#writing fic based on tumblr posts lol

[saatorus]

i LOVEEE ALL UR FICS i lit read all them in one night and im giggling and kickijg my feet omg begging to read more, I JUST KNOW U HAVE THE BEST FICS ASKING IF YOU HAVE ANY RECOMMENDATIONS i feel like u have the best ones SEND THEM OVERRR PLS🙏🏽🙏🏽

AHHH TYSM TYSM TYSMMMMM and omg here a few of my all time favourites! a lot of these are ao3 based because i enjoy longgg fics :3 most of these have nsfw elements involved! i'll probably edit this and add more when i find more!

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

first and foremost... my love.. convergence theory by achilleid. oh my god. i saved this fanfiction to my ipad as a pdf because i genuinely was floating when i read this. the mother of all gojo x reader fanfiction dare i say.. 240k words of awesomeness! also is completed ^.^

1 . beneath the silk by phyx_morgan -- the best, i repeat, THE BEST sukuna fanfiction to grace this planet. its currently on going, and 256k words of pure ecstasy

2 . the way you love me by peachessay -- SO FUCKING DELECTABLE!!! fwb satoru gojo x reader, 128k wordcount

3. fever daydreams by buttholesupreme -- satoru gojo x reader but reader was prev married to naoya zenin (icl i got into naoya bc of this fic i know hes horrible but like...) 146k word count, completed! i ghosted a guy to read this btw, thought i should add this here

4. silent love by strbymacaroon -- sukuna x reader,,,bro. i think this fic literally made me hallucinate and dream about sukuna. sooooo good! 134k words, completed.

5. burning desires by ellierexx -- FUCKKK i need tattoo artist choso hshdjuhsj this is so good i love love LOVE! 200k words, completed

6. missed connection by sahm2k2c -- gojo satoru x reader! ok so i read this back in like 2022 but if its in my bookmarks its probably really good im picky as fuck. 99k words, completed.

7. mlb! megumi series by lokissweater on tumblr -- megumi fushiguro x reader, the series that inspired me to also start writing :') idk word count bc its multiple parts but i LOOOOOVE

8. geto suguru's guide to fraternising with the enemy by gojover on tumblr -- oh my god, i had to rewatch harry potter after this it's written so well! wc 24.2k

9. editing this in after its been posted for 2 hours BUT sincerly yours by saintobio on tumblr-- i had no business crying over this in 2021 its sooo good but so angsty i wanted to k word gojo. 213k wc

10. the arrangement by nezuscribe on tumblr -- satoru gojo x reader UM i love.. i loveeeeee arranged marriage au so MUCH ngh. two lengthy parts, so super good

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

as u can tell i'm a huge plot enthusiast LOL

[destroyndecay]

Mine.

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

Era: Commonwealth

Summary: Daryl indulges in one of your kinks.

Warnings: Poorly written smut, p in v, swearing, knives, choking

Word count: 1k (ish)

A/N: This is my first time writing smut so I am very scared LOL. The first fic you post on tumblr being smut can be very nerve-wracking. Just had Daryl indulging my knife kink rattling around in my brain and I got inspired.

~~~~~

“Shut th' fuck up, slut.”

A hand was pressed down onto your mouth as a growl exited his, while the other grasped both your wrists and held them above your head. Daryl's length was moving back and forth through your walls at a dizzying pace while your eyes rolled into the back of your head in pure bliss. Though your eyes were now wide open and staring directly at the redneck on top of you because of his previous comment. Your breath hitched and you nodded your head fervently. 

The hand that was previously pressed onto your mouth moved down to squeeze your throat, all while continuing to pound into you, causing a whine to crawl out of you, your mouth still closed. 

“Tryin’ to stay quiet for me like tha'. Good fuckin’ girl.” 

The mix of degradations and praise combined with the added pressure increasing on your throat had your head spinning and a knot building in your lower stomach. “Who do you fuckin’ belong to? Who is it, huh?” Daryl purposefully leaned down to growl against your ear, knowing each and every one of your turn ons. The mix of pain and pleasure was too much for your brain to handle, not being able to think a single thought, let alone a coherent sentence. So instead of answering, you gave a high-pitched moan in response, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth and onto your chest.

He smirked. He fucking smirked, and somehow quickened the pace.

Daryl gave a raspy grunt in disapproval and gripped your chin that was previously on your throat, forcing you to look at him directly. “Didn't hear ya, slut. Who d'ya belong to?”

You snapped out of your haze, not wanting to disappoint nor disobey him. “Y- … You.” You struggled to stutter out in between your fast breaths. 

“That's.” Thrust. “Fuckin’.” Thrust. “Right.” Thrust. 

He slowed his thrusts down to a lazy pace before stopping completely, earning a dramatic whine from the depths of your soul when you felt him slip out of you. “Dar!” You dragged in an annoyed tone, Daryl already stepping off the bed and onto the carpet. He simply chuckled lightly and rolled his eyes.

“Relax. Wanna try somethin'.”

He grabbed something from off of the shared dresser you had on the other side of the room, making sure you didn't see what it was and hid it behind his back. Slowly, he walked back to the bed and got in a sitting position, making direct eye contact the whole time, building anticipation. “C'mon over and ride me, but don't face me.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but you did as you were told, crawling on your hands and knees to the middle of the bed where Daryl now was, and gently eased yourself back onto his cock, bouncing slowly. “What's this about, Dar?” You questioned, your breath already beginning to quicken.

“You'll see. Just keep ridin', sunshine.” Once again, albeit confused, did as you were told, already getting comfortable with the position, letting small moans slip out, all while Daryl rubbed your hip with his left hand and still holding that unknown something in his right.

Immediately after those words left your mouth, his long, sharp, hunting knife met with the base of your throat, while his other free hand gripped your hair and tilted your head back, exposing even more of the soft flesh. And he was pushing on it, increasing the pressure with every thrust. He's went out hunting with that knife before you two even met, so you had no doubt he knew what he was doing, and that thought somehow turned you on more than you already were. He swiped it slightly along your clavicle, almost drawing blood.

“You ready, baby?”

Even while you were experiencing the bliss of riding his cock over and over, that elicited a chuckle from you. Why was he being so secretive? “For what, babe?”

Your mouth went slack. No noise exited you besides your exaggerated breathing and your, frankly, embarrassing loud moans.

“There it is. You're such a fuckin’ slut. My slut. Makin' you feel so good, huh?”

All your senses were heightened. You were on cloud nine and barely even heard what he said besides registering his low, raspy, growling. Daryl was making you a wet, blubbering mess, and he only wished he could see what those eyes looked like rolled in the back of your head. So he resorted to the voice again. (He figured out about that kink the very first night you spent with each other. “You're really obvious, y'know that?”)

“Use ya words, bitch. Are you mah slut ere not?” Daryl spoke lowly but with assertion, his accent becoming more and more noticeable.

“Yes! Yes! Oh fuck, yes!” You responded emphatically, not only answering his question, but letting him know how good he's making you feel. 

“You gonna cum all over this cock for me, sunshine?”

“Fuck, yes. Yes, I will. Oh fuck…” You're surprised you even answered his question with the state you were in, but you did, albeit breathlessly. Daryl chuckled and put a bit more pressure on your throat, moving up to the middle this time. 

The knot in your lower stomach got tighter and tighter, and with a couple thrusts to your sweet spot while rasping sweet nothings in your ear, you saw white, feeling your cunt drip with Daryl's cum down onto your thighs and roll down onto his. You almost collapsed forward, but you felt a pair of strong arms grip your midsection before throwing the knife away from the two of you with a flick of his wrist.

Daryl placed gentle kisses on the side of your neck and then your temple. He hugged you from behind, his cock still buried within you.

“Hey Dar?” He slowly eased your back up against his firm chest, making it easier for him to lock eyes with you.

“Hm?” He purred.

~~~~~

“Can you do that again sometime?” You asked softly in between trying to catch your breath. He chuckled once again and punctuated it with a sweet, open-mouthed kiss to the lips.

“Hell yeah, I will.”

God. I NEED HIM.

[myownwholewildworld]

masterlist

find me in ao3 | discord: arran.macleod | notifs blog

well, hello there! c:

i go by the name of arran in the world wide web, she/her, based in the uk and in my 30s era. i have been writing on and off for almost 20 years now on different platforms, but this is really the first time i venture into the fanfic realm in tumblr, so please be nice! >: my first language is not english but spanish, so if you spot any spelling mistakes, i apologise in advance lol

i've been obsessed with pedrito for quite a while now, so i thought ― i love writing, i love pedro, and, above everything else, i love love love drama, so why not give in and write some fics? i'm sure i'll find some like-minded people here!

i do appreciate any feedback you may want to share with me, as well as interactions (asks, reblogs, comments, likes, anything really!). also please feel free to drop me a message if there's something you would like me to write, i'm always open to suggestions ♡

please assume all my work is 18+, so mdni! do not repost, translate, nor use my work in any way without my explicit permission either.

i'll try to keep this masterlist as up to date as possible.

love,

arran xx

(find my work under the cut!)

🤭 ― fluff

😳 ― light smut

💘 ― explicit smut

💢 ― dark/sensitive theme

🤕 ― angst

🩸 ― graphic content (violence, gore, etc)

wherever you go

series masterlist - 🤭💘💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. summary: after the events of 26th september 2003, you find yourself under the wing of the miller brothers. it's the older one who catches your attention, but also the one who drives you fucking crazy. you inevitably find yourself gravitating towards him while trying to navigate this postapocalyptic word you're stuck in, with more than one unpleasant surprise...

uniformed!joel one shots

series masterlist - 💘💢 status: ongoing. pairing: uniformed!joel x f!reader. summary: a series of one shots where we get to see the one and only joel miller and all his sides... as long as he's wearing a uniform, ofc. i'm open to any requests you may have, no matter how wild! check #uniformed!joel to see what's already been suggested. come along, don't be shy!

the dark series

series masterlist - 💘💢 status: ongoing. pairing: Boston QZ!joel x f!reader. summary: in a post-apocalyptic world, Joel is a man with dark urges, ones that only you can satisfy.

a man called joel

series masterlist - 🤕💢 status: tbd. pairing: jackson!joel x f!reader. summary: joel has lost everyone he held dear: sarah, tess, ellie. and while his brother still remains by his side, joel can't help but drown in the solitude of his jackson home. the rooms are too empty, too silent, so his heart is vacant. he's truly had enough of this life, given up to the point where he's decided to end his own suffering. that is until you move in next door and slowly worm your way into his life....

an old man!joel miller collection

collection masterlist - 💘💢 status: ongoing. pairing: oldman!jackson!joel miller x f!reader. summary: a smutty collection of fics and drabbles for the one and only, joel miller in his peepaw era. no bad things ever happen here, you and him live your best lives together in jackson.

acta, non verba

series masterlist - 🤭😳💘💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: conqueror!marcus x ofc!reader. summary: scotland, 83 AD after the battle of mons graupius. the romans have come up to the boundaries of their empire with a relentless desire to conquer the savages that inhabit the highlands. they won't rest until the Caledonian tribes are subjugated. Marcus Acacius is in charge of your clansmen's fate, but if such fate is similar to your family's, you know you need to do something about it. as the only living daughter of the tribe chief, your people look to you for leadership. power plays, treason, deception, rebellion, war, love, heartbreak, betrayal. and two souls, destined to despise each other, trying to navigate it all.

per aspera ad astra

series masterlist - 💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: marcus acacius x emperor's daughter!reader. summary: when your husband dies in battle, his best friend is there to console you, to help you navigate your grief as he does his own. as you become close, feelings flourish. but your father, emperor Traianus, sees Marcus' romantic advances as a way to dethrone him.

love is heartbreak

read here - 🤕🤭💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: marcus acacius x ageless!f!reader. summary: inspired by the age of adaline. kissed by the goddess juno on your day of reckoning, you are brought back to life, condemned to wander the earth for a century. until you meet the other half of your soul who offers you the life you yearn for. but will you be strong enough to accept such promise?

the road to rome

read here - 🤕💢🤭💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: marcus acacius x war prisoner!f!reader. summary: Gaul, 52 BC. Julius Caesar and his bloodthirsty army have won the final battle of the Gallic Wars atop Mont Auxois, after sieging the oppidum of Alesia for more than a month. with the war coming to a bitter end, you, the daughter of the defeated Vercingetorix of the Arverni, are taken hostage. General Acacius is tasked with bringing you to Rome, letting you believe you’ll only be an entertainment to the masses. little do you know, that’s not the case at all…

the mists of avalon

read here - 🤕🤭💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: arthurian!marcus acacius x cursed!f!reader. summary: you've been regent to the netherworld for as long as you can remember. as the lady of the lake, you know providence will put king marcus acacius in your path. so when he invokes you, you go to him, ready to fulfill your destinies.

the way to a great wide somewhere

read here ; easter eggs - 🤭💘🤕🩸 status: completed. pairing: beast!din djarin x f!reader. summary: cursed to spend the rest of his days in Mand'alor, Din Djarin faces a threat that may break his peace: you. -or- a retelling of the beauty and the beast story.

when the moon howls

read here - 🤭 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. summary: you meet javier in a café during your sabbatical. you see the man that no one does ― the one who is broken, defeated, crushed by his time as a DEA agent. so you make it your purpose to shine some light on his life, one pumpkin spice latte at a time. -or- the story of how you two fall head over heels for each other c:

when the grief howls

read here - 🤭💢 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. same couple as "when the moon howls". can be read as a oneshot. summary: javi and you go back to yours after your idyllic pumpkin patch date and he stays over. you comfort him when his demons catch up with him.

pretty nails

read here - 💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. summary: javi pays for your manicure 😏

wicked whims

read here - 💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. (same couple as "pretty nails") summary: javi catches you playing wicked whims in the sims and decides to make your fantasies a reality.

[joeyalohadream]

💕☀️Joey's Masters of the Air Fanfiction Recommendations - Part 1 ☀️💕

Being part of a fandom that is small, yet so incredibly talented has been such a breath of fresh air for me. My reading list has been a mile long (and growing every day!) for far too long and I've recently been making more time for myself to simply read. And I wanted to take some time to shout out some of the wonderful stories and authors that I've really enjoyed lately.

All of these recommendations are Clegan stories because that is what I personally most enjoy reading. But there are other blogs and talented authors out there that write for all sorts of pairs in the fandom that I encourage people to engage with!

Adding a cut because it’s a looong post!

☀️ The Bucks in a Boat by magic_glow (not sure if the author has a tumblr!)

Explicit, Post-War, Falling in Love, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort

This is an AU based on the movie The Boys in the Boat (starring our lovely Callum). The plot follows John returning home from the war, where he still served as a B17 bomber pilot. But he enrolls in school and times are tough, so much like in the film, he tries out for the rowing team for the free room and board. Where he meets, and immediately forms a strong bond with, Gale Cleven. The author manages to keep the characterizations true, while still making them their own. They manage to incorporate almost every Mota character in a meaningful way and I especially love the sweet friendship between John and Brady in this one. It deals with the trauma of War and life and also displays a beautiful sense of camaraderie as they form as a team and learn to lean on one another. It’s wonderfully written and the world building is phenomenal. The pace is perfect and the story is compelling and John and Gale’s connection is explored with care. This is my current ‘comfort fic’ and I look forward to reading how it all develops. (And the title is so cute!)

☀️ He may be the Reason by c_goldthorn (@c-goldthorn)

Explicit, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy

This a modern au based on the movie Notting Hill and I recommend this one, whether or not you've seen the movie! As someone who has never seen the movie, this fic is my first experience with the plot and I'm loving every minute of it. The author infuses humor and care and love into her stories and you'll fall in love with all of the characters in this one. It's romantic and sweet and angsty and the longing is palpable. I am always patiently waiting for me. (And she has a couple of side stories in the universe posted as well that are very sweet!)

☀️ one way, or another by hart (@blixabargelds)

Explicit, Kidnapping, Strangers to Lovers, Getting Together

Okay, so literally everything that she writes is fantastic. No one quite hurts Gale like she does (lol) and it's done with care and reason and it's beautiful to read. This story though, it's hard to find words to describe it. It's a modern au where Gale orchestrates his own kidnapping (for reasons) and John is the kidnapper. A truly unique plot that is executed so perfectly that I read it twice in one weekend. It's angsty, especially as Gale's circumstances seem to get more and more bleak, yet there is this light, romantic air to it throughout because of the dynamic the author creates between John and Gale. It's FUN. And reading should be fun. It's truly a masterpiece and you'll be hooked from the first paragraph.

☀️ before you say 'cut', wait five more seconds by phlegmatic (@irregularcollapse)

Explicit, Actors AU, Workplace Relationship, Sharing a Bed

She is one of those gold standard creators in my opinion. Not just in the Mota fandom, but just in general. The way she tells a story is captivating and you get the sense that every word written is there for a specific reason. The care she puts into the craft is evident and appreciated and while I’m too shy to have ever really interacted with her, I’m such a huge fan. I could rave endlessly about her work, but onto the specific story I’m recommending! This story follows Gale, an up and coming actor that gets his 'big break' when he's cast as one of the leads in a big movie. He's starring alongside John, who is already an very established name in the industry. They fall into bed (and never really leave for long) and along the way, start to fall for each other. It is clear that this universe the author created means a lot to them. It is so authentic and focused on acting as a craft, as an artform and I learned a lot about the industry from reading this. The turmoil, buzzing under the surface, that Gale feels about his career and his future is so palpable and so vivid, I felt the anxiety along with him. Her version of John in this story is one of my favorites. He's sweet and raw and brash and caring. I really could gush forever about this one. The characterization is so impressive, they're them, but they're also hers and they're layered and real and beautiful. Honestly, just go read it. You'll understand why I rambled and still couldn't manage to say anything eloquent.

☀️ Packages and Pet Names by youllneverrecme (@recmeidareya)

Modern Setting, First Meetings, First Dates, PTSD

Any pet name you could possibly imagine John using for Gale, this author has already thought of them (and more!). In this one, Gale is a war veteran and John is his local UPS driver. I went into this one thinking it would be a silly, funny, sexy story (and it is!), but it also so much more than that. It's tender. And it's sweet and it's gentle. The way this author writes Gale is beautiful. He feels so real to me. The care and thoughtfulness that clearly went into his background as a Soldier is very important to me. And watching him open himself to new things, to John and to love? It's been a wonderful journey to be on. And John in this? Absolutely amazing. He's funny and sharp and soft and he cares about Gale so much. I am genuinely enjoying watching them fall in love in this and I can't wait to read more. Every one should be reading this.

☀️ just stay with me (baby stay with me) by bcoflove (@bcolfanfic)

Teen+, Modern Setting, NYC, First Kiss

This story is so sugary sweet. The author has created a 'Cornerstore AU', on tumblr and posted a fic on AO3 on Super Bowl Sunday and I'm a little obsessed. Gale moved to NYC and ended up in bad living situation. But he finds solace in visiting a corner store where John works. I'm in love with this version of Gale. He's unsure of himself and he's awkward and he's so sweet. And John is a force of nature. Funny and kind and in Gale's corner. I hope the author is inspired to write more for this au, because I'd read a 100,000 words of this.

☀️ Driving In Your Car (I've Never Felt Safer) by Thetrystingtree (@alienoresimagines)

GA, Mutual Pining, Boys in Love, Fluff

One of my favorite things about this authors writing is that it always feels a bit like I’m reading poetry when I read her stories. There’s a lightness, a beauty to the way she weaves words together. It’s vivid and authentic and I can clearly picture the settings and feel the emotions in her stories. This story in particular is such a sweet premise. Gale is tired and John drives him around base in the jeep to allow him to rest a bit. The other night, I was lying in bed and I wanted something calming and gentle to read before I fell asleep. So I went to this authors page and found this story to reread because I knew her words were what I was looking for in that moment. It's sweet and funny and, just like all of her stories, always the perfect bedtime story.

☀️ I Won't Go Where You Can't Follow by stars_remain2 (@stars-remain2)

Teen+, Whump, Violence, Protective John

If you know me, you know I have a weak spot for Gale whump and John being protective and this story has both in SPADES. It is a canon-divergence, looking a what if? scenario where Gale doesn't go over the wall and is punished for his escape attempt. He's beaten while John is forced to watch and it's brutal and painful, but so well written and so beautifully explored. The way the guys rally around Gale to help him get through the march, the way John cares for him, the way Gale is so self-sacrificing...it's all woven together into a fantastic story. The cliffhangers are killing me, but I'm hanging on because it's too good to stop. And I just know some supreme comfort is coming after all of the hurt.

☀️ Looking for Eight by VoluptuosPanic (@weimarweekly)

Explicit, Modern Setting, Rodeo AU, Repressed Feelings, Love

I'll embarrass myself if I go on to much about this fic because it brings me such joy. John is bronc rider and Gale is farrier. In this modern au, they met and spent a few days together on a road trip, years ago and then they reconnect at a rodeo. This story is so calming and so gentle and so tender it will melt you into goo. The authors style is so unique and beautiful. Her words flow together in a way that honestly reminds me of water running over river rocks in a stream. I swear I have a dopey smile on my face while I read each chapter (and then reread it). This fic is breathtaking and wonderful and just one of my favorites I've ever read. I've never read a sweeter version of Gale and John. They're so tender with each other I could melt into goo just thinking about them. Read it!

☀️ cicada season by Swify_Fox (@swifty-fox)

Explicit, Modern Setting, PTSD, Past Child Abuse, Therapy

Oh, Swifty. A fandom staple and a masterclass talent. This fic is no exception. A modern au where Gale is a Phd student, working on an intense thesis breeding a rare breed of frogs and John is a contractor, hired to remodel the house Gale lives in with Crank and Marge. The research that went into this is evident and impressive and makes the story that much more compelling. Gale is practically made of barbed wire in this (for good reasons I dread to learn) and he's so three-dimensional. Each chapter begins with a therapy session for Gale as he works through trauma from his childhood. It's such a well crafted story in every aspect. John and Gale's dynamic is so fun and contentious and full of potential for something more. I'm in love with this one. You can feel the care that went into this one and every word you read means something special. Rachel's mind is truly a marvel and you are missing out if you haven't given this one a go yet.

This was fun! There is so much talent in this fandom and I have been having such a good time reading. As I was making this, I kept thinking of more and more, so I'm sure I'll be making another one of these at some point. 💕

For now though, I'm taking a little break from Tumblr. I'll still be writing and reading and posting on AO3, but I need some time off from social media for personal reasons.

Just wanted to spread some love before I disappear for a little while ❤️

[midnight-mourning]

Valentine's is Over! What now?

Hello! This is a bit of an update post now that DCA Valentine's has finsihed up. Feel free to read what you want (though I suggest at least skimming all of it so you're aware of what's happening with me) and make sure to vote in the polls!

Starting first and foremost, thank you to everyone who submitted requests! They were all genuinely lots of fun and I hope the stories I wrote for them were enjoyable ^^ Couldn't have done the event without y'all so thank you for the lovely ideas

@rosescarletful @amarynthian-chronicles @dangerva @alynwrench

@luckyyyduckyyy @fishm0ther @juukai @divinit3a @zenkaiankoku

@starspindle @that-one-unknown-artist @milosmantis @pip-plz

Secondly, I want to give a MASSIVE thank you to the lovely wonderful amazing artists who volunteered to make doodles for the stories!! Everyone killed it and I'm so very appreciative of you taking the time to make things for my silly bits of writing shfkjsdkljflks Like seriously, it was so flattering to have people initially reach out/agree and then even more so to see the art you made as a results i just AHHHH I CANT SAY THANK YOU ENOUGH, appreciate you guys very much guhhhh <333333

@divinit3a @cozycitrus @soupdweller @juukai

HIGHLY reccommend everyone to go check out their blogs & content in general, everyone makes soooo cool art and oooo you wanna go give them some love soooo bad

Alright, with that, let's get into the meat of things; what's next?

put under the break bc there's several things happening, again skim if you want but make sure to do the poll though!

Gen writing update

I had a few requests come in after they closed (no worries to those who did so! I know it was a little confusing regarding such) so i'll be writing those when i get the chance and sending them out into the world, beyond that however, any request-based things are closed (for now) if I get any during this closed period I'm sorry but I'll have to ignore them/not do them. I'm too busy with life/other wips to add them to my list, sorry!

Holiday Spirit is going to be my writing focus for the next couple weeks! It's about halfway done and I'd like it finished so I can move on with things lol

Confused spirit is going to take a bit, as like i've said before I'm writing multiple chapters back to back for the purpose on ensuring proper flow/building my buffer back up, i know it's been a bit but believe me it's been on my mind guhh

In general i have some shorter form content/drabbles & oneshots I want to write, so be on the lookout for those >:)c

Speaking on all of the above, if you want to stay up to date with my writing, I highly reccommend joining the tag list i have! My things tend to get buried otherwise >-< Just tell me you'd like added and I'll include you :)

Poll!

I've done requests now for December/holidays, and Valentine's now too. There's no major holidays coming up for a while, BUT there is an event, in May... specifically... So,

Additionally, since the art aspect of Valentine's went so well, I'll probably look for artists again to do some drawing and will run it pretty similar to this time, so if you're interested lmk :)c

Comments & Asks

While I won't be posting/active for a few weeks, I WILL be going through and answering comments, asks, and so on from people that have been collecting in my inbox oof

PLEASE know that if you've left a comment or sent me an ask that I've seen it and appreciate it very much!!! I just have not had the time to sit down and properly answer them yet, but i will during this break!

Going Dark

I was saving this for the end just because it sounds worse than it actually is.

I'm going to take a break from posting/tumblr/etc for about a week or two and spend some extra hours doing my research stuff. I'm not behind or anything (and def always put it and school first dw) but I kind of want to try and get ahead with it just because of how strict my timeline to finish is 😅

I also just want a bit of a break from constantly writing and maybe do some other hobbies when im not on the research grind. I'll be back at it (again more casually) in a few weeks tho!

by the time you see this I have already begun lol

Leftover things

Since you're here, here's the link to my writing masterpost that includes 99% of my writing stuff!

I also realized while writing this post that I don't have an actual writing tag for non-event related writing... so i'll be fixing that as well during my break

I've gotten a question or two regarding whether my stuff is commision-based or if I have a kofi (which i'll be replying to that ask directly dw whoever you are...) and my answer to that is not currently! BUT, i'll continue to think on it for those who might be interested, if it's something I do consider doing it'll be a bit from now, but I appreciate the thought from those who asked!

I think that's all, thank you again to the requestors and to the lovely lovely artists for this event, and also thank you to those who liked/reblogged my things during this event! It's very much appreciated and I'm glad people had fun ^^ Bye!

[arcanefandomweek]

Announcing Arcane Visions!

Taking place during the entire month of October, leading up to the release of Arcane season 2, this event will focus on speculative fanworks and their predictions for our beloved cast of misfits.

Week 1: Revenge - Alliances - Angst Week 2: Discovery - Betrayal - AU Week 3: Invasion - Truth - Fluff Week 4: Invention - Freedom - Last Kiss

Will Ekko and Jinx make up? Is Ambessa invading? Any ideas on Warwick's fate? What are Vi's feelings, putting on an enforcer uniform? All those and more are great questions to answer for this event. We provide some guidance, but you're welcome to pick your own prompts!

You can create a work per week, or one per day if you're insane, or even have a single contribution. You can post a fic's chapters throughout the month, or can cosplay as characters in their new looks... All fan works are welcome, including meta speculation.

We want to help build the hype and reknit the community together!

To participate you can post (from October 1st) on tumblr or twitter using the tag #arcanevisions, and can ping us on tumblr @/arcanefandomweek or twitter @/Arcanefanweek. You can also submit your work to the Arcane Visions collection on AO3, which will open the first day of the event.

Please also check out our Rules and Guidelines under the cut. If you still have questions, check our FAQs or send us an Ask! Don't be shy, and please reblog!

Rules and Guidelines

Fanworks created for this event should be focused on Arcane character(s), and their potential story beyond Arcane 1. You may feature whatever canon character(s) you want, and if inserted judiciously, LoL characters too. While reader inserts and original characters are also allowed, canon Arcane characters should be the focus.

All types of fanworks, including fic, art, moodboards, podfic, playlists, meta, embroidery, and more, are welcome for this event.

NSFW or potentially triggering content, even if canon-typical, must be properly tagged with any applicable content warnings. For the comfort of the mods, please only submit NSFW works if you are 18+.

This event allows all ships and themes so long as everything is appropriately tagged. You will be contacted if your submission is under-tagged. Poorly tagged works will not be reblogged.

ANY use of leaked footage, content, or information will lead to your account being blocked. We do not promote or condone the spreading of spoilers. Please do not base your speculations on leaked information.

Racist, queerphobic, ableist, misogynistic, or otherwise hateful or bigoted behavior or fanworks will not be tolerated. Your work may include aspects of bigotry and oppression so long as they are properly tagged. For example: A fic that features a character facing ableism is allowed with content warnings; a work that includes ableist tropes as part of the narrative or erases a canon disability is not.

If you are submitting visual work, please consider writing an image description!

If you are unable to post on tumblr or twitter, but would like your work cross-posted via our account, please get in touch.

Submitting Posts to AO3, Twitter, and Tumblr

AO3

Please submit your works to the AO3 collection Arcane_Visions. This collection will be opened the day the event starts, and remain open for at least a month after it ends. It will never be hidden, made anonymous, or deleted. If you can't find it in the suggested drop down, enter the name Arcane_Visions manually.

Twitter

If you want us to retweet your posts, @ us (@Arcanefanweek) and use the tag #arcanevisions. If your post includes NSFW or triggering content, a rating or trigger warnings must be included in the post. NSFW material should include the tag #nsfw or #arcanensfw, or you may want to consider adding a sensitive content filter.

Tumblr

If you want us to reblog your posts, use the tag #arcanevisions. Due to Tumblr’s glitches regarding posts with links not showing up in the tag, we also recommend that you @ us (@arcanefandomweek) in the body of your post just to make sure we see it!

If your post includes NSFW or triggering content, a rating or trigger warnings must be included in the body of the post. Any NSFW or triggering material itself must be under a read more cut.

If your post is longer than a few paragraphs, please place the rest of the text under a read more and/or include a link to AO3.

Mods

The event is currently only managed by the blog admin, @space-blue (formerly Blue Daddy's Girl). More mods may be announced closer to the date. If you're interesting in modding for the event, please get in touch.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 32

Make Your Bets Now!

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

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 12.6k+ 😳😳

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

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

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

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

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

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

Fic Updates & Questions:

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

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

Alternate POV Symbols:

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

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

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

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“I told you to run.”

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

The white stag. The hunted. The prey. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the fear was back. 

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

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

Don’t cry. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You ran. 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

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

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

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

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

She’s not breathing!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I, yes…”

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

“Shut the fuck up,” Buggy growled.

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

Gone. 

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

No, baby, don’t say that.

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to be safe?”

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

“Was it safe to run away with pirates?”

What the fuck is he doing to her? 

“No.”

“Good. Now, tell me about the clown.”

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

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

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

“Thank… Thank you, doctor.”

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

“No, doctor.”

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

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

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

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

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

I’ll get you out of here, Y/N. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leeches…

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

Hawk was right, this security is something else.

“This isn’t a dream.”

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

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

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

It’s time to get serious.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

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

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

“That’s Miss Doublefinger, yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“FUCK!!”

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

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

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

“Don’t say that, Buggy.”

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

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

Her words were worse though. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s twisted,” Buggy continued.

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

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

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, Bug—“

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

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

“What if they hurt her?”

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

“We’ll kill them.”

“B-but–”

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

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

Yet, the swordsman couldn’t let it go. 

His little rabbit, forced to bed her captors again. 

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

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

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

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

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

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

Eternity. 

One fucking second.

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

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

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

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

You wished they would.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m not here.

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

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

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

Your uncle had caught a white stag. 

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

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

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

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

~~~

“Y/N? Sis? Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.

“You like sweet drinks, don’t you?”

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

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

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

They’re trying to distract me… 

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

‘Mr. Iceburg?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The clothes suit you well, Emperor.”

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

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

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

“Red Hair made it? He’s a suitor?”

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

“She hates him.”

“What do you–”

“Who does she–”

“She HATES SHANKS!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“But she–”

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chase?”

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

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

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

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

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

‘This isn’t a dream…’

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

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

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

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

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

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Oh sweetie, you look so–”

“Take a bite.”

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

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

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

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

But Kat was making that face. Little sister face. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Which Hunter Will Claim Her?’

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

Cedar leaves.

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

~~~~~~

~~~~~~

Giberson

Age: Couldn’t Recall

Height: Misplaced Measurements

Birthday: August 14th

Title: “Warehouseman”

Favorite Food: Rye Whiskey

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

~

Ichiji

Age: 21

Height: 186 cm (6'1")

Birthday: March 2

Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom

Favorite Food: Strawberries and Whiskey

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

~

Niji

Age: 21

Height: 185 cm (6'1")

Birthday: March 2nd

Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom

Favorite Food: Blueberries and Scotch

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

~

Yonji

Age: 21

Height: 194 cm (6'4")

Birthday: March 2

Title: Prince of the Germa Kingdom

Favorite Food: Green Peas

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

~

Iceburg

Age: 40

Height: 199 cm (6'6")

Birthday: January 3

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

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

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

~

Fukaboshi

Age: 24

Height: 604 cm (19’10”)

Birthday: February 4th

Title: Prince of the Ryugu Kingdom

Favorite Food: Abalone Steak

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

~

Cracker

Age: 45

Height: 307 cm (10'1")

Birthday: February 28th

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

Favorite Food: Biscuits. Dislikes Kimchi and Carbonated Drinks.

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

~

Katakuri

Age: 48

Height: 509 cm (16'8½")

Birthday: November 25th

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

Favorite Food: Doughnuts. Dislikes hot ramen.

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

~

Shanks

Age: 39

Height: 199 cm (6'6")

Birthday: March 9

Title: Emperor of the Sea

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

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

~~~~~~

‘Make Your Bets Now!’

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

“Venison…”

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

“It’s the Four of Diamonds.”

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

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

So they had to guess.

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

Always trapped.

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

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

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

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

As though he already owned you.

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

“Queen of Hearts,” he winked again.

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

~~~

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

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

A stage. 

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

“Seven of Clubs.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stop. Don’t think about…

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

“What card is—“

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

“Three of Clubs.”

“Again.”

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

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

Would it be weird to marry Kat’s favorite?

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

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

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~⚫~~~

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

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

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

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

“I’m fourteen now,” you declared. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay!”

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~⚫~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

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

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

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

“Why is that?”

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

“What do you— oh!”

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

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

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

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

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

Forgetting.

“I…”

“Is it the Seven of Clubs?”

“No, Mr… No, Iceburg.”

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad?”

His teeth look so sharp…

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

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

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

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

No. 

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

Bells. 

“That is—“

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

“Monsters?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of us would make it out alive anyway. 

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

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

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry?” 

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

You had to stop comparing these men to your daydreams. 

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

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

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

He’s fucking unstable.

“That’s good. Family is everything.”

Is he flirting? 

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

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

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

~~~

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

Those eyes… 

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

He’s too fucking pretty.

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

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

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

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

“Can you guess the card?”

“It’s the Ten of Hearts.”

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

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

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

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

“The Queen of Hearts.”

“Yes. Have you seen this trick before?”

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

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

Then you wished you had forgotten.

“What’s the–”

“Shuffle again.”

“But you haven’t–”

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

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

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

Fuck. fuckfuckfuck. Stop. 

There you go. Just smile. 

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

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

Hiding all the struggle behind your Sylvad smile.

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

You hadn’t noticed the bells.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~

“When are you leaving?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not leaving tonight.”

Heavy. 

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

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

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🐊🗡️🐊~~~

“Are you alright?”

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

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

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

This man…

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

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

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

The words were enough.

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

The swordsman felt like a fraud. 

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

Crocodile gave him what he wanted. A heavy kiss.

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

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

~~~🗡️🐊🗡️🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

They’re holding hands… 

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

“Nice room service,” Buggy tried to recover. 

“Come here, little clown.”

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

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

“Y-yup! Lots of…”

“Is that what you want?”

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

“Good boy.”

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

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

“Let’s fuck him up, daddy!”

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

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

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

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

Crocodile started to undress, chuckling softly at his boys. 

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

“I’m going to play.”

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

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

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

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

Gods, that fucking cock.

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

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

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

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

“Please, daddy.”

What a fucking sight… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Music to the ears of his sated lovers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home…

~~~🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

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

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

The traitor. 

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

“Of course.” 

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

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

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

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

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

He looked so fucking smug. 

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

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

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

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

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

Just smile. Just pretend.

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

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

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

Author's Note:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 33

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

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[yanderenightmare]

Do you normally get any 'ew, you're disgusting' shit in your inbox? I just now posted my first incest fic and got one like 'i hope you don't have any siblings lalala'. Prior to that, I was like "how do these authors go untouched by antis?" but then I realised that it was a tad bit naive of me lol. I was going to respond with a taunt but decided to just delete it because it wasn't worth the effort.

Are they frequent and are they easy to ignore?

On Dealing with Haters/Critics

Good question! I was actually going to make a post on this, as others have asked me the same thing, so here we go!

♡ Personal Experience!

I get my fair share of hate from time to time—more often when I publish things that are more taboo than other excepted things—for example, like you say, incest, as well as bestiality, wide age gap, born-sexy-yesterday readers, etc.

It's an odd thing, as haters will often accept the fact that I write rape for titillation but will take issue with these other tropes. But anyway, we can talk about the nonsensical opinions of haters all day, but it wouldn't really do us any good.

So, here's my advice.

♡ First Off, Accept that Haters are Gonna Hate!

Some people won't like what you write. And that's fine. The problem is that they feel the need to tell you that—at which point, you'll just have to console yourself by telling yourself that no decent person would be rude to a total stranger whom they don't know the first thing about and, therefore, whatever they have to say warrants neither second thought nor reply.

With that being said, however...

♡ You Gotta Do What Feels Right!

Engage or don't engage, do what you need to feel at peace. Sure, you can be the so-called bigger man and ignore all the meanies, but you absolutely don't have to!

Of course, we can be cool as cucumbers and say, "Not worth the effort," but who are we kidding? This is Tumblr, and you're allowed to rant when you want in whatever manner you want!

So, if you feel you gotta bite back to maintain your sanity, then that's what you should!

However, I do believe there's a way to go about it!

♡ Never Go to Bed Angry!

This is my personal advice, but if you ever choose to acknowledge hate or critique, do so with tact and with based and factual arguments instead of slinging heated insults in return.

This way, you walk away from the fight feeling good about what you've said and not worse off than before. In other words, don't stoop down to their level.

I actually feel in many ways that answering hate can be rather therapeutic this way, as you've succesfully turned something negative into soemthing positive!

♡ The Difference Between Hate & Critique!

Actually doesn't matter. You're not really obligated to answer either if you don't want to.

But for the sake of differentiating the two: "Ew, you're disgusting" is hateful slander, but "Incest is wrong, and you're actively condoning it by writing what you write" is a genuine critique.

And it bears repeating, you don't have to address either because you don't owe anyone anything.

People are entiteld to their opnions just as much as you're free to disagree, and ignore if you want!

But something I've found is that explaining it to those who don't understand why we write such things, and furthermore why people want to read it without being interested in such things in real life, is actually quite a rewarding thing to do!

And by that, I mean it might make your critics and haters understand and rethink their comments, but it can also help your existing fans deal with their own similar self-loathing, and lastly, it's even great for your own mental health for when you yourself doubt your own mental standing!

Personally, in regard to the example I used above, when I get hit with the "you're condoning this and that" I just play the argument that those who play violent videogames aren't condoning the killing carried out by their avatar. Naturally, when roleplaying a fictional version of ourselves, we're not actually playing as ourselves.

Some people have a very hard time understanding this for some reason.

But anyway, moving on.

♡ Final Advice!

Ignore and delete any and all the dumb, off-handed comments you feel like. If and when you want, return their rudeness with a cheeky smile and a slap on their ass. Be as cordial as you can be but as sassy as you feel you must—like an aged Queen who drinks her fair share of likewise wine.

But whatever you do, don't ever make things personal!

Though that's also my personal advice. I think, by making personal attacks, you're not being factual anymore, and you'll only feel worse for it. And by personal attacks, I mean calling people ignorant, dumb, awful, etc. You can, of course, say that their chosen words were in ill taste, but going after them themselves won't make you feel better. So, I'd suggest avoiding it.

Anyway, hope this helps!

♡ NIGHTMARE'S HELPDESK

[thesleepyskipper]

2024 Year in Review: Writing Round-Up

I was shocked to see that I wrote TEN fics this year, all for RWRB. And that the first one was in April! It was definitely a busy year.

❤️🤍💙.

too sweet (Rated M | 2,237 words)

A little co-worker enemies-to-lovers. Based on the Hozier song of course!

❤️🤍💙.

2. good neighbours (Rated M | 10,283 words)

My fic for @aroyallybigbangrwrb which is a neighbours AU meet-cute situation where Alex really likes to fix stuff for Henry, who really likes to break stuff for Alex to fix. I'm normally a one-shot kinda gal, but writing a chaptered longer fic was a fun challenge!

❤️🤍💙.

3. stop pretending (Rated T | 3,159 words)

My fic for @thebrownstone Summer Switcheroo exchange. Childhood friends-to-lovers based on a little video I saw on twitter with a meddling sister and of course I added in some more meddling friends just for fun (because Nora and Pez need to get in there too!)

❤️🤍💙.

4. yours, forever (Rated T | 2.019 words)

Suuuuper fluffy proposal and wedding fic! The wedding bit is somewhat based on my own true story.

❤️🤍💙.

5. the cadence of your heart (Rated E | 5,585 words)

Oh boy. It took me about 4 or so months of working on this and building up the courage to post my first true E-rated fic in this fandom. This is basically shower sex PWP but also ended up with A LOT of feelings.

❤️🤍💙.

6. lost and found (love) (Rated T | 2.304 words)

A little meet-cute where Alex has lost his dog and Henry runs the local lost dog Facebook group. Part epistolary with FB messages throughout! Written for the red umbrella flufftober collection.

❤️🤍💙.

7. London? (Rated T | 1,432 words)

Somehow my second flufftober piece also ended up revolving around dogs, but this time an established relationship piece with some fun miscommunication about forever (but in a good way). Written for the red umbrella flufftober collection.

❤️🤍💙.

8. takes one to know one (Rated M | 3,608 words)

I had tons of fun writing this particular one about rival professors (with a little twist 🤫) for @anywhere-with-you-event.

❤️🤍💙.

9. According to Plan? (Rated T | 3,822 words)

A few people had asked for a proposal sequel to London? and it seemed to fit well with my first prompt for the frosted pages & snowbound stories collection which was Frozen Lake. My first 5+1 ever! Five times Henry almost caught on that Alex was going to propose and one time Henry had no idea.

❤️🤍💙.

10. keep him warm (Rated M | 4,339 words)

I had some fun with combining a bunch of tropes in this one - a bookstore AU with lots of pining, a power outage, being snowed in and THERE WAS ONLY ONE COUCH!! My second fic for frosted pages & snowbound stories collection.

❤️🤍💙.

It has truly been a wonderful year full of writing (and reading) and I am so appreciative to the tumblr community for all the kind comments, tags and reblogs throughout the year. The WIP games were so much fun and I really looked forward to WW and SSS each week!

Thank you to the lovely friends who tagged me in their Writing Round-Ups @kiwiana-writes, @cha-melodius, @firenati0n, @run-for-chamo-miles, @porcelainmortal

and @iboatedhere, @tinyarmedtrex, @0npurpose - look at all that we have accomplished!!! I've just loved reading all your works this year.

I'll try not to make a gigantic list (like I normally do LOL), but if anyone else would like to share, I'd absolutely love to see! So open tag for sure!

Tagging more lovely friends who have been active and tagged me in tag games or WW and SSS lately! @miss-minnelli, @onthewaytosomewhere, @sophie1973, @firstprincehornyramblings, @stellarmeadow

@littlemisskittentoes, @miharaikko, @getmehighonmagic, @orchidscript, @caterpills

@zwiazdziarka, @judasofsuburbia, @strwbrryagcd, @kj-bee, @whimsymanaged

@14carrotghoul, @myheartalivewrites, @tailsbeth-writes, @suseagull5914, @clockwrkpendrxgon

❤️🤍💙HAPPY NEW YEAR, FRIENDS! Here's to a successful 2025 with all sorts of wonderful new WIPs to work on! ❤️🤍💙

[drop-dead-dropout]

posting a kimharry oneshot here bc i'm too lazy to format it on ao3 rn but I'll reblog with the ao3 link later if I get around to it

so basically I was thinking about how kim is very my partner coded and I had this galaxy brain idea to write a fic where kim is asexual or uhhh. would grayace be the term? sorry idk but it's based on my partner I love him <3. also blink and you'll miss it trans harry but it's important to me that you know they're t4t in this lol. cw for suggestive (non-graphic discussions of sexuality and also it takes place Directly after them fucking), 1.3k words. (please be nice to me I've never posted fic on tumblr lol)

YOU — The air in your apartment is musty with the smell of sweat and sex. Your chest heaves with slightly strangled breaths, face burning with humiliation. You've always been a little (a lot) loose-lipped during orgasm—

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Especially an orgasm like that, holy shit, Kim—

YOU — But you've never, in living memory, said anything quite as ridiculously and unashamedly needy as the complete word-vomit that just exited your mouth a few seconds ago.

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Failure] — Honestly, you were a little out of it and the exact phrasing is already slipping your mind, but it was something along the lines of... What was it again?

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] — Oh my fucking Dei don't stop, Kim please I need you so bad, god I'm so desperate, shit, you drive me fucking crazy, pleasepleaseplease—

SAVOIR FAIRE — Yeah, no, I'm cutting you off right there. He's already about to spontaneously combust, you don't need to embarrass him even more.

ENCYCLOPEDIA — He asked. Besides, I'm not the one who dropped the ball there.

COMPOSURE — Sorry for that, Harry.

KIM KITSURAGI — Kim's hands rest on your chest, tracing circles just below your twin scars with his nimble fingers. "Is that... Really how it feels, to you?"

EMPATHY — It's a genuine question, and he's smiling with an infectious fondness. He's not upset, just curious. Your eagerness is fascinating to him. And cute.

HALF-LIGHT — What does he mean by that, though? Are we too needy? Is it not good for him? Does he hate us and want us to die forever—

VOLITION — No. Shut up. We already agreed you're not allowed to talk when Harry's alone with Kim, don't you remember?

HALF-LIGHT — But! Danger!

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Trivial: Success] — It's Kim. There is no danger here.

YOU — At a loss for anything else to say, you just nod, a bit dumbly. "I mean... Yeah. Is it, uh, not like that for you?"

COMPOSURE [Formidable: Failure] — You try to play the question off as a nonchalant, but you're not even close to being a good enough liar to hide the mild undercurrent of fear in your voice. Especially not from him. (Khm. Sorry again.)

KIM KITSURAGI — "No, not really. It's not you," he quickly adds, seeing the obvious and barely-held back self-loathing in your expression. "It's just the way I am, I suppose. I'm too old to question it now."

DRAMA [Heroic: Success] — He's not lying to spare your feelings, sire. This is truly just a facet of himself that's always been there.

RHETORIC [Challenging: Failure] — By the way, you distinctly recall hearing him talk about having had sex before. Quite a bit, in fact.

YOU — "But wait, I thought—"

KIM KITSURAGI — Already having anticipated this line of questioning, Kim laughs a bit under his breath. "It wasn't a lie; I never said I don't. Actually, sometimes that made it better— without all the messy urgency, I guess I seemed 'cool', to borrow your phrasing. And it's not like I didn't enjoy it, either." He shrugs. "It was just... Something to do. I never really understood the intensity."

SHIVERS [Legendary: Success] — A dozen miles and many years ago, two young men make out in a musty old apartment. "How are you always so— so unaffected," one says to the other with a breathy laugh. In a few months he will repeat these words with a much uglier tone, and they will be the last ones Kim ever hears from him.

EMPATHY [Heroic: Success] — For the record, he was not, in fact, "unaffected" by that particular heartbreak. Don't ever hurt him like that.

YOU — Before you can think better of it, you find yourself saying, "Is that bad?"

KIM KITSURAGI — A twitch in the corner of his mouth interrupts his relaxed grin for a moment. You almost want to mourn the loss. "I don't know, Harry, is it? Why do you think it would be?"

PAIN THRESHOLD — You've hurt him, idiot. We just told you not to do that.

YOU — "I-I mean— it's just—" Your teeth click audibly with how quickly you shut your own mouth. You really, really don't want to fuck this up.

HALF-LIGHT — Too late.

VOLITION [Challenging: Success] — HEY. Back in the corner, you.

YOU — Guys, please help me. I don't know anything about… Well, anything, really, but especially not this. How do I fix it? What do I say to make him feel better?

INLAND EMPIRE — You could start by actually answering his question, instead of rushing to apologize. Why do you think it would be bad? What about the concept is uncomfortable to you?

SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] — Kim feels safe with you, in the same way that you do with him. Be honest. He knows you didn't mean anything by it— the only way you could fuck this up is by not talking to him.

YOU — After a moment of pondering, you find the right words. Or maybe not the right words, but the ones that feel the most true: "I don't know. But I know I would be unhappy, if I was... Different to how I am now."

EMPATHY — Kim's eyes flash with a bit of surprise. But good surprise, like an old friend dropping by unexpectedly. The smile returns (yay!)— smaller, but softer, and almost giddy. It's not one you see on him often, a bit too unguarded and juvenile for his tastes. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

KIM KITSURAGI — "So would I," he says simply.

DRAMA [Challenging: Success] — He means it.

YOU — "Oh." You blink two or three times. "Oh. Well that's good, then, right? That you're happy?"

PERCEPTION (HEARING) — Something about the almost childish sincerity in your voice must be funny to him, because he keeps doing that thing where he chuckles under his breath, and coughs to try to cover it.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Formidable: Failure] — He's laughing at you.

AUTHORITY [Trivial: Failure] — Exactly. He's mocking you, Harry, he thinks you're an idiot. Make him respect you—

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] — He's in love, you moron.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — As if on cue (or maybe your internal dialogue is just more easily observable from the outside than you thought), Kim leans forward and kisses you. For the first time, you notice how effective he is at responding to your reactions, like he's trying to find and wring out every last happy sigh and spark of oxytocin he could possibly give you.

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] — Because he likes this. He likes pressing all your buttons and seeing what they do, which ones work the best. (Almost all of them work, when it's him. Maybe a little too well.)

ENDURANCE — Hey, don't look at me like that! It's not my fault he doesn't play fair.

SAVOIR FAIRE — Exactly. How are we supposed to be cool in front of Kim? He's like, the coolest.

KIM KITSURAGI — "I love you," Kim whispers, his lips tickling against your collarbone.

SAVOIR FAIRE — See?! He even makes THAT sound cool, a thousand times cooler than when we say it, which is, like, every five seconds!!

EMPATHY — It's true that you're usually the one to say it first. For a time, he hardly said it at all— you learned not to take it personally. You certainly have your own baggage. But lately, it's been nice to watch as he gets a bit more comfortable.

EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] — The cuddling usually seems to help, in moments like this.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Godly: Success] — After all, what is a hug but a way to hide your face?

YOU — You wind your arms tighter around him. "I love you, too, Kim." And you swear he must be able to feel the way your lungs glow.

EMPATHY — He does. Of course he does.

INLAND EMPIRE — For a moment, you think you can feel his, too.

SHIVERS [Legendary: Success] — SLEEP WELL, MY DARLINGS.

[frownyalfred]

hey! I saw ur post abt if Bruce had never become Batman and how it’d affect him and his kids & I was wondering if you’d be okay with it if I made a fic inspired by it? I don’t have a solid plan yet but it unleashed a herd of plot bunnies into my enclosure and I really really want to write smth based on that if it’d be okay with you. Obv I’d link back to the original post & give you credit in the notes lol

Absolutely! I'm sure I'm not the first person to post a similar idea. Folks are totally free to write stuff based off my posts, you don't need to ask! I just request folks link back to the original tumblr post if/when possible.

[blacktofade]

I am quite new to Tumblr and while I know that this isn't what you usually post you are one of the only rpf writers that I actively know of and you seem to know the community so I thought I would just ask you

But no pressure to answer if you don't want to

I am writing a nsfw fanfic of rpf Arizona Dads but it is reader insert and I have no clue how to tag these types of things on Tumblr. (Ex Twitter-User here 😬) especially since that recent discourse I am just afraid of tagging stuff incorrectly but since my blog is entirely new I don't think anyone would see this, if I don't tag it, right?

I'm just a little confused and thought I would ask, really hope you don't mind

Hello darling anon!!!! Welcome to Tumblr! I'm actually thrilled you reached out to me with this question cause I'm like a broody chicken where I want to tuck everyone under my feathers and keep them safe!

Tagging for MCYT fandoms has been a learning curve for me, so you're definitely not alone in your confusion. The advice I give is just from personal experience, so I welcome anyone reading this to offer corrections if need be!

Also, when I say maintag, I mean it's a tag on a new post you've created. Adding tags on something you reblog doesn't put that post in the tags for others to see, it's just for personal organization on your blog. (I've had people get mad at me for reblogging something with a "maintag" and honestly they can suck my dick to the base. That's not how Tumblr works.)

So, from what I can tell, if it's NSFW content, don't maintag "hermitcraft" or any CCs/characters. For example, if you're posting a fic about giving Tango the big time sloppy head he deserves, don't tag it with "tangotek". You should instead use a tagging system for your own blog. In this case, you could use the tag "t.angotek". It will stop the post appearing in Tango's maintag, but would be easy to navigate on your own blog.

RPF is a whole other can of worms, cause people don't like if you tag that with "hermitshipping". I tend to use "hermitshipping rpf", and I haven't been yelled at so far LOL

Ship tags are much harder when you get into multiple pairing territory. I think in your case, I might just be tempted to use an "arizona dad" tag. Maybe run a search and check what kind of content is in that tag first and decide if you want your post to show up there.

Then because it's reader insert fic, I'd use "reader fic" and/or "reader insert fic" tags.

Basically, sharing NSFW RPF content in this fandom is impossible in the maintags, so basically no one will see it, like you said. It really sucks. If you want it to be found, the trick is to make friends with The Perverts of the fandom, cause we all just reblog posts amongst ourselves lmfao

Start following RPF friendly blogs, cause we're a pretty small community but everyone is VERY friendly and willing to boost content.

[remcadll]

Hey to whoever sent me the very nice ask about writing a fic based on the mob Dick and Jason drawing, I tried to put your message in my drafts before posting and it completely disappeared, I'm so sorry 😭 I should have screenshotted it that's on me for not expecting tumblr to delete stuff for no reason. Anyways, here's most of my response:

Absolutely you can! I don't have ownership over the idea since a lot of people have found the concept interesting so anyone can do whatever they like lol

If you want more context for Dick being an enforcer and haven't read it already, his mafia arc is from Nightwing (1996) #107 to roughly #111. He's miserable the whole time and hits people with crutches so it's a fun read.

Thank you for the ask, good luck with the fic!

[mannatea]

now that i'm back from vacation i'm literally soooo ripe for running my mouth again

looove that post about the fic-to-original pipeline tendencies that i don't need to repeat here because we know what fandom and what ship and every trope most of the popular serial-numbers-filed-off novels sprang from. i didn't wanna add my big fat two cents to that post because i'm truly a nobody but it won't stop me from screeching into the void on my own tumblr post lmao.

it's no secret that most of these stories worked as "file the serial numbers off" novels because the original fanfic work was wildly out of character (He Would Not Fucking Say That to the nth degree), an AU completely disconnected to the characters (There's Really Nothing Left of Your Blorbos*), and the author's greatest weakness is actually writing consistent or even interesting characterization.

*for example: the canon features a character who comes from extreme hardship and poverty but then the AU fic-turned-novel pops up and that character is living better than my DINK ass in a wildly more expensive area with zero explanation. that's not even close to the same character! and that's not even going into how their voice doesn't even sound close.

(call me bitter if you want since all my original publications are in various states of disarray, but it's actually a lot more complicated than iwishthatwereme.jpg, primarily because I do not wish that were me.)

ANYWAY, what i wanted to say, besides just agreeing with literally every word of that post, is that there's something interesting to think about with regards to the in between stories where the (probably an) AU fic is so well-done and well-characterized in a way that feels accurate to the canon and/or to the new situation the characters are in that you literally can't just file the serial numbers off and publish it.

this is hard to explain in a way that makes sense because most of these are big AUs and on paper should be fully publishable by filing off the serial numbers. however, they were written with the canon in mind—and are entrenched in it to the degree that filing off the serial numbers just doesn't feel like enough of a departure from the canon for the author to feel comfortable doing the bare minimum to make it "publishable."

and like, maybe technically you can still file off the serial numbers, because who is going to recognize your srpg blorbos in a sweeping drama taking place during the french revolution lol, but as a Writer Who Gives a Shit, the connections to the original work are SO SO HARD TO IGNORE and for the story to be fairly reinvented as original fiction, those connections have to be reexamined and, at times, reframed. or, you know, deleted entirely (and then you have a domino effect to contend with).

sure, no random person is going to connect the long modern au i wrote with kender in 2013 to fire emblem 7's pegasus sisters, let alone see hector, eliwood, ninian, and So Many More in the story...but i know that most of the dynamics were based on fe7 blorbos. i know where the $20,000.00 check concept came from—not to mention all that juicy power dynamic drama. and i don't think i'd be super comfortable just changing the names in that story and then publishing it with a cursory edit.

i'm not saying that specific work can't be turned into original fiction (it definitely could be done), but because it exists in that in between space of being based more securely off of canonical elements/characterization/ideas, it's not as easy or simple as just changing the goddamn names.

the work involved in making an in between fanfic publishable original fiction is INSANE most of the time, especially if you want to (in good faith) be able to direct fandom followers that way. like anyone who knows me and knows i've written hundreds of fe7 fics would clock that modern AU instantly if i only changed the names. sure, the story's still pretty original (it features a lot of elements not seen in the games at all) but if you know me and then see me writing a story that revolves around three sisters you'd be like Things That Make You Go Hmm.

for the record, i don't think this is a bad thing in the sense that I fully believe it's fine to be inspired by other works even heavily (The Lion King/Hamlet, for example, or Demon Copperhead/David Copperfield), but i think intent matters here! only changing the names when the original was so earnestly a fanfiction feels lazy.

fwiw, i'd argue most people who are even remotely normal about fanfic and original fiction, or at least consider themselves Serious Writers Who Care About Their Image/Integrity recognize the massive effort involved to rewrite an entire AU fanfic as serviceable original fiction.

it's a ton of work and, i'd argue, rarely worth it**.

**ymmv on this though

again, i could fine tune that fe7 modern au into an original story SO easily by changing the names and doing line edits, but i think the story and the characters deserve more effort from me than that because if i'm going to invest myself in turning fanfic into original work, i refuse to take shortcuts.

and it's SOOOOOO wild to me that so many people just literally do not care and do the bare minimum...but wilder still that they make good money doing it. (which, to be fair, i don't blame them for doing. it's obviously working for the people who never had a fanfic phase and have money to spend.) however, in this instance...i don't believe in "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

to be clear, do whatever you want! i just can't fathom putting in less than the bare minimum effort for published fiction but i'm curious about how other people feel about this. the publishing industry is so fucked up and shitty right now with the state of self pub and authors having to do all their marketing even in a lot of traditional publishing situations, so maybe i'm an idiot over here sitting on a goldmine since i have the ability to churn out nonsense stupid AUs constantly and could very easily have original fiction pieces due to that if i cared less about the quality of my work (and cared less about separating it from the source material).

like, is it me? am i maybe the dumbass?

[mudisgranapat]

I. Lights Out

Word Count: 2,7 k

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley X F! Reader

Content: zombie apocalypse, mention of dead bodies, mention of death, children

Summary: A virus has taken over the world, turning people into zombies. Amidst the chaos, Simon has managed to stick together with the other operators of Task Force 141, his life barely any different than it was before. That is, until the day he crosses paths with a woman that keeps a well hidden secret and holds something he has long forgotten existed: a baby

Note: This is my first fic (and first tumblr post)! Hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I already have the story planned out, and will be posting the next chapter soon if anyone cares about this. If not, I’ll pretend I never posted this lol

.

.

.

Sitting on the back of the Humvee, Simon could almost believe that things were normal. The constant hum of the engine numbed his mind, as he stared into the sewing of the padding covering the old seat. Soap was seated directly across from him, blabbing his mouth to Gaz, who acted like he could hear anything besides the huge vehicle's obscene noise. Behind the steering wheel was his Captain, Price. Although, that didn’t seem to matter anymore. Not ranks, not names. Nothing was normal, and the reality outside that Humvee was something Simon, not even in his worst days, ever believed could happen.

He had witnessed bleak images. Cruelty in abundance. But the world he saw now was unlike anything he had ever seen before - the dead, roaming among the living. Not that he hadn’t encountered his fair amount of corpses, after all, that came with his job. But this, seeing the bodies of civilians, once full of life, now life-less and decaying at an evolving speed, nonetheless persisting, chasing the taste of human meet… It was different.

When the early signs of the apocalypse started to show, most of the people downplayed it, him included. He had always been a skeptic, and it just didn’t seem viable that a virus could bring down humanity with such strength. Regardless, Simon hadn’t been too worried about the so-called “end of the world”; He thought that his military ties would be enough to keep him informed with privileged intel of the real situation.

He had been deployed with the 141, far from civilization, when shit really went down. For obvious reasons, they came out empty-handed from the recon mission. Turns out terrorism doesn’t come first in the list of the insurgent’s priorities when there is a deathly virus going around. It was only at his team's fruitless attempt to land back at base that he found out that his ranks and years of service didn’t matter when the world was collapsing. They had been out for long enough that, when they came back, there was no more government in place. No hierarchy to follow, and no rules to structure society. And no one cared about them enough to let them know beforehand.

Some people had stayed in their houses, probably clutching their kitchen knives close to their hearts while they heard their neighbor's inhuman noises. Others had divided themselves into smaller groups, in the hopes of giving humanity a fighting chance. The lucky ones had made it to what once were the quarantine zones, now just simply a bigger group of people that managed to stick together and with far better resources. From there, all the typical apocalyptic mayhem developed: gangs, revolutionary groups, miracle safe spaces, cults, and so on. The chaos you would expect to see in a movie. Apparently, they weren’t that far from reality.

Along with the 141, Simon fell into the “smaller group” category - not that the four men would give humanity a fighting chance, they just didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Being military men, their lives revolved around structure and order, so it was natural for them to stick together. Whatever ties to the old world they had before had long been severed, and quickly they realized that it was less painful to hope that anyone they cared about had had the privilege of dying a quick death.

Not that that mattered to Simon either. He didn’t have anyone. So sitting at the back of that Humvee they had stolen from an abandoned base, things didn’t feel that different from what they used to be.

Soon enough, the group expanded, thanks to Soap, who had managed to fix an old radio and get in touch with a few other military personnel who were scattered around the globe. That is how they found Laswell: she had managed to seclude a select group of people from the military in one of the bases that were abandoned in the turmoil. They didn’t mention that she never tried to contact them while they were away on that recon mission, and she didn’t bring it up either. Now, over two years had passed, and the topic was long forgotten.

They were a bunch of people tied together by the hope they could still save humanity: scientists, agents, medics… Everyone had their place in the small society Laswell had created. And Simon… Well, he was a soldier. And soldiers are always useful when in the right hands. That was why things hadn’t changed much for him, and for the first time in his life, the fact that he never had a home to come back to was a relief.

Price was currently driving towards an abandoned research post, that had once been filled with people working to find a cure for the virus that plagued the world. Now, it was just a pile of junk and hopelessness, where Laswell swore they could still find valuable intel - maybe someone had forgotten to scrub their hard drive, or left behind a notebook with notes. At this point, even a post-it with bullet points would be considered a success.

As they pulled up to the location, they decided to park a few meters away from the entrance and proceeded with the skillfulness of a well-oiled machine. Soap and Gaz cleaned the era, taking out the few zombies in the vicinity with their knives, as Price and Ghost scanned for any intelligent life form that could possibly cause trouble. Not that they were expecting to find anything, it was just a precaution, as anyone who once lived there had either fled the area or become another roaming corpse.

They were about to follow the small dirt path that led to the makeshift building when Gaz held up his hand, a signal to stay put, while he used the other to hold the thermal vision glasses to his eyes. “I’m reading two heat signatures - one small and the other even smaller. Looks like it could be a woman and a child. The woman seems to be armed.”

“Let me see this, Gaz.” Says Price as he analyzes the scene himself. “He is right. Two signatures, one is armed.” Gaz makes a look of mock surprise behind the Captain, as he hadn’t just said that. He had become a lot more sassy since he could not be demoted.

“What do we do now?” Soap asks. “It’s not like we can just shoot a kid.”

Price pretends not to hear the last sentence. “I will approach, unarmed. They are probably just scared and trying to find a safe place to live. I’ll tell them we can give them some of our food if they come out and let us take a look at the place.” Before anyone can suggest an alternative, the Captain is removing his guns from the holster, and making his way towards the old science lab.

He is only a few feet away when the sound of gunshots fills the air. The bullets, all aimed just inches away from the captain’s boots, trace a line as if saying “Do not come any closer”. Immediately, the rest of the 141 aim their guns at where the shots came from, taking cover behind the trees, waiting for permission to shoot from the Captain, one that never comes.

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY!” A woman’s voice rings in their ears. This confirms part of what they had seen in the thermal goggles: there was a woman inside and she was, indeed, armed.

“I just want to talk, kid.” Price states calmly, standing his ground. He doesn’t take a step forward, so the shooter doesn’t feel challenged, but doesn’t take a step back either. He is not a man that backs away from a fight. “Name’s John. No need to shoot”.

“You can tell that to your men.” The woman is positioned behind a window, the scope of her gun pointing fearlessly at the bearded man. Not expertly, Simon notes to himself, as he can see the slight tremble that reverberates through the metal parts. Although her voice screams confidence, he can tell the person behind it is not as courageous. But she would probably still shoot that gun - Simon has seen more people pulling triggers out of fear than bravery.

“Alright. Stand down, boys.” And they do. “We just want to take a look around, we don’t want trouble”

The woman laughs. “You say, as you carry automatic weapons and wear a bulletproof vest.”

“Just protecting myself from these troublesome fellas around. You know, the ones with their face falling off, trying to eat people.”

“We both know no one needs that much gear to fight some brain-dead walkers.” She doesn’t seem to want to match the light-hearted tone John is trying to bring to the conversation. “Now get out, or my men will shoot you.”

Now it’s Price’s turn to laugh. “Sweetheart, we both know there’s no one else there with you.” He puts both his hands on the shoulder straps of his vest. “That is, except for the child.”

John was just trying to assert his dominance by showing he had more information than he had let on. However, an angry string of bullets directed toward his feet, again, showed that the comment had struck a nerve. “Get out.” She said through gritted teeth, loud enough for him to hear. “Or the next ones are going straight through that stupid fucking hat of yours.”

“Listen here, kid.” The Captain was angry now. He didn’t like when people commented on his hat. “I have three men ready to shoot your ass into oblivion if you don’t comply. If you can’t tell, they are military-trained, and they will have you down before you can aim at my stupid fucking hat. So quit being dumb and put that gun down.” It was surprising he had let her go as far as shooting at him twice, but he was done negotiating.

“Are you with the Resistance?” Simon almost wants to laugh at that name. The Resistance was a group that, surprise, surprise, wanted to resist the Government. People have too much faith in the Government, in his opinion, as it had crumbled before he came back from his mission. To be fair, it had been a long mission, so maybe he was being a little harsh. Now, the Resistance was a group of rebels that had nothing to rebel against, and who, ironically, had become the closest thing to a government you could have nowadays.

“No, we are not.” Simon could tell John’s patience was wearing thin. He isn’t a big fan of the Resistance either. “We are a group that’s still trying to fix things in this goddam world and that lab might have valuable information. Now let us through.”

At that, the woman puts the gun down and stands up. She probably didn’t know that, but by the tone of his Captaion’s voice, she had probably taken her last chance to avoid a conflict. “Name’s Y/N.” She says. Simon can see her face now - she looks like she is in her early twenties, with long hair tied in a tight ponytail. She disappears behind the window again, coming out the front door with a baby in her left arm and a pistol in her right hand. “I’m keeping the gun.”

“Suit yourself. Come on, boys.” With that, the three of them are taken out of their trance. He knows what they were thinking because he was thinking the same. Who in their right mind has a baby in the middle of a zombie apocalypse? Either this woman was crazy brave or crazy crazy. A baby was a rare sight, a healthy one even more so. But there she stood, baby in her arms and a furious gaze.

They walk past her and her gaze only intensifies. Clearly, the woman was hiding from something, or someone. But that was neither here nor there. They were on a mission, and they were going through with it regardless. Nothing had ever stood in 141’s way.

They don’t ask the baby’s name. Simon had a feeling she might point her gun to his head if he did. Not that he was curious, he could care less about the women or the child.

She doesn’t ask their names either. After all, there is no reason for formalities. If all goes well, they will be gone as suddenly as they appeared.

Inside, the lab was what you would have expected, except for a few things that showed that someone had been living there. It wasn’t hard to find their way around the place, although incredibly annoying to do when there was a five-something-foot-tall woman following them around with a disapproving look. He understood - after all, they were in her house. However, that wasn’t even a house in the first place. Simon tried to mock an equally disapproving look while scavaging for something useful. As if reading his mind, Johnny asks “May I ask why you are living here, of all places? I mean, there are real houses across the street, lass.” Always a gentleman, he was. He could tell the scot had put real effort into that sentence not to sound judgmental.

The building wasn’t too messy, courtesy of the current tenant. It wasn’t too big either. It resembled a house from the outside, and had two stories: the bottom floor looked pretty much like a regular house. It had one room filled with a not-so-normal number of beds, a bathroom, a simple kitchen, and tables everywhere, where it looked like people used to do research and eat, probably simultaneously. The top floor, on the other hand, seemed like something from another world: Wires covered the walls, feeding energy to dozens of different lab-related equipment. Some were big, some were small, and Simon couldn’t name them if his life depended on it.

“The place runs on solar energy. So the showers and appliances installed still work. Except for the cameras, I shut them down a long time ago, along with all this science crap.” So Simon’s intuition was right, she was hiding from something, and knew too much about the place for her to just have stumbled upon it on pure luck. They had already looked at the cameras and made sure that they weren’t working. They were small, installed mostly where it looked like the scientific research went down and at the entrance. She must have been looking for them, as he was pretty sure a regular civilian wouldn’t have been able to spot all of the cameras. But she did, despite the fact that it looked like those were the parts of the house that she used the least. And although Simon's first reaction was to be suspicious, he couldn’t deny that part of him was impressed.

“Smart.” Gaz said, but his tone seemed to reflect some suspicion as well. He had been sitting down in front of a computer since they arrived, trying to recover any data, while the rest of them tossed things around. Unfortunately for them, the scientists who had previously worked there had remembered to scrub the place clean - no documents or information was left behind. “Price, I think I got something.”

Whatever Gaz had been doing in that giant computer, seemed to have worked, as it looked like files were being restored. But the victory was short-lived, and they hardly had time to gather around the machine before the energy shut down. “What happened?” Soap asked.

“I don’t know, it looked like it was working.” Gaz proceeded to furiously tap the keyboard, probably having no idea what he was doing.

“Well, get it to work again then.”

“It’s not that simple, Soap.” As fast as the power went out, it came back on, and the distinct beep of the weird machines splattered around the place could be heard again. “It seems like the whole place rebooted. It was probably easier for them to have all the controls gathered in one place. Simpler.”

But Simon wasn’t focused on Gaz’s explanation. He was focused on the cameras, that he had physically confirmed were shut down, now red light shining bright. Apparently, the machines weren’t the only thing that had turned back on. “Shit.” He heard the woman say behind him. Her face was pale, and she hugged the baby tightly, shielding the child’s face against her chest.

Whatever she was hiding, Simon was willing to bet all his money it had to do with that baby.

[keepmycandleburning]

Over the past few months I've seen a ton of Marauders fandom content, probably hundreds of posts scrolling Tumblr and a few dozen fics, and one of the most obvious and most interesting differences is how explicitly and directly they will write about certain identities and experiences. Many of them are the exact same identities I include in my writing, but we approach it so completely differently.

It actually matches perfectly into the general genre I'm observing in Marauders fandom works: they're written in a style that's very recognizably fanfic; the writing and themes and lessons in the work are spelled out quite explicitly (partly because there's a strong incentive to not be misunderstood and cause offense based on these identities they're trying to write about). This has been an interesting contrast to Voldemort/Bellamort/DE works I've long been consuming, where the writing is significantly more literary and there's often nothing to mark it as being fanfiction other than literally the characters and the universe (please understand what I mean... lol); if there are morals or lessons or statements being made in the text, they're implicit and woven into the text, not directly given to you by the writer. Though I much less often feel like a fic writer is trying to communicate some sort of moral at all.

Similarly, I've noticed a much smaller degree of separation between Marauders fandom creators and their works, where the fics are pretty direct statements of who the writer is and what they believe, and the story often seems to be some sort of lesson or even almost activism. (Though it's also equally as interesting the number of fics that in their author's note where they further spell out that they're not trying to be offensive and tell you how the story is meant to be read, they will reveal that they don't even have any identity similar to the one they're trying to write an entire story about. If you can do this tastefully? Definitely proceed. But is what I'm seeing tasteful and intelligent? No, not typically.)

Versus when I write Voldemort for example, the narrator is Voldemort, it's very much not me. Any messages that appear to be in the text are Voldemort; the way certain identities or experiences are approached is through my Voldemort. The way that any queer identity or mental illness or anything else is approached and handled in Keep My Candle Burning is through the lens of my narrator Voldemort.

One of the most visible markers of the difference between these two genres is the presence of direct labels. Mental illness and depression are a consistent theme in KMCB, yet the words 'depression' or 'depressed' are not in the fic, not even once. Characters who feel they're not a man or woman can exist anywhere, as you can find those humans anywhere — but when your character starts saying in dialogue 'I'm nonbinary and my pronouns are they/them' I don't think there's really any way to redirect a piece of writing like that into something more mature and literary. You are stuck in the genre of 'obvious fanfic.' And maybe partly just because language like that feels so jarringly out of place for this particular series. Well it feels out of place anywhere let's be honest. I have to assume in the future, people's identities and experiences will overall be spoken about in more natural ways in general.

In my opinion, it's much more interesting and compelling and realistic to simply write some of your characters as having various identities just in the story you want to tell, not to try to write a story that's 'about' these things, because that really seems to lead in the wrong direction. I'd suggest making sure the identity is not the point of the character. This identity can still profoundly affect both the character and the story, and be just as significant of a theme, but when it starts to become unnatural in its explicitness is I think where the writing starts to lose value. Implicit and natural writing seems to give much more valuable depictions of identities and experiences which I think is the ultimate goal.