#sorta lol

a verrry important event

"Against what?" the adventurer asks. They didn't say anything, but this does not tend to stop the ilithid from passing judgment on stray thoughts.

This is not a stray thought. It is an unwise fixation. There are not enough hours in the day to comment on the majority of your 'stray thoughts'.

The adventurer smiles. "If you insist. Well, what's so unwise about it? You'd want to eat me?"

No. I still require your assistance.

"Good to know." They laugh. For a proportedly straight-forward species, their ilithid companion tends to beat about the bush.

It makes an audible grumble. You will not be able to resist domination, and I will not let you go.

That gave them pause. "And here I thought you were indifferent to me," they joke.

You are useful. You would make a good thrall.

They cross their arms. This does beg an obvious question, doesn't it?

Your guild's trust in me is tentative. Enthralling you would be counterproductive.

"Fair enough, I suppose." But—

It is in my nature to dominate. I resist this impulse at its root. Letting you go is another matter altogether. It would be as unnatural to me as you choosing to starve mere feet from a banquet hall.

"Fine, fine, I get it, I'm too tempting for a taste," they say, waving their arms in the air. "Just don't complain if one of your buddies enthrall me first."

There is a palpable silence in the adventurer's mind. It raises the hair on their neck; the ilithid is never this quiet.

You make a compelling point, it finally 'says'. Perhaps it is in your nature to be dominated. You will be useless to me if you stray.

Their heart skips a beat. A moment passes. Nothing happens. "...You're messing with me."

No. It was a test.

Face flushing, the adventurer scoffs and says nothing.

Perhaps we should return to the guild. Your perversions are a liability.

"Hey! That's not fair, I just— I thought—"

Very little.

"Shut up, I just panicked," they insisted, heat crawling down their neck. "That's the whole reason I figured it might be a good idea to– to, y'know, get me used to the, um... The sensations, or warning signs—"

There would be none. Your mind would spread for me at first provocation. Instantly, you would slip into a waking slumber and never rouse again.

"...Hmph." They fold their arms again.

If nothing else, your eagerness is noted. Perhaps the guild would allow me to buy you at some future junction.

"I'm not for sale!" they bellow, indignant.

this is old i drew it back in may and never posted so uh…here you go 🤲

not proofread, like ALWAYS AND I HOPE YALL ENJOYYY

“Get the fuck out of my way, hag!” Zanka scoffed, piercing another trash beast with his Lovely Assistaff as he felt his back push against yours. This was definitely on his list as one of the top three worst days he’s ever had. 

First was when he met you.

Second was when Rudo threw shit on him. 

Third is today.

You two were paired on a duo mission of all things! Sure, maybe it was a medium-risk mission that could easily be considered an easy-risk one if you two could just get along. But one snarky comment after another turned into a shouting match between you two, attracting more trash beasts as a result and making more work for you to handle. 

“If you weren’t such a wet rag, your royal highness,” you sneered, swinging your weapon in return before glaring at him from behind. “We wouldn’t be in this fuckin’ mess in the first place!”

You were always at each other’s throats, yes, but you also had amazing synergy with him. Your weapon was similar to his assistaff in many ways, and that made you two have similar fighting styles as well. As annoying as it was, there was no better sparring partner for you than Zanka. 

It didn’t help that you joined the Cleaners a similar time as him. 

You grunted, trading places with him and huffing at how he picked up on your intentions so quickly. Swinging your vital instrument, you scooped up the trash beast from his assistaff, you pulled the finishing move by pumping a pulse of power similar to a ground tremor. Zanka would scoop the disgusting monsters up, move ‘em to you, and then you’d vibrate the everloving hell out of them until the anima in their system combusted. 

That spear of yours was hella useful, Zanka had to admit to himself and no one else. He’d rather bathe in shit than do that.

“Ooohhh, like yer sum’ BIG fuckin’ help, ain’t ya?!” He faced you, eye twitching in irritation as he towered over you. There were perks to being 5’10”, one of those included casting a shadow over you and making you look up at him. 

You rolled your eyes in return, pushing him back with bottom of your weapon as you matched his tone. “I don’t see you killing these pieces of shit!” 

“Watch it!” 

“You watch it!” 

Yes, if you’re curious, this continued the entire mission. 

This led to you and Zanka bathing in fatigue, migraines pulsing in your heads because of all the yelling before, between, and after the mission. To think that this was supposed to be an easy one… eliminate and go home, that was supposed to be all. Both of you weren’t even beat up! Just—tired. 

“Ghhh…” You grumbled, rubbing your temples as you nodded at Semiu’s greeting. Zanka followed behind you, a scowl printed on his face as he dropped the report he finished. If it’s not in the report, it didn’t happen. All that shouting never happened as long as you didn’t document it, he told himself. 

“Yer still a pain in the fuckin’ ass.”

“Says the wet wipe.”

“Ew.”

“You’ve had literal shit plastered on your uniform, don’t ‘ew’ me, Nijiku.” You snorted and he didn’t have a retort for that. 

This seemed to be a common occurrence.

After a mission, you two wouldn’t be exhausted by the actual fight, but your own verbal ones. Then, you two would saunter over to the kitchen to grab a bite of food when there weren’t many people. No words would be spoken in this timeframe. Only your quiet breaths and occasional sighs to try to relieve the headache. It was mostly the same for Zanka. He only glanced around HQ, giving people (Rudo) a glare before returning his gaze forward.

Sometimes, his gaze would linger on your hair instead of the environment, causing his assistaff to bump people a bit. He pulled it closer when it happened twice. 

Now, you were sitting across from him, sipping on your noodles as he did the same. The hot soup, the steam in your face, yeah, it was helping you two calm your migraines down. You two had the same meal after a screaming match every single time without fail. Even if one of you had another mission after the match, the other would magically know to wait before getting your noodles. 

You and Zanka were both creatures of habit, clearly. 

You’ve made it a habit to eat with him. 

He’s made a habit of eating with you. 

As Zanka thought about it more, it felt… odd. Not in a bad way, of course. In a confusing way. 

Every time he would eat without you, even if he was with Enjin, Riyo, and Rudo, the meal felt colder. Like he was missing an ingredient in his meal, and it was evident to his taste buds alone. Once, Enjin caught him side-eyeing his noodles and called him out on it. Unconsciously, Zanka’s eyes darted to Riyo’s seat, the one you usually sat in. The one that he’d look at in silence every meal that you didn’t have with him. 

Guess who gave him the biggest shit-eating grin he’s ever seen from the blonde. 

For once, he abandoned his plate on the table and waited for you to return from training. He watched you, of course. Watched you control how much energy your spear released in pulses to continue to make mini-tremors. You were as determined as he was—a power not born of talent, but of skill. 

There was a bit of yearning in his eyes. Pining, as Enjin called it. He scoffed at it at first, but the more he watched you, the more his lips quirked up in a grin. 

Like a peacock, he wanted to show off in that moment, and he NEVER wanted to show off. 

That night, he called out your name, immediately readying himself to spar as he took his usual place behind you. When you faced him, your expression was exasperated but excited. Maybe this is why you were his favorite sparring partner, and he was yours. 

That night, he reflected. Maybe you weren’t so bad outside arguments—

“—anka.” You called, snapping your fingers in his face. 

He snapped out of it pretty quickly, pushing your hand away. His out-of-it expression morphed into a frown before he replied. “What is it now?”

“Your food’s gonna get cold.”

Oh. Has he been staring?

“Shit, my bad,” he mumbled, slurping up a chunk of noodles as you roll your eyes and sigh. You kept eating your own noodles, staring at nothing in particular, before Zanka spoke up again. “Random question, d’ya feel lonely, or like, the food tastes weird when I ain’t around like this?” He didn’t know if it was the tiredness, the fade of adrenaline, or the disappearing migraine. That question just slipped out of him suddenly. 

“Mmhm.” You hummed, refusing to speak because of the food in your mouth. 

That answer sort of slipped out of you as well. 

“Mm.” He nodded. 

No one was surprised when you two started dating a few months later, really. 

Follo lost half of a week’s salary to Enjin when he lost a bet on how quickly your mutual pinning would turn you both into an official couple. Now, you were the Cleaners’ official married-not-married couple. Arguing was your love language. 

You and Zanka both doubted that it would ever change.

also thinking about how their love interests ended up slaying in their careers while they were away