your shoes off despite how bad you’d have liked to. Following the road, past the sprawling fields where the children play, you eventually came to the occupied farm lands, and it was there, just before the fields turned into seemingly endless forest, that you met him for the first time.

His was the last farm for you to observe, and it held a surprise that made you positively gasp in delight; animals! You'd always thought the farm animals you’d seen in your books looked so cute, and you always wanted to feel their fur or feathers, wondering if they were truly as soft or as coarse as they were described to you.

Was a sheep’s wool still soft before it was knit into a blanket, or woven into clothing? How did a chicken's feathers feel before they were stuffed into a pillow? It was something you were endlessly curious about. 

However, you certainly knew better than to just waltz up to an animal that doesn't know you, and especially not one that is on someone else's land. So you settled for quietly observing them from outside the farm's sprawling gate, a huge smile on your face as you watched the animals graze.

Even at your distance, it was still the closest you'd ever been to an animal other than a horse, and you simply couldn't get over how cute and soft they looked. Sheep, cows, chickens, ducks– all impossibly cute, and how you wished you could go and hug them.

You propped your arms up on the wooden fence, resting your head against them as you simply watched. It was almost funny how something so simple and normal to someone else's everyday life could instill such joy and wonder with you. And that's when you saw him; a single man walking out from his quaint cottage towards the back of the land, attending to the animals and filling up what you assumed to be their feed troughs.

His home, you noticed, was put together the same way most of the town was– with stone and clay, a simple but well constructed wooden door, and a decent sized chimney on the left that you were well aware was necessary to funnel out smoke from fireplaces in homes such as his. And it fascinated you how his home could look so different from yours when it was comprised of the same materials.

When put down simply to its parts, there was nothing that separated the castle from a commoner’s home other than the sheer size of it. Your mother would often tell you not to compare yourself, or the splendor of the castle to that of commoners or their homes, but you never saw any harm in doing so. 

You’re all human, and the only difference between you and them is that you were born into a royal family and they weren’t. You think she focuses too much on title, when to you title is worth nothing beyond a name. Still, while you recognize that while you aren’t different from anyone else in a biological sense, you are when it comes to status, and you wanted to use your privileged position for good when the time came.

That is another reason you wanted to see the country for yourself, to put yourself in the shoes of the people and understand them. How can you be a good queen someday if you understand nothing of how the world truly works, or if every decision is fed to you from someone else? 

Really though you have to admit, apart from all the good reasons you had to sneak out, you equally had selfish ones. But was it so wrong to indulge your curiosity? You’ve tried many times to push aside your thoughts and to understand why you must stay solitary in the castle all day, but try as you might, this is all you want.

To see, to experience, to feel; why was it only wrong for you to want that, and not for anyone else? Even if you’re the princess, you should still be allowed basic human freedoms– that’s what you believe, anyways.

You lost yourself in thought for a time, simply staring out at the scene of the man caring for his animals in front of you. You wondered if he was happy doing this everyday; was it monotonous, or did he take pride in it? Did he love his animals, or were they strictly the avenue he'd taken to provide for himself?

You also wondered what you would be doing if you weren't the princess; would you be a farmer's daughter, spending all your days in the fields with the animals like he does? It was oddly fun to ponder on, to picture yourself leading a different life than one you'd led up to that point.

Maybe it was a form of escapism, and maybe you had more grievances with your upbringing than you'd let yourself believe at the time. Either way, a smile once again made its way to your lips as you pictured yourself feeling the fluffy wool of a sheep beneath your fingertips, as warm, soft, and comforting as a blanket in your imagination.

The man took notice of you after only a few moments, because realistically, how can he not notice a girl blatantly propped against his fence, staring at his land? He was sure he didn't know you, didn't recognize you from any of the farming families that have homes adjacent to his, and he didn't go into town nearly enough to have made friends outside his small bubble.

So who were you, and why were you staring at him like that? "Do you need somethin', miss?" The burly man called out to you as he started to approach, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.

"O-Oh, uh, no, I apologize," you stuttered out, feeling instantly intimidated as he came closer; not because he was an intimidating person per se, because while his eyes are sharp, they also have a unique softness to them.

It was his size that made you shrink back and feel small; you didn’t realize just how large the man was until he was practically face to face with you. Even the knights you’re met with daily, who undergo strict, intensive physical training, pale in comparison to the muscular physique of the man you in time came to know well.

You remember how he looked at you curiously, head tilting to the side as he watched you straighten your posture and take a step back from his fence. “I was just.. curious, about the animals. They’re very cute,” you explained and the man chuckled a bit, wiping his dirty hands on his worn trousers before stepping up to his fence.

“I take it you’re from the town then? Can’t imagine you bein’ that curious about my animals otherwise,” he replied pleasantly, a warm, sort of prideful smile on his face. It confirmed his suspicions as well– you were definitely not someone he’s met before.  

"Yes, I've only ever seen them in books," you explained further, a bit timid now as you suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You were sure a commoner of your age would never be as fascinated by the animals as you were; they see them every day, it's a normal part of life for them.

And you recall scolding yourself, really feeling that you needed to do a better job of hiding your lack of worldly experience when meeting new people so you'd stop having interactions like this. “I apologize again, I must appear very strange..”

“No need for that, sweetheart. I think it’s nice– I’m so used to bein’ around ‘em, that I don’t really stop and take it all in anymore. Reminds me of what I got, so thank you for that,” he replied kindly, his smile spreading an unfamiliar warmth through you in that moment.

He was very, very kind, and you appreciated that he didn't judge you or find you to be a fool for your innocent curiosity. "I could show you around, if you'd like. Let you meet them," he offered, and you positively beamed, though you really should have shown some restraint in the matter.

"Could I really?" you couldn't help but ask eagerly, eyes sparkling with pure wonder and excitement at the prospect of seeing so many things you'd never encountered before up close. “Course, just come ‘round to the front” 

With no hesitation, you eagerly turned and began to sprint (in quite unladylike fashion, you might add) to where you saw the gate to his property some time earlier. You could hear the man's laugh carry even as you ran (not advised in the shoes you were wearing, but you carried on nonetheless), stopping just in front of the small, modest gate.

You waited for the kind man to catch up to you, not wanting to do anything rude or presumptuous by stepping onto his land without being specifically directed inside. "You took off so fast, you didn't give me a chance to introduce myself," he laughed as he approached you again, and your face immediately flushed, embarrassed by your excitability over everything.

"Name's Changbin," he introduced himself warmly after he opened the gate for you. You smiled timidly, giving him your name as well and a polite bow after you crossed the border onto his property. “Pleasure to meet you, Changbin.”

"Likewise," he smiled as he closed the gate behind you, and it was then that your first true friendship began. In hindsight, it occurred to you that you should've given him a fake name; and while he did ponder on why your name seemed familiar to him, he didn't ever appear to put together that you were the princess.

What was clear to him was that you were from a wealthy family; after all, that was the only explanation he could reach to decipher some of your "odd" behaviors.

Your boundless curiosity, your utter excitement for the mundane, an unmatched passion for all the small things in life that he'd never seen before in anyone else. A light in your eyes as bright as the sun, filling him with warmth and adoration, your wonder and inquisitive nature both pure and infectious. 

He asked you once, what it is your family does, if being from the "high society" part of town near the castle is what made you live a sheltered life, why you seemed so (respectfully) clueless about things beyond the scope of inner-town workings and politics.

You were surprised when he asked, and confirmed what he suspected, though you left out some of the very important details. After all, how could you tell him that the girl he's become friends with over the past few months, didn't just live near the castle– her home is the castle.

But you divulged what little you could, confided in him that your mother has high expectations of you, that she doesn't know you spend your days with him at his farm, that if she did know she certainly wouldn't approve, and he seemed to understand.

While he may not be a high born man, he's no stranger to how haughty they can be, what with their superiority complexes and luxury goods, as if it's not working men like him that provide them with what they consume in the first place.

You weren't like that in the slightest– you were good, pure natured, with an infectious zest for life that he couldn't help but find his own joy in. Seeing you interact with the world, the happiness you gained from the simplicities in life, the wonder and curiosity you held for all things, both small and grand– it was a trait of yours he'd come to adore.

You learned from him just as much as he learned from you, and you truly reminded him how beautiful life is, how there is magic even in the mundane, what a gift it is to have, to be, and to feel. Changbin introduced you to so much, shared so many parts of his life, and you were truly the happiest you'd ever been, always looking forward to the next day you could go out and see him again.

"Have you ever ridden a horse?" he asked one summer afternoon when you were in stables together, you sat on a hay bale while you watched him care for Dolly, a beautiful, black and white dappled horse that belonged to his mother, whom she named such due to 'her mane being as beautiful as a porcelain dolls.'

"Does being escorted in a carriage count?" you asked, and he laughed, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "No, darlin', a carriage don't count," he said, smiling as you pouted ever so slightly.

You were still a child the last time you were even in a carriage, given the fact that your mother never permits you to leave. You wondered what's more enjoyable; your memory of your last carriage ride is so faded, you wondered if you could even compare the experiences, were you to ever ride a horse.

As if sensing your thoughts, Changbin made an offer that once again made you beam, radiating joy and excitement. "I could teach you how. Or let you ride with me," he offered and you were eagerly nodding without a second thought, jumping straight to your feet.

"I'd love that!" Changbin returned your smile, promising that once he got Dolly situated in a saddle, he'd take you for a ride while telling you everything he knows and answering any question you may have about it, no matter how small or seemingly silly and "common sense."

He helped you up onto her back, making sure you sat comfortably on the back of the saddle, both your legs dangling over one side of her body due to the fact that you were wearing a dress. Changbin got up onto the saddle with ease, carefully not to accidentally hit you with his leg while making his ascent. After he was settled in front of you, he instructed you to wrap your arms around his torso, as it takes time to become adjusted to the movement of the horse and naturally find your balance.

You wondered if he could feel your heart race when your chest was pressed against his back, how your palms grew sweaty from holding onto him, how your face flushed every time he called Dolly a "good girl." You wondered what it'd be like if he said the same to you, if he praised you after he encouraged you or taught you something new.

The more comfortable you got, the more he allowed Dolly to pick up speed, until she was going around the enclosed pen in a brisk trot, your arms squeezing Changbin as you giggle joyfully, feeling the wind brush by your ears and pull back your hair. It was so fun, so new, another experience Changbin granted you that you wouldn't otherwise have ever had the chance to have.

When you were finished, as the sun was beginning to set and it was time for you to get home, lest your mother send a maid to summon you for dinner and find you absent, he jumped off Dolly first. He then held out his hand to you, offering for you to take it, promising he'd make sure you got down safely.

And he did, letting you squeeze his hand as you made the unfamiliar leap off, his opposite hand coming to your back to ensure you were stable on your feet after you landed. His hand lingered on your back even after it was apparent you were steady, and yours did as well, still holding onto his other hand even though you no longer had need to.

It felt as though there was a shift between you– both staring carefully at one another, a suggestion that you could be something more than this, that there was a connection beyond that of just friendship. Slowly, with the same smile for you he always had, he pulled his hand away from your back, but didn't make you part from his other hand, letting you hold it even as he walked you to his gate.

And you felt a stutter in your heart, unlike any you'd ever felt before then, returning his smiles happily, your cheeks dusted pink as you thanked him for the afternoon and bid him goodbye. Every once in a while you'd turn back just to see him still watching you, offering a soft smile and wave each time your gazes met again.

Then, there was the time you were inside his chicken coops with him, Changbin having taught you much about how to properly care for the animals in your time near him. And after weeks of observation, you wanted to help, to really try your hand at it! You did well, for the most part– your error came when trying to get a hen away from a freshly laid egg.

You tried your best to follow Changbin's instructions carefully, but still, your inexperience was greatly apparent, and you ended up upsetting the poor thing. When she flew up in protest, it startled you so much that you fell backwards. But Changbin caught you, one of his strong arms wrapped around your back and holding you upright as if you weighed nothing at all.

You blinked up at him in surprise, face growing red as he asked if you were alright, your heart unexpectedly pounding. You muttered out an apology, voice much meeker than you wanted it to be, but he simply smiled. He helped you steady yourself again to stand on your own, ensuring you that it wasn't your fault, and that he could tell you were genuinely trying your best.

"No one gets it right on their first try, don't be discouraged. You did good, sweetheart," he said, and the words somehow made your heart race faster, face growing even pinker. You were certain then– you liked him as much, much more than a friend.

You wanted him to always praise you, to console you, to call you sweetheart in a way beyond platonic. You wanted him to look at you romantically, to call you by such sweet names in a moment of love and passion.

When you returned home that day, lying in bed after finishing dinner and washing up, your thoughts were plagued by him– much more than they usually were, and in completely different contexts. How would his strong arms feel under your fingers while he held you up, supporting all of your weight as he took you in every way conceivable, across every surface of his home.

You'd had.. less than pure thoughts before of course, so it's not like this was new to you– what was new was having an explicit object of desire, someone you wanted to lie with, someone you imagined touching you everywhere. And you wanted to touch him too, to pleasure him in all the ways he'd surely pleasure you.

There were many times you watched him work, sweat collecting on his forehead, dripping down his brow, his breath growing heavier with labor, his broad chest rising and falling quickly with exertion– would he look the same atop you, under you?

You could imagine him, his body heavy between your legs, pressing you down against his mattress. And you could imagine him staring up at you, those same grunts of effort he makes while working pouring out for new reasons, for your hands all over him.

God, you were driving yourself crazy thinking about it. Changbin noticed, on another summer day where the sun was high and hot and leaving him sweatier than usual, that your face too was hot and red. What he didn't realize was that it was for reasons beyond that of the sun beaming down on you.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's go inside. It's hot out here, ain't it?" he'd said, deciding it was time, for both your sakes, to take a well deserved break. You agreed, thankful beyond words he thought it was simply the sun making you a heated mess, and not how absolutely divine he looked chopping wood in preperation for when the weather would change in a month.

You sat on his sofa together, sipping on lemonade he made himself by hand, thankful to be out of the unforgiving sun (and to have something to focus on besides how attracted you were to him.) "You seem to be thinkin' a lot. What's on your mind, darlin'?" Changbin asked after it was quiet for a time, your cup of lemonade held in your lap as you stared off at unfixed location.

"I've.. come to like you quite a lot more than I expected. As more than a friend, I think," you answered honestly, though you didn't expect him to do anything with your feelings.

While he was your first real connection with someone, you were sure he's lived a full, experienced life. You felt that there was no reason for him to like you as you like him, but still you told him. You already hid enough about your life from him, and you didn't want your thoughts and feelings to be another one of those things you keep from him.

"I'm fond of you too. More than a friend, and more than you probably know," he replied with a soft smile, setting his empty cup to the side. You blinked, cheeks turning pink as you practically gaped at him. "Do you mean that? Sincerely?" you asked, heart thumping loudly as you too carefully set your cup aside.

"I wouldn't lie to you darlin'. 'Specially not about matters of the heart," he responded earnestly, carefully moving closer to you. You met him halfway, slowly, your eyes timidly meeting his as his hand comes towards you, resting heavy but soft on your cheek.

"Tell me truly," he almost whispers, face coming close enough to yours to feel his breath tickle your skin, "Do you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you?"

"Yes," you breathed out, and not even a full second later, his lips were on yours, plush and soft, butterflies filling your stomach and truly, you couldn't ask for any greater joy than that moment.

You kissed a lot after that– in greeting and in parting, sweetly, slowly, carefully, sometimes even urgently, needily, passionately. You'd help him with as much of his daily work as you could manage, so he could finish faster and you could spend the rest of the afternoon holding one another close.

Hands exploring anywhere and everywhere, both eager, both seeking more and more and more. Both indulging in the feeling of not just pleasure, but of closeness, intimacy beyond just the physical, the love and care you share for one another.

But as quickly as your happiness was obtained, it was taken away; unbeknownst to you, on an afternoon in mid fall, shortly after breakfast, a knight had seen you squeezing through the hole in the castle's wall, eager to spend yet another day with Changbin. He didn't think you were sneaking out at first– he thought maybe he was just mistaken on what he saw.

But when he stepped over, and it became clear that you were now nowhere to be seen, he had to inform your mother, as was his duty. And there are truly no words to describe how devastated you felt when suddenly, as if from nowhere, countless knights were surrounding you, pleading with you to return to the castle, lest they have to drag you back by your mother's command.

It became a spectacle in the street, commoners whispering amongst themselves as they tried to piece together what they were witnessing. Was the sweet, smiley girl they’d seen exiting and returning to town everyday for months really the princess this entire time?

You felt as if your entire world was collapsing as they escorted you back home, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, knowing your mother would be positively furious when your eyes next met. But no, she wasn’t just furious– she was livid, the angriest you’d ever seen her in all your years.

You pleaded with her to understand, assured her that if you were truly going to run away from home and abandon your responsibility, then you wouldn’t have returned every single time you’d left. You didn’t want to be stuck here all day, every day, bored, alone, depressed, when there was an entire world out there to see, people to talk to, experiences to be had.

You’d do everything expected of you as a princess, and later as queen, but please– just this one thing, allow me this one thing. But no, your pleas fell on deaf ears, your mother completely dismissive of your feelings and unwilling to bend her iron rules.

And so you once again became a prisoner inside your own room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stared at the edge of town from your window, Changbin so near, yet impossibly far. Your mother didn’t know of him; you didn’t tell her, nor would you ever, as things stand now– but how you wished you could tell her, “I’ve found love, and now I understand how truly a magical thing it is. I don’t want this to be the end of my joy.” 

Weeks passed, and while the pain never left you, you learned to manage it well enough, hopeful that you’d be reunited with Changbin someday soon. But then you saw them– carpenters, working diligently to fill the hole in the castle walls that you had repeatedly used for your daily escapes.

The color drained from your face, your heart sinking into the very depths of your stomach. Your plan to simply be an obedient daughter long enough for your mother to lessen her watchful eyes on you, to one day again leave the castle once her constant vigil had relaxed, was being thwarted before it could ever truly begin. 

You anticipated to be in this act for the long haul, knowing very well it could take months, or even years, to rebuild your mother’s trust in you, but you’d never imagined she’d take away the very source of your hope mere weeks after confining you away to your room. To call a hole in the castle’s defenses your “hope” may seem foolish to most, but it was all you had– a symbol of escape, of life beyond these four walls that had become your permanent home. 

The day it was filled would be the day you’d lose everything; your freedom, your friendships, your joy, your hopes, your dreams, everything. Even as you are now, a canary trapped in her gilded cage, the promise that simple flaw in the walls gave you kept you going– the promise that someday, even if it was years and years from now, you’d be free again, doing what you loved most, being with who you loved most. 

You know your mother cares for you, she wants the best for you, and the loss of your father, the king, much too soon has deeply scarred her. She fears for you, she keeps you ever at arm’s length because she can’t bear for you to part from her, to leave her behind the way your father had, but surely this isn't the answer. Surely there was something better than this, something that didn’t necessitate you being a prisoner in your own home. 

Fear of loss and devastation ruled her life, made her trap you lest you decide to leave and never return, failing to realize that it was her very actions and treatment of you that gave those fears of hers room to become reality. But to know heartbreak is to know truest love, and even should loss plague your life, you will never regret having discovered love.

You had no desire to abandon your family, your kingdom, or run from your responsibilities, but if that was the only way to be free, if there was no other conceivable way to experience life’s joys and warmth, then.. What else was there for you to do?

Ironic, how your mother had unwittingly created a self-fulfilling prophecy when she forbade you from living a life of your own, her own actions resulting in the very outcome she feared most of all.

You have to do something, anything, now, before it’s too late, and you are left with nothing but the fleeting memories of the man you hold so dear. You bide your time, waiting until nightfall when the carpenters have left for the night to make your move.

Your mother has posted knights to the spot now, instructed to keep a watchful eye should you try again to leave the premises, but you think with the right timing, you can slip out unnoticed. There’s a small window of time where, when the knights standing guard rotate shifts, the hole in the castle’s walls will have no one standing in front of them.

It’s risky, and if you’re too slow you’ll be spotted by the new knights taking over for the ones who departed, but it’s the only chance you have, so you need to take it. As soon as the knights previously keeping watch over the area get far enough away, you dart for the breach in the castle.

The hole is definitely smaller than it was before, but you still manage to squeeze past just fine, with seconds to spare. You hear the sounds of the new knights approaching as you begin to sprint away, luckily having not noticed anything amiss.

The streets are much different at night, the subtle illumination from the candles in the surrounding buildings hardly enough to point you in the right direction. You look to the horizon instead, hoping that the dark line of trees on the horizon will be enough to guide you to the gate leaving town.

Some who notice your desperate run call out, concern evident in their voice, but you can’t stop for them, can’t stop until you’ve made it to Changbin’s side. And though it is not without struggle, you do, eventually, thankfully, find your way out of the town.

You’re panting, chest heaving as your heart pounds and your lungs desperately try to suck in air once you’ve made it completely outside the town gates– but still, you aren’t where you need to be, so you can’t stop yet. Pushing yourself to your very limits, even as your legs scream at you and harsh cold pricks your skin, you can finally make out Changbin’s land in the tree-lined horizon.

Reaching the gate to his property, you push it open in haste, taking hardly any steps past the threshold before you collapse to your knees, the ache and exhaustion refusing to be ignored any further. You bring a hand to your heart, taking a few seconds to calm yourself and breathe before you attempt to rise back to your feet.

But your legs refuse the action, much too weak to support you beyond what they’ve already done. It’s good enough, you suppose; they’ve carried far, with much more urgency than you’d ever thought possible. And now you’re right here, so close to where you need to be– and despite being a princess, you’re not above crawling your way over to Changbin’s door if you must.

Once more, you try– and though weak, and unsteady, you are able to rise once more. You can’t run, can hardly even walk as sore and as exhausted as your legs are, but they carry you as far as they can, recognizing the urgency you feel, aiding you as much as it can in your last, desperate effort.

Your throat is dry, it hurts, but you call out Changbin’s name regardless, hoping he’s awake, hoping he hears you, hoping he’ll wrap his arms around you, kiss you, console you, even if it’s just this one last time.

It’s been over a month since the last time Changbin saw you, and there’s so many questions he can’t help but ask himself, that he wishes he could ask you, so he didn’t spend all his hours distracted with worry and self-doubt. There had been gaps in the time you spent together before, but never for this large of a duration of time– a week usually at most.

Did he do something wrong the last time you were together? Or did your strict mother finally learn of your deceit, and now made you keep away, unable to return to his side though you may have wished to? He just wishes he knew for certain what it is, so that even if he was saddened, he did not have to have his mind consumed by what if’s and uncertainties.

There was a time, even, where he considered going into town and asking of you, but he was worried that doing so would only create more problems for you if the wrong person caught word of his inquiries. So all he could was wait– wait, and hope, that you would return again before year’s end, and that he would have the answers he so desperately craves to his questions.

Most of all, he just hopes you’re well; you’d expressed more than once that you loved your life and your family, you just didn’t want to feel trapped. You wanted to have choices, to feel like your thoughts and opinions matter, to be allowed to live as most other people do when they are not burdened with what their future will be.

Whenever you spoke of home, he always found it unfair, and he felt for you. You loved your mother, dearly, but he could see how you struggled with her rules, how sadness lingered in your eyes and resent bubbled up within you despite how you tried to not feel such things. 

And though he understood why you could not, he wished at times that you could simply stay with him– to not have to depart the moment the sun began to sink, to lie in bed with him all night, to have breakfast and dinner together, to live without worry together.

He’d work hard for you, even harder than he does now, and it’d be worth it to see you smile at him as you always do, so bright and full of light, keeping each other company on your loneliest days and nights. Changbin sighs, exhaustion plaguing him as he sits before the small fire he has going in his living room, head falling back against his sofa.

He hasn’t slept well these past few nights– he just can’t help but think of you at all hours, and every time he closes his eyes to sleep, he’s met with the image of you. It keeps him up, though not all his thoughts of you are plagued by unpleasant worry– sometimes it’s simply just the image of you smiling or laughing, and he feels nothing but warmth, even as he is reminded how much he truly misses you. 

Should you never return again, for whatever reason that may be, he doesn’t think he would ever regret having known you and given his love to you. Short-lived though your romance may be in the grand scheme of his life, and all the years he may be blessed to live, it was of the utmost importance.

He’d be remiss to let those memories become tarnished or devalued. You reminded him of how much joy there is in life, how grateful he is to have what he does, how much beauty there is in even the smallest of things. 

Another sigh leaves his lips as he lifts his head, rubbing carefully at his weary eyes– he should probably try to rest soon, though he feels sleep will likely stay out his reach for some time after his head hits the pillows. He stands from the sofa, preparing himself to extinguish the fire and head to bed, when he hears a strange, unfamiliar sound from outside his door.

A thud, almost– as if something with a not insubstantial amount of weight thumped to the ground. It couldn’t be his logs; he knew the sound of falling logs well enough to recognize the distinct sound made when one toppled– and often times when one fell, more followed.

This was unlike that entirely, only one sound followed by silence, and the sound itself was still too dense to be one of his pieces of chopped wood. The sound felt more.. concentrated; an animal perhaps? And if it was an animal, he couldn’t let it go ignored– especially not if it was one of his own. 

As Changbin steps closer to his door to investigate the sound, he hears something else entirely unexpected– a frail voice.. your voice..? Rushing to his door now, he opens it in haste, eyes darting to find the source of what he heard. And there, he sees you, collapsed to the ground before him, looking up at him with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and anguish.

Your name leaves him in a gasp as he leans down to you, concern evident in his voice and expression. His hands reach out to touch you and shit, your body is freezing; you are woefully ill dressed for the late fall chill, and who knows how long you’ve been out in it with nothing but your dress. 

Quickly, he picks you up, carrying you inside and using his foot to kick the door shut behind him. “Just sit here a minute,” he says as he sits you down on the sofa, rushing to his room to grab all the blankets and pillows he can carry.

He prepares a sort of makeshift bed on the floor in front of the fireplace, laying down all the blankets and pillows he collected, his intention being to have you lay by the fire and spread some much needed warmth through your chilled body. Changbin scoops you back up when he’s satisfied with his work, very carefully laying you down a close (yet safe) distance to the fire, nestling beside you after and laying an additional blanket over your bodies.

He has so many questions, his mind is racing, but they can wait– making sure you’re not going to suffer frostbite is of much more importance. He lets you use him for warmth, not complaining a bit when your cold limbs tangle with his, letting you sap his warmth and take it for your own. 

He brings his hands to your face, warming your cold cheeks in his palms, looking you over carefully. You looked unhurt, thankfully– he has no idea what you’ve gone through, but he’s glad you’re here now, and looking well, all things considered.

“Do you want to tell me what’s happened?” he asks softly, pushing the fallen hair away from your eyes, letting him meet your gaze without obstruction. You swallow down your bubbling emotion, wanting to be clear and concise, to leave no room for confusion or error. 

“My mother is very strict, as you know.. She enforced her rules more harshly after she discovered how I’d been spending my time. I had to sneak out again just to be here,” you answer, and his brows furrow.

“Again..? Have you been sneaking out to see me all this time?” he asks, and you nod, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Changbin knew your mother had strict rules, he knew she didn’t approve of her daughter meeting with those of lower class, but that wasn’t the extent of it? 

This whole time, he thought your lie to your mother was simply that you exited town– not that you left home entirely. He was under the impression that you were still allowed out on the streets, at the very least; not that you were caged up inside all day like some sort of bird. But this.. This was outrageous, cruel. To not let your daughter out of the house at all? That’s what you’d been dealing with this entire time? 

Relationships with parents are complex, but he almost can’t even believe you still love her after all this, that you still want to uphold whatever ambitions it is that she has for you; if it were him, he doesn’t think he could stand it. He followed in his parents footsteps because he wanted to, not because he was forced to.

And he doesn’t imagine you’d be much different from him in that regard. Naive though you may be at times, you had a strong sense of responsibility, and were intelligent in matters he was clueless on, a completely different kind of intellect from his own. Surely she didn't have to be so strict with you.

“You can stay with me,” he wants to say, “I’ll never make you do a single thing you don’t want to do, you’ll always be respected and happy.” But he knows you’d refuse, your sense of pride in yourself and responsibility simply too strong to abandon just because of one obstacle, harsh though that obstacle may be.

In equal measure, you don’t think you could ever ask him to stay with you. How much would he have to give up to be with you? You don’t want to ask that of him– to make him give up his home and all he holds dear just to be stuck in the castle with you. He doesn’t even know you’re the princess in the first place.

And though you love him, it’s painfully apparent that you’re in two separate worlds that may not be destined to converge though you wish them to. “I don’t want this to be the end,” you say, hot tears finally starting to fall as you the emotion unleashes itself from the depths of where you’d pushed them down, “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

God, Changbin feels like his heart is shattering. It’s so painful to see you reduced to this, you who is always so bright and vibrant in her joy, brought low to tears and heartache. Why must you endure this? Does your mother truly not understand how much pain she causes you but not allowing you to simply live?

“Don’t think like that. If you say it’s the end, then it will be,” he whispers, the pain in his own voice evident despite how he tries to hide it behind a mask of strength for your sake. The tears flow from your eyes and you let him rub them away with his thumb, let him fill your head with impossible, sweet promises.

Your whole life was clouded in dreadful, dreary rain, and there’s nowhere you wanted to be more after the rain cleared than with Changbin. What a ray of sunshine he was, even without intending to be– the light that illuminated your otherwise dark existence. And how painful it was to know that come morning, it would all become nothing but a memory from your youth. 

You lean forward to kiss him, tears continuing to leak from the corners despite having your eyes closed now. You want to tell him you love him, but you fear that saying so will only make the act of parting that much harder and painful.

You fear that no matter how much time passes, the name of your first love will forever be written in your heart, that you will never stop loving him even should you lead lives separate from one another. And still, you have no regrets, because for a time you felt truest joy and love, and what a gift it was to share with him. 

Taking his hands from your face, he pulls you closer, your entangled limbs being woven together more complexly, your torsos now completely flushed to one another. His arms wrap around and hold you tight, as if lessening his hold on you would cause you to dissipate.

And you will disappear, but not now– not while he has you like this, not when you are where you long to be most. Your tears slow, eventually receding completely as your lips touch. If this is truly your last moment together, you have decided you will not spend it wallowing in sorrow– you will enjoy all you can, you will memorize every detail, you will etch it in your very soul.

“Are you warm enough?” Changbin asks after he separates from you, though still close enough that his breath lingers on your lips. “Could be warmer,” you answer and he chuckles softly, kissing you again, his hands roaming down the expanse of your body, to your hips. 

“Want me to add more to the fire?” he asks, a playful lilt in his voice as he knows that’s not what you’re insinuating. While you normally speak quite openly and honestly, you become.. meek within intimate moments.

Changbin always finds it incredibly cute, how you dance around what you mean, waiting for him to get the hint and give you what you want. He always gets the hint, but it’s adorable to see your blush grow hotter, to see you stumble with your words when he plays dumb about what you mean, or purposely misunderstands just to make you state what you want clearly. 

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt, but..” you trail off, chewing on your lip nervously as you meet his eyes again. He raises his brow but says nothing, smiling patiently as he waits for you to speak your mind. It makes the blush on your face flare, how he always waits for you to say it directly when you want to be intimate with him.

However, he doesn’t intend to waste too much time making you flustered like this; it’s just.. If this is the last time like you seem to believe, then he wanted to see it again now, before the opportunity was lost to him. 

“I’ve missed you a lot, you know. I want you to touch me,” you finally answer and his smile brightens, furthering the embarrassment you feel as heat rushes to your face. But better than being cold like you were earlier, you suppose; maybe you should welcome the way his reaction makes you feel, since it never fails to make your face and body hot.

“You missed me, darlin’? I missed you too,” he smiles, kissing your face, your lips, your jaw, your neck, “thought about you every damn day.” His low voice near your ear makes you shudder, his soft kisses down your neck, to your shoulder, furthering the feeling.

You never let him mark your skin, afraid of what consequences would come from your mother finding out what you’d been doing, but you’re tempted to let him tonight– if you’re going to be punished regardless, why not be selfish, go out with a display?

“Binnie, leave a mark on me, please,” you shamelessly plead, calling his name in the way you know he loves to hear you speak. Changbin lifts his head from your shoulder, meeting your gaze with uncertain excitement. God, he’d love to, but..

“Are you certain? What of your mother?” he asks carefully, pushing your hair behind your neck to expose more of your skin. He may be apprehensive out of concern, but the minute you make it clear you have no reservations, he’s obliging without restraint, giving you everything you ask– anything you want, you’ll have it. 

“I don’t care what she thinks anymore, I want her to know that I.. have someone I love,” you answer sincerely, and he smiles, his heart feeling like it’s expanding in size. “You love me?” he asks, and you return his smile as you nod, because though you were scared to tell him, you are glad you did. His reaction to the information was completely worth it, his eyes sparkling with deep emotion and fondness for you. 

“I love you too. More than you probably know,” he says, mirroring what he said when he confessed that he liked you too, and he lets you pull him into a kiss, your affection radiating. There’s a soft giggle that escapes him, not being able to help how giddy your love makes him feel, how you love him despite what people in your life expect from you.

If he could, he’d assure them all how well he’d take care of you, how he’d make sure you never suffered a day in your life because of him. He suspects your mother doesn’t care much about your happiness, but if she did, if she gave him the chance to prove it, he wouldn’t rest until he gave you the entire world, until she could see your love as true. 

You lay your head back to the pillows, tilting it comfortably so that Changbin has more access to your skin. His breath warms you, and you all but tremble with anticipation when you feel his lips on you again, knowing your skin will finally bear his mark after all this time.

You’ve seen such a mark briefly on your maids that you know to have lovers, how they try to hide them with their hair or makeup, the sort of shame and embarrassment they feel when they realize you’ve noticed it. You will have no such shame; you will wear them proudly, in a show that is simultaneously of love and rebellion.

"I have and I know love, and that is all that matters." And people will certainly have opinions, but you’ve sacrificed enough to them. If there is only one day you can live selfishly for the rest of your life, you want it to be this day; and even as the marks fade, they will serve as a reminder of what you once had. 

He plants open mouthed kisses to your neck, the feeling of his tongue and teeth grazing you adding to the anticipation you feel. Your fingers tangle in his dark, unruly curls, as he carefully, almost gently, sucks and bites at your supple skin, leaving behind a string of beautiful, red, blue, and purple bruises.

There’s a tinge of pain, yes, but the excitement grows beyond the subtle sting, transforming it almost entirely into pleasure. When Changbin’s finished with one side, he lies you on your back and does the same to the other, your eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head for him to have more room to work.

You unintentionally tug on his hair when his teeth meet a particularly sensitive spot, and you would’ve apologized had he not groaned in delight from the feeling. You learned something new about him every time you were intimate, and this discovery in particular had your stomach flipping.

“Want you to take it off,” he mumbles in reference to your dress, pulling at the fabric that had begun to bunch up at your thighs. You hum, detangling your hand from his hair and letting him sit up, watching as he lifts his own shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside.

In all the times you’ve seen Changbin’s skin bare, you never stopped being amazed at how divine he looked. He was so big and strong, it always left you breathless, his cute, soft stomach a direct contrast from the bulk in his arms and chest. And then there was the small patch of hair that led from his belly button to the waistband of his trousers that always left you hungry to see the rest of him. 

Still feeling a bit weak from your exertion prior, you ask Changbin to help you remove your dress, which he is more than happy to do. He’s careful with the fabric, though you’ve decided you don’t care about it at this particular moment, and he sets it aside with much more care than he did his own clothing. What a gentleman he is, you think, taking the extra time to care for your clothes even when he’s met with you bare before him.

Well, not entirely bare– you still have your undergarments on, and after deciding you’d see Changbin today no matter what, you purposely wore your prettiest pair. A beautiful, intricate and delicate white lace, one you might aspire to wear on your wedding night. He looks you over in awe, taking in all your details. You were always beautiful, but your choice in clothing somehow enhances it, drives his excitement even further. 

“Fuck, you’re stunning. How did I get so lucky?” Changbin questions aloud and you smile, a soft giggle escaping you as he leans back down to kiss you. “Take your pants off too, otherwise it isn’t fair,” you playfully complain and he grins, letting out a giggle of his own as lifts himself back up.

“Maybe I spoil you too much, giving you everything you want so easily,” he responds to your complaint with one of his own, trying not to smile so that he appears serious– though you are easily able to read that he’s playing around, just as you were. 

“You give me everything I want because I’m a good girl for you though, right?” you ask and he whines audibly; you admitted early on in your sexual relationship that you were curious about being called such things. When he tried it out, it was discovered that he liked saying it just as much as you liked being called it.

It’s not just saying it to you that he likes either– hearing you call yourself one, saying it’s just for him.. that’s what really gets him going. And while he doesn’t want to be presumptuous and say you belong to him, especially not after all you’ve suffered through, he definitely belongs to you.

You don’t anticipate Changbin pulling his underwear down with his trousers, but the sight of his cock is never unwelcome. It’s already hard and leaking, and when he leans down to you once again, you can feel it pressing against your bare thigh, smearing its fluid on your skin. It always excites you how hard he gets from your body, always enjoyable watching him get riled up just from looking at you bare or from saying a few sweet words. 

“You’re dangerous,” he says with a small huff, and before you can come back with more words to make his cock throb, he’s kissing you again, this time with much less softness, quickly shoving his tongue past your lips.

You welcome it, opening your mouth for him, letting his tongue lick yours. The feeling always makes you light-headed in the most delicious way possible– it’s intoxicating to put it simply, and you would kiss him for hours and hours if given the chance. 

His hands come to your bra, unhooking it easily after all the practice he’s had, and though he could easily toss it aside, he breaks away long enough to set it down gently. You giggle at how he’s still treating your clothes with care even while this hard and eager, but that’s what makes you love him so much.

Returning to your mouth, he nips and sucks at your bottom lip, and you mewl at the sting, which Changbin always gladly soothes with his tongue before repeating. His fingers roll, pinch, and tug your nipples, not too hard, but enough to have you whining and squeezing your legs together.

They were always so sensitive in Changbin’s rough, calloused hands, and there were times you felt you could cum simply from the stimulation of them alone– especially when he used his mouth at the same time. And he did just that when he pulled away to stop kissing you, though not right away.

He kissed all over your chest, leaving love bites and sucking small, almost delicate bruises onto the sensitive skin of your breasts, not yet touching your nipples with his tongue and teeth. You told him to mark you, and it seems he was determined to do it everywhere– not that you had any objections. It was a bit strange, seeing your chest bitten and the color of your flesh changed, but you equally enjoyed it, loved the physical proof that Changbin was on you. 

When his tongue finally swirled around one of your nipples, you let out a breathy moan that quickly turned into a drawn out whimper when he used his teeth. He made sure not to hurt you too overtly, to just give you enough of that sweet sting you found so enticing and pleasurable, and in return you gave him that same delicious feeling by tugging on his hair every time you felt good. 

Your panties were soaked by the time he stopped giving your breasts attention, and though you hadn’t reached your peak from the stimulation, you felt so close. Resuming his path down your body, Changbin’s cock throbs and twitches when he’s met with evidence of your excitement, your white panties darkened by how damp they’ve become.

He doesn’t pull them down right away– he kisses your legs first, and then your thighs, leaving behind the same kisses and marks he gave to your chest and neck. Your inner thighs are especially sensitive, and it causes you to jolt and whine when he sinks his teeth into the meat of them.

He’s got you so impossibly worked up, you feel like you could cry when he finally gives your neglected heat the attention it craves. He praises you before he slides your panties down your legs, and there’s a relieved sort of noise coming from your throat that makes Changbin chuckle. 

You keen when his tongue finally slips between your folds, licking and sucking up everything you have to offer him. There’s an enthusiastic hum that leaves his lips when your fingers tangle in his hair again, followed by a moan when you pull and tug. Your legs are trembling and twitching so much, constantly threatening to close around his head, that he has to push them down to keep you how he wants you.  

It’s when his tongue meets your clit that you really start to lose yourself, your hips jolting up and back arching, legs quivering when he wraps his lips around it and sucks. You’re panting, begging him for more, incoherently mumbling and babbling about how close you are, and within seconds you’re seeing white, eyes rolling back as further arousal gushes on his face.

He licks your release up with another eager hum, dragging out the feeling until you’re a quivering, overstimulated mess beneath him. You release your hold on his curls when you finally come down from your high and your body relaxes, opening your eyes to see Changbin grinning at you, evidently proud of the fact that he got you to cum so intensely.

He kisses you softly, quick and chaste, not trying to hinder you from taking any of the breaths you need, just wanting to show his affection. “What do you want next, darlin’? Since I’m givin’ you everything you want,” he asks, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he awaits your answer.

“W-Want to be on top but.. I’m still feeling pretty weak. Especially after that,” you reply with a slight blush, and he giggles again, cooing at you as if you’re just so sweet and cute (and to be fair, you are– you always will be, at least to him.)

“S’okay sweetheart, I can help you,” Changbin says sweetly, giving you one more kiss before he’s lying down on the makeshift bed and pulling you on top of him. Your legs are on either side of them, his hands on your hips, looking up at you with pure affection. 

“This good? Comfortable?” he asks, and you hum with a nod, smiling just a bit as you lean down to kiss him again. Normally, given how thick he is, Changbin would prep you before having you take his cock, but given how wet and excited you are, he doesn’t think the prep is as necessary (and you might not be patient enough for it after all the build up to this point regardless.)

He helps you line yourself up with his cock, both of you letting out your own shaky noises as you sink down on him. “Atta girl, keep goin’, just like that, sit on me all the way,” he encourages you, and you do just as he asks.

Your hands tightly gripping his biceps to ground and support yourself as you sit flush with his body, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his. He rubs your thighs and legs, trying to show soothing affection as you adjust and settle, listening attentively to all the trembling exhales and noises you make. 

You look so beautiful atop him, illuminated in the gentle, warm glow of the fireplace, your hair having fallen in a way that messily, yet somehow perfectly, frames your face. He can see everything– your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, beautifully painted with all the marks he left behind. You can feel him twitching and throbbing inside you, but he doesn’t rush you along, lets you take all the time you need. 

You feel him twitch again when you lean down to kiss him, and it’d make you giggle if it also didn’t make a wave of pleasure shoot through your body. You move your hands to his chest to support your own weight better, rolling your hips as you coax your tongue into his mouth.

He lets out a moan from deep in his chest as you move, his tongue wasting no time in meeting and dancing with yours, his fingers squeezing at the already tender meat of your thighs. You lift yourself back up to begin moving in earnest, your hands still planted firmly on his chest for support as you slide yourself up and down his length.

The slow pace, while it still feels good, isn’t enough for either of you, and soon enough you find yourself practically bouncing on his cock, the sound of your thighs repeatedly slapping down on his echoing into the room. Changbin curses, biting his lip as he watches you, using his hands to help guide you up and down, trying to ease some of the ache in your legs. 

He thrusts upward into you when your pace starts to stutter and lose rhythm, and you gasp, eyes rolling back as he hits the perfect spot again and again. It reaches a point where his hands simply hold you in the right place while he exerts all his effort, feet planted firmly on the ground while he does all the work from below. Your nails dig into his skin, head falling back as you feel your release building up again. 

Changbin effortlessly flips your positions, though he is careful not to hurt you in his haste. He just wants to make you fall apart again, and it’s easier to do that if he doesn’t have to control your movements– just his own. He resumes the pace he held from below, bringing two of his fingers to your clit and rubbing in quick circles, unable to help the way he moans when he feels you clench around him even tighter in response. 

“B-Bin, please, Binnie, so close,” you babble and whine, your hands twisting the blankets beneath you. “I know sweetheart, let go, be a good girl and give it to me,” he grunts out, and again, you feel white hot pleasure coursing through your veins, your vision blurring and mind growing fuzzy as you let go.

“Good girl, just a little more, just need you to hang on for a little more,” he both instructs and praises, pulling out just long enough to flip you to your stomach, pushing back into your heat just as quickly as he left it. You whimper loudly, fingers clutching desperately at the pillow your head rests on, Changbin bringing a hand around your body to lift your hips ever so slightly.

He was hitting your spot deliciously from this angle, the pleasure so great that tears once again pricked the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall with each gasp and whimper you released. You turn your head back as much as you can, delighted in the visage of Changbin’s head thrown back in pleasure, 

He always got rougher when he started to get close, his hands always tightening their grip, his thrusts, while growing less rhythmic, became harsher and faster, almost desperate, and it was always a treat to experience. You loved watching him lose himself to the pleasure, loved that it was you and your body that brought him there, loved how his grunts and moans transformed into higher pitched whimpers and whines. 

You bring your own fingers to your clit, wanting to let him enjoy and focus on his release since he already spent so much time on your pleasure. He leans forward, his chest pressed into your back, his hot breath hitting your ear, his whines and praises pouring directly into it.

“Fuck, sweetheart, feel so good, ‘m gonna- fuck, gonna fill you up,” he stammers out, and it sends a shiver down your spine, your stomach erupting in countless butterflies, driving you to speed up the motion of your fingers. 

You release again with a strangled cry, gushing around his length and on your fingers. Changbin follows closely behind, the feeling of you clenching and squeezing around him as you cum for the third time sending him over his peak. He releases in long, drawn out spurts, both of you breathless and exhausted when he collapses next to you.

You both know you should get cleaned up, but you’re both too tired to care, and he can always clean up his messes in the morning. For now, he just wants to stay close, here in front of the fire, with you. This very well could be your last night together, but he doesn’t want to believe it is. He wants to believe that the two of you can find a solution somehow, that after all the hardship, you’ll be smiling at him in the end.

There’s a part of you that doesn’t even want to fall asleep at all– you want to stay up all night, to not waste a single moment you have left, to stare and feel and love until the very last second, so that you’ll remember him clearly always. You do your best to not become teary eyed again, having promised yourself you wouldn’t spend your night with him wrapped up in your sorrow and dread.

But oh, how you wish there was more time, how you wish that your mother would understand you, that you could have just this one thing. But you suppose for a girl with immense responsibility, happiness is too much to ask for. You sacrifice your happiness so that others may have it instead– as noble an act as any, but you selfishly wish you could have both; the people’s happiness and your own. 

The idea of running away still leaves you torn, even after all this time. You don’t want to let anyone down.. but still, you have to ask yourself, is doing what’s right for your kingdom and future worth all this heartache? If it’s what is right, why does it make your heart feel as if it’s been shattered like glass? You’ve been told in life that the right thing to do is never the easiest, but you can’t imagine that in this case, walking away from either side is right. 

You want both. Is that truly so wrong? You want to be a ruler worthy of her name and title, and you want Changbin. Why must you choose one over the other? As far as you’re aware, even now, Changbin doesn’t know you’re the princess.

He’ll likely find out soon– every knight in the town will be floundering to find you come morning, once they realize you’re gone. You should slip away before then, lest your lover be met with undue scrutiny and unfair treatment from your mother and other nobles if you're found here. 

But looking at him now, even still.. you don’t want to leave. You’ll never want to leave. “Sweetheart,” Changbin calls softly, his hand reaching up to leave comforting, lingering touches to your head. “I can tell what you’re thinkin’. But don’t be sad yet, not ‘til we’ve said goodbye.”

You blink away the accumulating tears with a nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat the best you can and burying your face into Changbin’s welcoming body. You’re so, so tired, and you know he is too, but he’s trying his best for you. And he’s being the strong one despite how much his heart aches with yours.

He rubs your head, kisses your temple, tells you he loves you. Your heart breaks and mends all at once; how bittersweet this moment is.. If you’re lucky, you'll have about 7 hours until anyone realizes you’re gone. Maybe you can sleep for just a few, just enough to get some of this ache out of your body, and then you can spend the rest with Changbin. 

You’ll cry, you know, as soon as you depart back home. You’ll cry when the hole in the castle’s defenses is completely sealed. You’ll cry when you look to the fields his home sits on from the bedroom window. Still.. you do your best to uphold your promise to yourself, and now to Changbin.

You won’t cry, and you won’t be upset– not yet, anyways. Not until you’ve actually parted ways. For now, you’ll continue to lie in his arms, continue to express your love for him, continue to smile and laugh as if this isn’t the end, until morning comes and reminds you painfully that it is. 

How beautiful it was to love Seo Changbin, to learn and to grow and to really live with his help, patience, and care. How fondly you’ll miss him in every moment, how lovingly you’ll always hold his memory. Brief though your love together is, much shorter than it should have been, it has changed you for the better, and you’ll never regret it, even should your heart ache.

And maybe Changbin is right; maybe there is room for hope, and maybe you’ll see each other again much sooner than you allow yourself to think. But no matter what lies before you, there is one thing for certain; Changbin is and always be will your first love, forever be etched in your heart– your lover, your deepest connection, your closest confidant. And how grateful you are to have known him.

[sillyunknownkitkat]

𝓣𝓸𝓴𝓪𝔂𝓪𝓶𝓲 𝓕𝓾𝓶𝓲𝓴𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝔁 𝓫𝓾𝓫𝓫𝓵𝔂!𝓰𝓸𝓽𝓱! 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

Tw : fem!reader, piercings, makeup, very vague description of gore, just fluff tbh

This was requested, but tumblr decided to screw my drafts up :( But hey, the staff is working on it!

When if first sees you, he's quite curious.

For the sake of this, we're going to say that UA allows piercings and makeup.

I definitely think Mina would talk to you! Like this girl probably loves fashion and alternative style

She'd probably ask you how you do your makeup, what products you use, is it easy to take it off,...

And he wasn't doing it on purpose but he listened to your conversation with her

And when he hears you talk, he feels his heart skip a beat. How could you have such a dark aesthetic but still be so bubbly?

Naturally, he's drawn out by your style but your personality?????? bonus points bby

You have to take the first step because this boy is quite reserved.

After a while, you both become close friends. Not only do you guys share the same aesthetic (well he doesn't really dress up goth but yk) but you guys have the perfect releshionship

Like moon and sun, black cat and golden retriever, ....

He can't help but slowly fall in love with you, I mean you treat him like a normal human being, heck you're so nice to him

Look at him and try to tell me he wasn't bullied of something because of his head. Kids are fucking mean man.

So when you're actually willing to spend time with him and listen to everything he has to say? He melts.

From personal experience, when you don't talk about the stuff you like because people don't care, when you find someone you can't stop talking about it.

He was really embarrassed the first time it happened and kept apologizing. Of course, you told him that he didn't need to apologize and that you were actually really enjoying hearing him talk. Give him some feedback on what he said and he's (a bit shyly) continuing the conversation.

I think that he would tell you that he loves you by accident.

Like picture this :

You're both sitting on his bed, sharing goth music that you like, and he just looks at you lovingly before muttering under his breath. "You're amazing ____, I love you so much..."

So you stop in the middle of your sentence and look at him with a big smile and say "I love you too Tokoyami."

He doesn't move for a while, not believing what just happened. When he gains back his composure, he just smiles a bit, tears of happiness forming in his eyes, and takes your hands in his before asking you out on a date.

Now, let's get to the actual relationship headcanons :)

HE. IS. A. GENTLEMAN.

Always offers you help when you seem like you might need it, praises your work, listens to everything you have to say, ....

He also writes poems for you. At first, he would just leave them on your bed for you to find them, but after a while, he reads them to you.

So, while I know he's not an actual bird, I think he has some instincts.

Like he brings you shiny things as gifts. Please don't point it out because he will get embarrassed about it.

He also coos when you guys hug, cuddle, ...

Loves when you pet Dark Shadow, I feel like some people are scared of them/it, but seeing you so happy and relaxed makes him really happy :)

He's a sucker for physical affection. I don't think he ever got a lot, so he does take steps by steps but truly adores every moment of it.

Once he's got comfortable, he is a bit clingy. Not in a bad way at all!

I think he'd prefer if you're releshionship stays secret. It's not that he's embarrassed or anything but 1A is really noisy

Love to go on dates with you. While he prefers to be In calmer places, with less people, he's open to whatever you want to do

May or May not try ritual with you :3 but that's only for my crazy girlies lol

He's a simple man, as long as he's with you he's happy

That's it :) sorry if I didn't really go onto the bubbly aspects, since I'm not like that at all I had a bit of a hard time writing it 😅

I love Tokoyami, he's so under rated :(

have a great day/night and be safe everyone <3

[yanderestarangel]

☆Yandere Adler russell x reader☆ Concept - friends with benefits<3

Tw: Yandere themes, adult content, abusive relationship, profanity, mention of sex and dark relationship, age gap.

Adler didn't like the idea at first, let's face it, Russell is a man considered "straight" by standards. Meaning he still likes to keep labels, he really wants to know what the two of you are about not just some vague or some modern aspect.

But he accepts it for you, he's both in love and lost in his sick, messed up thoughts.

(Besides the midlife crisis lol)

The two of you start hanging out more than you used to, Adler always shows you off to everyone with pride, but you notice little red flags in this, like, Russell being extremely jealous to see you talking very nice to someone else or him lying about what you two are.

"- Are you dating now?" Asks Park, smiling amusedly, drinking a shot of vodka while the background music from the bar continued at the same pace. "- Yes"- Russell replies grabbing you and smiling looking at your face, soon seeing you walk away from him smiling at the woman and saying a "-No." After vaguely explaining the two of you's relationship, you could have sworn you saw Adler's facade darkly shift as he slammed the glass a little too hard on the table in front of him. Episodes like this weren't all that rare, Adler started off mildly, saying that he accepted just being "friends with benefits."

You at first thought it was just good sex and pampering or expensive dinners and the man's company being pleasant, but that all started to change when Adler became more possessive.

You tried to ignore it, he was a gentleman, he offered you his warm leather jacket when it was cold.

He always paid the restaurant bill even if you said he didn't have to.

He would give you gifts that you had vaguely mentioned or that he himself saw you looking at.

He took you to the best parties he could, even though he didn't like most of them, he loved seeing you happy watching that show you wanted so much.

Or when he offered to take you on a not so dangerous mission in a country you always wanted to visit.

You knew the shit Adler did, but it was none of your business.

Many times when it was a very dangerous mission he always warned you in two ways:

1- left a message on your cell phone, something like: "Hey my beautiful thing, I need to do something today, I'm going to another country, I don't know when I'll be back but I promise to try to bring you a present, take care and stay well please ." or a phone call well before you go.

2- He would go an hour before going to your house, most of the time it was at dawn, and he would honk at your door or he himself would enter your house waking you up and saying sweetly that he needed to go, but he would come back for you.

He made you the happiest person in the world. But it didn't take away some fights you had.

Most happened because of jealousy and possession, Russell would ask passively but aggressively, who was the guy you talked so much on the phone, you said smiling a little too brightly that it was a colleague, someone younger than him but older than you.

He would look over your conversations without you even knowing and any flirting he would explode. He won't scream or hit you, Russell prefers to get your psychological.

He will ignore you and make you feel guilty or lampoon you for talking to someone else so intimately.

If you just say you're sorry and stop talking to the guy he'll hug you sweetly telling you that's all you need.

If you affront him and tell him the two of you just fuck and hook up sometimes he'll really explode, it'll be the first and only time you'll ever see Russell mad.

He will point a finger in your face telling you how much he loved you and how anyone wouldn't treat him the way he does and would just fuck you up and throw you away.

That would create a fight between you and Mason or Woods would have to be between the two of you, mostly holding Adler and trying to calm his friend down.

They'd send you away saying you were up to no good and you'd leave Adler high for hours.

Adler would go after his "colleague" but he wouldn't kill him, no no Y/N, he would threaten him and tell him to exclude you from every network of contacts possible and that if he even smelled him he would be a dead man.

Well, he really pulled away from you. After a while you and Adler would start talking again, he would apologize to you for being so selfish and would try to manipulate you into being with him again... What would work.

He would also manipulate your emotions, leading you to believe he was the best you could ever have, a powerful man and all your own.

Yandere Russell gets worse after you make a relationship with him official, taking away everything.

Freedom and autonomy. You would live with him in a nice house and be what you were born to be... Privately owned by Adler Russell, America's monster<3

[tomwambsgans]

tomgreg wedding would for sure not be very big. tom is a Wedding Guy but he also already did the Huge wedding and it did not turn out great. and there's no benefit this time to making it basically this massive public event that includes all their colleagues. even just taking all the people that tom may know as vague acquaintances through his career or from college, i feel like he would be hesitant to get all those people to come to another wedding, where this time he's marrying the previous bride's cousin. even if it wasn't a gay wedding, that's just so fucking messy and un-self-aware lol

so no, it could not be nearly as huge. but at the same time, they fs do not want it to look comparatively like they're eloping. it's got to still be a nice venue and a serious event. they're not trying to hide. both tom and greg DO want to show off how happy they are together, and to make this a point of very seriously and publicly declaring commitment and love. just also, it has to be careful because of tom's previous wedding.

inviting the roys would def be a huge discussion for them bc obviously it would be awkward as fuck for them to be there, but also by the time they're getting married it's certainly not a secret. shiv being there would be deeply awkward but not inviting her, if her brothers were, would seem targeted. i can't imagine a world tbqh where shiv becomes remotely supportive of tomgreg so honestly she probably wouldn't even WANT to come, so it's just a matter of appearances with the invitations, but they gotta account for how likely it is that any of the roys will call their bluff and actually come. roman is very likely to fuck shit up on purpose. shiv might even, too. kendall would care much less about tomgreg and more about tom being ceo, which would sour things for him. but personally I also think it's likely tom will stop being ceo and go on to do something more fulfilling some years post-finale, so maybe it would fine on that front. i imagine tom getting gerri and karolina to give him the rundown on exactly how public his and greg's relationship is, what the optics are, and what could happen to the company were they to get married... and perhaps, using the information he gets as an excuse to try to get out asap. but anyway connor and willa are definites, of course.

basically my thinking is that no matter what, the tomgreg wedding is getting pushed way out in the future just to make sure it doesn't look to the public like tom is remarrying super fast. it IS supposed to be a publicization of their relationship but they don't want their wedding to seem like it's for the whole world, so there's some amount of disregard that they need to have for the public eye, too. they're not trying to show off bc they don't want it to be reminiscent of the tomshiv wedding, but they do absolutely NEED it to be decadent. they don't want it to seem at all performative but it also can't seem too obviously like they're trying not to.

anyway with all this in mind i'm gonna go through each (main) potential tomgreg wedding venu and their pros and cons but also just how they might go

rome

for obvious reasons it has personal significance to them, and having their wedding at a place like that would reinforce that this is a personal event that just happens to be public. it would give the excuse for an explicitly ancient roman Theme, at least vaguely, since the venue itself would certainly have actual ancient architecture. i love to imagine the custom suits they'd certainly commission, the red and gold and white, and the inevitability of rings engraved with nero and sporus too. the main con here, of course, would be how on the nose it all is. i can imagine tom deciding that it's too much and would maybe in fact be bringing too much of their personal history out into the open. maybe they'd prefer that that stay between them.

elsewhere in italy

there's a ton of appealing wedding venues all throughout italy, including places that are not rome but still related to nero and sporus, but my main thought tbqh is how they related to wine. i've fully settled by now into the headcanon that tom and greg start running a winery at some point post-series, so that tom gets to have a more satisfying version of his metaphorical wine baby with greg. i've mentioned it before but as someone in the liquor business with a not insignificant stint in wine-tasting, i think what would fit them best is a cab franc. therefore they'd most likely be staying in the northeast of italy to do that. and obviously that doesn't mean their wedding would have to be in the same place, but it would be neat if having the wedding there doubled as them checking out the area. this could also put them around Lake Como, which was a place tom expressed interest in when discussing wedding venues with shiv, so. at the same time, knowing he explicitly mentioned it to shiv does feel like a downside. just bc i don't thing the tomgreg wedding would/should be remotely a redo of the tomshiv wedding.

st. paul, minnesota

it's funny, i knew about lake como in st. paul before i knew about como lake in italy. it would be a really fun little twist if that was the como that tom at which wound up having the actual wedding with the love of his life, specifically in his home town, too, to bring it home that greg understands who tom really is. the biggest downside of st. paul, imo, is also simultaneously an upside -- that the venue would be small. so they maybe wouldn't get to have much decadence, BUT they'd be trading that for the excuse to keep it small. as in, the excuse of family. of course it's contentious exactly how supportive of the wedding tom's extended family and old friends would actually be... though I think that if nothing else, they might come for the fact of his success. and those would be the exact people that tom would love to prove his happiness to.

old new york

this is the setting that i honestly think tom would have chosen for his first wedding if it were up to him. like, put up against lake como i imagine him taking a minute to waffle but ultimately deciding on this. once again the tomgreg wedding shouldn't be a redo of tomshiv, but this in particular is just SO tom. and also, i think, the last one that shiv would have chosen. for tom, nyc was a lifelong aspiration, and for shiv it's nothing. having like a 1940s nyc ball-style wedding is probably tom's dream, and i imagine greg having similar lingering awe about that whole vibe. biggest downside is how much more likely it is for it to get trashed, either by roys (cough cough roman) or by people who hold some kind of grudge re: ATN. but good security would probably render that null anyway.

cruise ship

biggest upside is that it would once again be an excuse for the wedding to be relatively small. and narratively it's a fun way to bring it back home to their beginnings in Parks & Cruises... and for that same reason probably not a great idea? like realistically, it's maybe playing with fire a bit lol. but there are so many ocean-related motifs around tomgreg, and also they're kinda stupid, so i can still see it. a destination wedding in particular, with a built-in honeymoon, also feels perfectly decadent that way. AND they could combine it with either an italy option or the old new york option.

[sdr2lovemail]

Is there any chance I could get a general relationship headcanons for Yomi Hellsmile and Martina Electro (Raincode) with a g/n reader?

Thanks!~

Yomi Hellsmile and Martina Electro Relationship Headcanons (GN Reader)

Notes: I got really carried away with these! (O_O;) I was going to write headcanons for them together as well, but this post was getting super long. But if you're interested in that, feel free to send another request, dear! With the way my askbox looks, I'll become the person known for writing about Martina and Yomi. Not complaining tho, lol! I hope you enjoy the fruits of my indulgent labors.

Yomi Hellsmile

Getting into a relationship with Yomi would not be easy. He’s standoffish, rude, and devoted to his work. He would have to know you for a long time before even thinking about pursuing a relationship.

Yomi is surprisingly romantic. He knows he’s handsome and how to charm people. As director of the peacekeepers, he can take you out almost anywhere. His preferred places are ones where the two of you can be alone.

Yomi is the possessive type. Like the way Kanai Ward is his city, you are his partner. No one else is allowed to think about you he does. He’s got a nasty jealousy streak as well and isn’t fond of people throwing advances at you.

What he considers advances is vague though. Depending on how he’s feeling that day, someone just speaking to you in a way he didn’t like is eligible to be framed for murder.

Dates are few and far between. He’ll tell you early on that Amaterasu comes first. But sometimes he’ll surprise you with a night out. Yomi would buy out an entire restaurant so you could spend time in private. He enjoys more expensive tastes, so they’ll be decently fancy places.

When it comes to affection, Yomi is on the rougher side. Kissing would usually incorporate some type of biting, his favorite places being the neck and shoulders. He’s a strange man so he’s not above drawing a little blood.

He acts like he’s giving you some grand gift while being affectionate. Even if he’s coming to you for a hug or kiss, Yomi will tease you like you need him. As a fan of being dramatic, he’d go as far as calling himself ‘your savior.’

As much as he likes you, his sadism knows no bounds. He’ll be mean towards you, but in a somewhat loving way. If you mess something up, he’ll be sure to point it out, more than likely laughing. Yomi may or may not help you out, it all relies on his mood.

Want a kiss? That’s too bad, he’s much too busy to entertain you right now. He’ll come to you when he’s ready. Or jump on you the minute you turn your back.

There are two sides that fight inside his brain: one that wants to show you off to every and anyone, and the other that wants to keep his romantic life to himself. The first one usually wins as he can’t keep his hands off you.

If you worked at Amaterasu Corporation, Yomi would seek you out during the workday. Maybe asking you to do tasks for him like gathering files or preparing his afternoon tea. Or he’d have you accompany him on a homicide case. He thinks he can make you swoon by showing off his sense of justice.

If you were a regular Kanai Ward citizen, he would be a bit more private about your relationship. Crime is rampant there and he knows that there are very few, if any at all, people that like him. Yomi doesn’t know what he would do if some disgusting criminals were to harm you because of himself. Yes, he does, and it wouldn’t be pretty.

If you were a detective, it’s just a big mess all around. He wants to see your corpse hanging above his mantle yet craves the feel of your lips crashing against his so bad. Purposefully goes out of his way to be a nuisance in cases you’re working on. Yomi is not above an alleyway make-out session before sending the peacekeepers after you.

Martina Electro

Martina is a bit easier to court, but she holds herself in high regard and expects the same from her partner. She won’t accept anything less than what she deserves.

Unless you are in a position of power higher than hers, Martina would take more of a leading role in figuring out this relationship. She plans dates out weeks in advance, she is a fan of high-end café’s, shopping, and museum dates.

One fact about Martina that everyone is aware of, she loves talking about her partner. She’ll talk about you when brought up, she’ll talk about you unprompted, she’ll talk about you even if no one is listening. Martina will constantly sing your praises.

If there’s something to know about you, Martina will know it. She knows how you like your food and drinks to be prepared, hobbies, how you prefer your bed to be made. It sounds obsessive, and it kind of is, but this is how she shows her love. Her love language is being involved with your life.

Martina isn’t one to be jealous, she’s pretty secure in her relationships. People know her status as a peacekeeper and won’t come near you anyways. However, that doesn't mean that she doesn’t get possessive. Keeping you near her and in her grasp really gets her going.

Speaking of getting her going, she’s very reactive to affection. If your attention is a drug, she’s addicted to it. Holding her in your arms, kissing her anywhere, will make her flush a deep red. At first, her kissing is very clinical, like she’s analyzing you rather than kissing. But with time, she gets more enthusiastic, more relaxed. She doesn’t mind PDA either if you’re the one dealing it.

Despite her devotion, and borderline obsession, Martina is still her own, headstrong woman. If you do something she doesn’t like, she will be sure to tell you. Unfortunately, she’s stubborn by nature. If it comes down to arguments, it’ll usually be her way or no way until she cools off and gets more level headed.

Maybe it’s the homunculus DNA, but she enjoys your smell. There’s no real rhyme or reason to it. The familiarity of your scent is just something she likes. Borrowing pieces of clothing or spending time wrapped in your blankets are just heavenly. In the comfort of her own home, Martina would love to hold you in her arms, her face buried in your neck or hair. Watch out though, she has a bit of a drooling problem.

Motorcycle dates with Martina! Bring a thick rain coat, or not, she can provide one. She’ll take you out driving around the outskirts of Kanai Ward. There’re not many places that are very scenic, but there are a few places where the two of you can be alone. Make sure to hold on tight because she loves showing off with all types of tricks.

Post game, when she’s working in accounting, Martina will want to have a long talk with you. She knows the way she acted while working under Yomi was awful, and she wants to be completely transparent with you. However, working in an office now gives her more time to spend with you. If you surprised her with lunch one day, she might just die from joy!

If you worked at Amaterasu Corporation, she would want you by her side at all times. Follow her around and help at crime scenes. If you were a common peacekeeper, Martina would have you added to her team. Being her personal assistant is a fun thought. Her cute, devoted assistant that does as she says. But, that’s a post for another time.

If you were a citizen of Kanai Ward, she would be a bit condescending. She’s the beautiful vice director of the peacekeepers and you’re probably some poor office worker. She would talk down to you both unintentionally and intentionally. Nevertheless, she does love you. Martina would absolutely spoil you with gifts and lavish dates.

If you were a detective, she’s going to have a lot of fun tormenting you. Not much makes her happier than a cute face twisting in despair. Unlike Yomi, Martina doesn’t want you dead. No, that would ruin the fun too quickly. She would love to personally crush any hope you had of being a detective in Kanai Ward. She’s aware that she’s attractive and would try to use her charisma into getting you to join Amaterasu.

[justlarkin]

Would it be okay if I ask, how do you find Lifewonder's games and why do you play them despite it catering for gays?

I dont know anything about being aro/ace so it will be nice to understand them from their own individual perspective.

You're good lol. That's a fair question.

I will preface this by saying that there are other aro/ace people out there who play these games and how they identify under the Ace Spectrum and their reasons for playing are going to be different from mine.

So I still find some romantic and sexual things appealing, but not in a scenario that involves myself with someone else. I've never felt the desire to engage in a romantic or physical relationship myself. I don't like certain aspects of romance and have no interest in personally engaging in it. And I think some aspects of sex gross me out and I wouldn't want to personally engage with it. I think it's the intimacy of it all. Something about involving myself with other people in these scenarios puts me off, grosses me out, makes me feel uncomfortable.

I still engage with sexual and/or suggestive content because I do still find people attractive in that way and cranking it isn't one of the things I find gross about sexual content since it doesn't involve another person. Though I guess I still wouldn't find things appealing in the way others do since nudity/suggestiveness by itself is straight up meh and does nothing for me. It's the same with romance content. I still like reading/watching certain romances involving other people since it does not myself. I may not personally get it or desire it, but I still find some of it cute.

Ik Ik, I rambled. My bad. So why do I play these games when they're clearly marketed towards horny gays?

-I like LGBT+ media and was actively searching for LGBT+ games when I first started playing Housamo.

-I like furries.

-I like that their gimmick is lewding male characters unlike most gacha games.

-For Housamo, I like mythology.

-I like the lore, stories, and characters.

-Most importantly to the current topic, I like their gender selectable/neutral protagonists.

I prefer games with customizable or at least vague protagonists. With customizable protagonists, it's easier to just make a non self-insert oc to play as and detach myself from it. And with vague protagonists like the ones featured in Housamo and Live A Hero, they still have the detachability, but I mostly prefer how they're written and treated in the games. I don't know what it is, but most games that are targeted at a specific gender, especially dating games, are just ugh to me idk idk. The MCs' genders never being relevant in these games besides changing pronouns and labels is personally enjoyable for me.

[twinkle-art]

would you ever be in the mood to elaborate on what your emet/WOL dynamic is like? the bits you've posted have me curious

(gripping my thighs so hard i draw blood) yeah i don’t see why not

so as i’ve previously outlined, my particular brand of emetwol (platonic) hinges on the fact that he reminds andromeda of her mother. like. a lot. 

i’ve gotten so deep in here that i’ve grown wholly desensitized to this premise and it’s not weird to me anymore so we will be moving right along

(fig a- silly joke i made early into shb before i knew how dark this was going to get)

the crux of their relationship, to me, is that they are two people who flatly, abjectly refuse to truly see each other past their respective projections for nearly their entire time together, and this renders the very intense emotions they evoke in each other all the more corrosive to them. the exact emotions they even have towards each other are also… nebulous and hard to define, but they’re definitely bad. well. mostly bad. it’s complicated. 

This… might seem like a strange angle to take for someone who is pretty transparently sympathetic to emet-selch outside of all the atrocities but it’s definitely worth noting that andromeda’s difficulties holding him in her mind as a purely evil person despite her best efforts do not come from a belief that he is, in fact, secretly a good guy or anything. It’s first and foremost because she has a psyche that was shaped by an abusive upbringing, uncomfortable as that is. 

Without dwelling… too much on the details because this is quite heavy and I prefer keeping it tastefully vague (after this aspect of her character emerged shockingly organically as a frankly very obvious explanation for a LOT of her personality) her home life as a bastard child in garlemald was Bad. her step-family was bad. her mother had good intentions but was simply not there when she needed her. and all of this left her as an adult who is, frankly, pretty easy to manipulate if you prey on her bottomless, ravenous hunger for love and recognition… or the fact that she is just straight-up conditioned to respond to a particular flavor of authoritative influence. it is nothing short of a miracle that the scions found her first. 

i’m saying she’s dog-coded. is what i’m saying. you get it. 

(there IS also the whole.. uh. garlean fascism aspect. I don’t think i need to spell out why that’s relevant to her relationship with the guy behind the god-emperor she grew up being expected to revere)

NOW. as the arbiter of this reality, it’s not my read of emet-selch’s character that he enjoys doing any of this shit- him inevitably taking advantage of this glaringly obvious weak point is a wholly pragmatic move that ultimately contributes to the fact that she’s unwittingly making him nearly as miserable as he’s making her. Like, once he realizes what’s going on I fully believe he’d feel kind of dirty about it (never mind that this is a shard of azem he’s psychologically tormenting more than is strictly necessary. the man is sentimental) (also he thinks the mom stuff is fucking weird)

this doesn’t stop him tho. lol

a quick aside on azem and emet’s relationship since that’s never not relevant to these; they were very close, I hesitate to say overtly sibling-like since i think that’s a kind of an easy oversimplification, but the type of love they felt for each other was definitely more of a familial one than anything else. she trusted him more than anyone else, and he loved her fiercely and unconditionally, even if their day-to-day dynamic involved taking the piss out of each other constantly, and the fact that the last time he ever saw her involved a blow-out screaming match between them has not sat well with him these 12,000 years. 

And so, they each project these warped reflections of people they love and resent in equal measure onto each other- andromeda with the mother she never expects to see again, emet with the friend he can’t let himself admit he’ll never see again- and it makes their presence both painful and comforting. their unwillingness to detangle themselves because of that extremely twisted feeling of nostalgic comfort borders on emotional self harm honestly. 

and that’s before factoring in that they’re championing opposite sides of a world-defining conflict

with her canon-divergent stint in amaurot that i swear i’m going to fully flesh out in art someday, no seriously, i mean it this time, the bubbling Weird Vibes that accrued any time they were left alone during shb come crashing down all at once and it is brutal. as she slowly loses her grip on reality (to the point where even she’s not certain what really happened that week and what was a hallucination, in retrospect) his mask also begins to slip, as the tiny part of him that so badly wants to believe he can get through to her gets louder and he decides that she’s not even lucid enough to warrant keeping up the act. despite his best efforts i do think this forces him to confront andromeda as Andromeda, not just as Thee Warrior Of Light or as 8/14th of his dead bestie

anyways it probably gets to the point where he’s fully trauma dumping on her while she’s half-consciously lying in his lap wondering why her mom’s calling her perseus before the scions bust in to collect her. you know, really normal stuff

ultimately andromeda takes his death at her hands hard for… a number of reasons (and as i’ve previously touched on, feels bad and weird about the fact that she’s taking it hard at all) the largest of which being that she simply had not parsed how she felt about him beforehand, and was left to sift through a LOT of intense shit tied up in some really fuckin sensitive parts of her psyche for the first time in her adult life all while knowing meaningful closure was out of reach. it sucked. 

their surprise reunion in elpis was… both helpful and not to this end, on account of being extremely one-sided. much like emet did to her in the days leading up to his death, she only comes to finally understand him by observing him in this unguarded, regressed state- even if she is now a total stranger to him. 

(hades found her.. unnerving, to say the least. she didn’t do a very good job leaving their Whole Thing out of her recounting of his future and he can’t deny that how obviously deeply affected andromeda still is by that gnaws at him even while he tries to reject it as total bullshit. it gets a bit lost in all the noise but he finds the thought that he’d do that to her a little stomach-churning)

i don’t know if i’d really call it cathartic but at least she can see him as a full person without it physically paining her now. that counts as progress

thank you for coming to my talk. here’s their playlist and here’s a drawing i did of them as dgs kitty mascots. i turned it into a cutesy phone background for myself. no i’m not sure what’s wrong with me either 

[babacontainsmultitudes]

What's the bone you have to pick please tell?

Anon you gotta let a girl have her vague little vents in the final tags of a meme post lol. Answering that question properly would be a long-ass ramble, and not one I'm really ready to go off over while I'm still in the post-episode rush. There's also just certain forms of negativity that I usually prefer to avoid bringing to the table?

...But since you asked, I suppose you could say that the gist is I often find myself feeling a bit weary of Will's handling of Sparrow as an NPC, or more accurately his general lack of concern for the twins' arcs in the greater narrative context. I think it's great that Normal is a very emotionally stubborn character, but sometimes it's a little *too much* for my personal tastes. Which is to say, I often get the impression that he is very preoccupied with optimizing Normal's angst factor (often at the expense of nuance- particularly with respect to Sparrow's characterization), and much less interested in giving Norm a relationship with his dad that actually develops or goes anywhere new or interesting. Mostly it just leaves me worried about whether or not things will end on a narratively satisfying beat or not by the end of the season (which, to be clear, does not mean I expect or want everything to be rainbows and butterflies, either).

Which isn't to bring down Will too much as a player either- there's obviously very many things that he does extremely well but. I mean all the players have their strengths and weaknesses, and when it comes to Will I guess one of my major critiques lies there! Hopefully that answers your question at least somewhat, anon. Not asking you to agree with these feelings, obviously. But hey, you're the one who asked lol.

[usmsgutterson]

All right! It is that time of year again and, as some who typically thrives in the fall and winter months, it is absolutely, a thousand percent, time for me to become even more insufferable than I was in September when the fall event released!! yay!!

As with last year and because I love myself a good seasonal/holiday queue, I am also doing the five days of christmas queue again! I'm not doing it how I did it last year in that it was both requests and my own work--that is partly because I dont want to make a separate event post for it--this year and probably going forward, it'll just be fics themed around Christmas that come from me and aren't requests.

Fandoms to whom this event are open are as follows: six of crows, shadow and bone, peaky blinders (tommy and alfie only) shatter me (aaron and kenji only) and free rein (pin only because I miss writing for him anyway)

Requests will be open until the 30th of december. Any request I get after NYE or New Years Day will be deleted.

the event is below the cut as this has clogged up peoples dashes enough already lol

NOW PLAYING: peace by taylor swift

the devils in the details but you've got a friend in me - age old friendships between people who can go months without talking to one another and pick up right where they left off--think platonic strong bonds and relationships that have lasted too many years to count. Give me a character, a gender pref for the reader, and a holiday activity that you want me to write strong-bonded characters (be it friends who've been friends for a decade or a couple who has been in a relationship just as long) doing and I'll write 1-5k words for it. Think good vibes, snowy weather, and hot chocolate + christmas decorating--I will write just about any holiday activity for this prompt and I promise I'll have a blast

you and me forevermore - anniversaries! One year, five years, ten years, you name it! I personally think that winter is the superior season to start a relationship in so I will write anniversary celebrations set in the winter months and all you need to do is give me a character, a gender pref for the reader, and any other specifics you'd like to add!

SHUFFLING CHRISTMAS PLAYLIST

NOW PLAYING: have yourself a merry little christmas as covered by phoebe bridgers

have yourself a merry little christmas - PROMPTS!! I wrote out holiday prompts for the season and this is my excuse to use them. Send in any combination of prompts you want--you can send me a prompt from this list with a prompt from any of the other ones, just tell me what list you're using and I'll write it!

if we make it through december we'll be fine - long fics! Give me as many details as you want--in this instance I would very much prefer specificity over vagueness so do not spare a single one--a gender pref for the reader, and I'll write what you give me! Anything goes for this. Prompts, scenarios, anything! Any genre, though when I think of this I think angst because it is very easy to write longer angst fics for me. These fics will be anywhere from 4-8k words in length and all of their necessary details are completely up to you.

[castlebyersafterdark]

Or waking him up with a hand already on his cock, or mouth around him.

Ok this is something ive vaguely wondered about for a long time and never known how to broach cos im sure most people will say it's Just Fantasy. i see this somno idea presented in extreme ways and more casual, like this one you mentioned. im curious about it because my initial reaction on seeing this hc was - is this based on people's real experiences, or fantasies alone, or just hcs for the boys/fictional characters? or all? because issues of consent become a bit grey here. maybe im just thinking of women's experiences and how women's discomfort can be minimized in pop culture. perhaps its different in your experience, as a gay man or in gay culture.

i kind of get icky when i see people throwing the need for constant blatant verbal consent around because post-weinstein we've lost a lot of the sexiness and complicity of non-verbal communication and consent in sex. but my brain always thinks of those cases where the guy doesnt think its even possible to rape a girl if theyre married or in a relationship. so anything goes, and yes and no blur. ofc mike and will are in a loving relationship, but what happens if one of them wakes up and feels a bit weird about it, totally not in the mood or just had a totally different sleep experience and is thrown for a loop because the other has a mouth around them? would they always be able to recover and just say no and separate (physically) and be fine? im not sure.

idk its such a tricky one. maybe with byler theyve had conversations before where they're like its always ok to wake me up with a bj lol

This is a good one and I wondered if the question would ever come up because I know it's a controversial sex act / kink! Definitely onto something with some of it being in the realm of fantasy - but it is realistic for a lot of people as well. I'll offer my own perspective under the cut at the end like I usually do when I get too embarrassingly tmi/personal haha. But it's hard to explain this particular one without a real life perspective.

The consent aspect is a big part and one that's incredibly important in real life - but I'll personally admit when it comes to fanfic or just a simple HC post, there are certain aspects of fictional sex lives I just choose to gloss over and/or leave out. Because it is a bit of a fantasy world and a lot of assumptions are made. (Do yall know how many asks I get requesting details and preferences on the intricacies of anal sex prep? Yall. Suspension of disbelief. There's so many advice and sexual health articles out there to read up on if you're so curious, it's... implied. No offense to the curious mind, I appreciate the genuine approach, but I ain't including all that in a fic hahaha. ANYWAY)

i kind of get icky when i see people throwing the need for constant blatant verbal consent around because post-weinstein we've lost a lot of the sexiness and complicity of non-verbal communication and consent in sex.

I know exactly what you mean. And I don't know what goes on in most people's real sex lives, but in fanfic world, there can sometimes be a sort of "over-correction" when it comes to the way dialogue and consent is written. You just... gotta make it sound natural. So much reads like a sex ed pamphlet. There's a way to add consent and communication into the flow rather than a pause to deliver a PSA. Easier said that done, I know. It's important, but we don't have to treat what is fantasy and playing around with creativity as a manual for education every time. Real life... isn't A,B,C dialogue choices. Hard to explain, you know??? This isn't covering all the extreme kink explorations and all - which I don't really write so I'm not diving into that. There's an entirely different world out there regarding bdsm but it's not my world so I have little to offer in terms of conversation. As well as the cnc kink which is a whole other ballpark. Valid, but not the topic I'm including with this. This is more of a "light" version.

Gosh. Ok. Here is personal insight which kind of informs how I approach the topic of something like consent and especially a somno style sex act in realistic practice:

It definitely is very personality based - communication, trust, sex drive, what both partners are into. Goes along with the idea of "natural flow of conversation and sex" and really knowing your partner. So. We both know we're very comfortable with each other's bodies and in a well established relationship - we know each other's moods. This isn't something that's happening every day! Or even every week! An occasional indulgence. It's intimate, sharing a bed with someone long term. If you or your partner goes to bed exhausted or a bit upset or off-kilter from the day, feeling sick or just in an odd mood - obviously life just goes about normally. There are times though, when let's say... the night ended after a lot of sex, just a really intimate time and drifting off to sleep from a really passionate session and you know. Continuing in the next morning isn't hmm. Out of the ordinary. The vibes linger from falling asleep into waking again. It's hard to describe - sometimes blatantly spoken in the heat of passion when it's so good and you're still feeling greedy even before it's over ("I'd love to wake up to you fucking me") or something crazy. Or, you just know you'd both go another round before bed if you weren't so tired, so you pass out but whoever wakes up first may just get a head start and continue.

It's... a lot of just knowing your partner. Feeling comfortable to know if you wake up and oh, that's happening and you're not into it? You can just say "babe, I kinda want to just go back to sleep" and you know they'll ease off and let you be. Or, you wake up to a nice surprise and it's a shock at first, but you then relax and let it happen, or vice versa doing something to them. More often it's one of those instances more where you both wake up, very in the stirring strings of half awake, half asleep, and one partner is a little more awake and has the idea. And the half asleep one is like, oh? Sure! I'm just gonna drift though, you have fun. Go to town. It can be like that, too. This all feels very normal and within the flow of an established couple with a pretty active sex life. Just in my opinion.

I've read a lot of sex forums and kink forums because I'm curious about a lot of things! And sex is interesting to me beyond just titillation (using that one for another anon who adores the word haha), sometimes it's just fascinating research. I've read a lot of instances specifically with women, some are actually really into the practice and find it really hot to wake up to their partner either going down on them or starting to fuck them, when they're still sleeping. After conversations about it - there's the consent talk. Now, proceed. They'll wear a specific hair tie or bracelet when they go to sleep, signalling that they're looking for this sex act to happen if so desired. That's the communication, that's the greenlight. No bracelet - no touchy. I don't really practice anything like that because it's not like this is something we do often. It's an offhand comment, it's reading the vibe, it's the half asleep fumblings on a morning lie-in when one partner wakes up with the urge. So, all in all - there are different forms of communications rather than just sitting down the edge of the bed and turning to each other and blatantly spelling out every detail and shaking hands at the end before engaging with the session.

I know there are relationships that are very how do I say it - lifestyle kinksters? Where the master/sub (I don't like the other S word to be honest) have an agreement for whatever period of time is decided upon - where there's a "free use" understanding. They've consented to the initiation of sex whenever. Often including while asleep or half-asleep. But that's also an agreed upon form of consent where it's not long form discussed previous to each encounter. That's lifestyle kink, though. Not most people. Realistically, it's more... trust and understanding of who you're sharing your bed with. Are they into it? Can you tell when they won't be? There's no real rule book.

So when it comes it fiction - I think the idea is kind of implied it's a bit like what I've personally described? Even if not really detailed in the written prose. Not that consent isn't interesting or important - but at least my writing and the writing I like to read - I'm not looking for hyper-realism or education. And there's also great worth in reading/writing some stuff that's more controversial or not perfected romance - I just don't really dive into that myself. I'm very sappy romance and idealistic, to be honest. Just what I'm good at and prefer. ☺️😘

[randomly--accessed--memories]

Is Alastor aware of Vox’s children - specifically his daughter?

Personally I interpret that Vox was probably a parent who played favorites [unintentional or intentional] and assuming his relationship with his son was likely strained - Vox gave his daughter more attention & affection. Making the memories pop in a bittersweet way.

I could see Alastor being conflicted, depending on if he knew about Vox’s children before he reduced his former friend turned enemy to static. Alastor assuming he was a terrible father [easy assumption because it’s… Vox lol] and feeling so disgusted with a man who already fell into his distaste. We know Alastor’s daddy issues, I can’t imagine him being comfortable with a [absent father at best, neglectful & emotionally abusive father at worst] around unless he were his little plaything.

I can think of so many ways Alastor could torture Vox psychologically with this knowledge. Gaslighting Vox into thinking a porcelain doll is actually his baby, allowing him to get attached to said doll for a while — only to shatter it right in front of him.

“Oh! Well, you can always make a new one! Haha!”

Alastor’s pettiness levels are 100% showing here as the mentality of “replacing the old with the new” that Vox used to spout out constantly is being used — in reference to his “baby”.

Of course Vox is absolutely distraught, feebly sputtering and trying to pick up the broken pieces of the doll before quickly devolving into pure rage.

“I trusted you! She’s my daughter!”

Alastor is merely grinning, laughing even. Right at Vox’s face. Vox is cursing him out using every word in the book, get violent almost immediately - and if any of the hotel residents are there all Hell will break loose.

Alastor could also just say “Oh she’s dead.” Anytime Vox asks where his daughter is… that’s a lot simple than what I just wrote lol.

But yeah neat little scenario I wanted to explore, I absolutely love love love this AU!! Everything is so well-written and thought out! I hope I didn’t write Alastor too evil, or Vox too pathetic(?) :p

- 🐚

OH JEEZ

Yeah, Vox was... not a great dad. He just wasn't around most of the time and saw his role as breadwinner as the only thing he really needed to do in order to be a Good Father™. He loved his kids in his own, self-absorbed way, but just wasn't involved with them in any meaningful manner. He was never abusive towards them but still managed to traumatize them through the constant, vicious arguments he would get into with their mother. You're right though, he did prefer Sarah (his younger child) to Thomas (his elder child) quite a bit, and she ended up with far more fond memories of him because of it.

Alastor is vaguely aware that Vox was a father when he was alive, but never felt any desire to delve into that aspect of his life. Vox lowkey compulsively overshares with the people he'd attracted to and Alastor ended up learning a lot more about Vox than he really wanted to back when they were friends. I'd never thought about how he would feel about what kind of father Vox was though– that's an interesting concept.

My HC backstory for Alastor is that he was born out of wedlock and never knew his biological father. At age 6, he and his mother left his grandparents' house and moved in with his mother's white cousin and her husband, who agreed to pretend Alastor (who was white-passing) was their son in exchange for his mother working as their maid. When Al was 11, he caught a glimpse of his mother having sex with his "adoptive father"– he'd threatened to kick her and Alastor out of the house if she didn't agree to sleep with him. He grew to loathe the man and eventually smothered him to death while he was recovering from the Spanish Flu that had swept through the house and claimed his mother's life.

With that context, I don't think Alastor would begrudge Vox for being a neglectful father that much since he just sort of sucked in a way that most men from that time period sucked. He'd see Vox's memories of his children in a similar way as he sees Vark; irrelevant and harmless, but a weak point he could easily exploit if he felt it was necessary.

The concept of the doll is fucking brutal. Al would probably be aware of how easily Vox projects memories of Sarah onto various people/things since it happens occasionally with Niffty, but I think that'd be a type of torment restricted to when he's feeling especially sadistic for whatever reason. Alastor thinks of himself as having standards, although he's willing to bend on some of them if he can think of a good justification and already wants to do it. So yeah, basically Vox's kids are off-limits until they're Not anymore.

Thank you for the compliments! I'm glad you're enjoying it! I really appreciate long, elaborate scenarios like this; they give me a chance to talk about so many different things and get me to consider elements that I hadn't previously thought of.