#excerpt from Reunite

[op-reader]

He just entered the room right after his meals with his family. He was quite confused how can he not notice the flow of time that he lost himself unknowingly, looked back at the idol. Wink.

Arjun’s eyes widened in shock. Did the idol just wink?

“Did you see that?” Arjun asked the only other occupant of the room.

“See what?” came a dry reply from his brother.

“That. The idol. Just winked.” Which even to Arjun felt stupid when he said that out loud.

“Really Arjun? Haven’t you been sleeping well? You are seeing things now?” came a flat reply.

Arjun affronted replied “Wah..I did not. It’s true. I saw I think…” he trailed off “Maybe you are right brother. I must be seeing things due to lack of sleep” still not convinced that it is because of his lack of sleep.

Wink. Not a glimpse of movement from corner of his eye. This time Arjun clearly saw it. He is sure of it.

He looked towards his brother to ask if he has noticed that as well only to meet with his scowling face which made him raise his both hands to placate his brother “Alright brother. I am leaving. I am leaving. Just give me few minutes. I will come soon.”

Shooing his brother out of the room, he turned back to the idol again and starts looking with eyes narrowed in suspicion. No movement. He sighed in disappointment and turns to leave when he felt his Dupatta hanging loosely from his shoulder being pulled from behind making him frown. He turned quite annoyed now that it’s stuck to maybe a nearby object only to find nothing.

There is no object for his dupatta to get stuck at all. None. It’s a pooja room. There are no objects like diwan etc. Only mats for people to sit and pray. Then how did he feel the pulling sensation? To what did his clothes get attached to, for him to feel that?

~Laughter~

“Who is that?” he asked aloud waiting for an answer.

No one. He can see the room clearly. There is no one here.

[howifeltabouthim]

. . . he caught sight of her, and the past rushed forward and stopped him in his tracks.

John Banville, from Snow

[spainkitty]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Chapter 5: Cast into Darkness, The Light We Had Won

Gradually, the boat turned around once more and trudged—if a boat could trudge—into Kinloch Hold's dock cavern. The landing was covered in templars. Dorian and Lanil straightened, fear flicking them like whips, until they saw the lack of red lyrium. One of the templars, in the midst of the others, took off his helmet as the boat docked. His hair, which had already been grey, had gone all over silvery-white and had receded far back from his forehead. His beard was thicker and longer than ever and as grey as his hair. Lanil came down the gangplank, wariness warring with the nostalgia.

Greagoir had been the one to bring her from Denerim when she was a little girl. It had been his hand holding hers while they travelled the long King’s Road, when they overlooked Lake Calenhad and she’d seen Kinloch for the very first time. He had been stern and reticent, but he’d been kind in his gruff way. Her relationship with him had been nothing like her relationship with Irving, but the two of them were intertwined in her mind with Kinloch itself.

“So you’ve come home, Surana. That would explain Amell dropping the shield,” Greagoir said, his helmet tucked under his arm. There was almost a smile on his face. Until he caught sight of Dorian right behind her in all his flamboyantly, unrepentantly Tevinter glory. “You’re not welcome here.”

“That’s charming,” Dorian said dryly. Lanil put her hand on his arm and glared at Greagoir.

“He’s welcome wherever I am, Greagoir.”

The templar-commander’s eyes widened before he scowled. Lanil frowned at him even harder. Greagoir glowered. Lanil’s mouth twisted fiercely, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. Greagoir scoffed and his bushy silver brows drew tautly together. Dorian barely managed to conceal a laugh with a polite cough behind his fist. His eyebrow tilted upwards, and Lanil snorted.

“Surely you can’t blame me for thinking it’s blood magic at work, Surana, and it’s been a long time. I can’t take your word as is," Knight-Commander Greagoir said at last, their wordless argument finished.

“Does my word have any weight here, Greagoir?” Kimg Alistair asked as he came down the plank to Dorian's side.

Greagoir stared, his gaze jumping from Lanil to Dorian to King Alistair to Sister Leliana, recognition and clear confusion in his expression.

Lanil finally groaned, rolled her eyes, and chanted the Litany. It rolled from her lips easily, her body glowing brighter and brighter, until a burst of white light washed over them. Although not every member of Kinloch had it memorized, any one of them could recognize it and its effects. It had been added to the curriculum, according to one of Stef’s old letters. There had been efforts to duplicate it, and simplify it, too. Greagoir nodded and every templar behind him stood down.

“Irving will be happy to see you again, Surana. You both will always be friends here,” he added with a nod towards King Alistair and Sister Leliana. “I hope you excuse my precautions, your Majesty.”

“Not a problem.”

“LANIL!”

Lanil immediately sprung forward. The doors into the Hold threw themselves open and Stef ran through. She’d hitched her robes up above her knees in one hand, the other outstretched where she’d obviously cast a spell. She didn’t so much as stumble. For a moment, Lanil saw her own lyrium-clawed hand piercing through Stef's throat. Saw the gaping, ragged wound as she fell. Then, it was only Stef again. The chubby, blonde, cheerfully bright-eyed mage of this time, of the real time. Though her hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense bun and her make up gone, and there were the deep purple shadows under her eyes, she was flushed red from running and looked fine. Healthy. Completely and wholly herself. And, most importantly, alive.

They collided amid the templars, uncaring of the audience and utterly relieved, clutching tight with clawed and desperate fingers.

“What happened? Is Fiona—” They both said and cut off at the same time with matching expressions of dismay.

“That’s something we would all like answered,” Sister Leliana said. “We have a lot of missing information.”

“Maybe we can do this over some food? I’m starving,” King Alistair suggested hopefully.

“That can be arranged, your Majesty,” Greagoir said. He gestured at the templars. More than half of them returned to position, overlooking the docks that were now barrier-free. The rest followed them into the Hold.

[2b4st4r]

Hello! I'm not sure what the rules are- I couldn't find them, sorry QAQ.

But I wanted to request an ASL (or just Luffy, that's fine as well!) x f!reader. Where the reader was the tallest out of them when they were all young, then as they grew up, reader became the shortest. (And if it's possible, I feel like it would be funny if reader was the youngest, because most children take pride in being tall for their age, especially if they're taller than other children older than them.)

Thanks for reading this request, and hope you have a fun time writing my request if you do so!

Tallest

ASL x f!reader

Words: 9,515

Summery: This fanfiction excerpt follows Y/n, Ace, and Sabo, who grew up together alongside Luffy in the world of One Piece. As children, Y/n, despite being the youngest, took great pride in being the tallest of the four, often teasing the boys about it. Years later, they are all accomplished pirates and revolutionaries, having set sail on their own adventures. When Ace and Y/n unexpectedly reunite, they discover they've both grown considerably, now towering over Y/n, a fact Ace enjoys teasing her about. Their reunion then leads to a heartfelt decision to seek out their other brothers, Luffy and Sabo, bringing to light a hidden, painful past from Y/n's childhood involving the Celestial Dragons, ultimately reinforcing the unbreakable bond of their unique, found family.

Warnings: Childhood Trauma/Slavery Implied, Teasing/Minor Bullying, use of y/n.

A/N: I am SO sorry, I made this a lot sadder then I thought it would/then what you requested. But I really enjoyed writing this! Also sorry about the rules thing

Masterlist

_________

The sun beat down on Mount Colubo, just as it always did, warming the forest and the hidden clearing that served as a makeshift training ground. A chorus of shouts and grunts echoed through the trees, punctuated by the occasional clang of lead pipes. "Ha! Missed me again, Ace!" a clear, joyful voice rang out, laced with a familiar teasing lilt. Y/n dodged another wild swing from Ace, her own pipe held casually at her side. Even at their young age, she towered over him, a fact she never let him forget. Luffy, already tangled in a tree branch he'd tried to swing from, giggled from his precarious perch, while Sabo, ever the more strategic of the three, watched intently, plotting his next move. They were an unlikely quartet, bound by sworn brotherhood and endless adventures, but in this wild, untamed corner of the world, Y/n, despite being the youngest, was undeniably the tallest, and she wore her height like a crown.

"Honestly, you guys are practically hobbits!" Y/n declared, easily stepping over a fallen log that Ace stumbled over. He grumbled, picking himself up. "It's not fair! You just keep growing!"

She flipped her (h/c) hair over her shoulder, a smug grin on her face. "Someone's gotta reach the good berries on the higher branches, right? You'd all starve without me."

Luffy, finally extricated from the tree, bounced over. "But Y/n, how come you're so tall? Are you part giant?" His eyes were wide with innocent curiosity.

Y/n laughed, a bright, clear sound that echoed through the trees. "Nope, just perfectly proportioned. Unlike some people I know." She winked at Sabo, who was trying to suppress a smile. He knew she was teasing, but even he couldn't deny the height difference. She stood at least a head taller than him, and even more so compared to Ace and Luffy.

"One day, I'll be taller than you, Y/n!" Ace declared, shaking his pipe at her. "You won't be able to tease me then!"

Y/n just chuckled, easily disarming his "threat" with a playful shove. "Dream on, shorty. By the time you catch up, I'll probably be able to high-five the clouds." She stretched her arms above her head, as if to demonstrate, her slender frame reaching further skyward. The sheer joy and pride in her height were evident in every movement, every jest. It was her signature, her unique mark amongst the three boisterous boys, and she reveled in it.

Years later

The salty spray of the Grand Line was a familiar kiss on Y/n's face as she gripped the railing of her ship, the Sea Serpent. Eighteen years old and a captain in her own right, she gazed out at the endless horizon, a faint smile playing on her lips. It had been a long four years since she and her brothers had parted ways, each setting sail on their own adventures at seventeen, just as they'd promised. Now, Ace and Sabo were 22, and Luffy, forever trailing a year behind, was 19.

A gust of wind whipped her (h/c) hair across her face, and she sighed, a small, almost imperceptible sigh of something akin to wistfulness. The truth was, Y/n hadn't exactly reached the lofty heights she'd once boasted about. She was still tall, taller than most women(barely, but she still counts that ½ of an inch.), but her childhood dreams of practically high-fiving clouds had remained just that—dreams. And somewhere out there, she knew, were three familiar figures who had undoubtedly shot up like beanstalks themselves. The thought brought a smirk to her face. She could already hear the teasing.

"Captain! Land sighted!" a crewmate called from the crow's nest, pulling Y/n from her thoughts. Her smile widened, a genuine, unburdened expression. Whatever her height, she was a captain, and the Grand Line was her playground.

The port town bustled with the usual chaos of a Grand Line stopover. Y/n navigated the crowded docks, her crew dispersing to resupply and stretch their legs. She was heading towards a local tavern, the scent of grilled fish and cheap ale already beckoning. As she pushed through a knot of sailors, a flash of orange caught her eye—a familiar hat, just visible above the heads of the crowd. Her breath hitched. No, it couldn't be. Pushing it off before continuing her way. She was just seeing things.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the busy street, Ace was enjoying a hearty meal at an outdoor stall, his signature hat tilted back. He laughed loudly at something his crewmate said, his broad shoulders shaking. He'd filled out significantly since his teenage years, a testament to the harsh realities of the New World. At 6'1", he was undeniably taller than the boy who used to swear he'd one day outgrow her. He paused mid-chew, his keen eyes scanning the throng of people. A flash of (h/c) hair, a familiar confident stride... no, it couldn't be. But then, she turned slightly, and his eyes widened. Y/n.

He watched, a slow grin spreading across his face. She was still tall, yes, but not quite the towering giant he remembered. He, on the other hand, was now nearly a head taller than her, a fact he was very eager to confirm. He swallowed the last of his food and pushed away from the stall, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. This was going to be fun.

Y/n was just about to step into the tavern when a hand clamped down on her shoulder, spinning her around. Her eyes widened. It was him, unmistakably. The freckles, the grin, the familiar spark in his dark eyes that hinted at trouble.

"Ace?!" she breathed, a wide, disbelieving smile breaking across her face.

He chuckled, that deep, rich sound that always made her feel like a kid again. "Hey, Y/n. Long time no see." His smile softened, a genuine warmth replacing the playful glint. "Damn, it's good to see you. I thought I was seeing things for a second there."

"You too!" she exclaimed, her voice a little choked up. Before she knew it, she was pulling him into a tight hug, inhaling the familiar scent of sea salt, smoke, and something uniquely Ace. He returned the embrace just as fiercely, lifting her slightly off her feet for a moment before setting her down.

They pulled back, a comfortable silence settling between them for a beat, filled only with the sounds of the bustling port. His gaze swept over her, taking in the changes, the way her hair had grown, the faint scar just above her eyebrow she hadn't had before. "You look good, Captain. Being out on your own treating you well?"

"Couldn't be better," she replied, a blush rising on her cheeks at his appreciative gaze. "And you? Still burning everything you touch?"

Ace laughed, a full-bellied laugh that drew a few curious glances. "Only the things that deserve it. But seriously, Y/n… it’s been too long. I’ve missed you, ya know?" His voice was a low murmur now, almost intimate.

"I've missed you too, you idiot," she admitted, nudging his arm playfully. "More than you know." She felt a warmth spread through her, a comforting sense of belonging she hadn't realized she was missing.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Though… I gotta say. You haven't quite managed to reach those clouds yet, have you?" A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he straightened up, looking down at her with a smirk. "Last I checked, I'm pretty sure I could practically use your head as an armrest now. What happened to our little giant?"

Y/n's face immediately flushed a furious red. Her eyes narrowed. "You overgrown beanstalk! I'm still tall! You just... grew more!" She jabbed a finger at his chest, completely falling for the bait. "It's not fair! You were supposed to stay small so I could keep teasing you!"

Across the crowded street, the crew of the Sea Serpent watched, a mixture of confusion and outright terror etched on their faces. "Is that... is that Fire Fist Ace?!" whispered a trembling navigator, pointing a shaky finger. Their captain, Y/n, was currently jabbing her finger into the chest of the infamous Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, a man with a tattoo so recognizable it could make even the bravest marines break a sweat. And the scariest part? He was laughing. And she was flushing.

"Captain, what are you doing?!" one of the new recruits whimpered, clutching his sword. The older, more seasoned crewmates were equally perplexed. They'd heard whispers of Captain Y/n's past, of her "brothers," but this... this was beyond anything they'd imagined. This was the man who had faced down admirals, who sailed under the most powerful pirate in the world! Yet, their usually composed captain was acting like a schoolgirl, bickering with him like they were squabbling siblings, yet with an undeniable undercurrent of something more... something dangerously familiar.

"She's gonna get herself killed!" another gasped, eyeing the massive Whitebeard tattoo prominently displayed on Ace's broad back. It was a stark reminder of the power he wielded, the sheer force behind the man who was currently being teased by their captain. They braced themselves, expecting an explosion of fire, a casual obliteration of their beloved captain for her audacity. But instead, Ace just leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes that only deepened Y/n's blush.

"Oh, so it's my fault I kept growing?" Ace countered, stepping closer, his voice a low rumble that only she could hear over the din of the port. "Maybe you just stopped trying, Y/n. Got complacent at your… average height." He paused, his gaze lingering on her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her furious eyes. "Though, I gotta admit, it's kinda cute when you get all riled up."

Y/n’s jaw dropped, her cheeks burning even brighter. "Cute?! I'll show you cute, you giant oaf!" She lunged, not with an attack, but with a playful, yet forceful, shove that sent him stumbling back a step. The crew gasped, their fear turning into bewildered awe. No one shoved Fire Fist Ace and lived to tell the tale, let alone got a playful grin in return.

"Alright, alright, feisty as ever," Ace chuckled, easily regaining his balance. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side, a gesture so natural it made her heart thump a little faster. "How about we grab a drink and you can tell me all about how your 'average' height has been serving you, Captain?"

The crew collectively fainted, or at least, looked like they were about to.

Ace's arm remained casually slung around Y/n's shoulders as they walked towards the tavern, his presence a comforting weight she hadn't realized she’d missed so intensely. The anxious whispers of her crew faded into the background as they stepped inside, the warm glow of the lamps and the murmur of conversation enveloping them. They found a relatively secluded corner booth, sliding in across from each other.

"So," Ace began, resting his forearms on the table, a genuine, soft smile on his face. "Tell me everything. What kind of trouble have you been getting into?"

Y/n recounted her adventures, her voice animated as she described challenging a minor Warlord, navigating treacherous currents, and even a comical run-in with a giant sea king that nearly swallowed her ship whole. Ace listened intently, his eyes crinkling at the corners as she spoke, occasionally interjecting with a laugh or a surprised "No way!"

"And then," Y/n continued, leaning forward conspiratorially, "I convinced the entire crew of a rival pirate ship that my cook's burnt stew was a rare, deadly poison, and they surrendered without a fight!"

Ace threw his head back and roared with laughter, drawing a few curious glances from other patrons. "Only you, Y/n! Only you could pull something like that off!" He wiped a tear from his eye. "Sounds like you've really come into your own, Captain."

Her cheeks warmed again at his praise, but this time it was purely from pleasure. "It's been... an experience. And you? Heard you've been making quite the name for yourself."

He shrugged, a hint of pride in his demeanor. "Just doing my part for Pops. It's a good crew, Y/n. A real family." His gaze softened, a hint of melancholy flickering in his eyes before he blinked it away. "But it's not the same without you around. Or Sabo and Luffy."

Y/n reached across the table, covering his hand with hers. "I know, Ace. I know the feeling. We always said we'd sail together, didn't we?"

He turned his hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "We did. And we will. Just not in the same way we thought when we were kids." He squeezed her hand gently. "But seeing you now… it's like no time has passed at all. Still the same loud, stubborn, ridiculously brave Y/n I grew up with." His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand, sending a shiver through her. "Even if I do have to crane my neck to look at you now." He winked, the teasing back, but softer this time, more affectionate.

Y/n snorted, unable to suppress a smile. "Oh, you just wait. I've got a growth spurt left in me. You'll be looking up to me again before you know it, Fire Fist."

Ace just grinned, squeezing her hand once more. "I wouldn't bet on it, Captain. But I'm looking forward to seeing you try."

Hours later, the tavern had emptied, and the stars had begun to pepper the ink-black sky. Ace and Y/n found themselves strolling through the quieter streets of the port town, their footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestones. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of the sea and the distant hum of the ocean. Their conversation had drifted from their separate adventures to shared childhood memories, punctuated by comfortable silences that only old friends—no, family—could share.

They passed a dimly lit market stall, its canvas awning rustling in the gentle breeze. Ace stopped, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know," he began, his voice a low murmur that seemed to blend with the night, "we should check on them. Luffy. Sabo."

The words hung in the air, potent and heavy with unspoken longing. Y/n felt a pang in her chest. She had thought about them, of course, constantly. Wondered if Luffy was still getting into impossible scrapes, if Sabo was still meticulously planning his every move. But hearing Ace say it aloud, giving voice to the buried desire, made it feel real, tangible.

They were both in crews they had sworn their lives to, families forged in the crucible of the Grand Line. To just… leave, even for a bit, felt almost wrong, a betrayal of the bonds they’d built. Their respective crews relied on them, looked up to them. They had responsibilities now, grander purposes than the simple, wild dreams of three boys and a girl on Mount Corvo.

But then again… it was Luffy. And Sabo.

The thought of seeing them, of hearing Luffy’s booming laugh and Sabo’s calm, steady voice, of having all four of them together again, even for a fleeting moment, was a powerful pull. The loyalty they felt to their current crews was immense, but the bond they shared, forged in blood and shared dreams, ran deeper than anything. It was a silent promise made years ago, etched into their very beings. The urge to see their brothers, to know they were safe and well, gnawed at them both.

Ace turned to her, his dark eyes reflecting the distant lamplight, a mix of conflict and yearning in their depths. "What do you say, Y/n? Think we could make it work?"

Y/n paced back and forth in the narrow alley, running a hand through her hair. "Ace, are you serious? Just 'check on them'? Do you have any idea what kind of mess that would cause? What about our crews? What about Pops? Do you really think Whitebeard is just going to wave his hand and say, 'Sure, son, go gallivanting across the Grand Line to visit your little brothers'?"

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "And my crew! They'd mutiny! I'm a captain, Ace, I can't just abandon ship to go on a sentimental little family reunion tour. There are protocols, there are responsibilities, there's the whole... you know, pirate life!"

Ace, however, remained infuriatingly calm, a confident smirk playing on his lips. He leaned back against the cool stone wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "Relax, Y/n. You're overthinking it, as usual. They'll understand."

"They'll understand what?" she retorted, throwing a glare his way. "That their captain, the one they swore loyalty to, just decided to disappear on a whim?"

"That their captain is a good person who cares about her family," Ace corrected gently, his eyes serious now. "Look, my crew, they know how important Luffy is to me. They know my connection to Sabo. Pops... he gets it. He's all about family, remember? He wouldn't stand in the way of me checking on my brothers. He'd probably just tell me not to cause too much trouble." He winked. "Which, you know, I might have to ignore a little."

He pushed off the wall, stepping closer to her. "And your crew? They follow you because they believe in you, Y/n. Because you're strong, and you're fair, and you're loyal. If you explain to them why this is important, they'll get it. Or at least," he added, his voice dropping to a low, persuasive tone, "they'll trust your judgment enough to let you handle it. We wouldn't be gone forever, just long enough to make sure they're alright. To see them."

He reached out, taking her hands in his. "Think about it, Y/n. Luffy, Sabo. All four of us. Even if it's just for a moment. Don't you want to see them again?"

His words chipped away at her resolve, stirring the deep-seated yearning that had been there all along. The 'ifs' and 'buts' of responsibility suddenly seemed less daunting than the thought of letting this chance slip away.

Y/n looked into Ace's earnest, hopeful eyes, the silent plea for a reunion echoing in their depths. All her carefully constructed arguments about responsibility and protocol began to crumble. The thought of seeing Luffy's boundless energy, Sabo's thoughtful smile, the sheer joy of having all four of them in one place again, even just for a fleeting moment, was an irresistible force. The pirate captain, the one who meticulously planned every move and accounted for every variable, was suddenly gone, replaced by the little girl who just wanted to see her brothers.

A slow smile spread across her face, mirroring Ace's. "You know, you're an insufferable idiot," she said, but her voice held no venom, only affection. "And completely reckless."

Ace's grin widened. "Comes with the territory."

"But," Y/n continued, a mischievous glint entering her own eyes, "you're right. They'll understand. And if they don't," she shrugged, a familiar devil-may-care attitude returning, "then they can just try to stop us."

Ace let out a triumphant laugh, pulling her into another quick, powerful hug. "That's the Y/n I know! So, what's the plan, Captain?"

Y/n pulled back, a determined glint in her eye. "First, we explain to our crews. Then, we figure out where those two knuckleheads might be. This is going to be complicated, Ace, but it's going to be worth it."

He nodded, his gaze fixed on hers, a shared understanding passing between them. The night air, once cool and crisp, now felt charged with a new kind of warmth, a renewed sense of purpose. They were pirates, yes, with crews and responsibilities, but they were also family. And family, for them, always came first.

Ace's Plea to Whitebeard

The next morning, back on the deck of the Moby Dick, Ace stood before the towering figure of Edward Newgate, the legendary Whitebeard. The air was thick with the usual bustle of the crew, but a respectful hush fell over the immediate area as Ace approached his captain.

"Pops," Ace began, his voice firm, "I need to ask for a leave of absence."

Whitebeard's massive eyes, usually twinkling with mirth or narrowed in battle, regarded him steadily. "Oh? And what grand adventure has captured my son's attention now?" His voice was a deep rumble, accustomed to commanding respect.

Ace didn't flinch. "It's not an adventure, Pops. It's… family. My brothers. Luffy and Sabo. Y/n and I ran into each other, and we realized we need to check on them. See if they're alright."

Whitebeard listened, stroking his magnificent mustache. A thoughtful silence stretched between them, broken only by the creak of the ship. Ace waited, knowing the weight of his request. Leaving his division, even temporarily, wasn't a small thing.

Finally, Whitebeard let out a hearty laugh, a booming sound that reverberated across the deck. "Gurararara! Family, you say? And my son asks to see his kin? Of course, you fool! What kind of father would I be to deny that?" He raised his gourd of sake. "Go, Ace! See your brothers. But don't you dare come back without some exciting tales for your old man! And don't cause too much trouble!"

Ace grinned, a genuine, relieved smile. "Thanks, Pops! You won't regret it!"

Y/n Addresses Her Crew

Later that day, Y/n gathered her own crew on the deck of the Sea Serpent. Their faces were a mix of curiosity and lingering apprehension after witnessing her interaction with Fire Fist Ace. She stood before them, her stance firm, her gaze sweeping over each of them.

"Alright, listen up!" she began, her voice clear and strong. "As you all saw yesterday, I ran into an old friend. More than a friend, actually. My brother, Ace."

A ripple of murmurs went through the crew, but Y/n held up a hand. "I grew up with him and two other brothers, Luffy and Sabo. We swore an oath when we were kids to set sail and find our own way, but also to always look out for each other." She paused, taking a breath. "Now, Ace and I… we've decided we need to check on them. Make sure they're safe. It's been years, and it's something we have to do."

A seasoned quartermaster stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "Captain, with all due respect, leaving the ship… that's unprecedented. What about our next course? Our supplies? The dangers of the Grand Line without our captain?"

Y/n met his gaze head-on. "I'm not abandoning you. And I'm not leaving you vulnerable. We'll set a course for a safe, secluded island where you can resupply and conduct maintenance. I'll leave detailed instructions, and your chain of command will be clear. I trust each and every one of you to keep this ship sailing true until I return."

She looked at each of them, her voice softening slightly. "This isn't a whim. This is family. It's a bond that means everything to me. I wouldn't ask this if it wasn't absolutely necessary. I need to do this, for them, and for myself." She took a deep breath. "Are you with me? Can you trust me on this?"

The crew exchanged hesitant glances, the fear of the unknown battling with their loyalty to their captain. The quartermaster looked at Y/n, seeing not just their captain, but the genuine emotion in her eyes. He sighed, then straightened up. "Captain, we follow you. Always have. If this is what you need to do, then we'll hold down the fort. Just… come back safe."

A wave of relief washed over Y/n. A genuine smile bloomed on her face. "Thank you. All of you. I won't be gone a day longer than necessary."

Ace and Y/n met again at the edge of the bustling port that evening, the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues. A shared sense of exhilaration crackled between them.

"So," Ace began, a wide grin stretching across his face, "they're good with it?"

Y/n nodded, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. "Took a bit of convincing, but yeah. They're holding down the fort. What about your old man?"

"Pops gave me his blessing," Ace confirmed, his chest puffing out slightly with pride. "Said family comes first. Told me not to cause too much trouble, though." He winked, and Y/n rolled her eyes playfully.

"Right, because you never cause trouble," she retorted, nudging him with her elbow. "So, the plan? Who are we tracking down first?"

They walked a little further, the last vestiges of the day's chaos fading into the quiet hum of the evening. Ace tucked his hands behind his head. "Well, Luffy's probably causing chaos wherever he is, which means he's easy to find eventually. Sabo, on the other hand… he's always been the more discreet one." He chuckled. "Always plotting, always observing. We should try to find him first. He'll probably have a better idea of where Luffy's gotten himself into trouble."

Y/n nodded in agreement. "Good call. Sabo's the brains of the outfit, even if he doesn't always act like it." She paused, then glanced at Ace. "This is really happening, isn't it? We're actually going to find them."

Ace’s grin widened, a pure, unadulterated joy radiating from him. "Damn right it is! They're gonna be so surprised." He clapped her on the back, a little harder than necessary. "Aww, and they'll see how small and cute you are, shorty!"

Whack! Y/n's hand connected sharply with the back of his head. "Shut it, you overgrown tree! I told you, I'm still tall! You just keep unfairly stretching out!" She glared at him, but her lips were twitching with a smile she couldn't quite suppress.

Ace rubbed the back of his head, feigning pain. "Hey, you used to think it was hilarious when you were taller! Now look at you, all defensive." He laughed, an easy, happy sound that filled the quiet night. "Alright, alright, Captain. Lead the way. Let's go find our brothers."

The search for Sabo proved to be a more arduous journey than either Ace or Y/n had anticipated. What they'd hoped would be a quick detour turned into a two-week odyssey across unpredictable stretches of the Grand Line. They spent their days charting courses, cross-referencing outdated maps with Ace's more recent intel from the Whitebeard network, and chasing down every whisper of a "flame-powered revolutionary" or a "top-hatted brawler."

The Grand Line, in its infinite capriciousness, threw everything it had at them. They navigated through sudden, violent thunderstorms that appeared out of nowhere, forcing them to huddle together as waves crashed over the small, borrowed vessel Ace had managed to procure. They endured sweltering, windless days that left them drifting under a relentless sun, only to be followed by bone-chilling cold fronts that had them sharing Ace's meager supply of cloaks. One memorable afternoon saw them narrowly escape the jaws of a monstrous sea king, a beast so large it dwarfed their little boat, leaving Y/n breathless with a mix of terror and exhilarating laughter.

Their nights were a stark contrast to the chaotic days. Anchored in secluded coves or drifting calmly on placid seas, they found solace in the quiet companionship. They'd share rations, often warmed by Ace's flames, and talk for hours under the vast, star-dusted sky. They recounted stories of their respective crews, shared anxieties about the paths they'd chosen, and drifted back to simpler times, reminiscing about Dadan's tough love and the endless freedom of their childhood.

Ace, surprisingly, was a decent storyteller, recounting thrilling escapades with the Whitebeard Pirates, his voice low and rich in the darkness. Y/n, in turn, found herself opening up about the challenges of being a captain, the weight of responsibility, and the moments of profound loneliness she sometimes felt. They laughed about their old dreams and shared new ones, finding a comfortable rhythm in their shared past and uncertain future. There were moments of quiet intimacy, too, as they sat shoulder-to-shoulder, the warmth of Ace's body a comforting presence against the cool night air.

Just when frustration was beginning to set in, after chasing a particularly misleading lead to a small, isolated island, they saw him. A familiar figure, easily distinguishable even from a distance by his distinct top hat and pipe, was engaged in a heated discussion with a group of rather disheveled-looking individuals near a makeshift revolutionary base.

"Sabo!" Ace bellowed, his voice echoing across the clearing, laced with unadulterated joy.

Y/n felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over her so strong it almost buckled her knees. After weeks of searching, battling the elements, and countless near misses, they had finally found him.

Sabo spun around at the sound of Ace’s booming voice, his eyes widening in disbelief. His pipe nearly clattered to the ground as he took in the sight before him: Ace, undeniably larger and more imposing than he remembered, and beside him, Y/n. He hadn't seen her since they were all seventeen, and the memories of her towering over them, even as kids, were vivid.

He rushed forward, a joyous laugh bubbling from his chest. "Ace! Y/n! What are you two doing here?"

Ace met him halfway, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. "Sabo! You idiot! We came to find you, of course!"

Y/n, a wide, teary smile on her face, embraced Sabo next, a warmth spreading through her at the familiar feeling of his arms around her. "It's been too long, Sabo!"

As they pulled back, Sabo's gaze swept over Y/n, and a flicker of genuine shock crossed his face. He remembered her as the tallest, the one who constantly teased them about their height. Now, at 6'1", he found himself looking down at her, just as he did with Ace. Y/n, at 5'5", was still a good height, but she was no longer the giant of their childhood memories. The realization hit him with a surprising force, a comical twist to their reunion.

He quickly masked his surprise, a warm smile returning. "You both look… incredible! What brings you all the way out here?"

"We wanted to see you, you knucklehead," Ace interjected, clapping Sabo on the back, a playful glint in his eye as he glanced at Y/n. "And someone here," he nudged Y/n with his elbow, "was getting worried she was going to be the only short one left."

Y/n immediately flushed, jabbing him in the ribs. "Ace, shut up! I am not short! And you're just as much an overgrown beanpole as he is!" She gestured exasperatedly at Sabo.

Sabo's eyebrows shot up in amusement, a wry smile playing on his lips. "It's true, Y/n, you haven't quite reached the sky like you used to threaten. I guess we finally caught up, huh?" He couldn't help but chuckle at her indignant pout, remembering how fiercely she'd clung to her height advantage as a child.

"You two are absolutely insufferable!" Y/n declared, throwing her hands up in mock surrender, a bright, genuine laugh escaping her lips despite her protests. It was exactly like old times, and the familiarity, the comfortable bickering, felt like coming home.

The small revolutionary base, a collection of makeshift shelters and tents, became the impromptu site for a long-overdue reunion. Sabo quickly introduced Ace and Y/n to his comrades, briefly explaining their shared past with a glint of pride in his eye. After the initial introductions, the three siblings found a quiet spot away from the bustling activity, settling around a small, crackling fire Sabo had built.

Hours melted away as they talked, catching up on years of missed adventures. Ace recounted his fiery escapades with the Whitebeard Pirates, his voice filled with reverence when he spoke of Pops. Y/n shared tales of cunning and leadership aboard the Sea Serpent, her crew's quirks, and the challenges of being a captain. Sabo, in turn, spoke of the burgeoning Revolutionary Army, the injustices he sought to dismantle, and the hope he carried for a better world.

"Remember that time Luffy tried to eat that entire wild boar by himself?" Y/n chuckled, poking the fire with a stick. "And ended up with a stomachache for three days?"

"And Dadan made him run laps until he nearly passed out," Ace added, a wide grin on his face. "Good times."

Sabo laughed, a soft, familiar sound. "We always had to save him from himself. Some things never change, I suppose." He looked at Y/n, a fond smile on his face. "It's good to see you, Y/n. You really haven't changed much, except maybe for your height." He ducked as Y/n aimed a playful punch at his shoulder.

"You're just jealous you're not as graceful as I am!" she retorted, though her eyes were twinkling with mirth.

As the night deepened, a comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire and the distant sounds of the jungle. The air was thick with unspoken affection, a tangible warmth that transcended the years and the vast distances they had traveled. They were no longer just children on Mount Corvo, but fierce pirates and revolutionaries, yet the core of their bond remained untouched. The easy camaraderie, the shared history, and the deep, unwavering love for each other was a powerful anchor in their tumultuous lives.

The thought of Luffy, still out there, unaware of their reunion, stirred a fresh wave of excitement. Their little family, broken by circumstance and distant memories, was slowly, surely, beginning to piece itself back together.

The night deepened, wrapping the three siblings in a comfortable cocoon of shared history. The fire cast long, dancing shadows, flickering across their familiar faces. They talked of their dreams, their crews, and the endless expanse of the Grand Line that now separated and connected them. Laughter, genuine and heartfelt, often punctuated their stories, a melody of brotherhood and sisterhood that had been years in the making.

Ace tossed another piece of wood onto the embers, sending a shower of sparks upwards. He leaned back, his gaze thoughtful as he looked at Y/n, then at Sabo. "You know, it's funny," he began, his voice a little softer than usual. "We've talked about everything under the sun tonight, but we've never really talked about it, have we?"

Y/n tilted her head. "Talked about what?"

"How you even ended up with us," Ace clarified, gesturing between the three of them. "I mean, Sabo and I were together for a while, then the dork— luffy showed up at Dadan's around a few years letter, then you.. but you… you were different. You were the last one, and you were so quiet at first. Distant, even. It took you almost a year to really open up." He paused, his brow furrowed in thought. "And Garp… he was always so much gentler with you than with us. At the time, we just figured it was because you were a girl, but looking back, Garp's the last person in the world to treat someone differently just because of their gender. He always looked at you with this… pity. Or something close to it."

Sabo nodded slowly, his expression mirroring Ace's. "He's right. Garp was tough on us, but with you, it was like he was walking on eggshells sometimes. What was that about, Y/n? How did you end up with him?"

The warmth in Y/n's eyes seemed to dim, ever so slightly. The firelight flickered, making the shadows deepen around her. She didn't answer right away, her gaze drifting to the dancing flames, lost in a memory. A moment of silence stretched, heavy with unspoken questions.

The crackling of the fire suddenly seemed louder, the chirping of crickets in the distance more pronounced. The easy laughter and comfortable silence of moments before had vanished, replaced by a sudden, heavy quiet. Y/n reached for a nearby waterskin, taking a slow, deliberate gulp, her eyes fixed on the inky expanse of the night sky above.

"Well," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "Garp—Garp saved me."

Ace and Sabo exchanged a quick, bewildered glance, but remained silent, sensing the shift in her demeanor, the sudden fragility in her usually strong presence.

Y/n paused, her gaze still fixed on the stars, as if searching for answers in their distant glow. Then, she spoke the words that hung in the air, chilling them to the bone despite the warmth of the fire. "From the Celestial Dragons."

A heavy silence descended upon them, thicker than the deepest ocean trench. Ace's jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumped in his cheek, his freckled face darkening. Sabo's breath hitched, and the easy warmth that had flowed between them minutes before evaporated, replaced by a cold dread. Both knew, intimately, the unspeakable cruelty of the Celestial Dragons. They were the world's untouchables, their casual whims often leading to unimaginable horrors for anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path.

The implication hung in the air, a sickening weight. A child. A child saved from them. The only way a child would be "saved" from a Celestial Dragon was if they had been... a slave. The thought was a searing brand, burning through Ace's mind. He wanted to rage, to incinerate something, anything, to extinguish the vile image that had just appeared in his head.

Sabo's hand instinctively went to his chest, where his own painful memories resided. He remembered Y/n's initial silence, her flinching at loud noises, the way she would sometimes stare blankly into the distance. He had dismissed it as shyness, as the natural caution of a child thrown into a strange new family. Now, those distant memories twisted into a horrifying new context. Garp's pity, his uncharacteristic gentleness, suddenly made chilling sense.

"Celestial Dragons?" Ace finally growled, his voice low and dangerous, laced with a raw fury. His hand, even now, instinctively reached for the hilt of a non-existent knife. "What... what did they do to you?"

Y/n offered a soft, almost imperceptible smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was a fragile thing, brittle around the edges. Her hand unconsciously drifted to her left side, resting gently over her ribs. "I think you know," she said, her voice a low murmur, barely a whisper in the quiet night.

As her hand settled, a horrifying jolt of memory struck Sabo. He remembered it with crystal clarity now, a vivid flash from years ago. One sweltering afternoon, during one of their countless rough-and-tumble games, her shirt had ridden up. He’d seen it then, a strange, swirling pattern branded into her skin near her ribs. He hadn't understood it at the time, dismissing it as some kind of odd scar or perhaps a peculiar birthmark. But now, the context of the Celestial Dragons snapped the puzzle pieces into place with sickening precision. It was the Hoof of the Heavenly Dragon, the mark of a slave. He’d seen it in books, read about it in hushed tones amongst revolutionaries, but to see it on Y/n… on his sister…

His blood ran cold. The rage that had been simmering in Ace suddenly ignited, a furious, silent blaze in his dark eyes. Neither of them spoke, but the air around them crackled with unspoken horror and a shared, profound grief for the little girl they had found all those years ago. The truth, finally unveiled, explained so much about the quiet, distant child she had been, and it shattered their hearts all over again.

Y/n’s soft smile returned, though it was still fragile, as if daring to break. She quickly pulled her hand from her side, as if the brief contact with the hidden mark had burned her. She saw the raw pain and anger etched on Ace and Sabo’s faces, the horror in their eyes. The shared revelation hung heavy in the air, threatening to suffocate the warmth of their reunion. But Y/n, ever resilient, wasn't about to let it consume them.

"Anyways, Sabo," she said, her voice a little too bright, forcing a change of subject. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, bringing an almost business-like air to her tone. "I know you have a lot to work on, being a revolutionary and all. Important stuff." She glanced quickly at Ace, who was still staring at her with a mix of fury and protectiveness. "But if you can, if you would, do you wanna come find Luffy with us? Just for a little bit."

The question hung in the air, a lifeline thrown into the sudden emotional abyss. It was an invitation back to their shared, simpler past, a distraction from the harrowing present.

Y/n didn't push for an immediate answer. She understood the weight of the request. Sabo had responsibilities, a cause he was deeply devoted to. She just held his gaze, a silent plea in her eyes that mirrored Ace's own unspoken hope.

"Think about it," she said, her voice softer now, less forced. "No pressure. We can talk about it in the morning, after we've all gotten some sleep." She glanced at Ace, who nodded in agreement, his initial fury having subsided into a quiet intensity. The night had taken a heavy turn, and the need for rest was palpable.

Sabo looked between them, a flicker of emotion in his eyes—longing, conflict, and then, a slow understanding. He knew what this meant to them, to all of them. The unaddressed pain of Y/n’s past still hung in the air, a silent testament to the resilience of their bond. He simply nodded, the weight of his decision clearly on his mind. The three of them sat in quiet contemplation for a while longer, the only sounds the crackling fire and the gentle hum of the distant jungle, each lost in their own thoughts as the vast, star-filled sky watched over their complicated reunion.

A shiver ran through Y/n, not from the cool night air, but from the raw vulnerability she'd just exposed. The sudden, stark quiet that had fallen after her confession felt too heavy, too revealing. She needed a moment, a space to breathe away from the intensity of their gazes.

"Well," she said, pushing herself up from the ground, a casualness she didn't feel in her tone. "It's been a long day. I think I'll turn in." She offered them a small, tired smile. "Don't stay up too late, you two. We've got a busy morning ahead."

She didn't wait for a reply, just offered a quick nod and turned, walking away from the flickering firelight and the heavy silence, leaving Ace and Sabo alone with the chilling truth she had finally laid bare.

The first rays of dawn painted the sky in soft hues of orange and pink, chasing away the lingering shadows of the night. The air felt lighter, fresher, though an unspoken understanding now hummed beneath the surface of their interactions. Ace and Sabo were already up when Y/n emerged from one of the revolutionary tents, rubbing sleep from her eyes. They offered her a quiet, knowing smile, devoid of the shock and horror from hours before, replaced instead with a gentle protectiveness.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Ace greeted, tossing her a piece of dried fruit he’d acquired.

"Morning," Y/n replied, taking the fruit and avoiding their gazes for a moment, still feeling a slight awkwardness about her confession. But the easy way they were acting, the lack of overt pity, was a relief.

They shared a simple breakfast with some of Sabo's comrades, the usual revolutionary base bustle resuming around them. As the last of the food was cleared, Sabo turned to his siblings, his usual composed demeanor firmly in place, but with a new sparkle in his eyes.

"Alright," he began, "I've thought about it. And yes, I'll come with you to find Luffy."

Y/n's face lit up, a genuine, unburdened smile finally breaking through. Ace let out a triumphant cheer, clapping Sabo on the back. "Yes! Knew you wouldn't let us down!"

Sabo chuckled, holding up a hand. "But," he continued, a mischievous glint in his eye, "there are a few conditions."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her gaze. "Oh? Lay 'em on us, Mr. Revolutionary."

"First," Sabo began, "this can only be for a short while. The Revolutionary Army's mission is too critical for me to be gone for an extended period. We find Luffy, we make sure he's safe and well, and then I return to my duties."

"Fair enough," Ace conceded, though a slight pout touched his lips.

"Second," Sabo continued, "no unnecessary trouble. I know that's asking a lot from you two," he glanced pointedly at Ace, then at Y/n, "but we need to be efficient. Our objective is to find Luffy, not start a war."

Y/n snorted, but nodded. "We'll do our best. No promises for when Luffy inevitably causes trouble himself, though."

"And finally," Sabo said, his voice softening as he looked at both of them, "we stick together. All of us. No splitting up, no going off on solo tangents. We do this as a team. For old times' sake." His gaze lingered on Y/n for a moment, a silent message of reassurance and protection passing between them. The promise was clear: they would be there for her, no matter what.

Ace grinned, pulling them both into a rough, heartfelt embrace. "Deal! Operation: Find Luffy, ASL style!"

On the Trail of Chaos

Finding Luffy proved to be significantly less of a logistical nightmare than locating the notoriously discreet Sabo. While Sabo moved like a shadow, Luffy left a blazing trail of chaos and good deeds wherever he went. Their journey, which took a little over a week, was marked by a series of increasingly absurd rumors and newspaper headlines.

"Heard he liberated an entire island from a tyrant just by yelling really loud," a fisherman muttered in one port, pointing vaguely eastward.

"Some giant rubber man apparently ate all the meat at a local festival," a tavern owner grumbled in another, eyeing Ace's similar appetite with suspicion.

Ace, Y/n, and Sabo listened to these tales with a growing sense of fond exasperation and nostalgic amusement. It was pure Luffy, through and through. Their week-long voyage together was a reunion in itself. On the small, swift ship Ace had commandeered, they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Days were spent poring over marine reports and newspaper clippings, tracking the most recent, most outlandish disturbances. Nights were filled with the easy camaraderie they'd missed so dearly.

Y/n found herself laughing more than she had in years, the simple joy of having her brothers by her side a balm to her soul. Ace would often spar playfully with Sabo on deck, their Haki-infused punches sending ripples through the air, while Y/n watched, offering tactical advice and occasionally joining in with her own swift moves. They shared meals, cooked simply over a small flame, reminiscing about Dadan's questionable cooking and their endless hunger as kids.

There were moments of quiet understanding too. Ace would sometimes glance at Y/n, a silent message passing between them, a shared awareness of her past. Sabo, ever observant, would subtly position himself closer to her, a comforting presence. The unspoken knowledge of Y/n's history with the Celestial Dragons added a new layer to their bond, a fierce, protective current flowing beneath their usual teasing and laughter.

As they neared their destination, the signs of Luffy's recent presence became undeniable. A distant plume of smoke, reports of a minor island's government being "reorganized," and the faint, yet unmistakable, scent of barbecued meat on the wind.

"That's him," Ace declared, a wide, excited grin splitting his face.

"No doubt about it," Sabo chuckled, adjusting his top hat.

Y/n leaned over the railing, a joyous anticipation bubbling in her chest. "Looks like our little brother hasn't changed a bit." She tightened her grip on the railing, a thrill running through her. The reunion was almost complete.

The island was a vibrant, chaotic mess, a testament to Luffy's recent visit. Buildings were half-repaired, banners of a newly liberated people flapped in the breeze, and the air was thick with the scent of festivities and, indeed, an abundance of meat.

"He's definitely here," Y/n grinned, jumping from their small boat onto the dusty shore. Ace followed, his eyes already scanning the horizon, and Sabo landed gracefully beside them.

They didn't have to search long. A booming, unmistakable laugh, followed by shouts of "Meat! More meat!" led them straight to the heart of the celebration. In the center of a bustling town square, amidst a crowd of cheering islanders and his own eclectic crew, was Monkey D. Luffy. He was just as they remembered him – boundless energy, an insatiable appetite, and a wide, beaming smile that could light up the entire Grand Line.

He was currently attempting to devour a portion of grilled sea beast nearly as big as himself, his straw hat slightly askew, surrounded by his equally unique companions. A long-nosed sniper was yelling excitedly, a green-haired swordsman was leaning against a wall looking bored but watchful, an orange-haired navigator was counting something on a paper, a blonde cook was passionately arguing with her, a tiny reindeer doctor was scurrying around, a cyborg was shouting "Super!", a skeleton musician was serenading a few islanders, and a quiet archeologist was observing the scene with a gentle smile.

"LUFFY!" Ace roared, his voice cutting through the festive din like a cannon shot.

Luffy, mid-chew, froze. His head slowly turned, his eyes widening to comical proportions. He blinked once, twice, then dropped his piece of meat with a thud.

"ACE?! SABO?! Y/N?!" he shrieked, his voice echoing across the square, completely overriding the celebration. His elastic limbs stretched, propelling him forward in a burst of rubbery speed.

He slammed into Ace first, nearly knocking the fire user off his feet, pulling him into a bone-crushing embrace. "ACE! You're here! I missed you!"

Before Ace could fully recover, Luffy bounced off him and launched himself at Sabo, equally ecstatic. "SABO! You too! What are you doing here?!"

Then, he turned to Y/n, his eyes sparkling with pure, unadulterated joy. "Y/N! You're here too! You got so tall!" he exclaimed, then paused, tilting his head. "Wait... no you didn't! I did!" He peered closer, holding his hand up to her head, then to Ace's, then to Sabo's, a puzzled look on his face. "Huh? You're all taller than Y/n now!"

Y/n simply laughed, a full, unrestrained sound, pulling him into a warm hug despite his height-related confusion. "It's good to see you, Luffy, you absolute idiot!"

Behind Luffy, his crew stood frozen, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and trepidation. They knew of Fire Fist Ace, the Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. And the revolutionary Sabo. But who was this woman, who commanded such familiar affection from their notoriously reckless captain? And why were these legendary figures being embraced like long-lost brothers and sister? The sheer absurdity of the scene left them speechless.

The initial chaotic reunion slowly settled into a joyous pandemonium. Luffy, bouncing with unrestrained energy, insisted on introducing Ace, Sabo, and Y/n to his crew, each introduction punctuated by exaggerated tales and Luffy's unique brand of storytelling.

"This is Zoro! He's super strong but gets lost easily!"

"And Nami! She's a greedy witch but also our navigator!"

"Usopp is the bravest warrior of the sea! Even though he's a liar!"

His crewmates, initially bewildered, were quickly won over by the genuine warmth and camaraderie between the four siblings. Ace's booming laughter, Sabo's calm smiles, and Y/n's easygoing nature created an infectious atmosphere.

At one point, as they all gathered around a massive bonfire, sharing food and stories, Luffy suddenly pointed at Y/n, a wide, innocent grin on his face. "Shishishi! Y/n, you're short! I remember you being sooo tall!" He stretched his arms upwards, exaggerating her childhood height. "You used to be like this big!"

A wave of laughter rippled through Luffy's crew. Even Zoro cracked a small smile. Y/n, however, just rolled her eyes, a fond smile playing on her lips. "Oh, shut up, Luffy. You've just finally grown into your ridiculous rubber limbs." She playfully swatted at his straw hat. "Besides, I'm not short!" she protested, though the teasing tone in her voice betrayed her lack of genuine offense.

Ace chuckled, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Yeah, well, someone had to stay the right size so we didn't mistake her for a giant." He winked, and Y/n playfully elbowed him in the side.

Sabo, ever the diplomat, interjected with a smile. "She's plenty tall. Just… we caught up." He ruffled Y/n's hair affectionately. "It's just a bit surprising, that's all. We all remember her towering over us."

Luffy, oblivious to the subtle nuances of their childhood dynamic, just continued to grin, happily munching on another piece of meat. "Shishishi! Still good to see you, Y/n! Tall or short!" He stretched his arm out and gave her a rubbery hug, nearly knocking her off balance.

The night continued with more laughter, shared stories of their separate adventures, and the comfortable feeling of being a family, finally reunited, even amidst the chaos of the Straw Hat Pirates' world. The height difference, once a source of Y/n's childish pride, was now just another fond memory, another layer to the complex and enduring bond they shared.

The bonfire roared, casting dancing shadows on the faces of pirates and revolutionaries alike. Luffy's crew, initially wary, had fully embraced the novelty of their captain's legendary brothers and sister. Franky, the cyborg, kept exclaiming "SUPER!" at Ace's flame abilities, while Chopper, the reindeer doctor, gazed at Sabo with wide-eyed admiration. Usopp tried to out-storytell Ace, leading to a hilariously exaggerated battle of tall tales. Sanji, the cook, kept trying to woo Y/n with elaborate dishes, much to Ace's mock-chagrin and Luffy's simple delight at the extra food.

Nami, ever practical, had managed to corner Y/n, exchanging navigator tips and quietly expressing her amazement at the sheer star power of Y/n's "brothers." Robin, the archaeologist, observed the familial dynamics with a gentle smile, occasionally asking a pointed question that showed her keen understanding of their intertwined pasts.

A Quiet Moment Among Brothers

As the night wore on, the party showed no signs of truly winding down, but Ace, Sabo, and Y/n managed to slip away to a quieter spot near the edge of the square, watching Luffy's antics from a slight distance.

"He hasn't changed a bit, has he?" Y/n chuckled, leaning her head against Sabo's shoulder.

"Not one bit," Sabo agreed, a soft, fond smile on his face. "Still chasing after the next adventure, still full of dreams."

Ace nodded, his gaze fixed on Luffy, a deep warmth in his eyes. "He's amazing. Stronger than I ever imagined he'd be." He then nudged Y/n gently. "You proud of him, 'shorty'?"

Y/n snorted, playfully punching his arm. "Of course I am, you brute. And I'm proud of you two as well. Look at us. Three legends, and me, a humble pirate captain."

"Humble, huh?" Ace raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall a certain captain boasting about her height not too long ago."

"That was then, this is now," Y/n dismissed with a wave of her hand, but a blush touched her cheeks. "Besides, you're just jealous of my superior strategic mind."

Sabo laughed, a genuine, unburdened sound that reminded them both of their childhood. "Some things never change, indeed." He put an arm around each of them, pulling them closer. "It's good to have us all together. Even for a little while."

The three sat in comfortable silence, their shoulders touching, watching their youngest brother unknowingly bring joy and chaos to an entire island. The years, the dangers, the separate paths they had walked—they all faded into insignificance in that moment. All that mattered was the undeniable, unbreakable bond of family, finally reunited under the vast, star-studded sky of the Grand Line. The unspoken understanding of Y/n's past was there, a somber undertone, but it was overshadowed by the sheer, overwhelming wholesomeness of their present, together at last.

[honeytae]

excerpt: ““still think it’s funny to fantasize about some other guy while your boyfriend is sitting right next to you?” he raises an eyebrow, maintaining eye contact with you as he sinks to his knees.”

word count: 3.3k

genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

warnings: mentions of american horror story (s1) and its mature themes, the reader has a crush on tate langdon, tae is jealous, and the reader is a MENACE. sexual themes including: kissing and heavy petting, they shower together but don’t do any washing, teasing, dirty talk, oral, spanking, unprotected sex, they do it against the wall you guysss

a/n: i recently rewatched season 1 of american horror story and was reunited with my complicated, toxic crush on tate langdon. this was the result. enjoy!

halloween is an extreme sport in your life.

at the beginning of your relationship, taehyung almost flipped when he attempted to enter the foyer of your apartment, only to be caught in a giant cotton spider web you’d installed while he was away.

so it’s no surprise when he arrives home on the first chilly day of autumn to the smell of your favorite pumpkin candle burning and an ominous instrumental playing out from the living room.

as he sets his bag down on the ground, his lips quirk in amusement as he approaches the back of the couch. the music fades back into a pronounced silence as the american horror story title flashes across the screen.

“ah, starting early this year?”

his deep voice breaks through the momentary quiet, causing you to turn around with wild eyes, clutching at your heart. you sigh in relief as he shoots you an apologetic smile, rounding the couch with tired steps.

“starting on time,” you emphasize, grinning as you lift your arms to extend to him. he crashes next to you on the couch with a huff, sinking deeper into your side as you press your lips to his temple, soothing your fingertips into his hair.

“how was today?” you inquire, briefly breaking apart from him to reach over and press pause on the remote.

tae only grunts in response, clearly not in the mood to revisit the day’s events.

you chuckle when he practically purrs at the massage you’re giving his scalp, choosing to brush off any further inquiries until he’s ready to talk.

“that bad, baby?” you murmur, and he lets his tongue run over his bottom lip before turning to look at you.

“i guess i just had other things i wanted to do today,” he smirks, raising a knowing eyebrow at you when you gasp excitedly.

“like watch murder house with me?” you ask, folding your legs underneath you as you reach out to shake your boyfriend’s shoulders excitedly.

“of course,” he plays along, stretching an arm behind you to pull you closer to his side. he rubs at the soft cotton of your tee shirt, lifting it with a push of his fingers to soothe over your skin.

upon pressing play on the remote, he drops his head to your shoulder as an old victorian house appears on the screen.

“you know,” he starts, “i’ve never seen this,” he continues, words muffled into your neck.

“ever?” you gasp in offense, taehyung shaking his head against you with a hum.

“it’ll change your life, babe. i’m telling you,” you grin, leaning back further into the couch as the season ramps up.

and after three episodes, taehyung is leaning forward, staring at the television in alarm.

“baby, i’m-”

“scared?”

“confused,” he clarifies, “i’m so, so confused!”

you laugh and reach for the remote, pausing it as he turns toward you to debrief.

“he just killed them?” he points to the screen, at tate langdon.

“yep,” you answer.

“but she’s fine with that?” he points again, this time at violet.

“not necessarily,” you say, “but he was just protecting her. he may be a bit of a psychopath, but he loves her so much, tae.”

he’s baffled as you nonchalantly lean forward to take a sip of your drink, your words playing over and over in his head.

“that's not love,” he starts, clearly upset, “what if he does that to violet?” he waves his hands in the air.

“he won’t kill violet,” you dismiss with a wave of your own hand, “he’ll only kill for her. because he loves her,” you emphasize again.

taehyung blankly stares at you, incredulous eyes flicking between you and the screen. he watches your features soften when you cast your gaze back to the blonde man on the screen.

“i mean, c’mon! look at how he looks at her,” you sigh as you resume the episode with a tap on the remote, dreamily watching tate and violet.

taehyung’s eyes don’t leave your face, skeptically scanning the way your expression changes every time tate comes on screen. the way you shift on the sofa, your eyes glistening whenever he and violet share a scene. suddenly it clicks.

“oh my god," he groans, "you think he’s hot!”

you roll your eyes, catching his amused expression out of the corner of your eye as you clear your throat. “i don’t think, i know,” you simper, matching his expression as he raises his eyebrows at you.

“so if you knew i did all this stuff, you’d still date me?” he posed.

“i would date you even harder,” you sigh dreamily, batting your eyelashes at him as he rolls his eyes.

“you’re sick,” he shakes his head in disappointment, settling back into the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table in front of you.

“hey, don’t be too jealous. i still love you,” you shift your foot to tap his thigh, taehyung stubbornly crossing his arms as he avoids your eyes.

“yeah, yeah. you’re missing your boyfriend up there, you know,” he nudges his chin over to the tv, jaw locking when he sees you immediately jerk your head away from him to look at evan peters on the screen.

he grunts, fed up, as he stands from the couch. when you reach for his hand, he grumbles something about having to take a shower.

he leaves the room even as you call his name, setting off for the bathroom and shedding his clothes along the way.

a few minutes pass and he hears the door slowly creak open, not at all surprised that you had followed him after his dramatic exit.

“come in,” he says over the sound of the water, baritone voice echoing off the shower walls.

he sees the outline of your figure approaching through the glass door and slides it open halfway, enough to see you but not enough to get water all over the floor.

“are you actually upset? i was only joking,” you pout, and immediately taehyung melts.

“no, baby,” he answers, “i’m sorry.”

you remain motionless, anticipating his further explanation.

“i had a pretty bad day,” he continues, his eyes flicking over to you with a hint of sass. “and seeing you ogle some psycho played by evan peters didn’t help.”

you frown and lean against the wet wall. “i’m really sorry you had a bad day,” you say genuinely, “as for tate, i’ll keep my mouth shut about him for now,” you mimic zipping your lips shut with your hand and toss the imaginary key across the bathroom.

taehyung tries to suppress a laugh, but fails.

“don’t keep your mouth shut, please. i like hearing you talk too much, even when you piss me off a little bit,” he grins. you grin too, but it’s more like the cheshire cat from alice in wonderland and he knows he’s in for it.

“you won’t even get a little bit jealous?” you ask, blinking at him as he shakes his head, water dripping from his tendrils to onto your crossed arms. “‘cause if i’m being honest, i was maybe half-joking,” you admit, shrugging as he raises his eyebrows at you, eyes filled with mirth.

“no,” he replies. you seem doubtful, ready to start teasing him again. “seriously,” he continues, “because he can’t do this-”

you whine as he traps you in his wet arms, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. you inhale a sharp breath when his tongue unexpectedly prods into your mouth, working against yours. he pulls away all too soon, pleased at your wanting gaze following him as he retreats back into the shower.

taehyung beckons you into the shower with him, looking at you expectantly.

“come here, baby,” he gestures, pouting when you just stand there, trying to hold onto your willpower. “i’m not above begging,” he continues, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

“okay, now that would be hot-mmph.”

your response is cut off when he smashes his lips to yours again, unable to play with the tension for any longer.

a surprised sound climbs up your throat at the feeling of his wet hand finding its way up your shirt, feeling the skin at your waist and pushing the fabric upwards. you break apart for only a moment so he can pull the garment up over your head, a low grunt rumbling in his chest as he pulls you to him and feels your bare skin instead of a bra.

the kiss intensifies, electrified by the heat of his jealousy and the steam from the shower. your tongue meets his with a synchronized moan and his hands are everywhere, determined to push your bottoms down your legs.

without a word, he pulls you back into the shower with him, breaking the kiss with a wet pop. he moves his lips over your jaw and down to your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin.

“tae,” you gasp shakily, tilting your head back and running your fingers through his hair. your breath hitches when he grabs one of your breasts, tweaking your nipple between his thumbs while humming against your skin. he leans back to admire his work, a cocky smirk gracing his lips as he meets your fiery gaze.

“still think it’s funny to fantasize about some other guy while your boyfriend is sitting right next to you?” he raises an eyebrow, maintaining eye contact with you as he sinks to his knees. he waits for an answer from you as he lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder, his thumb trailing over your skin in gentle circles.

“i,” you falter in your answer as you feel his breath fan out over your throbbing clit, taehyung inching closer with a smug grin. he clearly loves the effect he has on you, which makes you want to both push him away and pull him closer to you at the same time.

“didn’t think it would,” you pause when he presses his mouth to your inner thigh, continuing breathlessly as he closes in on where you’re needing him most, “upset you, fuck,” your jaw drops as he flicks his tongue over your clit, closing his mouth around it and sucking.

you shudder a moan when he trails his tongue down to your entrance, sliding his tongue inside and curling it up to stroke your walls. your leg flexes to push him closer to you, digging your heel into his back to encourage him.

in response, taehyung slides his hands up from their place on your thighs and gathers both ass cheeks in his palms, digging his nails into the flesh as he kneads it between his fingers.

you begin to rock your hips against his face, crying out his name when the tip of his nose grinds deliciously against your clit. taehyung hums against you, briefly pulling back to look up at you. his chest is rising and falling rapidly, out of breath from being suffocated by your thighs squeezing around his head.

“i’m sorry, did you say tae or tate?” he asks with a touch of sarcasm, playfully raising his eyebrows in response to your scoff.

“he’s not even real,” you answer, incredulous, before “-oh!”

your head falls back against the wall with a dull thud when he lifts his hands from your ass to come back down on the skin hard, the sting sending a tsunami to your core. you babble his name with a whole slew of expletives as he dives back between your legs and starts eating like it’s his last meal.

he sloppily eats your pussy, humming and grunting against you. the sound of his sucking and licking almost overpowers the continual spray of water from the shower head.

you’re moaning higher and higher and the band is just about to snap when he pulls back again, smirking at you when you whine in complaint, trying to pull him back to you by his hair.

“no,” he says simply, straightening back up on his two feet. you gape at him as he reaches around you to turn the water off, whining when his erection bumps into your thigh.

he slides the glass door open to reach his arm outside, returning with a towel in hand.

he traces the fabric over your skin, collecting the drops of water with scrunched eyebrows. you watch in agony as his large hand massages your lower abdomen, dipping low enough to tease you but not enough to satisfy you.

he withdraws his touch and wraps the damp towel around his waist, extending a hand to help you out of the shower. his wet hair sticks to his forehead, and you watch his other arm flex as he reaches up to slick it back off of his face.

you stay put as you stare into his dilated eyes, observing as he casts an appreciative glance over your face before dropping his lips to yours for a split second.

teasingly, he moves away from where you thought he would land and instead presses his lips to your nose. the action is done with such a sweet tenderness that it makes your heart squeeze in adoration.

“i’ll take care of you, i promise,” he mumbles against your lips, lacing his fingers through yours and sneaking a peck before you follow him out of the bathroom.

the heartbeat between your legs still throbs as you near your bedroom, ogling taehyung from the back. water slips down his skin in trails that accentuate his muscles, and you smirk as you realize he’s flexing them on purpose. he knows you better than you know yourself.

“hey,” you call, tugging his hand for him to look back at you once you cross the threshold into your bedroom. “you’ll always be my one and only hot guy,” you press your lips together, gauging his reaction. he grins, looking down at your intertwined hands before casting his gaze back up to your face.

“yeah?” his voice lifts in question, smiling when you nod. “i don’t even have to kill for you?”

“i mean,” you trail off teasingly, giggling when he rolls his eyes, scooping you up in his arms and pressing your back against the wall.

you wrap your legs around his waist as his hand comes to cradle your jaw, meeting your lips again in a clash of tongue and teeth.

taehyung breaks apart from you with a lopsided grin when you reach down to yank the towel from where it clings to his hips, tossing it aside without care. he lets a loud moan slip as you take him between your thighs, rocking your hips to grind your wet core along his length.

“god, you just can’t help yourself, can you?” he murmurs shakily, meeting your lips again when you hum in agreement.

he slides his cock into the space between your inner thighs, moaning into your mouth when your jaw slacks at his tip making contact with your clit.

“tae,” you breathe, “fuck me, just fuck me.”

he shakily exhales, pressing a sloppy kiss your cheek, glancing down between your bodies to position himself at your entrance. humming, his eyebrows pull together as he sinks into you.

your breath hitches in your throat as he stretches you, slowly entering you inch by inch. he bottoms out with a grunt, his palm soothing over your hip as he waits for you to adjust to him.

he shifts you in his arms as his forehead lowers to your collarbone, mouthing at your nipple and groaning as you clench and unclench around him.

when you beg him to move, he doesn’t hesitate to shift his hips back and thrust into you again, the sound of skin slapping skin growing more frequent as his pace increases. the angle is perfect, hitting your most sensitive spot and sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“baby, you feel so good,” you gasp, your breath catching in your throat as he pulls almost all the way out before plunging back into your gushing entrance.

his lips search for yours as he closes his eyes, losing himself in how you feel around him. he sensually licks into your mouth as you moan on his tongue, grinding your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

as you both approach your orgasms, your body shifts up the wall with each pump of his cock. you barely take notice when taehyung’s hand comes to rest on the top of your head to prevent you from bumping it on the nearby shelf.

the picture frames hanging nearby start to rattle on the wall with the way he pounds into you, but you still whimper for him to go harder.

a sharp cry escapes your lips when he hits that deep spot within you, causing taehyung to moan in response. your nails dig into his back and drag down his skin, leaving red marks in their wake.

“baby, i’m close,” you warn, whining softly as he continues pumping his hips into yours.

“me too, baby, me too,” he replies, mouth hanging open and eyebrows furrowed in pursuit of his own pleasure.

in a panic, you tighten your grip on him when he tries to pull out, desperate to keep him inside of you. you moan in complaint until he shushes you gently.

“babe, i’m gonna…” he trails off.

“cum inside! please,” you cry, taehyung immediately freezing at the thought. he looks at you, almost pained, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

after taking a moment to recover, he resumes thrusting his cock into you with determination, focused on getting you to your climax once he feels the uncontrolled spasming of your walls around him.

“taking me so well, fuck,” he moans softly, casting his gaze down to where you meet over and over again. his hand gravitates to your clit, rubbing your bud with just the right pressure to get you there.

his eyes roam back over your face as you begin to lose control, inching closer and closer to your peak. the joint effort of taehyung’s dirty words and the activity between your legs sends you into a flurry of overwhelming pleasure.

“you’re so perfect for me, baby, feel so good,” he groans, throwing his head back when you clench around him one final time. his moans mix with yours as he thrusts into you, pushing you closer to the edge.

your body starts to shake as your orgasm approaches, already delayed once, and you cum around him with a silent scream. he continues to fuck you through it, and every muscle in your body goes limp as quiet moans fall from your lips.

in your post-orgasm haze, you open your eyes, observing the way taehyung is completely lost in chasing the ecstasy you feel now.

“i’m gonna cum, oh shit.”

his voice jumps an octave when you deliberately tighten around him, sending him over the edge. he thrusts in once more and bottoms out, staying there with one hand gripping onto your hip, the other supporting himself on the wall beside you.

he drops his open mouth to your cheek with a raspy moan as you gasp, feeling him release inside of you.

taehyung takes a moment to catch his breath, gently removing your numb legs from around his waist to stand. he holds you close as he leads you to the bed, both of you collapsing in exhaustion.

you lay together in comfortable silence, your cool sheets doing little to relieve you from the sweat slicking your bodies.

“that was new,” taehyung finally says, laughing when you climb on top of his torso. he lovingly rubs at your stomach as you look at him in disbelief, lowering your mouth to his once again.

your embrace is softer this time, replacing the neediness from before. the passion is still there, taehyung sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and releasing it with a quiet sound.

“if that’s the reaction i’m gonna get,” you mumble, pausing for air, “i will spend the rest of my life making you jealous.”

taehyung rolls his eyes with a smirk, letting his head rest against the mattress as he directs his eyes to the ceiling.

“can’t wait.”

[insomniacirl]

(Excerpt from my Teen Wolf/Twilight au)

Stiles hadn't seen his cousin since his mother's funeral.

That isn't to say they've not kept in contact over the years though, and the latest news hits him like a truck. Bella has had her baby.

Though she'd assured him the wedding was close family only, he'd felt sorry for not being there to assess her husband to be and had sent her a new set of kitchen knives as a wedding gift just in case. Pretty soon after, she revealed that she was pregnant. Stiles was ecstatic- if not a little freaked out- but a few months without contact had made him worry.

He'd assumed that maybe there were complications of some sort towards the end of her third trimester, since that's when the messages and calls all stopped. Stiles hoped the baby had just been born earlier than assumed and had been causing all the usual mayhem of a newborn.

And thank whatever god is up there, Stiles' prayers were answered. Bella called him, flitting through a hundred rushed apologies and about a billion baby pictures that made him forget about any concern he'd felt at all.

The two agreed that this summer would finally be the summer Stiles travelled up to reunite with Bella and meet her new family.

Exams were over for now and the wolves seemed quiet- that was usually the calm before the storm, but he steals the chance while he has it. Scott isn't around so much anymore- it tears Stiles to shreds but that's a thought for a different time- so he settles for sending a message into the group-chat, just a vague explanation as to why he's leaving for a few weeks of their break.

Hopefully, this meant no assumptions that he'd disappeared again (it was two days out of town and Isaac and Erica had tracked him down with so much fear in their eyes he couldn't even stay mad).

Throwing a couple of bags into the boot, Stiles began the drive in his old and trusty ("Old and rusty more like." ... "Shut up Scott.") Jeep.

At around 4pm Stiles pulls up outside of the Cullen's residence, eyebrows raising at the freakishly rich architecture.

Before he can reach the door, Bella is rushing out to meet him, throwing her arms around his neck and stifling his joyful laughter in her shoulder.

His first thought is, 'This girl's got a strong grip' and his second is.. 'Oh, she's all grown up.'

He is too he supposes, proven right when Bella pulls back and openly gapes as she twists him this way and that, looking him up and down and up again like she can't believe he's taller than her now.

They grin at each other, blinking away slightly wet eyes- Bella can blame hers on hormones, Stiles cannot.

Suddenly in the doorway, a strong blonde figure appears, a man who he recognises from family photos as Edward, Bella's husband.

"Hey!" Stiles moves forwards to greet, "You must be the husband, I've heard so much about you. I might be a little late for the shovel talk but don't test your luck man."

Edward shakes his hand and smiles a little stiltedly, growing more comfortable as Bella moves to hang off of his arm.

He takes it in stride, so the guy's a bit introverted! Nothing wrong with that.

"Now," He clasps his hands together, "Where is my niece and when can I start teaching her the famed Stilinski mischief?"

Bella laughs sweetly, grabbing his arm and dragging him inside with impressive strength.

Stiles can't help but feel Edward's eyes drilling a hole through his skull from behind, goosebumps rise on his arms but he puts it down to the whole over-protective new dad thing. He'd be watching like a hawk too if some mystery cousin showed up wanting to hold his brand new little girl.

Renesmee stuns him into awed silence.

Huge, wide eyes stare up at him with interest- cooing to herself in her cot, chewing on her own tiny fingers.

"Well hi there little one, oh my goodness you're beautiful." His voice comes out gentler than he thought it would, but he always did have a soft spot for babies.

Bella lifts her and positions her in Stiles' arms, standing close by just in case- as if Stiles would ever let a fly land on this little girl now.

Rocking her, Stiles locks eyes with his cousin once again.

"She looks just like you." He whispers, stroking over the baby's cheek with his thumb, laughing when she grabs it and squeezes, "Has your strength too, jeez."

Bella shares a look with Edward that Stiles decides to decipher later, too busy admiring his niece, plotting how he'll become her favourite uncle.

"The rest of the family will be here in an hour or two, want me to help you with your things?" Edward offers, surprising Stiles with the sound of his voice.

He gives Renesmee one last squeeze before handing her back to her mother.

"Sounds great man, thanks."

Stiles is lead to a guest room fit for a king. Without the small traces of Bella dotting the area he thinks the place would look almost like a showroom.

As he unpacks a few things he considers the house itself. Huge, with lots of empty space inside, strange artwork and one too may rooms to count. It must be expensive and if he had to guess he'd say Edward has quite a few siblings if this is his parents' house.

Bella told him they'd been looking for a new property, but until Esme was a little older they were holding off moving.

Esme's eyes stuck in his head. Dark yet clear, like her father's..

He shakes off this train of thought. Christ, he's been way too busy babysitting the supernatural clearly- he needs to stop theorising and get changed before meeting their extended family.

Checking his phone once, he sees a few thumbs up in the group-chat and a conversation he's not a part of. The phone lands with a thud against his bedsheets, forgotten while he switches his shirt and jeans.

//

Bella follows him to the car with confusion written across her face.

Once he bids them far enough out of hearing-range he bursts.

"Vampires, Bella! They're vampires!"

Her face does something funny, moving from shock to anger to confusion again in about two seconds flat.

She laughs, "Did you hit your head or something Stilinski?"

Stiles groans, "Don't bullshit me right now Bella, I can feel it all over you- just took me a minute to translate. Sort of sped up the process when like twenty of them walked into the house. The vampire house. That you have invited me, a human, to by the way."

Bella looks stunned again, "How.. how could you possibly know that?"

"Fucking Hell, Belles. Supernatural creatures don't just live in your town- turns out we've both managed to carve a family for ourselves out of them, huh?" He feels half hysterical as he says it.

"What? You're- okay hold on a second.. so you're cool with this, right? The whole vampire thing?" She seems nervous.

"As long as you're okay with the whole me being human thing then yeah- every vampire I've met so far has wanted my head on a pike." Stiles sighs.

"They don't eat human- we don't eat human. You know I'm one of them too right?"

"Yeah, I assumed." He sighs in defeat.

"What is it?" Bella asks, concerned again.

Stiles kicks a rock under his foot dramatically, "Does this mean my niece can't bite me? Because if she looks at me with those big eyes I'm pretty sure I'd let her, free of charge, no consequence. Oh god.. am I the lame uncle now too?"

A laugh startles out of Bella and soon they're both giggling, hugging each other as they try to stand up straight again.

(...)

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of Wild Blue Yonder - Part Three

Excerpt from Benjamin Cook's article on Bernard Cribbins in DWM #598

It’s a crisp Monday morning in Camden Market, and all is OK with the world. Because it’s 16 May 2022 and, just for one day, Bernard Cribbins is back on Doctor Who. “Wilfred Mott! Now I feel better,” declares the Doctor, stepping out of the blue police box parked up on the cobbles. “Now nothing is wrong. Nothing in the whole wide world. Hello, my old soldier.” A pause. “Shall I give you a hug,” asks David Tennant, “before I say, ‘Hello, my old soldier’?” “Yeah, why not,” replies Bernard, sat in his wheelchair, centre stage, framed against the iconic TARDIS. “Give us a cuddle!” Clad in Wilf’s cozy brown coat and flat cap, Bernard is rehearsing the final, climactic scene of Wild Blue Yonder, the second of Doctor Who’s three 60th Anniversary Specials, alongside David Tennant and Catherine Tate. None of them knows it, but this will be Bernard’s last working day in a TV, film and theatre career that spans almost 80 years (he started work aged 14, at Oldham Rep in January 1943). It’ll also be Wilf’s final bow. “I never thought I’d see you again,” he tells the Doctor, welling up. “After all these years. Oh, Doctor, that lovely face.” A chuckle. “It’s like springtime… Is it David’s face I’m looking at?” queries Bernard. “Yes, you haven’t seen him in years,” the director, Tom Kingsley, jumps in, “and you could not be happier. You’re playing it just right, Bernard.” “Well,” says Bernard, “no acting required.” He’s genuinely delighted to be reunited with his Doctor Who co-stars, for the first time, on screen, in 13 years. “And that is just materialising, is it? – that thing?” he asks of the TARDIS. “Wilf’s been here, waiting?” “That’s right,” says Tom.

For other posts in this set, please see the #whoBtsWBY tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

Thank you to everyone who shared filming photos!

[hot-patootiee]

Omg so sad

Excerpts from the autobiography of one Robin Buckley.

Do you know that moment in movies where time slows down and the two main characters fall in love? That’s what it felt like with Steve, even if it wasn’t romantic, we belong to each other. We are soulmates.

I wish I had noticed his eagerness to jump in front of the bullet to save me sooner. I spend my nights imagining what I could have said to stop him. But, deep down, I know I could never craft the right words, in any language, to convince him.

That Ancient Greek myth that people were severed at birth, left to wander the lands looking for their other half. I found mine in Steve, together we were a whole person. And for a few years, we were each other’s everything. But my other half was severed too soon and now I have to wander this plane, waiting for the day I die to reunite with him.

Somehow I feel worse than a widow, because there is no paper to show how we were bound to each other. No marriage certificate. It’s almost like we never belonged to each other.

We still do belong to each other, some days I feel half dead and I know that it’s Steve pulling on my soul. We weren’t supposed to exist without one another, so maybe I’m doomed to a half life because of it.

I eat a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich on a sesame bagel every day and remember what he looked like. He ate it every morning I saw him in high school and I curse the missed time from not knowing him sooner.

I keep accidentally ordering his coffee for him. They slowly collect in my fridge all week, until I go to his grave to pour them out.

I still do my makeup the same way. So that even as I age, he’ll still be able to recognize me when I meet him again.

[heartinhyacinth]

Excerpt of a fic I’d really like to write, “Still in This World”, about Hua Cheng’s mother and her journey in seeking out Hua Cheng and reuniting with her son after 800 years.

// She hands the feeble excuse of a ‘gift’ to the unimpressed ghost in front of her. Two cautious hands hold each end at once—one belonging to her and the other to the crimson supreme.

The cube erupts in an explosion of white light and the air in the room is replaced entirely by its ancient outcry—its declarative discovery.

A blood relation is present.

Ruoye is immediately released and bounds her from shoulders to ankles as butterflies hover threateningly in the air above her. She slumps to the ground, knees hitting the floor with an echoing clack, but pays her new situation no mind, like she hasn’t realizes anything hostile has occurred at all.

Her eyes are wide with emotion, staring only at Hua cheng. Her child. Her child, her child, her child. This man is her child. And oh, she can see it clear as day. She wonders why she ever thought she’d have to bother with that damned cube. No device is stronger than this feeling. No rusty old box could know this fact better than she does as she stares into that single obsidian eye. This is her child.

“…Hong-er.” //

I’m not sure when or if it’ll happen though. I have horrible commitment issues when it comes to writing and I haven’t really written much as of the past few years aside from essays, metas, and persuasive stuff now and then. I used to adore writing stories (or rather, starting stories—again, issues with commitment), but since I began digital art it’s basically just been abandoned entirely.

I’ve always had a huge problem with starting things and then never touching them again once I set my gaze upon a new shiny thing after hitting a slight roadblock with the first thing *laughs awkwardly in unmedicated adhd*.

But I have a lot of ideas for this and it’s definitely something I really want to try hard on. So…..let’s see.

[harmonic-intervention]

You're killing me with chemistry - Chapter 2

Buck knows he’s bi. He knows what he wants. And what he wants, right now, is Tommy. Maybe his hand in marriage, because he’s getting desperate. Because, despite all of his attempts, and all of the positive responses from Tommy, for some reason, Tommy just … doesn’t act on anything.

Tommy knows Evan is straight. He asked both Howie and Hen about it, and he trusts their word on it. It doesn’t stop Evan from pulling him in, and making him fall head over heels for him anyway. Tommy knows better than to fall for a straight guy, he does, but … he can’t change it.

Everything would be easier if they just talked to each other, but where’s the fun in that?

Round 2 of the story based off on this post by @disaster-j After this, we have one more chapter, so I hope you'll like it.

Word count: 11,784 - canon divergence, bi disaster!buck & oblivious!tommy, sexual tension, bit more angst than the first round

Excerpt:

Tommy was in hell.

No other way to put it. He was in hell, and he couldn’t even really blame anyone, because he really should have known better and yet, here he was.

Evan Buckley. Simultaneously the best and worst thing that had ever happened to Tommy. It was the sweetest kind of torture, and Tommy didn’t put an end to it. He could. He couldn’t.

It normally took more for Tommy to find interest in someone. He was a guarded person, cautious. But from the first time they met, Tommy already knew that things were different.

When they got introduced to each other, Evan smiled so brightly it almost blinded Tommy for a moment. He was immediately taken by that gorgeous smile, by those big, sky-blue eyes. By the way that Evan practically fell into Howie’s words, cutting the intended introduction off with, “Evan, Evan Buckley,” as he held his hand out for Tommy to shake.

Tommy couldn’t be distracted that night, so he pushed all thoughts of Evan’s strong grip or pretty face away, spent the night tensed up and trying not to let the others notice how close they actually came to dying several times.

He felt horrible when he had to call it, like he had failed them all. But he really brought it down to the last second, and if they wanted to make it back to shore in one piece, they had to go. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach because he couldn’t deliver what Howie had asked of him, and because he knew once he was back on Californian soil, he’d be out of a job.

He’d risked it all. He’d lied to the fire chief. For nothing.

Only, by some miracle, a flash of red and Evan’s voice brought Tommy out of the downwards spiral of worries for his future before he could even start, and then he was immediately back in professional mode to call the discovery in. And then, they were there, ready to start the rescue before backup arrived.

Tommy had to bring out his best piloting to date, because despite all of the things he’d done, all the maneuvers he’d successfully executed, they were nothing on landing a helicopter on the slippery underside of a capsized cruise ship while it was being pelted by intermittent showers.

He made it. Despite the adrenaline rushing through him, despite his pulse fluttering like a bird under his skin, his hands were steady. There was not a single shake, not a single shiver. They had too much to lose, and Tommy had always been calm under pressure.

Only once they made their last flight to bring Tommy’s former captain and a missing child to safety and Tommy climbed out of the chopper did he allow himself to feel the emotional turmoil of the last couple of hours. His knees shook as he made his way down.

A bit of the residual fear left him as he watched Bobby reunite with his wife. And then, there was a hand on his shoulder, and he turned his head to find Evan there, the start of a smile pulling on his mouth. Tommy couldn’t help the answering grin.

[continue on ao3]

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

Part 1 (wip)

Illustrated excerpt from Lift a Sail, Chapter 6 “The Moment I Hold You to Me Is When I Stop Running”

Transcript (because I know, I know: my handwriting is atrocious. I am so sorry; I’m working on the text boxes as we speak):

Page 1

[Some time later…]

Ahsoka: You’re like a father to him.

Din: *

Ahsoka: I cannot train him.

Grogu: *hopeful*

Din: You made me a promise. And I upheld my end.

Ahsoka: You asked me to see to it that the child is trained. And I agreed to that. But I never promised to take him from you.

Din: He needs to be with his own kind. He has to be with a Jedi.

Ahsoka: Well, then that disqualifies me. I’m not a Jedi.

Din: What?!

Page 2

Din: But—but you have the same powers! I’ve seen what you can do!

Ahsoka: The ability to wield the Force does not make one a Jedi. The Order fell a long time ago, and I left before then. I only carry the name as a tribute.

Din: Do you know of any others?

Grogu: *seriously?!*

Ahsoka: I’m searching for one. A dear friend. I have a better chance of finding him after today.

Din: And your friend? Would he train Grogu?

Ahsoka: I can’t say. He’d love to meet you, I’m sure. But I can’t commit him to anything. He has a family to get back to and many years to make up for.

Page 3

Din: I gave my word to…

Ahsoka: “Reunite him with his own kind.” I know. He let me see that memory.

Din: He… remembers that?

Ahsoka: He does. And if I recall correctly, there were actually two roads…

The Armorer: Until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father.

. . . . .

I figured if I’m gonna illustrate any part of the fic, I should start with the crucial point it actually diverges from canon. The entire story is built on the premise of “what if Ahsoka didn’t send Din and Grogu to Tython?” This is the first part of the altered scene corresponding to the end of Chapter 13: The Jedi.

This is technically still a work-in-progress—I’m working on a coloured/painted version (with proper typed text, don’t worry). This is also not the full conversation/scene.

Big thanks to @roughdaysandart for the Razor Crest references and (just in general for inspiring me to make a comic of my fic because, my, your work is amazing!)

[op-reader]

Cry with me

Something is pulling him towards the idol. He presents the Bel leaves and starts pouring water. The moment his hand touches the Shivling, a vision flashes in his mind.

A fight.

Arrows flying.

There is someone in front of him.

Dhambodbhav! Your death is near!

Laughter.

I cannot be killed. Anyone who breaks through my armour dies.

 Arrow pierces through the armour.

Laughter once again.

A gasp of breath. The one whose back is facing him, drops dead to the ground.

Not the Asur, but the one fighting him.

NARAYAN!!!! A scream of pure agony.

The agony rips into him. His soul.

[venomwrites]

My knight ficlet/update is obviously delayed but here have the excerpt you all really want: Caitlyn and Vi reuniting after she saved Vi. Updates are almost done though!

“Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn pauses doing up her cloak as her mother approaches. It feels as though she has aged her parents ten years in the span of a few days. Caitlyn tries not to shift her weight as she stands there. Her mother is her sovereign, but she’s also her mum. And the past few weeks with her have been a kindness Caitlyn never thought she would get. But it makes this next bit harder. So much harder. There is a part of Caitlyn that just wants to throw herself into her mother’s embrace and never leave. Even if they have just fought over whether or not she will be shuffled around. They look at each other for a moment before her mother moves forward and wraps her arms around her. It’s a tight embrace, but for once there are no words that accompany it. No warnings, no reminders, just a tight squeeze that Caitlyn sinks into. She buries her face in her mother’s shoulder like she has not done since she was a child, since she had to push up to do it instead of curving her neck down. 

“I’ll see you soon,” she says, when they finally must pull apart. 

Her mother nods as Caitlyn fights the burning that has spread from her ribs to her throat. It’s never easy to watch her mother take her place as the queen, but this time it hurts even more. All of the other Knights who wear her face look equally emotional, they always do. It’s a kindness concocted by someone in her line, someone who realized it was probably a step too far to ask the heir not to be emotional at every parting. But this time it is harder. This time Caitlyn feels the weight of parting even more. It aches through her as she is absorbed by the crowd. Everyone here would lay down their lives to protect her. Guilt burns through her as Caitlyn aches with the knowledge she has very nearly rendered their sacrifice irrelevant with her selfishness. Even if one of them was shifted to take her place, they would know. Her mother would know. Caitlyn has no-one to blame for that but herself. Even though she held on, even though it didn’t happen. The longer time spent with her mother, the harder parting—all of it feels like some kind of punishment she deserves. Caitlyn can feel the sob building even as she pushes it back. Her parents are watching. It’s hard to hear a few of the others sob but Caitlyn tries not to. This time it’s a losing battle. She’s one of the first at the gates. This feels like running away and leaving a part of her behind. A part of her soul, perhaps. 

Because the gates opening and Caitlyn knows it’s not her heart. 

That is already elsewhere. 

“Vi!” 

The name tears out of her as Vi whips around. Her eyes go wide at the sight of her. Caitlyn barely notices the shadows under her eyes, the unkept length of her hair, the white knuckled grip on her sword—all of it falls away as she throws herself through the half opened gates. Vi’s arms are open and that is all it takes for Cailtyn to fling herself into the embrace. For all her shock, it only takes a moment for Vi’s arms to lock around her. In that moment Caitlyn can hear the pound of her heart, the catch of her breath, but then she hears the sigh of relief as Vi’s arms clutch her back. Dimly Caitlyn can hear the chaos surrounding them, but it flies by as though happening to someone else. The only thing that matters is the way Vi tucks her head against hers as she holds her close. 

“Gods, Cait—“ she breathes and Caitlyn just tries to press herself closer. 

“I know,” she says.

Vi lets out a weak laugh instead of arguing. She buries herself closer and only Caitlyn can hear the choked half-sob that leaves her. It makes Caitlyn clutch her back even tighter. Vi smells horrible, but somewhere under that smell of stress and worry is the smell of Vi. And that’s what matters. Especially as the adrenaline and relief make Vi sink into her embrace. They shift somehow from Vi holding her up to Caitlyn returning the favor, both of their knees embarrassingly weak. But Caitlyn’s side reminds her that she’s healed but not entirely. And the idea of dropping Vi isn’t one she’ll entertain. 

“Let’s get back to the inn,” she says. Vi nods against her, “when did you last sleep?”

Vi pulls back with a weak sound that might be a laugh and Caitlyn gets her first real look at her in weeks. Everything in her aches at the sight as she takes in her appearance. She begged them to send word to Vi, but it’s clear that wasn’t done. Caitlyn reaches out and touches Vi’s cheek. She turns her face into her hand, her breath coming down Caitlyn’s wrist. But when she opens her eyes, she manages a weak smile. 

“You can’t go worrying about me,” she says, “you’re the one who almost got yourself killed.”

“Then why do you look as though you’re dying?” Caitlyn asks helplessly. 

Vi doesn’t have to answer. It’s the same reason Caitlyn knows her heart was not left in the palace. That it hasn’t been there for years now. It’s why Vi lets her lead her back to the inn and get her into the bath. Why even though Vi is exhausted and Caitlyn’s ribs are aching, they won’t sleep for hours. There’s nothing to catch up on, it’s not as though they have done anything for the past weeks. But neither can quite believe this worked. That they are back together when everything from tradition to logic says they shouldn’t be. But for now, Vi smiles and shrugs and even manages to wink like they are fresh of that muddied field where they first met. And just like back then, when Vi also had no business winking and smiling, Caitlyn cannot help but smile back. 

Together they leave the palace behind. 

[wangxianficrecs]

to breathe a sigh or two by sunflowersfield

🔒 to breathe a sigh or two

by sunflowersfield (@sunflowersfield)

G, 5k, Wangxian

Summary: Before he can say anything, Lan Zhan hands him a folded piece of paper. Wei Ying opens it to find a flyer of some sort with a phone number written at the bottom. “What’s this?” Wei Ying asks, feeling slightly dazed. “A flyer for the local holiday market. It is scheduled for two weeks from now, and they are looking for vendors.” “Oh! Well, I’ll be sure to stop by and see you, then!” Wei Ying says. “If that’s okay, of course…” “I will be there,” Lan Zhan replies, nodding. “And there is an open booth right next to mine. Wei Ying, they are looking for artists, and I know you would do a wonderful job.” Or: Aspiring Artist Wei Ying reunites with Pokémon Vendor Lan Zhan after many years apart. Kay's comments: Oh man, I'm feeling Wei Wuxian in this story so much. A) I can totally relate to his struggles as an artist and how he views his own art and whether it is "real art". B) I too fell in love with Pokémon Vendor Lan Zhan within 0.2 seconds. He's so perfect. He's so great with kids. (Also, as someone who almost always has streams running in the background, yeah. Major mood.) Wangxian are so soft in this story, really gave me all the good fuzzy feelings. Excerpt: And then, somehow, it is Wei Ying’s turn to step forward. “Hello, how can I help you—” Lan Zhan begins, but he pauses mid-sentence when his eyes focus on Wei Ying’s face. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says a little too loudly, feeling suddenly unsteady. “Hi, it’s me! I mean, maybe you don’t remember me. Obviously, it was so long ago…but…hi, it’s—” “Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan interrupts, and the warmth in his voice makes Wei Ying pause his rambling. “You do remember,” he replies, astonished. “Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan repeats, sounding just as astonished. “Of course, I remember you.” For a moment, Wei Ying forgets that they are surrounded by people. He forgets that there is a long line of impatient people standing behind him. And he even forgets that their entire exchange is being live-streamed. For a moment, he just beams at Lan Zhan, taking in the sight of him and wondering how it can be possible that he is even more lovely up close.

pov wei wuxian, modern setting, modern no powers, pokémon vendor lan wangji, artist wei wuxian, falling in love, reunions, fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, christmas, winter

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[explosionshark]

i don’t go here but i wanna know about Arcane toxic smut #1 for the wip game! toxic how 👀

Okay so I have to explain. In arcane season 2 the characters that have made me insane (Caitlyn and Vi) briefly get together (sort of?) and then have this horrible, explosive breakup right after.

Vi deals with this by turning to binge drinking, self isolation, dyeing her hair and getting the shit beat out of her in an underground fighting ring (hot).

Caitlyn deals with it by fucking a subordinate and also by becoming a liiiittle bit of the head of a police state influenced by a hostile foreign power to ruthlessly hunt down the criminals responsible for the attack on her city that took her mother's life (also hot). It sounds bad but there's nuance okay - she was really sad and she looked good in her evil little cape.

The show resolves this some months later by having Caitlyn and Vi reunite in an encounter that ends with Caitlyn betraying her evil allies to help Vi. That betrayal includes a plan that requires Vi to pose as her captive in a scene that involves hitting her in the face, blindfolding her with a hood and leading her around in handcuffs.

LOOK, I KNOW

So Toxic Smut #1 was built around the idea of revisiting those really loaded dynamics before the two characters were able to really resolve their issues and reaffirm their relationship. The seed of this idea later grew into my fic It's A Long Ride (Tell Me You're Ready) minus the kinkier bondage elements.

Ultimately this one fell apart bc I couldn't take it seriously - this is why I don't write PWP most of the time. There was no place in the timeline I felt I could comfortably fit it and the premise was a little too out there for me to buy into as it was.

I ended up using a couple sections in my other fic and the concept is one I might return to at some point but for now it lives in the graveyard

Excerpt below (included the initial prompts I was attempting to integrate and some notes)

35. “does that hurt?”

22. “stop looking at me like that!”

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Caitlyn mutters against Vi’s cheek, lips drifting up from her mouth, across her face, landing on her temple.

Vi spares a thought for pretending she hadn’t heard, her fingers busy with the stupid clasps on Caitlyn’s jacket. She can’t help but notice that, despite her words, Caitlyn hasn’t stopped the trail of wet kisses she’s dotting from the place behind Vi’s ear to the column of her neck. Typical of her to say one thing, do another — it frustrates Vi enough to have her pull back, sneer up at her, “That mean you wanna stop?”

Caitlyn doesn’t really, that much was clear even before she got that stupid, wrinkle in her brow. She waits a beat, frowning, and sighs out, “It’s just that… We haven’t even talked about…”

“You gonna leave?” Vi asks, cutting her off. Caitlyn’s right, of course — they probably shouldn’t be fucking at all. Definitely shouldn’t before they get a chance to clear things up. But Vi doesn’t really want to talk right now — she wants to get off. She’s throbbing with want, can feel how hot and damp she is, briefs clinging to her like a second, constricting, maddening skin. And talking would be an absolute mood-killer. “Call it off?”

Vi has a memory from when she was a kid — taking a fall through a splintered floor of some derelict old building in the Lanes. She can hardly remember the specifics — fucking around on her own just like Vander always warned her not to, not paying attention to where she was going. Really all she remembers is after: choking on dust, breathless with pain, dazed by the fall. Limping home, embarrassed, scared, angry at herself; locking herself in the bathroom and pulling the splinters out herself, dizzy with nausea and agony. As miserable as removing the splinters had been, the aftermath was worse — she can still taste the rag between her teeth, hear the fizz of the peroxide when she poured it over the wound, the stinging pain of scrubbing it down under the faucet to clean it. Her leg had been a raw, aching mess for weeks.

Vi’s chest goes a little tight, even now, just thinking about it.

And honestly that’s what the idea of talking with Caitlyn feels like right now.

She’ll do it eventually because she has to, there’s nothing else for it. But it’s going to fucking suck and she sure as hell doesn’t feel like it right now.

There's too much to do right now to waste time picking over that old wound. There's her sister in a cell somewhere right now, there's Ambessa and her armies gathering their strength, there's the miserable, greedy maw of Piltover poised open, throat gleaming asking for more. More bodies, more blood, stand with us this time, you might get something out of it if you behave.

And despite it all, Vi can't help the fact that part of her just wants this. Caitlyn’s attention, Caitlyn’s hands on her body, her breath in Vi’s mouth. She wants to be touched by someone not trying to fucking kill her for a change. She wants something to feel good for five fucking minutes—

“Am I going to leave?” Caitlyn repeats, voice taut, snapping Vi out of her thoughts. Her face has gone carefully neutral in the way it only really gets when she’s pissed the fuck off or terrified. Vi wonders if Caitlyn realizes she’s digging her nails into Vi’s skin from where her hands had slipped up behind Vi’s jacket.

“You wanna talk so bad, we can do it after,” Vi says, shrugging, grateful when her voice comes out detached, cool, no hint of the itchy panic scraping the back of her neck. “Unless you’re about to bail again.”

Caitlyn frowns, severely. Vi can't help but wonder if she's feeling guilty or offended by the question. Probably both. “I’m not.”

“You’ve done it before,” Vi can’t resist needling her, even though it sounds petty even to her own ears. It’s not like it isn’t true. It’s not like she doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m not,” Caitlyn repeats, taking a step closer as if to prove it. She presses the flats of her palms into the small of Vi’s back, pulls her in so that their hips are touching again. Her voice, barely more than a puff of air, as she gazes down into Vi’s face. “I just don’t want to be something you regret.”

“Too late.” Vi says. Caitlyn flinches, darts her eyes away, lips tugging downward for the briefest moment before she nods, schooling her expression. Vi wishes it felt better than it does, to land a barb like that.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn grits out. “For— for all of it. I know, I—”

“Just… shut up,” Vi groans, darting forward kissing Caitlyn hard, again. “Do you want this or not?” She wants it to come out demanding, rough, but even to Vi’s ears the words sound too much like begging. Vi swallows hard and steps forward, grabbing Caitlyn’s wrist and yanking it towards her, rocking her hips up into Caitlyn’s hand between her legs to get her meaning across.

It’s crass, almost clumsy but it gets the job done — Caitlyn’s eyes darken, her nostrils flair, her lips part as she sucks in a gasp, swaying forward into Vi.

It’s good, Vi thinks, letting go of Caitlyn’s wrist and feeling her take over the movement, making a fist and pressing her knuckles hard against the seem of Vi’s pants. This is what she wants, has wanted — to make Caitlyn snap. To be pulled in close, rough, to be made to pay for everything. For all of it. For mouthing off. For wanting so much. For being so weak.

“You’re sure you want this?” Caitlyn mutters, voice low and smoky in Vi’s ear, but her eyes, when they search out Vi’s gaze, are clear, serious.

The underlying questions is, of course — why would you?

Caitlyn betrayed her, abandoned her, lied. She changed, became the very force she once swore to Vi she would shelter her from.

What happened at the commune wasn’t nothing, but does a too late crisis of conscience really undo all the hurt and distance and resentment that’s built up in the weeks since Caitlyn left her behind?

What kind of person would still want the woman who put them through all that? What kind of damaged idiot would let her ever have another chance?

Rather than answering, Vi leans forward, stretches up a little to press her mouth back into Caitlyn’s. The kiss is rough and thorough, and with her hands buried in Caitlyn’s hair, it’s easy to guide her the way Vi wants her. She leans in heavily, takes desperate sips of air through the corner of her mouth in the brief seconds that their lips disconnect, not letting up until she finally feels Caitlyn surge back into her, nails scratching down the skin of Vi’s back.

Finally, breathlessly, Vi pulls away, catching Caitlyn’s bottom lip between her teeth and biting down hard enough to make Caitlyn wince.

“That answer your question?” Vi lets her voice drip out like bitter, dark coffee, gritty and thick, a battery acid bite to linger on the palate.

Vi can’t help but feel a surge of pride and arousal at the slight flush to Caitlyn’s face, bottom lip swollen and red, the heavy breaths she can’t quite disguise as she pushes forward, crowding Vi back against the wall. And god it feels good — Caitlyn’s hands, those long strong fingers framing her face, the subtle pressure as she tilts Vi’s face back, her mouth up, sweeps her tongue past Vi’s lips and into her mouth like she has every right to, like _______

Vi sinks into the kiss. She lets her eyes slide shut, can’t quite hold back the embarrassing little moan that slips from her throat when Caitlyn’s hands card through her hair, or the way she shivers despite herself when Caitlyn smirks against her mouth at the sound.

“Violet,” Caitlyn’s eyes are hooded, when she pulls back a little, lips slightly parted like she’s poised to speak. Vi can’t help the way she tenses. Don’t ruin this, she thinks. Shut up, don’t ruin this. But Caitlyn just sighs, leans her forehead into Vi’s and whispers her name again. “Vi…”

Something shifts in that moment, with Caitlyn’s eyes staring down into hers. She brushes her lips over the scar on Vi’s eyebrow delicately. Rubs the pad of her thumb over the swell of Vi’s cheek, where the butt of her rifle had bashed it. She noses her way along Vi’s hairline, kisses the shell of her ear, breath a soft warm tickle over Vi’s skin and she can’t take it anymore, twisting her neck and capturing Caitlyn’s mouth again.

It is a soft kiss. Gentle, almost chaste and the way Caitlyn hums softly against Vi’s lips makes her chest clench painfully.

She tries to fix it. Slanting her mouth against Caitlyn’s with more force, letting her lips drop open, tugging Caitlyn against her harder, gripping fiercely on the other woman’s hips.

It’s not enough. Caitlyn lets Vi draw her in close, she lets Vi plunder her mouth, but she remains steadfastly, devastatingly tender. It feels so much like it had the first time, in the tunnel, Vi feels her lungs tightening, her breath shortening, her eyes going hot and watery. She thinks about that moment, how she begged — promise me — and Caitlyn—

I won’t.

Was it a lie, then? Or just a clever way to dupe some Undercity rube who would only hear what Caitlyn wanted her to hear? It didn’t matter, in the end, whether Caitlyn was a liar or if Vi had just been too stupid to see the truth — it had all come apart anyway. In the end, it had worked out like things always did. Vi had been left alone, bruised, discarded like so much Zaunite trash. She had been so, so stupid.

With a groan of frustration, Vi shoves Caitlyn back. She’s not expecting it, stumbles but doesn’t trip, looks at Vi with a stricken expression. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t working,” Vi mutters, turning and wiping her eyes discreetly with the heel of her palm, trying to make it look like she’s brushing her forehead instead.

“Vi?” Caitlyn’s voice is shaky, face a study of woundedness and concern. “What did I do?”

She's so earnest, so convincingly genuine it makes Vi’s stomach ache. It makes her want a drink. It makes her want to go back, to find a way to stop everything from falling apart in the first place.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine.” Vi grits out, frustrated. She hates the way her heart won’t stop racing. The way Caitlyn won’t — “Stop looking at me like that!”

Caitlyn grimaces, half turning on her heel. She rubs her palms along her thighs, craning her neck over her shoulder to glance at the door. “Should I—?”

“Caitlyn, I swear if you ask me one more time if I want you to go, I'm going to lose it,” Vi runs a hand through her hair, tugging hard enough to send spikes of pain along her scalp. Weirdly, it helps — a dull bit of pain that bites through the noise in her head that’s been making her panicky, skittish. “That's never been what I wanted.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Caitlyn’s voice is steady. “What can I do? What do you need?”

It’s cool water rushing through her. The question she’s been waiting to be asked. Go figure that when it finally happens, her throat sticks, tight, wordless. “I…”

“I want to give you what you’re looking for, Vi. Whatever that is. I mean that,” Caitlyn whispers. The look on her face is fierce, wanting, the lines of her body tense with desire. “Tell me what you want.”

Vi doesn’t let herself second guess this time. She blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, “Do you have another pair of cuffs?”

Caitlyn, to her credit, only takes a moment to blink before answering. “Not here.” She pauses, biting her lip, casting her gaze around the library. “But you could tie me with something else.”

“Not for you,” Vi corrects, feeling herself flush.

“Ah,” Caitlyn breathes and then clears her throat. “I owe you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Vi grunts, watching mesmerized as Caitlyn transforms again before her.

That tension she’d been holding unspools, her body going loose and languid.

“Then I’d better get you what you asked for,” Caitlyn says

-

Makeout sesh becomes too much like the moment in the tunnel. Vi can’t relax into it, feels too raw and vulnerable. This is when she asks for the cuffs.

C: it this a good idea?

V: probably not. But it’s what I want. And you owe me.

C: —-

V: if you don’t like it then leave

C: dammit I’m not going to leave again

-

^This is veeeeery rough work though and the first thing I attempted to write in the fandom so please be gentle with your evaluation. The better version of this fic exists and is linked above

[yaralulu]

Summary: Reuniting with Tamlin after fifty years has only made Lucien want more. What’s the worst that can happen on a night out with an old friend?

Words: 12,743

A/N: this is technically chapter 2 of it’s been a long, long time (ik it’s been 46 years 🤧) but i decided to make it its own fic bc the vibes were just WAY too different. i think chapter 1 works well as a standalone so i didn’t wanna mess with that. this is for me and the messy ppl who wanted to watch tamlin and lucien destroy their lives in real time 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️.

Read on AO3

Excerpt below (I have shame and won’t post my smut on tumblr):

He goes back.

A week later him and Tamlin are at the bar again because apparently Lucien really wants to recreate all those times he was carried home by Tamlin. For old time’s sake and all. The bar’s more hollowed out this time of the week, more room for them to breathe and talk and take the night a little slower. Strech it out, savor every rare moment of it. And true to that, Lucien is still on his first drink, enjoying the way it’s creeping into his head, giving him a light buzz that pumps his confidence and makes it easier to smooth-talk around Tamlin. The mother knows he needs it.

It’s not any easier being around him. He’s still getting used to how different everything is about him now, from the way he looks down to the way he acts. Still learning to be okay with the fact that he doesn’t know him quite as well anymore. It’s why he’s here; he wants to catch up and know this version of him. 

It’s weird hanging out with him again—maybe weird isn’t the right adjective but it’s…nervewracking. Lucien is nervous, breaking out with it actually and he’s not used to being nervous, doesn’t know how to act when his body and mind seem incapable of aligning their reactions and working as a unit like they should. This is different than last week. Last week was just an introduction to the new chapters of their lives, them doing the good old catch-up tale and overcoming the shock of how much time has really passed. But this…this is them hanging out. Like two normal friends, bound by no expectations or rules, and it feels like Lucien has time-jumped a hundred years into the past. To an era where being around each other was as mindless as breathing, as routine as waking up every morning. Second nature. 

Some of that echoes even now.

They talk and they laugh and there’s a rhythm to their interactions, a familiar flow that keeps waving in. But it’s like they’re dancing and Lucien can’t seem to remember the steps or how to shuffle his feet. He’s getting there though. With every minute he spends with Tamlin he picks up a move, remembers a step, fills in the gaps of this dance of theirs that’s as old as time. 

It’s weird. It’s new. It’s uncharted territory and home all at once.

“You really want to go head to head on a knife throwing game?” Lucien says, challenging, brows raised above his half-empty glass. They’ve been here half an hour or so, and Tamlin has been eyeing the group of males playing at the dartboard since they got here. It’s apparently sparked his interest.

Tamlin narrows his eyes, flashing bright in the dimmed light. “I don’t like what your tone is implying.”

Lucien can’t fight the smirk that tips up his lips. “That what?” He leans in a little closer, and Tamlin’s scent crowds him—clean soap, the natural musk of him that’s so him, a hint of roses like always. It’s dizzying. Makes Lucien feel off balance on this stool, like he might just fall off the longer Tamlin looks at him. He wants to blame the alcohol but he’s barely half a glass in. This is all Tamlin and his wicked effects.

“That I’m gonna lose,”  Tamlin remarks, offense all around the word lose though his grin betrays him. There’s a sudden determination beaiming his face, a familiar competitiveness burning in him that Lucien wants to get close to.

“Well. You are.” He coos, cocky and confident with a wide grin to go along with it. One he remembers makes Tamlin a tad wild. Tamlin mirrors it almost too perfectly, eyes glowing at the face of some competition, and its all it takes before he’s pushing through the crowd and dragging Lucien to the dartboard to prove him wrong.