#i honestly didn't even write this for the ship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sovonight · 1 year

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the comprehensive xan x radri post! unlike their tag, everything here is categorized and sorted in nice chronological order 💖

last updated: 1 / 2 / 2024

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baldur’s gate i

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The Outline

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Xan: *sigh* Go ahead. Ask me why a mage carries a sword around.

Radri: Wh—what?

Xan: You were staring, and quite obviously. The sooner I satisfy your curiosity, the sooner we can direct our attention back to the dangers that surround us, so that we may endeavor to survive the day ahead.

Radri: O-oh, that's not why I... I'm sorry. It's a moonblade, isn't it? You don't need to explain.

Xan: So you are instead surprised that I so severely contradict the tales told of our people, for I do not sing songs and revel in the joys of life? *sigh* I've heard it all before, and I—

Radri: What? No! I'm sorry—I should just take my leave!

—

(In the early morning, at the inn.)

Radri, pleadingly: Imoennn, you know I need you to bargain with the shopkeeper for me!

Imoen: Bargain with 'em yourself. 'M sleeping.

Radri: Please, Imoen, no one else can do! You're so charming and peppy and disarming—

Imoen, pulling the covers back over her head: 'N exhausted! Jus' fork over the extra gold pieces, who cares.

(Radri steps out of the room, letting the door close behind her and falling back against it with a huff.)

Radri: Ugh! Really— (She freezes, realizing she's not alone in the hallway: Xan is there, mid-stride, just passing by.)

Xan: Is something wrong?

Radri, embarrassed, straightening immediately: No! Nothing. I—I'm headed to the store before everyone else wakes. Do you... need anything?

Xan: No; I have all I need, and an excess of supplies can just as readily doom a party as a lack of them. But shall I assist you?

—

(Xan glances over at Radri, who is very rigidly looking ahead, and sighs.)

Xan: I should not have said anything yesterday. It was presumptuous of me, and it is far worse to have your gaze avoid me entirely.

(Radri gives him a startled glance, then looks back away quickly.)

Radri: No, no—I'm sorry. It was rude of me. I'm just unused to being in the company of another elf... and a stranger.

Xan: You have known the others for a long time, then?

Radri: Oh, no. Imoen, sure, but I only met Jaheira and Khalid a couple weeks ago. But because they knew my father, they don't feel quite so much like strangers. Not to mention, one only has to nod through Jaheira's conversations to survive them... and Khalid does not ask more than pleasantries.

Xan: I see. Since I ask more than pleasantries, do I trouble you?

Radri, panicking: No! Not at all. It's refreshing, if anything. And really, I—I'm grateful for your help, I mean, to travel alongside a defender of Elvendom, is...

Xan, subdued: Do not think the moonblade makes me invincible, Radri. It is often more trouble than it is worth. And you should save your praise: I have not yet accomplished anything in service to you beyond placing myself in your debt.

(Radri glances over at him again, daring for the first time since Nashkel to actually catch a proper glimpse of his face: his expression is solemn, and his dark eyes are dull. The rest of the walk is spent in silence, until at last they reach the shop. Xan holds the door open for her.)

Xan: Imoen is usually the face of your transactions, I gather?

Radri, embarrassed: You heard all that earlier?

Xan: I can serve in her place, if you wish.

Radri: Oh—yes, thank you! Here, I have a list…

—✧✧✧—

Imoen: Radri... Radri! Whatcha doing, spacing out? You've gotta stir, or the stew's gonna burn!

Radri: Oh—sorry, Imoen.

Imoen: Really, if you'd had any chores back at ol' Puffgut's place, he woulda chewed you out already. What's on your mind, anyway?

(Radri's gaze drifts away from the cooking fire and back over to Xan, who's working on his spellbook alone. Imoen follows her line of sight, and looks back at her in apprehension.)

Imoen: Oh, no. Don't tell me you've let his attitude infect ya.

Radri: No, I… (She hesitates, wondering if she should share.) I walked with him in his memories, last night, of Evereska. It was so beautiful... his eyes shone as he spoke… but when we woke from reverie, it was all gone. Sharing his memories with me had only made things worse. And worse still, I didn't know what to say.

Imoen: I don't think even the best speaker on Faerun could brighten his day, Radri. Don't let it weigh on ya.

Radri: *sigh*...

Imoen: *gasp* He's already gotten to ya! Radri, quick, ya gotta smile—it's the only way!

Radri: Imoen, hold on—stop! I'm smiling, I'm smiling—the stew!

—✧✧✧—

Compounding Fluster [crossposted on ao3]

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Poor Substitute

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Special Treatment (skip the second one in the link, it comes later)

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Firewood

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By the Fire

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(Xan exits the inn with enough haste to send the lit lantern by the door frame swinging slightly on its hook. The lantern illuminates a quiet side street, and its light conveniently slants over the alcove in which Radri sits, quiet and curled up with a book, against the wall of the building. Radri looks up at his arrival; even from here, with a view only of the back of his head, she can gather that he's searching for something he lost.)

Radri: Xan? Are you looking for something?

Xan, turning quickly, relieved: Radri!

(In an instant, she recognizes that he was, in fact, searching for her. It’s a habit of hers to slip away—Imoen had assured Jaheira and Khalid of that, in the early days. Surely Xan had been met with the same exchange, and yet here he is. In a way, she can’t help but feel flattered.)

Xan: Why are you not inside with the others?

Radri: It's... a little loud inside. Too much noise…

(Now that she says it out loud, the reason sounds silly to her ears, but he doesn’t question it.)

Xan: I see. Still, I would feel better if you were not out here alone.

Radri, gesturing to the spot beside her: There's room for you, if you'd like.

Xan: If a shadow in the night emerges to slit our throats, I will not have the awareness or the speed to protect you, I fear. But perhaps my death would grant you some time to escape…. Very well, if you will have me.

(He joins her, and at this angle, catches the name of the book she's reading.)

Xan: The Dead Three? Of all the books that you have rifled through in search of spells and gold in our travels, I did not know you had deigned to take any one title with you.

Radri: This was Firebead's reward; I couldn't bring myself to sell it.

(She returns her gaze to the book, and sighs.)

Radri: I don't know why I keep returning to it. I'm not even reading the words anymore. I know the story, I just…

(She hesitates; what lingers on her mind is something she has been unable to utter to the others, and that she has even avoided confronting in words herself. It is a fear, really, one that the others would surely attempt to talk her out of… but not Xan. Haltingly, she speaks.)

Radri: …Do you ever feel like you're standing on a precipice? …At the very edge of falling. And it's as if… the body knows what lies beyond the edge, and is pulled to meet it… but the mind holds it back.

(With her eyes gazing distantly through the book’s pages, Radri fails to catch the responding quiet, longing glance that Xan sends her way.)

Xan: ...Yes. (Then he looks away, disappointed in himself to admit,) I experience the sensation daily.

Radri: I fear it, I think, but there's no use in dread, nor anticipation. What waits for me is already here. And I… and I….

(Radri falls into silence, feeling a chill move up her neck; on the book's open pages, her hand has begun to tremble. She flips the book shut, and grips it closed tightly.)

Radri: But never mind. It's getting cold, and late, and I shouldn't keep you here any longer. Shall we go to bed?

(She stands, and offers her hand to him. Xan stares at her.)

Xan: To bed?

Radri, pink: Oh—I'm sorry. To reverie, I mean. (Her offered hand withdraws partially, subconsciously, as she reflects to herself,) Though I suppose after so many nights, you must long for quiet, too. N-never mind. I'll ask Imoen—

(She doesn’t want to be left alone tonight, and Imoen’s unconscious company is better than none. But then Xan, composed again, accepts her hand before her doubt can rescind it.)

Xan: No, let us go together. Though it can only be a temporary illusion, I find a peace of mind in our rest together.

Radri: Really? (She ducks her head, her gaze drawn to the comforting sight of their joined hands, a touch which has already begun to take the chill away.) I'm... I'm relieved that I have not yet imposed on your kindness.

Xan, distantly, to himself: "Kindness." I wonder if it is….

—✧✧✧—

[crossposted on ao3]

"Will you guide me?" Radri asks.

"Guide?" Xan echoes, then gestures around them with a shrug. "It is a standard estate. There is the entrance hall, the drawing room, the parlor—"

"I lived in Candlekeep, Xan," Radri says, "The structures of "standard" living spaces are not exactly known to me."

"You say this as though there are no tomes on floor plans and architecture—but, no, I see that they must have been too dry for you to grant them your attention," Xan says.

He sighs, and holds out his hand.

"Very well... I will give you the tour."

Her hand slips easily into his, and a familiar jolt of joy and disbelief flits through her heart, unchanging no matter how many times now she has taken his hand. Unlike in the waking world, where their clasped hands facilitate the link between their minds, here, the gesture holds no practical use. For how readily and naturally he offers, this must all be second nature to him—but somehow, she's unable to reconcile the image of his offered, open hand with the way that she has so often seen him draw his cloak tighter around himself, as though the fabric were a barrier that could close him off from the world.

As they walk, Xan speaks in his low and solemn tone, describing to her the history in these halls; in the portraits, and artifacts; in the people that walk past, the figures of memory, their faces bearing a dreamlike quality. Radri finds herself staring, turning to look at them as they pass, subconsciously slowing until Xan's hand on hers acts as a tug.

"Come," he says, "We have almost reached the garden." She notes that they are already leaving the interior after only having passed through the common areas—wherever the chambers may lie, they are above, or further within.

Scattered sunlight spills in through the windows, filtered by the leaves that rustle gently against the panes from the outside. Warm yellow and deep green tones, abstracted by the thickness of the glass, make the windows appear to glow from within. Ahead, a rectangle of sunlight marks the presence of a set of glass doors, and they pass through them to a veranda, where the greens and yellows of earlier burst into detail and bleed vibrancy into the air around them, filling their surroundings with color.

Here, her hand falls from his, and her feet take her ahead on their own. A path, lined with flowers, winds into the swaying shadows of the trees, and her steps slow in these shadows, falling easily into silence.

"Radri?" Xan calls, with some worry, to have seen her disappear—but Radri does not call back, her hand pressed to her silent smile. There is no danger here in the calm of the past; perhaps she will loop back and surprise him, or perhaps he will follow. There sounds a rustle of leaves, a dragging of fabric—yes, he will follow.

She keeps two steps ahead, and yet traces a rhythm that she remembers easily, a pattern that she had learned at Candlekeep. Its memorization had been inevitable seeing as, for years, she'd had only the same set of shadows to train in. It is no wonder, she thinks idly, that her skills had remained in plateau until she had left. Her eyes, half lidded, can make out the obstacles now: this path to silently round the hay bales... these steps to slip past the barrel... this way to reach the door, and with practice, open the door without a sound. To her surprise, her hand, outstretched in memory, finds a handle. It is not crafted in an elegant arc, like the ones inside the estate, but bent into the bold angles of a firm, humble bracket. A flash of dread passes through her, but it is too late: she pulls.

The man behind the door turns at her entry, and his eyes gleam in satisfaction and glee.

"Oh, goodie goodie!" He cries, "I've gone and found ye first! You are the ward of Gorion, no doubt?"

Her mouth works, but her voice is gone, stolen by the sensation that has numbed her and turned her legs to lead.

"Not much of a talker, eh? I apologize for this sordid business, but I must have your head," he says, and advances upon her, bearing the tell-tale glint of a blade. With a vicious grin, he drives the dagger forward to meet her, and though her body tenses, knowing how to escape, she can't move—she can't move—

Her eyes shut tight, and a hand grasps her arm, pulling her sharply back. There is a clatter, followed by a heavy, dead thud, and she is spun around by her shoulder, as another hand comes to her cheek—trembling, light—Xan.

"Radri... Radri? Please... look at me."

But when she looks, she does not meet his eye; her gaze drawn away, cast back over her shoulder at the fallen man, who lies not dead, but unconscious.

"It is only a memory," Xan reminds her, drawing her away. The door closes, and they are back in the garden—but, her heart beating fast and high in her throat, she pulls away.

Away, away, and out of reverie. The night air is cold on her skin; her pillow is damp against the back of her neck; and her hand, clasped in Xan's, is nearly slick with sweat. Tugging herself free, Radri curls onto her side, moments before Xan gasps belatedly awake beside her.

She hears him shift, turning to her... then pause, silent, no doubt forming what he wants to say.

"Candlekeep," Radri says for him, cutting his unspoken question off before he can say it. "It happened in Candlekeep."

"I had thought that the first attempt on your life happened at the Friendly Arm," Xan says. "The others...."

"I never told them," Radri says, and her voice begins to tremble as her words spill out, "I—I mean, you saw it, what a... what a poor attempt, the... the man wasn't even armored, that—that dagger was all he had... what kind of leader would—would—"

"Would have frozen?" Xan says, quietly. "You were home, where you had been safe for decades, as long as you can remember. You were not prepared, and a moment of fear is nothing to be ashamed of."

"I can't have any moments of fear."

"Oh, but you should," Xan says. "I recommend it. No one is invincible, and the few true fearless are bound to foolhardiness and doomed to an early death."

Slowly, Radri lifts her head, gazing back at him. Her eyes are still damp with tears, but no pity shows in his; his gaze only softens, bearing relief. She wipes the tears from her face with the side of her hand, until Xan silently offers a handkerchief. He is quiet for another beat, and then,

"That day," he begins, slowly, "will you tell me what happened?"

She had thought that she had long swallowed the words, but now they rise, pressing against her closed lips. There is no magic at play, here; only time, and memory, and his quiet patience.

"He missed," she says. "The dagger, it... it only cuts me above the brow... and lands in the wood beside the door. He wrenches at it... there is an unruly nail, you see, Dreppin always did swear he would fix it... and though I have my opening, all I can do is stare. I had driven my blade into the hearts of countless illusions just earlier, but—but I'm too afraid to stab him. Then, I hear the wood crack, and I panic: I knock him out with a blow to the head."

Radri laughs, weak, and empty; Xan remains silent beside her.

"You know, the funny part is, I stepped back out into the sunlight and it was like nothing had happened. Parda asked, but... I thought that was it, so... I didn't say a thing. But then—but then—you have to guess," Radri says, feeling almost lightheaded, like something in the air has sent her mind spinning. Judging by the grave look on his face, she doesn't expect Xan to humor her—but he does.

"There was a second attempt," he says. "Just when you had thought it was safe again."

"You're right," Radri says, faintly, feeling strangely empty now. "I stabbed him that time... there was blood, on my new armor... surely Karan had seen it, and yet... I still couldn't say a word."

She falls silent, clutching the handkerchief in her hand, her eyes dry now, and her cheeks sticky with tears.

"I'm sorry," Radri says.

She ducks her head, unable to see the way Xan blinks from compassion into puzzlement, blindsided by her apology.

"For what?"

She doesn't know; she can't put it into words, knowing only that shame fills her chest. Shame, for being here in front of him—for craving his attention so deeply and totally when she has done nothing with it but worry him. Danger did not used to follow her; things did not happen to her. She had always been quiet, inconsequential, like a shadow in the halls.

"F—for," Radri begins, and then her hitched breath overtakes all other words, and she can only shake her head silently as she attempts to hide herself again.

Xan sighs. She curls in tighter on herself, sure that whatever he had seen in her has lost its luster now. Perhaps, if she had not accepted his offer of shared reverie, she would have been able to bear the facade for even just one day longer.

But then, fabric shifts, and instead of standing and walking away, he leans in, holding her.

It is a tentative embrace, and to some degree, it is awkward: she has brought her knees up to her chest, hunching in upon herself, so Xan is left to drape himself over the mountain she has made. His head tilts against hers, but it is held rigid, and leaves no weight upon her; and there is the slightest tremor in his fingers, whose touch is similarly feather-light, although they curl into the folds of her blanket, still draped around her. This balance is held for one frozen moment, until a sob escapes her, and whatever restraint he had had breaks, pulling his warmth and weight to her as though a new source of gravity had manifested in her chest.

"Forgive me," Xan says, quiet and low, "My arms can provide little comfort, but I am afraid that my words would provide even less."

She wants to speak; memories crowd in her chest, memories of Candlekeep, so unchanging across the decades that they all merge into a blur. She is the obedient child, quiet as she is told to be; the daughter of a storyteller, able to pluck the morals from any tale; the reader staring down at a thousand pages, for whom the world starts and ends between the covers of a book. She is an observer, nothing more. She is not seen. She is not seen.

And yet here she sits, painfully present in the real world, in the grounding weight of Xan's embrace. A great part of her wishes dearly again to hide—but a budding fraction feels nothing but sweet relief.

When at last she can exist again, she lifts her head, and Xan releases her immediately. She raises her gaze to meet his, and Xan looks pensively back at her, until he reaches out to tuck her hair back behind her ear. He places a kiss upon her forehead, and though fleeting, weightless, and gentle, with that kiss the last of whatever insecure words she'd held on her tongue are gone.

"The next watch is mine," Xan says, unfazed, as though he had not just turned some layer of her reality over. "If you wish, you can join me until you are ready to return to reverie."

He holds out his hand to her, and she takes it, allowing that familiar spark of elation dance through her fingers and up into her heart again.

—✧✧✧—

Friends

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Then I Shall Stay [crossposted on ao3]

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Newly Vulnerable (the second one in the link)

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Art Exchange

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First Impression / Attention

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United in Misery

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Waiting [crossposted on ao3]

(extra art)

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Recognition [crossposted on ao3]

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Stealthy Care

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Fever

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[Next is two versions of the same idea—I couldn’t pick one to throw out]

Radri: I think I've perfected my system—see? (She begins unfolding pages out of her journal, which each expand to a size larger than the journal's cover itself.) Map. Local maps. Open quest list. Closed quest list. Inventory—

(A regularly-sized page flutters out from the complicated arrangement; Xan retrieves it for her, then pauses.)

Xan: What is this ominous page of untitled dates?

Radri, freezing: Oh, um, a record of every... quail I have seen. I mark down the day.

Xan, raising a brow: I did not know you were a quail enthusiast.

Radri, quickly taking the page back: Well, we still have a lot to learn about each other.

—

(A quail passes by in the underbrush.)

Xan, flatly: Ah, there is another one. Will you mark it down?

(Radri, who’s about to reach unwillingly for her journal, pauses, then huffs.)

Radri: Fine! It's a record of every day that I have seen you smile! I am sick of marring it.

Xan, stunned: What? Why would you feel the need to conceal that?

Radri, annoyed: Because you'll say that I'm silly for keeping it, that we will all turn to dust, and that the work I put into recording these things is pointless because it is futile to preserve anything—a struggle which one would think I am intimately familiar with given that I spent my entire childhood in a giant archive.

Xan, fond: Oh, Estel'amin, even in your anger, your beauty is breathtaking to behold. Come here.

(Radri looks at him, and grows even more annoyed, though she still lets him gather her into his arms. Her face is now pink.)

Radri: I am still not marking down today.

—✧✧✧—

(Radri’s head rests against Xan’s shoulder as they rest together; he brushes absent-mindedly through her hair with his fingers, watching the way the last of the day’s sunlight plays across the strands, as they did so many nights ago.)

Xan: Do you remember that first night by the fire, when I arranged your hair?

Radri, eyes closed in contentment: Yes… it's a memory I used to revisit often. It was the first time I saw you smile.

Xan: I... I did?

Radri: You had this faraway, peaceful look on your face... I was unable to return to reverie for hours afterwards. I just kept picturing your smile when I closed my eyes.

Xan: A restlessness that I can relate to all too well. But... you spoke in the past tense, earlier. Is the recollection no longer to your liking?

Radri, defenses low, drifting off: It was a beautiful smile, but once I loved you I couldn't bear it anymore.

(The brushing stops.)

Xan: What do you mean?

Radri, realizing what she confessed: I-I mean… Well, I… My glimpse of it was clearly stolen, and it was not meant for me—you were no doubt recalling a memory. (She sits up, looking away, embarrassed.) When I began to wish dearly that you would look at me like that, I didn't want to see it anymore.

Xan: Well, it is fortunate that you now have memories to replace it, then.

Radri: ...

Xan: …Estel'amin, I know for a fact that I have smiled more with you than I have in the past four decades.

Radri: ...

Xan: *sigh* My beautiful, beautiful Radri, what doubts yet linger in your mind? What reason would I have to be false with you?

Radri: None.

Xan: None.

Radri, unable to contain it anymore: But sometimes, surely, you're just smiling at the beauty of nature around us! How could I presume to have factored into any part of that joy? I merely happen to be present.

Xan, dryly: Yes. Surely, you just “happen to be present” in all of the happiest memories of my life. Radri, there is coincidence, and then there is causation. You can believe me when I say that you are the cause.

Radri: ...

(Xan tilts her face towards his, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.)

Xan: If the countless words I have spouted in our months together have not been enough to convince you, what shall I do to show you? (As he leaves his kiss, he catches sight of the welling tears in her eyes.) Oh, Estel'amin...

(Radri turns her face quickly away again, covering it with a hand.)

Radri: No—I'm not sad, just touched!

Xan: Your earlier laments are wasted on yourself; you should lend them to me, who seems only capable of making his beloved cry. Though, it gives me the opportunity to kiss away your tears. Shall I?

Radri, lowering the shield of her fingers a fraction to glance back at him disapprovingly: That sounds unpleasant and salty for you.

Xan: And yet I would readily perform the gesture. Do you glimpse now the depths of my devotion?

(As he waits for her acknowledgement, her eyes widen in surprise, and she forgets to shield herself entirely.)

Radri: Oh... you're smiling.

(In his own realization of it, the smile is gone in an instant—but the memory remains.)

—✧✧✧—

A Gift [crossposted on ao3]

—✧✧✧—

Radri: I used to dream of finding someone to share all that I am with. I still cannot believe that I've found you.

Xan, touched and blushing a little, hiding it quickly: I dare not ask if I am all that you dreamed of. —And yet, there are the words now, hanging irrevocably between us. Let me guess: you envisioned gallant knights, white horses?

Radri, laughing: Do you think I immersed myself in love stories? That would be Imoen, not me.

Radri: I… It may be silly to say, but… I couldn't bear them. They were other people's stories; there was no place there for me.

(Xan looks at her softly, understanding; embarrassed, she doesn't meet his eye.)

Radri: B-besides! Even when I dared dream, I could never have imagined you.

Xan, unsure if he should be flattered or insulted: …

Radri: I mean—! You're… so… you.

Xan, unimpressed: I am… so… "me". Surely, in another life, you could have been a wordsmith.

Radri: Agh, just give me a second!

Radri: You were… so… intimidating, to me. Speaking to you felt like walking on a tightrope. ...As a child, I imagined that I would feel instantly at ease. That no matter where I was, with this someone, I would feel a sense of belonging… like I could finally come to rest.

Xan: …

Radri: And that's you.

Xan, blindsided: Radri—you very clearly defined how that is not me.

Radri: Not in the beginning, but it is now. (She waves a hand to the side idly.) A lot had to happen, of course, which I could not have imagined as a child—but, anyway. What about you? (She leans into him, wearing a lighthearted smile.) Am I all you dreamed of?

Xan: If you must know, I dreamed of little; I felt early on that I would not be one to continue on the family line, and chose not to dwell on romance.

Xan: But…

Xan: You have been all that I dared not dream of, Estel'amin. In knowing you, I realize that I have starved myself, for a long, long time…

(He kisses her hair, and she accepts it shyly, too touched to say anything. Xan gives her silent, flushed face an amused look.)

Xan: No response? Ah, I must still intimidate you, I see. (Smoothly, he takes her hand.) Perhaps more exposure will help.

—✧✧✧—

Xan: Sigh…

(Xan glances over at Radri, who hasn't looked up from her journal.)

Xan: Sigh…

(Xan glances over at Radri, who still doesn't look up. Xan sighs for real.)

Xan: It used to be that you would look up at my every sign of distress. (Radri finally looks up at him, but Xan looks away) Oh, how I wish big, strong Radri would come here and comfort me…

Radri, laughing a little: Alright, I'm here. What is it that troubles you? A general malaise?

Xan, frowning a little: Is malaise not already general?

Radri: …

Radri, pulling away and cupping her hand around her ear: My apologies, my lord, but I'm getting another call, from Lady Adventure—

Xan: Wait—

Radri: And she doesn't mind if I don't look up my every word in a dictionary—

Xan: Radri! (He sighs and turns away, giving up) I should have known better than to ask for your attention.

Radri, with a little smile: Oh, but I just remembered that I prefer your company to hers, so I redirected her call.

Xan, feeling sorry for himself: If only that were true.

Radri, teasing: Is what I'm hearing a general malaise?

Xan, still too sorry for himself to meet her eye: It is something, alright.

Radri: Well, perhaps I can work my magic.

—✧✧✧—

Rational Grief Response

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Storyteller / Return to Candlekeep

—✧✧✧—

[The first rest after being freed from Candlekeep’s jail; they’re still underground.]

(Radri has hidden herself away in shadow; it’s only through their bond that Xan is able to find where she’s retreated away from the rest of the group. He can’t see her, but he knows she’s nearby.)

Xan: Estel'amin... Will you speak to me?

(For a moment, he fears that he’s mistaken, that she’s not here and that he is only speaking to dust and cobwebs—but at length, she responds.)

Radri: We have nothing to talk about.

(Her voice… he’s facing the wrong alcove. He turns, searching for her direction.)

Xan: You are displeased with me, and for good reason. What I said was uncouth and unwarranted, and it will never happen agai—

(She interrupts his apology, barely listening, her tone clipped and dismissive.)

Radri: You should return to the others. I want to be alone.

(This alcove. He’s sure of it… he thinks. Something is off about her tone of voice, and he realizes that it suggests she’s not angry at him. If not him, then….)

Xan: …I do not think you should be alone in a time like this.

(A bitter laugh—and a fortunate scrap of light hits the familiar crimson of her cloak. There she is, in the darkness: her back is turned to him, and her hair spills dark across her shoulders, which are hunched in on herself as she hugs her knees to her chest, her form made small and cut off from view in the shadow of a cracked pillar. He would like nothing more than to rush over and embrace her—but he waits.)

Radri: Why? Are you afraid that I will spontaneously burst murder and chaos into existence around me if I am left unsupervised?

Xan: Radri—

Radri: The prophecies are written, after all, and I have already been dragging trouble around with me since I stepped out of Candlekeep. All of these spells, these nightmares, and that damned book—I knew it, I knew something was wrong with me! (In the midst of her anger, something in her voice breaks, leaning into sorrow.) You saw it too—dread filled your eyes when you looked at me. And yet when I pleaded with you, you stayed. We sealed it all with a bond that must not break... oh, how deeply you must regret it now. I will never be anything more than an unwanted burden, shuffled between keepers—I am sick of this life!

(He feels for a moment like he’s looking into a mirror—not this lament, but another, though are they not in a way all the same story retold—and the sorry hatred and bitterness in her voice seep readily into his thoughts like an old, unwanted friend. For that moment, he feels it; in the next, he lets it go.)

Xan: Rage at me for my thoughtless words as you will, but do not malign our love. It is true that I once sought to leave you, but it was nothing but the act of a coward, so afraid of the thought of losing you that he believed he would rather live with a hole in his chest than stay and love you. Indeed I knew nothing, for now that I have known your love, nothing across all the Planes could ever convince me of abandoning you again. I have never regretted our bond, nor dreamed of breaking it.

Xan: And what of Gorion? Was he not a father to you—did he not love you as his child? You do yourself and his memory a grave disservice to speak of yourself this way!

(Radri, who had remained unmoving, flinches at his words then with a choked, muffled gasp of breath; he pales, pulling back, worried now that he has overstepped his bounds. And yet, still, he cannot bring himself to leave her entirely to her suffering.)

Xan: If you truly wish it, I will leave. But I fear I cannot believe your request if you do not face me and say it. Please, Estel'amin... will you look at me?

(His heartbeat, loud in his ears, keeps him from any internal estimate of the passage of time. A thought, persistent at the back of his mind, tells him to leave now before he ruins what he has with her any further—and yet he stays.)

(Her cloak slithers across ruined tile, and her form retreats fully behind the blocking pillar… and then she emerges, standing, facing him as he’d asked. Her expression is solemn, and her dark eyes are dull, though something in her gaze still glimmers.)

Radri: I wish I were nothing.

(It is not the truth, and he is relieved for that. He takes a cautious step towards her—and as though he had broken some sort of silent stand-off, Radri’s lip begins to quiver, and then she’s crying, her tears spilling freely down her face. She makes no move to wipe them away; and neither does he, really, because when he rushes to her, he holds her, pulling her to his chest and kissing her atop her head, uncaring of whatever cobwebs certainly cover them both.)

Xan: If you were nothing, how could I hold you? How could I kiss you?

(He kisses her again; she has made no move to hold him in return, but this is a fatigue he understands, and he holds her tightly enough for the both of them.)

Xan: It is painful, I know, but you are here, and my heart is with you—and so is that of your sister, and of your father's old friends, who have through your just leadership become your own. (After just the barest pause, he adds reluctantly,) And I suppose even Viconia must feel some tiny, miniscule shred of supportive, positive emotion somewhere in her heart for you, which is a miracle in itself.

(She is silent, but then,)

Radri: …You referred to her as my sister… Imoen will be overjoyed to hear this.

(It’s too early for her to jest in earnest, but he finds himself holding onto the unlikely hope anyway.)

Xan: Ah, of course, out of everything I have said, this is the one word that sticks. Does this bring a smug smile to your face? I will imagine that it does.

(Radri pulls away from his embrace, which he relaxes, but does not release entirely—nor does she make the full effort to leave. Instead, she gazes quietly at him, seemingly merely in want of the sight of his face. He appreciates the sight of hers in return, but while some life has returned to her endlessly deep eyes, sorrow still lies within. He runs a gentle thumb across her cheek, still stained with tears; he has never truly regretted his nature, but he comes close now.)

Xan, quiet: What should I do, Estel'amin? I am no use in lifting spirits without a spell; that craft has always eluded me. Shall we return to the others, who will surely do what I cannot?

(Rather than accept readily, she glances down and away.)

Radri: I'm... not ready to face them yet. Can you stay here with me... just one moment longer?

Xan: Then I will.

—✧✧✧—

Desire [crossposted on ao3]

—✧✧✧—

(In the early morning, in Baldur’s Gate. Radri rouses from her reverie, only to see Xan already packed for his journey, and making his final preparations before he is off.)

Radri: Were you going to leave without waking me?

(Xan turns to face her; his expression holds some disappointment, but also a resignation, and to a subtler degree, a quiet gratefulness.)

Xan: That was my intent, yes. Though I should have known that it would not be so easy to slip away from you undetected.

(He leaves his backpack on its chair, and sweeps back over to the bed, leaning down to lay a gentle kiss upon her forehead. Radri gazes up at him, still blinking away the last sensations of her reverie.)

Radri: But why?

Xan: Why? If you could see yourself now, you would understand why. It was hard enough to muster the will to pull away from your resting form, let alone resist the pull of your vulnerable, open gaze.

(She snags his sleeve as he begins to pull away.)

Radri: I will walk you to the city gates.

Xan: You will not. If I let you accompany me to the gates, the moment I step through them you will declare, “I will walk you to the next town,” and so it will continue until your next words are “I will walk you to Evereska.” No, I must hold you here, and hold firm.

(She's a little put out—he's got her dead to rights. Radri sits up, glancing about the room.)

Radri: You have everything? Spellbook, components, potions—?

Xan, dryly: Yes, you have provided me with enough health potions to outfit a full adventuring party, and I thank you for your confidence in me.

Radri: …Perhaps I should accompany you to the next town anyway.

(She moves to swing her feet over the edge of the bed, ready to get dressed—but Xan stops her with a firm, unamused gaze.)

Xan: Radri, what am I, a fresh-faced youth being sent on his first adventure? (He sighs, and sits at the edge of the bed, taking her hands in his.) I would like nothing more than to take you back to Evereska with me, but its gates are closed to you. Would you have me be so cruel as to force you to wait outside for me as though you were a stranger?

Radri: You could.

Xan: No. You are my hope, my world, and my soulmate. I could not. Besides, it is you who insisted so adamantly that I keep our relationship a secret—not that I planned on telling my superiors anything in the first place, since it is a personal matter. If we were seen together, the nature of our relationship would be known instantly.

Radri: How so?

Xan: Estel'amin, have you forgotten already how you have transformed me? I would need to study for a hundred years to conceal the love I have for you—and I have no desire to, for I would wish for the whole world to know.

Radri, red: Surely not the whole world.

Xan: Indeed, the whole world. Were this land not ripe with our enemies, I would shout it from the rooftops, and spell it out in the sky... but you have already begun to shrink away from me in terror, I see. Do not worry; I will be discretion itself.

Xan: So, are you satisfied with our farewells? May I take my leave now?

(Radri looks at him, and at the backpack on the chair, and at the ceiling and walls of the room that surround them—a room that, without him, will surely feel large, cold, and empty. She will not be alone after he is gone; the others are still here in the city, ready for adventure, wherever it may take them. Still, she feels as though she is about to return to the loneliness she had lived in in Candlekeep: surrounded by many, yet seen by none.)

(Xan, after waiting and watching throughout her silence, begins at last to pull away—but she holds on, one last time.)

Radri: Are you not going to kiss me?

(A deeply tortured look flashes through his dark eyes, which she recognizes now to be of the kind that he used to send her in their early months together. It spells a yearning for that which he believes he should not have—and before she can wonder what it is that he has forbidden himself this time, he leans in, kissing her. He lingers, tender, savoring the moment… as does she. As they part, at last, he gives a soft, gentle sigh.)

Xan: Now I will think of little else but the taste of your lips. You have ruined me, Estel'amin, and yet I carry your soul with me happily, with all the contentment of a man oblivious to or uncaring of death...

Xan: I promise, I will return to you as soon as I am able.

—✧✧✧—

Sad Influence

— — —✧✧✧— — —

baldur’s gate ii: soa

— — —✧✧✧— — —

Reunion

—✧✧✧—

Birthday Wish [partially crossposted on ao3]

—✧✧✧—

Promise [crossposted on ao3]

—✧✧✧—

Innate Evil

—✧✧✧—

Xan: Do you think your father would have approved of me?

Radri: Hm? My human father, or my divine father? Because from what I've read, Bhaal was a cruel and difficult god to impress, and you haven't the temperament for his methods of worship.

Xan: (shivers) No, and I am glad I do not. I meant Gorion, of course.

Radri: ...

Xan: ...You are giving it more consideration than I thought. Never mind, Radri—it was a foolish question, and perhaps I no longer wish to hear the answer.

Radri: I think he would have liked you. We shared a similar sense of humor; he would have enjoyed your jokes.

Xan: Yes, these famous jokes that I myself am not aware of. I see, so I would become a court jester to not just the princess, but the king, as well.

Radri: I think if you were a court jester, it would be to the king first, and to the princess second. —And did you just liken me to a princess?

Xan, red: A slip of the tongue, I am sure. Though given the abysmal attitudes of nobility in the human lands, you deserve far better than to be compared to—well, let us just move on so that I do not inflate your ego any further.

(Xan turns his gaze back to his spellbook, ready to return to their earlier comfortable silence—but Radri takes his hand in hers with a soft smile.)

Radri: You make me happy, Tahlimil. No matter what he might have thought of you... he would be glad for that.

(The corners of his lips rise slightly, in what has almost become a regular occurrence… then the smile falls.)

Xan: I... mentioned before, my dreams, where my parents disapprove of our relationship....

Xan: I think they would have their misgivings. Certainly about the way that I have thrown everything aside for you, like a lovesick fool... a fool that perhaps I am. I have left my career... left Evereska... and indeed, one could say I will begin to shirk my duty next, though I have not been struck dead yet.

Xan: But I think if they had the chance to know you, they... they...

Xan: *Sigh* Never mind. This is a pointless line of thought. I cannot imagine what they would think, and I will not see them again for an eternity, and that is only if I am lucky. I regret having brought it up.

(Radri gazes quietly at him, then tilts her head against his shoulder, the contact gentle and light. He does not tense, so she squeezes his hand lightly, pressing their palms together: for the briefest moment, some of what burdens him is shared with her.)

(He sighs again—not sharp this time, but soft—and he tilts his head against hers.)

—✧✧✧—

[A while after this exchange:

Xan: I wanted to enchant a ring for you, but this one overshadows everything I will ever be able to give you. How ironic that it comes from the Shadowmaster of Athkatla.

Radri: And how unfortunate that none of us can even wear it, our equipment being what it is. I would rather have your ring, instead.

Xan: A mere bauble will not protect your life, and I have no time to enchant it properly. Perhaps in the future... but no, I have distracted myself from what I wanted to say.]

Radri: I've been thinking about your ring.

Xan: My ring...? Ah, the one that has yet to be made.

Radri: But it already has, hasn’t it? You’ve carried a ring with you ever since you returned from Evereska.

Xan: You noticed? I can slip nothing past you, I see. But it is not complete, Estel'amin—as I alluded to before, it is unenchanted, and as such, it is yet nothing.

Radri: It is not nothing. Its current form is to its advantage: enchanted, it would have to compete with the other enchanted equipment I carry, but unenchanted, I can wear it always.

Radri: Even now, it would bring me courage—or, would you rather that it raise my sense of self-preservation, although as I keep trying to convince you, it is already appropriately high?

Radri: I... I suppose we speak so much of the future now, and of dreams of a quiet life, and when we’re so far from all of it, I’d feel one step closer to…. Oh, never mind. I feel like I’ve stolen a secret from you; I'm sorry, I won't mention it again.

(She looks away, out across the cityscape; in the sunset, even the slums district appears awash in glittering gold. Beside her, Xan remains quiet for a moment, then retrieves something from the pocket of his robes.)

Xan: This ring has been passed down in my House. Through trial and tribulation, and the endless march of time, its magics are gone, having long served their purpose; it holds only its history now. I carried it with me from Evereska thinking, perhaps, that I would give it new life—that when it was ready, I would present it to you in ceremony...

Xan: But perhaps I have been thinking too long.

Xan: Here. My ring, unfinished and unpresentable as it is. If it pleases you, even in such a state as this, it is yours—but I promise you, I will strive to make it worthy of you someday.

Radri, meeting his eye warmly as she accepts it: I love it, Tahlimil. It is already worthy.

Xan, embarrassed and relieved: Why does my mind insist on tormenting me with thoughts of your judgment, when my heart already knows what you will say? Though now that it is on your finger, perhaps it is time to let go of my frivolous dreams of holding a formal ceremony. We may as well just find a quiet spot in which to say our vows.

Radri: No, we must still have the ceremony. Because you wish for it, it must be so, and it will be grand and beautiful.

—

Radri: I lost it.

Xan: Lost what?

Radri: I lost it! Linvail's ring! I had already been thinking of getting rid of it since it only takes up space in my backpack, but—to not even be able to recoup the barest fraction of its value by bringing it to a shop?! Oh, I can't believe I—Xan?

(Radri looks up in time to see Xan shaking in silent laughter, which then bursts out in a full laugh.)

Xan: Of course! Of course, you would care so little about a ring powerful enough to belong to royalty that you let it be misplaced! What an absurd life it is we lead!

Xan: Meanwhile, mere trinkets are given the treatment of kings—even the blooms I had set upon your hair a year ago were kept carefully preserved in your journal, as though they were imbued with a lifetime's worth of magic and not merely painfully ordinary. Sentiment will not save your life, but you hold it dearer than the things that could.

Radri, half insulted: I think I strike an appropriate balance between sentiment and practicality.

Xan: Oh, Estel'amin, smooth the furrow in your brow; I do not laugh at you, but at myself. I see that even if I spent centuries in study, you would not love the ring I enchanted for you for its boons, but for my efforts. What pointless, pointless jealousies I bear…

(His rare mirth fades as he sobers once more.)

Xan: But I am sorry that the ring was lost—it was truly in a class of its own, and now you will earn nothing for it.

Radri, still in shock and awe of what she’s just witnessed: No, I... think in the end, it paid for itself.

—✧✧✧—

Dragon Slayer [crossposted on ao3]

—✧✧✧—

Just Friends (a direct redraw)

—✧✧✧—

A Monster

—✧✧✧—

The Graveyard Encounter (an outline of changes)

[At the inn, after Xan survives and Bodhi lies dead:]

Xan, at the tail end of asking Radri a question: ...What do you think?

(He turns to her, but Radri has her head down, and clearly hasn't been listening to him.)

Xan: Radri?

Radri, quiet: You nearly died.

Xan: I know. Admittedly, I am still shaken by the encounter. If it were not for you and my moonblade, I would have been transformed into something abhorrent... once again, you have my gratitude, Estel'amin.

(Xan seems content to leave it at that, but Radri isn't. She lifts her gaze to his, revealing the tears in her eyes.)

Radri: But it was so close.

Radri: If I hadn't formed a connection to your moonblade—If I hadn't asked the right question that day—

Radri: W-would you even have told me on your own? That it was possible? Or would you have kept silent, and died today?

Xan, worried by how shaken she looks: Radri... none of us are ever far from death. Though it may not look it, every day is like this one. Luck, coincidence, and sheer miracles save us—

Radri, firm, distraught: Our actions save us.

Radri: And today I could do nothing but watch—Don't you understand?

Radri: I-it's not like I couldn't get there fast enough.

Radri: I was right there—but it's like I was frozen again, and—

Radri: And I would've had to watch you die—

(Radri's voice breaks, her tears falling—and Xan, truly concerned now, goes to hold her)

Xan: You did act, Estel'amin. I could not have been saved without your will.

Radri: ....

Radri, unable to word the turmoil she's feeling, just repeating: It was too close.

Xan: I know.

(Radri just lets herself be held for a moment, instinctively searching for him through their bond again, but it's too faint for her to feel anything close to what she did in that moment in the graveyard, when the urgency of the moment had lended her a single-minded determination. She pulls away to look at him—the dusty shoulders of his robes, his combat-mussed hair, the fading scar on his cheek... his worried eyes. She'd caused that, by making a bigger deal of this than he had.)

Radri: Tahlimil?

Xan: Yes?

(She'd wanted to ask that he not leave her sight for the time being, but holds the words back.)

Radri: You... you were asking me something earlier, weren't you? I interrupted you.

(Xan can tell that's not what she wanted to say, but lets her change the subject—and knowing how affected she still is, he changes his question, too.)

Xan: I asked... if you wished to join me in the bath.

(The tub the Copper Coronet provides is barely big enough for one person to soak in, let alone two; Radri tries to communicate this, but in her current state, it comes out as:)

Radri, caught off guard, puzzled: I... but... the inn, it doesn't... what, take turns?

Xan, warm, amused at her sentence fragments: No, no. Would you believe that I discovered a bath house nearby? Far too late to enjoy after our escapades in the sewers, but perhaps it was waiting for when it would be most needed. There is a private room we can share. What do you think?

Radri: Oh. I... I think that sounds nice.

(Xan's small smile becomes relieved as he sees the tension in her shoulders already relax a fraction.)

Xan: Then follow me.

— — —✧✧✧— — —

baldur’s gate ii: tob

— — —✧✧✧— — —

World’s Saddest (Hypothetical) Chosen

—✧✧✧—

Innate Evil, Self Accusation Edition

—✧✧✧—

[The TOB scene where Xan cooks her an omelette.]

(While Radri begins to eat, Xan just leans his chin on his hand, gazing contentedly at her.)

Xan: When this is over... when we have made our home... I would cook breakfast for you each morning.

Radri: I see you don't wish to suffer through my meager skills in the kitchen.

Xan: I could never find any aspect of my lady wanting, and your skills will grow with time. No, I would cook for you to love you.

(It’s been so long, and he’s said that he loves her so many times, that Radri imagines she should have developed at least some resistance to it by now—but she hasn’t. She blushes, touched.)

Radri: Are you not going to eat, too?

(Xan gazes dreamily at her blushing features, fully content.)

Xan: Oh, I have already been fed, and most heartily. If I had known even earlier the extent of what shy expressions you reveal in private...

(Radri blushes harder.)

Radri: Each day it becomes harder to believe that you are the same man who spent ten minutes gathering the words to ask if he could kiss me.

Xan: Ah, but I am not the same man. I am remade each time I wake and meet your eyes; each day I walk at your side; each night I rest my beating heart beside yours. I have been transformed a thousand times over, and wish to be again.

Radri, gathering him a forkful: I think you should be transformed by this omelette.

(Xan takes the bite from her fork, and his expression falls, disappointed.)

Xan: Oh... I do not think I added enough salt, after all.

—✧✧✧—

silly alternate universes

radri was raised “evil”

radri was raised in evereska

#i didn't even know what to title this. 7000 words of me getting this ship out of my system??#sovo writes #baldur's gate #honestly though the way he was like 'she'll get over me' after the effect he had in HERE is like. i dont think so my man #xan x radri

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hallufabrication · 3 months

Text

It's a small world

A fic about various things I wanted to write about instead of rambling about them; focuses on Manta and Hannah. The whole thing is under the cut.

Manta didn’t expect his and Hannah’s connection to fizzle out the way it did.

Not that he was expecting anything specific; She wasn’t someone he would really consider a friend. At the same time, though, he couldn’t deny that they weren’t exactly strangers, either. They hung out sometimes, she tried to help him during his illegal race against Corto, and they bonded over how great they thought Teach tech was – something that left a bitter taste in his mouth now.

He would have expected some kind of a lukewarm goodbye, or an awkward wave as they stepped onto the boats meant to take them to their homes. But as the boat steering towards the Solar Sea took off, there was no exchange between them - in fact, he wasn’t even anywhere nearby, instead preparing for his and Shino’s attempt at getting a better life for themselves.

He did think then if he should have approached her outburst the day before the way he did. Back then, he didn’t see it as anything more than a show of weakness; she wouldn’t have lasted a day in what he had to live through on Polaris. Why should she get sympathy for being a double-crosser? For only feeling bad now that it was too late anyway, now that Gavinda’s plan was in full swing?

But it wasn’t too late. Not to her and the Tikis, anyway. And she did her part in fighting against Teach…

Unlike him, at first.

No, Hannah wasn’t weak. After everything, Manta could tell that much.

Maybe he shouldn’t have underestimated how cruel Teach could have been to her. Maybe that shouldn’t have been his last words to her.

“Oh well. Too bad”, he thought, going back to packing his stuff. What’s done is done.

He hasn’t really thought about this, or anything related to the Mirages, for the next few months. He had more important things on his mind - building a new life from scratch with Shino (and Debbie) on an entirely new island was challenging enough to take away any time he could have had for reminiscing about his old acquaintances from the Whale Cup.

They weren’t on his mind these few months later, as he was walking through one of the lesser known alleys of Tortuga to his boat, either - at least not until he saw a familiar looking silhouette walking through one of the streets he’d usually pass.

“Hannah?” He called out instinctively, more out of surprise than anything else.

“Oh– hi, Manta.” She replied, turning around to face him. “Been a while, huh?”

“Yeah, but– What are you doing here?”

“On Tortuga? I came for the Rotor Punch, obviously.” She shrugged. “But, I wanted to see how you’re doing with my own two eyes while I’m here, too.”

“You heard of me?” He asked, squinting his eyes.

“Duh. It’d be harder to not hear of the famous White Tiger, honestly.” She said, leaning on the wall next to her. “You’re taking Aquagram by storm– You know that, right?”

He shrugged and made an indecipherable hum. Debbie did tell him that he was getting more popular day by day, but he never really got interested in how popular he was outside of Tortuga, exactly. His winning streak mattered to him more than whatever she was doing over on her hologlove.

“Wait, but– Rotor Punch? You’re competing?”

“What, you think I can’t handle it?”

“It’s just– I didn’t know if you’d still be racing after… Everything.”

Hannah frowned for a short second, but quickly smirked instead.

“It takes more than that to make me quit, you know. I managed to get into Solar Empire’s drone guard.”

She crossed her arms, still leaning on the wall.

“So, I’m the one representing the Empire this year.”

“Oh, wow. You got yourself a solid position, huh?” He said, walking over and sitting down on the stairs next to her. “How’d you even do that?”

“Eh, turns out getting to the finals of the Whale Cup was good enough of an achievement to sign up. Only had to climb a few ranks after that.”

“Pshf, sounds easy.” He teased. She only hummed in response.

“What about Adam? Is he participating with you?”

A slight grimace showed up on Hannah’s face. Manta wasn’t sure how to decipher what emotion it was supposed to show.

“...No, he’s not. He hasn’t reached out to me after Teach’s defeat.”

“Oh.” Manta said. “...Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Hannah sighed, sitting next to him on the stairs.

“...I haven’t tried to reach him, either. At first I thought I should, since Teach manipulated him, too, but… He was always more invested in her plans than I was. It seems like we both picked our sides.”

“...I see.”

“Yeah.”

A moment of silence fell upon them.

“And you’re…not worried?”

Hannah glared at him for a few seconds before deciding on an answer.

“I… don’t know. I have mixed feelings about it all.” She stated, resting her chin on her hand.

“Teach was cruel to him, too. She’s not going to suddenly do a 180. But, if that was his choice, then–”

She suddenly waved with the same hand in the air, leaning back.

“--so be it! I’m not going to chase after someone who made up their mind!”

She let out something between a groan and a sigh, hiding her face with her hands for a moment.

“...What’s it to you, anyway? I didn’t take you for the type to talk about this kinda stuff.”

Manta shrugged, looking somewhere else.

“You were the one who said it’s been a while.”

“Heh– yeah, that’s true.” She chuckled. “I guess it did a number on you.”

“Hmm.”

They sat for a moment in silence before Hannah stood up from the stairs.

“...Well, I should go. I take it you’re taking part in the Rotor Punch too, right?”

“Of course. Who do you take me for?”

“Yeah, thought so.” She smirked again, turning back to go about her way.

“I’ll see you around, then. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Psh, as if I’d need that. But yeah. See you around.” He replied, also getting up from the sidewalk.

As he got back to walking to his boat, he felt a sense of a relief he didn’t expect.

Turns out, he was sorta glad to see her again.

#i dont really know why anyone would do this but just to be sure?? don't tag as ship? like any relation mentioned in this #droners #droners hannah #droners manta #droners season 2 #droners fanfic #i mentioned in the tags of that adam ramble that i was thinking of hannah's POV too but wanted to write it. well. heh #its done finally #at first i was kind of surprised to see that she didn't even mention him but as i thought about it it did make sense #we don't really know much abt what they went through long-term together but afawk hannah has no idea abt what happened in the titan #meaning she doesnt even know adam was taken by teach against his will #from her POV he might as well be staying on her side willingly. and maybe she is upset about it #but unless he's mentioned by someone else she's moving forward & not thinking about him #which honestly good for her that she's not letting this bring her down #there is also the fact that its been a few months #even if this 'moving forward' would be harder at first she had time to get used to it #so. yea #still hoping that they'll adress it in the show #but i don't really feel her not acknowledging all this as OOC

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jouska-the-deer · 7 months

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People still suck at writing Sonic the Hedgehog

Interpretations of Sonic outside of media made by Sonic Team often seem either unable or unwilling to reconcile the fact that Sonic is both kind-hearted and intelligent, but I think I've noticed a recent shift in the way writers try to reconcile it.

In general, there seems to be this belief that smart people are inherently more pessimistic toward the world and that kind people are inherently more naive towards it. So, when writing for a character who's both smart and kind, less knowledgeable writers end up flanderizing them in one of two ways:

The first way, which is how Sonic was interpreted in Sonic Boom and prior, is making the character act like a jerk who knows best. At worst, they'll be outright rude towards their closest friends, but any criticism they get for it will be ignored because their opinions are always correct in the eyes of the narrative. At best, they'll sometimes make mistakes and learn lessons about being nicer to other people, which is something their non-flandarized self wouldn't have struggled with.

The second way, which is how Sonic is interpreted now, is making the character a saint who solves everything with friendship. At worst, they'll give absolute tyrants a million chances, but any criticism they get for it will be ignored because their opinions are always correct in the eyes of the narrative. At best, they'll sometimes make mistakes and learn lessons about certain people being unwilling to change, which is something their non-flandarized self wouldn't have struggled with.

You may have noticed I straight up copy/pasted a couple bits of those last two paragraphs. Well, that's because those bits reveal a bit of truth in how Sonic is portrayed by Sonic Team. Sonic's opinions are always correct in the eyes of the narrative, because of the lessons he no longer struggles with. Sonic already learned to balance his desire to give people a second chance with the fact that some people just have to be stopped. When? Since the very beginning. Sonic has always been trying to defeat Eggman for good while also giving second chances to people who he thinks deserve it.

But how do you deal with people who are causing so much harm when you still think they deserve a second chance? Guess what? Sonic answered that straight up in Sonic Adventure 1.

Do me a quick favor and if you can listen to Open Your Heart, specifically the Sonic Adventure 1 version (Click here). You may notice that there're two distinct sets of vocals; One clean and high pitched, and one distorted and low pitched. (And if you're wearing headphones the audio will even pan during the chorus.) For context, this is the song that plays while Sonic is fighting Chaos.

You can figure it out yourself from there, but if you want me to really dig into the topic, feel free to keep reading.

So like, I shouldn't have to say this, but the dark negative voice is Chaos' view and the light positive voice is Sonic's. But notably, they sing together during key points, specifically those related to the anger, sadness, and hopelessness that Chaos has been feeling for ages. Sonic has recognized that 1. imprisoning Chaos as suggested by Tikal wouldn't solve anything because, 2. Chaos is only acting this way due to being blinded by hatred for those he perceives as selfish monsters, and 3. he's still very much currently destroying the world and won't change his mind because he's lost hope that there's anything worth holding on to.

What does Sonic do then? Sonic may be an unstoppable force but Chaos is a seemingly immovable object. Well, he literally uses the positive energy from his friends and within himself to stop Chaos' rampage and prove that there are still good people in the world that want to maintain peace. After he loses the fight, Chaos is able to calm down and see that the cute defenseless chao he'd been protecting ages ago had survived, living among the very people he had assumed could only be power hungry monsters. He's able to let go of his hatred and live a peaceful life understanding that good people still exist and the world is still worth protecting.

And that's where the question is answered. How do you deal with people who are causing so much harm when you still think they deserve a second chance? You do everything you can to stop them, and if they're still around afterward, show them that they didn't need to fight in the first place. But that only works if they had a good reason behind why they were fighting, and would have chosen peace otherwise.

Sonic wanted to give Chaos a second chance because he knew that violence was not truly in his nature. Had he not been forced into those specific circumstances, Chaos would have chosen peace.

And that's what separates characters who have done a lot of harm but Sonic still gave a second chance to like Chaos and Merlina, from those who have done a lot of harm but Sonic wouldn't give a second chance to, like Eggman and Erazor Djinn. The former wanted peace but became convinced that it was impossible, and the latter only wanted power and were willing to hurt others to obtain it. The characters who Sonic won't give another chance to have proven that when dealt a better hand, they'll still chose to hurt others solely for their own gain, because that's what they want. To stop them peacefully, Sonic would have to convince them to give up their true dreams.

And that, is why Sonic's opinions get to always be treated as right in the games, because they are right. He has an absolutely kind heart, a nuanced understanding of morality, and the integrity to never give in to selfish desires.

None of this means Sonic is always right, though. Most people already know of his impulsiveness, which is his greatest weakest, but also one of his greatest strengths. Sonic never waits to act, which is great when innocent people are seconds from mortal danger... but not so great when a situation looks to be one way but is actually another. He teases Eggman for pleading for a second chance in Unleashed and he kicks the Cacophonous Conch from Eggman's hand in Lost World, and both of those were massive mistakes.

But, despite making those mistakes, his mindset wasn't the problem. How was he supposed to know Eggman was a shockingly good actor leading him into a trap? How was he supposed to know the people Eggman was controlling with the conch were equally as evil? (Yes Tails tried to warn him but literally if he didn't Sonic wouldn't have looked stupid and it just shows how poorly written Lost World was overall.) Had Eggman actually been pleading and the Zeti good people, Sonic's actions would've been justified.

Still, those were mistakes, and Sonic always wants to do what's right, so he does what he can to fix his own messes. He restores the planet Eggman broke apart. He stops the Zeti from sucking the life out of the planet. Sonic always makes things right in the end, and so he has the right to be so confidant in his beliefs. So confidant in fact that he doesn't care about looking like the bad guy if it means doing the right thing. Oh look, there's a song about that too. From Sonic's fight with Merlina in Sonic and the Black Knight. (Click Here.) Don't be fooled by the feminine vocals, if you paid attention to the themes of the game, the song is clearly from Sonic's perspective.

So yeah, Sonic is kind but he's also smart. He won't let anyone change his mind on anything, but he doesn't need to change his mind because he follows his kind heart and compassionate soul. He doesn't worry about looking like the bad guy because he and his friends know his true nature. When he gets angry he lets his rage fuel his desire to save the day. He'll never shed tears of despair because he knows that if he keeps fighting he'll make things right in the end. Sometimes his impulsiveness gets him into trouble, but it also helps get him back out. No matter what happens to him, he'll always make it out in the end either through sheer determination or the help of his friends.

Sonic is absolutely silly; He makes dumb jokes about his enemies and talks to himself when there's nobody around. Sonic is completely serious; He's willing to kill someone if it means saving the world and has felt multiple friends die before his eyes and in his arms.

Sonic is literally just some blue hedgehog who can run really fast.

Sonic is a god, and could kill god, and there is not a difference!

But most importantly, Sonic is all of those things at once. He is a wonderfully balanced character who's been right from the very beginning and has spent all his games sharing his wisdom with others simply by being himself. He isn't perfect, but that's not due to some personality flaw he needs to correct, but because nobody can always have all the answers and know how to avoid all potential mistakes.

The problem is, writing a character like this is hard. Writing conflicts for a character like this is hard. Most writers rely on making their protagonists work through relatable flaws to create an emotionally compelling story... but you don't need to do that. Sonic's conflicts are mostly external, but we care about him succeeding anyway because he's a good person who's just trying to live his life.

So really, if you wanna write Sonic well, you have to just let him speak for himself.

...By the way I mean that literally. Dude listen to his character theme it's all right there! (Click here.) Even when his theme was altered in Sonic Adventure 2 the only thing that changed was how confidently the same ideas were delivered. (Click here.) But seriously listen to literally any of the game themes, final boss themes, and ending themes. (I'm not linking all that.) No matter the quality of the games, if Sonic wanted to teach you something he was gonna teach it... through the power of having a music department detached from the nightmare that is game development time crunch.

And that's why Sonic Lost World is the worst Sonic game. Because it was so pointless that Sonic didn't have anything to sing about!

Wait... what was the point of this post again?

#Sonic the Hedgehog #StH #Sonic #Writing #Characterization #Flanderization #Jouska's Thoughts #Tag Ramble #BTW just so we're clear I like Boom!Sonic and Movie!Sonic. They're not Game!Sonic but they're decent interpretations of Sonic.#Boom!Sonic was often snarky but he was still mostly a nice person. Movie!Sonic is widdle and is getting better just give him some time.#I dropped off of Prime from boredom but it annoys me solely due to people thinking it's canon when you can tell it's not just by watching.#You can also tell because game Sonic would've totally said 'I love you too Shadow' and it's honestly gayer that he didn't.#Game!Sonic screams 'in my hands I hold the ones I love' meanwhile Prime!Sonic is too chicken to say he loves his friend even as a joke.#Huh? Too scared to say you love Shadow? Wouldn't want him to think you're serious? Why? You could just say you don't. Would you be lying?#Okay but seriously there was a WIP I wrote years ago where Shadow chewed Sonic out and he responded by saying 'I love you too Shadow'.#Sure it was a ship fic but that scene wasn't romantic. Sonic nearly got himself killed by being dumb and Shadow was just worried and pissed #And now if I actually used that scene for anything people would think it's a Prime reference and that annoys me too.#Anyway it's almost 5 AM for me so I should stop typing about hedgehogs and go to bed already.

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tealenko · 2 years

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fever madness...

Warning people, I have the flu, a fever, and access to the internet.

Very dangerous combo...

...maybe I don't say anthing else tonight...

but I have this weird feeling that I'm going to fall in one of my vortexs and tell you all sorts of random stuff... like how much I want to bang Matt Murdock's voice anytime I hear him say ANYTHING, especilly if it's legal stuff...

ups

as I said, I have a fever... so don't mind me... yeah

well, while we're on it...

god bless the mcu for giving me the multiverse and allowing me to strongly ship Matt Murdock with Jennifer Walters in one reality *chef's kiss* and with my ogcharacter (with is definitely not a self insert *laughs*) in a completely different timeline.

Happy friday people!!

#idk how this turned into a Matt's Murdock appreciation post but it did lol #I promise it wasn't my intention #38ºC and going up wuuuuuuuuu~~#matt murdock #daredevil #current mood #I honestly feel aweful but marvel gave me a ship I didn't know I needed and now even though my body is giving up my soul is thriving!#I think I'll go write me a fanfic where someone makes soup... yeah

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dearest-lady-disdain · 2 years

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the only unrealistic thing about the mortal instruments is how alec and magnus are the only queer people in the nyc gang

#i have nothing against canon ships but i also just realised that simon dating isabelle and maia at the same time is reminiscent #of Gregory Fucking Hirsch from hbo succession and the comfrey comtessa situation #i have many opinions about all this but i don't even know where to start #like. we didn't see internalised homophones with alec he was mostly angry at the society and his father - which. fair enough dude #but jace? would absolutely have layers upon layers of internalised homophobia and shit if he was queer #dude this guy was raised by valentine! remembet the falon incident? the haha i pretended to get murked to give my ten year old son -#who isn't actually my son because i kidnapped him by the way - trauma for days?#he made him believe that jace loved clary with 'the wrong kind of love' when he tricked him into thinking the were siblings #and their blood relation was the only reason she could ever love him the only reason she felt drawn to him but they didn't know that #so instead of strong familiar love they went for romantic love and such #on the other note - simon is a vampire and that's kinda homoerotic ngl #clary clearly had internalised misogyny going when she met izzy and one of the examples i remember is when they sat next to each other in #the first book in the diner and she was like 'ugh who would even want to smell like vanilla? like a dessert? so all the boys would want to #eat her? what a whore' and i just think this is really funny and honestly yeah i think this scene alone could be very sapphic #as in 'i hated you because i haven't realised i was attracted to you' way and yeah maybe that's toxic #but clary and isabelle definitely show some girlfriendism in the books and they would do that even more if i was in charge of writing them #hope this makes any sense whatsoever #i would write more but it's getting late i might've sprained my ankle or something because it hurts as shit and im tired #fuck autocorrect for changing homophobia to homophones this is so funny as in way to funny to me

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thegoddesswater · 3 months

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WIP Summaries

Because I don't really have anywhere that folks can just see what the heck my current writing projects are about - currently I'm sticking to the six WIPs from my previous 'bad summary' poll; there are other works I have but they're in deeper hibernation than these ones. I'll toss it under a cut so uninterested parties may continue about their days with minimal interruption. :P

Tagging @tc-doherty - because I know you've said you're interested in this!

I've these split between Original Works and Fanfictions. The three original come first, because I want showcase them more. And they won the poll, so it's only fair. Also, I'm more comfortable talking about them and will probably skimp a bit on describing the fanfics. As always, there will be extra rambles in the tags.

404 - Youth labourer wipes own memory then realizes "shit, I needed that"

Glenn works as a “Deezee” - one of the poor souls whose job it is to brave the waste and radiation of the Dead Zone to track down whatever resources can still be found there - it’s hard work, and the hazard pay isn’t nearly what it should be, but he can’t afford to be picky. Ever since his father disappeared, along with all the money, the survival of the rest of his family has been Glenn’s only goal. It’s not easy to disappear in a world of digital trails and citizen tracing, but he’s learned well enough to hide his tracks, scrambling codes and tweaking his implanted ID chip into a last-resort failsafe to erase everything. Evadne has an internship studying the Dead Zone and effects it has on those who work there. She’s introduced to Glenn by his fellow Deezees, who point him out as someone who might be of particular interest for her work. The research project leads to friendship between Evadne and Glenn, which eventually includes Evadne’s socialite boyfriend Cal, who much prefers their company to the 'high society' types he's supposed to be rubbing elbows with. When Glenn trips his failsafe, destroying his own memory in the process, it falls to Evadne and Cal to follow what few clues remain to try to help their friend remember who he is, even as they begin to uncover secrets which make them question whether they ever really knew him at all.

Miadhachain Legacy - "i am not a cyborg" insists man with USB charging ports in his spine

As the daughter of Senator Miadhachain, Zaria’s life has never really been her own, having been used as little more than a pawn in her father’s political machinations over the years. In her teens, she was publicly handed over to the care and keeping of Chancellor Bardrick as false collateral to give the appearance of the Chancellor attempting to rein her father in. Years on, Zaria has positioned herself in government intelligence where she deals in secrets, leveraging the aggressive reputation associated with the Miadhachain family name to coerce information out of dissenters while quietly carving herself out the slivers of power that she’s sure the world owes her. Amid the rising protests against Chancellor Bardrick, security measures for all those near him are ramped up, resulting in Zaria being assigned a personal bodyguard. In a move that reeks of even more political posturing than her own movement into the care of the Chancellor, Zaria’s new guard is the military’s current poster-boy, the slum-born Adair Rios, much to her annoyance. With Adair acting as her second shadow, progress on Zaria’s personal ambitions stalls as she’s sure he’s recording and reporting every single thing she does back to his superiors. Adair, for his part, doesn’t care overmuch what Zaria is doing as long as she doesn't make his job harder. He’s suffering a case of rapid disillusionment with life and being told to watch over Senator Miadhachain’s daughter is just another entry into his list of grievances against the hand he’s been dealt. At the top of that list are the painful and invasive procedures that have been forced upon him after his cybernetic augmentation, procedures which seem to show no sign of stopping anytime soon, despite how much they seem to be deviating from the original ‘limb replacement’ he signed up for. After a colleague makes a passing comment about how the Chancellor finally seems to have a plan to ‘eliminate the whole Miadhachain problem,’ Adair begins to suspect that he - and Zaria - might be caught in a much bigger scheme than they realized. The two of them will have to figure out how to trust each other and work together to make sure that they make it out the other side.

Talentless/Wild Card - Despite impending war, the king is really just concerned with his flower garden The above description is not only a bad summary, it's a bad summary of the B Plot.

For years Prylea has managed to keep the tenuous peace between its neighbouring countries of Jerendalia and Casica, but with tensions rising again and the threat of war closer than ever, the Prylean Queen vanishes, shaking Prylea’s once stable foundation. With the loss of Queen Fraise, it falls to King Xalvadore to hold Prylea together as best he can, despite his deteriorating health. Recognizing the dangers of getting caught up between Casica and Jerendalia, King Xalvadore sends his only magic-less knight afield to find the missing Maggie Blackwill: a mage who may have the power to - if not to stop the coming war - at least help bolster Prylea once more. Armed with his wits, kindness, and an enchanted sword in case those first two don’t work out, Sir James ventures across Prylea, towards the keep suspected of housing Maggie, in the hopes of bringing her back to King Xalvadore before Casica and Jerendalia can mobilize against each other, with the weakened Prylea caught in the crossfire.

Run, Runaway - Displaced teenager accidentally reignites decades dormant gang war Fanfic for Jak and Daxter series

Atin, frustrated and rebellious, runs away from home just to get away from everything in Haven. He figures he can just lay low in the crime City of Kras for a while, and intends to do just that. Unfortunately for him, he's recognized as the offspring of folks who really shook up the status quo last time they were in town. With the two big rival gangs each reading way too much into Atin's presence and trying to figure out what the other side brought him in for, Atin's plans of 'lying low' are very quickly destroyed.

Hilarious (to me) fact about this one - this is a 2nd gen fanfic and at some point during the years that this fic has been hibernating, I realized that the two canon characters I created Atin to be the child of would probably never willingly have children. (Also this one was very much a 'just for me' fic, and I was always a little baffled that it had readers when I was actively posting it.)

[Untitled] - Depressed, unkillable immortal decides destroying the world might help Fanfic for Fire Emblem 9 and 10

After the war, Lehran swore that he would always be there to keep the Goddess of Chaos company, but when he loses the ability to hear her along with the abilities of his people, he flees. No longer what he once was, and unable to die, he watches as fear and hatred rise again over the centuries and can only watch from the side as those who were once his people are slaughtered. Deciding that people will never overcome their differences, he decides that annihilation is the only answer. And maybe, maybe if the world dies, it can finally take him with it.

The Heart of a Warrior - Hero with PTSD struggles to run errands while followed by insufferable child Fanfic for Jak and Daxter series

After saving the world three times before even reaching the age of majority, Jak has seen a lot of shit. Too much, really. He's learned that there's no rest for heroes and has learned to be suspicious of what looks like peace. To avoid too much time spent inside his own head, Jak tries to keep himself moving. It would probably be more effective if one of the local children hadn't decided that he was the coolest person in the history of ever and keeps trying to tag along. While Jak somewhat tolerates the hero worship, he's pretty sure this whole situation is going to wrong. He wasn't looking for the universe to prove him right.

This is still a bad summary, but the kid I was when I started this story had no idea what she was doing. Adult me is sure I wrangle it back into something coherent. (This is the fic that I often allude to in the tags as having been un-updated for seventeen years and am currently reworking so I can finish the dang thing.)

#writblr #writing #my stories #writing wips #Talentless/Wild Card #404 #Miadhachain Legacy #I haven't decided if Glenn's story is '404' or 'Project 404' yet but it didn't have any working title until recently #Part of blowing the dust off ML involved discovering how much of it echoed events of 2020 - I had to change things there #Because there is something really REALLY uncomfortable about teenage me coming up with nonsense that I've since lived through #And even worse is the fact that teenage me was able to come up with nonsense that the conspiracy theorists were touting as 'facts'#Run Runaway falls exactly in the overlap that isn't supposed to exist between fanfic and original works; there's A LOT of original content #I started Run Runaway as essentially a rejection of so many trends I was seeing in people writing 2nd generation fics at the time #The Fire Emblem fic started because I shipped Sephiran/Zelgius and hoo-boy did my framing narrative get out of hand there #it became an excuse to snap Sephiran and shake him like a glowstick #I honestly hate Heart of a Warrior's title so much but that title is part of its legacy. Also I have nothing better to offer it currently #I was doing the thing where 'the hero gets to wrangle a kid' long before disney decided that was the only way to do new Star Wars content #Just sayin'

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ravensroleplays · 11 months

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Soooo...Snatcher might have ended up catching romantic feelings for someone again...

#mun speaks #my ahit au #gonna get back to posting on my main blog and maybe write an open starter here in a bit but i just had to make this announcement #this isn't the first time this has happened (yes even outside of the vanessa thing)#but i honestly didn't expect to ship my guy with anyone ever again heh #but i'm doing a discord rp with a friend rn and she kind of just suggested the idea to me and i was actually on board for it #so yeah--now he's being a big goofy dork for this pretty lady and i'm honestly really LOVING it??????#and this is actually the first shippy rp i've ever done with this friend--so that's different...but in a good way!#this is NOT how i expected this to go when i first suggested the idea to my friend but yeah--i'd love to see where this goes!

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getinthehandbasket · 1 year

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Question for Darklina authors

Where did the fandom get this idea that Aleksander loves eating pussy more than anything else in the world?

#Honestly I'm getting tired of it #it's getting formulaic #he eats her out #makes her come one to three times on his tongue and fingers combined #and then shoves his giant dick in her #god #I need to write this ship if I want to see anything else don't I?#but that means I need to read the fucking book(s)#and/or finish the show #uuuggggghhhhhh #like #I get it he's hundreds of years old #and has had countless lovers #so of course he knows what the fuck he's doing in bed #but the number of times I have even seen his dick touch her mouth I can count on one hand #after I've lost a few fingers #I'm gonna have to use all my imagination for this one aren't I?#ugh #time to start coming up with questions my fic needs to answer #beyond 'hey what if they fucked and they DIDN'T follow this formula?'#although that can totally be answered on its own too #depends on how dark I want to make it #darklina #can’t believe I forgot to tag that in the first place

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writersdrug · 14 days

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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2

<- Previous - Next ->

Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep

A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

--------------

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

------------

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #simon riley x reader smut #ghost x reader smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader

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puranami · 5 months

Text

✿ Omelette ✿

A/N: A little fic based on one of the prompts I have~

Summary: Sanji finds you cooking an omelette in your underwear at an ungodly hour.

Content: Warning - my really bad attempt at writing anything outside of lil paragraph points (blz help, I have no idea what I'm doing)

Despite the scenario - it's all SFW and fluffy like dem eggs! A light dusting of pining, G/N reader. ✿

(Part 2) - (Part 3)

You had tried to sleep and ignore the rumbling in your stomach, but the harder you tried, the more you felt it, and you had finally reached your limit. If you were to be at all functional tomorrow, you needed to eat something. Only then could you try to sleep again.

Exhausted, you drag yourself from the safety and warmth of your blankets, slowly ambling towards the ship's kitchen, single-minded in your endeavour. All that mattered was appeasing your stomach, leaving you completely unaware of the sudden cold that embraced you once you had left the confines of your quarters.

Flicking on the kitchen light, you quickly gathered everything you needed, deciding that the best thing to make would be an omelette. It's an easy dish, filling, and doesn't take long to make. In other words; it was perfect!

You make quick work of prepping the eggs, seasoning to taste, even considering throwing a little cheese in there before deciding against it. It's not like you believed the myth of cheese giving people nightmares if eaten before bed, but you were so desperate to be able to sleep afterwards that you didn't want to risk it. Stranger things have happened on this ship.

The pan hisses as you pour in the eggs, sounding much louder in the empty kitchen, only amplified by the late hour.

"Don't you sass me," you grumble, "The middle of the night is a perfectly acceptable time for an omelette!"

Unbeknownst to you, you weren't the only one awake on the ship, and your late night excursion had attracted attention, clearly not having noticed any of the noise you were making.

"I thought Luffy had snuck in on a midnight raid with all the clattering," a groggy voice behind you laughs, but you are too tired and focused on cooking to even register that you had been joined by anyone. Sanji leans against the table opposite the kitchen island, fidgeting with the hem of his nightshirt, waiting for an answer that never came.

Surely you heard him, right?

"Is everything alright, darling?"

Nothing.

Terms of endearment usually prompted some kind of response, be it a dismissive laugh or an equally fond term of your own, clearly thinking they meant nothing in particular. He'd accepted pretty quickly that they wouldn't be the way to win you over, but it certainly didn't stop him using them, at least on you. The same couldn't be said about everyone else, as he was no longer vying for the affection of anyone but yourself. Sanji wondered if you'd ever noticed that.

A clumsy flip of the omelette brought him back into the moment, honestly surprised that you hadn't dropped it on the floor.

He moved his way to your side of the kitchen, round the central island toward the stovetop.

"Why are you cooking at this hhhh-" he wheezed at the end, only now seeing that you weren't in the pyjama bottoms he'd assumed you'd be wearing, but in your underwear.

He clasped one of his hands over his mouth, the other grabbing the island for support as he felt his legs begin to fail him. Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, he blurts out, "W-WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?" as his face went fully crimson.

That finally gets your attention, but you are slow on the uptake, mind completely glazing over the fact that you had at some point gained an observer. Finally, furrowing your brows a little, you murmured a soft "What?" You knew a question was asked, but nothing else beyond that.

"Your pants, darling!" he gestures wildly, continuing to look down, knowing if that he caught sight of your bare legs again, he would lose his mind.

You stand there, pan hovering in the air away from the stove in one hand, a plate in the other, looking absolutely lost; you had completed your mission of acquiring omelette, and so your brain had decided it was no longer needed. Looking down, you see your legs and feet, wiggling your toes a little, then you look back up at the mess of a man in front of you, things finally starting to fall into place in your overtired mind.

"Oh, Sanji, what are you doing here," you ask, sweet as anything, completely ignorant to the battle he was waging internally. Once you plate your omelette, you place it on the island before putting the pan back on the stove to cool and grabbing a fork to tuck in, oblivious to Sanji frantically unbuttoning his night shirt beside you. He refuses to look directly at you until he has covered you with it, cheeks noticeably burning with how flustered he is.

"Darling, you can't do that to me," he says, almost breathless, "I am a weak, weak man; I can't handle seeing you so bare!" He manipulates your arms into the sleeves of his nightshirt, ignoring your protests when he briefly pulls the fork out of your hand in the process, before buttoning you up, doing his best to preserve your dignity.

As you feel the warm sustenance finally begin to settle in your empty stomach, you feel your brain booting back up, at least a little bit.

"Ah, shit I forgot to put on pants..." You giggle, wondering why everything was always funnier when you were tired. Taking another bite of food, you look down at your legs once again, starting to fully comprehend the situation you found yourself in. "I guess I was just too hungry." He can't help but sigh at how nonchalant you are.

Looking back up, your brain once again decides to abandon you, not from how tired you are this time, but from your eyes being met with his bare chest and abs, causing your own face to turn a charming shade of red. Sanji was always so neatly dressed, so he most you ever saw was his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves to work. It made sense that he was in good shape given his fighting ability, but it never really hit you until you saw his body tonight. There wasn't really any way to get accustomed to it, not like there was with someone like Zoro, who had his shirt off at least half the times you saw him, flashing his man tits whenever and wherever he damn well pleased.

Sanji's eyes never left you during this quiet minute, one that felt like hours, and he couldn't help but feel a hint of pride when he watched your eyes dance over his shirtless body, clearly flustered, bringing a confident smile to his face.

"Everything alright down there, sweetheart," he laughed softly.

You were clearly lost in your thoughts, it finally clicking why he was shirtless; he'd put his shirt on you. You brought a long sleeve up to your face as you dragged your eyes away, looking awkwardly to the side to your recently emptied plate. The shirt smelt like him, only without the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. It was sweet and musky. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but you felt a wave of feelings crash into you. Feelings you knew were there but had simply brushed aside, assuming they were just a result of his natural charm more than anything. But, you couldn't so easily disregard them now.

Sanji followed your gaze. "Ah, don't you worry about that, my dear," he says, grabbing the plate and bringing it to the sink, leaving you standing in a bit of a daze. "I'll take care of things here, so you go and get yourself back to bed, alright?"

"Oh, no!" You couldn't help how loud that ended up being, surprising the both of you. "You shouldn't have to clean up my mess," you say with a more regulated volume. If there's one way to get you back in the present, it's offering to do something you feel solely responsible for.

"In all fairness, darling, you shouldn't have been cooking in my kitchen in a state of undress," his cheeks started to go pink at the recent memory. He clears his throat before continuing, "Do you know how dangerous that is?" Ah, the professional chef just can't help himself when it comes to kitchen rules.

You pout slightly as you lean back against the centre island.

"Sorry, Sanji. I wasn't really with it. Too tired, too hungry..."

He makes quick work of the dirty items you had used, all while prattling on about safety and other things you probably should have listened to. Drying his hands, he makes his way back to you. It is evident you hadn't really been paying attention.

"At least promise me this," you look up at his warm, smiling face, "if you ever find yourself in this predicament again, please come and get me."

He brushes back some loose strands of hair, tucking them neatly behind your ear.

"You know that I'm always happy to cook for you, right? Whatever you want, whenever you want it."

Returning a gentle smile of your own, you nod.

"I promise."

With that, Sanji leads you out of the kitchen, plunging it back into darkness as he flicks the light off.

You reach his quarters first since he's closest to the kitchen. He pauses outside his door, hesitating for a moment. There are so many things he wanted to say to you, yet he couldn't bring himself to utter a single word.

Oblivious, you carry on toward your own room, turning back to him to wish him a good night, nearly falling over your own feet in the process, to which he smiles, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Bonne nuit, ma chère."

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals; I tried my best! This is my very first full fic ever, so if the grammar, wording, presentation, literally anything is bad; it's bc I am completely winging it! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

#one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x you #sanji x reader #sanji x you

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nicksolemnlyswears · 7 months

Text

SWEET TREAT

TWO IS COMPANY, THREE IS A CROWD

pairing: opla!sanji x reader, opla!zoro x reader

word count: 2.8k

warning: 18+, smut, swearing, penetration (p in v), oral (m receiving), food play, slight vouyerism

a/n: i didn't think 'TWO IS COMPANY, THREE IS A CROWD' would receive so much love. it's been overwhelming (in a good way) how well it's been doing. thank you to everyone who liked it and reblogged it!

as a thank you here is part 2 because if zoro had his moment so should sanji. (isn't that gif of him precious?) honestly you don't need to read part 1 to understand this. it's basically porn without plot (although it does have more plot than the first part lol)

i'd like to repeat i've only ever watched netflix's one piece so don't come for me if they are out of character.

i might just write a buggy oneshot next...that clown is coming for me.

Sanji outdid himself once more with dinner. No one in the crew can deny that recruiting Sanji onto the Straw Hat Crew was a great idea. Not even Zoro, who downplays his gratefulness with jabs towards the ‘waiter.’

With a full stomach and the rocking of the Going Merry the crew shuffles to their respective shared rooms to get some rest. Except for you.

You stay behind, gathering the empty plates and returning them to the sink. Sanji shoots you a thankful smile and pecks your lips gingerly as he turns to clean up the mess he made on the kitchen counter.

It’s peaceful as you scrub the dishes and Sanji returns everything to its respective spot. Each time he walks past you his palms find your hips, squeezing your body and rubbing up against you unnecessarily. Sanji just likes feeling your presence. Physical touch and acts of service is how he shows his love.

You don’t mind his touch, you revel on it actually. There’s something about big strong hands on your hips that makes you feel safe and fills your mind with impure thoughts.

You and Sanji talk in soft voices to maintain the unusual peacefulness of the ship. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he helps you dry the clean dishes, his breath tickling you and making you giggle.

“Saved space for dessert?” Sanji whispers, his eyes on the hallway leading to Luffy’s bedroom, afraid the boy will barge through the door.

“You’re telling me I have the pleasure of getting dessert?” You quip with a grin while looking up at him.

Sanji softly laughs, grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him. Your arms instinctually go around his neck. “You were the only one who helped me clean.”

“I just like spending time with you,” you whisper getting on your tippy toes to brush your lips against his.

“Even more reason to treat you with something sweet,” he responds, fully capturing your lips in a kiss.

With only the two of you around he takes his time to sink into the kiss. Tilting his head to deepen it and brushing his tongue against your lips. One hand grabs your hip while the other tangles in your hair, pulling you closer.

“I thought you were making me dessert not that I was dessert…although that can be arranged,” you tease him, dropping down back on your feet, leaving one last kiss on his jaw.

Sanji chuckles and shakes his head at your words, “You’re sweet enough to be dessert, but you’re right I did promise you a treat."

Kissing your forehead, Sanji opens up the pantry to get the necessary ingredients. You lean against the counter besides him as he fixes his sleeves up and starts whisking ingredients together. All of his movements are precise and confident.

Your eyes zone in on his strong forearms. The veins and tendons tensing as he whisks away. You can't help but remember all the times he's held you in his arms, his strong grip and the pleasure he gives.

You move to stand behind him as he finishes up, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him. You leave kisses along his spine, resting your head there for a moment. Neither have to speak to appreciate each others presence and the calm environment.

“All done, darling,” Sanji announces. He places his arms over yours to intertwine your fingers and give the palm of your hand a kiss.

You peep from behind him seeing a dish with chocolate mousse and whipped cream. It's your favorite dessert, the same one he recommended back when you first met at Baratie.

As you reach for the dish Sanji grabs you and lifts you to sit on the kitchen counter. You laugh as he stands between your open legs, bringing the dessert up between the two of you.

You part your lips as he raises the spoon up to your lips. Sanji watches you expectantly and a sense of satisfaction fills him as you close your eyes in pleasure.

The mixture of flavors invade your senses causing a moan rises from your throat. Sanji's proud smile falters as your tongue swipes your bottom lip to clean off a bit of chocolatey residue. A wave of lust crashes against him and settles deep inside of him.

“Best one yet, Chef Sanji,” you say none the wiser to the thoughts of the blonde chef.

“Yeah?” He says huskily, “Let me try, darling.”

The taste of the chocolate is alive in your mouth as Sanji presses his lips against yours and sneaks his tongue inside your mouth. There's no better place to taste his creation than from you. You squeal in surprise but lean into the kiss, grinning at his playfulness.

“I have to agree with you,” Sanji responds breathlessly, tucking a stand of your hair behind your ear.

“Smooth,” you giggle, taking the dish and spoon from his hands.

You and Sanji share the tasty dessert. You take charge of the spoon, feeding it to him in intervals. When it's nearly done you take a bit of left over whip cream and spread it on his nose.

Sanji stares at you open mouthed, he wasn't expecting that from you. "You're disrespecting the chef, love," he says moodily, wiping the nose with his finger and looking around for a rag.

"Am I?" You question, grabbing his hand. He looks at you questioningly as you lift it up to your lips to suck the finger covered in whipped cream.

The same sensation from earlier fills him once more as your lips wrap around his finger. You lock your eyes with his as your tongue swirls around it, just like it would if it was his cock. You release it from your mouth with a ‘pop’ with Sanji staring at you lustful eyes. His cock stirs in his trousers, feeling confined all of the sudden.

“You're being a little brat after I've treated you so well, darling?” Sanji breathes out, grabbing your thighs and sliding you to the edge of the counter. Now pressed against him you feel the bulge you've caused.

"I'm sorry?" You 'apologize' with a mischievous grin and a shrug.

"Sure you are," Sanji grumbles, stealing a kiss from you. He doesn't kiss you long as he leaves open mouthed kisses along your neck, the smell of your perfume still present on your skin. His hands sneak under your shirt, touching your warm skin and making you shiver.

You cross your ankles behind him, keeping him close to you as your head dips back. You feel his tongue on your collarbones, sucking a bruise on them.

As best you can you blindly unbutton his shirt, allowing your nails to rake down his chest and stomach. Sanji's abdomen tenses at your touch, which doesn't go unnoticed by you.

Sanji's lips soon return to yours, slipping his tongue past them to play with your tongue. Teasingly you slip a finger in the waistband of his trousers, pulling on it playfully.

"Let me make it up to you," you pant, referring to him calling you a brat. Undoing the belt and popping open his trousers you slip your hand under his underwear.

"You're going to be the death of me, woman," Sanji groans when you take hold of his cock and pull it out of its confines. You smile widely at him as you begin stroking his length.

Sanji's attention is redirected to your chest as he brushes off the straps of your top down your shoulders and pulls it down, exposing your chest to him. He feels you shudder when the cold sea air hits your skin.

An idea forms in his head when he notices the left over whipped cream. Reaching out to it he grabs a dollop of it and spreads it over your hard nipples. He's combining two things he adores, you and food.

"Sanji, what?" You gasp, looking down at the mess he created.

"You said you could be dessert," he reminds you, briefly kissing you.

His mouth encases one of your nipples to clean you off the sweet cream. Sanji's tongue swirls and flicks against it, making your back arch in pleasure.

You momentarily stop pumping his cock in your hand, getting lost in his touch but Sanji reminds you as he thrusts into your palm. You continue to rub him up and down, tracing your thumb over his sensitive head to spread the bead that has formed there.

Meanwhile, Sanji switches to your other nipple, licking and sucking it. He needs to give props to himself as the whipped cream is delicious, especially topping your skin.

Sanji pays equal attention to each one of your breasts as he pinches and pulls on the one not in his mouth. Above him he hears your dulcet voice calling his name. Your touch is addicting as he sporadically jerks his hips to meet your pace.

Your chest and neck continue to be covered in whipped cream and yet you don't feel the stickiness as Sanji indulges on the sweet treat. Even as he comes back up to kiss your pouty lips you taste the sugar on them, leading you to crave some yourself.

"I want some whipped cream too, you know," you tell him with a pout.

"There's some left over," Sanji answers you albeit a bit confused. Seems like he forgets he's not the only one that can play around with food.

You gently push him back and drop down from the counter. Grabbing the small bowl with the left over whipped cream you kneel on the floor. Sanji is taken aback but nontheless lets you guide him to stand right in front of you.

His cock bounces as he settles in front of you. You grab it and give the tip a little kiss. Sanji grabs the counter behind him to brace himself. Dipping your finger into the bowl you spread the whipped cream along his length, letting some accumulate on his head.

Sticking out your tongue you lick Sanji from base to tip, gathering the sugary substance. You lick and lick until there is none left. Sanji watches you like a hawk, knuckles white from how hard he's grabbing the edge of the countertop. A grunt or two leave his lips, urging you on.

Sanji hisses your name when you push yourself to take his whole length in your mouth. You look up at him, cheeks hollowed and wide eyes, feigning innocence. "You saucy minx," he chides you.

Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail Sanji takes charge of your pace and the depth you take him. You hold onto his muscular thighs, letting him do as he pleases. Your tongue does wonders as it swirls around his cockhead with each opportunity that presents itself.

The combination of your warm mouth and the visual of you half dressed and flushed takes him to the precipice but before he's able to climax he forces you off his cock. He's not about to cum without having your walls wrapped around him. Helping you up he brushes your watery eyes with his thumbs and kisses your wet red lips that match your nose.

Positioning you to face away from him, he leans you over the counter. You glance behind you as feel him pressing up against you. Sanji pulls down your shorts and panties, ignoring the wet patch on them. His fingers dipping between your legs confirms what he already knows. You've been anticipating his touch ever since you decided to stay behind to help him clean up.

"Would you look at that?" Sanji smirks, spreading his fingers to watch your slick webbing between them.

"Sanji, please. I need you," you whimper, wiggling your hips.

"Now you decide to be polite, darling?" Sanji asks, swiping his cock against your drippy slit. It catches against your entrance, teasing you.

"Mhm, please," you shakily beg.

"Remember to be quiet or else the others will come wandering around," Sanji warns you, slowly pushing into you.

You bite your lips to keep quiet as it slips in smoothly. You swear you can feel the long vein that trails down his cock and the curve of it that hits you just right.

You hold onto the wooden counter for dear life as Sanji begins thrusting into you. One hand grips your hip, pulling you back towards him and the other runs down your back, occasionally spanking your ass to get a rise out of you.

"Such a good girl," he groans. At his words your pussy clamps around him, seems like you have a praise kink. "You like when I call you that, huh?" Sanji asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Yes, Sanji" you moan out, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of your boyfriend.

Sanji straightens back up and continues to thrust into you. Steady and deep. He focuses on the mess between your legs as a white ring forms at his base whenever he pushes back into you.

Shamelessly he grabs your ass, spreading it to see how your pussy chokes him out and how your walls drag each time he pulls out.

The height difference between the two of you is inconvenient. You're on your tippy toes as he grabs your hips to pull you impossibly closer.

You and Sanji are lost in the moment, concentrating on each other. So much so neither notices how Zoro walks into the kitchen. Quiet as a mouse, he walks around the counter until he's across from you.

You're a sight for sore eyes as your tits bounce with each of Sanjis strong thrusts. He'd come for an after dinner snack before heading to bed. He figured you'd be here with the waiter since he wasn't back in their shared cabin.

Sanji doesn't say anything, more than used to Zoro's presence by now. Zoro grabs the bowl of left over mousse and dips a finger in to taste it, liking it he grabs a spoon and leans back to watch.

"Is the waiter making you feel good?" He asks as he takes a spoonful of dessert. Sanji almost growls at the name but the feel of you choking his cock quiets him down.

You gasp at the sound of his voice. You had your eyes closed and as you open them you see Zoro, staring intently at you. You nod before speaking, "Fucking me nice and deep."

"You've gotten better at keeping quiet, baby," Zoro praises you, leaving the now empty bowl behind. He leans over the counter on his elbows, he's eye to eye with you now. "If I didn't know any better, I would have no idea of what's going on here."

"You really think now's a good time to have a conversation, mate?" Sanji glares at him. Zoro's presence causes him to snap his hips harder against yours. Your body jostles harder against the counter.

"Why not? Her mouth is free," Zoro shrugs, returning his gaze to his pretty girlfriend who is trying her hardest to keep quiet with the change of pace. "But I can leave if that's what you want."

"No!" You exclaim, extending your hand out to him to take. Zoro smirks at the blonde, grabbing your hand and cleaning the bead of sweat forming on your forehead.

"Whatever," Sanji mutters under his breath.

Your quietness doesn't last seeing as soon as Sanji touches your clit you yelp and tighten your hold on Zoro's hand.

"There she is," Zoro smirks at the noise you make. The harder Sanji thrusts and the more he touches your clit the louder your noises get.

"Sanji. Zoro." You whine, scrunching your eyes closed focusing on that knot settling deep in you.

"Spoke too soon. Want to help her out, Zoro?" Sanji grunts. He's not going to last much longer now. He feels the pressure coming to it's limit.

Zoro comes closer to you and kisses you. It's nearly not enough to keep you quiet though as your moans leak in between each kiss. Your fingers come up behind Zoro's neck, deepening the kiss as you feel your toes curling in anticipation.

Soon Sanji's thrusts become erratic and once he feels your walls clenching around him as you cum, it's over for him. He stills inside of you, shooting his load. Sanji helps you ride out your orgasm, circling your clit gently till you push him back.

There's a moment where you're slumped on the counter, forehead pressed against Zoro's. Sanji is inside of you not moving, his fingers caressing up and down your back. Your pussy spasms around his softening cock every so often.

Only when you attempt to straighten up does he pull out and helps you pull up your panties and shorts, seeing you like the mess that comes afterwards.

Sanji tucks himself back into his trousers and buttons up his wrinkled shirt, tucking it in as if nothing happened. Wrapping his arm around your waist Sanji kisses your temple and whispers another praise in your ear.

The two men exchange looks and smile as you lean tiredly against the blonde. The arrangement you three have is unorthodox but it is convenient. You make good use of your time giving them both the attention and affection they need.

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